11

Chapter XI: Memories of Tom

(Michael P.O.V)

A yawn escaped Michael's mouth as he tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes. It had been two days since Harry had fallen off his broom, and to the surprise and confusion of nearly everyone, he still hadn't woken up. Both Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore claimed that it was nothing to worry about as Harry's vitals were all stable, and the Dementors hadn't managed to kiss him, but Michael couldn't help but feel concerned as nobody, at least to his knowledge, had ever faded into a coma from a dementor's presence.

It was strange for Michael, when he was younger he used to alienate people from his life, they were boring and simple and he really didn't like that. However, he didn't like being lonely any better so instead, he had turned to mischief to avoid the conflicted feelings of loneliness and disinterest that resided inside him. He had never truly made a friend until Harry, and they had been getting along swimmingly. But now, Harry was comatose and nobody seemed to understand why.

Michael was smart, he would dare say he was the brightest wizard of his age, and he felt that for his best and only real friend he would shed his laziness and try to figure out the reason behind Harry's new-found condition. He had snuck into the forbidden section of the library with the help of Fred and George and had started reading as many books on dementors as he could.

He found out a lot about them, how they were unkillable, how Azkaban had actually been created from the island in which Dementor's first spawned, how only the Patronus Charm was capable of safeguarding one against their attacks, but he had found nothing that explained Harry's slow recovery. Fred and George had helped him read some books, Astoria had fallen asleep in the library twice from being up until the wee hours reading the awful details of dementors, and even Neville had come to lend a hand. Yet, there was still no explanation.

The library was empty and closing hours would be happening soon. In his mind, he calculated who was on Harry watch. He normally took the morning shift, Fred and George visiting around lunch with Angelina, and followed normally by Astoria or Professor Lupin who would check in between classes. Michael was surprised that one-time Lupin had come in with a rather large black dog, and when he had asked, Lupin had explained that while in the muggle world Harry had adopted a dog and he had read that sometimes animals could help in a person's recovery.

Michael was not really handling it all that well, but Astoria was even worse. It wasn't a mystery to anyone that knew the two of them that Astoria had started looking up to Harry as an older brother and honestly Harry had been rather protective of the first-year lioness as well. Michael took a deep breath before letting out an aggravated sigh. He was a genius, Harry was his friend, he should have been able to come up with something, anything to help Harry out, but all he was drawing was a big blank.

Michael's stomach growled loudly, he had been skipping meals to do research and to be honest, he was sure he hadn't had an actual meal since the breakfast before Gryffindor try-outs. Just before Michael was about to open up another book he heard a voice call out, "Michael?"

Quickly he turned around, facing her was the girl he spent so much time thinking about. Susan Bones was standing in the hallway of the Library a concerned looked on her face. Michael turned to her, but given the lack of sleep he doubted that he looked very reassuring as he gave a small grin, "Hey Red, what's up?"

"I just came to check on you," Susan said kindly, "I heard from Neville you've been spending most of your time here. I haven't seen you in the Great Hall for meals so I just got a little worried."

"I'm okay," Michael lied, "I just need to figure this out. I have to be missing something, it just doesn't make sense."

"Harry's going to be okay," Susan said in a very assured tone.

"I wish I felt as confident about it as you do," Michael sighed, "He's my best friend you know, and I just feel like such a failure."

Susan walked over towards him. Michael watched as she pulled up a chair next to him before turning to face him, forcing eye contact. Michael felt his anxiety relax as he stared into her amber pools, and with a calm voice, she spoke, "You're not a failure. In fact, I'm sort of impressed. I always knew you were smart, I saw it during our first year of Defense Against the Dark Arts when you instantly deduced that something was fishy about Professor Quirrell. But, seeing all this, seeing how hard you're working, it's admirable, it's certainly not something to be ashamed of."

"I still haven't figure out a way to help him though," Michael said tiredly, "God I hate feeling so helpless. All of this brainpower for nothing it's just so-"

"Stop," Susan said and Michael felt his body calm as he felt Susan take his hand in hers, "Just take a deep breath, okay? When was the last time you had something to eat that wasn't a to-go snack?"

"Uh," Michael said, "Couple days."

"Alright, first we get you something to eat," Susan said calmly, "Then you get some sleep and we'll get started on research again tomorrow."

"We'll?" Michael asked in confusion.

"You're my friend Corner," Susan said with a smile, "Of course I'll help. But let's get some food first."

"You know that dinner's over right, Red?" Michael said a small smile on his face.

