Dissindere Temporalis

So here we are again,

There are a lot of threads in the air now, a lot of magical mysteries that they're all considering, and slowly these threads are going to come together. It's fascinating watching all these disparate storylines and characters get drawn together.

Thanks as always to everyone who reviews, and particularly my people over on the Discord.

Sidenote: For amusement I made the Fourteen Coven members in the Sims 4, and their adventures have been hilarious. But it's making me consider some ships I hadn't originally thought of... damn you Sims!

I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and a look into the mind of our favourite chill, but always observing, Slytherin.

Enjoy!

Libra Magicae

The force that unites the elements to become all things is Love, also called Aphrodite.

Love brings together dissimilar elements into a unity, to become a composite thing. Love is the same force that human beings find at work in themselves whenever they feel joy, love and peace.

Strife, on the other hand, is the force responsible for the dissolution of the one back into its many, the four elements of which it was composed.

- Empedocles

Bash had been surprised at how unsurprised he was at the revelation about Harry, Ron, Draco and Hermione's origins.

Surely this was something he should have been shocked by? Time travel? Creating a new timeline? Changing all their fates? Draco being Abraxas' grandson?

Instead he'd just been relieved.

It made sense, too much sense. It answered all the questions he'd had about the shadows in their eyes, the way they sometimes felt young, but ancient at the same time.

And it answered the question of Harry and Tom, their bond and connection.

Of course a Dimitera, one as compassionate and heroic as Harry, would come back and try to save a boy he'd seen so many echoes in. It fit.

But it raised another question. One that he was keeping to himself for the time being.

He had his suspicions.

But unless it was something that needed to be looked at, he was content to leave it be.

For now.

Watching Draco lose his collective shit at Ron was unbelievably hilarious.

Bash leaned against a pillar in the entrance hall, and covered his smile with his hand as he watched the blond fling his hand wide in a dramatic gesture, while the redheaded boy had his arms folded glaring at him.

Harry and Tom had disappeared about five minutes ago, thinking they were being all surreptitious.

That was a relief, hopefully they'd sort out their differences and their plan for world domination would get back on track.

The time-travel had just confirmed to Bash what he'd already known. They were part of something bigger, something huge, something world changing. And he was eager for it, and to be a part of it.

"Are you actually mentally incapable, Weasley!" Draco was shouting, completely oblivious to the steady stream of students flowing past them, gawking as they went, "Did those brothers of yours actually transfigure rocks into your thick skull?"

Ron's eye twitched, "Malfoy…" he growled, through gritted teeth.

"Have you no concept of propriety!" Draco barrelled on, blond hair completely dishevelled at this point, and grey eyes almost wild, "How can…!"

"Still going?" Hermione appeared at Bash's elbow, and he took a moment to admire the way a loose curl brushed against her shoulder, before an absent hand brushed it back carelessly.

She really was rather pretty, his little cat, he mused. A lioness in one lifetime and now a sneakier feline in this one.

He appreciated her, and knowing what she had accomplished in her original time, had only increased his regard. But she was a wild creature all her own, and if he tried anything…

Well…

He rather suspected that his little cat would be the type to overthink it entirely and shy away from something that made her feel uncomfortable, as affection clearly did.

So… he would wait.

He was a patient boy, and some things were worth waiting for.

His parents, his world, had always emphasised that he was practically royalty in their pureblood world. Handsome, well connected, wealthy… little would be denied him, if he demanded it.

One did not demand things of a Queen.

He'd grown up being told he could have everything he wanted, any girl would be lucky to have him as a husband. But he'd also grown up alongside his beloved twin sister.

He would never treat any woman less than the treasure he wished his sister to be seen as.

Hermione was a rare pearl, with that clever mind, ruthless bravery and fierce spirit. She was a once in a lifetime partner, the perfect person to have at his side, and on his team for the rest of his life…

However in the end she would have to choose him too, and he intended to ensure that he would be the only choice that her stubborn heart would want to make.

Also it had sounded like romance in their original time period had been very different. Bash had always grown up believing he would be married soon after leaving school… but some instinct told him that Hermione would balk at being… tied down… so young.

And if she did not wish to marry him, he wanted to remain as one of her dearest and most loyal friends. Because somewhere down this path he'd come to the realisation he didn't want to imagine a world where Hermione wasn't in his life.

