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Assistant: Title: How Fate Intended
        Author: hoboheartache hoboheartache 
        Chapter: 22/72 
        Summary: The tattered memory of Tom Riddle sat on the porch of number four Privet Drive, pressing desperately into the horcrux housed in Harry Potter’s forehead.orIn which Harry Potter is unceremoniously thrust back in time and forced to deal with Voldemort whining inside his head. At least Death had the decency to apologize.
        Contents: Chapter 22: Dirty Business is Effective Business
    

    

        
          
          
            Harry Potter takes a deep breath of fresh air as Blaise Zabini gives in to the temptation of mischief.
          
        

      
        
          This chapter has been editedItalics: Thoughts"Italics": Foreign language/emphasisBold: Writing (books, letters, etc...)
      
  

  
  
    
    
  Ichchadhari Naags-India

  A magical breed of cobra that has developed the ability to shape-shift. The Ichchadhari Naag (male) or Ichchadhari Naagin (female), has the intelligence of a 5-year-old human child, and exists in an immortal state for about 100 years before ageing at the rate of a normal cobra. Ichchadhari Nagg and Naagin have a gem called Naagmani (cobra pearl, serpent crystal, snake gem), considered much more valuable than any precious stone. There are thousands of accounts of people dying through snake bites when they try to steal the Naagmani.
 Harry sighed, crossing the Ichchadhari Naags out of his book with a decisive slash of his pencil. He was certain that his creature inheritance didn’t have anything to do with snakes, but it was still interesting to read about all the different breeds of magical snakes across the planet. Surprisingly, there were quite a lot of them, mostly native to areas around the equator where the climate was best suited for them. That particular tidbit made it unlikely that he would be finding anything like the Ichchadhari Naggs or other equally magical snakes anywhere near Britain, though he hadn’t gotten near far enough into the encyclopedia of creatures to know for sure. 
   “~Shape-shifting sounds boring.~”  
Magical snakes aside, Thasin, a perfectly muggle snake, didn’t exactly understand what shape-shifting was, apparently. Or, at least didn’t understand the appeal of it. Harry glanced down at her as she sunned herself on the rocks next to him, the glimmer of a smile spreading across his face as her neon colouring glimmered in the sunlight. “~You wouldn't want to turn into a human?~”  He questioned jokingly, rubbing the crest of her head with his forefinger as he did. “~I couldn’t ever bother with all the things you humans put up with. This whole ‘school’ business sounds much too tedious to me.~”  She remarked matter-of-factly, weaving up his free arm as he set his book down onto the rocks beneath him.She had some very compelling points.Besides the sudden and inexplicable urge to figure out his animagus transformation so he could run off to live in a forest somewhere and never be human again, Harry was feeling very relaxed at the moment. Sure, it was a little too warm out for his liking, and his jumper was a bit itch, but it was nice to sit at the lakeside all by himself, his toes dipped into the chilly water. It was a pleasant day, and a quiet one, and Harry was hardly going to pass up an opportunity to enjoy it despite the less than stellar temperature outside. Besides, the Black Lake was perpetually freezing, and if push came to shove he could just stand up and go wade into the water, and in no time he would have cooled off again. Harry laid back onto the rocks, listening as Thasin slithered off of his arm and onto his chest. It was the third week of the school year, and a Friday to boot. Blaise had been teaching little Victoria White well enough it seemed, and after a good fortnight of complaining to him and Vaisey about the pranks, her dorm mates had eventually given up on whatever they were trying to do to the girl and settled on giving her a wide berth. Little Victoria was vicious, he could tell, and if Vaisey wasn't just as much of a blood-obsessed politically-driven little monster as the rest of them, the two might have even gotten along rather well. Though, Victoria was much more subtle in her demeanour than Vaisey ever tried to be, and tended to come off as shy and gentle until, as he had found over the past two weeks, she got ticked off. Then, it seemed, all bets were off. So it had been a very long two weeks for him, to say the least. He had been surrounded by people almost constantly, with the younger years coming to him every few minutes for help and his friends being almost constant companions throughout it all. He hadn't had the time to sit down and simply contemplate things, too busy dealing with minor skirmishes and his sudden new friendship with the massive personality that was Tracey Davis.But today was different, Draco was off practising quidditch drills with a vengeance in the hopes of trying out for the team next week, and Blaise was off stalking the Weasley twins with Victoria White, his new apprentice-in-crime. Theo had been holed up in the library since breakfast, stuck fast to a new research avenue that he was quickly becoming obsessive over, and Davis was off doing… girl things, he surmised. The first years also seemed to have finally settled down with their various disputes, and the rest of the second years were doing well enough on their own and hadn’t ever come to him about anything important, besides the occasional complaint. This all happening at once had finally left him to his own devices for the first time since he had gotten back to Hogwarts, and how he was idle and lying in wait, trying to figure out how he could spend his time now that it was free. Harry stretched, and sighed, relaxing into the uncomfortable stone rocks beneath him as queries and contemplations swam through his head. As history has proved time and time again, an idle Harry Potter is a dangerous Harry Potter, and the currently potentially dangerous Harry Potter settled uncomfortably deep into the rocks underneath himself, finding his mind wandering to contemplations around the Chamber of Secrets. Which was a rather dangerous thing to do if you had the means to get into the place and the ability to do so. Harry frowned, opening his eyes and gazing up at the cloudless sky. He was still quite cross with Tom, and didn’t want to go submitting himself to potentially forgiving the man in the face of his own stubborn pride. But... Tom did  have a very deep repertoire of knowledge about all things Slytherin, and it  was  all too likely that he knew everything there was to know about the place.Harry sighed deeply, closing his eyes in thought.
   “~Do you think I should do it?~” 

