The staircase was narrow, its steps twisted around a thin pillar that seemed to go on and on, winding up higher and higher. The stone wasn't nearly as warn as the other passage ways in the castle and Harry was under no misunderstanding what purpose this tower had once served.
Numerous doorways were set in steady increments, identifying each floor in the otherwise empty staircase. Each doorway had a rusty grate and a torch bracket set above it, illuminating the steep staircase in a dim light.
Professor McGonagall couldn't be seen, she was a few paces ahead of Tom, and the only reason Harry knew she was still up ahead was the delightful spark of Einaris as he pounced from step to step, climbing up to the next floor.
Tom was much less eager to follow the dæmon up the tower, each of his own footsteps were deliberately slow and Tom had on more than one occasion gripped his own wand tightly with a hurried glance back at Harry.
It felt like an age since they'd been in the Ministry, despite being barely over a week ago, but Tom had been on edge ever since. Almost indiscriminate in his paranoia and relentless in ensuring that no one could take away their relative freedom.
"We're okay now," Harry had tried to reassure him, but Tom was having none of it.
"Hogwarts will never be completely safe," Tom had insisted. "Scrimgeour changed his mind once, he can do it again and the same applies to Dumbledore. Plus don't forget Riddle already got in once."
Harry hadn't said anything to this, mostly because they had been interrupted with the Fat Lady's portrait swinging open which was the sole reason they were following Professor McGonagall through the castle now.
Up ahead, Einaris had stopped abruptly, his tail twitching as he waited for Harry and Tom to emerge around the pillar of the staircase. A rusty grate covered a very large heavy door which in turn had a long iron bolt across across it and a VII carved into the wood.
Harry glanced up the dim staircase which continued to wind higher up the tower. The roof must must be just above them.
Professor McGonagall flicked her wand and the iron bolt scrapped across the wall, etching into the stone groove as the grate sunk and disappeared into the floor.
The door swung open with a loud creak.
Harry's attention was momentarily pulled completely away from Einaris as his cold skin was met with a rush of hot air.
Tom's shoulder's visibly relaxed as the grip on his wand slackened. His mouth even slipped out into a slight smile as he gave Professor McGonagall a single nod of approval.
Harry stepped across the threshold into what was clearly a newly decorated room in Gryffindor colours. A squashy looking sofa was set in against the curved wall and a large bed stretched across the far end. It even had space for a large desk which had an assortment of the year's textbooks placed upon it and a couple of chairs tucked under it. It looked far more comfortable than the rest of the decrepit tower.
Now, the heavy lock made sense.
Harry crossed to one of the thin gaps in the stone wall and peered out. It was dark outside, but the small lights down below gave enough indication to show that they were on the West side of the castle with the transfiguration courtyard down below. They must have been nearly as high up as the Gryffindor common room.
"Your belongings have just been moved across," Professor McGonagall said as she joined them and gestured to the range of items spread throughout the room.
In addition to Harry's trunk a small brown package sat upon the bed next to a small pile of robes. The Daily Prophet was folded in half on the desk and Harry only caught a glimpse of his bandaged form and the title 'Potter Demented' emblazed across the headline.
Harry took in a deep breath so that Einaris hissed, his back arching despite McGonagall remaining still with her lips pursed together.
"What's in the package?" Harry asked.
"Your personnel belongings which were taken from you after you were initially sectioned in St Mungo's," Professor McGonagall said.
Tom spun about at this, his brow furrowing.
"Why have they taken so long to give them back? We've been here all summer."
"Your belongings have only just been approved for release," Professor McGonagall said. "I believe it was the assumption that you would both return there."
Tom visibly flinched at this, but Harry was already walking over to the large bed, his absent heart swirling in an impossible darkness.
The package was held together by loose string which Harry immediately pulled apart.
Inside was a neat pile of his old clothes and more importantly his invisibility cloak. Harry ran his withered hands over the heavy fabric. He'd thought he'd lost it when Riddle had taken Tom. Just like his wand.
Tucked inside its folds was a small envelope.
Harry had an odd lump in his throat as he broke the wax seal, he shook the envelope and a small carved stone fell into his withered palm. The replica Harry had left in the chamber beside Tom's petrified form months ago.
