No more lies (To Victory)

CHAPTER 11

••°°••

Harry was rudely awakened by weird noises and… Tom's hissing?

Was he still dreaming?

It took a moment to force his eyes open and the very first thing that greeted him was Tom, glaring murderously at something. 

Harry extended his hand and summoned his glasses, not wanting to move since he was so damn comfortable, and was surprised to see a hawk glaring at him and Tom.

Tom.

Memories from last night hit him like a train, leaving him slightly dizzy as blood rushed to his cheeks; Harry felt himself starting to blush.

As if knowing what he was thinking, Tom looked down, smirked, and pushed his fingers into Harry's hair - something he'd clearly been doing for a while; Harry was so utterly relaxed he didn't want to move.

He sighed deeply, his eyes falling close once more, never having imagined someone raking his hair would feel so good. It felt too good to be real.

Perhaps it truly was still a dream.

"You're almost purring, darling."

"Mhm, shut up and keep doing that," Harry mewled, thinking he deserved to be spoiled like this once in a while. He’ll take what he can get.

"And you called me a cat," Tom muttered absentmindedly, but Harry heard it anyway, and his expression morphed into a self-satisfied smirk.

"No, I called you a kitten." Tom's fingers tightened in a clear warning. "Oh please, don't pretend you didn't lik-umph!"

Tom slapped a hand over Harry's mouth, briefly wondering why he was putting up with this insufferable gryffindor. "For once, Harry, shut up."

Harry grinned, looking up at Tom daringly, mouth opening to say make me, when the hawk screeched again.

Whoops. Harry totally forgot about it.

"Who's that from? And how did it get in here?"

Tom shrugged. "I haven't the slightest. However, magical birds have a way of reaching their recipients, so it mostly made its way here through the pipes and alike. You should probably check whatever it brought. Might be important if it dared to venture into such a place."

Harry begrudgingly admitted that Tom may be right.

However, there was only one problem with this plan: he didn't want to move.

He deserved to laze around after such a gruelling night.

“Come here,” he spoke to the hawk, who had the audacity to shake its head. “Now, or I’ll set you on bloody fire.”

Tom snorted, clearly amused by Harry's antics, but his words did have the desired effect; the hawk flew over, indignant, and stretched out its leg.

“There, wasn't that hard, was it?” Harry grumbled at the bird who somehow managed to look like it would rather be anywhere else, but here. He'd never seen a bird with such a superiority complex. “You can leave now. I don’t have any food down here, go to the owlery if you want something.”

The hawk let out an ear-piercing screech, raising its talons. This time, Harry summoned a small flame. “I’m not fucking kidding. Just try me.”

With the last angry screech, the hawk spread its wings and flew away.

Bloody hell.

“Well, it’s… cute, watching you threaten a bird,” Tom chuckled. “It must’ve wanted to build a nest in your hair.”

Harry actually smacked Tom this time, for his sheer audacity.

He sat up, looking incredibly disgruntled.

“With this sort of attitude, I just might set you on fire. Now shut up, I wanna see what this is.”

Firstly, Harry felt the parchment with his magic, looking for any curses that could eat his flesh, but didn’t find anything.

Not even some sort of tracking charm or a potion. Brilliant.

“That’s a Malfoy crest,” Tom pointed out, looking at the letters on Harry's lap. “Seems like nothing’s changed.”

Harry rolled his eyes and pulled out the letter, begrudgingly impressed by the expensive quality of the parchment.

Merlin forbid the Malfoys’ dare to use something common and affordable to the masses.

There were two letters inside.

The first was a-

“A formal invite to the Malfoy Yule Ball?” Tom whistled. “Those are - or at least used to be - excessively exclusive. And Merlin, even the wording is exactly the same.” Tom furrowed his nose in disgust. “No creativity. Truly, it's been fifty years.”

“Shut up, they’re idiots. Influential idiots, so no one is going to care.”

“What’s in the next letter?” Tom asked, before Harry decided to point out that his followers were imbeciles, although that wasn’t too far off the mark.

“Um… oh-oh. Holy shit.”

“Did they name you their heir? Because you look beyond shocked, darling.”

Harry snorted. “No, this is better. Here-” he shoved the letter into Tom’s hands. “Read.”

Tom’s eyes raked through the parchment, his amusement growing with each sentence.

“His most sincere apologies?” Tom scoffed. “As if. He’s just trying to cover his arse for slighting you, afraid you’ll curse him on sight during the Ball.”

“Must’ve had a good freak-out after Draco told him he invited me along.” Harry grinned manically. He wished he was there to see Lucius' initial freak-out.

“Well, you did influence his Mark.” Tom gave Harry an unamused look, slightly annoyed, but even more impressed that Harry could manipulate such magic - parselmagic. It’s what his Marks were based on; he just never counted for another parselmouth being born. But Harry, seemingly, was an exception to everything. “He must think I am possessing you, since he also knows about me.”

Harry shrugged. 

“More sleepless nights for him. And he did say he’s at my service. Do you think that’s to glean out if you’re with me or not?”

“Definitely. Lucius isn’t as sly as he thinks he is.”

“Well, you picked your followers. Should’ve looked for more than simpering fools.”

Tom pinched the boy next to him, enjoying the painted squeal he got in return. “I was gathering the most influential heirs. It’s not my fault their descendants became… so lacking. Abraxas was a pompous git, as you’d call him, but he was useful, quick and precise.”

Harry looked at Tom in silent contemplation.

“Do you miss them?” he asked quietly, wondering if Tom’s loneliness, his isolation was affecting him much more profoundly than he originally thought. Tom may be a creature of solitude, but everyone needed socialisation in order not to go mad.

