Just to clarify, Tom has his memories of everything that happened to him, so despite being "diary Tom Riddle", he's still Lord Voldemort. Meaning not only does he have his memories, but he has the intelligence and power of Lord Voldemort, not the sixteen-year-old Tom. Hope that makes sense, and with that out of the way, enjoy the chapter!
Please review as it motivates me to update sooner :)
Chapter Two: An Ending and a Beginning
Harry continued meeting with Tom for the next few months.
Despite befriending him for a while now, Harry was still in awe at the prospect that he had found a friend in Tom Riddle. Unlike him, Tom seemed completely out of his league with his fierce intelligence, outstanding talent in performing magic, and his good looks. Harry didn't understand how Tom was interested in befriending someone like him. What did Harry bring to the table? He wasn't as clever as Nott, as rich as Malfoy, or as funny as Zabini. He was just… Harry.
Even so, Tom continued to meet up with each day and despite his slight puzzlement, Harry was beyond delighted that he had finally found someone he could call a friend.
But as much as Harry liked Tom, he had to admit that the older Slytherin boy was oddly mysterious.
Tom never showed up in the hallways or in the Great Hall. Since he was older than Harry, they didn't share any classes together. It was why Harry spent time with him early in the morning in the kitchen with the house-elves or in the Forbidden Forest. He had thought they would meet in the courtyard where they first met, but Tom had claimed that staying in the Dark Forest was better.
"But what if we get caught?" Harry had asked. "Or worse, what if something attacks us there?"
Tom had smiled reassuringly. "No one will catch us. And you'll be safe as long as you're with me."
Had it been anyone else, Harry wouldn't have felt comfortable dwelling in the Dark Forest. But he trusted Tom, so he had agreed to make that their new meeting place.
Why Tom was so insistent that no one saw them together, Harry didn't know. Was he embarrassed to be seen with Harry? He really hoped that wasn't the case.
Harry still couldn't understand why he had never spotted Tom before. It was no question that Tom was strikingly good-looking with his jet-black hair, fair skin, and warm chocolate-brown eyes that seemed to pin him to the spot whenever he looked at Harry. Harry believed it was a trick of the light or simply his imagination, but sometimes, Tom's eyes would flash red, especially when discussing the Dark Arts. But Harry knew that wasn't possible. Whenever he looked back, Tom's eyes were a normal shade of brown once more.
Tom could easily be as popular as Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff. But what was strange was that Harry could never find him, not in the halls, not in classes, not anywhere. It was always Tom who approached him seemingly out of thin air.
More frustratingly, Tom never answered his questions. Whenever Harry asked what year he was in, what subjects he had; Tom always kept his answers vague and switched topics.
"You'll find out soon enough," was what he always said.
Even if Tom perplexed him, Harry still enjoyed his company and considered him a real friend. In just a few months, Tom had already helped him in so many ways. Not only had he brought Harry out of his gloom by being his first real friend ever, but he was also the reason why Harry's grades suddenly improved. He was surprisingly a great teacher; explaining things in depth without overdoing it, and willing to repeat things without losing his patience. He showed Harry areas he could improve in his essay-writing, how to find main ideas within textbooks, and correct wand movements for spells that were difficult for Harry. So far, Harry had learned Accio, Reparo, Alohomora, and Flippendo.
In most of Harry's classes, he had never done well because he simply never found the energy or motivation to concentrate and put in the effort. In Potions, he was horrendous, getting D's in his essays and evaluations. In Transfiguration, he got P's; in Charms, he could sometimes score an A, if he was lucky. Defence was the only class he excelled in; always managing to get straight O's.
But with Tom's help, Harry's grades had improved. He was surprised to see that he had been receiving E's in his Potions evaluation. In Charms and Transfiguration, he had managed to get a solid O for both classes.
"Well done, Potter," McGonagall had said, handing him back his essay. "I'm glad to see you're finally catching up and not doing your work during the last minute."
Tracey Davis's jaw had fallen open at the O on his essay. "How did you get an Outstanding? You and Nott are the only ones who aced this."
Harry had grinned sheepishly. "Just got lucky, I guess."
