Chapter X

The next morning Tom sat down for breakfast in the Great Hall. The crows told him about Harry's job last night and he couldn't be prouder. Breaking a hard-boiled egg rather happily, the owls came in with the morning mail. Two owls landed in front of Tom, one holding his copy of the Daily Prophet, and another a small hand-written note. Tom recognized the handwriting immediately as Yaxley's. Confused, he unrolled the small piece of parchment.

How is Potter? He left my home abruptly last night.

Tom's attitude changed immediately. Anger swept inside him boiling angrily as his fists immediately tightened, his teeth gnashed together, and his eyes were turning red. He stood up abruptly, turned towards the Gryffindor Table to see Harry wasn't there. He left the Great Hall and started his way towards Gryffindor Tower. He found Harry walking down the marble staircase on the fourth floor looking tired with Ron and Hermione. He did not give the other two any acknowledgements as he grabbed Harry's arm roughly and pulled him aside. "To—"

"Shut up and follow me," Tom growled, doing his best to keep his voice low. He dragged Harry into a random corridor and the nearest classroom. He slammed the door behind them and glared at Harry. "What did you do?" He demanded.

"Wha—"

"What did you do Harry!" Tom demanded again. He threw the piece of parchment at Harry, who caught it. "Yaxley knows," he said.

Harry read the note and frowned. "I… I don't know," he said. "I didn't say my name or anything!"

"I know that, but you did something that made the man realize who you are," Tom said.

"I did nothing that I would normally do!" Harry yelled. "I had the mask on, I used your wand… I don't know how he could have learned that it was me."

Tom frowned. "Fine… still, we need to figure out what to do now."

Harry thought for a moment. "Does he have a family?"

"Yaxley? No."

"No children he'll leave behind? No wife or anything?" Harry asked.

"No, he is the last of his family," Tom said. "When he dies, the name Yaxley dies with him."

Harry nodded and look at Tom. "It's obvious, isn't it?"

Tom stared at Harry, shocked. "You are suggesting murder?"

Harry nodded. "He's not going to leave any children behind, nor a spouse or really any family," he said slowly. "If he dies, that's it, he dies. No consequences."

"Harry… I am usually the first to suggest murder, but may I offer another suggestion?" Tom asked.

"What is it?"

"The Malfoys," Tom said. "Lucius and Narcissa. Their killer has not been caught."

Harry gasped, his eyes wide. "I remember! I said something to Yaxley! Both last night and months ago! I can't believe that I'm remembering this, or even how I managed to say the same thing… I insulted Yaxley, claiming that he was trying to be exactly like Lucius Malfoy!"

"Harry!" Tom yelled. "That is genius, we now have a killer and a motive! Now all we need is evidence."

"But how? Mrs. Malfoy died by poisoning while Mr. Malfoy was killed with the Killing Curse," Harry said. "And it would be doubtless that Yaxley would have performed a multitude of spells between then and now."

"Which is why, my prince, we need to catch him with the poison," Tom said. "A vial that contains only a small trace of it, left in a place to be deposed but ultimately forgotten. He is an old man, it is natural that he would forget such an important part."

Harry nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "What about Draco, though? We will need to tell him about this," he said looking at Tom.

"Naturally, which is why you will do such a thing while I get the poison ready," Tom said. "I have potions today, it will be a simple matter of stealing from Severus's stock."

"Okay," Harry nodded. "So we get the poison ready and plant it in his house—I can do that easily with the Invisibility Cloak, what then?"

"Then, we simply alert the authorities. Yaxley is an influential member of the Ministry of Magic, he is seen countless times in the presence of the Minister of Magic himself. As a previously suspected Death Eater, it would not be outrageous to think that he would try to poison the Minister himself," Tom said.

"So we spread a rumor that he is trying to kill Fudge?" Harry asked. "But then he would just be thrown into Azkaban for attempted murder, not actual."

