Work Text:
When Harry finally found himself in an empty compartment of the Hogwarts Express, a sense of exhaustion washed over him. Summer with Sirius had been great, truly. After finally clearing his false charges, Padfoot, Moony, and Harry had spent the summer at a Black summer house, relaxing rather than hiding. He spent an even split of his time with the adults, but let them have their little romantic moments without him in the frame whenever Harry stepped out of the house to do his own business. Which, turns out, was quite common because of his many appointments.
But the reality was, he was already annoyed at the prospect of returning to Hogwarts to face yet another year of life-threatening challenges. He could handle it, but he honestly found it a hassle. Death argued that he should just accept it at this point as he was a “favourite of the Gods”, though that might not always mean good things for him. Harry honestly wondered what it means to be considered a “favourite”, when he was constantly dealing with a murderous husk of his best friend, a nosy Headmaster, and the murderous DADA professors, all this, on top of the logic-defying Quidditch accidents that he would get himself into. Fortunately, he would be able to see his friends again. He had written to Ron and Hermione over the summer, declining at their invitation to a meet-up at the World Cup. As much as Harry wanted to go, he had other things to do with his best friend and Sirius.
Sighing, he leaned back against the window and wondered when he would see the both of them again. Sirius, he promised to owl on a weekly basis, and Tom—they decided to protean charm a diary for nostalgia’s sake (it was Tom’s idea, much to Harry’s initial lack of enthusiasm). Tom had hinted at plans for retrieving the final missing shard of his soul but decided not to reveal much about what he had in mind. Harry could guess, though; it most likely had to do with the tournament that was still somehow happening despite protests led by Lord Black and other traditional families. The Progressives preferred to capitalize on the idea of international relations. Why they couldn't have chosen any other event that didn't involve the historical death of its competitors, Harry had no idea.
Closing his eyes, Harry felt the still air and the humming magic around him. It reminded him of the Hogwarts wards and his ma— With a slam, the compartment door opened to reveal a huffing and puffing Ronald Weasley followed by an exasperated Hermione Granger and a miffed Draco Malfoy. Harry still couldn’t get over the odd sight. The rest of the school had been used to the Golden Trio’s shenanigans, but everything was only made worse now that he had roped a Slytherin into his mischief and mayhem. Having decided to befriend the loyal Slytherin last year, Harry was glad to have the new addition to his friend group. Though, he constantly dismissed theories about how he was operating with an inner circle, Harry insisted that it was merely a friend group (one that would burn the world to protect him). In addition to his close circle, he had managed to befriend some of the Hufflepuffs, but out of his out-of-house friends, both in his inner circle and outside, Harry did have a favorite.
As if on cue, Luna popped her head in behind the frozen teens as they looked at Harry in shock.
“Hello, Harry.”
“Hello, Luna. Would you all like to come in?” He smirked and lifted his brow, a move he had picked up from a summer of frolicking with Tom, though the expression itself still had a slight twist of Harry’s own mischievousness.
“Mate, is that… really you?”
“Did you not hear Luna just now, you blubbering idiot? Merlin, you are as pathetic as ever.”
“Shut it, Malfoy. You… you…”
“Boys,” Hermione cut in after Ron was unable to come up with a comeback at Draco. She also found it slightly funny to see him stuttering, but refrained from laughing because Draco was being rude. She had taken it upon herself to be the middle ground out of the two and mediate their arguments as a neutral party.
The blonde smirked at Ron’s shocked face while he stood tall behind Hermione. But after a year of these interactions, Hermione knew exactly what was going on. It was as if she had eyes behind her back.
“Enough, the both of you. You should be ashamed of yourselves. Do you honestly need to always insult each other?”
Draco rolled his eyes but obliged, sneaking past them to claim the other spot left empty on Harry’s side of the bench beside Luna.
“Weasley’s got a point though, Harry, you look… different this year.”
“How was your summer, Harry?” Hermione asked after she settled in, eagerly prompting Harry to at least address everyone’s burning curiosity.
