Wow, I actually updated within a decent time frame. Anywho, I don't own anything you recognise. I'm sure everybody knows that, but you never know.
Warning – Paedophilia is mentioned once in this chapter. And I literally mean mentioned; no acts are described and never will be.
X
When Harry started to wake up the next morning the first thing he noticed was the lack of a warm body against his. The next thing he noticed was the fact that in place of a body was something warm and furry curled up by his side. The third thing he noticed as his eyes finally opened were a pair of beedy yellow eyes staring at him.
He jumped up in shock, making Orion jump up with him; the kitten presuming Harry wanted to play. He heard Tom snicker the other side of the room, and even Nagini seemed amused.
"You seem to be an animal person," Tom mused casually. "Animals tended to be very fond of me as a child, but I never shared the same sentiment. I enjoyed talking to the snakes though; they were the only ones I could have a decent conversation with."
"What about your parents?" Harry asked as he stood and stretched his arms above his head.
"I didn't grow up with my parents," Tom replied, and from the tone of his voice Harry decided he wouldn't pry, although he couldn't deny the curiosity he felt regarding Tom's childhood.
Harry settled for an 'hmming' noise, stroking Orion's head with a finger.
"I made the House-Elf get you some new clothes for while you stay here; they're in those drawers," Tom stated, pointing over to a set by the far wall. "I have business to attend to with the Dark Lord this morning, so you get ready while I'm away, and we'll view the gardens on my return. Come, Nagini."
The snake slithered off the bed, curling around Harry's legs as she went.
The bathroom was far more impressive than the Prefect's bathroom that Cedric had shown him once. The bathtub was sunk into the floor, the size of it like that of a swimming pool, and it was built entirely from black marble with hints of emerald green.
A glass door at the back of the bathroom led to the shower, which had the same marble on three sides. The shower room was large as well, and the water could be controlled to fall over the whole room if the user wanted.
Harry opted for the shower, thinking if he went for the bath he'd end up in there for hours.
After a blissful shower, he wrapped a fluffy towel around himself, charmed to stay warm, and wandered back into the bedroom.
As he shifted through the clothes Dobby had got for him, he realised they were all very Pure-blood-esque. During the week he had a uniform to wear, but at weekends he preferred to stay in jeans and t-shirt; a hoody when it got cold, and of course his favourite Converse All Star trainers he had collected in every colour imaginable. His usual clothing choices were very muggle, but clearly that was frowned upon by the elitist Pure-blood families. Being Half-blood meant he was just able to get away with not being Pure-blood in circles where it mattered, as long as he abandoned the muggle side of him.
He chose the most comfortable outfit he could manage, consisting of plain black trousers, a white shirt and black shirt-vest over the top, of course keeping the shirt untucked. He nicked the rainbow studded belt from his jeans, which was just visible from under the shirt, and kept his black converse on so he'd at least feel like he wasn't a business man.
He found it rather ironic that wizards and witches who detested muggles still wore suits and smarter clothing types despite the fact muggles wore similar. The tailoring was somewhat different, and there were features which were not found in muggle fashion, but the general idea was the same. Long gone were the days when magical humans wore robes with nothing underneath; he supposed it was a modesty thing. There were, of course, some who wore more unusual clothing, like Bellatrix Lestrange who tended to stick to medieval-type dresses.
Harry really wanted to go back to the part of the library he had been in before, but not wanting to risk running into someone, he instead picked up one of the books Tom had given him.
The one he grabbed was entitled 'Dark Magic in Ancient Egypt', which contained the history and present-day usage of Dark magic in Egypt.
He curled up in one of the armchairs, Orion jumping onto his lap almost instantly. Although it made holding the book significantly more awkward, he didn't have the heart to kick the kitten off him.
Apparently Dark magic had been commonly used in Egypt throughout the ages, and although Dark magic was viewed as something dangerous and harmful, Dark spells weren't necessarily aimed at hurting somebody, rather they used different energies from the magical core and generally had somewhat shifty ethics. So despite the fact some ancient wizards would use Dark magic to punish their slaves, the majority of the time it was used for bettering Wizarding and Muggle society, as at the time they were combined.
He had managed to read the introduction before Tom returned, and the older boy looked approving of Harry reading.
