Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it. "Walking on Sunshine" was written by Kimberoy Rew.

Teenage Hormones and Other Things

The morning of Gryffindor's first Quidditch match dawned brighter than fire. The sky was pale blue and no clouds were seen within the confines of the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall.

"Hi, Draco," purred Lavender Brown, sitting down next to him and wearing a horribly flirty smile.

Draco shrank back, staring at her wide eyed.

"I bet you'll do brilliantly today," she went on, batting her eyelashes.

Draco tried to move further away, only to ram into Harry, who was trying to pursued their Keeper to drink or eat something. He was as white as a sheet for some reason.

"Move," Tom ordered, roughly pushing Brown out of the way. He gave her a withering look and said, "I don't know how you failed to notice, but he's got a girlfriend."

Brown scowled at Tom, opening her mouth to say something rude, but never got to as Ginny showed up, pushing her further down the bench when she chose to sit down next to Tom.

The world must be ending.

"Ideal Quidditch conditions," Ginny proclaimed loudly.

"Yes, no wind to speak of," Tom replied equally loud.

Draco stared at them.

"Oh, guess what I heard," Ginny said as Dean Thomas sat down across from her, followed by the two boys who were Beaters. "That Slytherin Chaser Vaisey took a Bludger to the head in practice yesterday and he's still out cold. Oh, and Nott's gone off sick."

"What?" Harry asked, turning his attention away from the Keeper. "He's ill? What's wrong with him?"

"No idea, but it's great for us," Ginny said brightly, helping her self to some oatmeal. "They're playing Harper instead; he's in my year and he's an idiot."

"Just because he'd an idiot, doesn't mean he can't play," offered one of the Beaters. (Draco really ought to learn their names.) "I'm not the brightest tool in the shed, but I can play Beater pretty well."

"It's sharpest tool, not brightest tool," Tom dryly corrected.

"See," he shrugged, smiling with good nature.

"Well, let's all eat something, then head on out. We've got five minutes," Harry proclaimed, pushing the contents of his plate around and not eating. Everyone else on the team ate (well, except the Keeper). Draco followed with the rest of the team to the locker rooms, changed, and headed out to the pitch to tumultuous roars and boos. Draco took in the view from the other end of the pitch and gazed at the crowds, all either dressed in red and gold or green and silver. There were no hints of the other Houses, as they'd all picked sides as well. And from the overwhelming mass of red and gold, most of the other students had chosen Gryffindor.

It felt brilliant to be on the more popular side for once.

"Do we win?" Harry asked Draco in his ear before they mounted their brooms.

Draco glanced at him and shrugged. "Didn't follow Quidditch and if you remember, Nott's not here. Nor was I. I don't know what happened in the game. I didn't care."

Harry pouted, but headed off to shake hands with the Slytherin team captain. At the sound of the whistle, Draco kicked off, a surge of adrenaline coursing through him.

"Well, there they go, and I think we're all surprised to see the team that Potter's put together this year," said a tall, skinny blond boy who Draco recognized as the nay-sayer Hufflepuff from DMC last year. "Oh, and here comes Slytherin's first attempt on goal. It's Urquhart streaking down the pitch and Sloper saves it. It was thought that McLaggen would get another shot this season at Keeper, as he is arguably the best there is, yet Potter picked Sloper. Can't think why."

There were boos from most of the stadium.

Within a half hour, Gryffindor was leading sixty to zero. Draco had scored two goals, and Ginny the other four. As the Tackless Hufflepuff continued to wonder aloud about the merits of the team, the team kept proving him wrong by being spectacular. It seemed as if the team could do no wrong. Again and again, the team scored, and again and again, Sloper blocked the goal with the almost brilliance of Oliver Wood. Draco was so zeroed in on the game, he failed to even realize the Snitch had been spotted till he became aware of the hollers and cheers of the crowd had changed. Draco threw one last goal before the roar told him that Harry had caught the Snitch. Draco pulled up and stopped, turning to find Harry hurtling towards the ground while holding the Snitch up high. Draco was about to head over to where the rest of the team was gathering when Ginny streaked passed him, heading in the wrong direction.

"Ginny!" Draco shouted as the girl crashed into the commentator's podium with so much force, the whole thing collapsed.

The crowed shrieked and laughed. Draco and Harry hurried over to find the Hufflepuff boy feebly stirring and Ginny blithely saying to an irate Professor McGonagall she forgot to brake while standing in a heap of wood. Draco and Harry both burst into laughter, along with the rest of the team while McGonagall looked torn between laughing along with them and scolding Ginny. Instead, she straightened her hat.

"Draco!"

