Author's Notes: Thanks again to my reviewers: Maelys, The Enchanted Teakettle, Phinea, Larken27, KrazieChickadee, forceuser1456, LavenderBrown77, LovinLovegood1, Odessa, Wren, twighunter, ChuckTheGingy, All-American Vampire, Firithnovwen, Nimbus B, Airlady, moonlights desire, and Aarzu. I never expected to get so many reviews! Again, responses to anonymous reviews are up on my profile.

So without further ado, here's yet another nice long chapter for everyone.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the Harry Potter universe; JK Rowling does.

Recap from Chapter 21:

'True Immortals, walking the earth,' Tom said softly. His eyes held a rabid gleam, a hunger.

It made Honora hungry for it, too. If she achieved immortality through alchemy, not the Dark Arts, she would be one of the greatest wizards in history. It would also mean she might live to see her own time again, 2112, and see it a happy place of laughter and freedom. That is, if Tom Riddle would include her in his scheme.

Chapter 22

Reckoning

When spring arrived in blooming force, Honora and Dumbledore went over the names for the recipients of the Crowley Memorial Scholarship, and Honora decided to ask him about his defeat of Grindelwald. It had made Dumbledore incredibly famous.

'Is that where you were this year, sir? I mean, during your absences?'

'Yes, Miss Crowley. I had made it my mission long ago to help stamp out Dark wizards such as Grindelwald. The time was right for me to finish the job.'

'And how did you do it? I don't want to be impertinent for asking, Professor, but we are all very curious.'

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at her. 'Curiosity is natural,' he agreed. 'But the only thing I can tell you about Grindelwald is that he overstretched himself. He tried too much, all at once. He took certain…measures to try to ensure that he could never be defeated. It made him arrogant, and that was his downfall.'

Grindelwald made a Horcrux, Honora suddenly realised. That's what he's talking about. And Dumbledore must have destroyed the Horcrux, along with Grindelwald's body-bound soul.

'You're right, Miss Crowley,' Dumbledore interrupted her thoughts.

Honora realised with a swoop of dismay that he had used Legilimency on her while she was distracted. Damn. Unable to deny her knowledge, Honora looked Dumbledore straight in the eyes. 'I guessed, anyway.'

'I take it you have discovered what Horcruxes are since our last conversation about them.'

Honora nodded. Of course, she had known about Horcruxes long before then, but what Dumbledore did not know would not hurt him.

'And what are your thoughts, Miss Crowley?' Dumbledore pressed his fingers together, looking at her with interest.

'I think they're a stupid idea,' Honora blurted. It made Dumbledore chuckle.

'Stupid! Yes, yes, they are a rather stupid thing to do. You see, when the soul is split like that, housed in an object, the two pieces are rather independent of each other. One can be destroyed without the other one knowing about it. It is a weakness, as well as being a horrendous method of trying to avoid death.'

Honora bobbed her head in agreement. 'Well, there are nicer ways of going about immortality, anyway.'

'You've been speaking with our Head Boy, Mr. Riddle.' It was a statement, not a question.

With a blush, Honora looked down. Oh, yes, she had been speaking with him. 'Don't worry, sir. I don't think he's made any Horcruxes.'

'Are you in a position to know if he has?' Dumbledore peered closely at Honora. She felt that under his gaze it was useless to even attempt to hide the nature of her relationship with Tom.

'Yes I am, sir,' she answered. She waited for Dumbledore to lecture her on propriety of Head Boy-Head Girl relations and the breaking of school rules.

Instead, he just smiled benevolently. 'Good. I have always thought that Mr. Riddle could benefit from a little feminine love and guidance.' Dumbledore held a knowing look in his eye. 'Well, Miss Crowley, I'm afraid I must catch up on grading this large stack of essays.' He waved his hand at a pile of parchment six feet high, teetering behind him. 'But please, take a lemon drop on your way out.'

'Thank you, Professor,' Honora grinned somewhat sheepishly as she took a sweet. 'Bye.'

In early May, every Hogwarts house (except Slytherin) hosted huge common room parties for the Muggle-born students. On May 8, the Muggle war in Europe had officially ended with the unconditional surrender of Germany. The V-E Day party in Ravenclaw Tower was a boisterous affair; even Kay St John cut loose and let Ash dance her around the room.