He offered his hand to Harry, pulling the teenage up, Orion jumping from his lap with a hiss.
Tom waved his wand, casting a non-verbal spell. It appeared to have no effect, but Tom's smirked suggested otherwise.
"It's somewhat of a variation of the Disillusionment charm," Tom explained. "Rather than disguising us entirely, it has formed a shield around us which won't allow anyone from the outside to see us through it. It's a spell I created after I was freed from the diary."
"Impressive," Harry muttered, grinning at the Dark wizard.
Tom's smirk grew stronger, the man apparently confidant in his abilities.
"It doesn't cause complete sensory deprivation, however," Tom continued, indicating for Harry to follow him from the room "so I'd recommend that you stay quiet whilst we're in the manor."
Harry obeyed, keeping silent as they made their way through the hallway, which was empty, however when they turned into another passageway there were a number of men dressed in dark cloaks moving around. Tom grasped hold of Harry's wrist to manoeuver their way through without knocking into anyone. He presumed that Tom, Voldemort and Narcissa must be the only ones who knew about him at the moment.
They eventually reached the large glass doors which led out into the gardens. Even from inside Harry could see that they were vast, with high hedges scattered about and a forest just beyond.
"Impressive, aren't they?" said Tom as he pushed the door open and led Harry outside. "The forest and fields around the front don't specifically belong to the Malfoy family, but they've been charmed to keep unwanted visitors out." Tom's lip curled cruelly.
Now they were outside, the length of the gardens seemed to be even greater, stretching far back towards the trees. It was beautiful, but much like the rest of the home, it wasn't really a family setting; it was too pristine and perfect.
"It's lovely," Harry agreed as they walked, heading through a gate which opened into a wide area taken up mostly by a lake which was lined with exotic trees that were clearly not usually found in Britain.
Tom took hold of Harry's hand, linking their fingers together.
"How's school going?" Tom asked, the normalcy of the question taking Harry aback; Tom had been rather obsessed by joint immortality lately.
"Err, okay, I guess. It's hard, but it's N.E.W.T level so it's expected," Harry answered with a shrug. "I managed to get into Potions, and thanks to this old textbook I found I'm probably one of the best in the class at the moment, although that might just be because we have a better teacher than Snape ever was."
"Snape isn't teaching Potions anymore?" Tom asked sharply, and Harry nodded. "Peculiar how he didn't mention that. Who's your professor now?"
"Professor Slughorn…so is Snape really a Death Eater then? Because Dad always calls him that but Mum denies it all the time and-"
"Slughorn, you say?" Tom interrupted, completely ignoring what Harry was saying.
"Yeah, I heard Dumbledore was pretty desperate to get him back to teach for some reason."
"Slughorn taught back in my day. I was his favourite student at the time; I suppose he was my favourite professor-he certainly gave me the most useful information. Has he restarted that little club he had going?"
"The Slug-Club?" Yeah, me and my sister got automatically invited into it because he adored our mother."
"Slughorn never used to care for Muggle-born students," Tom mused. "Strange how when times change, people do too. Dumbledore's clearly brought him back for a reason; I have my theories, but I'd like you to stick close to him. He's a gullible man who's easy to fool."
Harry nodded, and Tom seemed pleased. They had made their way around the lake by now, Tom having a brisk step, and were walking upwards past stone statues of the Malfoy ancestors. Harry could see Luna and Draco amongst a flower garden, Luna on her hands and knees, digging through the plants. Draco was actually smiling at her antics; very different when he thought nobody could see him.
"So, is Snape a Death Eater?" Harry repeated his question from earlier, looking away from his friend.
"Apparently. I'm not convinced his loyalties truly lie with us, but then again I doubt he is entirely on Dumbledore's side either. Both Voldemort and Dumbledore trust him entirely however, and he does have his assets. I heard some rather interesting things about his involvement regarding the Longbottom family."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, but Tom shook his head.
"You'll have to find that out for yourself; your family is quite involved in the story and I don't have all the details; I shouldn't like to mislead you. Now, do you remember that parchment you had in the library yesterday?"
"The Horcrux thing?" Harry questioned, making Tom nod.
"Do you have any idea what a Horcrux is?" the older boy asked, and Harry shrugged.
"I know it's something to make somebody immortal, or at least come back to their body after death. Some soul-splitting is involved too?"
