Tempus Inconcessus

Chapter 11 – Harry's Pensieve

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Warning: Nothing much in this chapter so nothing to be worried about…unless you fear foreshadowing.

Author's Note: Okay, because many people have asked me, I have decided to write a chapter solely based on the enigmatic character of Tom Riddle. It's not in the first-person point of view, but it still is in Tom's point of view…understand? I'm not sure what that's called, but there should be a term for it… oh well! Well it's like that for half the chapter before going back to Harry mode. Please review once you're finished reading please.


There were shattered shards of glass lying on the floor with Harry's horrified face reflecting upon them. A foot stomped on the glass, crushing it into powder. A massive hourglass with black sand fought against the laws of gravity, the beads of sand moving up. Unlike any other hourglasses, this one foretold death. It was an hourglass of the Fates, but the hourglass to which it belonged seemed to be defying death. Their sands of time that would normally end once they all reached the bottom were regathering at the top. Whoever this hourglass belonged too; they were being given more time and more life. The inscription was faded; the letters, illegible.

Tom walked passed the hourglass, stepping on more shards of glass, to the drawer where he had found the Remembrall. He removed the quill that wrote without ink and tucked it away in his robe; a keepsake. After months of trying to get into the room that had only appeared once before, Tom thought that he deserved something for his efforts. It had taken awhile for Tom to notice a pattern.

Just moments before, when he was trying to open the Room of Requirement, a lost first-year Slytherin wandered near the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. They were bending their knees, looking extremely anxious. Without looking at Tom he walked to one side of the hall. His head turned from side to side, unable to find what he was looking for, and he checked back on the other side of the hall. Again he looked, but didn't find it. A third time he walked passed Tom to see if he had missed what he needed.

Suddenly, as the Slytherin power-walked in front of Tom, he noticed a door that he wasn't sure had been there before. His stomach clenched and he no longer cared where it had come from and ran into the door.

This was the chance Tom had been looking for. Following the first-year, Slytherin, Tom entered the door with calm excitement.

But there had to have been some mistake. Maybe he entered the wrong room, he thought because this wasn't the place where he and Harry had visited before. It looked just like the boy's bathroom.

Tom heard a flush and the Slytherin boy came out of stall while zipping up his pants. He made over to the sink and washed his hands before leaving in a rush. Suddenly angered because of his stupidity for entering the wrong room, Tom pushed the doors open and left. Barnabas the Barmy met his eyes, hanging idly on the wall. That meant that this had to be the right place. Tom spun around, but the door had vanished.

Three times—the boy had walked back and forth three times. He had obviously been looking for a restroom; he needed it. Tom paused in mid-step, astonished by his brilliance. He paced around the vacant wall, thinking to himself I need to know about Harry's past…I need to know…

Before he realized it a door stood solid in front of him. Tom almost couldn't believe that it had worked. His heart pounded roughly against his chest as he turned the knob.

And that's how he returned to this room of mysterious artifacts that had addled his mind for several nights.

Tom found more mammoth sized hourglasses, each holding a different color of sand. One was a dark shade of lavender and the other was as green as the Slytherin colors. All of them were goin backwards in their glass, defying Death like the black-sanded hourglass. Their inscriptions were also scratched out and incomprehensible. Ignoring them for the time being, Tom went to the reason why he had wanted to come here in the first place.

The strange device that held swirling streams of silver. There were strange signs written on the sides that made no sense to Tom.

Peering inside, the silver strands twirled around with one another, dancing for the amusement of the onlooker. Tom leaned in closer and already he could hear voices. This was the moment he had been waiting for. Tom plunged into the Pensieve and entered the first memory of Harry James Potter.

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Everything seemed familiar; the floors, the ceiling, even the smell that suddenly surrounded Tom. He knew he recognized it all, but from where? Actually…where was he?

Just then, Harry walked into the room with two people at his side. There was a tall, lanky boy with wild red hair. He was saying something about Dungbombs that got made Harry laugh. The girl on Harry's left was one he had seen before the last time Tom had looked into the Pensieve. She rolled her eyes at the red-headed boy as they walked up to the portrait of a fat lady.

"Password." She asked in a high voice.