"Yes, which is why we need to plant some more… evidence," Tom said.

"Like what?"

"Letters, journal entries, paper that would show Yaxley's jealousy of the Malfoys and his planning and then acting out their murders," Tom said.

"And that will do it?" Harry asked.

"Of course, but we will need time, a week at most," Tom said. "I have the poison to recreate as well as creating many incriminating evidences. Meanwhile, I will have the crows watch Yaxley, listen to his every word. They will make sure that he doesn't do anything rash with this information."

"Will he?" Harry asked.

"I don't think so, no," Tom said. "Remember, the Ministry of Magic denies my return Harry. He cannot simply go to the Minister and tell him that Harry Potter is the Dark Prince, heir and apprentice to the Dark Lord. No… this is meant to scare us, to have us bickering at each other or cast doubt on your usefulness."

"Which it didn't."

"You're bloody right it didn't," Tom said. He took a breath and continued. "Harry, for your part, continue your life as normal. Attend classes, do homework, fall asleep during History of Magic, and show your boyfriend the proper attention he deserves," Tom smirked at this part, "I will tell you when I have everything in place; the crows will plant the evidence we need."

"Then how are we going to tell the Aurors when the time comes?" Harry asked.

"We are not going to tell the Aurors anything directly… we will let the Ministry's own paranoia let the news travel to the proper authorities," Tom said. "Whisper the right words to the right people."

"Please tell me you're not thinking of Umbridge," Harry grimaced.

"Of course not," Tom said. "I wouldn't trust that woman to hold a vial of troll snot. No, again we will use the crows."

"But how? They're birds! They don't speak?" Harry said.

Tom chuckled and smirked. "You mean to tell me, you haven't tried to ask the crows something that would require an answer? Harry love, I'm disappointed."

"You mean those ruddy birds can talk?" Harry gasped.

"More likely they repeat what we tell them to repeat," Tom said. "Do not worry about the finer details, my love. Go and be the student you normally are, and let your Lord deal with our enemy."

"Yes T… yes my Lord," Harry said.

"Good," Tom said. He pulled Harry into a quick kiss. "Everything will work out Harry, don't worry about it," he whispered. Harry nodded and the two walked out of the classroom and back to the Great Hall.

Harry found that he didn't have time to worry about Yaxley. Double Charms was succeeded by Double Transfiguration. Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall both spent the first fifteen minutes of their lessons lecturing the class on the importance of O.W.L.s.

"What you must remember," Professor Flitwick said, "is that these examinations may influence your future for many years to come! If you have not already given serious thought to your careers, now is the time to do so. And in the meantime, I'm afraid we shall be working harder than ever to ensure that you all do yourselves justice!"

They then spent more than an hour reviewing Summing Charms, which according to Professor Flitwick were bound to come up in their O.W.L., and he rounded off the lesson by setting them their largest amount of Charms homework ever.

"It was the same, if not worse, in Transfiguration.

"You cannot pass an O.W.L.," Professor McGonagall said grimly, "without serious application, practice, and study. I see no reason why everybody in this class should not achieve an O.W.L. in Transfiguration as long as they put in the work. So … today we are starting Vanishing Spells. These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you would not usually attempt until N.E.W.T. level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on in your O.W.L."

She was quite right; Harry found the Vanishing Spell horribly difficult. By the end of a double period, neither he nor Ron had managed to vanish the snails on which they were practicing, the best he was able to do was make the shell look a little transparent. Hermione, on the other hand, successfully vanished her snail on the third attempt, earning he a ten-point bonus for Gryffindor from Professor McGonagall. She was the only person not given homework; everybody else was told to practice the spell overnight, ready for a fresh attempt on their snails the following afternoon.

Now panicking slightly about the amount of homework they had to do, Harry and Ron spent their lunch hour in the library looking up the uses of moonstones in potion-making. Draco joined them, though he wasn't very helpful as he just refused to tell them outright the uses. Harry used this time to talk with Draco one-on-one.

