Disclaimer: I own nothing as always...except the plot and there really isn't one...imagine that.

Chapter 5

The Cat is Out of the Bag

Harry was sleeping so peacefully, something he hadn't done for a long time. Except for the time yesterday. Maybe it was his new room or just being close to Sirius and the others. He knew it was something recent because before he had come here his dreams had been filled to the brink with nightmares. Nightmares of Cedric and Seamus dying…Of Bellatrix's taunts and Voldemort's chilling voice and red eyes.

He was sleeping so peacefully and he felt someone gently shaking him. He turned it away, trying to slip further into the arms of sleep. It was so peaceful. Who in the hell was trying to take him from this peace. The shaking grew until finally the blackness lifted and he was blinking up into the eyes of Remus and Sirius.

"Wake up, Harry," Sirius said, grinning from ear to ear. "Dumbledore is here to see you. Get dressed."

Harry threw his arm back over his face and groaned. "Why in the hell did you wake me up? It was so peaceful. No nightmares for once. Go away. I want to go back to sleep."

Sirius and Remus exchanged looks that the sixteen-year-old wizard couldn't see because of his arms. Sirius wasn't grinning like a mad man for nothing. Sirius moved his wand into view and waved it. A pale of water was hovering over Harry's head. He ignored Remus's desperate shaking of his head and smiled sweetly at his Godson.

"Oh, Harry," he said, his voice sickeningly sweet. "Please get up. Dumbledore is waiting."

"No, go 'way. Tell Dumbledore to wait until later. It's too early" He rolled over on to his stomach and buried his face under a pillow.

"Have it your way, Harry," Sirius said.

"What," Harry said, raising his head. When he saw Sirius's gaze fixed above his head, he turned to look at what he was looking at and SPLASH. A now dripping wet Harry Potter blinked and looked at his Godfather. If looks could kill, Sirius Black would be dead.

"Why- In- The- Hell- Did- You- Do- That," Harry asked jerkily while climbing out of his soaking wet bed. Sirius, after seeing his Godson's face, slowly stood and backed up until he hit the wall.

"Um, truce," Sirius said in a small voice, matching it with a weak smile.

"Sirius, love ya, bud," Harry said, advancing slowly after grabbing his wand, "but you've got approximately five seconds before I start hexing you to wherever."

Sirius paled and looked pleadingly at Remus. Remus shook his head. "Sorry, Padfoot old buddy, but you're on your own. I told you not to do it."

"Three seconds, Sirius," Harry said, raising his wand.

Sirius darted out of the room faster than Harry could even open his mouth to say, "Boo." Harry looked at Remus quizzically, who shrugged.

"Was it something I did," Harry asked innocently, causing Remus to burst out laughing. After a few moments he followed.

Remus muttered a drying charm and smiled slightly. "He really thought that you were going to hex him," he said in an amazed voice. "What I wouldn't have done to get a picture of his face."

"I know. Makes me wish I had put up a camera to take a picture of his look. Very amusing."

"Come on," Remus said, taking Harry's shoulder and steering him out of the room. "After you talk to Albus you can come and go back to sleep. Or you can stay up with the rest of us day creatures." They walked into the kitchen and was greeted with a bunch of hello's.

"Well, Harry," Dumbledore said, standing from the table and smiling. His eyes were twinkling brightly. "We'll be going to Hogwarts to talk. I should have him back before lunch, Molly." He pulled out a white sock that was obviously the portkey. After a few seconds Harry found himself in Dumbledore's office looking up at Fawkes sitting on his perch.

"Um, Professor Dumbledore, sir, why couldn't we talk at headquarters," Harry asked after a moment.

Dumbledore, who had situated himself at his desk after arriving, looked up with a serious look, though his eyes did not lose their twinkle. "It is something of high importance and desperate secrecy. The night that Voldemort was cursed, the night he disappeared, was the same night a boy appeared here, in Hogwarts."

"A boy in Hogwarts," Harry asked in a confused voice. "Surely that isn't too odd. I mean, there are people in Hogwarts all the time."