Tom snorted. “Merlin, no. I may have already had their loyalty, but it didn’t make them any less annoying. Especially living with them; you know how it is in dorms - Abraxas always took a bloody hour in the bathroom. I had to curse him on more than one occasion just to hurry up.”

Harry nodded absentmindedly, thinking about his own dormmates.

“Well, Draco isn’t much different. He takes forever doing his hair, and it looks the same every time anyway. Bloody ridiculous.”

Tom felt a pang of jealousy at the mention of the youngest Malfoy, and that Harry had knowledge of the boy’s morning rituals. 

“But that’s nothing compared to what happens at the Gryffindor tower each morning,” Harry went on, oblivious to Tom’s mood. “Everyone wakes up late and then clog up the showers. Thank Merlin I wake up earlier than them, otherwise I’d never be on time.”

“There’s also your extracurricular excursions to take into account, my dear. As much as I’d hate to admit it, you’ve been exploring the castle much more avidly than I have, in my time.”

“Of course I have,” Harry replied smugly, and received yet another pinch for his cheek.

“Oh, don’t gloat. I didn’t have an invisibility cloak back in my time, and couldn’t slip away as easily. Only when I became a prefect did I have a free range to explore the castle to my heart's content.”

“We should go explore together, then. There is an abandoned portion of the dungeons that students aren’t allowed to approach. I wonder what could be there. It was always too risky to approach with slytherins just waiting to curse me, and my darling friends refusing to go anywhere near ‘those evil slytherins’, but now seems like the perfect time.”

“And Snape,” Tom added, because he was the one to hear Harry ranting and raving about the unfair treatment he got from the Potion’s Master, and downright stalking at times. There were quite a few speeches on how Harry was going to disembowel the man or force-feed him his own bloody potions, then watch him choke on them as he died, but things have changed drastically from Harry ranting about the man’s upcoming murder to Harry ranting about the man actually doing his job as a professor and the Head of the House, and genuinely trying to help Harry.

As a slytherin himself, Tom knew the unfair treatment slytherins got from the other houses, even back in his own time. It was evident that the bias got so much worse since his counterpart rose to power and Slytherin became the house that raised his future followers. And Tom was glad to see someone as fierce as Severus Snape protecting the students - something Slughorn never really did.

And whilst he could understand Harry’s need to take care of everything on his own, and could understand his frustration at Snape for prying into his personal life, Tom knew it was for the best.

Harry would never admit to needing help.

Good thing Snape wasn’t asking. 

Tom couldn’t do much while being stuck in that damned diary, but this won’t last forever. Eventually, he’ll gain a permanent body, and then there will be no one to stop him from enacting revenge on Harry’s behalf.

“He’s been acting weird. Allowing me to get away with things I usually wouldn’t.” Harry frowned. “Perhaps that’s not Snape, but an impersonator.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “It will not get you out of the health exam, Harry. That man will drag you down kicking and screaming, and knock you out, if needed.”

Harry crossed his arms and pouted. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.”

“I never said it didn’t,” Tom smirked. “You should also talk to Snape if you are truly attending the Malfoy Yule Ball. You may be emancipated, but so far, they’re oblivious to your awareness. It would be best if the Head of the House gave you his direct permission.”

“McGonagall would never agree and would immediately go prattle to Dumbledore,” Harry grumbled. “And after last night, I’m not sure I’ll leave the Ball alive - it was so utterly exhausting. I can’t do that again so soon.”

“Oh, don’t lie, dear. You had so much fun. Especially as causing chaos by just being there seems to be one of your traits.”

Harry’s lips stretched into a reluctant smile. He did have fun, mostly.

However, the last hours of the night were the most enjoyable. Most likely because he was with Tom.

And they kissed.

Oh Merlin, they kissed.

Harry still couldn’t wrap his mind around that, last night feeling more like a dream than a reality.

Because, why would Tom bloody Riddle want to kiss him?

Harry knew he was powerful, that Tom liked his cruel streak and even encouraged his darker desires, but as far as he knew, there was nothing appealing about him.

“What’s got you so lost in your head, darling?” Tom asked, shifting, so he was even closer to Harry.

“Why did you kiss me?” Harry blurred out, ignoring the heat rushing to his cheeks. Couldn’t he have phrased it differently? Merlin.

Tom frowned.

“Isn’t that obvious, Harry?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused, which, in turn, made Harry confused. He wouldn’t have bloody asked if he had known, damn it. 

Tom must’ve read his expression, because he leaned in closer, features softening into one of his rare moments of softness, as Harry called them.

“I don’t know how it is in your time, darling, but where I’m from, it’s a way to show affection. Unless…” Harry didn’t believe for a second the look of innocence Tom tried to project. “Unless you go about kissing everyone, these days? Social norms do change, I’ll admit, but that seems a bit excessive- ouch!”

“Don’t be a prat!” Harry yelled, hitting Tom once more for a good measure. Someone had to keep Tom in line, after all. “I don’t kiss anyone!”

“Just me?”

“Yes!”

Tom’s smirk was victorious.

Harry scowled, mostly at himself for falling into the other boy’s trap. Why was he being such an idiot today? That kiss must’ve scrambled his brain. There was no other explanation.

“Well, I’d appreciate it immensely if I stayed the only one you kiss, Harry dear.” The possessive glint in the slytherin’s eyes was back, and only now Harry seemed to realize he’s seen it aimed at him numerous times before, but he never fully realized what it was, or why. Now it seemed so painstakingly clear. He must need new glasses. Yes, that must be it. “If you’d allow that, of course.”

“But why me?” 

Harry hated how vulnerable he sounded just then.

He learned from a young age that being vulnerable meant getting hurt or ridiculed. That it was only giving someone else permission to play with your emotions, allowing them to get to you.