But none of it was luck, it was all thanks to Tom. Harry was brimming with so much joy, excitement, and relief that he wondered if he could repay Tom in some sort of way. Tom was older than him, so it was likely he didn't need anything from a second-year student. Maybe Harry could surprise him by purchasing a gift for him. Except he didn't know what Tom liked. Now that Harry thought about it, Tom never spoke much about himself. He was always asking about Harry; about his thoughts on Dumbledore; his thoughts on their Wizarding society; the Ministry of Magic; all that complicated stuff.
Not that it bothered Harry. As long as he had a friend; he could put up with any sort of questions.
. . .
"Show me the correct wand movement again," Tom said.
They were back at the Dark Forest. Harry suppressed a shudder against the frigid air and the thin screen of fog that encircled them. Trees towered above them, their naked branches looking like fingers that were reaching out towards him. He gripped his wand tightly, looking around warily, wondering if one of those large man-eating spiders would emerge at any moment.
Couldn't Tom have chosen an abandoned classroom? Why did they need to practice spells in the Dark Forest?
"Harry," Tom said, his eyes narrowing. "Did you hear what I said?"
"Yeah," Harry muttered. He held his wand tightly and slashed it through the air.
"You're doing it wrong," Tom said. "First of all, loosen your grip. If you clench your wand so tightly, it'll make it harder to wave your wand around and release your spells in the right direction."
Harry loosened his grip. He found out that Tom was right and that his wand movements were already more flexible.
"Now, instead of slashing it sideways, wave your wand upwards."
Concentrating, Harry waved his wand through the air, directing it upwards and mimicking the correct spell movement. He glanced at Tom questioningly and was relieved to see the glint of approval in his eyes.
"Do you remember the incantation?" he asked.
Harry nodded.
"Go for it, then."
Taking a deep breath, Harry steeled himself and performed the correct wand movement. "Diffindo!"
A slash appeared on the trunk of the tree before him as if an invisible knife had sliced through it. Harry stared at the mark for a moment, his jaw agape. He turned to Tom, at a loss for words. Tom gave the faintest of smiles.
"Well done," he said. "You're getting better at this."
Warmth flooded throughout Harry's limbs at his praise. Though a part of him felt unsettled at using such a vicious spell that could cut through bark, he couldn't help the twinge of pride at having managed to perform it flawlessly. Even if Tom was embarrassed to be seen with him by others, he was still a splendid teacher.
"Tom," he said, deciding to get an answer once and for all. "Can I ask you something?"
Tom didn't say anything and merely raised a brow.
"How come you always want us to meet in the Dark Forest? Or any secluded place far away from everyone else?" he asked. "I don't like being around others, either, but I wouldn't go as far as hiding in the Dark Forest. Do you… do you feel embarrassed to be seen with me?"
"I have my own reasons," Tom said simply. "But it's not because of such a foolish assumption like that."
Harry winced. "Then–"
"Have you told anyone about me?"
"No."
"Good. Let's keep it that way."
"But why?" Harry demanded. "It's like you're a ghost or something. You always vanish so quickly, I can never find you anywhere, and you always show up when I least expect it. And I have a feeling no one else in the school knows who you are."
"That's because they don't," Tom said calmly.
"What?" Harry exclaimed, completely taken aback. "What do you mean no one–"
"I promise all your questions will be answered soon; I won't be keeping you in the dark forever," Tom said. "This may confuse you even more but the year is coming to an end and I won't be returning next year."
A wave of horror crashed over Harry, almost knocking him off balance. "It's your final year?"
Tom smiled, that same secret smile of his when he wasn't revealing everything. "You can say that."
"I didn't know you were a seventh-year."
"And I didn't know you could be so nosy."
Harry bristled. "I'm not being nosy. Anyone would be curious if they were in my position."
"Perhaps," Tom said, shrugging nonchalantly. "Anyway, will you keep on chattering? Or shall we move on to another spell?"
. . .
For the next couple of days, Harry's good mood had vanished. After learning that Tom would be graduating, his joy had completely evaporated; being replaced instead with numb sorrow. Next year, he would be all alone again. Sure, his grades were much better and his spellwork was exceptional for his age, but Harry no longer cared about that.
All he had ever wanted was a friend. And the moment he found one; Tom was suddenly going to leave Hogwarts forever.
He caged in a sigh, listening absently to Professor McGonagall's explanation of transfiguring animals into buttons. They had gone over that a few days ago, but seeing how much of the class struggled with it; she had decided to re-explain it again. Tom had already helped him with it, so Harry was one of the few students in class capable of performing it. He, Theodore Nott, and Hermione Granger were the only ones who could do it.