McGonagall retrieved another envelope from her robe pocket. Unlike the last letter, this one was thick and yellow.
"Your Hogwarts letter."
Harry took it, he hadn't realised how much his hands were shaking as he slipped the heavy parchment out. There was an additional piece of parchment enclosed which he unfolded with a puzzled frown.
"Hogsmeade?" Harry asked.
"You'll need Dumbledore's permission," Tom said as he he took the letter.
"Great," Harry muttered, but Tom wasn't listening, he was already shuffling through the pieces of parchment. He was clearly looking for something.
"I thought extracurricular classes were compulsory in third year?" Tom asked, his head tilting slightly as he read Harry's letter. "There's no options in here."
"Professor Dumbledore has made an exception, given that you both missed a large proportion of the last school year, he does not want to place any additional burden on you, particularly noting that your additional lessons with Professor's Snape and Lupin will continue."
Tom actually chewed his tongue at this, his expression turning thunderous in a single moment. But Professor McGonagall was unconcerned as Einaris merely flicked his tail back and forth.
"For now, you will both remain here until Professor Snape is content that you have adapted to the influx of dæmons."
Harry glanced in the direction of the grounds, the black mass where his heart should have been coiled inside of him as he took a harrowed breath.
Professor McGonagall raised her own wand as Einaris twisted around her ankles as she moved back in the direction of the narrow staircase.
"I'm going to lock you in; Professor Snape should be with you shortly."
"Wait, professor-" Harry started suddenly, tearing his dead eye to away from the grounds to focus back on Einaris. "When will I get a wand?"
McGonagall turned and she didn't look totally surprised as she surveyed Harry.
"That is up to the Headmaster to decide," McGonagall said. "For now, you'll be allowed to borrow one in lessons when required."
Thick disappointment coursed through Harry and he couldn't help but look dejectedly at Tom. But Tom wasn't even looking in Harry's direction, his expression was set into something unreadable, and it was apparent he hadn't even been listening.
"Right," Harry said quietly.
The door shut behind Professor McGonagall but Harry could still see Einaris lingering just outside before he began to slink down the narrow staircase.
Tom strode across the room. He pulled out his wand and tapped it against the heavy iron door handle.
"You want to do extra classes?" Harry asked.
"Mmm," Tom muttered as he gave the door a futile tug. "It's only a couple of years till we start OWLs and you need more than the standard classes to get into any decent sixth year classes."
Harry couldn't help but stare slightly at Tom at this. Two years felt like a whole lifetime away, let alone any time after that.
"If we catch up, Professor McGonagall might let us sit in some classes, see if you manage okay," Tom continued as he gave his wand another flick.
"I guess," Harry said quietly.
Tom spun around at this, his hard expression softening at Harry's expression.
"You might like Ancient Runes," Tom encouraged.
Harry turned the small stone over in his palm, his fingers brushing over the stone's rough carving.
"No, not runes," he said quietly.
And there was nothing that would change his mind on that.
They stood apart, if only for a moment, before Tom crossed the room. Harry's dead eye roamed over Tom's dark abyss but it revealed nothing new as Tom pulled Harry's withered hand into his own and led him over to the edge of the bed.
It was softer than Harry had expected, its fabric not as worn from the many years of students accommodating the Gryffindor tower. In fact this whole room had far more comforts than his last years accommodation with the mirror of Erised. This certainly gave the impression of being more permanent.
"It isn't over yet, Harry," Tom reaffirmed quietly.
When Harry didn't reply, Tom traced his hand gently over Harry's withered palm. The bandage was half undone, the decayed flesh flaking around the broken skin.
Nothing had changed, not really. Harry's life had been in suspension for nearly two years now, and it would remain so indefinitely. That was until he could find his soul, only then was a real future possible.
"What about Lyra?" Harry asked, his own despair casting out to pull Tom into its depths. "Can you stop me harming her yet?"
Tom definitely shifted at this, his fingers trembling as he exhaled a tempting breath. But Tom kept his head down and eyes averted as he tugged the bandage tighter.
"I don't know, Harry."
