"So... so You-Know-Who is right here in the school? Harry that's, that's…"

"Unbelievable?"

"Yeah. Bloody hell, mate." Ron shook his head, trying to understand. "Dumbledore's a genius and all, but I think that now he's gone a little over the top."

"But Ron," Hermione interrupted. "Don't you know what it means? He's not out there anymore. If he can change… then Voldemort will never exist anymore."

"Don't say that name!"

"Why not? He's dead. Voldemort is dead. Only Tom Riddle remains now."

"But then why don't we storm in there and kill him off, Harry?" Ron said, clearly horrified by the idea that a few floors under them Voldemort was luring somewhere. "I mean, look what he did to Ginny! And you say he's even one year older than then, and killed his father too. His own father!"

"I know Ron. I know,and I know what he did to Ginny… or at least what his memory did to her. But, God, I can't hate him. Not after seeing him like that."

Silence fell in the room, and Hermione and Ron were watching him with shock."But Harry... It's Voldemort. How can you not hate him?"

"Hermione, I tried. I really tried to see him as nothing but a killer. Not human. But the point is… he has feelings as well. He is human, no matter what I want him to be."

"Then how did you see him mate?"

Harry sighed. "Curled up on his bed like a child, with tears on his face from the horrors he had seen, knowing it was him who was able to do all that. Would do all that if we hadn't brought him here."

Hermione opened her mouth but for once, couldn't find an answer, another explanation, so she closed it pretty soon. Harry watched the window in the common room, rain streaing down the glass. "I just can't hate him anymore. Not after I saw him as a human once. Because in the end, he didn't commit those crimes. We interrupted it. It is another Tom Riddle who became Voldemort. One who had not foreseen his actions, but that one is now dead."

Tom woke up because something had been thrown on his bed. Something heavy. He opened his eyes and saw a stack of newspapers and books lying on it. When he turned his head to the right, he saw Harry standing next to his bed.

"You wanted papers?"

"Uh… yes, thank you," he answered, strangely enough pleased to see that Harry hadn't moved back to the other side of te room as soon as he'd woken up.

"No thanks. You've got a lot to catch up to."

Harry took a bag and moved to sit on a chair by the table. After a few minutes, he was silent, reading a book and writing on a piece of parchment now and then.

"What are you doing?"

"Making homework."

"Why here?"

"Because I promised professor Dumbledore to keep you compagny. Now be quiet."

Tom rose silently and walked over to the table. Harry was caught up in thoughts and didn't notice that Tom was reading over his shoulder until he pointed a finger at Harry's notes. "That is not correct."

"Waah! Don't sneak up to me! Merlin, You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Oh, apologies," Tom said, backing away.

"Alright, alright, what did I do wrong?" Harry said after a while.

Tom shot him a grin. "Why it is forbidden to transform living creatures in lifeless things and why it is not forbidden to transfigurate them."

"Yeah well, I never really got the difference."

"With transfiguration, you only change its figure. If you transfigure a mouse into a stone and you pick the stone up, it still has a beating heart an blood running through it. You deform only the outer form, but the inside structure stays the same. It's more of an illusion technique actually. Hence the reason why said stone sometimes keeps squeaking, even if it has no visible mouth. And if you transfigure said stone back to a mouse, nothing changes. If you would try to transfigure the stone in something else but a mouse, you wouldn't be able to, since you have to change the outer form of a mouse, not a stone. With Transformation however, you change both the inner structure and the outer structure. For living creatures, this can have heavy consequences. Lets drop the stone-mouse thing, for it is becoming annoying. Take a turtle and a piece of metal…"

"Very different," Harry murmured.

"Doesn't matter, the mouse was just starting to get on my nerves. Well, if you transform a turtle in a piece of metal, you change the very structure of every cell. Because metal is a non-living material, you actually kill every living cell if transforming it into metal, and thus kill the creature. You would be able to change it into another form like stone or glass directly out of the metal, since now it is no deformed turtle anymore, but truly a piece of metal."