"Not during the summer, Harry," Dumbledore said in a reminding voice.

"Oh, I knew that," he said in a sheepish voice. "Who was the boy?" He had an inkling of who Dumbledore was talking about but he didn't want to say it out loud. Please no, please no.

"I think you know who I'm talking about," he said.

Please no, please no, please no…

"Tom Riddle, Harry," Dumbledore said in a final tone. His eyes flicked to something behind Harry's head and he tensed just visibly enough to let Harry know they weren't alone.

Harry tensed himself and whirled around so fast you could barely see him. His wand was out and pointed directly into the face of a young man around Harry's age. His green eyes, not much lighter than Harry's own, were wide and looking at the wand pointed in his face. His black hair was almost as messy as Harry's also, but it looked like it was done in haste to get here.

Harry knew his face was murderous. And it should be. He felt like doing nothing more than completing the prophecy at that moment but for some reason, he couldn't. His arm was starting to shake and he opened his mouth to say two words. But they wouldn't come out.

The boy flinched, waiting for the green light to hit him. But it never came. Harry couldn't do that to someone who was obviously afraid. Could he?

Harry collapsed on the chair, hearing the boy's sigh of relief. "Explain, please." His voice was cracking.

Tom had been hurrying to get to Dumbledore's office as quickly as he could. He had been staying here for the past day and wanted to know what the hell was going on. He had just suddenly shown up here and couldn't remember anything except his previous years at Hogwarts, no summers, his own name, and the name Harry Potter. There was always the nagging at the back of his mind, "Get to Harry, get to Harry."

Why get to Harry though? What did this boy know that he didn't? He had to trust the old muggle loving fool however to know. He had to trust Dumbledore and the Potter boy to know his past. He had a feeling that something was terribly wrong, but he couldn't place it.

When he arrived in Dumbledore's office, it seemed like none of them had heard him enter. He had paused on the staircase to overhear the conversation.

"Oh, I knew that," a voice said. "Who was the boy?" The voice was new to him, though it struck a cord somewhere inside him. He had never heard that voice before in his life, he was sure of that, but then again, he had the nagging feeling that he had.

"I think you know who I'm talking about," he heard Dumbledore's voice say.

There was a pause in which Tom pushed open the door and stepped into the office. The boy didn't turn around, or seemed to have heard him enter.

"Tom Riddle, Harry," Dumbledore continued. Suddenly his eyes were on Tom, penetrating and cool.

Harry was up and around faster than he could react with his wand pointed in his face. Tom could taste the fear on the back of his tongue. He was afraid but he was also painfully aware of Harry. His bright emerald green eyes, the same color as the Killing Curse, and his unruly black hair. He had slight circles under his eyes and he looked almost painfully thin.

The hate that radiated off of him made Tom certain that Harry knew him. It made Tom want to grab Harry right then and there and threaten him with the most painful death, or torture, whichever got him what he wanted faster, to make him tell him what had happened to him.

But why would someone hate him that much? Sure he was in Slytherin, but that was no reason. He didn't know or even remember Harry. But just seeing him struck something inside of him just like hearing his voice. Something familiar.

Harry opened his mouth to say something. Tom flinched, his eyes widening with fear as he looked into those haunting green eyes, fearing what he would say. He feared the Killing Curse. He was almost sure that was what Harry was going to say for some reason. But nothing came out.

Harry suddenly dropped into the chair like someone had drained all of the energy out of him. His head was in his hands and his wand in his lap. It looked like he was physically drained though he hadn't done anything strenuous. It made Tom stare at him for a few minutes as he gave a sigh of relief. He had actually thought someone had got up the nerve to finally put him out of his misery.

"Please explain," he heard Harry say. His voice was cracking and tired.

Tom raised an eyebrow and sat down in the chair across from him, looking from Harry to Dumbledore while waiting for the old wizard to start talking.

NOTE: Surprise, surprise. Did anyone see that coming? Anyway, review and I'll post again. Summer school is almost over for me and I'm happy, happy, happy. Too many happy's, right?

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