Harry waited until after nine that evening before calling Tom. That was when Pomfrey turned down the lights in the hospital wing and went to her own quarters. Harry closed his curtains, cast all the privacy charms he knew and activated his mirror.
Tom answered within half a minute, cup of camomile in hand. "How was your day, my dear?"
"Soulmate!" Harry grinned at Tom, his heart soaring while at the same time a sense of calmness came over him, as it usually did whenever he talked to Tom lately. "I've had a weird day. First of all, that nightmare curse you used on the Weasley twins is inspired. I've been admiring it all day."
Tom's small smile morphed into a satisfied grin and he took a bow, almost spilling his tea in the process. "I'm glad to hear it arrived where it was supposed to and has the desired effect."
"Oh, they're suffering, alright," Harry said with an agreeable nod. "Pomfrey had to silence and restrain them."
"Excellent." Tom sipped his camomile with all the satisfaction of a cat that ate about a dozen canaries. "It should last up to three weeks."
"Yeah, that's nice," Harry said while he frowned at Tom. "Except now Dumbledore somehow suspects me of casting that stupid curse."
"Ah." Tom didn't seem at all surprised by this news. "So the old man is up to his usual tricks." At seeing Harry's puzzled expression, he explained further. "Even as far back as my schooldays this was Dumbledore's usual tactic when dealing with Slytherins. It doesn't matter if there is any evidence or not, if there are other suspects or not, if a Slytherin is so much as barely involved in a situation, they must be the guilty party somehow. And no matter what anyone else says or how unlikely it is, Dumbledore will stick to his conviction that the Slytherin is guilty. I knew he still treated Slytherins like this during Severus' time, and it now appears he's still displaying the same prejudiced behaviour."
"In other words, I'm nothing special," Harry said, feeling oddly relieved Dumbledore hadn't somehow figured out Harry was far more powerful than an average eleven-year-old since he was technically eighteen.
"In this you are not, no," Tom said with a teasing glint in his blue eyes. Harry realized he didn't even really notice the changes to Tom's face anymore and accepted his new visage as normal. Probably because he still looked incredibly like Tom Riddle while also possessing plenty of new characteristics. The wizard who had applied that kind of transfiguration had truly done some excellent work.
"Well, that's a relief," Harry said, reaching for the glass of pumpkin juice he'd been saving since dinner, just so he would have something to drink as well. "Of course, having the twins here meant that Mr and Mrs Weasley stopped by."
"How did that go?" Tom asked when Harry didn't continue right away. Mostly because he was sorting through his thoughts when it came to the Weasleys. For the most part, he now accepted that they'd betrayed him, if not actively then passively, and that he'd never been as important to them as they had been to him. But at the same time, they had been his surrogate family for years, and one was his best friend, and another his so far only girlfriend. The Weasleys were unmistakably entwined with Harry's previous life and not so easily erased from Harry's thoughts as he would like.
"It was strange," Harry finally said, and took a sip of his pumpkin juice to occupy his mouth while he tried to find the right words. "They're the closest thing I've ever had to a caring family and when I was eleven I desperately wanted to be a part of their family."
"But you're no longer eleven," Tom said quietly with a considering look.
"No," Harry agreed, staring down at the glass in his hand. "I'm looking at them very differently now and realizing they were never my family, no matter how many handmade jumpers they sent me or how often they invited me over to spend a week or two at their home." Harry couldn't look Tom in the eye while he blurted out, "Besides, my idea of family has changed since I was eleven and all I wanted was parents who cared for me."
"Has it now?" Tom sounded more intrigued than anything else.
Harry finally looked up at him and decided to change the subject because he felt weird confessing to Tom he was Harry's desired family now. "You can't tell me you've never wished for parents when you were young."
Tom inhaled a deep breath, leaning back in his seat a bit. "When I was young, yes, certainly. Every orphaned child longs for a family. I got my hopes shattered, however, after I was brought back one too many times."
"What?" Harry asked stupidly. Tom had been adopted? Was that what he was saying?
Tom lowered his gaze, his smile rigid. "I was an attractive and clever child. Of course I got adopted out a few times. And when I was very young I wanted it to work, to have a family of my own. Anything would be better than that bloody orphanage. But my magic was very strong and active and I had no control over it at first like most children. So inevitable I'd get nervous or scared or a little too excited and my magic would react. And my new parents would freak the fuck out, think me possessed or something equally silly, and return me to the orphanage post-haste. It's one of the reasons I put so much effort into learning to control these strange powers I had, but by the time I had some control the Matron, who was sick of getting me back time after time with stories of demons and devils, had already started to warn people away from me. I was never chosen for adoption again and eventually convinced myself I didn't even want a family."