Sipping a butterbeer with Damaris, Honora commented that it was a good thing for Dumbledore.

'I know. Ever since he defeated Grindelwald, this has been in the cards. Oh, look at Kay and Willow!'

The two girls, both of whom had family in the British Army, were now using their wands to conduct the members of the Ravenclaw Music Club into a warbled version of 'God Save the King.' Honora laughed and joined in the singing, making Ash hit her good-naturedly with a pillow. 'Please, don't ever sing in public,' he pleaded with hands together.

Damaris turned to Honora more seriously. 'Graduation is in a month and a half,' she said. 'What are you doing then?'

'Well, I have an interview with Gringotts on the first of July,' Honora said. She had gotten a letter from them the week before. 'If that goes well, I'll go into Curse-breaker training.'

'Golly,' Damaris replied. 'That's a pretty extreme thing to do, I mean, it's so dangerous!'

'I laugh in the face of danger!'

'Clearly. After all, you're going with Tom Riddle. You have to admit there's something creepy about him.'

'Damaris!' Honora gaped at her friend. 'I'm not going out with Tom!'

'And you call him Tom now, instead of Riddle,' Damaris persisted. 'Please. I'm not a Ravenclaw for being stupid and unobservant.'

Honora rolled her eyes. 'Okay. Fine. We are…slightly more than friends. But nothing is official and I don't want you telling anyone!'

'Kay knows.'

'Oh. Well, other than her.'

'And Lawrence.'

'Damaris!'

'What? He's my fiancé. I tell him everything. Besides, it's nothing to be ashamed of. To tell the truth, I've suspected for awhile that you had an interest in Tom Riddle.'

Yeah, an interest in killing Tom Riddle, Honora thought. She fixed Damaris with a stern glare. 'No one else, okay? Tom is…and I am…well, let's just say it's kind of a weird relationship. I doubt his Slytherin hangers-on would approve, and I don't want to push him away.'

'Don't worry. It would not be the first time, or the last, that the Head Boy and Head Girl ended up together.'

'Really? Who else?'

'Oh, four years ago, both Heads were Gryffindors and they ended up married the next year,' Damaris said.

'Huh,' Honora said. 'Interesting. But then, those were Gryffindors, not a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw.'

'That's what you know!' Damaris's eyes glittered with gossip. 'There is an old, old rumour that Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin were lovers.'

'No!' Honora's eyes lit up. She loved stories like that. 'And what happened?'

Damaris licked her lips. 'Well, as you know, the four founders of Hogwarts were irrevocably removed from Slytherin, when he would not relent on his position on Muggle-borns in the school. Ravenclaw tried to talk sense into him, desperate to remain with her lover, but Slytherin left forever after a huge row with Godric Gryffindor. They had been best friends, you know.'

'That must be why Gryffindor House and Slytherin House hate each other so much.'

'And Ravenclaw and Slytherin are more similar than many would admit,' added Damaris. 'Long-lost lovers, never reunited. It's such a sad tale.'

'But is it true?'

Damaris shrugged. 'Probably. These stories don't come from nowhere, you know.'

'Yeah,' Honora said. 'They all must have been very interesting people.'

One night, as she lay stretched out on her bed in her room, moonlight streaming over her, Honora finally did some thinking. She knew that as the end of the year approached, and the end of her time at Hogwarts, she had a decision to make. The reckoning had been put off; Honora had been easily distracted by other matters. In her heart she did not want to confront one certain thing: she had been sent back in time to destroy Tom Riddle before he became Lord Voldemort, and she had not done it.

Her feelings were so mixed up. Somewhere in her head the person of Tom Riddle ceased to be Lord Voldemort, yet logically she knew they were the same person. He had probably even made up the name for himself already.

Yet fate had stepped in, Honora had been thrown together with Tom and irreconcilable things had happened. She started caring about him, started being his friend, and then she had started loving him. Honora wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt; she wanted to be with him.

