Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter one: prologue

The First of September. Today was meant to be the day that my sister and I started Stonewall high, a local secondary state school. We were meant to go to a second rate school in Dudley's old grey dyed clothes where we undoubtedly would of been bullied even more then when we went to school with Dudley. Instead we were crossing a giant lake. With a giant squid in it. In a small four seater boat. That is pushing itself.

I can feel the energy pulsing and swirling within the wood of the dingy little boats, probably the only thing that is keeping us from sinking. The thought itself was amazing and frightening. How you ask? Magic. Because my sister and I have recently learned we are magical.

Orphaned at a young age and put of the door step of our relatives, the Dursleys, Rose and I had no clue about this other world. a world were magic was real and anything seemed possible. We grew up believing our parents were penniless drunks that died in a car crash. That they died and left us with these people.

This was not the case.

Instead Lily and James Potter were a witch and wizard themselves, belonging to a magical society hidden from "muggles". They died when a dark wizard broke into our home and murdered them. The dark wizard would of murdered us too if not for a special cloak that our father owned that covered us. They said how Lily had put us in the closet and covered us with the cloak, making us invisible to our parents murderer. Apparently we were found when a friend of the family came over and heard us and knowing about the cloak, was able to find us. Remus Lupin. It was the ministry that shipped us off to our only remaining family members.

Now we stand at the door step of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a school designed for kids like my sister and I. I recognise the tall elderly women with half moon spectacles approaches us and sends Hagrid on his way. She in introduces herself as Mrs Mcgonagall and explains the four houses, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin and how they will be our new family while we are here.

As we walk in I look up and a audible gasp escapes me upon seeing no roof, just a open starry sky. Isn't that unsafe? What if it rained? I though to myself. I look around to see the wide eyed wonder of fellow students and my sister as they also stare up at the sky. I hear behind me a girl explain how it's enchant too look that way, and how she had read all about it along with other interesting things about Hogwarts.

Her tone was patronising and she seemed a bit bossy. I recognise her voice from the train.

Hermione Granger, a bushy haired muggle born with a obsessive compulsion to know every fact. We sat in the same carriage together and discussed what houses we would want to be in. Actually, she just told us everything about the houses that she new off the top of her head, which was a lot, then asked us what house we wanted to be in. I had no preference but Rose stated Gryffindor sounded like the best house and "who would want to be in Slytherin".
Hermione has said she would like Gryffindor, but that Ravenclaw would be ok too. I has said how if she wanted to be surrounded by book loving people such as herself, Ravenclaw would be best for her. We talked about the merits of each house and what we think living in each one would be like. By the end the bushy haired girl had changed her mind and was considering Ravenclaw as the best option.

We were herded to the head dining table and crowded around the bottom step leading to it. A stool was placed on the elevated section at the front of the school with a old pointed wizard like hat on siting on top. It was a simple hat that resembled more a pile of fabric with patches here and there then any type of head piece.

A hush descends upon the school before a tear in the brim opened up and the hat began to sing.

Singing hats, what doesn't this place have.

Professor Mcgonagall began calling out names in alphabetical order, placing the hat on their heads, starting with Hanna Abbot. After it's placed the hat calls out one of the four houses, some taking longer to sort then others. Hermione Granger taking just about a minute before the hat cried Ravenclaw but barley touched the head of Draco Malfoy before yelling Slytherin.

Soon my name is called and I walk to the stool as steady as I can, not used to so much attention on me. As the hat is placed on my head it covers my eyes and shields me from the stares of the rest of the school, which I'm thankful for.

'Well what do we have here, let's see...' The old relic spoke, his gravely but upper class british voice sounding through my head.

'Are you in my head!?'

'Indeed I am, now shush, I'm trying to sort you.'

I start to wonder what kind of magic could animate a hat when he speaks up again.

'Your intelligent, very open minded too, you would do well in Ravenclaw. oh, but such loyalty, you like FairPlay, Hufflepuff would welcome you. Hmm, or how about Gryffindor, brave and chivalrous you are indeed. Or better yet, Slytherin, cunning and ambition to succeed, you would be right at home there. But were to put you...' '

'Can you hurry up a bit? just stick me in one already'

'Hurry up! The house you are sorted into could effect your entire future! The sorting is a matter of great impoten-'

'Yes yes, great noble importance, but can you speed it up a bit? It's not like you have to tell me every thought that changes your mind' I roll my eyes at the hat, starting to get irritated but still immensely thankful I can't see the stares of the rest of the school and the can't see me because of its brim.

'Well aren't you a cheeky little bugger. I'll have you know that I speak out loud for your benefit! I like to give students the opportunity to say no if they can be placed in more than one house! I could sort any of you buggers in a second! Is all for your benefit!'

'Well, if you were really in my head, then you would know I don't have a preference, so sort me already, it can't be that hard if your doing it!'

'Fine! Well, Rowen would of loved to have you!... but then again so would the rest-'

'You're doing it again'

'Grrr, fine! alright then! how about I let you choose! what house do you want to go in!?'

'Aren't you meant to sort me? Isn't that your job, or are you going senile?'

'Yes it is my job! No I'm not going senile but not every bloody student posses the qualities of the four bloody houses!'

'Swearing at 11 year olds? Can't see how that professional'

'Stop sassing me boy and just choose! Or at least help me narrow down your options!'

'So I can choose?'

'YES!'

'Then somewhere were I won't be noticed so much'

'I think you'll be noticed wherever you go little bugger you are'

'Then the one I will be noticed least, I don't fancy attention'

'Could'a fooled m-'

'Sort'

'FINE! Ok! Very well then. So not Slytherin, they notice everything, not Ravenclaw, to curious-'

'Do you ever stop talking?'

'-not to mention your intelligence will stand out, not Hufflepuff, too friendly, so that leaves-'

"Gryffindor!" The Hat cried, the red and gold table burst into applause. Standing up I made my way over to the rambunctious table, hoping I had made the right choice, maybe should I have picked my own now that I see the house of lions myself.

"Potter, Rose!" Deputy-Headmistress Mcgonagall called. The Auburn head girl made her way up the steps, confidence oozing from her. That was my sister, trying her best to be noticed, to stand out like she always had. I don't understand how twins could be such polar opposites. If I didn't know any better, I would think one of us had been switched at birth.

it took about a minute before the hat cried out Gryffindor. As soon as she sat down Rose engaged another member of our new house in mindless chatter, asking a few questions every now and again. I remained silent from across her, paying attention to the rest of the proceedings and who was sorted into which house. I thought it best to know the names of people, not just your immediate friends and acquaintances. This had helped me not to get my head kicked in before.

As the last name was called, a Ronald Weasley sorted in Gryffindor, the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, stood up. Saying a few words then waving his arm, the tables filled food. It was more food than I had seen in my life and even had to take a few seconds to compose myself. I really didn't want to look like pig and scarf down everything in sight after all, unlike Weasley who didn't seem to mind. I would like to make a good impression on my house mates. My twin must of also have had the same idea, waiting for a few seconds before gingerly picking up some food and piling it onto her plate. The one thing our aunt had taught us was manners.

After eating everyone was led to their common rooms, the Gryffindor one being behind a portrait of a very large lady in pink dubbed "the fat lady". It also talked, but I had stopped being surprised after the singing hat. I thought the name was a bit crude and very rude, but she didn't seem to mind, even tried to break a glass by singing opera to us, Which she failed at, but A for effort! The prefect, a red headed Fifth year -that I think may be related to Weasley- directed us to our dorms, girls on the left and boys on the right. I was the first to get to the room, taking in the circular shape and the five beds draped in red, I head to the one by the window, the one with my name on it.

I had never had a view before, and the grounds of Hogwarts, even at night, were breathtaking. Spread out before me, too dark to get a clear idea of but light enough to make out silhouettes, were a great expanse of green lawns. The lake we had passed over was beautiful, shimmering in the moonlight and I could see the forbidden forest, expanding all the way to the mountains in the distance. The lights from windows that dotted what I could see of the castle added to the effect, giving the impression of hundreds of fireflies lining the outer walls. The stars were more amazing than I had ever seen them back at Surrey, more numerous and brighter than I could of imagined.

Turning around I was startled to see that my dorm mates had arrived, without me noticing, and were getting ready for bed. To the left of my bed was a sort of pudgy boy, Neville Longbottom, then there was Seamus Finnigan followed by Dean Thomas and to my right Ronald Weasley. Following their example I too got ready for bed, opening up my trunk and fetching the pajamas from the bottom. After getting dressed -we have two bathrooms!- I climb into bed, relaxing into the heavenly cloud they call a mattress.

Hogwarts was fantastic, from the grounds to the feel of magic just thrumming through it, like it was a living thing with a heart beat of its own. It was the first place I had felt like I could be free in a very long time. Rose looked happy here, and I had been hopeful about the place ever since those letters came a week before our eleventh birthday.

I had been asked to fetch the mail, and when I saw those two letters, even though I didn't get enough time to read them, I knew things were changing. The Dursleys tried to stop us from reading our letters, ripping them or burning them as soon as they came through the slot. This greatly displeased (understatement) professor Mcgonagall when she showed up, explaining about Rose and I being a witch and wizard.

It had explained a lot, why the Dursleys called us "freaks" and especially how I had been able to make strange things happen during my childhood. Ever since I remember I had been able to do things deemed impossible, or at the least, very unlikely. I could move things, people, change the colour of my teachers hair, even talk to animals. I would will it and it would happen. I was the only thing that had protected us in our childhood from hurtful blows, verbal and physical.

I had been over the moon when Rose started displaying these things by accident when we were 7. Aunt Petunia had given Rose a short, boyish haircut and after crying herself to sleep about it, woke up in the morning with her back to the preferred shoulder length. Little things like that had tipped me off that we weren't normal.

The strange thing, something I could never work out, was why Rose could never do thing on purpose. I had never done things by accident from as long as I could remember, they were always on purpose, from disappearing and reappearing to changing a nasty teachers hair pink. All with intent.

