AN: Two weeks ago, the first entry of Pairing Oneshots went live. As the name implies, Pairing Oneshots is a series of oneshots that will each focus on a different pairing that, in my opinion, does not receive enough love from the community. Be sure to check it out! The second entry will go live on October 19, two weeks from now.

Chapter 8: A Riddle Solved

Over the next few weeks, Harry didn't have a lot of time to devote to his search for information on the elusive Mr Riddle, as they had quite a lot of homework to do. And on top of that, Tomasha seemed determined to expand their friend group beyond the trio they had been before Hogwarts, with her often inviting Millicent Bulstrode, Bella Rookwood, Thomas Selwyn and Blaise Zabini to work on homework in addition to Daphne and Tracey, who already joined anyway.

Harry, of course, wasn't going to slip away all the time, as he didn't want to give off the message that he didn't want to interact with them. And it wasn't like it could hurt to make friends with members – and even heirs and heiresses – of other Noble Houses.

By the end of September, Arithmancy finally moved out of the math repetition phase and into actual Arithmancy. Daphne in particular had been looking forward a lot to the first 'real' lesson on the subject.

"Good morning," their teacher, Professor Vector, greeted them. "With the mathematics exam behind us, we'll be covering the elementary principles of Arithmancy in the coming weeks. Today, we are starting with the importance of specific magical numbers. Perhaps someone can tell me the most important magical numbers?"

A few students raised their hands.

"Miss Patil?"

"Three, seven and thirteen," the Ravenclaw answered.

"Correct," Vector said. "To keep with the theme we'll be discussing, three points to Ravenclaw. Three important numbers, namely three itself, seven and thirteen. Can someone tell me what they have in common? Miss Greengrass?"

"They are all prime numbers."

"Again, correct. Three points to Slytherin. Next question: are all prime numbers important? Mr Corner perhaps?"

"No."

"Incorrect, however I will not take points as it is something of a trick question. Not all prime numbers hold the same amount of importance, however they do all hold some specific importance. Eleven is the clearest example among the small prime numbers of one that holds less importance, yet once you get into the thick of it and start using arithmancy in your Potions, Spellcrafting or whatever else you are doing, you will find that a number like eleven will still hold more value than a non-prime such as ten.

"Now, there is sometimes some confusion about this next point, so let me clarify right now. In arithmancy, the number two is not considered a prime. Some of you may be aware of so-called 'trivial cases', though do not worry if you aren't. A trivial case is basically an answer to an equation, or just a number, that is both extremely obvious and completely useless. When talking about primes, in mathematics one is considered a trivial case, and is excluded, but two is not.

"However, once you start taking arithmancy into account," she tapped the board behind her, "you will find that the number two does not hold any specific magical significance, and you will frequently have to work around it if you do include it among the prime numbers. Therefore, we specifically exclude it from the primes in arithmancy, while we do not in mathematics. This is one of very few cases where the two fields contradict each other, as they normally just coexist."

Vector took a sip from her drink.

"Most of your Arithmancy will revolve around solving equations. Fundamentally, these are often not magical in nature." An equation – far too difficult for Harry to solve – appeared as she waved her wand at the board. "This is an example of an arithmantic equation that any muggle with some education in mathematics could solve. However, that does not mean you do not need magical knowledge for this subject as a whole. This three, for example," she pointed at the relevant digit, "can be derived as being a three because of the magical significance of the number. I will not explain how to do so today, as this particular equation is NEWT-level.

"As another example, this equation technically has an infinite number of solutions, but Arithmancy often imposes two limitations that are absent in muggle mathematics. First, in most arithmantic equations, all variables you enter into it need to be integers, meaning whole numbers. The x, y and a that you see here cannot be fractions or such. In addition, you can typically ignore any solutions that do not give an integer as output as well. This is because all integers – even those that aren't primes – have a base level of magical significance that fractions lack."

Tracey raised her hand.

"Miss Davis?"

"What is the highest prime we use?"

The professor chuckled. "I have no idea, but I can tell you they get very big. Many of the equations needed to design spells use primes with at least three and often four or more digits. I can tell you right now that it will be very beneficial to, if nothing else, learn all primes up to a hundred by heart, and preferably more. We will also be going over efficient methods to determine whether a number is prime in the second semester. And even then, professional spellcrafters will often use reference sheets to simply look up whether a number is prime."