Who am I to make that decision? her head scolded her. I'm only eighteen. I think I know Tom Riddle; what if I don't? THIS IS MY LAST CHANCE. Honora knew that the people of Polaris and the centaurs of Centurion, those who had sent her here, would be horrified that she was considering letting Tom Riddle graduate from Hogwarts alive. Once the school year was over, Tom could disappear, only to show up decades later as Lord Voldemort. She may be in love with Tom, but she loved her grandmother first. It was Honora's duty to do the right thing by her family.

She thought about her grandmother, Eleanor Weasley. If you had fallen in love with him, Grandmother, what would you do? No voice in her head replied to the query.

Sighing as she burrowed into her pillows, Honora could not get to sleep as she turned the problem over. Sometime during the night, she decided she could only afford to give Tom Riddle one more chance. She had to find out his intentions; how good or evil he was going to turn out to be. If he passed the test, then she would tell him the truth about herself, her upbringing in Polaris, the events of 2112, the whole lot, and hope that he still wanted her.

And…if Tom failed her test, then she would kill him. If that put her in Azkaban for the rest of her life, then it was too bad. It was time for Honora Crowley to step up to her responsibility.

The next day in during her Charms class, Honora sat with Damaris, gossiping and not really paying attention. It was a review session ofold material, NEWT-level charms that Honora had long ago learned, and most of the class engaged in their own conversations. Mid-way through the lecture hour, a note fluttered its way across the room and landed on Honora's desk. Avoiding Damaris's look of avid curiosity, she opened it and smiled, familiar warmth spreading through her.

Be in your room at eight o'clock after dinner.

The note was unsigned, but she knew it was from Tom. With a glance across the classroom, she met his eye and nodded. How is he going to sneak into my room? she wondered, but then remembered that he was Tom Riddle, and he did whatever he wanted.

Her heart was light and happy when Honora skipped from dinner in the Great Hall at ten minutes to eight. Tom had not been present at the Slytherin table, and she wondered what kind of sweet surprise he might have prepared. She stopped in the girls' loo to set her hair in the right place, and pinched her cheeks to give them a nice flush.

With a hopeful smile on her face, Honora bid goodnight to her friends in the Ravenclaw common room, crept up her stairs, and opened the heavy wooden door to her room. She slipped inside, closed the door behind her, and with sparkling eyes beheld Tom Riddle, lounged casually across her bed.

When she saw what he was holding, the laughter died in her throat and the blood drained from her face.

It was her gold family locket, and he flipped it effortlessly between his long white fingers, his dark eyes boring into her.

Oh God. Honora could not move for fear, and all of a sudden she knew that he knew everything about her true history. It was the worst possible thing that could have happened, at the worst possible time, and she could not imagine how Tom had gotten hold of the locket.

'I believe I have something of yours,' he said flatly.

Honora gulped. 'Tom, I can explain—'

'I think you had better.'

'How did you find it?' She had to know.

'Your little trinket was recently brought to my attention by a friend. Seems he has a bit of a yen for you, and had been holding on to it since last year, but was unable to open it due to an old blood magic that kept it closed. Of course, such enchantments are no match for me.' Tom's voice was calm, but Honora thought there was a higher note of upset in there somewhere.

Lestrange, Honora realised. She had run into him on her way to the Astronomy Tower to look for her locket, at the end of last year. He had acted so peculiar, and now she understood why. Oh, of all people to find it!

Slowly, Honora walked toward her bed, her face a mask of sorrow and contrition, desperate tears building behind her eyes. 'Tom, listen to me. There's something you need to understand, and I would have told you, but there was just never the right moment, and…' she trailed off. Of course Tom would not trust her now. She had been keeping a vast secret from him.

'Sit,' he ordered, patting a place next to him on the bed. 'I await your explanation with bated breath.'

Honora nearly rolled her eyes. He was not going to make this easy. She sat down, looking into his eyes. Best to get it over with, then.

'I'm from the future,' she said, realising how absurd it sounded.

Tom merely looked at her.

'I—I was born in a place called Polaris, in the year 2095. An island. I don't even know where it was, exactly…I lived there until I turned seventeen, when I was sent back here. That's all.'