"And what about changing back?"

"That's why it is forbidden to do it with living creatures. Magic cannot bring back life. If you would try to change a piece of metal in a turtle, you can get a turtle form. But only a dead one, since you can't give the cells life, or a soul."

"So… with transfiguring a living thing into a stone or something, it stays alive, and thus you can transfigure it back to its original form and with transforming you actually kill it because you change its whole structure and not just the outer layer? And transforming living creatures is forbidden because it kills them?"

"Exactly."

"Wow. Why don't they just write it down like that in the bloody textbook?"

On this, Tom had to laugh. "They always want to let you figure it out yourself."

"Huh. Annoying. Besides, that doesn't work. If I do not get what the book means, I just ask Hermione to let me copy her homework…"

"Hermione?"

"A friend of mine. She's the brightest witch in the whole castle. In fifth year she did a Prometeuscharm succesfully. I actually even think she could do it before that."

"Really? That's amazing."

"Yeah. And another piece of evidence that blood supremacy is bullshit right?"

"Huh?"

"She's a Muggleborn," Harry said with a smug grin.

Tom was silent on that for a while, totally gobsmacked. "How? That shouldn't be possible. A Mudblood that is that strong?

"What, you don't believe me? Look at yourself. You became the most powerful dark wizard that ever lived, and yet, you are a halfblood."

"Well… that's true… but…"

"No buts," Harry said, his voice harsh again.

Tom had already wondered when that voice would come back. He had been surprised that Harry was talking to him at all. After yesterday it looked like he hated every cell in Toms body. He turned around and walked to the bed again, skipping through the papers. They were called The Daily Prophet. He guessed that that was now the wizarding newspaper. In his time, it had been The Seer. He saw several advertisements from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and supposed it was the jokeshop Dumbledore had told him about. He flipped through some other newspapers. He noticed that Harry was in them quite often, usually in combination with the name Voldemort. A twinge of guilt shot through him. He sighed and watched Harry who was bent over the table, scratching on his parchment again.

"Do you hate me?" he asked flatly.

He thought he already knew the answer, but he just wanted to know, so he knew what to expect. To his surprise, Harry answered with an unsure: "I don't think so. I'm not really good at hating people. I hated Voldemort, but somehow you're not the same person… Doesn't make me like you though. You're still a murderer," he said, becoming angry again.

"Well, I'm not going to deny it, but I'm not apologising either."

"Why?" Harry said, suddenly looking devastated. "Why do you like to kill?"

Tom was taking aback by the question. "It's not that I like killing, and if I can avoid it, I will, but if there is a reason…"

"No reason is good enough for that."

"Dumbledore told me the same."

"And?"

"He also said that I should try and regret it. Because he says there is something after death. But I don't know if I can believe that."

"Why not?"

"They say that after death, there is a better place. If there was, why do people mourn for the dead? Why are they sad if a person is send to a better place?" Harry opened his mouth, but Tom interrupted him. "That is why there can be nothing after death!"

"You don't understand. People do not mourn for their dead, but for themselves. Because they have to miss their loved ones."

"Love?" Tom snorted.

"Yes. Love and selfishness. They can't get over the fact that they have to live without their deceased friends, or family, or partner. And other than that, there is always the uncertainty. What if? What if there is nothing after it after all?"

"Exactly what I said."

"No, it's different. Because they still haven't lost their hope."

"They are fools then. How can you believe in something you cannot see?"

"Magic exists. Muggles don't believe in magic. Does that mean it is not real?"

"Magic and death have nothing to do with each other. Magic is proven, life after death is not."

"Let's drop the subject okay? We're not coming to an agreement anyways," Harry said, clearly annoyed.

"Right."

Silence fell over the room for a long time. The only sounds were the scratching of the quill, and the rustling of paper. Finally, Harry got to his feet. "I've got to go."

"Will you come back?" Tom said. He hated himself for the weakness that shone through his voice. He didn't even understand why he wanted him to. Certainly only because he was someone to talk to…

"I will. See you."

