Given the fact that one could make a fairly solid argument for the opinion that he actually lived in the Hospital Wing rather than in Gryffindor Tower with the rest of his House Harry knew to expect that Madam Pomfrey would have at least some small comment to make in regards to his inevitable return and the Mediwitch did not disappoint.

She looked up when the doors squeaked open and huffed softly at the sight of him, straightening her blindingly white apron. "Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said rather tartly, "I'd begun to wonder when I'd see you again. It's been almost an entire year spent without a visit to me, which must be some sort of record, though I'm sure that a great deal of credit for that is owed to the fact that you've spent much of that year half a continent away."

"Good evening, Madam Pomfrey." He said, leaning into Tom for comfort. The dark brunet said nothing but squeezed his shoulders comfortingly.

"Well," she said, turning her gaze to Tom, "what happened to him this time? It's a bit late at night for any Quidditch related injuries to be occurring."

"He ran afoul of a bit of joke supplies from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes which I have reason to suspect was set out by a disgruntled admirer of his and aimed at me." Tom said as he followed him over to the nearest unoccupied cot. "I really do apologize for disturbing you, Ma'am, as from what I can see the cuts are minor and something that I could have easily taken care of myself and, as far as I understand it, the black eye can't be removed without a specific cream. But the reason that I felt the need to take him up here anyway is because I've a minor concern that I possibly could have missed a less obvious injury which could potentially result in his vision worsening."

"I'll have a look, then." The Medi-witch said, stepping up to him. "Glasses off, please."

Harry pulled his glasses from his face and set them on the thin cot beside him. Madam Pomfrey examined his face critically, taking in the blue-black bruise which ringed his eye and the thin cut which had dribbled blood down over the curve of his cheek.

"How's your vision, Mr. Potter?"

"As terrible as always, Madam Pomfrey."

"Very well, you seem to be fine. If you noticed that anything has changed in the near future you both know where to find me."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey."

A swift flourish of her wand sealed the small cut under his eye, vanished the blood which had dried onto his skin and reduced a bit of the swelling but the livid bruise remained stubbornly in place.

"That seems to be the best that I can do for you. I certainly hope that one of you, or at the very least someone that one of you knows, is able to provide you with that cream you made mention of earlier. Because, otherwise, you'll have that for a while."

"We do."

"I certainly hope that she has some left." Tom ran a nervous hand through his dark hair, leaving the formerly neat strands sticking up in all directions. "If she ran out and you do wind up stuck with that until we can get the twins to send us more it's certainly not going to help dispel the rumor that I've been beating you."

"I'm sure that she does, Tom." Harry put his glasses back on and stood up. "Fred and George gave her a big tin of it and she can't possibly have used it all; they said it would get rid of the bruise within an hour." He turned his head to address the Mediwitch again. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey."

"Come on, Precious," Tom offered him his hand, "it's getting close to curfew. We should be heading back to the common room so that Filch won't go after us like he did Draco."

They left the Hospital Wing behind and made their way back towards the common room. Halfway there they ran into Neville who looked shocked and slightly guilty at the sight of the black eye the raven sported.

"Harry, w-what happened to your face?" He wasn't able to look either of them in the eye.

"It's just a bruise, Neville. It doesn't even really hurt that much anymore." Harry assured him. "It looks a lot worse than it actually is."

"He was on the receiving end of a punching telescope which, through some mysterious means, managed to find its way into Professor Slughorn's office. Interrupted a rather important matter of discussion s well; the evil thing had the worst timing possible." Tom barked the password at the Fat Lady; portrait hole after him. "I have a suspect in mind, and though I've no proof and can do little more than talk to them it is my full intention to do so. A warning may just sort them out before things wind up getting…messy."

"Contain yourself, Tom."

"Don't fret, Precious. I know that we're in public. I'll be cordial. Polite. Firm." He promised. "There's Hermoine. Let's focus on getting rid of that nasty bruise on your face."

Leaving Neville to do with himself as he pleased without a second thought spared to him Tom led Harry over to where Ron and Hermoine were sitting.

"Bloody hell, Harry!"

"What happened to you!"

"The telescope punched him, not me." The dark brunet informed them both dryly. "Would you happen to still have any of that bruise removing cream left? I already took him to Madam Pomfrey and, well…"

"Yes, I have a great deal of it left: the bruise from the demented telescope disappeared within an hour after only one application. It's in my trunk, I'll go and get it right away." Hermoine immediately dropped what she was doing and got up from where she was sitting, but before she could head for the dormitory stairs Tom called her back.