'That does not explain anything,' Tom said, impatiently. He sat up, staring at her. 'I'm afraid I'll need to go deeper.'

'What?' Honora's eyes widened. Suddenly there he was, trying to get inside her head again, and automatically she put up her Occlumency defences.

'Honora,' Tom said, grasping her neck with his hand.

She whimpered. 'No…please…' Perhaps she was distracted, unprepared, or too distraught, but suddenly Occlumency seemed impossible. Tom's mind was strong, too strong, she could not resist it any more, she wanted to give up in her helplessness…He pressed in on all sides now, she could feel him delve deeper, harder, and with a sigh she felt him break through her last barrier. She had no choice but to surrender to him.

Keeping eye contact the whole way, Tom and Honora laid down side by side, his hand supporting her head.

Honora was terrified. Her mind was bare to him, and he was inside her, probing and sorting through her thoughts and memories. One very important thing floated to the surface, and as she gazed into his indigo eyes she knew that he was seeing and hearing it, too. They lay there, unblinking at each other, in eerie silence, as Honora's memory went back to Polaris…

Honora was fourteen years old, sitting cross-legged up against a rough stone wall, wearing the drab uniform brown robes of the Shadow Kingdoms. Finally, her grandmother was telling her the details of their true situation, the grim reality of life in Polaris, those outside truths from which she had been sheltered her entire life.

'Lord Voldemort is the ruler of the world, and has been since the end of the Last War,' Eleanor said. 'We all know that. But he is so much more, too. He's not even human anymore…He instils terror everywhere, using the dark creatures, and the Muggles exist in a sort of dream-nightmare world, unreal and illusory…'

'The Dark pure-blood families are his enforcers…'

'I must tell you, Honora, that there are only eight Shadow Kingdoms left. Our only chance at survival is a rebellion, but there are not enough resources, there is no one left…'

'He won his war against the wizarding world in the year 2001…'

'The Death Eaters rampaged through Europe…'

'You can't go above-ground. It's not safe…'

'Everyone to the dungeons! This is a drill, this is a drill, this is a drill…'

'We will never give in to Lord Voldemort!...'

'Stay inside! The Dark forces will find you otherwise, don't you see, they will torture you until you break and they will kill you…'

Honora looked around, shivering, drawing her furs in closer to her. The iron-grey sea crashed upon sharp rocks, unfriendly and snarling. The sky was full of swirling dark clouds, moving fast, streaks of putrid green lighting them from within, a remnant of Dark magic done somewhere, sometime…Several guards walked about on the rocks, frost-bitten and shivering, their wands ever-vigilant. If this was what the outside looked like, Honora preferred to stay in the caves. 'Mr. Poundstone, what happens if the Death Eaters find us?...'

'Honora, little one, I know you don't understand, but your parents won't be coming back…'

'Our world is dying…'

And then, the fair lady centaur, Morrigan…

'This is a first, this alliance between humans and centaurs…it has become that desperate, where we must alter the continuum of time itself…I never thought it would come to this…'

And then, Julius Talbot, speaking to her just before the alignment…

'Tom Riddle is evil, and dangerous. He is Lord Voldemort, and don't forget it. I know it will be difficult on you personally, but you must have the strength to see it through. You must kill Riddle before he can become Lord Voldemort, before he gains power…you are our only hope…'

And then many images at once, as Honora's mind was plundered, one right after the other: huddling in the caves, frightened, crashes from above, rock falling on heads, stepping into the frightful humming radiance of a crack in time…

Suddenly Tom was gone, out of her mind, leaving it floating, light and numb. Honora gasped and shuddered, closing her eyes tightly, finally free of his overpowering presence. Tears streamed down her cheeks as he withdrew his hand from around her neck, letting her head fall backwards.

The headache began several minutes later, a dull throbbing in the wake of the invasion. Honora opened her eyes, and even the candlelight was impossibly bright to her. As she shook slightly, trying to marshal her inner strength for recovery, she saw Tom's sitting silhouette, gazing down at her. There was a strange medley of expression on his face. Confusion, hurt, anger, disbelief, shock, and…did she imagine it? Sorrow.

