You and I walk a fragile line
When Harry woke up on this world, on Hadrian’s room, in the Slytherin House he immediately know that he was fucked up.
Harry was really not the type to curse but ‘fucked up’ was the only phrase that perfectly describes the situation that Harry found himself in.
He has half-a mind to not wake up and just go back to sleep, maybe this is a dream and if he sleeps enough he will wake up in his room and everything will return to normal.
A moment passed.
Ah, fuck.
Harry frowned, since when did he even fall asleep last night?
The last thing he remembers was having dinner with Hermione and Ron.
Wait!
Harry shot up from the bed. Hermione and Ron!
Oh, god if he is here then either Hermione and Ron must have seen his body—well if he died because that is the only logical explanation on why his soul is here. His boy must be empty and dead right? But the strange thing is he didn’t remember dying . Harry is pretty sure that he would remember dying. They say it's a memorable experience. However, there is also a chance that he died sleeping or maybe it's his brain’s way of protecting him–making him forget. Harry is really not sure.
Right, did he die?
Just then, a sharp pain stabs his head. Harry clutches his head and clenches his teeth.
Did he die or did he not die?
The pain intensifies when he questions his supposed death.
Right, right, don’t think about Death. Got it
Ow.
He latches on his mind, a topic away from death. He clenched his fist from the blanket. What blanket? Harry looked down at his body. He is in a bed, wearing sleeping clothes that he did not remember owning.
Huh.
His eyes wander at the place. The interior of the room is mostly covered in cobblestone. Not something you would see everyday, certainly. It is fancy and old fashioned looking. He doesn't have a clue where he is.
Harry stilled as she heard a blanket being shuffled beside his bed, on the opposite side of his drawn curtains. He quietened his breath and focused all his attention into his hearing, then hushed conversation reached his ears.
“It’s not that bad—“
“ Orion Black , you fuc—ahh sweet Salazar help me!” an exasperated voice interrupted. If Harry could see the person he must have his palm on his face.
“Lestrange, it's fine —“ Orion Black chided. A cherry tone contrasting the exasperated edge the others have. He looks like he is having fun from the suffering of the other.
The conversation—or rather the argument continued but it got over Harry’s head as he stopped breathing.
What.The.Fck
Orion Black??
Lestrange????? Like Elliot Lestrange?? Francis Lestrange???
Oh god.
Oh god.
Was he….was he in—
Then as he panicked on the crisis a thought then suddenly stuck him. This time he felt like his world toppled over and his vision swam.
Tom Riddle.
Tom Freaking Riddle!!
Harry jumped up to the bed then tripped on his spilled blanket and fell face first to the cold concrete floor. He yelped and groaned. Thankfully, no one was in the room—if he is indeed in the world of ‘His Happy Ending’ then he was in the world full of magic ( Great. Amazing. Wonderful.) —a boarding school in the middle of nowhere. In a world that’s in a brink of a disastrous war.
Great.
Just great.
Hilarious. Very funny.
Harry stood up from the floor and went straight to the bathroom. It was empty, thankfully. If he was not panicking then he would have the ability to appreciate the novelty of the infrastructure of the bathroom, smooth and sophisticated looking room with lavish bathroom, shower room, and lavatory.
Harry looks at the face that is familiar to his own but identical to the character who was about to be murdered.
Harry stared .
For a moment, Harry considered drowning himself on the lake.
In all of the characters that he can get, he got Hadrian Peverell.
Because of course he does. Why not, right ?
Harry could have appreciate Hadrian’s face if he was not on the verge of a panic attack.
Harry sighed. His eyebrow creased and his heart seemed heavier than he remembered. After a moment of silence, he works himself of composing his mind and calming his racing heart.
Okay. Okay . This is his life now apparently. How fast did he accept that? Does he not have a life before this?
Harry grimaced at the reminder of his supposedly death flag on the storyline of this game. He recalls the information that he can remember about Hadrian Peverell, he was someone who coveted Tom Riddle’s attention—no more like he coveted Tom Riddle’s influence and power. For someone who doesn’t have a noble background and the blood purity that they preach, Riddle’s attention is to be much desired by many.
And Hadrian Peverell is one of those covetous, ambitious, and dumb people.
