Chapter 3-

The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix was quiet. Everyone was in bed and peacefully sleeping, everyone except Harry Potter.

Harry was laying in his bed tuning out Ron's loud snores trying to work through everything that had happened that morning. Harry had spoken to Voldemort and Voldemort had asked him for a favor, a favor that involved Harry getting a resorting at Hogwarts.

"I don't understand…" Harry starred at Voldemort in gaping confusion, "You want me to ask to be placed in another house?"

"No, Harry, I want you to be resorted. The sorting hat will tell you what house you belong in."

"I'm in Gryffindor! I belong in Gryffindor."

"Do you?"

Voldemort had left after that, he simply wasn't in the mirror any longer. No matter how many times Harry had tried to call him back, even speaking in parseltongue a few times, Voldemort had not returned.

Harry had admitted defeat and went down to lunch spending the rest of his day trying to throw himself into conversations and jokes to forget the conversation he had with Voldemort. But now it was night and Harry was alone in the house awake and he couldn't keep his thoughts from swirling.

Did he belong in Gryffindor? No, the voice in his head answered, you were supposed be in Slytherin. You chose Gryffindor, remember? You chose this life you have made for yourself…

How could Harry be happy in anywhere but Gryffindor? This is ridiculous. This is Voldemort! He wants me to be miserable. He wants me to be unhappy. He probably hopes I'll end up in Slytherin so he can have his filthy death eaters spy on me night and day.

The more Harry thought about it however he more he wanted to know himself. Could he go back to Hogwarts and ask for a resorting? Was this even possible? He had never heard of it, no one has ever mentioned it… Harry knew he had to find out. He had to ask someone, but who?

Voldemort was his first choice, as twisted as that seemed, but Harry didn't know how Voldemort managed to get himself to appear in that mirror. Perhaps he had waited in front of it for days waiting for Harry. Somehow Harry knew that wasn't right, Voldemort knew more about this connection than he did. It was this reason that Harry, since his meeting with Voldemort in the upstairs bathroom, had resorted to only using the loo in the downstairs bathroom now, it had no mirrors in it but just a toilet and small sink. He couldn't even begin to fathom Voldemort seeing him exposed and he had no idea if or when Voldemort would make a reappearance. Harry thought it best to avoid all mirrors until he was fully prepared with answers and questions of his own.

Remus came to mind. Could Harry ask Remus? Remus, the werewolf, who along with Harry's father and godfather had spent all his seven years in Gryffindor. No, Harry thought, I can't ask Remus. Harry didn't want to disappoint his last remaining link to his parents.

Maybe he could ask Professor McGonagall. Harry had not seen the Professor since being at headquarters however and was unsure if he could send her a letter asking her for a visit; that would require a lot of explaining and who is to say the Headmaster wouldn't come along. This wasn't something that Harry wanted to put into writing.

Thinking of Dumbledore, Harry felt a tightening of his chest. Harry didn't know how to feel about Dumbledore anymore. The man he had always trusted in; something like family. However, Harry had no family anymore. Dumbledore had turned his back on Harry last year and left him lost and confused to the point of dangerous.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts of Dumbledore or last year in its entirety Harry had a wild idea. Maybe I can ask Snape… Harry laughed to himself… that'll go over well. Hey Snape, how do I get a resorting? Ten points from Gryffindor Potter!

Who would have all the answers Harry needed and be discrete about it? As if an explosion went off in his head, Harry sat up in his bed, Hermione!

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When morning reached, Harry had a plan. He was going to send Hermione a letter and ask her to borrow her copy of Hogwarts a History. Hoping that Hedwig can make a speedy delivery Harry could have answers by the end of the week. It was about time he read it after all, and with any bit of luck there would be something about the sorting or resorting of students in there.

Harry was sitting at the kitchen table with Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny, when Remus walked in. Harry looked up and caught his eye. Remus looked tired but still smiled ear to ear at Harry. Harry returned a genuine smile back.

Remus sat down next to Harry. "How are you, Harry? Ron? Fred? George? Ginny?"

Everyone nodded, the twins in unison, "Great Reeeemus!" Everyone laughed.

"Harry, might I have a word with you upstairs?"

Harry frowned at him, "Yeah, sure."

Thoughts raced through Harry's head as he followed Remus up the stairs to his and Ron's shared room. Calm down, he doesn't know. No one has any idea about Voldemort or the resorting. When they reached the room Remus sat on Ron's bed and Harry at the chair next to the desk.

"Is everything okay, Remus? Has something happened with Voldemort?"

"No, Harry, no not at all." His expression softened, "I just wanted to ask you if there is anything you need. How are you coping being here?"

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The elation of seeing the last of the Marauders had been short lived. Harry absolutely hated anyone brining up what had happened at the ministry.

"I don't want to talk about Sirius, Remus. I don't want anyone asking me if I'm coping. I just want to forget it all. Please, Remus, please stop asking me. I'm fine. Do I want to be in this house? No. Do I want to be reminded of him at every chance I get? No. Do I want to discuss this with anyone? No." Harry said this all very fast and only after it had all gotten out did he realize how bad it all sounded.

"I know your almost sixteen, Harry, and I know I'm not your godfather…"

"Remus!" Harry interrupted him, "You…"

"No, Harry! I know I cannot replace Sirius, but I care Harry. I really do. Everyone in the Order, Dumbledore, your friends, the Weasleys… we all want you to know that we are here. I know your shutting everyone out. Everyone can see it, Harry. You're not alone. Please tell me you know that."

