Dissindere Temporalis
So here we are, finally!
This chapter was a struggle, not because I didn't have ideas, but because this chapter is an important one that will be kicking off a lot of future plot points.
Also it was the return of the Tom perspective, so I hope you all enjoy your sane!Tom.
Quite a bit of action in this one folks, so let's enjoy.
Also, side note, I have been posting a bit on my tumblr. Misscricketfics. Hopefully you stop by! Also my discord is also the place to hang and chat. I love hearing everyone's thoughts over there.
Without further ado, please enjoy!
Semel Futurum
Tom had always believed he was special.
Alone in the Orphanage, eyes burning with tears he refused to shed, curled up in a ball in his bed, he'd told himself, comforted himself with the belief.
One day, he'd told himself, one day he would be someone, and all those who had doubted and hurt him would be sorry.
He'd hated the other children, hated them because they either feared him, feared him because he was strange, because weird things happened around him, feared him because he fought back, or they hated him in turn.
They hated him because he was too smart, they saw him as a show-off. They hated that he made them feel stupid and inferior, they hated that he was better than them. They hated that they were frightened of him.
They hated him, they feared him, because he was different.
Meeting Tia, his staunch defender and one of the adults he most respected, changed his life. It was the first time someone had seen he was special, and not be afraid of him. There had been no fear, no revulsion, no judgement. She'd seen him… and she'd understood.
Then he'd met the others.
His… friends.
It was still strange to call them that, to know that despite his hard won instincts warning him to trust no one, that in actuality he did trust these young men and women.
No one at the Orphanage had been worthy of trust.
But these… they were his.
Harry was his Dimitera, his equal, his balance, the light to his dark. They had brother wands, they had a bond that transcended time itself. A bond bound by magic.
He'd never thought he'd ever see anyone as his equal.
Harry was.
Oh he didn't have his thirst for knowledge, his hunger to lead, but he had other qualities that elevated him.
And where once, a frightened, deeply angry orphan boy might have seen them as weak. Now…now he could see the strength.
Hermione was brilliant, with that passion for knowledge that he appreciated and encouraged, but she was limited by her reverence in books and rules. Sometimes the rules needed to be broken.
Sometimes 'the way things are' limited you.
It was a fascinating contradiction, a woman who had given her friends the information, the research and the knowledge to be able to do something almost unfathomable, to take a huge gamble and push magic in a way he'd never heard of, and the girl who sometimes couldn't look beyond the facts to what could be.
From the safety of facts to shattering the timeline, and reforging it.
How many witches and wizards could have attempted that?
It wasn't all Hermione of course. She'd provided the knowledge, Ron had provided the strategic plan, Malfoy had provided the application and Harry… his Harry had provided the inspiration, the drive, the out of the box thinking.
They made a good team.
Ron was the bridge between Harry's incredible ability to think on his feet, and Hermione's vast knowledge pool. He was able to apply their strengths in a practical way, much like the Ravenclaw Malfoy did. Ron was more dynamic, more aggressive, practical but also engaged. Malfoy was more cerebral, application but measured and careful, checking and rechecking.
He appreciated Ron's mind, appreciated the way he stuck by his friends, and how he was ordinary but also extraordinary. A loyal friend, brave, determined, and with a talent that needed to be cultivated. A talent that had been hindered by his lack of confidence.
He was growing more and more in this time. Tom found that thrilling.
The Ravenclaw Malfoy had always confused him. The boy had feared him, like the orphan children, but he'd never acted on it. In fact he'd obviously been trying to ignore it, to fight it. That was unusual, strange, and unfamiliar to Tom.
Now he respected him.
It was never easy to confront your biases, your mistakes and to try and make it better. To not shy away from ugly reality and regret and self loathing and instead use it to drive you forward. He'd once been a bigoted bully, a loathsome boy who pretended strength, but only had the spine to try and save himself and his family.
He was bitter, broken in ways that he hid from Harry and the others. He couldn't bear to show them those broken pieces.
But he'd shown Tom.
He'd bared himself to Tom, making himself vulnerable to his greatest fear in order to make things right.
That was courage, no matter how much he thought himself a coward.
Then there were the others, the others of this time.
Bash, his almost brother. Dry, witty, with that casual elegance he appreciated. Sebastian was smarter than he pretended, charming, roguish and deeply cunning. Someone he enjoyed, felt comfortable with, and trusted.
Aurora, his mirror image, dark like him, powerful too, but with a well of hate to her that sometimes gave him pause. She had a cruelty to her, a coldness, but he knew that it was all for them. She loved them so fiercely, she could do the unspeakable, the unforgivable if only it made them safe, or punished those who hurt them.
She was too much like him.
