"What do you expect me to do Albus?" Fudge paced back and forth. "Do you want Potter to be removed from the school? Have the auror's lock him up?"

He gestured wildly to the group of witches and wizards scattered around his office, their dæmons shimmering beside them.

"Does Potter know?" a gruff voice interrupted, a giant ginger tabby cat sat purring on his lap.

"I believe so, Rufus." Dumbledore nodded. "However, as I stated before. I do not think Lord Voldemort has any recollection of his previous existence."

Fudge lost his composure. "The boy knows? I can hardly allow him to remain unchecked now. If the prophet got hold of this information-"

His large bull dog growled, pacing along side the minister.

"The prophet can be used to our advantage," Dumbledore answered. He looked odd amongst the group, as he was the only one without his dæmon by his side.

"You intend for them to find out?" Fudge seethed. "To tell everyone that You Know Who is back? Are you mad?"

"If we are to separate Harry from his supposed dæmon, you will need public support," Dumbledore explained.

"Now hold just one minute, Dumbledore," Fudge roared. "You never mentioned about removing Potter's dæmon from him?"

"No," another voice interrupted. "I will not authorise the use of a dementor on a child, not under any circumstance"

Dumbledore nodded his head, holding up his hands. "I would not expect you to, Kingsley, I am suggesting another proposal."

"What then, Dumbledore?" Kingsley asked sharply, his lynx sitting proudly by his side. "While Potter and the Dark Lord are connected there is little we can do. Particularly if you say that Tom Riddle recalls nothing. They are only children."

"You are being naive, Kingsley," Rufus interrupted, as his tabby hissed. "We cannot assume Riddle does not remember. We should place guards around the boy at the very least."

"For Potter's protection?" Kingsley questioned, as his Lynx eyed up the tabby.

Rufus snorted.

"A dæmon would never hurt their own, Potter is safe from the Dark Lord. I am thinking about protecting the students. Riddle is deadly."

Fudge was shaking his head in a panic.

"The boy cannot remain at the school, guards would be ineffective. Think about what the press would say?"

"Locking up Riddle would mean containing Potter," Kingsley stated sharply, much to the silence of his colleagues. "That is not acceptable."

Dumbledore coughed lightly, drawing the attention away from their discussion.

"As I was saying, I have another proposal, one which will solve all of your concerns."

Fudge looked irritated. "What? This better be good Dumbledore."

The headmaster only smiled, blue eyes twinkling as he spoke.

"The silver guillotine."

Fudges face froze in an instant, and his bull dog stopped beside him. No one dared move.

Kingsley leaned back, surveying Dumbledore carefully. Rufus too had fallen quiet, eyes hardening as his tabby pressed closer to his chest.

"That instrument is hidden deep in the Department of Mysteries," Kingsley commented quietly "No one should know about it."

Dumbledore just smiled, batting the questioning look aside.

"I'm sorry, sir?" a young auror with shocking bright pink hair asked. "The silver guillotine?"

Their jack rabbit was the only dæmon not to have frozen in fear.

"Who are you?" Fudge's bull dog growled.

"Tonks, sir," the witch saluted.

"She's new to my team," Rufus nodded, before sighing heavily.

"The instrument comprises of two separate metal cages," he explained. "The witch or wizard is placed in one, their dæmon in the other." His large tabby dæmon shifted disturbed. Rufus reached out a hand to stroke her gently.

"An enchanted blade rests in-between the two cages, it is sharp and can cut through the connection between person and dæmon."

"What-?" Tonks breathed horrified, her jack rabbit stilling like the other animals.

"It severs the dæmon. They will no longer belong to the witch or wizard," Dumbledore said. "They will be two separate entities, and in this particular case Tom Riddle will no longer be attached to Harry."

"It is a disgusting contraption," Kingsley stated with a frosty look towards Dumbledore. "And one that should never be used on anyone, let alone a child."

