Chapter 25:

Albus Dumbledore couldn't help but be very concerned.
He knew, of course, that there would be some effect on Harry - one couldn't go through an ordeal such as the boy had and not change and adapt to it.

He was just worried about what Harry was adapting into.

He knew some didn't understand why he hadn't pushed back more, now that he had the opportunity...Severus certainly didn't, of those old enough to know and understand such things.

But Tom Riddle was subtle, charismatic, and he knew the Dark Lord would have painted a manipulative picture of him the second he could, and would continue to do so. He rather prized himself on his own intelligence, and wasn't stupid enough to think Riddle wasn't the primary influence on Harry's thoughts and world view and character judgements at the moment. He lived with the boy, had control over him.

He had to be very careful not to shove whatever balance the two had managed to find, because he knew Harry would be the one to suffer for it. Whilst sacrifices were regrettably necessary in war, he preferred to not make unnecessary ones if he could avoid it.

He couldn't push too hard right now, because he knew Riddle would be driving his plans forward at full tilt even if he didn't know them all, sliding his pieces across the board and around Harry to tie the boy in knots and whatever position was desired.

Riddle clearly misjudged how much Harry would lash out at that, how much the boy was good and true and kind. Maybe Tom could find grips there, indeed, he was certain he had and would by the way Harry was reacting, defending the Dark wizard. But Harry was good. He sided with the good, and though he believed in the goodness and morality of the light cause himself, he wasn't so naive as to think they weren't all human in the end, if only one looked close enough.

Goodness was never one thing or another, it was more subjective than that. Harry would do what he thought was right, if he could, and defend the innocent.

Manipulating the boy was going to end very, very badly for Tom Riddle, when such things came to light. Harry would feel betrayed...and then he would come back to the light side for advice. He needed Tom to slip up, and then he could offer his own counsel, when Harry was angry, or scared.

He needed to be gentle. He need to be careful. He needed to be clever.
And this was not over yet.

He suspected Severus had been compromised somehow, due to his behaviour, but because of said compromising position he could find no way to prove it. That thought was only proven in how Snape was acting as the link between Voldemort and them - Tom wouldn't entrust Harry with him if he didn't have some form of security.

No, he would have to be careful around Severus for now too, and explore alternate means. He was quite certain he had a few bargaining points, and had a letter that he would get Harry to deliver to his new housemate.

After all, if you had a piece in enemy territory that held allegiance to you, it was only stupid not to use it to greater effect before withdrawing it.

Maybe this would even prove to be a good thing, in the end.
Perhaps.

Harry sat down next to Ron again, wishing Hermione was here too. She would have been able to make sense of all of this, she was smart.

"Can we get Hermione?" he asked around. There was a hesitation around the room, and his brow furrowed. "...she is okay, isn't she? You all said she was okay?!" He could feel his fists starting to clench as he felt agitated.

"We thought it best to take this more slowly, Potter," Severus stated, from the door, a strange glint to his eyes. Ron was looking around, a little confused.

"Why can't Hermione come? You always said she could come here before."

"This isn't before," Mrs Weasley mumbled, regretfully. Harry wetted his lips.

"...and why's that?" he growled. He could feel a black mood growing in the pit of his stomach. This was supposed to be a good, happy day - a perfect reunion where he could just be with his friends. "We can go somewhere else if you don't want her-"

"-She's a muggleborn, you stupid child!" Snape snapped. Harry glared back, standing up from his chair.

"I'm not stupid!" he snapped. "What the hell does her being a muggleborn matter? What, you think because I live with Tom I suddenly believe in Blood Purism or something?"

"Who's Tom?" Fred and George asked in unison. Harry blinked, momentarily startled out of his anger.

"...Tom. Tom Riddle." Their expression's darkened. "You know, diary Voldemort."
Their expressions were definitely dark now. He shouldn't have brought up the diary, though he had no clue what had happened to it. "...er, does someone want to fill me in on what I've missed?"

