First of all, I want to thank everyone for the amazing amounts of reviews and kudos I received after the last chapter. My petty self was very moved. I never expected so many of you to actually take the time to tell me how much you enjoyed this story. Thank you, it meant a lot to me. I will take the time to reply to each comment individually, but as a whole, thank you. It's restored some of my faith that sometimes I can write a good story. Having second thoughts on that since I've finished the chapter now, but I got a laugh out of it so I at least there's that.

Warnings: Shonen-ai, yaoi, slash, gay. Harry Potter/Tom Riddle

Notes: (X) pov change and or time jump

Chapter, 4

"Harry, we need to get going." Harry could feel someone gently shaking his shoulder. He turned his head; his mother's smiling face coming into view.

"Yeah, the faster we get this over with, the faster we can run," James muttered from the other side of the room. Lily glared at James before looking back down at Harry.

"It will be fine," she said patting Harry on the arm. She stood up from the bed and disappeared into the adjoining bathroom.

"Sure, if you consider getting mentally and verbally abused for an hour and a half fine," James said shaking his head. "This came for you this morning." He threw a large letter at Harry. It landed on the bed with a small thud.

Harry sat up in the bed and picked up the letter. Sirius' name was written across it in large letters. It was heavy, not nearly as heavy as the one he'd sent his godfather, about half that weight. He opened the envelope pulling the two large folded pieces of paper out and scanned the contents.

'Harry,

I will be having a talk with your father, leaving you to fend for yourself at the station! Actually, I'm not surprised James did, but I would have never thought Lily would forget you! At least the Weasleys were nice enough to bring you home, but you should have gotten ahold of me! I would have let them have it the second we stepped foot into your house.'

And, how was I supposed to contact you, Harry wondered. His situation would have been easy to deal with if he had had a way to communicate with someone.

He read on, most of the first page telling Harry how sorry he was that the beginning of his summer had been so lousy and that he would do everything he could to make up for it. He would make sure James and Lily never forgot their son again, or Harry would be spending the rest of his summers at his house. By the time he made it to the second page, he was laughing, probably what his godfather had intended. He was making everything seem so much worse than it was and promising equally extreme punishments in return. Sirius wouldn't do any of this, of course. No, once they actually saw his godfather, Sirius would jokingly guilt trip his parents until both of them apologized to Harry again and the matter would be done with. Sirius would probably never let the issue go entirely; randomly bringing the subject up when he wanted to provoke James for one reason or another, but the results would be the same. Harry would not be forgotten again.

'That guy you saw at the bookstore was just a snob, ignore him. You'll probably never see him again. It's better not to dwell on insignificant people and events that happen in your life. It will drive you crazy.'

If only Sirius knew that, the snob in the bookstore had suddenly become one of the most important aspects of his life. A grin spread across his face remembering a few hours ago. Tom's lips had been so soft. A blush crept across his face as a reenactment played through his mind. He had actually made out with Tom Riddle. The git of a genius had come to his room and demanded his attention. Had demanded his affection. He was surprised he'd actually managed to fall asleep after that. His heart had been pounding so hard and it'd taken all his energy to keep himself from laughing once he'd returned to bed. He'd been sure he'd be wide awake the rest of the day from that excitement.

"What's with that look," James asked grabbing Harry's suitcase from beside his bed. "What did Sirius say?"

"Oh, I was…Um." He set the letter down, his cheeks burning even more. "I wasn't thinking about the letter…Tom said he'd go with us to the Little Whinging."

"Really? When did you speak with Tom again?" His father was smirking.

"T, this morning…while you and mum were asleep." When he refused to say any more, his father gave an approving nod and slapped him hard on the back.

"You're pretty good at sneaking out if you didn't wake me up!" He leaned in close to Harry. "So you two made up then?"

"We weren't fighting," Harry said. "Not really…I thought he was just trying to screw with me like some of the people at school. So after the ceremony, I didn't think I'd ever see him again…"

"Ah to be in love," James laughed. He placed Harry's suitcase back on the floor and gave his son a tight one-armed hug. "No wonder you're not kicking and screaming, because believe me, I thought about it. If I left claw marks in the floor, your mother might actually give up and leave me here." He winked at Harry and tousled his hair. "I'm glad things worked out for you."