“I just took the final dose of the potion and ended up getting a growth spurt.” A lie. Harry had been under glamours for a while until he was finally the right age again. The potions themselves did cure many problems, though. But it took a while, one full year of an intense potions regimen brewed by Tom himself. Harry felt a slight sense of pride for his best friend, Tom was a genius on so many things that Harry never had much interest to. Harry much preferred to spend his time looking at hidden rituals, wards and enchanting creations with invented charms.
“You look really… mature.”
“What Weasley is trying to say is that you look quite attractive and better-built, Harry. Have you been working out or something while you were off at the vacation home? Or did you take some funny potions, seeing as you refused to let any of us visit?” Draco tried to sound arrogant, but Harry could hear the pout behind his voice at the idea of being rejected so firmly. Harry really wanted to spend the summer in his true body after enduring all year in his childish form. He already had to conceal much of it with Padfoot and Moony there, so he made sure to get out of the house often.
“It’s the potions.”
“Oh, Harry, are you doing better now? How was staying with Sirius?” Hermione caught on to the slight tremor behind his voice at the idea of having to take so many potions. She would be mortified if she realized the true, flesh-tearing nature of the repairing and healing potions he had been taking. Tom found it gruesome, but he still insisted on being there to watch the experience. Harry wasn't sure why his best friend insisted on being there to see him in pain, but he was sure that Tom didn’t enjoy it unlike his other torturing habits.
“Lord Black seemed to be doing better, according to Mother.”
At that, Harry nodded, “He was talking about his old cousin Cissy whenever I asked him about his family. I think that they might be scheduled to have another dinner sometime soon at the Manor.” After the two realized that they both had a penchant for shopping and splurging on gifts, they had gone on many shopping excursions together.
“Which manor?”
“I think the Main Black Estate.”
“Hm.” Draco nodded and opened a book, settling down to read it after asking his most urgent questions.
“I would have thought that you would be at Quidditch though, Harry. Why did you turn us down?”
“Because Sirius wanted me to have a nice family party and dinner. He pulled out all the stops and somehow got Kreacher to make a Treacle Tart. He wanted something a bit quiet, and I agreed. As boisterous as Sirius may be, he doesn't like how the media has been focusing too much on him as of late.”
“Still, don’t know why you didn’t invite us over,” Ron grumbled.
Harry smiled tensely. They may be his old friends, but this past year taught him that they weren’t the ones he grew up with, not truly. They were still far too innocent, and Harry would rather keep it that way. He could work on finding his Ron and Hermione eventually. Their souls were still out there, kept hidden and in stasis through his Death Magic.
Draco suddenly put his book down as he remembered something. Hermione already began sighing as soon as she caught the familiar gleam in his eyes as he looked at Ron. “Did you hear about what will happen this school year? I don’t know if your father told you, Weasley, but it’s big news.”
“What's it to you, Malfoy?” But everyone in the compartment could tell that he was uninformed about the events.
“Knowing Harry and his luck, something always happens,” Hermione sighed, but still gave Draco a look that said, "Tell us what you know."
“Well, my father told me that some of the schools were coming for a big event.”
“Foreign schools?” Hermione asked with interest.
“I’ll give you a book on it later, Granger.”
Hermione smiled, “What’s that got to do with the event though? I assume Hogwarts is hosting something big.”
“The Triwizard Tournament,” Luna answered airily.
“What’s the Triwizard Tournament?” Hermione asked, looking around for answers.
“It’s barbaric, is what it is,” Draco sighed.
Harry found it funny, watching these interactions he never thought would happen before just manifest before his eyes. Draco had matured immensely, and he had grown to really appreciate Hermione. Though he didn’t look like it, he cherished Ron as well, but still enjoyed jabbing insults at him like a sibling he never had.
Draco sighed and rolled his eyes again, launching into an explanation of what the Tournament was, but ending up mentioning the ball.
At that, Ron yelped.
“I need to get dress robes then?” Ron’s face soured. He knew that his family had no nice dress robes, and he hardly had any money for one.
“Stop groaning, Weasley, I will owl you some decent ones. I couldn’t appear to hang out with some cheap and ugly peasants after all,” Draco preened, but his tone was too fond to really have any sharpness to the insult. Unfortunately, Ron didn’t pick it up. He thought of it more as an insult than a joke. Though Harry, Hermione, and Luna all thought it was a very badly worded jest.
