A Thread of Time

Chapter Six

*

The next morning found Harry waiting in the Entrance Hall, Anton resting on his shoulder and Tom standing patiently beside him. Professor Priggs, whom Harry had had still yet to meet, would arrive any minute now.

As he lingered, Harry’s thoughts drifted over to his knew timetable. Luckily, Tom had selected subjects that
Harry was familiar with; Advanced Potions, Transfiguration, Defence against the Dark Arts (although, the reason
why Tom Riddle took this class was beyond Harry). However, he would have to try and catch up in lessons such as
Charms, which he had dropped. A quick glance at the list of books he needed to purchase revealed that he would
have to familiarize himself with all the texts, since they were far out of date in his own time.

His thoughts were interrupted when finally the Professor strode briskly through the doors to stand before them.
He was a tall, simple looking man with brown hair and a tired expression. Apparently, he had been a Hufflepuff.

"Good morning," the Professor said, his eyes resting on Harry. "As you probably know, I am Professor Priggs. I am
to take you both to Diagon Alley via portkey. When we arrive you will receive the money you need, but I will be
following you. Try not to get out of sight. I trust you will use the money sensibly." At this he drew an old hat
from his pocket.

He held it out. "Are you ready?"

Harry glanced at Tom, who gave a slight nod.

"On the count of three then. One, two, three-"

Harry grasped the hat and experienced a few moments of huge discomfort before landing messily in what looked like
the backyard of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Right," Professor Priggs said, adjusting his robe, as Anton hissed irritably in Harry's ear.

"Stop complaining," Harry said to him absently as he steadied himself and ignored his protesting stomach. He
noticed with envy that Tom appeared completely fine, standing casually with hands in pockets and a bored
expression adorning his features.

"Right," the Professor repeated, this time averting his eyes, clearly in dislike of Parseltongue. From the same
pocket he drew out a small bag and handed it to Harry. "You’ll find all the money you need is in there." he said.

"Let's be going, shall we?"

As they meandered through the bustle of Diagon Alley, Harry noticed that as a whole the alley did not look very
dissimilar to its existence in his own time. Puzzled, he mentioned this to Tom.

The taller boy glanced sideways at him. "I expect change moves very slowly in the Wizarding world," he mused.

"It's a very close-kept community."

"Do you know where you are going first?" Professor Priggs asked, catching them up.

Harry glanced down at the list. "Where can I buy casual clothes?" he asked, having no idea himself. Usually he
would be subjected to wearing borrowed clothes or Dudley’s huge hand-me-downs.

Tom took his arm and led him to a cluster of small out-of-the-way shops. Harry soon found himself standing in the
midst of a rather expensive clothes pile that the shop assistant had jumped to accumulate for him. Tom leant
against the doorway, arms crossed and eyes darkly amused, while the Professor sat some way away by the shop
window.

“Right, right,” the shop assistant was muttering, his wand sending tape measures flying about and clothes folding
and unfolding. “What colours do you prefer?” he asked suddenly.

“Um, black, I guess,” Harry said, unsure of whether he should trust the man not to pick out vividly bright
coloured items.

“Dark colours, then. Dark blues and greens for you, I think.”

In the end he ushered Harry into the changing rooms with a bundle of selected clothes and a nudge, almost
ordering him to try them on.

With a sigh, Harry dumped the pile on a bench and stared at it protestingly. A dark chuckle signalled Tom’s
presence.

“What are you doing in here?” Harry asked, confused.

Tom leant against the opposite wall, hands in pockets. “He sent me to help you try them on.”

Harry scowled. “I’m not that incapable.”

“No? then get on with it.”

Harry gave him an incredulous look. “And you’re just going to stand there?”

“Of course. What happens if you suddenly slip and need my assistance?”

Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed one of the shirts. “Then I’ll call for help?”

“And disturb the other customers? I hardly think so.”

Harry shook his head. “That’s ridiculous.” Honestly, he wasn’t too bothered about Tom watching him undress, as
long as he kept his distance. Quickly he tugged his shirt off and pulled the other on.

“There, done,” he announced, hands on hips.

Tom gave him a lazy smirk. “You still need to try the rest on.”

“I could just lie,” Harry argued, looking in dismay at the large pile.

Tom simply raised an eyebrow at him, so he scowled and sat by the pile, grabbing a pair of dark jeans.

“Dark blues and greens, huh,” he murmured, when Tom suddenly came to crouch down next to him. He ignored Harry’s
confused look, and instead took a gentle but firm hold of his chin and kissed him.

Not even bothering to resist anymore, Harry returned the kiss, one hand landing on Tom’s shoulder, the other
leaning on the floor.

