Summary: It's not every day that someone discovers a new corridor in Hogwarts. When Harry does, he lets his curiosity get the best of him winds up in a lot of trouble, not to mention another time. Can he survive attending Hogwarts in the year 1942 with a sixteen year old Tom Riddle? And how will this encounter change the fates of both boys? HP/TR SLASH

Disclaimer: Sadly enough, I do not own Harry Potter or anything even remotely affiliated with it.


CHAPTER THREE: FROM BAD TO WORSE

--(A/N: This chapter is from Harry's point of view.)--

What on earth? I suddenly found myself with a face full of what I could only assume to be grass. Where the hell was I and how the hell did I get here? One minute I'm looking into some mysterious mirror in a corridor I never knew existed and then next thing I know I'm being attacked by silver mirror goop. I thought I was going to suffocate to death. Could this be heaven...?

I'm still somewhat dazed from being hurtled through the mirror to...well, wherever I am now. The sudden sound of what seems to be footsteps jars me back to reality as I wonder who or what could be approaching. I manage to lift my head slowly, somewhat apprehensive of what I will find. It takes a second for everything to come into focus, but when it does I realize that I'm staring at the feet of a person standing a few feet away from me. I slowly let my eyes travel up to the person's face, taking note of the wand loosely clutched in one hand.

I just lie there for a moment staring blankly at the person's face as I wonder once again where on earth I could be--somewhere in the wizarding world apparently--before the realization that I recognize the face before me sinks in and my features slowly take on a look of shock. You would think that this recognition would bring me some comfort in my current predicament (how do I always end up finding myself in situations like this?), and it would if it were nearly any other face but the one in front of me.

Horror slowly crept upon me as it dawned on me that I was staring at none other than Tom Riddle, or at the very least a Tom Riddle look alike. My mouth dropped open and my eyes widened with horror, but I could do nothing beyond that. My blood ran cold and my mouth went dry as my mind raced. Wasn't he supposed to be dead? I killed him in second year--no, I killed his diary reincarnation...but then where did this one come from? Voldemort's not dead yet, but he's an ugly, snake faced, half human thing...and if this was really Voldemort then why hasn't he killed me yet?

I knew I should take out my wand or at least do something other than just sitting here gaping like a fish, but...he wasn't even aiming his wand at me...what the hell is going on here! I felt like banging my head against the ground, but the grass was too cushy and it didn't seem like a very productive thing to do anyway, though it might help knock some sort of sense back into me. Did I bump my head upon my arrival here? That might explain all of this. Maybe this 'Tom Riddle' standing in front of me was just a hallucination. Or, maybe, this whole thing was just some weird trick of the mirror, or some alternate universe. Or I could have hit my head harder than I thought and this was all some horrible nightmare. Yes, that made sense. It must be one of those. There was no way that this could be real. Could it?

Slowly I began to gather myself up from the grass to stand before what I hoped was only a figment of my imagination. Though if it was, that might mean that I was going crazy...the whole hallucination theory didn't bring me quite so much comfort anymore. I slowly dusted myself off, ridding myself of the bits of grass that had managed to stick to my shirt and pants and absently picked up my Hogwart's robe and invisibility cloak, both of which I had managed to drop in the whole traveling through the mirror ordeal. Hastily, I tucked the cloak underneath my robe, wanting it to remain hidden. You might wonder how I could just go calmly about worrying over my appearance at a time like this, but in this whole surreal, unnerving situation, the sense of normality that the simple action brought me was somewhat welcome. And I couldn't think of anything better to do at the time...so, yeah.

Having picked every bit of grass off of myself that I could find I slowly lifted my gaze back up, hoping that the 'Tom Riddle' that had been standing in front of me might have magically disappeared. Unfortunately, it wasn't so. We stood there staring at each other for a moment, me having to tilt my head back a bit due to the fact that he was a good few inches taller than me, though neither of us seemed to be able to find the words to speak.

Finally, he broke the somewhat awkward silence. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" he spoke in a firm, straightforward manner. He stared coldly at me as I frantically searched for something I could say in response.

"Umm...I..." I began, trying to buy myself a bit of time as I thought. He obviously didn't know who I was and it's not like I was going to come straight out and tell him. I needed a name, and quickly. I could probably still use my first name; Harry was pretty common after all, but perhaps I should be on the safe side. What could I use...well, my father's name was James and it's my middle name too, but no, it would be too obvious. And I certainly couldn't use my mother's name...but maybe her last name would work. Evans could be turned into Evan. Perfect. But as for my last name...Potter certainly wouldn't do, and I couldn't be Evan Evans...I know! It can be Jameson. James' son. Ha-ha! Perfect! I'll be Evan Jameson. "My name is Evan Jameson," I declared to 'Riddle,' who had been glaring at me impatiently during my search for a suitable name.

