Here is the new chapter, I'm not completely happy with how it turned out, and nothing is really happening, so it's a bit of a filler, but the next chapters will have enough action, because we will have the Slytherin-Gryffindor match! And the Dueling championship from Merrythought that will bring some new characters into play because Merrythought will, of course, sell tickets for the whole shebang. Who's gonna stop her?
That's right no one!
Albus had been aiming for Tom, hoping to cut the boy down, he just knew that Tom Riddle was bad news ever since he had visited him in the Orphanage all those years ago. The boy stole, manipulated, and spoke Parseltongue! He couldn't be anything else but Dark, only the Peverell heir pushed him out of the way, and now he was hit by Albus's spell.
Albus gritted his teeth while he tried to be sympathetic. He hadn't expected such quick reflexes. If he had hit Riddle, he was sure the boy would have been heavily injured, something he could take advantage of. If the boy had been unconscious, he could've 'planted' some suggestions for the future.
But alas.
''Oh, dear heavens! I thought it was too dangerous for two wands to be aimed at someone with only a sword. I truly hope Mister Peverell is going to be fine!'' He exclaimed.
''What the bloody hell, Albus!?'' Constance Merrythought shrieked while making her way to her unconscious student.
''I'm truly sorry, this shouldn't have happened.'' He said sincerely while making his way over to Constance and Peverell. He truly didn't want the Gryffindor to be hurt too badly. It would be a shame to have such a powerful ally against him.
''But it was your meaning to blast me away because I had two wands at my disposal?'' An irate voice broke through the silence. Albus's eyes hardened, and he turned to look at the blight of Hogwarts.
Tom Riddle seemed to be towering over him, even if the boy was smaller than him. He radiated anger but also something that seemed like concern?
Mh, that's peculiar. Tom never shows emotions other than anger, indignation, and smugness. Of course, he seemed polite and sympathetic towards others, but Albus knew better.
''I only wanted to make sure nobody got hurt during this... duel.''
''Professor Merrythought had it handled,'' Tom replied, making Albus's eyes narrow.
''That's not how it looked from my point of view, but you are correct. Professor Merrythought is the specialist in this field, of course. My apologies for stepping in, Constance. How is Mister Peverell?'' He dismissed Riddle, taking glee at the fact that the student was fuming by being disregarded so easily.
Constance was mumbling some very crude words under her breath that Albus probably wasn't supposed to hear, but he ignored it.
''He's going to be fine, probably going to have one major headache, but I'll take him to the infirmary, and he will be good as rain tomorrow.'' Constance tried to get up, but it was clear that her old knees weren't as they used to be.
Tom Riddle stepped in. ''Professor, I could take Peverell to the infirmary. I can return his wand while at it and explain what happened, of course, when he rouses.'' Tom proposed, and Albus kept watching. He didn't know yet what Tom's end goal was, but he should warn Peverell from becoming close to the Slytherin.
Nothing good could come of Tom Marvolo Riddle, of that Albus was sure, and he will show the world if they won't listen.
Now, where was that sword? He could've sworn that Peverell had been holding it...
Tom's POV;
That old rat bastard!
Tom thought viciously while levitating Hadrian's unconscious body next to him. He couldn't believe that his most hated Professor just tried to take him out like that.
And he ruined the duel he was winning against Hadrian!
Winning from Hadrian hadn't happened many times during the summer, he wanted to rub it in his smug face for at least a few months! But now the boy was hurt and unconscious, something that made Tom feel guilty? Concern?
He didn't know for sure, but he did know he hated this feeling. Hadrian needed to wake up so the feeling would go away.
But for now, he would aim his fury at his Transfiguration Teacher. That pillock! He tried to hurt Tom!
And what was that with Hadrian pushing him out of the way? The reflexes of that boy were truly uncanny. But why would he do something like that? Tom just couldn't understand that someone willingly got hit because of him. Why would Peverell do that? He hates Tom.
He opened the door of the Hospital wing and levitated Hadrian onto one of the beds before calling the Madame, she hurried out of her office and listened to Tom's recall of the injury before waving him out of the way and getting to work.
''Professor Merrythought was right, he will have a headache, but according to my scans...'' She fell silent and shot Tom a look. He merely smiled back.
