Author's Note: Oh boy, so I originally stopped writing because my sisters came to visit but then after they left I sort of lacked the momentum I needed to continue writing. That, and the thought that I wanted to move this story in a different direction than planned made pushing this out tough.

This does not make this delay okay, so I'm sorry. But thank you to all the people who kept reviewing and marking for updates in spite of my lack of new chapters in months. It kept this story on the forefront of my mind.

CHAPTER FIVE. ANSWERS AND QUESTIONS.

...

What a bloody moron. Every hour or two, that was the only thing Harry could think. Should have known better. Almost every person who did have their head screwed on well, that is - Riddle, Cedric, and Winifred herself warned him the relationship was a bad idea.

And he couldn't have even blamed Winifred because, except for her teasing him on day one, he was the one who actually asked her out, he was the one who kissed her. She said they shouldn't. And somehow he was shocked when he found her with another person.

He couldn't stop thinking about it all, and it showed in his performance on the Pitch. He probably let something glittery and gold zip past his face twice since practice started and each time he just let his eyes follow the direction of the Snitch, apathetic, instead of actually pursuing it. He was distracted, but who could blame him when his breakup was just earlier this evening after dinner. Well, Harry had gone to the Kitchens when everyone else went to the Great Hall. His team noticed his overall mysterious solemn demeanor and it seemed to bring everyone down because everyone was playing in relative silence compared to their usual boisterous shouting. When they took water break, Mervin figured out the source of the moody atmosphere and nudged Harry.

"What's wrong, mate?"

Harry sighed. "Nothing. Just sort of out of it."

"Aren't you dating that Vance girl?" Michael said, wiping his forehead of sweat. "Just spend some time with her after this. That'll cheer ya' up- oh. Wow." Michael must have read his expression. "You two broke up?"

A teammate asked, "Weren't you just with her this morning at Hogsmeade?"

Quinsley poked her head in. "Why'd you break up?" She sounded awfully chipper. Was she happy he just had a break up? Sometimes she really annoyed him.

Harry frowned. "I couldn't really handle the 'open' part of the open relationship I guess. Caught her shagging someone else."

"Tough luck, mate," said another teammate.

"Ha ha, what a slag, she couldn't even keep her robes on and her legs closed for two weeks," he heard Quinsley taunted.

"Wait, no. NO," he said. He turned to glare at her. "Don't you call her that. I knew what was getting myself into." He took a deep breath. "She's still a good person. ALRIGHT?" In retrospect, he wasn't sure if he actually meant any of that, but a part of him still had a soft sport for the Ravenclaw. He kept going back between being resentful for Winifred falling short of being the fantasy girl and upset at himself for taking it so personally. Quinsley was just annoying him at the moment and he felt like lashing out at something- anything- to get rid of this horrible feeling inside.

Under his fiercely annoyed gaze, she faltered, and for the first time, really showing how much smaller she was. Her dark brown eyes seemed to start to moisten and get larger, and as her shame showed, her head dropped so she was staring at the ground. Yet Harry did nothing to stop it, and at the moment almost enjoyed getting a girl to react the way he wanted her to. "I - I - ... Sorry," Quinsley said before immediately going back up in the air.

The rest of the team was silent.

"Key," Michael said, using his deeper captain voice. "I know Quinsley has her faults but cut her some slack. She was trying make you feel better. Apologize. And soon," Michael said before taking another gulp of water and going up.

Harry frowned. The other teammates flew up, seeming to agree.

...

Later when they returned to the common room, Harry pulled Quinsley aside. She looked a bit uncomfortable but came along anyway. They sat along a couch near the fireplace, the fire replacing the effects of the warming charms from earlier. At first they didn't say anything, just watched the fire crackle and light up the warm furnishings in the common room. Most people by then had shuffled out of the room to get ready for bed. Harry wasn't quite ready to say anything yet but Quinsley seemed to be okay with waiting for him. When he calmed, he turned his body to face her, and she readjusted herself to sit cross-legged and face him, her eyes still downcast.

"Look, Quinsley," Harry said, after sighing and leaning on his elbow. "I'm really sorry about snapping at you earlier today." And as he said the words, he started to realize he meant it. He was a right jerk earlier.

She was staring at the empty seat cushion between them. Eventually, she whispered, "I'm sorry about what I said. It was mean to your friend."

Harry shook his head. "Don't be sorry; it wasn't your fault. You have every right to assume the best way of cheering me up is to talk badly about my ex... I just had a lot of pent up energy." And needed to blame the nearest witch, he didn't add.

"So.. so you're not mad? I can be a bit annoying," she said softly.

"Yeah.. yeah I'm not mad."

She changed her position so her knees were up to her face and she wrapped her arms around her legs. Harry thought she seemed rather fidgety. But she had a small smile on her face. "I guess... I guess it's like when I got mad at you for being good at being a Seeker?"

He laughed and gazed at her softly, glad she was taking it lightly now. "Yeah, kinda like that."

