Chapter Text
Harry had been quickly shooed out of the dark room by the King, who looked a tad bit paler than usual. Since it wasn’t the first time he’s been dismissed after a message, Harry didn’t question it.
He walked down the sturdy stone halls, expanding his wings slowly until he let out a sigh of relief. He stretched his arms over his head at and at the same time he stretched his wings, feeling them brush the sides of the hallway even though he was stretching them out vertically behind him. Harry relaxed and let his wings fold onto his back, tucking them like how a bird does it.
Forcing in his wings inside was like wearing a robe without armholes. Harry felt trapped, uncomfortable, and very aware that this is not how you wear robes. Similarly, hiding his wings felt unnatural but thankfully not painful. It just brought along the feeling of wrongness, incompletion.
It was always accompanied by a warm, almost hot buzzing sensation underneath his skin. As if he had a swarm of angry bees stuck inside him that needed to be freed. Harry shivered at that mental image but couldn’t help but find that comparison suitable.
Harry found himself near the entrance of the palace. He recognised his surroundings and let his memory guide him to the front door. Now that he had finished his mission, he was technically free to leave whenever.
A gasp behind him startled Harry out of his musings, and he turned in time to see Prince Basileus, along with two unfamiliar boys next to him. Harry blinked in confusion. Were there more hidden princes that Harry had never met? He hadn’t questioned the existence of Tom yet, figuring that it was just another human custom that he didn’t understand. He’s met some creatures that insisted they had no children, even when he knew that they had a family of ten.
Prince Basileus looked like he almost didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth a few times until he finally settled on “Harry!”. Harry jerked in surprise. He’s never told the Prince his name before.
Prince Basileus seemed to catch on to this and just shrugged. “Mother insisted I call you Harry because you prefer it.” Harry nodded. That makes sense, although Harry couldn’t help but think of how different Basileus seemed from last night. Yesterday, the boy had been polite and taken every caution to be respectful. today, however, Basileus seemed to throw that out the window and not even ask if he could call Harry his name personally.
Harry wasn’t sure how to feel about that, someone he didn’t give permission calling him by his casual name. If Harry had done that to another god that he wouldn’t hear the end of it. Before he could think on it more though Prince Basileus pulled out a wooden sword and gestured to the boys standing behind him. “we’re gonna play knights and dragons, wanna join us? Oh, yea and you can call me Basileus if you want. None of the prince stuff.” Basileus almost seemed to grimace at his title and Harry internally shrugged. Well if Basileus was forgoing titles, then Harry would too.
“Okay.” He agreed easily. He’s never really played games with other kids before and he felt too curious for his own good. He wondered how this will go.
The boys lead him out to a smaller garden. There was a nice limestone path that led out into a small clearing, and even though winter had only just ended, Harry thought he could see some flower buds growing on the bushes.
Harry eyed the two other boys for a few seconds and Basileus seemed to perk up. “Oh, right I almost forgot.” He stopped and the two other boys stopped beside him. The taller boy with blond hair seemed to narrow his eyes in irritation but Basileus spoke before he could say anything. “This is Draco Malfoy, he’s the Malfoy heir.” He gestured at the blond. “And this is Theodore Nott, he’s the Nott heir.” He pointed at the dark brown-haired boy who had a beauty mark underneath his left eye.
“Hello,” Harry said politely to the both of them, and they said a short greeting back. Malfoy seemed especially interested in his wings, while Nott couldn’t take his eyes away from Harry’s messenger badge.
Harry had no idea what on earth a Nott or a Malfoy was, but he knew enough about humans to know that they had special family names. So he just nodded and pretended to understand their importance, as not to embarrass himself.
He’s never been in front of so many kids before, would they like him? What if they thought he was boring?
“Here,” Basileus said holding out the wooden sword. Harry grabbed it by its pointy end and tried not to show his surprise when it was heavier than he thought it was.
Seemingly out of nowhere Basileus pulled another sword out of a bush, and Nott did the same thing. Malfoy frowned, seeing where this was going. “Theo took my sword” He claimed while Nott just laughed at him.
