~To Kill You With A Kiss~

Chapter 15

...

"What's wrong, Alphard?" Harry pulled the gawky Slytherin boy into the front hall of the castle, away from Professor Dippet's curious glance.

"My office." Tom spoke softly behind them, shaking the rain out of his dark curls. "We can talk in there without being disturbed."

Alphard nodded briefly, and the three of them headed rapidly to Tom's study.

The room was warm and cheerful, and they pulled their chairs up to the flames that crackled merrily in the fireplace. The rain was still tapping a slow mesmerizing rhythm against the windows, but Harry felt the warmth from the fire dispel the moisture from his rain-soaked robes and his hair.

Harry looked curiously at Alphard Black, the quiet traveler. Ordinary. He seems so strangely ordinary, for one who roams through time. Just a tall and awkward teenage boy, determined to change fate and rescue those he loves. He felt his heart warm to the Slytherin boy.

"What's happening, Alphard?" Tom's voice was calm, but Harry could sense the fear that pulsed through his mind at the sight of Alphard's sober face.

Voldemort. He has news of Voldemort. Harry couldn't tell if the thought was Tom's or his own.

"I..." Alphard hesitated. His grave dark glance lingered on Tom's face. "Elias, how much does Tom know about... the future?"

Harry reached out for Tom's hand. "I have told him everything I know, Alphard. He knows about Voldemort. And about my parents' deaths, and my scar, and the prophecy about the two of us. And my name is Harry, by the way, not Elias."

Alphard smiled slightly. "Yes, I know. Ginny told me. I'm just used to thinking of you as 'Elias'..." He turned to Tom and asked softly. "And? What happens now that you know, Tom?"

Harry felt Tom's hand brush softly over his cheek. There was a slight tremor in Tom's voice as he answered: "Everything has changed, Alphard. I don't want the future to be what the two of you have already seen. It's not going to be. I will fire the killing curse at myself rather than let that happen. I am Harry's lover, not his enemy. I will never let any harm come to him or to those he cares for."

Alphard nodded. "That's what I thought," he said softly.

"Alphard?" Harry could almost hear his own furious heartbeat. "Did you go back to the future? What... what did you see there?"

Alphard studied the carpet for a minute, avoiding Harry's glance. "Well, I went back and saw Ginny. I was hoping to find the wizarding world of the future very different this time, but I didn't..." His voice trailed off.

"Nothing's changed?" Harry stared at him. "Alphard, how can that be? Tom is with me now; how could he become Voldemort? It's not possible."

Alphard looked up. "I don't know how it's possible, Elias. Harry... But he is there. Voldemort. In the future. And his death eaters as well. Dumbledore is still dead, and so are Sirius and Regulus."

Harry looked at him in horror. Voldemort is still there, in the future? Is his existence inevitable? Is Tom somehow destined to become Voldemort? No, that can't be! There must be a way to prevent this!

"Is he me?" Tom's voice was hoarse. "Can you tell, Alphard? Voldemort - is he me or is he someone else? If I choose not to become Voldemort, how can he still exist?"

Alphard shook his head slowly. "I don't know, Tom. But I do know that names are imbued with magic. Perhaps something happened at that moment in the future when you magically changed your name from "Tom Riddle" to "Voldemort". I don't know; not many wizards have ever chosen to change their names. Our names are what we are; they are our very essence. Names are immensely powerful - that's why we utter the names of objects in ancient tongues when we recite spells, because the archaic names are magically bound to the objects themselves. And that's why a magical letter from Hogwarts will always find the recipient, no matter where he or she may be. Once the name is magically inscribed on the letter, the message is drawn to the person who possesses that name. Ginny even told me about a map that exists in your time, Harry, an enchanted map of Hogwarts that recognizes everyone within the castle by name and traces their movements through the halls and passages of the school."

"The Marauders' Map." Harry nodded. "Ginny knows about that, does she? Yes, that's how it works; the map knows everyone by their true names. Not even polyjuice potion or the transformation of an animagus can fool the map; it tells your real name no matter what."