It was a dangerous zone he did his best to avoid completely, but he had to be sure Tom wasn’t just mocking him. Wasn’t just trying to manipulate him for whatever goal he had, because Harry wasn’t sure he could take such a hit right now, or ever.

Tom was his closest friend.

The only one to know Harry’s deepest secrets. The only one to know of his past, of what he had to endure to get where he is now. The only one to know Harry’s true self, so why, in Merlin’s name, would Tom want him?

He was lacking.

It was absurd.

Tom seemed to have caught a glimpse of his thoughts, because his expression turned to one of fury, that morphed into sorrow.

“Harry…” It was a mere whisper, but Harry flinched back, turning away. He didn’t want pity. “No, don’t do that. Not you.” Tom reached out, gently cusping Harry’s chin and turning the boy’s face towards his own. Harry still didn’t meet his eyes, so Tom started to gently stroke his cheek. “Harry… you are the only one in my rather long existence I’ve seen as an equal to myself. My only true friend and companion. I’m sure it’s safe to say that no soul on this earth knows me like you do, dear. And no one would dare to challenge me so fiercely as you do. You are a force, aren’t you, darling?” This time, Tom waited until Harry lifted his eyes to meet his; the boy was utterly baffled to not only see sincerity in his eyes, but also sheer fascination, bordering on obsession.

Tom was telling the truth.

He was being completely, utterly honest.

Harry could feel it.

“My vicious untamed creature,” Tom whispered, taking Harry’s hand and placing a kiss on his knuckles, whilst his eyes - so full of worship - never left Harry’s. “You have no idea how fascinating you are, how anyone could only dream of the privilege of having you. Your magic sings to me. Your power is divine. And your beauty… darling, you’ve captured me like a spider does its prey. I cannot fathom how you are unable to see yourself in the same light as I do, because if you did, you’d be just as enamoured by it - just as gone.”

Harry’s whole face was scarlet and he could seldom breathe as Tom spoke. He prayed for it not to be a dream; a cruel joke of fate.

“So when you ask me, why you, darling, I find that question absurd, as you are the only one on this earth I would ever consider worthy enough to be my companion, and you mine, if you’d allow me such pleasure.”

Tears fell from Harry’s eyes without him even noticing.

It was unfair. Totally, completely unfair, how such a fucking prick like Tom could also be so smooth, and dare he say, romantic.

He made Harry feel things he didn't think he could. He knew he harboured a crush on Tom for some time now - the whole realization was a bit of a shock, really - but he never, not in a million years would've thought Tom held similar sentiments towards him.

He was the Dark Lord - how could he love?

Could he?

Could Harry?

It was completely uncharted territory and Harry was going into it blind.

Tom, however, seemed to know what he was doing. Or was he faking confidence?

His words hit something deep in Harry, touched his soul, even. No one ever spoke to him in such a way, in such a gentle, reverent tone, as if afraid Harry would break.

Tom was gentle. Beyond what Harry thought him capable of.

It gave him hope.

"Alright," Harry uttered, ignoring just how rough his voice sounded, how his eyes still burned with unshed tears. What was wrong with him? He never cried. "As long as you are genuine about this, Tom. As long as it isn't some sort of game." He couldn't take it if it was.

It would ruin him.

Tom's eyes lit up with joy. A wide grin spread over his face - the boy looked as if he had won the lottery.

“Thank you, Harry,” Tom placed a chaste kiss on Harry’s knuckles once more - and Harry was not swooning on the inside. “You have no idea just how happy you’ve made me.”

Harry had some idea.

He himself couldn’t believe what was happening - to what he just agreed to - but the link he shared with Tom was buzzing with contentment. 

Harry offered a shy smile, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach. And only then did he seem to realize just how close he and Tom were sitting.

Practically on top of each other, holding hands.

His gaze shifted towards Tom’s lips, that he - Harry bloody Potter - kissed, then to the ever- knowing look Tom seemed so fond of wearing, and he bolted.

“Uh, brea-breakfast! We should- we should get breakfast. Yes. Right now.”

Tom didn’t move an inch. Instead, he draped himself lazily over the couch as his eyes raked Harry up and down, much like a predator observing its prey.

Harry did his best to will away the goosebumps Tom’s intense gaze erected, but it was futile - his body was a traitor.

It was all Riddle’s fault.

“Why, darling, I was just about to devour you for breakfast.”

Harry squealed, face burning with mortification, while the older boy clearly took immense pleasure in being the cause of such reactions.

Harry wanted to run, hide, and never show his face ever again.

How can Tom just- just say such things?!

With wide eyes and wildly beating heart, Harry took a few steps back, just to put some distance between himself and the very cunning slytherin, just so he could take a breath of fresh air, clear his head, but Riddle had other plans.

He, too, stood up, his gaze unwavering as he approached Harry.

“There’s no need to run from me, Harry. You know I’ll always find you. And I would never do anything against your will.”

Harry’s back hit the wall.

There was nowhere to run.

Tom seemed to have realized that as well, as a smug grin stretched across his face.

Wouldn’t be so smug if he kicked him in the shins, Harry thought, and narrowed his eyes.

Tom must’ve sensed the danger, because he froze momentarily and didn’t move any closer. After all, he was more than familiar with Harry’s violent tendencies and knew when to stop pushing, even if most times he did not.

Harry’s anger was divine, but there was time and place for it.

Right now, while he loved to see the boy so flustered, all for him, he didn’t want to push too hard, too fast. After all, this was new for both of them, and Harry could very well run off.

Tom can be merciful.

This once.

“Very well. Breakfast it is, darling.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. It wasn’t like Tom to give up so easily, or at all.

“You- you want to come with?”

“Might as well. I doubt anyone will notice my presence after yesterday. But I sure would love to witness the remnants of the chaos you caused, darling.”

“Hey! I didn’t cause anything!” Harry pouted.