“I would rather wear rags than accept your stupid clothes. Who needs fancy dress robes anyway!” Ron yelled back, crossing his arms and turning away from them to look out the window.
Hermione sighed again, but she noted that Harry had just watched them with keen interest. “Harry, you are being awfully quiet today.”
“Just thinking about stuff, ‘Mione.”
“You got something on your mind?”
At that, everyone turned to look at him after a longer period of silence.
“I miss Sirius.” And Tom. “I have a bad feeling about this Tournament.”
“It’ll be alright, Potter,” Draco said with a sureness that had everyone raising an eyebrow.
“What’s wrong with being hopeful? Merlin, you guys are such pessimists. The defense teacher won’t try to kill Harry; just look at our teacher last year…” Draco paused for a dramatic moment, “Lupin was a decent teacher, had a bit of a furry problem, but it turned out alright.”
Everyone laughed at that, the tension easing up as Draco made the odd joke in between Ron and Hermione’s tales of their summer adventures. Luna stayed silent, giving Harry a knowing look.
“My lord, everything will be worth it. In all the universes that you have decided to do something like this, there has never been a failure,” she said in a quiet but firm tone.
None of the others heard, caught up in their own rapid discussion about the DADA professor. Harry nodded towards Luna, leaning back into his seat once more to take everything in around him. He missed this warmth, and it was good to have it back. But even the comfortable warmth didn’t ease the ache and chill in his soul. It was a restless feeling that never seemed to go away.
Everything would work out.
Despite everything, he trusted that.
~
Walking into Hogwarts once more, most of the students and professors stared at him. The latter in surprise and the former with a very keen interest. Glancing around, Harry tried to guess at the spectacle they were marveling at. He noted that some were even drooling slightly if they kept their mouths open for much longer. Draco snickered slightly, nudging him and making his way toward Slytherin after waving towards the rest of the group.
Having had enough of Harry being clueless, Hermione pulled him towards their usual spot at the table and mumbled to herself, “You would think that after fixing his goddamn eyes, he would take a better look at himself.”
At that, Harry realized.
Oh. Oh.
They were staring at me.
Laughing slightly, he wondered what Tom would think about the young witches and some wizards who were still staring at him. The possessive brat would most likely try to curse their eyes off.
Harry didn’t linger on why he would even think that in the first place. Oblivious as he was to Tom’s intentions, he somehow still caught on to the jealously and possessiveness that Tom had, even if he didn’t call it by that name. Despite it all, Harry thought that his best friend’s behaviour was cute.
Harry took his goblet of pumpkin juice, silently cast some detection charms on it, and took a sip. He was waiting for the big announcement as he met Dumbledore’s piercing gaze. The old headmaster kept a blank look, but the blue eyes that normally twinkled now remained sharp and still. The look gave nothing away though. Feeling slightly annoyed at the old man, he broke away his stare and turned back toward the table.
Glancing over at Snape before Harry left the hall, he thought about the life debt that Snape owed his father. But honestly, Harry was unsure of what to even do about the issue. What happened in that generation seemed too complicated for him to delve into, seeing as there were few alive who were central to the conflict during the first Wizarding War. Harry looked at where the potions master had left, thinking about any leaks in the plan that might cause him to have an annoying pest lurking around his trail. Harry’s changes could be attributed to a potion that left a very distinctive scent. No doubt, Snape would know about what he was using if he caught onto the distinctive scent of lilies and cinnamon. It was an ingenious combination that Harry had never seen in any other potions book, but the writing was distinctively his mum’s and Snape’s. The scent was strong enough that potions masters would pick up on it under his cologne, Draco had asked about it as they were walking into the hall. Harry declined to comment but knew that Draco had suspicions about the potions that he would refuse to comment on despite knowing Draco’s talents in potions. It needed someone to stand close by to him though to catch the scent, something like the small compartment of the train. Though Harry was sure he would need to talk to Snape eventually, he knew that he should avoid him otherwise.
But no matter what the old professor guessed, Harry was sure that Snape would not be one to ruin his plans by running to Dumbledore with his findings.
