Harry continued to stare at Tom unable to fathom a reply, his mind whirling dangerously out of control. How the hell could he have not seen it? Well of course he couldn't see it, Tom rarely showed his own emotions, even he found getting Tom to show anything difficult and usually only when he was extremely surprised or pissed off. Like the day he hadn't denied he knew all about magic to him during the first week, or when he handed over Slytherin pendant without expecting anything in return. He knew everything there had been possible to know about Tom…but this? Well the last thing he'd ever thought about was his sexual preferences or whether he would have a bloody partner - which he had never had - with Horcruxes and his soul split he'd probably never desired anyone…although there were rumours about Bellatrix but he'd never really bothered about it - he had more important tasks at hand…rather they had been at the time.
Everything was now precariously hinged on a cliff edge; he didn't need to be a seer to know that. If he said no, there was a chance Tom would pull away completely, close down and become who Harry feared he would - a split soulless wizard whose obsessions just carry him over until it ended him. Obsession and pride, two very stubborn personality traits, they overtook everything even common sense from time to time. Or there was a chance that Tom could become relentless in his pursuit of him and resort to hurting others…he honestly didn't know what Tom would do, this unknown territory was quite frankly worrying.
No, he couldn't do that, he swore he would never become Dumbledore or anything like him. He couldn't agree to be with Tom just to change him or try to at any rate; he didn't think it was possible for anyone to change Tom much. That and he was through thinking of others before himself. It had to be something he wanted…but did he? He was attracted to Tom, there was no denying that - he couldn't think of anyone who wasn't drawn to him, he was bloody gorgeous, smart, powerful and the downside? He had sadistic tendencies and he wanted to rule the world. Being attracted to someone didn't make it alright either, he knew how things could go, better than anyone could possibly imagine. What if he agreed only for Tom to go down that road? He wouldn't be able to handle it. It wouldn't be his Tom if he separated his soul. His Tom? Harry thought mentally shouting, what the hell? Swallowing thickly, feeling as if hours had passed in reality it was only seconds.
Could he talk him out of creating Horcruxes if he even did it this time around, perhaps without the prejudice he wouldn't let loose the basilisk, wouldn't create the diary so it could 'finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work'. This was so complicated…and sort of depraved…he wasn't really fifteen years old, he wasn't a teenager…wasn't it sort of illegal? Did he care? No, not really, he really was turning into a Slytherin he mused wryly.
Opening his mouth, intending on asking Tom for time, just so he could get his head around it, when he actually looked him in the eye and his breathing hitched. Was that actually hope concealed within those black depths? Oh shit, was he being manipulated? Tom was just bloody amazing at it, there was no denying that. The thought of being manipulated himself though left a bitter taste in his mouth, it had happened to him for seven long years. Then predictably, Tom's face became completely blank before he pulled away, turning to presumably go to Slytherin common room.
"Tom, wait, it's not you…" Harry grimaced at that excuse, but continued on. "There's just a few things you don't know about me yet…okay actually a lot of things it might change how you feel about going down this road." his green eyes boring straight into Tom's leaving no room for the other teen to doubt him for a second.
Tom turned back to face Hadrian, his gaze intense as he stared at him, judging him, but those green eyes he liked so much were very sincere. What could he have to say that would change this? He'd long ago lost the suspicious than it was only his life Hadrian had known about, he knew things about Slughorn, about Dumbledore for Merlin's sake and he was older than him by at least fifty years! A lot of others he was familiar with too, he would bet Eileen was too, and Hagrid.
"Look…just follow me," Harry said, walking away from the direction of the dungeons and began making his way up the stairs. He gait was a little slow, the pain reliever he'd taken only worked so well, but considering there was no Severus Snape around to make the potions better well, he would have to do with the mediocre ones that Slughorn brewed for the hospital wing. In other words the potion was barely taking the edge off the pain. He took them to the only really safe place from eavesdropping the room of requirements - more specifically the room of lost items - they could poke around while they spoke. The room was large and they'd only scraped the surface Tom unsurprisingly had uncovered a few gems and had given him his money back already.
Crossing back and forth impatiently, glancing around to make sure the corridor was truly deserted before opening the door that appeared there. Luckily there weren't any portraits so even the Headmaster was unaware of the room, even Dumbledore could be for all he knew. Sighing softly, looking around once again struck by the fact the last time he saw this room as Harry Potter it had been burning ferociously to the ground. The room had never worked again, he had walked passed it for what felt like a million times and nothing had appeared, not even as a closet. It had been destroyed; the fire had obliterated it and all the sentient magic keeping the room alive and ever changing.