“Oh, yes, I forgot. It’s the Potter luck that’s at fault. How remiss of me.”

Tom didn’t sound very sorry, so Harry unrepentantly sent a stinging hex.

“It is the Potter luck, or more like, a curse. How else would you explain everything that happens to me?”

“Dumbledore curse.”

Harry snorted. It sounded about right.

Everything bad happening in his life was because of Dumbledore and his meddling.

“How will you come with me?” Harry asked suddenly, nerves skyrocketing at Tom’s smirk.

That could mean nothing good.

It was a brilliant, ingenious sort of magic Harry never thought possible, but the word ‘never’ didn’t seem to exist in Tom Riddle’s dictionary.

He was downright gleeful when presenting Harry with the reality-bending mind magic spell. Illusion of sorts.

Done completely in parselmagic, something only the two of them could wield.

“To everyone else I will look like someone they’ve seen, but can never remember or pin down. Just add a strong repellent, and they won’t even care that I'm there.” Tom’s expression turned serious. “But this takes magic. Energy. Are you sure you are up for it? I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“Oh please, it’s not like you haven’t been leaching from ambient magic as well.” Tom’s eyes widened at Harry’s pointed look. “I can tell. And nobody’s stopping you from ‘’borrowing’’ some magic from other students, as long as you don’t kill them. That would definitely sickle Dumbledore on me.”

And neither of them wanted that.

They didn’t want to raise any alarms of Lord Voldemort returning. Not while Harry was so under the old coot’s thumb and would definitely be forced to fight against him.

But with his recent emancipation, things were looking less glum.

“I know what I’m doing, dear, and so do you. So, ready to depart?”

Harry nodded, even though he was nervous.

What if this goes wrong?

What if Dumbledore somehow-

“Relax, Harry.” Tom gently gripped his shoulder, grounding him. “I can disappear back into my journal at any time. You have your invisibility cloak. If worst comes to worst and he attacks - which is highly unlikely - you have your loyal slytherins there to protect you, and trust me, they will. It will be fine.”

Harry took in a shaky breath, knowing Tom was right, but he was still nervous.

This was a huge risk. Even if they prepared for it.

“Come on, darling. Let’s go shock the masses.” Tom held out his hand for Harry to take.

Harry did, pretending not to see Tom’s smug and triumphant smirk, as they made their way towards the Great Hall.

It seems that after last night's festivities, breakfast ran later than usual.

Most students only seemed to be coming down, which was perfect to mingle between other students and not be seen.

Harry heard Tom let out a small gasp as he took in the Great Hall in the morning light; it’s been decades since he’s seen it in all its glory.

“It’s still the same.”

Harry offered a soft smile, feeling the trickles of nostalgia through his and Tom’s bond.

“Come on. Let’s sit down, lest someone sees us.”

Harry and Tom made their way to the slytherin table, making sure to be as far away from the Head Table as possible, just in case.

Nobody batted an eye as they said down and piled their plates with food. Must be all the hangovers, even though students hid it well.

“Oh, Harry, how can you look so chipper so early in the morning?” Blaise moaned, holding his head. “You missed the follow-up party at Slytherin yesterday. Merlin gracious, I wish I did as well.”

“I didn’t know there was one.” Not that he would’ve gone; the Yule Ball was enough human interactions for one night.

“Draco didn’t tell you?” Harry shook his head. “Ah, he- he might’ve mentioned something happening, but I have no idea what.”

Harry smirked.

Draco must’ve forgotten to mention it after their squabble with Hagrid, and then Harry fucking off to haunt Karkaroff.

“Potter!” as if on cue, Draco appeared at the table, taking a seat in front of Harry. “Father tells me he sent you an invitation?”

Harry nodded, impressed at how well Draco was hiding his nervousness behind the haughty mask. 

“Good. Ah- well, are you- will you attend?”

“He’s been insufferable about it all morning.” Theo plopped into the seat next to Harry. “If you refuse to go, he might try to kidnap you. Fair warning.”

“Oh, I’d like to see you try.”

Everyone turned to look at the boy sitting next to Harry, as if surprised to see someone sitting there at all.

Harry watched carefully how all of their eyes glazed over with slight confusion. Like they were looking at something they couldn’t comprehend.

It worked.

“Who are you?” Theo was the first to speak, his eyes sharper than the others. Harry desperately hoped Theo wouldn’t be able to fight against their magic.

“This is my friend-” Harry hesitated at the name. 

“Marvolo,” Tom interjected pleasantly. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Have we seen you before?” Draco asked, eyes narrowed. He was trying very hard to concentrate on the newcomer and recall any sort of information about him, but it was like his brain couldn’t concentrate.

“Perhaps.”

It didn’t dissipate the confusion.

Thankfully, at that moment, owls flew in.

Harry was practically vibrating with excitement as he unfolded the Daily Prophet, giving Tom an excited grin. It was much like a child bringing their parent to the mess they’ve caused and saying proudly: look at what I’ve done.

Tom couldn’t have been more captured.

INTERNATIONAL INCIDENT

HOGWARTS STUDENT ATTACKS THE SON AND HEIR OF FRENCH MINISTER

My dear readers, I couldn’t believe my own ears after hearing what happened.

Yesterday, Hogwarts hosted a celebratory Yule Ball for all three schools that are competing in this year's international event, the Tri-Wizarding Tournament.

If you’ve been keeping up with the news, you know that four champions (more on pg 12) were the main attraction and started the Ball with the opening dance, where the incident had taken place.

Hogwarts champion Harry Potter and Beauxbatons student Pierre Beaumont-LaRue, had taken each other as a date in a show of unity and forming foreign relationships (or is there something more going on?), but their dance was rudely interrupted by a Gryffindor student, Ginevra Weasley.

