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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
- 6
- 7
- 8
Harry’s pov

Harry brought the firewhiskey glass on his lips, pretending to drink, but in reality just banishing the contents, little by little. It was necessarily, for his plans tonight, that his friends would regard him as drunk, so that he could get away hassle free. Not that it was that difficult, his friends were unused in sleep deprivation and were almost sitting ducks, compared to their usual selves, thanks to that.
He couldn’t help sending them a fond glance.
Brax looked half asleep to the table; Zevi had heavy dark rings under his eyes, Alphard and Minerva were dancing now, but they hadn’t left him alone almost at all the whole day, Hermione had done the same, as much as she could, but her eyes dampened nearly every time she looked at him, and even Leonard was sending him concerned glances from his table.
Harry hated that he was going to realise all their fears. . .
Still, there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that, for all their undoubted caring, Tom’s heavy hand was hiding behind this entire planning.
Tom.
The Slytherin Heir hadn’t spoken a voluntary word to him the whole day; even sitting besides him at class, Harry had been half expecting it, since he awoke, but he was also hoping that they had moved past Tom retreating every time he touched an emotional milestone.
Harry laughed mirthlessly, not caring, even a little bit, at how he looked to the others. The whole day yesterday was a study in emotional retreat. . .
His feelings were such a confusing swirling minefield that he was sure he had gone completely round the bend. On one moment he soared so high with happiness that he thought that he was going to touch the sun.
Tom loved him, truly did, with everything he had, Harry didn’t doubt it, not anymore. Not when he was ready to risk getting forever trapped into his mind. Those moments out of time were beyond precious to him, eternally seared in his heart and soul, cherished. . .to his last breath. . .
But there was always the next moment that he remembered how casually and logically Tom rejected him on the same day and he crashed down.
The hurt was still cutting deep, as deeply as the happiness, if not deeper. Even the fact that Tom did it before rushing to save him didn’t ease the pain, only deepened it. Truthfully, the knowledge that his friend had consciously rejected him, while he felt all those things, was making his stomach queasy and his blood to boil . . . especially considering his latest rejection. . .
A bitter smile touched Harry’s lips as he watched Tom dance with Hermione under the sounds of ‘Una Historia De Un Amour’, they looked good together and he hoped that he was right and his friend felt something for Hermione, for soon enough she would be the only one left to him . . .
Harry was strangely glad for the distance. If Tom dared to speak to him, right now, he wasn’t completely sure he wouldn’t kill him, probably the opposite.
But even that was hardly the main problem anymore. Whatever he may feeling, be delirious with happiness, spiting with rage, or dejected beyond measure, any feelings whatsoever were now irrelevant; the die had already been cast. . .
He was thankful on Tom for teaching him to move past his emotions. . .
The decision had been taken long ago; Harry didn’t need yesterday to warn him. The one mistake he made with this was allowing himself to forget, in the first place, at his attempt to function. If he hadn’t done that the whole mess wouldn’t have happened.
The only problem he hadn’t foreseen with the first plan and finding himself again into the past was that Tom would have taken his horcrux into himself and even less that he would have bestowed him with his own. He didn’t have the right to die anymore. . .
That didn’t mean he was ready to simply accept that he was losing control and was now prone to hurt others, Tom had made a disservice to the both of them when he snapped him from caging himself into his own mind, but that didn’t mean that it was the only viable of Harry’s options.
The idea had stuck him from the start but the available catalyst had been a bit too obvious. He couldn’t use Sava from the chamber to petrify him, Tom was either going to find him in five minutes flat, and even if he didn’t, a sharp order from his master and the giant snake would have confessed to everything, Harry needed another basilisk. . .
It had taken him until the start of sixth year for Harry to pry the information from Slughorn, (it would have been inadvisable to have asked anything of the sort from Zevi and his family,) but he had the location for a fairly young basilisk in Ireland, a small look though glass and all his problems will be over. . . He wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone ever again, he would be technically alive and so Tom would be incapable of hurting his friends, instead he will still be obliged to protect them, and mostly, this wouldn’t damage his friend and neither of the horcruxes. Win/win scenario. . .
But he prayed that he was right in his estimation that, while Tom fought him viciously for his decision, if he wasn’t given a choice to the matter and only learned it afterwards, his friend would finally accept it and move on with his life. . .
Other than that, the only thing he had still a problem with was that he wouldn’t be able to do anything for Charlus Potter, not only because he was blood, but because he really felt that he owed it to Leonard. His grandfather hadn’t only stayed all night long in the RoR room, but was and bloody courteous in the morning, not pitying or anything, but simply considering the episode a bad moment. That had gutted Harry. . .
. . .And then the bloody git had gone and done it. . . He had asked him to visit in the vacation, with Tom, or any of his friends. . .That open attitude, after everything, had shamed Harry; he really didn’t feel able to look his grandfather to his eyes. . .
Abruptly, he felt a pair of eyes insisting on him, he raised his face expecting Tom, but his friend was still oblivious dancing with Hermione and he came face to face with an expectant Samuel Diggory.
His cheeks were flushed from drinks, but he looked steady enough, so it was only to the point to give him courage to approach him. The Hufflepuff smiled at him sweetly, his look lingering a bit, then nodded towards the exit and simply left. Harry had seen enough propositions, (thought he never accepted a single one,) to recognise it. . .
It left Harry with very deep thoughts. . .
It was a temptation to follow. . .Not that he planned to take him up to his offer. . . dead man dating. . . it sounded more than a little awkward. . . but it was crossing his mind that Sam could really help him with his problem with Leonard. He was the Undersecretary’s son, if someone could get him a portkey for Nurmengard it would be him. If he didn’t want to help, Harry would cash the life-dept, not the best thing to do, but to save a life, or lives; he was more than ready to accept it.
He considered the logistics some more. If he did that he was going to invade Nurmengard alone, to do as much damage he could to the defences and free as many prisoners as possible. If Grindelwald was there, to face him as well and do again as much damage as possible before he succumbed.
It sounded beyond suicidal, but Harry was confident that he would free at least some of the prisoners, but what really scared him wasn’t death, he could live with that just fine, what terrified him was the prospect of being an undead spirit. Give him enough years and he could turn crazier than Voldemort, but he trusted that Tom wasn’t going to allow him to stay dead.
He didn’t even dare to consider on what Tom was going to use for his body, as it was improbable that he could find the original. But it was only going to end in his favour; it would be impossible for him to stay in Hogwarts, so it could be relatively easy to get away and return to his original plans.
That settled, a small smile graced his lips, he was going to do it then. . .
He rose to follow and it was almost impossible to not laugh, his friends had certainly a specific impression, but he wasn’t going to set them right, none of them would dare to report something like that on Tom, never mind the rest of their house. . .
A small glance at them, as a final goodbye, and one more on Tom and Hermione, he was ready. . .