Draco turned at the sound of Hermione's voice. For a moment he suffered a surreal moment, as Hermione was decked out in Gryffindor colors from the hat on her head, the scarf around her neck, and the color of her jumper.

She looked a lot like Granger.

Draco's heart twisted and burst at the same time.

"Did you swallow a lemon?" Harry asked as Hermione fought to get through the mass of students around them.

"Draco!"

Draco shook his head and pushed his way through his fellow celebrating Housemates to her. She instantly threw her arms around his neck and gave him a knee weakening kiss, chasing all thoughts of Granger from his mind, even when she pulled back and smiled at him, letting him see once again the girl decked out in Gryffindor red and gold.

"Oi! Save that for your Common Room!" someone called out.

"Let's move this party!" someone else shouted.

Hermione blushed, burying her face in Draco's shoulder. Draco wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her with the mob into the castle, feeling as if he was walking on sunshine.

"Isn't there a song about walking on sunshine?" Draco asked as they headed up the stairs.

"Yes, it's a Muggle song," Hermione slowly said.

"I'm walking on sunshine, whoa! I'm walking on sunshine, whoa! And don't I feel good! Or something like that," Harry said, tossing himself between the pair and hooking his arms around their shoulders (or well he tried, but he couldn't exactly easily reach Draco's shoulder so he settled for his waist). "We won!"

Draco and Harry broke away once they reached the Common Room, escaping to their dormitory to shower and change (as they'd missed the changing rooms). Upon rejoining the festivities in the Common Room, Draco found himself swept up in cheers and clapping. Harry got lost somewhere with the Creevey brothers who wanted a blow-by-blow match analysis as well as a large group of girls who seemed to think that laughing at everything Harry said and batting their eyelashes would get Harry's attention. Draco found himself watching this amusing scene ensconced in a window seat with Hermione curled up next to him and Tom brooding on her other side.

"Ah, there, he's escaped," Hermione commented as Harry did in fact break away from a girl with long, curly raven hair, who'd been hanging off his arm for the last twenty minutes. Harry made a beeline for them, collapsing almost on top of Tom and burying his face in his friend's neck. Tom froze, his blue eyes going wide.

"Save me," Harry moaned. "What do they think batting their eyelashes will do? They just look like they've got something stuck in their eyes."

Hermione sighed, pushing herself up to sit properly. "Harry, they bat their eyelashes at you because they find you attractive."

Harry peaked over Tom's shoulder at her, giving her a look like he didn't comprehend what she was saying.

She rolled her eyes. "You're the Chosen One, remember? And you've grown a few inches. You've never been more attractive."

Draco cleared his throat.

"To others," she added, punching him lightly in the arm and giving him a smile he was realizing she only gave to him. She turned back to Harry, who had once more buried his face in the crook of Tom's neck. "You best find someone to take to Slughorn's party and soon, as they're all going to be out for your head."

She cast her brown eyes back towards the group of girls, who were all watching Harry and Tom with looks of displeasure on their faces.

"But, I don't want to take any of them," Harry mumbled into Tom's neck, which made Tom jerk strangely, which knocked Harry off and face first into his lap.

Draco chocked.

Tom leapt to his feet and walked away off with as much grace as possible. The eyes of the girls followed him for a moment before latching back onto Harry, who was now lying on the floor staring at the ceiling with a confused look on his face.

"Did I do something to Tom?"

"No, Harry," Hermione assured. "You're just yourself, which is the problem."

Harry looked even more bemused, but pushed himself up onto his elbows before getting up and heading off to where the drinks were stored, dodging artfully several of his fans.

"Did you see it?"

"See what?"

"The notice hanging in the Great Hall!" Harry exclaimed. "Tom said that he'd talked to the professors about setting up a dueling club and it starts next week. I signed us up."

"Oh?" Draco inquired. "What if I didn't want to join?"

Harry stared at him blankly for a moment.

"I'll go cross your name off."

"Don't bother. I'll join. It'll be nice to join a sanctioned club for once."

"Chess Club was sanctioned."

"Not for what we used it for."

Harry made a noise of protest through his nose, then scampered off when his fan club showed up for breakfast.

Dueling Club (no creative name, alas) was led by Snape and Flitwick, as well as Tom, who was standing up on the platform between the two professors. Flitwick rubbed his hands together, looking around the Great Hall at the gathered students. Unlike the last time the school had a Dueling Club, Draco could already tell this one would actually teach the students how to duel as oppose to resulting in mass chaos— mostly because upon entering they were sorted by year. Last time there were no directions other than to stare at Lockhart.

