A Thread of Time

Chapter Five

*

The entire office was a dark world of dim lamps, strewn scrolls, open books and broken quills. Slughorn sat among them at his large mahogany desk, his dark gaze fixed on Harry, who shifted in his seat under its weight. Tom sat in the chair next to him, his eyes set on the professor.

“So,” the man said casually, finally drawing his eyes from Harry to rest on the piece of parchment on front of him. It had an undistinguishable scrawl on it. “The Headmaster thought it wise to inform me, as your potions professor and Head of House, of your condition. While I am intrigued either way, he did not find it in himself to fill in all the details.”

Harry wondered for a moment whether he was meant to reply, but the professor continued.
“At first I assumed the Headmaster had fallen for a mere prank, but in seeing that you have gained the… friendship of my most prized student,” he paused to send Tom a charming smile, “I must say that you have my belief.”

Bemused, Harry answered, “That is very kind of you, sir.”

“Yes, yes. It is. Now, what is your full name?”

This Slughorn, Harry soon came to find, was impatient, quick-witted and had a clockwork mind that manipulated every situation. He could almost see the wheels turning in the man’s head, although what was going on in there he had no idea. The man was quite different from the beaming, bumbling professor he had met in the future.

Harry answered the question and prepared himself for an onslaught of more. Every now and then he could feel Tom’s eyes on him, although Harry kept his gaze on the chattering man in front of him.

“One thing the Headmaster did tell me, and I was quite astonished, you must understand- was that you were formerly a Gryffindor.” He could not quite catch the level of disgust that Snape would have portrayed at the name, but he didn’t fall far from it.

“That’s right.”

“May I ask how that is possible?”

Harry hesitated, before saying, “The first person I met on coming to Hogwarts for my first year was a Malfoy. From dislike of him, and seeing he had been placed in Slytherin, I asked the Hat not to put me in the same House. So I ended up in Gryffindor.”

Slughorn’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “The Hat simply did as you asked?”

“It did.”

“Well, it is an explanation, at least. Although I fail to see how a dislike for someone can lead to an entirely different change of House. What House were your parents expecting of you?”

“They died before they had a chance to consider it, sir.”

“Oh? How old were you then?”

“About one and a half.”

Slughorn only looked mildly surprised at this, as though many of his students had dead parents. “So who controlled your upbringing?”

“Dumbledore. He sent me to live with my muggle family.”

A scowl crawled upon Slughorn’s face as he leaned back in his chair. “You had to live with muggles?”

“Yes. My mother was muggle-born. They were the only living family I had. I didn’t have much choice in the matter.”

“And how did these people treat you? Were they civilized?”

Harry frowned. “Not particularly,” he said slowly, wondering why the man was asking.

“How so? Were you neglected? Abused?

Harry scowled then. “I hardly think that that is any concern of yours.”

Slughorn leaned forward, interested. “Despite the rudeness, I’ll take that as a yes. You are very much like Tom then, who won’t explain his unpleasant past even to me.”

“Some things are better left unknown,” Harry said slowly.

“If I may, Professor, we have gone off subject,” Tom put in with his own pleasant smile.

“Of course, of course,” Slughorn sobered at once. “As our dear Headmaster asked, I have arranged for you both to visit Diagon Alley tomorrow morning, accompanied by Professor Priggs.” His lip curled in distaste, before he continued, “Tom, I must ask that you do me a favor. I ordered some potions ingredients last month that are late in coming; I would be grateful if you could… pay the suppliers a visit.” With this his eyes gleamed. Harry decided he didn’t want to know what Tom would do on this visit.

“Of course, Professor,” Tom answered smoothly with a slight bow of the head.

“Lovely. Now, Harry. I have for you here a copy of Tom’s timetable. Learn it by heart.” He handed it to Harry over the desk. “Don’t look at it now; I’m sure Tom will go through it with you when he finds the time.”

Harry nodded. There was a pause as Slughorn appeared to contemplate something. “Yes,” the man said absently. “Yes, indeed. It seems you have caught my interest, Potter. Perhaps you would like to join a little club of mine?”

When Harry hesitated in answering, he said, “It will be an easy way for you to gain friends. Especially if you are in some form of relationship with our Tom here.” The man almost beamed.

“I’m not in some form of relationship with Tom,” Harry said irritably, sending the boy next to him a vaguely irritated look. He received a devious smile in reply.

Slughorn looked vaguely disappointed. “No?” he said, before sighing. “Well, see to it that you come along anyway. I am interested as to how the others will react to you.”
Biting back a comment, Harry gave him an affirmative.

“Lovely. Now, you will meet Priggs in the Entrance Hall at eight tomorrow. Don’t give the man a reason to put you in detention by being late. Everything is taken care of; don’t worry about the matter of money. You will be shopping for clothes, school robes, a trunk, perhaps a pet and… do you have a wand with you?”

