Harry's day was, for lack of a better word, perfect.
The morning passed easily with lazy loops around enchanted trees as Harry explored the room. It went on for quite some distance, appearing even larger than when they had brought the DA's practice room into existence. The little enchanted butterflies weren't the only animals around either, there were squirrels in a myriad of shades and sizes, and even a blue faun with bright pink spots.
He spent some time stretched across his broom on his back, simply floating on the magical breeze while cloud gazing. It was exactly what he had wanted. Better even, since he didn't need to fear prying eyes or bad weather.
When lunch rolled around Alphard did in fact come to check on him, but instead of trying to lure Harry out of the enchanted room and down to the Great Hall, Alphard had packed them up a lunch of sandwiches, fruit, and a bottle of pumpkin juice. After a hasty lunch he pulled out his own broom and the two of them passed the afternoon chasing after magical butterflies and a few crab apples that Alphard enchanted to fly like snitches.
They decided to go down for dinner, Alphard's ease with conversation pulling in those around them. For the first time since arriving Harry actually joined in on the dinner conversation, mostly just talk of what everyone had done that day, Alphard quickly coming up with a story of showing Harry around the castle, and getting lost in a few abandoned rooms in the east wing. Harry had only nodded along. Of course Alphard knew that Tom had made the room, it seemed that the Room of Requirements was a secret to most of the House, but not to everyone.
The air around them was light, carefree. Alphard kept up his playful banter with those of their year all the way back to the dorms, where Harry excused himself from their company, to a few mild protests and a pout from Alphard. But Harry had had enough of socializing for the day.
He spent the rest of the evening soaking in one of the giant baths, large blue bubbled bouncing around him happily. They smelled like fresh blueberries and marshmallows and they didn't lose their size or bounce until they were sucked down the drain hours later.
Yes, the day had turned out to be absolutely perfect.
And if Harry was still sleeping fitfully, if he still found himself waking in the night without remembering when his eyes had even opened. Well, then, at least it all comes with peace of mind. A feeling a safety. It's not so bad, spending the nights mostly awake. Not when he doesn't have to fear what might be lurking in the dark.
Besides, it'll get better in time.
He's sure it will.
~~~
Tom Marvolo Riddle had taken complete and utter control over every aspect of his life by the age of twelve. Though he only had the observations of his peers and the memoirs of other powerful wizards to go by, but Tom was rather certain he was the only person in history to have achieved such a fete at such a young age.
So why, by Merlin's Mangy Beard, could he not sleep!
Tom had conquered sleep years ago. The senseless fears of a scared and lonely child had melted quickly upon discovering magic. Once he'd known that mastery over his person was an attainable goal, he had dedicated himself to it and won. All he needed to do was lie down, close his eyes, and sleep came to him. Dreamless sleep. Sleep that was over in the blink of an eye. It was bad enough that Tom's body needed to rest so for long on a daily basis, he could at least make it seem as though it passed quickly.
Even after completing the Horcrux ritual he was still in complete control of body and thus his sleep. Things had only begun to change when he'd returned to Hogwarts. It was ridiculous to blame it on Harry...who looked as though he'd rather spend his days having tea with woodland fairies than causing anyone trouble. Yet he couldn't ignore that this all began after he came into Tom's life.
He had brushed off that first night, thinking that finding Harry speaking with Gemma, and the subsequent scare that his book had been stolen, had simply shaken him enough that his relaxation techniques had failed.
Then it happened again the next night, and the next. For the rest of the week Tom had found himself unable to actually rest. He closed his eyes, relaxed his body and mind, and....nothing.
By Sunday morning it was starting to get old. He had things to do. Meetings to plan, a whole castle full of students to watch after, and a long standing appointment with Merrythought to help with her class planning that, and every, Sunday and Wednesday evening. He couldn't afford to be lack witted due to something that should have never been an issue to begin with.
There was no wayward new student to chase through the halls that morning, so, for a time, things fell back to being normal. He was mostly finished with a light breakfast of toast, jam, and tea by the time the first few students shuffled their way into the Great Hall. It was easy to spot the muggleborns from the half and pure bloods, those that had to wear their school robes on the weekend to fit in, or even worst, the few idiots who wore muggle clothes the first few weekends before they realized how much scorn the other's were sending their way for it.
Tom gave them all the same kind, protective smile was they filed in. Hogwarts politics, no, the unfair politics of the wizarding world in general might treat them differently, looking down their old, pure blood noses at them as they tried to navigate life outside of the school. But they would always remember that Tom Riddle had been nice to them. Had always had a smile and a helping hand when needed.