Vector continued with a short explanation of a simple method to determine whether a number was prime, and gave the class some numbers between a hundred and a thousand for which everyone had to determine which ones were prime and which ones were not.

It wasn't anything too difficult, in Harry's opinion, but at least they were approaching the point where magic was actually involved in the subject.

October went by quickly, and rather uneventfully. Though Harry made some progress in his effort to find out more about the Riddles, it wasn't much. All he had found was that Tom Marvolo Riddle had never gotten a job at the Ministry, and in fact didn't seem to appear in any records at all beyond the early fifties. In addition, he'd confirmed that there had been no Riddles at Hogwarts after him – at least, until this year – which made Harry believe that Tom Marvolo Riddle was in fact Tomasha and Delphini's father, rather than grandfather.

But he didn't have a clue who Tom Marvolo Riddle was, why the girls always refused to answer his questions – back when he still bothered – and why Ollivander cared about their heritage so much.

Then there was the seeming connection to the Gaunt family, which was supposedly extinct. Tomasha's middle name – Merope – had been given to several Gaunt family members in the past, which was how Harry had gotten on track for that, and he had also found criminal records of one Marvolo Gaunt and one Morfin Gaunt in the twenties – and in Marvolo's case again in the forties. Marvolo Gaunt could possibly be Riddle's grandfather, but then Harry had to assume he also had a daughter – likely called Merope then, considering Tomasha's second name – who had presumably had a child with a muggle or muggleborn, which didn't fit the Gaunts at all.

Still, he couldn't rule that theory out when they were getting ready for the Halloween feast. Harry was looking forward to the evening. Sure, there were some mixed feelings because it was also the evening that his parents had died, however it was not as if he remembered them in the first place. Tomasha and Delphini were a little reluctant to talk to him about it, which was his only regret in the matter. Perhaps Tracey and Daphne would be better in that regard, he'd have to think about how to break the topic on a day they no doubt considered festive.

"I heard Granger is having a breakdown," Tomasha said as they settled at the Slytherin table. The House tables were pretty much filled up already, and as Harry scouted the Gryffindor table, where he indeed couldn't see their bushy-haired classmate.

"Where did you hear that?" he asked.

"I overheard some Gryffindor girls," she said. "Apparently one of the Gryffindor boys made a mean comment after Charms, and she broke down. Has been in the second floor bathroom for the entire afternoon according to them."

Harry grimaced inwardly. He really wanted to talk to her, as she seemed rather alone, yet he still wasn't sure whether it was the right call considering his position in Slytherin. He seemed to be gaining some respect from the House, but it felt more like tolerance than acceptance.

Conversation flowed from one topic to another throughout the start of the meal, only to be rudely interrupted.

"Troll!" Quirrell shouted as he ran into the Great Hall. "In the dungeons!" He slumped down in front of the head table. "Thought you ought to know…"

Pandemonium erupted as hundreds of students started talking loudly, shoving their benches backwards to stand, however a few loud bangs from Dumbledore's wand restored order.

"Calm down, everyone. Please stay together with your house, and make your way to your common rooms in an orderly fashion. The staff will search for the troll. Stay with your prefects at all times."

Harry and his friends looked at one another. "The troll is in the dungeons," Tracey hissed.

"We should be fine," Daphne replied, sounding far calmer. "A dozen seventh years shouldn't have trouble fighting off a troll. That's if we even run into it, the dungeons are quite large."

Assuaged, the group made their way out of the Great Hall and were about to descend into the dungeons when Tomasha spoke up.

"What about Granger?"

Harry looked at her in shock. "You're right! She doesn't know about the troll. We need to warn her." And House boundaries be damned.

"Come on," Tomasha said, ducking into an alcove, joined by Harry and Delphini. Tracey and Daphne saw them leave, but wisely held their tongue – they'd no doubt heard their conversation.

It was only seconds before the hallway was empty, and Tomasha led the way upstairs through a secret passage. Careful to avoid any possible teachers, they rounded a corner, approaching the bathrooms when a nasty smell filled their nostrils.

"Please tell me that's not troll," Harry said.

"I think that's troll," Delphini replied.

Hurried, wands out, they rounded the next corner. A lumbering giant of a creature stood in the hallway, club in it's hand and clad in nothing but a loincloth. Just as it entered their vision, it let out a deafening roar, then swung it's club at a doorway.

Inside sounded a shriek.

"That's the girl's bathroom!" Delphini exclaimed.

