When Harry woke up the next morning, both Tom and Sirius were still there. He didn't expect anything else. They were both still a sleep. Sirius lay curled up in his chair, like the dog he could turn into. It was weird seeing the man with brown hair and a different face, but it was better than his godfather being send back to Azkaban.
His eyes turned towards Tom. The Slytherin slept, like he lived, sitting upright in his chair. While most people tossed and turned all night, Tom looked like he hadn't moved at all. There was not a hair out of place and his posture was graceful. It was a little bit weird to see.
Harry got out of the bed silently, not wanting to wake either of them. He barely got his robes on, when madame Pomfrey came out of her chamber. "Ah mister Potter, good to see that you are up. Let me do a quick check-up, but I'm sure you can go."
"I feel fine." He said, while the nurse traced her wand over his body. She looked quite pleased with the results.
"You are fine." She said. "The headmaster would like to see you now."
Dumbledore? That would be an awkward conversation. He wasn't even sure he wanted to talk to the headmaster. But avoiding it would do no one any good. With a sigh he looked at Tom. A pair of familiar dark blue eyes stared back at him.
"Well? What are you waiting for?" The Slytherin heir asked.
"You." Harry answered. "I suppose I still can't go anywhere without you or your diary?"
"You cannot." One day he was going to wipe that smirk of Tom's face.
He grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment, to write a note to Sirius. His godfather would be furious if he just left, without telling the man where he had gone.
Dear Sirius,
Dumbledore wanted to see me. I will come by later. Your brother is fine. He's currently staying at Grimmauldplace. Kreacher is taking care of him.
Harry.
He placed the note on the nightstand, in direct view of Sirius. He looked at his godfather a few seconds longer. He knew what he was going to ask Tom in exchange for the next horcrux. And he was certain the Slytherin could pull it off.
"Oh, and mister Potter." Madame Pomfrey said. "Try not to get hurt again. Otherwise you can better reserve a permanent bed in my hospital wing."
He grinned at her innocently. It was true, he was in here every other day. But then again, his life was a lot more exciting and dangerous than that of an ordinary teenager.
They left the hospital wing. Harry still didn't feel like talking to the headmaster, but he knew he could better get this over with quickly. Neither of them spoke a word on their way to Dumbledore's office.
"Uhm..." Harry looked at the gargoyle. "Sherbet lemon?" The gargoyle did not move. Madame Pomfrey could at least have given him the password! "Lemon drops? Chocolate frogs? Ginger newt? Pumpkin fizz?"
"Harry, what are you doing?" Tom asked, looking at him incredulous.
"I was trying to think of the password." Harry mumbled, still looking at the Gargoyle. What else? There were so many sweets, it was hard to pick the right one. "Acid pops?" He tried. The gargoyle moved, revealing a spiralling stair.
"He uses a sweet as password?" The Slytherin asked mockingly. "That man is insane."
"Probably, but I like these password's more, then those of the Slytherin commonroom." He grinned. "Pureblood? That's not only ridiculous, it's also pretty obvious."
"It is because it is so obvious, that no one is going to guess it." Tom stated, stepping on the stairs, followed by Harry. "Why kind of passwords do Gryffindor's use?"
"It varies, but it's not that obvious. We don't use words like 'bravery' or 'dumb luck'." He knocked on the door to the headmaster's office. A moment later a voice said 'enter' and that's what they did.
Dumbledore's office hadn't changed a bit since he was last there. There was still a lot of small instruments, huffing and puffing, and the portraits of the previous headmasters still hang in their respective places. They were all awake, looking at him and Tom.
"Ah Harry, thank you for coming." The headmaster said. "And Tom...could you please wait outside."
"I am afraid I cannot do that, headmaster." Tom replied.
"He can't Professor." Harry said. "We are bound to one another. Whatever you have to say to me, you can say in the presence of Tom."
The headmaster looked at the both of them, before he sighed and gestured the both of them to sit down. Harry looked at Dumbledore, wondering what the headmaster wanted from him. He had made it perfectly clear, he didn't want anything to do what whatever scheme the man could come up with. He had his own plan of action now, and it was working perfectly, give or take a few unforeseen accidents.