''That's something I'll discuss with Mr. Peverell himself when he wakes up,'' She said tersely. Tom wanted to frown but just nodded in acceptance. What had she seen on her scans? Was Hadrian alright?
She then started to wave her wand, and Tom watched closely, hoping he could identify some of the spells she was using, but unfortunately, Healing magic has never been his forte.
''There, he should wake up within a few hours,'' She glanced at Tom. ''You don't have to wait for him.''
He nodded at her in acknowledgment, but he wasn't going anywhere. ''I need to return his wand, and even if I know the Hospital wing is a safe place, I would feel better if I could hand it to him directly when he wakes up. It's what I would've wanted if I was in his position.'' Tom smoothly replied.
The matron softened her glance at him and nodded before calling for a house-elf to serve Tom some tea, something he didn't object to.
He then took a seat next to Hadrian and waited, wanting to put a little fuel to the hatred Hadrian felt for Dumbledore.
And if he wanted to check if Hadrian was fine when he woke up, well, there was no one around to call him out.
Harry's POV;
''Hello, little Master,''
Harry groaned and turned around to look at the deity. He hadn't seen Death before, only heard him in his head, and he had been insanely curious.
But the deity had his face hidden. He looked a bit like the Grim Reaper in the tales he had read or heard about when he was younger while also reminding him of a Dementor. Harry shivered at that thought and groaned again.
''Did I die?'' Harry asked curiously, but Death just seemed amused and chuckled.
''No, little Master, but you were unconscious, and I took advantage.''
Harry nodded. ''Did you want to speak with me?'' Why else would the deity contact him? Harry wanted to know if it was something serious.
''I did,'' Death waved his hand a bench appeared. They both sat down, which was weird. Wasn't this happening in his head? Or where was he? Harry shook his head, now was not the time for these kinds of thoughts.
''You haven't called the Hallows yet, and I was curious about why. Of course, you'll be the only one ever to be recognized as the Master of Death, and you don't need them to be able to wield their powers, but they are stubborn and eager to please the true Master.''
Harry blinked at the deity before ducking his head and rubbing the back of his neck.
''Uh, would it be stupid if I hadn't thought of calling them to me?''
Death let out something that was a rasping laugh, and Harry grinned in response.
''Please call them to you when you get the chance.''
Harry frowned. ''But wouldn't it be strange if I suddenly called them to me? The wand is owned by Grindelwald, and he would probably flip if he noticed the wand is gone and the stone is in a ring that's owned by Morfin Gaunt, who is still alive and free at this point. He probably wouldn't notice it immediately, but he is very proud of that heritage, it would stand out eventually, and the cloak is probably owned by Fleamont Potter or Charlus, and they would notice the cloak missing too!'' Harry ranted, getting a bit worked up, how will he get the Hallows if everyone would notice them missing?
''But they are yours, Master,''
Yes, that is true, but Harry still didn't think he will risk it just yet.
''Maybe when I truly need them, but for now, I'll leave them with their current owners,''
Death tilted his head in acknowledgment.
''It's time for you to wake up, little Master, it seems your little project is worried,''
Harry frowned at that, what little project?
But before Harry could ask, he was already opening his eyes to the bright lights of the Hospital wing. It felt like he had been hit with a bludger on the head. He groaned, this time in pain.
''Ah, you're awake. I will inform the Matron.'' Tom's smooth drawl greeted him.
Harry coughed and whined in misery when a fresh wave of pain hit him.
Harry watched as the Matron came and ushered him up to drink a potion which immediately gave him the relief he needed. She then glanced at Tom.
''Mr. Riddle, I need to speak with my patient privately,'' She said sternly, and Tom nodded. Harry frowned at that before lighting up when he got his wand back from Tom.
''Thanks. Where is the sword?'' He asked roughly, and Tom frowned.
''I don't know, actually. You were still holding it before, and then Professor Merrythought and Dumbledore-'' Tom's jaw clenched around the last name, making Harry raise his eyebrow in question. ''-were looking over you before I escorted you here, and the sword had been gone by then. Do you know who hit you?'' Tom asked, his eyes sharp on Harry.
Harry narrowed his eyes and nodded. Yes. Dumbledore would pay for that, one way or another.
It was worrying that the sword was gone so suddenly, but it was property of Hogwarts, even if he felt a bit possessive over it now it had again appeared to him.