"I told you Harry, I will not tell you what the bloody moonstones are for," Draco sighed.

"It's not that… umm," Harry said, glancing over at Ron who was tearing his hair hunched over a book. Harry leaned closer and whispered, "it's about your parents."

Draco's face went stone-faced. His gaze seemed to sharpen. "What about them?" he asked emotionlessly.

"Tom… we're planning on pinning the blame on Yaxley. You know what's he's doing, the problems he's causing… We're going to pin the murders on him and make it look like he is planning on killing the Minister as well."

"And you are asking my permission—"

"No… Tom is going to do this with or without your permission," Harry said. "I just thought… I just thought that it would be better if I tell you… about… it." Harry's voice died off under Draco's gaze.

"Harry, I am serious when I say this: I don't want to think about my parents anymore. I don't want to think about what you've done. I've accepted that our Lord took over your body during that time but… I'm trying to move past it, I want to move past it. Whatever you and Tom do… if it involves my father or my mother… I don't want any part of it, understand?" Draco asked.

"Yes, I do," Harry frowned.

"Good. Now go sit down next to the idiot and figure out how to use moonstones before I beat you both over with a book!" Draco threatened, speaking louder than before.

"Hey! I'm not an idiot!" Ron called out looking up at Draco.

"You are at potions, now hush up and continue working," Draco called out.

"Massive git," Ron grumbled looking back at his book.

"I can call you names too you know," Draco said sitting down. "Or did you forget that it was your House's fault that Snape gave us an essay on the properties of moonstones?"

"Don't bring Neville—"

"Then shut it and get to work," Draco said. "The sooner you're done the sooner I can do something remotely useful." Ron shot him a glare but continued working. Harry just stared at the two of them for a moment before sitting down himself.

To nobody's surprise, Professor Sprout started their lesson that afternoon by lecturing them about the importance of O.W.L.s. Harry wished all the teachers would stop doing this; he was starting to get an anxious, twisting feeling in his stomach every time he remembered how much homework he had to do, a feeling that worsened dramatically when Professor Sprout gave them yet another essay at the end of class; it twisted and meld with his sense of dread with the situation that Yaxley created, causing the teenager to barely eat during dinner even though he was starving.

He had detention with Umbridge at five o'clock. At five to five Harry bade Ron and Hermione good-bye and set off for Umbridge's office on the third floor. Tom was waiting for him just outside. "Do you remember why we are here Harry?" he asked.

"Because we both have big mouths," Harry said cheekily. Tom stared at him and he sighed. "We have to see if Umbridge is a threat or not."

"Correct, which means that while we are in that office we are just two students, nothing more nothing less," Tom said.

"Okay… can you give me a kiss first though?" Harry asked.

"Of course," Tom smiled, and in one graceful move pulled Harry against his chest and kissed him. Tom kept his arm around Harry's waist as they knocked on the door. They entered cautiously, looking around.

Harry had known this office under three of its previous occupants. But now, it looked completely unrecognizable. The surfaces had all been draped in lacy covers and cloths. There were several vases full of dried flowers, each residing on its own doily, and on one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large Technicolored kitten wearing a different bow around its neck. These were so foul that Harry stared at them, transfixed, until Professor Umbridge spoke.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter, Mr. Riddle." Her eyes were glancing at Tom's arm which was still around Harry's waist in disgust.

"Evening," Harry said stiffly.

"Well, sit down," she said, pointing toward a small table draped in lace beside which she had drawn up two straight-backed chairs. Two pieces of black parchment lay on the table, apparently waiting for them.

They did. "Now you both will be writing lines for me, Mr. Potter, Mr. Riddle. No, not with your quills," she added as Harry bent down to open his bag. "You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are."

She handed them two long, think black quills with an unusually sharp point. Tom examined the quill carefully.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Riddle?" Umbridge smiled politely.

