IV
"I'll be the actress staring in your bad dreams."
They say that time is the foundation of everything and everyone, that in truth, time will take its path, and the consequences are inevitable.
"It's broken?" The room fell silent and still, dumbledore himself lowered his head, almost shameful in a way. Isn't that ironic?
Hermione, clinged on ron even tighter as the words were said. They had gotton close these past days, rarely leaving eachothers sights, and ron blushing at every comment she made about him.
"Not exactly, Mr Weasley."
Ron tapped his foot impatiently, "Whats wrong with it then? Why can't we go home?" Harry saw how stiff dumbledore became as he placed the Turner onto the table infront of them, it glowed golden, but the light seemed to be flickering, on and off.
Hermione stepped forward, letting go of ron, to see the Turner more up close, "Why is it flickering? It's not supposed to." Even harry knew that time turner's were made to illuminate a golden glow at all times.
"There's magic in it, but not enough." Dumbledore spoke plainly, his eyes glancing between them and the Turner on the table which seemed to flicker more and more as the conversation went on.
"There's a necessary amount of dust that needs to be in it to transport a certain number of people, one travelling on its own can almost completely wipe out the magic, but three.." His voice seemed to crack slightly as he took a deep breath before he countined.
"There is dust in it, there is magic, there is enough for one to travel."
Ron seemed to grow more and more restless, his hands clenching into fists by his side. "What does it mean though?"
Dumbledore did not answer.
Nobody spoke up for moments of silence that felt like entire decades passed by.
"We can't all go home." Hermione seemed to ask, or was it a statement? Harry couldn't tell.
"Only one can, maybe two at most but I'm not sure if it'll work."
Harry's breath stopped, and ron's seemed to quicken.
At max, only two of them could go back; could go home.
The common room seemed to be silent, which wasn't odd for the slytherins to be in hushed whispers at the coners of the rooms but this time, the only noise could be heard from the fireplace cracking and some sharp exhales.
Finally, harry couldn't take the pending tension in the room so he turned to Orion; "Is there something wrong? Why is it so quiet?" Orion just shook his head disapprovingly and stayed quiet not saying a word.
Harry grumbled but decided to not press on the matter, he was still new, perhaps this was a traditional event of some kind?
"Harry, you should go." Orion whispered beside him, his voice as quiet as he could muster but it was echoed throughout the room and many turned to glare at him for interrupting the silence.
"What? Why?" Orion just glanced at the door and back to him, almost pleadingly begging him to go.
What in merlins name was going on?
As he made his way to stand, a harsh tug made him fall on his knees again.
He turned to see Walburga with her wand out, glaring at orion, "You cannot protect him, forever." She hissed at him.
For the first time, orion seemed to be annoyed at her, and he pushed harry to his feet and to the stairs of the boys dorm room in a quick motion of his wand.
That made harry's mind click.
Where was his wand? He had it a few moments ago?
Orion whispered something to walburga which made her tense up and then he glanced at harry, gave him a smile that almost reassured harry that whatever was going on wasn't that bad.
Without a warning, harry was pushed inside the dorm room, the door slamming behind him.
What. Was. Going. On.
"Orion?" Harry mumbled, placing his hand on the handle, turning it to no avail.
It was locked.
From the outside.
It was suffocating, a pounding ache in his chest, avoidable even as he tried to escape, run, run, run, run. It didn't stop, the pounding got louder like footsteps, running towards himself.
The water clapped itself around him, pushing and pushing.
Please. He thought, he was going to die. The water would press until there was anything left of him to press on.
Please. Please.
Let me live.
Harry woke with a start, immediately pushing himself up from apparently the cold dorm-room floor.
Only to be face to face, mere inches away from wide eyes blinking rapidly.
Tom stood up, towering over Harry who was still on his knees, which were starting to ache over the pressure.
"Harrison." The taller boy nodded to him, seemingly unfazed by the fact Harry had been sleeping right next to door on the floor even though his bed was a few meters away.
"Tom? What-? Why was everyone so silent? Whats going on?"
Instead of answering his question, Tom countined to let his eyes observe harry, a bored look in his eyes.
"Tom?"
Still, the boy stayed silent and composed, slightly crouching down to meet harry's eye.
"Tom, I swear to-"
Harry's vision stilled as he saw tom reach out his hand and it lingered a few inches away from harry's head until he lowered it to brush some strands away from his eyes.
Harry felt a intense euphoria feeling erupt inside of him, a rising heat that largened inside of his body.
He leaned into the touch, subconsciously, the feeling of warmth and comfort overlapping his desires to punch Tom in the face instead.
As he fell back into full consciousness, harry winced and instinctly pushed himself back, away from Tom as his hand lingered in the air, where harry's hair had been a few moments ago before lowering it and countining to stare plainly at harry.
"What do you want, riddle?" Harry choked out, his words coming out weaker then intended but atleast he didn't stutter or mutter them out so quietly Tom didnt hear him and he had to repeat himself.
"I would like to know if I offended you so in any way? And how I could repair those feelings of...discomfort?"
"What?"
"You don't seem to be comfortable meeting my eye in past conversations, I thought it was a simple tick you possessed until I saw you-"
You were watching me?
"-speaking and meeting Orion's eye without trouble. And ofcourse the way you seemed very reluctant to even walk beside me yesterday evening as we accompanied Flora."
"Your fancy-pancy words are making my head hurt more." Harry muttered, in hope of tom taking his hint and bugging off.
Instantly, harry realised his statement did not make Tom back down and instead, somehow, made him worse.
"A headache? Is this perhaps due to our physical connection mere moments ago? You seemed out of it. Or is it because of Flora's use of the word mudblood? Tell me, are you easily light-headed?"
Where was lestrange to make a big dramatic interruption when you needed him?
"My headache is because of your posh words that do not make sense in my half-blood, muggle-raised head so please do me a favour and leave me?"
"Muggle-raised?"
Harry let himself fall on his back, onto the floor, he had a feeling he was going to have to get used to Tom's fancy-pansy words and his overbearing questions.