With Patronus practice taking up so much of his time lately. Tom hadn’t had a chance to enforce his control over certain… folks who felt brave enough to start an uprising.
Certain others had begun to get a little to sure of themselves recently and Tom had let it slide because he was curious as to what they would try.
Tom wasn’t threatened. In fact, the only people in his life that he could honestly say threatened him, were Dumbledore and Professor Potter. Anyone else would be easy to overcome simply because he was better at magic and manipulation.
So of course, there was always that one who got bored with complacency.
Tom smirked at the small gathering the other had managed to scrounge together. However, the rest of the students in the Common Room simply watched on, their eyes full of knowing.
“Hello, Eldrid,” the Slytherin leader purred. He was immensely pleased to see the few shivers of the others with said student. They weren’t not brave and were barely standing against him.
“It’s time to teach you a lesson, Mudblood.”
Honestly, some of the Pureblood aristocrats were idiots. Of course this was what made them easy to manipulate and use for his own means, but having to deal with it so often was becoming tiring.
“And how do you plan to do that?”
Avery smirked, obviously thinking that he had all the answers.
Avery’s answer was cut off when the teen was suddenly dangling in the air, clutching at his throat as he struggled to breath.
Tom had been perfecting this particular maneuver for weeks. It was nice to know that he’d managed to get it right.
Avery’s comrades backed away, realising that they were on the wrong side.
Avery’s body descended swiftly, knocking into the three other boys he’d managed to gather to confront Tom.
“That looked like it hurt,” said Tom casually. “Perhaps you should pay more attention to where you are walking, Avery.”
“Indeed,” an unexpected voice rang out, causing the whole of Slytherin to freeze and turn to the entrance of their Common Room. Professor Potter stood there, looking unconcerned despite what had just occurred.
The young man was looking at Avery, who was laying on top of his three goons. “Perhaps you’ll learn where you’re going eventually. Also, the smart thing is not do this where anyone can walk in if they have the password.”
Tom’s heartbeat accelerated when the man sent him a very telling look.
“Let’s endeavour to not get caught so easily next time,” the man said quietly, before turning and sauntering from the room without anything more to say.
Taking that as permission to do as he pleased in the future, Tom turned to his Housemates and said, “Professor Potter has made it abundantly aware that he knows what is going on in this school. He didn’t specify exactly what, but I would suggest keeping your wits about you just in case. And unlike our dear friend Avery, don’t get caught.”
Tom took his leave then. He had some meditation to work on.
Where Harry doesn’t realize that no one (aside from some teachers that audibly groan) understands his Sirius jokes.
(I was picturing something like:
McGonagall to a first year Harry Potter after some stupid action: are you serious mister Potter?
Harry: well no, that’s my godfather.
McGonagall: (internally facepalms) oh Merlin, not again!
Sirius on his house feels randomly fine: my legacy has been stablished.
All the other students: (?))
7. We are not allowed to go to class in our pajamas and we are definitely not allowed to go to class in someone else’s pajamas!
“Mister Potter, Mister Black. What do you think you are
“We’re coming to class, Professor,” James answered confused,
“It is time for class, isn’t it?”
“Don’t sass me, Potter,” Minerva McGonagall replied sternly,
casting a sharp glance in his direction, “What I mean to ask is what do you
think you are wearing?”
“These are our robes, Professor,” Sirius spoke slowly.
McGonagall shot him a look, wondering how much trouble
should would get into with the school board if she slapped a student, “I’m
referring to what’s beneath your robes.”
“Oh, you mean this?”
Both Sirius and James opened their robes to reveal their
James was wearing a white tee shirt with mud brown
sweatpants with the Puddlemere United logo splashed across the thigh.
Similarly, Sirius was wearing bright red pajama bottoms with
little snitches stitched into fabric and a black tank.
“We were running behind this morning,” James started to
“And we didn’t want to be late for our favorite class,”
“So, we quickly threw on our robes and rushed out the door,”
“And ran all the way here,” Sirius finished.
Minerva took a deep breath, “Class doesn’t start for another
“We didn’t want to risk it,” Sirius spoke solemnly.
“We know how much you hate it when students are tardy,”
James added knowingly.
“Potter, Black,” Minerva spoke sharply, “You had plenty of
time to change your clothes before coming to class. Please return to your dormitories
and switch into your uniforms. I must ask you not to show up to class in your
pajamas again. Am I understood?”
“Yes Professor,” the boys answered in unison.
“I’m taking off ten points from Gryffindor for your
disregard for wearing the correct clothes, and another fifteen for sassing me.
I expect you back in my classroom in twenty minutes, or you will each receive a
“Yes ma’am,” they answered again, each giving her a salute
before turning and rushing out of the classroom, their open black robes
flapping behind them.
Minerva closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, trying to
prepare herself for what was sure to be a long day.
“Thank you Miss Merryweather, if you could put that over in
the – what on earth are you wearing?”
The students in the classroom turned to the back of the room
to watch the two late comers burst through the classroom doors.
“We’re so sorry, Professor,” James huffed, “our alarm didn’t
go off this morning.”
“We came as quickly as we could,” Sirius added.
“In that?” she
asked flabbergasted, her eyes unable to tear away from the sight before her.
The students around the room started snickering quietly to
themselves, whispering as they examined the boy’s attire for that day as well.
James was wearing bright blue footie pajamas, with little
white moons and yellow stars spread throughout the fabric.