Only Tom would choose this moment to remain stoic and quiet, anyone else would be asking a million questions by now. It was as though he was trying to get answers from him without having to ask. He couldn't feel any probing at his mind shields - not that he ever had when it came to Tom - so he was safe from that at least. Harry touched his tingling lips, rolling his eyes, honestly, he was acting like a love struck twelve year old, he hastily shoved his hands down but his treacherous stomach felt full of butterflies and his lips continued to tingle. "I am not really fifteen years old…" Harry confessed, turning to face Tom, "I…when I came back to this time I was fourteen again."
Tom's eyes narrowed until his eyes were naught but slits, "What age are you?" he hoped that he wasn't about to hear that Hadrian was a middle aged man or worse.
"I was twenty-one when I came back, so technically I'm twenty-two now," Harry informed him slightly sheepish, scratching the back of his head.
"That is why you knew the material so well," Tom stated bitterly.
Harry shook his head, "Half the material we learn in this day and age isn't available in my time anymore, I'm learning as I go just the same as you in nearly all my classes other than Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration and Charms. Why do you think I spend so much of my time with my head buried in books?" it was true, healing, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, magical theory, ancient studies, magical law and finances all subjects new to him that he'd never taken before. "Even Alchemy when I take it."
"And Dark Arts?" Tom enquired silkily.
Harry chuckled humourlessly, "Same, in my time especially for me it wasn't something I could possibly read about. You think the prejudice is bad now? Sixty years later people are prosecuted for it ten times worse and more often. The UK magical Britain is a mockery compared to other places; I honestly don't know why anyone wants to live here." Harry then added smugly, "But when it comes to the Dark Arts, even defence against it, I am very good. Always have been best grades all the time, out of all the students. Even learning the first time around and I had only just found out about it. Me, better than those who knew magic from the get go."
"And that's enough of that, I'm spending way too much time with you, Tom, I'm beginning to sound just like you." Harry muttered dryly, shaking his head when he realized how it sounded.
Tom smirked smugly despite everything he'd learned; truthfully none of it bothered him. A frown overtook his smug look, as he realized that if Hadrian had been twenty-one years old the likelihood of him being married was very high. It left a coiling cold feeling in his stomach. The though of anyone having seen him, touched him in any way infuriated him. Then again if he was raised in the Muggle world perhaps not? "Did you have an arranged marriage contracted in your name?" Tom enquired, trying to sound flippant but he failed spectacularly.
"You're asking me if I was married?" Harry chuckled darkly, his green eyes gleaming with hatred. "No, Tom, I wasn't, my pureblood father married a Muggle-born witch, she was quite powerful and smart herself. Why do you think I believe that half-blood's are much more powerful? That and I can see what happens to those who believe wholly in the whole keeping their lines pure crap? Most of those end up gone, Couch, Carrow, Moody, Black, Lestrange and probably a few others I'm forgetting. I mean there are so many Black's here that my head is spinning trying to remember them all! In my time they're gone, nearly every single one of them only three females remain." most of them actually died for Tom's cause but he wasn't about to tell him that. Hopefully it wouldn't happen this time around.
"Who was Ariana?" Tom demanded, relaxing slightly at the knowledge he wasn't married or hadn't been, but there were still a lot of questions he wanted answered. He moved around the room, absently sorting through the books, trying to find ones that were worthy of reading and selling.
Harry joined him, "Do you really want to know? I mean can you know and not use it against him?" or hate Muggles more.
"I'm afraid that cat is long out of the bag," Tom snorted derisively, relishing in Dumbledore's expression as he forced Hadrian out of the Great Hall. Finding a book that looked half way decent and sliding it into his bag for later perusal.
Harry winced, "Yeah, I let my anger get the better of me, Merlin knows what he's going to do now." flipping the books on his hand to the other side they were just first year books and absolutely no use to him. Sighing softly, "Ariana was Dumbledore's sister, she um…she was the youngest, when she was six years old she was attacked by three Muggle boys, don't ask me how because I don't know and I really don't want to know what the hell they did to her." Harry said seeing the probing look on Tom's face.
