Summary: Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

Rating: M. For a reason folks.

Characters: Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

Warnings: Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

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I never meant to make you feel this way, I never thought I could feel condemned

I feel exposed, I feel disgraced, I feel a whole new kind of hate

Someone please tell me what I am supposed to do

Oh! I can feel your fire now, it's why I'm breaking down

It's what I aim for, what I bleed for

I can change

"Two of those."

"Yes I heard you, you goddamned megalomaniac."

Ron ignored the shiver clawing through him at the sound of Riddle's laugh.

"Gently now. Every one. Quickly."

The Gryffindor mockingly mouthed the older boy's words, irritated and frightened and unable to relieve himself of the feeling of being prey trapped in a small space with a predator.

"Done."

Riddle placed an armful of potions in the ever-expanding bag, then swing it over his shoulder carefully. "Me as well. Come along." He was shoved unceremoniously toward the door.

"You know, someone's therapist know's all about you."

Riddle shot him a feral grin.

Ron decided an hour ago, in whichever time around they were in then, that he'd never complain about anything again as long as he lived. Riddle was a terrifying task-master with smooth, slick orders you found yourself following before you could process what he'd even said. Several time Ron stopped what he was doing and shook his head, trying to remember which circuit through they were and what he was doing. Riddle had a plan, and it was absolutely insane if anyone was asking Ron's opinion, however it was his own fault entirely. He would never make another joke around Tom Riddle again.

"There has to be a way to make this work."

"Well," said Ron, "We do have all the time in the world."

Merlin was he tempted to grab the time turner from Riddle and go back and stab himself before he could utter those words. As it was, he lost count how many times he had lived this day and how many of himself was currently running around the castle. Some of him were researching in the library, some of him were following people, some of him were stealing things like the potions from the infirmary or Snape's ingredients, some of him were making potions and some of him were casting spells.

All in an intricate dance choreographed by Riddle.

They ran through the halls to the room of requirement, ignoring the objects inside seemingly moving by themselves. In order to by pass the potentially harmful effects of seeing their past or future selves, event hough they knew they would be running around, Riddle turned them both invisible each time. Tripping over things that weren't there and hearing voices with no bodies attached was no longer something in the minds of mad men.

Or it might be. Ron was still undecided. This might all be a ridiculous dreamed he'd waken from and never remember. One could hope.

He and Riddle stacked the potions in the provide slots along the right hand wall, making certain each was in it's assigned place. Behind them some of the potions lifted themselves up and floated across the room to various cauldrons situated throughout the area. Riddle turned to him and once more Ron was struck by the sheer brilliance of the boy before him. A spell created in his fourth year to allow the caster to turn up to a dozen people invisible to all but others cast with the same spell. Genius. And potentially harmful if he taught it to his future Death Eaters. But that was a horrifying thought for another day.

"Runes and basic set up for the rituals next." Riddle ordered, because he never really requested anything even if it sounded that way.

Ron took a breath, cracked his neck and nodded. Six pepper-ups later and he was working at impossible speeds. He had so much energy he thought his bones make shake out of his body. Riddle found this amusing. Bastard.

"Good, and along the edges here. Yes and here. They mustn't be seen at first glance, everything needs to appear utterly ordinary."

Ron waved his hand at the boy over his shoulder, carving along the side of a table. He was already finished with some chairs, some lanterns, and small nick nacks. He was beyond asking questions at this point, his body going on autopilot.

He finished the last rune and a small bell chimed.

Riddle, who had of course finished before Ron, pulled him close, threw the chain about them and twisted. The sensation no longer seemed strange to him, in fact he wasn't sure how he'd handle living life normally after this. Do-overs were marvelous.

He followed Riddle through the halls and waited with him as first Dumbldore went up to his office followed sometime later by Ginny, who knew the password, and then Hermione and himself. He choked on his spit when Riddle complimented his spellwork. The piece of himself that was flattered and smug at the comment needed to die a vicious death.

They waited, having already gone over this overheated conversation when Riddle entered his mind and riffled through his memories until he found it. Ron hadn't felt so violated in all his life. Finally Hermione and Ron ran down the stairs and through the hall. A few minutes later both Ginny and Dumbledore were there, speaking to one another in low tones.

"It will be fine, do not worry. The greater good is precious, it is the sustainment and foundation of the future. We can not be weak when harsh choices must be made or others will make then for us. It is in dark times that we must look to our neighbors-"

"If he says 'we're all in this together' I'm going to vomit." Whispered Riddle.

Ron slapped a hand over his mouth to hide his grin.

The moment they turned away from them Riddle grabbed hold of him and bounded up the stairs before the gargoyle leaped back into place. He was shoved into a chair, a pile of Dumbledore's books plopped in front of him along with another pepper up.

"Read."

Ron let out a low growl that might have been half whine and pulled the first book to him, flipping it open.

How many times had he relieved this day? How long had it been since he'd slept? Since he'd eaten? Ron couldn't remember. He didn't know when his grudging respect for Riddle had started or when his hands became numb to paper cuts and spilled poisons and nicks from ceremonial knives. Body moving and doing as commanded, memorizing information Riddle demanded at any time, picking things up, shrinking things down, stirring and pouring and cutting and gathering and looking. His hand shook when he flipped another page. Irritation flickered across his face and he willed himself stronger. Harry nearly got himself killed each year for a world that couldn't make up its mind about him, the least Ron could do was bear a bit of the burden for him. He shouldn't have to go to everyone's rescue...it was time someone came to his.

It hit him hard when he realized he could have helped Harry before now, if he'd known what was going on, if he'd allowed himself to stay among Harry's social circle. It was his fault so much of Gryffindor turned on the smaller boy, it was his fault his once best friend had felt so isolated he'd gone to Tom Riddle of all people. It hurt even more when he realized that the future Dark Lord was better at taking care of Harry than he ever was.

A clatter had Ron and Riddle freezing, looking toward the door. Three students stood there.

"Dude why is the book levitating?"

"I have no idea."

"What did you call me?"

"What?"

"What did you call me?'

"I didn't call you anything."

"Yes you did-"

The taller, darker skinned one smacked both of the shorter ones upside the back of their heads.

"Idiots."

Riddle looked at Ron. "Know them?"

"Unfortunately."

The was, apparently, a glimmering review of one's usefulness to Riddle's ears because he flicked his wand at the three of them.

"Oh you were invisible." Said Nott. Zabini smacked him again.

"Assault!"

"You," said Riddle, "are going to explain yourselves. Now."

The three of them straightened up, catching that predatory, low tone to Riddle's voice. The same sound Tabbris and Ambriel had to their voices, that reminded you they were dangerous.

"I'm Zabini, this is Nott and Finnegan. We saw you two," he nodded at Ron, "disappear when we came out of the great hall. Then we saw him and Granger running by not a minute later. We followed them, we thought they were going to the astronomy tower but they went down to a part of the castle I've never been to. We," he paused and licked his lips, "we heard what Potter said. We want to help, whatever is going on we want to help."

Riddle raised a brow. "What did Harry say?" Ron winced, he didn't think Harry meant for everyone and their cousin to over hear that.

"Er, we need to get to work..."

Riddle glanced at him back the boys then shrugged, "The more the merrier." Another flick of his wands and the other boys found themselves seated with books in their laps.

Ron looked around the room dominated by Slytherins, three to two, one being Voldemort, and the piles of books in front of him.

"So this is what Hell is like," he muttered, "Lovely to get a heads up."