   “~Do what?~” 

   “~...Nevermind.~” 
Harry leaned back, his head thunking onto the large rock underneath him. Sometimes, it felt like he got thoughts in his own mind mixed up with the language of snakes. He found himself quietly hissing it under his breath on occasion, subconsciously muttering in an unlearnable language as he went about the daily activities. It was a miracle that all of his friends were dense enough not to notice, but Harry was certain that it wouldn’t last. He might manage to keep it secret for the next year if he was lucky, but without a drastic shift in his habits, he was practically destined to out himself as a parselmouth before long. “~Whatever it is you want to do, Harry, I think you should do it.~” Thasin suddenly surmised, her bright red head coming into view as she peered down at his face. He looked up at her curiously, contemplating the thought with rising realization.
   “~I don’t want to do it, but I think I might have to.~” 

   “~Then that is what you have to do, Harry.~” 
He closed his eyes again, sighing tiredly. It wasn’t going to be as clean-cut as Thasin tended to expect things to go, but she was right in saying that he needed to get a move on and get over things. Tom may be a bit of a b@st@rd, but at least he told Harry about the diary eventually. Other people never would have bothered before it was already too late, so maybe Tom’s admission had to count for something. Besides, it had all happened almost a decade ago, and Harry hadn’t really  needed to know that the diary was a non-issue until this year anyway. So, technically speaking, Tom was less of a b@st@rd than Albus Dumbledore tended to be, which had to say something about his character.Sighing, Harry let his muscles relax, and with a deep breath, reconnected the gap between his and Tom’s minds.Almost immediately, he was bombarded with a booming, worried voice.
   Harry! Thank Merlin-listen, I'm so sorry for not telling you before-! 
Harry groaned, throwing an arm over his face as he bit back a ruder remark than what eventually stumbled out of his subconscious.
   Save it, Riddle. I’m still cross. 
It was quiet for a moment, and Harry almost thought Tom was sulking or something equally childish, before the man suddenly spoke again.
   And how may I ease your anger? 
Typical.Harry nodded to himself, nearly grinning at the Tom-ness of the man’s words. It seemed that, even after an entire summer of silence between the two of them, Tom never really changed in his methods. Oddly enough, the lack of development was comforting, if aggravating. Just give me some time to be angry, Riddle. You kept that secret from me for nearly a decade, you know, and that isn’t something I can easily forgive. In fact, I believe that I have every right to be p@ss@d off.  He considered things for a moment, before continuing.  I do need you to tell me everything you know about the Chamber of Secrets though, so if you want to earn my forgiveness faster than usual, that would be a good way to go about it. There was a pause, before an unsatisfied hum.  You’ll have to come in here. I can't properly teach without you in front of me, you know. Harry rolled his eyes, tempted to call Tom on the blatant rubbish—since Harry not being inside his mindscape while Tom taught him had never been an issue before—but nonetheless closed his eyes and began to meditate. A familiar feeling of calm washed over him, and as if falling down a well, Harry easily slipped into his mindscape. He hadn't been there in a long time, a year it had to be, so when he opened his eyes in the girls' lavatory, the look of surprise on Tom’s face was understandable. They looked at each other, Tom still half-inside the staircase coming out of the sink, and Harry standing in the doorway, just barely on the cusp between his mind and Tom’s.“You’ve gotten taller, Leech.”“Yeah? Well, you’ve gotten uglier. I guess we all change over time.”Tom looked like his 16-year-old self, but a bit taller and filled out in comparison, so it seemed likely that his soul was emulating the appearance he had when he was in his late 20’s, at the oldest. And, really, that age was quite attractive on him, all things considered, but Harry was still understandably ticked off, and couldn't think up a better insult to combat Tom’s slip-shod attempt at a compliment.Tom, gracefully ignoring the jab, waved him over to the stairs silently. Harry followed the man inside, listening to the clicking of their shoes as the stairs brought them down to a long hallway, empty of anything besides