Fineshine

.

He stays there, lying still on the earth in the aftermath of what is most certainly the biggest miscalculation -a near fatal error- in his life.

Not since his duel with Albus and his irritating brother had he ever come so close to serious injury. Never has he been so close to his own death.

The aftershocks of the killing curse, of Avada Kedavra, still ricochet in the air around him, sitting heavy upon his skin and doing nothing to numb the unadulterated shock that vibrates though him. If anything, it only amplifies it.

The courtyard is still silent, and he knows it will remain so for a while, given the fact he ensured that none would get between his encounter with Harry today, as his meeting had when they met within America.

The image of her stepping out of the fireplace, of her jumping in shock at the sound of his voice, replays through his head once more. It refuses to cooperate, to merge with the event that occurred not minutes ago.

Of the killing curse engulfing Harry's form, wrapping around her more surely than any form of clothing ever had, highlighting that there was something so incredibly different about this scintillating woman.

He'd sensed it, on an unconscious level when they met in the halls of America. He had just failed to understand the breadth and depths with which she came.

Virescent light had rebounded, reflected back from Harry's catoptric form. Even though she had raised that wall of earth, had blocked his own curse from taking his life in payment, tactual magic stung at every nerve ending within his body. The sheer power still pains his every sense.

He can recall the way aestival autumn hair had danced around Harry's face, brilliant green eyes muting as the light of the killing curse dispersed.

But she had been alive, stood there as if doing such a thing was not in any way aberrant, as if she had not just perverted the very laws of magic. The epitome of all power in the world.

And yet, she had walked away from him, a dismissal. She had spared his life from his own rash, self-assured actions, and then she had walked away.

Leaving him laid, staring up at the empyrean that stretched above his head. A position from which he had yet to move, as his body protests movement but his mind finally starts to race. The shock is wearing off, giving way to awe and veneration. He had wondered.

Harriet Potter was a young woman with a young ward who depended upon her. Had anything happened to her, then while her wealth may have -may, Gellert was unsure of their familial relation, if there was any at all- gone to the boy, he would have no caretaker. She would leave him in a such a fragile position if they were ever attacked.

But now, comprehension has dawned, if belated in its arrival. Harriet Potter- No, that's not right.

Harry.

Harry has no need for a man to protect her for she seems inordinately overqualified to fulfil that role herself.

Oh, but it had been magnificent.

His blood roars with the realization that Harry is perhaps the most dangerous game he has played to date. That he is currently on the defensive, would have lost completely had she been more ruthless, a little more cutthroat.

He had toyed with the idea of keeping her around, of having an adversary in his conquest of the world.

But, he had allocated -perhaps foolishly, certainly prematurely- such a role to Albus; given their history, his eventual victory over the Hogwarts alumni would be more poetic.

Now though, it seems he had no choice but to accept Harry as a combatant in this war.

Suddenly, the control has fallen from his grasp, slipped like an incorporeal spectre through his fingers.

This was no longer going to be played on his terms.

Now, it is in fact a brilliant battle of wits, of Harry v Gellert and excitement courses through him.

Above all, before he decided upon being a Dark Lord, before he decided to gather to Hollows, he had always coveted knowledge. It was why he'd been expelled after all, those experiments on the other students. They'd participated willingly…

After a bit of time beneath his wand, that was.

Regardless, everything in him now calls to learn, to understand what Harry is. For she is most certainly not a regular witch.

He yearns to understand how she deflected the killing curse, why it seems to have increased its power as it danced around her. He wants to know why she saved his life, even after declaring she would fight against his cause.

And there is, after all, only one way that he will gain his answers.

.

.

Tom Riddle snaps to attention at the knock of the door.

He shares a questioning glance with Spot, who is as aware as Tom that no one really knocks at their door. Everyone of interest arrives by floo, and those not of interest fail to arrive at all.

Reaching for his wand, Tom cocks it slightly between his fingers in the ready position, well aware that he should call Harry down from upstairs. He's well aware that he should not open the door to strangers.

But he's not an ignorant orphan anymore.

He has Harry, and he has a magical education, and he's also quite curious. Because, as was concluded earlier; no one knocks at their door.

Spot follows after him in the floor, slithering forwards and with all of his attention focused entirely upon what lays beyond the entranceway. As lazy as the diapsid is, he takes his task of protecting Tom -appointed to him by Harry, of course- very seriously.