He heard a gasp and a swish of robes before he pulled back and looked at Tom questioningly. “Were you trying to
scar him for life?” he muttered, referring to the assistant who had just run off.

Tom smiled at him and stood. “Of course not, Harry. He would have made a fuss, is all.”

Harry sighed and finally began to tug his trousers off to pull on one of the many pairs as Tom returned to his
spot by the wall. Thirty minutes later, he paid and they left the shop to a nervous, stuttering assistant. By now
Harry’s pockets were loaded with shrunken brown packages.

The next stop would be for school robes. He imagined Ron's expression if he saw Harry in Slytherin robes and had
to conceal a laugh.

A while later, as they made their way to Flourish and Blotts, Tom reminded Harry that he needed to visit
Knockturn Alley for Professor Slughorn.

Warily, Harry agreed that they would stop there next after he bought his books. By the time they reached the
small Potions shop it was around lunchtime. "Wait here," Tom said expressionlessly, leaving an anxious Harry and
a curious Professor Priggs on the doorstep. Next to the door sat a dirty sign that read: 'Maurice Magle: Supplier
of Potions and Ingredients.'

As they waited, Harry wandered slowly along the dirty cobblestone path, ignoring the lurking strangers and
looking with interest at the dark shops. In curious dismay he noticed an extremely out-of-date broom through one
of the dusty windows. Meanwhile, Anton's head slid up from the neck of his robe. "I'm hungry."

"Again? What happened to that poor mouse I gave you this morning?"

"I am bored of mice. I want to try a mole."

"Why a mole?" Harry asked, perplexed.

"The others say that moles are especially tasty."

"And where am I going to find a mole?"

"Use your magic."

Harry was startled when he suddenly felt a hand grab his elbow. He had been too busy conversing with Anton to
notice the small elderly man watching him with an excited expression in his beady eyes.

"Young master!" the man said, delightedly, hands rubbing together in glee. "Indeed, am I pleased to meet you!"

Harry frowned and moved away slightly. A glance around told him that Professor Priggs had wandered off to talk to
some woman.

"Excuse me?" he asked, hoping Tom would hurry up and save him.

The man invaded Harry's personal space once again and lowered his croaky voice to a hushed whisper. "Long has it
been since I have heard the language of the Great one!"

"What do you mean?"

"Salazar, young master! You speak his tongue. Why, if ever I can do anything for you, my shop is just over
there." He pointed to a small rundown shack in a nearby corner. He gave a horrible toothy grin and quickly
scurried off before Harry could tell him to get lost.

“What a vile human,’ Anton remarked. He appeared to have watched the whole encounter on Harry’s shoulder with
some form of curious disgust.

“That was your fault,” Harry replied mildly, noticing that Professor Priggs had finished his conversation with
the woman only to turn and talk to the person behind him.

“Do not be absurd,” Anton hissed, tickling Harry’s ear. “Where is your human?”

“My human?”

“The one who speaks.”

“Oh, you mean Tom? We’re waiting for him.”

“Is he your mating partner?”

“Er,” Harry said with a mixture of dismay and amusement. It was at that moment that Tom exited the shop to stand
beside him.

“Well?” Anton pressed, rising and swaying a little.

“No,” Harry glanced at Tom, absorbing his questioning look. “He’s not my mating partner.”

Tom’s lips quirked upwards and Harry rolled his eyes amusedly.

“What is he then?” Anton hissed impatiently.

“Um,” Harry managed. Luckily he was saved as Professor Priggs finally gestured for them to leave the Alley.

“Do you need anything else?” Tom asked, appearing to dismiss the conversation.

“I don’t think so,” Harry murmured, checking the list. “No… I’m done. You?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Are you done?” the Professor asked impatiently as they approached him.

“Are we leaving now?” Anton demanded with a similar tone.

“Yes,” Harry answered. “Yes, we can go and hunt some mole.”

Anton gave a delighted hiss and slithered back down Harry’s shirt.

“Good, let’s be going then.”


*


That evening, Harry wandered lightly through Hogwarts’ brightly corridors, dismissing sombre thoughts of Ron and Hermione and silently rejoicing in his abrupt un-famous existence. Tom was off at a prefect meeting of some sort, and almost everyone else was scattered on the grounds or studying vigorously in their common rooms.

The corridors were empty, and by the time Harry abandoned his daydreams he had reached the Entrance Hall. He
roamed outside to sit on the large stone steps by a blond figure in the weak autumn sun. The person turned out to
be a seventh year Slytherin who dubbed himself Chris.

“You’re the new student?” Chris asked, moving up a step to sit by Harry, who introduced himself.

Chris said, “I’ve seen you in the Slytherin common room with Rosier.”