"Thanks…me too…"

"Did you make out yet?"

Harry's head jerked up at the question, his eyes widening, his face turning dark red.

"Answers my question," James laughed. He hoisted the suitcase back up, muttering a curse about the inconvenience of Muggles living nearby.

Harry watched him leave before deciding he really needed to get up himself. He climbed off the bed and changed into the Muggle clothes his mother had taken out of his suitcase. He slipped Sirius' letter into his front pocket and then waited for his mother to come out of the bathroom. He couldn't deny how happy he was, even if he did have to face the Dursleys later on that evening, he still had Tom for the whole day. Not even the Dursleys could take that away from him.

Once Lily finished in the bathroom, Harry went in. He'd showered the night before, so he just needed to spruce himself up a bit. He ran a comb through his hair and brushed his teeth. When he was finished, he grabbed all his things and left the bathroom.

"All ready," his mother asked. She was smiling, but Harry could feel the tension coming from her. It was horrible that his mother felt so nervous to visit her family. She'd just won the most prestigious award a healer could get the night before and even with that, he knew his aunt would still look down on her. Probably more in fact for winning the award, because Lily hadn't done it the Muggle way. He didn't really understand why his mother had even arranged the dinner. She had to know it wouldn't end well, it never did when they got together.

"We don't have to do this," Harry said. "We could just go straight to Switzerland."

His mother's smile faltered for a second and she gave a small shake of her head.

"No. Petunia is my sister. We have our differences, but she's still my sister and the only family from my side that I have left. Dudley is your cousin; you deserve to get to know him." The way she said the words sounded like she'd been telling herself these reasons again and again in hopes of convincing herself.

The sad thing was she could try to convince herself all she wanted. Aunt Petunia and her family weren't going to care, nor change their minds. His mother could be elected the prime minister without using any sort of magic at all, and they would still find fault with it. It wasn't right or fair and yet here his mother was, trying to make things civil between them. He was quite sure his mother would never manage this task completely, but he still admired her for trying.

"I do know Dudley, and I don't like him," Harry said, life coming back into his mother's eyes. "He's a bully, and a whale," he said.

"Don't call him that," his mother snapped. A hint of a smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. "At least not in front of Petunia."

They gathered what was left of their things inside the room and left. Once they were in the hall, Harry had the joy of trying to balance his toothbrush, toothpaste, comb, and deodorant with two smaller bags his mother had given him. For a brief second, he wondered how he was supposed to get ahold of Tom. Yes, the teen was staying at the same inn, but Harry had no idea in what room. He also didn't think he could persuade the man at the counter to give him the room number, not that Tom had had any problems getting his. Tom, however, was a master manipulator.

The lobby was empty save for the man at the counter, no, not a man. The man had been replaced with a short woman. She waved at Lily and Harry, smiling brightly at the two of them.

"Thank you for staying at the Black Cat's Inn! We hope to see you again!"

Harry found it ironic that the person who'd checked them in had been nothing, but rude and awful, and a nice woman was seeing them off. He glanced at the large clock hanging over the entrance doors, surprised that it read seven in the morning. His mother had already vanished through the doors and they would no doubt be leaving soon. He walked over to the desk, the woman still beaming at him.

"May I help you," she asked sounding as if she wanted to do her absolute best to help with him anything he might possibly need, regardless if it was to answer a simple question or murder someone.

"Another guest staying here, Tom Riddle, is supposed to be leaving with us," Harry said. "I know he's upstairs, but not his actual room number—" Harry realized how bad that sounded as the words left his mouth. Who didn't know the room number their traveling companion was staying in?

"I am so horribly sorry, but I cannot give you the room number to another guest," she said. She didn't sound sorry, and seemed to realize it, because she tapped her wand against her throat. "It's against policy," she explained, her voice sounding normal now, the cheerfulness gone.

"Could you leave him a note then," Harry asked. "Or go tell him his ride is leaving?"

"Let's see." She pulled out a large leather-bound book and started scanning the pages. "You said, Mr. Riddle?"