So for now he simply shot her a warm, slightly wry smile.

"Draco is dramatic. Of course they are."

Hermione shot him a grin, before shaking her head, "Well your sister is on her way up from the dungeons, so it's about to get a lot more interesting."

Bash groaned, but he also was grinning, "Oh Merlin, Draco is about to be in a world of hurt, should we warn him?"

Hermione chuckled, and there was something a little wicked about it, "Now why on Earth would we do that?"

"We wouldn't," he agreed, inordinately pleased and proud, "Only a Gryffindor would get in amongst this mess."

"And we're definitely not Gryffindors." Aurora popped up beside them, dark eyes gleaming with anticipation, "I see I got here in time for the good bit."

"How good are your water spells?" Hermione wryly asked her, "If someone's hair doesn't get set on fire, then I'll be disappointed."

Aurora grinned, "I thought you'd want them to behave themselves."

"If it was something important, yes." Hermione rolled her eyes, and Sebastian arched an eyebrow at her, "I'm not saying Druella isn't important, I'm saying that Draco being an overprotective git, is the only reason this is happening. I mean you're her twin brother and even you aren't causing a fuss."

"My sister deserves whatever her heart desires," Bash nodded with equanimity, watching as Draco poked Ron sharply in his chest, "Now if Weasley hurts her, that's a different story."

"Ron wouldn't…" Hermione trailed off, as though thinking of something before she shook her head, "He wouldn't."

"Mmhmm…" he gave her a dry look, "So until the day he does, I'm leaving my sister's affairs to her."

"Ooh, here she comes," Aurora was gleeful, elbowing Hermione rapidly until the former Gryffindor gave her a small, playful, shove.

Bash watched his sister enter the entrance hall, and chuckled. He saw the instant she realised what was going on, and saw her brows snap together as she stalked forward.

She looked perfectly put together, in a soft pink outfit, with a thick cloak trimmed with snow white fur. But the look on her face was thunderous.

"Draco!"

"Ooooh." The three spectators said together, and promptly giggled.

Draco whirled to face Druella, and seemed to falter a little at her expression,

"Smart move would be to back off," Aurora observed.

"Not going to happen." Bash and Hermione chorused as Draco drew himself up as only a Malfoy high on his dignity could.

"Druella," He pointed at Ron with all the aristocratic disdain that he could, "What are you thinking of, going to Hogsmede with that?"

"Sod off Malfoy!" Ron growled, but Druella marched right up to Draco and this time she was the one jabbing her finger into his chest.

Hard, from the way he winced.

"What do you think you're doing!" she snapped, "Who I date, and who I go to Hogsmede with is none of your business."

"It is if it's Wea-"

"None of your business!" Druella's voice had a hard, edge to it, and Draco wilted a little.

"I bet she used that tone to reprimand little baby Draco," Aurora observed, dark eyes gleaming, "He can't shake that early conditioning, look."

Bash had to admit, she was probably correct. The wind had completely gone out of the young Malfoy's sails and he was floundering a little, even as Ron's glare had turned a little smug.

"Who I date is no one's business but my own, Draco. You'd best start remembering that I make my own decisions."

Draco glared at Ron, and then looked down at Druella, a complicated look on his face, "And if he… isn't a gentleman?"

"Hey!"

"Then Sebastian will carve out his heart with a spoon and dish it up to me on a silver platter," Druella answered, with pure sweetness.

Ron paled a little.

Bash hid a laugh in his hand, and saw that Hermione and Aurora were trying, and failing, to hide their own amusement.

Draco huffed, nodding slowly, "I suppose that is acceptable. Watch yourself Weasley."

And then with all the dignity and drama of a true Malfoy prima donna, Draco swept away.

Aurora sighed happily, "That was perfect. Well, shall we?"

Hermione laughed, and Bash nodded, happy to comply, especially if it meant spending the walk with two of the scariest and interesting women he knew.

The date went well, despite the hitch at the beginning, and Bash's sister had taken to blushing prettily every time Weasley smiled her way, which was a lot.

He was pleased, it was good for Druella to spend time with someone like Ron, who was easy going, friendly and steadfast. It gave her a good support, even if he'd heard that menace, Sophia Bletchley crowing that Druella had chosen beneath her station.