As one, the trio dashed forward while the troll entered the bathroom.

"Spread out," Harry said as they follow the creature. "Stupefy!" he tried, sending a stunner at the troll. However, it's magic-resistant hide shrugged the spell off completely. At the very least, his shout seemed to draw the troll's attention away from Hermione cowering in the corner.

The beast let out another roar.

Delphini shot out a stunner of her own, however Tomasha, with two flicks of her wand, lifted up a piece of a broken sink and sent it flying at the troll, cutting through it's skin, though not deep enough to draw blood.

Inspired, Harry switched to the same tactic, using the levitation spell they'd learned earlier today to hover rubble into the air, then using a simple banishing spell – one he'd controlled wandlessly for years, and practiced with his wand in summer – to send it flying at the troll.

"We can't get it down!" Delphini exclaimed as the creature slowly turned around, annoyed at the barrage now coming from three sides. It swung it's club and Tomasha dove out of the way, though several stalls were turned into rubble. Only a quick protego kept the debris from burying Tomasha. As Harry hurled several more objects at the troll, Tomasha scrambled away and to her feet to get back to casting.

The troll was starting to show cuts all over, however even as they were fighting it, they saw how the skin was regrowing.

Desperate, Harry changed tactics, throwing his wand to the ground, switching to wandless spells. Not having to say the words out loud increased his casting speed, and he could send a full barrage of objects at the troll now, his left hand levitating object after object and his right hand banishing them at the troll.

One of them hit the troll's groin, causing it to roar loudly, and Harry immediately switched focus to that area instead of it's torso. Delphini had by now joined in, while Tomasha was still using her wand, yet throwing objects at a similar speed.

The troll started to lumber forward towards Harry, however he stepped back even as he continued his barrage, and the creature was certainly slowing down by now. It's loincloth was torn to rags – regrettably, that allowed Harry to see things he could have gone his life without seeing – and cuts that actually bled were starting to appear now.

The roars turned into screams of pain as the troll slowed down further, and, just a few meters away from the retreating Harry, stumbled to the ground.

The three pounced immediately, seeking the sharpest objects they could find and driving them into the troll's skin as deep as they could, incapacitating it further. Tomasha sent a shard deep into it's right arm, causing it to drop it's club, and Harry and Delphini together cut deep enough into it's legs to hopefully cut some muscles or tendons essential for walking.

To top it off, Tomasha levitated the club high into the air, then crashed it down on the creature's head as hard as her magic could manage, knocking it out completely.

"Merlin!" Delphini panted. "What an endurance that beast has."

Harry satisfied himself with simply panting, not wanting to speak right now. He sank down against a wall, taking in the ravage that was the remains of the second floor bathroom. Not a single stall was still standing, and all sinks but one had been crashed from the wall. Multiple faucets were spraying water, which was quickly pooling on the floor. Over at the other side of the bathroom, Tomasha sat down next to a shaking Hermione, who seemed to be completely in shock.

Not that Harry could blame her.

He didn't hear what Tomasha said to the Gryffindor, however his senses went back on full alert when, several seconds after, footsteps sounded outside. He turned his head to the door right in time to see Professors Snape, McGonagall, Quirrell and Dumbledore appear.

"Uh," Harry said, glancing between them and the unconscious beast. "We, uh, took care of it?"

"Did you go hunting for a troll?" McGonagall demanded when she regained her wits.

"No," Tomasha spoke up from the other side of the room. She stood up to make her way over to the teachers, who were still near the entrance. "I'd overheard that Miss Granger wasn't feeling well and was in the bathroom, and then Professor Quirrell raised the alarm. We realized no one had warned Miss Granger, so we decided to look for her. If we'd been looking for the troll, professor, we wouldn't have been here on the Second Floor in the first place. I'm sure you know where the Slytherin common room is, after all.

"Anyway, once we got here, we noticed the troll was actually here, however it had found Miss Granger. We realized that she was locked in there and that we had to save her. So… well," she looked around awkwardly. "We did."

"You should have gotten a teacher or prefect," McGonagall said.

"With all due respect, professor," Harry said, "if we'd been even ten seconds later, Miss Granger would've been dead."

Professor Snape was inspecting the cuts on the troll's body. "Would one of you be so kind as to explain how you managed to cut a troll's skin?"

"Smart use of spells, professor," Harry replied. "We used levitation spells to line rubble up, then shot it away with banishing spells. A lot of the rubble had sharp edges."

