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The Fate Changed Now What?	By : Krysania Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Tom Views: 8638 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I'm not JKR , not own Harry Potter, and consequently earn no money whatsoever.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Tom’s pov

Tom M. Riddle was pacing in the chamber of secrets beyond agitated, Harry was late. Maybe he wasn’t going to come. But no, he had promised that they were going to discuss about their next strategy and Harry always kept his word.
But maybe not this time. . .

Perhaps he had been too final with him. Maybe, if he had been less absolute, Harry wouldn’t have looked at him with such hurt and betrayal and worst with that dead gaze. Nothing could have been worst than this. . .
The Stone was hopelessly beyond reach and everything else was too risky, unless as last resort, and Tom wasn’t even close to admit this, so gaining time would have been simply out of the question. Harry knew him all too well; a single evasive move and they would have the same or even worst, an explosion of rage that could have been deadly.
So no, anything softer than this and Harry would have kept on pressuring, Tom had been on the brink of giving in already, giving anything that Harry would ask, a limitless disaster on it’s on. Nothing good would have ever come from it if he did; only annihilate both of them in the same strike.
Tom know himself all too well, once he had Harry he would prefer to destroy him than ever give him up and yet, for all those vast (and incomprehensive) emotions, there was still the too close possibility that Harry didn’t truly share his feelings, that it was simply an expression of the alarming dependence of the last years, but the odds were that the martyr would chose to stay with him anyway. He didn’t know if he could live with this. . .

. . .So totally unacceptable. . .
No, it was better if Harry was angry with him; maybe after a time he could slip in some way that he simply couldn’t deal with his feelings, yet. His friend could accept that, and after Harry was back to himself he had an eternity to truly win him. Tom wasn’t sure if he lied to himself even now, the memory of those emotionless eyes was killing him.
He cast an unnecessary tempus, for a last check, late, really late, Harry wasn’t coming. Their link so closed off that Tom couldn’t even sense where his friend was. He had done what he must. . . his fists tightened until it drew blood. . .he needed to control himself, Harry was strong. . . despair was out of the question.
Tom had gotten to the point that he started taping at their link, to no result. . .But suddenly their connection was wide open and the only thing he could sense was fury, immeasurable one. It took him a moment to take it apart from his own emotions, but before he could calm and use it to get Harry’s bearings the next emotional wave hit.
Remorse, so strong he cried out falling on his knees. . .too strong. . . the horcrux was fluttering like crazy to get back on its source but he kept on fighting to keep it inside him. When he was sure he couldn’t fight it anymore the struggle stopped.
Tom was on his feet and out of the chamber the same second, he wasn’t clear minded enough to know for sure what happened but he could sense that somehow it was even worst than before.
He ran, as never in his life, for the RoR room, mind flying as to how he could get inside. When he reached it Tom felt the first scrap of relief. The door was appearing and disappearing rapidly, this meant that Harry still had some sort of awareness. He didn’t focus any more thoughts to it, though; at the next appearance he blasted his way within.
Inside, it was a worst mess than London after a bombing and Harry was curled around himself in the centre of everything, looking far closer to death than simply unconscious. Even the magic was dying out, without his friend’s conscious initiative, and that terrified Tom most than anything.
The next moment he held Harry in his arms. His friend’s temperature was low, but not unhealthily so, his pulse slow, but not dangerous so. In short, nothing in his bodily condition was life threatening. It was his mind that worried Tom. . .
This wasn’t the normal kind of unconsciousness. Harry wasn’t responding, even minimally, in either sound or touch, worst, while the horcrux remained intact their link was fading, like Harry.
Tom didn’t waste time with simple Legilimency; he dived straight to the bond. His first reaction was relief; Harry’s mind wasn’t truly fading, like if he was dying, it was simply receding to itself to avoid the pain. At a closer look the worry returned and increased, this was too concentrated to be an involuntary action. Harry was doing this to himself deliberately.
What it fallowed was a literally fight for Harry’s mind and soul.

Harry’s current mindscape was a pleasant surprise though it took him a moment to recognise the place. It was their compromise of the RoR room, an open space with no furniture, except their couch and fireplace, and an open sky. But the comfort ended there. The room was cast in odd misty shadows with only a few embers in the fireplace breaking the numb greyness. It looked deserted. Even the sky was adding to the miserable mood, not with the usual greyness of a heavy storm, but the much duller one of pollution. It was near impossible for Tom to find Harry in this. . .
“Harry?” he shouted frantically, again and again, while he searched into the mist.

Finally, he spotted a tiny move and focused there all his attention.

“Harry?”
It was indeed Harry, the mists parted a bit and he was able to get a closer look at his friend. Harry was hunched defeated against a wall, dressed in the worst of his Dursley rags, yet, had his most intensely stubborn expression. Tom barely held back an oath; he had his work cut for him.
“You shouldn’t come here, Tom.” it was said in a matter of fact, emotionless, voice.
Tom discovered he couldn’t even try to mock Harry for this.

“You knew I would.” still, it got out far kinder than he expected.
Harry slumped even worst against his wall.
“I know,” he sighed, “I was both dreading and hoping for the chance to see you one last time.” Harry’s eyes widened and his face paled at the admitted weakness, looking more vulnerable than, probably, ever in his life.
Tom’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, hmmm, it seemed that so deep inside their linked minds it was impossible to truly lie at each other and themselves, he needed to be extra careful.
“You don’t really believe that I will leave you to destroy yourself?” he asked conversationally.
Something very warn passed from Harry’s eyes, but only for a second and then refroze in steely resolve.

“Not this time Tom, I tried, but I simply cannot go on anymore, I almost killed Leonard today.”
Tom hated and was terrified of that resolve; his only chance on convincing Harry to relent was to break him and that icy calmness, to destroy his peace with his own death. It was time to leave games aside for now.
“I couldn’t care less about your grandfather, the whole world can burn away and if you’re okay I would be too.”
Harry’s eyes got alight and he blushed scarlet.

“Psycho.” he muttered, but it sounded more than fond.

That only lasted for an instant though, the next second he restarted the fight.

“You may not care, but I do, I would rather die than hurt someone blameless. This is the right thing.”
Tom’s control over his anger, never his strongest point, tested severely hearing this utter nonsense. Still, with supreme effort, he reined in it, for the moment.
“Care to explain how exactly you concluded that turning yourself catatonic and leaving everything we built behind is the right thing?” he asked archly.

Harry opened his mouth, probably to shout him that he heard nothing, but for once Tom was faster, he had angered Harry, but not enough, not yet.

“And don’t you even dare telling me that’s because of the slight chance of hurting an idiot that angered you someday in the future,” you idiot martyr, wasn’t said but heard alright.
From Harry’s expression he certainly didn’t care for his tone.

“Damnit Tom, you didn’t hear anything that I said, this is not something that may happen in the future, it happened already and will probably happen again and again.” he took a deep breath and continued in a much softer tone.

