Part 2
Magical Mayhem
Harry stared out the window and tucked his knees to his chest. The window seat was nice. The wall and window were both curved outwards, so a bench had been placed in the curve with fluffy pillows and soft cushions. Snape called it a bay window.
Despite the comforting room he was in, Harry felt resentment towards Death bubbling up as he watched Hadrian lounging in the sun outside. He was lying on his stomach, leaning on his elbows with a book in his hands, and he was smiling softly as he turned the pages. That wasn't what bothered Harry.
Lily was sitting next to him with her own book, gently running her fingers through Hadrian's hair as they both read. Death had to be very cruel if they purposefully put Harry where he was just to make him watch. First, the people who were almost his parents but weren't, then Petunia at the orphanage, and now he had to watch a family he could have had in a different life be happy without him.
Harry just couldn't understand why Death would do it. Death said they liked Harry. If they were expecting Harry to appreciate what they'd done… Death would be sorely disappointed.
"Harry?" He didn't turn as Snape came up behind him.
"Yes?" Harry didn't take his eyes of Hadrian and Lily.
"I was wondering if you'd be up to meeting someone." Snape sounded cautious, and Harry sighed.
"I'm not fragile." He said, "As long as you trust whoever it is then I'm sure it'll be fine. I trust you." Harry didn't know how to interpret Snape's small yet sharp inhale, so he ignored it.
"Alright. I'll send him in and you two can get acquainted." Snape's footsteps retreated, and then paused. "I think you'll find that you have quite a few things in common." Then Snape was gone.
Harry watched Hadrian roll over and laugh at something Lily said, and she grinned widely before reaching over to mess up his already tousled hair. Hadrian stuck his tongue out at her childishly.
"You don't have to watch them, you know." Someone said softly from behind Harry. "It hurts, right?"
Harry didn't say anything, just clutched his knees harder. He sort of recognized the voice, so he'd no doubt met them before, but Harry couldn't place where he knew the man from.
The sort-of-a-stranger approached, and sat down on the opposite side of the window bench from him. Harry could see him in his peripheral, but he didn't actually turn to look at him.
"Growing up without a family… it's hard." The man told him quietly, "I used to look at happy families and hate them a little bit for it."
"I don't hate them for being happy." Harry disagreed. "I see them and I imagine myself in Hadrian's place. What hurts the most is how easy it is to see it. We have the same face. It's like I'm watching a better version of myself living the life I've always wanted."
"I can see why that would hurt." Harry finally looked over at the stranger sitting next to him, and he realised it wasn't a stranger at all.
"Tom Riddle." He said before he could stop himself. Harry was then absolutely shocked Death had allowed that! Before he could backpedal, Tom laughed.
"So the orphanage still hangs my picture up then?" His brown eyes crinkled at the corners, and Harry was faintly reminded of the diary Horcrux. Their smiles were nothing alike, though. "The Mistress, way back when I was at Wool's Orphanage, originally hung the picture to show the other kids who to avoid. I'm guessing the new lady didn't take it down because she either didn't know who I was or simply didn't care."
Harry just nodded, looking back out the window to hide the surprise he felt. Tom Riddle had been a murderous psychopath when Harry knew him, and yet here he was laughing with Harry and sharing his own messed up childhood stories in a way to connect with him. Harry felt like the world was upside down.
"Do you remember having a family?" Tom asked, genuine curiosity in his eyes. "Before the orphanage." Harry bit his tongue, thinking.
"I don't remember my parents." Harry admitted quietly, mixing truth with lies. "I did have an Aunt though. She called me a freak, and she hated me for ruining her 'normal family.' I was about… three, I think, when she left me at the orphanage." Tom didn't respond, but Harry wasn't worried. Either Death would stop Harry from talking or they wouldn't, and that was that.
"Why did she call you a freak?" Harry wasn't expecting the question, and he turned to Tom in surprise. "Your Aunt."