Rose, on the other hand, only did things when she was upset, and even then it wasn't guarantied that something would happen. I dismissed it as nothing too out of the ordinary for magical children. Loads of magical children could probably do that, I didn't want to be special, I would leave that to my twin, the social butterfly she is. She didn't get bullied or hit as much as me, but apart of that was because I put the blame on me when she would make a mistake. She was my sister and it was my job to protect her. Through everything. She also didn't get bullied as much because because she could act normal, she could be charming and pretty, make anyone like her.

I, on the other hand, didn't waste my time on mean spirited children. I didn't smile, I didn't try to make friends, I kept to myself and learnt what I could, keeping my sister out of trouble if necessary. The kids hated me, they liked her. The teachers liked me, they loved her. It was the way of things, and even though she wasn't too academically gifted, she new how to charm others. I did the work for the two of us, and she did her best to keep people off my back.

She couldn't stop Dudley though, that was futile. While Dudley didn't hit her often, he would do his best to get her into trouble. That's when I would step up and say I did it. I had been doing that for as long as I could remember, protecting her when I could. She was my twin, I would do anything for her. Hogwarts though, seemed like paradise, lots of food, comfortable beds and magic. It was safe, somewhere we could be ourselves, to not hide. Things were perfect for us, I could only hope it would stay this way.

Chapter Text

Nothing stays perfect for long and reality wakes everyone up sooner or later. The reality of The magical world shattered the paradise fantasy that was Hogwarts. Children were cruel, and gossiping and judgmental anywhere you go, magic doesn't change that.
It was a week before I noticed the rivalry between the houses, a week for I noticed that everyone was basically a sheep, following the status quo. A week before I woke up.

It was Ron Weasley, loudly talking about how evil Slytherins are that first caught my attention. When I asked why they were evil, he looked at me like I was stupid, then stated that they all were all dark supporters and every dark lord had come from Slytherin. This was rubbish, it had to be, or someone would of gotten rid of the house. or gotten rid of children placed there.

Draco Malfoy didn't help the House of Snakes reputation though. he was bigoted, entitled and insulted others based on their family, like every bully I had ever met. hiw most common phrase seemed to be "wait until my father hears about this". his father must be deaf by now.

Malfoy and Weasley were always at each other's throats, throwing curses and childish insults. Worse yet, people just fell into line with these two idiots, like mindless sheep they chose their side. For a Gryffindor to even speak to a snake was social suicide, being interrogated first and unless they were pulling a prank -something my house seemed rather fond of- they were socially exiled. I gather it was similar for slytherin too, minus the pranking.

Me? I keep of of it, rarely speaking to members of my house that i'm not close too, and Slytherins disliking me on principle of being a Lion. If I see them fighting, on equal grounds, I ignore it and walk away, it's not my business. The few times i've come across one side, outnumbering and picking on The other sides member, I put a stop to it. Tickling charms do come in handy. Best part is, no one seems to know that I exist, let alone care about me hexing fighting students, so they don't even harass me for it. its my personal form of armour.

In recent years, from what i've seen the only person -besides me, but i stay out of it more then anything- that has gone against it, ironically, is Tom Riddle, prince of Slytherin himself.
Friendly to the Lions, with school work and social interactions, In a way that they just can't help being friendly right back without looking like fools. Good looking -often described as gorgeous- intelligent -top of the school- and charming, he has everyone wrapped around his finger. Everyone seems to think he's was the best thing since the discovery of the cocoa bean.

I don't trust him. Not for any personal reason, we had never even exchanged greetings, but he just Always seemed...off? Too intense? Anyway, there was something about the guy I just didn't like.
He draws people in like moth to a flame, everyone wanting to get a slice of his attention. It's terrifying how even people that used to hate him become some of his biggest fans. While he's not mean to anyone on the outside, he seems to keep ordinary people at arms length, giving scraps of his favour to keep them in his thrall. The special ones a little closer, ones who are especially intelligent or are from prominent pure blood family's. Then you have his inner circle, the brightest, the richest, them most powerful, all in Slytherin and followIng him just about everywhere.
There are people that don't like him of course. there are ones who avoid him for their own reasons (like me), and the majority who were simply jealous of him, one such case is Ron Weasley.
Having had at least one conversation with every student, Almost every girl -some guys too- wanted him and the rest wanted to be him.

Except me, that is, but to tell you the truth, I seem to be an exception to a lot of rules.

Charismatic and powerful, he is the king of the school and no one goes against him. Everyone that has ever tried to rise above him has only ended up becoming a loyal follower. That itself sent chills down my spine.
He's also in the Fifth year with me, which is kind of sad when you think about how everyone is awed by a fifteen year old .

Outside of the school though, the world isn't any better than the inside. A year ago, the Dark Lord Grindelwald finally made his move and has declared war. Apparently it had been brewing for a long time but it was the attack on France that drove everyone over the edge. The muggles don't have a clue of what's going on, but they know something's up, their not as stupid as wizard think they are.
Grindelwald to me seems like another Hitler, leading a crusade on blood purity and killing all the "undesirables"; muggles, muggle-borns and half-bloods, even part magical creatures. Like Hitler, I believe he's not going to win.

Everyone expects headmaster Albus Dumbledore, just over a hundred years old -which is middle aged apparently- to put an end to him. They keep saying how powerful Dumbledore is and how he's the only one Grindelwald fears. I think their spineless sheep that have to rely on others to save them.

It was a week before I started to see all of this, but it was a week of bliss.

Another sad thing, something that breaks my heart every time I look at her, my own twin sister, kind, intelligent, brave sister, has bought into all of this. it wasn't long before coming here that she became one of the sheep.
After coming to Hogwarts, Rose flourished, fitting right in with the lions, but as she became popular our relationship became strained. I admit, some of it was my fault, I was suffocating her under my own protective instincts, scared that she would be hurt. She pushed me away, gained friends and statis, until we barely speak anymore.
Now and then she asks me for favours, and I still look out for her, just not directly. Princess of Gryffindor, one of the most popular girls in the school, she has everything she wanted, she doesn't need her brother like she used to.

Pretty and charming, Rose knows how to have a good time and stay on the teacher's good side. While not anywhere near Riddles league, Rose has crafted the perfect image for a social butterfly such as her. She's fallen in line with the status quo, believes everything the media say, be's what others expect. if we didn't share the last name, no one would know that we were related, Being different in looks, personality, and social status.

Today, a month into our fifth year, was one of those days she asked for a favour.

"Hay Harry, can I talk to you?" She asked me outside the great hall after lunch. Before I could say anything she tugged me out of site and in the direction of Her next class, History of Magic.

"So, I'm going to be breaking up with Cormac tonight-" thank god for that, I think to myself, the guys an idiot, "-and I don't want to cause a scene in the common room, so I want to tell him outside Gryffindor tower, probably after curfew and I need a look out in case someone comes along. Are you interested?" She asks, stopping to look at me. What I wanted to do was tell her how stupid that was, going through all the trouble just to avoid a "scene", because it had potential to damage her image. I would try to talk her out of it, but this was my sister, we share a stubbornness and she's done stupider things. like prancing off into the forbidden forest because of a dare.

"Ok, I'm in, but why now? He's always been stupid, what did he do to make you want to break up with him?" Normally her relationships last at least two months, so he must of pissed her off to get dropped so quickly after only 2 weeks.

She lets out a dejected sighs before she replies, " I thought he was going to make the Quidditch team, but because he was dared to eat doxy eggs, he missed out on the trials, and I'm not dating some doxy eating loser, it's embarrassing". Her face scrunched up in disgust, probably from letting a guy embarrass her more than him actually eating Doxy eggs.

This is now my sister, I sigh to myself, willing to date people to climb the social ladder.

It's a free period for me so after being told when and where to meet her we split up, she going to History of Magic and I going to the library.

Walking into the silent library I spot Luna, reading a dusty tomb.
"Hey Lu, how's it going?" I greet, smiling as I slide into the seat across from her. I met Luna Lovegood mid way through my second year, her first, when she was wandering the halls without any shoes. She said that nargles had stolen and hidden them and I had offered to help, even gave her my socks so her feet wouldn't get cold. We eventually found them in the girls loo, soggy from being flushed down the toilet. After that we became friends, often going in search for her missing clothing.

In my third year she said that I should stop being nice to her, that people would stop liking me for being seen with "Looney Luna", as they called her. After I insisted that I didn't care and neither would anyone else who I spent my time with, because, hello, im socially invisible. Stubborn, she kept on stating how she didn't want me getting hurt because of her, which drove me to having to prove how much people didn't care about what I did.
So i stole her Butterbeer necklace.
Once I stole it I wore it over my clothes for six months, and besides the few odd looks at the beginning no one paid me any attention. I only gave it back when she made one for me, which I still wear under my clothes when feeling particularly frustrated with people around me.
I solved her "nargles" problem with the used of some hexes and Slytherin like cunning. Its ridiculously easy getting into the Ravenclaw common room, and even easier to get into the girls dorms.

"Hello Harry, I'm doing very well thank you, how are you?" She gave me a dreamy smile as she spoke, eyes fixed on something over my shoulder.
"Rose asked me to do a favour for her today. Apparently she's breaking up with Mclaggen tonight outside the common room and needs a look out" I reply.
Luna's eyes focus on me, her brow furrowing. She doesn't like my sister, often she would say that her brain is infested with Wrackspurts, or that she's in league with Nargles. This, coming from Luna, was a big insult. Made me crack a smile every time.
"I thought there was a sudden increase in Wrackspurts, their using her head as a breeding ground" she says as she turns away, going back to her reading.

I know she's insulting my sister in her own, very Luna way, but even I have to admit that Roses judgment is often clouded. I had tried to convince the blonde that Rose wasn't that bad, but it was a losing battle.

