Chapter 24- Powerful Memories

*****Harry*****

Harry entered the owlery glad that it was empty. He'd gotten the idea that other people didn't really visit their owls just to chat.

"Hey there, girl. Settled in alright?" he asked, when she fluttered down to settle in front of him. He was glad she had made it back to Hogwarts safely.

Hedwig ruffled her feathers and inclined her head to allow him to pet her.

"Thanks for being so good about Godric and Salazar."

Hedwig looked resolutely away from him and clicked her beak a few times. Harry already knew she didn't really like the snakes, but it was good enough that they wouldn't fight.

"I know, girl. But you know you'll always be my first friend."

She puffed herself up more and nudged Harry's other hand, where she knew he had bits of bacon from breakfast for her. She didn't quite bite his hand, so she had to be happy with him.

She ate quickly and turned back to him.

"Just because I'm too thick to understand you quite as well, doesn't mean that I don't know you're the greatest, girl."

The little affectionate nip on his finger wasn't meant to hurt, or it would have.

"Sorry, I gotta go to class." His afternoon classes were about to start, but after Hedwig hadn't been back in time for breakfast, Harry had just wanted to see her.

"See you at breakfast tomorrow?"

Hedwig gave a little trill, and Harry knew she'd be there to see him.

*****Harry*****

Order returned to Harry's daily schedule in the next days: classes, meals, quidditch practice, and tense students and teachers everywhere, moving quickly through the halls even during the middle of the day.

Walking back towards the Tower after their last class, Harry and his friends kept out of sight as Filch hurried past muttering something to himself about going to talk to Dumbledore. Even when they weren't doing anything against the rules, students stayed away from the man, who was even angrier ever since his cat was petrified.

Looking for what had upset Filch, Harry spotted water seeping out from under the door of a girl's loo. "Hey, this is where Mrs. Norris was attacked," Ron said. Harry realized that he hadn't actually known where that first attack had been before then, since he had been in the dungeons at the time. He had heard that most students walked past the scene after the Halloween Feast though. "You don't think they got someone else, do you?" Ron asked tensely. "Is someone crying?" Now that Ron mentioned it, Harry could hear a girl crying. Harry was unpleasantly reminded of Hermione crying in the girl's loo the year before and being attacked by a troll.

"I think there was water on the floor that night too. Come on," Hermione instructed, pushing the door open. Harry made to follow her.

"Hermione! We can't just walk into a girl's loo," Ron protested. Harry hadn't actually boon thinking of that, but he froze as well.

"It's just Myrtle," Hermione replied. "No one living goes in there ever."

"What?" Both boys asked.

"Moaning Myrtle. That's what people call her. She's a ghost; she haunts one of the toilets. She scares away everyone from using this loo, so you can come in," Hermione explained before going through the door herself. With a glance at each other, Ron and Harry followed more hesitantly. It looked just like a boy's school loo without urinals. Harry wasn't sure why he expected it to be nicer. Water- at least it looked like just water- came from the only closed stall.

"Myrtle?" Hermione called in voice that was nicer and gentler than she had been using to describe the crying ghost outside.

"What?!" a sad voice snapped. The stall door flung open revealing Myrtle. Harry had never seen a young ghost before, and it was- unsettling. The girl only looked a few years older than they were, so Harry could see why she might be upset a lot. "Who are you and what do you want? Come to throw something at me again?"

Hermione looked back at Ron and Harry before asking, "Of course not. Has someone been throwing things at you, Myrtle?"

Harry thought about how it wouldn't really hurt a ghost to have something thrown at her but thought better of commenting. It seemed that her feelings could still get hurt.

"Yes," the ghost whined, but at least she didn't seem as hysterical. Harry thought maybe she liked that someone would listen.

"Did you- happen to see who did it? Or- have you seen anything else strange happening here lately, Myrtle?"

"I didn't see anyone. I was just sitting here, minding my own business, thinking about death," she went on. Harry thought she sounded way too creepy. "And that book fell right through my head!"