Harry fallowed Sam out of the hall. . .
~*~
The dark haired badger was waiting for him outside, but not with high expectations, the stunned look on his face was proof enough. But then he smiled a gorgeous guileless smile that took Harry’s breath away and made him wish, just for a moment, that he really was here to take Sam up to his offer.
“You came!” Diggory was completely breathless.
The emotion was such in his voice that Harry couldn’t help but blush, apparently this thing went further than a simple wish to bed him and he couldn’t help but wonder at how it could have been to have someone wanting him without complications. . .

He was so disconnected by the thought that instead of quipping like usual and diffusing things he asked simply:

“Can we leave out of here?”
Sam’s smile gained a little leer.

“I was hoping for you to ask.”
Harry noticed the charged expression, but he tried to ignore it and had a brief struggle with himself on where to take Sam, he hated to set foot on the RoR room again, after yesterday, but then again that hate was going to keep his mind on business better than an empty classroom or, Salazar help him, the Astronomy Tower.
“Come with me.”
They got discreetly on the third floor but as much as Harry passed in front the portrait the room sensed his desire to be anywhere but here and the door didn’t materialized.
That spiked the, near constant, resentment and anger that Harry felt at himself since he admitted, this morning, how far he had fallen.

. . .He couldn’t even stop himself from messing up his own plans. . .

He forced the irritation down; he wasn’t going to lose control again and hurt Sam, not if he could help it. . .

“Damn!” he muttered inside his teeth.
Sam put a tentative hand on his shoulder.
“Its alright, you can relax, no one will bother us here, they are busy with the dance.” he said softly.
His breath was getting awful close to his face. . .
Harry barely had the time to jump back as he figured things.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked to gain time, while he berated internally himself for not staying on his guard, really, he should be paying more attention. . .No one could be a threat like Tom, but nearly no one was a doormat either. . .
Sam didn’t take it kindly at all. . .

“What’s wrong with me?” he glared heatedly,

“You are the one acting illogically, you accepted my invitation, you took us to the most private part of the castle and now you act all shy. . . and virginal?” he accused Harry but then his eyes widened.

“Ahh, I should have known, you haven’t got out with a boy before!”
Harry felt his cheeks heat from embarrassment; he really would have preferred to avoid that. . .
“To be completely honest,” he put hastily to end this awkward moment.

“I had an ulterior motive when I accepted your invitation.”
Diggory’s face that had relaxed with his discovery took a very pensive expression.

“It figures, I have been after you for months and months and when you finally notice me it’s because you want something. At least you didn’t seduce me and then asked. . .” he added with very bitter humour.
Harry ducked his head at the partially correct accusations. He refused to acknowledge anything but the final and very pointed comment sent his way; anything else would have created a messiest situation.
“I would never go that far,” he said, finally looking at Sam’s eyes, “and I’m sorry for creating this mess, but things are really urgent.”
Sam examined him back and then his face softened.

“I believe you,” he smiled, still a little bitter, but mostly alright.

“Come on, ask what you need, I’m more than used to it, since my father’s promotion. No promises, but I will see what I can do.”
Harry really didn’t expect such kindness and felt like a weigh left his shoulders. It was almost over. . .
“I need a portkey to Nurmengard.” he said simply.
It wasn’t that simple for Sam. The shock was such he spluttered, almost falling over, and looked at Harry wild eyed.
“Nurmengard, are you crazy, he will kill you?” he asked overwhelmed with horror.
Harry was touched; he didn’t expect such a reaction after his rejection.

“I don’t have a choice, Sam, the Dark Lord, has a member of my family.”
There was again a flash of kindness and shock, but Diggory regrouped almost immediately.
“I understand. . . I should be expecting something like that. . .I just thought that you were an orphan, never mind that. . .” a deep breath, “Knowing you, a bit, you plan to fight not surrender.” it wasn’t a question.
Harry answered none the less.

