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batsutousaiTitle: Forgotten Prince
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
batsutousai
Beta:tsuki_no_suzu
Rating: PG-13?
Pairings: Voldemort/Harry
Warnings: Grey!Harry, Character death
Summary: The gods made a mistake and Lord Voldemort was born. When the gods try and fix their mistake, things don't go quite as planned.
Disclaim Her: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: Originally, I started this fic before Deathly Hallows, but it never got anywhere. Then I read Aisling-Siobhan's New Divide and Aya Macchiato's Rebirth, both of which follow the same premise as this fic and I thought, "Hey! I should work on that fic I never got anywhere with!"
So, here's that fic, re-started, post-DH and after having read two other fics with a similar premise. (If anything is stolen from the above fics, I sincerely apologise! I tried not to steal...)
This story starts a few nights after Dumbledore tells Harry the prophecy.
SPOILER-WISE: Character histories through DH, high possibility of Horcruxes, possibly Hallows (?).
-
'And then Harry's scar burst open. He knew he was dead: it was pain beyond imagining, pain past endurance–
'He was gone from the hall, he was locked in the coils of a creature with red eyes, so tightly bound that Harry did not know where his body ended and the creature's began. They were fused together, bound by pain, and there was no escape –'
~ Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Amer. pbk. pp. 815-6)
-
- Chapter One -
-
He was standing in the Great Hall, surrounded by first years. He didn't recognise anyone with him, didn't recognise anyone at the Head Table. What–?
"Patil, Kali," a familiar voice called. He looked up as a girl near him stepped forward to take the Hat and saw Dumbledore, hair auburn, holding a scroll in hand.
Is this one of Voldemort's memories? he wondered.
"RAVENCLAW!" the Hat shouted and the girl hurried over to the blue table.
"Prince, Lee," Professor Dumbledore intoned.
His feet started moving towards the Hat and he felt surprise. What? Prince? Why am I–?
The Hat slipped down over his head. 'Well, well, if it isn't the young Mr Prince!'
'If you compare me to my father, I'll burn you.'
The Hat seemed to chuckle. 'No, you're very much not like your father, and yet... Yes, I think you'll fit in best in... SLYTHERIN!'
He took off the Hat and handed it over, then made his way to the green table, where students were looking at him with greed in their eyes. Who am I?
"Riddle, Tom," Dumbledore called.
The future Lord Voldemort took the Hat and surprise crossed what he could see of the monster's features. Then, the Hat shouted, "SLYTHERIN!" and Riddle returned the Hat before walking to the table. He sat across the way and stared around at the frowns he was receiving.
The Sorting finished with some kid named Thornton and the food appeared in front of them.
"So, Kasper Prince's son has finally come to Hogwarts," a boy down the way commented.
"Rumour has it the boy is quite the waste of space," a female voice replied and laughed.
He pressed his lips together, disgusted. Purebloods thought themselves so much better than the half-bloods and mudbloods, but they were oh so similar. But he couldn't say that. Answering would only show them he was interested in a conversation.
"A halfwit, what a pity," another girl cooed.
"Better a halfwit than a squib," someone else offered. "Did you hear about the Weasleys' newest tragedy?"
"Did their traitorous blood finally prove itself?"
"One of the pack was expecting a letter this summer, but it never came."
"That should teach them."
The topic from down the table moved on and he quietly breathed in relief.
"You don't care that they talk about you?" Riddle wondered, eyes narrowed.
He shrugged. "They always talk. Let them."
Riddle sneered. "Are you really a halfwit?"
He opened his eyes wide and his left eye started rolling a bit. Riddle jerked back, horrified, and he laughed. That always seemed to be answer enough.
-0-0-0-
Harry jerked up in bed, eyes wide. He brought up his hand to touch his left eye, but there was nothing wrong with it. It was fine. He was fine. He was–
Who was Lee Prince? And why am I dreaming about him?
It had to have something to do with Voldemort. Every time something went wrong in Harry's life, it had to do with Voldemort. And the Dark Lord had been there, in the dream, hadn't he?
Definitely Voldemort.
But who was Lee Prince, then? And why had Harry been in his mind and not Voldemort's?
"Harry? You up?" Neville Longbottom called from outside the closed curtains.
Harry poked his head out, one hand absently reaching for his glasses. "Yeah. What's up?"
"I'm heading down for breakfast. Want me to wait?"
Harry considered that as he put his glasses on. On one hand, Ron and Hermione were still in the hospital wing. On the other, he wasn't feeling very hungry, not with this mystery hanging over his head.
Check the library, his inner-Hermione ordered in that ever-present bossy voice.
"You go on," Harry told his roommate. "I'll be down soon enough."
Neville gave him a concerned look. "Okay..."
Harry blinked, then remembered: Sirius.
Harry drew back into the darkness of his bed and closed his eyes tightly. His godfather was dead and it was all his fault. A prophecy was hanging over his head: murderer, or murdered.
The library, inner-Hermione reminded him.
Harry nodded and set about his morning routine. By the time he was done, most of the House had gone down to breakfast and no one bothered him as he hurried out the portrait hole and turned towards the library.
Madam Pince was nowhere in sight when Harry arrived, and that suited him just fine. He walked over to the line-up of Hogwarts yearbooks, wondering, as he always had, when their photos were taken for the bloody things.
Harry knew Riddle had gone to Hogwarts about fifty years ago, so he pulled out the yearbook for 1946, but there were no Riddles in there. There was, however, a Prince.
"Eileen Prince," Harry whispered and felt an indescribable sense of sorrow and love for the first year who was glowering at the photographer. And, somehow, he knew that Eileen had been Lee's little sister and that she hadn't attended Hogwarts until the year after he'd graduated.
Harry reached over and grabbed the yearbook for 1945. There, among the seventh years, were Riddle and Lee Prince.
Harry stared down at the teen in the photo; Lee Prince looked rather a lot like his sister, with long black hair tied back at his nape and pale skin. But Lee's eyes...