Another reason Luna likes me, besides being her first friends at Hogwarts, I'm apparently a Wrackspurts free zone and that Nargles run in terror. A huge compliment, since Luna admits she gets addled with them sometimes.
"Well Wrackspurts or not, I'm meeting her outside the common room at ten under the invisibility cloak. I'm just thankful she's dropping him, he's the stupidest so far" I say, pulling out the potion essay for next period.
What? I procrastinate, so sue me, it's potions, I could be in a thousand realities and still not be good at potions.
As the bells ring signalling the end of fourth period we say our goodbyes, her going to Ancient Runes and I going to potions.

Potions is my least favourite class, and not just because we share with the Slytherins who are constantly fighting with the my house mates. No, I don't like potions because, while this may be vain, I suck at it.
I've always been good with written work, just facts written into arguments. Since I came to Hogwarts I was very good at it, Doing even better in practicals. Magic, theory or casting, has always come naturally. like breathing. Honestly, I didn't even need a wand to do it. I mainly used it for show, since I think people really start paying attention that a eleven year old was doing wandless magic. Magic just obeyed with a thought. I could feel it, then shape it just as easy as breathing. Sometimes my own power scared me, absolute power consumes absolutely and all.

The thing with potions, it doesn't come naturally, some higher levels do, but most just don't.
I could feel the magic in the ingredient, I could feel when a potion was incorrect, but It was difficult to put all these things together to create the potion, all the different magical imprints melding and muddling together until I couldn't concentrate.
Theory, I'm ok at, they're just facts that you can learn from a book, but as soon as I try to piece it together in a potion, all instructions would flow out of my head and it becomes just the feeling of the blended ingredients.

It started about a month after going to potions, before that I was pretty good. I had a similar problem a week after I came to Hogwarts, often getting headaches and being easily confused with directions. I used to be able to sense where Rose was back in Surrey, even able to read her emotions, but after a few week of being at Hogwarts it just stopped, like I couldn't handle the amount of magic and so couldn't pinpoint her location. Shutting off that awareness to save myself from going insane.

I can sorta do it, but i've never truly tried. Every time I opened up my senses to other people my head would explode in pain, and only in the past year have I started being able to filter the information, even though most of it didn't make sense.
Upside to this ability, it's would be very hard to harm me, with a potion or enchanted object, since I feel the magic in it.
Another bonus, I can feel the different magical signatures in a potion, so if I had memorised the signature I could often pick it out amongst the rest. Memorising takes a while and I would of had to handle the ingredient a lot, so I only know a few.
I arrive at the classroom early and wait outside with the few other students that had arrived. A few minutes before class started my lab partner arrived, Neville Longbottom.

He was one of the few lions I could stand, often seeming more Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, until you got on his bad side. He's good at potions, often saying it was like cooking Herbology, but he wasn't excellent at it either, having to get tutored by his parents when he didn't understand something.
We became friends after I offered to help find his toad, Trevor, and taught him how to use a familiar spell to find lost objects. Sadly, uses the spell a lot, almost too much to be humanly possible. no one should be that forgetful. He in turn stood up for me when Malfoy insulted my robes, calling me poor because I wore hand me downs. We were fast friends after that.

Neville had this quiet bravery that I liked, only showing it when necessary, but was a gentle soul that disliked violence. Having famous Auror's Frank and Alice Longbottom as parents, one would guess he would be obnoxious, thinking he could get away with anything, like other kids. Instead he was quite, often unsure about himself and quick to assume the worst.
He was one of my few good friends and someone I would trust with my life.
"Hey Harry! You done the essay?" He calls, walking over with a swagger. He had been doing that ever since he had his growth spurt and lost his baby fat. Every time he was around me he would revert to cocky mode, lording his new height over me, literally. It's not my fault I'm kinda short, it's what happened when you get too many meals withheld.

Luckily, last year I fixed my eyesight, a special potion -they are useful- that i had Hermione brew, because shes fantastic like that. So the glasses that I'm wearing now aren't necessary, being window glass, but after years of having them they were a comforting weight on my nose, so I kept them anyway. Anyway, I'd only have to retake the potion mid-December anyway, since it only last for three months.

"Yep! Done and dusted, don't think Slughorn can complain about it" I reply. Nodding, he launches into a description of the plant he just got, a Mimbulus Mimbletonia and how he wanted to try to cross breed it with other species. Most likely Devils Snare. We chatted away, discussing plants and how to take care of the different magical ones, before professor Slughorn arrived, letting us into class.

The once retired professor had come back to his teaching post after the threat of Grindelwald was revealed. The Defense against the Dark Arts teacher used to be Barty Crouch Jr, but he ran off to join the rising Dark Lord as soon at the attack on France happened. Professor Severus Snape, once potion professor, was assigned the post and Slughorn was reinstalled.

I don't mind him, but he's extremely biased when it comes to his favourites, the ones he's "collected". Thank Merlin that he's never noticed me, I don't think I could handle one of his slug club parties. Unlike Neville, Herbology genius with famous Auror parents, and my sister, Gryffindor darling and daughter of Lily and James Potter, I was not on his raider. I don't even think he knows that Rose and I are twins, or I'm even in his class. Thats the way I want to keep it. Being invisible do have its perks

Chapter Text

That night at 9:30 I wait outside the common room, invisibility cloak over me. I had found it amongst my Christmas presents in our first year with a cryptic message addressed to Rose and I. "This saved you once before, I hope it will continue to prove valuable" .

Despite Roses need to be noticed and popular, she knew when thing had to be kept secret. We had decided to keep it in my dorm, since guys aren't allowed in the girls one but they could walk freely in the boys dorm. I can get around that, but I would rather not be seen entering the girls dorm at all.

It's a good twenty minutes before Rose steps out of the portrait hole, leading Mclaggen by the hand. Both are giggling and smiling. looking at them now, you wouldn't think that they would be breaking up within the hour, or Rose would be the one doing it.

I trail behind them until we arrive at an abandoned classroom on the 3rd floor. I recognised that we were in the Charms Corridor, and that this must be the one of the Charms classrooms.

She pulls Mclaggen in, giggling and smiling coyly. I stand guard outside, not wanting to see anything, because of a handy eavesdropping spell -courtesy of Hermione Granger- I hear everything being said. I cast it wandlesly, not needing my wand for such a easy spell.

"Come on Rose, what's going". Mclaggen sounded amused. I dont think this isnt going to end well, for Rose or Mclaggen.

"Look, Cormac, I don't think it's going to work". Her words are hesitant, lacking the usual confidence that they have.

"...what?". He sounds honestly surprised, but I suspect all Roses ex's sounded like that when she broke the news.

"You and me, it's not going to work, so I'm breaking up with you". Smooth move sis, cut straight to the point. While she might of lost her tact I can hear the confidence return to her voice. I can just see her straightening her back and looking down her nose at him, despite him being almost a foot taller.
"no, no no no, come on, we can work this out, no need to be hasty", there's some wet noises an- oh god their kissing aren't they!? Come on! no man deserves having to hear his sister sucking face.

"No!" I hear a chair being knocked over. She must of pushed him away, which makes me mentally fist pump.
"I'm not going to stay with some loser! Merlins beard you ate Doxy eggs! I barely want to look at you! so goodbye Cormac". I hear her strutting over to the door, until something is smashed against it.

I hear a squeal, probably from Rose, but I'm in the room before he can throw another desk, cloak off and furious. it been very few occasions that someone has tried to harm Rose while at Hogwarts, but only with spells, never physically.

I shove the the cloak into my sisters hands, telling her to go back to the tower with it. She looks shaky, probably not expecting him to be so violent about the breakup, but takes the material and dashes out the door. Mclaggen starts to follow, wand out and a look of rage on his face. I didn't expect Mclaggen to be so enraged about this either, but I should of. Mclaggen has always gotten what he want, eventually anyway, any guys like that don't like it when things they think they "deserve" are taken away. In this moment, he reminds me of the Dursleys, which only makes me more furious at him.

"Get outta my way, Kid" he growls, pointing his wand at me threatenly. I don't think he even knows that I'm Roses brother, or that she even has one.

"Make me" I hiss, wanting to make him hurt. I learnt its best to never throw the first punch.

He throws a boils hex at me, which I easily deflect. He looks startled for a second, blinking stupidly at my empty hand. I then remember that i never drew my wand and that it would still be in the back pocket of my jeans.

Crap. I hate it when I do that.

Hope really he doesn't remember that when morning comes.

Striding up to him I snatch his wand from his slack grip, ball his shirt in one hand and lift him off his feet. it was a skill i learnt when i was eight, to channel magic into the muscles of my body, strengthening them. It allowed me to move faster and hit harder, something I desperately needed in my early years.

"Ever touch my sister again, and I will break every bone you have" I hiss.

He nods vigorously and I send a very forceful stunner point blank into his chest. He goes out faster then flicking off a light. I set him down in one of the chairs and looking at him, I shrug, think that I might as well leave him there, for being the prick he is. It'll wear off, judging from how hard i hit him, in a few hours, so when he wakes up he'll be cold with a terrible crick in his neck.

It was all pretty anticlimactic, if I do say so myself, with the whole build up then ends with a stunner. I almost never get into fights, excluding the punch ups before coming to Hogwarts, which often end with someone in the nurses office, but from what I've seen, magic seems to cause fights to end abruptly.

I use a sticking charm to glue Mclaggan's wand to the roof, making sure it'll last for about twelve hours. I walk out of the class, satisfied and preparing to make my way to the tower when I am forcefully reminded that I don't have the cloak, Rose would have the map, and it's after curfew.

This reminder comes in the form of prefect Tom Riddle.

Fuck my life.

We stand there for a few seconds, staring at the other, before Riddle composes himself. Obviously not having expected anyone to be out this late his face showed clearly his startlement.

"Any reason a student should be out in the halls so late?" He asks, lifting an eyebrow to punctuate the question.

"Not any good ones come to mind" I reply casually "but you wouldn't consider helping out a friend as a good enough reason?". I play up the earnest act, hoping he'll just think I'm some poor Gryph that has a perfectly innocent reason for being out after curfew.

He looks amused, as if my predicament is funny to him, which really goes to show that he's a sadistic bastard.

