As much as Potter wants to dislike Tom, he quickly finds that the diary was the best Christmas present that he could have realistically received. Ron had given him a book about Quidditch, Mrs. Weasley had sent him another sweater with plum cake, and even Draco had left him a small bauble of some sort (Potter wasn't quite sure what it did yet, but he got the feeling that it was rather expensive), but with most of the students still waiting for the next small scale war to break out, he found that having a friend to talk to was more useful than anything else could have been. Besides, Harry seems to have taken an interest in it, even if he won't talk to Tom himself, and anything that helps Harry even a bit is heaven sent as far as Potter's concerned.

For his part, Tom seems to have warmed up a bit after their first interaction. Potter supposes that it must have been rather strange for him to find himself fifty years in the future and having to relate the details of a murder to a perfect stranger. Now that they're starting their relationship over in a more normal manner, the other boy seems far more relaxed. Sure, there's still something a bit off about him, but Potter knows that his own host is awkward enough that he's in no place to talk.

And so, day after day, he finds himself back in his dorms and writing back and forth with the diary. It's a bit of an inconvenient way to communicate as it does cause his hand to cramp rather quickly, but it beats the lonely silence that he's sure he would be living with otherwise. Besides, Tom's been promising to try and find out if he could take them to a fantasy, this time, instead of a memory, and while Potter isn't sure that he likes the idea of slipping into Riddle's mind again, if it means that they could actually interact in person for once, he doubts that he'll turn the offer down.

In this way, the break passes quickly, and before Potter knows it, school has resumed. To his intense surprise, he's almost happy to see Draco again, especially when Draco seems pleased with the Slytherin themed quill set that he sent him. Potter's not as thrilled about resuming classes, but while some teachers are still prone to glaring at him when they think that he's not looking, most of them seem to have calmed into pity, instead. It's still unnerving and painful, but the other students are less likely to pick up on the meaning behind it, so Potter supposes that he'll just have to get used to it.

As for the other students themselves, the tension seems to have died down. Those who went home for the holidays returned to Hogwarts rejuvenated, and without any recent attacks to speak of, there's no real reason for anyone to be attacking anyone else anymore. It's not much, but it's enough to allow Potter to begin to relax a bit. He allows himself to enter a conversation with Draco as they walk to Herbology together, and the system's even relaxed enough to let Lily start to peek out again.

"Harry!" they hear. Draco pauses mid-sentence, and Potter turns around to see Blaise jogging up to them, small package resting in his hand. "Here," Blaise offers. "I meant to mail it to you over break, but I decided last moment that I'd rather give it you in person. I hope you don't mind."

Draco watches curiously as Potter, after eyeing Blaise to make sure that it's okay, carefully removes the wrapping and opens the box. He's glad that his first instinct is to tighten his grip, for he's sure that he'd have dropped it otherwise. Inside rests a small snitch, but it looks old. He looks at Blaise questioningly, and his friend clarifies, "it was used back when your dad was at school. Just don't tell anyone; they didn't realize that my dad was the one who nabbed it in the first place!"

"Your parents won't mind this?" Potter questions even as he finds himself reaching out to stroke the snitch's wings. Blaise laughs.

"No, they won't. It's not like it'd be much use to my dad anymore… Besides, mom's so glad to hear that I'm socializing that it's painful."

"Thank you," Potter manages to whisper past the lump in his throat. Forcing himself to meet Blaise's eyes, he repeats his gratitude, pleased by the happy smirk that rests on their friend's mouth.

"Don't mention it," Blaise says. "I really liked your green thumb charm, by the way. Nice and hidden. I may actually pass Herbology now!" Inside, Lily's nearly dying with happiness. The gift was her idea, of course.

After exchanging a few pleasantries, Blaise leaves to care for his mandrake, and Potter turns back to Draco. He's amused to note that Draco looks more than a little jealous, though over the fact that he received only a book on potions and a chocolate frog or that his own present paled in comparison, Potter can't tell. Either way, his own mood is greatly elevated by the time that he leaves the greenhouse.

When he finds his location abruptly changing from the hallways of Hogwarts to his dorm (robes missing, no less), he's almost surprised that he's not covered in blood, as well. After all, it's not like the universe ever likes to let him stay happy for too long! God forbid he ever start to feel like things might turn out alright.

He's so fed up that he's ready to just go to bed and stay there until he rots, but he realizes that it must be around dinner time, and when Draco returns, he's going to want some kind of explanation for where he was. He really should just go down and eat no matter how little he wants to deal with anyone else at the moment…

Miss me? he writes to Tom, laughing to himself that nothing makes talking to Tom more appealing than the realization that he should be doing something unpleasant instead.

