Tom walked with a silent burning rage. By the time he'd left Snape's office, classes had already started and the corridors were empty. It took little time for him to reach and climb the stone steps of their tower.
The grate slipped away with a sharp swipe of his wand and the door flung open, its hinges protesting with a loud creak.
Harry was sitting on their bed, fresh bandages wound up his exposed chest. The darkness consumed his absent heart, swirling against his dead and scarred skin. The diary piece lay on the bed in front of him.
"Tom-"
Harry snatched the parchment up and attempted to pull a shirt over his head. Tom made it to Harry first, the fury pounding in his veins as he seized Harry's scabbed wrists.
Tom took a single breath, his voice came out dripping in venom.
"Give me it."
Harry hesitated, the fear in good eye apparent. He obeyed. His fist uncurling around the scrunched parchment.
Without so much of as a second thought, Tom withdrew Harry's wand, seized the diary piece and walked towards the fire place.
Harry gasped, dropping his shirt and scrabbling forwards.
"Tom, what are you doing-"
"Sending a message."
A fire like no other burst into the grate. It was ferocious, alive almost, white hot and twisting in unimaginable shapes. Ashes and smoke, mixed with the most terrifying screams erupted as soon as the flames took hold, eager to consume the fragment of Riddle's soul. Deep black ink seeped from within, pooling out of the fireplace and across the stone floor.
Harry's darkness imploded as he stopped short, the black twisting shadow gouged inwards mercilessly. The temperature dropped several degrees despite the raging inferno.
Tom's eyes blinked shut once, his anger holding his fear at bay. He flicked his wand sharply causing the wild flames to extinguish immediately as if it had been nothing more than a gentle fire burning. Tom wound his hand back around Harry's wrist, knowing that his grasp was painfully tight.
"What Riddle did to you was unacceptable."
Immediate confusion seeped across their bond. Tom refrained from cursing. Harry truly had no idea.
"I'm not talking about making you demented, that much is obvious," Tom said. "I mean before that-"
Riddle's actions had been dangerous and very risky, for Harry left to his own free will could have destroyed everything Riddle was trying to achieve. It had almost happened as well, on multiple occasions, but still Riddle had persisted.
"Before?" Harry's brow furrowed and he bit his decayed lip.
"You would have been the first real thing Riddle would have connected with in 50 years, so alive and tempting. From the way you spoke about Riddle, I thought-" Tom's voice caught in his throat. "I thought you had been safe and happy, I didn't think you had actually bonded."
"Of course we bonded, I gave Lyra to Riddle, I-"
Harry drew back, surprised to see angry tears on Tom's face.
"Not what you did, Harry. You were dependent on Riddle in every way, and he gave you nothing in return."
"I wouldn't have survived without Riddle," Harry said. "What else would he had given me?"
"He should have acted like your dæmon," Tom snapped, magic flaring. The ink pot that had been sat on their desk exploded, glass and ink flying everywhere, joining the already black stain on the floor from the remnants from Riddle's diary piece. "He should have done more-"
"He showed me his memories," Harry said, "I saw Nagini-"
Tom's look was thunderous.
"Riddle could have given you stability, completely, but he left you with scraps, with barely enough to function."
"Riddle made it clear from the start he was only using me-"
Tom pressed his hand against Harry's forehead and Harry melted into him, overwhelmed by the comfort coming from Tom.
"I can manipulate your emotions, can take away all your fears," Tom said. "Riddle has the same capability and he would not have hesitated to use it if he had something to gain. Stop making excuses for him."
"Riddle tried-" Harry stammered through the overwhelming sense of warmth. "I wouldn't let him-"
Tom laughed at this but there was no amusement in his eyes. Instead, he lent forwards, his own magic snapping around Harry who sunk even further into Tom's embrace.
"You had the illusion of control," Tom said. "I could make you do anything I desired, Harry. And you'd want to do it, and you would have been happy. You'd have given Lyra to Riddle on day one if he'd wanted."
Harry clung to Tom, despite the complete confusion across his face.
"I-I don't understand-"
Tom sighed and he withdrew much to Harry's dismay.
"Do you remember how I treated you after Lyra left, when Voldemort was with Quirrell and watching our every actions?" Tom asked.
Harry nodded stiffly, understanding instant as his fingers curled, and genuine pain flicked across their bond.
"I gave you just enough to function and nothing more," Tom continued. "I could have stabilised you completely, but I didn't. That is the difference between what Riddle did to you, and what he could have offered. Ginny had more of a stable connection with Riddle than you because he wasn't holding back, and that was even when Galian was present."
"If he could have influenced me so easily, why didn't he?" Harry asked quietly. "Riddle could have gone after Nagini sooner."
Tom drew back as immediate comprehension dawned. The reality of it was terrifying, yet so obvious he should have known it from the start.
"You were Riddle's back up plan," Tom whispered. "Any link you had with Riddle should have been superficial, but if he could never obtain Nagini than he wanted a real connection. Someone who genuinely cared for him, rather than being with him because they had no free will."