“Not my fault you were too slow,” Nott said.
“This isn’t fair. I’m always the dragon!” Malfoy huffed. Harry couldn’t tell if he was genuinely annoyed or not, so he just watched the trio sort it out amongst themselves.
“But your name means Dragon!” Basileus joined into the teasing. “It was meant to be.”
Seeing that he was getting nowhere, Malfoy turned his steel-grey eyes onto Harry. The other two followed Malfoy’s gaze and soon all three pairs of eyes were on him. Harry felt himself stiffen, not understanding what Malfoy wanted.
“Well, what do you think then?” Malfoy asked snootily, and Harry saw Malfoy attempt to look him in the eye.
“I err. I mean I can be the dragon?” Harry suggested, stiff as a board.
Malfoy smiled, but Harry felt as if the smile was a bit too sharp. “That’s great! Give me the sword.” He stuck out his hand and Harry just gave it over.
“So um. What does the dragon do exactly?” Harry asked, and Basileus seemed to brighten.
“The dragon has to fight us of course! We’re here to rescue the princess.” Basileus insisted and Harry felt a small frown tug at his mouth. He didn’t really want to fight them, especially since he has no reason to. Did he have to hurt them? What happens if he loses?
Before Harry could voice any of his concerns Basileus let out a loud battle cry and jumped at Harry. As quick as a flash Harry sidestepped him and watched as Basileus almost crashed into a bush. Harry blinked, not expecting any of that.
The shouts of two boys behind him alerted Harry to the oncoming attack, and Harry once again tried to dodge them. He managed to duck under Malfoy’s swing, who swung so hard that the wooden sword made a woosh sound in the air, but Harry couldn’t dodge Nott’s foot. Harry’s feet were hooked out from under him and he was sent tumbling to the grass with a yap. Thankfully, the ground was soft and Harry was back up again, feeling his heart pound.
He looked at all three boys, who studied him just as sharply before he just turned tail and ran.
He let out a laugh at their cry of indignation.
“Hey! You’re supposed to fight us not run away!” Basileus leapt after him and from the pounding of footsteps on grass he wasn’t alone.
Harry felt the wind whip at his hair as he ran, a laugh bubbling out of him as he remembered happy memories of him and Sirius playing chase. He looked behind him to see that the boys were further away and as Harry was rounding a corner he quickly darted inside a bush. He tucked his wings lower to the ground as he hid.
Basileus ran in front of him first, not seeing him. Malfoy did the same thing but as Nott passed Harry stuck out his arm to get revenge and tripped Nott. The boy fell to the ground with an ‘Oof’ and Harry quickly bolted back towards the castle, feeling the thrill of the game stretch his cheeks out into a smile.
He didn’t see why Malfoy didn’t want to be the dragon; it wasn’t so bad.
“He duked us!” Harry heard Basileus shout as he booked it back. Harry let them catch up to him and he dodged Basileus’ swing at him. Malfoy seemed determined to get a hit in but Harry managed to get just out of range. Nott hadn’t caught up to them yet as he had to pick himself back up, and Harry had to smother a laugh at the twig sticking out of Nott’s hair.
The three boys came at him, and Harry suddenly questioned how on earth was he expected to fight back if he only had his hands and they had swords. Malfoy took an unexpected swing at Harry and Harry didn’t dodge in time. The wooden sword hit his arm and Harry winched at the pain. He danced away from Nott’s grab, but he couldn’t avoid Basileus charge, which sent both him and Basileus onto the ground.
Basileus seemed to land wrong and was winded, and Harry used that opportunity to tear Basileus’s sword away. “Hey!” He heard him shout “You’re not allowed to take the sword!” Basileus complained before Harry was pelted again by Malfoy. Harry raised the sword and tried to block, but the strength of Malfoy’s hit surprised him and the shockwave of it travelled down Harry’s arm.