"I'm don't think so mr...". He trails off, obviously not even recognize me from any classes we've been in together. Wow, i think sarcastically, Riddle can't remember every single name in the school? Blasphemy. I give myself a mental pat on the shoulder for avoiding detection before speaking up.

"Potter" I say helpfully. He looks sceptical for a second before that coolly amused mask slips back on.

"Mr Potter" he say "if I may ask, what did your friend need help with that caused you to be out after curfew?". His posture becomes relaxed, almost lazy.

When you're practically invisible, people don't notice that you're watching, allowing you to see more than most. When you've watch how people behave for as long as I have, you pick up on tells that hint at what a person is feeling. Riddles posture could mean two things. One; he feels unthreatened and safe, comfortable. And two; he's purposely giving out that false impression, giving the idea that he's unthreatening, therefore luring me into a false sense of security.

Given what I know of him, I would bet on the latter.

"Well...you see" I think fast, trying to come up with a half truthful story. "I have this friend Neville, who has a toad, Trevor, that is always making a bid for freedom. Today he must of escaped from the common room because we couldn't find him, and Neville would be so upset if he made it to the forbidden forest and got eaten. We would try the Accio charm, but last time Trevor almost became paste. So me, trying being a good friend, went out to look for him, and" a shrug "the time seemed to have gotten away from me" I finish. I make my tone slightly more earnest than usual, trying to make it believable.

This had actually happened on one or more occasion, but it would have only taken us 20 minutes, tops, to find him. And all those times I had at least had the cloak with me.

"Well, that does sound like a pretty good excuse, you were helping friend after all, so maybe I can conveniently forget that I ever saw you here...". I contain my surprise at his words. I would of never taken Riddle as the gullible type. But maybe he was just trying to make nice with the Gryffindor. That hope was dashed away by his next statement.

"If you tell me who's in that classroom" he finishes, pointing to the one I had Exited from.

Shit. Fuck my life. Again.

I shrug helplessly before answering. "While searching I came across a girl breaking up with her boyfriend, he reacted a little violently, so I told her to go back to her common room and I stunned him" I scratch my head, a sheepish gesture that is fake, but hopefully will convince him I'm harmless.

He seems amused again. I don't think I like that expression on him.

"Helping a friend and defending a girls honour? seems like a good excuse for being out this late, but rules shouldn't be ignored, so how about I let you off with a warning. Just this once though. Next time I'll have to take you to professor Snape's office" he states, easy grin making him seem mischievous. If I wasn't already distrustful of him, I would probably think he was ok guy. But I am distrustful of him, and this only make me more agitated.

Still, now I know why everyone likes him, if he acts like your friend right after the very first meeting. It's suspicious though, prince of Slytherin bailing a Gryffindor, one he didn't even know the name of until recently, out of trouble? Did he expect something from me for this? A favour? Nothing is free when it comes to Slytherins.

"what do you get out of it?" I blurt out, and then immediately want to take back. I internally sigh to myself, hating my impulsive behaviour that creeps up at the worst of time. At least the worst he can do is take me to Snape I think sullenly.

"Excuse me?" He looks mildly surprised by the question, like no one has ever questioned his intentions. I can see that happening, and it just makes me mad at how sheep like people can be.

Shrugging -I seem to be doing a lot of that tonight- I elaborate, not seeing a way I can reverse time or take back my words.

"you're a Slytherin, and no offence, but they always want something in return. I'm just curious what you would get out of being nice to me. It's not like I would hate you, you're doing your job, and what if I go off and start bragging that Tom Riddle let me off the hook? The teachers wouldn't like that. I don't see how you benefit from this".

We stare at each other for a few seconds, openly scrutinising each other. Riddles gaze becomes more interested, intense like I had seen him be with so many others. This is a Bad sign, since before his gaze was only considering, now its openingly questioning.

"That" he rolls whatever he's thinking on his tongue before continuing. "was a very Slytherin way of thinking. Unless you actually do want to go to Professor Snape's office?" Now he was smirking "and are you trying to tell me that you would brag to your house mates? Even at the risk of the teachers finding out you were not in the common room after curfew?" he's teasing me, which makes me uncomfortable, but he does have a point.

I grin, putting my hands up "ok ok you got me there, but it still doesn't benefit you". Evading the question Riddle? Suspicious, once again.

"Why would you care? I couldn't use it as blackmail, that would mean I let a student get away with rule breaking, so why do you care?" Was he enjoying himself? I could swear he was.

"I don't like owing people" partly true, but I mainly wanted to know what his aim was. I've been told that i'm too curious for my own good on more than one occasion.

"Don't like owing? Hmmm....what if I asked you to do something now? That way it can be a trade, you do something for me and I let you go? Sound fair?".

Yes it did, but didn't answer my questions. Its shaping up to look like I'm going to have to go without answers. I should of never opened my mouth in the first place, then I wouldn't owe him a thing.

"Sounds reasonable, what do you want?" I say, silently praying. Please don't it be something ridiculous, please don't it be something ridiculous, please don't-

"Another conversation" he interrupts my mental panicking.

"What?" I ask. I think I may have caught my sisters Wrackspurts. Luna would be ashamed.

It seems to be his turn to shrug. "Another Conversation, where you have to sit down and converse with me. And before you ask why, Because I want to know the real reason you're here. And you're not that bad of a conversationalist. Better than some of your house mates" He gives a mocking smirk "no offence".

So no Wrackspurt infections, that's good. But this makes me panicky, for a different reason. Wanting to talk again would mean he's interested in who I am, which I don't like. I dont want to be noticed, to be one of his lackeys. Id rather have nothing to do with him. I quite like my privacy.

I take a few seconds to weigh the pros and cons in my head.
Pros: persuade him that i am nothing intresting, get more insight into Slytherin dynamics, chance to analyze him, friend close enemies closer and all that jazz.
Cons: have to spend time with a person I don't trust, could potentially become another of his fans-though that as unlikely-, It'd take time away from school work, I would get noticed.

My curiosity outweighed my cautious nature in the end.

"Ok, I can accept that, any particular place?" At least it'll be interesting conversation i think to myself.

"No, don't worry, I'll find you". And with those strangely ominous words, he sweeps past, continuing on his way.

I think Life just got a little more interesting, and a little more peculiar.

I truly can't tell if it's for better or for worse.

Chapter Text

hapter 4: interesting

Surviving being a half blood in the snake pit is no easy feat, and it’s even worse if you’re a presumed mud-blood. Surviving means being adaptable, changeable and thrice more cunning then the average snake.

A perfect description of Mr. Riddle

Smart, cunning, ambitious and charismatic, he is everything a slytherin should be.

Tom Marvolo Riddle is the idea Slytherin.

A perfect student, a role model and leader, everyone knows who he is, and he knows everyone. From the lowliest parasites to the wealthiest of purebloods, Hogwarts is his very own kingdom, and nothing –no one– escapes his notice.

Saying that, the dark eyed fifteen year old is understandably confused when, without warning, some boy stumbles into his path.

It is far from the first time the teen had caught someone out after curfew, it being more of a common occurrence then a rarity. Being a prefect it is Riddles job to patrol the corridors, to catch unruly students from getting up to mischief or frolicking in one of the classrooms (unless it suited him to leave them be, like black mail. Its startling how many cheat on their other half’s while out after curfew).
Riddle was good at catching these students too, never missing one. People said it was uncanny, Riddle knew otherwise.

The brunet could sense and see auras. A handy trick learnt in his second year. He could see a variety of things, which made people such open books. It is one of the reasons he excels at knowing what to say and when to say it. He senses the moving auras of students, can even recognise the auras of his inner circle.

It’s especially helpful when avoiding people, such as tonight. The brunet could sense the patrolling prefects, the people who know that he’s not meant to be wandering around at this time of night. Everyone and everything had an aura, with no exception.

Then he walked out, casually with hands in pockets, the slightest bit smug, like not having an aura was normal. Even Muggles and insects have auras, hell, even ghosts have a slight one, and then there’s him, dead to that sixth sense of his.

For a second, he thought he was hallucinating, before disregarding it as ridiculous. Obviously this boy has learnt to conceal his aura, but couldn’t sense them? ‘Intriguing’ he thought.

They both froze, startled by the other. Tom was the first to recover from shock. Questioning what he was doing out after curfew the brunet looked him over, before realizing that he didn’t know this student. Having thought he knew the face and name of every student in the castle; it came as a bit of a shock. This boy was one surprise after another. He recognised the name Potter –how could he not when Rose Potter was the Gryffindor Princess– but grew suspicious.

Riddle didn’t know how he could have missed this boy, it should be impossible to miss someone so intriguing. As he talked –spinning a story about a lost toad for a friend and then how he saved a girl from a violent break up– the dark eyed boy studied him. He was on the short side, about 5 foot 5, lithe with a light tan. His hair looked like he woke up then put a status charm on the thing. Besides a curious scar on his forehead his face was aesthetically pleasing, some aristocratic features thrown in. Not a muggleborn, but he doubted he’d be a pureblood, or the Prefect would have known him. Rose Potter is a half-blood, so if what he says is true and they are related he’s probably one too.
His eyes were the most interesting thing though, wide and almond shaped, the black circular frames not doing anything to hide the brilliant Avada green. And how expressive they were. Like every emotion he tried to hide flashed unwillingly across them.
He was charismatic, in his own way. A decent liar to, but he shrugged too often and bit his lip, a tell, probably not even realizing he’s doing it. He could have fallen for the earnest act- it was something he saw everyday- but Riddle does see that act every day, and knows when it’s false. He could have let it go though, if he hadn’t already known that this Potter boy was powerful in his own right.

He looked surprised when it seemed the Prefect was letting him off the hook. Tom might have too, if it wasn’t for his curiosity and need to keep up an image. He couldn’t let people think he was going soft after only a month. The boy winced when he pointed to the class room though, as if in pain.

His body language, despite his best efforts -that would fool most- screamed wariness, distrust and suspicion which only increased when he tried to make him feel more comfortable, easing up and giving a mischievous grin. This boy was so untrusting it was sad. Good, because you can’t ever be too trusting, but for a Gryffindor it was kind of sad.