Harry looked genuinely lost. He attempted to twist away, but Tom tugged him closer and down onto the bed.
"Harry-"
"Are you angry our connection is real?" Harry asked, his gaze averted. Tom wrapped his arms around Harry, pressing against his ashened skin.
"No, never with you, Harry."
"Then why do you care? Riddle already did the worst he could to me, why does knowing how he treated me before change anything?"
The question burned inside Tom. The fact that Harry even had to ask.
"There was no reason for Riddle to leave you like that," Tom said, arms tightening around Harry. "Turning you demented, I despise, but at least I understand why it happened. Voldemort needed you for his rebirth but Riddle's treatment of you was just plain unnecessary. It was cruel."
"Not if he wanted to keep me," Harry muttered. "You said it yourself."
There was something else. Something worse cutting through Harry's simmering anguish. The question still came out a pained whisper as Harry scratched his fingers deep into his decayed skin causing black welts to ooze.
"If our connection was real, why did Riddle throw me away?"
Tom picked up the shirt and slipped it over Harry's head, before tugging Harry's hands into his own.
There was no good answer Tom could give. Harry had always been convinced that Riddle didn't care. Tom sighed, mist forming and drawing towards Harry.
"Because Riddle hasn't given up on Nagini," Tom said.
Harry's shoulder's slumped as he nodded.
"He said he found her."
"What?" Tom's voice must have come out harsher than he intended for Harry tilted his head up, his dead eye swirling.
"The diary piece. It was the first message Riddle sent me. He said he found Nagini."
"What else did he write?" Tom demanded.
Harry shook his head blankly.
"Just that he found her. Does that mean something?"
Tom's hand tightened around Harry's. He could not hide the intense fear which simmered across their bond.
"Riddle will never obtain Nagini." Tom's expression hardened. "If he's found her then he can't deny it any longer-"
From the way Harry's shoulder's tensed and the fact that the room plunged deeper into cold, he had clearly understood as well.
"That's why Riddle is hunting Lyra. Riddle wants me again," Harry said.
Tom nodded, jaw tightening.
"Why?" Harry's voice was stiff. "I'm damaged now, why would he throw me away only to change his mind?"
"There's more too it though," Tom said bitterly. "Riddle is hunting Lyra on Voldemort's orders."
Harry didn't say anything immediately. The same thoughts as Tom's were clearly going through his head. After a short while he took a harrowing breath.
"Voldemort will separate us," Harry whispered.
Tom nodded, because it was too difficult to say anything. He let go of Harry and shifted back slightly, holding onto his remaining composure.
"Go."
Tom's eyes snapped open but Harry wasn't looking at him.
"You don't need to be here, not all the time. You shouldn't have to suffer my influence," Harry said.
"I'm not going anywhere," Tom hissed, his breath misting in front of him.
"Tom, it's fine-"
"I'm staying here."
Harry fumbled with the bed sheets, struggling to hold his composure.
"I want you to be happy, Tom. How can you do that when I'm constantly consuming all that is good?"
"I choose to be by your side," Tom said fiercely, shifting closer. He twisted down, so that he peered up at Harry who was still avoiding Tom's gaze. "It's where I belong."
Harry stiffened as he took a shaky shallow breath.
Tom tried to wrap his arms around Harry, but Harry pulled away abruptly and stood.
"Harry-"
It took only a moment for Harry to cross to their desk and retrieve a bottle full of black swirling liquid from the drawer. Tom recognised the forbidden potion at once.
"You've not been taking your potions," Tom whispered. "Harry, I can't control your impulsions around dæmons without it-"
"When you fell from the broomstick I didn't even care," Harry looked down at the glass vial, twirling it between his ashen fingers. "I don't want to lose myself again, not like that."
"There was nothing you could do given the circumstance," Tom said. "The dementors-"
"I shouldn't have lost control, I shouldn't have been tempted," Harry's voice was bitterly angry, his dead eye swirling. "I haven't been trying hard enough."
"You've done more than anyone could ask given the circumstance," Tom said.
Harry laughed coldly.
"No. I've relied on you too much and you know it. You're always telling me I need to practice Occlumency, and I never do."
Harry held the potion out in front of him, a hard expression on his withered face.
"I am capable of changing and I will do it for you, Tom."
The potion slipped from Harry's fingers. It would have smashed had Tom not caught it with a flick of his wand.
"Harry-"
Tom shifted from the bed and pressed the bottle into Harry's shaking hands.
"Drink," Tom urged.
Harry clutched at it, looking pleadingly at Tom.
"I can do this, Tom. I'm still me. I-I don't want you to be afraid-"
"You will master control," Tom whispered. "One day you won't even need me, but for now we can't take any chances."
"That's exactly why I need to do this. If I rely on others then what future can I have that's independent and separate from me being demented?"
Tom didn't respond immediately, instead he uncorked the vial and supporting Harry's hands, moved it up to press against Harry's ashen lips.