Harry was forced to drop the sword, much to Malfoy’s glee but Harry kicked the sword away from Basileus’s hand before the prince could get it back. Basileus sought to retaliate by hitting the back of Harry’s knees which made him buck. He fell back onto Basileus who yapped, and Nott used that opportunity to whack him in the thigh.
Harry withheld a winch and rolled off Basileus who was breathing heavily and looked oddly red in the face. Nott, seeing the look on Basileus' face seemed to back off while Malfoy kept on trying to hit Harry. Harry, in the onslaught and defenceless without using his wings, which he thought would make things unfair, decided that maybe he did not enjoy being the dragon after all.
Before Malfoy could whack his stomach with the sword Basileus shoved Malfoy away. Harry almost let out a breath of relief before Basileus turned around and straight up tackled Harry to the ground again. Harry coughed as he landed on his back, and Basileus’s furious snotty face came into view. “Dragons can’t use swords to fight! You can’t take them away from knights.” Basileus screamed in his face. Harry flinched back, suddenly very aware that Basileus was not playing anymore. “That’s not how things go!”
Basileus’s breathing was heavy, and his usually pale skin was now a furious red that went all the way down his neck. The boy started screaming again, every word out of the prince’s mouth ended up with spit in Harry’s face, and his fists grabbed onto Harry’s hair and pulled harshly. Harry let out a hiss. His hands shot out to hold Basileus' wrists and Harry finally, finally let his wings snap out and push himself up. He felt a swell of anger rise in him, engulfing the pain with his indignant rage. Harry felt his wings burn brighter than before, and he hardly noticed Nott and Malfoy’s panicking.
Harry looked Basileus in the eye and said firmly. “Let. Go.”
Harry’s hair was released and then something bashed into his face with the force of a centaur. His head jerked to the side, and he felt the shock first before he felt the pain. He looked back at Basileus’s fists and raised an arm in time to stop the next hit. “You didn’t play by the rules! It’s not fair. IT'S NOT FAIR!” Basileus screeched and Harry was very suddenly done with this human.
He was done.
Harry, for the second time since coming to Athens, felt utterly, and hopelessly let down.
“BASILEUS!” A different voice shrieked and Basileus suddenly froze, face still red and his breathing was still heavy. By now the boy had tears in his eyes and a trail of snot running down his nose and over his mouth. Malfoy and Nott were just as frozen as Basileus, looking in horror between Basileus, Harry and something behind him.
Harry slowly turned and was not surprised to see a furious Helene stalking towards them, her face utterly enraged. Walking beside her was a blond woman Harry had never met before who also looked horrified.
What Harry was surprised to see however was the boy from yesterday, Tom, standing off to the side by the palace wall and looking at them with a blank expression.
Harry looked at Helene’s face and felt dread building in his stomach. Whenever a mother looked like that, mad beyond belief over her child Harry knew he had done something wrong and was about to be chewed out. He had once taken a young nymph for a fly because she asked him to, and her mother had been delirious with parental anger and fear. She didn’t care about Harry’s excuses.
She had almost pulled a spear on him before another nymph stopped her, fear of the gods in their eyes as they looked at Harry.
And then Harry looked down at himself, saw the mud on his silk robes, the dirt on his hands, the stinging pain of bruises, and felt disgusted at himself. What messenger wrestled in the mud like an animal? What messenger would play games with human kids? and what messenger got knocked around like dirt?
Harry closed his eyes, knowing that he had agreed to this. He’d been so desperate to experience making friends that he let it get in the way of his job. His actions, he remembered Sirius telling him one night, reflected on Olympus itself.
But when Helene reached them, it was not Harry who she looked at with fury but rather Basileus, who shrunk back under his mother’s venomous glare. Harry held his breath.
Harry watched with quiet shock as Helene gripped Basileus’s shoulders tightly with both hands, and then shook his none too gently. “What do you think you’re doing?” She hissed.
“I..I..” Basileus seemed tongue-tied, unable to form a sentence. Nott and Malfoy behind him looked equally as shocked and uncomfortable.
