Remus was waiting for Harry when he stepped back into his bedroom, and he froze under the disapproving, gold-flecked stare of his godfather for a long moment before slumping. "How much trouble am I in?"
"Where were you?" Remus asked in return, because Harry had only put that he had business in his note.
Harry took a moment to decide whether he would be in more trouble if he refused to explain the reason for his outing, or if he admitted he'd spent the night with Voldemort. They're going to figure out when his birthday is eventually, he realised and sighed. "It's Voldemort's birthday," he offered, leaving it for Remus to connect those dots.
Remus' expression didn't change. "And you had to stay out all night to give him a gift?"
Harry straightened and crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to answer that.
Remus held firm for another moment, before sighing and rubbing tiredly at his face. "Have you slept?"
Harry tightened his arms over his chest. "I took a potion that'll keep me up for another couple hours," he admitted.
Remus gave him a tired look. "Which potion?"
Harry resisted the urge to wince as he admitted, "Orange Zing."
Remus started. "That's auror restricted."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "I'm aware. I also know that I can't take it again for another fifty or so hours, and if I take any other stimulant potions to keep awake after its worn off, I'll end up with a blinding migraine and will throw up anything I eat until I can sleep. I'm not thoughtlessly medicating myself."
"It sure looks like you are," Remus informed him, and Harry refused to flinch at the accusation. Remus' mouth tightened and the gold in his eyes intensified. "You're grounded for a month."
"Fine."
"And we're not telling your dad or Uncle Sirius about–"
"The fact that I'm brewing and taking potions that I don't, legally, have any right to?" Harry finished drily.
"Exactly," Remus agreed, giving up on the disapproving look and going for a more resigned appearance, though his eyes still glinted gold. "Could you at least try to be a law-abiding citizen for more than two months at a time?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll work on that," he replied before motioning towards the bedroom door. "Shall we go assure everyone I'm back? And warn them that I'm going to crash for about six hours fairly soon."
Remus frowned as he stood. "Only six? I thought it was eight."
"That's for humans. We're different."
"Right." Remus nodded in understanding before waving Harry ahead of him.
Harry took a deep breath and left his room to face the music, as it were.
-0-
Harry mostly managed to keep his misdeeds on the lowdown for the rest of the school year and into the summer holiday. While he could hardly keep out of the Realm of Death completely, given his attempts to keep tabs on his quasi-spy network, he did avoid making any long trips via it. And, too, with his brothers and him going to the Weasleys' every afternoon, while Lily and James were both working, there wasn't much chance for him to run into people who irritated him the right way that he felt the need to just kill them.
As summer started and Ron started talking about getting his Hogwarts letter, Harry's mind turned to another close friend who would be starting Hogwarts that year.
"Mum, Dad?" he said over dinner a couple nights before his eleventh birthday.
James and Lily eyed him with similar vaguely concerned expressions, and Will coughed a laugh into his dinner.
Harry couldn't help a small smile. "It's nothing bad," he promised.
"You say that, and yet..." James returned.
"You are your father's son," Lily added with a straight face.
James looked like he wasn't sure whether he should be insulted or pleased by that, which had Will in stitches and Chris giggling quietly into one hand.
"Given," Harry admitted with an equally straight face, and Lily's eyes glinted. "All that aside, I know you were talking about giving me the guest room–"
"Did you tell him?" James stage whispered to Lily.
"–and while that would be lovely and all, I'm fine continuing to bunk with Will and Chris. I was thinking, instead, that you might consider looking into hosting one of the muggleborn students." Because Harry could find a way to get Hermione put under the Potters' name, so long as she agreed to attend Hogwarts. And, knowing Hermione, she would.
Lily looked startled, but pleased, while James turned thoughtful. "We could," Lily agreed. "It would be one less muggleborn chancing getting put with a family that's only taking them on for the PR."
"And we meet the requirements," James agreed, waving one hand towards Harry. "It doesn't say your child who's the same general age can't be a squib, and Will's only two years below him, besides."
"You'll have to be careful," Lily warned Harry.
Harry just raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes, because me blabbing my secrets to every overnight guest has actually been a problem in the past."