"... I did things other kids didn't do." Harry turned back to the window. "I don't really remember what it was specifically, but she knew I wasn't the same as her. She knew I didn't belong with her family."
"I'm sorry, that must have been hard at such a young age." Tom said. Harry didn't hear any pity, and he was grateful for it. Tom sounded sincere, as though he was empathising with him, and Harry realised Tom probably related to him more than anyone else in the house.
'I think you'll find that you have quite a few things in common'
Harry chewed his lip. Snape had been right. Except, Harry and Tom had always been alike, even before. Harry had hated it then, the likeness between them, but he didn't hate it this time. He was sort of… comforted by it, knowing someone understood even a little.
"Did you have a family?" Harry asked, turning to look at Tom. "Before the orphanage?"
"No, I was born there." Tom told him. "My mother died there shortly afterwards." Harry already knew that, but it was different being told by Tom. This Tom, anyway.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be, I never knew her." Tom smiled. "Nor the rest of my family. I eventually discovered my father and grandparents died when I was a teenager, but I found out purely by accident. I never went looking for my father, I was scared that it would hurt to meet the man who'd let me grow up alone at that orphanage."
Harry blinked, only barely keeping his surprise from showing on his face, and absorbed the information. Voldemort was the one who killed his father and grandparents, framing his uncle in the process, and leaving Tom as the only surviving Riddle. But the man in front of Harry was not Voldemort, he was just Tom Riddle. The person Voldemort could have been once upon a time if he hadn't become so dark and twisted, as he did in Harry's original life.
"I bet my Aunt is out there somewhere." Harry told Tom, "Her and her husband. But… I really don't want to look for them or see them again. They never cared about me, and they never tried to hide it." They also probably didn't even remember him, or exist, but that was another matter altogether.
"I get that." Tom smiled. Harry frowned, thinking.
"When did you leave?"
"The orphanage?" Harry nodded. "After I finished my education at Hogwarts. I was eighteen, I had some Wizarding money of my own, and I worked up the courage to accept my Wizarding heritage and money. My mother was a Gaunt, which is a very old Wizarding family."
"Are there other Gaunts?" Harry asked curiously as he realised he didn't know what happened to Tom's uncle in this world.
"No, it's just me." Tom smiled, "I was glad, in a way, I was barely an adult. I was scared that I'd have family whom I had never met, and that I'd disappoint them somehow."
"I can see that." Harry nodded. "I can't imagine how weird it would be to suddenly have family you were supposed to care about just because of blood, instead of building trust or loyalty with them."
"Do you have people who care?" Tom asked softly, "Because of real trust or loyalty?" Harry bit his lip and looked out the window.
Of course he did. Hermione and Ron. Ginny, Luna, Dumbledore, Sirius, Remus, all of the Weasleys, so many people. But… he'd left all of them behind. Death had taken them away from him. He was alone again.
"No." Harry whispered. His hands tightened around his knees, and he shifted so he could pull his knees closer into his chest. It was uncomfortable, but it did distract him. He didn't want to think about everyone he left behind.
Fingertips brushed the back of his hand, and Harry inhaled sharply. Glancing over, he saw Tom staring at him with sad understanding. Tom couldn't actually know what he was thinking, or relate to being shoved into a new reality full of people he knew but didn't know, but Harry was comforted by the sympathy anyway.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Tom said earnestly. Harry shook his head, looking back out the window.
"You didn't." He said, "Just sad."
"Well, then I'm sorry for making you sad."
"It's okay." Tom smiled at him, and Harry gave a wobbly smile back.
"Would you like to see your room?" Tom offered after a pause.
"I've seen Hadrian's room." Harry frowned.
"No, Snape set up a room for you." Tom said with a small laugh. "This is Potter Manor, if no one actually told you. They have plenty of guest rooms, and Snape has chosen one for you. I hope that's alright."
"Oh, that was nice of him." Harry blinked away his surprise.
"So, would you like to see?" Tom asked. Harry thought about it, and then nodded.
"Sure."