“Enough. How many times do I need to tell you to stop playing this game?” Helene demanded her son. “Now you’ve gotten Harry hurt and ruined his robes. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Basileus looked as if he was about to cry. “But M-mother..” He hiccupped and Helene just shook her head in disappointment. “I can’t believe a son of mine would be so rude. Go to your room. Now.” And with a withering glare, Basileus sulked off back towards the palace.
The blond woman who was with Helene put a hand each on Nott and Malfoy’s shoulder. She leaned down and said “Come along boys, let's go inside.” and it was not long before they left as well.
Harry glanced back at the palace, catching Tom say something to Basileus before Basileus whipped around and screamed back. Tom said something else, and Basileus turned quickly to look at Helene and then ran off inside.
Harry saw Helene move so she was in front of him, and Harry realised that they were alone. Helene could say anything she wanted to Harry, and no one else would hear. Harry tensed up, expecting to be banned from ever entering Athens again.
“Harry, Oh, Harry, look at what he’s done to your face,” Helene said instead, her voice gentle. Harry blinked at her in surprise, looking into her honeyed hazel eyes to see nothing but sincerity.
Harry felt himself relaxing, a huge wave of relief almost knocking him over like a tide. Helene was not angry at him. She wasn’t going to ban him from Athens and Harry was not going to be reprimanded.
“Let’s get your bruises looked at dear, and then you can use my private bath. I’ll get a servant to wash your robes, so you don’t go back dirty, okay?” Helene said gently and for some reason, Harry almost felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. His throat felt blocked, and everything still stung. The side of his face flared up in pain any time he moved it.
Unable to say anything, Harry just nodded, and Helene sent him a brief but sad smile. Together, they walked their way back to the palace, passing Tom who turned to follow behind them. Harry caught the displeased look Helene sent Tom, but it didn’t seem to bother the boy. Tom just kept his eyes on Harry’s cheek, and Harry knew that the bruise was already starting to swell up.
They made it steadily to the infirmary and Harry dreaded seeing Iasonas again. The snake bite had already healed from this morning, but Harry knew brushes took longer to heal.
Iasonas looked thunderstruck as he spotted Harry’s face, and the young god felt incredibly ashamed that he had let it get to this point.
Harry hauled himself onto a bed and watched Iasonas flutter around looking for salves and alcohol to treat any scratches. Helene explained the situation to Iasonas, who didn’t look shocked about the culprit, but did look shocked that Helene caught him in the act.
Helene’s eyes flickered briefly to Tom, so quick that Harry thought he imagined it and he shared a look with Tom, whose eyes glinted in a way that said he knew something Harry didn’t.
Iasonas set down the medicine by the bedside table and hesitated to apply anything. The physician seemed flustered, not sure as if he was allowed to touch a deity or not. Tom, noticing this immediately took the alcohol off his hands and started applying it to Harry’s cheek. Harry flinched at the sting but otherwise allowed Tom to work in peace.
“Oh no, I will not have you do this.” Helene protested, sending an irritated glare at Tom. Tom merely looked at her blankly and raised a brow. “Don’t you have a council meeting to get back to?” He asked pointedly.
“I can miss it,” Helene said. She tried to take the alcohol bottle off Tom, but Tom was agile for a ten-year-old and dodged her hands with ease.
Tom sent her a glare, and Harry hitched his breath at the pure and utter loathing in his eyes. The first emotion Harry’s seen on Tom today.
A servant suddenly burst into the room and bowed at Helene, capturing everyone’s attention. “Your gracious Majesty, the King is demanding to know why the young Prince was sent to his room.”
Helene looked as if she had bit into a lemon, her face twitched before it clamed into a cool mask. She looked at Harry and her eyes softened. “I apologise that the day turned out this way Harry. Despite everything Basileus is a good boy, he’s only spoiled. I promise I will talk to him.” Helene’s voice was full of sorrow, and while Harry wanted nothing to do with Basileus anymore, he forced himself to nod.
