Work Text:
Harry woke up in the infirmary. It wasn’t the first time that had happened, not by far, but something seemed off as he looked around. Things seemed to be in different places than he remembered, and he’d had plenty of chances to remember where everything in the room usually was. But something more was different too, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.
He turned his head as a tall, smiling woman in old fashioned robes bustled into view. A woman who was very obviously not Madam Pomfrey.
“Ah, you’re finally awake!” she said, coming around to the side of his bed and waving her wand over him. “It looks like you’re fine, all things considered. Now, can you tell me your name?”
“Er, Harry?”
She frowned at him, eyes narrowing. “Are you asking me or telling me?” she asked, voice suddenly stern. She didn’t seem to be quite as easy going as he was used to with Madam Pomfrey. “Because let me tell you, it would be better to know now if you have amnesia so I can find a healer with the proper training. We don’t just have one of those at Hogwarts, you know!”
“Of course,” he replied, wondering if he should tell her his full name. That would really depend on why exactly things seemed different, though. “I remember. But, uh, could you tell me what the date is?”
“Why, it’s October eighth of 1945,” she exclaimed. “School just started a few weeks ago, which is why your appearance was so surprising.”
The date suddenly triggered a memory, and he smiled. So he’d gotten to the right time after all. “Right, right. I was actually hoping to transfer in.”
“I’ll have to see the headmaster about that,” she said, obviously a little doubtful. “I’m sure he’ll be wanting to hear from you anyway. It’s not every day we get someone just appearing at the gates!”
“I might have misjudged my location a little,” he said, which was true enough.
He’d been aiming to land inside Hogwarts, but he supposed the wards prevented that. Maybe Hermione had been right and he’d needed a bit more of a plan than to just get to Hogwarts and somehow stop Tom Riddle from becoming Voldemort. He rubbed absently at the charm that was thankfully still in his pocket. It was the way he’d gotten there in the first place and the way he’d get home when he was finished. However that would end up happening. Well, plans had never really been his strong suit.
It took only a few minutes before the doors to the infirmary opened and in came two wizards. He recognized them both immediately from the glimpse of them he’d gotten from the diary version of Tom back in second year. Even if he hadn’t, though, the much younger Dumbledore would have been quite obvious.
“Madam Spivens tells us you’d like to enroll at Hogwarts,” Dumbledore said, and Dippet nodded vaguely along. “I’m afraid that’s a little… unorthodox to say the least, especially with your strange arrival.”
“Yes, um, sorry about that, sir,” Harry said, flushing a little. He frantically tried to think of a good reason for his appearance and desire to enroll, wishing again that he’d listened to Hermione. She hadn’t liked this idea in the first place. “My guardian just died, you see, so I though Hogwarts would be the best place to finish my education. I was just about to graduate.”
“We’re very sorry for your loss,” Dumbledore replied. He made quite a good show of looking like he meant it, but Harry had a feeling he was still suspicious. “What was your name, my boy? Madam Spivens didn’t say.”
“Harry. Harry Evans, sir.”
Dumbledore hummed, stroking at his beard, but didn’t say anything more. They both looked over at Dippet, who so far hadn’t said a word. Harry wondered if that was a good thing or not, but he really didn’t know enough about the man to say.
“Well, Hogwarts is certainly the best place to complete your education,” Dippet finally said, somehow sounding even more frail than Harry remembered, but he was smiling. “We will of course be glad to welcome you to our school.”
“Thank you, sir!” Harry said. Now just to figure out how to get close to Tom.
“You’re quite welcome. It’s too late in the semester for you to be sorted, but,” Dippet said, looking at Dumbledore and receiving a grudging nod. “Yes, I believe we have an empty bed in the seventh year Slytherin boys dorm. I’m sure Mr. Riddle will be more than happy to be your guide. He’s top of the class, so you shouldn’t have any trouble catching up!”
Well, Harry supposed that would work as well as anything.
***
It was difficult getting used to being around this young Tom Riddle. Voldemort he was used to in some ways. He’d been fighting him for years, and his whole life had really been definitely by him. Tom Riddle, though, was an entirely different matter.
He was in many ways very like the version of himself from the diary that Harry had met, but it was quite obvious he’d grown and matured quite a bit in the two years since he would have made it. He wasn’t nice exactly, but neither did Harry see him being particularly cruel. It could have been an act, or just the way Tom acted around him, but for some reason Harry didn’t think it was.
They spent a lot of time together. Despite the decades difference in their times, the Hogwarts curriculum didn’t seem to have changed much at all. Harry was sure Hermione would find it fascinating, but he just found it annoying because it meant he had to work hard to get caught up. And with Tom as his own personal tutor, he didn’t have any choice but to work hard. Tom hadn’t made it to the top of his class entirely on good looks and charm, after all. Apparently even brilliant future megalomaniacs worked for their grades.
A week after arriving in 1945, Harry still wasn’t sure what to do about Tom. He tried to tell himself that it was because there were just so many things distracting him, but that wasn’t quite right. Trying to catch up and keep up with classes was distracting, but honestly, Tom was the most distracting thing of all.
He’d admitted to himself, eventually and rather grudgingly, that he’d been attracted to the diary version of Tom. And this one was like that one, just… more in every way. It was starting to make their daily study sessions in the library a little awkward, at least on his end.
“Are you paying attention, Harry?”
And there again with the distraction. Harry looked over at Tom, smiling sheepishly at the stern look on the other boy’s face. “Sorry, I was thinking.”
“That could be dangerous,” Tom teased, surprising a laugh out of Harry that had the librarian, Madam Kristof, coming to shush them moments later, much to Tom’s amusement.