a massive circular door on the far wall. Tom led him towards the familiar door and into the chamber that was his mind, silently bringing Harry through the shelves of his memories and knowledge and over to the plush chairs of a reading nook, all the while staying completely silent. Harry felt half-convinced that Tom had been going insane with loneliness, likely from ignoring Harry for a year and then Harry ignoring him  for three months.They settled down across from each other, and Harry leaned back into the plush couch cushions as Tom’s shoulders slowly relaxed. Yes, he was definitely lonely. Harry felt a twinge of guilt attempting to claw its way out of his subconscious before he kicked it back into the darkness and set his jaw firmly, refusing to waver from his frustration. No matter if Tom was lonely or going mad, it didn’t excuse anything that he had done.“I must admit... I don't know as much about the Chamber of Secrets as I would like.” Tom finally spoke, beginning a small lecture as he summoned a tray of tea and started to make Harry a cuppa. “I am aware of a large chamber preceding directly after the main one, but the basilisk refused to grant me passage into it every time that I requested. He said that I was… unworthy.” Tom sniffed, apparently still insulted by the memory. Sipping his tea, Harry waited for him to continue. When he didn't, Harry couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.“That's it? That's all you know?'' He questioned, face scrunched up in a mix of surprise and astonishment. He was rather impressed with Tom’s lack of knowledge. It wasn't often that the man didn't  know everything there was to know about a certain topic.Tom, however, seemed rather upset about the entire thing, and sank into the folds of his seat. “I know more than most, Harry. There are very few magical people who even remember the legend anymore.”Harry cautiously nodded his head, acknowledging that that was the most likely explanation. The only reason he had known anything about it in his first life was because of Professor Binns, who was himself a ghost, and barely even knew much about it to begin with. Harry sincerely doubted that anyone beyond Tom and him was aware of the chamber truly, definitively existing, which said a great deal about how truly legendary it was. It had been almost completely lost to myth, reduced to a mere rumour passed around the backs of Slytherins as they weaved through history. Parselmouths were rare after all, and it was doubtful that very many who believed in the chamber had the ability to even find the blasted place, let alone open it.“Harry.” He glanced up, watching passively as Tom set down his cup and saucer and donned a remorseful look. Harry raised an eyebrow, realizing with minor unease that this was about to careen off course into an emotional conversation. Tom looked insistent however, so he set his cup down with a small sigh.“Harry, I didn't get the chance to explain myself in July, and I feel that might help you feel less angry at me.” Tom pleaded, looking very much like a kicked puppy. Harry hummed, noncommittal, as he saw through the effort easily. After all, manipulation was Tom’s game, and it was difficult for Harry to buy into it anymore.Despite this though, he merely raised an eyebrow, silently motioning for the man to get on with it. “Continue.”“It had been a complete accident-”“B@llsh@t.”Tom narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue, disapproval hanging off the edge of his nose. Harry glared testingly at him in response, the two of them falling into a staring contest before Tom started up again.“I hadn't expected it to work.”“If you're going to lie, at least try to make it believable, Riddle.”“Blast it, child!” Tom slammed both hands onto the table, causing Harry to jolt to attention as the suddenly furious man leapt up and began to pace. “You-you could not even begin  to comprehend the amount of things I do for you. I am an adult!  I am allowed to make my own bl@@dy  decisions! However, if not telling you about those decisions bothers you, then I offer you my most sincere  apologies. But-but! If I do not believe that you have any need to know what I am doing, then as the adult in this body I have the  right not to tell you!” Harry sat on the couch, watching with a calculating gaze as Tom took a harsh moment to come down from the outburst. He realized, quite suddenly, that Tom wasn't angry because Harry called him on his manipulations; Tom was angry that Harry had locked him away and refused to talk to him. He was angry that Harry demanded to know everything about his plans, even if his involvement would jeopardize them. Harry came to an even more sudden realization before Tom did, and felt a wave of panic surge through him. He jolted to his feet as well, jittery and unsure as the thought came tumbling from his mouth before he could stop it.