lomonaaeren

Chapter Eleven.

Chapter One.

Title: Jonquils and Lightning (12/?)
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, a few one-sided het pairings and canon het pairings
Content Notes: Angst, blood, dubious consent, dimension travel, OC’s
Rating: R
Summary: Harry Potter found peace after the war in another world where a large number of Potters live. He makes his living as an animal healer in Godric’s Hollow, surrounded by family and away from all wars. But his peace shatters with the arrival of a Tom Riddle from another dimension, who seeks a Potter who can be his foretold weapon in his own war.
Author’s Notes: At the moment, I can’t say how long this story will be.

Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Twelve—A Two-Sided Portal

Tom woke with so much pain radiating along his side that for a scrambling, heart-freezing moment, he thought someone had cursed him. He had used the Muscle-Cramping Curse on older Slytherins who had bullied him often enough, once they began to have to acknowledge that he wasn’t a Muggleborn.

But the pain faded, and Tom frowned. For a moment, he closed his eyes, wondering if he could go back to sleep. It had to be around four in the morning.

But behind his eyes, a vision promptly unfolded. It showed the hillside some miles from Godric’s Hollow where he had located the portal to his world. The portal had resembled a faint red circle hanging in the air the last time Tom saw it. Now it was twisting and blinking like an eye, flares of red light shooting out of it.

Tom opened his eyes and shot to his feet, Summoning his wand with a twist of his hand. Now he understood the pain. The portal was connected to his magic, so the pain had acted as a warning of its behavior.

And he couldn’t stand the thought that he would be trapped here just when he had begun to make some real progress with Harry.

He skidded down the stairs, using Silencing Charms to make as little noise as possible. He didn’t know how he would explain the situation to the Potters, which meant long conversations, which meant that he might not reach the portal before it closed.

If that is what is happening. Tom allowed his mind to tick over the idea as he made it out of the house and past the point where Anti-Apparition wards lurked. The portal wasn’t supposed to be able to close until he went back through it with his chosen Potter.

But things could always go wrong, especially with oracles and blood sacrifices that weren’t widely used or understood. Tom spun on his heel the second he could, and Apparated to the hillside.

Closer to the portal, he felt the pressure hanging about it like the air that got pushed in front of a thunderstorm. Tom shielded his eyes from one of the flares of random light and stared at the bloody thing. “What’s wrong with you?” he shouted, of course not expecting an answer.

“Nothing that a good cup of tea wouldn’t cure.”

Tom stumbled back before he could help himself, and looked wide-eyed at the portal. His first thought was that the oracle might have neglected to tell him that the thing was sentient, along with so much else it had kept hidden, his second that asking for a cup of tea was a rather weird request even if the portal was sentient—

And then Dumbledore stepped through the portal and dusted off his robes. Behind him, the portal flared one more time and settled down, fading to the dimness it had assumed after Tom was through it.

You weren’t supposed to be able to do that, Tom thought. You weren’t supposed to be able to come here. He licked his lips and said the only thing he could think of that wouldn’t betray some of his secrets. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a guard of Aurors and Ministry workers, Minister.”

Dumbledore looked over his shoulder and shook his head, although Tom could tell nothing from his neutral expression. “They did not follow me? A shame. I would have liked them to be able to see a new world.” He faced Tom again and smiled, the perfect, shallow smile that he used when reporters tried to demand answers of him he didn’t want to give. “Hello again, Mr. Riddle. What an unexpectedly powerful and talented young man you’ve turned out to be.”

Tom bottled his panic. Dumbledore couldn’t actually have him arrested here. The Potters hadn’t mentioned who their Minister was, but Tom was also sure there would have been a comment from Harry if Dumbledore’s counterpart here was Minister. Tom nodded, instead. “What brings you to this world, Minister?”

“Merely wanting to see what would inspire someone to open a portal with sacrificial blood magic that the Ministry has forbidden for a reason, Mr. Riddle.”