Tom led him out down many hallways and decorated rooms, but Harry found himself on the same corridor Hadrian's room was on. Harry's room was two doors down from his, actually.
"Here, have a look." Tom opened the door for Harry, who stepped inside.
The floors were the same white marble as everywhere else, and the room was decorated with soft blue and greens. The four-poster bed reminded Harry of Hogwarts just a little. To top it all off, the room was twice or maybe even three times as large as the Dursleys' second bedroom that he had called home for all of his years at Hogwarts.
"It's… big." Harry winced, unable to think of anything else to say. Luckily, Tom just laughed.
"Yeah, if the orphanage is the same as I remember it being then this is probably a little overwhelming." He smiled at Harry. "But don't worry, it gets easier over time."
"If you say so." Harry muttered with a frown, disagreeing. "You said Snape set it up?"
"Yeah, he picked the colours." Tom told him, reaching out to run a finger along the mint colored ceiling trim. "All the guest rooms are the same. Blank, white, but well furnished. When a new guest comes, someone usually sets it up by adding colour to the room. It shows that someone is staying there, but it also makes the guest feel more welcome."
"That actually makes sense." Harry acknowledged.
He looked around the room, gently touching the dresser that was blue so light it could be mistaken for white if you didn't look closely enough.
"Do you want some time to settle in?" Tom asked, catching Harry's attention again.
"... Yes please." Tom just nodded.
"We'll all be downstairs if you need anything, so don't be afraid to wander around and find us if you need something."
"Alright, thank you." Harry saw Tom smile, and then he was gone. Harry took a deep breath, held it, and then blew it out a little harshly. "Now what?" He whispered to himself. "What am I supposed to do?"
Harry sat down on the bed and touched the thick comforter that had lain on top of the bed for who knows how long. How many guests had the Potter Manor seen come and go? How many people had slept in the same room Harry sat in? How many different colours had it been over the years?
Biting the inside of his cheek anxiously, Harry couldn't help but feel a little awkward in the large space. He hadn't ever had a room so large all to himself. He shared a large room with all of the Gryffindor boys in his year, and other than that he was either at the Dursleys' or the Weasleys' place. Neither had rooms so luxuriously large.
Sighing, Harry decided to leave it alone and think about it later. Maybe he could find the kitchen? He sort of remembered the way… if he was going to be living at Potter Manor he really should know his way around it, right?
He hopped off the bed, left the room, and gently shut the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, he set off in the direction he was mostly sure led to the kitchen.
Harry ran his fingertips along the wall, tracing the carvings that rang along them. Had they been carved by magic? By hand? Did the carvings have a deeper meaning besides what he could see? Did he have a Potter Manor in his previous life? Did it have the same carvings?
Harry stopped touching the walls.
His eyes widened as he spotted the kitchen doorway, and then almost laughed. He'd found it! Harry entered the kitchen a little triumphantly. He almost couldn't believe he actually remembered–
Harry froze. Someone was standing in the kitchen. Someone tall, someone with familiar laugh lines and grey eyes and wavy black hair. Someone Harry knew so thoroughly and immediately his heart nearly shattered.
It was Sirius. His godfather. Sirius Black was standing in the kitchen and Harry didn't know what to do. It wasn't his Sirius. It wasn't. Seeing Sirius was almost worse than seeing his parents. He'd known Sirius. He'd loved Sirius. He still did, and he was mourning Sirius. Mourning the loss of his godfather who loved him and had been a part of his life in a way his parents never had been. Not that it was their fault, but it was still true.
"Hadrian?" Sirius' bright eyes found him, and there was soft fondness in his gaze that made Harry choke on nothing. "Hadrian you're pale as a sheet, what's wrong?" Sirius took two steps forward and Harry took two stumbling steps backwards.
"Stop." Harry said shakily, his breathing stuttering. Sirius stopped, and Harry was glad for it. Unfortunately, the hurt in Sirius' eyes was too real for him. He'd seen that pain before too many times to count.
Before he knew it, Harry was running.