Bletchley was an ambitious little snake, much like many other Slytherins, and all she wanted was a rich, powerful husband to shower her with attention, and make her the star of Pureblood society.

Next to Druella, however, Bletchley would always come off second best, as his sister was elegant, refined, kind, and beautiful in that timeless way. Bletchley might be pretty, but she lacked his sister's natural grace and charm.

In fact she might come off even worse, as Aurora was a stunning beauty of her own, but who scared people off with her razor sharp tongue, brains and intimidating air. Even Victoria had that sort of warm, girl next door sort of good looks, but the Ravenclaw was completely disinterested in the Pureblood marriage games, and her dry, deadpan humour wasn't everyone's cup of tea.

Now with Druella seemingly off the market, at least for now, Bletchley had amped up her campaign to be the most eligible heiress going, and it was becoming obnoxious. Especially since she'd set her gaze on Abraxas.

Who was too polite to tell her to sod off.

"She's a nightmare," he complained to Sebastian miserably, "All she does is giggle and flatter me, like that's all I would want in a companion." He sighed, "Our girls have spoiled me… they've got brains that they aren't too afraid to show. I like their brains."

"So tell her you're not interested," Tom shot him a dry look, "It's not that hard."

"It is!" Brax wailed, even while making sure to keep his voice low, "She doesn't say anything overt that I can object to without sounding like a complete prig."

"He's not got your mysterious air, Tom." Bash teased, leaning back in his chair and watched as his best friend was unable to hide a smile, "You have every girl in our year, and above, watching you and hoping you'll give her a smile. With exceptions of course."

Tom smirked, "Do I? I hadn't noticed."

He sounded unbearably smug about it, and Bash rolled his eyes at Abraxas who snickered quietly.

"You have, you fraud." Bash nudged him, "You're handsome, mysterious… of course they're all wetting their knickers over you."

Tom's smirk was even more smug, before it faded, "They may like my face, but most of them wouldn't think me suitable marriage material. Because even though I have Slytherin's blood, I'm still a half-blood. They want the status boost of my attention, but not for me to be serious about them."

There was an uncomfortable note of truth about that, and looking at Brax, it seemed that the other boy knew it too.

"The other houses don't know about Slytherin's blood…" Abraxas pointed out gently.

"Please," Tom sniffed, "Apart from our Ravenclaw girls, are there any girls from the other houses who would be acceptable?"

Bash pursed his lips, but it was Abraxas who answered first.

"Are you discounting Kara because she's muggleborn?" he frowned.

Tom's face immediately darkened with thunder, "You really think that of me?"

His voice had a dangerous edge to it, and Brax paled, "Tom…"

"He doesn't." Bash jumped in, electing to smooth the moment over, "Tom doesn't see Kara that way Brax." He let his lips curl in a small smile, "Pretty sure he'd rip anyone who misused her limb from limb. And rightly so."

They all fell silent for a moment, it was all too easy to imagine Kara being the victim of a cruel prank, or something that would embarrass or hurt her. It was all too easy to imagine a pureblood prig manipulating her, using her and then brutally breaking her heart.

Too many of their fellows wouldn't see her as a person with feelings. She wasn't their equal, she was worth less.

Worth only playing with and discarding.

You didn't marry someone so inferior to you.

Disgusting as it was to consider, it was something that the boys would have to be on the lookout for. Kara was their friend, like a sister, and she would need brothers to protect her.

He saw Brax's fists clench out of the corner of his eye and gave a tiny smile.

Maybe not a sister to all of them.

Turning back to Tom, he affected perfect innocence.

"What about our 'puff? The Diggory boys seem to like her a lot. You don't think she's worthy of attention?"

Tom's dark eyes flashed, "She's a Hufflepuff. It doesn't matter who she gets… involved with."

Abraxas frowned slightly, "Just because she's a Hufflepuff doesn't mean that she's not a worthy partner…"

Tom's sharp look made him subside, clearly he wasn't in a mood to discuss Tierra.

Bash observed this with interest.

He'd noticed that the pair seemed to have a completely different relationship to the rest of the group. Tom was open and engaged with all of them, by his standards, as they were all people he trusted.

