Harry walked around the room of requirements, all masks he wore completely removed knowing that nobody could disturb him in here - even if they tried to get in themselves. It was impossible, thanks to Neville; he knew how the room worked in its entirety. He carried with him a box filled with stones, and he looked the blue crystal stone etched with runes, making sure he had the correct one as he laid it in optimal position. Glancing at the book as he did so, for reassurance that he wasn't doing it wrong. Once he had the next position he placed another stone imbedded with runes and put it in its allotted slot. An entire week it had taken him to etch the runes he needed for the trace removing ritual. He knew a single wrong mistake could cost him, so he took his time, delicately crafting the runes to the best of his ability.
Slotting another one at the bottom of the intricate design, and then placed the very last one to the side, he would put it in place once he was inside the rune stoned positioned pentagram. He picked up the book and began to read it once more, more to reassure himself that he was right - even though he knew he was. The book he had copied from the restricted section after sneaking in at five o'clock in the morning, he knew there wasn't any silent alarms set to wake up the current caretaker, Harold Wren, he was a wizard, it was so completely odd seeing someone cleaning up messes using magic after all the years of seeing Filch do it by hand the muggle way. An injustice if he ever saw one, the squib absolutely loathed them all on principle he had no magic, it was almost like Hagrid all over again - Dumbledore had no shame. He knew better than to open it, since they screeched something awful. Instead he had copied it, slipped out as if he had never been there and went back to bed, nobody the slightest bit wiser to his deeds - perhaps except Tom Riddle. He hadn't seen the book; he just stared at him blankly before his lips twitched into a devious smirk before he hid behind his green hangings.
It was nothing new, the boy continued to watch him all the time and Harry in turn just gazed back. Although a challenge of sorts had happened between them without him realizing it, both tried every school day to outwit the other in class, and he had to hand it to Tom, he kept up with him without trouble. He shouldn't get so much pleasure out of it, after all Tom was fourteen years old, whereas despite appearances he was twenty one. Although his raging libido indicated otherwise, he cursed his luck at having to go through puberty - again, at least he was able to control himself moderately.
He knew for his plans to work, he should be becoming friends with the Slytherin's, particularly Tom to influence him. Influence was the wrong word really, all he wanted was to show Tom an alterative way to his path, show him how wrong he was about all he thought he knew. Of course, it had dawned on him that Tom knew but discarded it in a bid to gather more followers, and keep their allegiance. That was a worrisome thought and he hoped he was wrong.
He'd decided a few nights ago to allow Tom to come to him that way he could do what he needed without arousing suspicion by cosying up to him, in what could be construed as an insincere move to gain affection and integrate him within the Slytherin society. Only an idiot wouldn't realize that Tom was at the top of the food chain, and while he couldn't care less, he did want to change things and sitting on the sidelines wouldn't help him. No, that was the sort of thing Dumbledore did, he was nothing like that manipulative, prejudice, suspicious old fool.
So when and if the opportunity arose, he would take it.
Stepping into the pentagram, his wand with him, as vital for the ritual to work completely. He moved the stone runes to its correct location and breathed deeply. Anticipation thrumming through him, excitement tugging at the bottom of his stomach. He always got that rush when he was doing something forbidden; the Slytherin in him quite frankly enjoyed it when he did things nobody should get away with.
"Sevoco summoveo vestigium helcium omnino tumultuatio desino," Harry chanted fluently, having practiced and memorised the words with ease. The runes began glowing all around him, blue hues shaping the pentagram so much that Harry had to close his eyes or risk going blind with the intensity.
"Sevoco summoveo vestigium helcium omnino tumultuatio desino," Harry repeated the words as directed by the ritual, gasping in astonishment when he felt his magic and the runes flare together, immersing him in its awesome power.
"Festinatim mea praecantatio egomet prensatio ollud nullus," Harry added rasping through his muddled thoughts; the feeling of his magic and the runes combined was making him feel light-headed. His magic flared further, causing him to sway his eyes dilated his mouth open slightly.
Harry vaguely felt a small tugging at both his core and the wand twitched in his hand as his magic leached the trace from both items - thus giving him the ability to cast magic whenever he pleased. He was too content to worry too much, still feeling the absolutely magnificent feeling of being magically submerged, he felt safe, happy, and as if magic itself had chosen him as a favourite.
Unfortunately that feeling quickly ended, as the runes glow began to rapidly deteriorate once its task was done. All too soon Harry was left swaying once more, this time allowing himself to fall to his feet in exhaustion. Not only had it magically drained him, he felt as though he had duelled for hours, physically exerted. Up close on the stones he noticed the runes were gone, the stones cracked in different places effectively making them useless, not that they were significant to him. They were just stones he'd collected from the black lake transfigured into blue crystal.