"I'm sorry Harry." That was Dumbledore's voice again, and he whipped around, flushed with anger. "But I don't think that's a good idea. You live with Tom, and whilst I fully believe you wouldn't ever willingly betray your friends, Voldemort is very talented in this...magic which allows him to read your mind."

"You mean Legilimency?"
"...you know about Legilimency?" Snape questioned slowly. Dumbledore's expression was neutral. Harry was starting to wonder, uncomfortably, if he should just keep his mouth shut so he could see Hermione or play Wizard's Chess with Ron in peace.

"...Tom told me about it," he said.

"Tom's been telling you a lot of things it seems." That was Percy. Harry could feel his shoulders hunching in defensively, eyes narrowing.

"You try bloody well being kidnapped and have no one else to talk to and see if you just ignore him. Never mind that he's liable to throw a temper tantrum if I pretend he doesn't know I exist - believe me, I tried. Not so fun when I don't have a wand and he's a powerful dark lord and a magical genius." His chest was heaving as he finished his rant.

And he was getting really sick of them staring at him like this. All of the colour had drained out of their faces too. He felt terrible, gut churning. He resisted the urge to apologise.

"What, you mean you get on with him?" Fred and George asked. "You do know what's he done?"
Ginny's name hung heavily, suffocatingly, on the air and Mrs Weasley's eyes began to look a little red. Harry swallowed thickly.
"Ginny got on with him too," he said, barely audibly. He instantly regretted that too, and sighed, even as they all shifted strangely. It was so - difficult - to explain. "I know he's not a nice person, and I'm definitely not on his side, he's a bastard. He killed Ginny, and Hedwig, and I know he would kill many other people if he thought it was necessary...but he's not horrible all of the time either. He's...just human, and yeah, sometiimes I get on with him. Often I don't. It's like living with people in dorms though, when you live with someone all the time you kind of have to stop fighting so much every second of the day because it's too tiring."

"And are you tired of fighting him, Harry?" Dumbledore asked softly, a glint in his eyes. Harry bit his lip, hands twisting.

"Like I said, I'm not on his side. I hate Voldemort and what he does, and to be honest the Death Eaters didn't particularly make a good first impression either, not in the least because most of them wanted me dead and tried to throw a -" what was the spell again? "-y'know, the torture one, at me. Cruciatus!"

The adults blanched, whilst the younger Weasley's looked confused. Yeah, he should definitely stop talking now. Trying to explain just made things worse, and he didn't want to worry them.

"Anyway," he continued. "I'm fine. Why does all this mean Hermione can't come here? You think Tom will get information out of me, cause of Legilimency? And what...attack her because she's muggleborn?"

"We think it's best not to keep you too informed, just for now, giving your situation - for your sake as well as ours," Dumbledore said quietly. Harry's insides clenched with a hot rage, frustrated, but he did understand. He still wanted to see if Hermione was okay though.

Obviously he wasn't going to be told much of what had been happening.

"Can't you just teach me the mind shieldy thing?" he asked. "Occ-I can't think of the word. The opposite of legilimency?"

"Wow, you sound like Hermione coming out with all this stuff," Ron mumbled. "Have you just been studying and stuff?"

"Occlumency?" Snape questioned simultaneously, eyes widening barely perceptively. "The Dark Lord told you about Occlumency?"

"Not exactly. But he has a lot of books around his house," Harry replied to the Potion's Master. "Some of them are really creepy." He shuddered a bit. "And yeah...I've been studying," he rubbed the back of his head, sheepishly, feeling uncomfortable. By now, he knew better than to even dream of mentioning Dark Arts and Tom's perspective on them. It was like trying to argue for muggle rights with Riddle, he just hit a brick wall.

He really didn't want to talk about Tom anymore.

"...can we go back to chess and exploding snap now?" he asked quietly, shoulders only hunching further.

"Or we could play Quidditch in the garden," Ron offered, watching him, giving him a smile, even if it wasn't quite as bright as normal. "Must have been a while since you last flew."

"We have your Nimbus for you," Fred - or was it George? - added. "Just keeping it safe."

