Harry's friends are livid.
After Harry and Tom had successfully gotten the hat to sort Tom, Tom had insisted that he could find his own way down to the dungeons and that Harry should go find his friends and come clean. His friends had predictably been at their usual spot in the Library.
And then Harry had told them about Tom- and Theo had stood up and left the library without another word.
Harry tries not to feel too hurt about that as he turns to his other friends.
"Harry, you've done some stupid things in the past," Daphne says, voice trembling in rage. "But this really takes the cake. We knew something was up, but we didn't push because we trusted you-"
"We should have pushed," Blaise says, scowling. His eyes are bright. "Of course we should have pushed."
"You should have told us," Hermione says, slamming her book closed. "I spent months thinking I was in danger. Months doing unnecessary research. We could have been studying."
"I-I just wished you tr-trusted us," Neville says sadly.
Only Ron seems to be even a little bit alright with the whole thing.
"Dick-move, mate. But now you can't be mad at me for the car thing ever again!" Of course, the red-headed boy has been in an unshakeably good mood since Ginny had made her recovery.
In retrospect, Harry realizes, it is entirely possible that Ginny might have told her brothers the second she officially met Tom (that meeting had started rough, but Ginny had been won over easily enough once she realized this was still the Tom she knew, only without all the curse magic twisting his personality).
"I'm really, really sorry, and I do trust you I swear! But it wasn't my secret to share," Harry tries to explain.
His friends share a look. "I th-think we just need some time," Neville says finally. Daphne, Blaise, and Hermione nod.
With that, the four get up and leave. Harry buries his head in his arms. He feels awful- worse than awful, even. This is almost as bad as it had been telling Remus. Maybe just as bad.
Ron pats his back commiseratingly. "They'll come around," he says.
"You could light them on fire, a little bit?" Merlin suggests from where she's coiled on her own chair.
Harry looks up and gives her a flat stare.
Merlin gives a snake-y sigh. "Okay fine, you caught me: I don't actually want you to light any of them on fire."
"That's what I thought," Harry mutters.
"Well," Ron says. "I'd better go see if I can catch up to Theo."
Harry nods glumly. "That would probably be for the best."
Harry sits at the table for a moment, unsure of what he should do now.
"Oh, did your friends finally get sick of you, Potter?"
Harry sighs loudly, electing to thunk his head into the table instead of looking up at the (probably) smirking face of Draco Malfoy. It's been a while since Malfoy's tried anything, so they really were due a confrontation- only, Harry really isn't in the mood right now.
"Shove off, Malfoy," Harry mutters.
"Or," Malfoy continues, "did you come to your senses, finally? Realize-"
"Watch it," Harry warns, looking up from the table.
"Realize you shouldn't be spending your time hanging around mudbloods and traitors?"
"I think you're just jealous," Harry says, struggling to keep both his temper and his magic under control. "That I actually have friends instead of, of sycophants and lackeys."
Malfoy's face goes red. "Better sycophants and lackeys than pathetic suckups and murderous maniacs."
Harry slams his hands on the table as he stands up, glaring daggers at Malfoy. "You don't know what you're talking about."
Malfoy rolls his eyes. "Oh, so-o scary. Whatever. What's next? The pathetic orphan act? Merlin, you're just embarrass-"
Malfoy is cut off by Harry tackling the boy to the ground, fists flying.
Malfoy flails for a moment as the two roll around, but gets some good hits in after a second. Merlin is hissing delightedly from where she's climbed up onto the table.
Malofy lands a particularly solid punch on Harry's nose and Harry grits his teeth as the pain hits, not daring to let his magic do anything- he's got it under tight wraps right now. Harry wavers for a millisecond before redoubling his efforts.
The fight only really lasts a second or two before Harry and Malfoy are ripped apart by a wave of magic.
Harry stares at the furious face of Madam Pince, who's holding the two suspended about a foot in the air. Malfoy has a developing black eye and looks like he wants to personally rip Harry's throat out. Harry's sure he doesn't look much better as he glares at Malfoy.
