Dissindere Temporalis
So here we are again!
Thank you for sticking with me everyone, I know it's been a bit delayed in recent weeks, but my injury really gave a hit to my writing ability and inspiration.
I also knew this chapter was one I really wanted to get right.
I hope you all enjoy it.
Enjoy!
Aequalis
The Dimitera phenomena is one of the most mysterious in our Magical world. It binds two individuals together, or connects them as two halves of a whole, or rather each other's balance. There has never been an ascendant Light or Dark witch or wizard without a balancing figure on the other side. The two parts are usually around or near the same age, their paths cross early and they shape each other's history.
Some are the greatest rivals in our history, like Merlin and Morgana, Gryffindor and Slytherin. But they have also brought about great love stories, often mired in tragedy.
A lack of balance, or losing your Dimitera can cause the world to be thrown off balance, and it takes time for Magic to correct itself.
No one knows how this bond is formed.
Merely that Magic makes it so.
-Excerpt from Chapter 2 of The Cycle of Light to Dark to Light Again by Lucy Bobbit
This year The Years End Ball was being hosted by the Nott Family.
Apparently it was a great honour, or so Dorea dryly informed them, one highly sought after every year. It was a grandiose display of wealth, style and magical prowess, with each successive year determined to upstage the next.
"The Notts are vile," she remarked, wrinkling her nose slightly, "It's widely accepted that Cantankerous made that abominable list a few years back, the 'Pure-Blood Directory'. They are firmly in the camp that Muggles are mere beasts, Muggleborns a threat to our society and that extermination is the only real solution. But they don't shout it too loudly, because some find it unpalatable, politically."
Harry made a face and looked uneasily at Hermione and Ron, all of whom were being measured by swift moving tape measures.
"None of that will be on display at the Ball," Dorea assured them warmly, "This is the time for them to show off their wealth. The eldest son has a daughter who has decided to Marry so they're going to be canvasing the gathering for the best match. So they're going to be showing off."
Charlie chuckled at their expressions.
"You're going to be fine. Politics is distasteful, but unfortunately is going to be a reality of your lives as you try and change the World. As is Dorea treating you all as her personal mannequins."
His wife shot him a look but there wasn't any heat in it, "I studied with a magical couturier in France, it's how I met Genevieve. And it has been some time since I've had anyone to pique my creative interest."
She stepped back to consider them and her smoky blue eyes sharpened.
"Good clothes are like armour, and like a silent resume." She flourished her wand and fabric swatches hovered around them, moving next to their faces one by one, "Your clothes can be all the introduction you need, it says so much, even before you open your mouth. Same with your hair and your makeup, if you are a lady."
"In Pure-Blood society, every event is a battlefield," Charlie remarked with a dry smile, "But you are not going in alone."
"Nor are you going in without armour," Dorea smiled at them and flourished her wand again, "Arms up."
Years End or New Years Eve rolled around very quickly, and all too soon they were gathered by the door to make the journey to the Nott Estate.
Harry had to admit they all looked almost unrecognisable, but in a good way.
Ron was in an old fashioned cut suit, rather like the Pride and Prejudice show he'd caught his Aunt watching once or twice, back in his original time. Instead of looking musty however, it lacked any embellishment, giving it a clean line. The jacket was a smoky cobalt blue, the shirt a crisp and contrasting white. The pants were so dark a blue as to be almost black, and his hair was neat, lightly slicked back to keep it out of his eyes.
Hermione meanwhile was beautiful in a sweet very pale, pink dress. The satin fabric was quite stiff, holding its shape nicely, while the straight cut made it practical. The white fur stole, around her shoulders, (not real, Dorea had assured them firmly), added warmth.
Harry meanwhile was in a charcoal grey. It made his eyes stand out even more vividly, but was sombre enough to reassure himself that he was not going to be the centre of attention.
Dorea had done herself proud.
She was in a lovely pale purple gown, with intricate embroidery, and Charlus was in a deeper purple to compliment her. They made a very striking pair, and Harry was sure that was exactly how Dorea had planned it.