“Surrender is not an option.”
But then Sam stunned him completely with a relieved:

“Good!”
“What, aren’t you going to ask me if I’m suicidal?”

The question left Harry’s lips without his control.
Sam smiled.

“No, I have seen enough of your stunts to already know the answer.
Harry laughed; he didn’t expect such a paid answer by a Hufflepuff. But then he forced himself to the task.

“Well, can you find me a portkey?”
Sam got serious too.
“Probably, but Harry, if you wait a bit the task may not need your involvement, or, at least, end a bit less suicidal.” he told him earnestly.
“How so?” he asked curiously.
A brief moment of hesitation that turned to firm resolve. . . .
“I’m not supposed to know this, never mind telling you, but there is already a set plan in the Ministry to invade Nurmengard soon.”
Harry was surprised, he never heard for such an operation, somehow history was already changed and not only regarding Tom.
“How soon?” it was probably irrelevant but he couldn’t help the question.
Sam was prompt to answer.

“A month, maybe a bit more.
Harry told himself to not be disappointed.

“I see. . .”
Diggory wasn’t discouraged by his declining interest.
“Look, I know that you’re in a hurry and probably want to take care of things yourself, but I’m sure that my father will be so happy if you get involved that will try to hasten things on your behalf. You’re of age, so there won’t be a fell out, and he was very impressed with you and Riddle. . .”
“Don’t involve Tom in this.” the order got out instinctually and without thought.
The fierceness startled Sam, but instead of making him step back it seemed like it firmed his resolve.

“Alright, I won’t.” he put both hands on Harry’s shoulders and just looked at him, not holding back his worry.

“But please consider it. . . alone you will surely die, with the Aurors you will have a chance.”
Harry felt like a storm had been unleashed inside him.
Not for the offer, he didn’t have the time to wait for the Ministry without getting Tom on his tail, although, objectionably, it was indeed the highest chance of survival he seemed to have. . . if he was still aiming for that of course. . .

No, what affected him the most was Diggory himself. He didn’t expected him to care that much, or to be able to push back, and those facts, together with his closeness and smell, were giving him crazy ideas.
He realised, somewhere in the back of his mind, that in a different, softer, life he would have fallen for Sam. (Or someone like him, but he wasn’t analysing that.) So why not giving in, once? He wanted to forget everything for a while and just live, (now that he still had the chance,) to feel that someone desired him and cared.
There was only one thing he truly missed from his relationship with Amelia, the times they had just sat together and held each other for hours. He wanted that once again. . .that and more. . .
He knew he could have it with Sam, the passion in his eyes wasn’t only for his survival, but he was also relatively certain that the badger wasn’t in love with him. He didn’t know him well enough for that and, more so, if he was the reaction would have been far more severe, not that begrudging acceptance.
Sam was going to be sad but not devastated from his demise.
Those thoughts crossed his mind in a single moment, decision already taken; he repeated the other’s gesture and put his own hands on Sam’s shoulders.
“Harry what are you doing?” Sam sounded thrown on a loop.
He smiled.

“Shh.”
He stood on his toes, really, what was with him and taller guys? (No, he wasn’t thinking about that. . .) but just before his lips could find Sam’s he sensed an enormous, hair raising, wave of magic that was immediate expressed like a tremor seizing the whole passageway.
Harry scarcely stayed on his feet; mostly thanks to his reflexes and Sam. He turned around to face the exploding, threatening, magic and wasn’t really surprised to find Tom at the other end of the corridor. Still, he couldn’t help but being momentarily frozen with the other’s appearance. His friend looked terrible, magic and hair haywire, pale as death with rage and eyes blazing red.
“Sam, get out of here.” he ordered.
Sam hesitated for a moment, looking loyally at him and biting his lip, but a second look at the teenager Dark Lord made him bolt away.
Not that Harry had that much attention to spare; everything he had was focused on Tom; their eyes locked for a single second and then he had to duck a wandless curse, (a barely softer variation of the Cruciatus). His own, much strained, fury finally snapped to blasting proportions, dyeing everything a hazy red. The only thing of issue to him now was to pay Tom back, if he lived or died was irrelevant . . .
He didn’t gave him the time for a second curse, or even bothered with magic, with two strides Harry was in front of Tom, punching with everything he had. The sound of the cracked nose and the smell of blood were deeply satisfying, just not enough. The next moment Tom retaliated by kicking him on his knees hard and lunging for his throat. They landed on the floor and there wasn’t time for thought anymore.
Harry’s whole world had shrunken down on the exchange of punches, kickings and scratches, it didn’t mattered how many hits he was landing on Tom, nor on how sensitive place it was obtained; complete upper hand was simply out of reach, for anyone. Despite his immeasurable fury and the fact that he was usually the better muggle fighter his friend was just as mad and was matching him strike for strike.
After a while it stopped mattering that there wasn’t an impending wining to the fight, for anyone, if they were fighting on their feet or rolling on the floor, trying to crack each other’s heads. The bruises and abrasions stopped bothering him, he was consumed with his boiling blood and the fierce satisfaction he gained with every unwilling groan of pain he forced out of the other, each fresh bump and every drop of the small rivulets of blood that run on Tom’s face. Somehow it was a kind of release and solace from his anger and the over-consummating feeling of betrayal. . . .

