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batsutousaiTitle: Nose to the Wind
Series: Like a Ghost in My Town
Fandom: Harry Potter
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Harry Potter/Lord Voldemort, James Potter/Lily Potter
Warnings: AU, violence, universe hopping/rebirth, Dark!Harry, werewolf!Harry, underage relationship (ish)
Summary: While Harry had been content with his second chance, that didn't keep him from thinking what he could have done different, how many people could have survived if he hadn't been set on the very specific path he'd walked. Third time is the charm, though, right?
A/N: So, here's the thing, I was feeling rather a lot lazy while sorting out the TriWizard Tournament, so I didn't actually attempt to make up any new tasks, because that was effort. Sorry/not sorry.
There is, in a couple chapters, something like an explanation for why the tournament remained the same.
Since a couple of people asked about what the Potter brothers look like, I threw together something using an online dollmaker, which is here on tumblr.
I've had a few questions about how old Harry is during given chapters, so I'm going to start putting his age at the start of each chapter, and I'll go back and add it to the notes of previous chapters at...some point.
Harry is 15, currently. (Hermione's just turned 16, Will has recently turned 14, and Chris is 11.)
Cross-posted to Archive of Our Own and LiveJournal.
Chapter Eighteen – The Sun Will Set For You
-0-
Harry didn't end up cheating to find out what the first task was, though he did make a point to pester Tom about it every time he visited, just because he could. That said, he didn't bother acting surprised when Will informed him – writing from the stands, because he'd apparently decided that playing commentator was awesome, and Harry sort of wanted to suggest that he be made the quidditch commentator next time he saw Severus – that the task involved getting a golden egg from a dragon.
'Nesting mother?' Harry guessed.
'How'd you know? Did you cheat?'
'Familiarity with dragons,' Harry lied, because he wasn't about to explain the truth to Will.
Cedric's method remained the same as it had in Harry's first reality, using a transfigured dog to distract the dragon while he grabbed the egg. Age had granted him wisdom, however, as he transfigured three rocks into dogs, then used a disillusionment charm on himself to keep the dragon from turning her attention on the real threat while he was trying to get the egg.
Jeanne André – Harry had found out about the accent for her name and the proper spelling of the Durmstrang champion's last name from The Daily Prophet, and had taken pains to correct his brother about both – had gone with the conjunctivitis curse, and suffered broken eggs for her trouble. Will reported the young woman had looked like she was going to cry when she was led away.
Zofia Wojczyk, Harry knew from the interview in The Daily Prophet, came from a family of dragon handlers, and so was particularly suited to this task. She had approached the Chinese Fireball slowly, speaking to it in a foreign language – the task commentator said it was Chinese, Will reported – the whole way. The dragon shot a fireball at her when she grabbed the golden egg and ran for it, but it mostly missed her, beyond burning a chunk of her hair.
That left Cedric in the lead, with Durmstrang and then Beauxbâtons following.
'Because we ROCK,' Will insisted.
'And you were complaining about the Hogwarts champion being a Hufflepuff,' Harry sent back.
'Shut up. I hope all the other tasks are just as awesome!'
Harry snorted, because if this tournament went anything like it had gone in his first reality, then next two tasks weren't really spectator-friendly. 'One can only hope,' he wrote, preferring not to dash his brother's hopes so soon, especially since he didn't know for certain. 'Are Fred and George cooking up a celebratory party in the Gryffindor common room?'
'Of course! So I'm going to shut up for a while and feed my sweet tooth.'
'I was going to say 'will wonders never cease', but then you mentioned your sweet tooth and I'm no longer impressed,' Harry couldn't resist sending.
Will didn't write him back again that night, and Harry snickered to himself as he went to bed.
At the beginning of December, Will solemnly informed Harry that Hermione would be remaining at Hogwarts for Christmas, because of the Yule Ball, and he and Chris kind of wanted to stay, too.
'I know,' Harry had replied, amused. 'I'd rather expected it, in all honesty, and Mum and Dad sent off a note this morning to you both, telling you you can stay over, too, if you want to. We'll go to Canada again or somewhere and I can work on my skiing.'
'No way! I'm supposed to stay better than you!' was Will's immediate reply. While Harry was still laughing about how easy his brother was, he sent, 'You're really not upset? I know you don't like it when we're at Hogwarts.'
Harry blinked, surprised, then snorted at himself; he'd hardly made it a secret that he didn't like having his brothers and Hermione out of his easy reach. 'I'm resigned. And the way you keep me updated, I'll know if anything happens.'
'You mean your spies'll tell on us.'
'I'll find out,' Harry settled on. 'Are you going to try getting into the dance?'
'I thought maybe I'd ask Cedric,' Will sent.
'Putting this under my bed, now.'
'Probably not, really,' Will said after a bit, and Harry expected his brother had had to stop laughing before he could respond. 'I might try sneaking into Fred and George's dorm and leave a prank for them.'
Harry snorted, guessing how that was going to turn out. 'You do that and I'll ask my 'spies' how it goes.'
'You suck.'
'You're too young for the response I want to use.'