“For someone who claims to hate family, you sure like to act an awful lot like you’re my father.”The older man froze, utterly still. Harry didn’t even breathe, eyes wide and arms shaking as Tom’s eyes slowly turned to lock onto his own.Fear.With a lurch, Harry flew backwards, and in an instant he felt himself get forced out of his meditation, an unseen force practically shoving  him out of Tom's mindscape and into the waking world. Harry shot up into a sitting position, wide eyes gazing out to the gentle waves of the Black Lake.He sat, completely still for several moments, before the sudden thought came to him again.
   Tom? 
There was no reply, and with a soundless refusal more akin to a bullet shot, Harry felt the door between their minds slowly swing shut, echoing with a resounding bang as he was left alone with Thasin at his side and the cold water of the Black Lake licking at his toes.Blaise Zabini had yet to read the book he had stolen from his family's library, and the blasted thing was starting to get rather upset about it.He wanted to, genuinely, but a feeling of mild apprehension around the idea was keeping him back. The book felt dangerous, pulsing with mischievous magic very unlike his own that did well to both unsettle and entrance him at the same time. It called to him in a way that made it seem almost alive, a thought driven home once it started to move.Really, he should have considered the likelihood of it being cursed weeks ago.It had all started the night before he went off to Hogwarts, where he had found that the monstrous little book had managed to end up on his bedside table when he had locked it into his trunk while packing the night before, wanting to eventually get to it at Hogwarts. Blaise hadn’t thought much of it at first, believing that he had just imagined putting it in his trunk the night prior, but it just kept happening!  Nothing could have prepared him over the summer for potentially wishing that he had a band of thick rope that he might tie the annoying little b@gg@r up in, if only so he could have the peace of mind to know where the hell it was at any given moment. But no, things could never be that easy. Honestly, Blaise had to admit that it was a  little  fun playing a bizarro version of hide-and-seek with the stupid little thing. However, he got fed up with it all rather quickly when he was woken up the night before quidditch tryouts by a deep, amused laugh in his ear. Jolting up in bed, Blaise swung his head around furiously, eyes wide with shock. Had Professor Snape come into the dorm for some reason? Had Flint found the bag of exploding jacks Blaise had snuck under his and was coming to kill him in the night? Blaise immediately scrambled up to the bed frame, his back hitting the blackened wood as his hand came down on a hard object on his pillow. Jolting, Blaise jerked his head downwards, finding that the little green book was lying innocently on his pillow next to him.Either Harry was playing a sh@tty prank on him, or the book had managed to get out of his warded trunk and onto his pillow at some point in the night, and had then proceeded to laugh at him.Blaise wasn't scared with the thought in any capacity, though he was quite annoyed. If the book was that insistent on being read, it was clear that he wouldn't be getting any sleep till he gave in and read the stupid thing. Snatching it off of his pillow with a huff, he grabbed for his wand on the table beside him and tightened the curtains around his bed. Fine then, he would read the blasted thing for a few minutes, and then get the hell back to bed. Whispering a ‘lumos’ under his breath, Blaise settled comfortably onto his bed and opened the book to the first page. It was all in old Norse.
   Bl@@dy buggering-what the f@ck? 
The incomprehensible letters started shifting around, rearranging into what he eventually realized was English as Blaise watched with growing fascination. It took only a moment for the letters to be settled, and just like that the first page and potentially the rest of the book was all translated perfectly into modern English. Blaise sat there, utterly shocked for a moment, before eagerly beginning to read. 
  Loki and his Worship