Harry scrabbled for the 1978 yearbook that he often borrowed so he could stare at the pictures of his parents. He flipped the pages and stared at the picture of his mum next to Lee; their eyes were exactly the same. Which meant Harry and Lee had the same eyes.
"How can two completely unrelated people have the same eyes?" Harry whispered to the pictures, but they had no answers for him.
The door creaked as a couple of Ravenclaws stepped into the library and Harry hurriedly put the books away. He swept past them, refusing to meet their eyes, and started down to breakfast; he'd go back later and look up more about Lee Prince.
-0-
Hours later, after visiting with Ron and Hermione, Harry once again found himself in the library. He was irritated, but strangely unsurprised to find absolutely nothing on Lee Prince.
Eileen Prince, on the other hand, had been quite the name in the Potions world for the five years following her graduation. Then, suddenly, she disappeared. Had she died?
Harry rubbed at his face and wondered how Hermione could ever manage to find anything in the library. Perhaps Hermione would even have better luck.
Someone flounced down into one of the other chairs at Harry's book-covered table. When the Gryffindor looked up, he was only a little surprised to see Luna smiling absently at him. "Hey, Luna," he murmured and tried a smile.
"What are you studying?" Luna wondered, picking up one Potions Masters of the 1900s, which Harry had grabbed on a whim.
"Noth–" Harry paused and considered the Ravenclaw. Perhaps Luna could help. "I'm trying to find a couple of people."
Luna set the book back down. "Oh? Who?"
Harry shrugged. "Lee and Eileen Prince," he admitted, seeing no reason to lie.
Luna smiled again. "You might try the obituaries from the Daily Prophet," she suggested.
Harry shuddered. "Obituaries?" he had to ask.
Luna nodded. "Oh, yes. The Prince line is practically gone. One last member is still alive, but I don't think he'll talk to you."
Harry leaned forward, hopeful. "Who?"
Luna blinked at him a bit owlishly. "Professor Snape," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Harry frowned and opened his mouth to deny the possibility, but then he was filled with the sudden sense of pride and sorrow at the name. Severus. Nephew.
Harry shook his head. "Snape is a Prince? Eileen's son?" he asked.
Luna nodded again. "It was quite the scandal," she agreed.
"Why was it a scandal? Was Snape born out of wedlock, or something?"
"His father was a muggle."
Tobias Snape, Harry's mind supplied, and he remembered the shouting man from Snape's pensieve. Such an angry man, but Eileen loves him. Kill him if he harms her.
Harry shuddered. That was... unnatural, how he just knew those things.
"What about Lee Prince?" Harry asked, shaking away all thoughts of Eileen and her husband.
Luna shrugged. "He died," she said.
Harry's heart leapt to his throat. Lee Prince was dead, and Harry had seen a memory from the other's point of view. What could that mean?
Luna smiled at him and said, "It's almost time for dinner. Are you coming?"
Harry swallowed and nodded. "Oh, uhm, yeah. Let me just put these books away..."
Luna got up without a word and grabbed a few of the books. Within ten minutes, all the books were up and they were making their way down to the great hall.
"Hey, Luna?"
"Yes?"
"Thanks for your help."
Luna gave him her ever-present absent smile. "Don't mention it."
-0-0-0-
He didn't recognise the house he was in, but it was a nice-sized townhouse which reminded him of Grimmauld Place.
A woman approached and it took him a moment to identify her as Eileen Prince. She looked somehow both happy and sad. "Lee," she whispered.
Harry – Lee, whatever – smiled at her, but it felt...sad. "Eileen," he murmured and pulled her into a hug.
Eileen gripped at his robes. "Lee, oh... I don't know what to do, Lee!" she whispered.
He sighed and kissed her forehead, drawing away. "Perhaps some tea," he decided. "And then you can tell me what happened."
Eileen nodded and they travelled through the house to the kitchen, where Lee set about making a pot of tea after forcing Eileen to sit at the table. Once the tea was done, he handed her a cup and sat across from her. "Now, from the start."
Eileen twisted the cup in her hands. "I was out with a couple of friends – you know how it is?" He nodded. "Well, we were out in London, seeing some of the muggle sights–"
"Why?" he asked, feeling honestly confused about that.
Eileen looked away. "We were curious."
He sighed and rubbed at his face. "Curiosity is dangerous, Eileen."
"I know that!" Eileen hissed. "I do. But it was just a couple museums, nothing too odd." She scowled at him and he sighed again. "Nothing happened there. It wasn't until we went to the park. We were... Well, we were walking along, minding our own business, when this pack of kids came dashing around the bend and we all sort of crashed into each other. And this man... Oh, Lee, he's so handsome!"
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Handsome," he repeated, not quite believing.
Eileen huffed. "Well, I like the look of him!"
He chuckled at that and shook his head. "I'm not one to talk," he admitted.
Eileen smiled just a bit and finally sipped at her tea.
"What happened then?" he finally asked. "I'm assuming he helped everyone up?"
"He didn't bother with the kids, just with us. He kept complimenting our beauty." Eileen flushed.
Ah, he thought, so this is why. "I see," he said aloud.
Eileen ignored him and continued with, "The others weren't interested, but you know, they're all married already."
"If Father had survived until your graduation, you'd be married as well," he pointed out drily.
"Yes, but you could care less."
He smiled. "I understand wanting to marry for love."
Eileen snorted. "Love. Lee–"
"Eileen, don't start," he warned, voice hard. "You've made your thoughts clear on the matter. He loves me, and I him. No matter what the rest of you think."
Eileen looked away, face arranged in a scowl. "I don't like how he treats you," she muttered.
He sighed, used to this argument. "You thought this muggle was handsome," he said, getting them back on topic. He had no urge to argue about himself and his bonded right now.
Eileen looked annoyed for a moment, clearly wanted to argue about his bonded some more, but he frowned at her until she slouched back in her seat, eyes on her cup. "He is," she muttered rebelliously.