Harry swallowed against the sudden ache in his chest. Poor Tom, to be rejected every single time for magic he had no control over and didn't even know what it was at that time. The wizarding world really was neglectful when it came to orphans or muggleborns stuck in harmful situations.
"We should add that to the changes we want to make," Harry said, glad to have found a way to take action and solve this problem. "We should make it law that any magical child stuck in an orphanage should be brought into the wizarding world."
Tom's expression went from tight and blank to deeply amused in a second. "Harry, you darling Gryffindor. Wanting to ride to the rescue of all these poor magical orphans stuck in evil Muggle orphanages." Tom chuckled while Harry bristled at being made fun of when he just came up with a workable plan. "You're only a few decades too late, my dear."
"What do you mean, I'm too late?" Harry demanded, sitting up straighter.
"There are no more orphanages in the UK. Children without families are put in foster homes and go up for adoption from there. The closest thing to an orphanage this country still has are residential care homes, but these only take in children with severe disabilities who cannot live at home because of them." Tom looked at him with a huge smile, eyes bright with humour. "So save your dashing self the trouble of trying to rescue the orphans. They're fine. Well, at least they're much better off than they were in my youth."
Harry's mouth was hanging open. "But those fucking Dursleys were always threatening to put me in an orphanage whenever I did anything they didn't like."
"They lied," Tom offered.
"They fucking lied, those fucking bastards." Harry had no idea why it upset him this much to learn he'd been lied to about orphanages, but it did. "All this time I could have been living with a nice foster family or even been adopted by people who actually wanted me? But instead Vernon kept telling me horror stories about orphanages and threatening to throw me into one and like an idiot I believed him and never even considered running away or something."
Tom waited patiently until Harry was done with his impromptu rant on his relatives. "It's rather funny you're so surprised by a lie they told you while they treated you like dirt, starved you and made you sleep in a cupboard."
"I know, okay." Harry threw his hand up in sheer frustration. "It's just, I've been afraid of ending up in an orphanage my entire fucking childhood and now I learn there haven't been any orphanages anymore for decades. Wait, why aren't there orphanages anymore?"
"Because people finally realized raising children in institutions like that leads to many emotional and behavioural problems that follow them into adulthood. Children do best in family settings where they can bond properly with caregivers," Tom explained patiently.
"Huh," Harry said, astounded he'd never heard of this, or had even considered it. "Well, that's good," he finally said, still too flabbergasted to come up with some more compelling conversation. But thinking about orphanages and Tom's childhood did make him remember something else he wanted to mention to his soulmate. "So we can scrap saving magical orphans from the agenda. Can we please add outlaw love potions to it?"
Tom looked at Harry in surprise but it quickly became a pleased smile. "We most certainly can. May I ask what brought this on?"
Shrugging, Harry ducked his head, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious though he wasn't sure why. "Because people get hurt by those bloody things. Look at your parents."
Tom's eyes narrowed a little. Harry had learned since he'd started conversing politely with the Dark Lord that his parents were a very touchy subject even on the best of days.
"And because people send me love potions," Harry quickly added, not wanting to offend Tom or piss him off by singling out his family situation. "In my previous life and this one."
Tom's eyes narrowed even more until they were mere slits and he stared at Harry with intent. "Who are these people that send you love potions? As far as the world knows you're eleven."
"I know." Harry shuddered dramatically. "And it was just one witch this time. I've sent off all the information to the Aurors. It's their job to handle these things."
"Hm." Tom didn't look at all appeased by this solution, so Harry decided it was time to change the subject before Tom got it in his head he needed to send out class 2 nightmare curses to everyone and their grandmother and their kneazle who so much as looked funny at Harry.
"On a different note, I gave Draco Malfoy donkey ears," Harry said with no small amount of pride.
Tom didn't seem very impressed with this news. "Are you actually eleven? Because you hexing Lucius' spawn with donkey ears is rather compelling evidence that you are in fact a child."
Harry's grin didn't waver under Tom's criticism. If anything, it grew significantly wider. "He had it coming, trust me. He spent the entire week being insufferable about me getting injured. He wants to be Seeker and tries to disparage my Quidditch skills at every turn."
"That doesn't convince me of your maturity, my dear." Tom shook his head while giving Harry a hopeless look as he so often did whenever Harry brought up such fascinating subjects such as Quidditch. "Isn't it past your bedtime yet?"
Harry wanted to object for a moment, but when he actually thought about it he realized he was tired and he did have classes first thing tomorrow morning. "Yeah, I should probably go to sleep. One last thing, though." Harry brought the mirror a little closer to his face. "Snape is a sneaky Slytherin who used me hexing Draco as an excuse to give me detention tomorrow evening so he can interrogate me."