"Hey–!" Harry ran from the room and down a hallway, desperately looking for either Snape or Tom because they would keep Sirius away from him.
Sirius ran after him, calling him Hadrian and asking what was wrong in that familiar voice, and Harry pressed his hands over his ears. If Sirius kept talking Harry was going to snap–
"What's wrong, are you okay?" A hand came down on his shoulder. The touch burned with familiarity, but Harry found no comfort in it. It wasn't his Sirius. His Sirius was dead. His Sirius fell through the veil because of Bellatrix Lestrange who he'd failed to Crucio–
Harry smacked the hand away.
"Don't touch me!" Harry found himself shouting as he stumbled backwards until his back hit a wall. "Go away!"
"Hadrian–" The lights exploded above their heads, and Sirius let out a shout of alarm. "Hadrian– what the hell!?" Sirius whipped his eyes to Harry and he looked… afraid. Harry didn't know Sirius was afraid of Harry or for Harry, but he didn't like it either way. "What's going on?!" The panic in his voice made Harry's heart clench painfully, and the shelf behind Sirius collapsed as the wood splintered and broke. It made Sirius jump, and Harry felt like screaming in frustration.
What was wrong with his magic? Was it Death? Harry had no illusions about his abilities; he was strong, but he shouldn't be that strong. Death had obviously messed another thing up. Why go after his magic? It was the one thing that Harry thought could never be taken from him, but yet there he was. Death had changed and warped his magic into something unrecognisable. It only made Harry angrier, and that meant one of the windows blew inwards and showered the room in glass.
"What the hell is going on here!?" Harry looked up to see Tom in the doorway, looking between Sirius and Harry with narrowed eyes. He seemed angry… at Sirius.
"There's something wrong with Hadrian!" Sirius yelled, pointing at Harry. "I was trying to talk to him and then the bloody room just exploded–"
Another window shattered at the reminder of the absolute shitshow Harry's magic had become. It wasn't his fault, and he'd find a way for Death to pay for it!
"Harry." Tom ignored Sirius and strode for Harry, crouching down so Harry didn't have to crane his neck up to look at him. "You need to calm down."
"I can't!" Harry exclaimed angrily, "He was yelling at me, and then I got mad, and now everything keeps blowing up and I don't understand!" Harry snapped, and a picture that was hung on the wall cracked.
"Tom, what's going on here!?" Sirius shouted, "Because that is not my godson."
"Well obviously!" Harry flinched as the third and last window in the living room blew inwards. "Just stop talking, please!"
"You look just like Hadrian, but so obviously not!" Sirius exclaimed, pulling out his wand and deflecting some of the glass shards, "Someone explain what's going on now." Anger curled in Harry’s chest, and then Sirius gasped in shock as his wand flew out his hand and skittered across the floor to Harry's feet.
Harry shrunk backwards into the wall as he realised he'd disarmed Sirius without even meaning to. He blinked at the wand on the floor and stared at Sirius' shocked and outraged expression. What in the hell–
"Harry, look at me." Tom said with soft firmness, and Harry's eyes snapped to him. "It's okay, he isn't going to hurt you." Harry blinked, freezing in place.
"... What?" He asked cautiously. Was that what Tom thought Harry was freaking out about?
"I know he was yelling, and he obviously has no tact whatsoever," Tom shot Sirius a glare, "but you're not in any danger. You have to calm down, and breathe. Your magic is responding to your emotions."
"But why?" Harry frowned. "I didn't do anything!"
"You didn't have to." Tom said patiently. "You've probably noticed that this only happens when you're angry, or frustrated, or scared, right?" Harry nodded sharply, "Part of learning magic is learning to channel it. Right now, though, just breathe."
"Okay, what's going on?" Sirius said accusingly, and both Harry and Tom looked up at him. "I'm clearly missing something."
"Sirius, there was a magical accident this morning." Tom sighed, scooping up Sirius' wand and standing up. "This is Harry, he was living in an orphanage before today."
