Tom
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Draco/Tom
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
17
Views:
14,071
Reviews:
33
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
2
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Draco/Tom
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
17
Views:
14,071
Reviews:
33
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
2
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Energy Transfers
__________________________________________________________________________________
"So how can we find out this guy's name?" Crabbe frowned.
"By asking Snape for a yearbook from 1942, of course. Or 1943 for that matter since Tom was here at the school then as well. It's easy," I jabbed the dying fire beside me with a black iron fire poker. The common room was empty except for us now, it being nearly midnight. Goyle was pacing behind the black leather couch.
"I don't like this, Drac," Goyle suddenly added. He had been deathly quiet as I recalled the story of my encounter with Tom in the hall earlier today. This was the first time he'd talked since, "I mean, we can't very easily fight a ghost. What do we do if he attacks you again? Punch him? My fist would go right through his face..."
"I'm not sure if he's entirely a ghost. Look what he did to me last night? He obviously can take a solid form," I sat back on the couch staring down at the two photos I had laid out on the small table in front of me. The one of Tom's class and the one of Tom and Dumbledore. The case had been easy to break into. In both photos I was starting to feel like Tom's eyes were staring directly into mine although I knew he was just looking at the camera. The feeling was still very unsettling.
"Lemme see those pictures again," Crabbe asked holding out a hand. I reluctantly slid them his way across the table.
"You and I both know a ghost taking solid form is impossible," Goyle shook his head as he passed by my chair again, "It's rare enough when a dead person actually can take a ghost form!"
Crabbe laughed as he handed back the photos, "There's probably spells for this somewhere. Like, how to beat a ghost senseless. Right?"
"I'm not sure he's exactly a ghost," I added again.
"Or we could perform an exorcism, eh? That might do it," Crabbe continued, "I'll just go get my crucifix and holy water now!"
"Shut up," I threw a couch pillow at him, "And Goyle, I swear if you don't stop pacing I'm going to deck you with this fire poker."
"Sorry," Goyle sighed and took a seat beside me on the couch. I could tell he was nervous about the recent developments with Tom. Not being able to handle a situation with violence was new to him.
After a moment Crabbe piped up, "Say, Drac? How exactly did that fight go last night?"
"Yeah," Goyle eyed me, "You were acting really odd after Snape brought you back here, as if Tom used some sort of magic on you. 'Least that's what we figured."
I stared blank down at the aged photos, thinking. Well, I could tell them a little. It would help to have them know what we're up against, right? I sighed in defeat.
"Yeah, he used magic I think," I watched Tom's smile flash across his face in the photo from Professor Libby's potions class. It was more of a smirk rather than a genuine happy smile like the rest of the students, as if he was thinking 'I know I'm the best'.
As it turned out, Tom was quite smarter than I had first assumed. Goyle was surprised when I mentioned the 1942 award he had won first pace for, 'The Grand Agnesse Wizarding Award For Exemplary and Unique Achievements in Advanced Potion Making'. Goyle said it was a world wide competition among all wizards, not just students, and his own father had placed as a runner up one year. It was a huge deal in his family and they had celebrated for a full week. If it was that big a deal to place as only arunner up, I could only imagine what first place was like. Goyle was confused why the trophy was here at Hogwarts and not with Tom's family. His own father's smaller trophy still sat in his living room above the fire place. I had no answer why Tom's giant trophy was still in the school, at least not yet.
I sighed and continued on, "I didn't tell you about the fight at first because I didn't understand what had happened to me. The spells Tom used... well, he didn't have a wand and his lips weren't even moving, they just sort of happened."
Goyle leaned forward in his seat whispering, "No one can do spells without a wand."
"Not true," Crabbe added, "I heard when the Dark Lord was at his best he barely used his wand anymore."
"So you're saying this ghost kid is a better wizard than the Dark Lord himself?" Goyle shot a glare at Crabbe.
"Well, when you put it that way..." Crabbe frowned and leaned back on the couch.
In most situations, Crabbe succumbed to whatever Goyle said. Goyle was the larger of the two and the smartest. Crabbe, although fast and limber in a fight, was no match for Goyle's fists. And in the end they both answered to me since I was the brains of the operation, although Goyle did have his moments. For one thing, he would always know more about Charms than me.
I watched as Tom, in the class photo, reached up and brushed his dark hair back from his eyes.