Now for the second part of the question...how could I answer that? Hell, I didn't even know what I was doing here, so how could I possibly explain it to someone else? Well, I suppose I could just make something up...I could have apparated here somehow, though I wasn't even old enough to get my license yet...Looking around as I scrambled for an answer I suddenly came to the startling realization that I was at Hogwarts, near the quidditch pitch. I must have fallen through the mirror and to what I was gazing at before I was sucked in! Well, the whole apparation thing wouldn't have worked then anyway; the only way you could get onto Hogwarts grounds was by floo or portkey. Ha! That was it! "I portkeyed here," I added in response to 'Riddle.' He raised an eyebrow as if to prompt me to elaborate. Hmm...for what purpose could I be here? Well, who could help me sort out this mess? I know..."I'm here to see Professor Dumbledore," I finished. Surely he would know what to do.

'Riddle' looked at me in a scrutinizing manner; as if he didn't believe I was telling the truth, or at least not all of it. "You've come to see Dumbledore," he repeated in an almost disbelieving manner. "For what purpose have you come to see him?" he questioned, obviously testing me.

"That's between him and me and none of your business," I replied as evenly as I could, trying to sound affronted by his obvious distrust. "And who exactly are you?" I decided to add, pretending that I didn't already know and hoping that I wouldn't get the answer that I thought I would.

"My name is Tom Riddle," he informed me truthfully before changing the subject, "I assume Dumbledore is expecting you. I'll take you to his office." With that he spun around on his heels, his dark green quidditch robes, which I hadn't noticed he was wearing up until now, swishing as he stalked off.

I followed him reluctantly, still feeling somewhat confused by the whole situation. If this was a dream I could only hope that I would wake from it soon. Deciding that I should, perhaps, test my theory of this whole surreal experience being a dream I hesitantly rolled up the left sleeve of the long sleeved shirt I was wearing and pinched the exposed skin. It hurt. Damn.

So this wasn't a dream. But that still didn't exclude my many other theories. And since I really didn't have anything else I could think to do in this situation, I followed demurely after 'Riddle' as he led me inside the large double doors that served as entry to the castle.

We continued along through the entry way passing by a few people who were obviously students. I didn't recognize any of them, though this fact didn't wholly surprise me. 'Riddle' didn't speak to any of them as he began up the large stone steps towards the upper levels, though seeing as none of the students we had come across so far had been wearing Slytherin badges this fact, too, didn't surprise me.

I just kept walking, following the 16 year old form of a man (if you could call Voldemort that) I had been at war with my entire life. I did so with the air of one who accepts what they see only because they expect to wake up, though I now knew that this was no dream. It might as well have been though, for all the credit I gave this whole thing as being real.

I let my gaze wander as I walked, my feet knowing the way automatically from years of experience. Everything looked so...familiar. It all felt so...so much like Hogwarts, so real. Yet I couldn't for one second allow myself to believe that it was. It simply couldn't be.

We continued up to the fourth floor, where 'Riddle' took a right heading towards where I knew the transfiguration classroom and McGonagall's office to be. Hadn't he said he would lead me to Dumbledore's office? But that was on the fifth floor...unless...unless Dumbledore wasn't the headmaster. The sudden realization hit me that he was leading me to what I knew to be McGonagall's office, which must have been Dumbledore's office back when Tom Riddle was going to school--Dumbledore had been thetransfigurations teacher back then, now that I thought about it.

It was like when I had been in Tom Riddle's diary back in second year, only this time I was really here--sort of--instead of merely an unobtrusive observer of past events. So...what exactly was going on then? It was like the mirror had sent me back in time to when Riddle had been in school. But it couldn't really have, could it? This must be some sort of virtual reality. But the thought that I truly could have been sent back in time and that this was all very much real had wiggled its way into my mind and I couldn't dispel it no matter how much I tried to convince myself that it couldn't be so. My hands began to shake slightly as I mechanically continued onwards.

Finally, we made it to McGonagall's--no, Dumbledore's office. Riddle stopped outside of the wide open door before knocking politely on the doorframe to alert the Professor to his presence, though he had no doubt already sensed it. I stood back, out of sight, against the wall as I listened to Dumbledore's familiar voice respond. "Why, hello Mr. Riddle. Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked jovially. I could just imagine the sparkle he would most certainly have in his eye as said that.

"There's someone here to see you. He said you were expecting him," Riddle said in reply, lifting a hand to gesture in my direction.