"Bye."

He noticed that now, Harry granted him the mercy to at least close the door.

Following weeks, their conversations went better, and they didn't have endless discussions anymore. Harry found that he even began to look forward to the meetings they had. The bell had just rung and he told his friends while swinging his bag over his shoulder: "I gotta go again. See you later guys."

"I pity you mate. To be in the company of that."

"He's not that bad. But besides, who else would? And I promised Dumbledore to look after him."

"Would it help if we went with you?" Ron asked.

"You'd want to?"

"If we can make sure nothing happens to you, yes of course."

"Thanks. I really appreciate that."

"I'm sorry guys. I have too much homework. I'll help out another time, okay?"

"Sure Hermione. See you later."

Ron and Harry walked out of the classroom together. Harry hoped Tom wouldn't start a stupid discussion again. "So. How is he?" Ron asked, clearly terrified.

"He's an annoying bastard who doesn't accept any view but his own. But he's not a monster. Not yet or not anymore, I don't know. I've got no idea how he was before he came here, other than one memory the diary showed me. He is different from then at least."

"Seeing what he would do hit him in the face?"

"Yeah, you could say that…" Harry said, remembering his reaction afterwards. "We're here."

Ron gulped, while Harry altered the spell on the door so it would let Ron through as well. Harry pushed it open, and saw Tom laying on his side on the bed, eyes open. "Hey." He said in a bored tone.

"Hey Tom."

Tom watched in interest as Ron came in, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Hey." Ron backed away when spoken to, and Tom rolled his eyes. "If you're going to act like I'm a wild animal then please leave me alone."

Ron said nothing, and sat down on the chair next to the table.

"Alright," Harry said to break the tension. "I brought you some books from the library. I'm sure you haven't read them yet, since they were written after your time."

Tom looked up in surprise. "Thanks."

Harry handed him the books and Tom watched the titles. They were a mixture of study books and English Wizarding literature. He knew Tom wasn't one for a light read. Ron saw the titles as well and gaped.

"You're seriously gonna read those? For fun? Man, you've got the same taste as Hermione!"

Tom shot him a glare. "Don't you dare compare me to some Mudblood in any—"

Before he could finish the sentence, he had been thrown against a wall, and Ron was punching in on him. Tom was great with magic, but physically he had never been very good. He tried to shield himself. First with his body, but when that didn't work he tried a wandless Protego At first he thought it had worked, but then he saw Harry had pulled Ron off of him.

"Let me go Harry! Let me go! I'm not letting anyone speak ill of Hermione, especially not some murderous snake!"

"Ron, cut it out, you're killing him!"

That made Ron stop, but for another reason Harry had thought. "You're… you're defending him?"

"I… yes Ron. Yes."

"But… he murdered your parents! Sirius! How can you forget—"

"I didn't! But that wasn't him Ron. That was Voldemort."

Ron shook his head in disbelief. "And what about Ginny? What about my little sister?" Harry tried to give a reply, but couldn't find an argument. He glanced at Tom, who looked like he hadn't followed a word of the conversation, only staring at the blood on his hand that came from the back of his head where he had hit the wall. "He's done something to you, no?"

"What? Ron, that's ridiculous! He doesn't even have a wand!"

"Then why?"

Harry didn't know the answer. He only knew he had forgiven Tom for what he had done, and especially for what he would have done, since it was clear to him now that that would never happen again. Harry noticed he had finally the attention of them both.

"Voldemort is dead Ron," he said flatly, knowing it was not the full reason. Ron snorted, grabbed his bag and left the room. Harry turned to face Tom. "I suck at healing, so I'll probably do more damage than you already have. I'm gonna call the nurse, ok?"

"Yeah… sure." Tom said, with an off voice.