"I just want to make sure, that you know what you are doing." Dumbledore began. "This is the younger version of Lord Voldemort you are dealing with."
Dumbledore spoke as if Tom wasn't even in the room. Harry did not know why, but it bothered him. The Slytherin was a living human being, he deserved to be acknowledged. "I know perfectly well who he is, professor. Unlike some people he does not hide anything from me, he is not putting up a façade to protect me." He emphasized those lost two words.
"Harry my boy, please listen to me." The headmaster looked tired. "He is using you to get whatever he wants, you cannot trust him."
"And I can trust you? Is that what you are saying?" He asked heatedly. His magic flared for a moment, breaking a small jar to his left. "You have lied to me for the past four years! You kept me locked up in a house with people that hate me, just because you thought it to be better!"
Harry shoved his chair back in anger. "I don't trust you, and frankly I don't really like you any more either."
His green eyes were filled with defiance, pain and anger. "You are not going to use me anymore. I can make my own decisions. And right now, I'm helping Tom. I made him a promise, and I intent to keep it. Unlike with you I know exactly where I'm standing."
That last part was not completely true. The Slytherin didn't tell him everything, there were to many things he did not know yet. But for the time being he accomplished more with Tom, then with Dumbledore. At least Tom answered his questions honestly, or as truthful as the Slytherin had to answer them under the magic of their vows.
"I know I have wronged you." Dumbledore looked defeated now. "And I am truly sorry, but I stay by what I said last time, it was all for your own protection. I am merely asking you to think about it Harry. I'm not going to interfere in your choices. He did kill your parents, and many others."
"He did not kill my parents!" Harry just couldn't stop yelling, the anger was too much. But in the back of his mind he knew it was not his anger, nor Tom's. It was Voldemort's. "Voldemort killed my parents. It was Voldemort who killed all those innocent people."
The headmaster had a curious look in his bright blue eyes. "You are making a distinction between Tom and Voldemort." The man remarked. "You do realise they are one and the same person?"
"No, they are not." He said. He could feel the Slytherin's eyes on him, but he did not look back. "Voldemort is a mass murdering psychopath. Tom...he's different." Harry realised he was probably wrong. It was Tom who chose to become Voldemort, who chose to kill all those people. But perhaps he could change something about that. They had a long journey ahead, perhaps he had enough time to make his companion see his mistakes. "Could we please stop this conversation now? I'm not going to abandon Tom, I'm not going to tell you how he came into this world, or where I found him, and I'm not going to help you with whatever scheme you have in your mind. You might as well give up."
"Give up?" The headmaster asked. "I will never give up on you Harry. But I will put an end to this topic for now."
For the first Dumbledore looked straight at Tom. "As for you, Tom. I believe you need a place to stay. Your old dorm will suffice for now. You can participate in all the classes of the sixth year, if that pleases you. I will, however, not tolerate any dark magic in this school. Is that clear?"
"I will participate in any and all classes Harry participates in. And I want you to resort him into Slytherin, as he cannot leave my side at this very moment." Tom replied, as if they were discussing what to get for dinner.
"Hang on!" Harry looked at Tom. "I'm not becoming a snake, just to please you. You can come and sleep with me in the Gryffindor tower. Unlike you I have friends here and I w..."
Tom had raised his hand. "You do no longer talk to your friends. Your housemates will never accept a Slytherin in their midst, let alone the Heir of Slytherin himself. I believe you are brave enough to face a few snakes during the nights. We can still sit at your table during meals, if that makes you happy." Harry recognised the parseltongue, replying in the same manner.
"Well..." It was hard to argue with that. But Harry would not become a snake, not in a million years. "I'll remain a Gryffindor. And if any of your new housemates even tries to attack me, we're moving to my dorm."
"If any try, they will face my wrath." Tom hissed. A shiver ran down Harry's spine. Sometimes the Slytherin reminded him of his future self. At a moment such as this, he doubted he could change Tom, change his path to destruction.
"I didn't say they would succeed." He continued stubbornly in English. "But if they try, I'm leaving, and you are coming with me."