He shrugged and sipped at his tea, refusing to be dragged into another debate.
She turned her cup on the tabletop. "He gave me his phone number. I went out on a date with him yesterday evening. And Lee..." She smiled at him, all arguments forgotten. "He's such a wonderful man!"
He considered her smile for a long minute, then smiled back. "It's your choice," he offered.
Eileen's face fell. "Tobias is a muggle," she whispered. "He'll–"
"I have made it quite clear to him that he's to leave you in peace," he said, and it came out sharper than he'd intended.
Eileen flinched back, an automatic reaction from when their father walked this house.
He rubbed at his face. "Eileen, I'm sorry. I didn't–" He shook his head. "It's your life, little sister. If you want to marry a muggle, then marry a muggle." He smiled a bit at that. "If nothing else, it would make Father turn over in his grave."
Eileen's eyes widened, then she smiled. "He would, wouldn't he?"
They both laughed together.
Eventually, they calmed down and Eileen finished her tea. "What about...?"
He sighed. "Let me worry about Tom."
Eileen nodded. "Okay. Uhm... will you meet Tobias? Please?"
He smiled at her. "I would love to. I have to be your overbearing older brother that'll beat up your boyfriends."
Eileen giggled, then clapped a hand over her mouth, surprised. His smile just widened and she huffed. "Just don't scare him off!"
"If he can survive the older brother act, I doubt even Tom could scare him off," he commented drily. "Especially when your older brother can be so disturbing." So saying, he widened his eyes and his left eye turned around on its own.
Eileen covered her face with her hands, moaning about halfwits, and he laughed.
-0-0-0-
The next day found Harry again in the library, glad for the distraction from thoughts of Sirius. He wanted to know why he was dreaming of Lee Prince.
Madam Pince had been perfectly willing to lend him back copies of the Daily Prophet, though she'd been dubious when he'd admitted that he didn't know what sort of date-range he was looking for. In the end, she'd just unlocked the room the issues were kept in and left him to it.
That was where Luna found him just before dinner. She slipped into the room and sat next to Harry, picking up a Prophet he'd already discarded as being useless. They both remained silent for some time, with Luna reading an article from the summer of 1956 while Harry looked through the obituaries of three other papers.
Finally, Luna put the paper down and said, "Dinner?"
Harry sighed at the mess he'd made. "Yeah," he agreed and they quickly cleaned up before heading down.
-0-0-0-
He was reading in the Hogwarts library. The Defence Journal was always an interesting read, though his father would, no doubt, prefer he read about potions instead. Let Eileen play with potions, he preferred his spells.
A bag thunked down on the table next to him and he glanced up to see the drawn face of the boy who'd spoken to him during the welcoming feast a few days ago. He raised one eyebrow at the boy, but Riddle ignored him and sat.
Nothing was said between them as Riddle pulled out some assignments to work on and he returned to his journal.
Finally, after almost an hour, Riddle asked, "What are you reading?"
"Defence Journal," he replied, lifting the journal so Riddle could see the cover.
"Is it for class?"
He gave Riddle a disbelieving look. "No. Why would I read something for class?"
Riddle scowled. "We're at Hogwarts to learn about magic. You know, classes and the such? Homework. Studying."
"Why aren't you in Ravenclaw?" he wondered, then shrugged at Riddle's furious look. "I don't care about classes. They don't interest me."
Now Riddle sported the disbelieving look. "You don't care about classes? How could you–?"
"Just give it up," he shot back, setting his journal down.
"But how will you get a job after school without good grades?"
He snorted. "Get a job?" he wondered. "Let me make something perfectly clear to you, mudblood: Purebloods always get jobs. All Os or all Ds, they can always get a job in the Ministry because someone, somewhere, is looking for one. Grades mean very little after Hogwarts."
Riddle stared at him, shocked. "But that's..."
"Wrong?" he suggested. "Disgusting? Messed up?" He laughed, but it wasn't a pleasant sound. "I know." He stood from his seat, picking up his journal. "Do your best if that's what you want, mudblood, but don't expect anything to come of it." Then he turned and left.
-0-0-0-
Harry left the mysteries of the Princes to the side for a day. He was more interested in looking into what Lee had told Tom about who got jobs in their world.
After a great deal of hunting and, finally, asking Madam Pince for help, Harry had documents in front of him that proved everything Lee had said.
Purebloods got precedence. Purebloods with money got the best jobs, those without got lesser jobs, half-bloods with money or status tended to get some of the same jobs as purebloods without money, and half-bloods without anything got the paper-pushing jobs.
Muggleborns got nothing.
Well, that's not quite true, Harry thought, looking over the names of those hired by the Department of Mysteries. The DoM tended to hire muggleborns with high grades more than any other graduate, and the aurors took anyone who met their requirements. But the rest of the Ministry followed the exact standard that Lee said they did.
Harry felt sick. How was this at all right?
Luna sat down next to Harry and smiled a bit absently. "Dinner?" she asked.
Harry looked over the papers strewn out in front of him and nodded. "Yeah," he agreed and they both set about putting everything away.
On their way to the great hall, Harry asked, "Luna? Did you know that the Ministry is so prejudiced in their hiring?"
Luna – who had been whistling the tune to a song Harry vaguely recognised from the wireless – helpfully replied, "The Ministry is prejudiced about all things."
Harry sighed and nodded, acknowledging that truth with a heavy heart. He hurt for Hermione, who wanted to join the Ministry and do something good there, and for Mr Weasley, who would always be stuck in his dead-end position because his family wasn't rich. Much to his surprise, he also felt sorrow for a young Tom Riddle, who had his dreams crushed of greatness when he was just beginning to envision them.
When Harry sat at the Gryffindor table with Ginny and Neville, the slightly older boy asked, "Harry? Are you okay?"
Harry smiled at their concerned faces. "Just reminding myself how corrupt the Ministry is," he replied.
Ginny chewed her bottom lip for a moment, then asked, "What have you been up to? I haven't seen you around..."