Time hadn’t meaning anymore, neither pain, it was simply unconnected as anything but a testimony to reality. . .
But as more minutes, or a small eternity, passed things started to change. . .
The bruises and blood on his friend gradually stopped pleasing him and started bothering him. His anger and hurt hadn’t abated, not even close, but his berserker like rage started to fade. Even his conscience started to needle him. . .
The unguarded moment lasted less than a second but it was enough for Tom, Harry found himself cornered to a wall. His friend’s eyes were still red, so there was no common sense present, nor reconciliation in the horizon. Still, he had enough of the fight but no intention whatsoever to surrender, or plead for mercy. So he limited himself on glaring and waited for the probable death blow.
But instead of killing him, Tom covered his mouth with his own. Firm, hungry, lips rubbing against his own, making him ache with pleasure. The kiss was violent, totally out of control and beyond possessive, taking everything. . . Amelia’s too soft and sweet kisses didn’t hold even a candle in comparison. Harry found himself trembling from passion and his desperate emotions. In the end he just held on Tom, to stay on his feet, kissing just as fiercely with everything he had. . .
Harry didn’t know if what followed were a thousand kisses or a single endless one, he got lost in the heat, the burning lava of the moment, their pulsing link, Tom’s lips, his smell, warmth, strength and the wild beating of their hearts. . .Something that went beyond pleasure. . . His friend was clutching him like only dead he was ever going to let him go.
Harry’s, starved for reassurance, psyche responded to this, he would rather be dead too, than ever letting go of Tom. . .
But that spark of thought reminded Harry of his condition. He couldn’t do that to Tom. If that action would have been a calculated cruelty on Diggory, it went so far beyond that with Tom. . .not as opposed to his cold, assertive, aloof, personality but because of that. This was no time for self delusions or modesty; he was everything the other had, if he gave him all he was and then deserted him, especially to something like death, he would destroy everything his friend was, only the madness will remain. . .
Harry stopped his own assault and made an aggressive move to get away; Tom didn’t let him to disentangle and tightened his hold even more, almost to the point of actual pain. Regardless what it did to him, Harry continued struggling like crazy, but then a long fingered hand sunk to his hair and grasped them, drawing back his head and compelling their eyes to meet –blazing inferno to blazing inferno – then Tom took his lips once again. . .
Harry’s will to resist was fading fast, he needed desperately something to reduce this. . .this mutual enthralment. . .and end their moment. . . At the next retreat of Tom’s tongue he sank his teeth on his friend’s lower lip, biting harshly and copper blood filled his mouth. . .

. . .Unfortunately that seemed to arouse Tom even more, he returned the favour, feverishly biting the half Gryffindor’s lips just as hard. . .

Strangely, the pain made his body respond even hungrier than before and he couldn’t help an involuntary moan, the taste of their shared blood oddly enchanting the experience and making his head spin like if he was drunk. . .
. . .Not that Tom left anything in luck, at his next attempt at resistance he reduced the last of the already minuscule distance between them, leaving no doubt whatsoever to his own desire and inserted his thigh between Harry’s own, rubbing firmly. Harry’s head fell back in mindless pleasure. The Slytherin used this, attacking his neck with biting kiss after biting kiss and destroying him completely. (How the hell he should know that his neck was such a sensitive place. . .)
But even at the brink of ecstasy a fiery spark of his will got to the surface. . .
“No.” Harry said with the clearest voice he could manage.

(Nowhere near his normal voice, as it was wrenched from his moans and he was panting harshly.)
Tom raised his head from his neck and regarded him calmly, arching an eyebrow.

“No?” he asked seductively.

Or as calmly someone could look with a face flushed with desire, violet-red smouldering eyes and beyond swollen lips. There was almost nothing in common with his friend’s usual countenance. . .
Harry’s heart hammered in his chest, everything in him was begging to give in, but he couldn’t, it was the love he felt what gave him the strength to try and hold back. He couldn’t help looking as affected as Tom, his eyes just as smouldering, but he made heart and infused them with all the steel in his soul.
“The only way for you to have me is if you use the promise I made for your help in teaching defence, anything else will be against my will.” he cringed inwardly even as he uttered those words. They held no truth, a mere single touch and he would shatter.
But Tom made no move to continue this and even less to invoke their deal. He was frozen solid in plain horror; his arms fell from around Harry, as if burnt.