Helene got up, smoothing out her sprawling white robes with red accents. “Please know that you are welcome here anytime Harry, as a messenger or as just a regular boy.” She smiled softly and left with the servant, but not before sending a harsh look at Tom.
Harry…did not know how to react to that. He looked down, feeling something warm at her defence of him today, and of her invitation to visit even if not on official business. Harry heard a scoff and looked up to see Tom rolling his eyes.
Harry looked at Tom in questioning. What part did the boy find disbelieving? He hasn’t seen Tom since yesterday, and this was not how he planned to meet him again. Harry looked down at himself as Tom started to clean his bruises and scrapes again. Most of the scrapes had already healed at this point.
Iasonas fluttered around them, a nervous wreck. When the man bumped into Tom’s arm he finally had enough and snapped at Iasonas to leave and bother someone else. Harry tried not to point out that this was Iasonas’ own office.
With a longing look at Harry, which Harry found unsettling, Iasonas had grabbed some medicine and salves before leaving, muttering about tending to the prince.
The infirmary was silent now, nothing but the sound of Tom’s meticulous work as Harry struggled to stay still and not flinch. Tom looked up from a bruise on his arm and sent Harry the most unimpressed look Harry had ever seen, and he’s had Paean—or as his mother calls him, Severus—glare at Harry before.
“What I don’t understand.” Tom begun. “Is how a god can get hurt so easily.”
Harry grumbled, feeling shame wash over him. He knows that he didn’t conduct himself well today, he didn’t need someone who was practically a stranger to rub it in.
But Tom continued as if Harry hadn’t shown his displeasure. “Is this what they teach messengers of Olympus? To be weak and spineless in front of children?” He unapologetically pressed on a bruise harder than he needed to and Harry felt his anger from earlier rear up to meet him.
“I know I was out of line. You don’t need to point it out.” Harry snapped. He was angry, but he felt more drained than angry.
Tom let out a laugh, a short, sharp one that said everything it needed to about Harry’s reply. “I thought gods have tougher skin or something, and they heal faster.” Tom looked Harry in the eye, and Harry recognised the challenger loud and clear.
“We. Do.” Harry hissed. “But-“ and here Harry cut himself off. He was not going to tell a stranger about himself, About his own damn godhood and how he was only a small god, a lesser one who had yet grown into his powers. Heck, Harry didn’t even know what his powers were besides flight.
Tom raised an eyebrow. “And? What are you, a lesser god?” He said and Harry felt a deep dark pit open up in his stomach, fear and horror at how easily Tom had just said it. Laying out the thing that defined Harry. Who he is, and what he could do in just a short sentence.
Tom looked at Harry in surprise, now both of his eyebrows raised. “Wait really? But what about-“ And now it was Tom’s turn of cut himself off. Harry was annoyed to note that Tom’s expression hid a lot more than Harry’s did, and Harry struggled to get a read on Toms's face.
“But about what?” Harry repeated, trying to taunt the boy into telling him something.
“Nothing.” Tom’s tone was clipped, and he leaned back to give Harry a searching look. Finally, he looked down at the cloth in his hands which was stained a very clear blue by Harry’s blood. Tom looked back at Harry again and frowned.
“You know I can do that myself right?” Harry pointed at the cloth. He had done that this morning after all, and if Tom was going to be all cryptic like this Harry would much rather treat himself.
Tom rolled his eyes and put down the cloth to open a salve. Harry sincerely hoped that whatever happened to the cloth, it did not end up in the Physician’s hands.
Tom started dabbing the salve on Harry’s bruises, his hands were surprisingly gentle. The moment was ruined as soon as Tom opened his mouth.
“What kind of god are you exactly?” Tom asked and Harry’s skin started to crawl. That was the one thing you don’t ask a god, even if you’re a god yourself. Knowledge was power and to offer the knowledge was a gift. It was never something demanded out of Harry.
Harry clamped up tighter than a clam, refusing to talk.
Tom scoffed. “Not talking? That’s okay, I’ll talk, you listen.” And Harry felt even more indignation at that, as if it was Tom’s god-given right to be listened to. Well, it was Harry’s god-given right to shove his foot up Tom’s ass.
