Disclaimer is in the first chapter. I hope you enjoy!

A Chance in Time

Chapter 17 – Interactions

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"Listen; there's a hell of a good universe next door: let's go." – E. E. Cummings.

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oOo

The next day (and the days after that) still consisted of stilted conversations, awkward timing and embarrassing clumsiness between Harry and his three dorm mates. More so on Harry's part. Even more awkward was the fact that other than Danilo Zabini, Harry still didn't know the names of the other occupants of the room. They avoided eye contact and had oddly passive faces. Harry still didn't know who the occupant of the last bed belonged to but he knew one thing, the inhabitant had not been in this dorm since Harry had arrived.

The empty canopied bed sat opposite his and was nearest to the large faux window that mimicked the view under the Great Lake (and presumably the Giant Squid) and mostly had the curtains pulled shut around the bed. Since he had been staying in the dorms, Harry had not seen the bed being used, but he did notice several knick-knacks that indicated that it did belong to someone: a school jumper hanging over the edge of the bed, two pairs of shoes tucked underneath the bed, a stack of books peaking behind the closed curtains. And the only reason he noticed all of this was because his other dorm mates kept surreptitiously glancing at it throughout the day.

Why? Did it belong to a friend? Did something happen to the boy that slept in that bed? Did they push him away with all their blank starring and raised eyebrows?

Other than his initial notice of this happening, Harry didn't really think about it again…until later that morning when he finally realised the identity of this last roommate.

The day had started out as it did yesterday, except Harry went straight to the Great Hall by himself without waiting around for Zabini and his lot to ignore him. It was quite early; breakfast hadn't even been laid out yet. The Great Hall was quite empty, but some of the professors were hanging around the entrance. Upon seeing him, they stopped talking and just…well…they stared. None of them said a word, as Harry stretched his lips into a semblance of a smile and walked past them whilst pretending to be searching through his bag. He tried not to make eye contact with Professor Potter but that didn't stop the older man from drilling a hole into the back of his head with his intense stare.

By the time Harry finally made it to his table and picked out his books for revising his nearing exams, the professors seemed to have remembered themselves and began their quiet talking once again. Harry had a strange inkling he knew what they were talking about.

The next forty-five minutes were spent panicking a little over Herbology, as Harry noticed that there were some "facts" listed in the books that were actually false in the future upon re-investigations. He could see why they believed some of the things listed in the books, but some of these suggestions were utterly insane. For example, it was common knowledge where he came from that seeds from the wiggentree did not refuse to grow during winter, their growth just slowed down. With a grimace, Harry realised that he had to pretend to not know all of this.

"Well, you look like crap."

Harry looked up to see Yaxley staring down at him, hands buried in his trouser pockets. He was on his own which was weird. Yaxley was clearly the dumb puppy to McDougal's talent and Mulciber's intellect and therefore couldn't be trusted on his own. Harry wasn't sure that the poor dumb-arse would even survive without them.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled, barely looking at him. He knew he looked like crap, because once again he had haunted dreams, guilt over leaving Tom with Mr and Mrs Dark Arts, weird roommates and looming exams. He was sure his appearance was frightening; walking around in black jeans (which most of the purebloods – which was pretty much the majority of the school – stared at as if the pair of jeans were just scandalous) and a hooded jumper which covered a plain t-shirt. And at best his hair looked raggedy, at worse it was a bird's nest.

"Danilo and his lot said that you'd probably be down here already," he continued.

"Did they," Harry replied back, running his fingers through his hair and bouncing his knee up and down. He refused to treat Yaxley like nothing happened, but he also refused to acknowledge his existence unless he was asked a direct question by him. Not because he was giving the bastard the benefit of the doubt, but because doing so would keep less attention on him – Harry was already recognised for being a trouble-maker.

Last night after the tutorial that Yaxley gave, the boy did not leave Harry's side. In fact, he was practically glued to his side that even his other Death Eater trainee friends noticed (but did not comment). He kept trying to engage Harry in silly conversation that meant nothing but something. It was like he realised that he may have said something stupid to Harry and wanted to make sure that there were no hard feelings.

"Um," the blond boy started, "Do you want to go through potions again today?"

Harry looked up, eyebrows raised and disappearing into his fringe. "No," he said. As if he'd ever agree to that again. "Thank you."