"It should have been destroyed long ago," another auror spoke up. "Use a dementor if you want to destroy a dæmon, at least then the witch or wizard are unlikely to survive. It is far kinder than that contraption."

"Wait?" Tonks gasped, looking around the group in horror. "You mean, the person will live even with their dæmon separated."

Kingsley nodded, a shadow to his eyes.

"No matter how close the victim would be to their dæmon, they would never be the same again. They would be able to touch, but they would never be able to feel that comfort, the completeness that once belonged to them."

"You are perhaps forgetting that this is Lord Voldemort we are talking about?" Dumbledore stated. Fudge flinched as his bull dog barked.

"It is also Harry Potter," another auror snapped, standing up in their fury. The eagle beside them screeched. "He deserves his dæmon, regardless of who they are."

"I don't believe the auror's have jurisdiction over the silver guillotine," Dumbledore commented, his blue eyes shifted to look at the minister.

Fudge looked torn, as Kingsley looked furious. As Fawkes wasn't present his Lynx hissed towards Dumbledore.

"Be quiet all of you," Rufus commanded angrily to his team. "Dumbledore is correct, it is not the time nor the place for your personal opinions."

The group shifted frustrated at the order.

"It would be political suicide," Fudge stressed as he ran his hand through his hair.

"You would be destroying Lord Voldemort once and for all," Dumbledore offered. The aurors fell silent.

"I would be destroying Harry Potter," he replied loudly, waving his hands wildly. "Do you really think the public are going to favour me if I tear the boy away from his dæmon?"

"Why Cornelius, I never once suggested we remove Harry's dæmon."

Everyone in the room stilled.

Kingsley crossed his arms gruffly, not looking impressed.

"Explain."

"I am merely suggesting that we remove the parasite that is Tom Riddle," Dumbledore's eyes were sparkling. "Harry's true dæmon will of course be left unharmed."

There was complete silence.

"Why didn't you mention this before?" Fudge seethed.

"I care about Harry's well-being above all else," Dumbledore said. "I trust you will consider this when you are making your decision about the use of the guillotine."

Kingsley's expression darkened, but he didn't comment.

"You're assuming that Potter has another dæmon," Rufus stated. "However, you have no proof."

Fudge took several deep calming breaths.

"You've put me in a horrible position, Dumbledore," Fudge stated. "Just one wrong decision and this is going to be disastrous."

He paused briefly as he chewed his lip.

"However, if you have one shred of evidence that Potter has a real dæmon. Then I will go along, but only then. Do you understand?"

Dumbledore just smiled. "I understand perfectly, Cornelius."

Harry was elated. Tom had only been practicing magic for a few days, but in that time he had already proved capable of performing quite complicated magic.

"Try this one," Harry said as he opened a charms book he'd selected.

Tom glanced at it briefly, before turning the wand towards a book, high up on the top shelf in the library.

"Accio book," Tom stated, moving the wand fluidly. The book responded instantly and he caught it with ease.

"You're going to have to practice to keep up," Tom teased as he ruffled Harry's hair.

Harry ducked away, glaring at him.

"You can't be that far ahead of me," he said. "I mean, how hard can it be?"

As if to destroy Harry's point, Tom handed over the wand.

"Go on then, turn a matchstick into a needle."

Harry swiped it back, glaring. "That's not fair, transfiguration is harder then charms."

"Better get practicing then," Tom grinned.

It wasn't much later when Harry sat down at the table, feeling disgruntled. He'd managed to turn the match silver, but it was still far off what it was supposed to be.

"You just need to adjust your wand movements," Tom suggested, taking the wand back off him to demonstrate.

Harry watched silently, a thought suddenly striking him.

"We should have our own wands," he suggested. "It seems odd that we keep having to share."

"Perhaps," Tom muttered thoughtfully. "I quite like the one we already have though."

"That's only because it's brothers with Voldemort's," Harry countered bitterly, elbow slumped against the table.

Tom just grinned at him.