“I doubt you would have tried to bring so many of your entourage through if you were going to reward me, Minister.”

Dumbledore sighed and pulled his glasses off his face to clean them on his dark blue robes. Tom had read in their History of Magic textbook that Dumbledore used to wear eye-watering robes before he became Minister, combinations of colors that made some observers sick to their stomachs, but he always wore somber ones now. And ones lined with silver, Tom noted when Dumbledore shifted and the cuffs and hem of his robes flashed. “Let us not play around, Mr. Riddle, shall we? You knew that you were using illegal magic when you sought out the oracle. You can hardly be surprised that someone followed you.”

Someone betrayed me. Tom didn’t let his smile waver. “And I don’t see how that concerns you, Minister, when the oracles themselves have not been outlawed and the blood used was of an animal sacrifice.”

Dumbledore paused before putting his glasses on. Tom had the impression that he’d truly surprised him. “Animal?” he murmured. “That cannot be, my boy. The oracles only open such portals for human blood.”

Tom managed a smile of true amusement this time, thinking of the price Harry had paid to open his portal. “You don’t know very much about them, sir.”

“Perhaps not, perhaps not. But I am always willing to be educated by members of the public.”

Tom shook his head. Now that he thought about it, Dumbledore’s intrusion was less disastrous than he had assumed, at least for his chances in this world. Dumbledore had the power to have him arrested when he went back home, but here, he was as much a political player as Tom was, no more, and Tom couldn’t see the independent Potters listening to every lie he spoke. “Are you coming with me, sir?”

“I must make sure that you haven’t corrupted others with knowledge of blood magic, Tom.”

Are we going to use first names, then? Very well. “Watch out, Albus. They even know the Unforgivable Curses.”

Dumbledore gave him a sad glance. “If you only knew how much havoc those spells had caused in the past…”

“How can we know that, sir, when you would Obliviate knowledge of our own history from our minds?”

“It is my hope that we can all return to a state of primal innocence, my boy.”

“Then you’d volunteer to undergo a Memory Charm and have your knowledge of the Unforgivables and other spells taken away?”

“There must be some shepherds for the sheep, of course.”

Tom had no idea how much longer their conversation might have continued, had a light not flared in front of them and Harry’s voice said dryly, “Maybe you find it fascinating to have philosophical discussions by moonlight, but I don’t. Tom, are you all right?”

Tom blinked away the afterimages and studied Harry. He was acting in an interesting way. The Lumos Charm on his wand was deliberately overpowered, etching sharp shadows through the night. He was angled towards Tom, and strode over to stand at his side when he finished speaking. From there, he aimed a bright, insincere smile at Dumbledore. Tom reached out to put a hand on his back, and Harry leaned a little to put more emphasis into the touch before pulling away.

“I’m fine,” Tom said. “I felt someone come through the portal and so I left the house and Apparated here.” The noise he made when doing that must have been what Harry heard.

“Mmmm.” Harry studied Dumbledore for a second, and then said, “Sorry, I don’t know why you’re here.”

Dumbledore seemed to pick up on Harry not saying that he didn’t know who Dumbledore was. That got Harry a soft smile and an extended hand. “Minister Albus Dumbledore. Minister of Magic in Tom’s world.”

“Pleasure,” Harry said with utter neutrality as he shook Dumbledore’s hand and turned towards Tom. “I suppose he’s coming with us?”

Tom wanted to lick his lips, but he also didn’t want to give away any sign of his attraction to Harry, body and mind, in front of Dumbledore. “Yes, I think he needs to.” He shot Dumbledore a glance under lowered eyelashes and encountered yet another bland smile.

“I am here to meet the people you’re trying to lure to your side, Tom.”

And not being subtle about it. Tom gave a half-shrug as he faced Harry again. “Then let’s go.”

*

Harry had thought that if he saw a version of someone alive here who had died in his world, it would come as a heart-strangling shock. It was one reason he had never gone searching for anyone outside Godric’s Hollow, and had been grateful to learn that this dimension was mostly full of family members who had never been born in his dimension or who he’d never had a chance to meet. Seeing a James Potter who hadn’t married a Lily Evans would have been hard for him.

