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“What the bloody hell was that?” Harry groaned, his glasses slung across the room and his body in a tangled mess on the floor.
He could hear the twins cursing up and down the wall enough to make a sailor blush, and he suspected that they had ended up in a rather unfortunate spot among the wreckage.
“Your guess is as good as mine, Haz,” George mumbled, pushing himself up off his twin.
“Why does the room look like it's been through a war?” Fred used his brother as leverage to pull himself to a sitting position, his hair in a disarray that almost threatened to put Harry's to shame.
“Or a dragon's nest of gold and jewels, if the dragon liked debris and clutter,” Harry grumbled, summoning his glasses and repairing them before shoving them roughly on his face enough to make the hinges squeal.
“Shall we go to the kitchens to get something to eat? We can figure it out later, I'm hungry.”
“You are as bad as Ron.” George looked offended, his palm against his chest and his mouth dropped open.
“Well excuse you, I am a growing wizard, isn't that right Freddy?”
“Yes, Georgie, we are growing wizards that need to eat. But we do not eat nearly as much as Ronnie so that is mildly offensive.” Fred sniffed, his nose in the air in a mock Malfoy look.
Harry gave them a bemused look. He rolled his eyes and pushed himself to his feet, brushing off his Weasley jumper as he went.
“Are you two going to get up so we can go get something to eat or are you just going to sit there all day? I don’t fancy going to the Great Hall right this moment.” Harry snarked, making his way towards the door, looking at the debris all around the room. There wasn’t anything interesting, unfortunately.
“Yeah, we’re coming you tosser,” Fred mumbled, pulling his brother up and going after Harry, who had already deserted them.
“Wait up!” Fred and George took off after the running brunette. They caught up with him quickly due to his malnourished stature and their long legs.
They slung their arms around his shoulders, caging him in between their bodies. Their prank plans started filling the quiet air as they walked, Harry put very little input, content to let them speak freely.
Until a Prefect with a sickening familiar tone rang in the air. Harry dreaded turning around, something the twins didn’t hesitate to do, because they didn’t know this prefect. They never heard his smug and cloying voice. They don’t know what he did, what he does.
It was then that Harry realized that there was something else going on, something happened in the Room of Requirements. They had traveled over fifty years in the past due to some stupid artifact.
“You are aware that you are out past curfew, no?” Riddle spoke, and Harry turned around slowly. “And you are out of proper attire.”
“That’s not a Prefect or Head Boy,” George murmured under his breath so only his brothers could hear.
“It’s Tom Riddle." Harry murmured back, feeling their spines straighten and tense. “Just shush and let me handle this.”
“There seems to have been an incident, we were just on our way to the Headmaster.” Harry said, giving a tight smile.
“Is that so,” Riddle drawled, his perfect brow arching in disbelief. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I accompany you, correct?”
“We wouldn’t want to be a bother, surely your rounds are about over?” Harry looked just above Riddle’s eyebrow, and prayed that the twins would be smart enough not to look the bastard in the eye.
Harry really, really hoped that the Headmaster was still awake… According to Hermione, the Headmaster before Dumbledore would have been Dippet.
“It would be an absolute delight to escort you to Headmaster Dippet, just to make sure you get there in one piece.” So that definitely sounded like a thinly veiled threat. Harry nodded and smiled again.
“Alright, well feel free to join us.” Harry turned his back on Riddle, despite his instincts telling him not to. He grabbed hold of the twins by their shirts and pulled them to walk with him.
“I don’t believe I caught your names.” Riddle mused, his trainers making little sound as Harry upped their pace.
“Harry, Fred, and George. We’re brothers.” Harry said, looking back with a convincing half-smile. Riddle didn’t seem like he bought it, but it was true in the ways that mattered.
“Are you now?”
“Mhm!” They were nearing their destination, Harry noted thankfully. He pushed his pace to become a little bit quicker, but not enough to be noticeable.
They now all stood in a half circle around the entrance, and Riddle did the honor of giving the password, with a mocking smile that made Harry want to punch the boy.
“I advise you not to be out when curfew is passed, or I fear I may have to take points. I’ll let this slide for tonight.”
“We thank you very much.” Harry gave a smile and pushed the twins in front of him so his back was the one turned to Riddle last.
When they were finally out of earshot, the twins started cursing quietly over their situation.
“We’ll figure something out, we always do, right?” Harry tried, before knocking on the office door of the Headmaster.
*
“What do you mean?” Harry gasped, seeing the twins' faces pale in his peripheral vision. The man couldn’t be serious.
“While it is curious, messing with time is a very dangerous thing to do. I suggest you go to the bank and procure new identities, then you may enroll in Hogwarts once more and perhaps we could go from there.” The man said again, word for word of what he had said prior and sent the three young wizards into a spiral. “Who knows, you may have been sent here for a reason, after all magic is not completely understood, and this is a magic castle.”
