Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the Harry Potter universe. All recognizable characters, plots, and settings are the exclusive property of J.K Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.
Acknowledgements: Thank you to my editor Athena Hope, as well as my betas 3CP, Fezzik, Luq707, Raven0900, Regress, Thanos, and Yoshi89 for their work on this story.
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Harry Potter and the Conjoining of Paragons
By ACI100
Chapter 30: Wrong Place, Wrong Time
May 11, 1943
The Hospital Wing
9:14 PM
Harry did not remember climbing the Astronomy Tower, but it was where he found himself. The sun had long-since set and any light hid behind a thick layer of clouds. It must have been late, for Harry could not see a single patch of torchlight at the castle's doors. Without them and the moon's silvery glow, the night was darker than pitch.
Too dark, Harry thought as he held a hand up before his face. It shouldn't be so dark.
Air froze solid in his lungs and an ache sprouted in his chest. It was like he had been stabbed by an icy dagger.
His heart froze. Dementors.
He whirled towards the staircase and drew his wand. He could not see the dementors, but he could feel them drawing near and hear their rattling breaths.
Anger broke through his stupor and he raised his wand. Those creatures had held terrible power over him once. They would not do it again!
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
His cry sliced through the night like violent thunder. The burst of silvery light shone so brightly that he raised a hand to shield his eyes. White spots danced across his vision, but he heard nothing as he waited.
Harry forced himself to look and saw that the Patronus had frozen just feet from the dementors.
No, Harry realized, they weren't dementors anymore.
The cold had gone and the darkness had thinned.
Harry wished it hadn't.
"No," he muttered, stumbling away from the ghosts of his past.
Sirius and Hermione stared at him through lifeless eyes. It was all too much. The tower, the dementors, the lifeless eyes; he felt like he was back there again, clutching the time turner as despair swallowed him whole.
Harry looked away, but someone else was there. Ron loomed taller now than ever before, his red hair shining like fire as his eyes blazed with hatred and fury.
"You left me!"
"No! No, Ron, I didn't—"
"She's gone and you left me. There's no one left. I thought you cared… no one cares."
The words were like a hundred bludgers slamming into his stomach one after the other. Harry grunted, eyes wide. Words formed in his mind but froze on his tongue.
Ron changed before Harry could muster any words. His nose shrank back into his face as his hair lengthened. Ron was gone, replaced by Dorea, far more intimidating from her newly found height.
"You left me!" They were the same words but these stung worse. It's because they're true. If Harry was stronger and moved against Riddle more aggressively, Arcturus may never have imposed his will upon Dorea.
A tiny voice in the back of his mind tried whispering that Riddle was almost definitely not the Heir of Slytherin and that she may never become the monster he'd once known, but the thoughts were forced aside by more daunting fears.
Something warm brushed against his face and, for the first time in his life, Harry hoped it was the touch of death. Anything to end this, anything to make these visions go away.
Harry gasped as his eyes flew open. He was not standing, but lying on something warm and soft. Above him loomed not the night sky, but a pale ceiling Harry thought he recognized along with the sharp scent of decontaminant.
A familiar face loomed over him and he might have drawn his wand and cursed it had that small voice's persistent whispers not been on his mind.
He began doubting that voice when memories returned — memories of stone walls, silvery stags, and domes of golden light. Most of all, he remembered Riddle lying face-up on the classroom floor.
Any other time Riddle had lost, she struck back much harder. Her losses in the Mind Arts and the Chamber of Secrets had prompted her to corner Harry, pinning him down with an agreement he could not escape. Now he had bested her again and could only imagine what that would bring.
Bested her was really an exaggeration. Riddle had controlled every second of the duel right up to the moment their spells collided. Frustration boiled inside his stomach. I got lucky; she had me beat.
Not that it would matter to Riddle. She was a perfectionist and as competitive as she was brilliant. She had always been in control. Harry was proud to have changed that, but he worried what that fleeting moment of victory may cost him.
"I didn't mean to startle you," said Riddle, moving back towards a nearby bed and lowering herself back under the covers.
"It was just a dream," Harry muttered, reaching for the glass of water on his bedside table.
"It must have been quite the dream."
Harry swallowed the last of his water with a grimace. "That bad, huh?"
"You got pretty creative."
Harry frowned. "Creative?"
Riddle studied him. "Unless you can tell me where the names Ron, Sirius, and Hermione came from, then yes, I would say creative is apt."
Harry's blood ran cold. It was like the dementors had returned, but in a swarm of a hundred that no patronus could drive away.
"They were friends of mine," he hastened. "I knew them at Ilvermorny."
"Curious," Riddle said, tilting her head. "Were you using nicknames in your dream?"
"Why would I be using nicknames?"