"Don't drink anything he offers you," Tom said pleasantly. "Severus is very eager with veritaserum when he wants answers."
"I wasn't going to," Harry said, a little insulted Tom would think him that naive.
"Then I don't see a problem with a little interrogation." Tom shrugged and downed the last of his camomile. "I don't blame Severus for wanting to learn some more about what's going on. I've only told him the bare minimum. He's magically bound to secrecy so you can tell him however many details you want to share."
"I haven't decided yet," Harry said while he stretched out against the mattress, pulling the covers up to his chin. "I'll see what Snape has to say."
"You look tired, my dear. Call me after your meeting with Severus." Tom gave him a small smile. "Good night, Harry."
"Good night, Tom," Harry whispered, already drowsy. He closed the mirror, slid it under his pillow and fell asleep with a smile on his face.
Harry's return to the general student population was noticed by everyone. The students of Hogwarts had stopped whispering about him some weeks ago, but they picked all the talking and staring and pointing right back up again when Harry walked out of the hospital wing. He stopped by his dorm to gather his books and made it to the Great Hall in time for breakfast.
"Welcome back," Theo said, scooting to the side to let Harry sit down between him and Blaise.
"You've certainly made an impression on the whole school," Blaise said while he nodded in the direction of two young Ravenclaws who were standing on their bench to get a better look at Harry.
"What are you looking at?" Tracey snarled over her shoulder at the Ravenclaw table. The two gawkers quickly sat down again.
Harry shook his head, determined to ignore all the unwanted attention like he'd been doing since the start of the school year. He served himself a generous portion of eggs and bacon and tucked in.
Draco was noticeably absent from breakfast that day, but he turned up in the entrance hall right before classes started, wearing his pointy wizarding hat which every student had to buy but no one ever wore. You could clearly see two huge, grey ears stuffed up inside the hat and Draco kept drawing attention to it by continuously pulling the hat down as far as he could. Draco glared at him and then deliberately turned his back on Harry, which suited Harry just fine.
They had double Herbology and double Charms that day, and both Sprout and Flitwick welcomed him back and gave him two weeks to catch up on any homework he might have missed. Harry planned to finish it all up before the weekend. He met with his friends in the library and he was glad that everyone seemed to make an effort to avoid any talk of his injury or time spent in the hospital. It felt like Harry had never left once everyone was seated and had their homework spread out around them.
When Susan got up to look for a book to help with her Defence essay, Harry saw an opportunity and decided to take it. He followed Susan into the stacks, glancing over his shoulder to make sure they were alone.
"Susan," Harry said quietly.
"Harry?" Susan looked at him with raised eyebrows.
"I need a favour." Harry swallowed, looking down at his shoes, pretending to be overcome for a moment. "When I was in a coma, I saw my parents."
Susan clapped a hand over her mouth in shock.
"I've already been looking into what happened to them," Harry quickly continued. He didn't want to upset Susan too much, seeing as she, too had lost her parents in the war. "I know Sirius Black betrayed them and that he's in Azkaban, but I've been looking for a report on his trial to see if he ever mentioned why he betrayed them, but I can't find anything." Harry gave Susan a pleading look. "Could you maybe ask your Aunt Amelia if she could look for the trial transcripts. They must have those at the Ministry. I would ask the Ministry myself, but I've got no clue what department to write to."
"Yes, of course," Susan said at once. "I'll ask my aunt, she'll know where to find the trial transcripts."
"Thank you," Harry said with genuine gratitude. He'd now taken the first step in getting Sirius released. Once Amelia Bones realized Sirius never had a trial and told Harry, he could then offer to get Sirius a solicitor to get to the bottom of his case, hopefully sometime during the Christmas holidays some three weeks away.
"You're welcome," Susan said, patting him on the arm. "I'll write a letter right away and have my owl Simon take it to Aunt Amelia this evening."
The rest of the afternoon flew by as Harry made an effort to get caught up with his homework. By dinner time the whispering and pointing had died down somewhat, thankfully. Snape kept a very sharp eye on him all throughout the meal while Harry studiously ignored him and enjoyed his spaghetti Bolognese. The moment Harry finished his plate, Snape got up from the head table and strode towards Harry with determined steps.
"With me, Potter," Snape all but snarled and didn't even wait to see if Harry followed.
"What?" Daphne looked at Harry with wide eyes. "Why?"
"I've got detention for rearranging Draco's ears," Harry said with a grin, earning a snort from Daphne.
"You should be expelled for mutilating a fellow student," Parkinson spat. Harry ignored her and hurried after Snape. Instead of leading him to the Potions classroom, Snape marched straight to his office and held the door open for Harry to slip inside. Then Snape slammed the door shut and cast several locking and privacy charms.