James snorted. "He has a point."
Lily sighed. "Just–"
"Only in emergencies, I swear," Harry promised, utterly serious. Because he knew Hermione, and the more often he used death magic while she was in residence, the more likely she was to catch him. Yearly visits to deliver Voldemort's birthday presents aside, his regular usage could be arrested during the holidays.
Lily looked at James and he nodded. "I'll put our names into the lottery tomorrow. I can specify year and gender, but nothing else."
"A first year," Lily decided. "And..." She looked around the table, biting her lip.
"We could use a bit more oestrogen around here," Harry commented mildly, and Lily smiled, the only other one at the table who knew enough of muggle biology to get the reference.
"What's 'oestrogen'?" Will asked.
"It's a hormone that girls have more of than boys," Harry offered. When Will's brows tightened further, he reached over and patted his brother's shoulder. "Don't worry about it."
"Harry just means we should ask for a girl, which would be nice," Lily admitted. "It is getting a little boy-heavy around here."
"So?" James asked, and Lily smacked his arm. "Ow," he complained, making a big point of clutching the point of contact and looking wounded.
Chris reached over with his fork and poked James' side. "Listen to Mum."
Lily covered her mouth with one hand and turned her head away, eyes dancing.
"Did you just poke me with the fork that's been in your mouth?" James asked, looking flummoxed, and Chris grinned, showing off the hole where the last of his baby teeth had been. "You did, didn't you? You know what that means."
Chris' eyes went wide and he clutched his fork to his chest. "It's mine!" he insisted. "Harry gave it to me!" Because Harry had set the table.
James nodded slowly. "True, true. But you still poked me with it."
Lily rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers in front of James' nose, making him go cross-eyed. "Leave your youngest to eat in peace, reindeer-boy."
"Not a reindeer!" James complained, and Harry and Will traded grins while Chris ducked his head, because Lily always used that line to distract their father.
Lily patted his shoulder consolingly. "It's fine, dear. You don't have to hide the truth from your family."
"I–" James stared around the table, taking in the grins all three boys were failing to hide. "Oh, ha-ha. Laugh it up."
Lily leant in and kissed his cheek. "First year girl," she reminded him.
James sighed. "Yeah, okay. Tomorrow morning, first thing."
Now all Harry had to do was wait until after everyone had responded – everything he'd heard so far about the process suggested the muggleborn possibilities had until the first weekend of August to make their decision – then sneak into the ministry and ensure the match-ups went as he wanted.
-0-
When Harry opened his presents the morning of his birthday, he found himself short one.
"What, no benefactor gift?" Sirius complained while Harry frowned at the empty space at the bottom of the pile, where it usually was.
"Maybe he decided that, since we knew who he was, he'd best cease with the gifts?" James suggested uncertainly.
"We know who it is?" Peter whispered.
Harry snorted and stood with a handful of new clothing and books. "Yes," he said, and he knew his voice was too sharp, but the snub hurt, as expected as it was, "that is the sort of thing he'd do. Excuse me." He hurried up to his room, where he dropped his things onto his bed in a giant heap before dropping down next to the pile and rubbing angrily at his face. "Damn him," he muttered to himself.
"Language," Lily cautioned as she stepped into the room with the last few gifts that Harry hadn't been able to grab. She set them on top of the pile, then settled gently on the bed next to Harry and pulled him into a hug. "It's okay to be upset, sweetheart."
Harry wrapped his arms around her and hid his face against her shoulder, disgusted with the heat of tears he felt prickling against his eyes. "I should have known he was going to do this," he complained, and his voice cracked.
"No one can hope to know every one of Voldemort's moves before he makes them," Lily offered wisely.
But Harry should have. He knew Voldemort practically as well as he knew himself, knew that he'd pushed too hard on the man's birthday, had let too much slip; discomfited dark lords did not tend to end in gifts, even after half a year of space.
He took a deep breath, let the scent of his mum centre him a bit, then pulled away and put on a smile that felt a little too tight around the edges. "We'd best head back down for cake, lest Will and Chris mutiny."
Lily smiled back, her eyes sad. "I'm rather more concerned about Dad and Uncle Sirius, personally," she admitted.