Harry shrugged. "Been in the library," he admitted.
"Why?" Ginny wondered, frowning.
Harry shrugged again. "Just... looking things up as they come to me. I dunno."
Ginny opened her mouth again, but Neville touched her shoulder and shook his head. Ginny subsided, but she looked a little irritated.
Harry smiled at his roommate, then turned his attention back to his food.
-0-0-0-
Riddle was in the bathroom again, tending to yet another split lip; Slytherins didn't take kindly to mudbloods being sorted into their House and most of them left the school by the winter hols. He wondered if Riddle would be the same as all those others, or if he would persevere.
He found himself hoping the boy would stick it out.
"Hey! Mudblood! Hurry it up!" Radolf Lestrange, one of their roommates, shouted. Then he turned to Antonin Dolohov, his best friend. "I never knew mudbloods could take so long. It's a wonder they survive at all."
Dolohov laughed nastily, face twisting with pleasure.
In the bed next to his, Alphard Black sighed and shook his head.
Lestrange turned to him, eyes sharp. "Something to say, Alphard?"
"Nothing," Black replied tiredly, looking down at the book in his lap.
The toilet door popped open and Riddle stepped out, scowling at the two purebloods who were standing in the middle of the room.
Lestrange sneered at the other boy's refusal to bow to him and pulled out his wand.
"Expelliarmus," he intoned and caught Lestrange's wand as it reached him. When all the other boys turned to him, murder or surprise in their eyes, he smiled a bit madly. "Mudbloods are beneath you, Radolf."
"All the more reason to curse him," Lestrange hissed, taking a step towards his bed.
He just smiled all the wider and took a hold of either end of the wand that wasn't his. Lestrange paled and froze. "Mudbloods are beneath you," he repeated.
Lestrange nodded. "Yeah. Got it. Don't snap my wand, Prince."
He shrugged and tossed the wand back to its owner, then looked back down at the journal in his lap.
Lestrange and Dolohov traded looks, then left the room.
"I don't need your help!" Riddle spat, furious.
He glanced up at the other boy. "Who said I was helping you, mudblood?" he asked. "Perhaps I was just avoiding the possibility of getting your blood on my journal." And he smiled coldly, eye rolling absently to one side.
Riddle flinched back from him. "Right," he muttered and climbed into his own bed. He drew the curtains around it, cutting him off from the other two boys.
"Why did you help him?" Black wondered after they sensed the silencing wards going up around the closed bed.
He shrugged. "Who knows. Perhaps I find him interesting."
"Mudbloods aren't interesting, Prince," Black retorted drily.
"Then perhaps I'm just crazy."
Black snorted. "Whatever lets you sleep at night."
-0-0-0-
Harry would have liked to spend another day in the library, looking for information on the Princes, but the train was leaving, so he climbed on it with his friends.
Other than an attack by Malfoy and his goons, which was stopped by a compartment full of DA members, the trip passed rather uneventfully.
When they were given the go-ahead at the platform, they hurried through to the other side and found quite the party waiting for them, for standing with the Weasleys and Grangers were Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks, and Lupin.
The teens were all greeted and hugs were passed around by the parents, then the magical adults led the way over to where the Dursleys stood, looking rather horrified.
This isn't going to end well, Harry thought.
It was when Moody lifted his hat to show off his eye that Harry realised that Lee's eye did rather the same thing as Moody's. Sort of. It did its own thing, at least, which was weird enough without all the extra magical properties of Moody's eye. Harry wondered why Lee's eye acted separately from his other eye all the time. Surely there was a vision disorder of some sort, but then why wouldn't he have had it fixed? Or couldn't he?
Moody was telling him to owl them if anything came up and Aunt Petunia whimpered. Harry nodded his understanding.
"Bye, then, Potter," Moody said, gripping his shoulder.
"Take care, Harry," Lupin added. "Keep in touch."
"Harry, we'll have you away from there as soon as we can," Mrs Weasley said, hugging him.
Ron gripped his hand and gave it a shake. "We'll see you soon, mate."
"Really soon," Hermione agreed. "We promise."
Harry managed a smile for them, words of appreciation stuck in his throat.
And, as he turned to follow the Dursleys out, he couldn't help but wonder if Lee had ever had friends like Ron and Hermione.
-0-0-0-0-0-
-0-0-0-0-0-
A/N: Good a place to end it as anywhere. See you next chapter.
(Oh, and Shara was having issues with Lestrange's name, since it looks too much like Rudolph to her. Anyone else wanna make something of it? *stare* )
~Bats ^.^x
..
Author:
batsutousaiBeta:
tsuki_no_suzuRating: PG-13?
Pairings: Voldemort/Harry
Warnings: Grey!Harry, Character death
Summary: The gods made a mistake and Lord Voldemort was born. When the gods try and fix their mistake, things don't go quite as planned.
Disclaim Her: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: Originally, I started this fic before Deathly Hallows, but it never got anywhere. Then I read Aisling-Siobhan's New Divide and Aya Macchiato's Rebirth, both of which follow the same premise as this fic and I thought, "Hey! I should work on that fic I never got anywhere with!"
So, here's that fic, re-started, post-DH and after having read two other fics with a similar premise. (If anything is stolen from the above fics, I sincerely apologise! I tried not to steal...)
This story starts a few nights after Dumbledore tells Harry the prophecy.
SPOILER-WISE: Character histories through DH, high possibility of Horcruxes, possibly Hallows (?).
'And then Harry's scar burst open. He knew he was dead: it was pain beyond imagining, pain past endurance–
'He was gone from the hall, he was locked in the coils of a creature with red eyes, so tightly bound that Harry did not know where his body ended and the creature's began. They were fused together, bound by pain, and there was no escape –'
~ Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Amer. pbk. pp. 815-6)
- Chapter One -
-
He was standing in the Great Hall, surrounded by first years. He didn't recognise anyone with him, didn't recognise anyone at the Head Table. What–?
