Disrespectful Houseguests (Riddle Becomes A Weasley)
Harry glared down at the table, trying to block everyone else out as he focused on breathing.
“Oh come on Potter! Don’t deprive me of my only entertainment now! It is amusing to watch you argue with her.” Riddle complained.
A copy of the Daily Prophet found itself in front of Harry, slid over by Remus. The newspaper was flipped to the twelfth page, a small column on the right caught his eye. “The Boy-Who-Lies”. Harry set his hand over the paper, preventing himself from reading it. He didn’t want to know what kind of words they were putting in his mouth, or the way they would paint him to the general wizarding public. Who knew what kind of slander would be found in the paper? All Harry knew was that he wasn’t confident in not exploding if he read it.
“I wish to read it, move your hand.”
He groaned and set his head down on the table in aggravation.
“Pick your head up and move your hand so I can read the damn paper or I will vow to find away to drive you to insanity.” Riddle growled into his head.
Harry sat up and moved his hand, picking up the Daily Prophet.
The Boy-Who-Lies
As we all know, young Harry Potter (now age 15), won the Triwizard Tournament at the end of this past school year. Mr.Potter returned with the body of 17 year old Cedric Diggory. Young Harry was distraught when he returned and claimed that the dark lord who used to terrorise us all had returned. Of course, this claim has been proven incorrect and we must wonder what truly happened that night to plant such incorrect notions inside the head of the young Gryffindor student. With those questions comes the question of what tragedy truly has befallen Cedric Diggory?
Betty Braithwaite
He sighed and pushed the Daily Prophet back towards Remus, he didn’t want to see what other rubbish could be found in the paper.
“Fudge has pretty much swept the whole thing from last year under the rug. The entire Ministry is taking the stance that nothing is amiss.” Remus remarked as he took back the newspaper.
“I expected nothing less, Fudge is an idiot. I realized that a long time ago.” Harry scoffed, ignoring the rest of the conversation at the table.
As he reached for some more pumpkin juice, all the dishes on the table floated off. He scowled and looked towards Mrs.Weasley who was taking everything off the table.
“All right everyone time for bed! Up up! Everyone off, Harry dear you will be staying with Ron of course.” Mrs.Weasley commanded everyone in the dining room.
“Now I know why most of the Order doesn’t stay for dinner,” Harry mumbled under his breath. He poked at Sirius’ arm. “Are there any other rooms? I don't really feel like sleeping in the same room as him.”
“Sure Harry, we can get you set up in my brother’s old room if you’d like,” Sirius assured him.
“No! He will stay with his friends, who knows what is in that room! It could be dangerous, after all, your brother was a Death Eater just like the rest of the Blacks!” Mrs. Weasley objected.
“Excuse me?!” Sirius slammed his hands on the table as he stood up. “Do I look like a Death Eater to you?! I am NOTHING like the rest of my family!”
“Orion Black, which is Sirius’ father, wasn’t even a Death Eater.” Harry protested.
To Harry’s luck, he was ignored in favor of the argument between Mrs.Weasley and Sirius, which was much louder than him.
“Are you sure about that Sirius? Because it seems like you’re just as hot-headed and violent as the rest of them! Look at you! Yelling and slamming tables in front of children!”
“She’s not even right, obviously all the Blacks weren’t my followers, even if they were supporters. But also, they very much were not all hot-headed. A wonderful example in recent memory is Narcissa Malfoy, who is a born Black.” Riddle reasoned.
“Because you sit here and are constantly disrespecting me inside my own house! I provided this place for the Order and you inadvertently called me a Death Eater!” Sirus snapped at her.
“There isn’t much else you can provide can you?” She said in a snarky tone of voice.
“Mrs.Weasley! I won’t stand by as you disrespect my godfather within his family’s home!” Harry objected as he stood up next to Sirius. “It seems you must have left your manners back at your own house, as they certainly aren’t present here. And for your information, there are many Blacks in their family history that were not, hot-headed, as you say. The most recent example I can immediately think of is Narcissa Malfoy, who was born Narcissa Black. It is common knowledge that she has a collected demeanour. Now Sirius and I will be taking our leave, I will also be staying in his brother’s old bedroom instead of staying with your son.”
Harry took Sirius’ arm and stormed out of the dining room in a flair of dramatics. He took his arm and dragged him up two flights of stairs before he stopped. When he glanced back at his godfather’s face he laughed lightly. He was gaping at Harry in shock.