"Hippogriff," said Harry and the Fat Lady's portrait swung open.

So far, neither of them seemed to have noticed the presence of Tom; that annoyed him. "Hey, Harry!" He called, but his boyfriend continued to chat with his two friends. "Harry!" He called out again, getting the same results.

The three of them walked into the hole the Fat Lady revealed and Tom followed with infuriation. As soon as they got inside, he went to grab Harry by the shoulders only for his hand to go right through him! Tom pulled his hand away, taken aback. What the…?

He pulled out his wand and tried using a Trip Jinx.

"OUCH!" Harry cried out as he fell over. A flood of relief washed through Tom; he still had his magic, he wasn't powerless in this strange world. "Ron, tell Fred and George to stop leaving their stuff lying around." Harry picked up what looked like a broomstick, but it shrunk in Harry's hand and began to sweep at his head.

Tom's world shattered. He hadn't caused Harry to trip…? It was…coincidence?

"Interested in our Buzzing Broomsticks?" A boy with similar characteristics as Harry's friend appeared with another boy that looked exactly like him. "Think we should give them a discount, Fred?"

"I'm not sure," The other boy pretended to think about it, "Well, since you're family, we'll give you the astounding price of four Sickles and a Knut."

"How much were they before?"

"Four Sickles," said Fred, smirking and smacking the red-head on the back. "Just kidding, Ronny. But seriously, you break it you bought it."

"Haven't quite got the bugs out of it though," said George, pulling the miniature broom out of Harry's hair. "They keep shrinking for some reason…"

Tom looked at the twins, then at Harry's companions, and then at Harry. No one has yet to notice him. Tom hated that.

Fred and George saw their friend Lee and ran over to him, tossing the Buzzing Broom at him so that it attacked him.

Tom looked around the room. There were other people in there of different ages. They were all wearing red and gold colors—Gryffindor colors. Tom scowled at them even they couldn't see or hear him. Wait…he was in Hogwarts? Tom looked around and saw that it was unmistakingly his school. Harry said he had come from another school…

"Fifth year is killing us." Ron sunk into a chair and let his body slide down. "How can you survive, Hermione?"

Fifth year?! Harry was in his fifth year at Hogwarts? How could have Tom never seen him before?

"Oh—I don't know—maybe it's because I do my homework on time and pay attention in class?" The bushy haired girl said sarcastically and unrolled a long piece of parchment. "Speaking of which," she dipped her quill into an ink bottle and began writing feverishly, "have you two started Snape's essay on the Tempus Inconcessus, yet?"

As expected the two of them shook their heads. "Wuzzat?" said Ron, halfway through a yawn. He was obviously not very interested in the subject. Harry looked just as bored.

She began explaining to them in great detail what Professor Snape had told them. Tom took that time to explore around the Gryffindor room he wasn't allowed into. It looked rather ordinary for a Hogwart's room, nothing compared to the Slytherin dormitories. There were comfortable chairs that were occupied by other Gryffindors (Tom shuddered because there were so many of them in one place) and a fire cackled and filled the room with warmth.

Tom took the time to think things over; to try and understand where he was. Already he had concluded that this was Harry's memory; he had figured that much out. What Tom couldn't figure out was how Harry hadn't existed until at the start of the school year, despite him being here now in his fifth year. What confused Tom even more was how Harry was lounging in the Gryffindor House and no one seemed to care that he was in fact a Slytherin.

But the red and gold scarf around Harry's neck told otherwise.

Tom just couldn't understand. A person never switched from their assigned House, not that Tom has ever heard of. The House the Sorting Hat placed them into was where they belonged, so there wasn't to be any disapproval on the student's part. Then how could Harry have gone from being a Gryffindor to a Slytherin?

"…basically, it lets a person travel back in time…" Tom snapped his head in the direction of Hermione, his attention caught. "…but you're supposed to have some sort of intention that you must follow. I'm not really sure what kind of intention you're supposed to have, but after you've made one you have to stay true to it."

"Uh huh…" said Ron and Harry, dully, beginning to set a board for Wizard's Chess.

"So far, when a person uses the Tempus Inconcessus, they get trapped in that time period. That's why hardly any wizards ever use it."

"I can't believe it!" shouted Ron.