There was another long silence, and Harry snickered to himself as he envisioned his brother trying to figure out what he hadn't said. And then, finally: 'I am putting this away and we are NEVER talking about this again.'
"Score one for me," Harry whispered, because Will had totally deserved that, what with his continued fascination with Cedric.
A couple days later, an owl came from Hermione, bearing two letters. One was the expected update for Lily and James (and Harry, technically, but she rarely had news that he hadn't heard from Will or Chris, first), while the other was addressed to just Harry. He frowned as he opened it, ignoring his parents' curious hovering over his shoulders.
'Harry,
'I feel really bad that Will and Chris and I are abandoning you for the holidays, even though Will keeps saying you don't care. I don't have anyone else to ask, so I was wondering if you wanted to attend the Yule Ball with me? Just as friends, I know.
'I already asked, and Professor Flitwick said it's okay to invite you, so you don't even have to borrow a favour from your partner.
'Hermione'
Harry just sort of blinked at the letter for a long moment, touched by the unexpected offer. Though, really, he should have known Hermione would try to include him, somehow.
"So?" Lily pressed, squeezing his shoulder. "Do we need to get you dress robes?"
"Yeah," Harry decided, because he really rather liked the idea of giving the Yule Ball another go, now he was much older and going with someone who he honestly cared about.
Although...
"You know," he mused when his mum hugged him, "I never actually learnt how to dance."
His parents traded conspiring looks. "We can fix that," James promised, and Harry resigned himself to Marauder-given dancing lessons.
Severus and Barty, as was the yearly tradition, showed up on the first Monday of the holiday. Harry was sprawled out in the living room when they knocked, working on a paper and failing to ignore Will's rambling messages (which Chris appeared to be getting, too, because he kept commenting, so it was a little bit like they'd both come home for the holidays, anyway).
"Studying, Harry?" Severus commented as the three adults stopped in the doorway.
"Lack of brothers to serve as a distraction," Harry replied, looking up with a grin. "Hey, Severus, Barty. Are you sure you should be leaving the school right now?"
"The dark lord is in residence," Severus replied drily. "I expect that will lessen any chance of mayhem."
Harry hid his face against the carpet and snickered to himself, because he knew, from Will, what Fred and George had planned for lunch and he almost felt bad for the two pranksters; it wasn't a secret that Severus left the school the first Monday of the winter holiday, so the twins had made plans to take advantage of his absence by bribing the house-elves to switch out some of the usual fare with magically altered food.
Once Lily had led the two professors into the kitchen, Harry pulled over his messaging paper and wrote, 'Will, bring your paper to lunch.'
'Why? Can't wait to hear about the prank?'
'Something like that.'
'Is Secret not at home?'
'He's here. Barty too.'
'Harry'
'William.'
'What do you know that I don't?'
'Death magic.'
'HARRY'
'How to dance.'
'He's not going to tell us, Will,' Chris offered.
'What the Hufflepuff common room looks like,' Harry continued, because he could.
'You SUCK,' Will complained, followed almost immediately by, 'DON'T'
Harry laughed to himself for a moment, then offered, 'Don't sit next to them.'
Will was quiet for the rest of the morning – Chris commented on the 'blessed silence' and Harry agreed with a laugh – but just as Harry was getting up to answer Lily's call about food, his messaging paper was taken over by Will writing, in huge letters, 'YOUR BOYFRIEND IS HERE?!?!?'
'I thought we'd agreed not to call him that,' Harry complained before finally heading for the dining room. "Sorry!" he called as he hurried into the room. "Hey, Mum, can I take my food back out with me to eat in the living room? I promise not to make a mess."
Lily eyed him suspiciously for a moment, but nodded. "Okay."
"Thanks!" He grabbed his plate and quickly filled his glass with water, then retreated to the living room to watch the drama unfold.
'Fred and George look a little bit like they're gonna crap themselves,' Will had written in his absence. 'I think he knows something's up, because he's looking RIGHT AT THEM and I am so glad I'm not sitting next to them, good call. You realise your boyfriend's terrifying, right?'
'PARTNER,' Harry insisted. 'Don't make me tell him what you call him.'
'You would never. You like me too much.'
'Lies,' Harry returned, though he knew he'd never tell on his brother to the dark lord. If only because he'd probably just laugh at how the word made Harry twitchy.
Will's report was fairly normal to start, other students around the great hall developing animal parts or their hair or skin turning colours, and the professors occasionally shooting knowing looks at the twins, or uncertain looks towards Voldemort, who was apparently eating very calmly and very obviously watching Fred and George. And then...
'Merlin's beard. WHAT THE HELL'
'You're a crap commentator,' Harry complained.
Chris – who had been quiet up to that point, but had clearly brought his paper, too – helpfully explained, 'Fred and George just turned into ghosts.'
"It is a spell, Master," Death helpfully offered, before Harry could even start to feel concerned. "It will wear off in approximately twelve hours."
Harry burst out laughing, really wishing he could be there to see the events. Also, holy shit, he did not peg Voldemort as a prankster, even though he knew the man had a sense of humour.
'HARRY! IT'S TERRIBLE!!!' Will had written, and it just made him laugh harder.
