AN: Here's one more chapter this week cause it is the last day of May ^^

Enjoy!

Chapter 2: The Wall Unbreakable

Tom knew with certainty that he perfectly embodied Slytherin's qualities years before a slip-up of Parseltongue revealed him to be the Founder's Heir. He was cunning, resourceful, ambitious. What he wasn't was a coward, as so many of his fellow housemates unfortunately turned out to be, self-preservation their sole notable character trait.

No, Tom was no coward, he simply recognised when it was smart to run. When to fight a fight another day, coming back better equipped for it. The encounter with a merperson on his first evening here had been such a moment. He'd traded being treated as scum for a curse and stared the consequences of that decision in the maw mere hours later. Those teeth, razor-sharp. That voice, shudderingly powerful.

Can you hear me call to you?

A threat, for certain. It had pressed itself to the window, demonstrated with bulging eyes and a crazed grin that some part of it could travel through the glass into the safety of the castle. Tom had never been more terrified than when he'd stared death in the face. Just his rotten luck to be cursed on the first day in a magical school.

Someone weaker might have given up, snivelled in a corner about the inevitability of fate. To Tom, fear was merely a factor that drove him to action, gave wings to motivation. The night after Dumbledore had visited Wool's, only two thoughts had run through Tom's mind.

I am magic and
I will never die.

It was a logical conclusion to jump to. Magic was above nature, above mundanity. Surely, that meant magic could keep a heart beating and lungs breathing after they were not supposed to? He'd been so sure that at Hogwarts, he would find the answer to eternal life- Yet now… now, something magical had put a target on his chest to be devoured?

Unacceptable.

He would conquer this threat like he'd conquer death. Perhaps breaking this curse could be considered the appetizer to reaching true power. It was only a matter of time. As long as the merpeople could only reach through the glass with their voices, Tom was safe enough. That left him plenty of time to either rid himself of this curse or rid the lake of that which would harm him.

Determined not to show weakness, Tom sat on that damned cushion with his back to the arched windows every single evening as he was engrossed in research on anything that could be of use. It was as much of a taunt towards the black waters where his newfound enemy must lurk, as it was a method of facing his own fears to keep himself on edge. With cold sweat running down his back at the idea of ripping teeth, the young student tore into the pile of tomes borrowed from the extensive library. They contained all manners of useful subject matter that wasn't taught in any of the courses available for first years, from alchemy to interspecies politics.

''Taking fate into your own hands?''

Tom didn't look up when Walburga ordered a student older than either of them to give up their nearby chair so she could claim it as her own. He could well imagine how she draped long sleeves and dark long curls over the seat without needing to glance in her direction. He did, however, reply. It'd be foolish not to now he'd read all about the Blacks, one of the most influential and rich Pure-blood families scattered across Great Britain and France. None of their members should be taken lightly or scorned too quickly. Marking page forty-three of 'From Scale to Spear – a Trip into the Lochs' with his finger, the boy coolly said: ''I appreciate being informed. Of everything. Which does make me wonder about why there isn't a single book on breaking curses to be found in the library.''

Irritated, Tom looked up when she didn't answer, staring challengingly into coal-black eyes. Walburga hid a smile behind her hand as if he'd said something exceptionally funny. Damn it. He'd given away more about his ignorance than was wise… Perhaps he should practise that memory modification charm he'd read about yesterday. Thankfully no-one was sitting close to them or paying attention to a first- and second-year student having a quiet discussion in the furthest corner of the common room.

The stiffly pressed creases in the girl's skirt creaked as she leaned forward conspiratorially. ''True curses can only be broken in two ways: the caster's death or counter-curses. Which, as the name suggests, are curses themselves, with the opposite effect. Hogwarts does offer that kind of knowledge when one knows where to look for it - for now at least, I bet the Deputy Headmaster would love to get rid of them the moment Dippet retires – but a first year would have to be exceptionally well-connected to get access to places like the restricted section.''

''What's your price?''

Because nothing in life was a hand-out. Nothing.

''For the information I just offered you, you're to run an errand for me. Nothing scandalous for you, simply dropping a package off at the boy's dorm – fifth years. It would be better for all involved if I'm not personally seen there.'' Behind the tight smile, Tom could discern a flicker of vulnerability. How useful. She didn't appear to have noticed his assessment, continuing with: ''If you want my help getting into the restricted section, the price will be steeper, obviously. A favour or two?'' she suggested sweetly.

Tom didn't do favours. Owing an unknown price was far too risky. The errand, however, was a fine exchange for what she'd already revealed. It would have to be enough to figure out the rest on his own.

''I'll let you know if I need more help. Slip me the package tomorrow right before lunch. We're crossing the same courtyard then to return from our respective classes.''

He could easily see how impressed she was that he had such a thing as her schedule and the routes within Hogwarts memorised after barely a week. A triumphant smile was thrown his way, as if Walburga was the one who gained the real prize tonight. She wasn't, not that Tom would put effort in convincing her otherwise. His attention shifted to the books spread across his lap again, keeping half an eye and ear on the window behind him. A protective barrier. In this manner, the hours passed him by until he was once again the only student remaining.

It had a nice touch: the fireplace kept burning for him. The bowls of fruit and nuts remained for him. Tom determined when night was allowed to start for the entirety of Slytherin house, not the other way around. A feeling he could get used to expanding upon.