"It might be under the name Dumbledore," Harry said. He shifted the items he was holding in his arms trying not to drop them. Why had his father taken his bag before he'd finished getting ready anyway?

"Ah, Mr. Dumbledore," she said frowning. She closed the book and placed it under the counter. "No can do, they have a privacy request in place. That room is not to be disturbed unless under extreme emergency circumstances," she said. "No letters, no packages, no interviews, and no wake-up calls."

Harry stared at her dumbfounded. How was he supposed to tell Tom they were leaving if he couldn't get ahold of him? He couldn't go upstairs and knock on every door until Tom or Dumbledore answered.

"Listen, no hard feelings, right? A lot of our more famous guests request the privacy option. That way the Daily Prophet reporters and people who claim to know them, but really don't can't bother them." Harry hadn't realized that the woman was probably only a few years older than him. She was giving him a look that begged him not to cause a commotion.

"Okay," Harry said the words taking their time to sink in. Had Tom known there was a privacy request for his room and had just forgotten or had he really played Harry along until he'd finally gotten a kiss out of him? Was that what he did? Did he pretend to be taken with someone until he made out with them?

"I swear it's nothing against you. I've had to turn down a lot of people in the last few hours. A couple of reporters, some young girls, this older man," she said sighing. It seemed Dumbledore and Tom were in demand.

"So I can't even leave a message with you to give to him when he checks out?"

"Afraid not." She bit her lip. "Please don't make an issue of this. I really can't afford to get written up again."

"No, it's fine," Harry said quickly. "I'll send him an owl later letting him know where to meet us."

"Well, just so you know, until he leaves that room, an owl can't find him," she said nervously.

"Right." Harry almost told her good luck dealing with Tom when he came downstairs to ask where Harry was. Then he realized there was a good chance he'd been tricked into making out with Tom, that everything had just been some kind of twisted entertainment for him. If he said anything then, the witch, who he was sure probably thought he was lying about knowing Tom, would just have her suspicions confirmed. Harry was just another nuisance now that Tom had snogged him.

He was moving much slower as he headed for the car. His parents were both inside waiting for him. His father got out and opened the trunk. He dropped all the items he'd been holding into the trunk at once.

"You look like someone broke your broom," James said frowning. He lowered his voice. "Did Tom change his mind?"

"Privacy on the room," Harry said not quite remembering everything the witch had said. "No one can bother the room unless it's a dire emergency."

His father tilted his head.

"We could set the inn on fire."

Harry glanced up at his father smiling.

"Mum would kill us."

"If we're caught we could avoid the Dursleys," he added. "Not such a bad trade-off."

"Then mum would divorce you," Harry said.

"Would you divorce me if I burned the inn down to avoid dinner with your sister and her family," James called out.

"I most certainly would," Lily yelled back.

"Ah, I tried," James said giving a halfhearted shrug. "I'm sure he'll send you an owl once he wakes up. You can tell him where to meet us."

"We can't wait a little bit longer? Maybe eat breakfast at the Frog's Pond?" He knew his parents didn't want to pay for another day at the inn, but why were they leaving so early? It would only take them two hours at most to get to Little Whinging. They could afford to wait a little longer, right? Couldn't they give him that much after all the stupid crap they'd put him through the last two days? He was willing to give up the supposed "something fun" if it meant waiting for Tom. Fun would be just being with Tom.

The thought surprised him. Tom had done nothing, but drive him crazy since they'd met. Did snogging someone really make you forget what an arse someone was?

But, he wasn't an arse after we "got together". He frowned folding his arms across his chest and looked at the entrance of The Cat's Tail Inn. There had to be some way he could get Tom's attention or leave him a message.

"Is there anything we can do," Harry asked. Since his father had not answered him when he asked about staying, he guessed that wasn't a possibility, though he couldn't understand why.

"...There is something, but…" His father tilted his head slightly, his eyes dancing. Harry knew that gleam in his father's eyes all too well. It was the same look he got when he and Sirius were together and had decided to prank someone. "We should probably ask your mother if she has any ideas first."

"Yeah." He didn't understand why his father had to be so destructive most of the time. It was almost as if he enjoyed destroying things.

James and Harry walked to the front of the car. James opened the door on his side and poked his head in.

