Harry Potter and the Time Fluke

Offering Forgiveness

Unfortunately, life hated him. By noon the next day, over half the school believed him to be Slytherin's heir... again. And this time, he hadn't even revealed that he could speak Parseltongue, or shown up in the wrong place at the wrong time with a petrified body or two.

And it was all the fault of those two girls. Those two, stupid, annoying, gossipy Gryffindor girls. If he were on speaking terms with Tom, he'd have the older boy send the basilisk after them immediately, cackling maliciously in the background as he watched their bodies be gobbled up rather than left to dirty a hospital bed.

By the end of the week, over two-thirds of the school believed him to be the heir because he was always alone, and he had no alibi for the second attack. Honestly, he was becoming quite fed up with the student population of Hogwarts. Even a few of the younger Slytherins were suspicious of him. A group of over-eager Gryffindor fourth year boys, hoping to achieve recognition by catching him in the act, had taken to stalking him around the castle. The only joy that came from his days now was taking sadistic pleasure in losing his group of self-proclaimed guards, or shooting stinging hexes at them while they weren't looking. He relished the fact that they had yet to prove he was their attacker.

He would occasionally see friends looking at him with a small amount of pity in their eyes, and more than once he'd stumbled across Dmitry defending him against the claims of the other students, though the other boy didn't know he knew. Every time he found Dmitry laying into another student or group of students, the guilt on his shoulders got a little bit heavier. That was why, by the time the second week was halfway over, he'd decided to make up with his Russian friend.

Plus, Harry thought in anticipation behind the curtains of his bed as he waited for the rest of his dorm mates to shut their own, he was just following the orders of an older, more powerful Slytherin. And that's just how Slytherin politics work. Not that he liked or approved of it. He wouldn't lie; the complicated workings of Slytherin House often made him crave the simplicity of Gryffindor.

Once he was absolutely certain that all the hangings of the other Slytherins beds were closed, he quietly opened his and stealthily crept out. Dmitry's bed was just next to his, so he didn't have to travel very far. He took out his wand.

"Muffliato." There was no need for the other boys to know anything about the conversation soon to take place. Harry placed his wand back on his bed and closed his hangings to give the illusion that he was still inside before moving to pass through Dmitry's charmed ones. Harry carefully crawled through and onto Dmitry's bed.

As soon as he felt the dip in pressure, Dmitry's eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright. Anything he was about to say was silenced as his eyes took in the figure now seated atop his covers.

"Harry?" he tentatively asked. "Not that I'm complaining or anything, but what are you doing in my bed?"

The corner of Harry's mouth quirked up in amusement. "I want to talk."

"Now?" Dmitry half-whined. "You've been avoiding me for the past near-month, and you want to talk now?"

"Well, I could leave–"

"No, no," Dmitry quickly shook his head. "We can talk, I guess..." He blinked somewhat sleepily at Harry. "Does this mean your not cross with me anymore?"

Harry's eyes softened at the hope he saw on Dmitry's face. "No, I'm not mad at you. Honestly, it was Tom who I was really pissed at. My anger just sort of... rolled over onto you, Orion, and Abraxas I suppose. Then, couple that with the jealousy I felt because Tom trusted you all more than he trusted me, and we get the gigantic mess that has been the past few weeks."