Harry sighed, "Yes. I know." Deciding to be complacent would probably get him out of this conversation faster, "I just need some space, ya know?"

"Yes. I understand." Remus gave him a sort of sad smile. "I'm going to be leaving for a long mission… for the order and I'm afraid to say I probably won't be back before your birthday or even before you leave for Hogwarts. I will try to write as often as I can though."

Harry felt sadness over take him. Remus was leaving for what was probably a dangerous mission for the Order, who knows if he will return in once piece… or at all. "I'll be okay Remus. Thanks for telling me… be safe, will you?"

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Several weeks had past since Remus left for his secret Order mission and Harry had yet to hear from him. Harry was laying on his bed with Hogwarts a History across his stomach. It had been a complete disappointment. Hermione had sent him her copy within record time and Harry had devoured the book within a few days. However, despite reading and rereading, there was nothing about resorting of any kind in it. A small section dedicated to the founders and how they used magical means to preserve a piece of themselves into the sorting hat, which was impressive, but not the answers he sought so desperately. Despite this mysterious quest coming from Voldemort himself, it had given Harry a mission, a purpose. Trying to figure out how to be resorted was almost an escape. A thirst for knowledge that Harry hadn't had in a long time.

Having admitted defeat, Harry knew he had to try and reach out to the one person that had started this quest to begin with, Lord Voldemort. Harry had yet to make an appearance in front of the mirror of the bathroom. He felt vulnerable. Voldemort knew something he didn't and Harry despite his best efforts, couldn't figure out another way to get the information he so desperately wanted to know, why does Voldemort want me to be resorted? There was only one way to find out.

Harry waited until it was late into the night before creeping into the bathroom across the hall from his shared bedroom. An order meeting had taken place only a few days prior, and Harry knew there wouldn't be another one for some time. Knowing it probably wasn't best, but also knowing that he couldn't be traced by the ministry within Headquarters, Harry had been practicing a strong silencing spell he had found in one of his old school books.

Okay, Harry thought to himself, silencing spell? Check! Door locked? Check! Few candles for light? Check! Where are you? How do I call you?

Harry turned his back to the mirror and leaned against the sink cabinet.

"Where's a death eater when you need one?"

"Why? Would you like me to send you one for company?"

Harry jumped and spun around. It worked! The handsome Dark Lord stood smirking at Harry from the mirror with his arms crossed against his chest, he took appeared to be leaning against something solid behind him that Harry couldn't see.

"I didn't know if this would work…"

"I thought we had gone over this last time, you need a mirror…"

"Yes! But then you left, and I wasn't done talking to you! You come here send me on some mad mission about resorting and then don't even tell me how I'm supposed to do that! I don't even know why I care. I shouldn't care…"

"You care because your intrigued. You care because despite all your magical education, it has failed you."

"I want to know about this connection. I want to know how this works."

"Why? Didn't you tell me multiple times last time we had a little chat that you wanted to be left alone? For me to go away and leave you alone?"

"Yes, I do! Your right! Goodbye!" Harry spun around so that his back was to the mirror but he could hear a sinister chuckle behind him.

"So dramatic, being young and clueless."

"I'm not clueless," Harry sneered, arms crossed tightly across his chest. He knew that Voldemort wasn't really there so turning his back on Voldemort couldn't end in fatality, "Or dramatic."

"Your boring me Harry. I thought you sought me out? You know I have many things to do. I'm not a child on summer break from school awaiting a new term. In fact, you've made me late for a meeting. I'm here dealing with your theatrics while my friends wait patiently for my arrival just beyond this room. Shall I go to my meeting then and leave you to brood in your sorrows again?"

"You don't have friends, Voldemort. You have servants that you treat like scum and they crawl at your feet!" Harry turned to face him. "I WANT ANSWERS! Why have you reached out to me? You want to kill me still I assume? So why the talks? Why not just send someone to come off me right here! I'll even make it easy for you, I'll come to you!"

Harry was panting. Did he really just tell Lord Voldemort to kill him. Did he want to die? Was he that much of a coward? Mind wrapped in confusion, Harry turned back around. His face was betraying him tears in his eyes begging to fall. He was done with this life of constant confusion. He was always running to or from something, and Harry had had enough.

"Are you finished?"

Harry didn't respond. He pulled his hands up to burry his face in them, back still turned to Voldemort he nodded.

"Let's get something straightened out Harry. I want you to come to no harm. While this may have been my intention in the past, it is not so after recent developments have been made. And before you decide to interrupt me again, let me assure you Harry, that had I wanted to continue to spend my time plotting your demise, why would I be speaking to you so calmly? I certainly don't let my Death Eaters talk to me that way, I certainly wouldn't allow anyone else to. But you Harry, you are special to me. We are connected and have more in common than you think. Now is not the time to discuss this, however. I asked you to ask your loving Headmaster for a re-sorting. Why? Because I know that you do not belong in Gryffindor. I am sure that should it sort you again, you will be in the correct house… in my house… you are after all a parselmouth I hear. I want to make you happy, Harry. I want to show you that I care. Can you understand that? Can you trust me enough to respect that I just want you to be happy?"

Harry turned around to stare at him. For the first time all summer, he did believe someone when they told him they wanted him to be happy. How or why it had to be Lord Voldemort, Harry didn't know, but he didn't care. Harry had made up his mind. His green eyes met the ruby red ones on the Dark Lords face, Harry was determined, "How do I get a resorting?"