"Greater reach?"
"Greater destructive abilities."
Harry laughed, let himself enjoy the mental image of Padfoot and Prongs taking to the kitchen with claws and antlers. "Yes, well. Give Chris and Will time."
Lily hugged him around the shoulders before standing. "I'll trust you to assist in keeping them in line."
"What makes you think I won't help them?" Harry asked, curious.
"Mum's intuition," Lily said before sauntering from the room.
Harry grinned after her, the motion feeling more natural than he'd have expected, and followed her down the stairs.
Before they could enter the kitchen – from which Harry could hear James suggesting they start chanting for cake – a knock came at the door, rapid and impatient.
Lily looked over at Harry, who shrugged, then called, "I've got it," before turning towards the door.
Harry lingered in the hallway, feeling less interested in facing the rest of his family without his mum.
"Can I help you?" Lily asked once she'd opened the door.
"I believe so, Mrs Potter," a voice that set Harry's heart thudding offered, cool and cultured. He started forward, even as Lily stiffened, clearly recognising the tone the visitor had spoken her name in, if nothing else.
As Harry rounded Lily, he found himself staring at Tom Riddle; brown eyes with circular pupils, black hair perfectly styled, wearing a slightly outdated muggle suit that, nonetheless, passed far better than the attempts made by most magical people. It was like seeing a ghost, this man every inch the dark lord that Harry had loved in another reality. "Tom?" he breathed.
The man grimaced. "Must you?" he complained.
Harry grinned, wide and so unbelievably happy, because the dark lord was there. Which was...so much better than a present hidden at the bottom of the pile without any hint as to the giver, save handwriting. "Blame Albus," he suggested, and Tom – because Harry couldn't possibly think of him by any other name, not when he looked like that – sneered. "Not that I'm not looking forward to Uncle Peter wetting himself when he figures out who you are," Harry continued, "but why are you here?"
Tom scowled and held up a thin box with a green ribbon tied around it. "House-elf revolt," he replied.
Harry snorted, because he didn't need to smell that lie to know it for what it was, but he let it pass. "Mum?" he asked, because he knew his family was still a little uncertain about his not-a-friendship with the dark lord, would probably always be uncertain about it.
Lily looked down at him and sighed before stepping back. "Please come in," she offered.
"Thank you," Tom replied as he stepped inside, a hint of strain in his voice that Harry knew his mother would never notice.
Lily looked momentarily surprised before blanking her expression and asking, "Did you want to stay for cake?"
Harry immediately started nodding, both for the previously mentioned amusement purposes of Peter's reaction, and because he had an unapologetic love for his mum's cakes.
Tom's mouth quirked. "I don't expect your son intends to give me a choice in the matter," he pointed out.
Lily shot Harry a fondly exasperated look. "Give me a minute to warn Uncle Peter," she ordered before leaving them for the kitchen.
The gift was suddenly directly in front of Harry's face, and he couldn't help flinching before turning an unimpressed look on the dark lord. "Really?" he complained.
"Consider it punishment for using my name," Voldemort replied in perfect German.
Harry rolled his eyes and took the gift so he could untie the bow. "You really need to get over that complex, I swear," he returned, sticking to the same language. "You didn't complain when your mum used it."
"That's her prerogative," Tom defended.
"Given," Harry allowed as he got the box open and found the wand within, so very like the one currently in his sheath. He glanced up at the hovering dark lord, one eyebrow raised. "I expect this one is updated from my current one."
"You expect correct," Tom agreed. "It occurred to me that your abilities with death, while an effective form of self-defence, are not..."
"Morally acceptable in polite society?" Harry suggested somewhat drily.
"Essentially. This one has the same spells as your first wand, as well as a number of offensive additions."
"Harry," Lily said, stepping out into the hall, wearing a knowing look. "Cake, come on. And English, if you both please."
"Sorry, Mum," Harry offered, motioning for Tom to follow him into the dining room, where the whole family was sitting around the table, the adults all looking strained, while Will and Chris looked curious.
"You look different," Will declared upon sighting Tom.