It looked like the other boy wanted to say more but a large hand clapped onto his shoulder

"Christopher! How are you my dear boy?" Professor Slughorn exclaimed jovially.

"Oh," Yaxley said surprised at his sudden presence, but managed to plaster on a wide smile. "I'm doing well, Professor, and yourself?"

It was as Slughorn was replying that the food finally appeared on the House dining tables. Not wanting to be dragged into unnecessary small talk (or worse, get invited to the Slug Club), Harry quickly grabbed two pears and some sort of pastry before hightailing it out of the Great Hall. It was a shame that he couldn't grab a mug of tea before he left.

On his way out, Harry noticed Zabini and his other dorm mates finally making their way towards the Great Hall entrance. For once, they seemed relaxed – though they were still aloof and reserved and just the poster children for Slytherin (Who Were Up To Something). Next to them stood Harry's detention buddy, Elden LeStrange who looked as approachable as ever. Looking up, he happened to lock eyes with Harry, sneering he whispered something to the others next to him who all snickered.

The bastards.

Harry rolled his eyes and continued to walk past them and just when LeStrange neared him, he forcefully bumped his shoulder against Harry's. Harry looked back and saw LeStrange smirking as if daring him to say something, even so much as slowing down his walk. The little snot clearly wanted to start a confrontation. In the corridors in front of professors, no less. Harry snorted lightly; this is Slytherin's so-called prince?

Harry turned and continued his journey to the library when he heard one of the boys ask LeStrange a question that cleared everything up for Harry whilst simultaneously making Harry feel as though his stomach was eating his heart.

"When are you coming back to our dorm, Elden?"

Well damn.

oOo

Fate was against him today. Why else would Professor Potter be in charge of his and LeStrange's detention? Perhaps it was a coincidence. Perhaps, Professor Dumbledore was too busy, or ill. Or couldn't be bothered. Perhaps Professor Potter enjoyed overseeing detentions given to Slytherins. Perhaps the world was out to get Harry. Who's to say?

But regardless, it was quite difficult to just sit there opposite the man whilst LeStrange sat next to him on his left playing the innocent victim. Harry had simply gotten on with the task at hand (scrubbing the crap – literally – out of inactivated portkeys so that they could be recycled by the seventh year students to create…more portkeys). During which, LeStrange never stopped his incessant whining about the lack of justice in the situation, about why he was lobbed into this detention with the pathetic excuse for a Slytherin (i.e. Harry).

Throughout all this, Professor Potter never said a word, simply raising an eyebrow at the boy whilst Harry kept his head down and picked at stubborn dirt off the portkeys. Occasionally, the man would raise his head to observe their one-sided argument, where he sat grading the homework in front of him, when LeStrange would say something personal about Harry. And through it all, Harry wondered why the man never intervened. Yes, alright he would say something along the lines of "That's enough, Mr LeStrange" or even "Mind your manners, Mr LeStrange" (which was hilarious) but he just let them get on with it.

Was he waiting for Harry to defend himself? Is that how it worked in this time period? To let them just get on with it? Or was it simply that LeStrange could do no wrong? Because he was the prince. Regardless. Harry wouldn't stoop so low – his anger had gotten him into trouble far too many times. He could control himself around this pompous arse. He could. Probably not. But he could damn well try.

"– most likely due to his breeding and schooling, or lack there off."

Was this supposed to offend him?

"– brought up in an orphanage, can you even believe that?"

Harry heaved a large sigh that was quite exaggerated, resulting in a quirk of the professor's lips that looked suspiciously like he was trying to hide a smile.

"– though I heard that his father is a mudblood and his mother a whore, so what do you except, really?"

Harry paused in his cleaning, feeling as if he'd just been slapped in the face. He could hear Professor Potter addressing LeStrange and threatening him with another detention for his words. But Harry had had enough – hearing those words reminded him a lot of how Vernon Dursley used to pick on his dead parents. Harry slowly turned to face him.

"What did you say?" he asked quietly, though really there was no point, the professor would surely hear everything. To be honest, Harry wasn't really offended. These weren't his parents that were being ridiculed. It was because of that word, mudblood, how many times had he heard that word being flung about since he got here? Why didn't anyone get into trouble for saying it?

LeStrange scoffed. "Are you deaf as well as blind, four-eyes?"

"Is that supposed to offend me, you little shit?"