"Banishing spells are fourth year spells," Snape said, giving Harry a piercing gaze.

"We've been reading ahead," Harry said. "It seemed like a useful spell." He looked around, his eyes suddenly falling on his wand, which had rolled against a wall. "I guess we were right."

Shortly after looking back at Snape, he suddenly noticed an attempted intrusion in his mindscape, which he quickly and effectively booted out. Snape showed no visual reaction, but Harry knew it had been him. Which was of course a big error in judgement from the professor's side. But that was something for later.

Harry quietly summoned his wand as the professors looked between each other, seemingly handling it over to Dumbledore. "For all your foolishness in leaving the safety of your House with a troll on the loose, you have performed admirably to save the life of a fellow student. Take twenty-five points for Slytherin each. You may go back to your House's common room accompanied by Professor Snape. Miss Granger, you will be escorted back to the Gryffindor common room by Professor McGonagall."

Professor Snape wasted no time, turning with that billowing cloak of his and stalking down towards the dungeons, with Harry and his friends scrambling to keep up. On the way down, only a single short exchange of words broke the silence.

"Mr Potter, do you have time to visit my office tomorrow?"

"Of course, professor," Harry replied, assuming Snape wanted to handle his legilimency attempt behind closed doors.

The next day, after dinner, Harry made his way to Snape's office, as requested.

"Come in," Snape called after Harry knocked.

Harry entered and sat in the chair in front of the professor's desk. "You wanted to talk about something, professor?"

Snape nodded. "As you seem to be aware, I overstepped my boundaries yesterday by attempting to legilimens you. I would like to apologize for that."

"Apologies accepted, sir."

"I'd appreciate it if you would not mention this to anyone else, Mr Potter."

Harry nodded. He'd expected that – Snape could receive a serious reprimand from higher up if Harry talked. That didn't mean Harry was going to give this favor away for free. "I'm sure Slytherin House would not mind too much if I were to occasionally talk to the girl whose life we saved, right? Even with her blood status."

Snape hesitated, then nodded. "That should be fine indeed. If there is nothing else, you may leave."

Harry nodded, standing. "Good evening, sir."

"And five points to Slytherin for showing cunning."

Harry smirked as he left. He had no illusions about his Head of House's opinion of him, but it did seem he was starting to gather some respect – and besides, Snape would never pass up a good opportunity to give Slytherin points.

That Saturday, they sat at breakfast close to their usual time, though it was busier than normal.

It took a while before Delphini noticed. "Wait," she murmured after the first few sips of her coffee, "why is the table so full?" Then, with an excited squeal, "It's Quidditch season!"

Harry, Tracey and Tomasha all couldn't help but start laughing at the sudden turnaround in her mood and even Daphne cracked a small smile.

About half an hour later, they made their way to the Quidditch pitch. As Delphini had so readily noticed, today would be the first match of the season, Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Harry had let himself be informed that the Quidditch season at Hogwarts consisted of a total of twelve games, split into two rounds of six games where all teams played each other once. The winter round would be played in November, December and January, with a game every two weeks – and a break around Christmas – while the spring round would be played in March, April and May. At the end, the Quidditch Cup would be awarded to the team that led the standings.

"I'm back," Delphini said, now wearing more green and silver than Harry had realized she owned. Not having realized today was Quidditch, she hadn't taken her Slytherin scarf, hat, gloves and more to breakfast.

As one of the prefects was explaining, the Houses that didn't play normally divided themselves based on the team they supported, with the neutral supporters in the middle. The result was a green-and-silver sea on one side of the stands, a red-and-gold sea on the other side, and a small buffer without bright colors in between.

The positioning of the scoreboard – which was located at the halfway point of the field – betrayed that Gryffindor was more popular than Slytherin, with their supporters from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw making up just over half of the total Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, leaving slightly less for the neutrals and Slytherin supporters together.

That scoreboard showed four large numbers. The two at the top displayed the current scores for the teams – zero, as the match hadn't yet started. The two at the bottom displayed the value of the snitch for each team, and were currently at twenty-five.

As the game played out, the value of the snitch would slowly increase. While a goal was worth ten points straight up, the first three goals would also up the value of the snitch by one for their team only, after which the next three would up the value by two, then by three, and so on. As a result, the longer a game went the more worth the snitch would become relative to the number of points scored. Sometimes, a worse team would deliberately draw the game out as long as possible, because even if they only made half as many goals as their opponents, or less still, there would come a point where the snitch would allow them to win the match.