Sirius was wearing a tight olive green shirt with a yellow
smiling rubber ducky that showed three inches of his stomach, and even tighter matching
green pajama pants that was at least six inches too short on his legs and
obscenely tight in awkward areas. His outfit was finished off with a pair of
hot pink bunny slippers.
“Did we not just have this discussion last week?” she inquired,
her eyebrows raised high.
“Well,” James spoke slowly, “you told us not to wear our
pajamas to class anymore.”
“And what, pray tell, would you call those?” She breathed.
“These are someone else’s pajamas,” Sirius answered.
Minerva blinked twice, her brain stalling for a brief
“Detention,” she finally said, “and five points from
Gryffindor. Each. And it will be far worse if you show up to class in pajamas,
either your own or someone else’s, ever again. Now, for heaven’s sake, go
change into something decent.”
“Yes ma’am,” “Will do Professor,” the boys spoke, turning to
march out the door.
“Quiet,” she barked out to the giggling class, who
immediately silenced at her command.
“Now, where were we?” she asked, mostly to herself, already
ready to put this day behind her.
Tom was silent as his professor dragged him along. He’d been caught, which was something that had never happened before. Sure he’d been blamed for things he hadn’t done, but he’d never been caught for anything he personally had done before. It was a blow to his pride.
Though if anyone were to discover him, he was at least glad that it wasn’t Dumbledore. Professor Potter, Tom could respect. But not Dumbledore.
Potter lead him all the way down to his office on the Third Floor, and shut and locked the door behind them.
“Sit,” the man ordered.
Tom was so very close to not doing it, but then again, it wouldn’t look good on his image.
He sat in the chair before the man’s desk, and very carefully measured the other man’s actions.
Potter waved his wand, and a House Elf appeared suddenly, bowing their head toward the wizard. “Yes, Mr. Harry?”
Potter sighed, looking annoyed, though not exactly at the Elf.
“Mipsy, can you please get us some tea and finger foods. We’ll most likely miss supper.”
Potter asked. He actually used the word ‘please’ when talking to a House Elf. And the Elf’s ears flapping excitedly, as it nodded!
Potter sent him an unreadable look when the Elf Apparated away. “There’s no need for shock. Common decency isn’t that difficult to understand.”
“But they’re Elves, sir. Servants. You don’t need to ask them,” Tom pointed out, not comprehending.
Potter sighed and seated himself then, giving Tom a look that made his young face appear ancient.
“Mr. Riddle, just because they are doing their job - and yes, at Hogwarts it is considered a job and not forced servitude - doesn’t mean that they don’t deserve kindness. To the Blood Purist Elite, you and I don’t deserve common decency because we aren’t Pureblooded. Goblins aren’t allowed common decency because they aren’t human, as Britain’s Ministry decrees. To some Gryffindor Supremacists, you don’t deserve common decency because you are a Slytherin.
“Does this actually mean that you should not be treated kindly and with the respect you deserve as a living being? Simply because to some people, it is the normal belief?”
Tom twitched, wondering how the man knew that Tom wasn’t a Pureblood. Not that it was big news to anyone, still, he was new to the school. Who told him?
And more importantly… the man had a point! Which sort of annoyed him and sort of amazed him.
Professor Potter was very good at shock and awe.
The Elf popped in, placing a large tray on the desk between the two wizards. Almost without notice, Tom actually thanked the creature, and was only made aware of his action when the being actually gaped at him for a moment, before nodding and popping away.
A glance at Potter showed the man smiling into his tea cup.
Tom reached for a sandwich and decided to take a few bites while Potter decided how to handle the situation of catching Tom peeping.
“I take it… that you understand what Dumbledore was talking about?” Potter asked after a moment, thankfully when Tom’s mouth was empty.
“I suppose I could hypothesise,” the teen admitted blandly.
The professor nodded. “We both knew you were there.”
Tom almost choked on his piece of bread!
How did they know?!
“Your magic isn’t very well hidden. You’ll have to learn to disguise your presence. Also, the Headmaster and the Deputy are keyed into the wards and can feel where the students are at all times.”
That revelation was not good. Not good at all.
“At least, those students who aren’t good at disguising themselves,” Potter amended with a smirk. As if he found Tom’s panic humorous. Though Tom wasn’t reacting outwardly, so how the man knew was anyone’s guess.
“Your magic is heavily shaded, if you get my meaning. You’re one of the few people in the castle with such magic, which makes it easier to pinpoint you.”
Great. Bloody fantastic.
“As for my sudden desire to sup with you, it’s more of a desire to impart some advice. My words to Albus are not to be taken lightly, Mr. Riddle. I am very much aware of the actions of everyone here. It’s best that you keep that in mind. Spread it to your acquaintances if necessary.”
The hard look that was sent his way also sent shivers up his spine. But Tom was the personification of Slytherin, and he merely smiled calmly and thanked the man for his ‘advice’.
Whilst I am not under the impression that portraits can lose their eyesight, it’s not the sort of claim I wish to test empirically. The single eyeful was quite enough. Though I’ll concede, Draco, that my curiosity remains. And since Potter is hardly the type to make an ungallant middle-of-the-night exit, I’d wager he’s still between your legs. Am I correct?”
With an embarrassed groan, Harry raised his hand over the back of the sofa and gave a feeble wave.
“Mister Potter. Is the rest of you here as well, or did Draco make do with your hand alone?