Squeezing his eyes closed, he rode through the exhaustion, he couldn't pass out here, and it was much too risky. Sneaking in a few minutes or an hour at latest after curfew wasn't too bad but staying out of bed all night? He wasn't sure the Slytherins would cover that long - not willing to risk their own arses, but he didn't definitively know that. Opening his eyes he weakly began to put the crystals back in the box, not even having the magical reserves to banish them. Once they were safely together and the pentagram shape gone, he silently conveyed his wish to Hogwarts. To put the crystals in the lost and found room, that he would return for them at some point. Then abruptly just like that the box simmered out of view much to Harry's relief. That was one less thing to worry about; crawling on his knees he grabbed the book and closed it before slipping it into his school bag. Normally he would shrink it, it didn't matter, a teacher would need a reason to search through his things and they didn't have one.
Grunting in frustration and strain he managed to get himself to his feet, even though he still felt shaky. He was just about to leave when a potion popped into existence, arching an impressed eyebrow, he picked up the vial knowing what it was, to be sure he sniffed it and dabbed only a little onto his lip and nodded as he felt even just the dribble he used working on him. Downing the potion in one go already feeling better, or rather his magic did, he still didn't feel right physically but nothing a good nights sleep wouldn't cure.
Sliding his invisibility cloak around his shoulders, he began to move from the room. It felt so good to have his cloak back; he hadn't realized just how much he missed it until it was quite literally flying at him as if he had summoned it. He later realized from Death that he had in fact summoned it just by willing to be the owner. He had panicked of course, the heirloom had been in the Potter family for many a generation, there was no way that anyone would get away with what probably looked like stealing. A regular invisibility cloak, almost an exact duplicate of the one that was now Harry's without the specialty of it being Death's cloak now resided in Potter heir's trunk. It would never be noticed, and so Harry now had his cloak to aid him without fearing discovery. His footsteps remained unhurried and unheard as he made his way back to Slytherin territory - the dungeons. He wasn't quite late for curfew yet, but he also didn't want anyone nosy to know he'd been in the seventh floor corridor. He wasn't aware if Tom or even Dumbledore come to that, had found the room yet and he wasn't willing to risk the thought that he had - either of them.
As soon as he entered the dungeons he swiftly removed the cloak after making sure he was alone, before sliding it into his bag and uttering the password for Slytherin this month, 'supreme' honestly, how nobody ended up realizing they only need to utter the most ridiculously smug words to get into Slytherin territory he didn't know. Admittedly it was easier to get into Ravenclaw, since you were basically told in the guise of a riddle.
The door opened and Harry made his way to the only corner not in use ignoring the fact everyone had stopped talking, and absently began to remove the stuff he needed to complete yet another Transfiguration essay then the noise started back up again. The quicker he got them done the better, he had been mistaken, and the number of essays was in fact higher in number than he had deduced, fifteen essays in total he had to complete. Well it was down to ten now, and he had made sure there wasn't a single mistake so Dumbledore couldn't use it against him.
He did open his book under the pretence of working with it to do his homework, even occasionally looking over at it for the sake of appearances. He didn't know if Tom Riddle had told all the Slytherins or not, but just in case he was going to make it seem as though he was just a normal thirteen year old - if such a thing was possible. Sooner than he expected his hand began to cramp and his body protested at the long period of sitting hunched over writing. Dropping the quill he massaged his hand and absently stretched his neck muffling a tired yawn.
"I'm sick of that stupid Mudblood!" Avery said very loudly, evidently getting into a heated argument or debate with someone that he would say was Amycus Carrow if looks were anything to go on. "She thinks she's so smart!"
Harry snorted in amusement, the irony was whoever they were talking about probably was smarter than most of the wizards sitting around Riddle smug in the knowledge that he was the next coming of Merlin. He didn't need to read their minds to know that's what they were thinking, glory hounding idiots, in it for the laughs and power that came with Tom. Unfortunately his snort wasn't as low as he had hoped as the group were now eyeing him.
"What's your problem? Going to be a blood traitor and stick up for the Mudblood's?" Avery snapped, not appreciating being laughed at least of all by a Slytherin - his own housemate. "Or are you insulted because you are one?" his sneer making him look ugly and pug like.
"Correct me if I am wrong, but the term blood traitor is reserved for those that defend Muggles and their rights," Harry stated sharply, his gaze never wavering from Avery, as he crossed his arms and folded his legs together a picture of a wizard unbothered by the current conversation. "For those that marry Muggles. For a pureblood such a mistake is idiotic at best, perhaps further tutoring on your part will help with that?"
Avery just scowled furiously at the teen, hating how he was so…so relaxed and scared in the face of his wrath. Everyone was scared of him, at least the younger years and those not in his circle, they all learned that he wasn't to be messed with.
"No? Nothing to say?" Harry muttered sardonically, "Perhaps your grasp on the English language is weak at best? Its little wonder you stick to your little words and think everyone around you is stupid because they are in fact smarter than you, your ego cannot take it can it?" his lips twitching, he was enjoying this but he shouldn't, he was trying to prevent this group from committing mass murder somewhere down the line.