But right now, Lee Jordan – a third-year Gryffindor – was announcing the players from the two teams, first their four chasers, then their two beaters and last their keeper. Madam Hooch was refereeing the game, and suddenly the teams were off.

Despite their youth, the Gryffindor chasers quickly started showing their worth, getting out to an early 30-10 lead. The snitch didn't seem to play much of a role yet – though Harry noticed it several times from the stands, and a number of players seemed to do so as well, none were ever close enough to give chase.

Any player was allowed to go after the snitch at any time, and catching it would end the game. However, that was a very deceptive goal. Chasing the snitch meant leaving your team at a man disadvantage in one way or another – typically only the chasers could get away with it, and not for long – and while it wasn't that hard to momentarily spot the golden flash, keeping it in vision and catching it was much harder.

"And Bell is asking for the quaffle, she gets it, she avoids Pucey, she aims and… she drops the quaffle, she held onto it for too long! This is of course her first match, some nerves are to be expected."

Indeed, Marcus Flint caught the quaffle, passed it back and forth between teammates, and several seconds later, it sailed neatly past Wood's defense and into Gryffindor's left ring, putting the score at 40-20 rather than 50-10.

The quaffle was, in Harry's opinion, a curiosity. While it's function was no different than a ball in most muggle sports, it actually had more enchantments on it than any other ball. It was sticky, and therefore easy to catch and hold in your hand, however if one person held it for too long – the time depended on the skill level of the game, it was longer in a place like Hogwarts and shorter in professional play – it would become impossibly slick instead, and slip out of the players hand no matter how they held it. It was also of relatively normal weight for a ball, most similar to a volleyball, however if it descended below the playing field, which meant below the rings, it would slow it's decent significantly, allowing players to easily pick it out of the air.

"He's going for the snitch!" Delphini suddenly yelled into Harry's ear.

Indeed, Flint had abandoned the playing field for the moment, instead chasing the snitch. Harry himself didn't see it, and Flint lost track of it after a few seconds as well, returning to the game.

It was a risky play, in Harry's opinion. Slytherin was currently twenty points behind, and the snitch was only worth 27, so if Gryffindor would get a goal while Flint was on the hunt they'd lose even if he caught it, and that was of course more likely the moment Flint went for the snitch in the first place, as it would leave the team at a chaser disadvantage.

The ebb and flow of the game continued, and at 60-40 in favor of Gryffindor, so a hundred points total, Madam Hooch called for a break, letting the teams switch sides before play continued – a rule created to ensure neither team would be significantly more disadvantaged by sun or wind than the other one.

While the game was interesting to Harry – for the sake of House pride if nothing else – little of note happened. Slytherin's aggressive playstyle cost them a few fouls, however it also netted them the quaffle on more than one occasion.

Chasers from both teams broke off to look for the snitch at times, but it wasn't until the teams had played for almost an hour that it flitted right across Flint and Angelina Johnson.

"They've seen the snitch!" Jordan commentated. "With the score being 230-160 in favor of Gryffindor, either team would win if they catch it right now. Flint is trying to muscle Johnson out of the way, but doesn't seem to be committing any fouls. I'm not seeing the snitch right now, but it looks like Flint is winning – oh, there it is, yes, he is indeed closer to it, they swerve in tandem, but Flint gains a small lead on Johnson, meanwhile Bletchley blocked the shot from Bell, potentially saving the game for Slytherin, and Pucey picks up the quaffle. Back to the chase, both Flint and Johnson are still focused on the snitch, Flint reaches out aaaaaand – he's got it! Marcus Flint has caught the snitch, and Slytherin win 236 to 230.

"That means Slytherin will earn themselves a total of 38 points for this season's championship. 23 from their points, another ten from winning the match, and five from catching the snitch. Gryffindor will have to make peace with only 23 points, all from their goals. Remember that catching the snitch will always give five championship points, and that the winning team will earn ten extra, while in the rare case of a tie both teams will only earn five instead, and lastly that a team can never earn more than thirty championship points from the points they obtained during a single game."

That rule encouraged players to abandon the quaffle play if a game lasted too long, as making goals became less relevant – their only use beyond 300 points was to determine the winner, which gave just enough points that teams typically kept either two or three chasers on the quaffle play. More or less depending on the exact scores, of course.

