Author's Note: Here's part three! Finally!
of
a certain headmaster
The school day had gone relatively quickly for Harry. He was getting ready to leave when Kent and Caity caught up to him, both with grins playing on their faces.
"What are you planning?" Harry asked flatly, his suspicious eyes switching from one to the other.
"We're going all together," Kent said. "To England."
"Right…" Harry said slowly. "I thought we already agreed on that – "
"But that's not all!" Caity exclaimed, looking excited.
Harry was really quite tempted to tell that he really didn't want to know, but not giving him the chance, Caity revealed, "We're going on a world tour, too!"
In the middle of the hallway, with students bustling to get either in or out, the three stood there, stock still, and it was almost as if they were standing still in time as well; for there was no sound for the rest of the hustle going on around them that penetrated their thoughts and ears and minds – Kent and Caity smiling and happily waiting for Harry's burst of excitement, Harry staring at the two with a dumbfounded expression – before the sound suddenly seemed to return, full blast, and they could all feel the shoves of the rushing students from each side.
"Are you both crazy?" Harry asked, still staring dumbly. "Why are we going to do that?"
"Because," Caity said, "I've already gotten permission from the headmaster. He says that it's perfectly fine with him that his top students go away for a few months. And," she added, with the air of Santa pulling out toys for children out of his hat, as she brandished a manila folder, "it's completely paid for."
Taking the folder in astonishment, Harry looked at the smug expressions on Caity and Kent's faces before mumbling, "Well…it sounds like fun…."
Caity beamed at him. "You just have to go see Professor Riddle."
"Riddle's actually letting us go through with this?"
"He wants you to meet him right away," Kent said, pushing Harry towards the staff offices. "Now!"
***
Wondering how in the world that Kent and Caity could always manage to make simple things so complicated, Harry sat in the office of Professor Tom Marvolo Riddle, the headmaster of their school, the Nicholas Flamel Academy of Science and Technology. The room was large, the walls of scarlet red and highlighted with gold – red and gold being their school colors, of course – and their mascot, a lion. Harry was riveted by these colors, their emblem, but no one really understood why – they were just their school colors.
Harry was a very good student in school, one of the top. Everyone was nice to him, he got along with them, but the only people he'd really become friends with was Kent, Caity, and Jewel. He didn't play any school sports, but he had signed up for martial arts when Kent had, so therefore had a blue belt in Ikido, though he hadn't entered any tournaments. He played a prank every once in a while, and although a good student, was carefree in attitude. Riddle had always known that, so why was he getting himself involved now, of all times?
Harry felt a slight sinking feeling in his stomach. He didn't quite find himself feeling fond of Professor Riddle – there was just something strange about him that Harry couldn't place….
Harry stood as the man entered right then, smiling as he did so. Professor Riddle was tall, and had dark eyes and pale skin. He entered quietly, and sat quietly across from Harry.
"Hello, Professor," Harry said cheerfully.
He held up the envelope. "Kent
and Caity told me that you wanted to talk to me about this?"
"Yes, Mr. Potter," Professor Riddle nodded, watching Harry as he sat uncomfortably in is seat. "They tell me plans of a tour are in mind?"
"Sir," Harry replied with a laugh. "Sir, I just want to go to England for break – "
"Nonsense, Mr. Potter," Professor Riddle said, in his lilting English accent. His eyes, a decadent black, were boring into him. "Nonsense. You will go on this tour as discussed with Mr. Kent Stuart and Miss Caity Penn. I would like for you – to sort of, how shall I say this," Professor Riddle had leaned back in his chair, his hands idly folded near his mouth, half a smile flourishing. "There's something I need you to do for me."
"What is it, sir?" Harry asked curiously, perking in his seat. Hmm…maybe this would be something interesting after all….
"England will be the last stop on your trip, and you'll have as much time as you want to arrange the flight back for whenever you want. I need you to find a Professor Albus Dumbledore – "
"Dumbledore?"
"Yes."
Harry raised an eyebrow before reaching quickly into his backpack's pocket to grab a pen; then he scribbled the name onto the back of his hand.
Professor Riddle watched him skeptically and with quirk of his brow, commented, "At times, Mr. Potter, I really do wonder why you were chosen class President."