Students came and went in waves during the weekends, even Tom couldn't keep track of everyone. He did his best to look over the crowd as a whole, and once he had finished his own mean, lend his attentions to any problem that may arise. So he did not see when Harry and Alphard had entered the Hall, but he couldn't look away once his eyes had found them.
Alphard was bright and bubbly as per usual. He bounced in his seat, waving wildly with his cutlery, Orion must have left already as there was no way he would let his cousin get away with such a base act. Whatever Alphard was saying was lost in the chaos of the Great Hall, though the blank stares of his those around said it was probably just another wild dream he'd had and was, for some reason, obliged to retell it in painstaking detail.
Beside him Harry yawned into his fist. His eyes were hazy behind his golden frames and he seemed unable to focus on the toast before him, let alone on Alphard's rapid fire story. Harry looked as tired as Tom felt, though he at least was able to appeared composed in the face of it. Tom had better control over his body than that.
When the last of the students had cleared out and the tables were magiced clean once more, Tom began his rounds of the halls. The storm from the day before had blown itself out, allowing the sun to come out for the day. It did not mean that the halls were empty, but there were fewer students lingering within them than there had been the day before.
He divided his time between the library and the courtyards, staying in one place only long enough to make sure everything was going smoothly before heading on. His Knights were around to keep the peace alongside the Prefects, between the two groups he had a veritable army at his back. It made it easier, though no less boring, to do his devoir.
At one point he spotted Alphard and Harry racing through one of the archways to the fields below, brooms slung over their shoulders and smiles on their faces. Tom caught Orion and Abraxes watching them from a bench craved into the stone by the archway.
"Alphard knows we have a meeting later, doesn't he?" Neither of them startled at Tom's voice, Abraxas had probably sensed his approach. Orion didn't let things frighten him that easily.
"I told him," Orion didn't take his eyes from the pair as they raced down to the edge of the forest. "He assures me he'll be there on time."
Abraxas didn't say anything, yet he too kept his eyes fixed on Alphard and Harry, or more likely, just Harry. He was a strange puzzle that Abraxas wanted to figure out. The thought of him doing so sent something dark slithering down Tom's spine. There was something about Harry that was starting to set Tom, not on edge exactly, but something that made him feel more alert. Something about Harry that made him...care.
He could think of no other way to describe the pull, the drive to felt around Harry, to make him a safe haven to spend a day in...to even show him that room in the first place.
Tom shook himself slightly and went back inside. He had an hour before the meeting, he could make several more rounds of the castle in that time.
~~~
The warmth was amazing.
It wasn't just the sun, though being able to fly under bright rays, racing through real wind, with the scent of real, wet earth beneath him. Not that Tom's magical meadow hadn't been a fantastic retreat. It was just that the real thing was always going to be better.
The sunny green field was peppered with happy students, some stretched on blankets to soak up the sun, others, like Harry and Alphard, flew around on brooms or played games with enchanted balls, trying to enjoy the day to its fullest. Laughter drifted on the breeze, reflected in Alphard's smiling face. Everything about the day, that moment in particular, warmed a part of him that Harry hadn't noticed had gone cold.
The past had been a cold and stormy place so far and he was just realizing, with sun and wind on his face, that it wasn't just the gloomy weather.
Some part of him was still on that chilly beach, some part that kept thinking he would just open his eyes and be back there, alone and cold on his birthday. It had made accepting his place in the past easier. Why shouldn't he be content to float along if he was just going to wake up.
It was this moment, with laughter, and sunshine, and Alphard falling off his broom after trying to do a complicated flip, landing himself rump first onto a third year girl's open book, that caused Harry to realize he'd only been half awake this whole time. It was Harry toppling off his own broom from laughter as the third year girl pummeled an already bruised Alphard with her book, that solidified Harry's resolve.
He wasn't simply going to exist in the past. So long as he was there, Harry was going to live.
~~~
"It's old, that's really all I know," Orion always spoke in the same, monotonous way. Right to the point, eternally stern. It was good for getting the basic information from him. But it made for a boring conversion. "My father seems to think that it is quite dark, though."
"Old and dark are not the same thing," Abraxas chimed in, and soon the rest were putting in their two sickles as well.