With that repeated, he plopped a to and from portkey in Harry’s hands and butted them out of his office. They had woken him up, but Harry couldn’t find it in himself to care all that much, especially as he was no bloody help in getting them home.
“I’m so sorry guys–”
“Don’t start in on that, Haz,” Fred scolded, his twin instantly backing him up.
“Yeah, we were all in the Room. No one knew what all that stuff was.”
“We’ll be fine, we’ll figure it all out.”
“We should just go to Gringott’s and do what he said and then we’ll just build our way back.”
Harry sighed, nodding. “Do we have to go right now though? I’m still knackered. I don’t feel like we should go to the Room though, not after what happened, and not right now.”
“Yeah, with the infamous Potter luck we'd get sent all the way to the Founders' time.” George snorted, leading the way to the kitchen to find a House-Elf. One would know where an unused room was that they could sleep in for the night.
*
Harry stared at the high ceiling. He knew the twins were still up by their shuffling and breathing. Harry released the breath he was holding in preparation of voicing something he had never before.
“Guys,” Harry started, closing his eyes. The shuffling immediately stopped and it seemed as if even the room was holding its breath. “About Gringotts tomorrow and the new identities. There is a name we can all take. It's something my dad told me in the graveyard Fourth year. I never told anyone.”
“Harry?—” He cut Fred off, worried he’d lose his nerve.
“He said I could take the Peverell name, if anything ever happened. None of the Potters ever used it and it just slowly got forgotten.” Harry said, all too aware of the silence pressing in on him. “I could take the name and Lordship since I am emancipated because of the Tournament. I could blood adopt you into the family as my brothers.”
“Sirius explained a lot of the process, since he blood adopted me when I was a baby. He went in depth of a lot of things. He and my dad did something like blood adoption when they were my age that didn't really blood adopt them because they were minors and they were only trying to make a bond that made them half blood brothers.”
Harry trailed off, deliberately not making eye-contact with either of the twins.
He cleared his throat. “We could also just take a muggle sounding last name and say we're muggle-borns.”
“Harry, if you'll have us, Peverell is sounding pretty good, if we have to resort.” George said, nudging Harry's leg with his foot.
Fred picked up where he left off. “We have our own little secret we've been holding on to for a while.”
“We were considered for a different house, but we knew if we weren't in Gryffindor, there wouldn't be any open arms for us back at home.”
“That, and, we told the Hat we could be great no matter what House we were in so he could stuff his brim.” Fred laughed, soon joined by his twin.
“Let me guess, Slytherin?” Harry peaked open an eye and turned on his side so he was facing them.
“Yeah.” They looked slightly nervous before Harry finally cracked a grin.
“No way,” Fred gasped, connecting the dots that Harry gave them hints of.
“You were considered Slytherin too, I assume?” George asked, his eyes darting between his brothers.
“Yeah, it spewed that ‘you could be great’ shite with me, too. That's why when you said that I guessed right.” Harry heaved a sigh with a grin on his face still. “I had been told that all evil comes from Slytherin, and Malfoy had just been a prat to Ron and I.”
Harry met George and then Fred's eyes with a sheepish smile. “Now that I've grown up a bit, I realize that there are good Slytherin’s, evil Gryffindor’s, daft Ravenclaw’s, and Hufflepuff’s who don't have an inch of loyalty.”
“Isn't that the truth.” Fred snorted, laying down but facing his brothers.
“So, game plan tomorrow is we go to Gringotts, Haz takes Lordship of the Peverell House, blood adopts us, and then we come back here, get resorted, and hopefully all in the same house and dorm, and pray no one realizes that we snatched the Peverell title and name out from under the Potters’ and that we’re time-travelers.” George laid out, looking between Harry and Fred.
“Yep, sounds about right. Though I'm not sure the Potters’ would give a damn since they don't use it.” Harry yawned, fighting his drooping eyes.
“Great,” George flopped on his back between Fred and Harry.
Fred yawned and dropped a heavy hand on his twin's closest shoulder, “we're all going to be fine.”
George murmured a reply back but drifted off.
After he was sure Fred had fallen asleep too, Harry quietly said, “I really hope you're right.”
The room was silent other than the occasional shift of a body and light snoring.
*
Gringotts looked terrifying to Harry the next morning. He had a twin at each shoulder when he walked in.
“May your strength be unmatched, and your enemies suffer.” Harry gave a nod to the Goblin.
“May your gold flow, and your enemies blood be at your feet.” The Goblin nodded with a sharp grin that unsettled Harry to his bones.
“I need to speak with the Peverell account manager, if he is available.”
“Do you have an appointment?” The Goblin's grin sharpened and a knowing look entered his eyes.
“I do not, this was a bit sudden.” Harry said truthfully.
“Follow me.”
Harry breathed a sigh of relief and prayed that they weren't about to be tortured for not having an appointment.
The twins stayed silent at his side as planned.