"Fine. I will make sure then that they do not even try." Tom smirked.
"Fruitloop." Harry muttered.
"I cannot allow Harry to sleep in the Slytherin dormitories, if that is what the both of you were talking about." Dumbledore intervened.
Harry looked at the headmaster. The man couldn't decide where he was sleeping. That was up to him. He knew it was unheard of, but it was not forbidden. There was no rule that prevented him from sleeping in another dormitory.
"But sir." He started, his voice sugary sweet and questioning. "Would this not promote house-unity? Is this not what the sorting hat wanted?"
He felt the Slytherin Heir's eyes upon him, but he ignored it. His eyes where fixed on Dumbledore. The headmaster looked surprised. "You of all people must know how unbalanced the contact between Gryffindor and Slytherin is. Perhaps this might help other people see that we can work together. Isn't that much more important? After all we need to be united if we want to win this war."
"House-unity is very important." Dumbledore said perplexed. "But..."
Harry raised a hand. "I know what you are going to say." A smile appeared on his face. "But if the other Slytherins are okay with it, will you approve?"
He wasn't as dumb as he looked. He knew exactly what to say, to get what he needed. After all he had learned from the best. His web was woven around Dumbledore, rendering him unable to refuse his request. It would damage the headmaster's reputation if word got out that the man didn't really promote house-unity, but denied every student the chance to get to know other houses, or the people in them.
"Of course." Dumbledore answered. "But I must advice against it Harry. He will use you and..."
"Throw me aside? Like you are going to do?" For a moment Harry felt the anger again, but he banished it to the back of his mind. The sugary sweet smile came back." Thank you so much for your concern, professor, and for your consent."
After those words, he got up from the chair once more. "Let's go Tom, I believe we need to move my stuff."
They left the headmaster's office, without saying another word. They had won this round, but next time it wouldn't be this easy.
"That was quit a speech in there." Tom remarked five minutes later. "Is your Slytherin-side awakening?"
Harry made a soft noise, not wanting to reply to that question.
"Using his weakness against him, was quit a cunning move." The Slytherin Heir continued. "And your acting was not half bad either. With a bit of practise, you can become truly good."
Harry tried to shut those words out. The sorting hat had almost placed him in Slytherin, Dumbledore had told him it was because of his choice that he was placed in Gryffindor. Thinking back on it now, it didn't make him feel any better. His character and skill-sets where those of a Slytherin, the basics at least. Only by living in the house of the lions, he had learned to be one of them. Brave and stupid.
He was still a Gryffindor at heart, but that didn't mean he couldn't use his Slytherin-half to gain what he needed at this very moment. Tom was right, dragging the Slytherin into the den of lions, was a bad idea. Placing a half lion, half snake between an all house full of snakes, with the biggest snake of all as his protector, that could work.
"...but you will have to learn to protect yourself with actual words, instead of made-up ones." Tom was still speaking. "Fruitloop is not going to get you anywhere in my house."
"You're just saying that because you don't know what it means." Harry yawned. He was actually tired, even though it was only midday. He stopped in front of the fat lady. "Mimbulus Mimbeltonia."
A moment later the both of them stepped through the portrait-hole. Harry was glad it was midday and most people were in the great hall, for lunch. Most, but not all. Hermione was the first to look up, when she heard someone come in.
"Harry." She got to her feet and wanted to come his way, until she saw Tom. Immediately an awkward silence fell.
Ron's ears were red, the boy looked angry. "What is he doing here?"
Harry sighed. He had hoped to have to conversation tomorrow, or maybe even the day after that, but not after that tiring and useless dialogue with the headmaster. "His soul is bound to mine, he is not going anywhere." He simply stated. "And if you two would excuse us, we have a lot to do."
"Harry, don't go." Hermione grabbed his wrist, looking into his eyes. "Please, talk to us."
"I really don't feel like it right now." He yawned again, tracing a hand through his already messy hair. "Can we do this later?"
"Please Harry." She said softer. "We need to understand." Her eyes rested upon Tom for a moment, but she quickly looked back at him.
