A/N: Hello, people!
I don't own Harry Potter.
I have no beta.
ENJOY!
CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. THE LINK IS ON MY PROFILE. I FOLLOW BACK.
*****So, some people seem to think that Tom is just a dream. He's real. He's a teen from the 40s, somehow transporting himself into the future, every few months. The future he ends up in, is Harry's present time.
Tom made the diary a Horcrux. Harry got his hands on it and the Diary Tom didn't know anything about Harry past the boy's eighth birthday. Each Horcrux would have stopped at a stage like that.****
Harry sat up in his bed, rubbing his forehead. His scar burned. It hadn't burned in a while. All because of the dream.
He sat up and pulled the diary out from under his pillow.
Tom?
My scar is burning again.
I had a strange dream.
The teen Horcrux replied quickly.
What happened in this dream?
Harry frowned as he tried to remember the details.
It was nighttime.
I was in a house and when I looked up, the rickety looking house up on the hill, was dark, except for a light in the window.
I could feel myself getting angry and I turned the hob off in order to fetch my boots.
I grabbed a torch and a ring of keys and proceeded to climb the large hill.
Inside the old house, I could hear voices.
I was being sneaky, trying not to get caught.
I took the stairs slowly, trying not to be heard.
The voices are louder and I can see a door that is partially opened. There was a chair and a mousy looking man kneeling before it, calling the person sitting in it, 'My lord.'.
He made a suggestion and a whispery voice yelled, 'No! Use the boy.'.
Before I could wonder what was going on, a snake slithered by me and up the remaining steps.
When it entered the room, she began hissing to Voldemort that I was standing outside the door.
The mousy man stood up and looked to the door.
When he opened it, a green light came out of nowhere.
I then woke up and my scar was burning.
Harry waited for Tom.
Every time your scar burns, Voldemort is involved.
So perhaps this was more of a vision, instead of a dream.
It's too detailed.
The fact that you remembered so much of it in detail is astounding.
Harry's heart leapt in his throat.
So you think Voldemort is working behind the scenes?
Biding his time?
Should I up my training?
Tom was encouraging.
More training can never go amiss.
Tom Riddle fumed to himself. Dippet wanted him to get one more year of experience before hiring him. And There was Dumbledore behind him, offering up five years. Saying that Tom had to 'grow up and become a young man' and that he needed to study up on more branches of magic.
Who did that meddling old fool think he was? How dare he try to ruin Tom's plans!
Tom glared at the old counter of Borgin and Burkes. He was the helper. A year of minimal work, connecting with as many dark families as he could would benefit him somewhat, but not much.
At least he had full access to all the books in the store. He couldn't think of anything better than getting to read old Parselmagic tomes and taking notes on them, without having to pay for them.
Borgin was a shady character and he certainly excelled in selling people overpriced dark items. However, the pay was rather good and Tom just allowed it to build up in his personal vault.
Harry had been through a shock when Sirius Black purchased him some tickets to the Quidditch World Cup. The man had cried(he did, though he denied it), saying that he hoped they made up for twelve years of suffering at the hands of Lily's sister. No one liked Petunia.
Harry had a ticket for himself, as well as Neville, and Hermione. The bushy haired Ravenclaw came to Winsidoor Hall early in August, to spend the rest of the summer with he and Neville.
Harry liked Quidditch. That is, he liked playing Quidditch. He never actually attended any of the games he didn't play. He, Hermione, and Neville preferred to be in the school where barely anyone was present, than to remain fixed on a game that had such bad players, they couldn't remain interested.
The difference from being on a broom to being in the crowd, was astounding.
Sirius got them special tickets, because the Minister and a few others - including the Malfoy and the Weasley families - would be sitting in the Top Box. Fred and George were tasked with watching over them.
Ireland won, but the Bulgarian Team's Seeker caught the Snitch. It was an impressive amount of aerial work and with Fred and George explaining the various maneuvers and what they were used for, Harry decided he'd purchase a book on Quidditch tactics later on. The Wronski Feint looked wicked!
Harry learned of Veela and he also learned that they did not affect him in the least. Hermione huffed as she explained the Veela allure to him. Neville was busy watching something on the Omnioculars at the time and never even saw the Veela.
Gran appeared after the game and immediately Apparated them home after thanking the Weasleys for watching them.
The three fell asleep that night with no worries.