"There were no students at Ilvermorny with the names Ron, Hermione, or Sirius. Not unless you had friends much older than you, at least. I made sure to memorize all the names in years close to yours."
Harry's heart pounded. Shit! She must have known for months but she waited until now. Damn her! Why can't anyone else ever win!
"You got a hold of Ilvermorny school records?" Harry asked, feigning indignance.
"Some American wizard owed Romulus's father a favour. I never asked how he convinced him to use it for this."
"That can't be legal."
"If there's a law against it, I couldn't find one. I'm sure it's frowned upon, but how can a hapless halfblood be blamed for her social blunders and societal ignorance when her summers are spent rotting away in a muggle orphanage?"
Harry almost panicked. Slughorn had secured fake records of his attendance, but what if Lestrange had seen through them? What if Riddle knew everything?
Not until he looked at her did the paranoia fade. She looked smug, but not nearly snug enough. It was like how Dudley had once looked any time Harry got in trouble for something trivial.
What the hell am I supposed to say to that? That her source was wrong? He could always lie and claim they were upper years like she had suggested, but all that would do was put Lestrange back on the case, and Harry thought it was best to avoid further scrutiny there. There was the time he had allegedly spent in Europe. Harry cursed when that thought occurred. That would have been a much better lie.
"Why now?" Harry asked into the deafening silence.
"I think the time for secrets is over. I've been nothing but honest with you and, earlier today, you showed me more about you than ever before. I thought peeling away another layer would be fitting."
Harry saw by the curve in her lips that Riddle was lying and not even attempting to cover it. He could call her on it and he thought she'd even admit the lie, but it served no end. The longer this conversation stretched on, the worse for him it was.
"How long have I been out?"
"Hours," she said. "There's nothing to worry about, though. Madam Violetta guessed you would be out for longer than I was. There were signs of stress and sleep deprivation."
Harry just nodded. The last thing he was about to do was admit to Riddle exactly how nervous the duel had made him.
"A note was left for you whilst you slept."
Harry's head jerked towards Riddle. "A note?" She gestured towards his bedside table. There was indeed a scroll of parchment resting beside his water glass.
Harry furrowed his brow and snatched up the note, quickly skimming it with wide eyes. "Did Madam Violetta mention when we'll be discharged?"
Riddle's lips thinned. "Her plan is to keep us for the night."
Harry winced, immense pain crashing through him at the thought of what he must do next. "I need a favour."
Later that night…
Harry's favour had been a usage of Riddle's perfect Disillusionment Charm, plus wards around the bed strong enough to keep the matron from noticing Harry was gone. Riddle's easy agreement had unnerved him. He had expected demands in return. He was starting to realize the thing that bothered him most about her was just how unpredictable she was.
The halls were mostly vacant by the time he slipped from the hospital wing. Harry met only a single prefect on his trek towards the large oak doors and no one else once he'd slipped out of the castle.
Harry shivered the moment he stepped outside. Not from any cold — it was a smouldering night with heaps of humid air and very little wind — but from the memories. The sky was the same as it had been in his dream — the same it had been that night atop the Astronomy Tower when Harry's life had changed.
Occlumency guided his mind back on track. There was no time for foolish reminiscing about a life he could never gain back.
He descended the sloping lawns and crossed the sprawling grounds. Whilst walking it felt like time stretched on forever, but once he arrived at the forest's mouth, it felt like no time had passed at all.
"You really do have an excellent Disillusionment Charm."
Harry was prepared for something like that, but the sudden voice still almost made him jump. Arcturus Black flickered into being not ten-feet from him. Harry countered Riddle's Disillusionment Charm with a silent wave of his wand and felt the magic fade away until he and the Black heir looked each other up and down.
"Yours isn't bad either. You were probing with Homenum Revelio this time, weren't you?"
Black smiled. "Eyes and ears can be fooled, but not that spell."
Harry raised an eyebrow, though he wasn't sure whether or not Black could tell in the dark. "Am I not trustworthy?"
Black just stared blankly back at him. "It's not you I'm worried about. You weren't the only one in the hospital wing."
"Riddle had no reason to come in my place. I doubt you need to worry about that."
"One can never be too careful."
"I disagree." Harry emphasized the point by trying to turn up the intensity of his stare. People like Snape and Dumbledore had always been able to unnerve others with their stare alone.
"I suppose you would, wouldn't you?"
"We had a deal."
"Our deal was that I would reconsider things if you proved yourself against Riddle, not necessarily that I would revoke my word."
Harry's eyes flashed and his hand twitched longingly towards his wand. "Any new perspectives?"
"Yes, actually. I think your win was a fluke. Let me finish." Harry begrudgingly clamped his mouth shut. "I think your win was a fluke. Everything I've heard says that it was some freak accident that ended the duel. But," he continued, eyes growing more intent, "everyone also agrees you did incredibly well. Much better than I know you would have done earlier this year."