"Please, Harry," Tom said, grip tightening to hold Harry close. "You need dæmons to sustain yourself, I can't ensure you won't attack anyone otherwise."
Harry jerked his head at this, his lips pressing tight together.
Tom lowered his arm, pulling the potion away from Harry's mouth.
"Trust me, Harry."
Tom took Harry's clammy hand and pressed the cold bottle into it.
"Tom-"
"I won't let you fail again, ever."
Slowly, Harry pressed the liquid to his lips and gulped.
Tom smiled sadly and slipped his hand into Harry's.
"Come on, let's go to class. The longer you leave it the worse it will be."
Riddle was sat upon a large bolder, squinting out in the mid-morning sunshine. His view provided a good vantage point of the small wizarding village which ran through the valley below. The coming and goings of the people and their dæmons was fairly infrequent and he had long grown bored of the mundaneness.
His sole attention was captured by his diary that rested in his lap. It had been weeks since Riddle had touched Lyra, and longer still since Potter had written to him, yet now over the past couple of days, the words had seeped through the page at a rather satisfying pace. Potter was obviously alone, for a short period at least, and Riddle was keen to take full advantage.
The boy had been distraught, his words rushed and blotchy, frantic incoherent scribbles desperate for some form of attention and comfort. The latest message however, Riddle wasn't quite sure how to respond.
What is Lyra like?
Riddle stared at the page. Ones own soul was the most precious thing, yet Potter was oblivious. Lyra had certainly been something. Her fur had been coarse and matted, claws blunt and broken. She was practically wild, yet Riddle hated to admit that he ached to hold her again.
His own fingers twitched, as if tracing the memory of Nagini's iridescent scales. Despite it being half a century, he could still remember her every detail, and how she had always been there, until she wasn't.
Lyra had been the first dæmon that Riddle had interacted with since he'd been ripped from Nagini.
There was no answer that Riddle could give that Potter shouldn't already know.
A loud crack resounded behind him, breaking his thoughts.
Without turning to great the new arrival, Riddle snapped the diary closed and withdrew his new wand. He moved off the rock and straightened himself.
Lord Voldemort stepped forwards, black cloak swirling against his skeletal form.
"You've located Black?" Voldemort hissed.
Riddle dipped his head slightly, twirling his wand idly between his fingers.
"He's held up a couple miles south of here."
Voldemort surveyed the peaceful surroundings.
"Good. How many do you need?"
Riddle's lips curled at this.
"I am perfectly capable."
"Perhaps," Voldemort hissed as his red eyes flashed. "But there is too much at stake to leave anything to chance. Lyra has escaped you too many times before."
Riddle scowled, his fingers tightening around his wand.
"Death Eaters will not help, Black's reluctant to use any magic around her, he's been travelling without it for the last few weeks."
"That did not deter him before," Voldemort said, his red eyes flashing.
Riddle remembered clearly. It was because of Black that the aurors had almost ruined everything, if Harry had been lost then Riddle's options would have equally been destroyed.
"Fine, just to ensure Black doesn't do anything foolish-"
It happened abruptly, with no prior warning.
Riddle froze, his wand tumbling from his grip as coldness like no other burned inside of him.
The pain was deep. A hollow emptiness that could not be filled.
Riddle staggered, his fingers clutching his chest. He fell, knees slamming into the dirt as his eyes widened in realisation.
Tom wouldn't dare.
Yet there was no other explanation. Riddle knew it, he understood so clearly. Tom had destroyed the piece he had gifted Harry.
And then a fierce anger, almost as prominent as his aching soul, consumed him. Riddle had left Tom safe inside the chamber, he would have expected the same courtesy.
Voldemort stood before him, watching impassively.
Riddle reached out, his hand clutching at empty air.
"Nagini-"
"She cannot help you."
The absence twisted inside of him.
"I will make Tom pay for this," Riddle hissed.
Voldemort's fierce red eyes narrowed.
"You are to leave him unharmed."
"He attacked a piece of you," Riddle hissed. "He has to pay for this."
"Any punishment Tom receives will remain my decision alone," Voldemort said.
Riddle jerked his head.
"How can you be so calm about this?"
"You are a fool if you did not expect this to happen," Voldemort hissed. "You put a piece of yourself within reach of Tom and you expected him not to retaliate?"
"I am a piece of you," Riddle snapped. "How can you allow this?"
The pure look of deadly amusement that crossed Voldemort's face was enough for Riddle to quieten.
"If your plan succeeds, I will obtain something far more valuable than any piece you have to offer," Voldemort hissed.
Riddle's anger dimmed, the hole inside of him burned.
"You do intend to use Tom then?" Riddle said, a slight edge to his voice.
"That is not for me to decide," Voldemort said. "You will have to convince Potter."
Riddle's expression darkened.