"He's powerful but I agree with Goyle," I continued, "It didn't make sense even though that's how it happened. He was without his wand."
"Maybe Tom wasn't alone? Maybe there was someone with him you didn't see? Someone hiding, casting spells at you?" Goyle suggested, shrugging his wide shoulders.
"No, no, we were alone, I'm sure of that," I tried to hide my disgust from the memories, "The only thing I can think of is he had some sort of charm or shield cast around him. One I'm unfamiliar with."
"What was it like?" Goyle asked. He knew a good deal about protective charms even though he was lagging in the class. Goyle didn't like doing homework.
"Well, I remember feeling cold before Tom had even shown up, like, chilled to the bone. And the closer he got to me the worse the feeling was, as if I was freezing from the inside," goosebumps spread over my skin as I spoke.
The bruises on my elbows were hidden well enough by my robes but they still ached painfully at the memory of the fight. Earlier that day Crabbe and Goyle had told the other Slytherins I was ill with a stomach flu to keep them from wondering about my absence this morning. My friends might be a little slow but they were fast thinkers at the right times. And superb liars.
Goyle frowned and took out his Charms book from his bag beside him.
"Don't know that one, do you?" Crabbe asked as he leaned over Goyle's shoulder to see the book. Goyle pushed him aside with one hand knocking him sideways on the couch. Crabbe just cursed and sat back up beside Goyle.
"It sounds familiar. But I think it's Advanced Charms, if anything. I'm not sure if this sad old book would have it," Goyle mumbled from behind the pages.
Crabbe leaped up from the couch and walked to a nearby bookshelf.
"Keep describing the charm. Maybe it'll come to me," Goyle asked without looking up from the book.
"Well, it felt pretty awful," I mumbled, trying to find a way to keep all the dirty things from the conversation. I really didn't want any of that information to slip.
"Uh-huh," Goyle was skimming slowly through the books index.
"Like I said, it made me feel cold from the inside. I still felt it when I was back in the dorms. The only time it went away was when I kept blacking out."
Goyle looked up from his book, "Kept blacking out? You fainted? I thought Filch found you stumbling through the halls being sick."
"Don't remember that, guess I blacked out again," I grimaced, staring down at the photo of Dumbledore and Tom, "Was I at least clothed by then?"
Crabbe muffled a giggle. Goyle shook his head.
"Fantastic. I'll never be able to look that old man or his nasty cat in the face again. Look, just focus on figuring out why I felt so damn cold."
"Found it!" Crabbe grasped an old green book and brought it to Goyle, "Knew we had an Advanced Charms book in here somewhere."
Goyle opened the book to the index and squinted his dark green eyes at Crabbe, "This book has half the pages ripped out. You expect me to find such an obscure spell in here?"
"It's worth a try, right?" Crabbe plopped back down beside Goyle on the couch with his feet on the small table. I moved my Tom pictures away from his dirty shoes.
"Actually, I think I know what it might of been, Drac," Goyle found something in the index then started flipping to the suggested page.
"Well?" I asked.
He stopped on a page, reading a passage aloud.
"An Arctic Nether Charm. A protective and offensive charm. This is a unique charm which is used to stun enemies and render them powerless. It is highly uncommon since the symptoms on nearby wizard(s) are felt even before the charmed is within close proximity. Symptoms are a feeling of extreme cold, dread, and lose of energy. In rare cases, one being afflicted by this charm may loose consciousness. The energy drained from the afflicted wizard(s) will be transferred, in turn, to the charmed wizard, revitalizing them. The charmed wizard will have ice formed on their skin and occasionally snow on their shoulders. But when used perfectly and without any flaws, the charmed wizard will show no outward signs of using this charm."
"He used it perfectly then," I mumbled, watching Tom smile up at me from the old photographs. I noticed for the first time that Dumbledore shot Tom a sidelong glance as the old man reached for whatever candy treat was in his robes. The look was hard to catch unless you watched closely.
Goyle looked up from the book, "Perfectly? You sure? Says here it's very hard to perfect this charm and only Senior Wizards are even legally allowed to attempt it due to the side effects, one being death by freezing, might I add."
"Tom used it perfectly, Goyle," I glanced up from the photos and caught Goyle's eyes pointedly.
"Alright," He shrugged, "Well at least we know that you probably fainted from the charm. He must have been bloody good at it though, to do that."