"What book?" Hermione asked cautiously. Harry glanced at Ron and saw that he was just as content to let Hermione do the talking as Harry was. Now that he knew that no one was actually in danger, Harry was really feeling that they should leave the girl's loo. And he was remembering that if he had thought there was danger, he was supposed to get his father first. It was just hard to remember that at the right time…

"It's over there," Myrtle pointed. "It washed up from the toilet when I got angry," she explained. "And sad." It was probably lonely being a ghost, especially one that everyone in the castle tried to avoid. But it wasn't like he could just come visit the girl -er dead girl, he supposed- in a girl's loo. Shaking his head slightly, Harry walked over and picked up the book that Myrtle had pointed out.

"Harry," Ron yelped, just as Harry grabbed the book. "Harry, that was stupid," his friend told him, "You can't just pick up strange stuff in the wizarding world. Hasn't your dad told you that?"

Harry frowned, picking up a book had seemed a lot less reckless to him than walking into a loo with a chance of having a girl in it- well a living girl other than Hermione.

"Ron's right," Hermione said, though Harry could see eagerness in her eyes. Not much got between Hermione and a book.

"Well, it hasn't hurt me," Harry reminded them. "And it was making Myrtle upset, so we should get it out of here," he said. That sounded really good of him, right? Almost noble.

"Yes, that would be the nice thing to do," Hermione agreed. "We hope you feel better, Myrtle." It was an eerie feeling that Ron was probably the voice of reason in this situation, but Harry pushed the thought aside. It was just a book, after all. Hermione left the loo first and whispered that they were safe to follow her out without being spotted.

Harry looked over the book as the three walked back to Gryffindor Tower, cautious enough from Ron's warning to not open it yet. The faded date on the cover said that the book was old, about fifty years old. Spotting small engraving on the back of the book, he smiled. "It's a muggle book," he said. "There's a store name and address on the back. It's from a muggle street in London. It can't be that bad. Besides, it's in Hogwarts. I'm sure Dumbledore can stop bad stuff from getting into a castle of kids."

Harry glanced around to see Hermione nodding and Ron biting his lip, "My dad works all the time fixing muggle stuff that's been enchanted… but…"

"Here," Hermione said, leaning over the book in Harry's hands and waving her wand at it, muttering quickly. "It doesn't seem to be jinxed," she said eagerly. "I checked for a lot of common ones and a few nasty ones I've read about."

"Well, go on then, if Hermione says so. What's in it, Harry?"

Harry's face fell when he actually opened the book and thumbed through the pages. Empty. "Nothing," he answered. "Wait, a guy's name on the first page. 'T. M. Riddle.'

"T. M. Riddle?" Ron echoed. "Anyone heard of him? Hermione? Someone from history or something?" he asked. "Maybe someone started taking notes in history class and gave up really quickly."

"Probably just the bloke who owned the book," Harry replied sullenly. He didn't know why he'd gotten so worked up over the thing. It had just seemed- exciting and was a bit of a letdown. "Looks like a muggle diary that he just never wrote in."

"Why would someone bother trying to flush it then?" Ron wondered.

"Maybe there's more to it than it looks," Hermione put in eagerly. "Come on," she said, walking faster than both of them, almost a jog towards the tower, leaving Ron and Harry somewhat more excited to follow her. They might as well leave the hallways outside of a girl's loo.

Minutes later, Hermione had arranged her wand and a red lump of clay or something on a table in the common room. "Give it here," Hermione instructed, holding out a hand. Harry was hesitant to part with it, but handed the mysterious book to his friend. If anyone could figure it out, it was Hermione. "It might just be written in invisible ink," she whispered. She tapped the diary a few times with her wand and said, "Aparecium!" in a low voice.

Nothing happened, and Harry was disappointed, but he made to grab the book back. Hermione kept a firm hold though. "Let me try something else," she said, grabbing the red lump. "It's called a revealer," she explained. They were all disappointed again when rubbing various parts of the first page did nothing. "Sorry to get your hopes up," Hermione finally said, handing him back the diary.

"Might as well write in it yourself, since it's useless otherwise. Don't know why this Riddle bloke never wrote in it. Pretty cool that it wasn't too messed up by the water though," Ron commented. "It might have some sort of protections on it."

Like Ron said, the pages had been soaked in the loo, but they were almost dry now. The cover was shabby, and the pages were a little yellow, but it wasn't as bad off as Harry would have expected to be that old and not belong to someone who cared about it. And the page hadn't peeled or crumbled when Hermione rubbed the revealer hard on a damp page, even though it just looked like a muggle book from fifty years ago. There had to be something special about the book- Harry could feel it.

