Harry Potter and the Time Fluke

House Elf Assistance

The clamor of pots and pans and the hustle and bustle of the house-elves bound to Hogwarts assaulted his senses as soon as he opened the portrait door. Smells of dinner being prepared made his stomach rumble, seeing as how he'd missed out on lunch by utilizing his time to search for Harry instead.

Immediately after his stomach emitted the sound of hunger, three house-elves had rushed over and pulled him to a small table in the corner, out of the way. Almost as soon as he was seated, three more elves carrying a large silver platter of fruits and cheese and a goblet of pumpkin juice came running and placed the food and drink in front of him.

"Would the young master Tom Riddle be wanting anything else?" squeaked an elf wearing a tea cozy like all the others.

"Actually, I was wondering if you could help me find someone," Tom said, grateful for the food and popping a grape into his mouth. He assumed it was the duty of the house-elves to know the identity of all who lived in the castle, and therefore didn't question how they knew his name.

There was a murmur amongst the gathered six, and the house-elf who had previously spoken said, "We's is not supposed to be helping students find students. We's is only supposed to be's bringing them foods."

Tom put on a helpless face and stared worriedly out at the creatures. "But it's terribly important that I find him quickly, and I'd be forever grateful if you could help."

The elf's eyes widened and it's ears twitched once... twice... and it shooed the other elves back to work.

"Fizzy has decided Fizzy will help the young master," the elf, Fizzy, said enthusiastically, turning back to Tom. "Who is it young master Tom Riddle wishes Fizzy to seek?"

"Harry Evans, if you don't mind."

"Oh, no, oh, no. Fizzy doesn't mind. Finding young master Harry Evans should be no problem!"

Tom watched as Fizzy's face screwed up in concentration. It took a moment, but soon there was a small pop signaling the house elf's disapparation. Tom relaxed into the too-small chair and quickly devoured the food he'd been given. He'd need the energy for whatever face-off he and Harry were about to have.

The minutes ticked by and the food slowly vanished. Tom was beginning to think that it was a lost cause to try and involve a house-elf, when Fizzy returned with another pop.

"Did you find him?" Tom asked excitedly, nearly stumbling over the words in his mouth.

"Fizzy did finds the young master," Fizzy began slowly, nervously. "But Fizzy doesn't think you can finds him since he doesn't wants to be found."

Tom's brows furrowed together. "What? Why not? Why can't you jest tell me where he is?"

"House-elves serves all the young masters at Hogwarts, but we serves the Headmaster the most. Young master Tom Riddle asks Fizzy to find young master Harry Evans, and young master Harry Evans asks Fizzy not to tell. Fizzy should have never gone looking in the first place." Fizzy shook his (or was it a her?) head violently. Tom held his tongue.

"That's alright, Fizzy. You did your best. I'll just have to find him on my own." He stood and made for the door. What else could he do? The house-elves of Hogwarts weren't bound to him specifically. Like Fizzy said, they were bound to the Headmaster, whomever it happened to be at the time. No matter how much Tom yelled, threatened, or inflicted pain, Fizzy would not be able to give away Harry's whereabouts unless Headmaster Dippet ordered the elf to.

That, and it would not do to insult the house-elves who took care of his food, laundry, and cleaned his dorm. Tom knew when it was pointless, he knew when he'd lost, but that didn't mean he liked it. "Thank you for the food."

Manners were appreciated in every species.

He didn't bother examining the dungeons after his kitchen failure. It would probably end up being a waste of his valuable time. Besides, Harry was sure to turn up at dinner that night, and Tom would corner him afterwards. So, he returned to the Slytherin common room and down the winding staircase to Harry's dorm, expecting the others to still be there.

Opening the door, he found Orion stretched out on Dmitry's bed, Abraxas sitting daintily on Harry's–legs crossed and one hand rubbing his chin in deep thought–and Dmitry standing in the center of the room, modeling a set of midnight blue robes with small, silken periwinkle stars decorating the cuffs.

There was no Harry.

His entrance had caught the attention of all, and the three inside the dorm turned to identify the intruder.

"Tom," Orion said with no little surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Where's Harry?" Dmitry put in. "I think I've finally decided on wearing this, and I want his opinion as well."

"To answer both questions in one go," Tom said, crossing the room to sit stiffly beside Abraxas, "I'm back because Harry took off."

Orion gaped in horror. "Have you two had another fight?"

Tom opened his mouth, but was promptly cut off by Dmitry. "No, they can't! We've all just become close again; I don't want to have to choose sides!"

"Because you know you'd choose Harry's, and you're afraid of what Tom may do to you?" Orion said with the tiniest of grins, taking enjoyment from Dmitry's dismayed disposition.

"No! Well, yes," Dmitry admitted sheepishly, "but I don't want to have to choose because I want to be able to spend time with all of you! If they've had a fight and Harry truly is irritated with Tom, again, then I won't be able to anything fun with anyone."

"Isn't that a little bit of an exageration?"

"It isn't! It's the truth! Harry won't want me speaking to any of you, Tom won't want any of you speaking to me–it would be much too horrible to bear! And with the holidays only a week away now, things will only get worse over the separation." Dmitry trailed off and then lit up as though he'd just had the grandest of all ideas. "Unless," he turned to Tom, eyes sparkling in hope, "you and Harry are able to make up over the holidays, since the two of you are always here, together. But, then, if you truly have fought, Harry might decide to take me up on my offer and come with me back to Russia–"

"You offered to take him to Russia over the break with you?" Abraxas asked in astonishment. "What did he say?"

"He said he couldn't because things with Tom and him were just beginning to right themselves, and it would be better to stay here," Dmitry sadly explained. "But maybe he'll be coming next summer. Of course, you all are invited as well. I'll just have to make sure it's all right with my family first."

"And if it's not, I'll just go with my family when I normally do, and Abraxas can tag along," Orion helpfully put in.

"Yes, I'd been anticipating that of you, just in case–"

"If anyone cares," Tom interrupted, mildly irritated that he'd not been able to get a word in edgewise, "Harry and I have not, in reality, had a fight."

They all stared at him as if he'd grown an extra head, which wasn't a good sign.

"Then why," Abraxas drawled, "did Harry 'run off,' as you put it?"

"It's private," Tom growled with a baleful glare at them all, his patience for the day having been all used up on the useless house-elves and grating Amaryllis.

And that was the end of that.