As McGonagall ordered them to spend the next fifteen minutes transfiguring at least three mice into buttons; Harry was the first to finish the exercise.
Beside him, Tracey Davis was struggling badly. Harry noticed that she was gripping her wand too tightly and muttering the incantation incorrectly. At first, nothing happened to the mouse. The second time, the mouse shuddered but nothing changed. Then on the third try, the mouse's tail vanished, prompting it to let out a terrified squeal.
"Do you need help?" Harry asked quietly before he could stop himself.
Tracey glanced at him, taken aback. She glanced at Harry's desks, seeing that all his mice had been turned into buttons,
"Sure," she said, smiling hesitantly. "I guess?"
Harry offered what he hoped was a friendly smile. "I think you should probably put a bit more emphasis on the incantation. Otherwise, the spell will come out weakly and the mouse won't be transfigured fully," he said, nodding to the vanished tail of her mouse.
Tracey nodded once and she loosened her grip on her wand. When she uttered the proper incantation, she put a considerable emphasis on the word and the incantation came out strong and clear. She waved her wand gracefully through the air.
The mouse then quickly turned into a blue button.
Tracey squealed in delight, bouncing on her seat. "Finally! Merlin, that took longer than necessary."
"Good work," Harry said, beaming.
"Thanks," she said, her smile a genuine one now. "I never knew you were this good at Transfiguration."
Harry was about to tell her that he had received help, but then quickly decided against it. If Tracey kept asking questions about who had helped him and Harry accidentally spoke about Tom, Tom might not forgive him. He had already done so much for Harry. The least he could do to repay Tom was to keep his mouth shut.
"Don't worry, I used to be horrible," he said. "I used to get P's, did you know? But then I forced myself to study more and to practice more. And thankfully, it paid off."
"Well, at least you're a good teacher," she said. "I tried asking Nott but he snapped at me to go away and that he didn't have time to teach buffoons," she said, glaring towards where their classmate sat next to Blaise Zabini. Zabini was struggling, while Nott's mice were all turned into buttons, and he was reading rather than helping Zabini. "Arse."
"Wow," Harry said, his brows raising. "Did he really say that?"
"Oh, yeah," she said, nodding quickly. "He's a jerk. Almost as mean as Malfoy."
"That's hard to believe," Harry said, grinning.
Tracey laughed. "Just learn from my mistake and never ask Nott for anything."
Harry smiled. Tracey was surprisingly friendlier than he had expected. She was always hanging around Daphne Greengrass, who was a good friend of Pansy Parkinson, so Harry never bothered approaching her, thinking she would be just as haughty and contemptuous as her friends. But so far, she seemed to be fairly approachable. She didn't have Greengrass's stunning beauty, but her chestnut brown hair that was always tied in a messy bun and big blue eyes made her relatively pretty.
He was also curious about her surname. It certainly sounded like a Muggle name, but Harry was positive she couldn't be a Muggle-born. Otherwise, she wouldn't be accepted into Slytherin at all. He supposed she was half-blood, like him.
"Homework for tonight will be two parchments of the correct methods to transforming animals into inanimate objects," McGonagall said, silencing the groans that followed with a single look. "Dismissed."
"Do you want to work on the essay together?" Tracey asked. "I'll probably fail if I don't use your help."
Harry stared at her in bewilderment for a moment before a smile pulled at his lips. "Yeah, of course. I'd love to."
. . .
He spent the remainder of the day in the library with Tracey. It became apparent, soon enough, that Tracey Davis was perhaps the nicest person in Slytherin. Harry had misjudged her completely. She was absolutely nothing like Parkinson and she was so genuine that he was a little surprised she wasn't in Hufflepuff.
Even if he liked Tom; Harry had to admit that he was harsh and blunt at times. And his negative view of Muggles and Muggle-borns unsettled him sometimes.
But Tracey was different and it was nice to have someone like her around. She was friendly and warm-hearted and never failed to crack him up with her wit. They already got scolded twice by the librarian for their laughter, but that only amused them even further. Harry had to admit that Tracey was a quick learner. She'd struggled with Transfiguration theory in the beginning but after Harry went over the material with her, she had started to understand the basics. He guessed that in a week or so, she would excel in the class.
"You're a lifesaver, Harry," Tracey sighed, stretching her arms over her head. "Transfiguration's my worst class, so I'm glad I have you to help me. Especially since final exams are a month away."
