Hey guys! Just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who is reading, following and reviewing this story. I'm sorry I can't commit to faster updates at the moment but everyone reading really helps keep my motivation to continue. Thanks!

Adarynn


The first few weeks back at Hogwarts weren't quite the positive experience that Harry had been hoping for. After the emotional roller-coaster that had been last year, he had been hoping for a bit of peace but the entire school had quickly returned to its old hobby of 'staring and whispering about Harry Potter.' It was obvious that the majority of students wanted to know exactly what had happened the night Cedric had died but as yet nobody, not even the Gryffindors, had been brave enough to ask him outright. The whispering that went on behind his back was only fuelled by the Ministry of Magic's dogged determination to ignore everything that had happened last summer. Harry had recognised several Death Eaters that night in the graveyard but Fudge had refused to believe him, stating firmly that the threat Voldemort's followers had once presented was over. He had attacked Dumbledore's reputation when the headmaster had attempted to back up Harry's word. Fudge had brushed it off, telling the papers that the headmaster was a fool to trust a potentially unstable youth. After Harry's sanity had been attacked in Rita Skeeter's articles last year, it wasn't a big leap for Fudge to say Harry had somehow convinced Dumbledore his delusions were real.

Lessons themselves were not particularly easy either. The teachers seemed determined to drum the importance of the OWLS through their skulls by force if necessary, and had already raised their workload to double what it had been last year. Between the challenging classes and mountain of homework Harry and Ron were both already spending an inordinate amount of their free time on just trying to keep up. The single exception to this was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, a pink toad-like woman named Umbridge who seemed to have an unnatural aversion to the actual practice of magical spells.

The only person aside from Hermione who seemed to be coping with the increased workload was Tom Riddle. Harry had taken to covertly watching him in the classes they shared together, it was maddening to see the way the teachers reacted to him. The 'perfect student' act was flawless, Riddle showed his intelligence and aptitude for each subject in just the right way; within a week most of the staff were singing his praises, calling him a brilliant, humble young man who was an asset to the school. It infuriated Harry how easily everyone else seemed to swallow the lies, he just didn't understand how the teachers especially didn't see through the act to the psychopath underneath.

Outside of classes Riddle was usually accompanied by the usual posse of 5th year Slytherins, most of whom seemed to quickly be developing a wary respect for the boy. The only exception to this was Malfoy, who seemed to spend most of his time sulking that Tom was outshining him academically. Ha, Harry wished he could hear what his father said about that! A couple of times Riddle had tried to approach Harry on his own. He seemed to have an uncanny sense for when Harry was alone, which was mildly concerning to say the least. Harry had so far not allowed himself to be caught, always pretending not to have seen the other, or making quick excuses. It was a good job Harry had been forced to think on his feet a lot in recent years, the skill was certainly paying off now. It wasn't that Harry didn't want to find out why Voldemort had targeted his family, he really did, it was just that he wasn't sure that Tom having the information was a good thing. What if it turned out that he had actually had a good reason for trying to kill him 16 years ago, and decided to make a fresh attempt? Either way his time was quickly running out to decide what to do about it; Riddle was becoming visibly agitated by his avoidance, and Harry really didn't want to find out what he would do if he got angry.

As it turned out, the choice was taken away from him with the delivery of a small folded piece of parchment delivered by Colin Creevey. Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting in the common room one evening trying to get through Snape's latest essay when it arrived, a short note written in elegant slanted handwriting;

Harry,

Please present yourself in my office when convenient, I am particularly fond of lemon drops.

Albus Dumbledore

"Who's it from?" Ron asked absently, his quill scratching his temple as he tried to work out a particularly difficult formula.

"Dumbledore," Harry said slowly, looking up. That caught Ron's attention.

"Really, what does he want?"

"Wants me to go to his office, now I think." The other two looked at him expectantly but he didn't move. He was still a bit angry with the headmaster for making sure he had no information about what had happened to Voldemort over the summer.

"We'll wait here for you." Hermione smiled reassuringly.

"It's alright," Harry stood and gathered his things together, "Don't know how long I'll be there." He knew his voice was coming out slightly oddly and the others seemed to pick up on it.

"You ok mate?" Ron asked quietly.

"Fine," Harry threw him the best smile he could before taking his bag to the dorm.

It seemed like only a second later he was striding through the secret passageway down to the third floor, quickly coming face to face with the aged gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the headmaster's office.

"Lemon drops." He announced, voice sharp. In response the gargoyle just gave him a derisive look and nimbly leapt to the side revealing the spiral staircase behind him. At the top Harry paused, taking a deep breath to control his temper before he turned the door handle and entered.

"Ah, Harry, thank you for coming at such short notice. Please, sit down." The headmaster smiled at him, indicating one of the plush chairs across the desk. The office was much as Harry remembered it from his previous visits; the silvery instruments that decorated the table puffed smoke and whirred, the many portraits of previous headmasters looked down at him blinking owlishly, and Fawkes (the phoenix that had saved Harry's life in his second year) still sat on his perch.