And it hurt too much to think of how he would have encouraged those crueller tendencies in another time. How Voldemort would have found her a perfect ally, especially when twisted and broken.
And then…
Then there was Tierra.
By all logic he should despise her.
Weak, sentimental, emotional, crippled by affection.
And yet he found himself inexorably drawn to her.
Tierra had never feared him, had never hated him. She was comfortable in his presence, friendly and gentle. She never demanded anything nor did she prattle into the silence when they sat in their tower room together and studied.
In fact something about her had made him want to talk.
Tierra and Harry were probably the only two that knew of the reality of the Orphanage. Harry had seen it in that previous life through memories, but Tierra was the one he'd spoken about it with.
Her presence was calm, safe, and he'd found himself talking, sharing. She had listened, those soft eyes watching him, but there had been no pity on her face, merely acceptance. Even when he told her of the cruel things he'd done… she'd simply accepted it.
She'd simply accepted him.
He knew she'd never share what he told her, she'd rather die than betray a friend, and something about that, the knowledge he was safe, made it easier.
She was too kind to hold the knowledge over him, too loyal to betray him, too soft to hurt him with the secrets he'd entrusted and too sweet to condemn him for the darker side of his nature.
She felt like coming in from a cold night and a fire already burning in the grate waiting. She felt like… like home.
It was a ridiculous sentiment. But he couldn't think of a better way to word it.
Safe.
Sometimes he found himself watching her, the way her lips were always slightly curled up in a tiny secret smile. The way her round face and delicate features were always peaceful. Sometimes he thought about how she was his complete opposite, a child raised in a family of love and support, kind and generous, loyal and sensitive.
So he watched her, fascinated.
He watched the way her hair would slip from its ties, and brush against her cheek, her neck, her arm.
He watched the way she would daydream, or stare into the distance as she thought about what to write.
He watched her laugh with her friends, or pet the magical creatures she loved.
He watched her, and wondered if she was truly that naive. If she was truly so oblivious to how much the world would crush and break and destroy that light within her.
Or if she knew… and chose the opposite.
She felt…like a dream. Like something that could be broken or stolen.
And then, he found out that she had been.
He imagined Voldemort, that dark, twisted version of himself that had never left the Orphan behind. Voldemort who had never experienced trust, loyalty or support. Voldemort who didn't have Tia's staunch defense.
Voldemort who didn't have Harry.
He could easily see that side of himself, see how easy it would have been to harden his heart to everyone and only see them as pawns, pieces, usable and expendable according to his will and whim.
He knew in his bones that Voldemort would have known Tierra. He would have been drawn to her in the same way.
She would have been his secret, his moment of weakness. He would never have shared it with the boys he associated with, for fear they might use it against him. He who had nothing, could lose nothing.
But…
He'd lost her.
She'd been stolen by death, the thing he'd most hated and feared.
He could not let that happen again.
Tom had always known he was special. His friends only confirmed that.
No one would take them from him.
"Ostara?" Aurora arched her eyebrow at him as she considered the piece of parchment he'd given her, "Makes sense as a great many institutions and societies historically initiate members during that festival."
"Wouldn't Beltane be better?" Druella leaned over to read the notes, "It's a powerful holiday…"
"Traditionally, no." Aurora mused idly, reading, "Beltane is a festival of strengthening ties that already exist, rather than the creation of new ones. Fertility and so on… a simplified example but…"
"Still relevant," Bash mused, perched on the arm of the armchair. The four of them were hanging out in the Undercroft while Ron, Ross and Kara practised duelling in the Room observed by a supportive Kel and a heckling Victoria. The others were off somewhere else, Harry at Quidditch, Hermione in the Library with Draco, Abraxas hiding from Bletchley somewhere.
Tom wasn't sure where Tierra was.
"Of course," Aurora shot Bash a wry look, "Ostara is the Spring equinox. New beginnings and so on…"
"It's so soon," Druella's voice was quiet, "Do you think the others will go for it? This is a big step Tom…"
"I know." he sighed, and he did know, but he also had a feeling, something gnawing at his gut that he was running out of time to do this. That it was important.
He trusted his gut.
He trusted the magic he suspected was trying to influence him.
Druella was still watching him, and she must have seen something on his face because she simply sighed and turned back to the parchment.
"Vic and Ross are going to be the two that argue." Aurora pointed out, "They don't believe in mysticism…"
"Ross has already expressed his interest in it," Tom informed them, and smiled a little at the three identical looks of incredulity, "I know, I must admit I was shocked myself."
"Ross, our Ross, wants to pursue the Coven idea?" Druella looked sceptical, "He's always been so vocally against it…"
"I think the attack on Kel and Kara may have changed his mind," Tom murmured, watching them intently.