"Any ideas on how to get around a privacy request?"

"Hm?" Lily must have noticed the look James had because her eyes narrowed slightly. "Why?"

"Albus opted for the privacy request. Harry can't send Tom a wakeup call."

"Is Tom going with us," Lily asked. She didn't seem displeased, but Harry could tell she wasn't quite happy about the news either.

"I talked to Tom this morning, he said he'd go with," Harry said. "But he forgot to exclude me from the privacy request so…" He shrugged.

"Harry…" She was giving him a look of pity that Harry didn't want to see. "I think it might be best if we just leave." Her voice had taken a soft tone, the one she used every time she didn't want to hurt Harry in some way.

Even she thinks he was just using me, great. His mother was often right about things.

"Lily—"

"James, just get in the car so we can go."

James looked at Harry who shrugged and climbed into the car. They buckled up, Harry wishing again that they could just use Floo Powder instead of having to spend the next two hours stuck in a car. He could use some of that time to compose a letter to Sirius in his head, but after that, he'd be staring numbly out the window again and alone with his thoughts.

For now, he just wanted to leave Wiltshire and never come back. He was done with this town. If his mum won another healer's award, they had better have the ceremony somewhere else, because he wasn't coming back. In fact, he wasn't going to any more award ceremonies, ever, because Tom might be there and he didn't need the teen giving him looks of superiority and taunting him while he tried to survive another awful night. So Harry had allowed himself to be tricked, so what? He wasn't gullible, he'd known how crazy and foolish he'd been letting Tom talk him into "dating" him. That teen was a monster. He could manipulate anyone.

Only, there was a small chance Tom hadn't done any of this on purpose. Hadn't he told Harry he hadn't slept at all? Maybe he just hadn't woken up yet and had forgotten to tell the person behind the desk that Harry was the exception to his privacy request.

Whatever the reason, he was on the way to the Dursleys with only his father as backup and while the two of them had survived before working together so as not to kill any of his mother's relatives, he still couldn't deny feeling a little depressed. Tom would have been a wonderful asset to have in dealing with the Dursleys and really, Harry had just wanted to be with him.

Well, I at least got to snog him, he thought smirking. How many people could actually claim that? Even if that was Tom's end game for everyone, he was positive the look Tom had given him after they'd finished snogging had been one of surprise and desire. Tom might never admit it to anyone else, but Harry knew that Tom had enjoyed it. He no longer needed to worry about being a good kisser either, because if someone like Tom thought he was good, he would seem like a pro to normal people.

Normal people. That was a good way to put it. Tom was not normal by any means and Harry was the definition of normal. He was in no way special beyond his Quidditch skills and maybe with Defense magic. His Defense teachers often praised him for his above grade work in that subject. Most of his school had normal people in it, even Hermione, who just happened to have a brilliant mind was normal in most other ways.

Did any of those normal people make his heart race as Tom had? He allowed his mind to shift through mental images of the people he shared his day-to-day life with. There were plenty of people, but none of them brought about even the smallest bit of a blush to his face. He tried to think about Cho and even that no longer brought its usual rush of excitement.

For a moment he was worried he would never feel anything for anyone else again, but that was stupid. People recovered from bad relationships all the time and he hadn't even been in an actual relationship. He'd snogged a guy he'd known for less than three hours. He didn't even have the right to be angry about being lead on. No one hooked up in three hours of meeting and could expect anything lasting. The witch at the counter had been right; Harry was indeed on the list of people who pretended to know Tom and did not.

I know Dumbledore well enough, he thought with a laugh. He knew the headmaster much better than he knew his son.

"What's so funny," Lily asked turning to look at Harry. "You're not planning something, are you?" His mother was pale, her eyes pleading with him to behave.

"No," Harry said. As much as he hated his cousin and the Dursleys in general, he wanted things to go well for his mother's sake. He would behave and try to be as pleasant as he could. He wouldn't try to use any magic or pull any pranks, because he could tell that this was very important to his mother and he didn't want to disappoint her. He'd already done that enough.

His heart sank immediately.

Tom had said he'd tutor him.