He nodded at Tom again, intending to speak with him soon while the boy left. Harry then focused on the Matron.
''Mr. Peverell, I did some regular scans, but I want to make a deeper scan because you're already of age-'' Harry panicked for a moment. How did she know he was of age?! But he tried to keep his face composed as Tom had taught him. ''-I need your consent to do so, but the first scans were - troubling.'' She was frowning now, and Harry was worried something was wrong, but he consented to the scan, hoping he would be out of the Hospital wing before dinner.
She started chanting, and Harry was curious about what was happening. A white glow appeared above him before it spit out a parchment with writing in the Matron's waiting hand.
''Let's see, ah, yes, I was afraid of that,'' She pursed her lips while reading the parchment. When she reached the end, she looked at Harry's uneasy form.
''Is everything alright?'' He asked tentitavely.
''No, Mr. Peverell, not everything is alright. According to the scan I just did, you have nutrition deficiency, brittle bones in your left leg, right upper arm, and left shoulder, liver failure as a direct result of the nutrition deficiency, and several curse scars that need proper rituals to cleanse them.''
Harry blinked up at her. ''But-''
''If the next words out of your mouth are going to be 'I'm fine' we are going to have several problems, Mr. Peverell.'' The woman replied sternly with almost flaming eyes. He gulped.
Oh shit, she wasn't playing around, that was for sure.
''Uh, I was going to say that I feel good. Well, I have a slight headache, but otherwise-'' He stopped talking at her piercing glare.
She clucked her tongue before casting another spell. This time a bright dark grey glow appeared above him. It seemed vast, and it felt powerful. He didn't know how such a glow could feel powerful, but it did.
''It seems you have a ridiculously large magical core. That's the only reason you're still alive at this point. Now, I want to start treating you immediately. You will be on a strict diet and potion regime for at least four months, maybe this time will be shorter if you know a good potioneer, but for now, you need to rely on the potions from Professor Slughorn-'' Harry's eyebrows raised at the insult to her colleague, but the Matron didn't seem fazed. ''-I will also vanish the brittle bones, and you will stay for the next two days to regrow them with Skelegrow, don't pull that face, I know the potion is disgusting, but it's needed. During that time, I will call in a specialist from St. Mungo's for the curse residue in your body and scars. They will perform a couple of rituals to cleanse you. I will also use some tissue from your current liver to grow another one for you that will be healthy. When that's fully grown, I'll transplant the healthy one into your body after removing the current one. Do you have any questions for me?''
Harry's mind was blank. How couldn't he have noticed he was this sick? Was it truly his magic that kept him healthy? Is that why he's always out for so long after using a lot of magic? And how did all of this happen?
His mind went to a dark place. He already knew how a lot of it happened. The curse residue is from his former life. You don't come out of a war completely unscathed. He's sure about that, but the nutrition problems and bones? Those are still 'gifts' from his former family. He clenched his fists. How could nobody have noticed in his former life? Were they just not looking? Or was it something bigger than that?
He shook his head at the Matron, and she stepped closer before patting his left fist.
''I will not offer you shallow apologies or pity, and I understand you don't want to talk about what happened to you, but if you ever need a listening ear, I'll be here, or I can arrange a mind healer for you, but we will make sure you will be healthy for the rest of your life, Mr. Peverell.''
Harry blinked his eyes, trying to will away the burning feeling and the threatening tears.
''Thank you,'' He said softly. She nodded at him. ''Do you need to write your friends so they won't worry?''
Harry decided that he quite liked this no-nonsense attitude from the Matron. It felt better than the mothering of Madam Pomphrey in his own time.
''Yes, please,'' He got some parchment and a quill and wrote a note for the boys in his dorm and one note to Tom. He called Mipsy to deliver them and then laid back for the Matron.
She gave him a numbing potion before vanishing his bones and extracting a part of his liver.
The Skelegrow still tasted awful, but thankfully he got some dreamless sleep potion afterward so he could sleep through most of the regrowing. The Matron told him she would spell the first Nutrition potion and meal in his stomach when he was asleep—trusting the Matron to do what was best for him.
He woke up the next day a bit sore but feeling alright. Charlus and Hector were seated next to his bed doing some schoolwork and bickering on some Charm theory. When they noticed he had woken, they immediately pestered him with questions about what happened and if they needed to hex Dumbledore.