"Not at all Professor," Tom said. "It is just that I haven't seen a pen like this."

"Of course not. It is a very special pen—no need for ink," she said softly with a hint of a laugh. "Mr. Potter, I want you to write 'I must not tell lies' while Mr. Riddle… I would like for you to write 'I must respect authority.'"

"How many times?" Harry asked, with a creditable imitation of politeness.

"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in," Umbridge said sweetly. "Off you go."

Harry placed the point of the quill on the paper and wrote: I must not tell lies.

He let out a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of Harry's right hand, cut into his shin as though traced there by a scalpel—yet even as he stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth. He looked around at Tom, he seemed to have notice it too but nevertheless continued writing as if it wasn't hurting him. Harry turned to look at Umbridge. She was watching them, her wide, toadlike mouth stretched in a smile.

"Yes?"

"Nothing," Harry said quietly.

He looked back at the parchment, placed the quill upon it once more, wrote I must not tell lies, and felt the searing pain on the back of his hand for a second time; once again the words had been cut into his skin, once again they healed over seconds later.

And on it went. Again and again Harry wrote the words on the parchment in what he soon came to realize was not ink, but his own blood. And again and again the words were cut into the back of his hand, healed, and then reappeared the next time he set quill to parchment.

Tom did not stop writing, his face emotionless, but Harry could see past his Lord's mask, he could see the cogs moving in his head, he could see the hatred fuming behind his eyes. Yet he did nothing! Why did Tom not act? Why is the Dark Lord sitting there, taking this torture?

Darkness fell outside Umbridge's window. Harry did not ask when they would be allowed to stop. He did not even check his watch. He knew Umbridge was watching them for signs of weakness and he was not going to show any, not even if he had to sit here all night, cutting open his own hand with this quill.

"Come here," she said, after what seemed hours.

They stood. Harry's hand was stinging painfully. When he looked down at it he saw that the cut had healed, but that the skin there was red raw. The same was with Tom's hand.

"Hand," she said.

He extended it. She took it in her own. Harry repressed a shudder as she touched him with her thick, stubby fingers on which she wore a number of ugly old rings.

"Tut, tut. I don't seem to have made much of an impression yet," she said, smiling. "Well, we'll just have to try again tomorrow evening, won't we? And mayhap the rest of the week as well."

Tom glared at her. "The detention you gave us—"

"Will go on until you two naughty boys learn your lessons," Umbridge said. "You may go."

The two left. The school was quite deserted. It was surely past midnight. They walked slowly up the corridor. Tom stopped suddenly and turned to Harry. He grabbed both of Harry's hands and looked down at them, frowning. "Harry, where is your ring?"

"My what—how can you be thinking about that—"

"Harry, look at your hands," Tom said. Harry looked down The only thing he noticed was the red rawness of his right hand. He looked at his ring finger, where he always wore the ring on his right hand, it just felt most comfortable there, so much so that he forgets about it most of the time. He stared in shock to see that it was missing. He looked up at Tom. "I always wear it," he said.

"I know you do… never mind, it will show up," Tom said after a moment's thoughts. "Now, I'm going to escort you back to Gryffindor Tower, we will speak about what just happened during that time."

"Like why you didn't do anything?" Harry demanded. "She was making us carve into our skins! She has to be a threat!"

"I know, and she is a threat, but Yaxley is a bigger one Harry," Tom said. "You cannot simply go around killing whoever stands in front of you and expect things to turn your way. There are situations where it is acceptable and situations where it's not—"

"Funny coming from the Dark Lord," Harry said.

Tom grabbed Harry's body and pushed him against the stone walls. "Look at me," Tom seethed, his eyes red and voice high. "Look at me! I've already tried that method Harry. I already tried killing everyone who stands in my way and do you know what happened? I lost. I lost the first war Potter. But I will not lose this one. No, I will be smarter, more cunning, cleverer. There is nothing I would most rather do than to take Umbridge and dissect her layer by layer until she is barely a corpse for what she had done to you, but I cannot. People will ask questions, people will be suspicious. The Ministry will believe that it was you who have done it. We need to be smart about this Harry. Smart."