"Party in the common room!" one of the older year students behind Harry in the stands announced. Around him, everyone was cheering for their team's victory in the first match of the year, sending the team off to a strong start. Delphini was jumping up and down in excitement, hugging Tomasha, Harry and Tracey in turn – Daphne had quickly put some distance between her and the Quidditch fanatic.

With the area around them clearing up, they got moving and made their way out of the stands. Time to see whether that party would be any good.

The day after the Quidditch match, Harry finally had some time to go back to the library and delve into the Riddle mystery some more. He made his way up there, gave a quick nod to Madam Pince and looked for a good place to sit. While doing so, he came across Hermione, who had three tomes open and was scribbling away on some parchment. Was she really always doing homework?

It did remind Harry that he had wanted to do something else, so he approached her for the first time in almost two months.

"Hermione?" he whispered.

"Harry?" she looked up, surprised. "Is something the matter?"

"I figured we could maybe sit together," Harry said, "but I think this might not be the best place to do so. Perhaps we could look for a different table further back?"

"Uh." She looked a little flustered. "Yeah, I'll uh…" she rearranged some papers. Harry stepped up and closed a few of the books for her and took them in his arms.

"Thanks," she said, picking up the remainder and following Harry to a more private corner. He placed her books on the table and sat down. Hermione, immediately, grabbed the books and set them out again like before.

"How are you holding up?" Harry asked.

"I'm… not sure," she replied after a moment. "Thanks. For saving me. You and Tomasha and Delphini."

"Are you making friends?" Harry asked, figuring she wasn't likely to admit to what he'd already heard about what happened on Halloween.

She looked back at him with – to his surprise – a hurt look in her eyes. "You didn't want to talk to me either."

"I didn't mean it like that," Harry defended himself. "It's just… I can't ignore what Slytherin thinks of me, you know."

She looked away from him. "You're just being nice. You don't even like me."

"No, Hermione," Harry said, reaching out, though she didn't see it. "I want to be your friend, okay? I… I'm sorry, I think I took the reality of Slytherin and wizarding politics too much for granted, I didn't stop to realize you didn't grow up with it."

"If you want to be my friend," she asked, "then why didn't you talk to me for two months? You were in the library several times per week."

"Something changed," Harry said. "In Slytherin. I can't tell you what, but it's given me a bit more room to talk to you, as long as I'm not too blatant about it. It… it has to do with, you know, the troll and everything. The same for Tomasha and Delph."

"Why do you even care what the Slytherins think?" Hermione asked. "They're just bullies. You're helping them like this, you know."

"If I would ignore them," Harry said, "it would make my life much harder. People like Malfoy are bullies, yes, but one day, he and I are both going to be part of the Wizengamot. If I spend my time here at Hogwarts constantly disrespecting him and Slytherin House, he and his allies would never even listen to what I have to say. Hermione, I'm trying, I really am. That's why I made sure we could talk to each other now."

"But you still don't want to talk where others can see us," she accused.

Harry sighed, unsure how to reply – he couldn't exactly give away that he'd basically asked for a favor from Snape, or even that Snape himself might have to step in to make sure he could continue talking to Hermione.

"It's complicated," Harry said. "I promise I'll keep meeting up with you here in the library, together with Tomasha and Delph if I can pull them along, and I'll try and get a better position where I can get away with talking you even in, like, the Great Hall, okay?"

"Promise?" Hermione asked, hopeful.

"Promise."

"So what homework are you doing?" she asked, suddenly all business as she looked back and forth between her books. "Maybe we could work together?"

"I've already finished my homework," Harry said. "I was here for something else, actually."

"You've actually finished your homework already?" Hermione asked in surprise. "It's so much! I barely have time for anything else."

Harry shrugged. Sure, he had to spend a few hours on it every day, but it wasn't like he never had time off himself. "Maybe it's because I work together with others all the time. Perhaps we can do tomorrow's homework together after dinner? This table?"

Hermione nodded, already dipping her quill in her ink. "I'd like that. Well, if you're going to do something else, I'm getting to work now."

Harry nodded – though she didn't see it – and stepped up to a nearby shelf on Hogwarts, figuring if he could get any more information from one of these tomes.

It was nothing but a few more hours of dead ends. At some point, Hermione had finished her homework for the weekend and left, leaving Harry alone at the table to think. He felt like he was missing one final piece, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was. By now, he probably knew everything about Tom Marvolo Riddle there was to find, and it wasn't enough to understand why the girls didn't talk about him, or why Ollivander had brought up their heritage.