"Indeed?" Dumbledore asked bemusedly, seeming a bit surprised, though pleasantly so, by the news. "Well, by all means, tellhim to come in," he spoke pleasantly in invitation.

I took a deep breath before stepping hesitantly, though I'm not quite sure why, into the doorframe. I stood there for a moment taking in this younger looking Dumbledore with reddish colored hair before entering and coming to stand before his gadget topped desk. He must have been shocked or at least perplexed by the appearance of someone he had never seen before (or at least not in this time), though he hid it well. "Do sit down, my boy," he spoke kindly to me, gesturing to one of the plush, velvet covered armchairs that faced his desk. I sat down as Dumbledore then turned to address Riddle. "You may be excused now, Mr. Riddle. I thank you for your assistance," he said graciously, effectively dismissing Riddle, who looked back curiously at me before heading off.

Dumbledore turned his attention back to me then, steepling his fingers and leaning back in his larger, cushy chair as he analyzed me with a quite noticeable twinkle in his eyes as he absently put a silencing charm on the room. "Well, now," he began, his voice still kind though somewhat perplexed, "I'm afraid I haven't the faintest idea who you might be." He let out a bit of a chuckle at that announcement, as if he found the whole thing to be rather amusing. Although he looked different in this time he seemed to act no differently than the Dumbledore that I know. I couldn't help but find this fact rather reassuring.

"Well, my name is Evan Jameson," I began, using the alias I had given Riddle, "and I'm afraid I have no idea how I got here." There, I had said it.

Dumbledore lifted an eyebrow questioningly at my words, before steepling his fingers again in thought. "Hmm...that is very interesting now...Mr. Jameson," he spoke, the pause before my fake name, letting me know that he had been able to see right through my lie, though I should have expected no less. He glanced at the Hogwarts robe I still held draped over my arm before continuing, "I assume there is more to the tale than simply that. If you don't mind my asking, how did you come about a Hogwarts robe? I believe I would know if you were a student here. Do you perhaps know someone who goes here?" he questioned me good naturedly.

I faltered. How would I be able to explain the robe? I can't lie to Dumbledore; he would know right away that I'm not being truthful. Then, perhaps the best thing to do would be to tell him the truth. Yes, that way he might be able to help me. My mind made up, I began to recount him with the tale of how I had gotten here, starting with the fact that I was from the future and that my real name was Harry Potter and then telling of my odd discovery of the mysterious corridor and continuing from there until present (which was, technically, as far as I could tell, the past).

He sat there quietly until I had finished, taking everything in as if he had heard many such accounts. I waited patiently for some sort of response from him. He took a few moments, obviously going through everything in his mind and trying to work out the best solution to the predicament, as he sat there absently stroking his lengthy beard. "Well, I can see that we have a bit of a problem," he intoned eventually, stating something which I thought to be rather obvious, in his wise and knowing voice. I couldn't help but let out a slight scoff as I heard the term 'bit of a problem.' It was a pretty damn big problem in my mind. I kept that thought to myself, though, as I waited for him to continue. "I'm afraid I see no way to return you to your proper time, Mr. Potter--though perhaps I should call you Mr. Jameson while you're here. Seeing as how we have no idea how you got here in the first place and we don't have a spell to return you to the future, I suppose you shall just have to stay here, in this time, and make the best of it."

I sat there, stunned, as the words Dumbledore had just spoken slowly sank in. I felt like laughing hysterically. Perhaps I really had lost my mind, because this could so not be happening. Dumbledore was supposed to be able to fix this damned mess, not sit here and tell me to 'make the best of it.' What did he expect me to do, live out the rest of my life here! Yet I couldn't really blame him for this mess. After all, it was all my fault.

Damn my insatiable curiosity! Now I had gone and gotten myself into a situation I couldn't get out of. I felt like banging my head against the desk in front of me, or ripping my hair out, or at the very least screaming at the top of my lungs in frustration. But, seeing as none of those things would make the situation any better, although they might make me feel a little better, I managed to refrain myself, settling for hyperventilating instead. Damn it. Damn it all! What the hell was I supposed to do now?


AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well, another chapter is complete. If you hadn't noticed, this one is considerably longer than the other two, a fact which I am rather proud of. (Don't expect all of the chapters to necessarily be this long, though.) Anyways, you get to see Harry's reaction to Tom in this chapter, which I hope satisfied all of you dear readers out there. I'm thinking about doing the next chapter from Dumbledore's perspective as he comes up with a plan for Harry to become a student at Hogwarts and makes all of the arrangements for it. Tell me what you think, please, if you have any opinion on that idea. Thank you to everyone who reads this fic and especially to those of you who have reviewed!

Review responses have been removed due to FF's new rule against them. Sorry.