"So what? I just grit through her tortures?" Harry yelled.

"Yes. And the anger you develop, the anger that you want to unleash on her, you bottle that Harry. You store your anger, let it grow and become more powerful. Let it develop into hate, into suffering. Her suffering and the suffering of all your enemies. Look at me now. You are a Dark Wizard Harry, understand? Do you know what that means?"

"I have not problems casting the Dark Arts," Harry said.

"More importantly, Harry, is that your hatred will fuel your spells," Tom said. "Let your hate overwhelm you when the timing is right and watch as your enemies fall before your will."

"I want her to die," Harry said. "I want her and Yaxley both to die…" he looked at Tom, his eyes seemingly glowing violently green as he said, "And I want to be the one who kills them."

Tom smiled, pride swelling in his chest. "Then let your anger grow, my Dark Prince, and your time will come. Let it grow, and soon you will kill your enemies without my aid."

Harry nodded and rested his head on Tom's chest. The Dark Lord wrapped his arms around his little Prince and kissed the top of his head. "Come my love, it is time for us both to sleep."

Harry made a small groan. "Angelina's going to hate that I have detention the rest of the week," he said. "Tryout's are on Friday."

Tom chuckled. "Yeah, worry about those things Harry. I'll take care of the rest. Come on, time to sleep." And they both made their way to the Gryffindor Tower.

Harry had not had time to practice Vanishing Spells, had not written a single dream for the dream journal that Professor Trelawney assigned him, and had not finished the drawing Professor Grubbly-Plank assigned, or any of his essays. He skipped breakfast next morning to scribble down a couple of made-up dreams for Divination. He told Ron about the extra detentions during that class.

"That's awful! And she just sprung it on you?"

"Yeah."

"But what about the tryouts on Friday?" Ron asked.

"I don't know… I didn't tell Angelina yet," Harry said. "She's going to be angry, I just know it."

She was. She tracked Harry down at dinner and, on learning that he would not at be able to attend Friday's Keeper tryouts, told him she was not at all impressed by his attitude and that she expected players who wished to remain on the team to put training before their other commitments.

"I'm in detention!" Harry yelled after her as she stalked away. "D'you think I'd rather be stuck in a room with that old toad or playing Quidditch?"

"At least it's only lines," Hermione said consolingly, as Harry sank back onto his bench and looked down at his steak-and-kidney pie, which he no longer fancied very much. "It's not as if it's a dreadful punishment, really. …"

Harry opened his mouth, closed it again, and nodded. He was not really sure why he was not telling Ron and Hermione exactly what was happening in Umbridge's room: He only knew that he did not want to see their looks of horror; that would make the whole thing seem worse and therefore more difficult to face.

"I can't believe how much homework we've got," Ron said miserably.

"Why, why didn't you do any last night?" Hermione asked him. "Where were you anyway?"

"I was… I fancied a walk," Ron said shiftily.

"What did you and Draco do," Hermione sighed.

"Nothing! Nothing," Ron said quickly. Both Harry and Hermione gave him a skeptical look.

The detentions continued unrelenting. Harry and Tom showed up to Umbridge's office; the skin on the back of their hands becoming irritated more and more quickly now; red and inflamed, Harry was sure they weren't healing as effectively for long. They both knew that the cuts were stay in their hands, but for some reason whenever Harry looked at Tom's, his cut did not seem as bad as Harry's. "What are you doing?" he whispered on Thursday night.

"Transferring the pain to someone else naturally," Tom said. "Then, when she is done having her fun with us…" Tom pulled out his wand and wiped it across his hand, the scar disappearing.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" Harry asked.