"Patil, Kali," a familiar voice called. He looked up as a girl near him stepped forward to take the Hat and saw Dumbledore, hair auburn, holding a scroll in hand.
Is this one of Voldemort's memories? he wondered.
"RAVENCLAW!" the Hat shouted and the girl hurried over to the blue table.
"Prince, Lee," Professor Dumbledore intoned.
His feet started moving towards the Hat and he felt surprise. What? Prince? Why am I–?
The Hat slipped down over his head. 'Well, well, if it isn't the young Mr Prince!'
'If you compare me to my father, I'll burn you.'
The Hat seemed to chuckle. 'No, you're very much not like your father, and yet... Yes, I think you'll fit in best in... SLYTHERIN!'
He took off the Hat and handed it over, then made his way to the green table, where students were looking at him with greed in their eyes. Who am I?
"Riddle, Tom," Dumbledore called.
The future Lord Voldemort took the Hat and surprise crossed what he could see of the monster's features. Then, the Hat shouted, "SLYTHERIN!" and Riddle returned the Hat before walking to the table. He sat across the way and stared around at the frowns he was receiving.
The Sorting finished with some kid named Thornton and the food appeared in front of them.
"So, Kasper Prince's son has finally come to Hogwarts," a boy down the way commented.
"Rumour has it the boy is quite the waste of space," a female voice replied and laughed.
He pressed his lips together, disgusted. Purebloods thought themselves so much better than the half-bloods and mudbloods, but they were oh so similar. But he couldn't say that. Answering would only show them he was interested in a conversation.
"A halfwit, what a pity," another girl cooed.
"Better a halfwit than a squib," someone else offered. "Did you hear about the Weasleys' newest tragedy?"
"Did their traitorous blood finally prove itself?"
"One of the pack was expecting a letter this summer, but it never came."
"That should teach them."
The topic from down the table moved on and he quietly breathed in relief.
"You don't care that they talk about you?" Riddle wondered, eyes narrowed.
He shrugged. "They always talk. Let them."
Riddle sneered. "Are you really a halfwit?"
He opened his eyes wide and his left eye started rolling a bit. Riddle jerked back, horrified, and he laughed. That always seemed to be answer enough.
Harry jerked up in bed, eyes wide. He brought up his hand to touch his left eye, but there was nothing wrong with it. It was fine. He was fine. He was–
Who was Lee Prince? And why am I dreaming about him?
It had to have something to do with Voldemort. Every time something went wrong in Harry's life, it had to do with Voldemort. And the Dark Lord had been there, in the dream, hadn't he?
Definitely Voldemort.
But who was Lee Prince, then? And why had Harry been in his mind and not Voldemort's?
"Harry? You up?" Neville Longbottom called from outside the closed curtains.
Harry poked his head out, one hand absently reaching for his glasses. "Yeah. What's up?"
"I'm heading down for breakfast. Want me to wait?"
Harry considered that as he put his glasses on. On one hand, Ron and Hermione were still in the hospital wing. On the other, he wasn't feeling very hungry, not with this mystery hanging over his head.
Check the library, his inner-Hermione ordered in that ever-present bossy voice.
"You go on," Harry told his roommate. "I'll be down soon enough."
Neville gave him a concerned look. "Okay..."
Harry blinked, then remembered: Sirius.
Harry drew back into the darkness of his bed and closed his eyes tightly. His godfather was dead and it was all his fault. A prophecy was hanging over his head: murderer, or murdered.
The library, inner-Hermione reminded him.
Harry nodded and set about his morning routine. By the time he was done, most of the House had gone down to breakfast and no one bothered him as he hurried out the portrait hole and turned towards the library.
Madam Pince was nowhere in sight when Harry arrived, and that suited him just fine. He walked over to the line-up of Hogwarts yearbooks, wondering, as he always had, when their photos were taken for the bloody things.
Harry knew Riddle had gone to Hogwarts about fifty years ago, so he pulled out the yearbook for 1946, but there were no Riddles in there. There was, however, a Prince.
"Eileen Prince," Harry whispered and felt an indescribable sense of sorrow and love for the first year who was glowering at the photographer. And, somehow, he knew that Eileen had been Lee's little sister and that she hadn't attended Hogwarts until the year after he'd graduated.
Harry reached over and grabbed the yearbook for 1945. There, among the seventh years, were Riddle and Lee Prince.
Harry stared down at the teen in the photo; Lee Prince looked rather a lot like his sister, with long black hair tied back at his nape and pale skin. But Lee's eyes...
Harry scrabbled for the 1978 yearbook that he often borrowed so he could stare at the pictures of his parents. He flipped the pages and stared at the picture of his mum next to Lee; their eyes were exactly the same. Which meant Harry and Lee had the same eyes.
"How can two completely unrelated people have the same eyes?" Harry whispered to the pictures, but they had no answers for him.
The door creaked as a couple of Ravenclaws stepped into the library and Harry hurriedly put the books away. He swept past them, refusing to meet their eyes, and started down to breakfast; he'd go back later and look up more about Lee Prince.
Hours later, after visiting with Ron and Hermione, Harry once again found himself in the library. He was irritated, but strangely unsurprised to find absolutely nothing on Lee Prince.
Eileen Prince, on the other hand, had been quite the name in the Potions world for the five years following her graduation. Then, suddenly, she disappeared. Had she died?
Harry rubbed at his face and wondered how Hermione could ever manage to find anything in the library. Perhaps Hermione would even have better luck.
Someone flounced down into one of the other chairs at Harry's book-covered table. When the Gryffindor looked up, he was only a little surprised to see Luna smiling absently at him. "Hey, Luna," he murmured and tried a smile.
"What are you studying?" Luna wondered, picking up one Potions Masters of the 1900s, which Harry had grabbed on a whim.
"Noth–" Harry paused and considered the Ravenclaw. Perhaps Luna could help. "I'm trying to find a couple of people."
Luna set the book back down. "Oh? Who?"