"Harry?" Lily called before appearing in the doorway and looking concerned.
Harry shook his head, trying to catch his breath and still breaking out into occasional snickers.
"What did the Weasley twins do, and are they dead?" Severus asked tiredly from behind Lily, and they could hear Barty snorting from the dining room.
"Oh dear," Lily whispered.
It was only because Harry could play off his immediate knowledge of events on having the dead keep him updated in preparation for the prank they'd all known would happen, that he was willing to tell them, "They bribed the house-elves to switch out the food with some of their creations. The dark lord cast a spell on them that turns them into ghosts for twelve hours or so."
Severus rubbed at his eyes while Lily choked out a laugh. "At least he didn't kill them permanently," he muttered before turning to return to the dining room.
Harry waited until his mum had followed Severus before looking back down at his paper. Both of his brothers had been trying to get his attention, Will in progressively larger letters, and he shook his head at them even as he wrote back, 'It's not permanent. Sorry, Mum and Secret came to see why I was laughing.'
'Your boyfriend is MEAN,' Will informed him, his writing far more normal-sized.
'I dunno. Fred and George can now boast that they're the only people Voldemort only half-killed.'
'FAILED to kill,' Will returned.
'If they actually go around claiming that,' Harry wrote back, frowning, 'he'll fix it.'
Will was quiet for a long moment before agreeing, 'Half-killed is good. I'll pass that on when they're themselves again.'
'Have they stopped panicking, yet?' Harry couldn't help but ask.
'Yeah. Everyone else, however...'
Yeah, Harry still sort of wished he was there.
Tom had been, unsurprisingly, quite proud of his little prank, when Harry visited him on Friday. He did make a comment on how quickly Harry's brothers had calmed down, but Harry just smiled and changed the subject.
Sunday late afternoon/early evening, Harry set about changing into his dress robes, a dark blue affair with bronze edging. Lily had originally been set on green for Harry, but he'd insisted that, since he didn't have any house pride to get in the way and he was going with a Ravenclaw, he wanted his robes to reflect that, though he'd been set on a darker colour than Hermione's cornflower blue robes, and Madam Malkin had found a colour that she insisted would work well with Hermione's robes.
Looking into the bathroom mirror after he'd changed and managed to mostly tame his hair, Harry decided he liked the robes, and he was particularly fond of the way the bronze edging stood out against the darker shade of blue, which he knew wasn't quite the case with Hermione's robes.
"They look wonderful," Lily told him when he came downstairs.
"I dunno about the hair, though, pup," Sirius helpfully offered from where he was sitting on the couch.
Harry pointed a threatening finger at the man. "Touch my hair and you probably won't live long enough to regret it."
"Stop threatening your uncle," Lily ordered, and it was clear from her tone that the phrase was becoming rote, as often as Harry responded to Sirius' teasing with threats. (The frequency had seen a rather dramatic increase once he no longer had to censor himself around Hermione.)
Lily casually conjured a yellow rose and held it out to Harry. "Give that to Hermione."
Harry grinned at her. "Sure thing," he agreed, and stepped through the doorway that opened for him into the Realm of Death.
Officially, he was flooing to Severus' office. However, given the dirty nature of floo travel, the fact that Harry couldn't – technically – cast cleaning charms on himself, and Severus' own need to be on hand in the great hall when Harry was due to arrive, it had been decided that Harry would travel by his own means to the headmaster's empty office. How Lily had explained this plan to James, Harry had no idea, but he was quite happy to leave managing his father and Severus' rivalry in his mother's hands.
Before he stepped back into the mortal realm, Harry checked with one of the spirits watching Hogwarts as to where Hermione was, as well as ensuring Severus' office was empty. Hermione was still getting ready in Ravenclaw Tower, so Harry headed in that direction once he'd entered the office. He took up a casual position at the bottom of the stairs up to the Ravenclaw common room and tried not to smirk when exiting students cast him uncertain looks.
Hermione showed up after about ten minutes, looking slightly rushed and uncertain. She slowed down when she saw Harry, a smile breaking out across her face, however. "Harry!"
Harry chuckled and caught her in a hug when she ran up to him. "Hey, Hermione." He pulled back and set the rose – which he'd used a bit of magic to turn into a crown of white primroses with three yellow roses woven in – on her head, using his greater height and a silent sticking charm to ensure it was settled securely around the rather fancy up-do she'd fixed it into. "There. Now you look perfect."
"What did you just put on my head?" Hermione complained, reaching up and very gently feeling along the crown. "Flowers?"
"Flower crown," Harry agreed. "Mum's fault, take it up with her. Or don't, actually; I don't want to be lectured on the proper way to give a girl flowers."
Hermione laughed. "Thank you," she offered.
"You're welcome," Harry said, entirely honest, and offered her his arm.
As they started down the stairs, Hermione asked, "I don't suppose you know why Will looked upset when I said I'd invited you to the ball?"
Harry frowned for a moment before the reason occurred to him and he groaned. "William," he said drily, and Hermione giggled at his use of his brother's full name, "has come to the conclusion that we are lacking a Hufflepuff in the family, and since Cedric Diggory is the Hogwarts champion, he's the best choice for the spot. So someone needs to be dating him."