“I know that you care and will miss me, but you will be okay, you will have the whole world at your feet soon enough.” it was quite apparent that while he believed it on some extent he was mostly trying to convince himself.
Tom had enough of this idiocy, he exploded and the words spilled out of his mouth, for the first time in his life, without his control.
“Will you stop with this shit?” Harry’s mouth hangs open upon hearing him swear.

“If you believe that I will ever accept losing you then your intelligence has taken an unacceptable dive. . . don’t even think about making me to state the reason.” he let the last vestiges of his guard down, for a second, to avoid misconception.

“Just take my bloody hand and let’s leave here before we get stuck.” he didn’t use the word please but it was more than implied.
Harry merely looked at him for a second, beyond shocked but with the hint of something warmer than the sun, then the moment was gone and he exploded in such a furious rage that the whole mindscape trembled like under the strongest earthquake.
“You have no right to bring this up, you hear me, not after today, not ever again. Now get out my mind.”
It was impossible to not feel Harry’s pain, at this moment and place in time it was his own, still Tom managed to not stumble and play it far calmer than he felt.

“If you mean this morning, it was just a miscalculation, no one else is crazy or masochist enough to ever take your place, nor I wish it, and you know it.”
Harry didn’t even deign to react in the insult; he simply glared at him, thoroughly unimpressed.
“I don’t believe you, you know me better than this. I can survive with any rejection, even yours, just fine.” he told him bitterly.

“You win nothing by ignoring the true problem.” the words were more fuelled by anger than conviction.
Tom glared right back, Harry was dreaming on if he believed, even for a second, that he could buy that he meant that little to the other, but he didn’t correct him, there was going to be time for this after he snapped Harry from this self made hell.

“Very well, if you are so afraid of yourself we can move somewhere alone until we fix the problem.”
Harry looked truly gobsmacked with this.

“You meant right now, to abandon the school before graduation and your ambitions for however long, you kidding me?”
Tom admitted, to himself at least, that it was a stretch for Harry to believe him. Still without other options in sign, this was going to be.
“Yes, for as long as it takes.” he confirmed.
The surprise didn’t last long. . .
“I don’t believe you.” Harry stated. “The moment we will be out you will take it back and find something else, so, thank you for the offer, but I prefer my own solution.”
Damn your stubborn head to hell!

Tom swore inside with feeling, yet he tried semi calmly once more.

“Harry. . .?”
Huge green eyes met his, desperate but determined.

“Leave it Tom, the matter is over. Now get out of here before I destroy you.”
Tom knew that tone, Harry meant this, and he could do it easily too, as, at this moment, he was anchored at nothing but Harry, still, he did nothing to disentangle their souls and minds.

“How about no?” he smiled giving the other a taste of his medicine.
There was another earthquake.

“Tom, get out of here. . .Now.” Harry wasn’t even trying to hide his despair anymore.

“The seal is closing; you will get trapped here forever too.”
Tom smiled again, all or nothing, time to gamble.

“You know the answer to this.”

As another tremble was shaking Harry’s mind he sat on the couch and lay back completely relaxed.

“So Harry, what will it be?”
Harry looked at him, at what it looked like centuries, but was probably a single moment.

“Damn you to hell and back, Tom, you utter bastard.” he grabbed Tom’s hand.
~*~
Tom opened his eyes and blinked again to complete awareness. He met Harry’s, fully there, intelligent, eyes for a moment and held him tighter as his friend lost his battle with exhaustion, after all the terrible amount of magic he had done.
Once he was sure that Harry was truly asleep he laid him on a bed to rest. He had only until his friend’s awakening to work out a truly viable solution, if he didn’t, the next step was to keep his informal promise, (until the end of vacation at least,) but he was far from without options.
Turning to leave, his eyes fell on Leonard (he had forgotten him for a moment,) and a chilling smile stretched his lips. The elder Potter was proving himself more player than he had given him credit so far and there was no real way to predict what he could know, so time to find out what really happened. Also, the last time he checked Leonard was Dumbledore’s man; he couldn’t completely discard the possibility of a trap.
Leonard lay on the floor and the unnatural stance of his body indicated more than a few broken bones and he trembled in apparent shock. Unwilling or not, Harry had done him a thorough job. . .
. . .And the look of sheer terror at his face was gratifying too. . .
Tom didn’t waste time in pleasantries; unless Leonard had an excellent reason for this, he was going to end obliviated or dead, he grabbed him none too gently and broke into his mind.
“Wha?”
Surprisingly Potter had an adequate mental shield, nothing he couldn’t get past in few moments, but it raised his estimation considerably. So did his reasons for tonight, and if his opinions, and some facts, irritated him it wasn’t worth it to kill him right now.
Useless. . .The whole thing was mildly interesting and it could prove valuable to the future, but for now it was totally useless. Tom dropped Leonard where he found him and draw his wand to obliviate him when he noticed something interesting.
The reactions he had chalked up to shock were far stronger than that and were intensifying by the second. Maybe just maybe? Something like hope flared inside Tom.

“Harry is dying and as you owe him multiple life-depts your own magic is acting against you, when, if, he dies you are going to follow him.”
The surprise was enough that it snapped Leonard from his terror.

“But how? He freed me from them.”
Tom glared heatedly, the moments were crucial and he would much prefer to just take what he needed to know, as fast as possible, but this could have too many benefits to not use some delicacy. Harry’s relative, he reminded himself and answered the question.

“Harry may have released you but did you release yourself?” he pointed out.
That stopped Leonard to think, for a moment. He gulped.

“I, no, I owe him too much. Tell me how to help, please?”
The Gryffindor radiated sincerity, Tom didn’t have much choice; the reaction wouldn’t have been that strong if Leonard wasn’t capable to help.

“The only cure to Harry’s condition is the Philosopher's Stone. Do you know or suspect the Flamels’ hiding place?”
A good deal of Leonard’s eagerness died out.

“I have heard of the Flamels, of course, but never met them.”

That was fallowed immediately by another sharp shot of pain. Leonard tried to protect his dignity by not screaming out, but his face was rather telling, and even more so, the desperate way he held up his belly.
Tom didn’t need to pressure more, after the pain seemed to ease Potter glanced briefly at Harry and caved.

“My family has a summer house in Godric’s hollow, the immediate neighbours to the left are a middle-aged couple named Nick and Nell Fleming. There is a possibility to be those you seek, they moved there at the start of the war. . .”
Tom didn’t ask for more information, as Leonard prattled out he eased into his mind slowly and skilfully so to not gain the Gryffindor’s attention. The faces into his memory didn’t match exactly the photos he had seen in Harry’s time, but the differences were rather simple, different hair colouring, facial hair and subtle glamours. . . it was a match. . .
He returned his attention on Potter exactly as the other finished with:

“. . .I will take you there.”
Tom almost laughed at the Gryffindor’s face; Leonard’s attempt at manipulation was pathetic. Still he only responded with a court:

“I know the way.”
Leonard’s face crumbled.