They met every week in the library. It was a time that those who were not in their house, but still one of Tom's Knights, could come and converse as a group. He had learned a charm, found it and tweaked it, some time ago, so that any who drew near the table only heard what Tom wanted them to. They said they were a study group, today they were 'studying' Charms.
To everyone at the table, however, they were talking about family treasures and soul separations.
Outside the sun was bright, a warm and fragrant breeze blew in through the window, carrying the faint sound of laughter with it. Tom didn't realize that the table had fallen silent, not until the focus of everyone was on him.
He turned away from the window. "What is it?"
"Is everything alright, my lord?" Collins was a Ravenclaw, but his loyalty had always been absolute. He was one of Tom's best information seekers and like the other Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs in the group, helped solidify Tom's persona of a man of the people.
"Of course." Tom started, instantly aggrieved that his followers were acting out, until he took in the rest of the table, all the matching looks of worry for either him or themselves, should his mood prove volatile.
"You do seem distracted," Avery said at his side. Of everyone there only he would feel confident enough to push any boundary Tom might have.
"I'm fine. Please, Orion, continue." Tom said, placing his hands firmly on the worn wood of the table. Orion looked around nervously before picking up his tale about an old book his father was trying to buy, he claimed it was a memoir of an old and powerful Dark Wizard that had been stricken from history. Tom found this suspect for many reasons, not least of all that Light Wizards' were always so eager to talk about their accomplishments. Anyone who could have taken down the a Dark Wizard never passed up the chance to brag about it endlessly. If there were no accounts of his downfall, of his reign, then he couldn't have been that powerful of a wizard.
That did not mean he was not interested in reading this book. Only that he doubted it was anything special.
Orion's amelodic voice droned on, and when Tom blinked and saw trees and sun once more even he had to admit his mind was wandering. He rubbed absently at his chest, at a pressure there he couldn't quite identify. It had begun about half an before and as he sat there it only seemed to grow. Not unpleasant just...odd.
Someone walked through the barrier of his spell, it rippled across his skin as it was triggered. The table fell silent as the spell chimed, alerting everyone that someone outside of their group was approaching, but it was only Alphard. He rushed up to the table, completely out of breath and looking as though he'd been through a tornado.
"Sorry, sorry," he gasped, hunching over he pressed his hands to table to steady himself and catch his breath. "Sorry, I lost time."
"Just sit!" Orion growled, gripping Alphard's robes and pulling him into a seat. The only time there was any spunk to Orion's voice was when he was dealing with his wayward cousin.
"I am sorry," Alphard said, he was still a bit out of breath. "Harry and I were flying and then I fell, and had to fight off a hoard of third years!"
"Save it for later," Abraxas said in his bored, imperious way. "We have a meeting to see to."
But Tom was more interested in Alphard's talks about flying and fighting children than Orion's droning about books. As casually as he could he cast his gaze around them trying to see if Harry was around as well, though he couldn't be invited to the table, Tom just wanted to see him.
He shook himself from that thought. Tom had never wanted anyone, he'd never longed for anyone's attention or company. Only their respect.
Orion opened his mouth to speak about that damned book once again, Tom cut him off. "Let's hear from someone else, shall we. Avery, your aunt has something you think will be of interest?" Avery's aunt worked with Grindelwald, she had all the best news from the front lines. Usually anything he had to say on that particular topic was something that could draw him in with ease.
Tom's gaze kept drifting back to the window, back to the sun and laughter. He ended up calling the meeting short, unable to give even Avery his attention. First meetings were more of a formality anyway, he needed to take note of who showed up and how eager they were to take up their position as a Knight, see if anyone had any recruits in mind. All of which had been accomplished, which made the meeting a success, even with Tom's personal failings.
It was probably just lack of sleep. That would explain why his emotions had started to run away with him. It wasn't even that bad, really. Just a little distracting. All throughout dinner he kept focusing down the table, not realizing that he was watching Harry and Alphard until several minutes of doing so. This new...lightness, to his emotions was doing some interesting things to his outlook. The air around the table was strangely effervescent, there seemed to be a bit more laughter and light. Even Harry smiled and talked with budding animation to those around him. The pale green silk of his robes brought out the brightness of his eyes, and even though they still looked tired, he appeared livelier than he had since Tom had known him.
He shook himself again, there was conversation around him, hesitant along with worrying looks from his Knights, which he soundly ignored to focus on his plate for the rest of dinner. He was fine. It was nothing that some sleep wouldn't help.
