Chapter 34

Dumbledore picked up a bright red mug just as he shook open the Prophet in front of him, and Harry had the pleasure, nay, the privilege to see the revered Headmaster of Hogwarts dump an entire cup of coffee down his beard.

Seriously, it looked like Dumbledore had a sudden case of diarrhoea of the mouth which stained most of his silver-white beard a dull brown.

Desperately trying to hold back his cackles, Harry quickly held up his own newspaper high enough to bury his face behind it while his shoulders shook and the paper rustled in his hands.

"Did Dumbledore just spill coffee all over himself?" Blaise asked in disbelieving delight while Harry was holding his breath in an attempt not to burst out into peals of laughter.

"What?" Draco demanded, turning in his seat to look at the head table. "Look at him! He can't even do breakfast right. No wonder this place has such low standards."

All around them students took notice of their headmaster's embarrassing little accident, and just as Harry peeked over the top of his newspaper, still holding his breath for all he was worth, Dumbledore all but jumped up and hurried out of the hall through the side door behind the head table. Unable to hold back his laughter any longer, Harry let go and bent over, cackling madly with sheer gratification at seeing Dumbledore's stunned reaction at realizing Voldemort had returned in a brand new body.

Well, not really Voldemort, since Tom these days was an entirely different person, but Dumbledore didn't know that, of course.

Thankfully, lots of students were laughing around them so Harry's ridiculous reaction didn't stand out too much. He just seemed like an immature child taking pleasure at seeing a grown-up spilling something all over himself, but he certainly wasn't the only student with a reaction like that.

Their first class was Herbology and as usual they teamed up with Ernie and Justin to prune some buzzing primroses. Their flowers let off a soft noise in the wind, hence the name, but since it was late November, the primroses weren't in bloom and just needed pruning to see them through the oncoming winter.

Theo sidled closer to Harry as they worked, while Ernie and Justin loudly discussed the discovery of Ravenclaw's Diadem. Neither seemed very heartbroken about Lockhart's fate, but from what Harry understood Justin had no clue who he was and Ernie had always thought Lockhart a bit of a fop, though Ernie's mother was a huge fan and would surely be disappointed. At the table next to theirs Millicent and Daphne, together with Zacharias Smith of all people, were having a heated discussion about the evil Daily Prophet for slandering their beloved hero, while Tracey and Wayne Hopkins shared many a knowing look in between ducking their heads to hide their smirks.

That seemed to be the reaction at all tables. A portion of students were sad or angry about Lockhart's arrest while the rest seemed quietly amused at his fate but were too polite or too insecure to say such things out loud.

"That Gaunt fellow," Theo whispered in Harry's ear while everyone else was distracted. "He's the one you mentioned meeting and you said he was very closely related."

Harry said nothing but continued snipping dead leaves off the primrose in front of him.

"Considering his fairly young age," Theo continued, glancing around to make sure no one was overhearing them. "I'm going to guess he's the son of You Know Who."

Harry nodded his head once quickly and looked Theo in the eye. "This is not public knowledge, yet, so keep it to yourself. It will probably come out sooner rather than later, but it's not up to us to share."

"I get it," Theo mumbled. "But you spent time with him…and he never tried to hurt you?"

Blinking, Harry turned to stare at Theo, finally understanding why Theo kept hammering on about Tom. Theo was genuinely worried Voldemort's son might try to hurt or kill Harry. "Tom is nothing like his father, I promise." Which was the absolute truth.

"Good," Theo sighed and he sounded very relieved indeed. Without any further questions, Theo went back to his own primroses and Harry joined the conversation the rest were having about who Ravenclaw's Diadem belonged to.

"It belongs to Hogwarts," Ernie insisted.

Harry disagreed. "It never belonged to Hogwarts in the first place, but it was Rowena Ravenclaw's personal property until her daughter Helena stole it and ran away to Albania."

