Theo sat on the dark green comforter folded at the end of Draco's four poster bed. None of the others had migrated into the dorm room yet.
"So, what did Potter have to say?"
Draco stared off into space in a way Theo had never seen before. "He's… he's indescribable, Theo. I'll introduce you, later. He… he promised me everything. Magic returned to the right hands. Overthrowing Dumbledore. And I… believed him. I probably shouldn't have but… when he looks at you…"
"Draco, are you sure about this?" Theo was concerned. He didn't like the look in Draco's eyes. "He's still just a first-year, with us."
"With us, maybe. But not like us. Don't… don't do anything to get on his bad side. I've only seen his good side, I think, and it's terrible. And enticing."
Theo nodded reluctantly. "If you say so, Draco. I just…"
Why did the bedspread have eyes?
They blinked at him.
"Gossiping about me already, hmmmm?"
Theo's scream caught in his throat, and it felt like he would be gagging on it if he wasn't frozen.
"No, Harry. I was just telling Theo, about our deal."
"Oh!"
Theo fell forward as he was unfrozen, spinning to stare at the boy in the doorway with wide eyes.
The boy with too many eyes.
"Hmmmm. I don't know, Draco. He seems a bit blind. I could make him… more blind. He would look prettier, with empty eyes."
The eyes in the walls stared at him and he was frozen again. Harry pinned him with a perfectly blank expression as he and Draco discussed the possibility of gouging out Theo's eyes.
"Please, Harry, he'll be useful. He'll be on our side."
The unnatural feeling of impending violence fled as quickly as it had arrived, and the boy smiled.
It was not necessarily a less frightening expression.
"Well, isn't that lovely. I trust your judgment in this, Little Dragon. I suppose there's no need to rush."
Harry Potter walked towards him with careful steps as Theo was lost in his emerald eyes.
He ran his hand over Theo's frozen cheek in a way that was far too comforting and far too terrifying at the same time.
"Theodore."
He shivered.
"You know where to find me when you're ready. I'm curious, about what you desire. All you have to do…"
The eyes in the walls pierced his soul with their omnipresent gaze.
"...is ask."
…
Needles.
Needles sounded fun.
Could needles go straight through the pupil without popping the rest of the eye? Would it move like a little pointing pointy arrow when the eye moved?
Harry suppressed a giggle. Eyeball lollipops.
Keep his fake fake mind in place around the cat lady.
Harry liked the cat lady.
McGonagall. Mc-Gone-Agle.
What a fun name.
She had lots of eyes, and she stared, sometimes. But he didn't mind.
Harry liked cats.
Poke poke poke the matches with his magic.
Needle needle needle. Matches were just as fun though. Burn burn burn.
Eyes on him?
Whose eyes were those?
Oh, it was Hermione Granger.
Harry liked Hermione Granger.
She was a useful Thing. She had emptiness inside her, too.
Not like his. No one was like Him.
But she had potential. Unless he got bored and decided to make her full of needles.
Probably not. Her brain was more useful without needles in it.
…
Hermione didn't know what to make of Harry Potter.
She dreamed of endless emerald pools.
Why did she feel like she had met him already?
Why wasn't she sure that she hadn't?
Why couldn't she keep her eyes off of him?
She tried to turn her attention to McGonagall's lecture, but it was hard.
Why was he still wearing the black suit? Did no one else notice that he wasn't wearing the correct uniform?
Why did she feel like she had seen him wearing the suit before?
Why why why…
How…
How did he turn his matches into needles already? He hadn't even said a spell? He didn't even have his wand out?
She didn't know whether to admire him or hate him.
His eyes met hers and she couldn't look away. She stumbled and tumbled into the deep well of viridescent power and was lost.
Lost and wandering, in the endless forest.
Was she going mad?
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and Hermione whipped around, blood rushing to her cheeks.
"Are you ready to begin, Miss Granger?"
"Yes, sorry professor."
She waved her wand and the match turned into a very sharp needle.
Professor McGonagall almost choked. Had she said the spell out loud?
She had been busy.
Thinking about walking in the verdant glade.
…
"Alright Pansy, spill. You've been jumping like you're scared of your shadow since we got here, and Draco is acting like he got put on the Quidditch team but can't tell anyone or something.
Daphne Greengrass and Tracy Davis had finally managed to corner the normally stuck-up girl in their dorm room.
It wasn't like they were best friends with Pansy and Draco, but their parents had been going to the same parties for years. They knew that something was up with the other purebloods heirs.
They suspected that it had something to do with the mysterious celebrity with the glowing eyes.
Pansy paled.
"I can't… I mean, there's nothing wrong. No idea what you're talking about."
"You're a shit liar, Pans," Daphne said.
"No! I mean, I… don't tell him, please. Don't tell him I couldn't smile…"
She looked both pitiful and terrified.
What the hell was going on?
"Is it Potter?" Tracy spoke up, one hand on her hip as she leaned against the bed.
"NO! I mean…"
"That's a yes, then."
Pansy's eyes were wide and wild.
"What did he do? I didn't even know that you talked to half-bloods," Daphne said with a smirk. She didn't really care about blood status, but Pansy was a purist.
"I… didn't? I don't know. Look, I can't say. Like, literally can't. Just… talk to him yourself, if you want to know what he is. Just… leave me out of it."
Daphne was definitely curious, even if Tracy looked concerned. Whatever Potter was, he had spooked Parkinson good.
Which had the potential to be very interesting.
…
"Oh look, it's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."
Sometimes, his Dragon made the wrong noises with its face hole.
Whatever.
Harry was making snow angels on the grass. It was more interesting than… that.
The sun felt nice. The warmth.
One of the redheads was shouting.
Empty empty empty…
"Aren't you going to do something?"
Hermione Granger was speaking to him. Shouting? Not sure.
Oh yes. Speaking.
"I am doing something. I'm making beautiful snow angels. Do you want to join me?"
She was silent for a long time. That was nice.
Quiet quiet quiet.
Malfoy was flying away. Perhaps some… reinforcement was required.
Stupid minion. So much work.
The redhead flew after him. Harry didn't care.
Empty empty em-
"Alright then."
Hermione Granger lay down next to him and made a snow angel.
The grass felt nice.
…
Why was he here?
Harry stood before a tapestry of trolls doing ballet on the seventh floor.
Red eyes opened on the walls.
Why had the eyes led him here?
He was the eyes, and they were Him.
Why why why.
He wandered up and down the corridor. It felt like the right thing to do.
Why why why.
He didn't know how he knew things, most of the time. Didn't know how he knew Occlumency. Didn't know how he knew Legilimency. Didn't know how he knew how to call forth the eyes and the teeth and the dark.
Why why why.
A door appeared.
Ah. So that's why.
…
Well.
What do we have here?
Harry stared at the silly little crown, on the stone bust, in the endless room of junk.
But this bit of junk had eyes.
Why did it have eyes?
How did he know that it was an itty bitty shard of soul?
How did he know that it was just one fragment of a shattered pane of red glass?
Pane pain pane pain.
Harry giggled.
How did he know it was Tom's?
He giggled again.
Tom was going to be sorry that he left his soul lying around.
Lying around where anyone could find it.
He knew so many fun things to do.
Things to do to wayward eyes.
…