"Ms. Granger," he said softly, "if Ginerva is up in her dorm, could you…kindly request that she come down here so that she and I can have…a word?"

"I'll be back down as soon as I can."

"You two really think that Ginny is behind this?" Ron asked them as Hermoine hurried away. "I mean, a lot of people who go to Hogwarts have bought stuff from Fred and George: Weasley's Wizard Wheezes is more popular than Zonko's!"

"A lot of people who go to Hogwarts and patronize the twins' joke store have a problem with Tom and I being in a relationship, do they?"

"Well…no, I suppose not." He conceded, then brightened quickly. "Maybe it was Malfoy."

"You really think Fred and George would even allow the likes of Draco Malfoy into their store?"

"I doubt that Ginny would target you though, mate."

"She wasn't. That telescope was meant for me: I've complete confidence of that much." Tom said dryly as Hermoine returned, a metal tin clutched in one hand and a rather displeased looking Ginny following behind.

"Here, just a few dabs of this and that bruise will be gone by the time you head to bed."

"Thank you, Hermoine." Harry said gratefully, reaching for the tin, but before he could reach it Tom had taken it from her hand. "Tom-!"

"Hush, Precious. I'll do it."

"He's not a child and doesn't need anyone, especially you, to take care of him!"

The metal creaked softly under the force of his suddenly white-knuckled grip. Ron moved as if to get up and put himself between them and Harry grabbed Tom's wrist to prevent him from pulling his wand. Ginny stared the dark brunet down as he bared his teeth at her.

"Naughty children," he hissed mutinously, "will sit quietly until they are addressed by their better elders! You will sit and you will wait until I am ready to deal with you!"

Without bothering to insure that she did as she was told he dropped to his knees in front of Harry and unscrewed the lid of the tin. "Glasses."

"Tom, really, I can do it."

"I know you can. Unlike you, love, I have no sight problems and can clearly see that you're still possessed of both your hands." Though his voice had warmed over, the sharp edge was still plainly there. "Having said that, we've been over this. In sickness and in health."

"I'm hurt not sick, Tom."

"Same difference, pet." He swiped two fingers through the thick yellow paste inside of the tin. "Now, please take off your glasses and close your eyes."

Giving up arguing with the taller male for lost, Harry removed his glasses with a sigh and did as he was told. After warming the ointment between his hands, Tom applied it to his face with a gentle touch.

"There, Precious," he got back to his feet and pressed a brief kiss to his forehead before straightening up. "Now, to deal with…other much less pleasant things." His eyes fell on Ginny in a cutting gaze; she glowered up at him from the armchair that she'd seated herself in. "Up. You will stand when I address you."

"You can address me just fine like this, 'Gaunt'." Tom's eyes narrowed to slits and Ginny jumped up with a yelp. "You bloody bastard!"

"I can and will do much worse than a mild Stinging Hex if you continue this. I am not a man to be prodded and I am not in the mood for the games of petty children." He warned her in an icy voice. "Harry and I have only good reason to suspect you and no proof to make it clear that you are, in fact, responsible for what's happening but allow me to be thorough and provide you with a warning in the perhaps futile hope that you will get this through your head before I'm forced to hurt you! Spread rumors all you bloody want. Throw everything on the shelves of your brother's Joke Store at me. Slander me. Stalk me. Do whatever the bloody hell you want to me because I can take it! I don't care! But let me make one thing pointedly, candidly and stringently clear to you. The next time that Harry is the one who winds up suffering because of it you and I, Ginerva, will have a real problem. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal."

"I'm glad that we understand each other." He stepped back from her just as Nagini slithered back into the common room. "I'm done with you."

"You think that you can just dismiss me? You're not a teacher or a Prefect and even if you were you woouldn't have the power to dismiss me from the common room of my own House!"

"Ginny!" Both looked over at Harry as Nagini crawled up his leg and onto the couch, the bruise on his face already beginning to fade. "Go. You've done enough."

She stared at him, looking incredibly betrayed, then rounded on her heel and fled up the stairs.

"Tom." When the dark brunet didn't immediately react he tried again. "Tom!" Assured that he finally had the other's attention Harry tugged him over towards the couch. "Come and sit down before you completely lose your temper. Besides, Nagini is back."