The next morning however, the various magical newspapers were awash with news that there was an attack at the Cup not too long after the game ended. The end result was someone casting the sign of Voldemort in the sky above the grounds.
A letter from the twins informed them that the people who attacked were dressed up like Death Eaters. Voldemort's followers. Add them and the mark in the sky, and it sounded very much like the Dark Lord was trying to gain attention once more. Of course the British Minister denied all such possibility of Voldemort returning to power and simply stated that it was the work of some poor upstarts riding on the memory of the coattails of the most prominent dark figure in history, attempting to make a name for themselves.
Fudge was pathetic as a Minister.
Harry's year began with an interesting twist.
The Triwizard Tournament would be held within Hogwarts this year. The delegates from both Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, who would be visiting the school for the duration of the tournament, would be arriving in October.
Everyone was super excited about that. That and the fact that the new Defense professor was a former Auror responsible for arresting about thirty-five percent of the inmates in Azkaban. The man was mad as a hatter but certainly was good at what he did and succeeded in scaring most of the students in the school within the first week of school.
Since Hogwarts was hosting, McGonagall made it her mission to impress upon them all that proper decorum was expected. They were representing all of Britain. They were to assert their superiority as the greatest magical school in the world.
Technically it wasn't the greatest. The others offered more courses and weren't biased against dark magic. Harry hadn't really cared because every time Tom appeared, he wrote down notes for Harry to study up on. Parselmagic was considered dark magic and Harry had no issue using it. It protected him for years. Why would he think it was bad?
Manners. Harry sighed. Being in Slytherin as fine and all, but constantly wearing the masks around people was tiring at times. He didn't feel the need to posture in front of people he didn't know nor care for. He was Harry Potter. He was amazing. Not because he was the Boy-Who-Lived, but because was simply the most talented wizard student in the school. Simple. He didn't need to pretend to be great, it came naturally.
The day The Defense professor taught about the Unforgivable Curses, left Harry a bit shaken up. He had known about them. Had seen the Killing Curse cast at him several times due to memories and visions. He never knew what it looked like for someone to be killed and to be able to understand it.
Moody killed the spider after Hermione refused to give the name of the Killing Curse. Harry didn't like how the creature's legs curled in on itself as it was silenced permanently.
And then Moody made it a point to mention that Harry was the only known survivor.
That would have been bad enough, except he decided to test out the Imperius on the students and it came into light that Harry wasn't affected at all by the Imperius Curse.
Rumors about his ability and greatness began to spread.
When the delegates from the two schools arrived, poor Harry was ready to rip his hair out. He didn't want to hear anymore about the TWT, or about how amazing he was. He just wanted to go through school and spend time with friends.
Beauxbatons and Durmstrang didn't impress him. The Headmistress of the French school was definitely someone Hagrid was interested in though. And the Highmaster of Durmstrang knew Snape somehow. The Durmstrang delegates were lodging with the Slytherins.
The Goblet of Fire was large, old, and in his opinion, slightly dirty. The blue flames coming out of it were pretty though.
McGonagall had apparently had a talk with the Minister and the Ministers of France and Norway. They all agreed that fifth years and up could compete. Except for Beauxbatons, which had only six years, so it would be fourth years and up for them.
Every other person in Harry's year was complaining about not being able to join. That it would have been a 'great honor'. Harry didn't know the names of any of the former victors, so obviously the 'eternal glory' aspect of the competition was a complete piece of rubbish that was used sensationally to arouse people's desires to be wanted and known.
The night the champions were chosen, was terrible in Harry's opinion.
"The champion for Beauxbatons in Fleur Delacour!"
"The champion for Durmstrang is Viktor Krum!"
"The champion for Hogwarts is Cedric Diggory!"
The cheering had gone on until the Goblet of Fire acted up and the blue flames turned red. They then spit out another name.
McGonagall stared at the ripped parchment and turned it around.
"Someone ripped a student's name off a piece of their Charms assignment and put it in the Goblet," she announced. The room went quiet with a loud hush.
The woman looked around. "I know this student is too young to compete. I put all manner or protections around the Goblet," she explained. "No one under fifth year could pass the Age Line. The name had to be written specifically by the student who wanted to compete. Did any of the older students put a younger student's name into the Goblet?"
No one answered.
"This is no game. These tournaments are deadly. Children have died in extreme cases. Some have been permanently damaged."