As much as Tom could trust anyway.

He saw Druella as a sister, Aurora as a dark, kindred spirit, and Hermione as his intellectual equal, or as close as his ego would allow. He was protective of Kara and Kel, and friendly with Victoria.

Tierra was different.

He wouldn't say that Tom was really emotionally vulnerable with any of them, not in the way he was with Harry. Where all his soft spots seemed to be on display.

Tierra was probably the closest to that, out of the rest of them.

She was warm, accepting, kind, and undemanding. She simply liked him for him, and spent time in his company with no ulterior motive to be seen. For a Slytherin, always watching for the trap, the tripwire, it was a refreshing thing.

They all relied on Tierra for this, her unconditional support, her listening and her acceptance of them, warts and all.

But none more-so than Tom.

Even if he didn't want to admit that it was something precious.

Bash wanted to warn him, warn him that although her affection and friendship was unconditional, there would be a point where she'd break. Flowers needed sun, and she needed support in return.

Her softness was a different kind of strength. And the group needed to appreciate that more.

Now was not the time to push it, however.

"Tierra will only get involved with someone for love," Brax observed quietly after long moments of silence, unaware of the silent thoughts swirling in Bash's head, "She's probably the safest out of the bunch,"

Something complicated flickered over Tom's face, something angry, something sad.

Bash's eyes narrowed.

"I can't tell everyone about the future!" Hermione hissed at him, when he cornered her in the library, "It's completely changed, besides."

"Then there's no harm." He swiftly rejoined, and she gave him a disgruntled look, "What?"

"That's what they said. Draco and Tom."

"Draco and Tom know?" Sebastian gave her his best sad eyes, "And you would keep it from me, little cat?"

"Knowing the future makes it messy!"

"I don't need to know all of it," Bash coaxed, "I have no interest in my own future…"

Hermione seemed to relax a bit, but tensed again when he continued.

"I want to know what Tom knows about the 'puff."

"Oh god." She sighed, and pressed a hand to her face, "Bash…"

It was all he needed, "She died. Didn't she?" Hermione's startled expression was a confirmation, "Of course she did. When?"

"What do you mean 'of course'?"

For a moment he wanted to confide in her, to share his hunch.

But something held him back.

It wasn't the right time.

But for now, it did explain that fraction of a moment where Tom's face betrayed his worry. It also explained why he'd paired with her in Defence Club to practise shield spells. It explained… well it explained a great deal.

"When did she die, Hermione?"

The brown eyed girl considered him with a small frown, but she answered.

"Between her sixth and seventh year."

For a moment Sebastian imagined the timeline the travellers had come from. He imagined a Tom without Harry, without Hermione, without Ron and Draco. He was pretty sure that he and Abraxas would have come to Tom's orbit with or without them. But having heard about Voldemort, and his insistence on not caring for anyone in his life, he was sure that it would have been friendships of expedience.

He thought about that version of Tom, the cold, ruthless, calculating, cruel Tom encountering Tierra.

Oh it was easy to assume that he'd sneer, dismiss her as nothing.

But… Tierra had been the gateway to his lineage, the connection between Tom and this world, between Tom and his birthright.

Alone, deprived of Harry's support, Hermione's understanding and Ron's unconditional friendship, would this isolated, defensive, abused boy have sneered at the gentle girl? Yes, absolutely, but a part of Bash suspected he would have sneered to protect himself, and yet kept contact, spent time in her company, kept her private.

Kept her secret.

Kept her safe.

Because he would have known how easy it would be to lose something he cared for.

Tom had taken his time to enact his plans at school. They had only accelerated in that final year.

After Tierra was dead.

After his last link to his humanity was severed.

What might have happened if the Hufflepuff had survived? What influence might she have wrought on a ruthless Dark Lord in the ascendancy? What compromises might have been considered by a man who only had one person who knew and cared for him, just the way he was...?

Or perhaps he was overthinking it.

Perhaps Tierra truly hadn't mattered in that timeline.

Perhaps they'd never met.

"How?" he asked softly.

"Grindelwald. It was the final nail in the coffin for Dumbledore to confront him. To defeat him."

Balance, yet again.

