The rest of the day really was a blur. Harry had never seen so many strange and fascinating things. However, everything felt hollow and awkward, as if him and Tom were disjointed.

Harry stepped out of Ollivander's feeling disturbed and confused.

Harry severely hoped Ollivander was just mad, but Hagrid's reaction to Tom was screaming doubts in his head. Tom seemed content in not speaking to him, while Hagrid was present, which was driving Harry crazy. He needed to speak about the implications that Ollivander had suggested.

It was an agonising few hours later before they finally made their way back to the station.

"Got time fer a bite before the train leaves," Hagrid said. He bought Harry a hamburger and they sat down on plastic seats to eat them.

"You all right, Harry? Yer very quiet," Hagrid asked.

Harry was doing everything but look towards Tom. He braced himself, fearing the worse.

"What was his name?" Harry asked. "The wizard who killed my parents?" Harry tried to ignore Tom as he stiffened beside him.

Hagrid once again shared a look with Ilaria before she nodded slowly.

"Yeh can't go off to Hogwarts not knowin,'" Hagrid gave in, looking sad. Harry barely drew breath as he waited.

"Voldemort," Hagrid whispered.

"That's not his real name."

It was more of a statement than a question.

Hagrid's eyes definitely flicked over towards Tom this time, although brief Harry noticed.

"No," he agreed softly. "It's not."

Harry felt sick, it pretty much confirmed everything. They were silent all the way home.

Hagrid didn't seem to notice the tension between Harry and Tom as he continued to chat unaware. Ilaria, Hagrid's dæmon, however was shifting her sharp eyes back and forth between the two. It was only a faint relief when they stepped back onto the neat lawn of Privet Drive.

Hagrid was rummaging through his large coat, seemingly unaware that Harry just wanted to get inside.

"Happy birthday, Harry."

He produced a small squashed cardboard box. Harry blinked.

"Go on, open it Harry," Hagrid urged.

Harry opened it, his hands trembling, and he at once didn't know what to say. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with Happy Birthday Harry written on it with green icing.

"Thank you," he stumbled.

"Made it meself," Hagrid declared proudly as Tom coughed lightly. Harry momentarily distracted, caught onto the hint.

"I better get inside," he prompted awkwardly. "The Dursley's-"

"Course," Hagrid agreed, as he rummaged through his coat pocket once more.

He then produced an envelope and handed it over.

"Yer ticket fer Hogwarts," he said "First o' September – Kings Cross – it's all on yeh ticket."

Hagrid suddenly looked very sad, his large shoulders sagging as his eyes slid over himself and Tom. Illaria nuzzled her large head underneath his arm, as if sensing his need for comfort.

"Things are wrong," Hagrid said quietly. "But yeh'll be alright Harry."

Harry's automatic response was to defend Tom, but his voice fell short as he faltered. Hagrid nodded to him, ignoring Tom, before he and Ilaria stepped away.

Harry watched him silently, well aware of Tom itching beside him, until a bus drove past and Hagrid vanished completely.

As soon as Hagrid had gone, Tom acted. Grabbing Harry by the front of his t-shirt and hauling him around the back of the house. Tom slammed him into the brick wall causing Harry to drop his cake.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at?" he demanded, fists clenching the front of his clothes.

Harry shoved him away annoyed. "You're the one who's been acting odd all day."

Tom withdrew his hands as he rolled his eyes, eyes darkening.

"What did you expect?"

Harry bit his tongue, he knew why Tom had been so distant, it just didn't make him feel particularly good. Harry shook his head, hand running through his messy black hair, barely registering that Tom was closer to him then he had been all day.

"I just don't know-"

Tom only raised an eyebrow, and Harry knew what he was waiting for.

Harry took a steadying breath, he may as well take the plunge.

"You're Voldemort."

It felt odd to be saying it out loud, particularly since his churning nerves had been brewing since London.

Tom stepped back slightly, crossing his arms. It was a deliberately casually movement, one which screamed that everything wasn't okay.

"Apparently," Tom replied quietly, eyes unusually unfriendly.

Harry's heart was pounding.