Harry snorted. "You can't really expect he'd get away with visiting in a muggle neighbourhood like that," he pointed out.
Will frowned, clearly considering that, while Harry and Tom finished the trip to the table. An extra chair had been added and people shuffled, which left Tom between Peter and Harry. Harry could only assume it was an attempt to bracket the dark lord with people who were less likely to complain about having to sit next to him, and he couldn't help wondering how hard it had been to convince Peter of the necessity.
Lily brought out the cake and Harry suffered being sang to – Tom didn't join in, which didn't surprise Harry, who knew the Dark Lord was tone deaf – then blew out his candles. As Lily took the cake back to the worktop to cut, Sirius leant forward, staring at the box and wand Harry had set on the table in front of him when he'd sat. "So?" Sirius pressed.
Harry twitched his wrist, calling out his old wand and trading it for the new one. "So, same spells as my old one, plus...?" he prompted the dark lord at his side.
"Confringo, expelliarmus, incendio, petrificus totalus, silencio, and stupefy," Tom replied evenly before his expression twisted with disgust. "And a finite incantatem that will only work on the spells the wand can cast."
Harry covered a smile. "It's a complicated, multipurpose spell," he pointed out. "We discussed illusions."
"Similar, and yet not," Tom returned, blanking his expression. "However, I take your meaning." He picked up Harry's old wand and considered it. "I will have to remove the tether from this one and add it to that one."
"Hence the reason for the house-elf revolt," Harry agreed, amused, and Tom shot him a sharp smile. Harry shifted the box out of the way as cake started floating over, directed by Lily.
"Tether?" Sirius asked, tone just shy of hostile.
"May I?" Harry asked, holding out a hand for his old wand, and Tom handed it back with a nasty glint in his eyes. "Duck," he suggested to his brothers, who were between him and the doorway into the hallway, and they quickly leant out of the way so Harry could throw his old wand, having already seen the trick.
"Harry James!" Lily shouted, and Harry heard Tom let out a quiet snort.
And then, not unlike a boomerang, the wand returned to him. Harry caught it with a bright grin and called, "Sorry, Mum!" before looking at Sirius and agreeing, "Tether."
Sirius just sort of stared in disbelief.
Remus cleared his throat. "That is...ingenious."
"It serves its purpose," Tom replied carelessly.
Harry rolled his eyes.
"What about power capabilities?" James asked, his voice tense, as Lily settled into the chair at his side, the cake served. "I know we had to recharge the old wand."
"They are about similar," Tom allowed before switching to German to add, "However, I had a couple ideas about–"
"Voldemort," Harry interrupted, amused.
Tom pinned him with a glare that had the rest of the table shifting uncertainly, but Harry just raised an eyebrow at him. "How many here know about your death abilities?"
"Everyone," Harry replied, making a point to speak English.
Tom hissed some choice comments about Harry's inability to keep secrets and Harry laughed, returning to his cake.
"Brave, brave Harry," Sirius said under his breath, quiet enough that only Remus and Harry would be able to really make the words out, and Remus snorted before ducking his head to focus on his cake.
After a moment of disgusted silence, Tom gave in and asked, "How possible would it be to convert death magic into something capable of charging the wands?"
Harry jerked in surprise and set his fork down before he could make a mess. He turned to stare at the dark lord next to him. "I have no earthly idea," he admitted.
Tom's eyes glinted. "Miracles are possible, then?"
"You're a regular comedian," Harry shot back, rolling his eyes, and Sirius choked while his brothers both giggled. On Tom's other side, Peter let out a quiet moan. "I suspect the only way to know for certain would be to test it."
"Inevitably."
"But not right now. Eat your cake."
Tom snorted, but obeyed, which told Harry, at least, that the dark lord liked the cake. Score one point to Lily.
Once Tom and Harry were both done, however, the dark lord demanded, "Sometime today, Scythe."
Harry snorted and stood. "Mum, Voldemort and I are gonna go play with illegal magic in the back garden," he announced, just to make Tom's mouth twitch.
Lily sighed while James and Sirius both let out very obvious coughs. "Just...activate the wards first."
"I know," Harry promised, motioning for Tom to follow him.