Tom just shrugged. "The scar doesn't go away all together, it needs time to heal still, and the multiple detentions aren't allowing it. But with time and enough uses of the spell, it will disappear. Once she is done I will teach the spell to you."

Harry glared at him but didn't bother arguing. "I have good news, however," Tom said. "The poison is complete, I've made a few vials and are having the crows hide them away in Yaxley's home. I will not risk you going in there even with the Invisibility Cloak. Besides, we both are too busy with schoolwork."

"I'm not—"

"You are behind already, I see it in your eyes Harry, you're not sleeping," Tom said. It's true. To even attempt to stay above the massive amount of workload he was being assigned, Harry had decided against sleeping, instead staying in the common room and trying to get as much work done possible before collapsing. "You have to take care of yourself, my love," Tom cooed.

"I know but… it's hard," Harry frowned. "How do you do this?"

Tom laughed. "Harry, despite my looks and I still technically in my sixties. I've gone through this stuff and more."

"Oh… I forgot about that," Harry blushed.

"It's okay, but it is obvious that our lessons need to continue," Tom sighed. "We've been lax lately about them. I think we should start by getting you ahead of your assignments, agreed?"

"Yeah… thank you," Harry said.

"You should have come to me the moment you started falling behind, my prince," Tom sighed. "But what's done is done."

Harry nodded and looked up at Tom, "What about the rumors?"

"We will do that tomorrow night," Tom said. "All we have to do is summon a few crows and tell them what we need them to say."

"That's it?"

"Simply put, yes," Tom said.

"How did you even get the crows to begin with?"

"You will find that I've done a lot of work behind your back Harry," Tom said. "All to relieve the pressure on your shoulders."

"Okay," Harry nodded, leaning on Tom and accepting his explanation. Tom wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders and kissed the top of his head. They headed together towards the Gryffindor Common room, where they ran into Ron.

"Ronald, what are you doing out so late?" Tom asked.

Ron was lurking behind a statue of Lachlan the Lanky, clutching his broomstick. He gave a great leap of surprise when he saw Harry and Tom and attempted to hide his new Cleansweep Eleven behind his back.

"What are you doing?"

"Er—nothing. What are you doing?"

"Ronald, why do you have your broomstick hiding behind your back like a guilty child who stole sweets," Tom sighed.

"I'm—I'm hiding from Fred and George, if you must know," Ron said. "They just went past with a bunch of first years, I bet they're testing stuff on them, I mean, they can't do it in the common room now, can they?"

He was talking in a very fast, feverish voice.

"Leave lying to your boyfriend, you are not skilled in it," Tom sighed.

"I—well… fine," Ron huffed. "Don't laugh, okay?" He was growing redder and redder with each second. "I-I thought I'd try out for Gryffindor Keeper now I've got a decent broom. There. Go on. Laugh."

"Where's the humor?"

"I don't know. Look Ron, it's a brilliant idea! It'd be really cool if you got on the team! I've never seen you play Keeper, are you good?"

"I'm not bad," Ron said, who looked immensely relieved at Tom's and Harry's reactions. "Charlie, Fred, and George always made me Keep for them when they were training during the holidays."

"So you've been practicing tonight?"

"Every evening since Tuesday… Draco's been helping me, throwing Quaffles at me. Sometimes I think he was intentionally aiming for my face," Ron said. "Fred and George are going to laugh themselves stupid when I turn up for the tryouts. They haven't stopped taking the mickey out of me since I got made a prefect."

"I wish I was going to be there," Harry said bitterly, as they set off together toward the common room. Tom walked away, telling the boys good-night.

"Yeah, so do—Harry, what's that on the back of your hand?"

Harry, who had just scratched his nose with his free right hand, tried to hide it, but Ron grabbed his forearm and pulled the back of Harry's hand up level with his eyes. There was a pause, during which he stared at the words carved into the skin during which Harry cursed Tom for not performing the spell on him, then he released Harry, looking sick.

