Chapter 12
The past few months had been extremely odd to say the least, it was now the end of April, Christmas and New Year had gone and past. Nothing was said about Tom's birthday, and Harry had felt extremely sad for the teenager.
He knew what it was like for your birthdays to be ignored, but it shouldn't have been the same here at Hogwarts, unfortunately he couldn't even say happy birthday since how the hell was he supposed to get out of knowing his birthday? So he had kept his silence on the matter. He had gotten some things for Christmas though from those he was closest to, the other purebloods. What was odd was the fact Tom rarely let him out of his sight, the only time he got rest from the staring was classes he didn't have with him - most obvious one healing.
Which he was currently attending, able to relax he was utterly perplexed by his odd behaviour. It made him anxious and suspicious, did he know? Was he suspecting something? But he knew that it was impossible. Nobody could actually think up - you are the Master of Death and you came back in time - no, there was something else going on and he couldn't put his finger on it.
It had happened around about the same time that the students from Ravenclaw with glasses flocked to him all wanting their eyes fixed - and without needing to actually say anything he had a business venture which saw him with a sizable income.
Myrtle had gone around telling everyone five galleons! And they hadn't even thought twice about handing it over. It hadn't been long before the rest of the student body had found out either, the money pouch now rested in his breast pocket, he kept it on him at all times.
Those that hadn't been able to afford it, he had done regardless of whether he got their money or not. He felt it unfair, quite a few Slytherins sneered at his actions, Avery and Lestrange amongst them while quite a few of the others commended him on it for gaining their loyalty, that it was such a Slytherin move to make causing the others that had sneered to shut up.
Avery was never confrontational; he did have his way of letting Harry know he despised him though. He wasn't an idiot he knew why Avery never outright said anything to him, due to Tom's ever quivering temper no doubt.
Although he never showed it amongst the students, nor in front of him funnily enough, he just knew him well enough (and wasn't that bloody shocking?) to know when he was pissed off, being able to sense Tom's magic also helped too. They always disappeared to somewhere within the vastness of Slytherin common rooms. Another way he was alone and able to get away mostly to the library.
Dumbledore had toned down the looks for a while, but he was still watching him, in fact it was more of an irritated yet suspicious admiration he seemed to have now. Due to the fact all the staff had of course learned of the fact he was correcting the eyesight of all the students. He had taken a lot of delight in giving Dumbledore all the homework he had heaped upon him within two months of getting it. He had done it in full view of the staff after going to the staff room after conveniently 'forgetting' to give it to him during Transfiguration.
-----0 FLASH BACK 0------
Harry knocked on the door to the staffroom, where he knew very well there was a staff meeting currently being held. He almost jiggled around in anticipation; he had been considering doing this for the past week. Being amongst Slytherins was bringing out his rather vindictive side...oh who was he kidding? He'd always had a vindictive streak and it had come out much earlier than this.
"Can I help you?" his Ancient Runes teacher said as she opened the door, he was once again struck by how young she looked compared to how she did in his time. Admittedly he'd only ever seen her at meal times at the Great Hall, but he still saw her. Bathsheba Babbling, she didn't have make the students work hard, she was strict but fair like so many of the teachers here.
"Um..." Harry looked around wide eyed for show, stepping back, "I...er...it doesn't matter," he squeaked out his surprise.
"Mr. Peverell, you came here for a reason, we don't bite," Babbling teased him, her lips twitching in obvious amusement.
"I forgot to give Professor Dumbledore my homework, I saw him come in a few minutes ago, I didn't...expect..." Harry murmured overwhelmed.
"Go on then," Babbling urged, opening the door further, the eyes of all the teachers landed on him.
Harry made a show of taking a deep breath before hurrying over to Dumbledore, dipping into his bag catching him frowning out of the corner of his eye. Biting his lip to stop himself smirking, he started pulling out all his homework watching his eyes go wide and glance around the room apprehensively.
Harry almost cackled in delight, it was so much fun getting Dumbledore to react to anything after seeing him always composed no matter what he was doing in his lifetime. "I finished my homework early, I know I had another fortnight to finish it, but I didn't want to lose points! I meant to give it to you after class but I totally forgot."
With that Harry continued to take out the rolled up parchments and hand them to the sinking Transfiguration teacher. He found it increasingly difficult not to giggle, but he somehow managed to keep himself composed.
Eventually the long pile stopped, as he had made a show of removing them one by one, so it merely looked worse.
"I did them all the best I can, I promise, and thank you so much for helping me understand Transfiguration so well! Although my hands did hurt after so much writing!" Harry gushed, to add to it all he noticed the Headmaster entering the room by another door he hadn't noticed. "There, that's them all." he said standing up, slipping his bag over his shoulder again, "I'm sorry to have interrupted your meeting; I'll just go now, sorry!"
He turned around and walked out sliding the door closed as slowly as he could without drawing attention.