Harry shrugged. "Lee and Eileen Prince," he admitted, seeing no reason to lie.
Luna smiled again. "You might try the obituaries from the Daily Prophet," she suggested.
Harry shuddered. "Obituaries?" he had to ask.
Luna nodded. "Oh, yes. The Prince line is practically gone. One last member is still alive, but I don't think he'll talk to you."
Harry leaned forward, hopeful. "Who?"
Luna blinked at him a bit owlishly. "Professor Snape," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Harry frowned and opened his mouth to deny the possibility, but then he was filled with the sudden sense of pride and sorrow at the name. Severus. Nephew.
Harry shook his head. "Snape is a Prince? Eileen's son?" he asked.
Luna nodded again. "It was quite the scandal," she agreed.
"Why was it a scandal? Was Snape born out of wedlock, or something?"
"His father was a muggle."
Tobias Snape, Harry's mind supplied, and he remembered the shouting man from Snape's pensieve. Such an angry man, but Eileen loves him. Kill him if he harms her.
Harry shuddered. That was... unnatural, how he just knew those things.
"What about Lee Prince?" Harry asked, shaking away all thoughts of Eileen and her husband.
Luna shrugged. "He died," she said.
Harry's heart leapt to his throat. Lee Prince was dead, and Harry had seen a memory from the other's point of view. What could that mean?
Luna smiled at him and said, "It's almost time for dinner. Are you coming?"
Harry swallowed and nodded. "Oh, uhm, yeah. Let me just put these books away..."
Luna got up without a word and grabbed a few of the books. Within ten minutes, all the books were up and they were making their way down to the great hall.
"Hey, Luna?"
"Yes?"
"Thanks for your help."
Luna gave him her ever-present absent smile. "Don't mention it."
He didn't recognise the house he was in, but it was a nice-sized townhouse which reminded him of Grimmauld Place.
A woman approached and it took him a moment to identify her as Eileen Prince. She looked somehow both happy and sad. "Lee," she whispered.
Harry – Lee, whatever – smiled at her, but it felt...sad. "Eileen," he murmured and pulled her into a hug.
Eileen gripped at his robes. "Lee, oh... I don't know what to do, Lee!" she whispered.
He sighed and kissed her forehead, drawing away. "Perhaps some tea," he decided. "And then you can tell me what happened."
Eileen nodded and they travelled through the house to the kitchen, where Lee set about making a pot of tea after forcing Eileen to sit at the table. Once the tea was done, he handed her a cup and sat across from her. "Now, from the start."
Eileen twisted the cup in her hands. "I was out with a couple of friends – you know how it is?" He nodded. "Well, we were out in London, seeing some of the muggle sights–"
"Why?" he asked, feeling honestly confused about that.
Eileen looked away. "We were curious."
He sighed and rubbed at his face. "Curiosity is dangerous, Eileen."
"I know that!" Eileen hissed. "I do. But it was just a couple museums, nothing too odd." She scowled at him and he sighed again. "Nothing happened there. It wasn't until we went to the park. We were... Well, we were walking along, minding our own business, when this pack of kids came dashing around the bend and we all sort of crashed into each other. And this man... Oh, Lee, he's so handsome!"
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Handsome," he repeated, not quite believing.
Eileen huffed. "Well, I like the look of him!"
He chuckled at that and shook his head. "I'm not one to talk," he admitted.
Eileen smiled just a bit and finally sipped at her tea.
"What happened then?" he finally asked. "I'm assuming he helped everyone up?"
"He didn't bother with the kids, just with us. He kept complimenting our beauty." Eileen flushed.
Ah, he thought, so this is why. "I see," he said aloud.
Eileen ignored him and continued with, "The others weren't interested, but you know, they're all married already."
"If Father had survived until your graduation, you'd be married as well," he pointed out drily.
"Yes, but you could care less."
He smiled. "I understand wanting to marry for love."
Eileen snorted. "Love. Lee–"
"Eileen, don't start," he warned, voice hard. "You've made your thoughts clear on the matter. He loves me, and I him. No matter what the rest of you think."
Eileen looked away, face arranged in a scowl. "I don't like how he treats you," she muttered.
He sighed, used to this argument. "You thought this muggle was handsome," he said, getting them back on topic. He had no urge to argue about himself and his bonded right now.
Eileen looked annoyed for a moment, clearly wanted to argue about his bonded some more, but he frowned at her until she slouched back in her seat, eyes on her cup. "He is," she muttered rebelliously.
He shrugged and sipped at his tea, refusing to be dragged into another debate.
She turned her cup on the tabletop. "He gave me his phone number. I went out on a date with him yesterday evening. And Lee..." She smiled at him, all arguments forgotten. "He's such a wonderful man!"
He considered her smile for a long minute, then smiled back. "It's your choice," he offered.
Eileen's face fell. "Tobias is a muggle," she whispered. "He'll–"
"I have made it quite clear to him that he's to leave you in peace," he said, and it came out sharper than he'd intended.
Eileen flinched back, an automatic reaction from when their father walked this house.
He rubbed at his face. "Eileen, I'm sorry. I didn't–" He shook his head. "It's your life, little sister. If you want to marry a muggle, then marry a muggle." He smiled a bit at that. "If nothing else, it would make Father turn over in his grave."
Eileen's eyes widened, then she smiled. "He would, wouldn't he?"
They both laughed together.
Eventually, they calmed down and Eileen finished her tea. "What about...?"
He sighed. "Let me worry about Tom."
Eileen nodded. "Okay. Uhm... will you meet Tobias? Please?"
He smiled at her. "I would love to. I have to be your overbearing older brother that'll beat up your boyfriends."
Eileen giggled, then clapped a hand over her mouth, surprised. His smile just widened and she huffed. "Just don't scare him off!"
"If he can survive the older brother act, I doubt even Tom could scare him off," he commented drily. "Especially when your older brother can be so disturbing." So saying, he widened his eyes and his left eye turned around on its own.