The sun had long since set and only candle light filled the dim room. Harry was stretched out on the bed, his shoulder's resting against Tom's legs as Tom weaved his finger's through the undamaged patches of Harry's hair. Harry had both of his eyes shut as he breathed slowly and deliberately as the thought of fresh souls consumed him.
It wouldn't be long now.
The Hogwarts Express had left London hours ago, and despite not being on it since first year, Harry hadn't been more eager for the train to reach its destination and deliver him the one thing he craved above all else.
Even the thought of seeing Ron, Hermione and Draco again was insignificant to the thought of seeing their souls exposed. Sephronia, Ramiron and Adara had been tempting enough last year when Tom had been gone, now they would be something else entirely.
"Stop it."
Tom's voice was quiet, but there was a hard edge to it.
Harry spun around on the bed, his good eye coming to focus on Tom, as a smile split onto his cracked lips.
"I know you're just as excited as I am," Harry said.
"Excited isn't the word I'd chose," Tom muttered, but he returned the smile all the same. "But it doesn't help me if all you're thinking about is devouring everyone in the castle-"
There was a single sharp knock.
Tom's finger's stiffened, their temporary peace shattered as Harry jerked up, his dead eye failing to locate any nearby dæmons.
"Snape?" Tom asked as he slipped his legs over the side of the bed and pointed his wand at the door.
At Harry's nod, Tom twisted his wand so that there was a distinctive clicking noise.
The door slammed open with a tremendous crash as Snape entered, his robes billowing around him as he advanced fiercely on Tom. Harry reacted instinctively as his breath harrowed. A deep chill spread throughout the room but Snape was unaffected as he jerked his wand at Tom.
"You're not supposed to lock it from the inside," Snape seethed.
Tom shrugged a little too innocently but he offered no explanation which only seemed to infuriate Snape more.
But there was nothing more Snape could do than glare openly at Tom. Instead he flicked his own wand back in the direction of the door which slammed shut, rattling in it's ancient hinges, before turning his fury onto Harry instead.
"You're going to start off dry," Snape hissed. "I'll establish how much of a dose you require afterwards."
Harry couldn't help but stare at this, but Snape's threat was confirmed by his distinctively empty robe pockets as Harry couldn't even see a glimmer of any residue or flake of a dæmon.
Tom seemed down right alarmed at this, as pure terror flashed across their bond, as it was all he could do was curl his finger's tighter around his wand.
"Harry's not going to have a constant supply is he?" Tom asked sharply.
"The potions will be limited to when Potter has to interact with any students," Snape said. "It will ensure that the effects will be more potent and effective when required."
"So I'll still see dæmons from here?" Harry breathed, his mouth twisting into a slight smile. Their position in the tower was already proving to be a decent enough vantage point. There were at least seventeen dæmons in the castle and Harry could see each and every one of them.
"If you bothered to gain any competency at Occulumency then no," Snape snapped. "Which you are still expected to do, Potter."
"But who's decision is that?" Tom asked, his voice barely concealing the panic that Harry could detect. "There's nothing to suggest that there's any adverse affects to Harry consuming the potion regularly."
Snape's eyes flashed at this as he surveyed Tom, but he made no effort to explain the situation as his lips curled slowly into a sneer.
"I'm sure you'll survive."
Tom didn't respond, and he actually turned his eyes downward away from Snape at this as a flutter of despair scratched between Harry and Tom's bond.
But there was something more pressing that stole Harry's attention, as his stomach coiled in anticipation.
"When will the Dementors be here?"
"They're already in position around the castle grounds," Snape said. "They arrived early this afternoon."
Harry stared out in the direction of the castle grounds but they remained oddly quiet with no spark of any sort of life. This time it was Tom who stilled, caught out by Harry's sudden deflation.
"Oh, right."
Instead Harry turned his attention back to the few dæmons scattered about the castle. They had been appearing all day, and each time Harry had been aware of their sudden appearance. The ripple of light and the pure excitement had left the darkness inside of him reeling. Kulang was currently up in Madam Pomfrey's office, and Tana, Professor Fliwick's dormouse hadn't stayed still once, her small form scurrying about what must have been the charms classroom. Though there were still some dæmons that were missing, Harry had yet to see Ilaria out in the grounds, so perhaps the dementors were at the bounds of Harry's vision.
