Hello lovelies! It is that time of the year again: MerMay! Almost wasn't sure if I could upload this before the end of May because I had two arm operations in the past weeks (one yesterday T.T) but I can finally move my arms enough again to use a keyboard. So, here is my MerMay fic for 2024:

The Wall of Quartz That Keeps You from Me

Chapter 1: The Lure

It had been two full moon cycles since the lights under the lake were last turned on. So many long days and nights filled with anticipation, of flitting through the village and peering into the vast darkness. Waiting. Hoping for a glimpse of the faraway green lights that would signal the return of life in the castle built on the edge of their lake.

Harry had a plan, one he hatched long before it could be put into motion and which he found far too difficult not to spill to anyone ever since his last birthday. Not even Sirius knew what he was scheming, for although Harry's favourite uncle was an adventurous spirit (he'd swam out to the ocean, once!), there was that miniscule chance that his worry would be greater, and word would get out to Harry's parents.

If so, the hunting privileges he'd been granted a moon ago would quickly be revoked. Approaching the castle was taboo for anyone but the Elders during their meeting with the human ruler, on the first day snow would cover the lake's surface.

Harry wondered if snow was truly so beautiful as he'd heard in the tales. The few times his parents had taken him on a trip upwards to cast a glance at the vast world out there, they had basked in the sun. His family only ever surfaced when the castle was empty. 'Summer holidays' they'd called it, without having been able to explain to Harry what exactly that meant. It was maddening for someone needing more. The allowance to hunt had increased his freedom somewhat, but it wasn't enough. Harry yearned to follow the lights. To see up close those who could build stately towers, reach for the skies and roam the world at their leisure.

One day he would be an Elder just to ensure he could freely converse with the human ruler who lived in one of the castle's highest towers. That point in time was too far away for Harry to quench his current yearning. Until that faraway day, he'd have to bend and break the rules to get ahead.

Lying in his favourite spot, perched upon a sloped stone pointing in the castle's direction, Harry waited like he did every evening once the daily chores had all been done. Surrounded by a half-arch of chara and hornwort, it was the perfect place for observation while obscured from the gazes of the rest of the village. They wouldn't understand.

The water above grew darker as the sun set. And in the distance… beyond waving weeds and the quick shadows of delicious fish, a speck of inviting light remained.

Taking a few large gulps of water, Harry checked once, then twice, if his eyes didn't deceive him. While holding onto the rock with tense fingers, his emerald tail swished in excitement as Harry could barely contain himself from swimming out right then and there.

They had returned. The humans occupied the castle again and for the first time in his life, Harry had a chance to see them up close.

''Remus? I'd like to join the night hunt,'' Harry innocently spoke up a few minutes after his grand discovery. As expected, he was met with a deep frown as he was sized up. The quick swaying back and forth of a chipped tailfin betrayed discomfort. Harry tried not to look at it, as he never tried to look at the chips and strange scars on Remus' body – a result of an almost lethal encounter that the other never opened up about. Not to Harry anyways

''You already hunted at day.''

It wasn't a no. Jutting his shoulders, Harry looked straight into yellow eyes. ''I didn't catch much. Honestly, I'm a bit embarrassed by how little I could bring back ever since I've been allowed to hunt. Some of the others told me that the night hauls are always bigger… Please?''

He could see thoughts racing, concern leaving deep creases around Remus' gills. ''Your parents…''

Harry bristled at the mention. ''I'm twelve!'' he petulantly reminded. ''Whether I hunt isn't their concern, only that of myself and the leading hunter. Which you are tonight, aren't you?'' Quite the unnecessary question, really, as it was Remus practically every night. Most merfolk were gifted with excellent sight, but Remus' vision was superb.

The other let out a small, undignified snort. ''Perhaps it's indeed best if you get as much practise with hunting as you can,'' he commented. ''We all know you aren't striving for a career in singing. Youngest kid to get kicked out of the choir in a century, were you?'' That it was said in a teasing tone didn't lessen the sting. A sting only soothed by getting the needed approval to follow up on his plans. ''Fine, Harry. You may hunt tonight. However, the rest can't keep as close a watch over you as the day parties do. The moment you get too tired and your attention slips, you're to return to the village at once. It doesn't matter how large your haul is. Understood?''