"Hence the lack of snow and ice," I added, "So about me faint-, er, blacking out. When it happened I had all these terrible visions flashing through my head."
"Like what?" Crabbe asked curiously.
I paused as I recalled the nightmare visions. I had kept them from my mind all day on purpose. They had terrified me in a way I was unfamiliar with. It took me a moment to clear my throat and respond.
"Like... like people being tortured and killed. That sort of stuff." I stared back down at the photos, catching Tom's black eyes twinkling, "Maybe I was seeing inside Tom's head during the 'energy transfer'?"
"Sounds like my kind of guy," Crabbe smiled.
Something inside me snapped as I recalled the images Tom had shown me. They were down right wrong. I'm all for violence but people shouldn't do things like that to each other. It was terrible. And I was suddenly furious at Crabbe's dimwitted comment. I pushed the table back in anger and stood up, glaring down at him.
"You have no idea, no bloody idea what it was like Crabbe," I growled.
Crabbe's smile melted from his face as I turned away to face the dying embers of the fire, poker in hand, prodding angrily at the meek flame.
Goyle stared at me wide eyed from behind the tattered Advanced Charms book. He hesitated before pressing on, "Who... was in these visions?"
I recovered my grip on myself but I was still shaken by the memories, "Dunno. It was awful. I-I can't even describe it right. I honestly don't want to talk about it."
Goyle hesitated to continue after hearing the fear in my voice, "Says here on the section about fainting that you could have experienced a brief link into Tom's mind, seeing things he's seen."
Crabbe cleared his throat and moved to change the subject, "So he used an extremely powerful charm. We've got that down. What else did he do?"
I shook my head, and turned back to them without looking up to meet their inquiring eyes. That was enough for tonight. Enough questions. I reached down and pocketed the photos without looking at them again, "It's late, let's just go to bed."
Crabbe started to protest and I glared up at him, "I'm going to bed."
Crabbe left the room first, fairly angry at being yelled at.
"We're only trying to help you know," He muttered before closing our dormitory door behind him.
"Night Drac," Goyle moved to stand and follow Crabbe.
"Goyle, wait," I grabbed his arm and stopped him from leaving the couches, "There's something I didn't tell you."
____________________________________________________________________________________
"So how can we find out this guy's name?" Crabbe frowned.
"By asking Snape for a yearbook from 1942, of course. Or 1943 for that matter since Tom was here at the school then as well. It's easy," I jabbed the dying fire beside me with a black iron fire poker. The common room was empty except for us now, it being nearly midnight. Goyle was pacing behind the black leather couch.
"I don't like this, Drac," Goyle suddenly added. He had been deathly quiet as I recalled the story of my encounter with Tom in the hall earlier today. This was the first time he'd talked since, "I mean, we can't very easily fight a ghost. What do we do if he attacks you again? Punch him? My fist would go right through his face..."
"I'm not sure if he's entirely a ghost. Look what he did to me last night? He obviously can take a solid form," I sat back on the couch staring down at the two photos I had laid out on the small table in front of me. The one of Tom's class and the one of Tom and Dumbledore. The case had been easy to break into. In both photos I was starting to feel like Tom's eyes were staring directly into mine although I knew he was just looking at the camera. The feeling was still very unsettling.
"Lemme see those pictures again," Crabbe asked holding out a hand. I reluctantly slid them his way across the table.
"You and I both know a ghost taking solid form is impossible," Goyle shook his head as he passed by my chair again, "It's rare enough when a dead person actually can take a ghost form!"
Crabbe laughed as he handed back the photos, "There's probably spells for this somewhere. Like, how to beat a ghost senseless. Right?"
"I'm not sure he's exactly a ghost," I added again.
"Or we could perform an exorcism, eh? That might do it," Crabbe continued, "I'll just go get my crucifix and holy water now!"
"Shut up," I threw a couch pillow at him, "And Goyle, I swear if you don't stop pacing I'm going to deck you with this fire poker."
"Sorry," Goyle sighed and took a seat beside me on the couch. I could tell he was nervous about the recent developments with Tom. Not being able to handle a situation with violence was new to him.
After a moment Crabbe piped up, "Say, Drac? How exactly did that fight go last night?"