"You said-"
"I promised nothing," Voldemort hissed, eyes flashing before a cold smile spread across his lipless mouth. "And you were so confident you could convince the boy before-"
"If I will gain nothing from this then why should I bring Potter to you?" Riddle demanded.
Voldemort smirk widened further.
"You risk everything on one thing only. Knowing that only Tom stands between you and the boy will not stop you from proceeding."
Riddle glared at Voldemort, his fists curling despite himself. He knew it was true.
"I've already proved that I can come between them."
Voldemort did not say anything to this, instead he stepped away, making to disapparate. He paused, fixing Riddle were a hard look.
"You have one job to do tonight," Voldemort hissed. "Do not fail me."
Riddle was silent, his contempt building. At the dangerous warning flash from Voldemort's eyes, he nodded once, jaw tight.
Professor Lupin was well into the defence lesson by the time Harry and Tom arrived. The Gryffindors were all crowded around desks with a dozen textbooks open and wands out.
It didn't take long for Harry's presence to be noticed. Several nearby dæmons scurried away, hiding under tables or burrowing into open school bags as terrified whispers rippled through the room. Lupin who had been walking between the groups, looked up, surprise crossing his face at the sight of them. He crossed the room, leaving Niamh to continue prowling around the tables.
"Harry," Lupin said quietly, glancing back anxiously. "I did not expect to see you so soon, specially after we spoke last night."
Harry looked away at this, his dead eye swirling as his coldness began to extend to his immediate surroundings.
Tom slotted his fingers back into Harry's and squeezed them tight.
"Harry is perfectly fine."
Lupin frowned and ran his hand over his exhausted face.
"Tom, you've barely had time to process what happened, and given the circumstance I do not think it's wise for Harry to be immediately among dæmons again so soon."
"For who's sake?" Tom said, his eyes scanning the room. Several people deliberately looked away, and buried their heads back into their text books despite their eyes not moving.
Lupin's frown sharpened.
"For your own as much as anything."
Harry stiffened, and he would have certainly tried to leave had Tom not gripped him tighter.
"I'm fine," Tom said tightly.
Lupin did not look convinced. Across the room Niamh was watching, her large yellow eyes unwavering from Harry.
"We will talk about this later," Lupin said, holding his arm out as if gesturing for them to leave.
Tom's look was deadly, but he didn't move. Instead he eased the comfort that Harry so desperately craved across their connection. The effect was immediate, Harry sunk forwards, leaning into him, so perfectly soothed and sedated, separated from whatever terror he had been projecting.
Niamh froze and even Lupin's eyes widened at the sudden warmth that flooded the room. No one had really seen how malleable Tom could make Harry.
"I would rather stay, sir."
Without waiting for a response, or offering any further explanation, Tom tugged Harry past Lupin and across to an empty desk, near to where Ron and Hermione were paired with Seamus and Dean. Seamus' fox and Dean's cat dæmons slunk under the table.
Ignoring their terrified classmates, Tom drew a couple of chairs for them both. Even Sephronia and Ramiron looked tempted to slink under the chairs to join Ondine and Paya.
Hermione started rummaging in her bag, pulling out a copy of the daily prophet which she passed to Tom.
"There's nothing," she whispered. "I checked twice, but there's nothing about the dementors leaving their positions and entering the grounds."
"And Harry?"
Hermione bit her lip as her fingers absently stroked Ramiron.
Tom frowned, and without so much as a glance to see if Lupin was watching spread the paper out across the desk.
Beside him he felt Harry's breath catch as he read the headline.
Potter terrorising dæmons at Hogwarts.
Beneath this was the photograph from earlier in the year. Harry was half bandaged and Tom was standing beside him in front of the Wizengamot.
Tom squeezed Harry's hand and read quickly. The article slammed Dumbledore's decision to let Harry integrate with the rest of the school, mentioned several instances of Harry's numerous lapses of control and how students and their dæmons lived in constant terror of being attacked.
Harry stiffened beside Tom as he continued to read.
"It's just Fudge stirring up trouble, he can't move against Dumbledore's guardianship, not without getting the Wizengamot's permission."
"They can always change their minds," Harry muttered.
Tom shook his head.
"Then they would have gone to the Wizengamot instead of the prophet, this just proves that they have nothing."
Harry didn't look convinced.
"I just don't want to drop our guard, you know what Fudge is like."
Tom couldn't help but crack a small smile at this.
"The sorting hat was right, maybe you do make a good Slytherin these days."
Harry scowled at this.
"Don't joke about this, Tom. After Quidditch I'm surprised Scrimgeour didn't come and try and arrest us or something. Why are you still so calm about this?"
Tom pulled out a small empty potions vial from his pocket and rolled it between his fingers before passing it to Harry. There were words etched in the glass around the rim. Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.
Despite it being months since they'd been in Ministry, Harry recognised the engraved empty potions vial at once. It was the one Snape had given to Tom just before their visit to the Wizengamot.
"The portkey," Harry frowned. "Why do you still have it?"