''Yes, Sir!'' he excitedly retorted, disgruntlement all but forgotten.

The next hour was easy, filled as it was with practical actions that kept his thoughts from swimming in circles about the distant lights and how close he was to realising a dream Harry had had since forever. He informed his parents, sharpened his spear, and donned hunting garb: a cloak of lake grasses and algae as well as strings with shells that tinkled loudly once the knots were undone the right way, to release a distress call.

Lastly, he went to the end of the village to join the rest of the night party, where shimmering tails were caked in the sticky black mud found in only a few spots across the lake. A whole hunt could be ruined by prey – or worse, wild Grindylows - spotting a long, gleaming tail before they were in reach.

Not that Harry was worried about having to hunt. No, it was a very deliberate choice to go twice on the same day. He'd quickly found that he was an excellent hunter, able to spot and catch the quickest of fish with his bare hands. Which is why he had plenty to spare, a part of his catch always stashed away in a secret spot before pretending to return with nearly empty hands. Not to keep the spoils to himself, no. To buy time for the perfect moment.

Today, that moment had come.

Night parties didn't do babysitting. It was everyone's own responsibility to stick close to the other hunters or risk getting hurt. That was just as well, enabling Harry to slip away quickly. There would only be a headcount every now and then, and he planned to return long before the first one. A glimpse was his only goal. A quick look into the world of those thrilling beings who were able to capture light and command it to shine for them in the darkness.

Fred and George had done the same once, speaking proudly of their own elaborate plan, one Harry sadly could not pull off the same way for lack of an identical twin able to play the roles of two for a night. The Twins weren't always reliable, but Harry fully trusted them in this.

''We didn't even need to surface,'' George had claimed, a flush of exhilaration giving a shine to his grey cheeks. ''The humans placed some sort of transparent layer underwater. As if they want to display themselves to us!''

Harry had committed their every word to memory, including the route they had described as safe enough to reach it – although they hadn't ventured far enough to see many details besides blurred shapes beyond the 'transparent layer' as they'd been intercepted by the looming shape of the Giant Squid approaching.

A risk Harry was willing to take and would be extra careful to watch out for. The Squid would not get him. Not before he'd seen a human up close anyway.

Then, from one moment to the next, the preparations were complete and Harry propelled himself forward into the vastness of the Great Lake in a practised motion. Even with a basket on his back and a spear in hand, it took barely a few pushes of his strong tail to cleave the water with dizzying speed. He dove and rolled, getting lost in playful manoeuvres for a bit to drift away from the rest of the party.

Then, the basket was dropped right next to the stone that hid his catch from this morning. Harry looked up and stilled, setting his feverish sight once again on the pinprick of distant light as green as his own tail.

He swam as if a predator were on his heels.

Little did he know that the predator was waiting at his destination.

Tom was overwhelmed. Head-spinning, dizzyingly overwhelmed with everything that was Hogwarts. Not that he'd show it, obviously. The Slytherins clearly thought little enough of him already without him gawking at every talking portrait or moving staircase. It'd been bad enough that the mask must have slipped during dinner, hunger so overwhelming to the point of pain when confronted with what felt like every dish in the world from one second to the next. Roasted chicken, potatoes dripping with fat, fresh peas and carrots shining so brightly as if they wanted to brag about not having a single speck of dirt on them. Pasties and stews, soups and mouth-watering sweet tarts…

As if there hadn't been consistent hunger marches every few years across the country. As if hunger was a concept for the Muggles to worry about. Maybe it was. Maybe the magical who had an abundance of food were naturally above sharing it with those beneath them. He'd have to think about what that meant, someday soon.

Not today, when Tom was busy trying to remain upright while thrown from one surprise to the next while trying his hardest not to look surprised at all. He'd finally found a crowd whom he wanted to fit in with. Befriend, if possible.

The jabs at his accent and sneers at the second-handed books didn't make it seem very possible for now. Strangely, it left him feeling much colder inside than at the orphanage. There, no-one was willing to talk to him because they feared him. That, he could bear.

Here, he was left alone because they considered him insignificant. Unworthy.