“Yes, he’s a friend, I suppose.” Harry answered, unsure of what the boy was implying.

“Are you…. In a relationship with him?”

“Er, no, not at all.”

“What about Riddle?”

“He’s… also just a friend.”

Chris gave a soft laugh. “Alright. So what do you think of the school?”

Harry sighed and looked off at the grounds, elbows leaning on his knees. “It will do.”

Chris smiled in amusement and rested his chin on his hand, staring at Harry.

“You’re quite pretty, you know,” he murmured.

Harry turned to stare at him in surprise. He then laughed. “Pretty?”

“Would you prefer something else? Dazzling, perhaps?”

Harry, embarrassed, felt his cheeks grow warm. “Um. ‘Pretty’ will do.”

Chris laughed quietly at him and inched closer so that their thighs touched. “So if you’re not with Riddle and
you’re not with Rosier, who are you with?”

“Am I allowed to be with no one?” Harry asked.

“Well, no, not really. Everyone is with someone.”

“Oh? Who are you with, then?”

Chris smiled. “Why do you ask?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“I’m… temporarily unengaged.”

Harry smirked at him. “So you’re not with anyone either. Pathetic.”

Chris gave him a mock insulted look. “I’ll find someone soon enough.”

“Hmm, keep telling yourself that,” Harry said absently as he went back to gazing at the lake. He felt nice;
happy, like he wanted to float.

“You’re not very nice, you know,” Chris stated. “I decide to befriend the new boy and all he does is imply rude
things.”

Harry laughed. “I’m so sorry. If I knew I was causing so much pain, I wouldn’t have said a word.”

Chris smirked at him, but changed the subject, “I hear you’re in the club.”

Harry made an agreeable sound.

“What do you think of Slughorn?”

“He’s strange,” Harry murmured.

“He favours Riddle, you know.”

Harry turned to face him. “Are you jealous?” he said straightforwardly.

Chris appeared slightly taken aback. A thoughtful look then crossed his handsome features. “No,” he said slowly.
“I’m not jealous. Although, It is rather unfair that he manages to capture all the pretty ones.” He looked at
Harry pointedly.

“Capture?” Harry asked incredulously, amused.

“Of course. By the end of the week, I’m sure you’ll be smitten with him and his charm in one way or another. Just
like the rest of them.”

Harry frowned and leant his head on his hands, elbows on knees. “No, I don’t think so,” he said finally. “I don’t
want to be just another one of his….”

“Just another one of the many people he uses?”

“I guess. I’m pretty sure I won’t end up smitten with him, at least.”

Chris raised a brow at him. “We’ll see,” he said, eyes flickering with some form of emotion.

Harry suddenly felt a jolt of pity for the other boy. It could not be nice to live in Tom’s shadow all the time.

Chris stood up and Harry followed suit. “We’ll talk again some time?” Chris enquired, staring intensely at Harry.

“Of course. Do you… want to meet up at some point?”

Chris smiled. “Sure. Why don’t we meet here again tomorrow evening?”

“How about at eight?”

“Eight it is.”

*

The common room was full and warm, its contents separated into hushed groups. Harry slumped in one of the chairs in a dark corner and attempted to ignore the giggling and pointing. It was dark and comfortable, and soon he
drifted off into his own lazy world. A moment later Dorian came to sit by him.

“Nice day out with Tom?” he asked casually, inspecting his fingernails.

“I guess,” Harry said absentmindedly, watching Anton lazily coil up on his lap.

“I like this one,” the snake hissed sleepily, head resting on his coils.

“I think he likes Tom,” Harry answered. Dorian watched them with mild interest.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I think he wants Tom to be his mating partner. Or they are already mating partners.”

Anton, suddenly more awake, raised his upper body to stare at Dorian. “But this one wants you.”

Harry frowned. “I doubt that. I’ve only been here a few days.” He looked directly at the curious boy who raised
an eyebrow at him.

“Gossiping about me?” Dorian asked.

“Foolish human. He wants you. And so does your Tom. Do humans have multiple mating partners?”

“Um, sometimes,” Harry answered. “We’re just, er… discussing mating partners,” he explained.

The other boy offered him an amused smirk. “Is that what you snakes call it?” he said.

“What’s he saying?” Anton demanded.

“He thinks it’s funny that we are talking about potential mating partners.”

“Ask him if he wants you,” the snake suggested sibilantly.

Harry gave him an incredulous look. “No!”

“Why not? You have Tom. Why not have this one aswell? He smells delicious.”

“You like him because of the way he smells? Oh, never mind.” Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Remind me never to
get dating advice from a snake,” he muttered absently.

Dorian decided to snicker at him. “Your sense of ‘mating partners’ is really that bad?”