"Did you know that the Hufflepuff Common Room is right next to the Hogwarts' Kitchens?" Susan said with a grin, "Come on, I know a way."

(Daphne P.O.V)

Daphne lay down in her bed, stress filling her mind. She had convinced herself that she couldn't care less about Potter's condition, a thing that was cause for much celebration in the Slytherin Common Room much to her disgust, yet something about it all was bothering her. She too had studied dementors, not in the way she had witnessed her sister, the Weasley Twins, Longbottom, and Corner studying them, but she had studied the effects a dementor has on one's psychology.

Yet never in her research did she hear of a dementor causing a coma without first removing a person's soul. Fudge had appeared at his earliest convenience to muddle on about how what happened to Harry being a strange anomaly and how he would ensure the ministry would be there for Potter when he awoke, but it was bothering her that it didn't make sense. The other thing that had bothered her was the stress she saw on her sister's face.

There was a reason Daphne wasn't sorted into the House of the Brave. She had wanted to apology to her sister many times, but each time she pushed it back not wanting to have the fight or to worse have to admit she was wrong aloud, though she had accepted the fact in her heart. Her younger sister wasn't eating, the bags under her eyes showed her lack of sleep, and for as long as Daphne could remember, Astoria had always been a smiley child. Now, however, Daphne couldn't think of the last time she had seen her sister smile, it made her nauseous, seeing such evident unhappiness in her sister, she needed to do something. Harry had enough people there for him, Daphne worried about nobody being there for her sister.

Finally, building up the resolve, she threw herself out of bed and began to brush the knots out of her hair, "Where are you going?" Tracey called out from her own bunk.

"Hospital wing," Daphne responded curtly.

"To go see Potter?" Tracey said with a smirk.

"No," She said firmly, though it was hard for her to deny that Potter had been on her mind since she had witnessed him teaching Astoria in the astronomy tower. The level of ease and calm Harry had as he taught, it pained her to say it, but she felt that Harry had it in him to be a great Professor one day if he wanted to be.

Tracey just chuckled, "You are so into him. Why don't you just admit it? You talk about him all the time, you're constantly sneaking glances at him from our table, hell, you even criticize the girls that come up and flirt with him. What did you call Brown again?"

"Shut up Trace-," Daphne started.

"A talentless, scantily-clad, bimbo, right?" Tracey finished causing Daphne to hiss angrily.

"It was one time, I was having a bad day, it had nothing to do with Potter," Daphne said with irritation.

"Sure, you just happened to lash out at a girl that's always chasing after the guy you're always staring at pretending to hate," Tracey said with a smirk, "Admit it, you call him arrogant, but part of you likes it. Guys who are weak and stutter when they try to flirt with you or have no confidence in themselves drive you up the wall. You don't like Malfoy because he's boastful along with a flurry of other issues, but Potter isn't boastful, he's just confident, and I find it quite funny."

"Well I'm glad you find his arrogance humorous," Daphne said heatedly, "But like I said, me going to the Hospital Wing has nothing to do with him."

"Sure it doesn't," Tracey said with a playful wink, "Don't stay out too late or people might start getting the wrong idea."

"Tracey," Daphne said with a sigh, "He's in a coma."

"You've never read sleeping beauty?" Tracey said with a chuckle forcing Daphne to roll her eyes.

"Whatever," She mumbled and with the echoing of Tracey's snickering, Daphne departed to find her sister, and though she'd never admit to it, she planned to check in on Potter as well, but only for research purposes.

The walk to the infirmary was far, and it wasn't helped that she had stopped by the kitchens to ask for a late-night snack in case her sister was hungry. Daphne was slightly worried about how she'd return to her common room without losing points for being out after hours, but at this point, it didn't matter, she needed to make sure Astoria was okay, and if she lost a few house points for it, so be it. Honestly, her little sister's protectiveness over Harry and vice-versa was both inspiring and confusing. The two had known each other for less than four weeks and yet they had such a close-knit friendship, the kind that Daphne and Tracey had taken years to develop. She wasn't sure how he did it, but Daphne was really beginning to consider Harry's ability to make deep friendships in such a short time a near superpower.

Pushing that mystery out of her head, for now, Daphne had opened the infirmary, and in the distance, was a bed surrounded in sweets, flowers, and a bunch of other junk. However, it wasn't the contents that surrounded the bed, but the person laying there that drew most of Daphne's attention. Harry Potter was a hero to a lot of girls growing up, and Astoria was no different. Daphne used to laugh when she'd bring back books about the adventures of Harry Potter to read. But that boy laying on the bed, pale as a ghost looked nothing like the superhero the stories had portrayed him as. Harry looked weak and broken, and for some reason, it infuriated Daphne.