"Okay, why does he look like that?" Sirius gestured to… all of him.
"I've always looked like this." Harry muttered.
"The similarities between Harry and Hadrian are purely coincidental." Tom placated, handing Sirius back his wand. "They–"
"Harry!" Hadrian took one look at the room and then he was running up to Harry and grabbing his hand. "What happened, are you alright?"
"Hadrian, be careful." Tom said, "He might not want you to touch him."
"It's okay." Harry replied faintly, blinking in surprise at the blatant concern on Hadrian's face. It looked so weird to see that look on his own face.
"What happened?" Hadrian repeated.
"He startled me." Harry said, looking over at Sirius. "I wasn't expecting him to be in the kitchen, and so I just sort of… ran away. He followed me."
"You were in the kitchen?" Tom turned to Sirius with an accusational expression, "That's on the other side of the Manor!"
"Uncle Sirius…" Hadrian sighed, turning to his godfather. "I'm disappointed in you, and Harry deserves an apology." Harry blinked at the disapproving calm in Hadrian's voice, and Sirius actually looked chastised by it.
"It's fine." Harry shook his head. "He was probably just confused." Harry, on the other hand, had no reasonable excuse.
"I am sorry." Sirius said seriously, and then a small grin slid across his face. "Reckon I gave you a bit of a scare, right? Especially with the yelling. My bad."
"... I guess." Harry frowned. He didn't know how to explain his reaction, and he seriously needed to get himself and his new magic under control. Death was obviously trying to make things harder, and Harry just needed to figure out how to deal with it.
"Oh my–" Lily gasped as she appeared in the doorway, and that was when Harry realised exactly what he'd done to her living room.
"I'm so sorry." Harry said, paling. "I didn't mean to, I swear. I'm–"
"Harry, it's okay." Hadrian took his hand again, and Harry was suddenly reminded of Hermione. "We can fix it."
"You can?" Harry blinked in surprise.
"Of course." Hadrian grinned, and Harry could see a glimmer of himself in it. "Magic is cool like that."
"Oh, right." Harry felt like an idiot, but honestly he'd never seen magic clean up a room like the one he'd just annihilated.
"Are you feeling better?" Tom asked gently. Harry nodded, and then he looked back at Lily. She was still staring at the room with a hand over her mouth.
"I'm really sorry, I don't know–"
"You don't have to apologise." Hadrian sighed, rolling his eyes. "Even if you did, you've apologised several times already." Harry frowned.
"I should go." Sirius said, making Harry look over at him. "I'm sorry for startling you."
"... It's okay." Harry looked away and swallowed. "Sorry for taking your… stick." Harry wasn't supposed to know what a wand was.
"You mean his wand?" Hadrian blinked.
"Yeah, he disarmed me." Sirius grinned. "Definitely powerful and cool, but terrifying as all hell too." Harry cringed, wincing.
"I'm sorry, I don't even know how I did that." Harry admitted. "I won't do it again."
"You can't promise that if you don't know how you did it, can you?" Sirius laughed, "You must be more powerful than Tom. Terrifying thought if you can't control it." Sirius' voice was teasing, but Harry actually flinched.
That was true. Harry was supposedly as powerful as Tom Riddle in his past life, so how powerful was he now? He'd destroyed the living room just because he was angry at his magic. What if it happened again? Was this part of Death's sick and twisted plan? Terrifying people with his power because things always exploded around him or disarmed people as he walked by? Was it karma for something he'd done in his first life?
"Sirius, you really should go." Tom said firmly, eyeing Harry carefully.
"Here, you can come help me with dinner." Lily smiled shakily. Sirius nodded, and he shot Harry a grin before he left with her. It made Harry's chest hurt.
"Harry, ignore him." Tom said once they'd disappeared down the hallway. "It wasn't your fault."
"He said I was terrifying." Harry said before he could stop himself. "Is that true?" Voldemort was terrifying for his magic. Harry wasn't, he never had been, he couldn't—
"No, it's not." Hadrian said before Tom could. His hand squeezed Harry's comfortingly, and Harry squeezed back. "You're powerful, which isn't the same."