Druella's face cleared, sympathy in her expression, whereas Aurora's face darkened, fingers tightening on the parchment. She'd already expressed her opinion on their retribution on Walburga, labelling it as too little, too soft. She'd wanted to use the curse on her in turn, to give her a taste.
Tom had quietly not disagreed, but had known that it was a bad idea.
The more he learned about the Unforgivables, the more he realised how perverse and against the natural balance of magic they were.
Spells that could not be blocked, could not be countered.
They were truly evil, not dark, but twisted versions of magic.
And all of them exacted a price from the one who cast it.
But he agreed, their punishment for Walburga was too soft. That would have to be rectified.
Such an act could not go unpunished. Attacking Tom himself was one thing, he could handle himself, he could handle anything…
But those he considered his? His sweet Seer, his fire-haired Kara, his charming, cheeky Ross?
It made something icy tingle through his veins.
Bash meanwhile sighed softly.
"There are some things that need to be decided before then. We have fourteen, that's a powerful number, but we need to balance light, dark and the elements for maximum potency."
Tom nodded, he'd already been considering that.
Aurora sighed gustily, "We have even numbers of light and dark. But we're still not certain of the elements."
"There isn't a test for that, either we'll be balanced or we won't be." Druella pointed out, folding her arms, "But we can take a guess."
"The only ones that worry me are you, Tom, Harry and Tierra." Bash mused, "I think you all have two elements."
Tom arched his eyebrow at his friend, surprised, "How do you figure that?"
"Harry is the most obvious." Bash smirked faintly, "Fire, your opposite. But he also favours Air. What do you get when you mix Fire and Air, Tom?"
"Lightning…" Aurora was the one to answer, smirking faintly.
Tom felt something thrill in his bones, "And me?"
"The opposite, as always." Bash shot him a small grin, "Water. And yet the same… Air."
Tom blinked at him, "You think we share Air?"
All three of them nodded.
"You're all icy," Druella pointed out, "Snow and ice and like a blizzard when you're cranky."
Aurora made a whooshing sound and wiggled her fingers like snowflakes.
He gave the girls a look and they giggled back at him.
Once no one would have giggled at him.
He couldn't bring himself to truly be cross that it had changed..
"And the Hufflepuff?" he asked, sniffing, pretending disdain.
Just because he didn't mind it, didn't mean he had to tell them so.
Bash was the one to answer this one, "She shares Fire with Harry… but she's Earth too."
He grudgingly had to admit that that sounded right.
"I'm pure Water." Aurora admitted with a haughty sniff, "The element of depth."
"Wishy washy." Bash snickered, and yelped as she shoved him off the chair arm, "Ow! Blimey, woman."
Tom rolled his eyes at them, "That's still pretty balanced."
"It is," Druella agreed, a little smile tugging up her lips, "Funny how things work out, isn't it…"
Tom nodded, sighing fondly as Bash and Aurora devolved into shooting little jinxes at each other.
"Now we just have to do it."
As predicted, Victoria was the one unhappy about it, but she surprisingly didn't argue.
Tom was watching her when the topic was broached, and saw her swift frown, before her eyes flicked towards Ross, towards Kel.
She stayed silent.
It seemed that Walburga's attack had worked in their favour, making Ross and Victoria, their two sceptics, realise their friends needed more protection.
"Are you nervous?" Harry asked Tom quietly in an aside when the group split off to chat.
"Absolutely not."
Harry's lips curved into a small smirk, "You know people generally only use absolutely when they are lying."
Tom narrowed his eyes at him and that smirk broadened into a smile.
"Go away, Harry."
"Sure thing, Tom."
Ostara was on a Friday that year and they'd elected to perform their ritual in the Chamber of Secrets.
There had been a hotly contested debate about whether they should go to the Hawthorne's but since it was just a normal weekend by Hogwarts standards, it would mean drawing attention.
That was what had decided it for most of them, since none of them wanted too much scrutiny on their actions.
Hermione had dug up the actual ritual from an old Tome from her endless bag, one that was both ancient and seemed to hum with power,
"We stand somewhere at a time of day we decide most fits our ritual, and we stand in the shape of a Tetradecagon."
"A what now?" Ron cocked his head at her.
"Tetradecagon." Ron blinked cluelessly, "Honestly, Ron! A fourteen sided shape."
"Oh okay…" he nodded, winking at Tom when Hermione wasn't looking, and Tom covered his smile with his hand.
And all that had been left was to choose the place.
In the end the Chamber was deemed the most secure.
"It wasn't found for centuries, the place is clearly magically shielded." Victoria informed them, rolling her eyes, "And since none of us want Dumbledore paying special attention…"
Harry looked at his shoes, abashed, as Tom's nose crinkled in distaste.
