Notice: Harry Potter, Tom Riddle, and any other characters you may recognize in this story are the property of JKR and/or whoever had the brains, contacts, and cash (or other negotiable items) to secure the rights to them. Alas, I had the brains, just none of the other stuff.

A/N: How about this, another update. Ah, all in the thrilling life of an insomniac nocturnal American. Plot hole for the day: Why didn't Harry and/or his teachers just call in the DFS at age 7 or 8 or so? I know in the States, they run Child Abuse Hot line PSAs all the time. Also, teachers are supposed to be able to recognize the symptoms. God knows they have enough classes about it for a public school teacher.

Modification of the Agreement and Acceptance

Harry woke up at five as normal feeling surprisingly refreshed. For once, no dreams of Sirius going through the Veil, or of Cedric in the graveyard, or anything else that could be remembered.

He glanced at the notebook on the way out the door, and began to think about the offer on the table. "Assuming Riddle was serious about this, all he wanted was to talk. I could always have the option of not answering. It is just a silly notebook. Wonder if I could get some concessions from him, like staying out of my head as long as we were continuing the conversation. Maybe even protecting my friends. Who knows, maybe he'll slip and actually give me some information that could help me figure out his weakness. Besides, even if he's just looking to get the damn prophecy out of me I don't have to write it down. If he stays out of my head, he can't get it anyway. For once the Old Man's playing it all close to the vest worked out. That means I can't tell him anything about the Order anyhow."

While this conversation in his head was going on, breakfast was on auto-pilot. The eggs and rashers of bacon were on the stove, the potatoes had been peeled and shredded for the hash browns, and the sausage for tomorrow's breakfast was out of the freezer and thawing.

"Now, for the negatives. Dumb-Butt-dore would go mental. Hmm. Maybe that would be a positive. Serve the conniving S.O.B. right. Hermione and Ron would think I had gone off the deep end. Remus and Sirius would tell me I've gone nutters. Of course, I can't talk to Sirius anymore, and Remus refuses to even talk to me when he's on guard. The only ones I know for sure that have been on guard are Dung, Mad Eye, and Tonks. Dung because he always reeks of whatever liquor fell off the back of a truck, Mad Eye because his leg makes a different sound when it hits the ground, and Tonks, well, Tonks because she can't walk and chew gum at the same time." A small smile lit his face at that thought. The breakfast preparation was finishing just as Vernon and Petunia came down the stairs. Harry quickly grabbed four slices of toast and stuffed them into his pockets.

"Well, maybe I have gone mental. If I do this, I should probably keep the notebook with me all of the time if the damned thing just shows up on me at an inopportune moment. Like the shower or in the rain or something like that. I don't know what kind of anti-wetness charms it might have on it. Maybe I should think about this some more later."

A look out the window showed that it was raining today, and the radio in the kitchen said it would continue all day. Harry saw Vernon look up from his feed trough and grunt out "Boy, looks like you have the day off from painting and mowing the yard. Why don't you clean out the shed and garage and then you can have the afternoon off."

'What a bloody pig,' Harry thought. All he said was "Yes, Uncle Vernon. I thought I would go to the park later, if that is all right."

"Whatever, freak. Just don't do anything weird while you're out or they'll be taking your sorry ass out of here in a body bag. And don't be late getting home to fix my dinner!" Vernon growled as he headed out the door for work.

After cleaning out the shed and the garage, Harry was more than ready for a bit of air and the rainwater felt cool and clean on his dusty body. Harry took off as at a jog along the sidewalk, listening to the splashes of his trainers in the puddles. He quickly heard a second set of feet following him. A glance back showed puddles splashing without anything hitting them. There was a larger than normal splash and the sound of female cursing. Harry grinned. This could be fun.

Turning the corner onto Wisteria, Harry quickly dropped down behind the hedge and waited. Just as the invisible watcher rounded the corner, Harry jumped out, grabbed the invisible person where he thought her shoulders would be and yelled "Wotcher Tonks!" and pulled her back into the hedge with him. He tripped and Tonks landed on top of him. While falling, the cloak slipped off her head and onto her shoulders. Suddenly, Harry realized that it wasn't her shoulders he had in his hands.

"Merlin, Harry! You just about got yourself hexed into next week!"

"Sorry, Tonks. I just wanted to play a little joke on you."

"Well, you got me. Now, I have three questions for you. The first is do you know what to do with me now that you have me? The second is is that a wand in your front pocket or are you just happy to see me? And the third is do you mind shifting your grip a bit? I'm not used to being pulled around by my nips." Tonks said with a cheeky grin.

Harry blushed deeply and quickly took his hands off the young auror's breasts. "Well, as to your first question, I have a fair idea, and have been told I've always been good at picking things up as I go. To the second, my wand is in my back pocket like always, even though Mad Eye keeps telling me I'm going to blow a butt cheek off, and I'm really sorry about the third. I was going for your shoulders."

"No problem, Harry. Thank you for letting go of the girls though. They don't mind a bit of rough stuff occasionally, but I'm not into having them yanked that hard." Tonks rolled off of Harry and looked at him.

She was going to stand up, but decided to play with the boy 'No, definitely a young MAN now. I just felt how grown up he's becoming' for a minute before getting up. "You need to be careful with that wand of yours there, Harry. Felt like nine and a half inches of wood against my arse there. You could hurt someone with a wand like that."