"And the Yule Ball would have been the perfect chance," Hermione finished for him, shaking her head. "Isn't Sirius' cousin a Hufflepuff?"
"Pretty sure he's not counting Tonks because she's not a Potter."
Hermione's steps stuttered and Harry slowed down to keep pace with her. "I'm not a Potter," she pointed out.
Harry gently squeezed her arm and offered her a smile. "Course you are. Fostered, and keeping your dad's family name and all, but you're still a Potter where it counts." He carefully reached around and tapped her robe over her heart. "Right?"
Hermione hugged his arm. "You are going to stop being sappy right now, Harry Potter, or there will be hell to pay when my makeup starts to run."
Harry chuckled. "Yes, ma'am."
Harry couldn't help but notice that the armour wasn't singing Christmas carols in this reality, but the decorations in the halls were comparable to the attempts made during this same event in his original reality, with sparkling garlands draped over each of the portraits and the bannisters of the main stairs illusioned to look like they were covered in a light powder of snow, icicles hanging between the railing supports.
"What do you think of the castle?" Hermione asked, clearly having noticed him looking.
"She's gorgeous," Harry admitted, because Hogwarts would always have a special place in his heart, and he couldn't help but love it when she was dressed to impress.
Hermione looked smug. "Bet you've never seen the castle looking so amazing."
Harry laughed and squeezed her arm. "You may be right," he allowed, because it was hard to pick which reality he found more impressive.
"Oh, come on," Hermione complained.
Harry shook his head and smiled at her. "It is a little hard to top seeing the castle for the first time."
Hermione very clearly took a moment to consider that, then sighed and nodded. "Oh, I suppose."
"Oiy, Granger, what hole'd you pull that poor sod out of?" a voice called up to them from the bottom of the staircase.
Hermione's expression tightened. "Malfoy," she muttered.
Harry patted her arm and pitched his voice to carry to Draco Malfoy as he offered, "Don't mind him, Hermione, he's just jealous that he'll never look even half so gorgeous as you manage on a bad day, never mind right now." And then he turned a sharp-toothed smile on Malfoy.
Malfoy and his date, Pansy Parkinson, both blanched.
"Harry," Hermione hissed, trying to sound disapproving and failing.
"Is there a problem here?" Severus asked, as he stepped up behind the two Slytherins.
Completely opposite from how it had been in Harry's first reality, Malfoy shrank under Severus' glare and quickly shook his head. "Just going into the great hall, Headmaster," he insisted before tugging Parkinson's arm and making good on his escape.
Harry snorted and flashed Severus a wholly-human grin. "Hi, Severus. Thanks for letting me come."
Severus pinned him with a flat look. "What's my rule?"
Harry sighed. "No biting or clawing people, I know. I wasn't going to do anything."
Severus snorted. "Do try to refrain from terrifying my students, if at all possible."
"Leave that particular bad habit to the dark lord?" Harry suggested.
Severus shook his head and stepped back into the crowd of milling students.
Hermione let out a quiet giggle. "Did you hear what he did to Fred and George?"
Harry flashed her a grin. "Yeah. Wish I'd been there, it sounded brilliant."
"It was terrifying!" Hermione insisted, but she was smiling, clearly over the trauma. "We all thought he'd really killed them!"
"Nah, too much chance of those two sticking around to haunt him."
"Harry!" was the only warning that Harry got before someone bowled into him, which was just enough that he kept from knocking into Hermione. He looked over to find Will grinning widely at him. "Found you!"
"Hey, wretch," Harry returned fondly, before looking behind Will to where Ginny was coming down after him, her expression a mix of irritation and amusement. "Hey, Ginny. You look lovely."
"Thanks, Harry," she replied as she reached them, lightly smacking Will's shoulder as she stopped next to him. "Will said Hermione had invited you." She nodded to Hermione, who smiled in response.
"Yes. Apparently, being a squib isn't an automatic exclusion from all Hogwarts events, even if I can't actually attend classes."
Ginny laughed at that. "That's good to know." She motioned with her head towards the great hall. "Should we go find a table?"
"Absolutely!" Will agreed before dragging Ginny towards the doors.
Hermione choked out a laugh and Harry sighed. "There is way too much of Uncle Sirius in him," he complained, and Hermione laughed outright. "Come on. We'd best catch them up before they come across trouble."
"Pretty sure that's a lost cause," Hermione pointed out.
"You may be right."
Once in the great hall, they had to stop and try and spot the two younger students; a far easier task when Ginny's hair stood out in a crowd of black robes, but nearly impossible in the current sea of colour. Harry finally got smart and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and sorting through all the scents that came back to him for the familiar one that belonged to his brother.
"Found them," he announced after a moment.
"Harry?" Hermione replied, a strange note in her voice. "Did you tell him you were coming?"
"Him who?" Harry asked, even as he followed her gaze towards the front of the room, where Voldemort was watching him with that forcibly blank expression that Harry knew meant he was shocked. "Ah. No, it never came up. I'd sort of expected Severus would let him know." He offered the dark lord an apologetic smile, then nodded towards Hermione, next to him.