Eileen covered her face with her hands, moaning about halfwits, and he laughed.
The next day found Harry again in the library, glad for the distraction from thoughts of Sirius. He wanted to know why he was dreaming of Lee Prince.
Madam Pince had been perfectly willing to lend him back copies of the Daily Prophet, though she'd been dubious when he'd admitted that he didn't know what sort of date-range he was looking for. In the end, she'd just unlocked the room the issues were kept in and left him to it.
That was where Luna found him just before dinner. She slipped into the room and sat next to Harry, picking up a Prophet he'd already discarded as being useless. They both remained silent for some time, with Luna reading an article from the summer of 1956 while Harry looked through the obituaries of three other papers.
Finally, Luna put the paper down and said, "Dinner?"
Harry sighed at the mess he'd made. "Yeah," he agreed and they quickly cleaned up before heading down.
He was reading in the Hogwarts library. The Defence Journal was always an interesting read, though his father would, no doubt, prefer he read about potions instead. Let Eileen play with potions, he preferred his spells.
A bag thunked down on the table next to him and he glanced up to see the drawn face of the boy who'd spoken to him during the welcoming feast a few days ago. He raised one eyebrow at the boy, but Riddle ignored him and sat.
Nothing was said between them as Riddle pulled out some assignments to work on and he returned to his journal.
Finally, after almost an hour, Riddle asked, "What are you reading?"
"Defence Journal," he replied, lifting the journal so Riddle could see the cover.
"Is it for class?"
He gave Riddle a disbelieving look. "No. Why would I read something for class?"
Riddle scowled. "We're at Hogwarts to learn about magic. You know, classes and the such? Homework. Studying."
"Why aren't you in Ravenclaw?" he wondered, then shrugged at Riddle's furious look. "I don't care about classes. They don't interest me."
Now Riddle sported the disbelieving look. "You don't care about classes? How could you–?"
"Just give it up," he shot back, setting his journal down.
"But how will you get a job after school without good grades?"
He snorted. "Get a job?" he wondered. "Let me make something perfectly clear to you, mudblood: Purebloods always get jobs. All Os or all Ds, they can always get a job in the Ministry because someone, somewhere, is looking for one. Grades mean very little after Hogwarts."
Riddle stared at him, shocked. "But that's..."
"Wrong?" he suggested. "Disgusting? Messed up?" He laughed, but it wasn't a pleasant sound. "I know." He stood from his seat, picking up his journal. "Do your best if that's what you want, mudblood, but don't expect anything to come of it." Then he turned and left.
Harry left the mysteries of the Princes to the side for a day. He was more interested in looking into what Lee had told Tom about who got jobs in their world.
After a great deal of hunting and, finally, asking Madam Pince for help, Harry had documents in front of him that proved everything Lee had said.
Purebloods got precedence. Purebloods with money got the best jobs, those without got lesser jobs, half-bloods with money or status tended to get some of the same jobs as purebloods without money, and half-bloods without anything got the paper-pushing jobs.
Muggleborns got nothing.
Well, that's not quite true, Harry thought, looking over the names of those hired by the Department of Mysteries. The DoM tended to hire muggleborns with high grades more than any other graduate, and the aurors took anyone who met their requirements. But the rest of the Ministry followed the exact standard that Lee said they did.
Harry felt sick. How was this at all right?
Luna sat down next to Harry and smiled a bit absently. "Dinner?" she asked.
Harry looked over the papers strewn out in front of him and nodded. "Yeah," he agreed and they both set about putting everything away.
On their way to the great hall, Harry asked, "Luna? Did you know that the Ministry is so prejudiced in their hiring?"
Luna – who had been whistling the tune to a song Harry vaguely recognised from the wireless – helpfully replied, "The Ministry is prejudiced about all things."
Harry sighed and nodded, acknowledging that truth with a heavy heart. He hurt for Hermione, who wanted to join the Ministry and do something good there, and for Mr Weasley, who would always be stuck in his dead-end position because his family wasn't rich. Much to his surprise, he also felt sorrow for a young Tom Riddle, who had his dreams crushed of greatness when he was just beginning to envision them.
When Harry sat at the Gryffindor table with Ginny and Neville, the slightly older boy asked, "Harry? Are you okay?"
Harry smiled at their concerned faces. "Just reminding myself how corrupt the Ministry is," he replied.
Ginny chewed her bottom lip for a moment, then asked, "What have you been up to? I haven't seen you around..."
Harry shrugged. "Been in the library," he admitted.
"Why?" Ginny wondered, frowning.
Harry shrugged again. "Just... looking things up as they come to me. I dunno."
Ginny opened her mouth again, but Neville touched her shoulder and shook his head. Ginny subsided, but she looked a little irritated.
Harry smiled at his roommate, then turned his attention back to his food.
Riddle was in the bathroom again, tending to yet another split lip; Slytherins didn't take kindly to mudbloods being sorted into their House and most of them left the school by the winter hols. He wondered if Riddle would be the same as all those others, or if he would persevere.
He found himself hoping the boy would stick it out.
"Hey! Mudblood! Hurry it up!" Radolf Lestrange, one of their roommates, shouted. Then he turned to Antonin Dolohov, his best friend. "I never knew mudbloods could take so long. It's a wonder they survive at all."
Dolohov laughed nastily, face twisting with pleasure.
In the bed next to his, Alphard Black sighed and shook his head.
Lestrange turned to him, eyes sharp. "Something to say, Alphard?"
"Nothing," Black replied tiredly, looking down at the book in his lap.
The toilet door popped open and Riddle stepped out, scowling at the two purebloods who were standing in the middle of the room.
Lestrange sneered at the other boy's refusal to bow to him and pulled out his wand.
"Expelliarmus," he intoned and caught Lestrange's wand as it reached him. When all the other boys turned to him, murder or surprise in their eyes, he smiled a bit madly. "Mudbloods are beneath you, Radolf."
"All the more reason to curse him," Lestrange hissed, taking a step towards his bed.