It still shocked Harry a little that Tom could be so normal, so… human. He wasn’t quite so open with any of the other students as far as Harry could tell, but that could easily be put down to Harry being someone new, someone who, as far as Tom knew, didn’t have a history with him that would prevent him being so free. Tom did have quite a reputation to uphold.
They returned to their studying, Harry pretending to read his textbook as he tried to think about what he’d come here to do. He knew Voldemort had to be stopped, or well, Tom had to be stopped from turning into Voldemort. Harry’s own survival depended on it, and that of everyone he knew and loved in the future. Just, what to do?
The biggest problem was that despite what he knew of Tom before even coming to this time, he found he really liked the other boy. Liked him a little too much maybe, but at least there one was no one here to call him on it. He was sure Ron would have plenty of things to say about those particular feelings, and none of it positive.
It was making it hard to think, that was sure. He obviously couldn’t just kill Tom to prevent him from becoming Voldemort. Even if he wasn’t dealing with these feelings, it wasn’t justifiable yet. That yet was the only thing that kept him from saying screw it and forgetting what he came here for in the first place.
He realized belatedly that he’d been so distracted by thinking that he hadn’t turned a page in far too long. He looked up, flushing a little at the narrow eyed look Tom was shooting him. Whoops.
“Studying very hard, are we?” Tom asked, shifting a little closer. Harry could feel the heat of his body just a few inches away. “Or are you just lost in thought again?”
Harry was saved from answering by the arrival of two seventh year Hufflepuff girls. They stopped just beside the table, friendly smiles on their face. Harry was keenly aware that Tom had frozen next to him, teasing smile all but gone. It was a little shocking that his attitude could change so rapidly, but it seemed to be happening more and more often when any other student came around to talk to Harry.
“Hi, Harry,” one of the girls said a little breathlessly. Harry wondered absently if she’d been running in the library. “We were wondering if you were busy right now?”
“I’m, uh,” Harry stuttered, looking back and forth between the girls. Crap, he was never good at this.
“He’s studying, so you should leave,” Tom snapped before Harry could say anything more, making the girls shrink back. They looked between Harry and Tom, eyes wide, before nodding and scurrying away. Tom smirked triumphantly.
Harry, though, frowned. “What was that for?”
“What do you mean?” Tom asked in that way that Harry had quickly learned meant he was avoiding some discussion he didn’t want to take part in.
“Why’d you scare them off?” Harry said, rolling his eyes. He hated it when Tom was being purposefully dense. “They were just trying to be nice. I didn’t need you to rescue me or something.”
Tom snorted, making Harry’s frown deepen. “You were obviously busy, Harry,” he replied breezily, seemingly not at all bothered by Harry’s annoyance. “They could see I was right here.”
“Oh, so you’re just annoyed they said hi to me and not you?” Harry asked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning as far away from Tom as he could in his chair. “That’s real mature, Tom.”
“That’s not it at all,” Tom hissed. Anyone else would have been afraid of Tom’s obvious anger, dangerous as he was even as a student, but Harry had seen Tom far worse. This was nothing. “They just had no… no right to come over here like that. You’re mine.”
For a moment, Harry couldn’t do anything but stare. A million thoughts were running through his mind, each more confused than the one before. Out of all the possible responses he could have imagined from Tom, this was certainly not one of them. He’d thought that they had been becoming something like friends, strange and confusing as that was, but this was far, far more than that.
But the stranger thing was that Harry found he kind of liked this sudden possessiveness Tom was displaying. That wasn’t something he’d ever thought he’d say, but then again, no one had ever gotten possessive over him. Or at least not possessive over anything but the idea of him.
“That’s, um,” Harry stuttered out, trying to get his bearing. “What does that, you know, mean? That I’m… yours.”
Tom rolled his eyes, but Harry could see the fondness there. Still, he expected some sort of sarcastic response from the other boy, so he was quite surprised when instead, Tom just leaned in and kissed him.
Harry had kissed a couple of people in his life, but this somehow blew away all the rest. Trust Tom to be the best of the best even at this. Harry wasn’t sure he ever wanted to stop, especially when Tom pressed in as close as they could while sitting next to each other. Harry’s eyes fluttered shut as he tried not to moan.
“Ahem.”
The broke apart to see Madam Kristof standing a few feet away, arms crossed and a very annoyed look on her face. Harry felt his face flush, especially when Tom didn’t make a move to create space between them. He tried to offer an apologetic smile, but it didn’t seem to do any good. Looked like their study session was over whether they wanted it to be or not.
***
A month later, Harry slipped out of the castle before breakfast for some time alone. He wandered down to the lake, stopping just under a small copse of trees. It was a little cold outside, still misty and dark, so he cast a quick warming charm. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be out here.
He pulled the charm he’d used to get to this time out of his pocket. He’d kept it there ever since the day he came to this time, waiting to use it again once he’d finished what he came to do. Now, he supposed, he’d done exactly that. Tom was different now, not the budding Dark Lord he’d been before.
Harry ran a thumb absently over the charm, staring out at the gently rolling waves of the lake. He could go home anytime he wanted. He just wasn’t quite sure now if he wanted to. He missed his friends of course, Hermione and Ron and all the Weasleys especially, but he’d found something here he’d never expected. Something he didn’t and couldn’t have back in his own time.
If he was being honest, the past month was the happiest he’d ever been in his life, and it was all thanks to the man who’d tried almost his entire life to kill him.
Shaking his head, he slipped the charm back into his pocket, turning back toward the castle. He didn’t have to make a decision right now. Besides, Tom would be waiting in the Great Hall for him. They had a date planned.