Understanding flashed across Voldemort's face before it fell into the bored mask that Harry expected he adopted for every public function.
"I'm sure I'll hear about it later," Harry commented, and Hermione let out a quiet snort of amusement. "Come on, I found Will and Ginny."
Will and Ginny had found Ron, who had come with Lavender Brown, and Seamus Finnigan, who had come with Parvati Patil.
"Great," Harry muttered to Hermione, "it's a lion convention."
"Look who's talking, Gryffindor," Hermione shot back quietly.
Harry snorted. "I should have let you lot keep thinking I was in Slytherin."
"Possibly," Hermione agreed as they joined the table.
Introductions went around the table, as Harry had never met half of them, for all that Seamus was Ron's best friend.
"So," Lavender said, "you're a squib, right?"
Both of the Weasleys, Hermione, and Will all tensed, but Harry just tilted his head to one side. "Yes."
"And they let you in Hogwarts?"
"Lavender!" Ron hissed, flushing.
Harry shrugged. "It's not like there's a rule against letting squibs into Hogwarts. We can see past the anti-muggle wards, same as your lot."
"Well, yeah, but you don't have magic."
"Of course he has magic!" Hermione exploded.
Harry sighed and gently covered his best friend's mouth. "It's a common misconception that squibs don't have magic," he commented quietly as he twitched his wrist in the right way to call out his wand. "A squib is a person who has magic, but cannot access it. These wands, squib wands, are set to draw directly from a squib's magical core, even though there's no developed pathway for the magic to be drawn through. The spells I cast? Yeah, they're set ones, because the wand can only hold the memory of so many spells, but they're cast using my magic." He slipped the wand away in the following silence, eyeing Lavender's embarrassed slump coolly. "I hardly find fault with you, given you're only repeating what you've been taught, and I'm used to hearing that, but I would appreciate it if you kept any further such prejudiced comments to yourself."
"I'm sorry," Lavender whispered.
Harry hummed and was, thankfully, saved from further comment by the entrance of the champions.
The air around their table was strained as they all ordered and started in on their meals.
Finally, Ron cleared his throat and said, "So, how about those Chudley Cannons?"
"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Ron!" Ginny complained.
Harry snorted. "They're losing. Again."
"Always," Seamus added, and he and Harry shared knowing grins. "How about we talk about a winning team for once, like the Kenmare Kestrels."
"Or the Holyhead Harpies," Ginny put in.
"Or Puddlemere United," Will added, citing the team that most of their family supported.
"Harpies," Lavender seconded when Ginny, Will, and Seamus all turned to her.
"I quite like the Appleby Arrows," Parvati admitted.
"Don't bother asking Harry and Hermione," Will suggested, before anyone could look towards them. "Hermione thinks quidditch is a waste of time–"
"And dangerous!" Hermione added, though it was clear she'd only said it because it was expected of her.
"–and Harry refuses to pick a team."
"It's not that I refuse to pick a team," Harry insisted, grinning, "I just don't want to get lynched in my sleep." Because he'd heard Sirius and James ranting about his favourite team often enough to know better than to mention them. (For Sirius, he'd heard the ranting in two realities, even.)
"This should be brilliant," Ron muttered before nodding towards Harry. "Go on, then."
"Lynched," Harry insisted, and Hermione let out a disbelieving snort next to him. "Traitor."
"Should we ask your boyfriend?" Will asked, thankfully switching to Atlantean, and Hermione muffled a snort with one hand, because she understood enough of the language to mostly keep up with the brothers, though she refused to speak it, insisting that her pronunciation was the absolute worst.
"Partner," Harry corrected tiredly. "And, no, he doesn't know. We don't discuss quidditch."
"That's never not rude," Ginny pointed out, and Will mumbled an apology while Harry shrugged, unrepentant. "Come on, Harry. Play the game."
Harry sighed. "Fine. I like the Bulgarian national team."
"Traitor to your country!" Will declared, and they all broke out into laughter.
Quidditch debate got them through the rest of dinner with only a few minor arguments, which were quickly soothed over simply because Ron was the only one completely nutters about his team, which helped keep any team rivalries from turning into a complete train wreck. And, too, Hermione wasn't above interrupting them with an unnecessarily loud comment about the dangers of the sport, which derailed arguments far more effectively than anything Harry could have come up with.
When it came time to dance, Harry was the only one who led his date out onto the dancefloor, and Hermione's bright smile as he twirled her around to the music was totally worth suffering his father's tutelage.
Harry danced two songs with Hermione, then they took a break to get drinks. Hermione dragged a loudly protesting Will out for the next song, while Harry politely offered to dance with Ginny.
"Your brother's a prat," she complained once they were on the floor.
Harry looked away from where Hermione had taken the lead in dancing with Will, barely resisting the urge to laugh. "Sorry about that," he managed with only a hint of his amusement in his voice. "Too much Uncle Sirius in him."
Ginny snorted. "He's the one who asked me, you know. Looked so desperate, I went and said yes. Didn't find out until yesterday that he only cared because you were going to be here."