As he turned around the corner, rejoining Hermione who was sandwiched between a bantering Ron and Draco with the hoard of Slytherin cronies following behind their Slytherin Prince like lost duckies, identifying Theo and Blaise out of the group trailing behind Draco, Harry nudged the two of them and made his greetings.
“Heir Nott. Heir Zabini. Well met. How were your summers?”
Blaise turned to Harry with a mischievous smile as he was watching Draco’s interactions with Ron and Hermione, “Heir Potter. Well met, of course. Everything went splendid; we were both wondering when you would reply to our owls that we sent you.” Blaise mimicked a posh tone and lifted his nose while talking, almost as if he were mimicking Draco when he was throwing a fit.
Harry chortled and replied earnestly, throwing off the pureblood heir mask for a moment to reconnect with his friends.
“Sorry about that, guys. I was a bit caught up over the summer with some things and missed you guys on the train entirely.”
“We should have known.”
“What do you mean by that?” Harry feigned an insulted look but stayed quiet. He was interested by what they could be alluding to.
“You are always up to something, Harry. Should’ve known that the moment you started worming your way onto the Slytherin Hierarchy after our Second year.”
That part was mostly due to Tom’s insistence that he get better friends who can teach him how to carry himself when out in public. To which Harry had initially cursed at Tom for insulting his friends like that, but then realized he meant teaching the whole concept of a Slytherin mask. It was only after befriending Theo and Blaise that he fully understood Tom’s total bullshitting skills and his ability to kiss ass at times, not that he really did thatto anyone other than Harry. It was an art form that he had learned but not truly appreciated ever doing himself. Ever the Slytherin at heart, but he still preferred acting like a mindless Gryffindor. Life was more fun that way. What use was a Slytherin friend then if not to get you out of trouble afterwards?
“I could hardly find a place for myself in your esteemed house, not being in it myself.”
“Potter, you have enough Slytherin in you to might as well be the heir,” Theo rolled his eyes but smiled. Harry smirked at the mention of the Slytherin Heir though. Both Theo and Blaise had no clue what the smile meant but noted on the fondness that it carried.
“Are you up to something though? You only talk to us mostly during court sessions.” Harry had secured a spot as the counselor to the Slytherin Prince, Draco. It was the highest spot that he could attain, not being a Slytherin himself. Harry’s situation was an anomaly enough that he was even in their politics despite not being in their house. Having eliminated much of the drama that occurred in his third year, he was left mostly bored and testing the waters of politics using Slytherin’s simplified system. Tom was right, it was a bit fun to be terrifying when no one could defend themselves against you. When done in moderation, it was fun to be a menace.
“Oi. Harry, you still there? Bloody hell, he’s zoning out again.”
“Oh, sorry.” Theo tsked and gave him a look.
“We are meeting on Friday after the last class in the Slytherin Common Room, password is…”
“I can just use Parseltongue; it’s fine.” Harry cut him off. He eyed where they were. The other Slytherins and Gryffindors in their year that he didn’t talk to were around. They wouldn’t appreciate the fact that he had their password, especially as he caught some non-court Slytherins eyeing their interaction, glaring. Harry honestly found it funny when he thought about how he was knee-deep in their politics yet most of the house had no idea. It was partly his efforts that made Draco the Slytherin Prince, set to be King the next year.
The reminder seemed to make many silent and some of the Gryffindors glare at him even more. They did not appreciate how he had acted last year, and they seemed to sense that his Sly behavior was ‘unbecoming’ of his house.
As Blaise eloquently put it when he had told them the story last year, “Honestly, Potter, I don’t know if there is a more Slytherin move than just manipulating the bloody hat to put you with the bloody Gryffindors for Merlin’s sake.”
Smirking, he nodded toward Theo and Blaise in goodbye and made his way toward his normal seat, Draco joining him beside him moments later. Ron and Hermione claimed their spots in front of him.
Their first class was exactly what Harry thought it would be like. Moody pointed out his curse scar, much to the amusement of literally anyone else, and Harry made a point to kill the damn spider before Neville could get any paler. With a Diffindo, of course; it would have been concerning for a Fourth-year student to be able to cast one of the deadliest spells to ever exist.