However, that is nearly impossible since he is disliked by his peers and just for his very unlikable personality. Hadrian boasts of his family but he himself is nothing to boast at which was taken poorly by the general population.
Tom Riddle is a mastermind. He has power and he knows how to use it.
And that's why just a small attention and fake companionship and Hadrian Peverell fall right at the trap.
Like the perfect pawn that he is.
Just like that, he fell to his demise.
Literally .
In one of the routes that he remembers, Riddle pushed off Hadrian and watched as he splattered on the ground. Harry shuddered and vowed to never go near a tower with Riddle
After he served his purpose, he was immediately discarded. Harry doesn’t want his fate to end like that. If he is going to die, he is going to die fighting . Or, he was not going to die at all.
Luckily, Harry has no plan to follow what ‘Hadrian’ did. He was not going to be his dog on a leash go-to person. Hadrian was the kind of person who chases power like a starving man and Harry is not.
Harry prefers his body warm and lungs working.
Harry was absolutely planning on staying away from Riddle’s path. He was staying far-far away as possible.
Either figuratively or literally.
Ding!
A rectangular semi-transparent screen-like image appeared informing Harry’s eyes, he flinched and for a moment Harry thought that he might have done something so vile in his past life because— what is this????!!!
[Hello, Harry Potter!!!!]
Harry stared . He stopped breathing.
[You have possessed the body of the character named ‘Hadrian Peverell; from now on you must follow the scenes and action to complete his story!]
Harry read the floating words in front of his eyes. And re-read it again.
He frowns, what does it mean follow ? The character ‘Hadrian Peverell was doomed from the start! Does this thing is asking him to die, thats absurd! At these thoughts, an imaginable rage flowed to his heart. He refuse to die.
( he himself is a little bit shock at the vehement and fury boiling at Harry’s heart and emotion )
Not now, and certainly not soon.
[With that the fir—]
“ No. ”
[Excuse me?]
It does not have voice, but Harry can almost feel the dumfounded expression across the screen. He did not care and continue to speak in a disrespectful manner.
“Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?” he grit his teeth. Anger barely containg his skin.
[You don’t want to…?]
This thing seems to be confuse, does it expect him to just rolled around and follow?
Heh.
It’s in for a surprise then.
Harry firmly stated, “Yes, I don’t want to.”
[But the chara—]
“I don’t want to!” he almost shouted.
[You need—]
“Who cares? I am the character aren't I? If I’m reading this correctly then should I decide that? So you can’t make me!”
Harry is not really planning to throw a tantrum but just like he said—who cares? He need this thing to understand.
[The poi—]
“No! I would rather kill myself than being a slave!”
That.
Harry didn’t mean that and he—probably shouldn’t have said that. However, it was too late to regret now.
[yo………need…….aract…..ERROR……..ERROR…ERRO—]
Harry flinched at the change of words. It seems to be malfunctioning somehow as the word ‘ERROR’ keeps flashing non-stop, Harry nervously wetted his lips.
What now…
[Due to the characters stubbornness—]
“Excuse me?” Harry blurted out. Excuse you.
[The protocol has been re-written for further accommodation as requested.]
Harry tensed with anticipation. Now that the anger diminished on his system, he was oddly nervous. It was not his plan to be that angry–he is never that angry before but those words just ignited something ugly deep inside of him.
[Alternative Punishment is to be replacement]
Is this better somehow? Harry, quite frankly is not sure. Either way, this negotiation is going to end with the system staying whether he like if or not. He ask. “What is the ‘alternative punishment’?”
[A series of tasked will be commenced once every day to be completed with time allotment]
Okay.
Okay this is maybe a bit better.
This time, Harry can prepare and so can also control the situation better. And his action will be on his own accord.
[Unable to comply will result to death]
Oh.
Got it.
Harry was relieved.
Well not relieved that he may die, but relieved that he even die, he would still have a chance of changing and fighting. And if he would indeed die, it would be his choice or rather frequencies. Harry has never been in a brawl all of his life but he was good at getting hit, he is going to be fine for sure.
[I bid you a happy ending, Hadrian Peverell]
Harry stared at the last words until it disappeared.
A happy ending huh…
An image of Tom Riddle appeared.