He really wanted to say yes, but he needed to ease them in the Dumbledore hatred.
They spoke some, but Harry didn't tell them exactly what was wrong with him, not wanting to open that pit of shit unless necessary. They kept talking until they needed to go to lunch so they could eat something before their next classes.
Harry sighed and ate a bit of the spread the Matron had arranged before he was almost startled out of his bed by a throat clearing right fucking next to him.
''Jezus fucking Christ!'' He cursed before glaring at Tom, who suddenly appeared out of nowhere—looking dashingly handsome with that infuriating smirk plastered on his face.
''Since when have you been here?'' Harry hissed and looked around to see if the Matron suddenly appeared because of his exclamation.
''I've been here since before those morons sprouted useless facts about the Irkin theory,'' Tom said haughtily before snatching a strawberry from Harry's plate.
Harry narrowed his eyes at Tom. Pulling the bowl with strawberries closer to himself. What the hell was the boy doing here? Yes, he had sent Tom a note, but he hadn't expected the bastard to show up.
Tom crossed his legs and stroked some wrinkles out of his robes before focussing back on Harry. He arched one eyebrow as if to ask; so? What happened?
Harry sighed, Tom already knew parts of his abuse, and the boy had gone through something similar in the Orphanage. For some reason, it made it easier to share what was wrong. ''Apparently, the amazing treatment of my lovely relatives has left some... issues,'' Harry replied a bit sarcastically, he then pursed his lips. He hated to think of the Dursley's treatment of him as abuse, but the Matron had put some things in perspective.
Tom clenched his jaw and looked out of the window.
''What were their names again?'' He asked in an innocent tone.
Harry wanted to rub his nose but couldn't really use his arms at the moment, with the bones still regrowing. Yes, he could eat, but it was messy, and he didn't want to poke out his own eye.
''They aren't even born yet, so drop it. They haven't done anything to deserve any crazy teenage Dark Lord torturing them, yet.''
Tom almost seemed to pout, but Harry knew better. He quickly changed the subject.
''So, do I get a rematch next week with our duel?''
Tom sneered at him. ''You lost, you utter tosser. Hogwarts only decided to help you because Godric Gryffindor couldn't leave stuff alone, even from beyond the grave.''
Harry laughed, ''I think it has something to do with me being the heir of Gryffindor,''
''That's even worse! If news hits about you being the heir of Gryffindor, they will see you as the next Dumbledore or something.''
Harry grimaced at that image. ''Yeah, that's never going to happen. I will leave the twinkle out of my eyes. Thank you very much. And if you hadn't been such an idiot last year, you could go prancing around as the heir of Slytherin, but you made the whole school shiver in terror with your beast.''
''Don't bring Medusa into this!'' Tom hissed, and Harry honestly tried to bite back his laugh. But utterly failed. ''You called her Medusa?! Bit on the nose, isn't it? At least it's better than Death Eaters or Flight of Death.''
Tom was sulking in the chair and cast venomous glares at Harry while he laughed.
''Did you know how long it took to create Voldemort from my name? It was perfect, certainly after my first Horcrux.''
He shook his head, still chuckling. ''Death despises you for breaking your soul. You should fix it before you die.''
Tom shivered at that. He was still very, very, very afraid of dying, and he was certainly not willing to think about it for a long time. ''I will. Eventually.'' He added as an afterthought, and Harry raised his eyebrow in question, but Tom waved it away.
Tom looked behind him when they heard something and quickly cast a disillusionment charm on himself. Harry watched the Matron coming to him together with someone in Healer robes from St. Mungos.
''Mr. Peverell, this is Sennardi Yourna. He will lead the rituals to cleanse your body from the curse residue. Are you ready?''
Harry nodded, he knew that Tom was close by, but he didn't mind. He had gotten used to the git this summer, and they still trained together most of the time. It was a strange thought that Tom knew him the best of anyone out of this timeline.
''Well met, Healer Yourna.'' Harry nodded his head to the healer, and the man inclined his head back at him. ''Well met, Lord Peverell. Shall we get started?''
Harry nodded again, and the Healers helped him lie down before they started casting.