"Amazing isn't it?" Hermione beamed at him.

"Huh?" Ron looked at her, bewildered but what she meant. "I was talking about Harry getting me into check, but…" his Rook moved across the board and demolished Harry's queen, "Checkmate, mate."

Hermione through her hands up in defeat, "You two are impossible!" She put her books away in her bag and made way to the girls' dormitories, "I'm going to bed early. Goodnight."

"'Night." They both said and began setting up another game of Wizard's chess.

The scene began to fade and drift father away. Harry's leaving figure disappeared into the shadows and the Room of Requirement became clear once again around Tom. The Pensieve was in front of Tom, casting a light glow on his pale face.

The Tempus Inconcessus: a potion that can make a person travel back in time. Tom thought and looked around the room. The hourglass with the black sand now made perfect sense to him. It was Harry's sand, going against Death.

Harry had performed the Tempus Inconcessus…he had gone back in time…his sand wasn't flowing in the right direction because he was given more time. That's why Harry had appeared out of thin air, why he knew the things he did. Harry was from the future…he didn't belong here…Tom had been lied to…

The black sand-filled hourglass shattered. Tom's wand was raised and pointing at it, his eyes blazing with new fury. If there was something that Tom hated most in the world it was being made to look like a fool. How long did Harry think he could keep this charade? Was everything a lie? Even Harry's infatuations?

For a brief moment, Tom's mind went blank and he lost all control of his senses. The painful deception was just too much to handle at the moment.

Dark spells shot out of his wand, shattering glass, exploding desks, and setting fire to everything else. Harry's black sand poured out of its hourglass, covering the floor with its darkness only to be lit aflame by Tom's wand. Tom aided the growing fire by spitting out flames from the tip of his wand, burning down the wardrobe that held the futuristic clothes.

Light filled the room; a menacing light. Tom could see the portraits hanging on the wall, immobile. There were many of them, only a few were recognizable in the burning brightness. One was of Hogwart's Headmaster, Armando Dippet—the other was the Transfigurations teacher Tom loathed with a passion, Albus Dumbledore.

Tom set fire to Dumbledore's portrait first before doing the same to the rest. He didn't know the other wizards who decorated the walls nor did he care about them. Tom just wanted everything to burn.

Once everything scorched before him, Tom extinguished the flames with his wand, relishing the ashes that covered the room. As the fire ceased, it left behind a room of smoldering ash. Tom's brow deepened, unsatisfied.

He heard a voice; Harry's voice. Tom turned back at the glowing Pensieve. One of the silver strands swirled quicker than the others, circling around the center. It spun faster and faster, creating an image that became clearer the longer Tom gazed at it.

Tom saw Harry inside the Pensieve. Grodric Gryffindor's sword was in Harry's hand, swinging fiercely at a massive Basilisk. Again, Tom heard the giant serpent curse Harry's name, screeching out, unable to find Harry's because of its blindness. It bore its massive fangs and sunk them deep into Harry's arm.

Tom's hands gripped tightly on the side of the Pensieve, suddenly feeling anxious.

Harry let out a loud scream as the venom sank its way into his bloodstream, slowly killing him from the inside. The Basilisk let out a hiss of triumph, but found its hiss to be silent. At that last possible moment, Harry had sunk the Grodric's relic into the depths of the Basilisk's mouth.

There was a cry that Tom was sure Harry understood and the Basilisk collapsed, dead.

Tom's knuckles were turning white against the stone basin. He instinctively moved closer to the memory, desperately wanting to know what was going to happen next.

There was a book on the floor, its pages as barren as the one Sebastian gave Tom for Christmas. Harry pulled out the deadly fang from his arm, squinting in pain as he did so. With his strength depleted, it was an effort for Harry to reach the diary. But when he did reach it, he used the Basilisk's fang and forced it onto the diary. Dark ink spilled out of the pages like blood. A hole was burning through the center of the diary, unable to handle the venom of the Basilisk.

Tom didn't understand what was happening as he watched. The diary was his; Sebastian had given it to him. Yet, there it was in Harry's memories, burning into oblivion.

