Summary: A thoroughly impossible freak accident transports our favorite attractive psychopath forward in time from 1942 to 1996. Harry Potter/Tom Riddle slash. In this chapter, Harry and Tom both begin their sixth year at Hogwarts, not knowing that they will meet in a matter of hours.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Tom Riddle, or any other people, places or objects that may appear in this humble work of fiction.
Warnings: Possible spoilers up to the fifth book. M/M, obviously. Rating is down as T for now but may, possibly, increase to M as things progress.
Author's Note: Sorry, I would have posted this last night, but there was a nasty storm :( Thanks for the great reviews; I did received one question that I'll answer at the end of this chapter.

Chapter Three: Lending a Helping Hand

Harry's first day back at Hogwarts had gone well enough so far, although he was shocked at just how different N.E.W.T.-level study promised to be. He had thought he'd be getting off pretty easy that year with just five classes to take (Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, and Defense Against the Dark Arts) but, as he had discovered in Transfiguration that morning, they were expected to do massive amounts of work outside class. In Transfiguration, there was a lot of theory to comprehend about human-animal transformations before they could even begin to start transforming each other, and their new set book, Really Advanced Transfiguration for Beginners, Vol. I was about three times thicker than their last two Transfiguration textbooks combined. He didn't know how he was going to survive even five classes if they were all going to be as challenging as that.

Herbology after break turned out to be just as bad. Professor Sprout expected them to come out regularly to work in the most dangerous greenhouses in order to learn how to identify and grow hazardous species, as well as learn how to identify them on the spot and list off which parts of the plants were used for specific remedies. Neville was the only one who appeared remotely enthusiastic about all this, which was to be expected, since Herbology was his best subject.

Fortunately, Harry found that he and Ron had the rest of the day off after lunch; Hermione still had Potions and Ancient Runes, so they wouldn't see her again before dinner. 'You two had better start on your homework,' said Hermione, who was still shaken by the piles of work that had already been forced on them just halfway through her day.

'Hermione, you have to drop something, and that's it,' Ron said as he drank a bowl of soup. He swallowed a mouthful, then said, 'There won't be anything left of you a few weeks from now if you carry on in all your classes. Why don't you just drop a couple of the stupid ones, like History of Magic and Astronomy?'

'Astronomy is not stupid!' she cried. 'Nor is History of Magic!'

'Even the really hard jobs like Healer and Auror only require a handful of N.E.W.T.s, Hermione,' Harry pointed out. 'There's no need to take ten. What's the point?'

'I want to keep my options open,' Hermione replied primly.

'McGonagall warned you about taking too many classes this year,' Ron said. 'You're going to run yourself ragged like you did in our third year. You need to narrow your options!'

'Fine, fine, I'll think about it,' she said. 'Let's just see how it goes, and if things do get too hectic, I may consider dropping a course or two. I don't intend to take on so much that I can't keep my grades up.'

She set her napkin down on the table. 'I'd better get to Potions.'

'I'll come with you,' Ron volunteered, standing up. 'Uh, I mean, that new Ancient Runes textbook of yours looks heavy, want me to… ?'

'Here,' Hermione replied, taking it from her bag and dropping it into Ron's arms. It did look heavy; it was only about a hundred pages slimmer than their new Transfiguration text.

'See you in a bit, Harry. I'll meet you back in the common room,' Ron said.

'Yes, and I'll see you at dinner,' Hermione called as they walked away.

'Bye,' Harry replied. Once they had left, he took one last sip of juice before standing up and walking away from the table.

Tom was having an awful first day of term, and it was all Dumbledore's fault. First, he hears from one of his housemates (as if Dumbledore didn't have the time or opportunity to tell Tom personally in the past two months instead of making him look like an ignorant fool!) that Dumbledore is setting up a Junior Dark Force Defense League at the school. Second, he learns that this club is an exclusive, invitation-only affair. Third, he finds out that the invitations have already gone out, and that he was not invited. It's not fair! Tom thought. I'm the best ruddy student in the whole school, and he doesn't invite me to have a share in an advanced Defense club! As a matter of fact, none of the Slytherins were invited, and if that wasn't an example of Dumbledore thumbing his nose at the entire bloody House, Tom didn't know what was. That prejudiced, dirty, pathetic… Tom was livid about it. If anyone in this school deserves to learn advanced magic, it's me! Did he really think he could keep this a secret from me, of all people?

Things hadn't improved in Transfiguration, during which Tom exercised every last ounce of control he possessed not to give Dumbledore outrageously dirty looks throughout the period. Then, like icing on the cake, Dumbledore had ignored him completely for the entire class, except for saying 'very good, Mr. Riddle,' not even looking Tom in the eye as he passed, after Tom performed an extremely complex transfiguration that turned the boy in the seat next to him into a hare. They weren't even expected to make their partners furry or slimy at all for weeks! Next time I'll change him into an elephant. I'd like to see Dumbledore ignore that!