Most of his friends had much to say about Moody after they were done. The Slytherins, wanting to avoid the conversation about their parents and the dark magic that the teacher scorned so harshly. Harry joined the rest of his friends as they made their way to their next class, already casting thoughts about Moody behind him. He had many things to do that year, and Moody was not that much of a priority compared to the Tournament and locating the husk of Voldemort.
Much to Harry’s surprise, a month passed by quickly, and it is already time for the other schools’ delegations to arrive. Sure, that everything would go as expected, Harry relaxed into his spot.
As he sat by the sides of the Great Hall waiting for everyone to pool in, his friends huddled around him and eagerly anticipated the arrival of new students. Across the room, right in his line of vision, sat his other friends. He could tell that the Slytherins were excited for the prospect of new allies and connections to make, meanwhile Ron was just excited to see Viktor Krum. Harry just honestly wished to be anywhere but here. Harry sighed again as his friends made concerned glances at him. They were unsure about what he was even tired about at this point, but Harry wasn’t about to just reveal to them everything that he had been planning. Thinking of slipping away, he turned to Hermione and was about to mention going to the library and asking her to cover for him when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.
He then did a double-take.
What the fuck.
Before he could even think about the consequences, Harry let his feet carry him out to the entrance past the crowd of Hogwarts students shoving to get into the Great Hall to get their spots. It was a good thing that Harry had his friends arrive earlier than normal today.
~
Tom smiled mischievously as he stood by the entrance of a very familiar Great Hall. He honestly had no idea how Harry could have missed the fact that he had intended on joining him this year, but he took great pleasure in being able to surprise the brat. Laughing to himself, he turned to Karkaroff, ready to make a snide comment about waiting outside for Merlin knows what reason before a sudden crash nearly toppled him over. Despite being tall, Tom Marvolo Riddle still felt tiny compared to the absolute jock known as Harry Potter. And the brat even had the balls to be grinning so happily at catching him off guard for the first time ever.
Tom himself would never confess to the fact that he was indeed shocked and annoyed that his magic had not warned him about someone approaching so close, but saying something would also imply that magic had grown so used to Harry being around him lately.
The realization made his ears burn bright red as he willed himself not to blush.
Salazar, Potter was going to be the death of him. Though not in the way that he had originally thought.
Too caught up in his own thoughts, Tom missed the sudden hush silence their surroundings as everyone stared at them in shock. The headmaster in particular, looked as if he were about to faint and Minerva McGonagall had a mirrored look of shock and recognition.
His Durmstrang classmates, confused as to how this boy managed to approach the sociopathic transfer student. On the other end of things, all of Hogwarts shocked because this was Potter acting like of this out of all people.
~
Harry had not been thinking when he came over to hug Tom. He had been physically affectionate over the summer, mostly as a joke, so much that he had gotten used to it. So honestly, he did it without much thought. But when he realized where he was and what had just happened, the fact sobered him up instantly.
Stepping back, or at least trying to, Tom quickly caught his arms and looked straight at him with a grin.
“Potter…” he drawled out, the bastard was enjoying the attention, “it’s been a while. Haven’t seen you in, a couple weeks.”
Harry grinned back, “I missed you.”
There was a pin dropping somewhere, but Harry didn’t really care about it at the moment, absolutely smitten with his best friend who was also very much smitten with him, not that he realized yet.
Harry also missed the sight of Tom’s ears burning up at that as he tried to cover up his embarrassment shockingly well.
“I didn’t tell you because I thought you would have guessed. It was the most logical choice to join you this year, but no. I thought that the hints I’ve been slipping were rather obvious,” Tom sighed, shaking his head but with a small smile gracing his face.
“Well, that’s what I get for not listening to you.”
Tom chuckled, “I wouldn’t say that you don’t listen to me, Potter. Just that you prefer to do things your way.”
“You are not one to talk, Tom.”
The hall went silent. They had just called each other by their first names. It was now even more clear how close they were, and the name itself made Dumbledore and McGonagall stiffen.
Tom looked around, his hands retreating from their grasp to run through his hair. He noticed their surroundings, the sudden lack of sound, and the shocked faces of the professors and students alike. Catching eyes with Dumbledore at the end of the hall, his eyes narrowed dangerously.
Oh, shit.
Later, if anyone asked him about Tom, Harry would just insist, "He's just my best friend!"