Harry was surprised the Slytherin heir hadn't said anything yet. Usually Tom had a comment on everything and everyone. Still he didn't look at his companion, he knew there would be a bored or irritated look in those dark eyes, even though Tom posture would be calm and patient.
"There is not much to understand Hermione. He offered his help to defeat Voldemort. I accepted it." Harry said. "He was there, at the moment no one else was, when I needed to talk to someone, and get a straight -not entirely useful- answer."
"You could have come to us." She said softly. "We are your friends, have been for the past four years."
He yanked his wrist out of Hermione's grip, his eyes went cold and distant. "Friends don't shut each other out." He hissed. "They don't leave each other locked up in a house, all alone, without a scarp of news." He shook his head. "I don't care what Dumbledore said. You could have told me something! No, always the same letters, the same useless answers. And while I was stuck there, you two were together, having fun, knowing everything. Did you laugh?" He asked.
"No Harry..." Her voice was soft now, tears formed in her eyes. "We just...we couldn't. Dumbledore had forbidden it."
"Oh yes, keeping secrets from me, is what he does best!" His magic flared out of control. The window to his right, burst into a thousand pieces. "Let's leave Harry all on his own. I'm sure it will be fun to see how he gets attack by dementors and almost kicked out of school! You have no idea what I've been through!"
"Harry." A hand was placed on his shoulder. "Calm down. There is no use in destroying the common room."
"We're sorry." Hermoine sobbed, her face was wet with tears. "We wanted to be there for you."
Ron stepped in, placing an arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer. "That was uncalled for mate." the red-head said. "It's not our fault you were locked up in that house."
"But you didn't do much about it either, now did you?" Harry could feel the anger underneath crawling underneath is skin, wanting to get out again.
"What did you expect from us?" The red-head asked. "We can't just jump on a broom and fly you away from those muggles. YouKnowWho is after you...was after you. You're already on his team now."
Ron looked at Tom with disgust.
"You know what Ron." Harry hissed. "Drop dead. I don't need either of you. I have managed perfectly on my own."
He left looked at the both of them for a moment longer, before he stalked up the stairs and into their dormitory. The faster he packed, faster he was out of here. And to think he was doing all of this for them. They could at least show some gratitude.
He grabbed some of his stuff, and dropped it in his trunk. "You know what." He said, while throwing some more stuff in his trunk, breaking a vial of ink in the process. "I'm actually glad we're leaving this place."
Tom sighed and grabbed his wrist again. "Calm down, you are giving me a headache with all those emotions." The Slytherin pushed him on the bed, and grabbed his wand. A moment later all of his stuff was levitation and folded neatly into his trunk. The vial of ink repaired itself.
"I understand how you are feeling Harry." The Slytherin Heir spoke, while levitating the trunk into the air. "But they are right. This is not their doing, it is Dumbledore's. You need to learn to control that temper."
"I just feel angry all the time." Harry said softly, his head hurt. "They don't understand what it is to be me. I'm always on my own, fighting on my own. People look at me, like I'm from another species, because of that stupid scar on my head."
"You are on your own, not because of your scar, but because you are different from them, more powerful." Tom said.
"I'm not that powerful." He got up from the bed, looking out of the window for a moment. "You are powerful, and Dumbledore is. I'm just lucky."
"Yes, that to." The Slytherin Heir admitted. "But you are powerful as well. When you get angry I can feel your magic. It became even stronger since that ritual. Perhaps your raw magic was released."
For the first time during their conversation Harry looked straight at Tom. How could his magic be released so suddenly? Did it have something to do with their connection? Not that it mattered, he still didn't believe he was as strong as Dumbledore, Voldemort or Tom. It was his luck that saved him all those times he duelled Voldemort, not extraordinary power or skills.
"Let's go." He murmured. He wanted to get out of here. Right now, it reminded him of Ron and Hermione and the pain that came with them. He followed Tom and his trunk back into the commonroom. His two best friends were still there. Ron however did not look up but Hermione did.
"Where are you going?" She asked softly, her eyes on his trunk.
"Somewhere else. Tom can't stay here, neither can I." And with those words, without looking back at them, he left the Gryffindor commonroom and his friends.