"Was I that transparent?"

He moved the wand fluently, the matchstick changing into a perfect needle.

Harry sighed. "Seriously though, we'd be better off with two. The teachers wouldn't know you have one then."

"Well you can hardly use this one right now to be fair," Tom teased, dangling it in front of him. Harry swiped it back, he was going to retort but someone else interrupted them.

"Umm, Tom?"

Harry and Tom both turned around surprised.

Hermione's otter, Ramiron, was sitting on a library table looking at Tom tentatively, which meant Hermione wasn't that far behind.

She appeared from behind a shelf, a number of books clutched in her arms. Harry rolled his eyes, if she was asking Tom it would most likely be homework related.

He was wrong.

"I'm sorry," she seemed to not know what to say, so she blurted it out all at once.

"I looked you up," she rushed as Ramiron shifted around.

Both Harry and Tom froze, heads turning to meet each others.

"You used to be a person," Hermione stated firmly, before either of them could react.

There was no point in denying it as she waited patiently.

Tom relented first, "How do you know that?"

Harry glanced around to see if anyone else was nearby but the library was empty.

"After what the ghosts said," she summed up proudly, gaining confidence and satisfied that they hadn't claimed otherwise. "Everything indicated that they recognised you, so I looked up your name in the school library. You used to be head boy nearly fifty years ago."

"I did?" Tom asked.

Harry tried not to look surprised, considering Tom turned out to be a Dark Lord it was odd to know that he had once been a model student.

"You look exactly like the photographs, come see-" Ramiron rushed.

Harry tried to not panic, as Hermione pulled them towards the trophy room.

It was only a few moments later when Harry found himself staring at an old photograph. It was buried in the back of an old cabinet and certainly looked like Tom all right.

The older Tom was dressed in Slytherin robes amongst a group of other students and their dæmons. Harry immediately spotted Nagini who was positioned next to Tom. She really was beautiful, and looked fiercely intimidating with her glowing eyes. Her body coiled round and Harry genuinely couldn't recall ever seeing a serpent so big.

Hermione was intelligent enough, surely she would make the link between the dæmon and Lord Voldemort.

Tom was completely silent, seemingly engrossed into the photograph.

"You also received an award for special services to the school," Hermione pointed to a plaque at the forefront of the cabinet, it had Tom's name engraved upon it.

"It's amazing," she continued. "You seem to be the only human dæmon to have existed. Well you're not a dæmon, not really anyway, you have your own soul. Although-" she suddenly looked really sad. "Your dæmon is gone now, I'm sorry about that."

Harry could feel his palms sweating, wishing that Hermione would stop talking. Tom only watched her quietly.

"I wonder if other witches or wizards can do it," Hermione pondered.

"Do you always think aloud?" Tom asked.

Hermione blanched at this, her eyes widening as Ramiron retreated. Curling around her own legs as he placed his head low.

"Not always," she replied.

"It's refreshing," Tom answered.

Hermione blushed, her face turning scarlet as Ramiron squeaked again.

Hermione turned back to the photographs, leaning in closer to examine it.

"Nagini," she read. "That was you dæmon's name."

Harry dared not breath, there was nothing he could do as Hermione hesitated.

"Wait-I've heard that name before."

Hermione's eyes shifted upwards to Harry's scar, her confusion transforming as realisation dawned.

Hermione didn't say anything but her face drained of all colour, she took a slow step backwards. Harry had never seen someone look so terrified before.

Tom remained the same, eyes hard, daring her to acknowledge the truth and say it out loud.

"Are you okay Hermione?" he asked softly. Harry could barely breath, this was not what he wanted.

Hermione responded to her instincts, ducking down and scooping Ramiron into her arms as she ran.

Harry swore, darting after her in a blind panic.

He barely got out of the library and down the corridor, when he felt his and Tom's connection strain. He couldn't move any further, not on his own.

Footsteps echoed behind him as his heart pounded, he felt sick.