"You killed my parents?" Harry's voice sounded distant and unfamiliar to his own ears.

"You killed me," Tom answered coolly in response as he raised an eyebrow. "So technically we're even."

Harry swallowed at this. This was so wrong, Tom was his, and his alone. Not someone capable of murdering people.

"I don't understand," Harry said, shaking his head. "Do you remember any of it?"

Tom fixed Harry with a very cold stare with this question.

"No. You know I don't."

Harry did know and it had only been an insult to ask. He stared down at his broken birthday cake, half falling out its box and onto the grass. It was doing a good job to sum up how he was feeling.

Tom had killed his parents in some way or another, that was the brutal truth. And then somehow he had become Harry's dæmon.

The sun was hanging low in the sky as Harry sighed heavily. He had never wanted to share Tom in the first place, even some doctor threatening to poke round had been almost too much, now they had a whole world to deal with.

He glanced back towards Tom who had his gaze fixed firmly upon Harry. This had been what Tom always wanted. To be noticed. To make something of themselves.

And now Harry was famous, in some twisted way or another.

"Something obviously went wrong when you tried to kill me," Harry said.

"Voldemort," Tom stated, he didn't even blink.

"Huh?"

"When Voldemort tried to kill you," Tom correctly bluntly. Harry looked away, stomach churning, already he had combined Tom and Voldemort into the same, and that wasn't fair.

Tom sighed, seemingly losing patience with him, as he stepped closer to Harry, one arm outstretched against the wall, holding him in place.

Automatically Harry turned his gaze down, but Tom caught his chin forcing Harry's eyes back up to his own.

"If I used to be Voldemort, I am no longer. We're together now," Tom stated firmly, eye's locked on.

Harry felt his stomach flip uncomfortably.

"You're still Voldemort," Harry pointed out heavily.

"So? Does that change anything?" Tom's gaze sharpened, daring him to say otherwise.

Harry faulted at this, instantly feeling more ashamed. Tom was still his dæmon, Dark Lord or not. Harry's eyes flicked down to stare at Tom's shoes.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"So you should be," Tom stated tersely as if this whole disagreement was nothing more then some minor inconvenience. "Now come on, I want to read those books."

Harry relented, bending down to rescue what remained of his first birthday cake. There was no point in wasting it. He followed Tom sullenly back to the house, barely registering what had happened.

It was almost like an odd relief as Harry relaxed, he didn't have to share Tom with anyone else for the day. No other witch or wizard was going to come knocking on their door and even if they did, Uncle Vernon wouldn't let them in the house.

Harry emptied out his shopping into his cupboard, it was a pretty tight squeeze considering it now had a whole trunk in it. Grabbing the two books they had picked out, Harry turned to make his way to find somewhere to read, only to come face to face with uncle Vernon.

"Upstairs," he stated gruffly. Harry didn't understand, as Tom shrugged.

"Dudley's old room," Uncle Vernon said. "It's your room now, move your things upstairs now before I change my mind."

Harry thought he had misheard as he stared at his Uncle.

"Get your stuff later," Tom instructed, as he moved past Uncle Vernon and up the stairs.

Harry watched him carefully, before he nodded. This was more important.

"I wouldn't touch any of my things by the way," Harry said to Uncle Vernon. "Hagrid said if anyone but a wizard touched it, well..." Harry paused, deliberately leaving his sentence hanging. Harry couldn't tell if it was the threat, or the fact he had said the word wizard, which caused Uncle Vernon to turn purple. He hurried after Tom, not waiting to find out.

Dudley's old room was full of broken toys, a broken bike was leaning in the corner, and several smashed toys and consoles were dotted about.

Tom kicked a toy car across the floor as he leaned against the wardrobe. Harry hesitated before he moved over to the bed, displacing a pile of old clothes that didn't fit Dudley any more.

It was horrible to feel this awkward with Tom, but one thing they both agreed on, they needed more information. Harry stared at the two books, before selecting the first. Tom only raised an eyebrow at his choice as Harry read the title.

"Me, Myself and My Dæmon," he flicked to the first page.

"Dæmons take the form of animals and are directly connected to their respective witch or wizard. Any animal can represent a dæmon, and they usually appear when a child's magic starts developing, this is common around the age of seven."

