The sudden glaring brightness of the room startled him out of his meditative stupor.
He blinked.
Dumbledore. He'd dispelled the spells shielding the windows.
Inwardly Tom groaned. Starting the day to Dumbledore's twinkle was never a good thing.
There was another man behind him.
A tall dour raven of a wizard was framed in the doorway where he had stopped dead.
He was looking at tom as if he were some kind of impossible abomination.
"Albus... you failed to mention the age of the boy." He growled low, as all trace of his internal disorder was smoothly wiped from his face.
Professor Dumbledore had a slight smile on his face. "So I did, Severus. My mistake. I did not think it particularly relevant. Tom is fourteen."
Tom watched the absence of expression waver on the wizard 'Severus' face as he digested that small fact.
"Now then Tom. How did you sleep?" Dumbledore prompted him. He shifted his gaze from the twin black onyxes which were fixated on a point inches away from his eyes. The twinkling sky blue gaze pinned him and he could feel a vaguely uncomfortable fluttering or shifting in his mind. Legilimency.
He struggled and managed to look away but the sensation continued nonetheless. It was a horrible feeling to realise that his mind was lying defenceless in Albus Dumbledore's hands. He determined he would spend all his time in the foreseeable future compartmentalising and building defences for his mind.
"I...don't believe I slept, Professor" he answered politely. "I closed my eyes... but I could not remember how to do it."
The sensation in his head stopped and he risked a glance at the ancient wizard. Dumbledore looked troubled. "Yes... well... I'm sure you will sleep when your body requires it" he answered, however it seemed to tom that his mind was on something else.
"Tom – I would like Professor Snape to carry out several diagnostic spells upon you. Normally you would be treated by the current mediwitch Madame Pomfrey however for the moment it would be best to keep the news of your arrival to a minimum. To this end... after Professor Snape has examined you, you will move to the quarters I have prepared for you."
Tom maintained a polite neutral mien however inwardly he was frowning and trying not to think about the matter that was preoccupying him.
He had the strangest sensation right now.
He'd had something like it last night for a while but it had come and gone.
Now it was back... but not the same. It was like a faint tingling in his head. He wondered whether his other self might have realised he had been resurrected and be trying to establish contact with him.
Struggling with skills he hadn't had to use in four lifetimes, he firmly buried the awareness of the sensation in the deepest corner of his mind and ignored it.
The hook nosed wizard approached him warily as if he were a hissing cobra and stopped more than two metres away to cast the spells.
Tom suppressed the observation that the strange feeling increased when he came nearer and sat placidly while different colours were projected around him. He read them absently. He was perfectly healthy. He was incontrovertibly fourteen years old. He was virginal. His magical reserves were... (He blinked)... far greater than they had been before he had been placed in the diary! They were impressive for an adult wizard! Interesting!
He wondered whether his magic registered that he was sixty six years old, whether it was somehow an effect of being a horcrux or whether he was in some manner connected to his primary self (and potentially other soul fragments with individual magical stores)
The other two wizards seemed quite perturbed by the result. He watched with a carefully curious expression as 'professor Snape' ran the diagnostic spell three times and then exchanged a tight lipped look with Dumbledore.
Tom considered it might be disingenuous to enquire what the spell was for and so said nothing.
No further diagnostics were cast however. With a minimum of umming and ahing, he was assisted out of bed and into the floo.
The room into which he emerged, spinning and managing to maintain his balance, was far more opulent than he had expected. He seemed to be in a large...lounge? Study? It was certainly smaller than the house common rooms, but far larger than anything a student would have.
A small suite of brown leather furniture curled around the large carved stone fireplace he had just stepped out of.
His mind put the pieces together as he looked around the room.
Two desks on opposite sides. A tall window over each. The sun streamed in on both sides. Each desk was flanked by large bookshelves that spanned much of the wall.
One stained glass panel over the right desk displayed a roaring lion...while that over the left desk showed a slithering serpent. There were tapestries depicting lions, serpents, eagles and badgers... turning and glancing behind he noted that the fireplace was carved with the emblems of all four houses. .
He was in the head boy and girl's rooms.
Why would Dumbledore bring him here? This was to be his...quarters? Were there no head boy and girl in this era?
Or... perhaps merely no head boy? The desk on the right side was obviously occupied. Books were neatly stacked upon it. A writing set... parchments. That on the left had been cleared.
Inwardly he smirked. Whoever the head boy was, he was almost certainly quite irate at present.