"Yeah," Goyle eyed me, "You were acting really odd after Snape brought you back here, as if Tom used some sort of magic on you. 'Least that's what we figured."
I stared blank down at the aged photos, thinking. Well, I could tell them a little. It would help to have them know what we're up against, right? I sighed in defeat.
"Yeah, he used magic I think," I watched Tom's smile flash across his face in the photo from Professor Libby's potions class. It was more of a smirk rather than a genuine happy smile like the rest of the students, as if he was thinking 'I know I'm the best'.
As it turned out, Tom was quite smarter than I had first assumed. Goyle was surprised when I mentioned the 1942 award he had won first pace for, 'The Grand Agnesse Wizarding Award For Exemplary and Unique Achievements in Advanced Potion Making'. Goyle said it was a world wide competition among all wizards, not just students, and his own father had placed as a runner up one year. It was a huge deal in his family and they had celebrated for a full week. If it was that big a deal to place as only arunner up, I could only imagine what first place was like. Goyle was confused why the trophy was here at Hogwarts and not with Tom's family. His own father's smaller trophy still sat in his living room above the fire place. I had no answer why Tom's giant trophy was still in the school, at least not yet.
I sighed and continued on, "I didn't tell you about the fight at first because I didn't understand what had happened to me. The spells Tom used... well, he didn't have a wand and his lips weren't even moving, they just sort of happened."
Goyle leaned forward in his seat whispering, "No one can do spells without a wand."
"Not true," Crabbe added, "I heard when the Dark Lord was at his best he barely used his wand anymore."
"So you're saying this ghost kid is a better wizard than the Dark Lord himself?" Goyle shot a glare at Crabbe.
"Well, when you put it that way..." Crabbe frowned and leaned back on the couch.
In most situations, Crabbe succumbed to whatever Goyle said. Goyle was the larger of the two and the smartest. Crabbe, although fast and limber in a fight, was no match for Goyle's fists. And in the end they both answered to me since I was the brains of the operation, although Goyle did have his moments. For one thing, he would always know more about Charms than me.
I watched as Tom, in the class photo, reached up and brushed his dark hair back from his eyes.
"He's powerful but I agree with Goyle," I continued, "It didn't make sense even though that's how it happened. He was without his wand."
"Maybe Tom wasn't alone? Maybe there was someone with him you didn't see? Someone hiding, casting spells at you?" Goyle suggested, shrugging his wide shoulders.
"No, no, we were alone, I'm sure of that," I tried to hide my disgust from the memories, "The only thing I can think of is he had some sort of charm or shield cast around him. One I'm unfamiliar with."
"What was it like?" Goyle asked. He knew a good deal about protective charms even though he was lagging in the class. Goyle didn't like doing homework.
"Well, I remember feeling cold before Tom had even shown up, like, chilled to the bone. And the closer he got to me the worse the feeling was, as if I was freezing from the inside," goosebumps spread over my skin as I spoke.
The bruises on my elbows were hidden well enough by my robes but they still ached painfully at the memory of the fight. Earlier that day Crabbe and Goyle had told the other Slytherins I was ill with a stomach flu to keep them from wondering about my absence this morning. My friends might be a little slow but they were fast thinkers at the right times. And superb liars.
Goyle frowned and took out his Charms book from his bag beside him.
"Don't know that one, do you?" Crabbe asked as he leaned over Goyle's shoulder to see the book. Goyle pushed him aside with one hand knocking him sideways on the couch. Crabbe just cursed and sat back up beside Goyle.
"It sounds familiar. But I think it's Advanced Charms, if anything. I'm not sure if this sad old book would have it," Goyle mumbled from behind the pages.
Crabbe leaped up from the couch and walked to a nearby bookshelf.
"Keep describing the charm. Maybe it'll come to me," Goyle asked without looking up from the book.
"Well, it felt pretty awful," I mumbled, trying to find a way to keep all the dirty things from the conversation. I really didn't want any of that information to slip.
"Uh-huh," Goyle was skimming slowly through the books index.
"Like I said, it made me feel cold from the inside. I still felt it when I was back in the dorms. The only time it went away was when I kept blacking out."
Goyle looked up from his book, "Kept blacking out? You fainted? I thought Filch found you stumbling through the halls being sick."
"Don't remember that, guess I blacked out again," I grimaced, staring down at the photo of Dumbledore and Tom, "Was I at least clothed by then?"