God, I need a cigarette.

Tom wasn't feeling hungry, so he decided to go chat with Professor Arruns, the Divination teacher. She'll give me a cigarette, he smiled, she hates smoking alone. Tom didn't smoke nearly as often as many of the boys at the school. He was given barely enough money every year to cover the cost of his books, supplies and robes, and it was certainly not enough to buy packages of Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, or cigarettes very often. Most of the teachers smoked, though, and several of them were not averse to sharing. Arruns smoked like a chimney.

He reached the Divination classroom, which was a large and dingy room on the third floor that always smelled like cigarettes. The door was open, and Professor Arruns was sitting in a chair, her legs crossed, her eyes closed, and her head leaning back against the headrest of her chair. She looked exhausted. 'Professor Arruns?' Tom called, pasting his best, toothy grin on his face.

She turned her head to look at him and smiled warmly in return. 'Well, if it isn't my favorite student. And how many times have I told you to call me Adora?' she purred.

In fact, she told him that every time they spoke, but he knew that she enjoyed telling him to call her by her first name in that flirtatious tone of voice she had used with him since his fourth year, so he indulged her by calling her 'Professor' first. 'My apologies, Adora,' he said. 'I didn't mean to interrupt, but I was hoping that you might enjoy some company before class…?' He looked around, and noticed that the room was mysteriously empty of any crystal balls, teacups, or other divining devices, but didn't ask any questions. Arruns was one of those teachers who hated questions of any kind that didn't have to do with her.

'Mmm,' she said. 'Sit.' Arruns gestured to the chair in front of her desk, which he knew she always kept there before class for this very purpose. He sat down smoothly, his eyes and his grin never leaving her face. 'Would you like a cigarette?' she asked him, smiling while producing a pack from the left pocket of her robes.

'Don't mind if I do,' he replied, taking one from between her outstretched fingers. Why the hell else would I be coming to see you, you daft old cow? You think I enjoy flirting with women twice my age? Tom pulled out his wand and used it to light the cigarette, placing it in that position between his lips that the bathroom mirror thought looked quite dashing. Arruns lit a cigarette of her own and took a long drag.

'How was your summer, Adora? It's really too bad you didn't spend the holidays here at Hogwarts. We could have gotten to know each other better,' he said, using that slight pout that made people think he was a little hurt or disappointed.

'Oh, Tom!' she sighed. She was so easy to flatter; he had done even better than usual. 'I'm afraid I was quite busy this summer, you know. It was no fault of yours that I wasn't here, I assure you. And after all that business with the Chamber of Secrets last year, many of us teachers just wanted to get away! But, of course, you fixed all that! If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have a job to come back to this year!' she laughed.

Modesty, Tom, modesty. 'I'm sure someone else would have discovered Hagrid soon enough.' Really, what kind of an idiot tries to raise an acromantula in a cupboard?

'Tom, don't be so modest! You got that award for a reason,' she said.

They continued chatting and smoking until they had both finished their cigarettes simultaneously; Tom had to smoke faster than usual to keep up with her. 'Ah, that's just what I needed after this morning's classes,' she said when they were finished. 'Speaking of which, you may have noticed that the room is a bit barren this year. I'm moving the classroom up to the top of the North Tower.'

'Really?' Tom said. 'Why is that?'

'Peeves. Surely you remember how often he disrupted class last year? He has it out for me, I swear,' she sighed. 'I'm hoping that he won't want to bother traveling so far out to annoy me. Dippet is too soft on him.'

'At any rate,' she continued. 'Since you're here so early, I was hoping that you could help me with a little errand.'

'Errand?' Tom asked, trying to keep his voice light. I'm not a slave boy, Arruns…

Harry was taking the long way back to the Gryffindor common room, hoping to reach it around the same time as Ron so they could start their homework together (or play chess, or go out flying… Hermione need never know) when he was stopped by a shout of 'Potter, Potter!' from a corridor he had just passed. He backed up and looked down the dimly lit hall to see someone he had hoped to never see again: Professor Trelawney.

Not her! Harry thought desperately, trying to think of any way to get away without seeming rude, but Professor Trelawney had obviously spotted him, and she must know that he had spotted her, since he was looking right into her giant spectacles. She appeared to be struggling with a large wooden crate. Relenting, Harry walked down the corridor towards her, none too happily. 'Yes, Professor?' he said in a monotone.

'Mr. Potter, I could use some help.'

Wonderful, thought Harry. Just wonderful.

Xenia Black: Harry has no problem with Dumbledore; I feel that they resolved their issues in Order of the Phoenix. At the very least, I don't subscribe to the theory that Harry is a bitter little boy who thinks Dumbledore is manipulating him for his own gain. Dumbledore only kept information from Harry because he cared, and Harry couldn't dislike him for that any more than he could dislike Mrs. Weasley.