Harry looked down to see his pale hands and confirmed that they were indeed those of Tom Riddle. He knew that what he saw was not to be trusted. At least Harry didn't want to trust it because he knew what might happen if he did...

Tom/Harry looked up to see a hooded figure standing not far in front of him. Harry saw that the figure had something in his hands that must've been heavy because he appeared to be struggling to carry the weight. The squat man walked forward and and lowered his hood: Wormtail.

"Master, I have brought it to you...just as you asked," he said in a slightly quivering voice.

"Well at least you're good for something, Ratbutt," said Tom in as icy a voice as ever.

"Y-y-yes, Master. Of course. Shall I get you anything?"

"Yes, you can get your lazy bum out of here, you git! Can you not see how busy I am?"

Wormtail nodded vigorously and then stumbled from the room. Tom/Harry then walked to the object that the servant had deposited; Harry thought it looked strangely familiar...

Tom/Harry pushed aside the cloth that was draped unceremoniously over the object to reveal what Harry was nowhere near prepared for. What he saw was a total shock. Harry looked through Voldemort's eyes down at the veil. The same veil that had taken Sirius only a couple months before. The body of two souls walked up in front of the veil and Harry felt Tom's mouth move as he said,

"Voices of the dead, I command you to rise before me...bring me who I have been searching for; bring me Sirius Black."

Harry was watching in horror after those words had penetrated his mind and saw the veil flutter violently. Harry thought that it was very close to flying right off of the dais that held it in place. Soon, through all of the flurry of movement and gusts of wind and extreme cold, everything stopped and was calm. The veil spit out a small shadowy figure. It was dusty, smoky, and shaped just like Harry's godfather.

"Hello, Black," spat Voldemort.

Sirius looked around the spot where he was floating weakly and then traced his eyes up the body of Tom Riddle.

"You!" he said with equal amounts of venom.

"Yes...me. I'm glad to see that you're so happy to see me." This was seen to be untrue by the way Sirius glared at Tom/Harry. Harry watched and desperately wanted to call out to his late godfather for he severely missed him. He wanted to yell that it was all his, Harry's, fault, and that he would do anything to have him back. But he couldn't do tat, and that was the truth. Harry had to sit and watch as Sirius was tortured even after death. Harry thought of how unfair it was to be disturbed when already gone from the living world. "You see, you are just right where I want you, my friend."

"Yeah, whatever."

"No, no, no, you don't understand. I have had this planned all along. See, I had to lure you into the Chamber of Death. That was no easy feat. That slimy git of a Potter puts up one hell of a fight. But, after much perseverance, I succeeded in having you thrown through the veil. Now, you see, being in the veil is quite an advantage-"

"Maybe to you. I'll tell you that being in here with a bunch of crazed souls that were old prisoners is not my cup of tea!"

"Crazed prisoners? Sounds like you would fit right in..." At this the shadowy Sirius appeared to spit onto Tom's robes. But, seeing as it was made of smoke, it didn't really do the job. "Anyway, Black, I don't have time for chatting with worthless beings such as yourself. What I summoned you for is much more urgent. I need you to tell me where the Order is hiding. I know that it's hidden by that blasted Fidelus Charm and that you know the location. So tell me. You might as well, then you'll be able to see your dear friends again."

"I would never," muttered Sirius. He looked furious. Furious at everything: himself, Voldemort, the world, the veil, just everything.

"Right then," said Tom/Harry, "I guess that we'll just have to threaten you until you crack. You see, unless I put you myself back through the veil, you will eventually puff away. Your soul will disappear. You will be gone forever and will never have existed. You'd become nothing and no one but I would know, which means that no one would care."

"Then I guess I'll become nothing. I would rather that then betray my friends!"

"Very well then. Now, I will leave you right here until you decide to talk...or disintegrate into oblivion."

Then Tom/Harry left from the room with his cloak swishing as he walked. Sirius's shadow was left behind in the darkness.

After Tom/Harry reached another room that was considerably further down a corridor away from Sirius's room, Tom entered and sat down. Before anything else he walked over to a mirror and looked directly into his own eyes. Harry could see the hatred in them. He could see how ugly he was, and, then there was a glint of something else in those vicious eyes...something that seemed almost happy.

"Well, Potter, seen enough yet?"

Harry was screaming and was on the floor. He didn't know how he had gotten there or where he was, but knew that Voldemort had just talked to him in a dream. He knew that he had to get to Dumbledore. That was all that Harry could think for another hour, day, eternity...he didn't know how long, but that was all he thought.

Harry awoke again in the hospital wing. His eyes opened slowly as he tried to look around for his glasses. He couldn't find them and decided that he would lie back down and try to remember why he felt so horrible. He heard a voice, no, two voices that seemed miles away. Yet somehow Harry understood these voices.

"Yes, professor, he seems fine. It'd be a miracle if he woke up today, though. That boy is trying to set a record if you ask me."

"Well, Poppy, I should assume that he has a reason to be so shook up. When he awakens, please come to me so I can talk with him."

"Yes, professor, I will. Good Afternoon."

"Yes, same to you."

Then Harry heard a door close and footsteps walking away and footsteps walking towards him at the same time. He instinctively closed his eyes because he didn't feel like facing the talking and the questioning that was bound to come the moment he awoke. What Harry wanted was Ron and Hermione to come. He was sure that they would eventually. Harry decided to feign sleep until then.

It was quite a few hours later, at least Harry thought it was, when he finally heard some more footsteps coming towards the door. He also heard some hushed voices that he couldn't make out. Then he heard Madam Pomfrey walk over to the door and open it.

"Yes, I know, you'll be quiet."

Harry thought that she had actually sounded quite friendly while dealing with two people that visited often. She was always so snappish with visitors. Then Harry heard the footsteps come towards his bed and the hangings pulled open. Light poured inside and he heard his two best friends take seats beside his four-poster.