Harry sighed. "As if I wouldn't have popped up to Gryffindor to see him before I left. I'm sorry, Ginny."
She let out a sigh of her own and patted his shoulder. "Nah," she decided, offering up a smile, "don't worry about it. It's not your fault the prat was more interested in seeing you than he was in doing right by his date." Her smile turned distinctly mischievous. "Actually, it's kind of adorable, the way he attaches himself to–"
"You know," Harry interrupted, amused, "I sometimes forget you're related to Fred and George, and I'm really not sure how."
"It's my winning personality."
"You have one of those? How come I've never met it?"
Harry got his foot stepped on for his joke, and Ginny abandoned him to force Will to remain on the dancefloor with her for the next song, leaving Harry and Hermione to share another dance, Hermione limping slightly, but looking rather like the cat that got the cream.
"Will's been suitably chastised?" Harry guessed.
"I've put the fear of the eagle into him," Hermione agreed smugly.
"Good show."
Ron and Seamus were the only ones remaining at their table once Harry and Hermione managed to extract themselves from the crowd of dancers again, and they made the executive decision to get a cup of punch to share from the drink table, then sneak out into the garden.
"He didn't look like he was having fun," Hermione commented quietly, once they'd walked far enough from the castle that the music was a soft accompaniment, rather than a blast of sound through the opened windows and doors.
"He who?"
"Your partner."
"Ah." Harry shrugged. "I'm pretty sure he only came because it's expected; no one expects the dark lord to dance."
Hermione sighed. "I guess. It seems a pretty lonely spot, though."
"Oh, it is," a familiar voice commented from behind them.
Harry and Hermione both spun around to find the dark lord, wearing his Tom face, standing behind them, his eyes glinting with amusement in the fairy light. Harry took a quick breath to make sure, then scowled and snapped, "I hate scent-blocking charms."
Tom smirked. "Consider it payback for not warning me you were coming."
Hermione cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable. "Should I leave you two alone?" she suggested, an attempt at humour in her voice.
Tom blinked, then pinned Harry with a flat look. "You told your mud–"
"Voldemort," Harry warned.
"–muggleborn?"
Hermione let out a noise that Harry was pretty sure was going to be a laugh before she choked it back.
"If you didn't want my whole family finding out," Harry retorted, "you shouldn't have kissed me in front of Mum; she made me tell everyone."
"Your mother is–"
"Amazing and wonderful?" Harry suggested, and Tom let out an amused snort. "I quite agree. I'll pass on your kind words."
"Spare me the indignity."
Hermione pressed her face against Harry's shoulder, muffling little sounds of amusement.
Harry wrapped an arm around her in a hug and flashed the dark lord a bright smile. "Hi. Aren't you supposed to be sitting up at the head table, looking imposing and angry, so the Weasley twins don't decide to try something?"
"I left an illusion behind," Tom admitted carelessly. "Miss Granger is quite correct in that it is a tedious position, though one I'm required to at least appear to hold, and for reasons far more grave than a couple of pranksters."
"I know," Harry admitted quietly, because it was no secret that tensions were high between Beauxbâtons and the other two schools. He reached out with his free hand, a motion that he didn't even realise he had made until Tom caught it with his own hand, their fingers lacing together in a way that was entirely too familiar and made Harry's breath catch.
Hermione leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Thanks for coming with me, Harry," she said, a fond smile curling her mouth. "Remember to say goodbye to your brothers before you leave."
"I know. Hey!" Harry caught Hermione's arm before she could pull completely away. "Thank you for inviting me."
"Of course." She tipped him a wink and sang, "Have fun~!" as she slipped past Tom and headed back towards the school.
Tom snorted and used their joined hands to pull Harry closer. "I suppose I can forgive you for telling her."
"Arse," Harry complained good-naturedly before leaning up for a kiss, which Tom returned without a pause.
"Dance with me?" Tom requested once Harry'd eased back down to his feet.
"What, inside?" Harry asked, surprised.
Tom frowned. "Not necessarily. You can hear the music well enough out here, and–"
"I wasn't saying no," Harry interrupted, amused. "I'm sure some of your Death Eaters know what you used to look like; I wasn't sure you'd want them to see you dancing with a teenager. Especially since I'm the son of two people who are still publicly against your rule, and a squib to boot."
Tom stared into the bushes in silence for a long moment, the thumb of the hand that was still caught up with Harry's rubbing circles against his hand. "I hadn't thought of that," he admitted. "Your parents–"
"Forget about my parents already," Harry suggested drily, expecting this was about how Tom had asked them to spy on other former Order members. "They already consort with one of your people, and no one thinks that means they're any less serious about their political stance."
Tom's mouth quirked with a weak smile. "Given. You don't care if this affair gets out," he assumed.
"Not particularly," Harry admitted, frowning, "but I'm not the one who might be labelled a paedophile." Tom flinched. "Nor am I trying to keep control of an entire nation, half of which already dislike me; the last thing either of us wants, I think, is to start another war over a dance."
Tom sighed. "Always so sensible, Scythe."