The girl claimed to be Harry Potter’s date, which the champion vehemently denied, accusing the girl of stalking (after speaking with a few students, I’ve been told Miss Weasley had a tendency to call herself future Lady Potter and stalk the poor boy in the castle halls). At the peak of her rage, Miss Weasley turned her attention on the Beauxbatons student Pierre Beaumont-LaRue, and sent an unknown curse at the boy. This is where Hogwarts champion Harry Potter showed his prowess in magic, and conjured a wandless shield (what an incredible piece of magic, am I right?).

Thankfully, the professors intervened, but the damage was done; Lord Beaumont-LaRue, after hearing of the attack on his son, was furious and demanded retribution.

Unfortunately, I cannot tell you if this will lead to charges against Miss Weasley or if this would cause a rift between Magical Britain and France, but I will say this: why is nobody at our beloved Hogwarts taking care of the clear student harassment against the Boy-Who-Lived?

The esteemed headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, claimed it to be a small misunderstanding - something the wizard had been known to say after similar incidents, and refused to intervene.

In fact, the headmaster’s prejudice and inaction had been noted by not only Hogwarts students, but the guests as well.

The French Minister of Magical Games and Sports, Benoît Escoffier, had been appalled after the incident.

• Monsieur Dumbledore assured us it was a small misunderstanding, nothing to worry about, but after speaking with students it became clear that not only is this sort of behaviour ignored, but encouraged! After speaking with heir Potter - who is a delightful young wizard - it became abundantly clear that the poor boy is used to such appalling treatment from the girl. I cannot fathom how the headmaster of a school can be so apathetic towards his own students' safety. 

However, the horrors do not end here.

Unfortunately, I got to witness one more disturbing scene: Hogwarts gamekeeper and a professor, Rubeus Hagrid, ambushed the young Harry Potter whilst the boy was taking a stroll outside.

The clearly inebriated man tore into the boy for dropping his class, for not visiting or writing (which brings the question, why does the gamekeeper want young Mr Potter to visit him alone?). Moreover, the man dared to demand for heir Potter to apologize to his stalker, Miss Weasley.

I was appalled by such inappropriate behaviour of one of the Hogwarts professors (more about R. Hagrid’s career on page 21). Thankfully, heir Malfoy and heir Nott intervened on the young wizard’s behalf, and the altercation ended there.

I’m glad to see heir Potter having such loyal friends, but it does not diminish the hardships the young wizard must face: harassment not only from students, but professors as well.

My dear readers, it’s becoming more and more clear that we do not know what is happening at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, or if the school is even safe for our children.

Perhaps it’s time to take a closer look at what Albus Dumbledore had or had not been doing in our beloved school.

Rita Skeeter

Harry could barely contain his laughter.

“My dear, you’ve certainly been busy,” Tom muttered from aside, also amused. “Miss Skeeter is clearly asking for war on Dumbledore and his teachings.” His expression soured. “Hopefully, your stalkers will no longer be an issue.”

“He won’t be able to brush it under the rug either. This has attracted international attention,” Theo added his two knuts. “I believe we might see some changes here soon.”

“About time,” Draco piped up from his own paper. “Perhaps we can get that oaf sacked too. My father tried, of course, but Dumbledore insisted on Hagrid being the only one available to teach.”

Harry grimaced, thinking about all the shit he had to endure while pretending to be the good, perfect gryffindor. 

He still wasn’t sorry about saving Buckbeak though - Draco shouldn’t have been such a little shit.

“Well, if everyone’s reactions are anything to go by, this will end up in an investigation. Just look at the Head Table.”

Harry squinted, unable to see clearly that far, but the sour expressions on the professor's faces told him enough - shit was about to go down.

McGonagall looked especially sour - Harry will be surprised if she doesn’t get reprimanded for her inaction.

All of a sudden, Draco choked and started coughing.

“What’s up with you?” Harry asked, because he’s yet to see Draco so flustered.

Slytherins were big on keeping their masks in place, after all.

“Turn the page.”

Harry frowned, but Theo started chuckling behind the paper, even if he tried to hide it. It was unsuccessful, seeing as the whole paper was shaking along with him.

Harry frowned, confused at their reaction, reaching for the paper which was now in Tom’s hands.

He was even more confused at Tom’s stone-cold expression and hidden fury behind his eyes. Tom was gripping the paper so hard that it tore.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, leaning over to see what it was about, and he wished he didn’t.

Harry Potter and a possible love triangle?

It’s come to my attention that our dear Hogwarts Champion is not only remarkable at tackling dragons and being top of his year, but also has quite a few admirers.

According to other students, heir Potter had been seen interacting closely with one Draco Malfoy (more on the Malfoy family on pg 11). It’s been said that the boys are together more times than not, and have been noted visiting Hogsmead together.

I, myself, had the pleasure of interacting with heir Malfoy on a few occasions, where he’d come to heir Potter’s aid, especially after the first task, where Headmaster Dumbledore verbally attacked heir Potter (more about it on pg 12).

Same could be said about Beauxbatons student, Pierre Beaumont-LaRue, who was heir Potter’s date at the Yule Ball, and, if the rumours are correct, have been seen spending a lot of time with our beloved saviour.

So, is it true, then? Romane is brewing at Hogwarts? Is Harry Potter stuck between two charming heirs? 

I’ll let you decide.

Rita Skeeter

Then there were pictures.

Of Harry and Draco after the first task. Of Harry and Pierre, and then Draco, dancing yesterday.

“I’m going to murder Rita Skeeter,” Harry declared. That woman will suffer.

How did the curse he placed on her didn’t stop her from writing all this?

It should’ve- well, unless… Harry frowned. 

Oh, Skeeter was cunning.

There was nothing negative about Harry in the article. Nothing that could be perceived as lies.