He pressed his hand to the back of his head to stop the bleeding. He mentally cursed. Why had Harry let that bastard in? Though he probably shouldn't have called their friend a Mudblood. He stared at the floor and suddenly focused his gaze. There, on the floor, lay Harry's wand! The one who had attacked him –Ron, Harry had called him, and judging by the looks, it was a Weasley- had accidentally knocked Harry's wand away. He crawled towards it to pick it up and twirled it in between his fingers, strangely enough getting a spark of recognition out from it. So it was true… he still had a connection with Harry. He breathed in deeply. This was his chance to escape the wrecked room!

But where could he go? He sighed and slumped down on the bed again. He knew no-one here. No people he knew their current addresses of anyway. And it would all be people who would want their Lord back, not him. Though he hated to admit it, he would miss Harry as well. Tom rubbed his face. When had he grown to care? But he did, and that was everything that mattered right now. He heard someone at the door and saw Harry standing in the doorway together with a woman. The nurse, he guessed. Harry froze in the middle of his sentence of introducing the woman upon seeing his wand in Tom's hands.

"My wand."

"Oh, yes. You left it there somewhere on the floor." He pointed vaguely at the floor, and then decided to not try and break out.

Despite being imprisoned here, he liked it. He didn't have to do anything and got company, food, a bed, books and whatnot… He turned the wand around and offered Harry the handle. He gripped it tightly and yanked it away before inspecting it.

"I didn't do anything with it you know."

He saw that Harry wanted to believe him, but couldn't. Not yet. The nurse stepped forward and ordered him to lie down on his stomach. The next few minutes were filled with a humming buzz and a blue glow of magical scanning. Then, she took care of the wound on his head, and a rib that Weasley had broken. He hadn't even noticed, he had been too occupied with the blood. A few healed bruises later, she was done.

"I have to hurry back again. Mr Malfoy managed to get away with hexing some poor Gryffindors again, so I have my hands full, especially because I'm sure professor Snape will find a way to punish the Gryffindors instead of Malfoy."

"Success. See you later, Madame Pomfrey."

"I hope not," she told Harry in a stern voice. "You are in the hospital wing a little much, don't you agree? And half of the time it has something to do with that incredibly dangerous sport. They should prohibit it!"

"Sorry," he said sheepishly.

When she turned to walk out of the room, Tom muttered: "Thank you."

She turned around, clearly surprised and not expecting any appreciation for what she had done. She smiled at him. "You're welcome. Better thank Potter for coming and getting me so fast. You don't know how persistent he can be at times…"

Harry shot her a dirty look and Tom chuckled. "Oh, I know."

"As if you're not," Harry grinned.

Madame Pomfrey walked out and Harry sat down beside him on the bed. The gesture didn't go unnoticed. "Why did you help me?" Tom asked.

Harry looked up and met his eyes. Tom realised he didn't look him in the eyes very often. "What else could I have done? Watch how Ron beat you up? Leaving you here with a bloodied head and broken limbs?"

"I don't know, I just… well… didn't expect it."

Harry smiled kindly. "If I had been the one lying there, what would you have done?"

Tom hesitated before answering, surprised by the answer himself. "If it was you, I would have helped. Anyone else though…"

Harry's eyes widened. "Why am I different?"

"You're always… kind to me. Understanding. I'm not used to that. I think I've come to see you as a… a friend."

Harry placed his hand on Tom's shoulder, and Tom was surprised by a strange feeling in his stomach. "Thank you. I really appreciate that." Harry said, but for some reason, there was also sadness in his voice.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said, while averting his eyes.

"I'll try to refrain myself from insulting your friends, okay?"

"That would be nice. Something different. Are you any good with potions?"

Surprised by the shift of subject, Tom replied: "Yes. Why?"

"I need to write ten inches about the use of moonstone in calming draughts and painkilling potions, and what they have in common."

"Ah, well, that's fairly easy…"

The next minutes flew by, and in the end he had completed the task so well that Slughorn would surely give him an O. Again. The book of the Half-blood prince was very informing about the creation of potions, but it didn't provide any information about purely theoretical subjects.

"Slughorn still works here?"