Harry stared at his fingers where they were spread out against Tom's robes, over his heart. "I've been in a similar situation before," he admitted quietly, and Tom stiffened. "Not the same, age wasn't an issue, but respect was." It was part of why Lord Sol had never shown his face to any Death Eaters, why he'd always played up his persona of precocious child when out in public as Harry Potter, only ever acting himself when around his people or that Tom. "It's a...tedious position," he offered, borrowing the dark lord's earlier turn of phrase.
:Irritating,: Tom hissed under his breath.
Harry smiled up at him, feeling far too old and tired. "That, too." He reached up with the hand that had been feeling the beat of the dark lord's heart and cupped his face. "I would love to dance with you," he admitted.
Tom stared down at him for a moment, utterly still, and then his arm tightened around Harry's waist and he found himself being led around the path in a rapid dance that matched the beat of the music coming from the great hall. Harry laughed and matched the dark lord's steps.
The next song was another quick one, but the one after that was slow, and Harry and Tom curled close in the centre of the path, more swaying to the music than dancing to it. Staring up into those red eyes, warm in arms that were both familiar and not, Harry didn't ever want the moment to end, because it was so utterly perfect.
And then Tom quietly hissed, :I love you.:
Harry felt his eyes widening, even as Tom stiffened, his expression shuttering, like he very much had not meant to say that. Harry did the only thing he could think of to keep Tom from completely retreating: He leant up and kissed the man hard.
Tom held still for one long, terrible moment, and Harry almost gave up and pulled away, but then the dark lord kissed him back just as hard, a hint of desperation and fear mixed into the motion of his mouth against Harry's. Harry held firm, gently coaxed him into a calmer kiss, before pulling back enough to whisper, "Do you need me to pretend I didn't hear that?"
Tom choked out a laugh and pressed his forehead against Harry's, his eyes sliding shut. "You are far too willing to sacrifice things in the name of my insecurities," he complained, the words quiet enough that someone would have needed supernatural hearing to know what he was saying.
"I've had to suffer through muggle primary school twice; my patience is well honed," Harry returned drily.
Tom breathed out a quiet laugh. "Muggle-raised. I knew it," he whispered, victorious.
Harry rolled his eyes, resigned to the way the dark lord hunted down scraps of his past realities. "You're absolutely ridiculous. Stop trying to figure out who I was."
"Never," Tom swore, and Harry let out an overly dramatic groan. Tom chuckled quietly at him, the sound kept securely between them. "No," he decided at last, opening his eyes again to stare down at Harry's curious look. "You don't have to pretend." Mischief glinted in his eyes, then, and Harry's momentary sense of victory ran and hid. "So long as you don't expect me to pretend I didn't hear your slip."
Harry blinked. His slip? Ah, in the graveyard, he recalled and barely resisted the urge to snort. "I'm not embarrassed by the fact that I love you," he replied.
Tom wavered slightly and Harry quickly grabbed the dark lord's waist to steady him. "Voldemort?"
Tom let out a snort, his expression twisting with a wry smile. "You say that so calmly."
"I've had years to get used to it," Harry pointed out, though it had really been more like decades. "Anyway, I'm not emotionally stunted."
The hint of strain in the dark lord's expression vanished and he levelled an unimpressed stare on Harry. "Really."
Harry flashed him a smile, letting show a hint of human-shaped teeth, even as he absently waved away an insect buzzing annoyingly close to his face. "Your mum agrees with me."
"Leave my mother out of this," Tom ordered, though it was clear that he was amused. "Go back to your mudblood and brother."
Harry rolled his eyes and leant up for a quick kiss before pulling away. "I'll see you on Sunday," he offered.
Tom's expression turned a bit queer. "Stay the night?" he requested, sounding a bit like he hadn't known he was going to ask that until it had come out.
Harry blinked. "Dad is going to shit bricks." Because he'd mentioned that conversation to the dark lord and been laughed at before Tom had admitted that he wasn't willing to go that far anyway, which Harry had sort of expected, familiar with the man's morals in that regard.
"Not–" Tom coughed. "Not like that. Just–"
Harry quirked a smile that felt a bit awkward. "I'll talk to him," he promised. "Good night, Voldemort."
Tom inclined his head. "Good night, Scythe."
Harry slipped back into the castle and decided to go down to the Slytherin dorms to see Chris before trying to hunt down Hermione or Will again.
After visiting Chris – and refusing to explain how he'd got into the Slytherin common room when Chris was currently the one with the Map – Harry did return to the ball. He found Will before Hermione, and his brother grabbed his arm and dragged him across the room before he realised there was about to be trouble.
"Hey, Cedric!" Will called as they approached a familiar couple, and Harry let out a helpless groan.
Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang turned to look at them, a sort of helpless smile on the former's face, as though he knew there was nothing he could do about the interruption. "Will," he offered, perfectly cordial, while Cho's expression twisted with dislike.
Will jumped to a stop in front of Cedric, Harry helpless in his wake, and said, "So my brother got permission to attend the dance and I decided he needed to meet you–"
"How many Potters are there?" Cho muttered, quiet enough that Will wouldn't have heard over the music and sounds of students talking.