Harry bounded to his feet, immediately feeling happier and lighter...even if he carefully neglected to mention Malfoy Manor. That hadn't been proper flying anyway, he'd been too preoccupied, and ten minutes wasn't enough. He felt a grin spread across his face and he, Ron and the twins headed towards the door.

"-one more thing, Harry," Dumbledore requested, softly. "Then you can go and play with your friends, I'm sorry to impose on your free time like this."

Harry ground to a reluctant halt, a bad feeling in his gut.
"Professor?" he questioned.

The man handed him a letter.
"Give that to Tom, please and...has he been teaching you the Dark Arts at all?"

Harry's shoulders stiffened a little.
"How could he when I don't have a wand?" he asked, even though that really didn't answer anything at all. Most of their expressions cleared, assuming that meant a resounding no. Snape's expression didn't change, gaze piercing into his skin, and Dumbledore remained neutral.

He went to go play Quidditch.

Harry arrived back at Snape's house with maybe a minute to spare.
After the first part, things had smoothened out - but maybe that was because unlike personalities and words, Quidditch never changed.

It still had been a bit of a downer that Hermione wasn't there though, he'd thought she may be able to unravel the knots he'd managed to twist himself into. She was good with feelings and all that stuff, wasn't she? And he couldn't feel she was okay until he'd seen for himself.

It seemed an age since he'd seen her.
Seeing Ron had been great though; his best friend was more subdued than before, but the relief with which they saw each other again was...touching. And the other had asked him if he was 'really okay', and he could tell Ron, and the twins, meant it when they asked him.

In the end he'd said he was 'managing', because he felt bad lying when they looked at him so earnestly.

It was...okay. He supposed he shouldn't have expected it to be better than that.
Riddle arrived at 7 O clock on the dot, and he was handed over again.

There had been a kid near Privet Drive, called Ben, who'd parents got divorced and they ended up having joint custody over him. He suddenly felt like Ben - or, at least, how he imagined Ben felt, when he was passed around.

He'd never figured out if they loved Ben so much that they both really wanted him, or if they didn't care enough and so kept swapping.

He felt Riddle's gaze sweep over him, and said nothing, merely walking over calmly.
"Same time tomorrow I assume," Tom said to Snape.

He had the next three days, for his three days this week, with the Light Side.

He wondered if Riddle was trying to be nice with that, in his own way, or if he was just shoving Harry there because he was planning something evil, or because he was trying to overwhelm him somehow to make sure he didn't want to go back by emphasising the differences.

He wouldn't let it work, either way.
Soon, he was back on shockingly-familiar ground, back in the house.

He missed flying and the wind in his hair already, and the company of his friends...but in a way, he couldn't help but uncomfortably note that he wasn't uneasy here either.

It was different, and he didn't like feeling trapped...but nothing in particular seemed to be expecting from him. Riddle had already seen him screaming at him, trashing the room, swearing, generally on bad behaviour already.

There was pressure...but it was different. He'd yet to figure out what the difference was, but his gut was churning again and thoughts on acceptance drifted intangibly at the edge of his thoughts.

"Good day?" Tom questioned, lightly.

"Yes," Harry said, determinedly, because he wouldn't give the Dark Lord the satisfaction of it being anything but. "It was great. We played Quidditch."

"I can just feel your IQ dropping," Riddle said dryly. Harry's jaw clenched mutinously.

"Just because you're probably crap at flying, doesn't make it stupid," he replied. "It just means you suck at it."

"I'm going to presume suck in this case is a slang for being bad at something," Tom stated. "Except that can't be right, because I'm flawless, and thus, I suck at nothing."

Harry figured he was joking, but wasn't entirely sure - the Slytherin was probably narcissistic enough to say that honestly.

"Oh I don't know, you spend a ridiculous time in the bathroom and on your appearance. I'm pretty sure you would suck at something."

Tom blinked, staring at several long moments.
"...are you implying that you think I'm homosexual?"

Harry just smirked, hoping to rile the other up, though in all honesty he didn't know.
"Funny how you would leap to that conclusion. Defensive?"