When the student's did not respond, she sighed. "When I call the name, if the child truly didn't enter themselves, they will have no issue with taking a truth serum or making a Magical Oath. If this student did have someone enter their name, being in this tournament will not excuse them from punishment."
They all waited.
"Harry Potter."
Harry's Slytherin composure broke for a moment and his mouth dropped. His entire House turned to him, as well as the other students. The others glared at him accusingly and several people began to yell that he was a cheater.
The teen stood swiftly and faced his Headmistress. With his head held high, he proudly stated, "I, Harry James Potter, Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble Houses of Potter and Black, do hereby swear upon my life and my magic that I did not enter the tournament. That I did not ask someone to enter me into the tournament. That I want nothing to do with the tournament. That I didn't not want someone to enter me into the tournament. That I will get revenge upon the one who entered me into the tournament. So I have sworn it, so mote it be."
Tom had taught him about Oaths and Unbreakable Vows. He knew some could be risky, which was why he worded his so carefully.
The only good thing that truly came from being entered into the tournament, was his lordships. Being entered into a magically binding contract meant for people of an age much older than him, alerted Gringotts.
He was allowed to assume lordship of his two Houses now and as such, could enter all the vaults in his possession, no matter who owned them. Meaning two vaults belonging to a Death Eater/Dark Sympathizer, were under his control.
Harry's training was suddenly advanced, now that he had more knowledge at his disposal.
Harry found Hufflepuff's Cup in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault.
***Tom Riddle stared down at the teen in front of him.
Harry was growing, slowly but surely. The boy looked more dainty and feminine and did not appreciate being told such. But it was truth.
His hair was longer and touched his shoulder. His eyes sparkled brighter these days. He looked a lot better in terms of health.
"What has happened since I saw you last?"
"Death Eaters attacked the Quidditch World Cup and left the Dark Mark in the sky."
Tom's face paled and then turned red. "Were you around?"
"No."
"Were there deaths?"
"Many."
The older teen sighed.
Harry handed him the diary. "Tom and I were talking about some things. He could pull up the conversation for you."
A few moments later, Tom placed the book down. "He's made his move."
"Apparently."
"And you were entered into this tournament and must compete?"
"Or I lose my magic."
"Oh, lovely," the older Slytherin answered blandly.
"So can I freely use my Parseltongue now?"
Tom placed a hand on his head. "Be careful, okay? You can make a lot of enemies with it."
Harry shrugged the hand off and smiled, "I'll be okay, I promise."
"I'm not comforted."
Harry shrugged and laid back, curling onto his side.
"How old are you now?"
"Eighteen. Dippet want me to wait till September before hiring me for the Defense position. I've been working in Knockturn Alley since."
"Is it fun?"
"I rarely have fun. I've never actually had fun. What is considered to be fun?"
Harry shrugged, "Stuff you do over and over I guess. Something you like to do and wouldn't mind a repeat performance."
Tom had to think about that. There were a lot of things he did 'over and over'. Just because he felt content or eager, did not mean that he was having fun.
"Tom, I have a problem."
He turned to the boy and tilted his head expectantly.
"I saw a pretty girl…"
Tom's mouth tightened at the thought of Harry showing interest in someone else. He didn't like competing for attention.
"She had dark hair and light colored eyes. I was going to introduce myself, but when I got closer, I noticed something and ended up running away."
Ah, teenage angst and emotions. Something Tom did not suffer from. Never had, never would.
"What was the problem then?" he asked, in order to get Harry to continue. Be supportive or something.
"She turned to look at me and I noticed… she wasn't a girl."
Understanding flowed through Tom. Harry saw a very attractive boy and mistook him for a girl. And now he was having a sexual identity crisis. Possibly. He was still young.
"Is it okay for boys to like boys?"
"This isn't the muggle world. Most things are accepted here, including homosexuality. You do know about sex, correct?"
Harry flushed and nodded, clutching a pillow to his chest and hiding his face in it.
"Who gave you 'the talk'?"
"Hermione."
"Did she tell you about male pairings and how they work?"
Harry shook his head.
The next few hours were of the most embarrassing in the boy's life.
End of story.
On another note, Harry noticed that the boy he had thought was a girl, looked very much like Tom, once he compared them.
Strange.
A/N: Another one done!
How was it? Let me know!
Check out my other HP/LV fics!
See ya! :D
CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. THE LINK IS ON MY PROFILE. I FOLLOW BACK!