“Very well,” he said icily, “You may leave.” he took a step back to make way.
Harry stared at his friend shocked and numb to his core; it wasn’t the words, or the action. Tom’s eyes seemed to get duller and colder by the second, not merely an angry reaction, but all his feelings dying out, for good. . .
He had thought that he wouldn’t live long enough to see something so unbearable, but here he was, the direct cause. Apparently his strike was as brutal and deadly as the one Tom managed at him yesterday. . . he couldn’t stand it. . .
Harry didn’t think about it, his arms came around Tom’s neck; his hands weaved tightly to his hair, coaxing that beloved mouth to his own. . .he only prayed that it wasn’t already too late. . .
His friend stayed cold and unresponsive for a moment and Harry’s heart broke, believing it was over, but then Tom’s arms came around him, clutching him to his chest, tightly as never before. If there was the slightest holding back before there was none now, if they could drink each other’s souls they would. . .
Tom turned them around, vanished their clothes, and lay them down. If Harry had the mind to wonder about this, the feeling of a mattress underneath them removed the questions, they had somehow found themselves in the RoR room. But frankly he didn’t care at all where they were, he had all that warm, strong but soft and creamy, Tom skin to discover. . .
He lost himself in this. . .
Their hands explored feverishly, memorising, learning each other bodies as well as they had already learned their minds and souls, turning round and round, tangled on their makeshift bed, both of them trying to assert dominion in an attempt to get the time to appease their thirst for the other. But their hunger went too deep to be sated with mere crumbs and the game continued. . .
. . .Their blood burned more with every moment that passed and things had to move beyond power games, no matter how very satisfying to both of their natures they were. At their next shift their erections came firmly against one another, making them gasp at the unbearable pleasure. Harry was so lost in this that he really didn’t care at all that he found himself beneath Tom and they instinctually found a rhythm as old as time and magic itself.
Even in this, they barely endured a few seconds a time, for their lips to part, just to draw breath, and they found each other again. . . but as their cresting came nearer and nearer that became impossible, they found each other’s eyes instead, holding on. . .
But a curious thing happened. . .the barriers between them, already flimsy, shattered completely. Harry was Tom, feeling all he felt, and Tom became him. . .One at last. . . They lost themselves in unbearable pleasure and a thousand colours. . .
Harry had a strange thought; he believed it was his. . . That he didn’t mind dying after this, not as sacrifice, but because he couldn’t conceive being happier. . .
Tom collapsed in his arms, looking more vulnerable and human than ever, Harry held him even tighter. . . He didn’t want to leave Tom, never ever wanted to do that, at all. . . he stopped thinking altogether and simply held him for all he was worth. . . After a little while they started the game again from the beginning. . .

Sam’s Pov

Samuel Diggory was running as fast as he could . . .
Riddle has looked truly insane as he attacked Harry. Red eyes!?

Icy shivers run down his spine with the remembrance. Merlin!

The way he looked at him, like he planned him the most gruesome death. Sam wasn’t ashamed to admit he had almost passed out from fear. . . and Harry wasn’t much better, the way he attacked Tom, with such abandon. . . it was just as compelling to watch, for a completely different reason. . .
Sam shook his head to drive away those musings. He just didn’t understand, Abraxas Malfoy, that sly fox, had told him that Harry and Riddle weren’t dating; otherwise, he wouldn’t have dared to openly approach him. Harry, in addition, hadn’t lied to him, that much he could tell; he had dated his share of boys and could spot an innocent. Even that move of his, mere seconds before Riddle’s attack, wasn’t staged, no matter how tricky Slytherins were; the surprise to his eyes had been too real. . .
But the tension between them. . .Helga and all the other Founders! That tension. . . Even if they hadn’t been lovers so far, there was an excellent chance that this was to be rectified tonight. . .
. . .And herein lays his problem. . .
If they were killing each other. . .and he would have preferred to be miles away from Riddle tonight, then his duty was clear, to inform the teachers to break them up. No matter his fear he wasn’t going to allow for Harry to be killed, or became a murderer. . .in battle was one thing. . .
But. . .what if they weren’t fighting and were occupied otherwise. . .?
Then to call the teachers would have been beyond bad. . . rumours and teasing were one thing, even silent common knowledge, but to get caught in a compromising position quite another. Even if they didn’t get expelled, due to excellent marks and being of age, a decent job later, never mind an actual career, was out of the question. . .Riddle was going to kill him for real and he was going to be right. . .
He was so going to kill Abraxas Malfoy. . .
The only thing he could think for his dilemma was to ask for advice, preferable to one of Harry’s friends, but he was too embarrassed to talk about it, as it could be nothing too. Fortunately, his friend Roger was also Harry’s friend, together with his smart girlfriend Imogen, and they did know him pretty well. . . they would know what to do. . .
He had just to be careful as he got in and explained, so not alert the teachers. . .there was probably no need for scandal. . .
But, as he finally reached the final turn before the doors and stopped to compose himself, it wouldn’t do to go into Great Hall frazzled like that after all, he realised that he was perhaps a bit too late for that. . .
There were sounds of hushed, rapid, talk coming just from outside the Hall. Sam took a careful look and found a small crowd standing close to the entrance. Though the lighting was poor, merely a torch, he recognised the reflection of silver blond hair. It looked like Harry and Riddle’s closer friends were already on alert. . .
A wave of relief hit Sam. Harry’s friends were going to take care of things; he was a bit apprehensive meeting them here, instead of the Great Hall, but he was an adult wizard not a little kid. . .
But as he took the first step he heard something that made him hesitate.
“Do you have any idea where they could be? We must find them quickly.” it sounded like Hermione Granger. Sam swore inside, Riddle’s fiancée, how more complicated things were going to get?
“Are you sure, Hermione? Maybe they won’t appreciate the interruption.” it sounded like Prince; at least he had a bit of sense.
Hermione’s voice didn’t weaver a bit.

“Maybe they won’t, Zev. But as there is a third party involved I’m too afraid to.” a deep, deep, breath:

“Imogen, please?”
“I’m not sure it’s applies, Hermione,” a softer, uncertain, voice finally answered her.