Maybe Hermione could tutor me, he thought, trying to find a solution fast. Even if he kept on track to be an Auror, his mother wanted him to pass all of his classes. If Tom wasn't going to help him, Hermione would be his best bet. It would probably take some convincing, Hermione knew he tried, usually, but was also aware of his lazy streaks. He would have to swear to her that he would remain focused and do whatever she asked of him and he would, because he didn't want to see his mother give him that look again.

"Sirius replied to my letter, I was just thinking about how to answer it."

"You were laughing in the room too," James said. "Maybe I could read it when you're finished? I could use a laugh."

Lily hit him on the arm, James feigning injury.

"What did he have to say," Lily asked.

"He wants us to get together before I go back to school," Harry said picking the more pleasant parts of the letter to repeat. He didn't want to add to his parents' already strained mental states. He opened his mouth to mention Sirius's comment about Tom and stopped. He needed to forget about Tom. Even if Tom hadn't been toying with him, there was a good chance he would be angry with Harry for leaving without him. He couldn't be sure, but he felt like Tom wouldn't be happy with him. Even he knew he hadn't tried hard enough to get a message to Tom, but the more he'd thought about it, he just couldn't. He didn't want to know if Tom had really used him or not. It was easier to think Tom had overslept and then had gotten mad at Harry for leaving without making any real effort to inform him, rather than find out he'd been used.

Some Gryffindor I am, he thought bitterly. He didn't deserve to be in the school house known for its courage.

"Harry," Lily asked. "What's wrong?"

Harry's eyes flicked up to his mother. He really didn't want to cause her anymore worry.

"Will I get to see Sirius and Remus for my birthday?"

His mother relaxed, a smile crossing her features, her eyes warm.

"We planned to stay in Switzerland until after your birthday, but if you'd rather go home-"

"I would," he said quickly. He wanted to see Sirius, tell him in person everything that had happened since his summer holiday had started, and ask how he should handle situations with people like Tom. Maybe even get Remus' thoughts on the matter. He knew the teen had been an exception, most people were not like that, but if he ever ran into someone like him, again he wanted to be prepared.

"Hey, I know Sirius is great, but don't cut our holiday in Switzerland short over him," James protested. "You might like it more than Sirius."

Harry didn't think that would be the case and just shrugged. He loved his godfather and Remus. They had supported him as long as he could remember, just like his parents and while he was confident his parents could help him with Tom, they had enough to deal with right now.

"What if we just convince Sirius and Remus to meet us in Switzerland on your birthday," James suggested.

"Do you think they would," Harry asked.

"Don't see why not. A bit of Floo Powder and they can join us for the weekend."

"That sounds like a good idea," Lily said.

"Yeah…If he's not busy," Harry said trying to word things just right. "I doubt he's spending his whole summer with me."

"Do a lot of people request those privacy rooms," Harry asked. His parents exchanged looks.

"It just depends on the person. Given how famous Dumbledore is and Tom's following close in his footsteps, I can see why they would," James said. "It's a real pain to have reporters hassling you every time you turn around."

"Why didn't they bother us," Harry asked.

"I talked with the Daily Prophet before I left F.A.I.R.Y.," Lily said. "It's easier. Besides the award I'm not a big deal, so we didn't think it was necessary.

Harry nodded; glad his parents and he weren't famous. It sounded like a real pain to have to deal with reporters and strangers trying to get into your hotel room.

"Will our room have privacy in Switzerland," Harry asked.

"Do we need it," James asked and Harry saw him raise an eyebrow in the rearview mirror. "Something I should know about?"

"No," Harry said grinning at his father. "I solemnly swear I've been nothing, but good."

His father's continuous laughter filled the car at that, Lily shaking her head, but she was smiling. The tension in the car and his parents seemed to have faded and Harry let himself relax.

By the time they arrived in Little Whinging, Harry had composed three letters in his head. One to Sirius, another to Hermione, and finally one to Ron, and a possible fourth one to Draco. There was a small chance Harry could still get in contact with Tom, privacy room or not, but trying it would be risky. If he asked Draco to wait for Tom, he might straight out refuse, or worse. He might do it just for Tom to laugh at Draco, explain what he'd done, and then Harry would have to hear about it the next two years at Hogwarts from every person Draco told. The bad far outstretched the one percent chance of Tom actually wanting to know where Harry was and how to get there.