Arriving by magical carriage, Harry hated the Nott estate as soon as he stepped inside.
The architecture was heavy and deeply gothic. Ornate, embellished and heavy, with elaborate stonework and sconces full of flames of many shades of white and green.
Their hosts were decked out in green, heavy velvet and gold jewelry on full display.
Next to them, their party looked elegant.
Harry glanced at Dorea's serene face.
"She knew," Hermione murmured, eyeing the crowd, a great many of whom were wearing clothes similar to the Notts. They'd tried to fit in with the hosts, and some looked rather tawdry next to the Nott's determined opulence.
The Parkinsons had tried to be completely different and chosen violently bright shades.
The effect was remarkably unpleasant.
Dorea had somehow managed to make them stand out, without looking like they were trying to stand out.
Harry couldn't help but be impressed.
Soon enough they were joined by Draco, looking haughty in his silvery grey dress robes.
"I hardly recognised you all," he informed them snidely, but Harry grinned, knowing he meant it in jest, "I was certain you couldn't be my scruffy looking acquaintances."
"Speak for yourself Draco," Druella's voice chimed in as she, her twin and Tom joined them. The twins were dramatic in green and black, Druella's pale blonde hair gleaming like a halo. And Tom looked devastatingly handsome, in dress robes as dark an indigo as his eyes, "I have never been scruffy a day in my life."
Hermione grinned at her friend as Harry shook his head, remembering Druella practising spells, hair tied back, dirt smudged along one porcelain cheek and sweaty from exertion.
"Must have been someone else I saw practising the full body bind." he smiled at her and grinned as she nudged him conspiratorially with her hip.
"You scrub up very nicely Potter," she winked at him, before turning to Ron, "You too Weasley, very dashing."
Ron instantly blushed, and mumbled an incoherent response as more of their group joined them.
Abraxas was clearly uncomfortable in a pale grey so pale it was almost white, but his smile when he saw Draco was relieved, "I need to talk to you later," Harry heard him murmur to the other Malfoy, and saw Draco's eyebrow arch even as he nodded.
Victoria was rather pretty in burgundy robes, but it was Aurora that made their eyes widen. She was in a gown of so rich a blue it appeared almost black at some angles, and her black hair was styled around silver threads. She was stunning and Draco whistled softly in approval.
Tierra slipped over beside her, clearly flying under the radar in dark olive green.
"Your mother been hhwelcomed back into the Fold?" Druella asked her with a small smile.
The Hufflepuff rolled her eyes, "Hardly, but now that I'm at Hogwarts and a proven Witch, her Ancient name opens the doors once more. She hasn't missed it. But she also doesn't want to 'hinder or limit my options'." she grinned, "Apparently she didn't raise me to have limitations, which is ironic as she is the principal limitation placer in my life."
"Is your father here?" Aurora asked quietly and Tierra nodded.
"He's pure-blood, even if he hasn't got one of the Nott's Ancient names. That's good enough for them."
There were of course some of their lot who weren't there. Particularly Kara, Kel and Ross. And Harry realised that if Tom hadn't been determinedly brought by the Rosier's, he probably would have been excluded too.
The group huddled together by the wall as the adults and other Hogwarts students milled around, and chatted quietly among themselves.
Tom stuck close to Harry's side, and honestly he was grateful for the companionship, feeling out of place. It was an emotion he was pretty sure the other shared, even if his calm, impassive face didn't show one iota of it.
Finally a gong sounded and from somewhere strings began to play a, rather unnerving, waltz, and with a soft flurry of fabric all the witches and wizards cleared the floor. A woman in heavy green velvet, blockish features and wearing the most elaborate necklace of gold and emeralds he'd ever seen, was lead out onto the floor.
"That's Miss Nott," Aurora murmured to him softly, "And that is Agrippa Rookwood. A fine match if it's seen through. The Nott's will be pleased."
Sure enough the adults on the other side of the ballroom, wearing similar green velvet robes did indeed look rather happy, as other couples filed out onto the dancefloor.