He just smiled all the wider and took a hold of either end of the wand that wasn't his. Lestrange paled and froze. "Mudbloods are beneath you," he repeated.
Lestrange nodded. "Yeah. Got it. Don't snap my wand, Prince."
He shrugged and tossed the wand back to its owner, then looked back down at the journal in his lap.
Lestrange and Dolohov traded looks, then left the room.
"I don't need your help!" Riddle spat, furious.
He glanced up at the other boy. "Who said I was helping you, mudblood?" he asked. "Perhaps I was just avoiding the possibility of getting your blood on my journal." And he smiled coldly, eye rolling absently to one side.
Riddle flinched back from him. "Right," he muttered and climbed into his own bed. He drew the curtains around it, cutting him off from the other two boys.
"Why did you help him?" Black wondered after they sensed the silencing wards going up around the closed bed.
He shrugged. "Who knows. Perhaps I find him interesting."
"Mudbloods aren't interesting, Prince," Black retorted drily.
"Then perhaps I'm just crazy."
Black snorted. "Whatever lets you sleep at night."
Harry would have liked to spend another day in the library, looking for information on the Princes, but the train was leaving, so he climbed on it with his friends.
Other than an attack by Malfoy and his goons, which was stopped by a compartment full of DA members, the trip passed rather uneventfully.
When they were given the go-ahead at the platform, they hurried through to the other side and found quite the party waiting for them, for standing with the Weasleys and Grangers were Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks, and Lupin.
The teens were all greeted and hugs were passed around by the parents, then the magical adults led the way over to where the Dursleys stood, looking rather horrified.
This isn't going to end well, Harry thought.
It was when Moody lifted his hat to show off his eye that Harry realised that Lee's eye did rather the same thing as Moody's. Sort of. It did its own thing, at least, which was weird enough without all the extra magical properties of Moody's eye. Harry wondered why Lee's eye acted separately from his other eye all the time. Surely there was a vision disorder of some sort, but then why wouldn't he have had it fixed? Or couldn't he?
Moody was telling him to owl them if anything came up and Aunt Petunia whimpered. Harry nodded his understanding.
"Bye, then, Potter," Moody said, gripping his shoulder.
"Take care, Harry," Lupin added. "Keep in touch."
"Harry, we'll have you away from there as soon as we can," Mrs Weasley said, hugging him.
Ron gripped his hand and gave it a shake. "We'll see you soon, mate."
"Really soon," Hermione agreed. "We promise."
Harry managed a smile for them, words of appreciation stuck in his throat.
And, as he turned to follow the Dursleys out, he couldn't help but wonder if Lee had ever had friends like Ron and Hermione.
-0-0-0-0-0-
A/N: Good a place to end it as anywhere. See you next chapter.
(Oh, and Shara was having issues with Lestrange's name, since it looks too much like Rudolph to her. Anyone else wanna make something of it? *stare* )
~Bats ^.^x
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Date: 17/7/12 17:40 (UTC)More, please? *puppy eyes*
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Date: 17/7/12 19:22 (UTC)no subject
Date: 17/7/12 19:40 (UTC)I'm a horrible reader, aren't I? Next time I'll be good, I promise ^^
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Date: 17/7/12 19:50 (UTC)^.~
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Date: 17/7/12 21:10 (UTC)no subject
Date: 17/7/12 21:12 (UTC)no subject
Date: 18/7/12 00:26 (UTC)no subject
Date: 18/7/12 01:28 (UTC)Luna is important. Luna is, like, the queen of all things awesome. Also, the one of Harry's friends most likely to be okay with all this, I think.
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Date: 18/7/12 15:56 (UTC)no subject
Date: 18/7/12 17:49 (UTC)Luna, alas, isn't in the next...two chapters? I think. But it's summer, so whatever. She pops back in with a bit of a bang, though, once they get back to Hogwarts.
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Date: 18/7/12 18:58 (UTC)no subject
Date: 20/7/12 02:27 (UTC)Thank you so much for sharing!
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Date: 20/7/12 02:30 (UTC)no subject
Date: 20/7/12 02:55 (UTC)Have you read the person that did rebirths new one? Its called time and time again where harry is stuck in a kind of life groundhog loop. It is really good! It is cliche but it is is so unique at the same time which makes it awesome!!!
Anyway, back to avengers now :) so many neat and interesting fics over there.
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Date: 20/7/12 03:09 (UTC)I haven't! I shall have to look into it. *hums*
*drools* Avengers... Looooooookiiiiii... *bliss*
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Date: 20/7/12 03:33 (UTC)You are in for a treat with that story! It is harry/voldemort so :D I really like how the characters grow durning the story. I also like all the political manipulations that Harry does. In this story, he is a true slytherin though and though.
Avengers is awesome! I am guilt of reading a few Darcy/Loki and Tony/Loki. Mostly though I read Steve/Tony or tony/pepper or Bruce/tony and various combinations. I love ao3 and how it is organized so I can actually find the fic I want!
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Date: 20/7/12 03:53 (UTC)Mmmm... Yeah, def adding it to my list. (Actually, now that I think of it, I might have been getting updates via AO3 for that one. Probably saved the alert for the first chapter and forgot about it, 's what I usually do. *the shame*)
I've got one Steve/Tony writer that I'm following, but I'm bigger on Tony/Loki. And Loki/Thor. (And I'm surprisingly good with a side of Tony/Pepper, Tony/Bruce, threesome of some persuasion involving Tony with Bruce, Pepper, Loki, and/or Steve. Which doesn't usually happen for me. I usually find one pairing I love, another I can stand on the side, sometimes, but I'm not used to this mixing everything up stuff. It's...a nice change.)
AO3 is a god. A god of love and fandom. (Also, a tag wrangler's hell, but that's neither here nor there.)
I wish they didn't have to disable the sort by multiple tags feature because of the strain on the servers. Damn FFN for scaring all the pansies over, anyway. XP