Crabbe muffled a giggle. Goyle shook his head.
"Fantastic. I'll never be able to look that old man or his nasty cat in the face again. Look, just focus on figuring out why I felt so damn cold."
"Found it!" Crabbe grasped an old green book and brought it to Goyle, "Knew we had an Advanced Charms book in here somewhere."
Goyle opened the book to the index and squinted his dark green eyes at Crabbe, "This book has half the pages ripped out. You expect me to find such an obscure spell in here?"
"It's worth a try, right?" Crabbe plopped back down beside Goyle on the couch with his feet on the small table. I moved my Tom pictures away from his dirty shoes.
"Actually, I think I know what it might of been, Drac," Goyle found something in the index then started flipping to the suggested page.
"Well?" I asked.
He stopped on a page, reading a passage aloud.
"An Arctic Nether Charm. A protective and offensive charm. This is a unique charm which is used to stun enemies and render them powerless. It is highly uncommon since the symptoms on nearby wizard(s) are felt even before the charmed is within close proximity. Symptoms are a feeling of extreme cold, dread, and lose of energy. In rare cases, one being afflicted by this charm may loose consciousness. The energy drained from the afflicted wizard(s) will be transferred, in turn, to the charmed wizard, revitalizing them. The charmed wizard will have ice formed on their skin and occasionally snow on their shoulders. But when used perfectly and without any flaws, the charmed wizard will show no outward signs of using this charm."
"He used it perfectly then," I mumbled, watching Tom smile up at me from the old photographs. I noticed for the first time that Dumbledore shot Tom a sidelong glance as the old man reached for whatever candy treat was in his robes. The look was hard to catch unless you watched closely.
Goyle looked up from the book, "Perfectly? You sure? Says here it's very hard to perfect this charm and only Senior Wizards are even legally allowed to attempt it due to the side effects, one being death by freezing, might I add."
"Tom used it perfectly, Goyle," I glanced up from the photos and caught Goyle's eyes pointedly.
"Alright," He shrugged, "Well at least we know that you probably fainted from the charm. He must have been bloody good at it though, to do that."
"Hence the lack of snow and ice," I added, "So about me faint-, er, blacking out. When it happened I had all these terrible visions flashing through my head."
"Like what?" Crabbe asked curiously.
I paused as I recalled the nightmare visions. I had kept them from my mind all day on purpose. They had terrified me in a way I was unfamiliar with. It took me a moment to clear my throat and respond.
"Like... like people being tortured and killed. That sort of stuff." I stared back down at the photos, catching Tom's black eyes twinkling, "Maybe I was seeing inside Tom's head during the 'energy transfer'?"
"Sounds like my kind of guy," Crabbe smiled.
Something inside me snapped as I recalled the images Tom had shown me. They were down right wrong. I'm all for violence but people shouldn't do things like that to each other. It was terrible. And I was suddenly furious at Crabbe's dimwitted comment. I pushed the table back in anger and stood up, glaring down at him.
"You have no idea, no bloody idea what it was like Crabbe," I growled.
Crabbe's smile melted from his face as I turned away to face the dying embers of the fire, poker in hand, prodding angrily at the meek flame.
Goyle stared at me wide eyed from behind the tattered Advanced Charms book. He hesitated before pressing on, "Who... was in these visions?"
I recovered my grip on myself but I was still shaken by the memories, "Dunno. It was awful. I-I can't even describe it right. I honestly don't want to talk about it."
Goyle hesitated to continue after hearing the fear in my voice, "Says here on the section about fainting that you could have experienced a brief link into Tom's mind, seeing things he's seen."
Crabbe cleared his throat and moved to change the subject, "So he used an extremely powerful charm. We've got that down. What else did he do?"
I shook my head, and turned back to them without looking up to meet their inquiring eyes. That was enough for tonight. Enough questions. I reached down and pocketed the photos without looking at them again, "It's late, let's just go to bed."
Crabbe started to protest and I glared up at him, "I'm going to bed."
Crabbe left the room first, fairly angry at being yelled at.
"We're only trying to help you know," He muttered before closing our dormitory door behind him.
"Night Drac," Goyle moved to stand and follow Crabbe.
"Goyle, wait," I grabbed his arm and stopped him from leaving the couches, "There's something I didn't tell you."
____________________________________________________________________________________