The Goblin led them into an office after a few sharp knocks on the door and then left them to stand in front of the door before a gravelly voice called for them to enter.
The name plate said his name was Gornuk.
“As you can see my name is Gornuk, and I am the Peverell account manager. However, I do not recognize the three of you, so beware.” The Goblin's voice was guttural, and frankly, terrifying.
“An inheritance test can prove that I am eligible to claim the Peverell Lordship ring and title.” Harry said, his face even, and his spine straight.
“We shall see.” With a wave of his hand, there was a dagger and a piece of yellow parchment in front of Harry. “Three drops of blood will suffice.”
Harry did as told and cut a shallow wound on his thumb, letting the blood drop on the page.
The parchment glowed slightly and then spat out words across the page. His full name, his parents, his date of birth were blurred out. It just had his first name, his birthday but not the year, and his parents names could not be seen.
It showed he was eligible for the Lord Slytherin and the Lord Peverell title.
“Well, isn't this interesting,” the Goblin murmured, a glint coming into his eyes. “Anyhow, it is none of my business.”
He reached into his desk and slid over a small box towards Harry.
“Well, go on. Let's see if the Peverell magic accepts you.” His grin was dangerous, as if he didn't believe that Harry would be accepted.
Harry nodded and picked up the box, startling at the design in the ring. It was a triangle with a circle and a line in it. The Deathly Hallows symbol.
Harry picked up the ring with a calm hand and placed it on his left middle finger. Almost instantly, magic snapped into place, lighting up the room with a hazy light.
“I suppose that answers that question.” Harry said with a grin. “Three more things before we conclude this meeting. One, I would like to blood adopt these boys as my brothers in blood and name. Two, I would like a full description of the finances and everything else you handle for the Peverell accounts. Three, a money pouch with…one hundred galleons.”
The Goblin nodded, disinterested. He placed three blood adoption potion vials on his desk and instructed Harry to give up more blood for two of the vials and twins to give up a bit for one.
“Guess we're about to be blood brothers, Haz. Legally.” George grinned, hooking his arm with Fred's and downing his vial with a scrunched nose.
Fred followed his example, and was soon followed by Harry.
“Eugh.” Fred grimaced. “Nasty stuff, that was.”
Gornuk already had the packet in a folder that was charmed to only Peverels could open and the money pouch on it, on the desk.
“Thank you.” Harry nodded, signing a slip with his new name and moving aside for the twins to do the same. “May your enemies fall at your feet.”
“May your gold flow.”
With that, they were magically butted out of the office, eerily similar to how Dippet did the night before.
Harry just shook his head at the bemused twins.
“So, we're in Diagon Alley, we should get clothes and our supplies for the year. Or we could just not go back?” Harry said, nodding at the Goblins outside of the bank.
“Where would we go? The Weasley’s aren't exactly welcoming to time travelers because they believe it's dark magic.” George pointed out, walking beside his twin.
“Yeah, and I reckon the Potters' are about the same.” Fred added.
“Alright, guess we're going back to school.” Harry grumbled, dragging a tired hand down his weary face.
His magic felt haywire. It was buzzing against his skin and causing his hair to stand on end. The ring felt foreign on his finger, but a good kind of foreign.
His magic felt happy, Harry noted. He sighed, it looked like he was soon going to be getting into magical theory.
*
“Harry, it’s not exactly necessary that we get prank products.” Fred pleaded, sharing a look with his twin.
“Oh, it absolutely is. You think I'm just going to let you guys let go of your dreams? I think not. Plus, we're probably going to be in a House with Riddle. We need all we can get.” Harry's voice was stern as he handed over the money to George with a glare.
“Thanks, Haz,” George smiled. It was something dented and sad. Harry was sure not many people displayed their interest in the twins' choice of entertainment.
“Don't mention it,” Harry flicked his ear with a roll of his eyes. “Besides, it's our money.”
*
They could hear Dippet call for attention. They were standing outside of the Great Hall doors. Harry's magic never did calm down, but it was something he pushed out of his mind for the time being.
“May I introduce the Peverell brothers.” That was their cue, they were supposed to walk in and then get alphabetically sorted.
“Fred Peverell.” He strode up as if he owned the world, with a cocky grin to go with it. His twin was a bit more subdued but it was still there when his name was called.
They were both put in Slytherin almost immediately. Harry's name was next, and the final one.
Well, well. We have the demon twins and Harry Potter, or are you Peverell now too?
Peverell.
You already know where you're going I see.
Yes.
“SLYTHERIN.”
Fred and George clapped Harry on his back as they settled with the fifth years. The twins should probably be with the other seventh years, but it was obvious that they weren't going to be separated.
The brothers were content in ignoring everyone around them and just talking lightly with one another until a blonde head leaned towards them with a handsome grin that didn't fit his face.
“I thought all the Peverell’s died out, but clearly not.” The blonde looked at Harry with curiosity in his eyes. He briefly looked over George and Fred but ultimately dismissed them. “Abraxas Malfoy, well met.”
