Son of Magic

Chapter 6

November 13th, 1941
Hogwarts,

Castle Grounds

The next day Harry was lounging around on the fresh grass in front of the Black Lake with Fleamont and Alphard. Curiously enough they both got along... maybe not well, but they were civil enough, even if he suspected it was more to set his mind at ease than any actual camaraderie forming between them.

It was well past midday when a figure came and blocked their sun, clearing their throat behind them. Instantly, Harry had to stop himself from outwardly reacting to the new arrival, knowing exactly who it was that was unashamedly blocking their sun.

All three seventh-years turned around to see who came to disturb their peace, the other two surprised to see that it was Tom Riddle interrupting their relaxing Saturday afternoon.

Fleamont frowned at the little Slytherin but said nothing. Alphard, on the other hand, looked about ready to insult him or curse him.

"Riddle, right?" Harry decided to ask him with a cautious smile, hoping Alphard would get the message to shut up.

"Yes," Tom agreed, not looking the least bit intimidated by the upper-years he faced. "Do you think it is possible for us to talk in private for a moment, Peverell?" he asked him politely with a charming smile in place, not showing at all how much it hurt for him to request instead of demand. But Harry knew, knew that it hurt him a great deal. He also knew that it was particularly difficult for Tom to admit his shortcomings, which is why he was still very surprised that Tom decided to take this route to introduce himself into his life.

"It's getting rather chilly out here, might as well head back to the castle," he said, brushing off the dirt from his knees. "We can have your chat on our way in," he agreed reluctantly as he got up, heart beating erratically in his chest. "I'll see you after dinner Fleamont. Library?" he asked, proud that he didn't stumble his way through his words with the way his nerves were all jumbled.

"Yeah, we'll walk together," Fleamont agreed with a winning smile, which quickly turned into a frown when his eyes landed on Riddle. His eyes seemed to warn Tom not to try any funny business. How cute, Harry's grandfather was still looking out for him, even after he'd seen that he was perfectly capable of handling himself.

"Alphard?" Harry asked, knowing that the other boy would understand. It was truly a wonder how their friendship had developed over the past few months.

"Dinner," he agreed, not taking his hostile and calculating eyes off Riddle. That might be a problem in future, but Harry decided to deal with one issue at a time.

With one last nod, he turned and started following after Tom, waiting for him to break the ice between them, curiously wondering what it was that he would say to him first.

It took a while, but eventually, Tom spoke. "Professor Slughorn has informed me that he has assigned you as my tutor," he started in a natural tone, giving him a short side glance as they walked towards the castle entrance.

Harry raised his eyebrows but kept his face impassive. No pleasantries, then, and right to the point. It was so very typical of him that Harry felt an almost unstoppable urge to smile wildly at the boy walking by his side. It has been so long, so very long since they had spoken so casually together. Even in their last weeks together, the tension had grown so much that it extinguished any playfulness and ease that had developed between them.

It had been so long, and he missed him, missed him too much to put to words. He longed to rush this all along and hold him in his arms. That's what he wanted, it's what he'd wanted long before they came back here. But that didn't mean that he was going to throw away all of his plans and make it easy for Tom. No, it needed to be a slow but sure process. The world depended on that.

Tom waited patiently for a good few minutes in silence before breaking it. "I assure you that I am a fast learner, and that I will not take up a lot of your time. This was the first EE that I've ever received, and I intend to make sure that it is my last. I think that a month should suffice to ensure such results," he said, keeping a tight leash on his frustration. He turned around and gave Harry his most charming smile while on the inside he was raving and screaming.

How was it that Hadrian Peverell seemed utterly unaffected by him? In fact, he looked positively peeved with him, and his silence wasn't exactly convincing him otherwise.

Was it something Alphard said to him, or maybe Dumbledore? It was possible, also probable, but Peverell wasn't the type to let other people's opinion affect his judgment.

Tom himself had never acted anything but exemplary in public, which meant it couldn't have been anything he had done. Yet here Peverell was, acting as if he would rather be anywhere else but there with him. He would dismiss it as annoyance at having to tutor a fourth-year, but it felt deeper than that. It was the way he wouldn't look directly into his eyes and that unusual tension in his shoulders.

Harry's heart didn't skip a beat when he saw that beautiful smile, however insincere he knew it was—it didn't.

He gulped silently and threw Tom a small grin. "Slughorn mentioned as much," he decided to finally say, running an agitated hand through his hair. "I need to warn you, I can't have this clashing with any quidditch practice. Thursday evening after classes is about the only time I have available. Would that be agreeable with you?"

He wasn't really asking, not when he had already clearly stated that it was the only time he was free to help him. He wasn't exactly being impolite, but something about his tone rubbed Tom the wrong way. It was so... not reluctant, even if it was obvious that he was. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something off with the way Peverell was acting with him. The best he could describe it would be strained.

"I should manage," Tom managed to say without letting on how confused he felt.

This wasn't at all how he'd imagined this would go. There were no piqued interests or charmed hearts, and he'd definitely not been given the chance to seduce him. No, it wasn't going at all as he'd imagined.

"Right," Harry nodded, once again running a hand through his hair. "I'll see you in the library at five on Thursday," he said and, without another word, turned the other direction and took his leave from Tom's company.

Tom stood at the castle entrance completely dumbfounded and lost at the turn of events.

Something just didn't fit.

Hadrian Peverell liked everyone in the castle, in the whole damned world, except, it seemed, Tom Riddle. There was no other or more gentle way to put it. Hadrian Peverell just didn't like him.

Harry was usually more than excited to socialise, friendly smirk always on his lips. There should have been no reason for him not to act in the same friendly manner with Tom, and the prospect that he might not hadn't even crossed his mind. But somehow, for some reason Tom couldn't see, Harry didn't like him. Period. Instead, he seemed agitated and uncomfortable, almost irritated by his presence. Leaving as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

For some reason, Peverell didn't like him, and that thought settled a heavy rock in the pit of his stomach.

Tom clenched his jaw and made his way to the dungeons, his eyes alight with fury.

Hadrian Peverell may not like him at this present time, but that would change.

One day soon he'd have him on his back, begging to be touched by him—begging to take him.

One day soon he wouldn't be able to live without him.