"Just encase something goes wrong," Tom said. "If needs be, Dumbledore will hide us from the Ministry."
Harry pulled a face at this, clearly not impressed at the thought of trusting Dumbledore.
"How do you know it still works?" Harry asked.
Tom shrugged and took it back from Harry before pocketing it.
"I don't, but I'd rather hang onto it, given the circumstances."
Harry fell silent as Tom pulled out their own quill, bottle of ink and parchment. He began copying the notes that Lupin had left up on the chalkboard.
Despite appearing to catch up with the class, Tom's focus was on anything but.
Harry was fidgeting something fierce. He kept stealing glances at the frightened dæmons in the room, his breath inhaling more than air with every breath.
Tom gripped Harry's hand underneath the table.
"It's fine," he whispered.
Harry didn't say anything, but he shot Tom with an almost imploring look.
It felt like an age before the bell rang, and Lupin didn't have to give any indication to dismiss the class. The dæmons fled, leaving the Gryffindor's scrabbling to pack their bags and chase after them.
Tom stood slowly, dragging Harry along behind him as he approached Lupin's desk. He waved to Ron and Hermione who waiting nervously at the door.
Sephronia and Ramiron looked relieved, instantly bolting out into the corridor while Hermione gave an anxious look towards Harry before they both followed their dæmons.
Lupin, who appeared to be busy packing away the classes work, stopped as soon as they were alone. The dozens of rolls of parchment that had been in the process of being stacked neatly in the air coiled up and fell scattered onto his desk. Lupin placed both hands on his desk and fixed Tom with a very angry look.
"Do you have no consideration for anyone but yourself?" Lupin snapped.
A cold smile crossed over Tom's face, his head tilted as he surveyed the werewolf, which only seemed to annoy Lupin further as Niamh growled.
"Harry is running a fine line as it is, there's been one too many occurrences of near misses."
"One too many occurrences where the Ministry still haven't done anything," Tom responded lightly. "Any more and I'd start to worry."
Lupin scowled.
"There is only so far you can push it, Tom. You should have least consulted with either myself or Professor Snape before subjecting Harry to dæmons again. Particularly after how debilitating the dementors were on you both."
Now it was Tom's turn to scowl.
"You know full well Harry is perfectly stable."
"Through your influence alone, I was under the impression that Harry wanted to rely on you less," Lupin looked pointed at Harry at this, who immediately looked away.
"Harry can't have it both ways," Tom said coolly. "The best way forward is to demonstrate that the Quidditch incident was insignificant. He needs to integrate back into the school before Fudge can build a case against him. If we hide up in our room waiting for Harry to master Occlumency himself, then Fudge might actually succeed in convincing the Wizengamot that St Mungo's is the best place for us."
"And if he slips up again?" Lupin demanded.
"Harry won't," Tom said tightly.
Lupin sighed and fixed Harry with an unconvinced look.
"Harry, what do you think about this?"
Tom was surprised at the hostility in Harry's voice.
"It doesn't matter what I think."
"Harry-" Lupin started, only to be interrupted.
"Tom's right. I'd devour the nearest dæmon I could," Harry said. "And that's knowing the consequences which terrify me."
"I think you've made significant progress," Lupin said. "Your determination to master your temptations is growing every day. When is your next Occlumency lesson?"
"Thursday," Harry said, stuffing his hands into his robes pockets.
"They've been going okay?" Lupin asked, his eyes moving every so slightly towards his office where Scabbers was probably sleeping.
Tom tilted his head at this.
"Snape hasn't seen anything about Lyra and Sirius if that's what you mean," he said lightly. "I've been sure to keep that information hidden."
Lupin nodded, wringing his hands together as Niamh brushed up against him.
"Good. Sirius and Professor Snape have a very nasty history. He would sooner see Sirius go back to Azkaban then anything else."
Tom frowned and shared a look with Harry, before fixing Lupin with a hard stare.
"Do you trust Severus Snape?" Tom asked.
Lupin's brows pinched toegther but he nodded.
"Dumbledore trusts Severus."
"That's not what I asked," Tom said.
"You should get to your next class," Lupin said stiffly. He moved back around his desk and started collecting the strewn about papers.
Tom however, wasn't finished.
"After Niamh was bitten did you have any problems with your magic?" Tom asked. Harry pinched Tom's hard at this but he didn't interrupt.
Lupin stopped filing the parchment and looked up, he glanced at Niamh, seemingly debating what to say.
"Why do you ask?"
"Is that a yes?" Tom asked, crossing his arms.
Lupin cleared his throat, not looking entirely comfortable.
"Every full moon."
Harry and Tom looked at each other. Now that was unexpected.
Lupin continued with a sad smile.
"The day of a full moon my magic can be a bit volatile. It's an inconvenience, but otherwise it doesn't interfere with my day to day life." A look of comprehension suddenly dawned on Lupin's face.
"Ah, let me guess. Harry's been having problems?"
Tom didn't say anything.
"I'm not allowed to use magic at the moment," Harry said begrudgingly.