Then, Harry looked at his reflection in the mirror.
Harry had just woken up but he suddenly feels like toppling over and never wakes up, honestly. He reach for the door knob and walk toward his bed, his eye caught at the half open bag at the table beside his bed, books and papers sticking out of the bag and Harry stilled.
Then he remembered that this is a boarding school. And he was late .
The great hall was bustling with students as they ate their breakfast. Harry had barely enough sleep last night and he has not yet consumed his mandatory coffee and it was absolutely valid if he would stab Riddle in the eye if he wouldn’t stop staring at him.
That’s just creepy behaviour.
It was irritating. It was uncomfortable. It was terrifying.
He steals a glance at him again and finds his eyes staring back. Okay, that would do it, consequences be damned. He had carefully crafted his persona and cultivated safety on this day–its Thursday gave him some slack. He was here for just 4 days–and he wouldn’t let Riddle destroy it just because he’s nosy. He may be laid-back and a lot accepting but this? No, he would not accept it, he thought with a small tremor on his frame. Okay no, he took that back. He absolutely needs coffee if he has those thoughts. C’mon would a sane Harry really think that? No , of course not.
Having Riddle’s eyes on him lit his blood on his fire. Every time those dangerously charming dark eyes landed on him, unease would roll on him in waves, his breath caught on his throat and his hands grew damp but he couldn’t let himself lose his impeccable control. And absolutely won’t let Riddle have the satisfaction by projecting that he has such an effect on him. In Slytherin, it is a weakness, and he can’t afford to show weakness on the den of snakes. He learned the lesson well.
Harry ignored the prickling sensation of eyes watching him and sat down on his usual seat. He acted as though he was detach from everything and everyone else, some thought it was arrogant–or just him being himself really, he was not that important, no one would care enough to question but for Harry it was a wall of defence and he was enjoying himself rather fine, not until Riddle appeared— not until last night.
So far this morning, he walked in the common room with no eyes (except Riddle ) following him, no suspicious stare, raised eyebrows, 0r questioning glances, so that means that Riddle did not rattle him on anyone else. That's great but no great at the same time. He still need to go to the detention that Riddle assigned him to.
Merlin, how can he be stupid!!!.It was a rookie mistake at the worst possible time, and now Riddle’s unwanted attention was fixated on him.
Harry was debating obliviating him but scratched the idea because it may be effective but it was significantly risky although some part of him whispers that it is worth it. That was such a Gryffindor move and he was a Slytherin! So he must approach this as a Slytherin, and how would he do that? He did not know. Not yet at least.
He tilted his head and murmured “good morning” at the scattering pleasantries of his dormates and took some bread and eggs on his plate then he ignored the conversation around him.
Regardless of the burning sensation of Riddle’s eye on the back of his head, Harry move with leisure as if the accident last night is a common accident that usually happens–Harry is jealous, because he is never nonchalant about things. Not only that but he just owed a favour by Riddle. Dread pool on this pit of his stomach at the thoughts of those.
He poured himself a cup of coffee and gulped it like water, as the glorified liquid drug merged into his blood, the sensation of coming home and relief retracted back to his body. It feels like a hand was dragging him back to consciousness.
He heard a gasp of shock and horror beside him. He opened his eyes—when did he close it?—and saw wide hazel eyes, it was not really “wide “but the definition of “wide”a pureblood can make. It was Francis Lestrange —no doubt—he glanced at his mouth and to the steaming mug on his hands.
Harry lifted an eyebrow, as if asking what the look was for. blink back at him and shake his head in disbelief, muttering along the lines of “are your mouth made of steel or what?”, “who chugged coffee like water?” Harry shrugged and went back to his own food.
He stimulatingly eat and drink while half- listening to some interesting rumours such as some 7 th year Ravenclaw student caught doing the deed with a 5th year Gryffindor by Professor Dumbledore (Harry internally wince, if that was Harry he would bury himself alive, he would be the one with the shovel. How can someone live with that shame, he doesn't know.). Not only that but the 7 th Year male Ravenclaw was supposedly betrothed to someone, and that someone was the 5th year Gryffindor older sister!
The scandal!
And this pure-blood heir is eating it up.
