A Thread of Time

Chapter Seven

*

Harry opened his eyes to find Dorian watching him with a thoughtful expression.

Blearily he pushed himself up into a sitting position, elbows leaning on bent knees. “What time is it?” he asked,
voice roughened by sleep.

Dorian was sitting casually on the end of the bed, the curtains half drawn to allow him access. “It is
approximately seven o’ clock on a Sunday,” he answered with a bored expression, habitually twirling his wand in
one hand while the other leant against the bed.

Harry said nothing as he attempted to process the thought of waking at such an early hour on a Sunday. In slight
embarrassment he noticed Dorian’s eyes trailing unashamedly down his bare chest. In the end, he cleared his
throat and managed, “do you always get up so early?”

Dorian raised a brow. “We are the last ones in here, actually. I have orders to wake you up.”

Confused, Harry rubbed his eyes. “Orders…? Oh.” Tom. “Maybe later,” he said, and lay back down with a yawn.

Dorian gave a soft snort. “Well, I refuse to leave without you. I rather value my private parts.”

Harry snickered and threw an arm over his eyes. When he opened them again a moment later, the other boy was still
watching him expressionlessly.

“Do you plan on sitting there all day?” he asked curiously.

“My intention was to wait until you bother to get up. However I could result to physically forcing you, if you
would prefer.”

Harry gave him a sleepy grin. “Just say you couldn’t wake me up.”

“You expect our dear Tom to believe that?”

“Well, no, but it would give me a few more minutes sleep.”

“Very well, physical force it is.”

Harry pushed himself up again. “Fine, fine,” he said, and slumped tiredly against the wall, watching Dorian from
through lidded eyes.

“This morning, please,” Dorian said with amusement.

“But ‘m tired,” Harry complained, eyes falling shut again.

“And I’m sure you can have plenty of sleep later.”

“But…”

“You’re worse than I am. What must I do to make you get up?”

Harry smiled but said nothing. When he began to doze off again he was surprised to suddenly find himself
forcefully pushed onto his back.

“Wha..” he managed before he found a mouth over his own. It was with a sleep-ridden mind and muddled thoughts
that Harry did not realize what was happening as he moaned softly and pulled the boy completely on top of him.

A second later the blanket was tugged aside and Harry experienced the newfound pleasure of sliding his boxer-clad
hardness against Dorian’s thigh. They broke the kiss gasping and set a rhythm once Harry discovered the other
boy’s erection pressing into his side.

A few intense moments of moaning, thrusting and kissing followed and left them both lying on the bed panting.

“Well,” Dorian murmured as he pushed himself off Harry. “That was one way to get you up.”

After a pause, Harry laughed at the innuendo and pushed himself up. “You could have just spelled water over my
head or something. I can’t believe we did that.”

He looked down at Dorian who was reclining against the pillows. He received a lazy smirk. “Now where’s the fun in
that?”

Harry rolled his eyes, cleaned away the mess with a flick of his wand, and finally staggered out of bed.


*


When discovering the common room to be empty, Harry and Dorian came to the conclusion that Tom had become bored
with waiting and had already left for breakfast.

It was on their way up from the dungeons to the Great Hall that they came to a halt upon what looked like a gang
of giggling Slytherin girls cornering a second or third-year Ravenclaw student.

“What’s going on here?” Dorian asked vacantly, and immediately had the attention of the six Slytherin students.

“Nothing,” the tallest of them answered sweetly, eyes narrowing. Her light hair and grey eyes immediately
screamed Malfoy, Harry realized. This would be Claudia Malfoy.

He frowned once he saw who the victim was. Messy dark hair and hazel eyes; it had to be Henry Potter, Charlus’
nephew.

Harry took a step towards him and immediately wands were pointing at him.

“Harry, let’s be on our way,” Dorian said indifferently, clearly not bothered about the Ravenclaw student.

“No,” Harry said. “You go; I’ll be there in a minute.”