"You'll do great," Harry assured her. "As long as you keep practising."
"Would it be okay if we studied again together?"
"Of course," Harry said, beaming. "Learning is more fun when you have a study partner."
Tracey smiled, looking slightly relieved. "You're a lot different from what I expected."
Harry blinked, startled. "Oh… really?"
"I don't mean it as a bad thing," she said quickly. "It's just that… in the beginning, I thought you were, I don't know, a little intimidating? You seemed really closed-off and detached, so I thought you wouldn't be friendly if I tried to approach you," she said, pursing her lips. "But Merlin, you're probably the least judgmental person in our House. Even Daphne, as much as I love her, can be a little close-minded sometimes."
"If you don't mind my asking, do you get along with everyone else in Slytherin?" Harry asked, brows furrowing. "I know Nott's rude to you, but I think he's like that with everyone. What about Malfoy?"
"He's an arrogant prat," Tracey said bluntly. "Aside from Parkinson, he was one of the people who gave me a really hard time when I was first sorted into Slytherin."
"Is it because… I mean, are you Muggle-born?"
"I'm barely half-blood," Tracey said. At Harry's puzzled look, she elaborated, "My dad's a Muggle and my mom's a half-blood. I barely have any wizarding blood in me, so most Slytherins refer to me as a Mudblood. Daphne's the only one who didn't care about my blood status, but everyone else preferred to steer clear."
"That's terrible," Harry said quietly. "I'm so sorry, Tracey."
"I'm used to it by now," she said, shrugging. "I don't really care, to be honest. Learning magic is really fun, I love being able to enter both the Wizarding and Muggle world, and Daphne's the best friend I could ever ask for," she said and when she looked at him, her blue eyes gleamed with a fierceness that startled him. "I'm not going to let people like Malfoy and Parkinson make me feel miserable. It's fine if they don't like me and consider me beneath them. I'm not going to waste my seven years at Hogwarts trying to please people who don't respect me."
Harry remained silent for a few moments. Though he admired Tracey tremendously for her inner strength, he couldn't help but feel almost… ashamed. Like him, Tracey had endured ridicule and mistreatment, but she had kept her head high for two years straight. The only reason why Harry was doing so well was because of Tom. Had Tom never approached him and helped him, Harry would have remained in his gloomy state.
Merlin, he was so weak.
"But it's not just Daphne now," Tracey said, snapping him from his thoughts. He looked up to see her smiling at him, her blue eyes bright. "I consider you a friend too, Harry."
He stared at her for a couple of moments; overwhelmed by her words. He looked down, feeling his cheeks grow warm.
"Yeah," he said quietly, "So do I."
. . .
"You seem awfully happy," Tom drawled.
It had been three days since Harry had studied with Tracey at the library. They had continued to study together for the next few days and Harry grew to like her more and more with each passing day. He had grown closer to her and though they didn't sit together at the Slytherin table, Harry still exchanged words with her whenever he could and continued to study together at the library. It was good enough for him. To have another friend who was in Slytherin made everything so much easier to bear. For once, he was feeling hopeful.
Harry grinned at Tom, standing before him in the Dark Forest.
"I think I made a new friend," he said brightly.
Tom rolled his eyes. "I'm already losing interest in this conversation."
"Tom!"
"More importantly, how have your grades been?" Tom asked, ignoring his visible indignation.
Harry huffed. "They've been good. Really good. I've been getting E's and O's in everything so far."
"E's in what?"
"In Potions. It's my worst subject, so I can't bounce it up to an Outstanding."
"Well, you should," Tom said. "You should always aim higher. But now that the year's coming to an end, you should save that for your third year."
"Well, at least I have Tracey to study with now," Harry said, shrugging.
"Who?"
"Tracey Davis, she's the friend I was going to tell you about," Harry said.
Tom's eyes narrowed. His voice took on a dangerous edge. "Davis?"
"Y-yeah," Harry stammered, taking a step back at the calm fury brimming in his eyes. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Tom's eyes flash red, but it was gone as quick as it came.
"She's not Muggle-born, is she?"
"So what if she is?" Harry asked defensively, stubbornly ignoring his unease.
Tom regarded him coldly, his eyes like chips of ice. "Instead of trying to build yourself an image where your Housemates would respect you, you instead decide to befriend someone who's inferior. Quite the foolish move, Harry."