"How do you know this?" Blaise asked with a curious tilt of his head. Harry got the distinct impression that of late Blaise had wizened up to Harry being very well informed on all manner of subjects. Perhaps a little too well informed. He needed to watch himself better when it came to the things he shared with his friends.

"The Grey Lady, Ravenclaw's ghost is Helena Ravenclaw," Harry said while looking Blaise right in the eye, his face giving nothing away. "And our ghost, the Bloody Baron is the bloke Rowena sent to get Helena and her diadem back, but the baron accidentally killed Helena and then in remorse killed himself, meaning the diadem was lost in Albania for centuries." Harry shrugged and smiled at the others. "Neither are the most talkative ghosts, but they do answer questions occasionally."

"Wow." Justin looked as though he just realized he might actually be living in an Indiana Jones movie filled with adventures and faraway locations.

After Herbology they had charms, where Neville sat with them again but since Flitwick spent most of the hour lecturing they didn't have much time to talk. But since it was Wednesday they had the afternoon off and after a quick lunch everyone met at their usual table in the library, eager to talk over all the happenings of the past few days.

"Harry, can you believe any of what the Prophet has been writing about poor Gilderoy Lockhart," Daphne asked, her expression filled with sorrow as she sat down across from Harry.

"Yes, I can," Harry said with a neutral expression, not wanting to upset his friend any further than she obviously already was. "Sorry, Daphne, I understand you're a fan, but I've read a few of his books and they don't add up."

"Thank you!" Tracey said while throwing a hand in the air and giving Daphne a very significant look. "See? I'm not the only one who noticed things weren't right."

Hannah's bottom lip trembled. "But why would he lie to everyone like that? How could he do that?"

"Because all he wanted was fame and fortune," Neville said quietly and quickly snapped his mouth shut when everyone looked at him at once.

"You're right," Harry said to show him some support. "I believe Lockhart wanted fame and fortune without actually having to work for it. And that was more important to him than how his fans would feel when the truth finally came out."

"That is so wrong," Hannah whispered and wiped a tear away that rolled down her cheek. Susan placed a comforting arm around her friend. They talked about Lockhart for a few moments longer until finally the subject shifted to the two unknown gentlemen who had discovered a lost treasure.

Daphne had the Daily Prophet spread out in front of her and was examining the picture carefully. "He's very handsome. Well, they both are, but this one," and she tapped a finger against Tom's picture, "especially."

"Let me see," Tracey said, leaning over just as everyone else did the same, all staring at Tom's picture. Harry, in the meantime, choked on his own saliva and coughed violently while wondering if children were supposed to notice these things about grown-ups, or had he just been completely oblivious in his first life, which was entirely possible.

"You disagree?" Daphne demanded while she narrowed her eyes.

"Er…" And Harry, who had literally lost the ability to form coherent words when first confronted with Tom's naked wetness, shrugged his shoulders and pretended to read his charms textbook with great care. "I hadn't noticed."

"Harry's a boy," Hannah said, as though that explained everything.

"I notice he's handsome," Justin said a little defensively.

"Well, you're maybe less of a boy," Hannah said wisely.

"What?" Justin looked between everyone else in great confusion, as though not entirely sure if he should be insulted or not.

"So, about that charms essay," Theo said loudly. Blaise was watching everyone else with great amusement, but Neville jumped at the opportunity to change the subject.

"Yes, the essay. What books do you think we should read to find out more about unlocking charms?" Neville asked, already getting up from his seat. Theo did the same and together they all but fled into the stacks. Harry envied them but at the same time he desperately wanted to hear what else his friends had to say about Tom, though he wasn't sure why.

No more earth-shattering comments were made, however, and they all finished their homework and went to dinner where they enjoyed shepherd's pie with chocolate pudding for dessert.

"How are you?" Harry asked eagerly once Tom answered his mirror later that night. Harry wasn't dressed in his pyjamas yet, since they still had astronomy at midnight, but he was ensconced in his bed with the curtains closed for a little nap, or so he told his friends.