Fishing out a quill and ink, Harry began to write, "My name is Harry-" he hesitated over his last name as he had for more than a year, ever since he found out who his father was. Before he wrote more, the ink vanished anyway. But before he could be disappointed, different words appeared on the page.

"Hello, Harry. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?"* That was the coolest bit of magic Harry had ever seen. Hermione gasped.

"Harry, shut it now," Ron said firmly. Harry had already lifted his quill towards the page to respond, but Ron's arm reached over and snapped the book shut.

"What's your problem?" Harry shot at his supposed best friend that had just messed up something really interesting. He dimly recognized that they were starting to make a scene in the middle of the common room. A quick scan of the room later saw each of the other four Weasley sibilings look over from different parts of the room. Weasleys definitely stuck together. He wasn't really worried about the twins or Ginny- though Ginny was looking at him strangely- but he'd have to be quiet or 'Percy the Prefect' might interfere.

"Harry, you need to show that book to your dad." Ron said insistently. "Books don't write back, especially ones that are supposed to be muggle ones. This definitely seems like the kinds thing my dad works with? They can be really nasty, and I've never even heard of a book coming up with words on its own." Ron had been annoying lately, Harry thought as he held the book to his chest. He didn't want to give up the book. But, looking around, Harry noticed that Hermione was looking worried too and nodding. They probably weren't both wrong, Harry could admit to himself.

"Fine, fine, of course I'll show it to him. I show everything to him," Harry said, resenting in that moment that he was always such a well behaved little boy. He wasn't just some little kid. He felt better with the book back in his hands though, away from his friends. "But we have to go to dinner about now, or it'll look odd right?" Other students were starting to head for the portrait hole. "I couldn't talk to him right now anyway, and I'm not supposed to miss meals," Harry said. "I'll just put it in my trunk now, and I can take it to him after dinner. Or in the morning," Harry said, remembering that he was supposed to stay in the dorms after dinner because of the attacks. He didn't know how he could have forgotten about that.

"We'll go too so you won't be alone," Ron chimed in.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry said, running the book up to his trunk and meeting his two friends at the bottom of the stairs for the three of them to head off to the Great Hall.

Harry felt pleased as he dug into pudding after a delicious meal, not really paying attention to the conversation around him, but thinking about what was in his trunk in the tower. Of course he'd take the book to his dad. He could trust that his father would only take the book away from Harry if it were actually dangerous, and Harry was sure it wasn't.

After all, his father hadn't taken away his invisibility cloak, and that had to be more dangerous for a student than a magical book that would have a conversation with you. There were probably loads of them in the magical world, even if Ron wasn't familiar with them. It wasn't like Ron knew everything magical. And Hermione knew a lot, but she had spent even less time around magic than Harry had, since Harry had spent the summer at Hogwarts. Maybe Harry would go down with Hermione and Ron right after dinner to bring it to his father. It would be fine so long as Harry didn't go alone.

Half an hour later, Harry's throat sank into his gut as he looked at the disheveled room. He knew what he would- or rather wouldn't find immediately. The diary was gone. There was something wrong with that book, Harry realized.

Something had made someone else throw it away in the first place. Something that had made Harry not want to give it up, and be irritated at Ron for saying he should, even though Harry knew deep down that he should show it to his father.

Now Harry really needed to talk to his dad. Hermione agreed to stay and try to figure out who might have taken the book- maybe someone in Gryffindor, which was unsettling to Harry to think that someone would steal from a fellow Gryffindor. Ron would come with him at least as far as Harry's father's office in the dungeons so Harry could talk to his dad.

****Severus*****

"Hey, um, Dad?" Harry said, walking into the room. Severus raised an eyebrow and looked at the shy child in front of him. Harry didn't call him 'Dad' very often, and he had a suspicion that he wouldn't like whatever followed. Had the boy gotten into trouble? Severus almost hoped that it was that simple. Why was everything in their lives so serious?

"Yes, Harry?"

"So, I found this book- in the- well… we heard crying in the girl's loo, and it was- well, I remembered Hermione last year, so we just peeked in," the boy was leaving large pieces out and wasn't making much sense. "But we met Myrtle, the ghost that haunts there I guess, and she was upset, and I found this book that someone threw in there. And it was old, but still empty. And we were writing in it, testing it out, but the ink disappeared and then it talked back, and I was going to bring it to you tonight, I promise I was, but then I came back from dinner, and it was gone from my room, and I- don't know what happened."

