Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Harry's third year passed relatively quietly. The Weasley twins had gifted him with a rather curious map that showed him where everyone on Hogwarts grounds was at any given time-although it didn't show the Chamber of Secrets. Harry had kept the map a secret and managed to keep out of trouble, not even using the map to try and sneak into Hogsmeade. Dumbledore made sure of that. He always seemed to be in Dumbledore's office learning more about Tom Riddle's life whenever a Hogsmeade weekend arrived.
He managed to learn how to produce a patronus charm to help him deal with the dementors that sometimes strayed into the castle grounds and found out from Professor Lupin exactly why everyone was saying that some mass murderer had broken out of Azkaban; to supposedly kill him. He'd kept his wits about him that year, ensuring that he always triple locked his curtains at night and made a conscious effort to check his map as frequently as possible. The last thing he wanted was some madman after him to manage to sneak up on him.
It wasn't until Snape set an essay on werewolves whilst covering one of Professor Lupin's classes that Harry had realized something different was happening. And when he checked and double checked himself, it dawned on him that he was right. A werewolf was teaching students at Hogwarts. Granted, the man was nice and he did seem to be fully aware of himself and his surroundings. Besides, Harry had seen Snape bring Professor Lupin a steaming goblet of something when they had been discussing Harry learning a patronus charm. According to his research, the wolfsbane potion steamed in that exact shade, which only cemented his theory further.
Harry had put the issue from his mind until later that year when he happened to catch a name on his map that he hadn't seen before. Peter Pettigrew. He didn't quite know if he should tell Professor Dumbledore about it, but he figured the worst that could happen is his map would be taken away and he'd have to serve a detention or two. Deciding to err on the side of caution, he went to tell Dumbledore.
Dumbledore was stricken when Harry told him about the map and the name he'd seen on it. His jaw had quite thoroughly dropped. He handed over the map when Dumbledore asked and pointed to the Gryffindor tower where he'd seen the name last. Currently, the name was moving from the fifth floor to the fourth.
He was told to stay in Dumbledore's office and sat in the offered chair next to Fawkes's perch. He spent nearly an hour in that office by himself, slowly stroking the bird's warm feathers while he trilled a soft song. It was relaxing, and no wonder why Dumbledore spent so much time in his office.
Dumbledore had come back into his office a little while later with the minister and patted Harry on the shoulder before rifling through his desk and handing Harry a book. With a twinkle in his eye, he praised Harry for coming to him to locate a rather interesting fairy tale book that he'd checked out of the library for some light reading, winked at him and sent him on his way. Once he left the office, he opened the book to the first page where his map lay nestled within the pages.
Smiling, he made his way back to his dorm.
The next day, headlines had splashed every paper stating that the madman on the loose was officially pardoned by the minister on grounds of a misunderstanding. The true story about a man named Peter Pettigrew hit the papers, the truth having been weaseled out of him within Hogwarts itself before he'd turned into a rat and disappeared, much to the ministry's frustration. Sirius Black had been cleared of all charges.
Harry was asked to join Dumbledore for a cup of tea that morning where he was told that Sirius Black was actually his godfather.
"Well that's brilliant, but...does that mean I have to leave the castle for the summers now?" Dumbledore shook his head.
"You see...the ministry sent him to St. Mungo's-that's the wizarding version of a hospital in London-to be evaluated after he spent such a long time in Azkaban. They deemed him unfit to raise you; however, he can come and visit you if you'd like that." Harry agreed to a trial run, set to happen the first weekend of school being out for the summer. He was tentatively excited about meeting his godfather. A part of him was terrified that he'd turn out to be similar to the Dursley family, but he knew the odds of that were low.
The first thing he could think of when he saw Sirius Black was that the man was the type of roguishly handsome that would make most girls swoon. He was just this side of unkept and threw around his smile with ease. Harry liked him, but it didn't take long before he realized that Sirius was having some hard times adjusting to life outside of prison.
He'd start talking about Harry's father and then he'd get this faraway look in his eyes before shaking his head and changing the subject. Twice when he'd talked about Harry's mother Sirius had called Harry 'James' and then again just before they parted ways.
Harry turned to Dumbledore after he left, trying to blink through the tears. It was hard, seeing someone so stuck in the past that they couldn't separate then from now. And somehow, it was harder being called 'James' instead of 'Harry' regardless of how similar everyone said they looked. Suddenly, he wasn't so sure he could handle that. He missed his parents terribly, despite the fact that he hadn't really gotten to know them at all.