Professor Snape stepped out of the floo behind him, his expression fairly radiating disapproval at the room. He stepped away from tom quickly, keeping his hand on his wand.
The man was...frightened of him, he realised.
He was truly quite concerned that tom might at any second attack, wandless or not, and what's more – best him.
Filing that little piece of information away he stepped further into the room, walking around the sofa and trailing his fingertips over its surface. Leather. Soft.. cool.. thick.. rich.. He'd been drawn to the diary because of this precise sensation on his fingers. It was very pleasant.
Beyond the sofa there was a large round ornate rug on the floor which looked like a complex intertwining mandala of green and red Celtic knot patterns. It was thick and plushy against his bare feet when he stepped into it, closing his eyes and allowing the sensations to seduce him for a moment.
The flare and hiss of Dumbledore entering the room caused him to turn and open his eyes.
The old man's face was bright and jovial as ever. That expression had always infuriated him. "Well then... I see that you have recognised where you are to be placed.
Another student has...voluntarily relinquished his claim to the head boy suite – and therefore you will be-"
There was a snort from professor Snape. "Voluntarily... Albus... really?"
Dumbledore ignored the growl and continued unconcerned "- staying with the current head girl.
I expect you to make every effort to befriend her Tom. She is a student, in some ways, after your own heart. She is also the most gifted student this school has seen since your own graduation. Her name is Hermione."
He watched the black eyes of the other man, currently serving as his barometer for Dumbledore's smudging of the truth, flicker almost imperceptibly.
"I believe she is likely still sleeping; however I'm certain you will meet her in another hour. She will be rising for classes." Dumbledore paused
"I confess I am not entirely certain what to do with you for the moment. I doubt that you would derive much benefit from classes and it would be best not to provoke too many questions about you from the students. I shall think on it."
"Perhaps you might consider whether there are any areas in which you might like to undertake research. If I approve of them, I may provide you with resources."
The white bearded old fox smiled magnanimously.
"Your room is up the stairs to the left. If you would like to make yourself comfortable... perhaps shower or bathe... a house elf should be bringing along some suitable clothes for you shortly.
I do not expect you to remain in pyjamas constantly and... As you will likely not be leaving these rooms, there is little reason to require you to dress in uniform."
Tom caught only the part about not leaving the rooms. A small fragment of his heart dropped. He'd gone from an empty world to a two room prison cell apparently. Wonderful.
Still at least he would be able to eat... shower...perhaps eventually he might sleep. And he would be trapped in his little cell with the rather interesting peach scented girl from last night,
..unless Hermione was inexplicably a common name in the future. It seemed unlikely however.
That would at least provide entertainment for a while. He would see what might be done to persuade Dumbledore to relax his restrictions in time.
Nodding respectfully to the old goat he started to turn away to go upstairs.
"Oh... Tom. I had almost forgotten. If you would come here for a moment please."
He froze and turned on the ball of his foot. He'd actually been expecting that. Dumbledore always did that. He would throw out the prospect of leaving or winning or whatever one happened to be wanting at that moment and then just as one tried to grasp the offered path, he would add an addendum in the form of 'oh... before you x. Or oh... I had almost forgotten. Something along those lines and then there would be the barbed hook of whatever it was one wished to avoid.
It was one of his more irritating mannerisms.
Tom maintained a resolutely neutral expression as he padded closer to the man, looking him right in the beard.
"I had almost forgotten a certain item of jewellery I wished to present you with. If you would..."
Dumbledore drew out a necklace from his pocket. Tom could practically taste the binding charms all over it.
Irritating old bastard.
It was impossible to detect how many different spells were placed upon the simple silver chain and carved onyx bead, because they were layered and seemed to blend, but he was certain that there was no way he would be getting around allowing the old wizard to put it on him.
And of course... it was generally to be expected that any enchanted necklace one allowed another witch or wizard to fasten upon one's neck would be unlikely to be removable by one's own hand.
It was a standard with all jewellery enchanted to bind the wearer.
He bowed his head and allowed the chain to be fastened around his throat, gritting his teeth.
He was calming his mind... meditating almost... because to allow his true emotion to flare at this moment would be...unwise. He had been capable of wandless magic when angry before entering the diary. Now...well... his magic was considerably more powerful.
He did not wish to put any ideas in the old man's head about binding that too.
"There." Dumbledore pronounced, affixing the necklace with an air of satisfaction.