Dorea giggled behind her hand, unable to help herself, giving the teenager a look of respect. Walburga Black's lips were disappearing as she suppressed her own amusement, nudging her to be quiet, they didn't want Avery's ire on them after all.
"Shut up, you filthy little Mudblood!" Avery stood up hissing at the teen.
Those of the older lines, especially the Black's shook their head in embarrassment for their fellow Slytherin. They knew the Peverell line quite well, and knew they had moved to America at one point, they'd obviously at some point returned to the UK where it was quite obvious Hadrian had grown up, if his accent was anything to go on. They were featured prominently on the sacred twenty-eight. Not even the Founders of Hogwarts were on that list.
"If anyone asks what you want for your Christmas might I suggest a dictionary? Again you're repeating yourself; it's entirely bothersome to have a conversation with someone on repeat. I think even a parrot is more capable of expanding his vocabulary than you." Harry suggested in a bored tone.
"I see you aren't denying it!" he spat his entire face flushed red in anger and embarrassment getting steadily darker each giggle he heard. "SO I'm right!" he added triumphantly - which was short lived.
Harry scratched his neck absently, "Are you sure you are a pureblood? Anyone with half a mind knows very well that the Peverell is a long standing line," Harry said languidly leaning into his chair. "But if it contents that pea brain of yours, think what you like." he wasn't Muggle-born, he was a half-blood and he was rather proud of that fact.
"BOMBARDA!" Avery snarled out through gritted teeth at the boy, not thinking of the consequences of such an action - just acting on his fuelled rage.
Harry quickly dived out of the way; doing a cartwheel much to the gasping astonished Slytherin's who also moved away from the oncoming duel, seventh years quickly cast containment spells to prevent any misfired or redirected spells from hitting the younger students. All of them intrigued by the move he had pulled, quite sure they'd never seen anything like it. If he had done this when he was attacked by Grindelwald's men no wonder he'd survived. "I see to top it off you don't like the truth?"
"CONFRINGO!" humiliation and potent rage filled the teenager; he'd never been more humiliated in his entire life.
Harry just sidestepped it, making a show of boredom, "Finished?" he queried; he was definitely warding his bed tonight with an extra layer of spells.
"Expelliarmus!" he cried out.
"You are aware I do not have my wand out aren't you?" Harry cocked his head to the side, "Perhaps getting someone to check your sight might be a good idea."
"TORMENTO!" roared Avery seeing nothing but red now.
Harry wished he could say he was surprised that he knew that spell, but he wasn't. Knowing the wards wouldn't hold up against that spell, he turned to the side, and found himself gaping slightly for just a second in the face of someone he knew all too well…albeit obviously older in the memories he'd seen. Eileen Prince - Severus Snape's mother. Harry didn't even think twice after that he just grabbed the stunned girl and yanked them out of the path, not soon enough since the spell grazed him just enough to activate the spell.
Other than a grimace Harry didn't outwardly react to the torture spell that had been cast on him. Instead he glared at Avery that promised retribution if he didn't let that spell up now. Unfortunately it just infuriated Avery more that he wasn't on the floor screaming in pain.
Then just like that, the tables turned, as Harry waved his hand upwards, and Avery was sailing through the air, thumping on the wall with a cry of agony as his body protested at the rough treatment his wand clattering noisily to the floor thankfully unbroken. He scrambled for purchase unable to get any as he dangled from the wall twenty feet from the floor the magic seemed to be coming from his neck specifically. Terrified beyond belief all anger faded from him - fast. As he spluttered for breathe at the feel of the powerful magic emanating from his neck and the Peverell.
"Try anything like that again, Avery, and the next breath will be your last!" Harry growled out furiously sounding demonic, his magic cloaking the common room in its entirety. So much so that hardly anyone dared to breath.
"Enough," Tom Riddle stated calmly, but the order behind his words were clear 'stop it now'. When nothing happened immediately he frowned and stated more sharply. "He has learnt his lesson, let him go." he had his wand out, but it wasn't pointed at Harry, instead it was pointed towards Avery who wasn't even looking in their direction he was still staring wildly around grasping at the wall as if he was hoping somehow that he could find stability on it.
Harry left his hand fall back down, and almost immediately Avery fell fast towards the ground.
"Arresto Momentum!" Tom chanted, slowing his descent instead of stopping it as he could, causing Avery's already sore body to take another tumble against the high backed booth's that served as seats and to the floor. He deserved everything he got and more, he'd already warned the idiots that Hadrian Peverell was off limits. He glared coldly at the boy on the floor, his promise clear; he would pay for this stunt - just as quickly as he Avery alone.
"You alright?" Harry asked the first year, wondering if he had manhandled her too badly.
"I'm fine," Eileen insisted nose in the air.
Harry's lips twitched, nodding his head he moved back over to his belongings and collected everything before gliding up the stairs without saying another word. Only then did the Slytherin common room burst into animated conversations of what had just happened as well as speculations especially on him not reacting to the spell much to the awe of everyone. One thing they knew for certain - they were never, ever going to piss off Hadrian Peverell.