“Sorry Sirius, I am a little sick of Mrs.Weasley and her bossy attitude. Didn’t mean to drag you around the house, sorry again.”
“Sorry! Harry that was brilliant! No one really wants to deal with standing up to Molly cause she will just yell back and it becomes kinda pointless to argue with her. We should've got you here that much quicker just for that alone!” Sirius seemed to have come alive with this, a happiness Harry hadn’t seen since Sirius was flying on Buckbeak in third year. “But I should probably actually show you to where Regulus’ room is, or well what is now your room.”
Sirius took Harry’s hand and led him up the stairs, all the way until the sixth floor.
“Sadly Molly wasn’t totally wrong though, my brother was a Death Eater, and a loyal one at that. Joined while he was still in school, he was only sixteen. At some point he died, no one actually knows how. Assumed that You-Know-Who killed him, or had one of the others do it for him.”
“I did NOT! What a terrible accusation, I truly have no clue how young Regulus died.” Riddle interrupted.
Sirius continued on, unknowing of the mental voice interrupting his talking. “But anyway, I assume you’ll enjoy staying in his room over staying in one of the smaller guest rooms and having to share it with Ron.”
Harry thought back to the room that he had first seen when he ended up arguing with Ron and Hermione. To Harry, the room wasn’t small at all, even with the two beds it had more room than his own back at Privet Drive.
“Here we are!” Sirius exclaimed as they reached the sixth floor.
The door in front of Harry read “Do Not Enter Without The Express Permission Of Regulus Arcturus Black”. Sirius pushed open the door, some dust being kicked up with the movement.
The room is dark, with emerald curtains covering the window. As Sirius opens the curtain, panelled chestnut walls gleam in the moonlight. A gloomy desk lies in the corner, a thick coat of dust resting on it. Harry glances to the right and sees a large walk-in closet, the clothes in it all tidy and hung up. To the left of it, a large canopy bed, decorated in green and silver.
“Matches the curtains and rug, I can appreciate his aptitude for design.” Riddle’s voice rings out.
Harry glances down and examines the rug, emerald green with silver fringes and dark snakes scattered around. A turn to his left showed a gleaming and tall, silver mirror.
“It’s very…” Harry’s voice trails off.
“-Slytherin? Yeah, I know. He was a proud snake.” Sirius moves around Harry and gestures to a bookshelf on the same wall as the door, taking up almost half the way. “Here is a bunch of books, obviously. Plus the books behind the bed. They will most likely be books on Hogwarts subjects but be careful cause I don’t exactly know what my brother kept hidden up here.”
“I won’t get my hand bit off by a book Sirius.” Harry rolls his eyes and sits down on the bed. He gestures to the dresser underneath the window and then to the filled closet. “What about all these clothes?”
“I’ll have Kreacher clean up the room and get rid of his stuff.”
Harry shuffles off the bed and enters the closet. He grabs a robe and throws it on. “Actually, how about I go through them first. They are really comfortable.” He remarks as he runs his hand down the front of the robe.”
“Alrighty then!” Sirius shrugs and begins to close the door.”Well, you rest good. It has been rough lately. We can talk in the morning, Kreacher will bring your trunk in here.”
As Sirius leaves, Harry begins to look through the closet. The clothes even felt expensive. A multitude of different robe designs and a plethora of various colors were found inside.
“Welcome, Harry Potter, to the wardrobe of a true son of an Ancient and Noble House.”
Harry walked through the wardrobe, glancing at all the different things to be found. He plopped down on the ground and tugged off his shoes, replacing them with a pair of boots next to him.
“They fit!” He whooped in joy.
“Well that is remarkably convenient, the robes should be fairly close to fitting you as well I assume. Both you and Regulus share similar builds, other than him being a few inches taller.”
Harry scowled at the mention of his height but grabbed a few bits of clothing and brought them out of the closet. A black cloak with red on the inside caught his eye out of his pile.
“Of course your eye goes to the red, grab a pair of black trousers, keep the black dragonhide boots you picked up. Either grab that black silk tunic, or the black satin button up. Then put on that waistcoat, the black one with the golden buttons and twisting gold design on the bottom of it.”