  For as long as there were gods there were also worshipers. Gods exist without worship but worship does not exist without gods. Each god has been found to require a specific type of worship from their followers. Thor enjoys the boom of thunder. Hel demands the sacrifice of life. Týr thirsts for acts of war. Sif commands an even blade. Frigg requests a steady hand.

  All gods demand something different from their followers, but they all agree that they will expect a pledge as well. The first step of any worship is the execution of your god’s will, but the second is always a three-step pledge to their very being.

  Loki requests amusing tricks. He finds pleasure in the poor luck of others. The first step in becoming a worshiper of Loki is first appeasing his simple request. If chaos can not be wrought, then he shall never be appeased. That is but the simple truth of mischief and its various forms.
 Blaise was practically  vibrating  with excitement. The first page alone had  so much  for him to pick apart, it was almost too good to be true! He grinned devilishly, turning the page to find more English looking out at him from worn pages. His great-great-grandfather had indeed been right, Loki wasn’t in the least bit a respectable god to worship, but Blaise wasn't a respectable person, and this sounded like an utter riot.And so, without even considering what the book’s intentions towards him might be, Blaise continued to read late into the night.It was the very next morning before long, and mere hours away was the start of Slytherin’s quidditch tryouts when Harry sat down at breakfast. The second class of Defense Against the Dark Arts had happened just the day before, during the morning classes, and had somehow been even more horrible than the first. Unsurprisingly, some of the Slytherin girls were becoming disillusioned with Lockhart, which did nothing for Davis’ slowly swelling ego as she was welcomed back into their fray.“I  told you Daphne, that man is a clown.” Davis admonished, punctuating her scolding with bites from an apple. Greengrass rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed with the other girl’s gloating but seemingly incapable of doing anything about it. Harry was impressed by her ability to grin and bear it, even if her pride must be quite damaged from the whole ordeal.“You don't know that Davis, maybe he was just nervous about his first few lessons. You can't blame him for being nervous!” Parkinson screeched, seeming much less convinced. Harry yawned, wondering if she believed Lockhart was a god among men or something. It certainly felt that way at times.Harry took a bite of his omelette, only half listening as the conversation droned on. Peering to his left, his eyes narrowed as his gaze landed on Draco. The shorter boy wasn’t eating anything, deciding to quietly mumble quidditch plays under his breath instead. Harry subtly placed a piece of buttered toast on his plate.“-and you are aware that Warrington will throw you through a wall if he catches you, right? Didn’t you just barely get away with pranking Flint yesterday?” Theo was currently trying to convince Blaise to not prank the older boys dorm, but the threat of bodily harm didn't seem to deter him any less.“So if he doesn't catch me-?” Harry scooped some eggs onto Draco’s plate along with the toast, before reaching for his tea and downing it in one gulp.“You're blind if you think that man can do anything except style his hair, Parkinson.” Davis hissed, halfway standing up and pink in the face as her temper revealed itself.“I feel like you should have better preservation skills than this, mate.” He managed to sneak a few slices of bacon onto the plate as well. Draco had started to nibble on his toast.“Honestly Davis, you couldn't spot talent if it slapped you in the face-!” The aforementioned girl lunged across the table and proceeded to slap Parkinson straight across the face, either trying to prove a point or just feeling awfully p@ss@d.Harry sighed, wearily looking around him as he placed a sliced and grilled tomato onto Draco’s full plate. The Slytherin table was almost as rowdy as the Gryffindor one today, with even the older years shouting about the quidditch tryouts taking place mere hours later. It was a horrible environment for someone that was already stressed. Making a quick decision, he swiftly picked himself off the bench, grabbing Draco’s plate and then Draco himself before gently leading the shorter boy out of the great hall.He walked them out and down to the Black Lake, quietly explaining where they were going and why as they went. Draco didn't seem to even notice that he wasn't in the great hall anymore, just following along as he continued to mutter quidditch plays and seeker-specific manoeuvres under his breath. After manoeuvring them both down to the rocky shore himself, Harry deftly handed Draco his plate and settled down on a larger rock, sitting quietly and occasionally skipping a rock or two as the other boy ate.Harry knew he didn’t want to do quidditch, at least not while in the same house as Draco. He didn’t feel very into it anymore anyway, having gotten his fill of the sport during his first life. It had also become rather evident rather quickly just how much Draco adored quidditch and, most importantly, loved being seeker. Harry didn’t want to take that away from him, and had realized anyway that his physique didn’t really match the general seeker build anymore, which meant he might end up as a chaser instead, a thought that seemed rather unpleasant to him.“Thanks, Harry.” Draco had finished his food it seemed, placing the empty plate on a flat-ish rock before turning to stare out into the water.“You've got to relax mate. You're the best seeker in this entire school and Flint knows it.” He whispered, nudging the shorter boy with his shoulder slightly as he did. Draco smirked a little at that, the typical Malfoy pompousness starting to slowly sneak back to the surface. “You haven't a thing to worry about.”“Of course I don’t, I’m the best seeker in this school after all.” The blond boy replied, a little grin slowly painting his face as he nudged Harry right back. 
   There he is. 