“You won’t kill them, will you?” he asked between horror and childlike faith.
Tom didn’t bother answering him. He consecrated on calling his followers (and Granger) and spent the next, tortuously wasted, five minutes ignoring the Gryffindor and his increasing pathetic pleas.
Alphard with Minerva were the first to arrive. Tom restrained himself to a scatting glare on Alphard, the silent promise of a later punishment, and not a word to Minerva. Her angry hiss to Leonard:

“What did you do, you idiot?” added to that and was mildly amusing.
Thankfully for his, much, limited, patience Abraxas, Zevi and Granger were there promptly. Hermione took one look at the room and her eyes filled with understanding and tears, but she was intelligent enough to not contradict his already given orders in the slightest. He trusted her enough to fill the others in at an acceptable manner.

“Heal him,” he indicated Leonard, “but don’t let him leave here until I return, if he lied I will deal with him. As for Harry, keep him asleep at any cost, I want constant guard, of at least two, through the night.”
The others nodded their understanding, knowing much better than dare to disagree now. He turned to leave, but changed his mind mid-step, Harry had been right; Voldemort met his end from been careless.

“Abraxas, with me.”
“Wait.” Leonard cried out.
Tom was tempted to simply curse him before leaving but the very real threat may have loosened the Gryffindor’s tongue to an impending trap. He turned barely his head.

“Speak.”
Leonard dug clumsily on his bag and dragged out a shimmering cloak.

“Here,” he said determinedly, “this isn’t like most cloaks; it will help you to avoid the traps, so you won’t need to kill anyone. I’m giving it to you in Harry’s name.”
Well, well, Tom would have recognised this magical signature anywhere, it was making a ridiculous kind of sense, where else could have been the third hallow but on the other Perevell descendants. . . Granger’s gasp of recognition was almost a direct insult to his intelligence. How could he miss something so simple? Leonard had been proven rather cunning by giving him the cloak, but in reality not giving it to him at all.

He didn’t thank the other, but offered a nod of acknowledging all the same.
When he returned back there was an added topic to talk about with his idiotic hero.

Alphard’s pov

Alphard kissed Minerva again and again, having lost count of how many times he had done it already. The only fleeting concern, was making sure to not stray from her lips, it could be too easy for things to get derailed after that.
He didn’t want things to get too far, not tonight. Minnie wasn’t from those girls, engaged since birth, that tried to live up before marriage with their betrothed’s tolerance, or without. She was special. . .Alphard had known her and had a very soft spot for her, since way back; he just never dared to hope having a real chance with her due by circumstances.
Now everything was different, Minerva was going to become his wife and by his own choice, not his father’s. That didn’t mean he didn’t plan to make love to her before marriage, if she was amendable, but it wasn’t going to happen in a dark alcove near the common room and definitely, not this night, not when both of them were so tense.
Minerva had brought someone to meet Harry tonight. She hadn’t told him who and he didn’t ask, but it wasn’t that difficult to guess. Unless he or she was a teacher, that only left Alastor Moody, John Lupin and his cousin, the only of her friends left in the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
With such odds it wasn’t even worth it to bet and that left him with a queasy stomach. He hadn’t talked with his cousin for years and years, but he never wished him harm. Harry, had been brooding, at best, the last months, but, tonight, since returning from the hospital, his nerves had reached such an intense, rare, bad point, that was worst than Tom’s, due to unpredictability, God helped Leonard if he provoked him.

Alphard was sitting into hot nails and he didn’t even know the details, for which one to worry more, the cousin or the dear friend. .? In either case he had a, very, very bad feeling. . .
~*~
Suddenly, his mark started burning with such intensity that he stiffened and barely held back a pained cry. Minerva, bless her and curse her, was immediately worried.

“What is it Alphard, please, let me see?”
Before he had the chance to object Minerva had raised tenderly his sleeve. There was no cry of fear, or indignation, upon seeing the inflamed skin, only a tiny inhalation, and a soft, too soft,

“Oh Alphard;” which he really feared that it was pity.
A flush of embarrassment covered his face and he lowered the sleeve right away. It wasn’t that he was ashamed, or regretting, upon swearing himself on Tom, far from it; he never lost his admiration to the man, even after the foray to the future. Instead, his continuing friendship with Harry and their decision to form a common side made that admiration, and his dedication and loyalty, to grow.
No, his problem was that while Minerva was free and able to determine her future, (if she had already sworn her allegiance to Dumbledore she wouldn’t have it that easy to change sides, or even think to go out with Harry,) he couldn’t offer her the same thing and feared that he was going to lose her from that.

“Look, I must go now.” he told her hastily.
“It doesn’t bother me, Alphard.” her voice was still soft but there was a ring of steel underneath.
He blushed again, to the tips of his ears, this time from pleasure.

“I really must go.” he told her once more.
And he really should, if he judged by the intensity of the call, Tom was so angry and the crisis so extreme that he was going to be lucky, he and the others, if he didn’t end cursed with crucio or something even more imaginable. Very deliberately he didn’t think on what the emergency could be about.
“I’m coming with you.” there was no hesitation, or softness, whatsoever. The steel blade of her will was out, deadly and shining.
“What, are you crazy?” Alphard didn’t know if he was stunned or totally afraid.
“Alphard,” she started again in that patient tone that meant danger,

“We both know that this is about Harry, he is my friend too, I’m coming with you.”
There was no disputing of her words. If Tom was too angry he would take the full responsibility, she was enough in his favour to get away, for this at least, and in the very end it was better if she knew, exactly, where she gotten herself into, so she would make an informed decision before marrying him. . .and yes he blamed Harry for such Gryffindorish ideas.

“Alright,” he said at least, “we better hurry.”

They started running.

~*~
A look on Tom’s face nearly buckled Alphard’s knees from sheer terror; his Lord looked like he was carved from stone, all ruthless determination and freezing composure, only the manic glint to his eyes indicated any emotion, or that everything wasn’t lost.
He needed that reassurance. Harry was laid on a bed, pale as death and unconscious, his stupid cousin, Leonard, a mess on the floor pleading for someone’s life in an agonising stutter. Alphard had been afraid, but this was worse than his fears. He had no idea what to do.
Minerva’s reaction was much more open and intense; she grew pale as Harry, for a moment, and berated Leonard with such fury that it looked truly scary. It also got her a brief approving look from Tom, not that she noticed. The Black heir was truly relieved though, she was indeed ‘one of them’ even without been marked. It had been a gamble to bring her here but it paid and she wasn’t going to get punished.
As Tom left with Brax, and an anxious Zev hurried out to bring forth some stronger medical potions from his lab. Minerva wasn’t doing so alright, some of her strength seemed to be leaving her and she leaned at his side for a moment.