Tom had been around since long before then, Harry could never remember a time when they hadn't been together.

"Dæmons are bound to their humans and are usually incapable of being separated by any significant distance. However, some powerful witches and wizards have trained their dæmons to overcome this. Albus Dumbledore, current Headmaster of Hogwarts, and his dæmon Fawkes are well known for this ability and are often seen apart."

That's what Hagrid had said too. Harry had to admit he couldn't see the point of it himself, why would he want Tom to be far away.

Harry flicked through the pages and randomly started reading aloud again for Tom to hear.

"Animagis have the power to possess their dæmons. This causes the witch or wizard to solidify into their transparent dæmons form. During this time the dæmon's consciousness is said to be in a hibernating state until the witch or wizard is separated once more. However, such a task is extremely dangerous and if done incorrectly, can result in the dæmon becoming trapped within the witch or wizards own consciousness indefinitely."

Harry couldn't help but grin slightly.

"That would be fun."

Tom looked slightly disturbed at this. "No, there is no way you're attempting that."

Harry flicked the pages on again.

"If a dæmon dies, usually so will the witch or wizard. In very rare circumstances the person will continue living, but their life will be a shadow of what it was."

"Like Professor Quirrell," Tom added.

Harry nodded.

"Dæmons on the other-hand, cannot live without their human under any circumstance," Harry paused, Tom was looking serious with his head tilted to the side.

Harry placed the book down.

"What?"

"You have all the power," Tom stated quietly. "I depend on you for everything."

Harry didn't know how to respond. Tom was clearly taking this quite hard, regardless that he was apparently the only ever known human dæmon, the fact that he seemed less than Harry was really bothering him.

He had always been special, unique to Harry but now he was something common, written down in hundreds upon hundreds of pages.

Instinctively Harry reached across and picked up the other book they had purchased.

"Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts," Harry read.

Tom snapped to attention, eyes darting round to stare at Harry intensely, his fists clenching by his sides as he didn't move.

Harry flicked to the chapter titled named 'He Who Should Not be Named' as he tried to ignore the awkward knot stirring in his stomach. Harry forced himself to face the worst, there was no way to avoid this otherwise.

"The Dark Lord's dæmon was a giant serpent by the name of Nagini. She was just as deadly as her Lord and a creature to behold."

For some reason Harry hadn't even considered Tom once had a dæmon.

"Usually dæmons converse in the wizards native tongue, however the Dark Lord only spoke to Nagini through parseltongue, the language of snakes. This trait is more commonly known from the famous Hogwarts Founder, Salazar Slytherin which indicates the Dark Lord to be his heir."

"Slytherin?" Tom asked. Harry nodded remembering that Draco had mentioned the name.

"Nagini however disappeared with the Dark Lord, the night he failed to kill Harry Potter," Harry paused, eyes flicking up to Tom warily. Had he really taken Tom's dæmon from him, it left him feeling uncomfortable with a sour taste in his mouth.

"I guess that explains why I can speak to snakes," Tom reasoned. "And it pretty much confirms it. I am Voldemort."

Harry didn't know what to say to this so he resumed reading, before he ended up stopping again as his stomach churned.

"You also seem to have a large number of followers," Harry said as Tom's eyes lit up.

"Who are they?" Tom asked.

"They're called Death Eaters, it doesn't list their names," Harry said.

"I wonder if there is any way of contacting any of them?" Tom mused.

"No way," Harry said, shaking his head. "Chances are they'll want me dead. Plus most of them seem to be locked up in some wizard prison."

"Well they'll certainly keep you in check," Tom smiled broadly.

Harry nearly threw the book at him.

"Don't even joke about this," he said.

Tom shrugged. "Why not, it's pretty funny though. I'm meant to be some impressive Dark Lord, with a powerful army, and yet somehow I'm stuck with you and 11 years old."

"Stuck with me? That's some nerve," Harry said.

However, Tom was still grinning as he moved away from the cupboard towards Harry.