Will and Chris joined him at the door, Will insisting, "I want to see!"
Harry smiled and ruffled his brother's hair. "Of course you do," he agreed as he let them outside. "Remind me what we do when one of my doorways are open?"
Will scoffed, but Chris obediently answered, "Don't touch it unless you're holding our hand."
"Gold star," Harry promised.
"Hey!" Will complained and Chris stuck his tongue out at him.
"I did not approve of children," Tom informed him in German.
"I'll make a note," Harry shot back before pointing at the two ward stones. "Can you activate those, please?"
Tom sighed, but went to do so while Harry settled his brothers. When the dark lord returned, he held out a hand. "Wands."
Harry raised an eyebrow, but handed them both over. Tom added the tether to the newer wand, took it off the old one, then handed the new one to Harry. "We'll run the tests with the old one," Tom said as Harry slipped his new wand away. "Can you bring up one of your portals?"
Harry nodded and opened a mini one in the palm of his hand, holding it between them.
"Cool!" Will declared, peering over Harry's shoulder.
"I can't see!" Chris complained.
Tom's expression tightened and Harry ordered, "Both of you, sit down."
"But–"
"William, I will call Mum out here and make her take you back inside."
Will went back to the picnic table, huffing the whole way, with Chris trailing him in a slump.
"Sorry," Harry offered, switching back to German.
Tom gave a tight nod. "Your brother said something about holding your hand if touching the portal?"
"Oh, yeah. You'll survive the contact without, but it hurts like you have no idea. I can share my immunity with you with skin contact."
Tom looked, expectedly, uncertain. "You forgot to mention that the first time," he commented.
Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "You weren't, actually, thinking about touching one then." He took a deep breath. "Look, it's not a big deal, having my parents recharge–"
"My mother seems to think you have...feelings for me," Tom got out in a rush, grimacing.
Harry stared at him for a second, then proceeded to fluently curse out Merope in Russian.
Tom burst out laughing and stepped back, getting out of range of the wavering doorway over Harry's hand.
"I hate you so much right now," Harry informed the dark lord, his cheeks far too warm.
"Does your mother know what sort of language you use?" Tom teased him, and there was still a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, but his humour was...completely unexpected.
"So much hatred," Harry insisted, because that was the only response he could wrap his mind around right then.
Tom stepped back into his space and, with only a momentary hesitation, laced his fingers with Harry's, both of their hands palm-up under the still-fluctuating doorway.
:Please don't do this to me,: Harry breathed out in a hiss.
Tom met his eyes and squeezed his fingers, then ordered, "Focus," and turned his attention on the doorway.
Harry took a deep breath and forced his thoughts to clear. "Right," he said, and his voice shook a bit, but he ignored it. "What do you need?"
"I know nothing about this magic," Tom admitted, and he sounded both bitter and intrigued, the sort of dichotomy that Harry usually delighted in causing in the dark lord. "Are there any spells you can cast with it? Something that will let me get a feel for it?"
"I could take you into the Realm of Death," Harry replied drily, even as he wracked his brain for some sort of show of death magic that would serve the purpose the dark lord needed. He knew all of the spells, of course, but most of them needed someone there to cast on, and few of those spells had good connotations.
"Perhaps not," Tom said to his suggestion, his mouth twisting with dislike.
Harry snorted and turned to look back at where his brothers were looking bored at the picnic table. "Feet off the grass," he ordered and they both immediately pulled their feet up, looking excited at the chance to see some magic. Harry glanced towards the house, ensuring no one else had joined them, then raised an eyebrow at Tom. "Ready?"
Tom just raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow in response.
Harry closed his eyes, focussing on the...it was really more of an ability, but it should work for what Tom wanted. He opened his eyes and looked down, then breathed out.
Spreading out from their feet, in a circle that easily encompassed the picnic table and threatened both the backdoor of the house and Lily's small vegetable garden, every blade of grass, weed, and struggling flower withered and died.
"Salazar," Tom breathed, and Harry glanced up to find him staring at him, eyes wide with something very like awe.
Harry's mouth twitched. "Rather."
"Mum is gonna kill you," Will declared.