"What's your point?" Harry asked, tired of feeling as though Black was pulling him along on strings.
"My point is that, right now, I don't think you're on Riddle's level or capable of doing what you say. But I'm also not worried about Riddle right now as much as I'm worried about her two years from now."
Harry's eyes widened. "And you believe I'll be ready by then?"
Arcturus Black hesitated, but nodded. "There's no denying the gap between you two has closed this year. If you keep it up, I think you might actually be able to do what you say." Black held out a hand. "You're not ready, but you don't need to be. I'm going to back off and let Dorea do as she pleases, but if Riddle makes a move before you're ready to stop it, I maintain the right to step back in."
Harry disagreed, but he tried to hide how much it disgusted him and keep a straight face. The last thing he wanted was to undo all the good he had done, least of all as he stepped forward and shook Black's hand to seal the deal.
Soon after…
Harry's trek back towards the hospital wing was even quieter than the one outside. Not a single soul crossed paths with him in the halls, which was fortunate, for his Disillusionment Charm still could not match Riddle's.
Something felt off as he moved further into the castle, but it was difficult to say what. It reminded him of the feeling one got when being watched, but it was different in its own way. He wondered for a moment whether it might be a ward, but he detected none when extending his senses outwards. He frowned. Perhaps he had been imagining things, or perhaps…
The air split as Harry's ears rang with the sound of two high-pitched screams rising almost in unison from somewhere up ahead.
Harry's legs moved almost of their own accord. All pretences of subtlety vanished as his feet pounded hard against the corridor's stone floor. The sound came from near the hospital wing and it was worryingly reminiscent of the screams made by Abraxas Malfoy's victims.
It must be him, Harry thought as he skidded around another corner. If it turned out to be Riddle now after all this time and how thoroughly she had convinced him, he would never forgive himself.
Harry leapt around the last corner and fired a spell without looking. It sailed into the wall behind where a figure crouched over two shadowy lumps on the floor that could only be his victims.
The figure leapt back as Harry's next spell sailed over him, his hood falling. Harry snarled. Abraxas's hair shone in the torchlight like platinum fire, his grey eyes wild like raging storm clouds flecked with violent blasts of lightning. One hand was hastily shoving something — presumably a potion vile — into the pocket of his cloak whilst the other whipped his wand towards Harry.
"Crucio!"
Harry sidestepped, slashing his wand towards Abraxas and causing all the nearby torches to burst from their brackets and soar towards the Malfoy heir.
Abraxas swished his own wand and summoned a flock of birds around him to absorb the fire. They burst into flames and were banished towards Harry, who had expected just that. Stones rose up from the floor to block the flames before lowering back to fill the now gaping void between Harry and Abraxas.
Harry's eyes widened when the stones lowered. He had wondered for a moment why Abraxas thought that would fell him, but now he realized beating Harry had never been his plan.
A shadowy figure raced off down the corridor before Harry, who scrambled to catch up but swiftly realized it would be no good. Abraxas was taller, his strides longer. Harry's curses followed him down the corridor, but none found their mark.
Adrenaline coursed through his veins, anger boiled beneath his skin. The bastard had escaped! There's no way a pureblood like Malfoy will be punished on the word of a halfblood.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps. Fleeting thoughts of Abraxas's return were crushed when he noticed the state of the corridor. We caused too much attention — that'll be professors.
He dropped to the floor and cast the most powerful Disillusionment Charm he could just as two people sprinted around the corner. One was tall and thin, whilst the other was short, plump, and gasping for breath.
"Merlin's beard," came Slughorn's panting voice. "Another attack?"
"I fear so," said Dumbledore, who was now squatting down. Harry's heart raced inside his chest. Why must it have been Dumbledore? If anyone would see through his concealment, it was Dumbledore.
It took him a moment to realize what Dumbledore was so distracted by, then he remembered the victims.
A gasp came from Slughorn, looking over Dumbledore's shoulder. "A break in the pattern."
"P-pattern?" Slughorn asked.
"All the previous victims were muggleborns. Both Miss Black and Miss Fawley are purebloods. This must be a more personal attack."
Purebloods instead of muggleborns? But that made no sense. It was against everything Abraxas… wait! Miss Black and Miss Fawley?
Harry's legs gave out beneath him and suddenly, he was no longer kneeling, but sitting on the floor.
There, the two bodies rested, both hauntingly familiar, both with their eyes wide and terrified. And right outside the hospital wing — Abraxas might have been coming after Riddle or I.
Author's Endnote:
Three more chapters left to go in CoP's first year. I hope you are all as excited for the climax as I am!
Please read and review.
A massive thank you is extended to my Praetorian-level patron, Cup, for her incredibly generous support on that platform!
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