"You have to admit it though?" Tom said as he sat down on the bed casually, as if nothing awkward had ever happened between them. Harry tensed as Tom gripped his shoulders, pulling him back to rest against him.

"Come on Harry, think about it really?" Tom teased. Harry was going to pull away, but something in Tom's tone made him relax instantly.

Tom began running his hands through Harry's hair casually, knowing it would comfort him.

"A few weeks ago we were nothing, and now we're apparently enemies in some wizarding world which no one has bothered telling us about."

"I guess," Harry replied, before another thought surfaced.

"Do you think everyone will act like Hagrid?" Harry asked. "I mean, hostile towards you."

"I'm more hoping for similar reactions like Ollivander's," Tom grinned.

Harry wrinkled his nose at this, that situation didn't sound particularly appealing either. Tom sighed and twisted Harry round so they were face to face.

"Not everyone at school is going to know who I am you know?" Tom pointed out with a serious expression again.

"Why not?"

"The name Tom Riddle isn't going to be mentioned anywhere in any text book with Voldemort," he reasoned. "Particularly if everyone seems to afraid to say his name."

"Hagrid knew," Harry pointed out.

Tom pulled his hands away from Harry's hair, as he crossed his arms. "He recognised me as I am now, a child."

"So Hagrid knew Voldemort from school or something?" Harry asked.

"Most likely," Tom concluded. "It seemed more personal hate, I would have expected more fear otherwise."

"You're not scary," Harry couldn't help but laugh.

Tom grinned, teeth showing.

That didn't mean that Tom wasn't dangerous of course, he was perfectly capable of causing damage or some amount of destruction. Dudley had numerous hospital records to say so. Harry vaguely wondered if Voldemort was the reason behind it all, if Tom was inherently evil or something.

"What are Voldemort's aims?" Tom asked suddenly.

"Huh?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "He's a Dark Lord, and he goes around killing people, but we don't yet know why?"

Harry paused slightly unnerved. "Does it matter? If he kills people then that is wrong?"

Tom just looked pointedly at him.

"People don't just kill for no reason, Harry."

Harry flipped back to the first chapter and scanned the first few pages. He almost wished he hadn't. Tom was waiting patiently, head tilted to the side curiously. He forced himself to read.

"Like his ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, the Dark Lord was against the teachings of muggleborns."

"Muggleborns," Tom said thinking aloud. "It must mean magical children with muggle parents," Harry shrugged as he continued, it was the next statement which was far more a concern, for he knew Tom would agree with it completely.

"The Dark Lord's main intentions however, was the destruction of all muggles."

There was silence, before Tom spoke way too softly.

"Well I did promise you I would teach the Dursley's their lesson."

"No-" Harry began at once.

"We are better than them. We just have more of a head start now to do something about it."

"I thought you were telling me you weren't Voldemort," Harry pointed out bluntly. Tom just shrugged, a small smirk lingering on his face. Harry resisted the urge to throw the book at him again.

"So if I'm not a dæmon," Tom concluded, moving on before Harry could protest further. "I wonder where your real dæmon is?"

Harry paused, he hadn't considered this at all.

"I guess I never needed one," he said after awhile.

"It's your soul, Harry. It's not a question of whether you need it or not," Tom pointed out. "I'm just extra, you should still have a dæmon."

"Maybe Voldemort killed it when his curse backfired?" Harry offered.

Again Tom shook his head, crossing his arms. "Dæmons don't appear until you're around seven years old remember?"

"You've been around longer than that," Harry said thoughtfully. "It possible you had already taken its place."

Tom looked unconvinced.

"Anyway," Harry said stiffly. "You're my dæmon, I wouldn't choose anyone else."

"It's not a matter of what you want," Tom pointed out softly.

Albus Dumbledore currently sat in his office, a disturbed look upon his face. Hagrid was standing in front him looking distraught, as the headmaster mulled the news over. The fact that Lord Voldemort had left an impression on Harry was worrying indeed, particularly as he had managed to get close to the boy.

"We can't leave 'Arry like that," Hagrid sniffed, Ilaria nuzzling at his side to comfort him.

"No," Albus shook his head sadly as Fawkes' head lowered. "We can't."

Chapter three updated June 2017