"That's the very basics of it. I must emphasise the word 'basic' there; it is a much more complicated piece of magic than that. The actual creation of a Horcrux is difficult to master, although most only get a single chance at it because failure tends to result in death, but when successful, one can place a piece of their soul in an object which will enable them to return to the living world after their body has been destroyed by death."
"Is that what everyone meant when they said the Dark Lord wasn't really dead? A lot of people thought that even though he was hit by the Killing Curse, he was still alive somewhere in some form, and now he's back entirely. Did he have a Horcrux?"
Tom nodded, a dark expression on his face. "He has five; he originally had six but the soul encased in the diary enabled me to return to life. The Dark Lord believes having me in place of a Horcrux is more beneficial, as a Horcrux can be more easily destroyed. Now, Slughorn is the man who first told me what I needed to know to create a Horcrux; I believe Dumbledore has his suspicions but cannot be sure, which is why he needs Slughorn at the school."
"So you want me to stop Slughorn telling?" Harry asked, almost falling over when Tom stopped abruptly.
"Oh no, Harry, I want you to make sure they find out," Tom said, a cruel smile crossing his face.
"But wouldn't-?" Harry started, but Tom cut him off with a wave of his hand, and he leant in close to Harry's ear.
"It is not possible to destroy the Dark Lord at the moment. Why would I risk my own life to destroy the Horcruxes myself when I can get Dumbledore and his lackeys do it for me? They know nothing of me; they'll take down the Dark Lord, then I take down them. I said it would be the two of us, and I meant the two of us; Voldemort won't be part of it. He's nothing more than a monster, lost in insanity. Now I see what mistakes I made, I can avoid them this time round."
Harry didn't even get time to think about the revelation Tom had just made, because Tom's lips were suddenly eagerly devouring his, and Harry willingly allowed his thoughts to be carried away.
He pouted when Tom pulled away, their fingers still entwined. Tom tugged Harry forward again, until Tom's free hand was moving over a marking on a tree. There were a line of trees, spread out openly, which seemed to symbolise the end of the Malfoy gardens rather than using a wall. Beyond that was a small stretch of grass before the forest began.
"Those beasts need to be checked again," Tom was scowling.
"What beasts?" Harry asked, trying to peer into the vast darkness of the forest.
"The werewolves; they live in the forest because Greyback believes they should live in the wild. They're charmed to stay away during the Full Moon, but Greyback enjoys pushing boundaries."
"They're not beasts-not all of them anyway," Harry said quietly.
"What?" Tom said stormily, turning away from the tree to eye Harry unblinkingly.
"Not all werewolves are beasts. I know ones like Greyback are, but Remus Lupin would never hurt a soul, and he's had such a hard life because of people judging him on something he can't control. He'd give anything to stop the transformation, but he can't, and that's not his fault."
Harry had always felt very strongly for creature rights. Growing up with a werewolf practically living in the house meant Harry hated creature prejudice from a very young age.
"Ah, Lupin; he certainly isn't so innocent anymore; he may not have killed anyone but he's assisting Greyback with research to help make the clan more efficient."
"Remus is out there?" Harry asked, already making a move to run into the trees, if only Tom's grip wasn't so strong.
"I won't allow you to go in there; I will bring Remus to you on your next visit. You're young, which is how Greyback likes them; he'd eat you alive, and likely do awful things to you beforehand; he has no problem with raping children."
Tom changed the subject after that, which Harry was very grateful for, and they finished their walk around the entire grounds, before Harry, Draco and Luna returned to Hogwarts.
X
Harry was incredibly busy the first two days the next week. Draco had asked him to do his Transfiguration homework for him, because apparently McGonagall was an old bat and her work was the least important, at least in Draco's eyes, so he had that to work on as well as his own studies. He was still trying to figure out a way to work his way into the Golden Trio and stay in the good books of Professor Slughorn.
The latter became considerably easier on Tuesday after Potions, when Slughorn came over to Harry, Neville and Hermione and invited them to a special dinner on Friday night. Harry didn't miss the jealous glances Ron was throwing their way.
He mentioned it to Lavender on their way out of the class, and the girl almost immediately ran to a bewildered Ron trying to emphasise with him. Cue Hermione's jealous glare.