"All I know is whatever those boys did to her…scarred her for life, she refused to use her magic again, and you see the boys saw her performing accidental magic. It broke something in her, mentally, Percival Dumbledore was absolutely furious, he got the truth and tracked those three boys down and killed them for what they did to his daughter. He spent the last years of his life in Azkaban, dying on the island, known as a Muggle hater, he refused to tell the Ministry why he'd one it, from then on in Kendra Dumbledore kept her daughter a secret, bringing up Albus and Aberforth to lie, manipulate and whatever else just so her daughter wouldn't be discovered and sent to St. Mungo's."
"I see," Tom replied, wondering what it had to do with what happened to Hadrian.
"Not using magic caused her core to become seriously unstable, most of the time she was just a frightened young girl, until her magic acted up from time to time. In the end she had a fit, when her magic acted up again, and it killed her mother. Both boys let everyone believe she died due to a backfiring charm. Albus of course then became her guardian, Aberforth knowing his brother wanted to leave Hogwarts to look after her but he convinced him to return. He was the only one that was able to calm her down, and she ate when he asked more than even when her mother tried to get her to eat. He was gone the day Ariana had the fit that killed their mother." Harry continued to explain.
"Knowing his brother?" Tom enquired realizing they were getting to the juicy details.
"Dumbledore returned to Godric's Hollow to look after his sister angry, bitter, he didn't want to look after his 'damaged' sister or wayward brother his words not mine. He felt trapped, his magic and talent wasted, until a certain someone appeared in Godric's Hollow." Harry said his lip curling. "Even you'll know who he is, Gellert Grindelwald, Dumbledore's lover."
Tom's eyes widened comically unable to hide his reactions and making no attempt to afterwards.
"Gellert came to Godric's Hollow after being kicked out of Durmstrang for excessively using the Dark Arts; you can imagine how bad it must have been to scare the teachers there, who actually teach the subject. His aunt is the one and only Bathilda Bagshot." Harry informed him.
"Who?" Tom frowned, he wasn't familiar with her, and by the way Hadrian spoke of her she was obviously well known.
"Oh, you won't know her yet," Harry said realizing his slip up, shaking his head. "She writes a book that gets used by every student here at Hogwarts. Its title is 'Hogwarts a history' it won't be out for a few more years."
Tom nodded curtly, before sliding yet another book into his bag as they continued with their quest as they spoke.
"Anyway, they became fast friends, since they were both very smart and ambitious, Dumbledore chose to ignore Gellert's penchant for violence because of his love for him." Harry's voice took on a sarcastic turn there. "Then they began to plan to take over the wizarding world and make Muggles subservient for the 'greater good'."
Tom gaped, "You're joking right?" he had to be, it was so bloody ludicrous really.
"No, I'm not, Aberforth found out and kicked up a storm, suddenly all three of them were arguing and fighting. Ariana hearing the commotion tried to intervene, then suddenly they all burst out into a duel, no one knows just who struck the blow that killed her, whether it was Dumbledore or Grindelwald. Either way Gellert ran away, continued with their plans without Dumbledore. In the end he became a Transfiguration teacher, stewing in his own guilt, hid all his sordid past, and that's the way it remained for a long, long time."
Tom just wordlessly shook his head and perched himself on a chair that had been untangled from the mass of furniture days ago. When he wondered about it, he certainly hadn't expected anything like this to come to light. No wonder Dumbledore felt guilty.
"Right now there are people all over the world begging for his help to end Grindelwald, since he is powerful enough to stop it, but he refuses, too terrified of meeting him. Too scared of the prospect of finding out it had been he who cast the curse that killed his sister. He puts it off for as long as possible, but in the end he cannot stand the guilt of what his ex- lover is doing and duels him." Harry revealed, they'd gotten well off topic but getting it off his chest was…exhilarating. Of course Tom already knew bits and pieces of this, he'd told him. "Both of them are obsessed with the Deathly Hallows…do you know what they are?"
"The Deathly Hallows? They're out of a children's tale, they don't exist." Tom pointed out, almost bewildered by the conversation change, thankfully he was smart enough to compartmentalise it all and proceed further. "So why would they be obsessed with it?" but his mind drifted to one night the tales had been brought up, and how the others had derisively mocked it and Hadrian had just smirked in the background thoroughly amused. He was not going to be told the Deathly Hallows existed - it was impossible. He was saying that a lot this evening and he didn't like it. Unfortunately he was too exasperated and surprised to be truly angry.