"I thought you said she was giving you two lines!"

Harry hesitated, but after all, Ron had been honest with him, so he told Ron the truth about the hours he and Tom had been spending in Umbridge's office.

"The old hag!" Ron said in a revolted whisper as they came to a halt in front of the Fat Lady. "She's sick! Go to McGonagall, say something! Why didn't Tom do anything—"

"No," Harry said at once. "I'm not giving her the satisfaction of knowing she's got to me."

"Got to you? You can't let her get away with this! Neither of you!"

"I don't know how much power McGonagall's got over her," Harry said. "Or Flitwick."

"Then go to Dumbledore! Tell Dumbledore!"

"No."

"Why not?"

"He's got enough on his mind," Harry said, lying. There was no way he was going to go near Dumbledore. He could see Harry's Aura, the invisible outline that shows a wizard's magical affinities to the Dark or Light Arts.

"Well, I reckon you should—" Ron began, but he was interrupted by the Fat Lady, who had been watching them sleepily and now burst out. "Are you going to give me the password or will I have to stay awake all night waiting for you to finish your conversation?"

Harry and Tom both refused to talk in Umbridge's office on Friday. They sat down, did their lines, and ignored the pain that the black quill caused. Umbridge examined them, and when she grabbed Harry pain seared, not across the back of his hand, but across the scar on his forehead. He stared at Tom, confused but Tom did not react or notice. When they were done for the night, Tom turned to Harry. "Come with me," he said. He grabbed Harry's hand gently and pulled him into a classroom. With no lights, it was heavily shadowed, only the moonlight in the windows illuminating the room. They sat down and looked around. "Come out," Tom called to the darkness.

Slowly red eyes appeared before black figures jumped out, flying towards Harry and Tom before settling right before them, staring at them, waiting for a demand. Tom smiled at Harry and looked at the crows. "Repeat after me," he said. "'I saw a strange potion in Yaxley's home.'"

A crow stared at Tom, cocked it's head, and repeated in a convincing female voice, "I saw a strange potion in Yaxley's home."

Harry stared at the crow amazed. "Woah!"

"You try," Tom said.

Harry nodded and looked at the nearest crow. He thought for a moment and said, "Say 'I heard Yaxley muttering about the Minister. He looked pretty angry.'"

The crow cocked his head and said, "I heard Yaxley muttering about the Minister. He looked pretty angry."

"Wicked," Harry grinned.

Tom chuckled and looked at another crow. "Repeat after me, 'Yaxley has been staring at the Minister quite strangely lately."

"Say, 'I know, I think he might want his job or something,'" Harry said. The crows repeated after them. Harry couldn't stop grinning as he and Tom spoke to the crows, continuing to tell them phrases and bits of conversations.

"Say, 'I honestly think Yaxley is not good for Fudge, have you seen him glaring at him?'"

"Repeat after me, 'I truly believe he might be planning something, but I'm too afraid to tell anyone, you know?'"

The crows all started chanting their phrases over and over again.

"Go to the Ministry and tell them our words," Tom said. "Let everyone know them until the workers start repeating themselves." With a flash of black wings, the crows flew back into the shadows and disappeared. One crow was left and Tom looked at Harry. "He is yours," he said.

Harry looked at the crow and said, "Say, 'I think Yaxley is going to kill Fudge.'"

"I think Yaxley is going to kill Fudge," said the crow in a high female voice.

"Go tell that to the Aurors," Harry commanded and the crow flew into darkness.

Harry smiled at Tom, who ruffled his air affectionately. "Brilliant," Tom said. "Absolutely brilliant."

"Now all we have to do is wait, right?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Tom said. "We wait until Yaxley is arrested and sent to Azkaban. Any blathering he might make will be seen as insane gibberish from the killer of the Malfoys and attempted murderer of Fudge himself." He kissed Harry's forehead, "Come on, it's time to send you back to your dormitory."