“Harry Peverell, and my brothers Fred and George. Well met.” The words felt wrong in his mouth, and Harry assumed it had more to do with the bloke he was talking to more than the pureblood etiquette.
The blonde barely spared a look for the twins, just giving a half-arsed nod, and then fully directed his attention to Harry once more.
“Tom Riddle is the male prefect, he can answer any questions you might have about Hogwarts,” Malfoy fluttered his eyelashes and looked like an overgrown peacock. Harry cleared his face of the emotions trying to break loose—astonishment, irritation, anger, the whole lot.
“Thank you, but no thank you. I think we will be fine.” Harry watched Malfoy’s face turn a bright shade of red that showed his anger from his peripheral vision.
“Ah, I am so happy you have met one another!” A wizened man said, stomping his way towards them. “The Peverell's,” he sighed, “It has been a great long while since I heard that name uttered aloud.”
“Misters Abraxas Malfoy and Tom Riddle will be your dormmates, Mister Harry Peverell. I believe Misters Fred and George will be with Orion Black.” Slughorn smiled joyfully.
“Is there a possibility that my brothers and I could share a dorm?” Fred cut in, drawing attention to himself. He was scowling and his face was a slight pink.
“I'm afraid not, my boy,” Slughorn gave an obvious false sad smile that only deepened the twins scowls.
Harry lightly laid a hand on the twins arms and nodded at Slughorn. “Alright then.”
“I look forward to seeing great things from the three of you!” The man hobbled off without waiting for a response.
The rest of dinner ended in a relatively calm manner. Very few other Slytherins reached out and tried to start conversation, and Malfoy got the gist that he wasn't really welcomed after getting clipped answers. He sat and sulked beside Riddle, whose jaw was clenched right.
It was only when Malfoy's hand curled around Harry's wrist when they were going towards the common room, that Harry had had enough.
His wand was digging into Malfoy's throat and his emerald green eyes flashed dangerously. Malfoy still hadn't let go of his wrist and so Harry pushed further.
“Take your hand off of me,” Harry growled, his face full of fury. Malfoy removed his hand and held both hands out. “Next time you'll lose it. Do not ever touch my brothers or me again.”
Riddle stepped in, “Is there something wrong?” His voice was carefully lathered in false concern that made Harry's magic bristle.
“No-”
“He's a bloody psychopath, that's what's wrong!” Malfoy hissed, almost bordering on parseltongue if it wasn't so rushed and sloppy. He was rubbing his neck where Harry's wand had made a slight red marking.
Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes and walked away, the opposite direction of the common room. His brothers were snickering in their elbows, poorly disguising it as coughing.
“You're going the wrong way, the common room is this way,” Riddle slightly jogged to catch up with the trio.
“We were just going to make sure we know where our classes are, no worries. We know where the common room is,” George gave a charming grin that was terribly false.
“I wouldn't want you to get lost, surely you would like an escort?”
“No, it is—”
“I insist.” Something in Riddle's eyes grew sharper with every decline. It was very likely he wasn't used to people wanting to slip through his grasp.
“Alright then, if you are sure,” Harry's grin was sharp and almost manic.
“Thank you,” Riddle gave a boyish grin that was obviously meant to disarm. The brothers didn't fall for it, instead they just gave a nod.
Fred and George led the way, bickering about their ‘safe’ products they would need to make.
“They are inventors, the twins,” Harry said, eyeing Riddle's confused face. “Wickedly awesome, they are.”
“What do they invent?” He seemed mildly curious.
“Oh, I couldn't say,” Harry said, miming a shrug. “They keep it hush hush.”
They halted in front of the Transfiguration room and looked back for clarification that they didn't actually need.
“Transfiguration, correct?” The twins asked in unison.
“Correct,” Tom gave a ‘proud’ smile. “I'm surprised you know this, did Headmaster Dippet give you a tour?”
“I'm afraid not, we were wandering quite a bit last night due to not knowing the layout of Hogwarts so we began to connect the dots of where the classrooms were. Transfiguration was the only one we didn't see, but the Headmaster gave us vague directions.”
“Ah, I see. As a reminder, while I would be most displeased, the professional thing to do if you, or any student, were caught out of your common room by a Prefect or Head Student after curfew the consequences would be detention and loss of points.” There was a steel undertone of his voice that Harry could remember Voldemort using against his Death Eaters at the graveyard.
Too bad they were former Gryffindors though, it didn't exactly hit the same level.
As if they all shared the thought, the brothers blinked innocently at Riddle.
“Of course.” The twins chorused as Harry just nodded, not really trusting his mouth not to say something absolutely ridiculous.
They checked out a few other classrooms before finally giving in to Riddle's direction and going back towards the common room.
Despite not wanting to separate, Harry nodded slightly. “I'll see you in the morning.”
“Bright and early,” one twin started,
“We'll come get you if you don't show up soon enough,” the other finished.