"She's not inferior," Harry snapped. "And she's half-blood, anyway. But even if she was a Muggle-born, I wouldn't see a problem with it."
"Are any of her parents Muggles?"
"Yeah, her dad."
Tom scoffed, a contemptuous look schooling his handsome features. "Why were you hanging out with her?"
"She asked for my help with Transfiguration."
"Ah," Tom said, his lips curling. "So not only is she barely half-blood, but she relies on others to get by, like a prideless parasite."
Rage seized Harry's chest. "Tom, that's–"
"She most likely doesn't even consider you a friend," Tom said, cutting him off. "She approached you in the first place because she needed something from you. Had she already understood Transfiguration, she wouldn't have bothered hanging out with you. After she gets what she wants, she'll most likely leave you."
"That's not true," Harry insisted.
"If she really considers you a friend, why are you still sitting alone at the Slytherin table?" Tom asked, his eyes boring into him.
Harry recoiled as if struck. "How do you even know—"
"The whole school knows you have no one to sit with, Harry," he said bluntly. "What callous person lets their own friend sit alone? Once she aces her exams, she won't be coming to you again. She only needed someone to help her with her grades. It's why she doesn't invite you to sit with her and her other friends. Has she ever approached you for something else besides seeking help? Like, discussing Quidditch perhaps, or asking to hang out?"
Harry swallowed tightly.
"It wasn't a rhetorical question, Harry."
"No," Harry said quietly, looking away. "She didn't."
"Of course not," Tom said. "Because she's most likely the type who only uses others."
"She's not like that with Daphne Greengrass," Harry protested.
"Greengrass comes from a well-respected pureblood family," Tom explained. "For someone like Davis, having someone like that by her side is beneficial."
"I've seen them hang out," Harry argued. "I can tell Tracey considers Daphne to be a real friend."
Tom shrugged. "Even if she does, she doesn't consider you to be a real friend. Just someone to use."
Harry flinched.
"You have a good heart, Harry, and I know you're the type who likes to see the best in others," Tom said, his gaze softening. "But people like Davis are the type you should avoid. The last thing you need is to be betrayed the moment you open up to someone who isn't worthy of your friendship."
"She said she considered me as a friend," he said weakly.
"People lie, Harry."
"But why would she lie about that?"
"To earn your complete trust," Tom said. "For someone of her blood status living in Slytherin; she'll need to do all she can to build an image where she won't be targeted as much. And if it means tolerating you to improve her grades, then so be it."
Harry fell silent. He had honestly considered Tracey to be a true friend, even if she did only ever approach him whenever she needed help studying for an upcoming test. Was Tom right? Would Tracey completely ignore him if her grades improved and she no longer needed his assistance? Now that he stopped to think about it, it seemed plausible. It wasn't as if she invited him anywhere or attempted to strike up a conversation that didn't have to do with her grades.
Merlin, he had been so convinced he had found a companion in her.
"Are you really not coming back next year?" Harry asked quietly, deciding to change the subject.
"I'm afraid not," Tom said.
Harry chewed the inside of his cheek. Though he had been bummed to know that Tom would leave Hogwarts forever; he had been comforted by the fact that at least he could hang out with Tracey. But that no longer seemed like an option. He didn't even sit with her at the Slytherin table or hang out with her in the common room. How stupid could he be, thinking they were friends all of a sudden?
"But that doesn't mean we can't see each other," Tom said.
Harry looked at him. "How?"
"Would you be willing to meet me during the summer?" he asked.
"Meet you? Where?"
"Anywhere. Whether that's Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade," he said, a charming smile tugging at his lips. "I'm even willing to invite you to my place during the summer. You shouldn't have to tolerate the company of those filthy Muggle relatives of yours. Besides, it would give us a good opportunity to continue our lessons and prepare you for your third year."
"Really?" Harry said, hardly daring to believe his ears. "You really mean that?"
"Of course. Only if you're willing."
"I am willing," Harry said, a surge of joy rushing through him. His sorrow over Tracey faded before he even realized it. "Of course, I want to leave the Dursleys!"
A satisfied smile played across Tom's lips. "It's settled, then. You'll be spending the summer with me."
"Will I get to meet your family?"
"I live alone."
"Oh," Harry said, slightly surprised. "Are they… on vacation?"
"I don't have any siblings or relatives," Tom said, never breaking eye contact. "And my parents are dead, too."