Harry snorted and glanced back at his brothers, both of whom were very obviously not touching the dead grass. "I didn't harm her vegetables, just the grass."
Tom shifted his fingers against Harry's, holding the old wand in one hand while he pulled his own wand out with his other hand. He cast a couple quick spells at Harry's old wand, frowned, and met Harry's gaze. "Can you cast something else?"
Harry glanced off to one side, debating, before looking back at the dark lord and asking, "May I cast something on you? I promise it's not harmful."
Tom's mouth quirked. "Inexplicable as it seems, I'm having a hard time imagining you'd be willing to hurt me."
Harry very determinedly did not react to that, instead focussing on the dark lord. A breath of death magic and a mental flip allowed him to see Tom's, well... Death would have called it a living soul, but most living beings would refer to it as a magical aura. Either way, it was a swirl of dark threads surrounding the man, focussing on his heart, brain, and the hand his wand was in. Where their hands met, Harry's own dark grey threads mingled with Tom's, while the doorway above their hands bled black clouds of death magic.
Harry let the death magic roll over his hand, focussed it towards Tom, towards the loci of the man's magic, his mind and heart, and directed it to sort of boost his magical strength. Momentarily, because he very much doubted the world needed a dark lord with even more magic that he already possessed.
Tom's fingers tightened around Harry's, and he blinked his changed sight away, meeting brown eyes that were watching him hungrily. "Please don't," Harry whispered, because that look had always precluded sex, in his long experience with Tom Riddle. Not this Tom, given, but still.
Tom glanced down at their joined hands. "May I assume you can take magic away?"
"Of course."
Brown eyes that were more thoughtful than hungry looked back up at him. "Could you make someone a squib?"
Harry sighed. "Can I drain someone to the point that they're unable to cast even a weak lumos? Absolutely. But, contrary to pureblood dogma, a squib is not, actually, someone born without any magic. Rather, they're born with magic, but at some point during their growth within the womb–"
Will made a disgusted noise behind him.
"–their forming magical pathways were arrested or completely ravaged. The latter is what happened to me, my lycanthropy destroying what had already been created, as you're aware. But, for normal squibs, think of it in terms of a birth defect, like growing an extra finger, or being blind."
"Hence the reason they can make potions and see past anti-muggle wards," Tom murmured, eyes going distant.
"If, however, what you're really asking is, 'Hey, Scythe, there's this uppity pureblood who I think needs to be stuck as a muggle for a couple months, can you take their magic away and then give it back after?' Yeah, absolutely. Point me in their direction and consider it done," Harry completed with a smile that was all teeth.
"Vindictive streak, Scythe?" Tom teased, his eyes practically dancing.
"Oh, you really have no idea."
Tom smirked, turning his attention back to the squib wand.
"Bored," Will complained in Atlantean.
"Then go back inside," Harry replied, struggling to keep his voice neutral. "I'm sorry that our endeavours aren't to your amusement."
Will let out a disgusted noise and made his way back into the house, kicking at the dead grass with every step.
Harry raised an eyebrow at his youngest brother and Chris shook his head, hugging his knees tighter against his chest. "I'm okay."
"Are you sure?" Harry asked. "This isn't going to get any more–"
"Scythe," Tom interrupted, "I can understand just enough that you're distracting me. Let him stay."
Harry wiggled his eyebrows at Chris and he grinned in reply. "Sorry," he offered to Tom as he turned back to the dark lord.
Tom snorted, not looking away from the spells he was trying to weave into the squib wand. After another moment, he let out a frustrated sound and tried to tug away, but Harry tightened his grip until the dark lord was left scowling at him. "This is not working," he snarled.
"It's not like you to just up and give up on something," Harry said calmly, meeting the angry eyes which were starting to shine through red.
"What do you even know about my endeavours?" Tom shot back, clearly unwilling to be soothed.
Harry narrowed his eyes. "I know you made a wand for a squib, something that a thousand purebloods would have called impossible. I know you sent me a notebook that spoke with my own voice after we'd only talked a few times. I know that you kept doggedly after a rebellion force that avoided you at each turn."
Tom looked away, jaw tight. "It's not the same."