"Wha – ?"

"I'm going to make this very clear and easy for you, OK? Because apparently, you love the sound of your own voice," Harry began. "If you mention my parents. Simply mention them. Refer to their parentage. Breathe a word, good or bad with regards to them –"

LeStrange let out a surprised squawk of anger.

"…then…I guess, I will just have to write a very disappointed letter to your father," he titled his head sideways, as if pretending to think. "Or perhaps I should write one to your uncle, hmm?"

LeStrange seemed to turn from tomato-red to pale-white. His fingers tightened against the brush that he was holding as if he suddenly remembered where he knew Harry from. As if he suddenly remembered what Harry had done. Harry's gut felt heavy as it twisted itself up in remembrance of the blood, the sound of a body hitting the floor, Tom's screams, a large hand being pressed without mercy against his windpipe –

Silence rang for a while during which LeStrange resembled a statue and Harry kept his gaze fixed on his expression…as he cleaned the dirty portkeys.

"Mr White? Mr LeStrange?" Professor Potter asked quietly, as if afraid to disturb the silence that rose from Harry's threat.

"Just letting LeStrange know how good it was to meet his father and uncle at a bookstore recently, Professor," Harry said. "Gosh, it was lovely to speak to them about literature, I do so love reading. Don't you, LeStrange? I distinctly remember seeing you at the book shop, too. With another gentleman. What was his name, again?"

LeStrange remained frozen as he looked up at their professor (who was apparently an ex-Auror), with panic in his eyes. Harry could see his throat move as he swallowed thickly and glanced at Harry sideways.

"Can't seem to recall," he finally said.

"Pity," Harry said, with a faux resigned expression. "It would be nice to see them again."

oOo

LeStrange managed to enter the common room before Harry, giving him enough time to tell his cronies a couple of things that made them stare at Harry when he entered after him.

LeStrange obviously didn't get enough time to explain everything that happened during the detention, but what he did say was enough to request an impromptu meeting outside of the common room, as they all stood up and left as one. Which was very subtle.

Harry smiled sweetly at them as they walked passed; for the first time ever feeling that it might be fun play-acting as a Slytherin. He'd never smirked before; maybe he could give it a try.

When his dorm mates left, Harry finally noticed that the common room was actually quite full. Yesterday, his first day in Slytherin House, left Harry mostly alone (with the exception of that limpet, Yaxley), making the House appear more quiet than he was used to in his experience at Hogwarts. However, today the common room was alive and busy and more lived in. And unlike yesterday, there were a variety of age groups today.

By the time he realised that he had been standing by the entrance for too long contemplating today's variation, several of the students had begun to stare at him. Just before he decided that yes, he was making a spectacle of himself standing in the same spot for ages with a weird smirk on his lips, he heard giggling just as he noticed a black kneazle approaching him. The feline was walking around Harry's still form, smelling his legs and occasionally butting his head against him.

"He wants you to pet him," said a young girl's voice. The girl was sitting on the floor, on a beautifully intricate rug next to the large fire.

"Oh," Harry said, "alright." He reached a hand to let the cat sniff him before swiping his knuckles gently over the cat's head and neck. The cat began to purr very loudly as it stood up on its hind legs to press soft front paws against Harry's thigh.

Some of the girls surrounding the young girl began to giggle as well. There wasn't a real reason for them to be giggling at a boy who was petting a cat – a kneazle, whatever – but they looked like first years, and everyone knew that first year girls giggled at anything and everything.

"I think he likes you," said one of the girls.

"He looks like you!" said another, blushing fiercely. "Black hair and green eyes."

Harry smiled lightly at her as he and the kneazle gained more attention.

"The black cat of Slytherin!"

"Which one?"

"Both, silly! Either. No offence, White, but you really are different from the rest of us. You stick out like a sore thumb!"

Whoops.

"We could call them Slytherin and Mini-Slytherin!"

"Ewww."

"No, no, we could name him Slytherin's cat!"

"He can't be Slytherin's cat, he belongs to Kit!"

Who the heck was Kit?

"Are you stealing my kneazle, Sebastian?" said a voice behind him, only to see Yaxley smirking as the kneazle in question deserted Harry and made his way towards the blond boy. Behind him stood Mulciber and McDougal who were looking amused.

"Kit?" Harry asked.

At that Yaxley shrugged. "I have lots of nicknames."