He gave his head a firm shake. He really needed to move on. He blinked a few times at that. Wasn't Draco a tamer version of Tom? He'd noticed it at F.A.I.R.Y, but he'd gotten so caught up in everything else going on, he'd forgotten. Everyone had certain types of people they were drawn to. Maybe that's why he'd fallen for Tom so easily. Was he attracted to jerks? No, Tom wasn't always a jerk. But, neither was Draco.

Maybe I just like guys, he thought. Arrogant guys. That seemed right. It wasn't jerks he liked, it was confident people. Perhaps, because he lacked so much himself. Draco could be as much of a coward as he was, but he hid it better.

Harry allowed his thoughts to wonder while his father and mother tried to decide what they should do for the day. James eventually had to park the car at a small diner; they could only drive around the same streets so many times without looking suspicious. When it was obvious, his parents weren't going to agree on anything soon, he climbed out of the car and started rummaging through his things in the trunk. He removed the "low quality" writing items, closed the trunk, and got back into the car. His parents had not noticed.

He started his first letter, this one for Sirius. He tried to assure his godfather everything was okay, but he had something he wanted to talk to him about in person. He made sure to let him know it was nothing serious, just something he wanted his and Remus's opinion on. He also asked if it would be possible for Sirius and Remus to meet them in Switzerland for his birthday. He made sure to keep the letter to the point and short. He didn't want all of his letters to Sirius over the summer to be novel-length.

The second letter was to Hermione begging her to consider tutoring him. The one to Ron.

He finished his letters, not surprised to find his parents still bickering over what they should do until they had to meet the Dursleys later. Harry wasn't exactly surprised, there wasn't much to do here. He undid his seatbelt, stretched his legs out and grabbed his letter to Sirius to add more. He had a feeling they were going to be there awhile.

(X)

For the second night in a row, Harry had been forced into dress clothes, only this time, the Muggle version. At least he wasn't in a suit, just nice blue slacks and a dark blue button-up shirt. He was then informed it would be a few hours' drive to the restaurant in question. Thankfully, the Dursleys had taken their own car. Harry didn't think he could survive with all three of the Dursleys sitting in the back of the car with him, nor did he believe the Dursleys would allow anyone in the Potter family to even get near their car.

He was waiting to be seated with the rest of his family, everyone dressed for the occasion, Petunia and his mother making small talk, mostly about the weather. The man in charge of reservations kept shifting uneasily behind his podium.

Even he can tell how much we hate each other, Harry thought. How much he wanted Tom with him, if only to talk too. It was already six p.m., but no owls had approached Harry, not that he hadn't been looking. He spent more time staring up at the sky while trailing behind his parents while they toured a famous garden. Harry had not seen most of it. Harry knew he needed to accept that Tom probably wanted nothing to do with him anymore. His stomach felt sick at just the thought. At least he would be distracted here.

He looked around the restaurant, not that he could see much. The entrance followed a long hall with granite floors that mimicked marble and turned left at the end, which was the actual seating area, so all he could look at was the host and the two bathroom signs at the of the hall.

After what felt like an hour, a waiter in black dress pants, and a black vest over a white shirt beckoned to them. The host let them through. Harry was sure this is what it felt like if you were walking towards certain death. His stomach kept twisting up in knots. He just wanted to leave, but he knew that option was not possible. His mother would never let him near the door.

The actual restaurant was fancier than Harry had expected. His mouth must have opened just a bit, because Aunt Petunia sniffed, her head held high, and whispered to Uncle Vernon "the boy better not embarrass us." The room was large, easily containing fifty tables without any of them being close to one another. The floors were hardwood and the walls a cream color. On the side of each table hanging from the ceiling were individual small glass beads, all of them lighting up, and forming into one large glass sphere. Dead center of the room was a huge fountain, white flowers blooming from the cylinder vase in the middle. Water flowed from the bottom of the vase into the water reservoir beneath it. The waiters and waitresses, all dressed in black uniforms, were walking fast, but with grace from table to table taking orders and making sure everything was going right with their customers.