Dumbledore had to be the one to win the duel between him and Grindelwald, otherwise the balance would have been thrown wildly out of whack.

An emergent Dark Lord, fully committed to his path.

A reluctant master of the modern 'light' magic, given unprecedented acclaim and power.

It was an interesting theory. But speculation at this point.

"Anything else?" he asked her quietly and she shook her head, those soft doe like eyes concerned.

"She was only a passing mention…most books don't even remember the name of the witch who died. Merely that she was a student, and that it was this impetus, along with the British press, that pushed him into action." Hermione fingered a book spine, "It was such an important moment, but no one remembered who it was. It matters to us, because she is our friend. But to history? It means nothing…"

Sebastian nodded slowly, "Logic would suggest it's an event we should allow to unfold once more."

Hermione's gaze snapped to him, fierce and angry, "How can you-"

"Hush little cat," he soothed, and gave her a small smile, "We won't. But we will need to answer the question of Grindelwald at some point."

Hermione nodded, subsiding, "Not yet. We've got so much to worry about already…"

He agreed.

They really did.

Bash rather liked the Chamber of Secrets, apart from the bloody statue in the middle of the main hall.

"That thing is hideous," he informed Tom, wrinkling his nose at the statue, and saw his adoptive brother smirk a little in response.

"According to Nathaira, the statue was built when the pipes were installed in the tunnels." Tom shrugged, "By a student of the school and his father. Gaunts of course. She said that the statue was etched in the likeness of the elder Gaunt, Artiphex. I'm guessing they also had a say in the Chocolate Frog design…"

"Your family wasn't known for its humility…" Bash mused, eyeing the statue, and shaking his head, "It seems excessive."

"This is a family that based their whole identity on being descended from this Wizard." Tom mused quietly, "Makes sense they'd want to pay homage… in their own image."

Both boys considered it.

"We should get rid of it at some point," Bash shrugged, and Tom grinned, nodding, "But that can wait."

"Maybe one day when we all need to let off steam."

"Sold," Bash laughed and Tom chuckled with him

They walked through the concealed door between the man's feet, and into the living quarters and Library beyond.

The Chamber had once been designed to be a Sanctuary and place of contemplation for the children who had been Slytherin's chosen students. Those who had passed his tests and became one of the chosen.

Hermione and Tom had almost had kittens when they'd seen the collection of old tomes in the dark oak panelled Library and the potions laboratory, underground alchemical garden and the giant, ancient oak that was bathed in sunlight during the day, and moonlight at night.

For Tom it was a sanctuary, the closest thing he'd ever had to a home, and they'd all agreed, secretly, amongst themselves, that they wouldn't go down there without express permission.

Even if Hermione gazed adoringly at the Library every time she entered the place.

Tonight it was just Bash and Tom, and the two spent the time reading, practising their duelling and some of the spells in the grimoires they'd found in the stacks, completely comfortable in each other's company.

More and more they read about elemental gifts, about Affinities tied to the elements themselves, and about how ancient druids and sorcerers had thrown themselves on the mercy of the world's ancient powers.

"Did you know that originally the term Wizard and Sorcerer were used to delineate between the hand and wand wizards and those that didn't require or wish to use a wand?" Bash informed his friend, half hanging off the couch in a position that should have been uncomfortable, but was, in actuality, making his back crack in really good ways.

"Really?" Tom looked up, expression thoughtful. "Explains why Wizard and Witch are the more commonly used terms now."

"It does," Bash hummed thoughtfully, "And Warlocks were magical practitioners that delved into ancient and forbidden magics, or those that made a pact or vow with magic itself. Usually against the balance of the world. But eventually that just became a term for someone who had mastered their gifts. Chief Warlock…"

Tom considered that thoughtfully, "Harry, mentioned in his story of the past about the Tale of the Three Brothers. It was just a passing reference but I've researched it. Apparently a great many people hold a lot of stock in the quest for the Three Deathly Hallows."

Bash frowned slightly, "The Three brothers is a bedtime story," he mused, but he was already remembering Hermione mentioning, on more than one occasion, about how folklore could, and often did, have a nugget of truth, "You think there's truth to it?"