Lupin though was not so easily put off, he stepped back around his desk. Niamh followed, sharp eyes fixed on Harry.
"What have you noticed?"
Tom ignored the question.
"Are there other witches or wizards who have problems with their magic?" he asked.
Lupin nodded.
"It's common for werewolfs to have the same temporary issues with magic as I do. I believe people with Veela ancestry also have volatile bouts of magic, but I would have to read into it before giving you a full explanation."
Tom frowned.
"So anyone who isn't strictly human and has a dæmon is likely to have similar problems?"
"There have been studies on the subject, but little conclusion drawn," Lupin said. "It's believed that dæmons regulate our magic and anything which interferes with this bond is likely to cause minor problems."
Tom nodded. It was roughly what Hermione had implied but at least it offered some comfort. Harry's issues with his magic weren't solely related to being demented, it was most likely a combination of reasons.
They left the defence classroom soon after, leaving Lupin and Niamh slightly appeased from their earlier annoyance. Most students had already made their way to their next classes and the corridors were already empty.
"My magic is fine," Harry said as soon as they were a few strides away and out of ear shot.
Tom shot him a look at this.
"The first time you used my wand you nearly destroyed the library."
"I thought you said that was because unicorn hair doesn't work well with dark magic. If you just let me try mine again."
"Hopefully that's all there is to it," Tom said mildly. "I still want to understand it though, particularly if Fudge finds out and uses it as an excuse to stop you learning magic."
The look on Harry's face darkened, clearly remembering what Tom had told him about wands in Hogsmeade. He was silent a moment before shooting Tom an equally wary look.
"Why did you ask Lupin about whether or not he trusts Snape. Given that Snape will be telling Voldemort everything anyway, I don't see it matters."
"If Snape is loyal to Dumbledore he will be subjective in what he shows the Dark Lord," Tom said. "It makes a difference."
"He's still a Death Eater," Harry said bitterly.
"Spies are useful tools in wars, Harry," Tom said. "Plus I think it's Voldemort who loosing out."
Now that caught Harry's attention, who slowed his pace and fixed Tom with a look.
"You think Snape is Dumbledore's man?"
"Snape showed me your memories," Tom said quietly, spinning on his heel to check they were truly alone. "If his true allegiance is with Voldemort he would never have done so."
"I don't understand, that doesn't mean anything-"
"Doesn't it?" Tom said lightly. "It changes my perspective, and Dumbledore and Snape knew it."
"That still doesn't make any sense," Harry said. "It's logical that you would want to hurt Riddle after turning me demented."
Tom frowned.
"There's more to it than that, Harry."
Harry shrugged, clearly unimpressed.
"I don't see why it changes anything, everyone is still our enemy."
Tom sighed and ran his hand through his hair as they came to a halt outside the Transfiguration classroom.
"Don't worry. I'm not about to start trusting Severus Snape."
"You trust him enough to believe that portkey will actually return us to Hogwarts," Harry bit out.
Tom couldn't help but smile thinly at this.
"Fine, say it would take us to Voldemort instead, who would you choose if the circumstances are dire. The Ministry or Voldemort?"
Harry's expression shadowed over at this, his dead eye fixing unnerving on Tom.
"Voldemort would give me all the dæmons I want, wouldn't he?"
Tom nodded, his own fists clenching.
"I'm sure he'd think you'd be the perfect weapon."
The light had started to dim and the first couple of stars had appeared in the sky.
Sirius had been crouched, watching the row of houses that ran along the small country road all day. His legs were cramped and his neck stiff, but he still sat attentively watching for any sign of movement. He'd already seen a couple of cats, four owls and one small child playing in one of the front gardens but otherwise it had been peaceful. Mintaka had taken the opportunity to rest and was currently curled up asleep in the undergrowth. Lyra wasn't too far away, brushing her nose in the autumn leaves.
It was dangerous to be here. Sirius hadn't been close to any populated magical area since his escape and he'd spent the last few weeks nervously skirting around any magically dense area. Given that he couldn't rely on transforming into Mintaka again, it had made for too many opportunities to be sighted.
It was another half an hour of quiet before he dared shake Mintaka awake. She stretched, large teeth showing as she yawned.
"How's Lyra?" she asked.
It had one of their main conversation points over the last few days. The small pine marten hadn't minded Sirius and Mintaka's company, in fact Lyra often curled up beside Mintaka every other night, but there was still something so terribly wrong.
"She still hasn't said a word," Sirius said.
"She's traumatised. I wouldn't expect her to be unaffected."
"It's not that," Sirius said quietly. "It's almost like she's damaged."
Lyra stilled, her small ears pricking upwards but her attention was not on Sirius and Mintaka.
There was movement at one of the nearby houses. An older couple, both dressed in long blue robes, were just leaving their front door. One walked with a cane, and they hobbled slowly to the end of the lane before entering another house slightly further down the street.
"We should leave," Mintaka growled at once.