"What if it goes wrong?" Hermione asked, wringing her hands, "No one will know how to find us…"
"Presumably one of us would be in enough shape to get help." Abraxas' expression was torn between excitement and doubt, "Are we sure this is a good idea though?"
"Nope." Bash drawled.
"Oh that's reassuring." Kara snarked back, grinning nervously, clearly undaunted, "Adventures always have risks."
"Too right," Ron nodded, Druella holding onto his hand tightly, "especially when Harry's involved."
"Hey!"
"He's not wrong, Potter." Draco drawled, smirking, "All of your adventures are dangerous."
Harry flipped him a rude gesture which made him and a number of the others laugh.
Tom smiled too.
"We can't be sure, but… this feels right. We will need each other in the years to come."
Everyone nodded.
And so the wait began.
"We're going to be trying something new today."
Tia's voice rose above the chatter of the Defense Club which immediately hushed as everyone looked to her with interest.
"All of you are doing well with single Duels. Today I want you to look at Duelling in a pair. Can anyone tell me what Magic in Concert is?"
Hermione's hand shot up, eliciting fond grins from her friends. She still hadn't lost the habit, something that amused Tom, having seen it in Draco's memories.
"Miss Granger?"
"Concert magic is two or more people working together, not only on the same side but even on the same spells."
"Very good, 10 points to Slytherin." Tia moved forward, "Concert magic in Duelling is both easier and more challenging. It involves a great deal of trust to be performed competently. And it is why Paired Duels are often seen as a far greater test of magical competency, than single Duels."
Tom arched an eyebrow, intrigued.
"There needs to be a level of compatibility, there needs to be trust and there needs to be magical competency. This is one of those areas, much like wandlore, that is still a mystery to us."
They were all sent off to practice but Tia called Harry and Tom over to her instead, "Mr Potter, Mr Riddle. You both have brother wands."
"We're aware." Tom drawled and ducked as she cuffed at his head fondly, "What about it?"
"Brother wands will never perform well against each other, but the reverse is true about casting in concert." Tia informed them, "The magic you perform together will be exponentially more powerful than others working in tandem."
That got his attention.
"Really?" Harry sounded interested too, "I knew about our wands being unwilling to fight each other…"
Tom nodded, remembering his story of the Priori Incantatem.
"Makes sense that the opposite would be true…" He mused, intrigued, wondering if Harry's wand would work as well in his hand as his own, "well I shall be very curious to see this in action."
Tia looked a little concerned, "I worry you'll injure your classmates…"
"You think it might be that powerful?" Harry's expression now matched hers, "You think we should pair with others, instead of each other?"
Oh no…
"This isn't a bad thing, Potter." Tom immediately argued, "We should see."
He was not letting his Dimitera's noble ideas of fairness stop them from reaching or discovering their potential.
"I agree with Tom, to an extent. We should see," Tia sighed, "I just want you to be careful, alright? Be aware that you're likely to be significantly more powerful than the others. I don't want you hurting them, understood?"
Both boys nodded, and she sent them off to practise.
"Interesting," Bash murmured, as they shared what Tia had said with him and Abraxas, who were practising beside them, "Wandlore and Dimitera are such obscure branches of magic. Trust you two to be so odd…"
Tom shot a stinging jinx at his rear, making him yelp.
Abraxas snorted softly, "Wands have a mind of their own."
"Wands have allegiance," Harry mused, keeping his voice very low. It wasn't a commonly known fact, something they'd found out the first time around, something that had led to Voldemort's defeat. This time around Tom was intrigued by the concept, the sentience of magic and the wands that channelled its will. "Unless I win the loyalty of a wand, or it chooses to work for me…"
Abraxas looked fascinated and began murmuring to Harry, curious questions that Tom half wanted to hear.
But his attention was caught by Bash, whose expression had shifted to that thoughtful one that he had when his theories started to come together.
"What?" he asked his best friend and Bash blinked at him innocently.
"What, what?"
"Don't what, what me." Tom snarked, rolling his eyes, "I know that look. You had a thought."
"Is it so rare that I think?" Bash pressed a hand to his chest, "You wound me,"
"You're deflecting,"
"I was unaware that I'd cast any shield spells,"
"Bash!"
His best friend grinned and then his expression shifted, to something more serious, more intent.
"It's a theory I've been considering. I'll share it with you when I have more…"
Tom paused.
A part of him wanted to demand the answers. His skin crawled when he thought of Voldemort, another form of himself who would have simply taken them.
"You'll tell me when you do?"
Bash's gaze softened a little and he nudged his shoulder into Tom's.
"I promise."
It wasn't too long before everyone was called back to the Duelling Circle to put to practise what they'd learned.
"Who do you want to face?" He asked Harry quietly, "Who will hold their own?"
His Dimitera considered, "Ron and Hermione?"