Tom nodded, "Harry was being honest with me, he'd made a vow to be so." he sighed softly, "But the topic of conversation was me, him, and that past. He mentioned it, it felt important, but not important to the conversation at hand. Anyway why I bring it up is that in the tale they speak with Death, they make, in essence a Warlock pact."

Bash considered this, intrigued, "That's actually a fair point, but in no other stories is Death a figure. I've never heard of there being a figure, or presence, of Death."

"Stories get warped with time. Look at the legend of the Chamber of Secrets." he waved a hand, "Slytherin leaves his Serpent to protect the school, but because he was suspicious and concerned about the wider knowledge of the Muggle community at that time, it was twisted to be a hatred of Muggleborns."

"So, you think something happened, some encounter perhaps, or some vow, and these objects, the Hallows, came from that?" Bash mused, intrigued by the implications, "The Elder Wand, the deathstick, the Resurrection stone and the Cloak of Invisibility?"

"And the one who unites them, becomes the master of death," Tom mused, and then his smile turns wry, "Once I might have accepted that at face value, but if I've learned anything about Magic, it's that the obvious explanation is easy to swallow, but usually wrong."

"Once you might have heard about the Elder Wand and immediately wanted it." Bash reminded him, a light teasing note in his voice, and laughed as Tom threw a ball of parchment at his head, "The most powerful wand in the world?"

"Wands are conduits for the Wizard." Tom reminded him, "The wand doesn't make the Wizard, the wand chooses the wizard. "

"Sounds like a trap doesn't it?" Bash hummed.

Tom shot him a small sly smile, "My thoughts exactly. But I plan on asking them about it, asking Harry about it…"

"Do you think he'll tell you?"

Tom's lips pursed slightly, "I hope so."

Bash nodded, and turned back to his reading, "If they're real… the stories around them are probably completely, and wildly, off base. Seems to be the common theme."

Tom snickered softly, "You're not wrong."

Bash grinned, and the pair of them lapsed back into comfortable silence.

It was a week or so after the Hogsmede visit, when Bash received a package from his mother.

'Darling,' she wrote, 'you've chosen a fascinating topic for your studies. Our family has a long history with the Olde traditions of magic but the art is now almost lost. It gladdens my heart to see you take such an interest.

For your information the Rosier family has a long history with the Element of Air, as does my birth family. You and your sister, I believe, are part of this grand tradition. These tomes from the family library go in depth about Affinity, and should be very helpful in your work, as well as understanding your magical links to the world better.

This is not the new age newfangled trend that's been sweeping around. It's very in vogue to be in tune with nature and dance naked under the moonlight. These practitioners are quacks, and they insult the great and ancient arts that are your birthright.

Learn their secrets well my son, I'm very proud of you and Druella for pursuing this part of your history.

Remember: Seven is the most powerful number. A quartet is at its strongest with a triad to ground it. Earth, Water, Air, Fire. Past, Present, Future. Or Body, Soul, Heart, there are many interpretations.

I'm not a fool my dearest, I believe you are both destined for greatness, but this is your path to walk.

If I can help, I shall.

Warm regards,

Your mother'

That night they all gathered in the Room to study the books, and the notes that she'd included.

"It makes sense, the elements are some of the most powerful and primal magic in our world." Hermione mused, thoughtfully, "But it seems so…"

"Ridiculous?" Abraxas sneered, lowering the pages he was considering, "Behold…" he put on his most mystical, wispy voice, "When Venus and Jupiter conjoin you shall howl at the moon and bear a child with stag antlers. Wooooo."

And he twiddled his fingers to giggles.

"Sneer all you like Brax," Tierra mused from her chair, thumbing through a book with an expression of intent interest on her face, "But I think we all remember All Hallows Eve. Remember the fire under your hand?"

"It sounds like anyone can be any element," Harry mused, before Abraxas could retort, sitting in his spot next to Tom, "Not just 'hot temper' = 'fire'."

"And rarely, some people have an even split between elements." Hermione nodded, "Apparently sometimes the underage magic you perform, goes back to this affinity."

"I fell out of a tree when I was young," Bash mused thoughtfully, "Should have been injured worse than I did, but it was like I was slowed…like a feather. Still broke my arm though. Air?"

Druella nodded, "Sounds like it. I always wondered how your silly skull didn't get cracked."

He blew her a kiss, knowing she wasn't serious.