"He has two nicknames," McDougal said as he walks passed them.

"Figures he'd be yours," Harry said. "He thinks he's just a self-entitled as you do."

The boys and some others laughed whilst Yaxley smile dropped slightly – obviously remembering yesterday's encounter. Harry smirked back.

Yes, it might be fun playing the Slytherin.

oOo

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"I've played many characters that have consumed me and owned me." Irrfan Khan

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oOo

"Harrison?"

"Hi Martin," the boy said, startled by his big brother's presence. He wondered if he would get into trouble for being out past curfew this time.

"What are you doing out of bed?

"Are you asking as Professor Potter or as my big brother?" the seventh year student said as he slowed down his walk. He had just finished coming out of the library from a long day of revision, his friends having left long ago. That's just what he did these days since sleeping was becoming a chore.

"As your big brother," Martin said after a pause. Harrison thought that the man looked tired today; his limp quite obvious as he walked beside him.

Harrison sighed as he cast a glance at the once-Auror. "It's just that…Father said mother was doing better, didn't he?"

Martin slowed down to a complete stop to massage the muscle just above his knee. "That's what he said."

"Do you believe him?" he said, stopping as well and leaning against the wall.

Martin released a large breath as he straightened up and looked at his younger brother. Everyone said that Martin looked more like their mother whilst Harrison looked more like their father, but standing here thinking and talking about their bed-ridden mother helped him see the resemblance pretty well. Harrison shared a lot of features with his mother.

"No, I don't," he finally said. "Do you?"

"No."

"Do you think they're lying to us?"

"I don't know. I thought maybe they'd tell you, even if they don't tell me."

"Oh, Harry," Martin said, leaning forward and tugging his brother towards him in a half embrace as they began walking again. "Why would they tell me and not you?"

"Because you're Martin Potter. Responsible, daring, heroic Martin Potter."

"Don't be silly."

"I can think of a bunch of other adjectives if you'd like –"

"Ha Ha. Look, I'll speak to them and find out what's happening. Maybe we could visit them on the weekend?"

Harrison sighed. "Alright." They slowly walked back to the Gryffindor common room in silence, stopping just before they reached the Fat Lady – the newest addition to Gryffindor security.

Briefly, Harrison thought about asking about the new Slytherin boy, who was actually a Slytherin and not just sorted as one, before he quickly changed his mind. Martin looked about ready to drop from the grief that his knee was giving him, and talking to him about what he thought of the new student was not the time right now.

In the meantime, Harrison could just stay curious about the boy. Sebastian White was his name, wasn't it?

oOo

Tom sat as still as he could on the edge of his bed whilst Lady Malfoy showed him all of the new things that she had bought for him. He was meant to be on a short break between lessons given by Aylwin to allow his students to just stretch their legs and go for a loo break, but Lady Malfoy found him walking around and dragged him off to his room. Abraxas had invited himself along simply because was nosy.

Now he sat here with Abraxas (who sat cross-legged on his bed with his manky shoes touching Tom's pillows) making excited faces and exclamations every time his mother pulled out something else from the several bags that littered Tom's room.

Tom felt a little overwhelmed. Yes, he knew that the Malfoys were rich. Yes, he still wasn't used to it all. But somehow, Tom didn't think that they would think of him enough to gift him a bunch of things.

"Tom, dearest, what do you think?" Lady Malfoy asked, holding up a beautiful set of navy robes that almost made Tom think that perhaps wearing robes wouldn't be a bad thing after all.

Tom nodded his approval, not trusting himself to speak his thanks.

Lady Malfoy's smile became softer as she noticed Tom's expression. Dropping the robes carefully on the back of a chair, she knelt down in front of him, taking his narrow face in both of her small hands.

"Tom," she began. "I hope that this isn't overwhelming to you. Mr Malfoy and I thought it best to make sure that you had all the vital necessities. And perhaps some that are not so vital. But you deserve them, Tom. All of them."

Looking into her bright, expressive eyes, Tom knew she was telling the truth. But…what if they wanted something in return? What if he had to pay them back for all of this? Sebastian couldn't afford all of this.

Oh God, what would Sebastian say if he saw all of this?

"Um, Auntie Eva," Tom began, still getting used to addressing her this way (and he only did address her this way to her face). "When can I see Sebastian?"