“Yes,” Harry said. It sat comfortably in his robe pocket. “And I already have a pet, sir.”

“You do?”

“He appears to have befriended an adder, professor,” Tom ventured.

“An… Adder?”

“Yes.” Tom turned to Harry with an intent look. “Why not show him Anton?”

Harry sent him a questioning glance, but pulled out the snake from under his robes. Anton was annoyed. “What are you doing? Put me back, stupid human, It’s cold out here.”

Harry scowled at him. “Don’t call me stupid, or I’ll ban you from mice for a week.”

Slughorn clapped his hands in delight. Harry looked up. “A Parselmouth! Why didn’t you say so, Tom? This is
simply wonderful. Clearly you are a true Slytherin, Harry. Yes, I shall be very pleased to have you at the club.”

“Thank you, sir,” Harry said quietly, feeling and no doubt looking slightly perplexed.

By the time Slughorn finally dismissed them, Harry had a headache. When Tom asked him if he wanted to retire to the Slytherin common room, Harry politely declined, imagining the noise.

“Then walk with me on the grounds. You clearly aren’t feeling well.”

Without waiting for an answer, Tom took Harry’s hand and led him towards the Entrance Hall.

“Tom,” Harry said suddenly, preparing to ask the thing that had been irritating him for a while now.

“Yes, Harry?”

“Why… why do you keep kissing me?”

Tom stopped walking and turned, an amused expression adorning his face. “I don’t know, Harry. Perhaps you could tell me?”

Harry frowned. “What do you mean?”

Tom raised an eyebrow. “Is it a problem, Harry? Do you want me to stop giving you my kisses? I can offer them to
someone else, if you wish.”

Harry had been completely unprepared for the question and stood there, opened his mouth and closed it, before scowling when Tom laughed softly at him.

“Don’t worry. I know you crave for my kisses.”

“I do not,” Harry said, affronted.

“Yes, you do.” Tom’s expression turned serious. “I know what you want, Harry. Perhaps you haven’t figured it out
yet.”

Harry moved slightly away from the other boy, feeling intimidated. What was he on about? “I think you’re
confused,” he muttered. “I’ve only been here a couple of days.”

“Really?” Tom moved in, taking a hold of Harry’s shoulder and holding him firmly against the wall. His other hand
settled in Harry’s hair, much to the boy’s distress.

“Tell me to go away, then,” Tom said, planting a light kiss on Harry’s lips. Harry simply glared at him, caught
up in wanting Tom to kiss him more, and wanting to push the boy away.

“Well?” he placed more fluttery kisses along Harry’s jaw, using the hand in his hair to gently tilt the other
boy’s head to the side, giving him access to his neck.

“Stop that,” Harry uttered, placing his hands on Tom’s chest in a weak attempt to barrier himself from the other
boy.

“No, not when I know you are enjoying this as much as I am.”

Harry was too slow to respond and soon Tom’s arms settled around his waist, holding Harry securely against him.

Seconds later found Harry’s own arms sliding around Tom’s neck, pulling him more deeply into the kiss that Tom
had initiated.

He could feel Tom emit a satisfied sigh into the kiss, and felt at ease. Was this what he had been afraid of? It
seemed stupid and petty to him that he had tried to pull away from it before. One hand grasping Tom’s tie and the
other his shoulder, Harry attempted to pull the boy even closer. He was slightly confused when he heard a loud
shriek from a few meters away.

They both broke the kiss to found Marie Bulstrode staring at them. Eyes wide, a hand over her mouth, she began to
sputter some nonsense about being betrayed.

However, Tom didn’t release Harry. Instead, he emitted an irritated sigh and said, “Is there a problem?”

Bulstrode stared at him in shock for a moment. “Yes, there is a problem!” she exclaimed finally. “He’s a
half-blood! What are you doing with him?!”

Tom returned his gaze to Harry’s, who was staring at him curiously rather than trying to push him away.

Yes, Harry thought - why exactly was the popular Tom Riddle openly kissing a halfbreed in a usually busy
corridor? What was he aiming to gain from this? Harry knew that Tom’s own heritage was a secret, and that he
hated muggleborns. What did he think he was doing, spoiling his reputation by welcoming in the new dirty-blooded
transfer student?

Tom returned his gaze to Bulstrode, having seen Harry’s thoughts through his eyes. “I make my own choices, as you
ought to make yours. Now go and spread your rumors before my wand finds you.”

Clearly Bulstrode’s confidence only went so far, for she turned and left immediately, a shocked expression
plastered upon her pretty face.

“What-” Harry begun, but quieted at the annoyed expression that flickered over Tom’s face. He covered his
disappointment when the taller boy released him.