“Harry is going to survive this, isn’t he?”
Alphard smiled for her.

“Of course he will; he is strong and Tom will stop at nothing to save him.” he reassured her and himself.

He wanted so much to believe it, he believed it. . .
“Any-thing?” Leonard croaked out.
Alphard’s smile turned a bit nasty.

“Yes anything.” he had the pleasure to see his cousin squirming a bit, but the cruel moment passed, and he approached Leonard quickly and helped him, with Minerva’s aid, carefully on his feet.

“Where else are you hurt, except your broken ribs and bruised mouth?” he asked clinically.
“Al-phard, I. . .” his cousin tried to speak, again, looking imploringly.
Alphard hardened his heart. He may not know all the facts, but there was something undisputable: Harry wouldn’t have punched unprovoked and also, it looked like his friend was the worst off of the two, which meant that there could have been a trap. . .

“Save it,” he said harshly, he couldn’t afford to care, yet he did. His hand tightened on the other’s arm.
“What happened, Leonard?” Minerva asked softly, and a bit kinder, but not less demandingly than the first time.

“You’d given me your word that you had no intentions of harming him?” the disappointment was palpable.
Leonard winced, but before he could answer Hermione cut them abruptly from her place besides Harry.

“Healing first and then questions. . .”
Alphard barely managed not to sneer. Seriously, did she have to be so bossy and patronizing? Like he and Minnie didn’t care at all for Leonard, never mind Harry? The bitter joke was already on his lips,

‘Yes, my Lady.’
But he couldn’t. Hermione did her best to stay in control of herself and the situation, yet, she looked almost like a snared rabbit, with her hand trembling on Harry’s brow, and he found himself nodding in quiet agreement. Minerva sent him an approving glance.

“Quieter,” he said in an afterthought, “we’ll wake him.”
Hermione calmed down and came to help them, the three of them put Leonard on a couch, fixed the bruises and the smallest of his hurts, even set some of the bones, Alphard, being a good sport, accio’d the missing teeth. Still, in common silent agreement, they sat close to Harry and kept the interrogation for after Zev’s return.
Alphard used the quiet to think. There was no doubt in his mind for Harry’s affliction; he had seen the symptoms on him before, the damn book had been in his family in generations, plus his father had made him memorise it completely before he ended his third year. So there was no question on the how, the important question was ‘will the Stone be enough?’ He believed in Tom, but he was scared too. . .
still there was no point in talking about it openly, Hermione was aware of everything, Leonard would be a liability, even if he cared, and he would rather avoid scaring Minerva with the darkest details. . .
. . .Another question was the cloak; Leonard’s offer confused him a lot. Why would his cousin present the Potter’s most precious family heirloom? As far as he knew Leonard had no idea of the family bond, so what changed? And the weird question . . . Tom’s lenience. . . Why would his Lord spare him, Harry’s family or not, if he attacked? Something had happened tonight. . .
After a few more minutes Zevi arrived and fixed the harder problems, organs and the most delicate bones. It was time to get his answers. . .The night was going to be long anyway. . . A few silence charms and light dampers around Harry’s bed later the interrogation started.
“What happened with Harry, can you describe it to us?” Hermione started, looking calm as you please.
“I didn’t come here to hurt Harry, or attacked him in any way; my purpose was to ask for his protection.” Leonard started,

“Neither was his intention,” he continued, “I carelessly insulted him and he socked me a good one.” a small pause for breath,

“the explosion came later, he asked me for some information and my answers enraged him, but it was more against himself than anything else, hence the whole mess.” he gestured around the room.
For a few moments everyone was pensive to digest the information.
“Why did you need his protection?” Zevi asked almost gently.
Alphard nodded discreetly his agreement. After all, whatever may happened, Harry would still want the Potters safe. Not, that they really could take any decision, or needed to; Harry was going to be okay, like always, Tom was going to fix him, the rest were just fears. He forced his eyes away from Harry’s prone form and to his cousin.
His cousin looked nervous for a moment then he straightened his back.

“My father, has been Grindelwald’s prisoner since the previous summer after he got caught spying. So, it’s almost certain that one of his next attacks will be against my family, especially after yesterday.”
Alphard swore up a storm inside his mind, but he kept his face blank. He wanted to say many things but he could promise nothing, so better keep his silence for now, nevertheless, keeping completely indifferent was impossible, so he clasped, again, his cousin’s arm. Leonard looked at him with something like little relief, maybe in time they could start to call each other family again. . .
Minerva’s reaction was immediate and far more vocal.

“Oh Godric!” she softly wailed.

“I’m so sorry Leonard.” she instantly covered her mouth with her hands and looked guiltily at Harry, in case she had awoken him. Thankfully the charms held strong, she hadn’t.
Leonard relaxed with her acceptance.

“I know you care, Minnie, sorry for not telling you earlier.”
Minerva wasn’t that easily placated, and hit Leonard upside the head.

“Why you didn’t? You idiot. . .”
Leonard ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Ouch, I’m really sorry, okay, and I couldn’t tell you. . . Truly, would you had believed me if I had spoken against your mentor?”
Minerva glared daggers.

“Of course I would.” she stated frustratedly and it was obvious that she wasn’t adding something more colourful only due to her good breeding.
Leonard glared as well.

“How on earth could I have guessed that you’d have ended in this company?”
Minerva rolled her eyes.

“You couldn’t, but you should have known that, at the very least, I would have heard you out over anything.”
Leonard flushed, nodded and looked thankful when Hermione interfered. . .
“Can we get back to the point if you don’t mind.” she told them sharply. When both Minerva and Leonard nodded she continued.

“Leonard, you said something about Professor Dumbledore’s involvement, care to elaborate?”
Leonard looked more than eager to share this.

“Yes very much so, Professor Dumbledore sent my father to spy at Grindelwald, but totally deserted him when he got caught. Yesterday, after I saw how close they were, it became apparent that my family had been betrayed and my only chance was Harry’s protection.” his tone at that was rather proud.

“He believed me and I didn’t want to hurt him. . . believe me please” he concluded looking both defiant and contrite at the same time.
Zevi smiled.

“I believe you, and knowing Harry, he must have offered something more than simple protection.”
Leonard’s eyes got wide and met every pair of eyes in acute disbelief.

“Yes, to try and free my father.” seeing neither surprise nor alarm his voice got high, “Are you crazy, all of you, this is Nurmengard?”
Alphard laughed.

“Not really, we just know Harry, you will get used to.”
Leonard made his impression of a fish again and Zev had to snap him from it.

“You said something about protection?”
Leonard nodded.

“Yes, I need a safe place for my mum and my little sister, Annette,” he bit his lips, “I know it will came all of a sudden and you will probably not believe me, but Harry told me that he was going to ask you to put up with us.” he looked down.

“I suppose that now it’s impossible.”
Zev shook his head.