However once that first dance was over, Druella turned to Ron
"Lead me in the next dance?"
Ron looked dumbfounded, mouth dropping open slightly as Draco made a faint, choking sound behind Harry.
"Er," he glanced around at them all, before gathering his courage, "Sure,"
She looped her arm in his with a smile, before waving a hand at the rest of them, "Come on, pair up you lot, join us."
Everyone shuffled awkwardly, uncertain.
"Oh for-" Sebastian rolled his eyes, "Hermione? Will you dance with me?"
Hermione blinked at him in surprise as Abraxas turned to Victoria, "Oh, of course."
Harry grinned at her as the pairs trickled away and Aurora haughtily held out her arm to Draco, who, just as haughtily, took it, leading them away with their noses in the air.
It left Harry, Tom and Tierra.
Tierra eyed them both warily, as Tom's face turned even more guarded.
She was worried about hurting them, Harry realised, with an unexpected moment of clarity, and she was worried that Tom was hurt being left for last.
"Well you two would have always been my choices," Tierra murmured, and something about Tom's pose relaxed a little, "So, shall we hang out here together, or would one of you like to dance?"
Tom's indigo eyes flickered faintly towards the dancefloor, so quick Harry wasn't even sure he'd seen it.
"Tom?" she asked quietly, "I'd love to dance, if you'd honour me?"
Tom's smile gleamed and Harry felt something shiver down his spine in surprise.
Tierra had phrased her request expertly, giving Tom the power over the situation. It was deft and clever and exceptionally Slytherin, but there was no guile in Tierra's eyes. It had been Slytherin cleverness, but the heart, the not wanting her friend to be hurt, was all Hufflepuff.
His appreciation for the Hufflepuff rose.
"If you like," Tom murmured, offering his arm to her as she smiled, taking it.
They left Harry alone, but not for long as Sophia Bletchley flounced over and batted her eyelashes in such an obvious way he almost laughed.
"Er…would you like to dance?" he asked her solemnly.
"Oh Mr Potter," she gushed, hand pressing to her chest in studied, and obviously feigned delight, "I would love to."
Sophia was a nightmare, but thankfully after two excruciating dances he was rescued by Tierra. Hermione was dancing with Tom, heads bent close together as they , Victoria with Sebastian, with Ron, Druella and Aurora were chatting by the wall.
Draco and Abraxas had disappeared.
He swayed slowly with Tierra, who seemed content to just move to the music, rather than swirl in fancy steps like Bletchley had.
"Thank you, for what you did with Tom," he murmured and he saw her lips curve up slightly in a small, sad smile, "How did you know…?"
"He's been unwanted a lot in his life," Tierra's voice was quiet, " So have you. I recognise it…"
Harry blinked, looking down at her, "You… what?"
She shrugged quietly, "Most of Pure-Blood society looked down on my mother for choosing a man from a less illustrious Family. I was only allowed to be around friends when it was a smaller gathering. As soon as it was an Event," her voice emphasised the word, "I was not invited. My mother found it hard to explain to her heartbroken daughter that it wasn't her fault she wasn't wanted. At least… At least I knew I was loved by Mum. And by Dad. Tom… I don't think he's ever been loved by anyone until he came to Hogwarts. I don't think he's loved anyone before then either. That's… that's so lonely. He needs more people to choose him."
Harry stumbled over his feet, "Sorry. And… uh. And me?"
Tierra shrugged shyly, "I see the same sadness in you. But… your sadness didn't make you cold. Not like Tom."
They moved together quietly for a few more minutes, before Harry said quietly, "There was a time where I thought… if I loved something I'd lose it. It's… hard to shake that, sometimes."
She leaned into him, hugging him a little as they swayed, "You're not going to lose your friends. They love you in their own ways, as do we. So does Tom. You're his favourite."
The irony almost made Harry laugh, "Tom doesn't know how to love."
"Tom doesn't know he loves." Tierra corrected, moving back with a smile as the dance ended, "Something to think about."