"It is," Harry replied, gentling his voice and reaching up to poke the dark lord's cheek, earning him another snarl. "Tell me where you're getting stuck. I can't cast the spells for you, but I know magic, I know this magic."
Tom glowered at him for a long moment, while Harry just stared back. Finally, Tom hissed something uncomplimentary about Harry's ancestors before snapping, "I can't get a hold on this magic. I can sense it, when you cast it, but when I reach to tie a spell around it–"
Harry's eyes widened, realising the trouble: Tom was expecting death magic to move in the same way as living magic, which had a more thread-like quality, but death magic was creeping shadows and last breaths, intangible as the soul it was tied to. "May I cast something on you again?" he requested, unwilling to cast anything on the dark lord without warning.
Tom narrowed his eyes. "Yes," he bit out.
Harry gently held his free hand over the dark lord's eyes, focussing on casting the spell to see magic – which came so naturally to use on himself – on Tom.
Tom jerked away and opened his eyes, snarling, "Scythe, wha–"
Harry smirked as awe bled across the dark lord's face. The man held up his own hand, turning it so he could stare at all sides. "Magic," Harry offered, not even trying to hide how amused he was. "Unlike the living magic variety, this one doesn't have any noticeable after-effects, and light quality doesn't seem to change how much you can or can't see. But, more importantly, this spell lets you see–" Harry cut himself off and rolled his eyes, realising that Tom was too distracted by his own hand to listen. "You're worse than my brothers," he complained, catching the dark lord's hand. "Tom. Focus."
Tom's eyes finally focussed in his general direction, looking through him, rather than meeting his eyes, but Harry had expected that. What he hadn't expected was for Tom to murmur, "You do have magic. How powerful were you?"
"Sufficiently," Harry replied with a careless shrug. "And of course I have magic, I'm a werewolf."
"Is that werewolf magic?"
"Some of it," Harry allowed. He expected the Hallows were also mixed in with his magic, as well as ties to Death and whatever remained of his ties to his original reality, assuming those were visible. He snapped a finger in Tom's face, and the dark lord jerked back, a scowl twisting his mouth. "Doorway's over here." He motioned towards the still active doorway over their entwined fingers.
Tom's brows furrowed and he lifted his hand like he might touch it, but thought better. "That is..." He shook his head.
"Not what you'd been expecting," Harry suggested.
"Rather." Tom looked back towards him, still not focussing on him. "Can I cast magic while–" He motioned to his eyes.
"I've never had a problem with it," Harry admitted, because there had been days where he'd wanted to know how a spell looked whilst being cast, or an object was resisting a spell and he wanted to know why.
Tom nodded and pulled his own wand back out to cast spells over the squib wand. His brow started to furrow, though, and Harry suspected death magic was simply too different to power a living magic wand. "Tom–" he started.
The dark lord's eyes shot towards him, narrowing with irritation. "Would you cea–" and then he froze, staring at Harry.
Harry blinked. "What just...happened?"
Tom's hand slowly came up, his wand held awkwardly away from Harry, and he brushed two fingers against Harry's cheek. Harry slammed his eyes closed, taking in a deep breath. "You have magic," Tom breathed.
"Good catch, genius," Harry snapped, voice too tight because his heart was practically doing a tap-dance in his chest. And, were Harry not so young, he expected it wouldn't be the only organ having a field day because the dark lord was too close.
Because Merlin forbid that Tom Riddle not discover how to completely ruin Harry and use it against him at every opportunity. Were Harry not so enjoying having a family – wasn't so determined to grow up with his brothers, so he could keep them safe – he would be going after that ritual to speed up his ageing again.
"I'm an idiot," Tom whispered, sounding more awed than embarrassed. "I've been trying to tie the wand to magic from a different plane, but there's a nearly untapped source right here, isn't there?"
Harry's eyes widened as understanding dawned. "You want to tie the wand to my magic?"
"Yes," Tom agreed, and his eyes practically glowed, he was so pleased with his own genius. "Bypass your natural magical pathways entirely. You don't need them if the wand already has the blueprints, you just need a connection between those blueprints and your own–" He brushed his fingers against Harry's cheek again, and Harry realised he was touching the strands of Harry's magic.