Harry scowled. “No. He just seems to think that I can pick and choose anyone and everyone I like.”

“What are you saying?” Anton interrupted impatiently. Harry ignored him.

“Perhaps you should simply decide who you want, then,” Dorian replied, back to inspecting his fingernails.

“What if I don’t want anyone?”

“Oh, come now. Everyone wants someone in some form or other. Take Tom, for example. He’s permanently horny and
tends to fuck anyone he likes.”

“Dorian!” Harry exclaimed, shocked. But that comment prickled at the back of Harry’s mind. Is that what Tom was
doing with him? Was Harry just the latest person for him to use?

The Slytherin raised an eyebrow at him. “Why so surprised? You didn’t think he was all romance and sunshine, did
you?”

Harry snorted. “Well, no.”

“Well then. Anyway, my point is, you must want someone.”

“What’s it to you?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“Me? I’m just interested in the latest gossip, is all. By the way, the entire school believes that you and Tom
are officially together.”

“What!” Harry exclaimed, and a little too loudly, for heads began to turn.

Dorian smirked at him. “So, it isn’t true. I just wanted to check.”

Harry scowled. “I bet it was Bulstrode,” he muttered.

“Why would it be dear Marie?”

“Because she walked in on us…” Harry murmured absently, staring at the floor and wondering what advantage the
girl had by doing this.

“Oh? So you’re fucking, but not together?” Dorian said amusedly.

“Huh?” Harry said, frowning. “What, no! We’re not fucking. We’re not anything.”

Dorian sighed patiently. “Then…”

“He keeps kissing me, that’s all.”

“He keeps kissing you,” came the dry reply. “Have you ever considered why?”

Harry scowled. “He won’t tell me.”

Dorian began to laugh softly at him. “You are lovely but pathetic, Harry.”

Harry gave him an incredulous look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing.” The boy returned his eyes to his fingernails as they fell into a comfortable silence.

“Well?” Anton voiced.

“Well what?”

“Are you going to mate with him?”

Harry sighed. “No, I am not going to mate with him.” Then he added, to keep the snake quiet, “Not right now,
anyway.”

Anton gave a satisfied hiss and returned his head to his coils.

“Come to a conclusion?” Dorian asked.

“No, I think I wore him out.”

“Well you are rather wearisome.”

“Thanks. I only just realized what a great friend you are.”

Dorian smirked at him. “Maybe that’s because I’m your only friend.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Tom’s my friend,” he argued weakly, knowing full well that he was nothing more to Tom
than a new toy. And strangely, the thought was somewhat painful.

“Of course. And you understand him about as well as Bulstrode understands mutual sex.”

Harry smiled. “What’s wrong with wanting to have a relationship? Even if the other person is an idiot…”

“Oh, nothing is wrong with a relationship. Nothing at all. But why tie yourself to one person when you can have a
bit of everyone?”

“Everyone?” Harry said, visibly edging his chair away.

Dorian smirked at him. “Well, maybe not Bulstrode. Or her idiot boyfriend, for that matter. Or Slughorn.”

Harry answered with something along the lines of, ‘Ugh,’ and shuddered.

Dorian just continued to smirk.

“Your human is coming,” Anton said sleepily, and Harry glanced up to see Tom entering the common room.

“There’s a party coming up, you know,” Dorian said casually as Tom’s eyes landed on them.

Harry dragged his eyes away from the approaching figure and fixed them on Dorian.

“Oh?” he said.

“Yes. Tom tells me you have been invited into the club. I’m sure you’ll be allowed to attend the party.”

“What’s it for?” Harry said as Tom reached them.

“I don’t rightly know, but there is a meeting tomorrow.”

“There is no particular reason, as far as I can tell,” Tom informed them, as his eyes met Harry’s. “And Professor
Dumbledore would like to see you when you are available.”

“Alright,” Harry said warily. Had they already figured out how to send him back?

“Well, I’m off,” Dorian said with a smirk. “I’ll see you two lovelys in the morning.” Harry watched as the boy
wandered in the direction of the dormitory.

“I want to go to bed,” Anton murmured when Harry picked him up and stood.

“Snakes don’t sleep in beds,” he answered absently.

Tom gave him an amused smile. “I think you’ll find that they do. Goodnight, Harry.” This time he leaned forward
and gave Harry a gentle kiss before turning and following Dorian’s steps.


*


Later on in the night, Harry woke and sat with a heated gasp. He was sweating, shaking, and as leaned forward, found the damp remnants of pleasure smeared across his stomach.

Blearily, he grabbed his wand from under his pillow as flickers of teasing hands and dark hair flitted across his
foggy mind.

Confused, Harry cleared the mess with a flick of his wand and eventually fell back into slumber.