Harry's facial skin tone was now the color of a stop sign, and all he could get out was "Uh... Uh... Um..."

"Relax a bit, Harry. Just having some payback. Now, for the lecture. You should know that ambushing the people that are looking out for you is a baaaddd thing. If anything happened while you are yanking me into the bushes here, neither one of us would be in any condition to put up any kind of a fight. That's a good way for you to end up dead! Lecture over."

Harry's face went from red to white. The grin on his face immediately shifted to a scowl because of the thought of that damned prophecy as much as the fact that Tonks was yelling at him.

"Yeah, like that's even a possibility, thanks to the Old Man," Harry muttered under his breath.

"What was that, Harry?" Tonks asked, a concerned look on her face.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing, Tonks. Just thinking out loud. Listen, I'm just going to run a few laps around the park. You can just stand in the covered pavilion and watch me instead of running in the rain after me. I'll meet up with you before I head back to the house. It's open all the way around, so you can see me the entire time."

"Thanks, Harry. That will work out well. The only reason I'm the one following you is because I am the only one that can even keep close to you when you start your runs. Now I can come back fresh as a daisy and tease the hell out of Kingsley and Hestia."

"Oh, are those my other spies today?" Harry asked bitterly.

"Harry, we are there for your safety!" Tonks said, shocked.

"Whatever. I'll see you when I get done with my run." With that, he took off.

Harry picked up speed as he hit the block with the park, anger fueling his muscles. As he ran, he was muttering to himself. "Bloody damned prophecy." Another lap, and the pace picked up. "Bloody frigging old conniving bastard." Another lap, and the pace picked up again. "Bloody stupid gullible twits." Another lap, and yet again a pick up in speed. "Bloody worthless suck up friends." Another lap, and, amazingly enough, the pace was increased. Harry was running full out now. "Bloody fucking life!"

Harry maintained this speed for another five laps, repeating his curses. In the pavilion, Tonks was amazed. She had never seen anybody run that fast for that long. She had pulled out a pair of omnioculars as soon as she reached the pavilion.

When she saw him chanting, she quickly performed a charm to allow him to hear what Harry was saying. She was shocked. "Prophecy? What's he talking about? I thought it was lost." Harry didn't sound too stable right now. He sounded depressed and royally pissed off at the Albus, the Order, his friends, and life in general. Maybe she should call Albus about this before just reporting it at the end of the shift.

At the end of his ten laps, Harry cut to the center of the park and said "Okay, Tonks. I'm done. What time is it?"

"About two thirty, Harry," a disembodied voice answered.

"Good. I have about an hour before I have to be home to start dinner for the horse, the pig, and the old boar." Harry said. "Care to have a talk?"

"I'm not supposed to, Harry. I'm supposed to be guarding you. Not to mention it will look strange if I just suddenly appear." Tonks sounded genuinely sorry.

"Well, you don't have to take the cloak off, Tonks. Everybody in the area thinks I'm criminally insane anyway. Talking to myself in the park won't hurt my reputation any. I just haven't had a chance to talk to anybody since I got off the train." Harry sounded pretty bitter.

"Sorry, but I've got my orders, Harry. I'm supposed to guard you and keep you from harm."

"Keep me from harm? Keep me from HARM? Where the hell were you when Dudley decided to use me for a punching bag? Or when that fat fucking pig decided to break my nose and three ribs when we got home? Or the black eyes from when I'm late with dinner? Or when Dudley knocked me off the stairs into the living room because I happened to be going up the stairs while he was going down? How about when I'm being fucking starved right in front of your fucking face? You might be guarding me, but don't try to bullshit me by saying you are trying to KEEP ME FROM HARM! Right now I wouldn't trust you to keep a four foot block of steel from being harmed. Oh, and you can forget about being fresh as a fucking daisy when you get back. Catch up when you can!" With that, Harry took off, if anything faster than when he was running laps in the park.

Tonks sighed and; feeling like a complete and total failure, started after the boy as quickly as she could.

When Harry got home, he immediately went in the house and began cleaning. 'That did it. Tonks just sealed the deal for me. I'm going to agree to talk to Tom.' Harry got the dusting and high dusting completed, as well as the upstairs bathroom and bedrooms taken care of before time to stop to start on Vernon's dinner.

Between the head start on the housework and his anger, Harry got back to his bedroom before ten o'clock that night.

He immediately picked up the notebook and started writing in it.

Tom. How about a bit of negotiation. You keep the link between us closed, and not attack the following people, and I will agree to talk to you:

The Grangers, all of the Weasleys, the Bones, the Abbotts, the Tonks', the Shacklebolts, and Remus Lupin.

I realize that some of these people may come after you if you are attacking somewhere else. Defending yourself against them in that case is okay. Just no outright attacks on them.

If these terms are acceptable, I agree to talk with you. If either of us asks a question the other doesn't want to answer (like say, what are your plans for attacking Diagon Alley) then we say we aren't going to answer that particular question, and go on. I will write to you within seventy two hours of the time that you write to me, and I request that you do the same. This will give each of us time to check our facts as well as we might be able.

-Harry

Thinking that would be the best deal he could possibly get, Harry closed the notebook, set it on his desk, and crawled into bed, hoping against hope for a second night in a row of dreamless sleep.