Madam Pince doesn't say anything as she walks the two to the Library doors and chucks the two out. Harry stumbles as he lands. Malfoy lands smoothly, because of course he does. Merlin slithers up to Harry and he crouches down and scoops her up before turning back to Madam Pince.
"I'll be writing to both of your heads of houses to recommend detention." Malfoy opens his mouth, likely to protest, and Madam Pince silences him with a look. "You're lucky I'm not outright banning you from the Library. Do not let this happen again."
With that, she turns and lets the Library doors slam shut behind her, leaving Malfoy and Harry out there in the hall.
Malfoy closes his jaw with a snap and then stalks off without another word. Harry stands there, momentarily stunned.
"Holy shit, Harry! That was incredible!" Merlin hisses excitedly.
"I don't know what I was thinking," Harry moans as he buries his face in his hands. "That's not- I don't usually- ugh."
"You were thinking that he needed to be taken down a peg," Merlin assures him. "And you were right."
"It was probably a best-case scenario," Harry decides finally, thinking back on what Malfoy had said. "I could have lit him on fire or, or worse."
"Worse?" Merlin asks, tongue flicking confusedly.
"Theo could have still been there," Harry says grimly. With that, he turns to make his way up to Gryffindor tower.
As far as Harry knows, his friends still need their space. In order to give them that, he sits with Tom during dinner.
"How is everything?" Harry asks, sliding in across from the older boy. "Is it how you remember?"
Tom shrugs. "It's both the same and different. It's weird, but I'll get used to it."
"Did you meet Theo and Ron? Or maybe Daphne and Blaise? Or both?" Harry asks. Okay, so he's a bit desperate for news on his friends. Harry doesn't think he's very good at giving his friends space.
Tom laughs. "I met Theo and Ron. I knew Theo's dad back when I was… back. Theo is the spitting image of him, it's weird."
"Er," Harry says, a forkful of carrots freezing on its way to his mouth. "You didn't mention that to him, did you?"
Tom laughs again. "No- I'd prefer not to advertise my situation. The official story is that I was stuck in a diary a lot less time than I actually was, remember? Not that that kept the kid from threatening me, of course."
"Yeah, he's like that," Harry grumbles. Then the other thing Tom said registers. "Wait, don't tell me you've talked to Dumbledore already?"
"Sure did. Say what you will about that old man: not a lot gets past him."
"Are you alright?" Harry asks, alarmed. Between Theo and Dumbledore it's a wonder the school is still standing.
Tom shoots Harry a warm smile. "You don't need to worry about me, I can handle myself. I'm fine, though. We're in the clear."
"Impressive privacy charm!" Both Tom and Harry jump as Oliver slides into the seat next to Harry, a resigned-looking Percy following close behind.
Oliver flashes a brilliant smile at Tom, who blinks.
"Hi! I'm Oliver- Gryffindor quidditch captain. I noticed you and Harry sitting here all alone and thought I'd introduce myself- oh, you don't mind, do you? I don't mean to intrude."
Tom stares at the boy for a moment, face blank. Oliver's smile doesn't waver: in fact, if anything it gets bigger and his eyes go a bit crinkly.
Tom blinks again and shakes his head. "Uh, sure- any friend of Harry's is a friend of mind. I'm Tom, Tom Riddle."
"Great! Yeah, Perce has already told me all about you and your whole thing," Oliver says conversationally, waving a hand at Tom. Tom's eyes narrow at Percy, who looks entirely unrepentant. "So we're free to skip all the small talk and get right to the important stuff:"
Percy and Harry give each other a commiserating look. At least Harry's mentioned Oliver to Tom before so he knows what to expect here.
Tom raises an eyebrow. "Quidditch?"
"Quidditch!" Oliver agrees before launching into an excited recap of the school year's quidditch standings.