The two returned to Gryffindor Tower and Harry said the password. The Fat Lady's portrait swung open and a roar of sound greeted them. Ron came running towards them, beaming all over his face and slopping butterbeer down his front from the goblet he was clutching.

"Harry, I did it, I'm in, I'm Keeper!"

"What? Oh—brilliant!" Harry said, smiling naturally.

"Have a butterbeer, you too Tom!" Ron said pressing bottles onto them. "Come in Tom! Come in!"

Tom gave a polite smile and said, "As much as I would love to, I need to go back to my own common room."

"What? Fine! Just keep the butterbeer," Ron said giving Tom a goofy smile. Tom chuckled and held it up slightly in thanks.

"I will see you tomorrow, my prince," Tom said kissing Harry good-bye.

"Goodbye, my lord," Harry smiled. The two watched as Tom walked away and then Ron pulled Harry inside. They found Hermione sitting in an armchair.

"Harry, there you are," she yawned.

"I need to tell you guys something," Harry said sitting down. "Something I didn't tell Tom."

"What is it?"

He told them about his scar hurting in Umbridge's office. "You're worried that You-Know-Who's controlling her like he controlled Quirrell?"

"Well," Harry said, dropping his voice. "I don't know." He was really confused on why his scar was hurting at all. It didn't hurt even a fraction when Tom was with him as a spirit, sometimes when the Husk made him hurt but with Tom, never. And with the Husk dead…

"You should tell Dumbledore," Hermione said. "He would want to know."

It was the second time in two days he had been advised to go to Dumbledore and his answer to Hermione was just the same as his answer to Ron.

"No, I'm not bothering him with this. Its' been hurting on and off all summer—it was just a bit worse tonight, that's all—"

"Harry, I'm sure Dumbledore would want to be bothered by this—"

"Yeah," Harry said, "that's the only bit of me Dumbledore cares about, isn't it, my scar?"

"Don't say that, it's not true!"

"I'll write to Sirius, see what he thinks," Harry said.

"Harry, you can't put something like that in a letter!" Hermione said, looking alarmed.

Harry just stood up and walked away irritated. Too much was going on around him, he needed a break from everything, even if it means sleeping off the responsibility. He violently threw his clothes off and got into his bed, falling asleep before his head hit the pillow.

He dreamt of walking down a corridor ending in a locked door, and awoke abruptly to his scar prickling.

A/N: A lot of stuff happened, didn't it? It seems like one problem goes away, another two pop up for our Dark Lord and Prince.

Europa Black: Hiya! Thank you for your review, and don't worry about it being so formal. Just having your support is enough! And I am a lover of cliffhangers, sorry.

Ronelia Delgrange: To answer your questions: Not many, a few, yes we just haven't seen the romance fly yet, and thank you very much.

Littlesprout: thank you

Zophia Maev Evans: Thank you, I hope that Harry's change is constant, evolving, and, most importantly, understandable. It's like the events in the last story has consequences in this one! (Which as we see does, the Malfoy's murders is still being hung above everyone even after who knows many chapters.) This is my first sequel so hopefully this will all turn out brilliantly!

Blizzachu: Thanks!

Alex Frost: Let's just say that circumstances have given me a lot of free time that needs filling somehow.

BloodMoon08:We talked about how Yaxley knows, but for the rest of us I'll say that The Dark Prince and Harry both said the exact same words to Yaxley.

Draconic skysong: Tom was not happy at all, but they managed to turn it around.

NotQuiteCheshireCat: Tom will have plans for Umbridge, worry you not. And yes, Cedric is such a cutie wanting to please Tom and Harry so much.

MirrorFlower and DarkWind: Ehhhh maybe

Mythreader: Snape is none the wiser. And Harry and Draco are trying to keep poor Ronnie out of it.

Gime'SS: thanks!

Supremebananamanager: Thank you very much.