“No, not impossible, if everything is alright by tomorrow it could be easily arranged, lets hush the details out.”
Leonard beamed.
Alphard let them talk things out while he tried to sort himself out. Leonard was sincere in everything he had told them, else Tom would have already killed him, so it was a safe bet that come tomorrow, if everything went well, (and they damn well better be) his cousin was going to be well on his way to be a part of their circle.
He couldn’t help but have some very mixed feelings to the whole matter.
On one part he was ecstatic to have his cousin back, he had missed him, and he was in complete agreement with Minerva’s every word. Leonard should have told him, no matter what happened back then, he, little Annette, aunt Dorea and uncle Charlus were family he would have helped however he could, even if no one else in the family did. More, uncle Charlus had never said a bad word to him, despite everything, and he would have helped on that alone. His uncle certainly didn’t deserve this end and the thought of aunt Dorea and Annette as Grindelwald's targets was making him sick.
On the other, he had loved Minerva since the first time she had scolded him for a prank yet couldn’t help but laugh at it, and had wanted her almost since he first discovered what it meant to desire. He never made a move then, in part, because of her friendship with Leonard, (you don’t mess up with family,) and continued to that vein from respect to their closeness, it was well possible that they could marry one day, while Alphard was scared shitless of his father’s reaction.
After his cousin got engaged to the Longbottom Heiress the decision had been taken, the talk with Harry was just the culmination, he was going to fight and get his chance with her, no matter what, even if it meant that he would anger his Lord, never mind his father.
Yet, here was Leonard, too close for Alphard’s comfort on his Minerva and talking so intimately; he was the real threat, not the old geezer. But this time he wasn’t going to simply step back, he was going to fight, and if his cousin dared to try and take her from him he was going to pay.
Alphard rubbed the weariness from his face and his eyes fell on Harry. He couldn’t help a wave of shame for his disregard, here, his friend was dying and he was contemplating possible problems in his love life, not even factual ones. . .Never mind that if Harry died no one else here was going to survive either. . .he wasn’t thinking about it. . .
But he couldn’t hold back a shudder to the thought that Harry did that to himself intentionally. Unfortunately, at second thought, it didn’t surprise him at all, based on things and Harry’s nature. That was what bothered him the most. . .
That he had some inclination on his friend’s problems, had seen the clouds gathering for a couple months, or more, and yet had done nothing, leaving it to his Lord to deal with the problems. The knowing worrying looks between Hermione and Zevi indicated the same thing.
Well, that wasn’t going to be the case from now on. While he hoped with his whole heart that Tom was going to fix him, like always, he wasn’t going to leave Harry’s care only up to him anymore. Harry was his friend too, and friendship wasn’t only having fun, he wasn’t going to lose him, just like that, not if he could help it. Salazar, he sounded worse than princess!
There was and a tiny bit of self service, of course, if Alphard was completely honest, he would rather not die at Tom’s hands, but, the true immediate, distress was about Harry.
Minerva seemed to have similar thoughts, as the discussion had lulled; she had dropped completely out of the talk and kept looking sadly at Harry. She wasn’t crying, but Alphard was close enough to notice a reddish tint to her eyes, so, he took tenderly her hand and was rewarded with her squeezing back.
Leonard looked insistently on their joined hands and Minerva blushed. Alphard bristled angrily, if his cousin dared to stuck his nose and destroy him this, he was going to kill him, shared blood or not.
That reaction made him start thinking again. Leonard may have been tactless to boot, but Harry wasn’t the type to easily resort on violence, no matter how livid. It was more likely to shred someone in pieces with a few words, at his worst. So what the hell did he said?
“What did you said at Harry?” he asked sharply.
Leonard stopped looking at their joined hands.

“I don’t understand?”
Alphard barely held back a dark laugh. Leonard of all people was trying mind games. . .

“Of course you do, what it was that made Harry hit you? It’s not his style.”
Everyone’s attention was on this now. Leonard didn’t say a word; he involuntary raised his eyes on Granger and lowered them immediately, ashamed. It was enough. . .
“You picked on Granger. . .?” this time the laugh was irrepressible.

“Please. . .How daff can you be, you’re pretty lucky to be alive.”
“Leonard, you didn’t!?”

Minerva asked him sharply, looking totally appealed at the idea.
Alphard couldn’t help a heavy look, his love was so beautiful, all teacher like! Still, Leonard couldn’t make a stupider mistake, Granger of all people? Really!
Leonard blushed, an ugly colour, and nodded once.

“I’m sorry.”
Minerva looked disappointed but didn’t say another word, while Hermione, the injured party in question, looked merely sad, but the surprise was, the usually calm, Zevi who was livid.

“I want the exact words.” he demanded.
Leonard was Gryffindor above anything else, he raised his head.

“I, really, meant no insult at all, you, Minnie and Alphard know better than anyone that there is mixed blood in my line.” he met every pair of eyes sincerely.

“I just pointed out that it didn’t add for Riddle, publicly muggle hater, to want to marry a muggle born, except for Harry’s influence, especially considering their bond.” he tried to put it diplomatically.
Hermione blushed scarlet, from anger or embarrassment, Alphard couldn’t really tell.

“It will be better if you left things you didn’t know about, alone.” she told him with dignity yet an underline of tension.
Leonard looked truly remorseful.

“I’m really sorry Miss Granger; it wasn’t my intention to anger, hurt, or insults you in any way, but, well, you don’t look the traditional kind.”
Alphard tensed, this could be taken as an insult even if it wasn’t meant as one. But Hermione wasn’t the type to be cowed either.
“It’s none of your business, but I’m not.” Hermione told Leonard with narrowed eyes.
Leonard was especially thick tonight and he pressed.

“Then, I don’t get it, why would you mix yourself in something like this?” he complained more to himself than Hermione.

“Neither Harry’s reactions nor yours make sense with what I have seen the previous year. . .Unless. . .Merlin. . .” his eyes became huge, “You’re a trio!” he exclaimed and covered his mouth with his hands, totally petrified.
Alphard couldn’t help himself, he laughed like a loon.
Three things happened simultaneously to his ill-timed reaction.

Hermione finally had enough and she punched Leonard right to his face. . . hard. . . Minerva started lecturing in a stern voice. . . and Zevi sent a nasty curse towards him.
Alphard barely managed to dodge. . .

“What’s your problem?” he gritted out.

He really didn’t get it, what caused Zevi to transfer his ire from Leonard directly at him? Zev was supposed to be the calm one. . .
Zevi merely glower at him.

“Like you don’t know.”
Oh. . .

He shivered a bit under that murderous glare.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that, it was a joke.”
Zev didn’t relent a bit, looking more than ever like that nasty git, Snape. . .

“A joke with consequences, maybe if you didn’t blabber around, things wouldn’t have gone so crazy tonight.”
Within the corner of his eye he noticed that Minerva and Leonard had frozen with shock by hearing this, but for once he was so investigated into taking his blood back he didn’t even care.
Alphard wasn’t usually bothered with insults or digs, (and Zevi was usually far too refined to use them,) but this time it was totally unfair and he was crazy with worry.