But for some reason, he was able to walk placidly beside Dumbledore as he and Tom escorted him back to the village, and even make small talk. It was a bit unnerving.

Especially when Dumbledore kept leaning around Tom to meet Harry’s eyes and give him all manner of smiles, from benign to happy to conspiratorial.

Harry didn’t smile back, only returned the glances and then strode on through the night. He supposed they could have Apparated, but he wanted to take this time to assess Dumbledore, and he also didn’t want to introduce Dumbledore so suddenly into his family’s home.

The man was—

Not the same as his Dumbledore. Of course. Obviously. He didn’t play up the grandfatherly act as much from what Harry could see, and his words definitely weren’t as cryptic, since he talked about the political realities of his home dimension. But he might want to play with people’s lives as much.

The bitterness of the thought startled Harry. He blinked. He had forgiven his version of Dumbledore before he left his first world.

Although maybe there it was easy because that man was dead.

“You look startled, young man. Did something occur to you? And might I know your name?”

Harry turned one of his fake smiles towards Dumbledore. He shouldn’t be putting this much trust in Tom’s word, he supposed. He knew now that Tom was different from Voldemort, and the things he had described Dumbledore doing in their world sounded horrific. But maybe Dumbledore was as harmless as he seemed.

“Harry Potter,” he said, and waited. He didn’t know if a version of him existed in Tom’s world or not, although he didn’t think so. Tom wouldn’t have been so stunned to meet him if he did.

“And you know my name,” Dumbledore said, with a warm smile that made it clear how he’d been elected Minister. “Now. Would you tell me what you looked startled about?”

“I was thinking something about my own former world. Thinking how strange it is to see a face, and have it look familiar, and yet it’s not familiar at all.”

Tom tensed next to him, maybe because he thought Harry was giving away too much to Dumbledore. Harry reached over before he could think better of it and gave Tom’s hand a quick squeeze. Then he went on before Dumbledore could speak. “But it shouldn’t be surprising. Worlds are different because the events in them are different. And that forges people into other versions of themselves.”

“You knew me in your world?”

“I did.”

“And that forms part of your reception of me now?” Dumbledore’s voice was a little quicker now, a little more rhythmic. Harry had no idea why. A bland statement like the one Harry had made shouldn’t provoke him. “I see. Was I the Minister in your world?”

Tom turned to shoot Harry a look. Harry knew he probably thought it wise to keep that information from Dumbledore. But Harry honestly doubted he’d be able to, so he said only, “No, the Headmaster of Hogwarts.”

Dumbledore sighed out softly. “And not someone you trusted or liked? Well, I can only try to prove myself different from him.”

Someone who sent me to my death, even if it was with the best of intentions, Harry thought. His former insight was banging around inside his head now. Yes, it had been easier, far easier, for him to deal with the Albus of his world because he had died before the end of the war. And then Harry had left his own world and had thought he’d never need to deal with his own feelings. If he never saw or spoke with that portrait again, how could they come up?

Here was the living proof that he’d been stupid, marching beside him.

“Did he push you to use Dark magic?” Dumbledore added in a soft voice. He stopped walking and turned to face Harry, clasping his hands behind his back, his face grave. For a moment, the moonlight and Harry’s Lumos Charm lit the silver on Dumbledore’s robe cuffs and hem and made them look as if they were on fire. “That is something I cannot abide. For what an apology is worth coming from someone who only shares that man’s name and face, I am sorry.”

And he’s probably sincere, too, Harry thought. Another reason he was elected Minister, I’m sure.

“He was against me using Dark magic, as a matter of fact.”

“Oh. Then can I ask—why do you look as if a thundercloud has settled on your face when you speak of him?”

Harry wondered what to answer. Tom had stopped walking when Dumbledore did, and now he was so tense he was almost vibrating next to Harry. Harry brushed his hand quickly again. Dumbledore frowned at him.