Harry listened to Riddle and began changing out the clothing, grabbing the tunic and putting together the outfit. Finishing it off with the cloak he had originally spotted. Surprisingly everything fit him almost perfectly, other than the cloak brushing the floor and the trousers being just barely too long, which was helped by the boots.
“Oh…” Harry breathed as he stared at himself in the long mirror across from him. “That looks..”
“It looks great doesn’t it? Feel like a wizard Harry? Finally looking the part of a Potter I would say.” Riddle seemed proud of himself.
Harry heard a pop behind him and jumped, whirling around. He breathed out a sigh of relief as it seemed to be a house-elf with his trunk, Harry assumed it was Kreacher. He nodded at Harry in what seemed to be approval and set his trunk in front of Harry’s new bed.
“Young master looks like a proper pureblood wizard, worthy of the House of Black.” Kreacher remarked, and then popped away. Leaving Harry with his thoughts, which included a Dark Lord in them. He sank down onto the comfortable bed, which was covered in an emerald green comforter.
“Man what a day…” Harry sighed, covering his face. “I don’t even know what to think about all this, it feels ridiculous. This whole time my friends have been at the headquarters of a secret society that was started by Dumbledore almost two decades ago, and they didn’t even bother to tell me anything. They could have told me anything they were able to, say the house was guarded by a Fidelius Charm, try and tell me any bare information they could. But they didn’t…all because Dumbledore told them not to. We have been through so much since our first year and sometimes I wonder if it means nothing to them. I mean it has to right? If it does then why would they put the words of the Headmaster over me? I..I don’t even know what to say.”
“Well, not to be all negative but if I could have communicated with you before this I probably would have said something earlier. Sadly, I couldn’t. But honestly I have never particularly considered them the pinnacle of friendship, my followers hold much more loyalty to me than your friends give to you. Which isn’t that just depressing? Anyway, you should put those clothes away and get some sleep, a lot to do tomorrow.” Riddle proposed.
“Since when was there a lot to do tomorrow?” Harry asked as he began to put the clothes away. Switching his current outfit for a simple powdery blue closed robe. “I don’t remember planning anything specific.”
“Since I gave us a plan. We will discuss tomorrow, sleep now.” Riddle commanded.
“Alright, alright! You’re so bossy.” Harry grumbled as he climbed into the bed.
“I am a dark lord.” Riddle deadpanned.
“Fair enough,” Harry yawned as he responded, eyes closing into sleep.
Harry glanced around, recognizing the Slytherin common room, it looked almost identical to when he went there under Polyjuice in his second year.
“Well, if it isn’t the mudblood of Slytherin house.” He heard a voice jeer from his right.
As he turned he saw a young Tom Riddle standing in front of what looked like a few nasty Slytherins. The way they held themselves screamed of their perceived superiority, not to mention the use of the word mudblood.
“Piss off Mulciber.” The young Riddle snarled. “Your presence isn’t welcome.”
“Oh no, I believe it is your presence that isn’t welcome little Riddle.” The boy, now identified as Mulciber, spat Riddle like it was something disgusting.
Another boy next to Mulciber raised his wand, pointing it at Riddle. “Come on! Give us a reason!” The unknown Slytherin jeered.
Mulciber and the other boy raised their wands as well. In retaliation, Riddle raised his as well. Harry realised that the second unknown Slytherin seemed much older than the first years, possibly a sibling of the other. He looked to be about a fifth year, and he was the one who jammed his wand at Riddle and yelled out.
“Crinus Muto!” The older boy intoned, gesturing to Riddle’s hair.
Harry giggled slightly as Riddle’s hair turned flaming red. Riddle snarled back at the older boy and jammed his wand at the Slytherin.
“Petrificus Totalus!” He yelled.
The elder Slytherin fell to the ground, with a shocked look on his face. Harry was impressed with young Riddle, getting the jump on an older boy even as only a first year.
Mulciber and the other younger Slytherin both flicked their wands at Riddle and incanted together. “Engorgio Skullus!”
Riddle’s head swelled larger and larger, almost knocking him over.
“Are you two Sirius? I can’t believe this ridiculousness is happening in our common room, but of course it is you Mulciber.” A young girl with wavy hair and silvery eyes stormed over. She glanced over at Riddle and waved her wand. “Redactum Skullus. Crinus Muto.”
Riddle’s head returned to it’s normal size, and his hair back to chestnut. “I had it handled Lucretia.” He mumbled.
“Obviously you did Tom.” She waved him off.