“Yeah, yeah,” Harry snorted and followed to where Riddle was standing impatiently.
“Seems like you three are a tight bunch,” Riddle commented, leading the way towards their dorm.
Orion was still lingering around the common room, so the twins were ‘attempting to get to know him and the others’. Which was practically code for, should this be a guy we prank his guts out, or should we target other people, and who else should be on the pranking list?
“We are.”
“You don't look similar to them?” Riddle tilted his head, as if he wasn't just rooting around for information and was just curiously asking.
“They look like our father, I favor our mother.” Harry gave clipped answers, trying to portray that he wasn't up for an interrogation by the younger version who murdered his parents.
“Ah, I see,” Riddle sounded like he sucked a lemon, Harry noted with no small amount of satisfaction.
*
Harry scowled as he sat down between the twins with a huff.
“If Riddle isn't on the top of the shit list, he is now. I don't care who is at the top, they are second to Riddle,” Harry hissed, scowling at his plate.
“He is, but what'd he do?” Fred asked, putting a bit of eggs and toast at arms length of Harry.
“After tossing and turning for hours, I open up my curtains, and guess who I see staring pensively at me? Tom bloody Riddle.”
George shudders in a theatric way, only half kidding.
“How much creepier can a creep get?” Fred mumbled under his breath, tilting his head down with a frown.
“Right,” George murmured back towards him.
“Anyways, who else is on the shit list already?” Harry asked, feeling a bit better now that he's with his blood adopted brothers.
“Well, Malfoy, obviously. Avery, and Walburga Black.”
“The list is steadily going on,” Fred added, turning towards them.
“It's a good start,” Harry shrugged.
It was a good thing that the Headmaster was going to give them a few days to ‘adjust” to their new surroundings. Not that they needed it, but they were going to leap at the chance either way.
It gave them time to make their pranks. Or Fred and George really, Harry got in the way too much so he settled back to be moral support.
Every now and then, one, or usually both, the twins would explain what they were doing and how they were doing it. Harry listened every time with a fond grin on his lips.
It helped all three of them–Harry, who was never told anything until the last minute, and the twins, who never had anyone but each other who really wanted to know the foundation of their experiments.
By the end of the adjustment period, they had made a load of Canary Creams, Skiving Snackboxes, Ton-Tongue Toffee, Portable Swamp, and WonderWitch Beauty Products. They had spells, a Cloak, and potions, to make sure their pranks were never brought back to them.
Maybe if their victims hadn’t had it coming, they would feel sorry, but as their focus widened, they only found more and more Wixen having distasteful life choices.
Harry had murmured a sentence that quickly became their motto. “ ‘Karma has no menu; you get served what you deserve.’ ”
Goyle and Crabbe were stunted by the Ton-Tongue Toffee after they were found raiding a bruised first year from Hufflepuff’s home goods. They spent two and a half weeks in the infirmary, and the girl found treacle tart in bulk at the end of her bed.
After two more obvious retribution pranks against anyone who was a prat or just an absolute prick with nothing better to do than make others' lives miserable, Harry about burst from laughter as he heard what their group was called. The Marauding Vigilantes.
The twins had curled in on themselves when he shared the name, both because of the irony of the Marauders that was before them, and the fact that they were nowhere near the top of their game. They were still plotting, they were still at the bottom of their plans. If the student body and staff believes this is the climax of their actions, they were in for a hell of a surprise.
They had finished their first ever prank that would change the target into whomever they fancied, without them knowing it. Said target was Tom Riddle. They knew it would work because even if the target didn’t necessarily fancy someone, they had an idea of who they could fancy.
Due to a lost bet, Harry was the testing victim, and they were amused to see a male with brown hair and blue eyes that was some seventh year Hufflepuff. Harry made them vow to never tell a soul or try to set him up, or he would find a way to permanently make them peacocks and sell them to Malfoy.
The prank immediately backfired when Tom Riddle looked exactly like Harry Peverell. The Great Hall was silent enough that the manic voice in Harry's head thought that maybe there was a silencing charm in place, but he could hear the twins ragged breathing on either side of him.
Riddle immediately noticed something was amiss, and his eyes darted from student to student that was looking in-between the black haired Peverell and himself. He turned and fled the Great Hall with measured steps that promised pain if his path was intercepted.
“What the bloody hell,” Harry whispered, his mouth a dark stain compared to his abnormally pale skin, it having lost the healthy tone of when Riddle waltzed into the Hall.
There were still eyes on him, and the twins broke out of their trance to pull the boy out of the Hall and out of the student and staff's astounded vision.
A silencing charm went up and around the three of them as they hurried towards the Room of Requirements, and words poured from their mouths in a confusing symphony.
They had a house elf bring them food and all of their belongings from their rooms, and the Room supplied bedding and comfort items.
Cutting off the twins' guilty rambling, Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, and spoke for the first time since the prank. “Okay plan two, I say we set off a swamp in Riddle’s dorm, but also somewhere else like the common room.”