"Professor? Do I really look so much like my dad that he can't tell the difference?" Dumbledore offered him a cup of fresh tea and sat back in his chair looking more tired than Harry had ever seen him. Dumbledore had done his best to redirect Sirius when he started to get that far-off look, but he hadn't been able to fully prevent Sirius from thinking Harry was James the entire visit.
"No, my boy. Not enough that anyone would mistake you for him, and especially not with such regularity. James's jaw was wider than yours and his nose was a bit bigger. He kept his hair shorter than you do and his eyes were hazel, not the brilliant green that yours are."
"And...did he wear glasses?" Dumbledore just shook his head.
"Not until he was much older than you are and even then it was only if he was reading." Harry cried that night for a man that couldn't tell the difference between him and his father.
Dumbledore and Harry went over Tom Riddle's first year at school that summer and had managed to get halfway through his second with relatively little happening. The boy had managed to befriend everyone and went from being ostracized at the orphanage to being revered in Hogwarts. He took to the attention like a fish takes to water; elegantly and with no effort whatsoever.
The boy excelled at everything and managed to impress every teacher he came across. He was exceedingly polite, extremely smart and remained cool and collected through any situation thrown his way. He did wonderfully at transfiguration, something that Dumbledore had confessed he had been quite proud of. According to the headmaster, he had fancied himself the reason for that at the time. Tom had put forth an incredible amount of research into the subject and seemed riveted whenever the two conversed about new challenging topics for him to tackle.
It was a bit eerie, seeing a younger Dumbledore teaching in McGonagall's classroom. And it made Harry appreciate the white hair and beard the man supported now, it suited him much better than his natural hair colour he had sported back when Tom was in school.
The memories contained anything and everything Dumbledore had been able to get his hands onto. From study sessions late into the night to classroom subjects to dinners and somehow the brilliant man had even gotten a memory of Tom getting lost and somehow managing to find a secret entrance to the owlery from the sixth floor.
As a side project, Harry had convinced Dumbledore to teach him how to alter the map. It was difficult magic, hard to contain and even harder to manipulate, but by the end of the summer he'd managed to add the secret passageway that Tom Riddle had found to the owlery. He planned on adding the Chamber of Secrets in the future as well, but he didn't have the time that summer. There were simply too many memories to go through.
The second half of Tom Riddle's second year at school is when things started to get more interesting. He'd somehow managed to convince the potions teacher, a Professor Slughorn, to give him a pass to the restricted section in the Hogwarts library and had taken the liberty of reading every single book he could on dark magic. Harry had watched the boy grow obsessed over the course of hours and from then on, the boy named Tom Riddle was hooked.
Harry had never been around dark magic before, but Dumbledore had promised to show him what it was like to be around it when he was a bit older and more experienced with magic. If he was honest about it, he was really looking forward to experiencing something new. But he was equally dreading it as well. He'd watched how easily Tom had slipped down that slope and it made him wonder if he'd be tempted to do the same.
It wasn't until school was about to start for Harry's fourth year when he had finally watched the last memory for Tom's fourth year. Dumbledore had offered Harry a break from the memories, citing that they'd seen much more than he had planned on, but Harry was hooked. He felt that he needed to know more, he was enraptured by Tom's life. How could such a misunderstood child go from being an outcast to being admired to the terrifying dark lord that everyone knew him as? How could you go from wanting nothing more than a friend to torture, rape and death without so much as blinking an eye? Was it merely the attraction that dark magic had over him, or was it something more sinister?
All Harry knew is that everyone around Tom had failed him. The more he watched, the more easily he could recognize the signs. The flash of hurt in his eyes when people talked to him just to get help with their homework. It was there when he'd be left alone and his shoulders would fall just a bit. You could practically taste the disappointment whenever Tom's friends opted to hang out and not tell him about it. All he wanted was friends and the only way people seemed to want to hang out with him was if he was offering them something.
By the time Harry's friends arrived on the train for their fourth year, Harry knew exactly how Tom turned into Voldemort. He wanted companionship and loyalty and the only way he saw that he could get it was if people were coerced into giving it and, after all, it's easier to keep people around if they're afraid of you. He couldn't help but wonder just how differently things could have gone for the boy if someone had just decided to try to be friends with him.