How could the boy that constantly flirted with her and drove her insane ever look that weak? She wanted to go over there and shake Potter back to reality and yell at him for playing around, but the fact of the matter was that he wasn't. It wasn't some elaborate prank, Harry was suffering from some sort of ailment, and not even Madam Pomfrey knew what it was. For a fleeting moment, Daphne had felt a flicker of concern for the Boy-Who-Lived. However, the flicker of concern was erased upon seeing the person she had truly come to see. Her kaleidoscopic eyes were puffy, and her jet-black hair was braided poorly, worse than Daphne believed Astoria would ever allow them to be. Her younger sister was sitting there, at the visitor's chair right beside Harry's bed checking on the moist towel laid across his forehead, a stack of cards in her hand.

As Daphne drew closer, she began hearing her sister mutter to herself a string of comments that would have been funny had she not been so depressed, "This one is from Neville's Gran, you'll probably want to read that one later," She then began to once again toss a myriad of different letter in the trash as she sighed, "Fan mail, fan mail, fan mail, marriage contract, fan mail, broom closet inquire," Then she stopped, "A letter from the Minister himself, probably important."

"Organizing his mail now, are we?" Daphne chimed in.

Astoria quickly turned around, and Daphne had a chance to really see up-close the amount of exhaustion etched onto her younger sister's face, "Don't sneak up on me like that, jeez."

"Sorry," Daphne said pulling up a chair and sitting next to her sister, "I saw you didn't make it to dinner, you must be hungry."

"Why do you care?" Astoria grumbled, "Afraid I'm going to die of hunger before my blood curse kills me."

"Astoria don't say that," Daphne said firmly. She had always been overprotective of her younger sister because of her disease, but in Astoria's exhausted state, she seemingly let slip just how irritated Daphne's constant vigilance of her made her, "We may have had a fight, but you know I still love you. And that blood curse is not going to kill you because I am going to find a cure for you. I promise."

Astoria looked down at the ground, "What kind of food did you bring?"

"Some kind of steak and arugula sandwich the elves in the kitchen made," Daphne said handing the sandwich from her bag to Astoria, "They look a little lumpy, but they are really good."

"Thanks," Astoria said meekly as she bit into the sandwich a sad smile on her face, "I wish Harry was better already. I miss talking to him, the Gryffindor common room hasn't been much fun without him."

"He's going to be alright Astoria," Daphne said gripping her sister's shoulder, "The Dark Lord couldn't kill Potter. I doubt a dementor ever stood a chance."

A slight smile appeared on Astoria's lips as she nodded before her face turned serious, "Hey Daph?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry," Astoria said, "I've had a lot of time to think while watching over Harry and I've come to the conclusion that he was right. You were just trying to be a good sister and I shouldn't have gotten so mad at you for trying to protect me. I just- I-"

"I get it," Daphne said wrapping her arm around her sister letting Astoria's tired head rest on her shoulder, "You don't want to live your life in fear of the curse. You want to have fun and try to live as normally as possible. I shouldn't try to regulate who you can and can't be friends with, considering I'm the Ice Queen of Hogwarts it's not like I have a lot of good advice regarding friendships anyway."

"I actually talked to Potter about it before our fight," Daphne continued, "He told me that you were too stubborn to listen to reason and would do as you saw fit because you're very headstrong. He told me that you were a big girl who could take care of herself but if you needed him, he promised he wouldn't let anything happen to you." Daphne paused as Astoria's kaleidoscopic eyes peered into hers, "I couldn't trust him. I didn't really know who he was, I still don't know who he is really outside of the arrogant flirt he shows himself to me as, but after what I saw in the astronomy tower last week, I think I believe him despite everything logically pointing in another direction."

"That was you?" Astoria asked, "Why did you leave?"

"I came to help console you after that transfiguration class," Daphne started "But it seemed as if Harry had beaten me to the tower and was not only making you laugh but managed to get you to perform the spell. I figured you didn't need me around."

"I'll always need you," Astoria whispered, "You're my big sister. You can be a real stuck up bitch sometimes, but I couldn't imagine my life without you." Astoria then stopped a moment looking down at Harry before she started, "I think I like hanging out with him so much because it's like hanging out with someone who understands me, who understands what it's like to be different without ever having a choice, even if he doesn't know about my blood-curse. He's just, I don't know, I'm not really good with words, it's just-"

"Inspiring?" Daphne suggested.