Actually, it was interesting how Slytherin he acted, despite his red and gold tie. Puzzling, and how the Slytherin did like puzzles.

So he made him promise another conversation. A simple request, harmless, but full of so many possibilities for Tom Riddle. Yes, this one will be interesting.

But first, he would have to get a little more information on the boy, and Riddle knew just the person.

TMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMR

The next morning Tom approached Abraxes Malfoy, one of his inner circle of friends. Being one of the most resourceful people he knew, and very unlike his twin brother Draco Malfoy, They should have destroyed that menace before he exited the womb.

Abraxes would easily find out everything there was to know about the mysterious Potter, and remain overt about it.

“Abraxes” the Brunet called, gesturing to come to where Riddle sat when his attention was gained.

“Yes my Lord?” the Blond asked, sitting down on a chair across from the other boy, voice quiet and eyes averted respectfully. He had once tried to rise above Riddle in the ranks, after it was revealed to the house members that he was Slytherins heir. He challenged his place as lord Slytherin as an attempt to gain back his seat as head of the house, where a Malfoy should be. He was quickly put in his place, and shown what happened to people who crossed Riddle.

“I want you to find a boy, and get all the information you can on him” he said, aloof in appearance only.

“Yes my lords, what is his name?”

“I only met him in passing, but he claimed his last name was Potter. I want you to find out if there is another Potter in this school besides Rose Potter. If there isn’t, I want you to find him.”

Interest quipped; Malfoy raised an inquiring eyebrow before asking. “Can you describe him my lord?”

Tom thought back on the boy, on any distinguishing features. He listed them as they came to mind. Terrible black hair, old round glasses, but cared for, same with his robes, judging by height either a short fifth year or average fourth year, slightly underfed looking. He mentioned a scar in the middle of his head, lightning bolt shaped and luminous green eyes, the exact shade of a killing curse. He also said how the boy didn’t have an aura, which startled Malfoy.

“None at all?”

“Not even a little”

He finished off the explanation with him possibly being a Gryffindor and a Half-Blood.

“Anything else my Lord” Abraxes asked, mind already running through possibilities of who the mystery boy could be.

“he also mentioned being friends with a Neville, a boy with a toad named Trevor. He knocked a boy out last night after he tried to get violent with a newly ex-girlfriend. See who was caught out after curfew last night and who they were dating, that may provide a clue.”

“Yes my lord”

“Now find him”

Malfoy bowed his head in assent before getting up and leaving. When he left the brunet picked up the book he had borrowed last night. ‘A guide to hiding auras’ by Belladonna Took. It was the best place to start when you’re tying to learn about someone with no aura to go off of. He lay back in his chair, settling in to read until breakfast.

TMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMRTMR

Abraxes approached Riddle that night. “My lord, I have news on the Potter boy”.

‘Potter boy? What? Who is-?’ Tom thought to himself in bewilderment before a feeling of fog lifted from his mind, allowing him to remember their conversation from that morning.

“What have you found Abraxes” he asked. He allowed his mind to dwell on the strange forgetfulness for a moment before pushing it away, to analyse at a later date.

‘he is indeed a Potter, in fact the twin brother of Rose Potter, Harry, but their relationship is strained on the evidence that they speak infrequently. It was her newly ex-boyfriend that was found unconscious last night. Both were orphaned at a young age, parents killed by an unknown dark wizard on Hallows Eve. Parents were James Potter, Pure-Blood and Auror, and Lily potter nee Evens, Mudblood healer. For some reason they had gone into hiding a few months into Mrs Potter’s pregnancy and it was unknown that they even had twins until they were found in the after-math. They went on to live with their mothers Muggle relatives.”

‘Interesting’ Riddle thought to himself. Going from what he knew of Rose Potter their parents would have still been in training, or would have at least just finished. Neither could have gained an enemy that fast, not even the most stubborn of Gryffindor’s could do that. And especially not a enemy powerful enough that they would have to go into hiding so extensively that no one would even have known there was twins.
From what Riddle had heard it was an invisibility cloak that hid them, a very powerful one too. But any wizard worth his or her salt can find a way around them; they’re not full proof by far. And who would put magical children that, undoubtedly, have magical family with Muggles. Something about that wasn’t adding up.

Abraxes continued with his Intel, not noticing his masters straying thoughts. “He’s a fifth year Gryffindor but doesn’t seem to associate with many from his house. He is friends with Neville Longbottom, along with Fred and George Weasley, and occasionally their younger sister Ginevra. He interacts most frequently with Luna Lovegood and Hermione Granger. He is well acquainted with Ernest Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchy, Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones, presumably through Granger and Longbottom. He’s been seen protecting students from every house from bulling and frequents either the library or the astronomy Tower. His school marks are exceptional but he doesn’t participate in class discussions, volunteer answers or get called on to answer one by a teacher”

“That’s all? Nothing else? No relationships? No rivalries? No secrets?”

“Besides the students I have already mentioned and a few other individuals, most don’t even know that Rose Potter had a twin or that there was another Potter in Hogwarts. It’s as if he barley exists. What I have given you is all that my source would disclose”

“Your source? And who might that be”

Abraxes turned his head to look at something, or someone, over riddles shoulder before making a beckoning movement with his hand. Appearing in Riddles prefrial view and coming around to stand by Malfoy was a nervous looking Arcturus Black.

Being the son of Sirius Black and a third year, Riddle has always kept tabs on the quiet Slytherin. Unlike other members of his family this particular black kept to himself, quiet and unobtrusive, the exact opposite of his father. He had no close friends, he wasn’t engaged in social interactions, and if it wasn’t for his last name Riddle would say that no one would even know who he was. But now it seems he had inherited a liking of Gryffindor’s, as his father had.

“Mr Black has supplied most of the information about Mr Potter”

Dark eyes fixed onto the boy. “so...” tom begins slowly, “how do you know Harry Potter?”

The third year swallowed nervously, keeping his eyes averted. “He saved me from bullies back in my first year. I didn’t want to feel indebted to him, so I followed him, tried to figure out a way I could repay him. I couldn’t though, he didn’t want anything, or at least nothing I could give him. He just, just” the boy licked his lips before looking up to meet cold eyes. “He’s just a Good person, really Good. The bullies that he helped me with were fellow Gryffindor’s, and he’s never asked for anything in return, never. He doesn’t want attention, he isn’t a threat. Please my Lord, he doesn’t want any trouble.” Arcturus pleads with the older boy, eyes almost begging.

Tom looks at him impassively, my turning over the new information. So the boy has an admirer, how cute. The brunet couldn’t tell if it was admiration or infatuation for this boy that drove Black, but either way it could be useful. And Good? Riddle already knew the green eyed boy was good; it’s that goodness that will make Harry so much more fun to break. And so much easier to mold.

But why does this boy think that Potter would be a threat? He had not told him of his suspicions that he is powerful. Black knows something about potter that he doesn’t, and is unwilling to share. Even more interesting.

“Tell me Black; how it is that Mr Potter is so unknown. You tell us that he is exceptional, but then how come no one has noticed him before, even though his sister is so well known herself?” Riddle lounges back in his chair, feigning an air of nonchalance.

Black looks just as bewildered as Tom feels, both not quite sure about anything of the subject. “I don’t know” he replies. “He just has this way of making people forget about him, he just blurs into the background almost. It seems the more he doesn’t want you to be around him the harder it is to remember him. He just really doesn’t want attention. Its better when you interact with him, but if you don’t he just kind of, slips away.” He looks bemused and slightly angry at the thought that someone like Potter could be forgotten. “It’s almost like a self protective mechanism, to just slip under peoples radars.”

“Self protective?”

“I heard that the Muggles he lives with are the worst”

Interesting, very, very interesting. Riddle gestures for Black to take a seat across from him, signaling that Malfoy is dismissed.

When the Black is seated a sinister smile curls the older Slytherins mouth upwards, eyes now alight with curiosity.

“Tell me more”

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: down the rabbit hole

"You what?!" Hermione screeched. She was quickly shushed though by one scolding look from the librarian.

Suitably contrite, she turned back to the boy in front of her and hissed out in a much quieter voice, "Harry Potter you did what?!"

He blew out a puff of frustrated air before answering, "I'm the one who knocked McLaggen out last night after curfew.” The boy knew he shouldn't have told Hermione, but most of the time he couldn't bear not letting his best friend know everything. Even after all these years, he and Hermione were still friends, best friends even.

While Neville was his best mate, the one he talked to about guy stuff and had idle chitchat with, Hermione was, and had always been, the first he went to when something big, or important happened. While Rose was still his sister by blood, Hermione was without a doubt, his sister by choice.

So when she mentioned that McLaggen had been found that morning in the classroom Harry had left him in, and that he and Rose had broken up, the brunet couldn’t help but tell her.

Pulling a bag out from his pocket and splitting it open, he began the task of sorting jelly rings by colour, keeping the red and yellow ones for himself.

She shook her head before burying it in her hands. "What am I going to do with you?" She moaned.

Harry winced, before confessing, "That's not the last thing that happened to me.”

There was a thump as her head hit the table, before he heard her muffled words. "Do I even want to know?" she groaned, but the words had an edge of curiosity to them.

He let out a bark of laughter before replying, "It has something to do with a certain Riddle you might be curious about," he teased, a grin pulling at his lips.

The bushy-haired Ravenclaw had been crushing on the suave Slytherin for the past year, ever since she’d discovered boys really. To her, he was perfect, an ideal to strive for and a shining example of humanity. She wouldn't hear a word the Gryffindor boy had to say about him, mainly because anything Harry thought of him was at least mildly uncomplimentary.

"What?" she asked, her hair flying as she jerked up in surprise.

Harry smirked, handing over a few white and green rings, which she graciously accepted, before answering, "I ran into your ‘perfect’ Prefect last night when I exited the classroom. So much for having a sixth sense for wandering students, he was just as surprised as I was when I saw him. And I guess he isn't as perfect as you think he is if he's letting off students."

Hermione face turned thoughtful. “I don't understand,” she said, voice bemused.