The two boys sat quietly on the shore, not knowing—because really, how could they—that the spot in which they sat would one day become their personal escape. That one day they would skip rocks across the lake and talk about the future,  their  future. That one day, they would bring a picnic down and relax in each other's company for hours on end, chattering on about the beginning of life after school, when the world opened up to them and all they had to do was live. That one day, late at night and far past curfew, they would sit out there and, after watching the stars for hours on end, they would kiss each other, tender and loving, right there on the rocky shore of the Black Lake. That one day, that little jut of rocks and water would become synonymous with them, with their life. But that was far off in the distance, and with the two of them sitting there now, baby-cheeked and giggling, they were better off not knowing. Sometimes, the future has to be placed in the caring hands of Fate, and that is where it must stay until the future intercepts the present, and suddenly becomes the past.But not yet, not for some time yet.It was a good day for quidditch tryouts, all things considered. The three boys that weren't trying out, as well as Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass, all made their way down to the quidditch pitch as Draco ran back to the dorm to change. Walking up the rickety steps to the benches, hands gripped onto the supports with a distrustful feeling that everything was about to collapse, Harry lectured Greengrass on the most recent house politics.“At the moment, Lord Parkinson holds substantial weight in quidditch stocks, and will likely offer to buy the team new nimbus two thousand and one’s if it means his daughter would be in favour with Flint, which would then give her popularity among the older years, which is  very  important when it comes to running for king or queen. I can secure your appointment as princess next year, sure, but everything past that is none of my business. I can, however, recommend fighting fire with fire and having your father fund a popular club or something similar. Though it will be hard to best quidditch in that department, so try to hit Flint directly instead. Maybe offer to have your father discuss business propositions with his mother? I know Lady Flint is currently in charge of the estate, so perhaps you should just write to her and make nice.” Harry had heard a similar rant many times from Tom over the years, and found it uncomfortably easy to spin his own web of complex favours and promises now that he was well and truly in the thick of it. Politics were a lot of pandering to your supporters after all; you can’t get by for long without buying up the lot of them. Harry himself planned to supply the team with firebolts next year to assure himself Flint’s support, and inadvertently support Draco’s flying ability as well.Greengrass huffed, clearly against the idea. “It just seems so dirty!”Harry rolled his eyes, gripping tighter to the nearest support as the entire structure swayed testingly. “Politics are a dirty business, Greengrass. The sooner you learn that the better.”The group had finally reached the top of the rickety stairs, and with near-unanimous sighs of relief, all quickly settled down in the nearest row of seats. Harry took a moment to breathe a breath of air, itching at his sleeves as the dry air started to bother him. It felt like the temperature had skyrocketed in the few minutes it took for them to get all the way up, and in comparison to how he had felt on the ground, his decision to wear a long-sleeved jumper was seeming quite shortsighted.Rolling them up to his elbows, though not without a bit of mental grumbling, Harry settled himself and began to glance around the group, looking for something to take his mind off of the heat as they waited for the tryouts to start. No one seemed to be doing much out of the ordinary though, with Blaise lounging about as he rather pitifully attempted to flirt with Davis, again. Davis, to her credit, still seemed extremely unimpressed with the entire situation, and seemed to be using the spare time they had to practice the shrinking charm on Blaise’s knapsack. Theo, loyally, was reading a book, and a rather massive one at that. Harry squinted at the cover, trying to make out the title. It looked like something or other about Norse mythology, though he really couldn’t be very sure. Harry shook his head at the thought, quickly discarding it as he turned back to Greengrass, who appeared to be rearing up for a rant.“Well, what do you expect me to do, Potter?” She chastised, her tone laced with either frustration or spite. “Do you think my father would ever willingly pay a bunch of… of  school children  an exorbitant amount of money for the sake of house politics or something equally absurd? If you can’t tell, Potter, my father has better things to do than something so-so elementary!”Tapping out a tune on the old wood underneath him, Harry shrugged his shoulders. “Ask your mother? It isn't my problem, Greengrass. Either way, you'll be princess next year, and my side of the deal will be done. Nowhere in our agreement did it say I had to make sure you were popular with the older years, just that you got the spot.”“But you said that-”“That I would help you beat out Parkinson for next year’s spot in return for a favour, correct. I am so  very  glad we are both aware of the terms of our agreement.” He interrupted, rolling his eyes as he settled further back into the rickety bench, ignoring the vexed look he received from her as she seethed. “Pleasure doing business with you.”Greengrass was sharp as a wick, placing in the top ten for their year without much trouble, and seemed to embody traits that would make her into a steady leader who could easily keep the house on a solid path. Leaders, however, didn’t always make for good politicians, and Harry was positive that she wasn't in the slightest bit a politician. Which, really, wasn’t a terribly bad thing, all things considered. Her family is very business savvy, and business-savvy people don’t have to be particularly adept in political spheres to make it big with other businesses, so it was hardly going to stop her from flourishing in the long run. Harry held back a grimace, still feeling the girl’s gaze burning a hole into the side of his head. Despite how ill-suited she seemed to be for politics, she certainly had quite the stellar stink-eye. He tried to wait her out for a few minutes, but when it became obvious that she would be spending the rest of the time there stewing in her anger and glaring a hole into the side of his head, he quickly came up with an excuse to get away from her, escaping away towards the ever-quiet Theo in an attempt to find better company.Plopping down on the bench next to Theo, he watched as the brunet made a show of sighing very deeply in annoyance, before placing a worn bookmark into the page he had been reading and delicately setting it aside. Harry grinned, before reaching around and snatching the book right off the bench, holding it away from Theo’s grabbing hands as he read the title.