Tom ignored the anger on Harry’s face, though the corners of his mouth did twitch. For whatever reason Harry couldn’t really pin it down. “You know, when I saw you and Basileus talking I knew something was going to happen. Something always does with him around.” Tom spat out the last sentence.
“That was the first time I think I’ve seen him be reprimanded, you know?” Tom continued, suddenly looking giddy and smug. “You can thank me for getting that woman by the way. She was utterly furious at me but when she heard Basileus was playing dragons with you she went as pale as a sheet.” Tom seemed endlessly entertained by this, even if he never let up with Harry’s treatment.
Harry did not know how to react to that. On one hand, Harry was thankful Helene showed up when she did, on the other hand, Tom was being so smug that he just didn’t want to acknowledge him. Instead, he settled on “What do you mean it’s the first time Basileus’s been reprimanded?”
Tom tisked at Harry. “Can you only repeat things now?” He asked, looking into Harry’s eyes as if to say ‘really?’ before glancing down at the bruise on Harry’s leg. Harry resisted the urge to puff out his cheeks in frustration.
“Clearly, Basileus has never been punished before. By anyone. Not by that women, not by father and certainly not by the servants.” Tom sneered. “It’s made him unbearably spoiled. No better than a toddler really.” And Harry, thinking back to Basileus’ snotty red face, couldn’t really find it within himself to disagree.
Harry frowned at the glint in Tom’s eye as if the boy knew Harry agreed. He wasn’t that easy to read dammit!. Thinking of something to say Harry asked the first thing that came to mind.
“Why do you call your mother that woman?” Harry asked and Tom seemed to freeze. Caution filled Harry as Tom’s ice blue eyes glared right at him, the beginnings of a truly nasty look on his face.
“That. Women.” Tom began, venom dripping from his every word. “Is not my mother. And she is not the rightful Queen.”
Harry blinked, not expecting, well, that. He was taken aback by how strongly the ten year old felt about this, and he slotted away that information for later.
“Well, you’re nothing like Basileus, so I should have known,” Harry said, and that seemed like the right thing to say as Tom deflated a bit, not longer as angry but still irritated. Tom sniffed hauntingly. “Exactly.”
As Tom finished applying the salve, Harry sighed in relief. His healing was not as great as the other gods, but he still healed a lot faster than humans. His cheek did not sting as much now. In fact, Harry thought that the salve might have some numbing qualities to it, because after a while Harry couldn’t feel anything at all.
“Thanks,” Harry said stiffly. “And thank you for getting Helene.” He added because it was only right, even if Tom was a prat about it.
Tom seemed to accept his thinks easily, though for a second Harry could have sworn that he had caught Tom off guard. But Tom only said, “I know.” And that was that.
Getting up from the bed Harry tested his own weight on his leg, and found that it wasn’t too bad he stood up to walk. “Do you know where the baths are?” Harry asked and Tom just turned around and walked away.
Harry scowled at his back. He thought he may as well ask the next person he saw when Tom looked over his shoulder and said. “Well?”
Harry, realising that Tom was expecting Harry to follow just huffed and walked after the boy. Getting fed up halfway Harry flapped his wings out to give him a jumping boost, landing right by Tom’s side.
Tom glanced up at his wings but otherwise said nothing as the two walked down the halls. Harry was starting to get sick of all the hallways.
“You know, Helene has been really kind to me,” Harry said, feeling like she deserved some credit for how she defended him today. Something about Tom’s ruthless dismissal of her rubbed Harry the wrong way, and he felt like he owed it to her to defend her back.
He still felt a bit warm about that, something in him basking in the novelty of an adult getting angry over him and not at him. “I think she’s a good person.” Harry insisted.
Tom scoffed so loudly that Harry thought the whole palace might as well heard him. “You truly don’t know, do you?” Tom asked in genuine, horrifying surprise. “You’re not just going along with it because of your role, you actually like her?”