"I know,” he said, “I was just as confused as you are when he practically let me off the hook-" he was cut off by the shaking of Hermione’s head.

"No, not that," she said looking up, her eyes meeting Avada green. "Tom Riddle wasn't meant to be patrolling last night, it was the sixth years that turn."

Harry froze for a second in thought. If he wasn't patrolling last night, then what had he been doing? Warning bells went off inside Harry's head at the thought of the dark-eyed boy wandering the halls for some reason that no one knew about. He snorted at Hermione's bewildered face. "Guess your perfect ideal isn't as perfect as you thought.”

She frowned at him before snapping, "Shut up, he probably had a better reason than you did!"

"And I wonder what that is," Harry said, rolling his eyes. He didn’t know why she was so obsessed about a person so obviously fake. No one was that perfect. Hermione should know that better than most.

"Well I don't know." She threw her hands up in the air, before her eyes snapped back to the brunet. "But you said practically. What does that mean?"

Harry sighed, almost frustrated. "He made me promise him another conversation. I guess my presences was deemed worthy by His Majesty."

"Well that's interesting, but you shouldn't be so hard on him. It's unfair how you think the worst of him because he's a Slytherin,” she admonished.

He smiled sweetly at her frowning face. "I don't think the worst of him because he's a Slytherin. I think the worst of him simply because there's evil hiding behind that charming mask of his. I know it."

He popped a few rings in to his mouth before continuing. “Anyway, hopefully my ‘superpower’ will kick in and I’ll never have to speak to him again anyway.” He smiled. He sort of loved his strange ability to be unnoticed; it provided him with the freedom to be anonymous.

“You shouldn’t say stuff like that. One day Harry, people are going to see you for what you are,” she scolded.

“Let’s hope not.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes at the boy. The bushy-haired girl couldn’t see why Harry wanted to remain unknown so bad. He was actually kind of terrible at it too, and if it weren’t for his ‘superpower’ everyone would know who he was. He wasn’t the sort of person that could sit on the sidelines for very long, not when it came to bullies or other people in need. He may have wanted to remain hidden, but sooner or later the right person would come along and drag Harry into the spotlight, and then everyone would see the hero she saw in him.

She also couldn't understand why Harry was so firmly against Tom. He was nothing but nice to everyone. Besides, they’d never even spoken to each other!

The Ravenclaw felt a surge of anger at the people who raised Harry, the ones that made him so suspicious of the world. The ones who’d made him want to hide. She pushed away the ugly feeling to concentrate on the words in front of her. She soon forgot about Tom and Harry, being swept away by The Application of Arithmancy in Everyday Life by Lydia Martin.

Harry couldn't let the idea of Riddle wandering around the school after curfew, go though. Why would he be out? Was he covering for someone? Was he looking for something? Meeting someone? Harry couldn't fathom why he would be there, or what he was there for.

Questions plagued him for the rest of the day.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP HPHPHPHPHPH

Riddle made good on his promise the following day. When Harry heard his name coming from a smooth voice behind him, the Gryffindor jumped, having been too absorbed by his new book, a gift from Remus. Twisting around in his chair, the green-eyed boy scrutinized the Slytherin behind him.

"How did you find me?"

Tom raised an eyebrow before answering cryptically, "I have my ways.” He didn’t mention that it had, in fact, actually taken several tries of walking in and out of the library with a few stops at the astronomy tower to find the smaller boy.

Harry cocked an eyebrow at the answer. "That's creepy.”

"Some would say resourceful."

"Doesn't make it less creepy."

Riddle quirked a smile at that, amused. It was so rare these days that people told him exactly what they thought, and it was a refreshing change. Watching the dark-eyed boy slide into the seat across from him, Harry took the chance to study the other boy.

He was, by every definition, handsome. With his strong jaw line, Roman nose, porcelain skin, and wide, charcoal-colored, dark eyes. He had full lips, thick, slightly wavy brown hair, and high cheekbones. His face was perfectly symmetrical and flawless. It was almost outrageous how good-looking one person could be, and Harry could easily see why most people would trip over themselves to have even a word with him. It was understandable too, why so many people were easily fooled when they had that face to look forward too. Oh, and he had dimples. He'd even overheard poetry about those dimples.

"What are you doing here?"

Tom smirked down at him. "I was promised a conversation, wasn't I?" He replied innocently, like he hadn’t practically blackmailed the other student into it.

“I’d actually hoped you had forgotten.” It was a tragic time for his superpower to fail him. Harry leaned back in his chair, arms folded over his chest. “Go on then,” he said, waving a hand in Riddles direction. “Ask away.”

“This is a conversation, not an interrogation.”

“Why do you even want to talk to me?” Harry asked, bemused by the older boy.

The Slytherin shrugged. “You interest me.”

"Then you must have hit a rock bottom in conversation material," Harry snarked, giving him a sympathetically sarcastic smile. He couldn’t see what about him would interest the Slytherin. He’d played the role of the average Gryffindor, hadn’t he? Or maybe it had something to do with his last name; maybe he wanted to know something about Rose? But he could have just gone to the source for that, Rose would be only too happy to tell the prince of Slytherin all about herself. It made no sense that he would want to talk to Harry, and the green-eyed boy didn’t like not being able to make sense of things.

Riddle reached over and picked up Harry's discarded book. “A Guide to Living with Werewolves by S. Stilinski,” he read. “Now why would you be reading something like that?"

"It’s a gift from my godfather. While it’s not actually an informative text, but a novel, it’s still informative, and most importantly: amusing. I like the main character’s sarcasm." Harry smiled. Lupin would send him fictitious books about werewolves on occasion along with a letter, just to let him know that he was doing OK.

"And what's your stance on werewolf treatment?" he asked curiously. It wasn’t something the Slytherin got to hear a lot about.

"I think it's stupid and unfair. These people turn furry once a month and with the Wolfsbane potion, they're not even mindless beast like some people think. The only reason they can't afford it is because people aren't willing to hire them because of the stigma attached to being a werewolf. It's people like Greyback who give them a bad reputation, and yet, he's still roaming free. It's an endless cycle that could easily be stopped." Harry finished his short rant, blushing when he realized just how heated it had got. Harry was just as heated and angry about the treatment of werewolves as Hermione was about Elfish rights.

Riddle blinked a few times as he absorbed what the other boy had said. It was the first real emotion he had seen on the brunet besides sarcasm and wariness. "You have a strong opinion on the subject," he stated curiously.

"My godfather’s a werewolf," the Gryffindor offered lamely. It was more than that though. He had seen the conditions some lived in, the fear people reacted to them with, and had read about them extensively. Riddle didn’t need to know about that though.

"Who are you living with then? Since I know that Rose and you are orphans, and that you’re not living with your Godfather, I assume due to his Lycanthropy.” Riddle already knew the answer, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask for it instead of just coming out and saying he knew it. That would be, in Potters words, creepy.

Harry's mouth tightened on the subject, looking almost grim. "My Muggle relatives on my mum’s side of the family. Where do you live?"

“An orphanage in London.” Riddle replied, just as tense on the subject. The brunet’s mouth quirked up unexpectedly into a smile before he spoke again. “I have to say, I expected more resistance when speaking to you.”

"Disappointed?" Harry asked, smiling mockingly. If he was looking for resistance, he wouldn’t find it here. Bullies liked it better when you fought back, and Harry had no intention of being a victim or puppet in whatever game Riddle was trying to play.

The quirked mouth morphed into a small grin. "No. In fact I find it refreshing for someone to speak to me so plainly.” He looked completely genuine, not a single lie in that statement. But there was something there that gave Harry the impression it wasn’t the whole truth.

The smaller boy spread his arms, almost inviting but with a bland smile. "Well I'm an open book.”

That made Riddle chuckle, because if there was anyone who wasn’t an open book to him, it would be Harry Potter. "That I doubt.”

And they continued like that for the next few hours, discussing a variety of things, like Quidditch.

“I see no point in it; it has never made much sense to me.”

“Then let me educate you.”

Foods.

“Indian food is superior to tarts.”

“Blasphemy.”

Religion.

“Completely foolish.”

“I like some of them, but like everything, it’s the extremists you have to watch out for.”

Classes.

“I would say I’m best in charms and potions.”

“I’m pretty good in Defense and Ancient Runes.”

Teachers.

“The best would have to be Flitwick.”

“Going to have to disagree with you and say McGonagall. Worst?”

“Slughorn.”

“We are in total agreement.”

And lastly, more personal things.

“Were did you get that scar?”

“Don’t know. I’ve had it as long as I can remember. Why were you snooping around after curfew when we met?”

“I was looking for something.”

By the end of their conversation it was almost dinnertime, and the two boys were at ease with each other.

“I suppose I should be going now.” Riddle said, standing up and rolling his shoulders back as he attempted to work out the kinks in them.

Turning his back on the other brunet, he talked as he began to walk away. “See you next time, and until our next conversation.” He stopped though when he heard Harry's reply.

“There won’t be a next time.”

Tom turned back to the other boy, raising an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

Harry sighed before speaking. “Look, it was nice talking to you, but I only promised one conversation and I’d rather not get involved in whatever it is you’re planning. I don’t trust you and frankly, I’d rather not become a part of your ‘collection’, so please, leave me alone.”

Riddle’s gaze suddenly became piercing, calculating, and shrewd. Harry had been nothing but civil, nice even, but now the Slytherin saw just how uncomfortable he had become under Riddle’s attention. The boy truly didn’t desire Tom’s presence or recognition. Not like everyone else.

“What makes you think I’m planning anything?”

“Just a hunch.”

Riddle smirked. Arcturus had been right when he said that Harry didn’t want attention, but he was wrong about him being a threat. Harry's wasn’t the sort to take things lying down, and had already shown he wasn’t afraid to stand up for something, despite how uncomfortable he might have felt. He had potential, and if everyone else saw that, he could even develop his own following. Combine that with impeccable instincts -or just constant suspicion- and he could be a worthy foe. Or a great ally.