Centring himself, Tom pulls open the door, and stares up at the man that stands before him with narrowed eyes.

He's hauntingly good looking.

Hiemal blond hair, appearing as if it's been frozen in place by colds that Tom cannot even begin to imagine top this man's head, and hoarfrost eyes peer down at him from above frowning lips.

They stare at one another for a second, and Spot takes that moment to, unhelpfully, hiss that perhaps it would be prudent to call Harry down.

He doesn't need to though, because he can hear her coming down the stairs behind him. It'll be three seconds, tops, before she sees the open door at the interloper that stands upon their porch.

The man gives a smile, more of a deceptive smirk really, and goes to speak.

Clearly though, Harry catches sight of him, because the next second Tom is being wrenched back by the strong grasp of Harry's magic that clutches tight to his ribs.

She's between the two of them before Tom has even finished being pulled back and away, her wand raised and pointed unnervingly straight at the stranger.

He's never seen Harry like this, never seen her this serious and tense and clearly readying for battle.

Who was this stranger to set off such a reaction within Harry? When had she even had the time to meet someone who threw her off balance so much?

As if to answer his own question, his brain throws up the memory of Harry bustling into the house, wrapping him up tight in her arms as if she could cage him in a protective layer, as if she could keep the whole world from ever hurting him.

In all honesty, he's not entirely sure she's incapable of such a thing.

The man seems to agree, as he has taken a step back, has raised his hands in surrender.

Tom doesn't think that the hesitation and slight flash of caution is all in his mind.

Harry has done something to put this stranger -this man that transuded danger- on edge. But not enough to avoid her completely. Unfortunately.

"Come now Harry, I do believe we are passed this. It's not as if I could actually do any damage, as it turns out."

He speaks with an accent, European, certainly. Tom doesn't know enough about the different countries of that continent to say for sure, but it tinges with what is perhaps a lick of German. And now he too is on his highest guard, even if he'd have to get around Harry to fire a curse at this man -this man that knows Harry, how does he know Harry?- and there is perhaps a higher chance of Harry going on a murdering spree than there is of her letting the two of them get a clear shot at each other.

"Try anything against Tom and I'll obliterate you." Her voice is tired, begrudging. But she speaks with such surety that it takes Tom aback.

The stranger smiles, a genuine thing this time, and gives an aureate gesture with one hand to show he is completely unarmed.

"Of that, I have no doubt."

And he's still smiling, even though he seems to truly believe that failing to please Harry would lead to his total annihilation.

He can't see Harry's face, what with her stood between him and the stranger, but Tom notes the repose of her shoulders.

"Tom, take Spot outside please."

It's a dismissal, and fury burns in his stomach at the thought. Whatever this stranger is to Harry, she doesn't want him anywhere near Tom. Was he an enemy? But then why would he come so clearly unarmed?

The stranger clearly doesn't see Harry as only an enemy, if the way his gaze sharpens as it falls upon her, the way his lips tilt at the sight of her.

"You said you'd take me shopping," Tom is quick to point out. Even though he'd said he didn't want to go not ten minutes past, things had changed now. He wanted Harry away from this stranger who looked at her like that, and he wanted him to leave right now.

Harry looks over her shoulder at him, cardinal hair falling around her shoulders with the movement.

"We'll go in ten minutes, this won't take long."

She says it with certainty, even as the man's face falls at the mention of a time limit.

Tom nods, Spot coiling back with him.

It's not like Harry won't tell him what's going on if he asks, Harry doesn't keep anything from him. Still though, he dislikes this stranger who has so carelessly invaded their safe haven, who watches Harry with his lambent eyes.

"I have a plethora of questions, and you, my dear, have given me so little time for answers."

It is the last thing Tom hears before he steps outside, and his teeth grind.

It seems like it'd take a bit of effort to drive this one off. Though Tom had yet to find a challenge he could not conquer once his mind was set upon it.

And oh, was his mind now set.

I swore to myself I'd leave this as a one shot. I really did.

But then the next chapter came out, and the little HarryxGellert AU was wrote and I knew I couldn't not add a little more because I'm so veyr invested in this world Slexenskee has created.

So this is how the transition would happen between Crawlersout and begin again (both by Slexenskee) in my own personally opinion.

No more after this. Get me to write my own GellertxHarry if I even think about it. Please.

Tsume
xxx