Sunday evenings he went straight to the DADA room to help Professor Merrythought with her lesson plans. After two years of helping her he could do the work himself...in his sleep...she hadn't changed the curriculum much in that time, and any improvements were usually of Tom's own doing.
For the whole time he was in the classroom he felt almost normal again. The fuzzy pressure behind his breast bone was less pressing, and his mind a little clearer. The room was back to its usual dark quality as the sun quickly set. It was the most clearheaded he'd felt since waking. He chose to stay a bit to late to work on the mounds of files that Merrythought never threw out, and only minimally kept in order, so it was already quite late when he arrived back to the Slytherin common room.
It was mostly empty, only few stragglers who were trying to wrap up last minute assignments before their morning classes were in still milling about. He would need to have a talk with his Prefects about making sure this didn't become a recurring event. He wouldn't tolerate his House falling behind.
Most of the rooms to the dorms were snuggly closed and the denizens within presumably sleeping soundly. There were ways, of course, to see if everyone was following the rules regarding bedtime per age group, but it was a time consuming ritual that would need to be applied to each bed in the dorms, and Tom honestly didn't care that much. So long as everyone was up on time it was hardly his problem if they chose to stay up late.
The Prefect rooms were still opened, they wouldn't close their doors until everyone else was in their room. Tom peeked inside the boy's room when he passed, they were a step above the normal rooms with larger beds that had sturdy partitions between them for privacy. The Head Boy room was a step above even that, the bed was much larger, the giant wooden frame and accompanying furniture sported wondrous carvings much like the ones on the dormitory door. Besides the furniture and the absolute privacy, his room was much like the others. The ceiling was a large window to the lake above, his bath was larger than he needed, and he had a small sofa and chair for lounging.
Such opulence could easily become common place when one was exposed to it for so long, and going on seven years many would assume that Tom had begun to taking it for granted.
But he would never forget the orphanage, as much as he wanted to. He would never forget what it was like having to fight over blankets and clothes. Even his flat in Diagon Alley was far more modest than anything Hogwarts chose to the throw at its students.
Tom closed the door behind him, setting his personal wards against it with a lazy wave of his hand. The room was absolutely silent, warm from whatever charms were set in the floors and walls to keep the chill at bay, it felt massive as he stood there alone.
He went about his nightly routine as usual, taking care in his grooming and the setting out of his clothes for easy access in the morning. He pulled back the duvet, stretched out in the middle of the bed, extinguished the lights with a thought, and cleared his mind.
It had been years since he needed to actively meditate to fall asleep, since he'd needed any help centering himself for rest or magical purposes at all, but the techniques came back to him instantly. Deep even breathes, relaxing each part of his body one molecule at a time until he was weightless and free.
Once he was centered he allowed his mind to drift. There was nothing else he needed to accomplish in this mediation other than falling asleep, though such deep states of relaxation were excellent for self healing and walking the Astral plane.
It was difficult to tell time when mediating. The seconds sped up and slowed down without his control, so he could not be sure when exactly he became aware that he was still awake, only that he had been floating in nothing for a while without actually falling asleep.
There was something else there. The thing that he been nagging at him all day. It had been subtle before, a fuzzy warmth that had brightened his mood and the day around him. He had known of its presence as one might take notice of a particularly vibrant flower or chittering bird, it had been enough that he took note, but not persistent enough to draw his full attention.
It was still there, this fuzzy, rumbling, something that poked and peeled at his senses, only now it was different. Instead of filling him with warmth and happiness it now itched, chaffing at his nerves in a way that didn't require his immediate attention, but was undoubtedly the thing keeping him awake.
Now that he was alone in his own mind, the distractions of life faded away to nothing, allowing him to find this source of distraction, he couldn't turn away from it.
He swept his awareness over his physical form, still stretched out on his large bed. He wasn't ill or injured, there was nothing physically wrong with him at all, which meant turning his third eye inside himself. Meditation wasn't an absence of emotion, it simply put enough distance between his mind and his body that emotions were slow to reach him. So he was only mildly irritated rather than furious at having to do such a examination on himself.
It took him a moment to find the thing, it was little and not actually a part of him so much as something hanging onto him from afar. He followed this entity, this little bit of...something, that was clinging to his essence. His soul. At least now he understood why he'd had such trouble finding it before, it felt very similar to his own soul, disturbingly so. Was it a lingering piece of the Horcrux? Some bit that had managed to hang onto him and not go fully into the book? He had never read that such a thing could happen, but there was so much that wasn't written about the making and maintaining of Horcruxes that he couldn't be positive that wasn't it.