"Again. Since this year. We were out of DADA teachers, and the only one who volunteered was the potions master, so he needed another one. Plus, Slughorn had certain… information Dumbledore wanted… About you."

"Ah. My horcruxes?"

"Exactly."

"Do you know what happened to the others?"

"They died, together with Voldemort."

"Good. It's a pain now that I'm mortal, but it might turn out for the best."

"I'm glad you can see that now." Harry told him, smiling. "I have to go now by the way. Dinner."

"Hmm. I have to eat something as well. Hope that house- elf doesn't spit in my food again."

"Spit?"

"Yeah. His name's Dobby and he hates me because I hurt you…"

"Oh no. Wait. Dobby!"

A pang sounded through the room and a very exited house- elf appeared. "Harry Potter Sir needs Dobby, Sir?"

"Yes, uhm… could you please not do anything gross with Toms food from now on?"

The house- elf suddenly burst out into tears of happiness and Harry looked slightly alarmed. "Harry Potter Sir is even more noble than Dobby thought! Granting his enemies such favours! I'm sorry I hadn't thought of it!" He walked to the table to smash his head against it, but Harry stopped him by grabbing his wrist.

"It's alright Dobby. There's no need to punish yourself! The elf looked up with watery eyes and got a wide smile on his face. He disapparated and brought back a plate of delicious food for the both of them. "Oh no, Dobby, I'll eat in the… whatever. I can eat here as well, hmm?" Harry said when the elf's ears began to hang down and the smile disappeared. "Take some food for yourself too."

The elf began to snotter again and hugged Harry. "N… no one e… ever a… asked m… me to eat s… some… t… thing."

In a few seconds, Dobby was gone, and Tom said dryly: "I think someone's got a crush on you."

"Ah, no. He always acts like this."

"I pity you."

"Yeah. Once he wanted me gone from Hogwarts for my 'own protection' and he blocked the passageway between King's Cross and platform 9 ¾ . Really annoying, I had to get to school with the flying car of Ron's dad. It was horrible, and we landed in the Whomping Willow on top of that when the car got tired."

"What Willow?"

"Oh, yes. It was planted here after your time…" Harry told him about the Marauders, and their connection with 'that damned tree', as Harry putted it. When finished, Tom shook his head.

"Only Dumbledore. Only he could be crazy enough to let a werewolf attend Hogwarts, and even let him come back to teach."

"Remus is very nice!"

"An also very dangerous. He attacked you, didn't he?"

"Well, yes, but only because he had forgotten his potion!"

"Hmm. Quite an invention, I must say. But we began this story about Dobby, no? What else did he do to stop you?"

"Bewitched a bludger to follow me around the field, so it would hurt me enough to make me leave school. Pitifully enough for him, he let slip that he had been the one to do that, and I'm a kind of stubborn-natured person."

"Really."

"No need for sarcasm please."

"Alright, but that elf is crazy! And here he accused me for hurting you!"

"He simply said staying would hurt me more. And in the end, he was right. I would've died if it hadn't been for Fawkes, Dumbledore's Phoenix."

"What happened?"

"Opening of the Chamber, your diary, Gigantic Basilisk… you've seen the memories."

"Oh. Then."

"Yes."

They were silent for a while, but then Tom murmured something.

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

"Tom, did you just… apologise?"

"I… think. Yes. I must be going crazy."

"No," Harry smiled. "You've just changed."

Tom got that strange feeling again, a fluttering in his stomach, and felt an urge to move closer to Harry. Instead, he smiled back. "For the better I hope?"

"Definitely," Harry replied. Then, he frowned. "Dobby sure is taking his time."

"Of course. You said he could eat. Not that he could eat here. I'm sure he didn't expect that kind of high honour. And it's probably for the best too, or he might want to lick off your shoes to thank you."

"Y'know, knowing him, he probably would. I really have to go now, or else they'll think you ate me or something."

Tom chuckled and said: "Goodnight."

"Sure. Sleep well." Harry picked up his stuff and walked out.