“Let’s go for that walk, shall we?” Tom said, and took Harry’s hand again as if nothing had happened.


*


The sun was sinking in the sky. The fluffy clouds were no longer strong enough to hold it up, and its crimson
light fell scattered upon the lake. It cast shadows. Harry sat by Tom, who was staring into the distance. They
were sitting in the same spot he had visited the day before; next to a small clump of bare trees and rocks,
facing the lake.

Harry shivered. Tom was being oddly quiet. It hadn’t taken Harry long to realize that the other boy occasionally
had the odd sudden mood swing. However, Tom rarely revealed his anger, and usually used his charm to mask his
annoyance.

Harry was caught by surprise when the boy turned and stared at him with a vibrant gaze. “You’re cold,” Tom said
softly, almost as if he cared, and pulled Harry close to him. It took a while for Harry to relax with his head on
Tom’s shoulder, but he did, and soon felt himself on the verges of dozing off.

“What did your muggle family do to you?” Tom asked suddenly, without moving.

Harry stiffened and sat up. “Why?”

Tom looked at him. “I’m curious. You know many of my secrets, after all. I know next to nothing about you. Won’t
you share a few things with me?”

Harry hesitated. He knew it wasn’t a good idea, but… he took his wand from his pocket and pointed it at his
forehead. He hadn’t used this spell in quite a while, and hoped it would work. He ignored Tom’s frown and closed
his eyes, concentrating on a memory. He chose the time when Uncle Vernon had shoved him in his cupboard for
ruining the breakfast. He could remember the blisters on his hands and the terror he felt watching Uncle Vernon
stormed up to him and grabbed his arm hard enough to leave finger marks. Dudley had stood in the corner watching
with glee and Aunt Petunia just looked on with pursed lips.

A second later, Harry drew the memory from his mind, as one would with a pensive, and held it shimmering at the
end of his wand. This spell needed no words. Tom looked vaguely impressed; Harry supposed the spell hadn’t been
invented yet.

“Here,” he said, feeling slightly sick. He handed his wand to Tom, the memory still a shimmering ball of silver
at the tip. “It’s a memory. Emotions and all. Take it.”

Tom didn’t say anything, but carefully took the wand. He looked at Harry questioningly.

“Just point it to your forehead,” Harry explained. He watched as Tom absorbed the memory, trails of silver
disappearing into his mind. The memory was only about twenty seconds long. Harry scooted up to lean against the
nearest tree and watch the emotions flicker across Tom’s face.

He saw a variety of surprise, fear, pain… and something that looked like recognition. Tom understood. He knew the
feeling of being shunned, hurt, ignored.

Harry took his wand back when it was finished. The other boy still said nothing. Then, taking his own wand, Tom
pointed it to his forehead and closed his eyes.

Harry was surprised. He hadn’t expected to receive a memory in return. Interested, he sat up and waited as a dark
look enclosed Tom’s features.

“Here,” Tom said expressionlessly when he was done, handing his wand to Harry.

The first thing Harry saw when he looked through the eyes of a young Tom riddle was a dark room. He could hear
muffled voices coming from the room next door. If he concentrated hard enough, he could hear…

“I just don’t know what to do with him! Today he locked young Joseph in that old shed – you know the one I’m
talking about, the one behind that dump, the caretaker’s house – he was in there for hours, until our little
Sarah heard the yells-”

A second voice interrupted. “Yes I know what you mean. Last week Toby miraculously fell down the stairs and broke
his ankle. No one saw it, but… the only other one up there had been that boy.”

“I just don’t know what to do! And you know they say strange things happen around him…”

“Yes, I did hear… all the animals gone, including Richard’s lovely old dog, you know the one, Jess I think her
name was-”

“And the odd pieces of furniture turning up everywhere? Of course that could have nothing to do with the boy, but
still…”

“Yes, I know what you mean. Nothing odd like this ever happened since he turned up-”

“We’ll never be rid of him, will we? His poor mother died and no one is going to want to take him in. Not with
the way he is…”

“That boy is strange. You’ll have to keep a close eye on him-”

“We’re trying, we really are. But he just keeps... well, suddenly going missing and turning up in the strangest places-”

The voices suddenly stopped as Harry heard a door open and a muffled voice speak. He couldn’t make out the words,
but the chattering women left with it.

Harry glanced around the room, his eyes growing accustomed to the darkness. He was sitting on a small cot in a
cramped room. A large cupboard sat opposite him and the door was on the wall to the right of him. On the floor were scattered a few smashed toys. Other than that, the room was empty. And damp. An onslaught of emotions hit
him – mostly fear and hate. But gnawing at the back of his mind, he felt a horrible want. Something he wanted
more than anything, something that would give him a great amount of satisfaction. Revenge.

The door suddenly opened and a light flicked on- but with that, the memory ended.