Harry's own excitement was tempered when something else occurred to him, and he yanked the magical sight from the dark lord, forcing him to focus on Harry. Tom immediately snatched his hand away from his face, and Harry couldn't help a bitter smile at that sign of the reticent dark lord he was used to. "I'm not the only one," he pointed out.
Tom scowled. "Only one what?"
"I'm not the only squib. I'll play guinea pig, and happily, but I have magic, as morally unacceptable as it might be. You figure this out, you make this available to every squib."
"I will not–!"
"You will!" Harry snapped, glaring at the dark lord, because he was apparently incapable of living without fighting the good fight for at least one disenfranchised corner of their world. "I don't care who you give the credit to, I don't care what restrictions you put on this, but if you're going to do this for me, you do this for everyone."
Tom snorted, pulling away from Harry entirely and leaving an uncomfortable chill behind, where their fingers had been locked together. "And if I say no?" he said, tone mocking.
Harry met his eyes, his own gaze steel. "Leave."
Tom stiffened. "Excuse me?" he whispered, and there was murder in his voice, now.
Harry smiled at him, showing too-sharp teeth. "You heard me," he said, his words careful, to be understood around his teeth. "If you want to continue playing the uncaring bastard son of your father, by all means, but leave me out."
"You dare–?" Tom started, fury practically blaring from him.
Harry just widened his smile and motioned with one hand, opening a large doorway behind himself.
Tom disapparated with an angry crack.
Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath as the doorway vanished behind him, trying to ignore the way his heart was bleeding in his chest, weeping for lost chances.
"Harry?" Lily called as the back door opened.
"What the fuck was that?" Sirius demanded, and the lack of chastisement from Lily about the explicative spoke to just how shaken everyone was.
Harry put on a smile that felt all wrong, and opened his eyes to offer it to them. "We had a minor row," he offered, voice light.
A hand caught the end of his shirt, and Harry glanced over to find Chris standing next to him, looking as sad as Harry felt. Harry tugged him into a hug, letting the familiar comfort soothe him as much as it hopefully soothed Chris.
"Minor," James breathed, disbelieving.
"What about?" Sirius asked.
Harry glanced towards where his wand holster rested against his arm, the newer wand stored safely within. "Privilege," he decided, because that was, at its core, the point of the argument.
"Leave it," Lily ordered when Sirius opened his mouth to comment. She came close enough to rub Harry's arm where it was wrapped around Chris, who seemed quite happy to play leech. "Did his idea work?" she asked. "With you being able to power the wand?"
"No," Harry replied, closing his eyes. "I'm sure he'll figure it out in time, but you'll have to continue recharging it for me. If that's okay?" He glanced up at her again.
Lily smiled, and it looked like it hurt as much as the smile Harry was trying to keep on his own face. "Of course, sweetie," she agreed before wrapping her arms around both Harry and Chris. "You know Dad and I are always happy to keep it usable."
Harry closed his eyes and relaxed against her, letting her presence soothe the ache of his chest. Tried not to wonder when the dark lord would get over himself.
"So, there's cake left?" James offered, and it was apparently the exact thing Harry needed to hear, because his smile felt a little easier.
"I could eat more cake," he decided, and James smiled at him in understanding. "Cake?" he asked Chris.
"We have to get Will," Chris pointed out.
"He'd never let any of us live down eating more cake without him," Lily agreed, pulling away so they could head back inside.
"Go find him," Harry suggested, and Chris dashed ahead of them.
Lily touched his shoulder as Sirius and James followed Chris, looking just as excited at the promise of more sweets. "Are you okay?" she asked.
Harry closed his eyes for a moment, trying to find the correct response. "I will be," he decided on in the end, because it seemed the most truthful.
Lily kissed his cheek. "Okay," she offered. "But I'm here."
Harry found himself blinking back tears and turned to offer her a smile that felt too broken, too telling, and yet, entirely honest. "I know," he whispered. "Thanks, Mum."
Lily smiled back at him, then jerked her head towards the door. "Mutiny," she reminded him, and Harry couldn't help but laugh.