"I'm fine," Tom assured him quickly. He did look good, well-rested. "Happy the news is out there now and we can begin the next phase of our plan."

"Yeah, I bet. Dumbledore spilled an entire mug of coffee over his beard when he opened the paper," Harry said, grinning like a loon. "It was one of the funniest things I've ever seen."

"I look forward to seeing that memory." Tom's eyes were shining as he gave Harry a soft smile.

"What do you think Dumbledore is going to do now?" Harry asked. All throughout the day he'd experienced a low level of anxiety at the idea of Dumbledore going to hunt Tom down or something silly like that. He knew Tom was more than capable of duelling Dumbledore and coming out of it in one piece, but Harry still worried.

"Hm." Tom leaned back while briefly glancing up, obviously giving that question some thought. "Knowing Dumbledore, he'll call his Order and then he'll go about convincing everyone he can I'm actually Voldemort."

"That's not good," Harry whispered, the low level of anxiety in his belly increasing dramatically.

Tom gave Harry a very knowing look. "We have plans for that, my dear. Stop worrying so much."

"I can't help it," Harry muttered, glancing down at his lap, feeling oddly embarrassed at being called out like that. "During dinner I was thinking about this and I realized Dumbledore might get the ministry to raid your house. He did that with Death Eaters in the past, right? So maybe you should put the Gaunt shack under a Fidelius charm so you can store all your illegal stuff there and you'll have a safe house Dumbledore can't get to." Harry gave Tom a pleading look to just go along with that so he'd be safe and Harry could sleep better.

"Excellent plan," Tom said with a teasing grin. "Except the Gaunt shack is currently a trap for Dumbledore with a fake Peverell ring cursed to hell and back waiting for him."

"Oh, bugger." Harry bit his lip. He'd completely forgotten about that.

"But rest assured, my dear, that I have a safe house that's under a Fidelius and I store all my illegal possessions there." Tom's smirk was quite smug as he winked at Harry. "I'll take you there during the holidays, so it can function as a safe house for you, too."

Harry released a deep sigh in sheer relief. "Who else knows about it?"

"No one yet, but I'm considering letting Barty in on the secret. Having a secure safe house would be a boon for him, too."

"Yeah," Harry agreed easily. Barty was, in theory, still an escaped convict who should be serving out a life sentence in Azkaban, even though the whole world believed him dead. You never knew what amount of truth might come out in the future at the most inopportune time.

"Other than that," Tom continued while looking like he thought Harry's concern was both incredibly endearing yet endlessly entertaining. "I've officially claimed Riddle Manor as my legal property at the muggle government and I've registered it at the ministry as a wizarding residence to connect me to the floo network. There's nothing illegal in the house whatsoever, so the ministry can raid it as much as they like. But if they do, I will sick the solicitor I keep on retainer on them for performing a search without just cause."

"Okay, so you're prepared, I get it," Harry said with a quiet chuckle, still feeling oddly embarrassed by his concern for his soulmate.

"And should Dumbledore pull a Sirius Black on me and chuck me in Azkaban without a trial or any other nonsense like that, then Dorus and Lucius will raise a stink and inform my solicitor and get me out at once. Now you can really stop worrying, darling."

"Fine." Harry rubbed a hand across his face. "Ugh. I'm tired and I still have a class."

"I never understood why they insist the lower years take astronomy in the middle of the night instead of just teaching it during the day by using maps or projections and perhaps having a few late night classes to learn how to work a telescope," Tom said with a pinched look, as though discussing something that had been bothering him for a long time.

"Yeah, be glad your Hogwarts days are over." Harry inwardly shook himself to wake himself up. Now that he had assurances and reassurances that Tom had plans on how to deal with Dumbledore and his anxiety lessened significantly, he was suddenly exhausted.

"Yours could be, too, my dear." Tom's look was almost challenging. "Just say the word and you can continue your life as the adult you actually are."