Dorian looked at him uncertainly, while Claudia gave a slight giggle. “Go on, Rosier. I should like to talk to
the new boy.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at him, and, with an elegant shrug, Dorian strolled away without a backward glance.

He turned to the group. The other girls were silent, staring at him through narrowed eyes. Henry Potter was
staring defiantly at the floor, clutching his school bag and saying nothing.

“I suggest you stop whatever it is you’re doing,” Harry said quietly, fixing his eyes on Claudia. His wand was
still in his pocket, but he was hardly bothered by that.

The girl flashed her eyelashes at him, a smirk forming on her face. “And why would we listen to you, a
half-blood?”

“Perhaps because you don’t yet know what you’re up against.”

She snorted. “There is nothing you can do. You may be a sixth year but you are outnumbered. Will you run to the
nearest professor?”

Harry was annoyed now. Calmly he took out his wand and pointed it directly towards Claudia.

Absently he blocked a hex that flew at him from one of the other girls.

“Take yourself elsewhere,” Claudia said, clearly irritated but wary. “This is none of your business.”

“Maybe the fact that he is my cousin makes it my business. Put away your wands and leave him alone.”

The girls began to giggle spitefully at him.

“How sweet,” Claudia said, before snapping a curse at him. Harry countered it and quickly formed a strong
shielding charm around Henry.

Instantly hexes were being hurled at him.

Quickly racking his brains for a plan, Harry decided to settle on defense, for now. He could block their petty
spells easily but had no idea as to when they would grow tired of their current entertainment.

A minute of firing and dodging spells followed, and finally Harry decided that he had had enough. “Expelliarmus,”
he murmured, followed by a “Silencio.”

All six wands flew into his hand.

The girls glared at him viciously, both wandless and speechless.

“I think it’s about time you gave up,” Harry said irritably. “Approach him again and next time you won’t be the
only ones throwing curses. Now get lost.”

With silent glee he turned their wands into candy sticks as he returned them. The spell had been an invention of
Fred and George’s.

Claudia gave him a furious expression and stomped away followed by her little gang.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked the Ravenclaw boy. Henry simply nodded his head, still clutching his bag to his
chest, refusing to look up at Harry.

Harry was at a loss for words. The boy was so quiet. “Do you… need to visit the Hospital Wing?”

Again, the boy shook his head.

Harry sighed and took a firm hold of Henry’s chin, forcing him to look up. He was surprised to find fear in the
younger boy’s eyes.

“What’s your name?” Harry asked, just in case.

“Henry,” the boy said, so quietly that Harry had to strain his ears to hear. “Henry Potter.”

Harry smiled at him and released his chin. “I’m Harry. Why don’t we walk to breakfast, together?”

Henry nodded, his eyes returned to the ground, and moved to walk beside Harry along the corridor.

“You’re very quiet,” Harry commented. When he received no answer he asked, “Are you afraid?”

Henry shook his head, no, and they continued walking.

Harry sighed as they approached the Great Hall. “Let me know if they do it again,” he said when the boy finally
looked up at him. “Or, better yet, tell Charlus.”

That comment made Henry look away. Harry frowned. There had to be something going on, here.

“I’ll talk to you again sometime,” he said, and when he received a nod, headed for the Slytherin table.


*


“Good morning, Potter,” Cedrella said as Harry claimed the space beside her.

“I see nothing good about it,” he said absentmindedly, piling food onto his plate.

“You certainly took your time in coming down,” Bulstrode remarked across from him.

Harry scowled. “If I realized it was custom to get up so early on a Sunday morning, I would have refused to come
to Hogwarts at all.”

The witch snorted. “Why waste the day away sleeping when there are so many-”

“Did you sort out your little ordeal, Harry?” Dorian interrupted uncaringly. He was sitting on the other side of
Cedrella, next to Tom.

Harry didn’t reply. Instead he began to tap his fork insistently against the table, feeling restless all of a
sudden.