"No," Sirius said. "We can't yet, we need to find out where Harry is."
"Do you not think it strange they didn't apparate or use the floo?" Mintaka said, her own yellow eyes still fixed on the house. "Bit convenient for us to see, don't you think?"
Sirius frowned and he clutched the stolen wand tighter. She was right, they had been stationary for too long.
"Do you smell anyone?"
Mintaka pointed her nose into the air. There was no breeze, so it wasn't a surprise when she shook her large head.
Sirius eyed the hillside warily, his stomach clenching as he took a deep breath. He didn't particularly want to apparate, but if they were no longer alone, they would have have to act fast.
He looked back to their hiding place. The pine marten was no where in sight.
"Lyra-" Sirius hissed, cursing under his breath.
The small demon was already half way down the exposed path. Mintaka lunged straight after her, padded feet carrying her quickly and silently out into the open.
Sirius tore after the pair, half expecting wand fire to start raining down. When nothing happened, he kept low, skirting around the edge of the garden wall before scaling it. The small front door was ajar and both dæmons had disappeared from sight.
Edging slowly, Sirius crept towards the entrance.
"Min-"
A low growl was indication enough and Sirius rushed inside.
The kitchen was littered with pots and pans. A clothes rack was propped against a set of rusty pipes and an owl was sleeping in a cage on the windowsill.
Mintaka was half way across the room, cautiously stalking towards the other dæmon.
Lyra had jumped up onto the counter and was sniffing against each of the cupboards. She stopped next to the bread bin and pushed it open.
Sirius's stomach growled as she dug her teeth into a loaf of half eaten bread.
"Lyra, we have to leave-"
He stopped short as a dread like no other consumed him.
A newspaper lay on the counter, open on an article about bolstering security at Azkaban. It was the other page however, that stole Sirius attention. The picture showed a boy who looked so aching similar to James with bandages wound tightly to cover half of his face and arms.
Sirius seized the paper, his heart hammering abnormally fast. It crinkled uselessly in his hands as he stared in twisted disbelieve at the headline.
Potter terrorising dæmons at Hogwarts.
It wasn't possible.
Sirius' read feverishly, his eyes blurring as he tried to absorb every cruel detail. Yet he could not deny the sudden comprehension of the last few weeks. It explained everything, including why Harry's dæmon had been unnaturally silent.
A part of Lyra had died with Harry.
"We were too late, Min," Sirius' voice came out a choked whisper, his stomach lurched as if a hole burned in his gut.
Mintaka whined, her anguish as fierce as Sirius' own.
"Such a pity, isn't it?"
Sirius whirled around. Mintaka leapt up to seise Lyra between her jaws, depositing the smaller dæmon beneath her onto the dusty floor.
The impostor stood in front of the open door and he wasn't alone. Half a dozen Death Eaters emerged from the shadows, enclosing Sirius in the centre of the kitchen.
Lyra remained sheltered, tucked low, her ears pressed against the underside of Mintaka's fur.
Sirius held the stolen wand steady, despite his thumping anguished heart. He levelled it at the imposter. Sirius was still a few paces away from both Mintaka and Lyra, but he still chanced a glance in their direction.
The imposter eyed him, an amused look crossing his face.
"The aurors won't come this time," he said. "And you can certainly try apparating. I wouldn't recommend it though."
Sirius pulled his gaze back to the older Tom Riddle. He was translucent, just like another persons dæmon would be.
"You never introduced yourself before," Sirius snarled. "What exactly are you?"
The impostor knelt down, his eyes for Lyra only.
"Harry calls me Riddle," the imposter said mildly. "I'm similar to Tom, only I'm not directly attached to Harry."
Riddle held out his hand, grin widening as the pine marten inched out from under Mintaka's belly. Mintaka growled, teeth sinking into the back of Lyra's fur to hold her back.
"She's desperate to be close to Harry again," Riddle said. "She craves my existence."
Sirius edged one foot closer to Mintaka, but Riddle straightened suddenly, attention cutting off from Lyra abruptly.
A curse itched on Sirius' lips but he barely had a chance to utter it. Riddle didn't even have to say a word. Two of the Death Eaters had been ready and their wands reacted in lightening fast unison. Sirius dodged the first, his own curse missing Riddle by an inch, but the second caught Sirius square in the chest. He fell screaming.
His bones burned as a white hot needle like pain scorched into every nerve ending in his body. Mintaka howled. Sirius clutched feebly at nothing, his own agony coursing uncontrollably and relentless.
The curse broke abruptly and Sirius lay panting hard with his body trembling. He blinked warily, feebly brushing his fingers against the stone floor to find the wand that was no longer there. He had barely looked up only to see Lyra dart out from a collapsed Mintaka. Lyra was a wolf and she snarled and lunched towards Riddle.
Riddle jerked his arm upwards, wand slashing upwards.
Sirius winced, expecting the dæmon to fall under Riddle's curse, but she stopped short. Riddle had summoned an invisible shield between them.