They were seated at a long table for six, two chairs on each side, and one on both ends. The waiter handed them menus and told them he would return shortly. The seating arrangement was at least manageable. Starting at the end chair on the left and going clockwise was James, then Dudley, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon as far from Harry's dad as possible directly across from James. Then Harry and his mother. Harry knew his uncle would say nothing to him and with Dudley next to his father; he wouldn't be tempted to try anything. With his mother in-between Harry and James, they couldn't conspire, nor would James attempt to bully Dudley. His mother had definitely given this some thought.

Harry opened his menu wondering what would be acceptable for him to order. Nothing looked quite good, at least, not by name or description. Maybe we can go get burgers after this, he thought. Eating pork chops or a burger or steak was one thing, but he almost felt guilty for doing so with the way the menu put it. A suckling pig? Who ate a suckling pig? It sounded like he would be eating a baby pig that hadn't yet been weaned from its mother. He looked away from the menu, his stomach convulsing at the thought.

"Harry," Lily asked alarmed.

"Sorry, still feeling a bit sick from the car ride," he lied.

"Must get that from your father's side. Dudley here has never gotten car sick, have you, Dudley," Vernon asked cheerfully.

And, here starts hell.

"Probably," Harry said getting surprised looks from everyone at the table. It was just easier to agree with his uncle. They were too early into the dinner and hadn't even ordered their food yet. Harry couldn't start a fight that early into the evening. Besides, one look at his mother's family's faces told him he'd shocked them more by agreeing then by fighting back. "I think I'll just order the beef with mousseline potatoes, baby carrots, white asparagus, and truffle." He knew he liked beef and he couldn't get himself to touch the pork right now.

Whispered gasps from those around them made Harry look up from the menu. Had he said something wrong? Was ordering beef the wrong choice somehow? He swore he'd seen at least one other person eating a steak as they walked to their table.

"Truly, we wish to be of service to you, but none of our reservations are for a Potter," an older man dressed in a crisp black suit said. He was standing at the entrance to the sitting room, bowing his head, and repeatedly apologizing.

"There."

Harry froze, this time only for a moment. His body and mind seemed to be getting used to the states of shock he kept entering because he was recovering faster from them.

"Mr. Riddle, please. That is not—"

"Are you saying I don't know who I'm supposed to be dining with," the voice demanded.

"Of course not!" The older man sounded close to tears now and bowed again. "Please, this way." He motioned with his arms in Harry's direction. "YOU!" The older man's voice suddenly turned sharp as he eyed the first waiter he saw. "GET AN EXTRA CHAIR BROUGHT TO THAT TABLE IMMEDIATELY!" He motioned to the table Harry was sitting at.

Tom walked into view then, his eyes falling on Harry. He smirked at him, Harry at a loss. Tom had dressed for the occasion, black dress pants, a black dress shirt, and a long-sleeved dress coat, unbuttoned, but form-fitting and a tan belt to break up the repeated colors. He strode straight to Harry, ignoring the whispers that followed him.

"Please move," the waiter who'd been yelled at said to Lily. Lily did as she was told moving her chair over so the new one could be inserted between her and Harry.

"Thank you," Tom said. He handed the waiter some Muggle money and sat down in the chair. Another waiter thrust a menu in front of him. "Thank you, Claude."

"Always a pleasure," the waiter said. He bowed and backed away quickly.

The Dursleys looked on in some strange mix of shock and horror.

"I take it you've been here before," Harry asked quietly. He had a thousand other questions, but this was what came out first.

"A few times," Tom admitted. "It took forever to find you. It's a good thing I remembered their name." He motioned to the family on the other side of the table, his eyes never leaving Harry.

"You could have asked," Harry said.

"Where's the fun in that," Tom asked. He let out a small chuckle as two waiters and a waitress ran up to the table, all of them holding small plates in each hand. The older man joined them holding one plate that he presented to Tom like a jewel.

"Courtesy of the chef," the man said. "And an apology for second-guessing you," he mumbled. "I do full-heartedly apologize." The servers placed a small plate in front of everyone, each one holding a different pudding about the size of Harry's thumb. All of them looked fancier than Harry even thought possible for a dessert to look. "If you need anything at all—"

"I'm here to enjoy myself," Tom said holding his hand up. "Not to cause you any trouble or expect something superb. I would never put Marius under such stress."