"Tempting." Harry did indeed find that offer tempting, every time Tom made it. But he loved Hogwarts, and he especially loved experiencing Hogwarts without acting like Dumbledore's little marionette, so he truly wasn't ready yet to call it quits. "But I'll put up with ungodly class hours for a while longer."

"Very well," Tom easily agreed. "Just know that no matter what Dumbledore throws at us, we're prepared to deal with it."

And Harry kept that in mind the rest of the evening and the following day. That was a Thursday and they had a full day of classes and every time Harry started worrying about his soulmate again he reminded himself of what Tom had told him.

They were prepared. They would be fine. Stop worrying.

Of course, nothing out of the ordinary happened that day. The most exciting thing that occurred was that right before dinner Harry received a package from Miss Elderflower containing an advanced copy of her latest publication, titled 'Harry Potter and the Centaur's Trial'. It was set during fictional Harry's first year at Hogwarts, where he ended up making friends with some centaurs, according to the synopsis on the back.

"Are you receiving books about yourself?" Draco asked with wide eyes, sounding like he'd just discovered Harry's deepest, darkest secret and realized he could now share that with the whole school. "Do you enjoy reading fiction featuring a better version of yourself or something?"

"Don't be absurd, Draco," Harry said in his best snooty tone while raising his chin up at him. "I receive these to approve them, since they won't be published without my consent. And I like seeing them published, since that earns me lots of gold." Smirking, Harry tucked the package into his bag. "It's just business, but I don't expect someone like you to understand that."

"Someone like me?" Draco sputtered in quiet outrage. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"The fact that you don't even understand that rather makes my point," Harry bullshitted a mile a minute. He had no clue why Draco would or wouldn't understand that, he just enjoyed riling the boy up.

And when later that night, Harry got out parchment and quill and wrote to Miss Elderflower, suggesting that perhaps her next book, set in fictional Harry's second year, could be about Harry discovering Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets and befriending the basilisk living inside of it, well, that was Harry's own business and no one needed to know about it.

Friday arrived with lots of rain and wind, but that didn't keep Marcus from putting them through an hour of rigorous Quidditch training first thing in the morning. And even though Harry wasn't allowed to fly any school matches for the rest of the year he still enjoyed the time he got to spend on his broomstick and physically work off some stress and anxiety.

After classes they met in the library to finish their homework before the weekend began, and after dinner they attended the Slytherin house meeting which was short and to the point, which left them with plenty of time to make their way to the Club House for their second Culture Club meeting.

Most students had brought something to share concerning Christmas and Yule and they spent their evening enjoying lots of delicious treats while listening to holiday songs and putting up both muggle and wizarding decorations around the room. Meanwhile Harry slipped in a few titbits of ritual knowledge he'd read in Regulus' notes about how Yule used to be celebrated before the ministry decided to ban those rituals and celebrations.

"Yule is traditionally celebrated for three nights around midwinter night," Harry said as he helped Padma and Millicent put up evergreen garlands around the windows. "They would sacrifice livestock and use the blood they collected to sprinkle across evergreen branches while chanting spells to ensure the Wild Hunt would pass them by and the draugar would not find them while the night was longest. The meat from the livestock was later consumed during a great feast together with lots of ale to welcome the fact that from then on the nights would get shorter and shorter again and the Wild Hunt would not occur for another year."

"What's a wild hunt?" Megan asked.

"Muggles would call it a bad omen. A ghostly chase through the darkness that usually preceded a plague or catastrophe," Harry explained patiently. He had been fascinated when reading all this stuff in Regulus' books and he was truly happy to share it all with others. "But we know for a fact that it is a hunt during the longest nights of the year led by various psychopomps consisting of the souls of the dead with the fey urging them on, trying to derail them and keep them from moving to the afterlife. Any souls the fey catch, they turn into draugar. The living dead, bound to haunt this earth forever while being tormented by the fey. That is why wizards and witches make such a big thing out of getting the Wild Hunt to pass them by, since the fey are tricky creatures you don't want to be seen by, even outside of a Wild Hunt. Or perhaps especially outside a Wild Hunt."