"The book talked back? What do you mean, Harry?" Severus asked, feeling uneasy. That seemed like an advanced piece of magic for a student to enchant a book in that way. Perhaps a few NEWTs students, but he hadn't heard of such a thing being an assigned project.

"I wrote in it. I- I said my name was Harry, just like I was writing in a diary or something, and he- it- said that its name was Tom Riddle. And then we closed it and didn't say anymore, and I was going to take it to you the first good chance I got, I swear, but someone must have taken it from my room. And er- the book felt weird, but I don't know how to describe it. And I'm sorry I didn't take it to you right away."

Tom Riddle, the name resonated with dread in his mind.

Tom Riddle.

Severus still needed to talk to his son. Maybe all of this, the child's worry, could have been avoided if he had just… "Thank you, Harry. I greatly appreciate you telling me. You were right to do so. I-" he sighed, "I'm sorry I've been so distant since the attacks began. I just haven't wanted to put you in any vulnerable positions." He was being an idiot.

Severus continued, "But I did find a- piece of information that I neglected to inform you, Harry. I was able to capture and question Dobby, and he mentioned a small, black book. If I had- informed you earlier, you might have known to not even touch a book that resembled the description." He was supposed to tell the boy as much as he thought the boy could handle. Certainly, that would have been important information to share.

He tried to justify it to himself, "There was simply- so many other things going on, and another attack happened that evening. And I hadn't wanted to talk about such things during your time away from the castle." He had just- wanted to keep his son away from anything dangerous, but by not passing along information, he had endangered the child more by his thoughtless oversight.

Severus was on his way to becoming Dumbledore, irritatingly only sharing information when he thought it necessary. Severus didn't like understanding, even sympathizing with the old man. But then, Severus hadn't told the headmaster about the diary either, and it did pose a potential threat to the entire school. No, he had only told Dora, though she couldn't have known that he hadn't told anyone else.

"That's okay," the boy whispered, looking at the ground. Severus knew the child didn't like to not be told things. The child was probably still wallowing in his own guilt for not coming forward with the book immediately.

"That's all that I know, Harry. Keep your eyes open for anyone who might have taken it, but do not approach that person, okay? When I know more, I will let you know. Tom Riddle was a very dangerous person whom you should have nothing to do with." Severus couldn't quite tell him everything, who Tom Riddle was, even though he knew he should. His son looked like he wanted to say something more but wouldn't. The child started heading towards the door.

What was Severus doing, sending the child away? When someone had broken into the boy's room and gone through his things just that night? Someone who had access to Gryffindor Tower? Severus couldn't think straight.

"Actually, you should remain here tonight, Harry. Alright? Tell your friends, whom I assume are waiting for you in the hall, that will be fine here for the night." Harry nodded.

"And if they would like to stay the night as well, they may," Severus added as an afterthought. He was trying to look after too many children. Severus thought there was a little smile on Harry's face as he ran back to the door. Perhaps he had done one thing right at least. If a second year girl spent the night in the same room as two second year boys, the impropriety wouldn't hurt anyone, and he wasn't walking children back to Gryffindor Tower tonight, even if it was still well before curfew.

In the end, Granger hadn't even been there, and young Weasley had wanted to get back, so Severus sent the boy through the floo to the Gryffindor common room. It was an access he had as a Head of House that he had never exercised before except for the Slytherin common room, but was glad to have, rather than face the effort of anything else when he felt like he was about to collapse and needed to think.

*****Severus*****

Severus allowed himself to slump in his chair when Harry was shut safely inside of his room for the night.

Tom Riddle. Severus hadn't heard that name in years.

"Step forward, Severus. Your honored brother Lucius has said you are ready for your initiation into our ranks, and I must say that I agree. Severus, tell me your strengths."

"My Lord, I have made significant progress towards my Potions Mastery. I will likely be one of the youngest to attain the title. And I have significant talent with the Dark Arts as well."

"Are you proficient with the three Great Curses, the so called 'Unforgivables?'"

"Yes, My Lord."