"Are you ashamed of me, Harry?" Tom's voice was soft, demanding an answer.

"Of course not-" Harry started at once, turning hopelessly to face him.

"Then why do you care if Hermione knows about me?"

Harry clenched his fists together, this was blatantly unfair.

"She might tell someone."

Tom's look only darkened.

"Like the teachers?" he asked. "I'm pretty sure they know already."

"You know that's not what I mean," Harry bit out.

"So, what's the difference?"

Harry fidgeted under Tom's furious gaze. He made to move away in the direction Hermione had disappeared in, but Tom fingers entwined around his wrist.

"Harry?" he pressed, not once looking away.

Harry swallowed awkwardly, he may as well tell Tom the truth.

"She's muggleborn."

Tom's hand tightened slightly.

"So what, you think I'm going to kill her?"

"No," Harry stumbled. "Of course not."

"Voldemort kills muggleborns," Tom's eyes flashed dangerously. "So why wouldn't I?"

"You're not Voldemort, not anymore," was the only response Harry could manage, it was pathetic. He glanced back in the direction Hermione and Ramiron had fled.

This whole conversation was just going wrong. He couldn't think straight, he needed to set things right, make sure Hermione understood.

Tom gave him an exasperated look, before thankfully taking pity on him.

"Hermione is far more intelligent than the majority of the students here," he said. "Regardless of her background, she is capable of magic and has a right to be here."

Caught off guard, Harry blinked.

"That's not what Voldemort would think."

"No," Tom agreed. "I don't care either way for muggleborns. Though I can see why Lord Voldemort, who attended school as a Slytherin would hate them."

Harry didn't follow.

"Why?"

"Salazar Slytherin wanted to purge the school of muggleborns, that's why he left," Tom said. "Slytherin's are pure bloods and fiercely ambitious. To be lenient on muggleborns would be unacceptable."

Harry swallowed awkwardly. He didn't want to admit it, but it was horrible how easily Tom could relate to Voldemort and his actions.

Tom still gripping Harry's wrist, only squeezed it tightly.

"Which brings me back to my original question. Are you ashamed of me?"

"You know I'm not," Harry retorted. He gestured his hand in the direction that Hermione and Ramiron had fled. "Hermione won't understand, you know that-"

"If you ask me, the mudblood isn't worth your time," a voice interrupted.

Harry spun around in an instant, wrist pulling out of Tom's now slack grip. He came across a sight he really didn't want to see.

Draco Malfoy was leaning against a stone pillar, his arms crossed, with Adara on his shoulder. He had a smirk lingering on his face.

Tom shifted so Harry was standing behind him, but he didn't say a word.

"How much did you hear?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice steady and indifferent, despite feeling anything but.

Draco's smirk broadened into a grin, as his eyes deliberately focused on Tom.

"Enough,"

Harry's day was just going from bad to worse. Hermione had been bad enough, let alone Draco Malfoy. Draco however, didn't seem phased, his reaction was completely the opposite.

He moved off the pillar, Adara jumping down his shoulder and onto the floor as he approached them.

"I expected that you may have an idea," he nodded his head low towards Tom, it was a deliberate sign of respect. "But what I didn't expect was for Potter to know as well."

He glanced towards Harry, looking far too smug.

"You promised you'd come down to our common room," Draco continued, not giving them time to speak as he nodded to Tom with a grin. "You'd be more then welcome there."

Harry wanted to refuse, he clenched his fists together annoyed.

"We should go and find Hermione," Harry stated, almost begging Tom to turn down the offer.

Tom didn't say anything, which was far worse as Draco waited patiently.

"You owe me," Tom instructed to Harry at last, leaving no room for negotiation. He held out his hand expectantly.

Harry resigned himself to his fate, as he handed Tom over their wand. He sure hoped Tom knew what he was doing.

Chapter six updated April 2018

For those of you who don't know, the silver guillotine is a device in Pullman's books.