"Why not?" Justin asked from where he was showing a collection of Victorian Christmas cards to Anthony, Seamus and Dean.

"Because the fey will trick you into doing something stupid," Theo said with a quiet snort. "Like give up your firstborn or your magic."

"I read that fairies are just small magical creatures that are used as decorations," Hermione said in her customary argumentative tone.

"Fairies and doxies and pixies are all small, fairly harmless members of the fey," Harry said firmly. "But they are not the only members. The larger ones are very intelligent and not at all fond of humans, muggle or magical. So yeah, it is in your own best interest to not draw their attention, especially not during a Wild Hunt. Should you find yourself as part of one, you likely won't survive and your soul probably won't make it to the afterlife."

"I think I prefer the muggle version of this holiday," Megan said with a small shudder.

"Whichever you prefer," Harry pointed out with a kind smile while he looked around the room. "It's still important to know these things. The fey are real and they do harm humans, and not knowing how to avoid them on nights when they are most powerful is just setting yourself up for disaster."

"But they banned this," Seamus said in a rather questioning tone. "At least that's what my nan said. That they used to do these rituals but the ministry banned it."

"I was told the same," Susan agreed.

"I'm aware," Harry said with a careless shrug. "But that makes you wonder why they banned these kinds of rituals that are meant to protect us."

"Because of her," Daphne said, pointing a finger at Megan. "People like her. Muggle-raised. You saw her reaction."

"Let's not accuse each other. None of us in this room has banned anything," Harry pointed out quickly while offering Megan a reassuring smile. "But I've heard as well that to appease those not raised amongst rituals such as this one, they simply banned them instead of perhaps educate those that needed to be taught."

"That's not fair," Hermione said with a deep frown. "I'm muggle-raised but I'd be happy to learn magical rituals such as this one if they offer real protection from magical threats."

"Yeah, that's true," Megan quietly agreed. "It's just a lot to take in."

"And that's why we have this club," Harry happily remined everyone. "To help each other learn and understand. And it's also ten minute to curfew so it's time to call it an evening."

There was a chorus of disappointed complaints about curfew and stupid school rules but everyone got up and gathered their belongings.

"Good lesson," Theo whispered as he stood beside Harry while everyone left in small groups.

"Thanks. And no one freaked out or got upset at us for mentioning highly illegal rituals, so I'll count that as a win." Harry winked at Theo, who smirked in return.

"All this talk about souls and dead people," Blaise complained while he stuffed another Christmas cookie Dean had brought along in his mouth. He chewed loudly. "Perhaps a more cheerful subject next week, Harry."

Shaking his head, Harry followed his friends out of the room and had just closed the door when the mirror in his pocket grew warm. Tom never contacted him unless he really needed to talk to him. Harry was always the one to initiate contact in the evening, since Tom spent most evenings alone at home and it was Harry who needed to find privacy to call him.

"I'm going to find a bathroom real quick," Harry told his friends, waving them on. "Don't wait or you'll get caught out after curfew. I'll see you later." And without waiting for a reply, Harry rushed towards the nearest loo, made sure he was alone while casting a few privacy charms and took the mirror out of his pocket.

"Everything all right?" Harry demanded the second he saw Tom's face. Something was different. Not Tom himself, but the background was not Tom's bedroom or office or drawing room. It looked familiar, though.

"Harry, my dear, can you slip away right now? Meet me in the Shrieking Shack?" Tom asked and now Harry recognized the room Tom was standing in. It was the main room of the Shrieking Shack.

"Meet you? Now?" Harry asked stupidly, since his brain for some reason suddenly had problems processing simple information.

Tom nodded and looked entirely amused by Harry's response. "I have Dorus' pensieve with me and would like to show you this afternoon's emergency Wizengamot session that Dumbledore arranged so he could publicly accuse me of being Voldemort."