Jonquils And Lightning

Questions

Harry felt Tom stiffen behind him, and reached over his shoulder to take Tom's hand without removing his eyes from Dumbledore's face. "I don't think you have as much power as you believe," he remarked to Dumbledore.

The man sighed a little. "You have admitted that you have little knowledge of my world or this one, Mr. Potter. Please don't presume to tell me that I don't have the legal power my own Ministry has granted me."

"You don't have it because you can't enforce it," Harry said. "You couldn't bring any of your guards or servants with you through the portal, could you? And from what I know of those things, even one that's been kept open is open only to the person who made it or to someone they touch as they're passing through the portal. Unless certain special conditions are met. Which means that you made the blood sacrifice or whatever other illegal measures Tom had to take to pass through the portal yourself."

Tom made a choking noise. Harry squeezed his hand, hard. He could appreciate that Tom wanted to speak up, but this was not the right time for that. Harry kept staring at Dumbledore and said nothing. He would handle this.

Dumbledore examined him. Then he asked, "And what sacrifice did you make to pass through your own portal, Mr. Potter?"

"Part of my own magic." Harry saw no harm in admitting that. It wasn't like this Dumbledore could force him to take it back, or strip it away from his own portal, either.

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "That should have left you a Squib."

"It didn't."

"Tell me why."

"For the same reason that you won't be arresting Tom and taking him back with you."

"I'm not sure I follow."

Harry snapped his fingers, and limned them and hands in soft blue flame. He knew Dumbledore would appreciate how much effort it took to do that wandlessly, and so quickly, and making sure that the flames avoided burning not only his own skin but Tom's, and the wood of the table his arms lay on. He smiled thinly at Dumbledore. "Because I have a truly ridiculous amount of magic."

*

Tom leaned hard on Harry's shoulder, staring down at the dancing, ghostly blue fire in front of him. Each individual flame had a point as sharp as a tooth, and yet Tom had no fear that they'd stab him. He knew all of Harry's anger was meant for Dumbledore.

And it was a wonderful thing, knowing that.

Tom didn't want to show weakness in front of his enemy, so he didn't show the emotions or speak the words that such a gesture from Harry merited. He clasped Harry's shoulder hard, instead, and watched the flames move to encircle his own palm and fingertips. He felt nothing at all. He shivered more from that than he would have from the usual feeling of heat or electricity.

Harry gave him a quick smile before facing Dumbledore again. He hadn't released his hold on Tom's hand.

Tom glanced at the Minister. There was a deep frown on his face and shadows around his eyes that Tom knew from experience boded no good. He couldn't bring himself to be frightened, though. Harry was doing something incredible. Dumbledore would have to put up with just how incredible it was in his own time.

"You cannot mean to stand in the way of my arresting Mr. Riddle," Dumbledore said slowly, as if testing the words out. "These are the politics of a foreign world, and have nothing to do with the one you came from or the one where you have embedded yourself. Why care at all, Mr. Potter?"

"Tell me why you call him Riddle," Harry said instead. "He told me that his name was Gaunt."

Tom moved his hand that was on Harry's shoulder to rub the back of his neck. Harry shivered, but Tom was fairly sure that was a motion only he could see. Outwardly, Harry remained calm and focused.