Harry bristled, not liking how cold Tom was towards the one person in the castle that had shown him sincerity and kindness.
“Look, I’ll show you,” Tom said instead, his blue eyes holding a stubborn determination. He grabbed Harry’s hand and changed directions, taking Harry back towards the outside of the palace. Harry struggled to keep up, not expecting the sudden change and while his bruises were mostly numb, they were still healing. “Hey watch it!”
But Tom did not watch it, no, Tom did not watch anything as he speed-walked towards the courtyard. Servants and palace guards saw them and quickly got out of dodge, looking in horror at Harry’s face and whispering about the prince.
Harry suddenly remembered that Tom was supposedly also a prince, but Tom never explained why that wasn’t acknowledged. However, thinking back to the mutual hated between Tom and Helene, Harry could probably guess why.
Tom had quickly gotten them to the far side of the courtyard and made Harry climb a ladder. Harry glared at him and instead just flew himself up in a few wing strokes.
Tom muttered something to himself but made his way up behind him, and it was there that Tom pointed to a small cottage with a fence outside the palace walls.
Harry frowned in confusion, wondering what on earth he was supposed to see and how this proves anything. Then his eyes caught movement, a hairy beast moving about behind the fence. Harry squinted his eyes and made out the shape of a pig, or rather several pigs who seemed like they were eating their way through a feast. There were vegetables, cooked and raw, piles of what looked like turkey and disturbingly, a half-eaten roasted boar that a pig was currently munching his way through.
Harry felt a cold sinking feeling in his stomach as he realised that this was the food he and Helene shared at breakfast.
His shoulders slouched just the tiniest bit, remembering that she told him the food would go to the servants when he was worried about it going to waste. He breathed in, and out, before turning to Tom’s surprisingly serious face. “So what if she feeds the pigs leftovers from time to time?” Harry said, fighting back the feeling of indignation. “She’s still a good person.”
Tom shot Harry a look. “Harry, that’s not from this morning.”
“What?” Harry asked.
“It’s lunchtime, that’s what they eat every day. And they never finish it.” Tom said, his voice cold but clear as if every word he spoke had significance, and Harry was reminded of what Helene said to him yesterday. That they prepared the grandest feast just for him, in so little time.
Harry had been impressed then. But now—looking at two pigs fight over a turkey bone, their beastly squealing making him wonder just how on earth he had missed this—Harry came to the realisation that if they ate this everyday, then the feast in his honour was also a lie.
He didn’t feel as impressed anymore.
“They never let anyone else have it.” Tom continued, the beginnings of a sneer on his face and Harry knew Tom was including himself in that ‘anyone else’.
“So no, Harry. They are not good people. Because they would much rather let their servants starve than let them touch anything of theirs.” And now, looking into the emotions in Tom’s eyes, the unguarded rage and disgust Harry saw something he did not expect from Tom Riddle.
He saw himself.
There had been a time, not very long ago that Harry did not have enough to eat. Now, looking into Tom’s eyes as they blazed with an icy fury, he knew he saw a kindred spirit.
This was too personal a matter to be about morels. Oh no, Tom knew all too well what it was like to starve.
And Harry watched, transfixed as he found someone that understood him in the most unlikely of places. He was hit with the sudden, dreadful epiphany that if Helene misguided Harry about the fate of their leftovers, even if Helene did not outright lie, then that means she could be hiding other things too. And if that was true, then the most sincere, genuine person Harry has seen in this castle might not be her but was instead Tom. For while Tom hid his thoughts, he made no efforts to lie or fake his pleasantries.
Harry thinks he might need to sit down for a bit.
And then another thought came to him soon after. “Wait.” Harry paused, turning suspicious eyes onto Tom. “How do you know all this?” He asked, referring to how Tom knew he had breakfast with Helene, and what she had misled him to believe.
Tom only smiled a mysterious smile. Now, Harry knew as he looked into Tom’s eyes that the gleam from earlier was more than Tom knowing something Harry didn’t.
Tom was laughing at him in his head.
The utter prat.