"You're right, Precious. I've slipped enough as it is, I suppose." Somewhat reluctantly he allowed himself to be pulled down onto the couch beside him. "Had the venue been any less public…"

"I am gone for less than an hour," Nagini hissed, coiling herself across their laps, "and I come back to find your face swelling up and Master getting ready to fight to the death to defend his position as your rightful mate. What happened?"

"A misaimed bit of joke supplies. We can hope that my warning will at least frighten her off for a while." Tom told her, loosening his collar. "What have you found, Nagini?"

"The Little Dragon and the Dungeon Bat are plotting something. Or, at least, are on the same side." She said. "He dragged him out into the hallway and forced him into a conversation that the Little Dragon clearly didn't want to have any part of. They spoke of things which were incriminating but disjointed and confusing."

"Like what?" Harry asked, well aware of the weight of both Ron and Hermoine's eyes resting on him. Nagini stared at him for a brief moment before answering, the firelight flickering in her amber gaze. "The Dungeon Bat said that he had sworn to protect him. That he had made the Unbreakable Vow. But the Little Dragon refused. Said he didn't need his help. Didn't need his protection. That he'd been…chosen."

"Chosen?" Tom repeated.

"Nagini, what exactly did Draco say?"

"'I don't need your protection! I was chosen for this: out of all others, me! And I won't fail him." Her tongue flicker out to briefly taste the air. "The Dungeon Bat taunted him, said that he was afraid-he was, I could taste it even from where I was hiding-and insisted that he be allowed to assist him. But the Little Dragon is insistent that he will have his moment."

"Well," Tom switched back to English for the benefit of their two companions, "if that doesn't sound bloody suspicious, then I don't know what would."

"What did she say?"

"Yeah, Harry, what did she say? The two of you can't just suddenly switch to Parseltongue then say something like that and not tell us, mate!"

"I don't know if you were there at the time or if you saw it, Hermoine, but Filch hauled Draco into the Dungeons in the middle of the party only for Snape to appear and drag him right back out again." Harry said. "They were acting suspicious at the time, so Tom sent Nagini to follow them and listen in on whatever conversation that they were having."

"And what did she find out?"

"Snape swore to protect Malfoy." He told them. "He made something called an 'Unbreakable Vow'."

"An Unbreakable Vow?" Ron repeated, wide eyed. "Bloody hell!"

"Why?" Harry asked, gaze instantly focusing in on his friend. "What does that mean? Is it bad?"

"Not necessarily, it's just…" the red head shrugged. "It's a really serious thing to do. You can't break an Unbreakable Vow."

"…" Tom dissolved into a fit of reluctant sniggering as the raven stared at his friend, utterly in sensed. "Thanks, Ron, but I managed to figure out that much on my own. Surprisingly enough."

"Syntax," the dark brunet snorted, "brilliant!"

"I don't see how it's so suspicious that Professor Snape would make an Unbreakable Vow to protect Draco." Hermoine said, steering the conversation back on track before it could get too far off the rails. "After all, the world seems to become more and more dangerous with every passing moment. And he is his Godfather."

"That wasn't the part that made it suspicious, Ms. Granger." Tom told her. "He made a reference to being 'chosen' for some sort of task 'out of all others' and stated that 'he trusts me'." His chuckle was now much darker than before. "Voldemort doesn't trust anyone but himself."

"We have no way of knowing that it's Voldemort that assigned him the task. Whatever it is." But there was no conviction in her voice.

"Hope for the best but assume the worst: the wisest course of action in times like these." Tom said, getting back to his feet and stretching his back. "I'm going to go change out of these gaudy clothes and run an errand. Mind if I borrow your cloak, Precious?"

"Just make sure to put it back, Tom."

"Always." He promised, turning to head for the stairs, "I suppose I'll see the three of you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Tom."

The fifth stair creaked loudly under his foot as he scaled the staircase and he made a mental note to avoid it on his way back down. Reaching the proper dorm he quickly crossed to his bed and, after once more exchanging wands, opened Harry's trunk and located the invisibility cloak.

It had taken longer than he'd hoped it would to accumulate a month's worth of time-as certain priority things weren't as possible as he'd have liked them to be when one had a Mandrake Leaf folded up under their tongue and he had an admitted control problem around Harry-but as of that night he'd finally managed to reach the stated quota of both the herbal burden and the needed meditation and wasn't about to allow himself to deal with the accursed thing for a single moment more.

With the list of ingredients necessary for the potion which marked the final step of the process in mind, Tom threw the cloak over his shoulders and disappeared from sight.