“Are you ill?” Cedrella remarked, eyes glued to the book in her lap.

Harry sighed. “I’m not hungry,” he decided suddenly, and stood.

As he wondered what to do, Anton decided to slide up and curl round his neck.

“Hello,” the snake said cheerily.

“Why are you so happy all of a sudden?”

“I enjoyed that little incident this morning,” Anton replied, tongue flicking in Harry’s ear. Harry shifted
uncomfortably, hoping that Anton was not referring to the little… episode with Dorian that had occurred earlier.

“Potter, sit down,” Cedrella said mildly, and Harry sat.

“Incident?”

“What incident, Harry?” Tom spoke up, eyes dark and expressionless.

Harry felt extremely uncomfortable as questioning eyes fixed on him. He looked at Dorian who was staring with a
mixture of amusement and disgust at something by the Gryffindor table.

“Can we hunt now?” Anton said suddenly, breaking the awkwardness.

“Sure,” Harry said and rose once again.

“Wait, Harry, I’d like to speak to you,” Tom said, rising.

Harry frowned but nodded, and together they left the Hall.

“Are you attempting to hide something from me?” Tom questioned eventually.

“Like what?” Harry said, and turned so that they were heading towards the Entrance Hall. If Tom had any idea of
what happened…well, it didn’t matter. Harry had nothing to be ashamed of. There was nothing between him and Tom,
just as there was nothing going on between Tom and the number of people he had used. Harry assured himself that he had no reason to be guilty whatsoever.

“I don’t know exactly, but from what I can tell, something happened between you and my lovely Dorian. Something
that you don’t wish to share.”

Harry sat on the steps outside, as he had done the day before with Chris. Tom followed suit.

“Why would I share it?” he said defensively, staring unseeingly at the lake. He owed Tom nothing. The couple of
kisses they had shared were nothing. So why did he feel as though there was something eating at him?

“Why not? I am curious, and I see no harm in you telling me.”

Harry frowned. Why was Tom pushing? It was none of his business. Had Dorian told him? “It’s so trivial and
insignificant that it hardly matters. What time is that meeting?”

“It is at six in a hidden room in the dungeons. I’m to tell you the password when we get there.”

Harry nodded.

“Harry,” Tom said quietly. Harry could feel those dark eyes staring at him. As though by force he turned to meet
their intense gaze, and met the lips that kissed him.

“Did you enjoy Dorian’s kisses as much as you enjoy mine?” Tom murmured, moving so that they were sitting right
beside each other, thighs touching.

Harry didn’t answer, not knowing what to say. His momentary restlessness had vanished; now he was simply tired.

“What does it matter,” he murmured, fixing his eyes upon a couple of birds fluttering by a clump of leafless
trees near the unmoving lake.

It was not cold, he noticed. The weak sun shone through gaps in the puffy clouds and made the droplets of
leftover rain on plants glitter.

“Are you… were you in a relationship in the future?” Tom asked, following Harry’s gaze.

“No. Well…” Harry decided not to think of Ginny, who had become more and more annoyingly tearful and desperate.
It hadn’t helped that Ron and Hermione had spent half their time trying to convince Harry to date her again and
adamantly refused to understand that he didn’t want to; that he wasn’t interested in her and never really had
been. “No. What about you?”

Tom raised an eyebrow at him. “What about me?”

“Don’t you do relationships?”

“I am… not usually acquainted with people who I would consider having a relationship with.”

There was a pause. “Dorian says that you’re permanently horny and tend to fuck anyone you like,” Harry blurted
out, then mentally cursed himself.

To his surprise, Tom laughed softly.

“That’s not quite true,” he mused, staring off at the lake. “Well, perhaps it is. You’ll find that most
Slytherins view relationships as complications. Instead we take joy in… paying each other favors, so to speak.”