He could absolutely not accept that. Moreover, Tom refused to face it. So, instead of heading for the dorms and trying to suck up to the peers he would room with for the next seven years, he used his first evening as a Hogwarts student to mend the gaps in his knowledge. The only books that could help him understand his fellow mages was history, so he fished 'A History of Magic' from his bag and set out to find a quiet spot in the common room to read. It was quite full still, mostly with older students. The warmest seats around the fireplace were all taken, as well as the most comfortable ones in the middle of the common room. In fact, he found only a single cushion still free, right in a nook between the wall and the tall imposing glass windows looking out into the lake.

''That one's cursed,'' a girl close to his own age pointed out right before Tom was about to sit down. ''The Merfolk will set their eyes on and devour anyone who sits there.'' There was a mean smile to her that he recognised from his own mirror image. A bluff? Maybe, but the challenging gaze gave credibility to the warning. Nevertheless…

Tom didn't yet know how curses worked or whether they could be countered. He did know all too well how the social hierarchies established by children were set up. It was what he was good at, had used to his advantage so often. Were he to slink away now and settle on the floor or retreat to his room, were he to blindly trust a stranger on their mere words alone, he'd lose. Kicked to the bottom of the food chain.

He primly sat down on the cursed cushion as if claiming a throne, throwing her a haughty look. Hogwarts wasn't so daunting and dizzying anymore when the people and tricks turned out to be so similar.

''I'll devour the beasts right back,'' he grinned, wide enough to ensure sharp, blinking teeth were displayed. ''This is my cursed spot now.''

Her eyes widened a fraction, lighting up as they reflected green water. Without a doubt, they showed a glimmer of respect. ''Don't say I didn't warn you, firstie. My name is Walburga, by the way. Black.'' The pride in her voice indicated importance. Status that clung to the name. He vowed to skim the history books for it to understand where that importance came from.

''Tom,'' was the only name he offered in return. His surname would only be important once he found solid proof of his father's magical lineage (there would be proof, Tom was far too extraordinary to come only from Muggles, and his mum would still live if she'd been a witch. However, it'd be unwise to brag about it without the evidence in his hands to shove in everyone's faces before they licked his boots).

A nod and a swishing of skirts, and Walburga Black strode off.

Despite all his bravado, Tom tentatively looked over his shoulder into the mass of water behind it, two yards at most illuminated before the light was swallowed up.

Merpeople…

Codswallop. He'd believe it only when seeing one.

The light was no longer distant. Gliding languidly through the thicker vegetation that grew on the rocks close to the foot of the cliff, Harry felt entranced by the brightness that appeared to engulf him. He'd been unable to truly imagine the clear covering that Fred and George had described and honestly, would be unable to describe it to anyone else if asked. There were three different barriers placed next to each other, all unnaturally square and symmetrical, made of something more transparent than fish fins or clear shells. The closest he'd ever seen were some sections of quartz crystals that his parents said came from the mountains and occasionally landed in the lake.

Crisscrossing the not-quartz layer were beams, though they looked darker and more polished than any stonework Harry had ever laid eyes on. The architecture was marvellous compared to the crooked, rough houses that made up his village.

Taking a deep gulp of water, letting it slowly stream through his gills to ease anxiety, Harry crossed the remaining distance until he himself was bathing in the glow. Until he was close enough to let his eyes rove over what lay beyond the barrier.

It was… empty.

Well, not technically, as there were large rectangular shapes to the side, twisted things that emitted the light growing from the ceiling, and odd lumps scattered about the bottom of the circular room, but none of those shapes could be humans. A distant flickering of yellow-red-orange further away so bright it hurt his eyes was the only movement he spotted. Again, nothing alike how these creatures had been described to him by friends and family (very much like their own kind from the waist up, yet below that with a split tail they shamefully wrapped in plant matter to hide it).

A thought struck him, an enormous snag in his plan.

Did humans sleep at night? All of them at once?

Reaching out in desperation, webbed fingers were pressed against the barrier, which turned out to be as solid as rock and smooth like shells. His first chance to see them – no, all of his chances to see them as slipping out was only possible at night hunts – and they weren't there?

Without meaning to, Harry released an agonising, angry wail, hands pressed furiously against the barrier.

Something moved, so suddenly that Harry did not register it at first. A dark lump that had been pressed to the barrier about a spear-length below him unfurled, speedy as a minnow as it jumped away, dropping something that looked at heavy as a large boulder from the speed it sank to the floor (Harry forgot momentarily that his mother had shown him once how even little pebbles seemed to weigh so much more above the surface, landing on the ground with thrice the speed as below it).

