The Heir rises

Harry sat on his bed in Gryffindor Tower with the broken Emerald in front of him. He knew since the beginning that Salazar wouldn't stay around forever. But he hadn't expected that the farewell would be so rough.

He buried his head into his hands. There was so much to process, he didn't know where to begin.

For a moment he considered involving Dumbledore, but something was holding him against this idea. The old wizard knew how to position his pawns unbeknownst to them. He was a fine strategist whose interest was the Wizarding World's Fate. And in its best interest, Voldemort needed to be stopped in the most absolute way possible. If Harry gave all the knowledge he had, he would lose the control over it. And he would never have his chance to fulfill his part of the contract.

A ray of light tickled him from the half-drawn curtains. He turned his head toward it, savouring the softness of the winter sun and his gaze fell on Ron's bed. The events of the previous night came back to him. Was Mr. Weasley all right? He had received no news yet, and he sincerely hoped it was all for the best. With a bitter heart he thought about Sirius who had welcomed the family at Grimmauld Place. He wondered what his reaction had been when he realised Harry wasn't here. He had stayed silent after his rude comment about Harry's father and, with his training going on, Harry hadn't tried to catch up with him either.

As for him, he didn't know what would happen in the next days. He had felt relieved when he had left Dumbledore's office. The Headmaster had guided him to the Infirmary and walking through Hogwarts corridor with his protective shadow behind had brought a comfort he hadn't felt for a long time. He had missed his mentor. But he wasn't sure he wanted him back.

He stood up and stretched. Lunch couldn't be far off by now.

In the Great Hall he noticed that most of the professors were absent. The Heads of the four Houses were here though and Dumbledore was deeply absorbed in a conversation with them. He briefly nodded toward Harry when he arrived, and the boy answered politely. He joined the table on which all the students had been gathered for the holidays. Harry recognised some Gryffindors who completely ignored him. He didn't expect anything from the Ravenclaws and especially the Hufflepuffs who still hadn't digested Cedric's death. Some of them were even holding him accountable for it. It wasn't even worth to talk about the Slytherins.

'If they only knew,' he thought with a pinch in his heart.

He ate quietly and quickly, glancing toward the professors table from time to time. He caught the dark stare of Snape and withstood it until the Professor was called by Dumbledore. The look had almost been accusing and suddenly Harry lost all his appetite. Snape was part of an Order whose leader he had assaulted no earlier than last night. With Salazar's… departure he had completely postponed thinking about the consequences of last night attacks.

He took a piece of bread and started to play with it. If Dumbledore hadn't manipulated him last night, it meant he had decided to trust him again. On one hand this was recomforting, but on the other hand it meant Harry had to betray him. If the Headmaster had tried to fool him, which was still completely possible, that meant he might be in danger. Not great danger though. He couldn't see the Headmaster threaten his life. But he knew he could pull any excuse to conceal him somewhere or force him under close monitoring inside the castle.

But either way he wouldn't be free to act. He wouldn't be able to fulfill his duty to Slytherin.

Betray Dumbledore to save Tom Riddle.

A slight smile drew on his lips. Who was Tom Riddle? A young power-hungry man, who had decided to enslave the Wizarding World. He was rallying wizards and witches making them believe he would purge this World of Muggle borns. But Harry had seen how his was dealing with his followers. For Voldemort there would no one else than him. The first clue of the lie was that pure bloods and half-bloods were both welcomed in his ranks. This hypocrisy could only mean one thing: in the end it didn't matter to Voldemort. As long as he would be the only one to control them all.

Why would he want to save someone like this? Someone who wanted him dead more than anything in the World?

An idea had emerged in his mind. Horcruxes were memories from another age. If Voldemort had fragmented his soul over the time, that meant that each Horcrux must contain different version of his past self. The Tom he had met in his second year was nothing like the Dark Lord whose rebirth he had witnessed last year. Well, they maybe were the same psychopath. But Harry had been able to talk with Tom. And the Horcrux was intrigued by Harry. He didn't want to kill him immediately. He had wanted to understand before. Why had Harry survived when he was a baby? Who was he truly? Voldemort had immediately tried to fight Harry.

With Voldemort there would no discussion. But maybe with a young Tom he could find a way to understand how a young boy raised at Hogwarts could end up becoming the darkest wizard of times. It was exactly like in class or when he had tried to comprehend how wandless nonverbal magic worked. It was exactly what Salazar had taught him.

First assess the environment and the target. Go back to the fundamentals and understand them. Then, step-by-step, move forward, building your knowledge.

The bread in his hand disappeared. He hadn't noticed the students leaving one by one, and the lunch had ended. He stood up in the empty Great Hall and raised his gaze toward the magic ceiling. The snow was falling softly from a white cloudless sky. Harry had rarely felt so alone in his life and secretly wished he could have joined his friends.

But he was a threat and would be until it all ended. He started to head toward the exit of the Great Hall but was stopped by a hissing voice he recognised immediately.

'Not so quick, Potter,' spat the Potions Master of Hogwarts in his usual charming tone.

Harry turned toward the Professor with the politest look he could manage. He couldn't say his relationship toward Snape had improved over the past few months, but at he had stopped bothering him during class and had started to grade him fairly. Which ironically was already a lot from this teacher. But he was still very wary of the dark-haired wizard. He knew he was a Death-Eater. Apparently, his true loyalty was to Dumbledore and everyone around seemed to believe so. But Harry didn't trust him. And to Hell with those who disagreed with him. They weren't the one hunted down. They weren't the one whose fate was tied to a fight to the death with Lord Voldemort.

He waited for Snape to close the distance between them.

'You are to join me tomorrow afternoon in my office as per the Headmaster request,' said Snape. Apparently, the idea of being locked in a room with Harry was as repulsive to him as it was to the boy.

'Why?' He replied abruptly surprised by the teacher's request.

'Occlumency,' smiled the Professor disdainfully. 'Not that I expect you to know anything about it, but the Professor Dumbledore has given me the task to train you on this subtle branch of magic.'

'The magic of the Mind,' replied Harry savouring the look of surprise that appeared in Snape's eyes. 'Being able to empty one's mind while raising the necessary defense against any foreign attempt to access it.'

'That's great, it appears that you can read definitions,' said Snape with a sarcastic tone. 'But you will understand in time that the ability of understanding a book and practice have very little in common.'

'Why don't you try me now, then?' Taunted Harry. He was tired of being taken for imbecile. Everyone in the Order had clues about what was happening while he was being left in the dark. It irritated him greatly. But being taken for a helpless boy was a step too far. He might not be the most powerful wizard in the World. He wouldn't have even bet on him on a duel with any seventh year at Hogwarts. But he wasn't an incompetent. Insulting his skills was insulting the lessons he had received from Slytherin himself. And he couldn't bear it.

'Well maybe you'd rather wait to be protected in your office,' continued Harry with a mischievous smile. 'That way if you fail you will be sure no one witness it.'

To his great satisfaction he noticed the surprise grow in his teacher's eyes. Harry wasn't afraid to snap back. He didn't care about the consequences anymore. It took a great deal of self-control for Snape to not put the brat in detention for the rest of the term.

'My office. Tomorrow. Three o'clock.' He said in a dangerous growl. He headed to the exit of the Great Hall in a swirl of black cloak.

Harry chuckled. He might have overstepped a bit here. But Merlin did it feel good.

He had the whole afternoon for himself since Dumbledore didn't seem to have taken any other appointment on his behalf. Therefore, he headed to the library. He had some research to do on the ancestors of Riddle. The Gaunt family.