"I… I made flowers grow in the middle of winter." Hermione scratched her cheek, refusing to look up at them all, "I was sad, some kids had been mean to me… and there was this little bird freezing near me in the park. I wished it was spring, wished there were flowers for him…"

"I was lost in the woods, the magical forest near our home." Tierra's voice was quiet, "When it got dark and cold… suddenly it was like my hands had fire mittens. And I was able to find my way home."

"When my uncle grabbed me." Harry admitted, determinedly not looking at any of them, "I sent an electric charge through him until he let go."

"He's lucky that's all you did." Ron grumbled.

Tom's dark eyes flashed towards Harry and narrowed.

Victoria coughed and swiftly shared her own experience.

It turned out that all of them had a story like that, Aurora had floated underwater in a bubble until she rose to the surface once more, Ron had set one of his brother's hair on fire after he turned his teddy into a spider.

The teddy had also been on fire.

Ross had wanted to roll down a hill, but had been scared of hurting himself, so he'd coated himself in rocks, Kel had had snippets of the future come to her on the breeze, Brax had longed for rain so that he wouldn't have to go for a walk with his mother's idea of an ideal companion. Draco had sent water flying into the face of a friend when he was an oaf.

All of them shared, until all that was left was Tom.

They looked at him.

Tom refused to meet their gazes.

Then.

"When the nun, at school. She wished to teach me a lesson. For being too smart mouthed." His voice was steady, dispassionate, "She held my head underwater in a bucket, to wash it clean."

Bash felt pity surge through him but refused to allow it onto his face.

"I couldn't breathe. I thought I'd drown," Tom continued, voice quiet, "And then suddenly… I could… just breathe..."

Bash felt a surge of anger, imagining a child as gifted, as talented, as Tom being mistreated, being twisted by punishment and isolation. And when he glanced at Harry he realised that while the other boy looked sad, there was no surprise. This was why Harry had empathised with his enemy.

Two mistreated boys. One who had chosen to embrace everything the world had to offer but refused to value himself as highly, the other who had rejected the world's condemnation and prized himself above anything else.

Two sides of the same coin.

"So," Bash drew gazes back to himself, smiling with more confidence than he felt, not wanting to linger too long on Tom's heartbreaking history, "Maybe there is something here. Maybe we're drawn together because 14 is stable, and magical. Maybe we balance each other out."

Ross and Victoria shared an uncertain look and Brax looked downright constipated, "Bash…"

"He's right," Tom's voice was final, "No matter which way you look at it, there are fourteen of us here, seven of us lean towards darker, deeper magic, and seven are drawn to light. In one world I destroyed the magic… in this one…" he looked towards Harry, "I think I'm meant to fix it."

Ross coughed, "Guys… this is…"

"A bit much." Victoria was blunt, "Sounds a lot like delusions of grandeur to me."

"Victoria," Kel's voice was gentle, but firm, "I've seen enough of the future to know that you can't fight destiny. And that it's calling…"

Ross sighed, "Ron, why did I sit down next to you back in First year?" he lamented, "Moody would have been a better choice,"

Ron looked hurt, until it clicked that he was joking and then he smiled in relief, "You're a Gryffindor. You know an adventure when you see one."

Victoria huffed, folding her arms, but it didn't take long before she too nodded, "I would have been happy to just live my life you know. But someone's got to keep all you dreamers in line."

Tom's eyes gleamed, and when he looked over at Sebastian, he couldn't help but grin back.

Their work had begun.

TO BE CONTINUED

Reviews

Doreene - We all knew that Draco was going to be a diva about Ron and Druella, we knew it in our bones! And I hope you enjoy the carry over of drama into this chapter too.

Arguably Tepid Coffee - Thank you for the compliment, I'm just happy writing along, and if people enjoy it then that's amazing. Especially if they review and chat to me about this batty world I'm building!

amk - Can't keep them too apart for too long, not until we really spin off into another path!

Vexinity - I hope you had tissues handy and I hope they were good tears.

Shiara - Charlie is a pragmatist whereas Harry is an idealist. Harry wants things to be fair, and sometimes needs to be reminded that fair can be as much a limitation as a goal. I enjoy that dynamic.

Smithback - Thank you my friend!