"They are experienced, and they do know all your tells." Tom mused, smirking faintly when Harry shoved him, "Ron is paired with Druella however."
He ran his eyes over the others, dismissing Victoria and Kel, as well as Abraxas and Bash after a moment.
"I think it's between Hermione and Tierra or Ross and Kara."
Harry's eyebrows quirked up, "Two Gryffindors vs Two Slytherins? How stereotypical."
"Kara will be attack, Ross defense." Tom mused, eyeing them before shaking his head slowly, "No, not them."
"Why?"
"Robins… hasn't gotten his confidence back from the other week."
Harry's green eyes locked on his face, "You're worried?"
"No. I just don't wish to make him feel worse. He needs encouragement, not embarrassment."
Something bright shone in Harry's gaze, "Okay. Hermione and Tierra? Unless you want to face one of the others outside our group?"
Tom sniffed, "Hardly a challenge then is it? Maybe Malfoy and Aurora first… they are tricky, and would make a good test."
Harry rolled his eyes, and signalled to Draco who signalled back with a rude hand gesture that made Harry snort and Tom snicker.
Sure enough a few miserably pathetic duels later the four of them stepped into the ring.
"Scared Potter?" Draco snarked at Harry as he swept past, and Harry rolled his eyes again.
"You roll your eyes so often you'll get a strain." Tom informed him, and his Dimitera shoved him fondly.
"Duellists ready?" Tia called.
Tom's gaze flicked between the two Ravenclaws and nodded.
"Begin!"
It was a surprisingly vicious duel.
Draco and Aurora were well matched, both of them showing off their natural sneakiness with jinxes and mild curses, but were continually frustrated by Harry's shields, bolstered by Tom.
Especially since every time Malfoy conjured a shield, they shattered it with almost insulting ease.
"Time's up." Tia called, and Aurora scowled, narrowing her eyes at them.
Where the two were dishevelled and bore some marks of spellwork that had hit them, Tom and Harry were untouched.
"What was that?" Draco hissed at Harry as they all moved to the back of the group, "I've seen your shields Potter, they're good but not that good."
Tom smirked as Harry quietly explained about the Brother wands and Dimitera, watching as Ross and Kara went up against two of their fellow Gryffindors.
"Interesting." Draco's face was thoughtful, "Bash is right, this is an obscure and often overlooked branch of magic. I remember you gave me back my hawthorn wand after the final battle, but it never really worked for me again. I bought a new wand..."
"I won its allegiance." Harry murmured, "Or so Ollivander said."
"Fascinating," Aurora mused, dark eyes gleaming, "The more we learn about this, the more I realise the Hogwarts curriculum is incredibly sanitised."
Tom nodded, "I want to try using your wand sometime, Potter." he murmured, "I'd be curious as to whether it would work well in my hands."
"Here." Aurora neatly nipped it out of Harry's hand and cast, producing a weak rush of sparks, "That feels wrong,"
"Aurora," Harry sounded exasperated, snagging his wand back before hesitating and offering it to Tom.
Silently he took it and felt warmth rush through him, warmth like a breath of summer air.
Warmth like fire, like air, like Harry.
He knew it would work. Maybe not perfectly, nor as perfectly as with its true owner. But it would work better than it had for Aurora.
Silently he offered his Yew in return and saw Harry's eyes widen as he took it.
It seemed the same was true of him.
"It feels like… like a winter's wind." Harry breathed, "It will work."
"Same with yours." He offered the wand back and gratefully received his own in return, feeling it almost purr its pleasure at being returned where it should be.
"Fascinating indeed," Aurora mused, eyebrow arched with intrigue.
Tom considered the remaining matches, but was only half paying attention, considering everything he'd learned.
He'd thought he was strong before.
But with Harry at his side that strength was so much greater.
And now he couldn't help but wonder.
After Ostara…how much more powerful would they be?
It was still dark on Friday 20 March when Tom's wand alerted him to it being time to wake.
Kel had been the one to calculate that dawn was probably the time they wanted to conduct the ritual, as according to calculations it was the best time for magic relating to new beginnings and hopeful things.
So before dawn it was, and Tom felt his nerves fizzing with joy and excitement.
It had been years in the making, and now the moment was here.
Abraxas was swift to wake, but Bash and Harry were bleary as they got ready, keeping quiet so as not to wake their roommates.
They met the girls in the common room, Druella perfectly put together, while Hermione's hair tumbled everywhere in a riot. Both, however, were bright eyed with excitement.
The Slytherin contingent reached the bathroom first, but the Ravenclaws swiftly joined them.
Aurora was practically vibrating with eager excitement, while on the other end of the scale, Victoria looked pensive.
Harry pulled her aside, clearly asking her if she was sure.
Tom let him. He was better at that.
And out of everyone, Victoria was the one he least understood.