"How much homework did you give him, Albus?" Slughorn demanded indignantly, "How dare you give my Slytherin's that amount of homework without informing me?!"
Harry's shoulders shook as he laughed out his amusement silently before the door closed with a definitive click. Nothing else could be heard, but that didn't surprise him, there was a silencing spell around the room. With a vindictive grin, he walked off towards his class whistling a tune under his breath.
That would teach the old fool.
"What has amused you so much?" Tom said, surprisingly Harry, causing him to turn around exasperated, he couldn't get away from the teenager, he somehow found him no matter where he went. Tom's lips just twitched at Hadrian's annoyance, he felt it was more to do with the fact he could surprise him than anything else.
"Went to give Dumbledore my homework," Harry shrugged seeing no need to keep it a secret, his smirk flashing out again just remembering the look on his face.
"That makes you so amused?" Tom asked doubtful, his voice smooth as always.
"In front of the rest of the staff," Harry said an air of exaggerated innocence put on.
Tom snorted at the look, finding it amusing despite himself.
"From what I hear Professor Slughorn wasn't happy," Harry said his eyes wide in feigned confusion. "It was just too bad there's a silencing spell on the room...it sure would have been amusing to hear the rest of it to say the least."
"I'm sure," Tom replied, before they began walking to the Great Hall to grab a snack - it was break time after all. Only Tom notice the looks they were getting from everyone, and quite literally basked in it. Together they were going to be unstoppable, he was determined of that - he didn't care if Hadrian was willing or not, he would wear him down in time if he had to. Considering what he had seen and observed from Hadrian so far - he knew it wasn't going to be a problem.
Hadrian was his.
----0 End of Flashback 0----
"Now last week we learned the Ferula spell, that helps you give patients or even friends aid in the form of a bandage during battle until they can get proper help by a heal--" Yaxley paused as the door open, he didn't normally get disturbed unless someone was injured during one of their other classes - which had only ever happened once so far this year.
"I am so sorry, Healer Yaxley, please don't let me interrupt, I just need a word with Irene," a petite black haired young woman (older to the students) stated as she quickly walked up to the aforementioned witches office.
"Not a problem Apprentice Pomfrey," Yaxley stated courageously, before turning back to his class. Which he was beginning to enjoy more than any other, Hadrian Peverell was a natural healer, he had tested him after two weeks of being in his classes.
He was ecstatic really, judging by the surprised yet stunned look on his face he hadn't realized, but that was perfectly normal, he hadn't found out until he was fifteen. After Hogwarts he had gone straight on to be an apprentice with one of the most renowned healers of her generation, he had passed within a year and a half.
He was kept very busy, due to his knowledge on dark curses and his natural ability.
Harry gasped softly, gazing at the woman in wonder, this was Madam Pomfrey? Bloody hell, she was an Apprentice! He had to wonder why she hadn't finished it and remained only a Medi-Witch. Had she immediately became an employee at Hogwarts or did she go on to work at St. Mungo's for some time?
He also wondered who she was apprenticed to, was it Chang? This was the first time he saw her so he assumed not, perhaps she had taking a healing course and was just friendly with her enough to go to her if she needed help or encouragement.
"Today we will be learning how to close wounds, now it's a complicated spell that will take considerable power and dedication to learn." Yaxley informed the third years sternly, this wasn't a class for the faint hearted, it was during these classes he found out whether they had the heart to be a healer or not. It's not everyone that could stand the sight of blood. He'd had many students wishing to be healers but unable to push aside their feelings to help others.
Harry raised his hand, his head cocked to the side from where he sat, half the beds in the infirmary were gone, replaced instead with seats and tables for them, admittedly there weren't many students actually taking a healing class. He put his quill down once he had finished dictating what the teacher said - as he had demanded the second they sat down.
"Yes, Mr. Peverell?" Yaxley made a gesture for him to ask away.
"How are we going to properly learn the spell?" Harry enquired.
"Once I am satisfied you all know the spell properly we will be visiting St. Mungo's to see the spell in action, perhaps even use it if the occasion where you are allowed occurs." Yaxley replied most didn't trust the students to perform the spell so the likelihood of more than a few students getting to use the spell was slim to nothing.
Everyone nodded eagerly.
"Now to start you must clean the wound, 'Tergeo," is the word, it cleans up the blood, ooze anything that's stuck in the wound so it can be healed without risking infection. Then once it's cleared you use the spell "Confervo," that will knit the skin back together.
"Now it depends on how long the wound has been there, whether it heals without scarring, unless of course it's a cursed scar then there is nothing further than healing you that magic can do." he pointed to the board, with the spells names and what they did written clearly for them to see - also how the spell is said to help them get it down better and additional information as well. "Write down everything that is on the board."
Harry really liked Yaxley; he was nothing like his son...or was it grandson? Hell for all he knew it wasn't his direct branch but from a brother branch of the family tree.