“But Sam usually takes his dates at the astronomy tower.”
Damn, they had gotten Imogen involved. . .

He really wanted to scold her, for opening her mouth to his business, but all the same he appreciated that she didn’t want to leave him at Riddle’s mercy. Sam approached them hastily, if his friends were already involved it was better to face things now.
“Riddle and Harry are fighting to the training room in the Seventh floor, you better break them up.” he told them without pause.
They looked taken aback, not expecting him to take them unaware, or to still have all his limbs attached, but he was surprised too: not only were his friends, Roger and Imogen, here but also the Gryffindor Leonard Potter and the assistant teacher Minerva McGonagall.
“Is Harry alright?” that was Zevi Prince, calm but with a huge underline of tension
. . .And almost completely simultaneously:

“Did Tom find you, together?” Granger, nowhere near calm, was wringing her hands.
“Where exactly did you say they were, inside or outside the RoR room?” Minerva was a bit more practical.
Sam felt his panic returning; he didn’t know how much of help they were going to be, but he didn’t like it one bit, if Granger asked what he thought she asked.

“Please one at a time.” he pleaded to gain time.
“What happened mate?” Roger asked concerned and put a hand to his shoulder.
Sam relaxed a bit, he wasn’t alone.
“We were at the training room in the seventh floor, Riddle found us and it was nasty, when I left Harry was alright, but they were fighting and I’m not sure for how long it will stay that way, for either of them.”
“You mean duelling?” Abraxas had kept his usual suave tone even in this and Sam couldn’t help a poisonous glare.

“No, I mean bloody muggle fighting, looking hell bent on killing each other.” he exploded.
The others winced.
“Why, did Riddle catch you snogging, or something?” Leonard asked bluntly.
Sam blushed with the directness, wondering what any of this had to do with the Gryffindor and why the hell he was so damn tactless. . .
“Nah,” Alphard smiled kind of unpleasantly, “he is alive and unhurt, isn’t he?”
“Guys. . .” McGonagall’s voice was an order and both Gryffindor and Slytherin closed their mouths promptly, looking contrite.
The two other girls’ reactions were an apparent contrast. Imogen was a bright red, completely uncomfortable with the whole mess, but Granger while clearly worried for Harry was almost blank.
Sam wished he was anywhere but here, or at least that Granger wasn’t here. He was a gentleman, it wasn’t his place at all to give her hints, much less inform her, of her fiancé’s probable indiscretions. Also he was already in deep shit with Riddle, if the Head Boy believed for a moment that he snitched on him there was nothing to save him from his hands. . .
Still, he was already into this, he owed Harry another try, before he was out of here.
“Gentlemen,” he emphasized, “aren’t you going to go and break up your friends’ fight before they kill each other?”
Black and Prince while concerned didn’t look so ready to interfere on the fight, Malfoy was unreadable.
“Calm down Diggory, Tom and Harry fight all the time, they will be alright.” Black- He didn’t sound too sure though.
There was a deep crease between Prince’s brows.
“Maybe we should go and check anyway,” he said to his friends clearly in dilemma.

“You remember what happened the first time they had a physical fight and how it turned out?”
Roger and Imogen blanched with this but Black shrugged elegantly.

“Come on Princess, you know how they are, trust them a bit.”
“I say we go to check now.” Hermione put it steely.
“I agree,” seconded Minerva. “If they are fighting in the seventh floor we’ll hear it from the stairs and we’ll wait to offer first aid, if they are in the room we’ll see.”
Hermione nodded vigorously and Roger, Imogen and Black reluctantly fallowed her, only Prince looked hesitant now, he had some sense to not allow the girls in there, but he didn’t say a word.
Abraxas who hadn’t contributed almost anything else in the discussion so far and was only leaning in a debonair way against the wall suddenly found his voice.
“Come now fellows,” he drawled in an artfully bored tone.

“Do we really want to interrupt them?”
Wait a moment, something dangerous flared inside Sam’s mindset as the facts in his mind were finally correlating. It wasn’t so much what Malfoy had said, but at how he said it, knowing and smug. Sam forgot the girls and his manners; the only thing that mattered any more was his bitterness and spite, both at being used like that and losing Harry, just when it looked like he could have a chance, and the justified anger. . .
“You arse,” he grid out, “you set me up, I never had a chance with Harry. The whole thing was just for Riddle to get jealous.”
Everyone froze with his declaration, and then it was utter chaos. . . the only replies that Sam managed to made out were Black’s enthusiastic one: “You dog! I hadn’t you capable for something like this!” and Prince’s, much less enthusiastic counter: “Tom is going to kill you.”
Abraxas paled even more and tried to defend himself to not much success in this noise.
Sam was having the time of his life, he wasn’t a vengeful person, far from it, but it was sort of nice to see the person that got him in trouble, (he was scared to bits for a possible retaliation from Riddle, even, or especially, if Harry supported him, as it was his style) facing exactly the same thing. That lasted until Granger opened he mouth:
“This can’t be,” she defended with indignation and Sam’s vindictive pleasure was out of the window, he had forgotten her. A girlfriend, never mind a fiancée, had nothing to do with these things and should remain properly unaware at all times, yet, he had gotten and blew things up, himself, there was no way whatsoever to avoid death at Riddle’s hands. . . he despaired. . . but then she continued:

“Harry would have never had agreed in such a play.” and he felt like his world was tilted sideways.
Where was the anger, the resentment, the disgust. . . with her boyfriend looking at another boy, her best friend to boot? Her only problem with this, what truly made her indignant, was the allegation that her best friend was deceitful enough to use another boy to get at said boyfriend. . .Sam wanted a fiancée like that!
“I never said that Harry had anything to do with this,” he defended, “he was as innocent as me in this, he didn’t even approach me with the intention of flirting. As I said it was Malfoy’s fault.”
But Abraxas had enough of this and instead of trying again to slippery get out of the accusation he answered with dignity:

“I never lied to you. No matter how I hope this will end for my friends, Tom and Harry weren’t dating at the time and you’re mistaken if you think that you never had a chance. You are the only one, except Tom, that he truly reacted in this way. Harry is emotional; if things had gotten bad you were the only insurance that he wouldn’t take for places unknown.”
Heat bloomed at Sam’s face.

“R-really?!” he stammered.
Abraxas smiled teasingly.

“Yes, and even now it’s not like you gain nothing.”
“Like what?” Sam looked suspiciously; it was the exact smile that got him in trouble at the first place.
Abraxas beamed.

“You are the most popular boy in the school after them, if I’m right and they are finally together, all the offers they were getting will turn to you and me. People have a way to know when someone is truly unavailable; you can have your pick with the boys and I with the girls. My friends could have their share to the benefits too, but they got and fell in love,” he smiled towards his friends.

“What do you say Diggory?”
Sam was still blushing and he refused to even think about the possibility that Abraxas’ plan had failed. By the way they were with each other, and mostly the way they fought, Tom and Harry were certainly in love, he had no business interfering to this. He smiled.

“Assuming that Riddle doesn’t kill me, you are on.”
Abraxas rubbed his hands.

“Assuming the same: Good!”
“Came now, Brax,” Hermione interfered, “We will keep this to ourselves.”
Black was laughing.

“As the Zabini heir would say: Omertà.”
But Abraxas didn’t look completely reassured, his eyes were on Prince.
“Not a single word,” Zevi finally said, “I swear. As Alphard said, Omertà. . .”
Abraxas relaxed and everyone else repeated the foreign word.

Sam had no idea what it mean but he didn’t sense any repulsing to his magic so he added it too.
Hermione beamed to all of them but it didn’t last for long.

“That was good, but we don’t know for sure on what happened with the guys.” she observed.
“Seconded.”

That was Minerva McGonagall and just as firm.
“I don’t want you to go near them when they are like this.” Zevi told Granger softly and Black nodded vigorously.
San’s eyebrows rose up.
“Neither do I, Zev,” Hermione answered in the same tone, “but I can’t wait until morning to find out, not when they could be dying. . .”
Wow! This wasn’t exactly a tone used to family, but then again they didn’t look very alike, probably a misinformation that one, still, it looked like he had found out why Granger was so accommodating. Sam still wouldn’t mind something like that, much better than a little girl that considered him her knight in shining armour. . .
She started pacing.

“. . .There must be some way to check, I know it exist, I just can’t remember what. . .” she started wringing her hands again, “Maybe if I check up my room I could find it.”
Prince put his arm around her.

“No need I know the spell, it’s a dark one, but we need something of his, preferably his creation, for it to work.”
She bit her lips.

“Wouldn’t the” (she mouthed the word) “mark work?”
Sam thanked his good ears and that she was too ladylike to use a charm. Mark what kind of mark? But he knew better than to ask.
The others got interested in the discussion and surrounded her to hear better. . .
“No, he ensured it wouldn’t, else we would have already tried.” Prince sounded sad.
Hermione got a really determined expression.

“Then this will do, tell me what to do?”

‘This’ was a very small emerald pendant, snake shaped, very detailed.
“Yes, this will be perfect.” Abraxas answered after a fast examination.
“I’m not so sure.” Zevi contradicted him. “Are you sure he didn’t block it too? The consequences will be quite severe.”
Hermione nodded.

“I’m sure, he conjured it in front of me.” she assured.
“No parseltongue?” Zevi insisted.
Malfoy and Black rolled their eyes and Hermione had a tender but long suffering tone.

“No, Zev, no parseltongue, just the protean charm.”
Imogen and Roger looked at each other, surprised with the affirmation, but Sam had been close enough to them in the battle to know that both Tom and Harry were Parselmouths, so nothing new there, but still, something to consider the implications.
Prince let out a deep sigh.

“Alright, as he given it to you, you must be the one casting, but you will be pretty much exhausted afterwards.”
“Oh for God’s sake Zev,” Hermione almost growled.

“Give me that incantation.” she all but ordered.
He whispered it to her ear and Granger started muttering it to be sure, but as she took hold of the pendant preparing to cast Minerva stopped her.
“Wait, if its going to be so tiring, why not lend you power, that way we’ll share the effects.”
“I don’t know, Min,” Alphard half protected, “this usually works with light spells.”
Zevi thought it for a moment.

“I think the properties will work.” he said with conviction.
Minerva just looked at Alphard.

“Alright, I’m in.” he said half laughing.
Abraxas didn’t wait enough to be told, he joined the circle and Leonard Potter followed.
Imogen bit her lip.