A knock right next to his ear managed to catch him off guard after all. As if Tom partook in a nightmare he could not wake up from, his head involuntarily turned with excruciating slowness despite knowing what would face him. To have it be confirmed was nonetheless a shock, white-hot flames of unbridled terror curling up his spine when finding wide green eyes pressed to the other side of the glass. It couldn't be more than three inches thick, held together by magic more than the rules of physics.

''Hello,'' it sang through the glass, webbed fingers spread wide as if it attempted to reach out. ''My name is Harry. Will you be my friend?''

Six whole days it had taken to find another opportunity to swim across the lake after that first meeting. The plan had worked perfectly, Harry digging out his stash from the afternoon hunt on the way back to present it as his night bounty – plentiful and fresh enough. Still, only on the sixth night did Remus deem him 'rested' enough to hunt twice on the same day again. It made him terribly restless, even more so than before he'd visited the castle and met a human.

He'd met a human, he'd really been face-to-face with one of the thrilling creatures!

And right now, he was here yet again, staring at what appeared to be the same one (Hopefully. Unless they were all this pink and dark-haired. He discarded the thought of possibly being wrong as he so wanted to be regarded with curiosity in return). Had it been waiting for him? Did it obsess over merfolk like he did over humans? Did it want to interact with Harry just as badly and perhaps form a companion bond like some of the merfolk had with their familiars?

He didn't know if forming a magical bond with a human was possible… the idea was worth contemplating for certain. They were a different species and technically, that should be the only requirement for a companion bond to work…

If he'd ever find a way to actually reach through the wall of quartz, he would try, Harry avowed. Familiar bonds were soothing for both parties, instilling mutual loyalty and fondness. Yes, that was a great idea. Unfortunately, it wasn't possible for now. The barrier was in the way here and even if this human were to go outside and swim at the edges of the lake, Harry could not travel that far (certainly not that far up) without getting caught. As soon as he'd completely leave the hunting grounds, the Elders would most definitely be alerted.

So, he settled for asking for the next best thing. If this human was to be his familiar in the future, it would be best to start out as friends.

Once the shock wore off, Tom saw through its trickery in an instant. Friends? With the grotesque creature fated to kill him? What a low form of deception this beast employed.

It was a technique that spoke of low intelligence, a simple-mindedness that wouldn't allow for double or triple traps. Which meant the best course of action Tom could possibly take was to pretend to walk right into this one while surrendering none of his guard. Smiling, he nodded in confirmation as he'd done yesterday. When it bared its terrifying teeth this time, Tom recognised the gesture from the book he'd read on 'merfolk communication for the monolinguist', which described ways to interpret gestures and convey simple messages without needing to learn a word of mermish.

With deliberate movements (it couldn't break the glass, he was safe here), Tom rummaged through the latest pile for the book in question. As soon as he withdrew it and flipped through, the merman stilled, cocking its head to stare down at the pages over Tom's shoulder. Green eyes hushed over the pictures of different shapes merfolk made with their mouths, tails and seagrass-like eyebrows to communicate. Its own mouth hung a bit slack, which the book said to indicate either 'interest' or 'waiting for the kill' which was... not exactly helpful.

Quickly flipping through the book, he landed on a page with elementary gestures. There was none for 'friends' specifically, but one for different forms of agreement, from a simple sign for 'Yes' (a nod, same as humans) to a hand gesture starting at one's own heart and going to the other's that was translated as 'agreeing to a bond'. Good enough.

Hoping this would help appease it, Tom stood and faced the floating creature, giving it a one-over. After having seen it once already, its appearance no longer shocked him so completely. The entangled dark green hair and grey skin were odd yet not repulsive. The smooth black tail waved elegantly, like an ink brush determined to write poetry. It looked young – around the same age as Tom, face round and arms rather too short for an adult. Then, there were those green, green eyes that fixated on his own…

He placed a hand to his heart – ignoring how rapid it was beating with fright -, then slowly pointed at the other boy's chest.

The vivid eyes grew wide, the merman's body abruptly freezing up except for the fins on either side of his hips, which started fluttering wildy. Some of the skin appeared to take on a darker tint, most notably around the gills and throat. Then, with one powerful swish of it tail, Harry was gone, shooting through the vegetation, out of sight within a second.

Had Tom done something wrong?

Heart hammering, Harry practically raced back to the village, plucking two or three fish out of his way with his bare hands in a weak attempt to distract himself. It didn't work.

He had been thinking about familiar bonds already, then thought perhaps friendship could be a first step but this? This?

Diving into a densely packed patch of hornwort, he released a triumphant scream, wriggling around to release energy as excitement would burn up his body otherwise.

He had a girlfriend!

Now if only that stupid wall wouldn't stand in the way of their love…

AN: poor 12-y-old Harry has no idea yet whether he likes girls or boys or both (I didn't figure out I was bi until 16 so this may be me projecting), but since merfolk appear to have male and female members and normativity of reproduction is usually a thing, I'm going to assume that Harry would think the standard would be to like the opposite sex. As he also has no clue how to tell male and female humans apart, I believe it's a fair assumption on his part to think he just got a girlfriend.
If he would do some soul-searching, I'm pretty sure Harry is just into humans, sex or gender notwithstanding.