"But I scared him." Harry frowned.
"No, you interested him." Hadrian corrected. "Sure, it was probably confusing at first, but now he just thinks it's cool. Not many fourteen year olds can do magic like that without a wand. It means you're extremely powerful, Harry, and that's not a bad thing. You just need to learn how to control it, alright?"
"Oh." Harry said dumbly. "... Alright." Then he blinked in realisation. "Actually, I'm fifteen."
"You are?" Hadrian blinked in surprise. "When's your birthday?" Harry opened his mouth, only to find he couldn't actually voice his own birthday.
His tongue felt like it was fused to the roof of his mouth. He couldn't say July 31st, because Death didn't want him to have the same birthday as Hadrian. Harry scrambled for a birthday and when he finally spoke it was because Death forced an answer through his frozen lips.
"December 31st." Harry froze as he heard Tom inhale sharply. Shit. That was Tom's birthday. What the hell Death!?
"1979?" Harry nodded, "Oh, that's cool actually." Hadrian said with a grin. "We'll be the same age for exactly five months every year."
"Your birthday is July 31st?" Hadrian nodded happily in response. "Oh, that's cool." Yeah, and Death was a jerk.
"That means we're in the same year at Hogwarts too!" Hadrian exclaimed, looking at Tom in excitement. Harry blinked.
Ohhh… that was probably why Death wouldn't let Harry say his real birthday. If he'd said July 31st, 1979, he and Hadrian wouldn't be in the same Hogwarts year. During his mini revelation, Tom and Hadrian were still talking.
"He's coming to Hogwarts in September, right? I can't imagine they wouldn't let him, even if he's fifteen."
"He'll just be Sorted along with the first years." Tom confirmed.
"You're going to love Hogwarts, Harry." Hadrian smiled at him, "I can show you all my favourite places!"
"The Magical School." Harry said, as if he were checking that he was right. "Snape explained the Houses to me. It sounds interesting."
"Just wait till I tell mother!" Hadrian beamed, "It's going to be so awesome to have you at Hogwarts! We'll get it all figured out, I promise." He gave Harry one last smile and then disappeared out the door.
"I wouldn't worry about it." Tom said, smiling after Hadrian. "Lily and James can usually do whatever they set their minds to. It'll work out, and Headmaster Dumbledore will undoubtedly understand the situation."
"Right." Harry said faintly. It was bizarre to hear Tom Riddle compliment Dumbledore in any way. Tom saw his expression and misunderstood it.
"This all really bothered you, didn't it?" Harry shrugged.
"Sorry?"
"Don't be." Tom shook his head. "He literally chased you through the house, you're allowed to be upset. Hell, even blowing up the living room was a fair reaction for someone who can't control their magic."
"Yeah." Harry didn't really know what to say, so he just shifted his weight. Then he paused. "Why was… that man… here?"
"Ah, Black shows up for dinner almost every day." Harry blinked blankly, and Tom once again misunderstood his expression. Harry was really thankful no one seemed to be able to guess the real reason he was always confused. Tom laughed. "Sirius Black, that's his name. He's one of James' best friends."
"Ah, I see."
"I'm sorry, we probably should've warned you."
"It's fine." Harry turned away to look at the destroyed room, and he couldn't help but feel like he really did need to apologise again. He'd literally ruined an entire room just because he was mad that his magic wasn't acting right.
"Anyway, it'll be fine. Lily and James'll decide what's best to do with the mess; you don't have to worry." Tom smiled, and Harry nodded reluctantly.
"Hey Harry?" Hadrian popped into the room with a wide smile.
"Yeah?" Harry blinked.
"Wanna play Exploding Snap? It's a magical game. I can teach you!" Hadrian sounded as excited as Ron was when he used to offer, and it took everything inside Harry not to smile fondly.
"Yeah, sure." Harry sighed, "Sounds great."