Or rather, he understood her too well.
He understood her jaded world view. He understood having such a bleak view of human nature.
What he didn't understand was how she couldn't see that they were special. That she was special in her own way.
How could someone so intelligent, so shrewd, be so lacking in ambition and drive?
The Gryffindors were next, Robins looking like a man sleep walking, where Kara was bright eyed and eager.
Weasley meanwhile found his way over to Kel, who smiled shyly at him as they murmured together, her fingers wringing together anxiously.
Tom knew that she was worried about this, as it was a huge moment in regards to the future and their part within it, but he wasn't sure how to comfort her. It was good then that Weasley was tending to her.
She'd admitted to Potter that she was a little afraid that she'd get visions after the ritual.
It seemed that Weasley was being protective. That was good.
Finally their perpetually-late Hufflepuff turned up, hair touseled and smile clearly still sleepy.
"Why must you always cut it so close to being late?" Aurora snarked in annoyance as Potter hissed the entrance open. They'd cleaned the chute by now, so the swift way in was now also not going to leave them with gunk all over their clothes and hair.
"Sorry," Tierra looked genuinely contrite, "I find it hard to get out of bed sometimes."
"That's called laziness Hawthorne." Draco shook his head at her, "Punctuality is Politeness."
Tierra shrugged, as everyone started sliding down the pipe, and Tom let his gaze linger on her for a moment, taking her in for a moment, before she too disappeared down the pipe.
He was the last, closing it behind them as he slid through the darkness.
Nathaira was waiting for them in the central chamber, huge head considering them all as they entered.
"They no longer seem to fear me." she mused to him and Harry, her head gently nudging the green eyed boy in a gesture of affection. Apparently the revelation he'd killed her in a previous time hadn't diminished her fondness for the boy, rather it had made her even more affectionate.
He'd proven his strength, his warrior credentials.
Snakes had a strange way of acquiring friends.
"They've gotten used to you." Harry assured her, looking bashful as he always did.
"I am glad." She turned her head and rested her nose gently against Kara's chest, meeting her gaze with her own protectively lidded one, "I cannot believe your tale says I would harm her."
Tom and Harry shared a look, as Kara stroked the serpent's scales gently.
It was a common comment, one that Nathaira had said many times once she realised that her original masters commands had been warped to be a hatred of those now called muggleborns.
They'd used Kara as an example.
Nathaira had then decided that Kara was her favourite.
Luckily Kara seemed to enjoy her status as the Basilisk's Most Favourite, and had learned all the places the serpent liked to be scratched.
After the Basilisk had been given her due affection and had slithered back to observe, the fourteen of them moved to the inner chambers, emerging into the room with the giant, ancient English oak at the centre, bathed in a single ray of pale pre-dawn light.
At dawn the sunlight would pierce the room, and bathe the garden in its light.
But it was not yet dawn.
And all of them paused, gathering together on the edge of the grass, Nathaira slithering into the shadows to observe.
"Are you all sure?" Harry asked, expression concerned as he looked at all of their friends.
Everyone nodded and Tom felt something thrum under his skin.
"Alright," he said, and he could hear the anticipation in his voice, "Hermione, if you would please draw the shape."
"The Tetradecagon." Hermione corrected, scowling at him even as she waved her wand.
"Whatever." Ron smirked, and Tom chuckled.
Slowly a shape formed on the ground, on the rough stone path surrounding the tree. A large almost-circle, made up of fourteen points.
Each of the points glowed.
Red for fire, green for earth, white for air, and blue for water, repeating all around the shape.
And on opposite sides of the Tetradecagon.
One black point.
And on the other side, one that gleamed golden.
"Choose the spot that feels right for you." Hermione said, voice trembling a little as the silence fell around the dome.
Everyone glanced at one another, nervous, before slowly Harry, loyal, determined and brave, Harry stepped forward onto the spot that gleamed golden.
His gaze met Tom's, challenging, a little nervous, and full of promise.
Tom didn't hesitate.
As he stood on the black point, he felt the rightness of it in his bones.
Ron and Hermione were next, taking the green and red marks on either side of Harry. They'd earned that place, and they were loyal to him first and foremost, not Tom.
It was Bash and Aurora who took the air and water places on either side of Tom, steady and confident, and he felt something shiver in the air. Like pieces slotting into place.
Draco was next, stepping beside Ron, also on Harry's side of the shape.
Kel stepped to Draco's side, as Druella joined Hermione. Then it was Victoria beside Kel, and Abraxas beside Druella.
Ross moved beside Bash, and Kara moved to the other side, standing quietly beside Aurora.
Tierra was last. The final piece.
She stepped forward, taking her place between Ross and Abraxas.
And the lines began to glow, just as the sun began to shine down on the Ancient Oak.