"Welcome! Welcome!" Flitwick squeaked, making the whole room fall silent. "Some of you might remember a few years ago we tried to form a Dueling Club, but it never really got off the ground. Mr Riddle has suggested we try once again, and I for one am quite excited."

The tiny man bounced.

"We've already sorted you by year, next Professor Snape and I will sort you by skill level. Find a partner within your year."

After the flurry of movement was complete, the hall fell silence once again. Snape and Flitwick stood at opposite ends of the platform and Tom had vanished.

"While some of you might know how to begin a duel, we will remind those of you who already know and teach those who do not," Flitwick explained. "Nothing complicated now, Severus."

Snape bowed, followed by Flitwick. Then both took the stance and began to duel. For the younger kids, they both shouted their spells and the spells they used were all first year spells. Once they were done (Flitwick won), the professors moved through the assembled students as they began to duel. Draco was paired with Neville, as no one as usual wanted to be Neville's partner.

Fools.

"Mr Longbottom!" Flitwick squeaked, appearing out of nowhere as Neville landed a hit with a stinging hex Draco failed to shield. "You are quite the dueler! Good! Good! Keep Mr Malfoy on his toes!"

Neville beamed.

"I told you," Draco bragged, rubbing his hand where the hex had hit.

"Sorry," Neville apologized quickly. "I mean, for hitting you. I should be thanking you for working with me so hard over the years. And last year. You and Harry taught me a lot."

"Taught all us old Chess Club lags," Macmillian offered from next to Draco where he was paired off with another Hufflepuff.

"Hello."

Draco managed not to scream when Tom appeared behind him.

"What are you doing?" Draco hissed.

"Observing," Tom lied.

"Really?"

"I told you I'm building an army."

"Can I join?"

"You don't have a choice."

"You're building an army?" Macmillian asked, looking skeptical. "Why ever would you do that?"

"To fight Voldemort, of course."

Macmillian and his partner shivered, but Neville looked thoughtful.

"Like we were doing last year?" Neville asked. "Good idea."

"Yes."

"He won't come here," Macmillian insisted, the other Hufflepuff nodding.

Tom quirked an eyebrow. "Yes, he will. Dumbledore is here, we are here, the future is here."

Macmillian looked as if he might faint.

"Tom," Draco warned.

"I only will take the strong and brave."

"So only Gryffindors?" another voice drawled.

Blaise Zabini materalized next to Tom, twirling his wand.

"No."

Without further explication, Tom moved off.

"Where did he come from?" Zabini inquired, turning to Draco.

"Glasgow."

Zabini appeared as if he wasn't sure if Draco was telling the truth or lying.

"Mr Zabini, why is Mr Weasley covered in boils?" Snape asked stalking towards them.

"Because I hit him and he doesn't know the counter curse."

Zabini wandered off to help his friend while Snape swooped after Tom, who was darting between other pairs, clearly taking mental notes on who he wanted for his so called army.

"He is serious, isn't he? That Riddle boy," the Hufflepuff girl clarified. "About…Vo-Vo-Voldemort coming here?"

MacMillian swayed on his feet and turned white as a sheet.

"Yes," Draco agreed. "And while we might not know Riddle well just yet, Harry does and Harry agrees with his thinking."

"Harry's here," the girl breathed, her brown eyes going wide as she looked at Neville. "It's honestly amazing he hasn't attacked the school directly before."

"Dumbledore's here," MacMillian quickly said, trying to sound calm. "We should be dueling."

"He won't always be here," Neville said, sounding grave. "We all saw his hand at the start of term feast. His days are numbered."

Macmillian looked furious, but didn't appear to have anything to refute the statement.

"Oh, no," the Hufflepuff girl breathed, her hand covering her mouth. "You're right. I might not be clever, but I know a terminal curse when I see one. My aunt is a Healer and I want to be one too. I studied a lot over the summer, you know her old textbooks. And a blackened limb? Means the curse is terminal and the limb is already dead."

Macmillian shook his head in denial.

"You're clever, Hannah," Neville said to the girl. "Very clever."

She blushed and stared at her feet for a second before looking at Draco. "You think he'll take me? Riddle, I mean. For his army?"

Draco stared at the girl and nodded. "You heard him. Strong and brave."

She smiled.

"You're mental."

"I know."

"Why did I ever agree to this?"

"Because Addy told you to trust me and for some unknown reason you did."

"I hate you both."

"No, you don't. You want him dead as much as we do and know everyone, no matter how old they are, needs to be prepared."

"But to agree to create an elite army of children…"

"Severus—"

"Professor Snape," the older man snapped.

"Professor Snape," Tom corrected, "we both know he will strike here. It's why he's assigned Nott the job of getting rid of Dumbledore."