Perhaps… perhaps he should go through those odd moments that he'd stored separately in his mindscape. The times where Tomasha – it was typically her – said or did something that didn't make sense. He quickly made his way through the now rather impressive fortress of his mind, finding the correct cupboard and taking out the oldest memory. A memory he'd only stored in there later, as he hadn't realized something was odd the first time around.

"The House of Slytherin has a really bad reputation nowadays," a seven year old Tomasha said, "and the only person who could claim it in the last century is Voldemort, and he'd never get the support needed. The House of Hufflepuff can be claimed by the Smith family, and several people have tried, but no one ever got enough support for that either for several reasons."

Well, that was all known information to Harry.

"What about me?" Harry asked. "Could I claim another House?"

"I… don't think so," Tomasha said. "Well, you can't because you're already Lord Potter. Maybe if you'd have had a younger brother or sister they could've claimed House Peverell though, that's a famous but extinct House."

"House Peverell?" Delphini asked. "I've never heard of them."

"Both the House of Potter and the House of Gaunt can trace their lineage back to them," Tomasha said. "But I don't think either can also claim the House."

The House of Gaunt. The House which shared several names with the Riddles – Marvolo for Tom and the second-to-last impoverished Lord Gaunt, and Merope, Tomasha's middle name which had been given to several Gaunts in the past. He continued the memory.

"You mean—"

"Yes."

That was the part that had stood out to Harry when he'd gone back to it. Tomasha pretty much never cut Delphini – or anyone – off.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"Nothing important," Tomasha said. "The House of Gaunt is the same House through which Voldemort had his claim on the Slytherin Lordship."

No.

That was impossible.

Harry sat frozen, like a deer in the headlights.

What if… Voldemort could be someone else. Morfin, perhaps – he definitely had a similar attitude towards muggles. But, no, Morfin had died in Azkaban.

It could still be someone else. Tom Marvolo Riddle. Was there anything that might link him to Voldemort? The time frame matched – Tom Riddle had disappeared in the early fifties, while Voldemort had appeared in the late sixties. And Harry was quite sure no one – or almost no one – knew Lord Voldemort's true identity.

Even though he now had a hypothesis – and a scary one at that – Harry still had very little to go off. Some achievements of Tom Riddle – which did match someone as powerful as Voldemort – and the names. Unless there was like, an anagram, he'd never be able to prove a connection.

Perhaps he should try that – there was a 'vol' in Marvolo, after all.

He got to work.

And everything fell in place.

It matched up.

Perfectly.

'I am Lord Voldemort.'

Harry went over the letters a second time to make sure he had not imagined it.

This was as good as proof.

A multitude of emotions raged through him, so many that he could not recognize even a single one of them. His best friends, who had saved him from the hellhole that was the Dursley home, were daughters of the very man who had killed his parents and – effectively – put him there.

And they knew.

Harry knew they knew.

He pressed his eyes shut, trying to make sense of the mess that was his head. Occlumency could only do so much, and right now it simply wasn't enough.

What should he do?

He couldn't very well not tell them that he knew.

Should he trust them to have had the best intentions?

Could he?

What did it mean for Thorfinn Rowle and his wife? Surely, the Dark Lord himself would not let his children be raised just by anyone. Were they, then, Death Eaters?

If so, why had they never done anything to Harry?

So many questions.

And no answers.

He'd have to confront Tomasha and Delphini, before anything else. He knew that much.

Besides, he wasn't sure he could be in their presence without them immediately realizing something was going on – Tomasha in particular.

Feeling numb, he packed up the books he'd gotten out, returning what belonged in the library to their shelves and the rest to his bag, and made his way down towards the dungeons. He swallowed before entering the common room.

Delphini and Tomasha sat in a closed setting together with Daphne and Tracey. Harry had to force himself to walk over there, then put his bag on the ground, trying to find the words to say. Tomasha had noticed him and turned to him, followed quickly by the others.

"We need to talk," Harry said, looking at the twins and ignoring the other two. "Somewhere private."

Tomasha gave him a surprised look, while Delphini's mask did not change.

"Sure," Tomasha said. "Where?"

"I… don't know," Harry hesitated. "Somewhere private. Not here."

"Come," Tomasha said, rising and taking the lead. "We'll find an empty classroom. Sorry Trace, Daphne. We'll continue later."