"I didn't mean to suggest-!"

"Don't lie," Tom said smiling. "On your way."

"Of, of course!" The older man bowed again and backed away, the other servers bolting as fast as they could.

"What did you do to these people," Harry asked. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know, but he did. Everyone seemed to be terrified of Tom.

"I harmed no one," Tom said. "They simply know who I am."

You mean even Muggles know about him, Harry thought.

"Sorry if I caused a scene," Tom said to Lily. "I didn't realize Peter would panic at the sight of me. I usually call ahead so they can prepare." He gave her a full teeth smile and she blushed.

"Prepare for what," Uncle Vernon managed to ask.

"I'm a bit of a connoisseur in desserts. The chef likes to be prepared, but a surprise visit never hurts." He winked at Uncle Vernon who actually blushed and had to look away.

This is not happening. What was Tom trying to prove with any of this?

"We haven't ordered yet," James said after an uneasy silence. "Feel free to join us."

"Oh, I don't need to look at the menu. The chef knows what I'll be ordering." He lifted the menu and waved it. "This is just in case I've lost my mind and can't remember what they serve." His voice rose as he spoke.

A waiter nearby rushed over and took the menu from Tom. He apologized and disappeared into the kitchen with it.

"Are you sure you haven't done anything to them," Harry demanded in a whisper.

"Really, I'm a food critic for desserts," Tom said his eyes widening slightly. "You didn't know?"

"You're Tom Riddle," Aunt Petunia gasped.

"I am," Tom said grinning. "Thank you for letting me join your family for dinner."

"The pleasure is ours," Petunia said, one of her hands resting on her chest. "Why ever did you choose to join us?"

"Harry," Tom said and left it at that. He picked up the fork lying next to his plate and took a small bite of what Harry thought had to be the tiniest piece of chocolate cake ever. "Ah Marius shouldn't have been worried."

Harry was grateful Tom hadn't explained and even better, he'd changed the subject. The wizarding community may be all right with same-gender relationships, but Muggles were not nearly as accepting.

"So you…eat puddings for a living," Vernon asked uneasily.

"No, it's a pass time. I'm a researcher," Tom explained. "My studies take me to a lot of different places and when I'm in the area I try out the puddings and write reviews about them for newspapers and magazines."

"You're a researcher," Vernon asked. "You expect me to believe that? At your age?"

"I graduated from school early," Tom said smoothly.

"When he was fourteen," Aunt Petunia said batting her eyelashes at Tom. "I, it's in your profile in the magazines," she said. Her cheeks were pink.

Harry tried taking it all in. Tom was a Muggle dessert critic that even Aunt Petunia knew about? On top of being a researcher who'd found a cure for Wizarding flu, and a way to speed up healing in healing ointment. There had to be a catch somewhere. People like this couldn't really exist. And if they did, they sure as hell didn't interact with normal people like Harry. At least they didn't date the normal people like Harry. So what was this? Why had Tom tracked him down like this? How had he tracked him down? They were hours away from the Dursley home and it wasn't like he'd even mentioned their address.

"How," Harry finally breathed out.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Tom said turning to look at him. Harry felt a chill run down his spine. "You aren't so hard to find."

Harry had to keep his emotions in check, but it wasn't easy. If Tom could find him this easily in the Muggle community, he would never be able to get far in the Wizarding world.

Is…he threatening me?

"G, good…" His fork hit his plate so hard it scrapped against it, a loud noise following. Harry dropped it fast, his face turning bright red, and put his hands in his lap. Everyone around them was whispering, some of them were craning their necks to see Tom from their seats.

"Why don't you suggest what we should order," Aunt Petunia said. She lifted her menu up so Tom could see it.

Tom looked amused, but Harry was sure it was from his reaction and not Petunia's request.

"Marius is a world-renowned chef. Whatever you order, I'm sure it will be delicious." His eyes drifted back to Harry.

Why is my summer going so wrong!?

(TBC)

Enjoy!