As he followed this gossamer thread it grew larger, brighter. The emotions pouring from it also became clearer, they were agitated, angry and sad all in one. At the end of the thread was a...well a blob. It was the only way he could think to describe it. Nothing else around him held any substance, he could only sense himself and whatever, or whoever, this was. He wasn't even sure he was on the Astral plane anymore and not somewhere entirely different.
There was nothing else, just him and this bright blob that felt so familiar. It reacted to Tom's presence, growing brighter and warmer as he drew near, pulsing sadly as he pulled away. He couldn't say what he was doing, maybe he was discovering a new form of magic, some sort of soul magic maybe. He pressed his consciousness against this other entity, it was soft and warm, he sank into it like a heated bath, or caring embrace. For a second, or an eternity, he was surrounded by bright light and the scent of a sun drenched meadow in spring, then...
He was on a beach.
The sun was low, just a glimmer on the horizon, everything was grey and washed out. Tom began to walk down the shore, cold wet sand squished beneath his feet, between his bare toes as the wind nipped his nightshirt around his knees. After a quick thought he was dressed properly in casual black robes and shoes. He smirked to himself as he made his way down the deserted beach. This was a dream. Not one of his, but a dream all the same. It was as easy to manipulate as his own had been.
Tom walked on, and as in the way of dreams, one second he was alone on the empty stretch of sand and the next he was not. Further down the beach there was a figure, clothed in dull black, crouching in the sand.
He was only a little surprised to see that the figure was Harry when he was closer. Who else could pull him from sleep into their own dreams than the boy that had plagued his waking thoughts as well?
Tom watched Harry paw around in the sand for a few minutes before kneeling down to his level. The movement catching Harry's attention, he looked up with pained green eyes, not at all surprised to see Tom there, and said. "I can't find it!" His voice was hoarse, the wind had tugged his hair into a mess of curls. The robes he wore were threadbare, frayed and ripped.
"Find what, Harry?" Tom asked, there was no point in looking around for whatever it was. This was a dream, quite possibly Harry's nightmare, whatever he was looking for would not appear.
"The locket. She gave it to me...it sent me here. If I find it..." Harry had begun sifting through the sand once more in his panic.
Tom took one of Harry's hands, brought it to his chest and met Harry's gaze, steady and calm. "This is a dream, Harry." He squeezed Harry's hand, it was small and frozen to the touch, coarse sand gritted against his soft skin. "Just a dream, it isn't real."
"A..dream...?" Harry asked hesitantly.
"That's right," Tom smiled and took control of the dream, the world, around them. The sun rose, golden and bright, thick springy grass rose from the sand all around them, the ocean became a gentle, winding stream, and trees and flower sprung from the ground. The air filled with the sweet fragrance of roses and birdsong. "See?"
Harry gasped, looking around them in wonder, "It's like...like before, when you." He turned back to Tom, his eyes bright. He hadn't taken his hand back. "Are you real?" Harry's hair was still wild, his dull torn robes so outstandingly out of place now that they were off that dreadful beach.
Tom smiled down at him, holding his hands so they warmed up in his own. "Of course I am," he laughed softly at Harry inquisitive look, "You were keeping me awake."
"But how...why?"
"I don't know," Tom took hold of the dream world once more, and now they were sitting on a thick quilt with a several cushions nearby if they wanted them. "We can figure it out later, yes? It isn't important right now."
"...I suppose..." Harry shifted on the quilt, his hands finally falling out of Tom's as he moved to a more comfortable position.
Tom would not mourn the loss of delicate hands in how own, instead he followed Harry's lead, taking a few of the cushions to prop up against as he leaned back to watch the sky above. "Get some rest, Harry, we can figure this out in the morning."
When there was no reply Tom looked back, Harry had fallen into the pile of cushions and was fast asleep, slowly his robes faded from dusty black to a glowing crimson, the stress that always hung around him smoothed out. In his sleep Harry looked peaceful. Safe and content.
Tom wasn't sure if one could dream within a dream, but he would be there for Harry if he needed him. Tom was tired as well, but his body was resting soundly in its room. Whether he allowed a dream to take him or chose to fall into the void like usual, he would wake well rested in the morning.
They both would.
And if Tom chose to remain cognizant, to stay up and watch Harry rest instead getting the night over with as quickly as possible, well, it wasn't as though anyone else needed to know.