Everything was going well.
Until Parkinson realised they were invited.
"You let this trash in here?" He jeered at Acario Nott, who was a Seventh year, and had the same heavy facial features as his cousin, "A Mudblood in Nott Castle, imagine."
He didn't trouble to keep his voice lowered and a hush fell over their corner of the ballroom, eyes turning to the object of Parkinson's derision.
Tom.
Harry's stomach plummeted and he pushed through the crowds, Hermione and Ron at his side.
Seeing that he had an audience, Parkinson pressed on, piggy eyes gleaming maliciously.
"A Mudblood at Years End. You'll have to wash the floors for the next year to get them clean from his grubby hands."
BANG!
Out of nowhere Parkinson's mouth began foaming with soap bubbles, and he choked, spraying foam into the air and onto the floor. Harry gaped as he took in who was standing beside Tom, wand raised.
Draco.
Draco's face was like it was carved from marble, haughty and full of derision.
"Hardly in good taste to insult the guests of your host, Parkinson, but then we can't all have good breeding."
Tittters filled the hall, Draco's composure was absolute, channelling every inch of Malfoyness he'd ever had to bear on the unfortunate Parkinson. Tom was still as a statue beside him, tension obvious in his clenched hands, but his face, completely impassive.
"Bwud-twaitor," Parkinson snarled, foam muffling his words.
Draco sneered.
"Wrong." he informed the older, stricken boy, "No Muggleborn would be sorted into Slytherin, correct?"
"Widdle-"
"Isn't a magical name, you're quite right," Draco stepped forward, "But then, Parkinson isn't one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight… is it Mr Nott?"
An elderly man had made his way over, face thunderous but he paused as Draco spoke to him.
"You're a Malfoy, aren't you, boy?"
"Yes sir. Draco Malfoy."
Mr Nott nodded, "Good Family."
"We hold ourselves to the highest of standards." Draco's lips curved up, and Mr Nott chuckled.
"His friend is a M-" Parkinson whined.
Mr Nott held his hand up, as Harry made his way to Draco and Tom's side. "That is enough, this is one of the glittering events of the year, not the schoolyard Mr Parkinson."
"But he's a Mud-"
"Enough," There was enough venom in Mr Nott's voice to silence Parkinson, at least momentarily, and he turned to Tom, "Mr… Riddle, wasn't it?"
"Yes sir," Tom's voice was perfectly smooth, as was his expression. He looked unruffled and entirely unbothered, whereas Parkinson looked dishevelled and disorderly, "Tom Riddle."
Mr Nott eyed him, expression rather like he wasn't certain if the specimen before his eyes was disgusting or interesting.
"And you… have no magical ancestry?"
Tom hesitated and this was when Draco smoothly stepped in.
"Tom is the most powerful and talented in our Year. I am certain that his talents would not be of such a high calibre if he was Muggle-born."
Mr Nott's expression noticeably warmed when he looked at Draco, every inch the young, pureblooded aristocrat, before his dark eyes returned to Tom.
"I never knew my parents, sir, they died before I was born. I was raised in the Muggle world, that much is true, but as to their heritage, magical or otherwise… I know not."
"See I told-" Parkinson's victorious crowing was silenced by Mr. Nott's sharp look.
Everyone waited with bated breath for Mr Nott's verdict.
Harry clenched his fist, hating that he had to just wait. Tom's Slytherin bloodline would ease his path in these gatherings. But he didn't want Tom to think he only had value because of his blood. That's what happened last time.
'The confirmation of validity, had made him even more zealous a convert to their creed.'
That was Hermione's philosophy anyway, and Harry tended to trust her on things like this.
Mr Nott's dark eyes moved over Tom's face, before considering Draco again, and then Harry himself, and the others that had moved to join them. Harry knew he was noting the pure-blooded children, the Family names, and their silent endorsement.
"Mr Riddle is here as my guest," A smooth female voice broke in, and Harry turned to see Mrs. Rosier glide over to them, the picture of aristocratic elegance, "He is an exceptional young man."