Tom licked his lips, furrowed his brow. 'All this, for what? So you could get closer to me? So you could destroy me, Honora?'

'At first,' Honora's breath hitched. 'But I just couldn't…maybe I'm weak. I don't know. But somewhere along the line it changed, and now, God help me, I care for you.'

'And you knew all along, that this—' he gestured at the air with his hand, '—this is what I was going to become? You knew the name I had created for myself, Lord Voldemort?'

Honora nodded, still feeling helpless on her back as she looked up at him. 'I'm so sorry, Tom. I never meant for you to find out this way. I was going to tell you, but first I had to be sure.'

'Sure of what?'

'That…maybe you had changed.' With a concerted effort at strength, Honora sat up, helping herself up with her elbows. 'And I know you now. You're not evil, ambition isn't wrong, and you have me, you know.'

Tom's dark gaze was unrelenting, and Honora watched as he slowly worked his features into a mask, betraying no more emotion. He was frightening, and she was not sure if he wanted to kill her or kiss her. Or both.

She decided to try again. 'All right, now you know my secret. You know my secret, and I know yours. There's nothing but truth between us anymore, Tom. I promise. And you are the only one who knows where I come from. I haven't told my friends, or anyone else. Certainly not Dumbledore, or Dippet. It's your knowledge, so do with it what you want.'

'I trusted you. And you lied to me.' His voice was utterly cold, laced with hurt.

The accusation and its truth ripped through Honora, filling her eyes with tears again, a lump forming in her throat. 'Oh, Tom! Don't you see? I couldn't say anything, even if I'd wanted to! Even though I did want to! I'm so sorry. I wish it wasn't like this, I wish it was normal. But you must believe me: I want to help you. The future you saw in my head does not have to be the real future, because we can change it.' Honora sounded unconvincing, even to herself. She could not tell whether it was enough of an apology for Tom. Now she was just grasping for him, feeling him slip out of her reach.

She stared down at the brocade pattern on her bedcover, blinking back the tears, and a terrible question entered her mind. What if I'm the one who drove him to become Lord Voldemort? What if I was always supposed to come back in time, and anger him so much, and show him that he would be successful if he turned to evil? The thought was too horrible to contemplate, its consequences too ghastly. Honora could not, would not believe it.

Raising her eyes to Tom once more, she saw that he too was studying the pattern on the bedspread, apparently reeling from the implications of what he had just learned. Honora still wanted him to have one more chance at redemption; she could not help it. He may have had a real insane streak, but there was goodness and caring in him, too. Tom Riddle was still human, and Honora wanted to believe in him.

Abruptly, Tom got up from the bed, leaving the gold locket. 'I need to go,' he muttered. 'I—I need to go.'

Honora reached out and grasped his arm. 'Tom.'

He turned back to her, gazing over her tear-stained face. 'What?' he whispered.

'If you can forgive me…I just want you to know that I've already forgiven you. For everything you did in my time…well, it wasn't even you, really. That world is lost and gone. Whatever you decide to do now, I support you, I'm behind you.' Honora took a deep, shuddering breath. 'Tom, I have faith in you, even if no one else ever has.'

He flinched as though she had struck him. Then he ripped his arm out of her hold and walked out the door, closing it softly behind him.

Honora had just enough foresight to cast a Silencing charm on the door, then burst into loud, racking sobs, unable to contain it any longer. She cried and cried, clenching her pillow in her hands, curled up in a half-ball, wishing she could die.

This was not what she had planned for, and it was the last way she wanted Tom to find out about her past, and his future. It had all gone so wrong, and she felt extremely guilty for letting it go on so. She could not blame Tom Riddle if he never forgave her; she had lied to him repeatedly, made up things, been sent to kill him, for heaven's sake, and had deceived him all the while. Her web had caught up with her, and now she was losing the only man she could ever love.

'This is so wrong,' she sobbed hoarsely to herself. 'So wrong…' She cried for another two hours, until she exhausted herself of tears and feeling.

A/N: Please review! For those of you are interested in psychology, I've put a more detailed analysis of this chapter up on my profile. It mainly covers Tom's psychopathology, and what the revelations in this chapter might mean, so take a look!