"Earth," Hermione began, and if her voice had shaken before, now it was trembling, "we call thee."
All of the green spots glowed brighter and all of them could smell the scent of fresh earth.
"Whoa." Ross breathed.
"Air," Bash's voice was steady, unhurried, "we call thee."
The white lights shone, joining the green, and a breeze rippled around the circle, stirring the air..
"Water." Aurora's voice was strong, eager, "We call thee."
They could hear the sounds of rain and the blue lights surged and rippled into life.
"Fire," Weasley called, "We call thee."
Warmth rushed over them all, like a blanket, and the magic rushed into the middle.
"Light," Harry's voice was soft, "We call thee."
The sunlight intensified, bright and comforting.
And Tom sucked in a soft breath.
"Dark," he murmured, "We call thee."
The light and dark curled around each other, and the soft light of dawn washed over them. The remnants of dark, the beginnings of night.
Everything hung there for a long moment, almost in anticipation, like it was waiting for something.
Like something was missing.
Tom looked towards Hermione who looked perplexed, and then at Harry who was looking at Hermione too. Then he turned to Bash.
His friend was looking beyond him, but he didn't get a chance to look at what as the magic suddenly was in movement.
His clothes flapped against and around him, and his hair was whipping about, dishevelled out of its usual pristine style.
It was like being in a maelstrom, a storm of magic, and he couldn't look at anyone because it was both around him and within him.
I am here.
He felt the words rather than heard them.
And they weren't even words. It was more of a feeling, a sensation, a force.
And they felt like hammers on his bones, like music in his ears, like the most unearthly of howls, and the most familiar, the most haunting of hugs.
He felt tears fill his eyes.
And then suddenly it was dark, almost black, but as his eyes adjusted he realised it was simply a grey, a half light.
Mist.
Water rippled at his ankles.
It was silent.
He was alone.
Or... was he?
Slowly he lifted his head and took in the sight of the figure from the vision they'd had at All Hallows Eve.
Beautiful.
Twisted.
Ancient.
Youthful.
"What are you?" he asked, and it felt like his voice was washed away by the river, "Where am I?"
The figure smiled, a smile that was both kind, and impossibly sad, "Between."
Tom frowned, looking around again, "Between what?"
"Between life and death…" the figure moved through the water and Tom followed, "Between here and there… Between light and dark."
Tom licked his lips, "Limbo?" He asked, remembering Harry's explanation, and Voldemort's final fate, trapped forever between life and death.
"Some call it this."
They continued to walk, "Why am I here?" Tom asked, "Did I die?"
"No." The voice was gentle, "But you need to understand."
"Understand what?" He asked,
"Everything has a price." the figure murmured.
Tom frowned, thoroughly confused but also intrigued as he followed the figure.
"There are many gates to death," the figure turned to look at him, "There is but one gate to life."
"Are you Death?" Tom asked, he had a suspicion now, "From the story of the Three Brothers?"
"No." the figure smiled softly, "But the one in the story was also not Death. Death simply is. Just as Life."
He gestured and Tom turned to see that the river was flowing in a single direction, into the mists. "The river takes them on. It is not something to fear."
"Then…" Tom reached out and touched the figure's sleeve, feeling it slip through his fingers like the silkiest of satin, "Who was…who was Death? In the story?"
"One who does not Live." the figure smiled at his frustration, "One who sacrificed Life itself to protect the Magic."
"So he… exists?"
The figure nodded slowly, "He sacrificed much to save what he loved. And in turn lost what he once had been."
Tom frowned, "Why are you telling me this?"
A pale, long fingered hand cradled his cheek and he looked up at the figure, who was impossibly sad, huge dark eyes gazing into his very soul.
"This is your second chance. The only one you will receive. Only you and your Dimitera can restore the Magic and part the mists."
He felt something thrill in his stomach, "How?"
"You are already on your way." The figure smiled once more and it was both joyful and tragic, "History does not flow one way. It repeats. The patterns remain."
Tom made a frustrated sound, "Why can't you give me a clear answer?"
A laugh, a sound lost in the fog, but not cruel.
The figure stepped back, "I can guide. I cannot do more."
"Then guide me, give me more than this."
The figure considered him, and then swept its hand across the mist.
In the curls of white air, Tom saw.
He saw a red haired man wearing armour, proud and fierce, reach down and pluck a crown from the hands of a dying man.
He saw a man with dark hair move beside him, blue eyes intent on his face, "Albion is yours."
"I must return to Britain. He must now give me the Sword." the red haired man murmured, clearly dazed, before he turned to the dark haired man, "The others? Vivienne? Charlotte? Are they safe?"