Alphard looked thoughtfully at Tom. "I wonder how and when you changed your name, Tom."

Tom shook his head and whispered: "I don't know, Alphard. How can I know? It hasn't happened yet. I have played with that dreadful name, yes, assumed it half in jest, had my admirers call me by that name, written it in my diary. But to change my name completely, so that I become an entirely new being - that must have taken a powerful magical spell." He flushed. "I have read enough of dark magic that I think I know precisely which spell would be needed. Unfortunately, it's not the sort of spell that could ever be undone. I understand you have traveled back and forth through time, Alphard. Do you have any idea when my final transformation will happen?"

Alphard considered for a moment. "I don't know exactly when it happened, Tom. But I have seen glimpses of the future, and I know that your followers will begin to use the name "Voldemort" more and more often in... in the decades that will follow this moment in time. But the actual instant of magical transformation is difficult to pinpoint. Perhaps around the time when Regulus became a death eater? That would have been around 1977, I suppose. Maybe that was when the Dark Lord came into being; perhaps that was the moment when Tom Riddle died and Voldemort was born. I think there is only one way to find out."

"What's that?" Tom leaned forward, his face deathly pale.

Alphard fingered the delicate golden chain around his neck. "If you travel to the future with me, Tom, we can see what happens. If you arrive at Hogwarts in Harry's time, will you still be Tom Riddle? And if you are still Tom, will Voldemort exist separately from you? Will you be two distinct beings, or one? If you are two separate beings, perhaps he can be destroyed while you still live."

Tom nodded gravely. "I see. Have you ever met your future self in Harry's time, Alphard?"

"No." Alphard shook his head and smiled slightly. "Fifty years into the future, I'm already dead, Tom. And in all my travels, I have never once encountered... myself. I never even thought to go and look for Alphard Black during my wandering in time. I heard Sirius talk about me once, though, when I was eavesdropping on a conversation he had with Harry's father. He spoke of me with fondness and seemed to regret my recent death."

Harry got up abruptly. "I suppose the Marauders' Map will know whether you and Voldemort are separate, Tom; it will recognize you for who you are." He reached out for Tom. "Let's travel together, all three of us."

Alphard nodded silently. The three of them walked wordlessly together out onto the darkened Hogwarts grounds. The rain was still drizzling from the night-black sky. Alphard stepped closer to Tom and Harry and wound the long golden chain around the three of them. "Ready?" he whispered. "Here we go, then..."

...

"Lilacs," Tom muttered against Harry's cheek as they landed on the Hogwarts grounds of a different age an instant later. "It smells like spring here."

Dusk was falling now, and the familiar landscape was shrouded in a soft amethyst light that deepened to resplendent shades of gold and copper and fiery red at the horizon. They looked up at the ancient grey castle that towered before them, its stern lines softened by the gentle evening shades.

"Hogwarts." Tom pressed Harry's hand. "It's always the same, even if we are not. It's the only home I've ever known. I showed you around the castle in my time, Harry. Will you show me the Hogwarts you know?"

Harry laced his fingers through Tom's. You. Here at Hogwarts with me, in my own time. Somehow, the very absurdity of Tom's presence in this time made it even sweeter."Shall we? Let's go and find the Marauders' Map. I left it in my dormitory in Gryffindor Tower. Coming, Alphard?"

Alphard's face colored slightly. "Perhaps a little later. There is a certain spot by the lake where Ginny often waits for me; I want to stop there first to see if she is there. If I find her, she can let me into Gryffindor Tower later."

Tom and Harry watched Alphard as he hurried toward the distant sheen of the darkening lake. "How odd it must be," said Tom softly, "to fall in love across time, like Alphard has."

Harry glanced up at him as they walked towards the castle. "And like us, Tom..."