The twins looked at each other worriedly. They were apparently concerned enough to drop their constant twin-speak, slightly.
“Harry, I don't think you are processing what just happened,” Fred said, his eyes sternly fixed on Harry's face.
“I’m processing it just fine!” Harry countered weakly. “Voldemort's younger self fancies me apparently, but we can't let that distract us! We should do the swamp and then-”
George cut in, “Let us do the swamp, you stay here and go through the erratic thoughts running through that head of yours. We'll be right back.”
Harry sighed but nodded, his eyes slipping shut in surrender.
“Alright then. Be safe,” Harry smiled shallowly, “and don't get caught.”
George gave a huff, and Fred smirked “when” - “do” - “we” - “ever” - “get” - “caught?”
“Go on, then, shoo!” Harry rolled his eyes, and watched the twins scoop up the supplies they would need for the prank.
Harry had sat still for about 10 minutes before he sprang up. His mind roiled with thoughts of Riddle and his parents, and all of the other victims of Voldemort and his death eaters.
Maybe in some other world, Harry could change Riddle. But not this one.
Perhaps the boy wasn't totally Lord Voldemort just yet, but Harry still has all of the memories of what he did. Not to say Riddle is completely innocent at all. He has tortured and killed already in his youth.
How could Harry ever be with someone like that?
Just because Riddle fancies him doesn't mean he has to do something about it.
But what if he decides to get the idea to make a move onto Harry because Harry now knows? Harry shuddered at the thought of it.
Forcing himself to look past the horrid situation, Harry is determined to make himself useful in some way while the twins are out pranking.
Due to his inexperience with handling the pranks completely alone, he decides to leave it.
Harry sits once more and closes his eyes, letting his magic flow through the room as it connects with the Room and Hogwarts itself.
He pictures the twins and his own original belongings, including their trunks, and, going on a whim, the Marauders Map.
Harry wasn't sure if it would work, but if the Room has transported them here, why couldn't it transport their belongings?
Harry focused until he felt a headache throbbing in the center of his forehead. He sighed and his shoulders fell at the sight of no new belongings in the room. The magic caressed his skin in invisible tethers as if it was an apology.
He cast a Tempus and found it had been nearly an hour and a half since the twins had taken off. Harry frowned, his gut sinking. They shouldn't have been gone this long. It was a simple swamp prank.
Harry stood and mourned the loss of the Map, something they would need to experiment to create immediately.
As Harry walked, the sense of unease crawled down his spine and settled in the small of his back, feeling similar to an unwanted touch of a hand.
His frown grew as he took in the silent halls. Usually, even if there wasn't a human in sight, echoes of laughter and the pound of shoes bounced off the walls. There was nothing of the sort, it was unnerving, it was as if the castle herself was holding her breath. It reminded Harry of the calm before a raging storm that destruction followed after.
The halls were empty, and as he murmured the password to the Slytherin common room, without a sound escaping where there should be screaming and the sounds of a swamp, there was just a deadly silence, and he could feel a cold sweat run down his back and his breathing quicken for reasons he couldn’t exactly name.
Something was wrong, so very wrong. He just didn’t know what it was yet. But he was sure he would find out soon.
*
Harry knew before he was even within five feet of the Great Hall doors that he wouldn’t like what he found inside. He had a sick feeling that lingered in the back of his throat, like it was trying to crawl up and into his mouth but failed.
It was too silent, not even the portraits were speaking, too afraid to even look at Harry much less each other. There was no ghost drifting around as there usually is.
Harry couldn’t open the doors without people noticing, not even with the Cloak. Even if he had the Cloak, Harry scowled, remembering he left it back in the Room.
He took a deep breath to try to settle his rattled nerves, and let his magic go. His magic has always been curious, but he was under the impression that if he didn’t have it packed into a tiny box away from everything normal he would be punished. Even when he got to Hogwarts, he never really let it out of that box, never took it off the tight leash that he held close to his chest in effort of trying to protect himself.
Now? He let it go, letting it seep through the walls of Hogwarts to find his brothers, see if they were safe.
His magic latched onto Fred’s first. It was weak, pulsing slowly as it did what Harry remembered as attempted healing. Harry let some of his magic stay wrapped around Fred’s core and dripped into it as he found George just moments later. He was in better shape, but not good either.
He fed magic into the twins even as he tried to figure out what was happening behind the doors. He pleaded for his magic to listen, to connect with Hogwarts and help show him what was going on in her castle.
A murky image appeared on the wall, and he could see the twins on the stone ground with the students cowering back away from a man. The Professors were doing the same, all except Albus Dumbledore.
Harry felt his blood boil as he saw Fred shakily wipe blood from his nose. His skin was pale and his eyes were glazed over in pain.
How could they let this happen to students? Why was Dumbledore just standing there with no care in the world as two students were being hurt?