It took about an hour, and even if Harry wasn't the one doing the ritual, he was panting and sweating heavily. The Healers weren't any better, and after making sure Harry was comfortable, they left to get something to eat and some rest.
Harry was on the verge of falling asleep when he felt fingers comb through his hair. He sighed at the feeling, content to just let his mind drift with the fantasy.
Not knowing that those fingers belonged to his reluctant ally.
Harry was released from the depths of the Hospital wing over the weekend, much to his glee. He had received his schoolwork from Charlus when he had come to visit him again and had caught up already.
He had received a clean bill of health, even for Quidditch! Yes, he was still on a strict diet and potion regime, but according to the matron, he could at least play. She even cautiously encouraged the exercise.
So here he was at the Quidditch pitch with his broom, which was seriously so slow compared to his old Firebolt that he almost had wept during the first ride. But he still wanted to play Quidditch, so he would suck it up and train on this broom until he was the star seeker again.
During the tryouts, he was one of five that tried for Seeker, and honestly, he hadn't had much competition, so without breaking a sweat, he had received the Seeker spot.
Charlus and Bill had been exstatic. Charlus was Chaser and Bill a Beater, so the three of them were on the team together.
After tryouts, they had their first practice as a team, and Harry could see the potential in their team. He couldn't wait to beat the other house teams!
He was focused on the beater practice when green uniforms suddenly filed onto the field. He frowned down to the Slytherin team and descended with the rest of the team.
The Gryffindor captain, none other than Minerva McGonagall, stepped forwards to meet the Slytherin captain.
''Fletcher, what are you doing? We have reserved the pitch until four.'' She asked with a frown.
Fletcher smirked while he beckoned someone forward. ''We have received special permission to train our new Seeker. You don't mind sharing the pitch, right McGonagall?''
Harry got a flashback to his second year when Draco had made the team and foreboding when the Seeker in question stepped forwards.
''Riddle?'' He said incredulously.
The boy in question smirked at Harry.
''Hello, Peverell. Nice to see you made the team also. Maybe we can switch some tips for the coming games.'' Tom drawled, making Harry clench his teeth.
''You don't even like Quidditch!'' He blurted out, unaware of the stares of both of the teams on him and Riddle.
''I acquired a taste for the sport this summer,'' Tom replied evenly, even if Harry could see his eyes shimmer with unholy glee. Oh, that prick was going to pay in their next dueling training.
Harry let a grin overtake his face and reached out his hand to Tom. Tom narrowed his eyes for a moment before taking the hand.
''May the best Seeker win,'' Harry murmured before he turned to McGonagall.
''Minerva, I do think they need the pitch. I can't imagine working with a Seeker so.. unexperienced. They need all the practice they can get.''
McGonagall's mouth twitched, and the rest of the team did their best to hide their snickers. When Harry glanced back at the Slytherin team, he could see Tom seething, and he felt mischievous enough to wink at the boy before leaving with the Gryffindor team.
He will show Riddle. How dare he intrude on Harry's favorite activity? Harry knew for sure that Riddle hated Quidditch. Whenever Harry mentioned it during the summer, he groaned and ensured the topic would go to something else as quickly as possible.
Even if he went outside to fly with Harry, he never wanted to play a match. So why did Tom join the Slytherin team?
Harry could only come to one conclusion, and that was that Tom was up to something.
That same night he got a message from Mipsy from Tom. Asking him to join Tom in the ROR. Harry didn't question it. He wanted to meet Tom too if only to ask him what the hell he had been thinking in joining the team in a rival position to Harry's.
Harry still hadn't called upon the cloak but decided that he needed to do so if he wanted to meet Tom after curfew.
He made his excuses to his friends, who were playing exploding snap, before closing and warding the curtains around his bed.
Harry then focused on his magic and felt quite ridiculous to just 'call' for his cloak. But even without uttering a word, the cloak spread over his legs seemingly content to listen immediately. Harry grinned and stroked the cloak as if it was a living being.
''I missed you,'' The magic of the cloak seemed to respond eagerly to him, and he drew it around him before exiting the dorm.
It didn't take long to reach the ROR, a door was already waiting for him, and he quickly made his way through.
Tom was leaning against one of the bookcases with his ankles casually crossed. Harry swallowed. He hadn't forgotten Tom's admission to wanting Harry in his bed, and even if the room had taken the form of a study, Harry saw a bed standing not too far away.