Cedric shot her a quick frown.
"There are three of us," Harry said, and he couldn't help the way his voice had gone frosty. Will shot him a confused look, while Cho stiffened. Harry stepped up to his brother's side and raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the witch. "I happen to have exceptional hearing, Miss Chang."
Cho looked away, her expression tight.
"Harry?" Will whispered, touching his arm.
Harry flashed his brother a smile and ruffled his hair, because it was clear he hadn't made an attempt to fix it like Harry had his own, then turned towards Cedric, holding out a hand. "Harry Potter. I'm sorry my brother is a pest."
"Hey!"
Cedric's frown eased into a smile that was a little more real than the one he'd greeted Will with and he took Harry's hand firmly. "Cedric Diggory. It's good to finally have a face for the wild stories Fred and George like to spin."
"You know Fred and George?" Will asked, clearly surprised.
Harry snorted. "The Diggorys live on the other side of Ottery St Catchpole," he told Will before evenly informing Cedric, "Knowing those two, about half of those stories are a gross misrepresentation of my character, and a fourth of them are outright lies."
Cedric let out a startled laugh. "I'd offer to compare notes, but..."
Harry chuckled and nodded, wrapping a hand around Will's arm. "I completely understand. Enjoy the rest of the ball. Come on, Will. Let's leave your crush–"
"He's not my crush!" Will snapped, face taking on a distinctly pink tint, as Harry led him away from the sixth and seventh years.
Harry shot his brother an amused look. "And my partner is not my boyfriend, yet you persist in mislabelling him."
"Ugh." Will let his feet drag a bit as they circled the outer edge of the dancefloor, Harry keeping an eye out for Hermione. "Fine. I'll stop calling him your boyfriend."
"I would very much appreciate that," Harry returned. "Ah, there she is," he added as he spotted his best friend. He stopped and turned to look at his brother, feeling his mouth twitch with a smile at Will's mulish expression. "Stop channelling Uncle Sirius for a lark and I won't have to resort to Slytherin tactics."
"I don't like you right now," Will muttered, tugging to free himself from Harry's hold.
Harry let him go. "Go find Ginny and dance with her one more time before she hires Fred and George to deliver some payback for you ignoring her for most of the night."
Will winced and turned to scan the dancefloor. "Crap."
"Mmhmm." Harry gently turned his brother in the direction he could smell Ginny's perfume in. "That way. I'm going to stay long enough to see Hermione to Ravenclaw at the end of the ball, if you wanted to say goodnight," he added before Will could escape.
His brother glanced back at him, conflict in his eyes. "I'll keep that in mind," he said, clearly trying to sound like he didn't care about saying goodnight to Harry.
Harry just smiled and let his brother go; it was hard not to remember Ginny's complaint about how Will had so obviously only asked her to the ball because he'd wanted to see Harry.
Hermione stepped up next to him, wrapping one hand carefully around his arm. "Saying goodbye to Will?"
"Warning him he needed to pay more attention to Ginny before she remembered she could send Fred and George after him as punishment," Harry corrected, offering her a smile. "Which, on that note, very rude of me to skip off on my date for the night." Hermione laughed and shook her head. "Want to dance?"
"Yeah," Hermione agreed and they stepped onto the dancefloor together.
"Did you have a good time with your partner?" Hermione asked during a slower song.
"Yes."
Hermione gave him an expectant look. "Details, Harry."
Harry snorted. "You're as bad as Mum. I don't kiss and tell."
"So you admit there was kissing."
Harry rolled his eyes and wondered which of the terrible things he'd done in his last life he had to blame for Hermione's curiosity. "Yes, fine, there was kissing."
"And?"
"Hermione!"
They had to stop dancing because Hermione was laughing too hard. And, as much as Harry wanted to be cross at her prying, he really couldn't help but be happy that she hadn't dropped him like a bad penny after everything.
That said, he absolutely refused to say any more about the time he'd spent with the dark lord out in the gardens. Other than the fact that they'd danced. And Tom wanted him to spend the night on his birthday, but not that way.
(Okay, so, Hermione won that round.)
Stand Against the Moon Chapters:
Pro | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05
06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12
Nose to the Wind Chapters:
1 - Death Once Again || 2 - Bring Out All the Good Inside Me || 3 - Death and Living Reconciled
4 - Orphan Man || 5 - Using Gentle Words to Shelter Me || 6 - Living on Your Breath
7 - You Just Might Get it All || 8 - Never Want to Come Down || 9 - Only the Silence Remains
10 - Love is a Doing Word || 11 - Nothing Sacred || 12 - The Heart Yearns
13 - Mirrored in Your Stare || 14 - Camouflage Denial || 15 - Precious and Fragile Things
16 - Perfectly Reckless || 17 - Your Arms Feel Like Home ||
19 - Your Love Has Always Been Enough || 20 - Keep Up This Charade || 21 - Truth Like a Blazing Fire
22 - Give Yourself a Try || 23 - Done Pleading Ignorance || 24 - Your Razorblade Caress of Love
25 - Summer's Scent Still Lingers || 26 - Burn Out the Stain || 27 - Final Masquerade
.