Harry was left staring at Snape, he'd have thought that Laraine would have been down in the dungeon's, but she also wasn't anywhere to be seen.
"How did you learn to separate yourself from your dæmon?" Harry asked.
Snape eyes narrowed as he glared at Harry.
"It is important to have a slow break," Snape said. "If the connection were to splinter during the attempt the witch or wizard would more likely be left dead, along with their dæmon, or-"
"Be left soulless," Harry finished. His dead eye slipped over Snape's absent links to Laraine as he tilted his head. "So how did you actually do it? Why didn't Lyra break apart from me cleanly?"
"Lyra broke apart from you by pulling," Snape explained. "It's a crude method which rarely ends well."
"So what's the non crude method?" Harry asked.
It was clear Snape wasn't going to respond as he flicked his wand, causing two of the desk chairs to scrape across the room and sit facing each other.
"How do Death Eaters do it?"
It was Tom who asked. He was fixing Snape with a very curious look.
"The same way as professional quidditch players," Snape retorted, his expression twisting into a nasty scowl.
Tom's mouth twitched at this, his eyebrow rising slightly.
But the opportunity to quiz Snape further disappeared with a flash of horrible bright white light. Harry flinched backwards as Tom seized his arm, steadying him from the onslaught of discomfort.
The patronus skipped through the air, unrestrained from his bonds as he advanced towards the group.
"Two minutes," Einaris said, his voice scratching into Harry's head. Harry slammed his decayed hand against his right ear but the pain was still there, vibrating into his very core.
Tom raised his wand, but there was nothing he could do to relieve Harry's discomfort. Einaris prowled forwards, his slit like eyes narrowing but he didn't say anything else.
Snape stepped across the room, the candles all but extinguishing as the room plunged into dark. If anything Harry gasped as the dæmons scattered throughout the castle shone all the more brighter. It was only Einaris who shone so terribly, as his light irradiated and plunged into Harry's decayed being.
"Sit," Snape said as he pointed at the two wooden chairs.
But Harry wanted to do anything but. He pulled against Tom's grip, he wanted to rip Einaris apart, devour him without any hesitation. If only there was a way to destroy his protection.
"I can't control Harry, not without the potion," Tom snapped at Snape. "This will accomplish nothing."
Again there was that fear that splintered between them that almost overwhelmed Harry's instincts. Snape however remained unconcerned, but at least he beckoned for Einaris to leave. The dæmon slunk away, causing Harry's chest to loosen as the patronus' influence receded.
"The Wizengamot based their decision to allow you back to school on Potter's apparent control," Snape countered coldly. "Take this as an incentive for Potter to actually put some effort in. Now sit."
Snape tapped his wand against the back of one of the chairs.
Harry did so slowly, but he couldn't calm down, the anticipation was coiling away in his stomach. He wanted to see and Tom would not be able to stop him.
Tom took a sharp intake of breath as he perched on the edge of the chair, facing Harry like they had on the dozens of occasions in Snape's lessons. Tom's eyes were full of a fear that confirmed that he knew it was inevitable, but he raised both of his hands all the same and held his palms upwards.
Harry mirrored Tom as they entwined their fingers together. Tom's hands were cold, even to Harry's touch but the effect was still instantaneous. Harry calmed, his own harrowed breath slowly as he stared into Tom's exhausted eyes.
"Okay?" Tom asked quietly.
Harry nodded mutely but the temptation was still there, lingering always in the background just like Lyra's continuously absence.
"Think of nothing," Snape instructed. "Clear your minds."
Harry sank forwards so their foreheads were together with his ashen scar pressed against Tom. Nothing else mattered, it was the two of them with Lyra's link spilling from Harry's chest. It was an age since Harry had felt a rush of calm descend upon him.
Only their solace was fleeting, just like they knew it would be.
Tom's breath hitched at the sudden onslaught, his hot breath catching Harry momentarily off guard. It was more than Harry could comprehend as the castle grounds lit up in gold.