Mr Nott nodded, and a smile spread over his thick lips, "Your exquisite taste is known, Celeste. If you vouch for this young man, then he is welcome."
"But-" Parkinson began to whine, before a thin, unpleasant looking woman appeared beside him, pinching his ear sharply.
"That's enough! Don't disgrace us any further." Harry heard her hiss.
Mrs Rosier gave the pair a haughty look before Druella appeared beside Tom, as though summoned by some silent signal from her mother.
"Tom, shall we dance?"
Mr Nott smiled, "Yes, everyone please. Dance! This is a celebration!"
Laughter rippled through the crowd as the music began once more, Druella expertly whisking Tom onto the floor.
Sebastian slid up beside Harry, as Mr Nott moved away, talking with Mrs Rosier, "That could have gone worse."
"We're lucky it didn't." Abraxas murmured behind them, and Harry saw Draco nod out of the corner of his eye.
"It's not going to be the end of it," Hermione's voice was pitched low, but they could all hear her, "Parkinson's not going to let this go. Not until he destroys Tom. He's been publicly shamed now."
"If he's going to get anywhere with Pureblood society he'd better hope he has some wizard blood somewhere," Sebsatian noted quietly.
Instantly Hermione prickled, "He shouldn't have-"
Bash's laugh cut her off, "Hey, hey don't prickle at me little cat. I'm not saying that Wizarding Blood would make Tom any better. Just because it will make his life easier, means this crowd doesn't automatically dismiss him…"
Abraxas shifted uncomfortably, "Look blood purity…"
"We've been over this, Brax," Sebastian retorted quietly, "Whatever your views on… selective breeding." Hermione made a rude noise that was a little too loud, scandalising a witch in hideous bright pink robes nearby, "The fact of the matter is that Tom is Tom, he won't change if, say, we find out in two months he's descended from Merlin himself. He'll still be just as talented and powerful. You can't tell me he's a more valuable person just because he might have a powerful bloodline or ancestor."
"The danger is him wanting to be accepted by this world. To be exceptional," Draco smoothly slipped in a new nugget of information, and Harry hid a small smile at the Slytherinness of his former rival, "That he feels he needs an Ancient bloodline to be valued. Not seeing it as a broken system but forcing himself into it."
Sebastian's gaze flicked towards Draco, "You think then, that he has one."
How had Harry's life ended up like this, surrounded by Slytherins playing chess with each other?
"Not because of his power." Draco smoothly manoeuvred around the verbal pitfall, "Because I believe every magical person has some link to our history. Muggleborns probably once had squib ancestors and then Magic returned to their bloodline. Tom… has said before, he doesn't know who his parents are. Doesn't matter if they were Muggle or not, I think somewhere in his history there is magic."
Bash's eyes flicked to Harry, "And you? What do you think?"
"I agree with Draco," Harry nodded, folding his arms with a small cough, "I think that all Magical people probably have some connection to an ancient bloodline, but that inbreeding ourselves has…led to a smaller pool of people. I think we're dying out."
"What came first, the Phoenix or the flame?" Abraxas butted in, looking so uncomfortable it hurt, "We bred together to protect the magic, maybe it saved our World? What if we all bred with Muggles?" He pulled a revolted face and Harry heard Draco's soft sigh beside him, "Magic would die out!"
Harry itched to share his knowledge, genetics had answered this question, but that discovery was far in the future.
Thankfully Hermione saved the day, "Numbers of witches and wizards are on the downturn," she murmured quietly, "More squibs are born to so-called 'Pure' families than any others. Many Muggleborns leave the magical world behind them because of discrimination. The Wizarding World is growing smaller and potentially weaker with every generation. There are the exceptions of course, like Tom. But imagine if his great power and potential was snuffed out because of something he couldn't change. Like his skin colour or hair colour."
Abraxas made a quiet, but thoughtful noise.
"All of these people, the powerful in the Wizarding world…they all believe this." Abraxas' voice was soft, "Surely it must be right if they all believe it."