"Yes." the dark haired man's eyes gleamed, with joy, with belief, he wasn't sure, "You did it. You will shape this Kingdom into the haven of magic, it was always meant to be. This is your destiny."
"We need to pass through the Mists to Britain. I need the sword…"
"Why do you need that pale imitation?" The dark haired man scowled, "It's not the true sword, THE sword. His was made, and shaped. And it's terribly gaudy."
"Now you sound like your mentor." The king grinned, "I need that sword to prove that people should follow me, not him. I need something Merlin, something to show that I am the hope for this land of Albion, that Britain… we should leave that for the mundane."
The dark haired man, Merlin, Slytherin House's most famous member, sighed. "If he refuses, can we try it my way?"
The red-headed King, Arthur, it must be, grinned.
"Fine, Merlin. If he refuses… we'll try it your way."
The mist swirled and the two men were gone, replaced by a hall. The King, Arthur, stood before a gleaming assembly, and his hand reached out, "May I present to you my Queen."
Tom looked to the side and saw Merlin, so close he could almost touch him, "Don't do it Arthur," he whispered, "Don't…"
"Guinevere…"
Merlin's eyes closed, and the vision shattered like glass.
Tom turned to the figure, "Why show me this?"
"Because you will need it." The figure turned and walked away, "All things connect. The wheel of time spins."
"Tell me!" Tom shouted, confused and frustrated, "Why!"
"Remember…"
The Mist closed in around him, tight, comforting, and then slowly disappeared, leaving him standing in the circle once more, light beaming down on the Ancient Oak before them and surrounded by his friends.
And for a moment, as the mist faded he could see the lines, stretching between them all, bright, glowing…
And then it was gone.
They all left the Chamber in silence, all contemplating what they'd just experienced. But Tom had come to the realisation they'd all had individual visions. His had been specific to him, and the others, had experienced their own.
He was curious, terribly curious, but since he was unwilling to share his own vision, at least not before he'd had time to consider what he'd seen, he forced his curiosity to subside.
What was even more interesting was he had this vague feeling of the others. Nothing so specific as knowing what they were feeling or where they were. But more of a sense.
During the first class he could get a general vibe that Aurora was bored. She was one of the strongest he could feel, and he suspected it was a consequence of them being closer than some of the others.
Bash as well, slightly stronger than the others, more of a concrete feeling than just a general sense of him.
Harry, he kept getting occasional spikes from, of things like amusement or annoyance. Understandable since he was his Dimitera, his balance. The Light to his Dark.
Tierra too was stronger than most of the others, but she was calm, unruffled. If anything he was getting more sleepiness from her.
So he experimented by sending sharp annoyance directed at her.
She startled awake, and now he could feel her own annoyance too.
He grinned.
That would prove to be entertaining.
His Charms and then Transfiguration work came from him easier too, they drained him less than they had the day before. It made sense, the Coven was designed to increase their magical potential, but they still needed the knowledge and the skill to make it work.
History of Magic gave him time to consider what he'd seen.
Merlin, dark haired and angular. Gawky in a way, not conventionally handsome, rather like a stringbean. But he'd had a soothing voice, something musical in it, or maybe that was just the sad lilt of the Welsh accent on his tongue.
Merlin, Slytherin's most famous member.
Merlin, one of the most powerful and revered sorcerers of all time.
And King Arthur.
Tom was less interested in him, though curious as to the legendary figure of British folklore, and the confusing accounts that had followed.
But Merlin…
What was the lesson he was supposed to learn from the vision?
Why Merlin and Camelot and King Arthur?
He supposed, only time would tell.
To Be Continued...
Next time: Interlude II
Review Responses
amk41196 - Oh believe me, the slug prank is just the opening salvo. Tom is pissed.
Shiara - Absolutely. It's easy to think it's normal for people to be noble and self sacrificing when all we see is Harry's POV, but Harry isn't the norm, he's incredibly special. To give a real world example a friend of mine was riding the train one evening and she saw a girlfriend and boyfriend arguing. The train car was full of about 20 people but only two got up and followed them towards the door between carriages, where he grabbed her and shoved her against the divider. They were in the open air between carriages rattling through a tunnel and she was half over the edge. My friend and the other woman rushed forward, the only two to, and he shoved the girlfriend back at them and ran as soon as the train pulled in to the stop. The other woman ran after him, she was a cop it turned out and she quickly said thanks to my friend for the help. She caught him, the girlfriend trailing after her, sobbing the whole way as the train left. She was shocked that out of a full carriage, everyone else had simply sat and looked away... I've never forgotten that story.
Smithback - Absolutely, I mean we know Brax, and Bash were with him the first time. Chances are Aurora and Druella were at least sort of a part of it, as the partners of others who were, like Rexton Lestrange.
IamLou - I'm so glad you are enjoying! And I hope you continue to do so!