“Give it here, Potter.”“Just a moment, Nott.” Harry murmured, skimming through the book delicately before reading the title a second time. “I didn't know you were researching Norse mythology, mate. Is this a new interest of yours?” He turned to look at Theo, who snatched the book back in a blur of movement, protectively cradling it to his chest as he glared angrily at Harry. Harry held back the urge to roll his eyes, deciding instead to glance towards the quidditch pitch to see if there was anyone down there. He slouched back, unsatisfied, when the massive space continued to be empty.“It’s Norse gods specifically, if you must know.” Theo remarked scathingly, practically disappearing behind the large book as he sank into a slouch. Harry raised an eyebrow, somewhat curious about the strange topic.“Why would you gain an interest in Norse gods of all things?”Just as he spoke, Blaise seemed to choke on his own saliva, falling into a coughing fit that impressed Davis even less than his flirting abilities. Harry glanced at the boy with a raised eyebrow, before shrugging it off. Theo took a large breath, likely preparing to directly recount exactly what he had read from the book in his arms. Sure enough, the words that he spewed from his mouth were nearly unintelligible, and seemed to be relayed all in one breath.“I'm curious about the religious practices of the Germanic people that persisted through the period that the Norse gods were at their peak. Sadly, most of the direct resources that documented specific ritualistic practices have been lost to time, and historians believe that the vast majority of them were destroyed with the Library of Alexandria as it burned, since by that point the Roman Empire had conquered many of the Germanic tribes who practiced the rituals and had stolen many of their priceless scriptures. It is hypothesized that either the documents had indeed burned, or a wealthy Roman family stole many of them away, which would place their current location around Italy. I have been trying to figure out where this family might be located, as figuring that out might lead to not just the ritualistic scriptures, but many other priceless scrolls from Alexandria as well.”Theo sucked in a large breath, “now f@ck off.” With a sharp look, the boy turned and reopened his book as if none of it had even happened. Harry blinked, slightly taken aback, before shaking his head in exasperation and scooting away from Theo again, leaving him to the research that he seemed insistent on engrossing himself in.  Honestly, if Theo wasn't so d@mn ambitious in his search for knowledge, he would have gone right to Ravenclaw. No, maybe he would have ended up here anyway. Granger embodied Ravenclaw to the letter and still managed to wrangle herself into Gryffindor after all. He thought to himself, mentally grumbling as he slouched into the hard bench underneath him.It was quiet after that, as Harry sank halfway into meditation and the people around him either sulked, read, or spoke quietly amongst themselves. Harry himself was poking and prodding at the door between his and Tom’s minds, knocking occasionally as he tried to find a way in. Nearly half an hour went by like this, until he simply stared at the massive door, guilt eating away at his conscious mind. It hadn’t been his fault Tom had locked himself away, but it certainly felt like it when the man was making such a fuss about what had been said. Sure, it was a difficult thing for Harry to consider as well, but he wasn’t going to go running away from the conversation like Tom was.“Coward.” He muttered at the door, kicking at it with the toe of his shoe. There was no reply.Typical.Harry sat back and groaned, before gritting his teeth and scrambling up onto his feet, taking off towards the stairs as faint voices carried down them from his own mind. There seemed to be something going on, either in the group or out on the pitch. Racing up the stairs, he skipped two at a time, coming upon the interior of the girl’s lavatory with surprising speed. He didn’t take the time to look around though, quickly darting out of the bridge between the two minds inside his body and out into the waking world.Harry blinked his eyes open, straightening from the slouch he had been resting in as Blaise’s face came into view. “Morning princess, did you have a good nap? It looks like they’re finally coming out.”Harry swatted the other boy’s away, leaning forwards as he peered down to the grass below. Just on time, it seemed, as his eyes immediately fell on the Slytherin quidditch team as they all flew up into the air, soaring around the pitch as the hopefuls lined up in a straight line along the grass. Flint was shouting out orders of some nature, pointing this way and that as the hopefuls manoeuvred to his commands. Harry leaned forward slightly, trying to hear what was being said, but eventually gave up once he realized they were way too high up to hear much of anything. Was this what it was like to be in the stands for a change? No wonder referees and announcers used microphones or the sonorous charm during actual games, the watchers would never be able to hear anything otherwise.He sat back more comfortably on the bench, and with one last indiscernible word from Flint, the hopefuls all got on their brooms and rocketed up