Harry's breath hitched. He stared at Tom, completely at a loss for words. He didn't know of any other students in the school who had deceased parents. And Tom didn't have any siblings, just like Harry? What were the odds of that? Even if Harry didn't know much about Tom, he was beginning to realize that they might be more similar than he thought. Both orphaned, both half-bloods, and both Slytherins. It made him want to get to know Tom even more.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I never knew."
"That's because I never told you."
Harry wanted to ask how his parents died, but he suspected that was much too intrusive. Instead, he asked, "am I spending the whole two months with you? Or will I be at your house for a week or so?"
"I'll come to pick you up on your birthday, so you'll spend your summer with me then," Tom said. "There's something else I need to do first, so I'm afraid you'll have to spend the first half of July with those Muggles."
"That's okay," Harry said, his spirits lifting. "I can wait. And leaving the Dursleys to the Wizarding world on my birthday is the best birthday gift anyone can give me."
"Indeed," Tom murmured, seemingly lost in thought. "I'll see you then, all right?"
"Yeah," Harry said, grinning. "I'll be waiting."
. . .
His second year had officially come to an end. Harry had aced through all his exams and was pleased to see that he had passed all his courses with solid grades. He would have been happier to know that Tom would be returning with him next year. He would also be happier if Ginny Weasley still wasn't missing.
Professors and students had searched every inch of the castle. Harry had assumed the monster had vanished because no other students had been petrified any longer. Even so, the petrified students at the Hospital Wing still weren't healed and Ginny was still gone. People whispered in the halls; making up all sorts of speculations and rumours. Some believed she was dead, others believed she had run away to the Dark Forest. Some thought she was only hiding as a prank, but the fact that no one could find her made it clear it was no prank.
Dumbledore had given the announcement that they would continue searching for Ginny and that the Aurors of the Ministry would be involved soon. He told them all to be safe while travelling back home.
Harry stared at Arthur and Molly Weasley who had arrived at the school upon the notice that their daughter was missing. They followed Dumbledore to his office; Arthur looking ashen-faced and Molly sobbing quietly in a handkerchief. Ron, Fred, George, and Percy followed after them, all equally downcast.
Without thinking, Harry moved forwards. "Ron!"
Ron halted and glanced over his shoulder. When he saw that it was Harry, he blinked with evident surprise but waited until Harry caught up.
"I'm… I'm so sorry about everything," Harry stammered. "I can't imagine what you and your family are going through right now. Um, I know we're not exactly close, but… well, I mean, if you need anything, I'm always here," he said, smiling hesitantly. "I still owe you and your family a lot. Your mother was the one who helped me get past the brick wall, Fred and George helped me with my luggage, and I still didn't forget the time we had in the carriage. I really hope you find Ginny."
He expected Ron to nod curtly and make an excuse to leave, as he always did. Instead, he smiled slowly, his gaze softening.
"Yeah," he said. "I still haven't forgotten how we shared that compartment. And how you humiliated Malfoy."
Harry grinned. "And how Scabbers bit Crabbe."
"Merlin, I still crack up over that," Ron said, chuckling. "Anyway, thanks for the kind words. I don't know where Ginny is, but I know she's alive. She's a fighter and she's tougher than she looks," he said, exhaling heavily through his nostrils. "I hope it's a monster like everyone says. Because by God, if it was a person, I would track them to the ends of hell and make them pay. The sick arse."
Harry shuddered. "A person who's responsible for the disappearance of a child belongs in Azkaban."
"Hell, more likely," Ron muttered before offering another smile. "It was great talking to you. I'll see you next year, yeah?"
Harry nodded, beaming. "Yeah. See you."
As he watched Ron turn to catch up with his family, Harry's heart felt lighter than it had in a while. He may have been unsure of his so-called friendship with Tracey, but that didn't mean it was the end of the world. There was so much to look forward to. For the first time, he wouldn't spend the summer with the Dursleys. Instead, he would be staying with Tom in his home. Ron also hadn't been hostile, so Harry assumed he was still willing to be friendly with him. His grades were also much better and he lost count of how many spells he'd learned.
It really seemed as if everything was looking for the better.
And a lot of it was thanks to Tom.
Harry couldn't wait to see him again.
Unpopular opinion, but Ron deserves better in the fandom. Boy gets bashed so much and for what? Anyway, please review! Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!