Harry sits back, content to watch the three sixth years get along. Or, try, anyway. Harry gets the feeling that Percy and Tom don't necessarily like each other (maybe Percy hasn't forgiven the whole Ginny thing?) but Oliver seems completely oblivious, pulling both Percy and Tom into the conversation whether they like it or not. It's honestly masterful work on the boy's part, and Harry especially enjoys seeing Tom become more and more baffled as he tries to keep up with an enthusiastic Oliver.
Harry's friends end up seeking him out before lunch the next day, and things mostly go back to normal.
Harry introduces Tom to his Gryffindor friends and vice versa, but sits with them at their usual spot instead of intruding on Tom's space: his older brother is super cool and seems more than happy to hang out with Harry and his friends, but Harry wants to give the older boy a chance to make friends of his own.
Fortunately, Oliver and Percy have started sitting with Tom every day. (Based on Percy's face during meals, this is an Oliver-driven idea.) It's an especially good thing they do, because for some reason the Slytherin sixth-years all seem to steer clear of Tom.
The general consensus the school has come to in regards to Tom and Harry looking the same is that Tom is a long lost cousin of some kind. Apparently wixen genetics are very potent, so there's a lot of family resemblance even between cousins. Harry and Tom agree to encourage that line of thinking, since it brings up the least amount of questions.
It's been about two weeks since the Malfoy incident in the Library when Harry gets a note from McGonagall giving him the details for his detention. Merlin originally planned on coming with, due to Harry's terrible record with detentions in the past; but then Harry had glumly read her the note and she'd changed her mind.
Harry had originally thought the worst-case scenario was another shared detention with Malfoy in the Forest. He was wrong. Worst case scenario is what he's sitting through right now: detention with Lockhart.
"Oh, Harry, when I heard the trouble you'd gotten into," Lockhart says for the eighth time, shaking his head and tsking. "I just didn't know what to think! Brawling in the Library. Shocked me to my core. You needn't resort to scandal at this age, you know. Give it time, your fame will blossom right before your eyes."
Harry doesn't bother looking up from the pile of fanmail Lockhart has been having him sort. They have been at this for literal hours-it's almost one in the morning.
Harry would genuinely prefer to face down the Dark Lord in the forbidden forest than sit through even one more minute of this. He's hungry, tired, thirsty, his head is pounding, and Harry thinks he might be forgetting how to read.
Harry wishes he didn't know how to read. He looks up from yet another desperate love confession in order to give his eyes a break.
Lockhart is leisurely poring over a pile of letters as well, humming and occasionally pulling out a handheld mirror to check on his hair. The professor has been in a particularly good mood since Valentine's day, likely due to him perceiving the festivities as a grand success. Unfortunately this directly translates to Lockhart singling Harry out more than he ever has before, asking Harry to volunteer and pulling him aside to give Harry 'helpful tips' on managing fame.
The man has been such a pain that Harry is close to siccing Theo on him. Between Theo, Blaise, Hermione, and Daphne, Harry thinks that they could get away with murder without too much trouble.
Harry sighs tiredly and picks up a pile of letters.
"Kill…"
Harry drops the letters, blood freezing to ice in his veins. Lockhart looks up in surprise at him.
"Did you hear that?" Harry asks desperately. "That voice?"
Lockhart looks at Harry quizzically. "Do you mean the pipes? To the tired mind they can certainly sound like voices. Speaking of," Lockhart says as he checks his watch. "I ought to let you go. How time flies when one is having fun, eh?"
Harry wastes no time in escaping the detention after that. He feels wide-awake now, thanks to the adrenaline rushing through him.
Could it really just have been the pipes? Shortly after Christmas break, Hermione and Theo had explained their pipe theory. If the monster had been traveling through the pipes, it makes sense for the voice to be able to be mistaken for the sounds of plumbing.
Harry nods firmly to himself. Slytherin's monster can't possibly still be attacking students. For one, the diary is destroyed. For another, it's been months since the last attack. Harry is just delirious.
But he'll talk to the others about it tomorrow, anyway. Better safe than sorry, right?