“It won’t hurt me because I’m a Light Witch and muggleborn?”
Hermione smiled.

“I don’t think so.”
Imogen smiled too.

“Alright.” she grabbed Roger and joined the others.
“Imo?” Roger half protested.
“Shh, for me and Harry.” she told him and he pretty much caved.
Now Sam was the only one outside the circle. He didn’t particularly want to join in, not because he was such a Light fanatic that he was afraid of been contaminated with the Dark spell, but he would rather avoid Riddle’s feelings, especially if he was intimate with Harry. He had accepted it, but it still smarted.

Yet, he had sort of started the whole thing; it was his duty to see it to the end.

Resolutely he joined the others.
After everyone was touching the others, Hermione holding the pendant and Zevi her hands, she cast the spell. For a moment nothing happened and then he felt it. An echo of incredible possessiveness, triumph, passion and love, it lasted only a second but it left him dizzy.
When he raised his head, everyone was avoiding the eyes of the others and blushing. Hermione and Zev were the brightest as they had felt it the strongest, they were also still holding hands, but he doubted that it had anything to do with the circumstances.
Abraxas and he were going to have quite the offers after all. . .
Abraxas, found his voice first.

“Well, looks like mission successful!” he drawled.
“He is going to kill us. Both of them will.” Hermione breathed out.
“Indeed.” Zevi kept his voice steady but he was white as sheet. All of them were, as it finally sunk to them what kind of breach of privacy it was, and to whom.
The tense moment held a whole minute, but then Alphard found his voice.

“Well, we already know the word. O-M-E-R-T-Ά.” he spelled out.
The tension in everyone’s body was suddenly freed with a huge cleansing laugh.
“You know what?” Leonard shouted looking pretty much euphoric.

“I just won the school’s bet! Tom and Harry got together before the New Year.”
Alphard laughed again.
“Congrats, wish I had the guts to bet the same in Slytherin.” but the melancholy didn’t last long.

“What about you two,” he eyed Abraxas and him; “will you go and check how popular enough are you before the news spread, or will you wait?”
Sam didn’t have the time to answer.
Minerva’s voice was a dark purr.

“Would you wish to be free so you could join them?” long nails half caressed half dig into Alphard’s hand.
Alphard gulped.

“No baby, the funny thing is that Brax is already engaged.”
“So is Sam.” Roger piped out.
“I didn’t know.” Leonard pointed out.
Roger, that traitor, didn’t know to stop.

“It’s a Hufflepuff secret until the girl reaches sixteen; she is Deborah Smith from fourth year.”
Hermione crossed her arms.

“Shame on you.”
Abraxas shrugged elegantly.

“Me and Annelise have an arrangement, she is free I’m free.”
Hermione’s eyes lingered on him and Sam rubbed his eyes, seriously, 'She' was telling him that?
“She is just a kid.” he reluctantly protested.
She didn’t, damn it, stop looking like that.

“Harry won’t approve.”
This time it was too much. Sam laughed, it was kind of hysterical, but who cared anymore.

“You,” he managed to say.
Hermione had the grace to blush.

“Well, as everything else got out, we weren’t truly engaged, it was a ploy of Tom’s to get Harry jealous.”
Sam laughed and laughed, he didn’t know if it was from incredulousness or because even the great Tom Riddle needed such tricks. . .and it didn’t work too. . . but it was quite cathartic.
The others didn’t see it that way, they looked kind of embarrassed, but he didn’t care.
They couldn’t leave soon enough. . . First was Abraxas with a cool “Goodnight,”. . .then Leonard muttering something about “Finding Mel,” . . .Alphard and Minerva vanished somewhere to be alone. . .The last ones were Zev and an apologising Granger, his dearest Imogen and, the not so dearest at the moment, Roger.
“I’m alright.” he told her to stop her, “but it really was funny.” half truth, but who cared.
She had the nerve to examine his face before leaving but a soft.

“I wanted to dance with you all night,” made her blush and leave fast enough.
Only his friends stayed.
“Go inside guys.” he prompted “I will head to the dorms, I’m okay, but I have to think.”
“Alright.” a sheepish Roger finally agreed and they left.
Staying alone in the corridor Sam realized that it was pretty much true. Not about Harry, or not exactly. Tonight he had seen and participated in something incredible. Light and Dark wizards working together. . .
Even though the circumstances were dodged, there was only one common factor in this: Harry and Riddle.
He had known since the battle that they must be Lords to be able to face Grindelwald in equal terms, for all his much greatest experience. . . and were probably the only ones capable of defeating him.
But it went much further than that, he was enough politically involved, thanks to his father, to understand that should they win, the wizarding world was theirs for the taking, at any means they choose. . .
A world without distinction between Light and Dark Magic: the prospect both terrified and exhilarated him. He needed to decide which exactly, so that he could act accordingly.
Even if he decided to follow the ideal he wasn’t sure that he would actively help, he didn’t trust Riddle completely, with all that talk about killings and the man had quite the reason to dislike him, but he could fell to the fire for Harry and not only from his hormones. He had to see what to do.
One thing certain, tomorrow, in the train, he was going to take Prince, or Malfoy, aside, or even Riddle himself; if he had the guts, and warn them for Harry’s plan. Whatever he may decide, Harry wasn’t allowed to die.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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The Fate Changed Now What?