The next day after classes Harry found himself wandering towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. It felt like ages since he had been in anxiously awaiting Tom's return. It was ironic the bathroom never came into the picture again, though the monster that had been petrifying the students had never been reported as being caught or killed, so there was always the possibility of it's return.
"So you've finally come back, have you?" Myrtle greeted upon seeing him. "You used to come every day, but I've been alone for ages."
Harry had rarely spoken to the ghost in the past, so he wasn't sure why she had missed his presence so much, but he imagined being a ghost could get pretty lonely.
"Sorry, I'll try and come by more often," he apologised, but Myrtle didn't look happy.
"That's what they all say," she said sadly, sulking off into a stall.
Harry rolled his eyes at Myrtle's antics, and walked over to the sink which covered the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, running his fingers over the carved serpents on the taps.
He jumped when the door banged open, and then Ginny was storming inside, her eyes red rimmed.
"Sorry, I didn't realise anyone would be in here," she said apologetically, but her voice sounded hoarse.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked with concern.
Ginny shrugged at him, but her eyes had started to tear up again. Harry inwardly winced; he wasn't particularly good at comforting people.
"I've been fighting with Dean again," Ginny told him, wiping her eyes furiously before any tears could fall. "When we're not fighting we have a really good time, but sometimes he's just so infuriating and our arguments get pretty bad."
"What do you argue about?" Harry asked, hoping he didn't sound too invasive, but Ginny seemed glad at the chance to open up. At least she had stopped tearing up now.
"He insists on following all these supposedly romantic traditions, but half the time they just make me feel like some useless doll, but he can't understand that. I know most girls would love a boyfriend who treated them like a princess, but I'm not that girl."
"What are you doing about it then?" Harry asked, looking at Ginny pointedly. The girl stared back, a thoughtful glint in her eyes.
"I can't decide. I really do like Dean, but these fights are getting out of hand," she mused.
"Well I'm not going to tell you what to do, " Harry told her, "but I think there's somebody out there who you're more compatible with, but if you can put up with arguments and Dean makes you happy otherwise, then stay with him."
Ginny nodded, still looking like she was debating with herself. After a while she laughed gently and shook her head.
"I have the worst luck with boys," she muttered. "My first crush was on you; oh I was so disappointed when I found out you were gay. Michael Corner was a sore loser; I mean, I'm competitive, but I don't sulk when I lose. Now Dean's too nice, and Neville has a crush on me but I can't tell him I don't feel that way because he's basically part of the family and it would make things too awkward."
Harry managed to get over the bewilderment of Ginny having had a crush on him when they were younger, and instead smiled at Ginny.
"Well, let's find you somebody with the right requirements," Harry suggested, only half joking. Ginny seemed to catch onto the non-joking part.
"So from my previous list, I need somebody who's straight, competitive but not a sore loser, nice but not too nice, and who doesn't feel like a brother," she retorted with a grin. Harry was glad to see she had cheered up somewhat. "Are you invited to Slughorn's dinner on Friday?"
"Yeah, why?" he answered, glad the subject had changed.
"I got an invite too; so did Neville and Hermione. We should all go together."
"Sure," Harry agreed; it would give the perfect opportunity to talk to Neville.
X
That Friday evening came round quickly, and Harry was reading in the Gryffindor Common Room while he waited for the others to get ready. Draco had inspired him to re-read Lord of the Rings, and he was so drawn into the story that he jumped when Neville cleared his throat next to him.
"Hi," Longbottom greeted, smiling at Harry, who decided he couldn't be bothered with smiling back. He simply nodded in acknowledgment.
"Err, are you looking forward to tonight?" Neville asked awkwardly, and Harry inwardly sighed, knowing he'd have to make conversation.
"Not particularly," he answered honestly. "It just seems an excuse for people to show-off."
"Yeah, I thought that on the train, but at least Slughorn will pay attention to us in class. He doesn't even know Ron's name."
Ron was currently sat playing chess against a third year student, a miserable look across his face. Lavender was watching the game with far too much interest to be natural. She kept on flipping her hair, but Ron never showed any sign of noticing.
"Slughorn really likes you anyway," Harry pointed out. "Ginny mentioned you knew about him before anyone else did."