"True." Tom squeezed his hand gently. "But unlike me Alphard doesn't even exist in this time, does he? Right now, there is a gravestone somewhere, bearing the name "Alphard Black", marking the final resting place of a wizard who died years ago. But a part of me still exists out there at this moment, even if his name is no longer Tom Riddle."

They pushed the heavy oak doors open and entered the castle. Only a moment later did Harry recall that there were protective spells and enchantments in place that were suppose to keep Voldemort out of the school. Apparently, the school's own magic doesn't recognize you as Voldemort, Tom.

Harry held his breath as they walked by a few wandering students in the ancient torchlit halls, but no one stopped to ask who Tom was; they merely glanced curiously at the two of them as they walked past. But as they stopped at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, the stillness of the spring evening was suddenly rent by a harrowing scream.

"It's him! Oh, Godric's beard, it's him! And he's got Harry Potter! Help! For Merlin's sake - someone help!" The portrait of the Fat Lady stared at Tom, an expression of absolute terror on her face. "Sir Cadogan! Sir Nicholas! Violet! Filch! The Dark Lord's got Potter!" Her voice rose in another hysterical high-pitched wail.

The next moment, shuffling feet were heard hurrying along the corridor, and Filch rounded the corner, breathless and triumphant. "What a racket! Someone's going to pay for this! What's going on here?"

"Argus!" The wide-eyed Fat Lady trembled violently in her frame. "The Dark Lord himself! Right heeeere..."

Argus Filch spun around and turned his hawk-like glance to the two boys who waited by the portrait. "The Dark Lord-?" He froze as his gaze fell on Tom. "By Salazar's ghost, what is this? It can't be..."

"Good evening, Argus," said Tom softly. "We meet again, after all these years."

Harry watched in quiet fascination as Filch's knees buckled under him and he sank to the floor. The caretaker's face was whiter than snow. His mouth kept opening and closing, but no sound came out.

"Ah, I see that you do remember me, Filch." Tom turned to Harry. "Now, the password, my love? Oh, please, Lady Gryffindor, there is no need for that..." He waved his wand at the screaming portrait and muted its piercing shrieks.

"Quid agis?" said Harry firmly. The portrait, giving him a silent look of incomprehension, swung aside and revealed the entrance to the tower.

"Shall we, Tom?"

"Just a moment, my love." Tom flicked his wand at the cowering figure on the floor. "Obliviate!" He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then pointed his wand at the portrait and repeated the spell under his breath. "Let's go, before they come to their senses again."

As the portrait hole closed behind them, Harry heard Filch mutter "Was that a...student? Up to mischief?" And the portrait of the Fat Lady said hesitantly: "I'm not sure, Argus. Maybe it was Peeves..."

"Poor Argus," Tom mumbled. "I remember him from the past. Old Apollyon Pringle's squib nephew... A very tiresome little boy he was, too, always trying to get others into trouble. Oh, here we are. Nice." Tom looked around the Gryffindor common room with some interest. "So this is where you've spent your time, Harry. I can imagine you here, daydreaming in front of the fire. Ah, these must be your friends."

"Harry!" Hermione disentangled herself from Ron on the sofa and ran over and flung her arms around Harry. Half a dozen other students glanced up with mild interest. "You are back! And you brought... a friend." She regarded Tom with a little smile.

Harry drew his breath deeply. "This is... this is Tom, Hermione."

"A pleasure to meet you," said Tom serenely and raised Hermione's hand gallantly to his lips. "I have heard a great deal about you."

Hermione's eyes twinkled. "Have you? I wish I could say the same for you, Tom. Ron, come over and meet Harry's friend Tom. Ron? Ron! What are you doing?"

Ron was still sitting immovable on the sofa in the corner, glancing at a piece of parchment that had just fallen out of Hermione's pocket, his freckles dark against the sickly pallor of his face.

"Ron?"

"Harry? Hermione?" Ron's voice was a whisper. "I need you to come over here for a minute. There is something you need to see."

"What's wrong, Ron?" Harry looked at him in surprise for a moment; then he recognized the parchment in Ron's hands. "Oh. The Marauders' Map. Listen, Ron, there is something you should know..."