The Pensieve rippled and the scene began to fade away. Harry's panting figure grew further away and collapsed before the streaming strands of silver took its place. That can't be all! Tom prodded the contents with his wand.

One of the strands spread and revealed another memory.

Harry was in the second floor, girl's bathroom. He was staring curiously at one of the taps of the sink. There was a small snake carved into it. Unsure of what compelled him to do so, Harry said in clear Parseltongue, "Open up."

The sink sank into the floor and a large pipe appeared in its stead. Cautiously, Harry entered the pipe and slid into darkness.

This memory was shorter than the others, lasting less than a minute but revealing more than any of the ones prior. Tom stared at the stone basin, not paying attention at the memories that swam in it. He was still taking in what he had just seen.

A maniacal grin spread on his face followed by a terrifying laugh, "I've finally found it."

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Harry was worried. He couldn't find Tom anywhere; He wasn't in their room, the Common Room, or at the Grand Hall. Xavier and Sebastian said that they hadn't seen him for the last couple of hours. Harry had been at Quidditch practice and was hoping to be with Tom, but he was no where to be found.

Harry took out Xavier's crystal ball and called out Tom's name. Nothing happened. He called it again, but his reflection continued to stare back at him. Harry called Sebastian's name to see if it worked and the Australian's image came out clear. Sebastian was with Xavier in the Common Room, going over Veritaserum for the O.W.L.

Sebastian's image vanished and Harry could see his reflection once more. Why couldn't he find Tom? Xavier had said that the crystal ball would allow him to see anyone no matter where they were. Harry couldn't understand why it neglected to show him where Tom was though.

Hogwarts was like a labyrinth. It would take too long to search for Tom without a general idea of where he might be. Harry now wished that he had brought the Marauder's Map with him; it was more accurate than an ancient crystal ball. Sighing, Harry went downstairs and met with Xavier and Sebastian. Since Tom wasn't here, he might as well try and study for the N.E.W.T.s.

"Still no luck, eh?" Sebastian said as Harry pulled a chair at their table. He had 100 Facts About Veritaserum opened in front of him with notes in his handwriting scribbled along the sides.

"No," Harry took a glance at Xavier's blank page of notes, "Nagini's not even sure where he is."

Xavier wrote something on his parchment and then scratched it out, "I don't see how she would. Tom hasn't let her out of that aquarium since she was hatched." He dipped his quill in a bottle of ink and began to write again only to scratch it out.

"What are you doing?" Harry finally asked.

"Hm? Oh—I'm trying to think of what I might do after Hogwarts."

"I thought you were going into the family business?" said Harry.

"I was—but when I said 'no' to my parents they promised my brother that he would take over."

"Brother?" Harry asked, surprised. "I didn't know you had a younger brother."

Xavier seemed distracted, crossing out various careers he had written down, "Huh? Oh yeah. He's starting Hogwarts when I leave. His name's Abraxas; supposed to be the new face of the Malfoy family." Xavier lowered his quill, "It was going to be me…but I'm kind of out of the family now." He tried to smile but it came out forced and fake.

Harry recalled a family tree in Grimmauld Place that had the faces of some of the members burned from it; members who weren't considered a part of the family anymore. He whispered to himself, "So he isn't Draco's grandfather…or Lucius' father."

"Lucius? No, that's my father. And I'm pretty sure that I'm not a father. Why? Did a Ravenclaw tell you so? 'Cause it's not true!" Xavier lost his composure or a second but quickly regained it. "Ahem—now what sounds better: Minister of Magic or Unspeakable?" he asked, changing the subject away from his family.

"Minister of Magic is too much work," inquired Sebastian, momentarily looking away from his book, "I say go for Unspeakable."

"What d'you think, Harry?"

"Yeah, Unspeakable sounds great."

"Then it's settled…now to find out what that is…" Xavier got up from their table, "I'll be at the library if you need me."

Harry didn't even notice Xavier leave. He was still thinking about how his family had exiled him like that. It was typical of the Malfoy pure-bloods and that was probably why Xavier was kicked out. He was different than them. Not once did Harry ever hear him belittle half-bloods or Muggle-borns. Malfoy had asked him if he had been a pure-blood when they first met. Harry instinctively said 'yes' to avoid an trouble, but now thinking back, he doubted that Xavier would have cared either way.