"No problem," Tracey replied. Her eternal cheer was at odds with Harry's current torrent of emotion.

Harry and Delphini followed Tomasha out of the common room and a few doors over into the closest classroom.

Tomasha sat down on a table as Harry closed the door. "What's going on?" she asked, concern on her face.

Harry searched for words for a few seconds. The ones that came out weren't the ones he had intended to say. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Tomasha looked at him in confusion. "Tell you what?"

"That you're – that he is your father."

There, the words were out. Harry found himself shaking, and he distantly realized he was close to breaking out in tears.

Tomasha actually seemed to not know what to say for a moment, but collected herself. "How did you find that out?"

"Is that what you care about?" Harry exclaimed, anger suddenly rising. "How I found out? Why didn't you tell me? You kept this from me! You knew! You knew even back when we first met!"

"Yes," Delphini said sarcastically. "That's a great way to introduce ourselves. 'Hi, I'm Delphini, my dad killed your parents, let's be friends!'"

Harry wanted to give an angry reply, but paused as the words got through to him. That did sound rather ridiculous.

"But why didn't you tell me later?" he wanted to know.

"I'm sorry," Tomasha said, hopping off the table and approaching him, but Harry backed off. "I… we didn't know how to tell you," she said. "You're right, we should have told you."

"I don't even know if I can trust you!" Harry exclaimed.

"Of course you can!" Tomasha immediately replied. "Harry, you know us, right? We've been friends for years. I've taught you occlumency, we've practiced wandless spells together, we were together at school, everything else. Do you really believe we'd do that if we're going to leave you?"

"Or maybe you're just trying to lure me to his side, and you'll leave me if I won't agree!"

"No!" Tomasha pretty much shouted. "Harry, we'd never do that. I promise. Right, Delph?"

"I won't," Delphini said. "Leave you, that is."

Tomasha nodded confidently. "And I won't either. Harry, you've heard about the war, right? What he's like? Do you really think he'd even allow you to live?"

"I don't know," Harry said, all anger again deflating from him. He was starting to feel tired. "But he's still your father."

Tomasha turned to her sister. "Delph, can you go back to the common room? There's a few things between me and Harry that I want to talk about."

Masking her surprise, Delphini left, leaving the two of them alone.

"Harry, remember how I cared for you when I first discovered what the Dursleys did to you? And every time after? Do you really think I'd have done that if I'd been on his side?"

"If you want me to join him," Harry said, though he wasn't sure at this point why he was arguing. He wanted to believe her. Wanted to believe that Tomasha would be on his side, even now that he knew who her father was.

"Harry, no offense, but you were a wreck back then. If I'd have ignored you, I'm not sure if you'd even have made Hogwarts. If you had, I have no doubt you'd have been completely isolated, maybe except for one or two friends that you might just run into by sheer luck. Kind of like how Weasley happened to ask if he could join in our compartment on the train. You wouldn't have known occlumency, wouldn't have known about the magical world, your position in the magical world, and so on.

"There's no way you would've been a danger to him in any way. Can you imagine how convenient that'd be? A nemesis who lets everyone walk over him, who doesn't know any magic, who can barely pass school?

"If I was on my father's side, I'd never risk losing all that for the chance you'd join the man who murdered your parents."

"But why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm sorry," Tomasha repeated, edging closer to Harry. "I should have. We should have, though I'm not sure if Delph could possibly bring it in a good way. I'm not sure if I could, actually. But, well, I guess now you know. Harry, I'll stay with you, on your side. I promise. You're my friend."

Hesitant, with a pleading look in her eyes, she reached out to him.

Finally, all walls Harry had broke down and he pulled her into a hug as his emotions from the day poured out.

He wasn't sure how long they stood there, with Tomasha offering words of encouragement, ensuring him that nothing could come between their friendship, not even her family.

When Harry collected himself, aided by a very handy spell from Tomasha to remove any traces of crying, he felt like he was ready for bed, yet it was barely time for dinner. Together with Tomasha, he went back to the common room, wondering if he shouldn't have chased this secret in the first place.

AN: Check out my Twitter (handle: Leyrann) or Discord (/WzYpyPT) for the latest updates on my writing. Also check out the site-that-shall-not-be-named (creator: Leyrann) if you wish to support me. Benefits include teasers of future chapters, sneak peeks into my outlining and more. Also, the teasers will be made publicly available on Discord two days before a new chapter is posted.