Tom's reply is quick. Yes. I have nothing to do when you leave, and you haven't written to me in a few days.

Sorry, Potter writes, I was busy with school work. Internally, he's wracking his memory, wondering when he last wrote to Tom. It was a few days ago, right? He only missed a few hours, right?

Are you still here?

Sorry. I was distracted.

Yes, I noticed, Tom writes. Potter doesn't respond. Now that he's actually talking to Tom, he's aware of just how strongly he'd prefer to be alone. Apparently, even dealing with one overly awkward student is too much right now. Maybe he should just say that Draco returned, or something, and make his exit.

Is something wrong?

Potter fiddles with his quill, unsure how to respond. Is it really worth it to make up a lie? Surely, it couldn't hurt if he told Tom a little bit of what's going on right now. If nothing else, it should be interesting to see how he'll react.

I can't remember how I got into my room.

Pardon? Tom asks, and Potter notes that they're back to overly formal language. Fine, then.

Last I remember, I was walking in the halls after Herbology. I blacked out.

That does sound rather disconcerting, but I'm certain it must be a result of stress. I'm sure that it's nothing to worry about.

Potter rolls his eyes. Really? Nothing to worry about? He can't tell if Tom is just humoring him or if he he's as reluctant as everyone else is to acknowledge Potter's abnormalities. Spurred by a sudden desire to prove that it's not normal, that he's not normal, Potter writes, This is has been happening for years, Tom. It's just the recent frequency that's unnerving me.

This time, it's Tom who takes a while to reply. His answer is simple. What?

Like you said, I'm sure that it's not a big deal. I'm sure that there are plenty of things that could be causing it.

Potter was sure that his answer would annoy Tom, but if it does, Tom doesn't show it. He replies, What kinds of things cause you to black out?

Stress, really. It's not a big deal. You said so yourself.

There's a bit of a difference between blacking out once and losing time over the course of years! Is there any pattern to the black outs? What usually happens while you're gone?

I don't know? I'm not exactly there to witness it. Potter considers telling Tom that sometimes, he is there to see his body acting outside of his control, but he figures that that might be a bit cruel. Playing innocent has never been his thing, anyway, so he adds, I don't think that anything really bad happens, though. I'm only worried now because one or two of the blackouts coincided with the attacks. On the other hand, this year has been incredibly stressful for me. Like I said before, the other students blame me, and wouldn't that be reason enough for my memory to begin failing me?

That can't be it, Tom argues. No, that's…

Since when are you the expert on blackouts? Potter's beginning to feel uneasy about this. On the other hand, Tom's nothing more than a memory trapped in a diary. What could he really do to hurt Potter? If he needs to get rid of Tom, he'll just make sure to do something more permanent than discard the diary in the loo. Fire is always a nice option, or perhaps wizards have a version of the muggle paper shredder.

Look, he writes, sorry for even bringing it up. I already know what's causing the blackouts, and it wasn't fair of me to pretend like I didn't. Like I said, it's just the timing that has me out of whack. It's honestly nothing to worry about.

This time, the response is immediate. What is causing them, then? Silence. ... goddamnit, Potter!

Maybe it's the muggle swear that does it, or maybe it's just the pull to talk to someone else who could understand the desire to avoid their "home" at all costs, but when Potter places his quill to the paper, he finds himself telling the truth. I have… Look, this is going to sound insane. I know that it will. But I have multiple personalities. They're not spirits, they're not just moods, and they're not evil. Some of us can even talk to each other, and it's not like I'm blacking out all of the time. It's just that occasionally, something bad happens, and then an alter takes the memories of it. I think that this time, it's just that someone new doesn't know how to be here at the same time as the rest of us, yet. Really, it's not a big deal as long as they really aren't the one behind the attacks and… well, I just have to have faith that none of us would do something like that. The alters themselves, it's just a response to trauma. We survived a few things while we younger that we couldn't have been able to handle if we had to deal with all of it at once. Our mind broke instead, and each of us have our own memories and perspectives of what happened. Some of us remained that, little more than memory holders, but some of us are our own people… now might be a good time to mention that I'm an alter, as well. I go by Potter, if you don't mind.