Harry Potter was perfect mix of not wanting attention but willingness to do what he had to. Riddle wouldn’t be letting him go. He’d just have to persuade harry a bit more.

“We’ll see.”

And with that he turned back around, walking out of the library without a backwards glance.

Harry put his head in his hands, internally groaning to himself. Riddle wasn’t meant to take that as a challenge. He’d just wanted him to back off, forget about him. Why couldn’t things ever be simple for him? He sighed, deciding that no matter what Riddle did, he’d ignore him. He wouldn’t let Riddle get inside his head. He wouldn’t.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: Pools of tears
 
Ignoring Riddle was easier said than done, especially when he started turning up wherever Harry was. 

All. The. Time. 

It was jarring for Harry, having to go from seeing him sparsely to seeing him everywhere. But he wasn’t just talking to Harry, no. In fact, he’d barely said two words to the boy. It was actually the Gryffindor’s friends who Riddle was getting cozy with.
 
It started out simply, with Harry finding Riddle and Hermione talking after a Herbology class. It wasn't that out of ordinary, as they were both prefects that shared some classes. It wasn't the first time Harry had seen them talking together. 
 
 It was the first time however, that they’d had a project together.
 
Hermione told him over dinner that night about how she was going to be seeing more of Tom due to their Herbology project.
 
"Oh Harry, you know how we have to grow and take care of our own Fanged Geranium for Herbology right? Well Professor Sprout said that we have to pair up, and you know how there's an uneven number of students in Ravenclaw?" Harry nodded. It had always been a point of concern for him due to Hermione always being the one left partner-less. "Well I was, again, the unlucky one, and I was going to have to partner up with someone I don't even know. But then, Tom Riddle offered to be my partner! He said he wouldn’t mind! Tom!" Hermione gushed, eye brimming with adoration over the Slytherin. The sight made Harry vaguely nauseous. 
 
"You still barely know him," Harry pointed out, unimpressed as he munched on a treacle tart.
 
"I know Tom Riddle!" She huffed angrily at the younger boy. Harry had told her of Tom and their conversation, which he seemed to have enjoyed. She didn't get why, after spending hours with the Prefect, he was still so against him.
 
"That boy tried to talk to me in the hall yesterday," Luna piped up from Harry's left. She was slowly buttering her 6th bread roll, despite not having eaten the other 5.
 
"Really?" Hermione asked, interested. It seemed her infatuation with Riddle had only grown since this morning.
 
"Yes," the smaller girl stated plainly. She turned to look up at Harry, a whimsical smile adorning her face. "I called him a Nargle and left," the blonde said, giggling and nodding as she tried to keep a straight face.
 
Harry grinned at Luna, delighted. Throwing an arm around her shoulders he cheered, "That's my girl.”
 
Hermione groaned at the two of them, shaking her head. "She's picking up your bad habits," the brunet accused, pouting.
 
"Nonsense," Harry sniffed in return, before flicking a pea at her.
 
Hermione wasn't the only one Riddle was now frequently interacting with either. Neville too was sucked in, and even Harry's Hufflepuffs.
 
"Hey Harry, what are you doing in this neck of the woods?" Neville called when the green-eyed boy entered the Hufflepuff common room. Harry, through his four Hufflepuffs, had been welcomed into their common room. Every time he stepped into the room he wished he could turn back the clock and choose to be sorted into Hufflepuff.
 
"Fleeing," he responded, trotting over to the alcove where the five had gathered and laying down on the pillows and cushions. 
 
"From who?" Ernie asked curiously.
 
"Hermione," Harry stated, flopping down onto an unoccupied mound of pillows. 
 
"What happened?" Susan inquired, concern lacing her voice.
 
"Nothing's happened," the brunet soothed, relaxing the red head. "It's just that she won't stop talking about Riddle. Riddle this and Riddle that. I don't know what she sees in him." It had only been a few days since their project started, but already Harry could see that Hermione's infatuation was growing and growing. He was really sick of the name 'Tom Riddle’.
 
"He lent me a few really good books on cross-breeding plants the other day. There are some titles I've never even heard about!" Neville praised from his left, almost beaming.
 
Harry's expression became alarmed. "Oh, not you too," he repudiated.
 
He looked to the others only for them look downward in guilt.
 
"He lent me a few notes for Arithmancy. I really don't think I would have passed the test without his help," Justin said, uncomfortable with the admittance. Not about Riddle, just that he’d had to borrow notes.
 
"He gave me a spare Care of Magical Creatures text book when mine got eaten," Susan endorsed, trying to smile convincingly at the boy.
 
Harry sat up, shooting them all a disappointed look before turning to the girl on his right. "Oh Hannah, sweet, sweet Hannah. Tell me you don't believe this tripe," he cajoled, smiling sweetly at the blonde.
 
She gave a sheepish grin and a shrug. "He's always been quite nice.” The Gryffindor sighed dramatically, casting a speculating gaze to the boy across from him.
 
"Ernie, you believe me, don't you?" Harry pleaded.
 
"He is a suspicious fellow," the blond agreed, nodding his head wisely.
 
"Ernie thinks everyone's suspicious," Justin said, nudging his best friend. "He'd accuse his own mother of being Salazar reborn if he was given an inkling."
 
"Always thought my mum had a thing for snakes," Ernie replied in mock thoughtfulness
 
"Harry," Susan began, "If you like Hermione, just tell her.”
 
Harry gave her a perplexed look. "Of course I like Hermione, why would she doubt that?"
 
Hannah rolled her eyes at his thick headedness. "She means ‘like’ as in the kind of like, you know, romantically.”
 
His eyes widened in shock, a look of horror overcoming his face. "What? Oh god no that's like wanting to kiss my sister." Harry convulsed a little at the image. Twin-cest might be some people’s thing, but definitely not his. "No, no no no,” he denied. “It's not like that between us, we're purely platonic. That's it."
 
"Well you're acting kind of jealous mate," Neville commented.
 
"I'm not jealous! I'm just worried! The evil is strong with this one," the brunet said, nodding seriously.
 
"Harry, no one ever gets your references except Justin, and even he barely gets them. Just give up."
 
"Never," the Gryffindor said vehemently. 
 
"You know who is defiantly a git?" Justin asked
 
"Zacharias Smith," Hannah and Ernie cursed in unison.
 
A collective groan sounded in the air.
 
"Oh god, what'd he do now?" Susan moaned, giggling at everyone's reaction to the name.
 
"I don't think I've ever met a viler Hufflepuff." Ernie ratified.
 
And so it went, everyone throwing around who was the worst in the year.
 
"Draco Malfoy is a git too, but a prejudiced one at that!" Hannah pointed out.
 
"Yes, while Smith isn't prejudiced, he doesn't like anyone and constantly disagrees with other’s views. Malfoy at least, is just biased.”
 
"So is Ron Weasley, but I think the only thing holding him back from being as bad as Malfoy is that if they found out, his siblings would crush him." Harry attested.
 
"You know, I don't think there's a truly gitish Ravenclaw in our year. But if we're talking about the year above ours, Marietta Edgecombe would take the cake, hands down." Neville said.
 
"Such a Nargle," Harry agreed. His mind flashed back to third year when he had snuck into the Ravenclaw dorm and put hair dye in her and her friend’s shampoo bottles. Luna had been delighted by the seaweed green and sickly orange colour.
 
Harry smiled at the people around him, his friends. He had been paired up with Justin Finch-Fletchley in Herbology after Neville had fallen down a few stairs on the way there in second year. Hannah Abbot had shared her notes with Harry the few times he had fallen asleep during History of Magic. They both had invited Harry to join a study group, where he’d met Susan Bones, also a friend of Hermione's, and Ernest "Ernie" Macmillan, a child hood playmate of Neville's.
 
 Apparently prominent families often made their children play together to strengthen political bonds or something along those lines. 
 
While not as close to them as he was with Hermione, Neville, and Luna, he still considered them some of his best friends.
 
When curfew started to approach, Neville and Harry split off from the group, returning to Gryffindor tower.
 
"Hey Harry," Neville called, jogging to catch up to him.
 
Harry stopped to wait for his friend. "Yeah?" He questioned.
 
The taller boy clapped a hand on the other’s shoulder. "You know I'll support you through anything, right? You'll always be my best mate."
 
Harry gave the Gryffindor a nod, raising a jelly ring he had retrieved from the bag in his pocket to his mouth. "I know Nev," he said bemusedly. He didn’t understand why Neville would be checking this with him. He chewed on the lolly, trying to think back on what was said in the Hufflepuff common room that would prompt such a statement.
 
"So hypothetically, if you were to have a thing for guys, I'd be totally okay with that. I'd be fine even if I wasn't your friend, but I'd be extra supportive if you were, you know, gay. I'd be fine if you weren't too, of course. You should love who you love! You know, sexuality has never really been important in the Wizarding World-" the shorter boy could see Neville was growing more and more uncomfortable with each word, so he cut him off to save them both from the embarrassment.
 
"Nev, are you trying to give me ‘The Talk’, because Hermione already gave me that one back in third year," he told him grimly. It was still the most horrifying afternoon of Harry's young life. She was thorough. With diagrams. According to her, all of the female students were given ‘The Talk’ in their first year. Boys had missed out on the "joyful" experience. He'd rather not have a repeat experience with Neville.
 
"No!" Neville exclaimed, waving his hands to convey his point. "No, just, if you were gay, you could tell me. We've never really talked about your preference before, and you of course, already know I like Hannah-" Neville's spiel was cut off yet again
 
"Nev, I'm Bi," he stated, confused at the sudden talk. "But I lean more towards guys then girls.” Harry had thought Hermione had told him, but apparently not.
 
The boy looked mildly shocked by Harry's bluntness before recovering. "Oh! Okay, that's good! I'm glad you told me! So, if you were to have a crush on a certain someone, I wouldn't tell Hermione, I wouldn't tell anyone-"
 
"Neville what are you trying to get at," he sighed, cutting to the chase.
 
The brown-eyed boy held his breath for a moment before blurting out "DoyouhaveathingforTomRiddle?"
 