Harry forgot everything, in fact, for his brain sped to a halt as he looked into eyes so alike his own, set in a face that was fascinatingly monstrous. Pink and pale like the flesh of clams framed by short curls of hair that didn't at all resemble any type of weeds Harry had ever seen. How would it camouflage itself anywhere? Drifting downwards with lazy flicks of his tail, Harry tried not to scare it off as he drank in the sight. The strangeness did not deter him at all, he wanted to prod and poke at the creature so it would reveal its secrets. Not only the split tail was covered up by odd fabrics (ending in two shiny black stumps), but everything from the neck down. Only the head and hands remained free, so soft, so pink…

It looked edible.

Harry shook his head to clear his mind, deliberately snapping his jaw shut. That movement apparently shook the human from its stupor, for it moved again. This time it came closer, slowly, one leg at a time like a crab. As it only had two of them, Harry wondered with morbid interest how it didn't keel over and land on its back, helpless.

Its mouth moved in a way that indicated Harry was being spoken to, though the initial thrill about that disappeared when the barrier seemed to absorb the words. Not that he'd be able to understand them anyway, Harry reasoned. Not like this. Humans could only speak proper when submerged, which made it mind-boggling that they lived outside of water.

Whatever it wanted to say probably wasn't nice anyways. Harry had scared it, and now it was scurrying back and forth, pointing a stick at him. A wand. The most dangerous tool humans had, according to Remus' grave lectures. It didn't look dangerous at all. Then again, neither did spine molluscs until wildly spinning their toxic darts around to defend themselves against Grindylows. Or water nymphs with their brittle hands that could strangle the toughest merpeople to death.

The best course of action to make it calm down would be to leave, but Harry was selfish, wanting more than this one glance now a human stood in front of him. Wanted to establish contact with it. Taking another deep gulp of water, he pressed his hands against the barrier more deliberately, concentrating on the magical core in his throat until it heated up.

He might be bad at composing songs. He might be unable to hold a tune when the force of his own magic seemed too great for such a delicate task and made his body shake at the attempt to control it, but what Harry could do very well is belt.

He sang. Shouted. Made the transparent wall vibrate with his best attempt at a crude melody just to see if the sound would penetrate. Can you hear me? He furiously thought as he yelled those exact words. Can you hear me call to you?

The wand was lowered, dark eyes transfixed on his own (as emerald as his tail, which he'd discovered when peering into the lake's surface the first time he'd been allowed to sprawl across dry sand on one of the little islands that litter the Great Lake). The mouth didn't move again, as if the human had recognised this to be futile. Amazing. Harry had always known they were as intelligent as merpeople, if not more so with all they could create. (Blasphemy, sure. It was a thought he'd wisely kept to himself after the first time he had uttered the idea in vague ponderings and received a tongue lashing from Snape, who taught 'human culture' to the villagers with an air of unending superiority of a merman who has never spoken to a human in his life.)

Instead of speaking, the human did something aweing, bobbing its head up and down. A nod.

Had it studied nonverbal merpeople communication or did humans share this gesture? Either option made Harry want to dig deeper, to find out more. He was utterly transfixed, grinning wildly at the discovery.

For some reason, that appeared to be a tipping point. No sooner had Harry cheerfully smiled, did it bolt. Skittish thing. He'd have to remember that for next time.

Because who was he kidding? There would be a next time.

AN: poor Tom being told he's cursed to be eaten by Merpeople, only for one to approach him when he's alone in the common room and opens a maw at him multiple times during that encounter ahaha. Not ideal for someone terrified of death. Is this curse my version of the prophecy in this fic? Maybe.

As for timeline mashup: anyone in the merfolk village is from Harry's canon timeline whereas everyone in Hogwarts is from Tom's canon timeline. As for people who exist in both (like Dumbledore or Hagrid), I've placed them in Tom's timelines cause Hogwarts has more residents than the merfolk village, plus Tom's life will kind of follow canon events whereas Harry is obviously not at all living his regular life.

So far, 5 chapters of this fic have been written but I don't yet know how long it will be exactly. I'll upload the pre-written ones on roughly a 1-week-schedule, provided my physical health doesn't decline again.

Please Read and Review!
xx GeMerope