The ink fades, and Tom doesn't reply. Potter begins to wonder if even a fifty year old book with no one else to talk to would rather reject him than deal with his freakishness. He reminds himself to stay calm. Of course Tom isn't taking this well. Even the muggles didn't know much about MPD 50 years ago, so how strange must this sound to a wizard? He must think that Potter's possessed!

Still, it stings a bit. Potter's about to put the diary away when he notices a small response.

I'm sorry to hear that.

Frustrated, Potter shoves the diary into his chest and gets ready for bed. If Draco asks, he'll just say that he's coming down with something. He'll figure out how to deal with judgmental diaries tomorrow.

Yet he doesn't. With the new term beginning, the teachers are back to dumping loads of homework on the students daily, and Potter's too busy to write to Tom. A few days later, Quidditch practice resumes, and he's too tired. It's not until Sunday that he even has a chance to catch his breath, and does he even want to talk to Tom in his only moment of free time?

But eventually, he begins to feel guilty. After all, he's had more than enough time to remember that Tom isn't the best conversationalist in the world. Of course he was awkward when learning that his only friend hears voices in his head! If nothing else, he deserves another chance to prove whether or not he'll be able to react better in the future.

Hey. I'm sorry for not replying for so long, he writes. He considers mentioning how busy he's been, but he's not that blind to himself, and he doubts that Tom would appreciate the hollow gesture either.

It's alright, Tom responds. Potter, correct?

Yeah, Potter writes. He thinks of adding a 'Tom, right?' but thinks better of it. He's left with a lame How have you been? instead.

Bored, is Tom's blunt response. Then, Potter? Can I meet one of the others?

He wasn't expecting this. He supposes that it must be a perfectly normal response to have, and he's honestly surprised that Ron and Hermione weren't keener to meet everyone all at once, but it makes him uneasy. He has to respond now- running again would be beyond rude- but he doesn't—

Oh, knock it off, James interjects, rolling his eyes. Move over. He wants to meet us, he can deal with me.

Potter glares, James glares back, and then James is out and writing to Tom in his customary chicken scratch.

So, heard you wanted to meet one of us, eh?

Who is this?

Name's James. Tom, right?

Yes, that's correct. I believe that Potter is in his second year at Hogwarts, correct? How old are you?

James stares in shock. It had always seemed like common knowledge to him that alters could be different ages, but he didn't know that outsiders would be able to guess that.

I'm 14, he responds, and Potter turned 16 over the summer. Even Harry's 15. We're not just some stupid little second year.

Your core isn't the same age as your body? Is the immediate response.

Bloody hell, you know what a core is?! James ignores Potter groaning in the background, something about using Tom's knowledge to trap him instead of being so blunt and losing future leverage. Merlin, what a snake.

I have access to certain things even from this diary, is Tom's terse reply. I did my research.

Oh, thank Merlin! I was afraid we'd have to explain everything to you, and I was gonna freak. Even Ron and Hermione could do their own research- hell, Hermione did enough research for all of us!

You've told people about this?

Well no duh. It's not exactly the easiest condition in the world to hide, you know? Hermione went and guessed on us because she's bloody brilliant, and then she made us tell Ron, too. I think all the teachers know, but that's because Dumbledore went and blabbered.

Dumbledore knows this?!

Potter notes how messy Tom's handwriting has become. Does it matter? He carefully intervenes while glaring at James for neglecting to mention his own role in telling Ron about their condition.

Forgive me. I simply don't trust Dumbledore.

No one does! James replies, shoving Potter out of the way. But he figured out we were abused and then caught us switching, so…

If James were a separate person, Potter would have thrown the diary at his head. What does he think that he's doing, giving so much away at once?! That's not Gryffindor bravery, it's proof that James isn't even remotely a Ravenclaw.

He caught you… That's not good.

You don't say, James responds, snorting to himself.

How long ago was this? Why do you think that the teachers know? How long have you known about this yourselves?

Potter physically grabs their right hand with his left, instructing James not to respond. James shrugs, acknowledging that he is beginning to feel a bit like a science experiment. Potter, however, feels that it's more than that. He doesn't know why Tom is so interested in this, but it strikes him the wrong way.

I'm sorry, he writes, but we need to go now. Our roommate just returned, and we don't want anyone else to know about this for obvious reasons. I'll talk to you tomorrow.

He closes the diary without waiting for a response.

XXXXX

A/N: I wasn't very fond of the last chapter, so I felt like I owed you this one in a more timely manner (though, to be honest, this isn't the best chapter that I've ever written, either). Besides, I'm itching to get to the next chapter already!

Thanks to all who read, favorited, reviewed, and subscribed.