He also really liked the healing class, not only because it was interesting but because he was actually learning things he didn't know - albeit there was a few things he did, but considering the length of time he'd been in the hospital wing (and amount of times) he would have obviously picked up a few things over the years.
During his last life (his past but in future) he had let everything heal naturally unable to heal himself.
After twenty minutes of writing everything down, they stopped and waited for their professor to continue, which he did almost right away - predictably since he always did during every class. There was a lot to cram in especially considering they only had the class one a week, albeit even if it was a two period class stuck together.
"Now do any of you know of another way to heal injuries such as cuts?" Yaxley asked of the students.
Three of the students raised their hands.
"Yes, Mr. Selwyn?" Yaxley pointed to the Ravenclaw.
"A Potion," he replied confidently.
"Yes," Yaxley drawled curbing his natural habit of being sarcastic before speaking again, "But which?"
"A Healing potion," Selwyn guessed unsurely.
"Anyone else?" Yaxley queried glancing at the room. "Peverell," he demanded, knowing his hand had also been up.
"Well...doesn't Murtlap Essence heal cuts?" Harry questioned, already knowing the answer.
"Very well done, can anyone name another?"
"Essence of Dittany?" Harry chimed in after a few seconds of silence.
Yaxley smirked, "Indeed, very well, write it down for your homework I want a detailed description and the actions of those potion ingredients and why they would come in handy." Yaxley pushed the board down showing the ingredients that Hadrian had spoken about. With one look from him, they began to scribble frantically on their parchments.
So far none of the students had declared themselves not up for this line of work, and couldn't wait to see how these ones would turn out. Sometime a student did get one of the ingredients right, but never both of them, they were much too advanced normally. "Oh, and twenty points to Slytherin Mr. Peverell."
The rest of the class was reading from their book, but Harry wasn't really reading it, he was stewing on the fact he would have to go to that damn orphanage. Here in Hogwarts he was secluded by everything, and quite often forgot...or rather allowed himself to forget that the Germans were dropping bombs on them, that the Muggle world was in a state of war.
He had written to the innkeeper at The Leaky Cauldron to enquire about prices and discounts for staying over the summer holidays, only to be told point blank that he couldn't stay there until he was seventeen without parental or guardian consent. He honestly didn't know what the hell to do; he didn't want to go to that damn orphanage.
All that money he'd saved up, happy that he would be able to avoid it only to be slapped in the face. He could use an aging potion and go as an older wizard for the duration - nobody would be the wiser. Harry winced when he felt his mind being penetrated and yanked open by Death, damn it that hurt!
'You must go' Death revealed almost sounding grim.
'I must what?' Harry thought incredulously.
'You must spend the summer holidays at the Orphanage, or at least part of it,' Death insisted.
'WHY' he whined unable to curb his own thought process so he DIDN'T whine.
'So you can understand him, he thinks he's alone and that nobody could see where he is coming from' Death replied softly.
'I don't know about that, I might not have been in an orphanage but I understand what its like to be alone!' Harry stated sharply.
'I am not saying you don't, but arguments in future can be avoided by your visit there,' Death confessed.
'Visit, huh?' Harry muttered, sighing softly, rubbing at his temples outwardly, not really sure why they would have arguments centred on an orphanage or what it was like. 'I really don't like this' Harry admitted stopping himself from gritting his teeth in frustration.
'The choice is yours to make, Harry, I am only giving my advice,' Death said, 'But the best way forward is for you to go, things will begin to make sense very quickly' his lips twitched just thinking about it, Harry would have someone he could rely on that would never change - and never be someone other than himself.
Harry knew all there was to Tom Riddle other than his possessiveness of those he declares as his. Something that hadn't happened in the previous timeline, and he would listen to Harry in a way that nobody else could get though to him.
This was the best way forward otherwise he would never be telling Harry this...things were going to be difficult before they got better. Harry had figured out a way to avoid going, and it was true to his thoughts - nobody would have known better or found out for that matter.
'What will make sense? You know what's going on, that's not fair!' Harry complained but without any bite.
'I know everything,' Death taunted amused.
'Yeah, yeah, no need to brag,' Harry said, he wasn't about to become dependant on anyone, so that was his reason for not asking Death for every little detail. 'Does Myrtle survive?' his tone hopeful.
'That I cannot say, there are things still in motion,' it was true, it depended on a few actions as to whether the girl would survive or not. He would never to the disservice as to lie, especially not to the young Master of Death. 'As I said, Harry, the choice is yours, I am afraid I must depart, you know how to call me' and with that Death departed once more.
Well it looked as though he was going to a bloody orphanage then Harry thought grimly, he didn't like this one bit but he did trust Death, he hadn't steered him wrong yet and always made sure to let him know that the choices were always his. He would do it, but if he ever did steer him wrong then that was it, no second chances.