Harry snorted quietly, "All I'll say is this, Abraxas. Eat shit, 10 billion flies can't be wrong."
Sebastian laughed, and even Abraxas grinned a little, "Okay I concede your point. But I just don't… how could you change it? This is how the world is."
Draco's lips curved in a smile, "The world always changes. And if I've learned anything Brax, it's this. Potter here usually ends up winning at the end of the day."
Harry shoved him fondly, "Shut up."
"Either way," Hermione sighed, "This is a party. Let's enjoy it, shall we?"
"Hear, hear," Bash grinned at her and extended his hand, "Come on little cat. Dance with me."
The party was winding down when Harry noticed Tom was missing.
Quietly he slipped out of the side doors of the gothic ballroom, out onto the balcony, finding the other boy standing in the moonlight.
Tom didn't look at him as Harry came to a stop beside him, but Harry knew that Tom knew he was there, and sure enough after a few long moments he spoke.
"I thought it was behind me."
"What?" Harry turned his head slightly, so he could look at Tom's handsome profile. It was smooth and impassive, but Harry knew Tom well enough now to see the storm in his dark eyes and the slight curling down of his lips.
"This. Being… nothing."
Harry was shocked.
Tom's voice was quiet, but honest, raw in a way Harry had never heard before.
"You aren't nothing," Harry reassured him, turning a little more to give him his full attention, "Ignore them."
"It's easy for you to say Potter," Tom sighed, "You were born into this world. No one questions your right to be here."
The irony was painful, and Harry knew, knew in his gut that this was the moment to share.
"Dorea isn't my mother," he admitted quietly, "And Charlus isn't my father."
Tom's head snapped around to look at him in shock, and Harry gave him a small, rueful smile, "You… but…"
"My father was a Potter," Harry continued, choosing his words carefully, "But my mother, his wife, was a muggleborn witch with bright green eyes." he smiled ruefully, "I have her eyes."
"Then why…?"
"It was covered up." Harry shifted to lean on the railing, giving himself another moment to think, "My parents died when I was a baby and for a small time I lived with my… uncle. Who also passed." he looked over and up into Tom's wide dark indigo eyes, "Dorea, and Charlie… lost a son. To them… It was like a second chance."
"You're not… pure-blooded."
"No," Harry gently nudged his hip against Tom's, "I think… that is why you and I are stronger than most of the others, Tom. I think my mother, I think she made me stronger."
For a long moment Tom was silent, before he whispered, "I thought," he hesitated and Harry bit his tongue to not fill the silence with words, any words, "I wanted to be like you. Like Sebastian. I wanted to be Pure."
Horror shivered down Harry's spine.
Tom had envied their supposed 'Purity'.
"You and I are the same Tom." Harry murmured, "I truly believe that. Reflections of each other. I wouldn't be surprised if you ended up being a Half-Blood too. We share a wand core. I… we felt something when we met."
Tom nodded slowly.
"We are equals," Harry turned to meet his gaze, "And our blood doesn't define us. Doesn't define any of them. I think… I think we're here to change it."
Something gleamed deep in Tom's eyes.
"Equals." He agreed, voice low and soft, "You and me, Harry Potter. We are going to change the world."
And somewhere in his bones Harry felt his magic tingle.
It felt like a promise.
It felt like a vow.
It felt like a beginning.
To Be Continued...
Next Chapter will probably have a small time jump... we'll see you there!
Reviews
jedblack1997 - You are going to have to wait and see I'm afraid, at least where it comes to Grindelwald. I have to keep my lips sealed!
Shiara - Poor Abraxas, he listens to Draco and Harry and it makes such sense and then he goes back to his roots and that also makes sense. I think he's going to be confused for a long time!
Just a Cool Fool - Glad you're enjoying my friend. I'm also a go with the flow type person, I enjoy seeing where the characters take me. And I too have favourites. I like hearing where all of you see this going though. New perspectives open doors.
amk - Thank you! It's good to be back!
Smithback - Don't worry I will look after myself, but I won't leave you in the lurch either!