It was a simple speculation. Portraying him like an idiot stuck between Draco and Pierre, with stars in his eyes for both.

Oh Merlin.

This was mortifying.

“Something you forgot to tell me, Harry dear?” Tom’s voice pierced through Harry’s windwhirl of emotions, and he was met with the barely contained rage of a teenage Dark Lord.

Oh Merlin, Tom was jealous.

He thought that Harry… what? Was also kissing the other two boys? It was absurd. Why would he? Draco and Pierre were only his… friends, and even the idea of them feeling something for Harry was absurd.

But looking at the pictures, of all of them, smiling and happy… it was obvious how one could make such assumptions. Especially someone like Rita Skeeter.

“Don’t be an idiot, To- Marvolo, it’s clearly something Skeeter came up with to get more revenue. Nothing happened, ever. We just danced. You know this.”

Tom scrutinised him for a moment that felt like an eternity, before nodding, seeing the truth in Harry's eyes.

He leaned forward, mouth next to Harry’s ear, and whispered: “Good, otherwise I would’ve disembowelled them right in front of everyone, Harry. You should know that I do not share.”

For some reason, this made Harry feel really, really hot.

He nodded, gulping, hoping that nobody saw his reaction. The article was mortifying enough.

Tom seemed to be pleased with his reaction, though.

Smug bastard.

“Will your father hear about this too, Draco?” Blaise teased, chuckling at his friend's mortified face. 

“Shut up, Blaise. I know where you sleep,” Draco said through clenched teeth. He looked flustered.

“I kind of wish I was there to see it,” Theo couldn’t stop his smirk either. Oh, to be a bug on Lord Malfoy’s wall as he reads an article about his own son. “Will you still be attending the Malfoy Yule Ball after this, Harry?”

“Of course he is,” Draco snapped, but then froze. He looked at the boy in question hesitatingly, casing out his reaction. “You are… aren’t you?”

Oh, Draco was insecure, Harry could tell. 

He offered a smile. “Of course I will, Dray. Who else would terrorise your guests if not me?”

Draco groaned.

“My father will kill me.”

“He will not, you’re his only heir,” Harry smirked. There was no way in hell Lucius would dare to do anything with him there, and he was not missing an opportunity to terrorise him. Last time was entertaining, but Harry wanted more.

And who better than his- ah, who were they, really? He and Tom?

Boyfri- no. Nope. Not going there yet. Too soon. Partners? Yes. Acceptable.

Who better to terrorise than his partner’s followers, who have no idea what’s going on?

It was perfect, and new, and exciting.

Tom must’ve sensed his elation, because he, too, chuckled.

“Don’t terrorise them too much, dear. I’m in need of their sanity.”

“Of course not. Just a little, though.”

Tom snorted. He didn’t believe that for a second.

Harry was out to get under Lucius’ skin ever since the man had slighted him in his second year.

Of course, Harry slighted the man first, and it was due to his idiocy that Tom ended up in Harry’s hands, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was, Harry needed to be entertained, and a room full of Death Eaters should do it.

And if his future followers can’t handle a half-sane fourteen year old, well… Tom has no use for them in the future.

“Um… who are you, again?” Theo asked, looking at Tom with unmasked suspicion. He clearly had been listening to their conversation, and was confused.

“Leave him be, Theo,” Harry snapped, and the boy instantly recoiled, turning his attention back to the Daily Prophet. Theo knew better than to annoy Harry so early.

Harry turned to Draco. “How are we getting out of Hogwarts?”

“Flooing from Sev’s office. Obviously.”

Harry groaned.

Just great.

Flooing. He hated the floo. Whoever created it should burn in hell for all eternity.

There wasn’t one single instance where he ended up on his feet, or hell, where he was supposed to be. For some reason, magical travel didn’t agree with him, and Harry absolutely hated it, avoiding it if he could.

“You’ll be fine,” Tom muttered, even though Harry could very well see the mirth in his eyes. That bastard knew very well how Harry and floo interacted. He’s complained enough.

“Is there a problem with flooing?” Draco was confused, as were the others.

“Oh, only that Harry and the fireplaces aren’t meant to be,” Tom sing-sang, smugly. “You’ll see what I mean late- ouch! What the hell, Harry?!”

“You deserved it,” Harry spat, unremorsefully, after hitting Tom near the place it hurt the most. “Anything else, Draco?” he asked sweetly, as if nothing happened.

“Ah- no, not really. Just that you should have the invitation on your person, or you’ll end up spit out by the wards Merlin knows where. It’s the only thing allowing you a safe passage through the wards.”

“Good to know.” Good thing he didn’t torch the invitation, like he was tempted to.

“And don’t be late, or Sev will get pissy.” Harry looked at Draco questioningly. The boy sighed. “He’s also invited. Not sure if he’ll come with, but most likely yes, since he’s supposed to escort us. Merlin forbid he’s late; I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Harry could see it. Snape was the most punctual person he’s ever met. He abhors anyone who is late, docking points for coming in even seconds after the bell.

Festivities didn’t seem to be an exception.

“Is that your owl?” Theo nudged him, and indeed - Hedwig was flying towards him.

Harry hadn’t seen her in months, taking to borrowing owls from his new friends in Hedwig’s suspicious absence, and the owl didn’t stick around once she dropped a letter on his plate.

Weird.

“I think it’s from your dogfather,” Tom muttered.

Harry inspected the letter more closely, and indeed, Tom was right.

“Let’s go see what he wants.” Harry and Tom stood up from the table. “I’ll find you guys later,” Harry said to the confused slytherins. “Be sure to watch the Head Table. Dumbledore looks murderous.”

Their heads snapped to the headmaster, who, indeed, looked to be barely containing his rage, especially as quite a few official looking owls were flying towards him.