"Dumbledore brought me with him when he was trying to get Slughorn to come back," Neville explained. "Thought it might be a bit more incentive for him, I guess."
Harry almost rolled his eyes at how that sounded.
"I heard he taught here for years," Harry carried on. "Way back when You-Know-Who was in school." Harry was sure not use the name Voldemort or the Dark Lord around the Gryffindor students.
"Strange thinking like that; like he used to be a student just like us," Neville muttered, and Harry did roll his eyes this time.
"He did used to be a student just like us," Harry argued.
"Well, yeah, but he was evil even then. Only Dumbledore could see it though," Neville said bitterly.
'Good Old Dumbles,' Harry thought to himself sarcastically. "Shame that. He could have just expelled him and you wouldn't have to fight to the death now."
Neville paled at those words. "I d-don't know what you mean. Those Chosen One rumours are just that - rumours."
"Then why has Dumbledore been giving you all those extra lessons? It's not fair if you get to train to stay alive when the rest of us only have basic Defence training." Harry was ranting about the first thing that came to his head, but it seemed to work. Neville looked around him, beckoning Harry closer.
"I'm not training to fight," he confided. "We're not doing anything that beneficial really. Dumbledore just wants me to learn the history of Voldemort so I understand who we're all up against; that's all. But Dumbledore knows what he's doing."
"Sorry for snapping at you," Harry said, not sorry at all. "It's just been so stressful with this war, especially having loved ones in the Order; it just makes everything seem worse."
Neville nodded, an understanding look in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione and Ginny had come over to join them now. Hermione's eyes glanced over the book title and she rolled her eyes, making Harry want to attack her with every fantasy and sci-fi book he owned, which would have taken a long time considering how many he owned. He said nothing though, and then they were on their way.
They walked to the meeting room together, Ginny and Harry feeling slightly left out as Hermione and Neville seemed to be talking closely, obviously not wanting to be over-heard by anyone.
They arrived at the room and Slughorn greeted them cheerfully, guiding them into the dining area. Harry immediately noticed Heather hadn't got an invite, and he felt a brief moment of pity for his sister, who Harry knew craved popularity and attention. It only lasted a moment though, and then he had to grin to himself knowing how annoyed she'd be.
He purposefully sat next to Hermione, leaving a gap between him and Blaise Zabini for Ginny to sit in; he had seen how well the pair had got on before. He seemed to be playing matchmaker a lot lately, and he cursed his mother because she had clearly passed down some of her interfering gene onto him.
The dinner passed as Harry expected it to; Slughorn went round everyone at the table, asking for more information about their families, with the exception of Neville, Hermione and Ginny who were asked about their own skills. Slughorn brought up Harry's Potion skills, not knowing Harry had a textbook teaching him all he needed to know, so he awkwardly stammered his way through that conversation.
Harry hung back once everyone started to leave; he wanted to talk to Slughorn alone, although he had no idea what he wanted to say to the professor.
"Harry, m'boy, what can I do for you?" Slughorn asked once everyone had vacated the room. The professor poured himself a glass of brandy, chuckling to himself.
"I just wanted to know a bit more about my mother when she was at school; she doesn't tend to tell me much," Harry made-up on the spot, but as Tom stated before, Slughorn was gullible and the man easily fell for the lie.
"Ah, yes, Lily has always been modest about herself. Very talented, you know? One of the best students I've ever taught, surprising considering her upbringing. Not that I'm against Muggle-borns, or anything," he added hastily, "but for someone thrown into something so new and different she caught on quick. Always polite as well, never a bad word to say to anyone, well except perhaps your father." Slughorn laughed again, and even Harry had to smile imagining his parents in their youth; they may annoy him at times, but he thought they had a beautiful love story.
"So what were your other favourite students like? I know you taught for a very long time," Harry asked, trying to see if Slughorn would mention Tom.
"Oh, there's been a few; all of them were great at school and have gone onto great things. Mildred Miller was the first female to become a professional Quidditch player, and-"
"Neville said you taught You-Know-Who as well. Is that true?" Harry asked, cutting to the point. The joy seemed to leave Slughorn's face at his words.
"Yes, I did," he said almost sadly. "Of course I didn't know what he would become; none of us did."