"Correct."

"He wants this school. It was…his home," Tom allowed. "But it is not his home any longer. He graduated and now we inhabit this school, and our children will attend this school and it will be free from his presence."

"Your children maybe. I plan to have none," Snape grumbled. "Fine. Have you chosen your subgroup?"

"Yes," Tom said, handing over sheet of notebook paper. "These are the people I believe best to defend this school come summer along with the Order."

Snape took the list and stared at it. "They are all different years."

"Yes. Many of them were members of the Muggle Chess Club last year. Several were not, but showed potential and seemed open to the idea of defending the school."

"You are mental," Snape muttered again, pocketing the list. "Completely, utterly mental."

"No, Professor Snape, I am the sane one of the pair of us," Tom breezily said before turning away and exiting the Great Hall. He grinned as he headed back up to the tower.

The next week, the group Tom had chosen was moved over to a corner of the Great Hall and cut off from the rest of the group. There, Snape explained what he was going to teach them and train them to be able to do.

"You sound like Professor Moody," someone whispered.

Snape, having super hearing, heard this and looked at the Ravenclaw who'd spoken.

"He had the right idea. It is an almost impossible task to ask you to defend this school against the Death Eaters let alone…what do you call him Mr Potter?"

Harry turned pink and answered, "Marv, sir."

"Marv. How wonderfully stupid," Snape proclaimed. "But, better than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. So, Marv and his—"

"Death Munchers."

"Death Munchers," Snape sighed, pinching his nose. "Fine. Marv and his Death Munchers."

"Why are you calling them that?" Zabini asked.

"They're stupid names to begin with, but feared, so to take away the fear, we call them silly things," Harry replied.

"Shouldn't they be feared?" the Hufflepuff girl asked. She was standing next to Neville.

"Not feared, no," Snape allowed. "They want you to fear them, want you to fear them to the point they will win easily. Fear will make you weak."

Several people gulped.

Snape regarded the group for a moment before he began to speak again, sounding as if he was teaching a lesson of DADA. The entire group hung on his every word and when it came time to practice the spells Snape had set for them, everyone tried their hardest to cast them without speaking, even the few third and fourth years who were in the group.

"So, how was the club tonight, Severus?"

"Trying."

"Really?"

"I do not know why you agreed to this. It is foolish to think the children will be able to defend the school. They are not Aurors."

"Severus, if you had had the chance to defend the school when you were a pupil, would you have leapt at the chance?"

Severus was quiet, staring at the old man.

"See. You would. You do so now," Dumbledore went on. "How is Mr Nott?"

"Failing all his classes and getting thinner and more desperate by the day. We should step in and stop him."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Not until we can get his aunt to safety. You've not found her yet?"

"No. I am not permitted free reign when I visit the manor," Snape admitted.

"Is he onto you?"

"No. He is too arrogant to believe I could fool him," Snape said. "I've not seen Nott's aunt nor the Nott's House Elf since Ms Nott extracted the Unbreakable Vow from me. Since then, she's been locked away and I fear the House Elf is dead. I believe Bellatrix saw us and tattled."

"Ah. Well, hopefully Ms Nott is still alive."

"Where did Tom Riddle really come from?"

"He's a potion accident," Dumbledore replied.

Severus glared. "He is not."

"Oh, but he is. Cassiopeia Black made something rather foul, let it sit on the shelf for a decade or two, and Atlanta D Black knocked it over and onto a sketchbook Walburga Black had kept as a girl. The drawing it soaked was one of Tom Riddle. The combination of whatever Walbruga did to animate the drawing, Atlanta D Black's magic, and the potion created Tom Riddle."

"So he's forever stuck as a teenager?"

"No. He's alive now. He wasn't until last spring, when Miss Lupin died, she gave him life. I'm not quite sure how, but she removed the horcrux from Harry and used it to create Tom's human body."

Severus felt sick. "So, he's a living horcrux? Wait, Potter was a horcrux?"

"No, Tom's just a boy. The soul bit that was stored within Harry — yes, Harry was a horcrux— belonged to him, so he did not become a horcrux, but assimilated it into his own soul. The act of giving her life for him, along with the horcrux soul bit, gave Tom his body. Does he feel evil to you?"

"No," Severus grumbled.

"They are both just boys now," Dumbledore sighed, swirling the glass of wine in his left hand. "Not that will stop Voldemort from coming after Harry."

Severus nodded.

"Or this school. I believe Tom's right about Voldemort wanting the school rather than the wizarding world at large."

"What would he want with the school?"

"To turn out children who are like minded to himself," Dumbledore replied.