“For your information I didn’t share that particular joke with anyone but you and Brax. Who knows, if you had fixed that specific problem other problems may not have been problems at all.”
Instantly he regrets it, even if he doesn’t drop their staring match. It’s not like Zev truly means his words, either, or blames him for Harry’s condition, that’s merely the stress that finally got too much, even for him. But before he could even consider apologising Granger’s soft authoritative voice took his choice.
“Both of you, stop at once, you will wake Harry.”
A fast assessment at Harry’s direction (thankfully still sleeping) and a look at Zev’s stricken face, and the apology was almost easy.

“I’m sorry, Zev, I didn’t mean it.”
Zevi’s apology came just as fast.

“It’s alright I didn’t mean it too. . .”
After all, Alphard mussed, poor princess had it anything but easy. Harry’s matter aside, to have the woman of your dreams constantly close but forever out of reach hurt a lot. Not that he blamed him for never taking the chance; it had taken almost everything he had to confront Harry about Minnie, and he knew logically that the worst possible outcome could have been the statement that he wanted to marry her, nothing worse. . . The same scenario with Tom went beyond imagination. . .
Everything quieted again and they returned standing guard.

An hour passed tortuously slow and Alphard started comparing the girls to pass the time.
There were many common things as well as differences. Both were tallish for women, Minerva a bit taller, both had dark hair and eyes, thought his love’s was much darker, Minerva’s hair was a dark river, when she wasn’t having it in a matron’s (but so sexy) knot, While Hermione’s was a mass of untameable curls. Both had beautiful faces but while Hermione’s was a classic oval, his Minerva had sharp almost elfish features.
Both were wilful and stubborn. . . Alphard admitted this with a smile, as Minerva managed to stay awake, by sheer will alone, for all that her head had started leaning to his shoulder in her tiredness. . . and in a clinical description they sounded almost completely alike.
The funny thing was that while Minerva looked the most conventional one it was the other way around.
Yet, the best way for someone to spot the differences were those similarities. Both were excellent scholars but while his Minerva was capable of having fun outside of academics, her amazing progress and enthusiasm to Quidditch only a usual example of this, Hermione’s preferred method of relaxation on the other hand were her debates with Tom. . .
. . .Alphard remembered countless evenings, since the previous year, in the common room with Hermione and Tom passionately comparing notes in obscure magical theories, that most of their classmates barely understood a tenth of it and hardly that, (Alphard had a better understanding than most, but still needed to read up as a rule afterwards,) with Harry slyly and gently edging them on. . . a most domestic scene. . .
Alphard could and would bet, given the chance, that the main reason that Zev and Hermione reacted so violently with Leonard’s statement was the truth it held. For even a tri-way relationship didn’t need to be sexual, they had proved that the previous year. For while Tom flirted extendedly with her, he never got it to the point to truly exclude Harry, not even now.
And Hermione, while obviously head over heels, never moved past the subtle cues that Harry instinctually and unknowing kept on giving her, not even when Tom pressured for more. . . making it clear as day, that while she was in love with his Lord the person she loved most in the world was Harry. . .
Yes, Alphard thought, as he regarded Hermione, perched on Harry’s bedside, fatigued with exhaustion, yet, keeping her eyes open from sheer stubbornness and love, a tri-way relationship was exactly what was needed. (Never mind Zevi’s objections, his friend may knew people but Alphard knew girls.)
Not only for Harry’s needs, (which came first,) but for Hermione as well. . . He had a feeling that even if Harry died right now and somehow Tom didn’t kill them, (improbable,) and even somehow remained the same, (sheer impossibility,) Hermione would still won't be happy just with him. . .
. . .But then again. . . Alphard continued that train of thought as Zevi gently persuaded Hermione to step back and trade with him to a very comfortable looking armchair, stroking her hair and making her fell asleep a couple moments later, . . .Granger was above all logical, it wouldn’t surprise him if she found a very logical solution. . .
Zevi’s eyes met his and then moved to his stubborn Minerva, he didn’t have to say a word. . . Alphard let his wand to fell on his hand, leaned more towards Minnie and concentrated to a somnus. Minerva started snoring softly, how endearing. Tom had ordered a two person guard; there was no need for the girls to suffer too, at least not for the next couple hours. . .
Next thing he knew Leonard was up and sitting on his other side. Alphard, much to his shame was somewhat alarmed.

“Do you need something?”
“Are you really going to marry her?” Leonard was blunt as always.
“Yes.” short and to the point, Alphard was quite tired with his cousin undermining his relationship.
“Are you sure? I’m sure that uncle Cepheous won’t like that at all.”
Alphard tensed all over, but then he forced himself to relax, Leonard really cared, he wasn’t simply a smart arse.

“The hell with my father, I’m not twelve anymore!”
Leonard smiled.

“Harry already told me, but I wanted to hear this from you.”
Alphard smiled too.

“Of course he would.”
Leonard got serious.

“He is a hell of a guy and friend, you’re lucky to have him, I hope someday to be able to call him friend too.”
“I know,” Alphard’s eyes sharpened.

“Aren’t you afraid of him, after this? He is a bit loopy at the moment.”
Leonard’s eyes were honest.

“I trust him, even after this. It took a whole lot to come to this, probably a sane person could have snapped too and,” he smiled again, “isn’t the Philosopher's Stone a cure all?”
“That is what I heard.” he half confirmed.

“Gryffindor!” he teased.
Leonard’s smile reached his whole face.

“And don’t you forger it.”
Suddenly he dreaded the possibility that they would return to the coldness of the previous years. There was a sure way to avoid that. . .

“I’m sorry for not standing up to my father when he insulted aunt Dorea; I feared he was going to beat me up badly if I dared to have a publicly different opinion than him, I planned to ask sorry afterwards. . .” Alphard was beat red with embarrassment, but it had to be done. . .
“Well. . .” Leonard was embarrassed as well; he didn’t have to remind how badly he had reacted, making it impossible for Alphard to ask forgiveness.

“I wasn’t exactly approachable, but Dumbledore had already set me to spy on Riddle and you were already a part of his circle, I didn’t want to spy on you too.” it wasn’t an apology but something close to it.
Alphard’s eyes widened.

“What?”
Leonard winced.

“That’s one of the reasons for Harry’s outburst; I can see that you’re ready to follow suit but can’t you wait? Riddle let me alive so far.”
The tone was dry but Alphard could read his cousin’s worry, he softened his face.

“Alright, but if Tom okay’s it I want to hear the story.”
Leonard nodded quite willingly, but then the worry returned.

“How on earth you will manage to dodge uncle Cepheous?”
Alphard could read him perfectly. This time the worry was for him not Minnie.