into the air. Harry picked out Draco immediately, his natural grace in the air and light hair making himself easy to distinguish among the less elegant and darker-toned flyers. He could easily tell just from his years of flying against the boy that Draco was the best out of everyone there by a long shot, though he didn’t seem nearly as refined as he had been the last time they played against each other. Of course, the comparison wasn’t really fair considering the nearly seven-year difference in time, but that was hardly the point. In the end, Harry had kept all of his flying ability from the last timeline, so even if Draco shouldn’t be compared to the Draco from the first timeline, he would have to be compared to Harry himself if he had decided to go ahead and try out. Lucky for Draco though, Harry didn't have the time or energy to play quidditch, what with everything else he was planning for the year. Harry  had  been concerned about what he would do for exercise at first, but now had a vague idea for it after a bit of contemplation. It had started out as a personal joke, but Harry could confidently say that he had been entertaining the idea of sneaking into the Forbidden Forest and asking the centaurs to teach him archery because, honestly, he’ll never escape that place no matter how hard he tried, so what was the point of bothering anymore? Bane seemed to think he was interesting enough the last time they met, so maybe he would be willing to take Harry up on the request? It was certainly worth the ask, if he could find an appropriate bow that suited him.The rest of the tryouts passed surprisingly quickly, and Harry spent most of the time watching Draco swoop through the air, occasionally perking up when the blond managed to find a snitch or do a particularly difficult manoeuvre. He had never really realized it in the last timeline, too focused on other things, but Draco looked like he  belonged  in the air. It was less of him being a natural and more that it sometimes felt like he didn’t even need the broom to fly, swooping and diving as if it were only there for support. Watching Draco fly was breathtaking, so when the tryouts ended and Draco was unsurprisingly chosen as seeker, Harry was only disappointed that it had ended.Despite this, the excitement he felt for Draco won out over the disappointment almost immediately, and he quickly led the group back down the rickety steps to congratulate him, filing out into the field just as Draco turned away from discussing something with Flint—likely something about practice times.“Cheers mate, I told you so.” Was the first thing Harry got off, smiling as he messed up Draco's hair, much to the other boy's chagrin. However, as the others neared and began giving him their congratulations, Harry turned away from the group and sought out the gaze of Marcus Flint, motioning with his head for the older boy to step off to the side with him. They moved a few yards away from the crowd silently, Flint already having a pinched expression on his face. Harry tried to stay as unreadable as possible, knowing that the quicker he got this over with the better. It was obvious that Flint tolerated him at best, and in the end, it was probably best if he worked to develop a professional but distant relationship with the man instead of anything even remotely pleasant. As long as he contributed to the cause and Flint left him alone with his title and influence, then Harry would consider it a worthwhile experience.“What is it, Potter?” Flint hissed quietly as he leaned onto his broom, glaring downwards at him with barely concealed distaste. Harry didn’t even flinch, merely raising an eyebrow as the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. That was better than he had been expecting. Maybe they could work something pleasant out after all.“You know that inventor, Randolph Spudmore? The one that's supposedly making a new broom meant to blow the nimbus out of the sky?” Harry questioned, rocking back onto his heels casually as Flint’s eyebrows rose, the man suddenly looking much more interested in the conversation. Harry bit back a grin.“What of ‘im?”“Well…” he began, leaving the edge out of his voice as he continued to rock back and forth. “Draco and I are mates, as you know, so if he got the position I was thinking of buying the team a few of Spudmore’s new brooms when they came out, if they're really as good as he claims that is.” Harry knew it was a bit like cheating, since he was intimately aware of just how good the Firebolt was, and didn’t consider the offer a gamble in the slightest. Flint, however, didn’t know a d@mn thing about how incredible the Firebolt was going to be, and probably thought Harry was either out of his mind or knew something everyone else didn’t, considering that the broom was currently sitting quite comfortably in the planning phases. Which was, well, true, but there wasn’t really any way for Flint to know one way or the other.“Well, if they are that good, I'm sure the team would appreciate your generosity.” Flint finally bit out, looking like he didn’t know if he should be grateful for the potential new brooms, or p@ss@d that a kid four years his junior was offering to buy them.Harry nodded, and turned back to his friends, satisfied with the perceived gamble. He had millions of galleons tucked away in his gift vault after all, and felt like it would be extremely necessary to get some of that overhead out of his mind so he could stop trying to figure out just what he could do with all of it. Stopping short, Harry found Greengrass staring at him, the look on her face insinuating that she had been watching the entire exchange from a distance. “Dirty business.” She mouthed at him, a self-respecting look smeared across her cheeks. “Effective business.”  He mouthed right back, breaking the eye contact immediately as Flint stormed past him, an irritated look on his face. Harry watched the quidditch captain storm away for a moment, contemplative, before he let out a tired breath and put the conversation behind him. Hopefully, he would eventually get to the point that other people would pander to  him, not the other way around.'
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