Harry hardly maintains his straight face as Lestrange’s excited voice keeps going, describing the news in terrifying detail. Black and Avery’s faces were filled with glee—or more like Avery’s face was spiralling in disgust and horror—as the story escalated from bad, worse, to horrifying.
If he was a lesser man, he would have thought that these were some wives of common peasants waiting for their husbands from the farm by how vigorous they gossip.
On one hand, it benefitted Harry to a great degree by how much information he can get from this.
Riddle was seated in considerable distance to himself and every now and then he can see Riddle’s glances on him at the corner of his eyes and he definitely knows that Harry can see him. He would sometimes smile in mirth and some other emotion that terrified Harry but mostly amusement. For what, he did not know.
He absolutely knew but he would not open that can of worms.
After having his fill, he immediately left the great hall and walked toward his first class, which was Transfiguration. He can't stop the grimace on his face at the thought. Slytherin was nice and all but there were some downsides that he really did not appreciate much—which was the favouritism of some teachers—mainly Dumbledore, because of course it's him.
The greatest lies Teacher can make is to say that they don’t favour one over the other because they absolutely do. He knew that and thus was not fooled by whatever Dumbledore was on.
Here’s the thing, Dumbledore favour the lions and Harry was a snake which is just terrible but he would make do. After all, Transfiguration was an interesting subject.
He entered the room and sat on his usual seat , which was on the right most corner. It was his favourite place because he can see the whole class from there and can measure on how average he can perform to stay low. He can't exactly say he is a powerful wizard and all that—not Tom-Riddle-kind, he was born to be great and Harry was not—he was just decent and more competent than most students.
There's also the advantage that Harry is not really 15 years old. He is 17 years old. He is way older than these kids . However, he is a person who grows up surrounded by magic. How embarrassing that is.
He leisurely leaned back and opened an advance book in transfiguration while Dumbledore was still not present while the student \fill the classroom. A flicker of black on the corner of his eyes, he lifted his head and to his downing horror, Riddle was walking toward the section of table he was sitting.
Oh, no. please don’t. Leave me alone .
He glared and looked at those dark eyes and screamed with his eyes. What are you doing here?! Go away!
Harry stares at Riddle’s form unimpressed. Having Riddle’s attention on him was the worst scenario that could happen!
Harry reluctantly looks away, clenching his jaw and fighting hard to keep his expression blank. Losing his composure in public was not a good idea no matter how tempting it is. And Riddle must know that and was using it to his absolute advantage. Such a bastard!!
Harry didn’t acknowledge Riddle’s existence and returned his attention back to his book. Harry was seated beside Francis Lestrange, and the Lestrange heir was beside Tom Riddle. Despite his relief, he was baffled on why he didn’t sit beside him, anyway not that it matters.
Riddle turned to him and was about to open his mouth to ask when he saw the title of the book but right in time—just like a knight in shining armor, the door opened and Dumbledoore sauntered in front.
Riddle paused and straightened his posture facing toward the front. Harry put the book in his bag and pulled out his parchment and quill. He looks like the perfect student, but Dumbledore doesn’t really favour Riddle and the effort was futile but he never drops the pretence. Was he still trying to gain Dumbledore’s favour?
Dumbledore was the first person that Riddle met and introduced him to the magical world—well ‘introduce’ was such a strong word—and the only person that doesn’t buy his ‘good student’ act.
His existence doesn’t really count. And for that, it seems that no matter how Riddle loathes the man there is still some part of his heart that wants to prove something to Dumbledore, and for that Harry doesn’t really blame Riddle. Although that was all speculation.
And, Riddle is a cautious bastard why the heck did he casually show his parseltongue abilities?
Well, to be fair Riddle was ignorant of what that special ability entails. And Dumbledore was a right bastard to condemn an eleven year old just because of that. He could have directed Riddle to a lighter path but because of his malice and target (?) it leads Riddle into the part that he seamlessly walks now.
Or perhaps not. He was probably getting it wrong, he was probably doing it to manipulate the population and spite Dumbledore.
Harry smothers a snort. That would be something he would really do.
It particularly involves Harry that much. However, that was until last night.
Harry cursed Riddle existence to his heart.
Harry was pulled from his thoughts when Dumbledore started his lecture.
.