Xavier thought nothing like the Malfoy family. He was better than them, so it pained Harry to hear that they had outcast their eldest son, just because he didn't follow orders like some puppet.

"You know," said Sebastian, "Xavier doesn't regret his family abandoning him. At least now he'll be able to follow his ambitions and dreams. Even though at first he stayed to be with Tom, now he just wants to do what he wants. My family is very good friends with Xavier's. They're nasty people though, the Malfoys. Always putting down the wizards who aren't pure-blood. It's pitiful that they have to put others down in order to feel superior. Xavier realized sooner that their ways were wrong. That being a pureblood didn't make you better than everyone else. In fact, Xavier said that it made you weaker.

"His family had always given him everything on a golden platter. They never let him experience anything on its own. It protected him from the real world that existed beyond the pure-bloods. That's why Xavier wasn't prepared when he fell in love with Tom…or you."

Harry was listening intently. They seemed to be the only two people in the Common Room at that moment.

"Xavier's family never taught him anything besides etiquette, respect, and superiority over others. They never taught him about friendship, compassion, or love. Xavier experienced all of those on his own, but didn't know how to react to them. That's how he can fall in love so easily. It's because he never learned how not to."

"And you?" Harry stared into Sebastian's reminiscing eyes, "How did you fall in love with Tom?"

"Simple," said Sebastian, getting up and starting to walk out of the room, "I feared him."

The brick wall closed behind Sebastian, leaving Harry alone in the Common Room. The fire that warmed the room blew out, damping the place in shadows.

Harry had thought he finally understood Tom. But now he was more mysterious than before. Xavier and Sebastian—both still loved Tom, but they stood by and watched as Harry took him away from them. How could they just do that? Was Harry a worthier candidate for Tom's affections? Harry didn't think so. But he still couldn't understand why Tom had chosen him out of the three.

He remembered Trey asking him the same thing.

My scar…

That's what Harry had said was the reason. It was the sign of Voldemort marking him as his equal. They were equals. That's why Tom had chosen him.

The brick wall leading to the Slytherin Dorms split open and Tom stepped through it. Harry was about to jump out of his seat to ask him where he had been all day, but common sense kept him glued to his seat.

Tom looked happy. But upon seeing Harry, the feeling of deceit overwhelmed the one of jubilance. Harry saw it in his eye; a look of outrage. But it disappeared incredibly fast, making Harry believe that he had imagined it.

"Sorry for disappearing on you. Dumbledore made me do lines." Tom said simply. Harry knew he was lying.

They settled on a couch and Tom rekindled the fire. They sat in each other's embrace, dwelling in the flames. Tom was exhausted, but when Harry nipped slightly at his neck, he felt renewed with new energy. Harry kissed him softly, sucking the frustration out of him. Tom's eyes closed shutting out all feelings except for the ones Harry was inducing upon him. As they kissed, Tom released his anger, unable to retain it in the heat of their passion.

The fact that Tom was still being lied to escaped him. Harry put one leg over Tom and sat on his lap, making himself more comfortable. He could feel Tom's arousal beneath his robes and he continued to chaste him with kisses. Tom's mind went blank and he heard himself groan under his breath. He had no idea how Harry was making him feel this way; how he was fuming with anger one second and filled with zeal the next.

The events that occurred in the Room of Requirement were forgotten at the moment. Tom didn't want to think about them. It didn't matter of Harry was lying to him, at least he got something good out of it: The location of the Chamber of Secrets.


So what did we learn today? Let's see: Tom knows more about Harry, Harry knows more about Xavier, and Xavier isn't Draco's grandfather. Nope, that would go against Canon stuff and I can't do that because that's wrong! I might do it a little from time to time I think…but that's because it's so hard to keep track of what's real and what's fiction ( especially with all the fanfiction I read). Now, I want to thank everyone who's reviewed because I love reviews (more than Bob!) and anyone who has PMed me and given me wonderful advice. Only reason why I wrote this chapter in Tom's POV (Sorta) was because you guys asked me too. If you guys want something, then ask, and I'll work my hardest to make it happen. So review and I'll be motivated and the next chapter will come out quicker and better. Adios!