“I won’t,” he leaned forward. “I will tell you a secret, Leonard, no one knows this, not even Harry, so mum the word.
Leonard nodded eagerly.

“I won’t say a thing.”
Alphard grinned.

“Markham plans to return to the Falcons, he agreed to recommend me in his place.”
Leonard’s mouth simply hung open.

“You! Flying instructor?”
Alphard raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t have me capable?”
“Of course I have you, berk, but why not professional Quidditch? You are not at Harry’s level, but for a chaser. . .you’re good.”
Alphard wasn’t insulted.

“No one that wants to live is good as Harry. Anyway, I prefer the school.” he didn’t need to elaborate to the why.
Leonard grinned from ear to ear.

“Boy, you have it bad! Congratulations!”
Alphard grinned right back.

“Thanks.”
Leonard looked at him thoughtfully.

“The question is: why it took you so long? If you love her that’s much it had been years in the making. . .”

Alphard didn’t say a word but his cousin was caching fast on how to read him again.

“It was me isn’t it? You held back for the chance that I may want her too.”
“Leonard!” Alphard was mortified to death, it was one thing doing it, quite another owning up to it.
Leonard face lighted like he managed the best prank in the school.

“You didn’t have to worry about me, I love the girl like a sister and some times like a brother. . .don’t even think about telling her that. . . but as a woman she doesn’t do anything for me, she is too graceless and boy like. I had enough with strong women with mum, I prefer something soft and femmine for my wife.” he smiled self-satisfied.

“Meli is a dream came true.”
Alphard was incredulous.
His Minerva wasn’t sensual and graceful and femmine enough? Was Leonard blind? His Minerva, who was so graceful in the air, fighting, or even dancing, who took his breath away with her proper buns that accentuated the long line of her neck, and was making him tremble with want upon seeing her fierce, or even flushed with sweat, after a game or a battle? Leonard had no idea, but Alphard wasn’t idiotic enough to correct him.
He loved Melissa Longbottom, for her softness?
Alphard barely held back a laugh. Sure, she was femmine enough and kind, but he had shared a single Herbology assignment with her and he had come to the conclusion that she was the most stubborn female he ever met; he had a feeling that Harry had taken it from her, not his cousin.

Leonard was for quite the ride.
Still, he kept his mouth shut, Leonard loved the dirt his mother walked on, and he was going to be quite happy with something close to that, for all his complains.

So he was quite honest with his well wishes.

“I’m happy for you too cousin,” he hugged him, “I know it’s a bit late for your engagement, but congratulations.”
Upon seeing Leonard’s happy smile Alphard concluded that while it was a bloody nightmarish night it had gotten just a tiny bit tolerable.

Tom’s pov

Tom apparated himself and Abraxas to Godric’s hollow’s graveyard besides an incredibly old grave that belonged into Ignotus Peverell. Even that wasn’t enough to get his attention for more than a cursory glance and the note to check it someday. After a few flicks of his wand for a couple masks (always black and white these days) and disillusionment they were on their way.
The Potters’ house looked very homely unscratched, but what really got his attention was the contrast to the other house to the left. The residences were almost of the same size, yet somehow the alchemist’s dwelling, while far from neglected, was also way more understated, radiating uninteresting. Tom’s eyes sharpened at that, it seemed that subtle was the key word for safety as far as the Flamels were concerned.
It was indeed, Tom set to work being extremely careful and precise. It could be relatively easy, for him, to force his way inside, but to manage passing undisclosed was a completely different matter. Dumbledore’s ideas of defence were childish games in comparison. There were charms upon charms taping one into another, nothing overtly harmful, but even a single one of them undetected it could set out an alarm that wouldn’t only wake up the house and probably the whole village, but would also tip Dumbledore and who knows who else. . .
Tom couldn’t afford distractions to his work and was pleased he brought Abraxas to guard him. As he got into the more inner defences their properties started getting more severe and the magic darker, due to that, he was able to work a bit faster and after around fifty minutes he managed to finally unlock the door.
“Wait for me here,” he instructed Abraxas, “if you hear any sounds from the house, no matter how faint, create a distraction, the loudest you can, but do not enter the house unless I specifically call you.”
He barely waited for the affirmative before he got inside.
Flamel’s house looked very different on the inside than outside. While it was a far cry of the opulence of Malfoy Manor, for example, it was anything but neglected. Wide areas, assisted with careful use of wizarding space, decorated tastefully with wizarding and muggle objects and artwork from around the world, the whole effect like a modest museum.
Tom had intended to search the house first looking for the stronger magical sources he could find and in the case they were blocked logically and methodically.
Unfortunately that was impossible. Every crane and nick of the house was crowded with hidden shelves and crypts which, he discovered were full of extremely rare and powerful artefacts, not merely objects. . . and every single shelve and crypt was protected with the same delicate diligence. Tom had got quite acquainted with the pattern, but it was still taking time and there were always surprises, it wasn’t worth the risk to be careless.
Each hidden drawer contained something tantalising that Tom wanted to take out and study, but one, he had lost already too much time and two, he hadn’t come there for them, so no frivolities, and it was better to leave things as much intact as possible. In the end he simply took every single container that he could find, which turned out quite a good number.
The search continued to the second floor.
The defences were again tighter and the artefacts more dangerous, but the Stone wasn’t anywhere near the vicinity of the laboratory, or the office, and Tom wasn’t going anywhere until he fount it.
Unfortunately, there was a problem; Tom wasn’t certain if he made a mistake and tipped a silent alarm, or if the wizard was able to sense that someone was on his property, but Flamel woke up and found his treasures levitating at his study.
Naturally the alchemist’s first reaction was a “Finite incantatem.” to see who was against him, but to no effect, as Tom’s parselmagic protected him from such nuisances.