Harry choked on the jelly ring he had just been munching on, doubling over and coughing to dislodge it.
 
"What?!" he coughed out, desperately trying to get his breath back.
 
The other beat his hand on Harry's back, mouth now going hundred miles a minute. "I just thought that you were being so hard on Tom because you liked him because he really is attractive I've heard, but you weren't out of the closet and I wanted you to know that I’d be fine with it. Hermione would be fine with it too! I just wanted to let you know that we'd support you and so would the others, I mean Ernie's gay and they don't have a problem with it and-" Harry interrupted Neville's panicked run-on confession.
 
"Neville, breath," Harry's said slowly. His voice croaked a little from his almost-choke by jelly ring.
 
He let Neville take a few deep breaths before continuing. "I don't have a thing for Riddle, I simply don't trust him," Harry explained slowly.  "I'm not in the closet, I'm just not interested in anyone. I know you'd be fine with it, and I trust you guys. I'll tell you if anyone catches my fancy, okay?"
 
The taller boy nodded in reply, still taking deep breaths. Inwardly he was relieved that he'd gotten that talk out of the way. He’d been dreading it for a while now, even before Tom Riddle came along and made it a lot more complicated.
 
"Now how about we head up to the tower and play a few games of exploding snap, yeah? And next time, warn a guy when you're about to say something like that, okay?"
 
Another nod. Harry smiled, leading the other boy to the stairs.
 
It was nice that Neville put the effort in. He'd have to repay the concern and subsequent embarrassment the brown-eyed boy had felt with a few lollies. He's sure he had some sherbet straws stashed up in his room.
 
HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPH
 
"...And he gave me this book called Paths Through Time by Bill Preston and Ted Logan, which is about how if developed right, Time turners could be the key to real time travel. Can you believe it? At some point in our lives they could build an actual time machine!" Harry quietly whistled the Doctor Who theme song. "And you should hear some of the theories Tom has about these ideas..." Hermione said, continuing to wax poetry about the amazing Tom Riddle and all his brilliant ideas. 
 
All week, ever since Hermione had started meeting up with Riddle, the Slytherin boy seemed to be all she could talk about. Her infatuation had grown and grown until you couldn't even call it that anymore. More like obsession. Frankly, it was scary how he had already twisted Hermione until every waking moment in her life was about him. How he had charmed her and made himself her customized knight in shining armour.
 
The scariest part though, was that this wasn't even the first time he had seen something like this happen, and it before it really hadn’t ended well for that girl either. 

Harry had spent a lot of time at the library as a child to get away from the Dursleys and Dudley’s gang. He did have do work for two people after all, and Rose could do only so much when it came to them. Luckily, out of sight out of mind worked well on that family, so most of the time Harry was scarce. But now, even when he went back to them for the summer, he would pile all his books into one suitcase to leave with the librarian, so he could read them when he wanted to.
 
Growing up he’d had a friend, Mary Bee, who spent as much time in the library as Harry. She was 14 and he was 8 when they’d officially met after seeing each other in the library for over a year. Harry had even had a crush on her at one point because she was smart and nice, and didn't treat him like a freak. She had tutored him in things he didn't understand, and would show him more advanced things when he got them. She would tell him about secondary school, how terrible it was, and how she was treated like she didn't even exist. She told him about her friends, how they only treated her as a convenience, as someone to talk to when they had no one else.

Things went downhill when she was 16 and came to the library, saying how she met a boy. She described how cute and funny he was, and how smart and wise he seemed about everything. He’d paid attention to her, made her feel special, wanted. She would talk nonstop about him, how she liked him, how she loved him. She would do his homework-"he's captain of the football team, he doesn't have time"-, help him study for test-"it's only prep, he could ace them without needing it if he wanted to"-, all because he smiled at her. "It made him smile," she’d said dreamily, staring off into the distance. That was her excuse for everything she did; he smiled, and she went with it.
 
One day, she came back to the library, but her eyes were dead. She said that she had finally gotten the nerve to ask him out, only for him to say how he'd never go out with her. How she wasn't "girlfriend" material, and that he liked someone else. The last thing she did was say how she never wanted to leave this library, her own enclosed little world, ever again. She’d then kissed Harry on the forehead, promised to be right back, and went to fetch a book.
 
It was half an hour later when the 10 year old got up to go to look for her.
 
He found her in the romance section, her face pale, eyes closed, and with tear tracks running down her face. He could almost picture her as a sleeping angel if it weren’t for the vertical cuts covering her wrists, about six on each arm. A pool of blood soaked the carpet beneath her, a fatal amount that no one could survive losing.
 
He’d run to the librarian and told her what had happened. She quickly called an ambulance, but Harry knew that it was already too late. She was dead before he’d even got there.
 
Hermione, as she got older, reminded him a lot of Mary. Both were nerdy bookworms, uncaring of there appearance, and deeply infatuated.

He wouldn't let Riddle do the same thing to Hermione. He couldn’t take that chance.
 
"Hermione," the Gryffindor called gently. She was too in too deep though, ignoring him in favour of talking about Riddle.
 
"Hermione," he said again, this time more forcefully. Still nothing.
 
"Hermione!" he finally shouted, slamming his hand down on the table. The Ravenclaw fell silent, surprised at the forcefulness of his tone.

The Gryffindor glanced at the librarian, but Ms. Pince was too busy yelling and raving at a student who spilt pumpkin juice on a book.
 
"What?" she questioned, voice tinged with hurt at him for cutting her off.
 
He glanced back at his friend. "You've been talking about Riddle nonstop; don't you think it's time to give it a rest?"
 
She looked bewildered for a moment before answering. "I have no-"
 
"You have Hermione,” he said, cutting her off, frustrated. “You've had been talking about him all week, nonstop. You're acting obsessive.”
 
Her shoulders slumped as she gave a dreamy sigh, smiling at something over his shoulder. "I can't help it. He's just so smart, and brilliant and-"
 
Harry groaned to cover his racing heart, and the fear curling in his chest. "Oh Merlin you can’t see it can you?" He exclaimed. "The way you talk about him, the way he treats you, anything! Can you?"
 
Her smile dropped. "I don't know-"
 
Standing up the Gryffindor grabbed the girl’s wrist and tugged. "Come on."
 
"Harry what-" she began perplexed, but stood up and followed him willingly.
 
He led her out of the library to the nearest classroom he could find. He dragged her in and shut the door behind him before turning to her.
 
"I didn't want to say this in the library, but Hermione, can't you see?" He pleaded. "He's never going to return your feelings." Harry could see the rising indignation on the girls face and held up a hand to silence her. "No, listen. He's not good, or nice. He'll take everything you have and leave you an empty shell. He's using you, for your brains or something I don't know, but regardless, he is. That’s what guys like him do. They string people along, make them their puppets and then keep them under their thumb, unable to get away. He'll drag out your infatuation; test its limits, then see how much further he can take it. He'll take and take, giving you bread crumbs in return. Haven't you seen him? Lestrange, Malfoy, Greengrass, Carrow, hell, even Parkinson." He knows she has, knows it. He doesn't understand why she's just not seeing it now. "He's collected them, like soulless China dolls, ready to be of use to him when he needs them. And eventually, you know what he’ll do when his career is stable and people start telling him to settle down? He’ll pick a nice girl with a rich family and lots of political ties. It's what people like him do. They use others and throw them away when they no longer hold value to them. You need to stay away from him." He grasped her hands, almost begging for her to understand.
 
"So what should I do, huh? Ignore him?" The Ravenclaw bit out angrily, tugging her hands out of his grip.
 
"If you have to, yes," he snapped.
 
"Well I'm not like you!” She screamed. “I'm not content to hide away in the shadows! I want to be noticed! I want to be appreciated! Is that so much to ask for!?"
 
At those words Harry felt his heart break a little. They’d never really talked about why Harry was her only constant friend, and why she tried so hard to be the best. His heart now broke for the lonely little girl, the overlooked adolescent, and that under-appreciated teenager. His heart broke for all the times he couldn't do anything, times he didn't know that there was anything to do something about. He didn't know Hermione had felt so trapped, so hopeless. And he hated Riddle for seeing it and playing on it so.
 
But he had hope for the confident woman he had glimpsed, in small moments when they would just sit and talked, when she bossed him around, or answered a question in class. The woman who wouldn't stand for a no, who'd fight for what she believed in and wouldn’t back down. He believed in her. Riddle wouldn't destroy her.
 
Harry shook his head, trying to shake the deep sadness that had overcome him. "It isn't," he said, looking up into furious brown eyes. "But you don't need him for that. Hermione, you’re beautiful, you’re brilliant, you’re the brightest witch of our age, and you don't need a man for any of it. You are noticed, and you are appreciated. I just don't want to see you hurt, but at this stage, I realise it's unavoidable. I just don't want to see you become a puppet for his amusement, a toy, because you are so much more than that. I don't want to see you hurt by him."
 
Tears that had been held back by her anger spilled over, flowing from her eyes and down her cheeks in rivets. Harry strode to the crying Brunette and engulfed her in a hug.
 
"I just wanted to feel special," she sobbed into his neck, tears creating an ever-growing wet patch on his shirt. "He made me feel special," she whispered, almost too quiet for him to hear. He made a few soothing noises and gently rocked the girl before answering.
 
"I know Herms, I know. But you already are special, talented. The whole world could be against you and you'd still find a way to bring it to its knees. You are one of the most extraordinary people I have ever met. There's a life past Hogwarts, and people who will think you are just as amazing as I do. You just have to be patient," he soothingly, rocking her gently.
 
They stayed that way for a long time before Hermione disentangled herself from his embrace. "I'm okay," she said, wiping at her eyes. Breathing out a shaky sigh, she asked "What now? I get I shouldn't be around Riddle, but it's hard when he approaches you. And we still have the Herbology project to work on."
 
"Don't worry, I'll deal with it,” Harry promised. He didn't know how, but he would. He'd do anything for the girl in front of him. Even sell his soul to the devil.


Now he just had to find him.