Harry was certain at least one of them was carrying a howler, however, he didn’t stick around to find out, taking the moment of distraction to slip away.

“What does he want?” Tom asked, pacing the Room of Requirement.

“It’s very short,” Harry muttered, unfolding the letter. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“He read the articles. He’s begging me to see a mind healer if I like Draco Malfoy, and is telling me to stay away from slytherins.”

“Typical,” Tom snorted. “Is that all?”

“No.” Harry frowned. “He’s been speaking to Dumbledore, who told him I’ve been going dark, or whatever. He’s currently in London, but wishes to meet me during the next Hogsmead meeting, or whenever I can slip away.”

“How brave of him. You sure it isn’t a trap of Dumbledore’s design?”

Harry shrugged. “Might be. We’ll see when we get there.”

“You’re going?”

“Of course. He’s my godfather and a Black. I want to visit their library.”

Tom scoffed. Of course there was another motive. Although, he couldn’t fault Harry for wanting to see the Black’s library. It was rumoured to have books on even necromancy.

Even he wasn’t allowed entry while visiting Orion. Such a shame.

“What if it’s a trap?”

“Please, Dumbledore must’ve told him to talk some sense into me. And I’m not an idiot, or gullible, Tom. I can handle it.”

“If you say so, dear.”

Harry glared, only to receive a smirk in return.

“We should go back to retrieve the invitation, heir Potter, lest your admirers finds us.”

“Oh my god, Rita Skeeter will receive a very nasty curse in her mail.” Harry groaned. “Where did she pull the whole love-triangle crap? It was a Ball! Everyone was dancing!”

Tom looked at Harry with clear pity in his eyes. Was the boy blind to the way Malfoy heir regarded him? How jealous he was at the closeness between him and Tom? Even the mention of Pierre had him bristling. It was evident Malfoy harboured a crush for his Harry.

Truly, for being so brilliant, Harry could be so bloody oblivious.

But Tom shouldn’t be surprised. Harry was blind to his own advances up until Tom kissed him.

Even then, he was shocked.

But if it helps to keep Harry’s… admirers at bay… Who is Tom to complain?

Better not to look a gifted horse in the mouth, and after all, Harry agreed to a relationship with him, which was still something he couldn’t comprehend. It was too good to be true.

Hopefully, once Tom acquires a true, permanent body, Harry will agree to courtship.

There was absolutely no way he’s letting someone as remarkable as Harry go. Hell, there was never even a thought in Tom’s mind that he'd be interested in another person, finding everyone so dull and intolerable, but Harry… he was different. Harry was his equal.

He’d be a fool to let the boy go.

And if not for his own infatuation with Harry, then for the warning the Lovegood child delivered to him.

‘-you think?”

“Huh?”

Harry pursed his lips. “You weren’t even listening, were you? Scheming again?”

Tom no longer needed an excuse, and offered a dazzling smile: “Oh, no, darling, just thinking about you. So distracting sometimes.”

Harry blushed pretty red, just like the last time.

The boy was so easily flustered, it was adorable.

“Stop it! We need to scheme.”

“Oh, please, all we do is scheme and plot. Wouldn’t you rather have some fun?”

Harry spluttered. Clearly, the poor boy wasn’t ready for Tom’s intense advances.

“The Malfoy Yule Ball is today, Tom. I don’t know about you, but I’ll be surrounded by your murderous followers, and I think we should take advantage of that.”

“For what?”

“For fixing Voldemort and getting you a body. Sound familiar?”

“You are not approaching that insane and unstable husk of a man!” Tom shouted, his whole composure going out of the window. “He’s dangerous. He could flip out for any reason. I will not risk your safety for one of your insane ideas, Harry.”

Harry was oddly touched by Tom’s protective streak. He knew the boy was right, but also-

“You know me participating in this tournament is because of one of his schemes, Tom. I’m involved either way, whether we want to, or not, but we could get ahead of things and take control of the situation.”

Tom calmed down momentarily, but didn’t give up. “You cannot approach his followers about this. It takes one of them grabbing you and apparating, presenting you as a sacrifice to the Dark Lord.”

“I’m well aware, this is why I say we approach Lucius first.”

“What?”

“Think about it. He knows I’m in possession of your diary-”

“Journal.”

“-he knows I’m dark. Is aware I’m against Dumbledore. He should be able to help, or at the very least, divulge some information about what we need to know. It doesn’t take a genius to find out he participated in that debaccable during the Cup. He’s already involved.”

“Or he’ll tell his Master about it and we’re done.” Tom was under no illusion that his older counterpart would allow him to roam free. He’d be forced back into his journal, probably obliviated too. For the rest of eternity.

He couldn’t take that chance.

“Oh, please, I’m not an idiot, Tom, and can protect myself. Perhaps I’ll take you with me; he wouldn’t dare disobey your orders. Especially after knowing he’s the reason I’m in possession of your diary - something he personally lost and something Voldemort would flay him alive for.”

“He’ll be desperate to get it back,” Tom nodded. Perhaps it was better to get this over with and bring Lucius to their side completely; it would be much safer for Harry, too. A desperate man is the unpredictable one, after all.

“Of course he will. How would you like… visiting the Malfoy Manor, then? Show Lucius a glimpse of what getting you back means?”

Tom couldn’t help but feel excited at the prospect.

Yes, it was dangerous and downright suicidal, but… well, it’s not like they can kill him. And it would be fun, because Merlin help him, he’s been bored. Even with all the ridiculous things he and Harry get into, he can’t do what he wants. He’s still contained.

“Alright, let’s do it.”

Harry smiled triumphantly at him.

Tom grinned as well. “Are we sealing this deal with a kiss?”

Really, making Harry blush was becoming one of his favourite past times.

Albus Dumbledore was pacing his study.