The man's identity suddenly clicked, as if he knew it, which was weird because he certainly had never seen this man before now. Gellert Grindelwald. The Dark Lord prior to Voldemort, and one that Dumbledore himself dueled and won against.
And his former lover, Harry’s mind supplied. There was no reason he should have known that. Harry would be more freaked out about it later, he had to draw this wizard away from his brothers and the other students before anyone else got hurt even more, or worse, killed.
His brothers would definitely give him hell and back for this, but he drew his wand and sent off a Patronous to them, knowing fully well it would draw attention as a huge glowing stag does.
“Are you both coming to the lake as planned or am I going to be sitting here all day with only the giant squid as entertainment? I think it threatened me just a second ago.”
Harry blew out a breath, he could feel the way his brothers’ magic tensed and they started struggling against their injuries to intercept the man striding towards the door, but Harry took off, flying down the passageways and was breathless by the time he stumbled against the tree, panting heavily.
Oh yeah, his brothers were going to kill him if Grindelwald didn’t do it first. It was stupid to set himself up like that, but he preferred it to the alternative and letting his brothers continue to get hurt. He figured since Dark Lords apparently had a thing for him, the man would go for the bait, take him, and leave.
Turns out, he was right.
*
They were so going to kill him. If he was already dead, Fred and Geroge was going to bring him back just to kill him again.
How could that stupid, self-sacrificing idiot do something like that? But then again it was such a Harry move, they couldn’t be too surprised. Of course the tosser would see that something was wrong and try to take the brunt of it, even if it cost him his life.
Fred and George weren't having it, but Albus-too many middle names to remember-bloody-Dumbledore wouldn’t get out of their way. More than once they had to be stunned and moved back into the Hospital Wing. The toerag could take his ‘greater good’ and shove it up his arse, it wasn’t his sibling, oh wait.
The cruel sneer on Fred’s face as he spat that in the Professor's face was terrifying. No one knew exactly how Fred got that information, but Dumbledore nearly pulled his wand on a student, making him be stunned and carted off to spend the night in the Hospital Wing.
After that Incident, Fred and George were to be watched at all times and not to be unaccompanied by a Head student, a Prefect, or a Professor. When they were unaccounted for, the ghosts and portraits were sicced on them, making their location known to everyone with ears.
No one exactly wanted to know what would happen if the Peverell twins got away and managed to get to their brother. They all knew, without speaking of it at all beyond hushed whispers, that there would be bloodshed.
*
“You are better off believing that he’s dead!” Dumbledore roared, his magic crackling. “Your brother was stupidly captured by the Greatest Dark Lord of all time! There are no silly tricks that could get him out of that situation! His blood has probably already dried among the other casualties!”
“You bastard!–” George lunged forward, his facial expression animalistic. Magic was thrown out, but not soon enough and the red head and Dumbledore were thrashing on the ground. Blood and spittle flew, snarling words were all they could hear, nothing coherent as the student was pulled from the heavily bleeding professor by his brother.
The twins were seething, their eyes promising pain. The great Hall was silent, every student's eyes watching the scene that just happened.
George was covered in Albus Dumbledore’s blood. Fred was holding his twin back with just enough strength to get him to stay there and not go flying at the wizard once more with the force of a thousand cursed bludgers.
“He’s not dead,” George growled, his magic lashing around him and making the candles flicker and the glass dining ware crack in spidery webs.
With one last glare, George spat at the man and turned sharply on his heel, tearing himself out of his brother's hold. Fred didn’t give his surroundings a final glance, just went after his twin.
*
They sat sullenly in front of the Headmaster's desk. George had his arms crossed, and Fred was leaning on his hand that was propped up by the arm of the chair.
“What happened in the Great Hall can not happen again.” The man's voice was serious, as serious as it had been the last four times they were in here for causing a disruption in some way, usually with Dumbledore or the unfortunate individual that tested their ire.
“What,” Fred huffed, humorlessly, “it’s not like you’ll expel us or anything.”
“You’re too afraid of what we might do,” George added, his brother jumping in just as his last word left his mouth.
“What we will do,” Fred’s eyes flash. “Just as soon as we escape this school.”
“You’ll get yourselves killed,” Dippet hissed, leaning forward. “Don’t you think Harry would want you to stay safe? He sacrificed himself so you would–”
“He’s not dead!” Fred howled, coming up out of his seat. “He’s alive, damn it!”
He panted, his eyes burning with hatred, towards himself, towards Dumbledore, towards Grindelwald, towards Dippet. Everyone one that stood in their way to their brother.
“We’re going to get out of this castle, we’re going to find our brother, and then we’re going to burn down his forces.” George promised, leaning towards the Headmaster.
“His location isn’t known,” Dippet whispered, staring into the bright blue eyes that promised death.
“It doesn’t matter.”
*
They pretended to cool down though after the last talk with the Headmaster. They went to classes without fail, and didn't have any more disruptions. It was calm before the storm. And everyone knew it.