"Very clever," Riddle hissed, a dark expression crossing his face as he glared down at Lyra. "Harry didn't particularly like it when I touched you last time. I didn't think you'd be aware."
Sirius forced his legs to move, his body protesting as his arms barely supported his weight. Mintaka was lying still on the floor, her chest rising and falling rapidly, but otherwise she didn't move.
Lyra's snout rippled and she growled again, her nose pressed up against Riddle's protection. The contrast on Riddle's face was alarming, but for some reason he stayed his wand.
Sirius lent on the counter, his body protested as he briefly eyed the Death Eaters. They didn't react though, only remained watching.
Lyra started prowling, pacing back and forth against Riddle's shield. Riddle's fiercely intense gaze never left hers.
"Lyra, come here-" Sirius' voice sounded a lot weaker than he expected, it barely projected as he attempted to shake off the effects of the curse.
Lyra halted, her ears perking upwards as Sirius held his breath, hoping that she'd catch on.
Riddle didn't want to touch Lyra. They were both dæmons so it shouldn't have mattered, yet there could be only one reason that Riddle was being cautious.
Lyra transformed, flicking to a more agile form in a blink of an eye. She was a pine marten again and she jumped upwards, away from Riddle and onto the counter towards Sirius.
Sirius threw himself forwards, his arm was outstretched, fingers only inches from her fur.
Lyra didn't make it.
Riddle's curse lifted her into the air, and backwards towards him.
Sirius scrambled around the counter, but there was nothing he could do to help Lyra as his legs locked suddenly in place, sticking to the floor from another curse.
"Now we can't have that," Riddle hissed. "Warning Harry will only complicate things."
Mintaka was stirring and Riddle dropped Lyra roughly on the floor beside her. Lyra scrambled round and growled, her small teeth bared.
"Your dæmon can keep a close eye on Lyra, can't she?" Riddle said coolly, his eyes flashing in warning at Lyra. "Although Black, any hint of transforming and I'll ensure you remain a mutt indefinitely."
Sirius hated that his stomach gave a unpleasant jolt. There was no way Mintaka could survive, not if he took control of her body for any prolonged amount of time. Not after the risks they had already taken.
"What do you want?" Sirius growled. "If you're not just going to take Lyra-"
"Don't look so worried, Black," Riddle said waving his hand dismissively. "Just like you, I merely wish to reunite Potter with his dæmon."
"I was doing that just fine without you," Sirius snapped.
Riddle smiled, tapping his wand idly against the counter.
"I only wish to speed up the process, travelling without magic is very tedious and I know how Harry must be so eager to meet you."
Sirius' stared uneasily at that.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked.
"You may be surprised to hear that Potter is as stubborn as his dæmon. I merely need your assistance to get Harry to listen, given that you captured his attention at St Pancras."
If Sirius' feet weren't still stuck to the floor he would have crossed it and punched Riddle in the face.
"You want to use me to get to Harry," Sirius growled. "Trick him, so that he doesn't know it's you."
Mintaka had managed to regain some strength and she snarled, only she didn't dare move away from Lyra's side.
"If Harry wasn't so difficult I wouldn't have to, but needs must," Riddle said.
"Harry thinks I'm a Death Eater," Sirius snapped. "He's not going to come and see me."
"Ah," Riddle smiled, pointing his wand straight at Sirius. "I know Harry well enough to know that he'll be curious enough to meet you."
"And the other one," Mintaka snarled. "The Tom Riddle who is attached to Harry, will he be so easily led into danger?"
Riddle's face twisted something at that.
"Harry will come."
"I will die before I help you get near Harry," Sirius growled.
Riddle's smile widened at that. He aimed his wand to point it directly at Sirius heart.
"I'm more than happy to kill you, Black."
Sirius stiffened, eyes rushing to seek Mintaka as he tried to remember how she had been before Azkaban. Mintaka had heaved herself forwards so that she sheltered Lyra, she let out a low whine.
Riddle lowered his wand, eyes glinting in amusement.
"Before I do however, I would ask you to reconsider. You'd be leaving Lyra all alone with me which is very generous. I would still get to Harry one way or another."
Sirius' expression darkened, tearing his eyes reluctantly from his dæmon as he surveyed the room. If Lyra stayed with Mintaka then at least they still had a chance, even if they could distract the Death Eaters long enough for Lyra to escape it was worth playing along, for now at least. If Riddle was taking them to Hogwarts, then Lyra wouldn't have to run far. She only had to make it to the castle.
Sirius swallowed, a hard lump forming in his throat.
His resignation must have been obvious as Riddle flicked his wand, unsticking Sirius feet from the floor. With another sharp flick, a piece of parchment, ink and a quill appeared on the kitchen counter just in front of Sirius.
"What's that for?" Sirius snapped.
Riddle grinned, his wand unlocking the cage to the owl that was still asleep in the corner.
"I believe it's time you wrote a letter to your Godson."