While the magnificent bird looked to be in the prime of his current life cycle, Dumbledore himself looked tired, more so than Harry had ever seen him. Despite this his blue eyes still twinkled behind his half-moon glasses and he paused only to offer Harry a lemon drop before getting to business.

"I apologise for pulling you away from your friends, but there is something rather urgent I must discuss with you." Harry waited quietly for him to continue, "As you are aware we are in something of a delicate situation here. Mr Riddle is a problem, a problem without a clear solution."

"I'm sorry sir, but why didn't you just hand him over to the aurors last summer." Harry did his best to prevent his voice from becoming accusatory.

Dumbledore didn't seem to mind the interruption, "You may have noticed the Minister for Magic is doing his best to close his eyes to what has happened. Cornelius simply cannot face the idea that Voldemort could have returned in any form, nor that his death eaters could pose a threat. I'm afraid to say that he has taken the position that I have orchestrated all this in an attempt to oust him from leadership."

"But that's absurd!" Harry exclaimed.

"Indeed." The Headmaster sighed. "However the fact remains that Cornelius believes in this delusion. He has even gone so far as to send his Senior Undersecretary to spy on me."

"Umbridge." Harry breathed, "She's crazy, sir. She expects us to pass our OWLs without ever even performing the spells!"

"Professor Umbridge, as we must now refer to her, is certainly… unconventional in her methods. I believe she acts under the ministers instruction; Cornelius Fudge has deluded himself to the point of viewing the students of Hogwarts as an army, poised at my command. He doesn't want you all trained to defeat him."

"WHAT?" Harry was incredulous.

"As ridiculous as it is I believe we have more important matters to discuss, if you will allow me? There is a very real danger that Voldemort will recover his memories. If he does, well, I don't need to explain to you the extent of the disaster that would be. Throughout the year, I would like you to attend certain 'lessons' here with me. Together we will take a journey through the eyes of Lord Voldemort in the hope of discovering a 'contingency plan' if you will. I wish to discover the likelihood of Voldemort regaining his memories and, hopefully, confirm an idea I have about a possible way to win this war if the worst should happen."

"Sir," Harry paused, wondering how best to voice Hermione's concern, "If it's a possibility that he would get his memory back, isn't it dangerous to have him at Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore seemed to sag slightly, as if the weight of his responsibility were a burden pushing him down. "What would you have me do Harry? Kill the boy?"

Harry didn't reply so the headmaster continued, "I fear at this point, even were we willing to sink to his level, it would not be possible. I believe Voldemort placed powerful safeguards against his own death using the darkest of magic. It would be dangerous to try until we are fully aware of the possible repercussions. The best alternative is to have him where I can see him, and where better than Hogwarts?" Dumbledore's serious eyes speared Harry over the tops of his lenses. "I assure you Harry I would not have brought him to this place unless I was sure the students were protected."

Harry felt himself blush as shame swept through him. "I know that, I'm sorry sir."

"I have one other task for you, Harry. If Voldemort does regain his memories, we need to know about it soon as possible. I want you to watch him. You're one of only seven people in this school who know Tom Riddle's true identity, if you spot anything to suggest he remembers the last 50 years I want you to come to me immediately."

"You want me to spy on him?" Harry asked, how on earth could he do that without Riddle noticing?

"To put it bluntly, yes." Dumbledore replied gravely, "This is very important Harry, will you do this for me?"

"Yes sir." Despite his reservations Harry answered without hesitation.

"Thank you Harry." He glanced at the old grandfather clock on the office wall. "Ah, I fear I have kept you too long m'boy, you'll have to hurry to reach Gryffindor tower before curfew. I shall send another note once we are ready to begin our lessons, until then watch Riddle."

Harry recognised the dismissal, "Yes sir," He replied as he got up to leave the office, thoughts whirling around his head faster than a flock of owls.

He was halfway back through the secret passageway when he heard footsteps coming from the other direction. He hadn't hurried with so much to think about, and it was almost certainly after curfew by now. He froze, he was too far along the passage to turn back before whoever it was saw him. He whirled to the side quietly as possible and hid behind a tapestry a little further along the wall, wishing futilely for his invisibility cloak still locked away tight in his trunk. The steps were about to round the curve in the passageway. If whoever it was happened to be lighting their way then they would surely see the bulge in the tapestry that gave him away. If he was lucky and they weren't, then they might just not notice it.

The steps walked slowly towards his hiding spot. Harry could hear their owner breathing slowly, in time to the measured clicks of their heels on the stone floor. They reached level with him, and then passed. Harry let out a silent breath of relief. Not silent enough - the steps stopped. He heard a thud and stood still as possible, not daring even to breathe. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, sure it would give him away. All he could hope for was that it was just another student out of bed on the other side of the tapestry, not a teacher or a prefect.

The fabric was ripped violently to the side, revealing a wand an inch from Harry's nose, tip illuminated so brightly it almost blinded him after the darkness behind the thick tapestry. It's owner stepped back, and Harry heard a cold laugh that sent ice to the pit of his stomach.

"Potter, you've been avoiding me."