"Well –" she began but was interrupted by another voice.

"How about this weekend?" Mr Malfoy said, standing by the bedroom door. His gaze seemed to disregard everyone in the room apart from Tom. "It would be nice to him soon, no?"

"Yes, Mr Malfoy," because it would be nice. It would be wonderful even.

"Dearest, have you forgotten that Sebastian only has a few more days before his examinations? The boy would need this weekend to prepare himself –"

"I'm sure he will be fine, my dear."

"Yes, Preston," Lady Malfoy said with a resigned sigh after a pause, standing up and dusting her skirts with her fingers (not that there was anything to dust). He did that a lot, Mr Malfoy, always disregarding Lady's Malfoy's thoughts and suggestions as if his own were better.

"Evangeline tells me that you've received a letter from your brother?" the man asked, as he entered the bedroom. His hands lay clasped behind his back as his pale eyes took in the rest of the room. Tom didn't know what he was looking for as he had tried his hardest to keep the room looking as clean and tidy as the house elves left it, but Mr Malfoy was a sly little bugger so maybe he was noticing things that Tom hadn't.

"Yes, sir. Sebastian said he will be visiting soon but had to check with 'fessor Dumbledore on his first visit."

"How is he faring in his new school? I'm sure that he's fitting in nicely."

"I think so," he said slowly, though something told him that his brother was not enjoying himself at this point in time. "He said he got Sorted into Slytherin House."

Mr Malfoy laughed lightly as Lady Malfoy smiled in amusement. "It would have been a surprise if he was sorted elsewhere, wouldn't he, Tom?" she said. And now that he had read all about the Founders of Hogwarts, Tom really would have been surprised.

"Yes, Lady Malf – um, Auntie Eva."

Lady Malfoy stood up and began to lift up other clothing and books and…things (that he had no business owning or even touching), whilst her husband walked around Tom's bedroom looking here and there. For what, Tom didn't know.

Mrs Malfoy was telling them how Benji would not be staying over the weekend so it would just be Abraxas, Elliot and Tom for now to be tutored by Aylwin (Benji's mum had just given birth and although he was getting sick of all the crying at home all the time, he was obviously missing his parents. Screaming, smelly baby or no) when Mr Malfoy interrupted again to ask his wife about purchasing a wand for Tom – something to "practice on in the meantime."

"Well," she began. "I'm sure Tom would appreciate practicing what he's learnt from his classes. If we get one for Tom then he and Abraxas could learn from each other."

At this, Abraxas, who grew silent when his father had entered, released a whoop of excitement at the thought of practicing magic with someone other than Aylwin.

Tom frowned lightly in contemplation, still not sure about wandlore as yet, but keen to learn. Was he even ready?

"Do all witches and wizards have wands then?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, of course," Mr Malfoy began with a frown of his own. He must have realised that he was speaking to a child that was completely new to this world as he continued very patiently. "It makes it easier to direct our magic. I suppose it's not what was always used back when we had mages, but it was what Merlin preferred."

Tom continued to frown at this, thinking about his brother and how he handled magic. He had a wand, Tom had seen it, but he'd never seen it being used the way that Lady Malfoy and Mr Malfoy used it. Only occasionally did Sebastian felt the need to use his wand.

"I guess Sebastian doesn't like using a wand," he asked slowly, looking up at Mr Malfoy from under his fringe. "That's fine too, isn't it?"

Mr Malfoy seemed to freeze before his eyes. Slowly, he walked to stand in front of the boy.

"Sebastian does not use a wand?" he asked, his head cocked to one side.

"Um, not really. Only sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" Lady Malfoy asked obviously remembering the incident with the snake and her husband's challenge. There had been no wand use then, had there? Was that common for Sebastian, then?

"Yeah," Tom said. "I mean yes."

"He can perform magic without a wand?"

Tom nodded, biting on his bottom lip in thought. They weren't acting like he said something wrong, but they were certainly acting like he had surprised them.

Mr Malfoy finally smiled (a simple stretching of the corners of his lips), his expression reminding Tom of what a shark's smile might look like. "That's very interesting, Tom. Thank you for telling us."

Yep, he definitely surprised them.

A/N: I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. Tom makes another appearance, yay! And he will be with Sebastian (Harry) soon, double yay! I would be very grateful if you could take the time to review - they honestly make my day :) See you next time!