"Oh, no, they exist alright," Harry grinned savagely. "They're also more important than just mere artefacts that can do what they say in the story. I mean surely you've noticed that stories the Muggles grew up with like sleeping beauty and such are similar tales in the magical world…but the prince was actually a wizard with the antidote on his lips that revived her. There are dozens of them I could go on, but I can't be bothered, just know that all legends are true, all Muggle and magical alike there's truth to it all, they come from somewhere." flipping open a chest, and peering inside, arching an eyebrow impressed, digging in bringing out the bag full of coins, he opened it and found galleons. He'd estimate around forty or fifty at least, he flipped it into his pocket. "Oh, someone was definitely up to something illegal." he said wryly bringing out the crate of love potions. He flipped out his wand and banished them immediately. "This trunk is at least fifty to sixty years old, some good books in here too, you'll like them." giving it another once over before sliding the trunk across.
"The hallows?" Tom demanded expectantly, ignoring the enticing trunk for the moment.
"What? They exist," Harry said turning to face him trying to hide his merriment.
"And does he get them?" Tom asked, already making plans to get them before the old fool just to screw with him.
"Well…yeah for a brief stint," Harry acknowledged, "One longer than the other two."
"What do they do? If they're more than just what the story proclaims?" Tom enquired, his mind whirling as he tried to remember everything he'd read about that particular tale. Cloak of invisibility, a resurrection stone and the death stick, two of the brothers died one murdered one suicide the other survived until he passed the cloak onto his son and parted with death as old friends. What else did the story say? That was it, nothing more specified. He longed to leave and go to the chamber, where he could get some solitary time and think on everything he'd just learned.
"One of them belongs to you," Harry told him, having no intention of telling him about the fact had made him immortal, he wasn't under any circumstances going to have that rooting in Tom's mind, but push come to shove he would tell him everything if he ever considered creating a Horcrux. "The brothers in that tale are the Peverell brothers; the middle brother Camdus should be familiar to you."
"The resurrection stone?" Tom muttered incredulously, of course he would get the least exciting, he cared not about some resurrection stone or speaking to the dead there was no point to that.
"Yes, I am a descendant from the youngest, the cloak of invisibility, which I might have stole and replaced with a different one…" Harry admitted.
Tom let out an incredulous chuckle, "I assume it was sold?" he then asked.
"No, I sort of stole it from my own grandfather," Harry said sheepishly.
"There's only one person rumoured to have such an item…" Tom told him thoughtfully, "I am unsure if it's true or not, but I'm inclined to believe it."
"Charles Potter, yes," Harry nodded, "He's too proud for words," he was quite possibly the only student in Hogwarts who required glasses now; he refused to let him near his eyes. He didn't think it was anything to do with the fact he hated Slytherin's, at least it didn't seem to be the case at all.
"You're a Potter?" Tom rubbed his temples; he'd had enough surprises for one night. He looked nothing like Charles Potter or his father. He was much better looking than either Potter could ever hope to be.
"If they did a test it would prove conclusively that I was Hadrian Peverell, magic covered its tracks all too well. I wasn't about to let anyone have my cloak, it's too handy, nobody will notice for a few generations when it begins to fade anyway." Harry said smugly, being Master of Death had its perks he had to admit although he certainly didn't admit it often. It might just last James thought-out his school years if he's lucky. "Your grandfather or uncle probably has the Gaunt Ring which is the resurrection stone in their possession. It's the very last thing they have to their name, since obviously you got the locket." and in a year or so he would also have the ring. It would never work for Tom like it would for him since they were actually his. All of them.
"Did you have someone you liked in your own time?" Tom asked changing the subject he needed time to think, shrinking the trunk he put it in his bag.
"No, I spent six years running from…people," Harry replied darkly, "I never had the chance to have a relationship, with anyone." even if he had he wouldn't be about to spill it to Tom, by his earlier proclamation that wouldn't have been a good idea. 'Mine' it should scare the hell out of him, but for some reason it didn't. It excited him on a level that he hadn't felt in a long time or perhaps at all.
"Who?" Tom demanded icily, despite the fact he felt self-assured with the knowledge that nobody had or would ever get to see Hadrian other than him. Hadrian was his completely.
"I'm not talking about this anymore; I want to forget about it." Harry shook his head refusing to tell him, just like he wouldn't tell him more about the Dursley's.
Only Harry shouldn't have underestimated just how smart and ruthless Tom could be about getting answers - even without Harry telling him. The list was becoming quite endless, and Tom wasn't one to forget even if he knew he would have to wait years to get his revenge on those who had hurt what was his.