"Says the twelve year old," Riddle returned, raising his brows. "Yes, I'm sure you know so much about it when your own sexuality is non existent."

Harry's nose wrinkled, and Riddle seemed to be trying not to roll his eyes.

"I'm not gay, Potter," the other stated. "You're thinking of Dumbledore."
Harry spluttered. He didn't actually want to talk about this, and the name gave him the perfect distraction.

"Oh. Yeah, he told me to give you this." He handed the letter open, and vowed, just as it was best he kept Tom out the conversation with his friends and Dumbledore, to not bring up the Light Side with Tom, or any conversations he had there. "It's enquiring about my attending Hogwarts when the summer ends."

Riddle raised his brow.
"It's rude to read other people's mail."

"I'm not an owl. Besides, it's about me. You can't tell me that you expected me not to read it, even if Dumbledore did."

"Hmm, Dumbledore still seems to be under the impression you're capable of obedience for obedience's sake. And what if the letter had a tracking charm and you bought it here?"

"Not everyone is as dishonourable as you," Harry bit out. He could feel his Quidditch-fuelled good mood sagging again, and he hated it, because nothing should have been able to ruin the day too much. And there had been no mention of Ginny, and he hadn't known how to approach the topic and it was all just bundled...

Here, he was cut off from the world and it was often lonely...but he also wasn't required to deal with the tricky bits, shielded from it in a way. He didn't know.

"I'd have thought you would be happier after seeing your friends again," Tom murmured, and maybe something about the words riled him up.

"I thought I'd be happier too," he stated. "Did you know it would be...weird, when you agreed to the deal? I think you did."

"People change. I speculated," Riddle said honestly. "It was still your request though, I certainly didn't turn you loose on them. So what did they do?" The other grinned all too sharply. "Did you defend me?"

Harry's fists clenched furiously.
"As if I would, you're an insufferable git."

Tom's head tilted to the other side, and he looked far too curious for Harry's liking. Thankfully, he didn't say anything further on the matter.

"How's Ginny?"

Harry blinked, shoulders stiffening, bile clawing up his throat.
"What do you mean how's Ginny? You killed her!"

"Did I really?" Tom returned lightly. Harry's brow furrowed.
"...yeah. She was /dying/, I saw her!"

"Did you see her die? She's still around...indisposed, but...conscious."
Harry noted the odd wording, an uneasy feeling in his gut. Why would Tom say conscious and not alive?

"Tom-" he began.

"I'm hungry, are you cooking dinner or am I?"

"Tom-"

"You can cook, I'm curious to see if you're actually any good. You eye up my kitchen utensils enough. Don't bother stealing the knives, I have them counted. Call me when it's done, I still have stuff to take care of. And feed Sirius."

And Riddle promptly walked upstairs.
Harry honestly couldn't decide if Dumbledore was more infuriating with his secrets and plans, or if Tom was. He glowered at the ceiling.

"...he's called Timmy," he muttered darkly, even though he knew Riddle couldn't hear. The dog whined, staring at him, with sad eyes. Harry sighed, tugging a hand through his hair, squatting down and ruffling Sir-Timmy's fur. "I wish you could talk. Reckon you'd have any advice?"

The dog whined again, placing two paws on his knees and semi-headbutting/nudging him in the shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah I think I should spike Tom's shampoo so he has to rule the Death Eaters with pink hair too," Harry said solemnly, making up the conversation. "Great idea. Hermione wouldn't approve though. But I'm hungry, so food first..has Tom brought you dog food yet?"

Then he remembered Timmy couldn't reply, and sighed again, getting up and heading to the kitchen.

It was just as well he actually liked cooking. It calmed him down.
Tomorrow he'd look into the Ginny thing. And trying to see Hermione.

...this would work out. He knew it would.
It had to.

A/N: Yes, I know my chapters should be longer and more offically...but what can you do. Hope you enjoyed this anyway :) Tom's plan is still coming up soon :P Just in case you're curious. Thanks for the reviews. Sorry about my insane updating. I know many of you prefer Past's Player...but hey, I like Solace ;)