"He sure looks tired," said the lanky carrot-top.

"Well, he is sleeping. Honestly, Ronald!" said the bushy haired girl that Harry knew so well.

"You don't have to be sarcastic about it!"

"Be quiet, Ron, Harry's sleeping!"

"Oh hush, you two," said Harry, who had risen very quickly as he said this. He then looked at his two very shocked friends. They obviously thought him to be sleeping. "You don't need to argue about my sleep."

Ron and Hermione looked a little guilty, but could tell that Harry was joking. Hermione immediately covered Harry in a hug and as she pulled back asked concernedly,

"What happened, Harry? This has something to do with Voldemort, doesn't it?"

"Yes, yes it does," said Harry as the memory of the night before come back to him. The dream, the veil, Sirius. "It's just...I don't know if I can trust what I saw."

"Well," said Hermione in her business-like tone, "What exactly did you see?"

Harry found that that tone was a little annoying to him. He tried to shun that away as he thought of how to tell Hermione and Ron what he had seen through the eyes of Tom Riddle. By the time he had finished the deed he felt deflated and empty, like he did whenever he finished a long talk explaining something that had happened that was terrible...and only he, Harry, had seen it. Sometimes Harry wondered how he must look to the rest of the wizarding world. He knew that they must look at him like he was some freak who craved attention, just as Rita had said. The truth was the complete opposite. If everyone but his friends and loved ones disappeared tomorrow, he'd say that it wasn't soon enough. Harry felt heavy lately. Ever since the prophecy revelation he felt...different. He had always been different, of course, but now he was like an outcast. Another species as he had thought before. This was really starting to bug Harry. He was sick of it.

Harry was just hoping for it all to end one day. He wanted to wake up to no Voldemort, no chaos. He would be able to walk downstairs and see his parents reading the Daily Prophet. He would never have need known the Dursley's as well as he did. But, that would not, and could not, ever happen. Harry felt strangely alone.

Harry then remembered Ron and Hermione. They had been watching him all along as he lost himself in thought. He asked them kindly that he would like to be left alone for a while. He knew that he would not be alone, of course, because he had seen Dumbledore outside the door to the wing waiting for the last ten minutes. Harry was glad that he had had the courtesy of waiting until Ron and Hermione had left to barge in on him with his usual talk. This was another thing that Harry was frankly sick of. But he had promised to not let these things get him into such a state of depression and nastiness to where he wouldn't give a darn whether or not Voldemort was dead or had killed everyone. Harry knew that he had to stay strong. He had to "act the hero" as some people said, but Harry knew that that was right. He knew that in the end, he really had no choice.

Dumbledore walked in after giving a curt nod to both of Harry's best friends and then conjured up one of those nice fluffy armchairs he seemed to have in mass supply. For a while, he said nothing and only looked at Harry vaguely. Then, after much of this looking, he looked Harry in the eye and said,

"You know why I'm here, Harry."

"Yes, I do, Professor, so I'll just get down to it. I think that Voldemort might be keeping...Sirius's shadow or something hostage until he cracks and gives away the location of the Order headquarters. I'm not sure if I should believe him or not. What scared me was at the end when Voldemort was through with Sirius's...err...thing, he looked in a mirror and talked to me. Professor, he knew that I was in his head last night. I think that he planned this."

Dumbledore looked down at Harry and he could tell that the old man was deep in thought at the moment. Harry wondered what went through his aging mind. After a few moments had passed Dumbledore said, "Harry, this...dream is definitely something to take into account. I will have to look into this promptly. I am glad that you told me. I am assuming that there is nothing left to tell."

Harry nodded. "Good," said Dumbledore, "I will talk to you within the next few days with any light on the situation."

"Thank you, Professor," said Harry, "And, um, will Sirius really disappear forever if Voldemort just lets him rot outside of the veil for too long?"

"I am very sorry that I just don't know that answer. I must go, Harry. I have a very urgent meeting to attend. Good day."

With that the old man disappeared through the doorway and swept down the hallway. Harry watched as he left and then decided to try to shove those things from his mind. He settled upon thinking about lighter subjects such as when the DA would meet and when to have the next Quidditch practice. After looking through everything, Harry found that he had plenty to occupy his mind away from Tom Riddle and his insidious plans for a while.

After haggling with Madam Pomfrey for an early release in exchange for him taking a dreamless sleep draught for the next week or so, Harry was sitting in the Great Hall getting a lot of very strange looks from his peers. He knew that they wanted to know what he knew, but also knew that they would never want to know anyway. With that in mind, Harry didn't even bother with the curious looks from Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, while he ignored the petty insults flying from somewhere in the Slytherin group. Harry didn't need to look around to see who that drawling voice that was talking about Harry having fits of spasms to know that it was no one but Draco Malfoy. Harry could really care less about anything that stupid ferret had to say.

Later that night Harry and company were relaxing peacefully in the common room. Well, it would be peaceful if Harry weren't struggling to catch up with his homework. Then there was a short, but very violent chess match between Ron and Colin Creevy. Colin thought that he would be able to take on Ron, reigning champ of Gryffindor as far as chess was concerned, but he had never been more wrong. Harry and Hermione had been quietly talking about when the best time for the first DA meeting would be for somehow she had gotten hold of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Quidditch schedules so that they could plan accordingly.

The two of them eventually decided on a weekend towards the end of October right around Halloween. Harry then pointed his wand at his fake galleon that had been hiding in his trunk all summer and then felt it get warm. All the students around the school in the DA felt the warmness, whether it be in their pocket or shoe, or wherever the felt it would be safe to keep. Little did they all know that Voldemort had just pressed his finger against a well known scar that alerted some other people of an entirely different meeting.