Harry laughed at this, and replied with a grin, "Well, Professor, then you know maybe half of what I feel. I hadn't even known I'd been nominated until Professor Sans was telling me I had a meeting to hold to organize the new student staff because I had won."
Riddle smiled again. It didn't reach his eyes. "So. Find Professor Dumbledore for me. You'll meet someone who knows, I'm sure." His smile faded, and he leaned closed, his eyes burning through him now. "I cannot impress the necessity that you reach Dumbledore. There can be no chance taken of you not doing so, you understand?"
Harry, taken aback, asked, "Why? And what do I tell him?"
"He'll tell you," Riddle corrected. "You just get there alive, boy, that's all that matters." There was a short pause, before Riddle's cool smile graced his features once more. "Figuratively speaking, my boy. Mr. Stuart and Miss Penn are more informed on the matter than you are, and shall inform Miss Smith and yourself later on. I presume you have better places to be."
"Of course I do," Harry replied with a grin. He stood, but then stopped and turned to the old – but somehow, young – headmaster. "Thank you very much, sir. I really appreciate this."
Riddle waved the gratitude away, taking his eyes off of the student and returning to the papers on his desk. "No trouble, dear boy. No trouble at all."
***
It was September the twenty-third.
Yesterday had been June the twenty-second.
Tomorrow would be June the twenty-fourth.
And everyday, he would somehow find himself here.
The weather was gorgeous, not at all reminiscent of what the weather was like that day in the past.
Sirius sighed, closing his eyes tightly and trying to breathe in the fresh air without feeling that ever-consistent pang that he just hadn't been able to get rid of from two years ago.
When he reached his destination, he found a small, luscious garden of color and vibrant life – so much what he had been like, before that day…. The path was made of smooth, black stones with white cracks, and there were lilies and roses and an assortment of beautiful spring colors. Overhead, a large and ancient willow tree served to shelter the small paradise, keeping it covered from the prying eyes of the creatures in the forest – protected from all but those who knew exactly where to find it.
Sirius walked by, not noticing anything but the gravestone in front of him. Stopping in front of it, he took it all in.
It was a black marble headstone, words engraved in thick, pearly white lettering. It was simple on the outside, but if one looked closely, one would see intricate emerald green lines running through the marble; elegant and slick.
Savior of the Magical WorldHeir of Gryffindor
The-Boy-Who-Lived
Son of Lily and James Potter
HARRY JAMES POTTER
(1980-1997)
It was a gorgeous work of art.
Everyday, he would find himself here.
Sirius hated it.
a certain headmaster
end
A/N: And so ends part three.
Now for the plot. I have a few things to reveal to you, so stick around for the rest of my babble, if you please, to find out just a teensy bit more.
Chapter three has been written for scratch no less than four times. This chapter was a mix of two. The reason I'm going so painstakingly slow with this fic is because it's got an intricate part and I want to make sure all things fit as I go along.
A lot of reviewers seem confused. How does Harry remember the Dursleys, but not Hogwarts? After this chapter, I'm sure some of you are thinking, "Noo, Harry, what are you DOING? Riddle's going to KILL you, get away, get away!" Or maybe not. Or maybe you're wondering whether Riddle is really the Riddle that became Voldemort. Haha. Well, I have just ONE thing to say! *goes into Dobby-mode*: He's not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named NOR is he the real Tom Riddle! *goes and beats her head against the keyboard*
There's a really big clue. Okay. Shutting up now.
Anyway, for those of you that are confused about that and the Dursleys and all – don't bother being so, it's hopeless to figure it out until more info is given. And they're not mistakes or anything, I know exactly what I'm doing.
OH!! I FORGOT!! WAHAHAHA who else is seeing HP: CoS opening day? I'm going to a 7:05 pm showing and I can't wait! My friends and I are planning and preparing for a four-hour wait in line, right after school. Thank God it's a Friday! And three days after my 16th b-day! Ah, life is good! :D
Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and will stick with for the ride! I'd like to thank everyone who had reviewed – when I started writing this for a break from the Phoenix Gate, I had no idea it would turn out like this!
If you would like to be notified of new chapters or updates for my fan fiction, please leave your e-mail address in a review or e-mail me so I can add you to my mailing list. Thanks!
~ Jedi Cosmos ~