"You have used each of them then? On a 'human' victim?"

"No… My Lord…"

"Yes well, are muggles really human anyway?" he asked, and Severus did not respond. A response didn't seem to be expected of him. He began to feel more nervous about this whole situation. This did not feel the way that Lucius had described.

"Tell me, Severus, what are your weaknesses?"

That was a question that no real Slytherin would answer, at least honestly. A Slytherin could never give another person, especially another Snake, information that could lead to his downfall. He had to answer, so he would give information that his Lord already knew, "I am- but a half-blood, My Lord."

"Yes, Severus, you must know that we are already aware. But the Princes are a respectable enough family to make up for the… indiscretion of your late mother. I embrace you despite this infirmity."

"In fact, you shall make it a strength. I see a younger version of myself in you, Severus Snape. I too, had an undeserving muggle father."

Severus concealed his shock and did not comment, as was expected of a Slytherin.

"I was able to purge that undignified portion of history from my life. I can trust you, can't I Severus?" The man didn't wait for a response. "I sense that people have not trusted you often in the past. Severus, that is just one thing in your life that will change from this point forward. You will be a trusted brother. No one would ever call me Tom Riddle now."

"It is truly sad that your own blight of a father died before you could take the power and kill him yourself," the Dark Lord continued, chilling Severus's blood.

That was what Severus had wanted though, wasn't it? To kill the bastard who had beaten him, smacked him around for as long as he could remember? The brute who had beaten his mother as well, forced her to abandon her magic, weakened her so. Why did she never fight, even for her son? Severus didn't have any proof, but he knew that his father had killed his mother in the end, or at least beaten her mentally and physically over the years until she gave up on life entirely.

"However," the Dark Lord spoke again, "You have the opportunity to do so now, at least in spirit." And with a wave of the Dark Lord's wand, a man floated in and was dropped near Severus's feet. Severus was ashamed that he took a step back from the sight. The man was drunk almost to the point of unconsciousness and reeked of hard liquor. Eyes unfocused, ugly.

"I found this wretch for you. They were of the same mold, this creature and the scum that claimed to be your father. Drunkards who beat their children and disrespect those who nature set as better than them. What do you want to do, Severus?"

Severus stared at the man, so like his father after a particularly violent rage that had tired the drunk old man out. Fury built in the young man, the anger so fierce that it made him even more afraid.

"Kill your father, Severus."

And then it was over. Severus was made part of the inner circle in less than an hour's time. The Dark Lord called his other followers to him, and Severus received the Dark Mark. The whole day was the beginning of the most terrible mistakes in his life, and he already knew it as he stared at the body of the dead muggle who was not his father, unblemished from the killing curse. Severus felt the pain in his arm for the mark that he knew he would have until he was as dead as that muggle, and that probably wouldn't even take very long.

Just before the Dark Lord called his other followers, he had said, "Look into my eyes, Severus. You can hide nothing from your master." And Severus in his weakened emotional state let him in, truly let him in, to see all of his terrible childhood, his need for acceptance. The only thing he held back was Lily. Perhaps this was so the Dark Lord wouldn't see more weakness, or only because that was his own private hurt. The man would never know that his childhood friend, his only love, was a- mu- was a muggleborn…" Severus thought.

"Very good. You have Occlumency skills I see, but you hide nothing from your master, not that you could. It will serve you well in the plan I have for you. You, Severus Snape, will be my spy."

Severus came to himself, staring at the empty room around him. Had that been the biggest mistake of his life, or just a memorable bump along the path of terrible deeds? It had been the first and only time he directly took a life with his wand, but Severus knew he had been the cause of so many more.

How many times had he brewed potions for his former master? How many times had he passed along true information before his allegiances had finally shifted? Severus sighted and rubbed his temple. He felt just a little better knowing that Harry was safe in his own room in their quarters. At least he hadn't let the boy go back to Gryffindor Tower, for the child's own safety of course. The dungeon rooms felt so desolate when Harry wasn't around. Or Dora.

A/N: So… darker there, but the scene wouldn't leave me alone. And now Severus and Harry both know about the diary. Severus is starting to have more information to work with, perhaps enough to catch the new owner? Please tell me what to think! The reviews have just kept pouring in, almost 300 reviews, and over 700 follows (that one is crazy to me)- thank you so much!