He had no idea how things got so out of hand.

It was all Potter’s fault, clearly. If not for that wretched boy, none of this would’ve happened.

He’s been receiving howlers ever since that damned Rita Skeeter published the article. He had to set up a ward against them; it was becoming insufferable.

Not only he, the great Albus Dumbledore, was being accused of harassment, but of negligence against students.

They should be thanking him on their knees for all that he’s done, trying to rid the world of Dark magic, but no, they couldn’t see that.

So what if he did nothing while Potter was being harassed? It would shape his character. It was for the Greater Good.

They’d see he was right once Voldemort rises and will turn to him for help. He will be hailed as a hero once more, and then no one would dare to question him again.

However, now…

He had angry parents to answer to, Ministry officials to talk to.

Board of Governors to calm down.

He prayed to Merlin that the French wouldn’t press charges against the Weasleys; it would completely ruin his plans. And he didn’t fancy listening to any more of Molly’s howlers about her precious daughter.

The girl was a fool to attack them so publicly.

Her destiny was completely out of his hands. He’ll do his best, of course, but with so many witnesses, there wasn’t much he could do.

Potter, on the other hand… the boy will regret it once the school lets out. He’ll pay Dursleys himself to be extra hard on the teen, so he could learn his place once and for all. Two months, cut off from the world will teach the brat a lesson.

If not for so many eyes at Hogwarts, he’d do something himself, but Potter was never alone - always surrounded by slytherins. They were clearly influencing the boy, and not in the way he liked.

Perhaps Black will speak some sense into Potter - the man hated everything related to slytherin, and Harry, seeking his godfather’s approval, will listen.

But until then… Albus sighed, looking at the pile on his desk. He has work to do, and most likely, a new Care of Magical Creatures teacher to find.

One thing was sure though: he will flay Rita Skeeter alive.

Voldemort was cackling.

Dumbledore was under investigation due to the Potter boy.

He had no idea what was going on, but it was most entertaining to hear about the misfortune the Golden Boy has brought on the bane of his existence, Albus Dumbledore.

It was unbelievable, what was happening.

If not for Barty, he would not have believed it at all, but his follower was loyal.

He would not lie about such things.

And oh, the things Barty had shared with him! It made Voldemort’s mind confused and muddled. Things didn’t add up.

Barty swore that Potter brat was not only not Dumbledore’s loyal dog, but was dark.

It was absurd. The boy Voldemort remembered from his first year of schooling, would never turn dark; he was sickeningly light. He could still remember how vehemently the brat refused him. How much he defended Dumbledore.

But as the year progressed, Barty’s reports stayed the same.

Potter suddenly became the top of every class.

Potter is befriending slytherins and sitting at the Slytherin table.

Potter deliberately gets former Gryffindor friends in trouble.

Potter is sneaking around.

Potter publicly slighted Dumblefore.

Potter shows magical prowess beyond his years.

I caught Potter talking to a snake.

That one caught Voldemort by surprise - he was certain he killed all of his relatives, but who knows? Perhaps Potters were distant relatives and the parseltongue trait emerged in the Potter brat. What he’s done during the first task left him even more curious. It was unheard of, impossible to believe, and yet, the proof was all there.

In fact, Voldemort was begrudgingly impressed how Potter revealed his status of being a parselmouth so publicly: even during his own school years, only his Knights were privy to such information. He was afraid of backlash back then and had a reputation to keep. Potter, apparently, had no such qualms. He went all out.

Voldemort had no idea what Dumbledore had done to earn the Golden Boy’s ire, but he wasn’t one to complain; it was much more satisfying watching the old man be destroyed by his own puppet. 

But as amusing as it was, Potter will still die by his hand at the end of the year. It was inevitable. 

But Lord Voldemort could be merciful - if Potter continues on his path on destroying the old coot’s reputation, he might offer the brat a painless death.

Severus Snape couldn’t believe what his life had come to.

Escorting Draco and Potter to the bloody Malfoy Yule Ball.

He was already irate from all the bloody bickering he received from Minerva, after letting her know he’s taking the Potter there at all.

She was against it, of course, quoting that Malfoy’s were a Dark family and it wouldn’t be safe for Potter, but Severus shut it down immediately. One, he was attending as well, and two, Potter was emancipated, something she seemed a bit too eager to forget. They couldn’t stop the boy if they wanted to. He didn’t need permission to leave the school, only to inform one of the Heads of the Houses. Especially during holidays.

And further on, he was the heir to the Potter family; all the heirs and heiresses were allowed to leave to attend to their perceived duties. It’s been this way for as long as Hogwarts has been standing.

It was a disaster waiting to happen if it got out, too; Severus could already see an article saying ‘Heir Potter is being illegally kept locked at Hogwarts against his will’. It would be disastrous, even if entertaining.

Although Severus could see where Minerva was coming from. For being intelligent, Potter was also a complete idiot; voluntarily venturing into an enclosed space, full of bloodthirsty Death Eaters, out for his blood.

Perhaps not so much in recent days, but still, it was a high risk.

Why take it?

Severus smelled a scheme.

But on the other hand… seeing how the boy handled Igor with such ease and blatant cruelty, perhaps Severus was worrying over the wrong individuals. Perhaps, he should protect people from Potter.

Merlin knows what he’d do to someone that actually attacked him.

Kill them, most likely.

Was Lily’s child capable of murder?

If you’d asked him a few months ago, Severus would’ve laughed at such an absurd idea, but knowing what he knew now, it didn’t sound too far off the mark.

What happened to make the boy this way? Or was he always like this, only forced to hide his true nature?

Quite frankly, Severus was afraid to find out.

The knocking on his door was a blessing in disguise.

Severus straightened out his robes.

He has a Ball to attend to and a tragedy to prevent.