The pranks started up again, no one but the pranksters knowing who was behind them, but they targeted everyone. There was no one safe, if they were an arse, they were displayed as an example.
They were harsh. If one did something bad, it was thrown in their face ten times worse and their wrongdoing plastered against the walls for everyone to see. Swamps appeared from nowhere, every other person was turning into canaries as they tried to eat, bloody noses with no cure happened regularly.
Fred and George were really driving it home on a particular Slytherin who just couldn’t keep his nose out of their business. There were no apologies to anyone in the Hospital Wing, there was no stepping up when the Headmaster pleaded for whoever the ‘Marauding Vigilantes’ were to cease and desist.
They brought this on themselves after all. Karma was best served with a hint of cruelty, really.
*
Harry groaned, his body bound and battered. His cheek was pressed against filthy stone, filthy with what spelled like old blood. Harry gagged, he couldn’t stand his own dried blood, much less someone else’s. Unless it was his and the pain of that particular injury hasn’t sent through his hazy mind.
It felt like he was wading through tar, his limbs were heavy, and he could barely even lift his tongue to try and wet his cracked lips. There was no telling how long he had been on the ground.
It was dark, not a hint of light anywhere within the freezing room.
He was in the same clothes he wore the day he sent Grindelwald after himself, and to be honest, he reeked. There wasn’t any excretion on him so he counted that as a positive. It was likely he would need all the positives until further notice.
His magic was sluggish, knotted all to pieces like his Aunt’s failed knitting experiments. His eyelids were heavy, and he was tired. He forced them open enough to squint through his filthy glasses that were holding sturdy under his unbreakable charm.
Underneath his struggling magic, he felt a calling. It felt like something was drawing his attention, beckoning him forward to it.
He couldn’t move though, he was still bound, and he was curious as to what was trying to lure him in like a siren's call.
He took a deep breath and ignored his gag, trying to center himself. His mind was clearing, slowly but steadily. He focused on untangling his magic like he had with his Aunt’s yarn, patient and willing to adapt. It flowed through his limbs as he untangled it, making his toes wriggle and his fingers twitch.
Harry was by no means proficient at wandless magic, he hadn’t quite gotten to that yet, but sometimes his magic did what he wished. He wished he was away from his cousin and his mates and suddenly he was on a building's roof. He was angry that no one ever seemed to see how Dudley and his mates bullied him and hurt him, and wanted his teacher to feel the same humiliation he felt when he came in with rags and bruises and all they believed was his horrid relatives and the woman’s wig was blue!
Harry’s magic listened to him, sometimes, if he wished hard enough. Harry wanted to get out of his bindings and find the reason there was something calling to him in a place he had never been before, fifty something years in the past.
Slowly, his magic rushed throughout his body until it was pooling in his fingers and ventured out like a scared dog and then rushed to get the bindings off. It provided just enough light for Harry to see stairs that led up to a door.
Once Harry was unbound, he crept up the stairs, pausing every now and then to listen for any noises from outside the door. There was nothing and Harry’s magic snuck into the lock and he heard the snick of it unlocking.
The door swung open. Just to reveal a striking blond man with two colored eyes lurking outside the door with his hand just inches from it. There was a syringe in his other hand, his wand was out of sight though.
Harry smirked inwardly. A feral part of him took over, nothing that he ever recognized in himself before. Or maybe he had, and just never acknowledged it.
There was a beat before Grindelwald lunged for the door to slam Harry’s swaying body back down the stairs. Harry lunged first, going for the wizard's neck with his teeth.
*
If anyone but his brothers asked, he would say he didn’t remember anything. The truth is, he remembered everything from the moment he woke up in the dingy cellar. He remembered the man's blood pooling in his mouth as he tore out Grindelwald’s throat like an animal. He remembered pulling the man's broken body to the cellars entrance and kicking his body down the stairs like a discarded toy.
He remembered pouring copious amounts of expensive liquor all over the cellar floor, the floor he came out on, and the surrounding area, and letting it burn with a ‘misplaced’ robe sleeve.
He remembered calling out a hound from the depths of hell and letting it slaughter all of Grindelwald’s forces with a manic grin on his still bloody face.
He remembered a robed entity that cleaned him up with brushes of cold skin and soft words and even softer hands. The entity filled him in on his duties and what his brothers had been up to in the five months he had been gone.
Apparently, Grindelwald had kept him drugged and unconscious the whole time as he had been trying to become the Master of Death through Harry’s body. Not that it would have worked, Death assured.
He remembered Death dropping him off at Hogwarts, in the Room of Requirements with a promise to notify the other two Peverell’s of his return.
He remembered the rushing twins as they tucked him in between them with shaking hands and quivering breaths.
He remembered the cracking of his lips when he stuttered out a sentence with a hoarse voice that had the twins looking at him in an astonished way.
“I have so many ideas of pranks that the Marauding Vigilantes need to try.”