Ron moved surprisingly fast. One moment, he was sitting on the red velvet sofa in the corner, and the next instant he stood between Hermione and Tom, his wand raised, a fierce expression on his freckled face. "Get away from him, Hermione! You too, Harry. He's not who you think he is. Step back - I'll take care of this. Avada ke-"

"Oi!" Tom reached out and plucked the wand rapidly from Ron's hand. "Careful there, little Gryffindor! He's the protective sort, isn't he, Harry? Quick reflexes, too! I must say I like him. That's the sort of friend you need. I assume this must be Ron?"

"Harry? What's going on?" Neville glanced up from his copy of The Quibbler. Luna was lying with her head in his lap, a serene smile on her face.

"Nothing, Neville. Everything's fine." Harry put a hand on Ron's arm. "I know that this must seem strange to you, Ron, but it's all right. Come up to the dormitory for a moment, you and Hermione, and I'll explain. Bring the map with you."

"But Harry, that's... that's him..."

"Not yet, Ron. He's not him yet. Come on. I'll explain."

"My wand-?" Ron accepted the wand Tom handed back to him without any further comment. Harry could see that he was still clutching the wand hard as they walked upstairs to the dormitory.

"What's going on here?" Hermione sat down on Ron's bed and looked curiously at Tom and Harry. "Ron, why were you attacking him?"

Ron sat down next to her, his wand still pointed at Tom's chest. "Look at the map, Hermione," he whispered. "It will tell you who he is."

Hermione reached for the parchment. The next instant, her eyes widened. "Tom... Tom Riddle?"

"Let me see." Harry took the map out of her trembling hands. "Yes! See here, Tom: It recognizes you as Tom Riddle. Not Voldemort..."

"What?" Ron looked completely baffled now. "Hey, I never thought of that. "Tom Riddle" is his old name, isn't it? Wait, does that mean that he's not You-Know-Who?"

"Not if I can help it," said Tom softly. He kissed Harry's forehead gently.

Ron blinked rapidly. "Wait, why are you... What?" He turned to Hermione. "Hermione, did you see what he just did? To Harry? Hermione, what is happening?"

Hermione sighed. "I love you Ron, but you really can be a little dense sometimes."

...

An hour later, Hermione drew a deep breath and said: "So, let's see if I've got this straight: Tom is here, and he loves Harry, but Voldemort still wants to kill him?"

"And my sister is dating Sirus Black's dead uncle..." Ron was slumped against his pillows, his voice hollow.

"Never mind about that, Ron. And Harry is a horcrux, which means that he is connected to both Tom and Voldemort."

"Do you know where Voldemort is right now, Hermione?" It was Tom who spoke.

Hermione nodded, her face grim. "Rumor has it the death eaters are gathering in Malfoy Manor. I wouldn't be surprised if the Dark Lord is there as well. Draco Malfoy is probably telling Voldemort everything he knows about Harry as we speak."

"Draco Malfoy?" Tom's silver eyes glittered. "Abraxas' grandson? What a fortunate coincidence, Hermione. I want a word with him. Right after I deal with the Dark Lord..." He got up. "I'll be right back, Harry. This should only take a moment."

"What?" Harry glared at him. "You think I'm letting you go there alone? To face him? I'm coming with you, Tom."

Tom groaned. "Don't be an idiot, Harry! Voldemort wants to kill you. You stay right here with your friends, my love."

"Like hell I will!" Harry felt his temper rising now. "I thought we were equals. I'm not going to sit here while you face the Dark Lord. I'm the one who can read his mind, remember? I know more about Voldemort than you do. We are in this together Tom, whether you like it or not."

Tom stood for a moment, lost in thought. Finally, he nodded. "All right. I suppose you are right, Harry. But if anything happens to you..."

*It won't.*

Tom closed his eyes. "Don't distract me with Parseltongue, Harry. Save that for the Dark Lord, will you?"