Astoria nodded meekly before she smiled back up at her, "I mean, with you, we used to read stories and theorize about what magic could do. We played games of pretend politics and deviously plotted on how we would destroy the Malfoys. I even remember when I got hurt and I let you experiment with your knowledge of Muggle first aid kits."

A smile appeared on her face as Daphne remembered when Astoria had scrapped her arm and she put Neosporin and a band-aid on it interested in how quickly muggle medicine worked. Or when Daphne had once joked about how unfortunate it would be if the Malfoys just happened to get involved in a ponzi scheme that left them broke. But her reminiscing was ended when her sister continued, "It's kind of the same thing with Harry. Except, less politically and educationally informative and more like life advice. I mean, he's the Boy-Who-Lived, I don't even know half the things he's gone through in his life, but seeing the way he never gives up, it just means a lot to me. He's brave and fair, and he believes in me, Daphne. Every time I struggled with anything he never lets me give up."

"He stopped the Gryffindor's from bullying me because you were a snake," Astoria said tears now swelling in her eyes, "And I just want him to wake up, so I can tell him that I got an O on my Avifors spell that he helped me work on. I just want him to be okay, so things can go back to normal, he's like my big brother Daph, and I felt like I wanted to fall apart because I thought I lost both of you."

Daphne tightened her hug around her sister allowing the understanding of Astoria's surprisingly close relationship with Harry to flood her mind. Somehow, Potter understood Astoria even better than Daphne herself did at times, and she felt bad that her sister had somehow believed she had lost the two people she had looked up to the most, "I'm not going anywhere Tori," Daphne whispered, "You're my little sister until the end. I'll try to be less controlling of your life, but you can't ask me to stop worrying, it's in my blood to worry about you."

Daphne felt her ribs crush slightly as Astoria returned the tight hug tears staining her cheeks before she broke apart. It was silent for a moment as both Daphne and her sister watched solemnly over Potter. That was until Astoria turned to face her handing her a chocolate bar from the nearby desk. Daphne eyed her sister strangely before Astoria finally spoke, "I have to use the restroom. In case Harry wakes up Professor Lupin says to feed him the chocolate bar, he says it helps with post dementor attacks. I know it's unlikely but still, just in case."

Daphne nodded taking the chocolate bar into her hands and watched as Astoria left the infirmary towards one of the open restrooms leaving her alone with Potter. She looked down at the ground and nearly shrieked as she saw a rather large black dog resting on the ground next to Harry, and thought they had just repaired their relationship, Daphne had wanted to punch Astoria for not warning her that a creature that big was there. However, seeing that the dog was sound asleep, Daphne returned to staring at Potter.

The Harry she knew was tall, well-built, annoyingly handsome, but the one she saw before her was the antithesis of the boy that she had been in a broom closet with just weeks prior. Slowly, as if due to her practiced medical instinct, she placed the back of her hand atop Harry's forehead before changing the cloth, and she herself shivered at how cold the boy felt. However, Daphne had nearly jumped once more in shock, as for the first time in days, Harry spoke. It was gruff and mumbled and it sounded more like sleep-talking than anything else, but it was more than just tired, Harry sounded afraid as he whispered, "Tom, Tom, Tom."

(Harry P.O.V)

Harry was lost, lost could hardly even cut it anymore, he felt as if he was gone. The only thing that stopped him from believing he was dead was that he hadn't seen his mother or father yet, well, he had, but not in the way it had seemed. At first, Harry remembered falling. He remembered the screams of his mother, the coldness of his skin, the roaring pain in his head, and then suddenly, everything went numb.

Harry didn't feel like he was falling any longer, but he certainly wasn't on his feet either, currently, he was floating. He felt as if he was watching a movie, like he was an outside spectator to the reality he was seeing, but the movie that was being played was a horror as Harry trailed behind a snake-like man in Dark Black Robes. His eyes glowed a crimson red, his fingernails were long and uncut, and in his path, a place Harry had recognized well, Godric's Hollow.

Sirius and Remus had taken Harry to his childhood home once a year. It was the only time in which they returned, and even then, only briefly. Their respects had to be paid to his mother and father, and Harry enjoyed the momentary closeness. But this walk was different, it was colder now, and the ruins of the house were non-existent. Instead, a perfectly built cottage was barged into by the cloaked man.

He heard screaming, and he saw a man that looked much like Harry call out, "Lily! Get Harry and run! Pettigrew turned!"