But Harry pushed the thoughts away. He would never beg Tom for anything. Even if he looked delectable in this casual stand, with that curl of hair on his forehead and those arms bulking beneath his Slytherin robes...
FOCUS HARRY!
He whipped the cloak off him and carefully laid it down on the couch.
''What the hell were you thinking, joining the Slytherin team!? You hate Quidditch,'' He exclaimed, his eyes burning with indignant rage. This hadn't been in their plans at all!
''Hello to you too, Hadrian,'' Tom drawled. Harry wanted to throttle him.
Harry just glared for a moment before Tom sighed and stepped out of his leaning position.
''I thought it would be fun,''
''Fun? You don't even know how to have fun.'' Harry choked out.
Tom's eyes traveled over Harry's body. He repressed the shiver that overcame him, not wanting to give Tom the satisfaction that the action of looking put him on edge.
''Oh, I know plenty of having fun. It's just another form than you have experienced.''
Harry spluttered and pulled his wand out. ''Fuck you, let's duel. You need the training if you want to win next Thursday.''
Harry smirked when he saw an indignant flush on Tom's cheeks.
He yelped when the first spell was thrown at him with a speed he hadn't expected. But he responded in kind. They traded curses and hexes at an incredible speed, a lot quicker and more dangerous than in class, because they couldn't let anyone else know what they'd been doing.
Besides, who would think two sixteen-year-olds could stand a chance against Grindelwald? They would call their training a waste of time.
Especially Dumbledore, that bastard.
Harry scowled and threw an even darker curse at Tom, but he knew that Tom would evade it.
Dumbledore tried to hurt Tom, but to what end? He had never actively hurt Tom in Harry's former life. Could it have been the change that Harry had brought with him? Or did he just have a clear shot?
Dumbledore was an opportunist that much Harry knew, but he didn't know how far that would go.
''Are you bringing me to visit my family during winter break?'' Tom suddenly asked, distracting Harry enough to make him fall and lose his wand. Harry was panting and looked incredulously at Tom, who just played with their wands in his hand, looking incredibly smug.
''Uhm sure, but don't kill them. Dumbledore will know it's you. If you want them dead after meeting them, there are other ways.''
Tom chuckled. ''Look at the Gryffindor goody-two-shoes, 'don't kill them, Tom,' - 'you'll regret it, Tom,' Why would I regret it, Harry? Tell me, why would I possibly regret giving those filthy Muggles what they deserve?'' Tom was getting worked up. He was panting and clearly starting to become unhinged. He may have just one Horcrux, but it was clear that his mind wasn't complete.
''Tom, listen to me,'' Harry tried, holding up his hands and making Tom focus on him again. ''They're bastards, bastards, because your father left your mother and didn't come looking for you. Your grandparents willfully turned a blind eye to you, at least, that's what I think-'' Tom nodded at Harry's words, focused completely on his face trying to find a lie. ''But your mother wasn't a saint in this. She forced herself upon your father. Used a love potion to make him want her. Keep that in mind. Your father is probably traumatized after everything. So he will not like the reminder of your mother, which you are, with your magic and even just your existence.''
Tom swallowed harshly and looked away from Harry.
''I just don't understand how you can leave your family like that,'' Tom whispered, almost too soft for Harry to hear, but he did.
''I know what you mean. I got mad at my parents when I was younger, too. I got mad because even if they gave their lives for me, they left me way too young. They were hardly out of their teens themselves when they had me. They could've left England, especially after the Prophecy. They could've been there for me when I needed them. But eventually, they didn't. They chose the wrong friend to keep their secret, and they put their trust in Dumbledore. Instead of running with their family, they stayed in a land where war was raging, where they knew I wouldn't be safe.''
Tom was watching him during his tale and nodded after.
''You want a big family, don't you?'' Tom mused seriously, making Harry burst out in laughter.
''That's what you take from that?'' Harry laughed, and Tom nodded before answering seriously. ''Yes, and I believe you'll have that one day.''
Harry gave Tom a genuine smile.
''I hope so, one day.''
I hope you liked it!
Thank you for reading!
xx MBlack93
Oh yeah, we definitely hate Dumbledore in this fic. Obviously.