Tom sent an array of incapacitating curses to end things in a hurry but Flamel surprised him by managing to dodge.
Flamel then processed to surprise him even more so, as his attack wasn’t an attack at all but a counter curse, that while didn’t lift his disillusionment it surrounded him with a faint silver aura, which was almost the same thing, as he was now visible.
They duelled for some minutes, for while Flamel wasn’t even nearly close to Grindelwald level, he was a very powerful grey wizard (again surprising,) with six centuries of experience. The odds changed once more when the wife got into the game.
Perenell Flamel was a fairly good duellist as well and was very used to work in tandem with her husband (Tom’s mind flashed to Harry and it steeled his resolve even more) and it made things even more difficult. It could be simpler of course for Tom to permanently get them out of the way, but he found himself reluctant.
Not only for the epic Harry’s bitching, that was definitely going to happen if he killed them, but because Tom found himself respecting their brilliance, it would be a true loss to simply dispatch them, not when there was even the smallest chance that he could use those talents for his benefit.
Also he was very aware that if he killed the one he should definitely kill and the other. Those two had lived together for six centuries, if one of them survived the other; he or she was going to deal with gods and demons to get revenge.
So Tom was very, very, careful with his curses, much to his disadvantage, but when the passing of time was beating right to his temples and his patience was as good as over he managed to finally stun Flamel for some moments and it was enough to distract the wife, so he took care of her as well.
A few moments more, to make sure that they were really out and would stay that way, for the next hours at least, and Tom continued with his search, calmly as you please, but still with dubious results. Finally, at four in the morning, at the couple’s bedroom, after he had searched everything else, he found the Stone.
It was unmistakable.
Not only from her reddish colour and specific shape, which he remembered from Harry’s memories, but his whole being was affected from the power and vitality he sensed radiating from that simple object. He had succeeded in his mission; he took the rest of the found containers, and after securing his mask to a post, left the house.
Abraxas was waiting outside, for some reason looking really unnerved, he really needed to train his followers more. . .but an exchange of looks was enough to fix that. For a moment it looked, disturbingly, like Malfoy had forgotten his place and intended to hug him, thankfully he refined. Tom really needed to talk with Harry about the ideas he was giving. . .
“Let’s return to the school.”
“Yes my Lord.” Abraxas was positively beaming.
Tom wasn’t so positive. He was satisfied with his success of course, but he wasn’t going to relax until he forced the Elixir down Harry’s throat and had proof that it worked.
They returned to the school and their first hurried stop was the RoR room.
Harry was still sleeping peacefully and the others were continuing to guard him, even Leonard.
“How was he?” Tom asked.
“Still sleeping, my Lord,” Zevi answered.

“He hadn’t steered at all, but we kept sending him periodically sleeping charms so he will probably stay asleep until morning.”
“Very well,” Tom considered for a moment his orders.

“Leonard, you will stay here until you wake Harry at 6:30. Harry wasn’t aware of the true extent of your injuries; you won’t mention to him that you met me only that you asked for Alphard and Minerva’s help, which would stay as well. Abraxas, you will stay until its time for Harry to wake but he won’t find you here, Zevi and Hermione with me.”
That was going to be enough for Harry to keep guessing until he was ready to find him, probably an overt gesture but it would do and in all probability Tom was going to have the Elixir ready before six.
Everyone nodded in agreement to his orders but Leonard was agitated and needed something more.

“You didn’t kill them, did you?”
Tom didn’t care for the tone but he let it pass.

“No, I didn’t.”
Leonard’s relief was palpable.

“Thank you my L. . .”
Tom merely smirked.

He was keeping this memory to taunt Harry; the near reverent tone of his grandfather was going to needle him for a long time . . .

Four hours after, he wasn’t anywhere near that satisfied. They had tested, in every which way, every single one of the contained potions he took from the Flamel house and not one of them was the Elixir, not even in an early stage. Worst, he hadn’t any results even with the actual Stone.
Tom was regretting bitterly that he didn’t question the Flamels about the Elixir, or the workings of the Stone. The reason he held back was the awareness that a questioning would had ended in torture and probably death, as stressed as he was, and he hadn’t held back in the first place to succumb after. At that moment, though, he was cursing Harry and his soft ideas.
A tempus later he swore, it was a little after breakfast; he needed to make a token attendance at class and to check on Harry, he could continue to work on the Stone later.

Twelve hours later, Tom had never been closer to murder, everyone, in his life. The Stone continued to not respond in anything he tried and he had tried everything.
He was also keeping the link close and avoiding Harry like the plague.
Not only to avoid telling him that he failed, (he hadn’t, not by a long shot,) but because it would piss him off and make him question. A questioning, or angry, Harry was too busy trying to figure out Tom and was absenting from doing something rash, or stupid. It wouldn’t hold for long, but for now it worked.
Tom wasn’t depending only on that, of course, he had his friend under such a heavy guard that Harry wouldn’t possibly be able to be alone even in the toilette. It was going to blow up in his face soon enough, but if Harry held back until morning it would be enough.
Tom hoped that until then it would have been enough to figure out the Stone, (if not he was going to make another visit at the Flamels, the charm to persuade them to stay at their place contained in the mask, among other things, was probably strong enough.)
For now he had another problem.
That idiot, Dippet, who sometimes surpassed Dumbledore, had the brilliant idea for an informal dance to celebrate their recent victory against Grindelwald at Hogsmeade. It would have looked beyond strange if he didn’t participated, so he was forced to stay in the Great Hall, spinning Hermione in a tango, instead of researching, but they weren’t going to stay here for long, another dance at most, and they would return on their work, gossip meant nothing right now.
All the while Harry nursed firewhiskey after firewhiskey; Tom couldn’t help sent him convert troubled glances between spins. This wasn’t good; Harry wouldn’t make a public scene, no matter his condition, but even a small fight later, with anyone, wouldn’t help matters. Maybe he should order Zevi to dose him with a sedative, just in case. . .
In the next turn, his worry went sky high; Harry wasn’t at the table anymore, and after a fast examination, neither anywhere else in the hall.
He examined his followers then, Alphard was dancing with Minerva near them, blissfully unaware of anything, Abraxas and Zevi looked alarmed but not too alarmed, he looked at the Gryffindors . . . Leonard wasn’t with Harry; he was talking with his girlfriend. At something that could be called a hunch he checked the Hufflepuff table. Diggory wasn’t there. . .
Tom’s mind went racing. . .
It was improbable that the one had to do with the other; they were only acquaintances at best, but something close to instinct that Tom didn’t even know he had, was screaming that they were together. He tried to think logically, Diggory was the Undersecretary’s son; there were many things that Harry could gain by talking with him. . . But also. . .Harry was attracted to him. . .
Meanwhile, Hermione was squirming because he stopped dancing.

“Tom what’s wrong?” she asked worried, then she followed his gaze. . .

“Where’s Harry?” her voice started getting truly panicked.
Tom ignored her. . .
His mind was busy trying to come with reasons to drop the theory, he couldn’t. Harry was attracted to the badger, and strongly so, his reactions were proof of that. The only things that held Harry back from doing something with that attraction were his conviction that he wasn’t gay and his feelings for Tom. . .
. . .That belief didn’t seem that strong these days and as for his feelings, he was angry enough with Tom, (and rightfully so,) that it was probably easy to overlook them and seek comfort from the gentler Hufflepuff. . .
Maybe he should let him do it, the ruthlessly logical part of Tom’s mind pointed out. Diggory was at best a fling, something that wouldn’t create problems to them, even if Harry dated him for a while. At worst case, if it was a point of Harry’s emotional dependence, it was most likely to end in his advantage. His friend could finally get it over without the smallest risk to their own relationship. The only problem with this was that he should tolerate Diggory’s hands on his Harry for at least once. . .
The blood roared ho hard in his veins that he was incapable to hear the music or anything else.
. . .The hell he would. . .
Tom left Granger where she stood, without a single word, and followed Harry. . .
- 5
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The Fate Changed Now What?