"Sit down," Snape hissed, seating himself behind his desk. Harry quickly sat down in one of the empty chairs in front of the desk and then waited patiently while Snape studied him, his arms crossed and an even bigger sneer than usual on his face. Harry wondered if Snape was angry. He seemed a bit angry.
"What on earth possessed you," Snape finally said through gritted teeth, dark eyes blazing with fury, "to bring back the Dark Lord, you lunatic child?"
Oh yeah, he was spitting mad.
Harry ducked his head, looking down at his lap for a moment. It was weird to be called out for his actions like that. Until now, the only people who knew the truth were people who were happy about the changes. Harry, Tom and Barty. That was it. But now Snape knew and he obviously had a very different view on things.
Not that Harry was surprised by this. When had Severus Snape ever, in any life, agreed with anything Harry said or did.
"Because he deserved a second chance, with his soul and sanity intact," Harry whispered, still not looking at Snape.
"Deserved a...are we talking about the same man here, Potter?" Snape all but growled, his hands pressed down on his desk as he leaned forward to glare at Harry. "The man who has personally killed hundreds of people, tortured even more of them, ended whole family lines for the simple reason those witches and wizards disagreed with him. That man? Did not deserve a second chance."
"You don't know him," Harry said, looking up at Snape with narrowed eyes. He didn't like Snape's description of Tom one bit. It seemed entirely unfair. "He was insane when he did those things."
"And he was sane when he cursed the Messrs. Weasley just yesterday," Snape snarled.
Harry shrugged, looking away again. "Fred and George deserved a little punishment."
"A class 2 dark curse, a nightmare curse, is not 'a little punishment', Potter." Snape looked about ready to curse Harry just to prove his point. "It remains to be seen if the Messrs. Weasley make it out of that curse unscathed."
Harry frowned and looked up at Snape. "It doesn't do permanent damage, Tom said."
Snape snorted and crossed his arms again. "It does no permanent physical damage. But it remains to be seen how much of their sanity will be in tact after spending weeks living their worst nightmares."
Gaping at Snape, Harry leaned back in his seat. He hadn't know about that side-effect, though perhaps he should have figured that out for himself.
"I suppose the Dark Lord failed to mention that to you," Snape said with no small amount of satisfaction. "Then again, torturing people into insanity was always a favourite hobby of his."
"He's not that Voldemort anymore," Harry insisted, pushing away this new information about the nightmare curse for now. He'd take it up with Tom later. Now he wanted to convince Snape that he'd made the right decision in bringing Tom Riddle back. "He's changed so much."
"I DON'T BLOODY WELL CARE HOW MUCH HE'S CHANGED NOW!" Snape roared, slamming both his hands down on his desk.
Harry pushed himself back into his seat in trepidation. Snape looked ready to launch himself across his desk and strangle Harry with his bare hands for having brought the Dark Lord back.
Snape inhaled a deep, shaky breath, visibly trying to calm himself when he saw Harry's reaction to him. "I doubt you'd understand what the first war was like, seeing as you hadn't been born yet, Potter, but let me assure you that, insane or not, your precious Tom caused untold amounts of grief amongst the witches and wizards of this country."
"I do understand," Harry muttered.
Snape ignored him, resolutely continuing his monologue. "He murdered enemies and allies alike. He murdered children. He let his followers have their way with anyone in any way. Do I have to spell that out for you, what some of the Death Eaters did to young muggleborn witches, and occasionally wizards, they got their hands on?"
Harry had barely considered any of those things, to be honest, but in hindsight it didn't surprise him those horrible things happened. "No, I get it."
"You clearly do not get it," Snape growled, balling his hands into fists, perhaps to keep himself from going for his wand. "Because if you got it, you wouldn't have brought back your parents' killer!"
Harry jumped up from his seat, unable to contain himself anymore. "I killed him!" Harry yelled, gesturing wildly at Snape. "I killed Voldemort, and I died. Twice." Harry's breathing sped up and became uneven but he didn't even consider stopping his tirade to try to control his breathing. "I've lived through a war, I've been vilified and prosecuted by the Ministry even before Voldemort took it over, I've been on the run for almost a year while living in a tent and starving, I've lost so many people, I've seen so many people die." Harry stopped talking for a moment as he stared at Snape, seeing nothing but red around the man. "I saw you die. You died right in front of me, on the floor of the Shrieking Shack and there was so much blood gushing from your throat that the whole floor was red – "
"Potter."
"And I couldn't stop it, I didn't know any healing spells or had any useful potions on me, I mean dittany can only do so much –"
"Potter, breathe."
Fuck. Harry couldn't breathe.