"Forgive me, sir, I was just curious," Harry smiled; Slughorn clearly didn't want to talk at the moment, for he had started to tidy up the plates and glasses from the table without the use of magic.
"Of course; a young boy's mind is bound to be inquisitive, especially considering your past with the man."
"What past?" Harry asked slowly; Tom had mentioned something to do with his family past earlier in the week; perhaps they were talking about the same thing.
"Didn't they ever tell you?" Slughorn asked shocked. "I suppose if Lily wanted to protect you from the information it's not my place to tell."
"No," Harry said quickly, "she's just protective because she's my mother. I can handle things; would you have kept information from her because you thought she was too young?"
"No, no, I suppose I wouldn't have," Slughorn muttered, taking a big sip from his brandy. "I'm afraid I can't tell you much because I only know the basics. All I got told by your mother is that she wouldn't be talking to me for some time because you all had to go into hiding from You-Know-Who. She wouldn't tell me why you were targeted, but you came out of hiding after his defeat and she never mentioned it again. I'm sorry I can't be more help."
Harry wasn't sorry though; that had given him a very good head-start.
He bid Slughorn goodnight, and had only taken a few steps out the door when he was accosted by Draco Malfoy.
"Come with me," Malfoy hissed, his hand gripping Harry's upper arm tightly as he dragged him along.
Draco pulled him through the corridors until he stopped abruptly, pacing three times in front of a blank wall until a door appeared.
The door led to a room full of items that had been piled on top of each other, balancing precariously, as if one thing moved would send whole towers crashing down.
Draco released his grip on Harry's arm, and the Gryffindor cautiously followed him through the room, stopping at a large object covered by a dust-covered sheet.
Draco yanked the material down, revealing a large brown cabinet with an intricate design. It looked like it opened down the middle.
"Lord Riddle demanded I show you this," Draco stated, sounding rather displeased with the fact.
"What is it?" Harry asked, reaching a hand out to touch the woodwork but Malfoy batted his hand away.
"It's a Vanishing Cabinet; broken at the moment. I need it fixing, and Riddle is insisting you're better off helping me directly rather than running errands."
"You don't sound too happy about that," Harry pointed out, and Draco shrugged.
"I wanted the opportunity to prove myself to the Dark Lord, but the sooner I get this done, the sooner Father will be freed from Azkaban. Of course the Dark Lord isn't to know of your assistance."
"So you're breaking the Dark Lord's orders to follow his son's?"
"Riddle can be just as cruel as the Dark Lord, but he's also more mentally stable. There's talk among the Death Eaters that Riddle will be a far greater Dark wizard than any other, and to please him is more important than pleasing the Dark Lord. Though his regime is great, his obsession with Dumbledore and Longbottom holds us all back."
No wonder Tom was so confident about taking over from Voldemort; he already had a willing group of followers. Even if Voldemort had seen the Death Eater's views, Harry suspected the man was a narcissist, and thus believed he would always be far greater than Tom, Dumbledore and Neville and would forever remain undefeated. Harry did hope the Dark Lord never realised Harry was using information he read in his mum's muggle psychology textbooks to analyse him.
He drew his thoughts away from Voldemort and back onto the Vanishing Cabinet.
"How's it broken?" he asked, walking around the object to study it all.
"I'm still in the process of finding that out," Draco muttered, looking thoughtful.
"Would you mind if Luna had a look? You don't have to tell her anything about it, but she took an oath to stay silent about whatever I tell her. She's really good at inventing things, and probably fixing them too."
"Fine, but no matter what you both do, I'm taking the credit," Draco asserted. "Lovegood already knows I carry the Dark Mark. She said it was unusual I've never worn short sleeves since returning after summer; not even my closest friends realised that."
"Yeah, she's annoyingly observant," Harry grinned, and even Malfoy smiled.
"I'll say," he murmured, remembering himself after a moment and re-applying his façade. "Meet me tomorrow, usual time. Goodnight."
Then Malfoy was storming from the room, leaving Harry alone.
On his way out, Harry managed to knock slightly into a one of the towering piles of mismatched items. Fortunately only something small fell to the floor, landing at his feet.
The item seemed to be calling to him however, and when he picked it up, he felt a welcoming jolt run through him.
And so he decided to keep the diadem.
X
I hope you enjoyed the chapter.