"Hey Voldietom! Hey, hey Voldietom!" Harry randomly said, very loudly at Tom's sudden distraction.
Tom looked at him as if Harry was some strange new breed of crazy and stated, very matter-of-fact,
"You're high, Potter. What idiot gave drugs to a child?"
Harry frowned. "I'm not a child Voldietom. I'm fifteen."
Tom snorted, clearly unconvinced of Harry's adultness.
"An' I'm not high. I'm low, see?" Harry flopped back on the small, squeaky cot, feet hanging off and giggled.
Tom sighed.
"This is why people try to kill you, Potter." Even though the boy was attractive -and he felt so dirty for thinking that of a child- he was determined to kill the boy- or turn him Dark, depending on if Potter seemed agreeable.
Suddenly, Tom frowned.
"Potter. I must depart."
Harry seemed a bit down, but then dazedly waved at the dark-robed, scowling halfblood -not that Harry knew it-.
"Ohkay."
Without another word, the Dark Lord turned sharply in the cramped confines of Harry's cupboard and vanished.
Two seconds later, he popped back in, snapped his fingers and left.
At least, that was what Harry assumed, because the instant Tom snapped his fingers, Harry was very abruptly ejected from his mindscape.
Very. Abruptly.
Anyways, Harry found himself back under the willow -NOT THE WHOMPING WILLOW, there are normal willow trees on Hogwart's grounds- only now, the sky was rainbowy black, the color of sunset.
Harry swore, very colorfully.