"Let's go to the third-floor corridor tonight," Harry said. Currently, he was very bored in the common room, considering that he'd done all of his weekend homework the night before.
"I'd rather practice Defense."
"We don't even know where we're going to do that yet, Tom. If we go and explore the castle, we can find a good place."
"Fine," Tom grumbled. "Just let me finish this chapter." He'd been taking advantage of the expansive library at Hogwarts, and was reading a book on modern wizarding history.
They snuck out of the common room, and Harry was sure to note that the new password for the week was "tradition." They traveled up the stairs until they reached the third floor, which was completely deserted. There weren't very many doors, only sleeping portraits of witches and wizards. The one door that they did find was locked, so Harry tried out the new unlocking charm that they'd recently read about.
"Alohomora," he said. The door unlocked with a click. If whatever was behind the door was really that dangerous, surely the headmaster would have protected it with a stronger spell. Harry's logic was proven to be wrong, however, when he and Tom turned around and found themselves face-to-face with a hellhound. It snapped and growled at them.
They slammed the door shut and left the corridor as quickly as they could. Harry's heart was racing. "Tom, never let me do anything like that again," he said.
"I don't think you'd listen."
"Just make me, okay. Also, do you know of any ways to calm a hellhound?"
"Not off of the top of my head, but we can research it. It was guarding something, There was a trapdoor underneath its body."
"I wonder what," Harry thought aloud. "It's obviously something that wasn't at Hogwarts before, because Dumbledore mentioned it like it was new during his speech."
Tom didn't reply. Harry thought for a few seconds, then remembered that Hagrid had invited him for tea on Saturday. "Let's ask Hagrid tomorrow," he said.
"Hagrid? Why him?"
"Well, for one, he invited me for tea tomorrow. Secondly, he knows a lot about the school, and has a tendency to say things he shouldn't. We'll be able to ask him and get information."
Tom's eyes glinted in the cold lighting of the dungeons. "I see," he said finally.
They walked down to Hagrid's hut in the afternoon on Saturday. That morning, during breakfast, they'd received a strange note from the headmaster inviting them to a different meeting. So, they were going to make the visit at Hagrid's a quick one before going to Dumbledore's office. Harry wondered why he wanted to meet with both of them.
Harry knocked on Hagrid's door and heard a loud barking coming from inside. Hagrid lumbered over to the door and opened it, seeming pleased to see Harry and surprised to see Tom.
"I was hoping it'd be alright if Tom came along," Harry explained.
Hagrid nodded. "Come on in. I made yeh some rock cakes."
The rock cakes were practically impossible to eat, so they stuffed them in their robe pockets for later disposal. Hagrid chatted with them about their classes, and how life in Slytherin was.
"I have ter say, Harry, I found meself a bi' surprised ter see yeh in Slytherin. Yer parents were Gryffindors, yeh know."
"No, I didn't know. I like my house, though; it suits me."
"Tom, yer father was a Slytherin too, so yer Sorting wasn' surprisin' at all."
"Really?" Tom said with interest. "What else do you know about my father?" Harry glared at Tom. He knew that his "father" was actually him, and something weird could happen if he knew his past.
"He was a prefec' here a' Hogwarts. Good studen', too. I never did know wha' happened ter him after he left Hogwarts."
"Oh," Tom said. "On a different note, it's funny. The other day we were getting acquainted with the castle and we came across a hellhound — a giant, three-headed dog."
"How do yeh know abou' Fluffy?" Hagrid exclaimed.
"Fluffy? You named it?"
"Yeah — he's mine — bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year — I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the—"
"The what?" Tom asked, eyes gleaming
"Now, tha's somethin' between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel, tha' is."
"Nicholas Flamel, you say?"
Hagrid looked deeply annoyed with his actions. "Sholdn' have said tha'," he kept muttering.
Tom and Harry bid Hagrid goodbye and set off to find the headmaster's office. The office entrance turned out to be a stone gargoyle, which spiraled upwards when they said the password "Chocolate Frogs." When they made it to the top, they found all kinds of buzzing, whirring, and clicking trinkets. In the far corner of the office, there sat a fiery-looking bird with red and gold feathers.
"Ah, Harry," he said with a smile. His featured grew slightly more dim. "Tom." Dumbledore inclined his head towards both of them.
"Why did you want to see us, Professor?" Harry asked.
"I'll admit, Harry, as Hagrid has undoubtedly already told you, your sorting into Slytherin was surprising."
"Well, I didn't exactly grow up with my parents, though. I've been on my own for most of my life, and I just had to adapt."
"Hmm, yes." The headmaster pushed a tray of yellow candies towards them. "Lemon drop?" They shook their heads.
"And Tom," he began, sitting back in his chair. "I didn't think I'd see you again. What I would like to know is how you are here."
"You see, sir, I'm not actually your Tom Riddle. I'm his son."
Dumbledore chuckled, the twinkle gone from his eyes. "That may fool the others, but it cannot do so for me. So I'm asking again, how did you time travel over fifty years into the future?"
Tom sighed. "There was this necklace, a golden one. I found it near the orphanage, and then I spun the hourglass. Next thing I knew, I was at the orphanage, being shaken awake by Harry."
Dumbledore thought for a moment. "That reminds me, Harry. We were also rather surprised to find that you'd been taken to an orphanage. Previously, you had been in the care of your maternal relatives. Do you know how your transfer may have happened?"
Now it was Harry's turn to sigh. "They weren't nice people, the Dursleys, I mean. Dudley, their son, was spoiled rotten and always beat me up. One day, he and his friends were really going at it, and something inside of me just snapped." He took a breath. "They ran away screaming, and their ears started bleeding, and that was when my 'freakishness' had gone on for long enough. My uncle realized that they couldn't 'stamp the magic out of me,' so he dropped me off at an orphanage when I was six."
A dark look passed over Dumbledore's face, but he quickly recovered his composition. His eyes twinkled again. "It's nearing curfew, if I'm not mistaken, so you two had best be on your way back." He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Thank you, Professor," they both said.