“He wanted me to march to my death,” Harry said at last. He had no intention of getting into the details of the Horcruxes unless he had to, but he wasn’t as against it as he would have been a few days ago. Dorea and Tom had reacted so much better to that revelation than he’d ever thought anyone would.

Dumbledore’s eyes widened. “That—that is strange. I cannot imagine why I would do that.”

“Well, as you said, you’re not the same man, only a version of the one I knew,” Harry said, and bestowed a kindly smile on Dumbledore that had Tom snickering with soundless laughter behind him. “He had his reasons.” Harry glanced ahead, at the path that would lead them to Dorea’s house, and cast a Tempus. Yes, it was still only three-thirty in the morning, long before he could see waking his great-aunt even for a visitor from another world. Tom was lucky he’d shown up in the middle of the day. “Why don’t you come inside and I’ll make you a cup of tea, Mr. Dumbledore?”

“Mr. Riddle should come as well.”

“Why? Do you two know each other?”

Tom cast him a single heated, appreciative glance. What Dumbledore read from it was anyone’s guess, given his extremely polite expression. “I first came through the portal because he used blood sacrifice to open it. I was going to determine if he was practicing other illegal magic and arrest him if possible.”

“Well, looking at him over tea isn’t going to tell you that. Why don’t we let Tom get back to bed, and you and I can talk?”

Tom’s arm brushed against Harry’s side. Harry almost gave the game away by starting. Honestly, he still wasn’t used to having people reach out like that, as wonderful as the hugs his family here gave him were. “I think I would prefer to stay up, Harry. I always have had trouble getting back to sleep once it’s broken in on.”

Harry sighed. Well, he hadn’t thought Tom would let him spend very long talking to Dumbledore alone, if it happened at all. “Fine. Let’s go.” He illuminated the sides of the path with short snaps of his wand, and led Dumbledore and Tom to the kitchen, lifting small shields of silence around them as well. He could just imagine the expression on Dorea’s face if they did wake her up.

*

Tom kept close to Harry as they settled at the Potters’ kitchen table and Dumbledore looked around with a benign smile, adding too much milk to his tea, as usual. Tom had been more than pleased with the way that Harry kept gesturing to him, supporting him, helping him. And he wasn’t going to let that fade away because Harry wanted to back off or act cooler now that they weren’t walking.

Show appreciation for his support, he’s more likely to give it.

It was a lesson Tom had learned well with his friends and followers back in his own world, and so he made sure his shoulder was leaning against Harry’s as he sat down in the chair next to his and faced Dumbledore.

Dumbledore stopped giving admiring glances to the pans hanging on the walls and the small bread oven that Dorea had in one corner, and glanced at them again. “Mr. Riddle, you know as well as I that you will be arrested if you used illegal magic. Even if it was only technically illegal, even if it was on this side of the portal.”

Tom snorted. Dumbledore hadn’t done enough research to realize how ridiculous that contention was, it seemed. “The laws that apply to portals say magic performed on this side of the door doesn’t count, Minister. Only magic performed in my world.”

Dumbledore sighed. “You violated the spirit and not the letter of the law, Mr. Riddle.”

“Why are you so sure that he did?” Harry interjected. “And even if he did, isn’t it the letter of the law that’s important, when it comes to judging matters like this in court?”

“Not in this case.” Dumbledore folded his hands on the table, utterly ignoring his cup of tea, which Tom knew was a bad sign. “You would not know it since you have now been on this side of the door for a week, Mr. Riddle, but as of yesterday, the Ministry handed all power over the judgment of Dark magic to me. I am now empowered to order the arrest of anyone who uses it and bring them to a private trial, overseen by myself.” His eyes flashed once through his glasses. “And I intend to bring you back for that trial, Mr. Riddle. Blood sacrifice, even from animals, is still Dark magic.”

All Tom could think, in the silence made by what seemed to be the stopping of his heart, was, Shit.