Tom raised his head and glanced up at the pale twinkling eyes, only once, before starting to turn away again.
"Tom..." Dumbledore started with a voice that sounded almost kindly. He paused and half turned, but did not look him in the face.
"I realise that it has perhaps been a while since you last spoke... however I would like to have a conversation with you. I expect you to...find your voice... by the afternoon."
"We will not talk at great length, do not be concerned... but I think it best that you return to speaking rather than writing. You are not mute. The diagnostic spells show no damage to your vocal chords. You must simply take some time by yourself to get used to speaking once again."
Tom swallowed and nodded once, finally, turning away again and leaving the two wizards behind him as he climbed the stairs up to what was going to be his room.
He heard the floo flare as he placed his hand on the door handle. It flared silver for a moment and then unlocked.
The room inside exceeded all expectations of a head boy's room. He wondered whether he had become head boy in the past and hoped to hell that he had.
The room was gorgeous.
It had a vaguely octagonal shape, dominated by two features in particular.
The first were great floor to ceiling mullioned windows covering two entire walls of the octagon and crowned with a modest balcony on one wall.
The view looked out over the black lake and forbidden forest. It was spectacular and bathed the entire room in soft morning light.
The second dominant feature was the bed. It was a double. In fact it looked bigger than a regular double bed. He'd never actually slept in a double bed. The largest bed he'd ever been in had been his single bed in the Slytherin dorms.
This bed was vast and it lacked a canopy. It had short posts carved with serpents which wound around the wooden headboard also.
It was...exquisite.
The bed was laid with forest green silk covers. He found himself drawn toward it as if pulled on strings.
His fingertips traced the waxy smooth corrugations of the carved posts, trailed down and slid over the covers.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to convince himself that he wasn't actually delighted to be trapped in these rooms. He was sure that his current awe would pass shortly.
His eye drifted around the rest of the room.
A large polished wood wardrobe which seemed to match the bed... a chest of drawers... a mirror... a small fireplace... and over on the wall opposite the balcony, a door.
Standing quickly he paced over to the door, investigating.
He found himself looking ahead at another identical door. In between the two was a white bathroom.
Large was an understatement.
A long bench with two sinks and an ornate antique silver framed mirror over each offered space for toiletries (and the appalling proliferation of bottles and potions and objects he couldn't identify advertised that...Hermione.. was putting her side to use.)
Closest to his room there was a large shower with glass walls. A panel on the wall inside presented a row of small silver buttons. He frowned at it curiously.
Beyond the shower in the centre of the room there was a bath which was easily as large as his bed in the Slytherin dorm. It could have held four, comfortably. It was partially sunken into the floor and again, offered a confusing array of buttons and spigots in one corner.
On the far side of the bath there was a small partition, behind which there was a toilet.
He glanced again at the other door. Beyond that was Hermione's room, obviously. He crept over to it cautiously, listening but hearing nothing.
He was tempted to enter but that would obviously be a bad idea. Instead he twisted the locking mechanism and turned away, stripping off his pyjamas and discarding them in the middle of the room.
He decided upon a shower.
Fiddling with the buttons he managed to get water of a tolerable temperature to emerge from a relatively normal looking shower head and stepped inside. He couldn't suppress the gasp of pure pleasure at the sensation of the hot water all over his skin. It was beyond wonderful. It surpassed everything experienced thus far.
He strolled, still dripping from the shower back into his room and inspected the wardrobe.
True to Dumbledore's word, they were now populated with clothing.
It was all rather garish. But, among the red and purple and blue he managed to find some black trousers and a white shirt.
A faint click informed him that Hermione was now in the bathroom. Turning he was tempted to wandlessly unlock the door and stroll in as if unawares.
No.
Perhaps another time. He imagined he could gain a lot of amusement from her over time if he was only careful to prevent her from running squealing to Dumbledore or 'harry'.
Instead, flinging open the doors to his balcony he lowered himself to sit on the stone in the sunlight, crossing his legs. The sun was so warm...bright... Everything was so...much more...here.
Faintly he heard a bird singing. It was a balm.
Closing his eyes he relaxed his mind again, letting himself slip into that peaceful stasis state that he had spent a significant portion of his most recent years in.
He could feel his magic thrumming around him gently... and he could feel all the other magic too. The castle was so bright... but there were so very many dots... blips of further brightness within it... all around.
He felt a faint tingle at the back of his mind again but dismissed it as he allowed his perception to drift and distance itself from conscious thought.