Harry watched as a beautiful red-headed woman ran up the stairs before he watched his near-perfect doppelgänger avoid curse after curse, stumbling for a wand he did not have before hearing the torturous words, "Avada Kedavra!" And with a thud, the man that could only have been James Potter fell to the ground.

Harry cried out in agony as he witnessed his father's death. Imagining it had been one thing, but Harry felt as if he was living it. He watched as his father fought desperately to stop the cloaked man from climbing up the stairs where his mother had fled. And he watched as his father sacrificed himself in an attempt to buy his wife and infant son time. He watched as, without regard for the dead, the cloaked man stepped on his father's body like it was a welcome mat, and Harry wanted to strangle the man, but he couldn't move, all he could do was watch.

He closed his eyes not wanting to see what happened next, but the screams of his mother begging the cloaked man for mercy, for his life, only to be greeted by the same blinding green light. Worse than he could ever dream, he had watched the murder of his parent's first hand, and not only could he not understand how this was possible, but there was nothing he could do to stop it either. Harry was in hell as he watched the cloaked man lift his wand towards his infant-self and then, with a hissed, "Avada Kedavra!" Everything went white.

Once again, Harry was floating, but this time it wasn't somewhere he recognized and the cloaked reptilian man was no longer there. Instead, Harry found himself in a tiny room with two beds. From the window, Harry saw that the building was in the shape of a square, with high railings and fading architecture. Regardless, the boy looked clean, with neatly combed jet-black hair, pale skin, and dark eyes. Like Harry, he was tall for his age, and as Harry turned to the bunk that was the boy's, it was clear that it wouldn't be much longer until he no longer fit in his cot.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and standing at the doorway was another boy clutching a broken figurine, and a skinny and harassed-looking, with a sharp-featured face and thin grey hair. "Tom, Dennis here tells me you broke his toy. Is that true?"

"No Ms. Cole," Tom said sweetly, "I didn't mean to, I accidentally tripped and fell on top of it. I'm really sorry."

"It's okay Tom," Ms. Cole said before turning to the other boy, "See, it was an accident Dennis, nothing that can't be fixed."

"It wasn't an accident!" Dennis screamed, "He took my toy and broke it. He said it was because I didn't clean his room for him like he told me to! He did it on purpose!"

"Tom?" Ms. Cole asked calmly, "Is this true? Be honest, if I find out you lied to me, I won't be happy about it."

The look of sorrow that seemingly appeared on Tom's face by magic had made Harry jump slightly, "It was an accident really. I'm sorry Dennis. If he wants, he can use one of my toys, I really didn't mean to."

"See Dennis," The older woman said with a smile, "Tom said he was sorry, now come on, I'll see what I can do to fix this toy."

The boy named Dennis continued to glare angrily at Tom before Ms. Cole escorted the boy out of the room before closing the door. But as soon as the door shut closed, the scene changed again, and now Harry saw a most horrifying sight. The poor boy Dennis seemed paralyzed on his bed as Tom held a sharpened piece of broken glass to his throat. Harry had known instantly that there was something wrong about Tom, but he never would have expected this.

"I told you not to tell didn't I Dennis?" The boy spoke softly, no malice in his voice.

"T-Tom?" Dennis called out in fright, a puddle forming in his bed.

"Quiet while I'm talking," Tom hissed, "I told you not to tell, didn't I? You broke the rules, and now I'm going to make you pay."

"What are you going to do?" Dennis whispered, tears in his eyes.

Harry watched as Tom reached over to a picture frame that rested on the boy's bedside table. Dennis looked at the picture with horror, "Please no, Tom, that's my mom, I don't have any other-"

But before Dennis could even finish his plea, Tom jammed the shard of glass into the picture frame tearing it down the middle before ripping it to shreds. Dennis was now in tears, but the horror show wasn't over, wordlessly and without a wand, the torn of fragments of the picture frame erupted in Tom's hand, now at the center of a roaring fire. A demented smile rested on Tom's face as he spoke, "Orphans don't need pictures of their family. Only failures die. Next time you rat on me, I'll make sure your punishment is much worse."

Before Harry could even process what had just happened, Tom had dropped the shard of glass, allowing it to shatter all over the floor where the picture's frame now laid destroyed, before walking out the door, a twisted grin on his face as he lifted a finger to his mouth shushing the boy who silently cried beneath his breath, "Tom, Tom, Tom."

And then, with a gasp, Harry sat straight up, tears in his eyes as he shouted, "Tom!"