“I guess that excludes Bulstrode, then,” Harry said, watching Tom’s moving expressions with fascination. Most of
the time the boy’s expression was closed and dark. Making him smile, or even laugh, was a challenge that Harry
was happy to uptake.

“She was meant to be in Ravenclaw, you know. But of course the mere idea was scandalous; her parents came in that
very day and had her resorted in Dippet’s office.”

Harry stared at him. “But she’s so…”

Tom turned to give him a wryly amused look. “Obsessive? Yes, she spitefully dived into the dark arts in some form
of rebellion and corrupted herself.”

Harry leant his head in his hands. From what he could tell, Slytherin in the future, in his time, was far more
corrupt than they were here. Most of the Slytherins here treated him with some form of mild neglect; as though he
were an unwelcome guest. While it wasn’t very welcoming, it was far less harsh than Harry suspected, being a
‘half-blood’ and all.

In the future he would have been ripped to pieces.

“What are you thinking about?” Tom asked, leaning over slightly and placing a kiss on Harry’s forehead.

Harry decided then to ignore Tom’s random bouts of affection. He sighed and stretched, before saying suddenly,
“When is your birthday?”

Tom’s only show of surprise was to blink and raise an eyebrow. “On New Year’s Eve,” he said shortly.

Harry made an incoherent sound and smothered a yawn.

They sat in a peculiarly comfortable silence for a few moments, before Harry murmured, “I want you to stop.”

Tom looked at him, eyes slightly narrowed. “Stop what?”

“Stop… this. I don’t want to do this… favor-sharing thing you do. No more kisses or anything.”

Tom frowned slightly in response. “I have not been with anyone since you arrived. Doesn’t that tell you
something?”

Harry gave him an uncertain look.

“Would it make you more comfortable if I refrained from seeing other people in the meantime?”

“You just said you don’t do relationships,” Harry said flatly, staring at him.

“I said I’m not usually acquainted with anyone that I would want to be with.”

Harry frowned and moved away slightly. He wasn’t stupid; clearly Tom wanted something or he wouldn’t bother.

“I don’t trust you. You killed my parents.”

“I don’t expect you to trust me. I hardly hold trust for you.”

Harry gave him an incredulous look. “That’s hardly the means to start a relationship on.”

Tom smiled. “It is if we can both trust each other not to be trustworthy.”

Harry rolled his eyes. He looked away. Joke over, he asked quietly, “what is it you want?”

“You, obviously.”

Harry scowled at him, ignoring the small flip in his stomach. “Very funny. Spit it out; Slytherins always want
something one way or another.”

“I didn’t think you were the judgmental type, Harry.”

“I’m not. But the only Slytherins I really knew were selfish arseholes.”

“People are different. Is this a no, then?”

Harry looked at him painfully, and then dropped his gaze to his feet.

“It is.”

He heard Tom sigh and felt a hand run affectionately through his hair.

“Next time let me know when you decide to have a little fun with Dorian, then.”

Harry laughed softly. “I don’t expect that to happen again.”

After a while, he said, “What time will the meeting end?”

“At seven. It is only an hour or so long. Why?”

“I’m meant to be meeting Chris here at eight. I don’t know his surname…”

“That would be Christopher Doyle,” Tom said expressionlessly. “He is the Slytherin Quidditch captain.”

“Really?” Harry asked, delighted at that information. “Feels like I haven’t played in ages…” he gazed off towards
the direction of the Quidditch pitch and wondered how his Firebolt was doing.

“Were you in the team?”

“Yeah, seeker.”

“I’m sure Doyle will be able to get you a place, if you can prove you’re any good.”

Harry shrugged. “Won’t be much point, really… I should be returning soon. Oh, bugger… I was meant to see
Dumbldore.”

With a sigh he stood up.

“Would you like me to come?” Tom asked, rising.

Harry blinked. “No, it’s alright… do you think they’ve found a way to send me back?”

Tom looked at him for a second.

“I hope not.”