She was staring up at him, with her brown eyes slightly wider than normal, and he realized he was staring back. The light of the fireplace generated a lot of moving shadows on her face. The lighting also seemed to make her face look a little red.

"So, yeah, we're good?" Harry said.

She pulled her lips inwards and shut her mouth tightly, as if restraining herself from saying anything more, but she just nodded fervently. He got up, ruffled her hair and said good night.

...

Sunday dinner, when finally felt okay enough to not need to rely on going to the kitchens to get food, he went to the Great Hall. Absorbed in his thoughts, he was so distracted that he bumped into someone that immediately churned his stomach in distaste.

"Watch it!" exclaimed Olive Hornby. Her voice was grating to his ears, and filled with a demanding attitude. A slight sneer dressed her face as she was trying to open the door. Never before had he shared so much in common with Moaning Myrtle.

Harry mumbled polite but insincere apologies bitterly as she swung the Great Hall's doors open, whipping her hair in his face as she did so, and walked in, letting through the casual chatter of dinnertime. His gaze followed the girl that slept with his sort of girlfriend as she walked up the Slytherin table.

He noted mildly that Hornby walked over to sit to the left of Riddle, gushing over the stoic leader as soon as she sat down. Usually a platinum haired boy, probably the Abraxas Malfoy that Draco mentioned was his grandfather sat there. It was bizarre, but then he saw treacle tart sitting for the dessert course and Harry immediately sat with his seventh year friends.

...

Harry approached Dumbledore's office – it was so strange to think of this room as his office – after dinner. There was a Gryffindor first year in there who tried out a bad spell, judging from the small stature and the smell of burnt hair.

When Dumbledore saw Harry, he nodded. "Now, Mr. Patil, I'd like you to go to the hospital wing. Can you do that for me?" The boy nodded excitedly. "I need to work with Mr. Key here on catching him up to his seventh year courses." The first year nodded again and ran off. The door shut behind Harry and then it was just him and Dumbledore. The last time this happened, Harry was stunned and woke up bound. But they had an understanding now, and for a brief moment Harry reminisced about a familiar time when the man in front of him had a white beard.

"Mr. Key, I presume you have bad news?" Harry must have still been sad about the Winifred breakup.

"Oh. No," Harry pulled the book and an de-Transfigured robe from his new bag. "Here. I got a new bag so I'm returning your robe. And I found the book! Ben Solomon had it all along."

Dumbledore nodded. "That would make sense." Harry's former and/or future mentor took the two items. "I'll take a look at the book and update you as soon as I can. I'll let you know by class on Thursday.

...

Harry was for the most part done with his schoolwork, and so didn't need to use the library's copy of the textbooks. He was also done searching for The Red Book. But out of habit and needing some time away from his worried housemates, he went back to the library anyway. While he at first had been annoyed that he couldn't check out mandatory textbooks, he understood the reason. If students could check out schoolbooks no one would ever buy them and there were only so many copies the library had on hand. And over time the past couple weeks he grew to even like going to the library.

Pulling out random books to see what he could learn was actually fun, and the excitement that he got when he flipped through one reminded him of when he had first stepped into Diagon Alley and discovered the wonders of wizardry. Magic was amazing. It was too bad discovering the wizarding world was poisoned by the discovery there was a whole political party after his head.

But when he stepped into the library then, his stomach churned with discomfort. Winifred was in there sitting at the table she had been, the first time (and the last time) he'd seen her here. She looked up, as if expecting him – giving him a hopeful glance – but he looked away. He wasn't ready yet.

He looked around for other options. Apparently Riddle was curious at what Harry would do because he also looked up from his table in another corner.

Was there no peace to be had? He made a move to turn back to his dorm. He didn't need to be here anyway. But he saw Quinsley's brother walking into one of the side rooms and Harry decided to follow. When he walked in and the door had fully shut behind him he was greeted with joyous cries of "Harry!"

"Maybe you'll make it as a 'Puff after all!" said Michael's sister.

Harry took the moment to smile and look around. It was nice. There were four large tables, each with individual reading lamps and usual sources of rolls of parchment paper attached to the walls. It was kind of cozy. Apparently the big side rooms were probably only used and reserved by Hufflepuffs and the smaller rooms were for Ravenclaw study groups. Gryffindors weren't very studious (sans the occasional lone brilliant Lion) and Slytherins were solitary. He looked around and Cedric waved him over, indicating the seat he pulled over to make room.

"Glad you're joining, Harry," and Cedric gave a brilliant smile.

Harry realized he actually didn't have anything to read or work on so he pulled at one of the books Cedric had beside him, a reference guide of runes. Harry decided he could use the knowledge and leafed threw it. It was nice. If the Hufflepuffs had heard the rumor he and Quinsley had broken up, they didn't mention it, opting to just give him the quiet he needed instead of the nosy albeit well-meaning questions and comments by his housemates.

...

Time started passing by rather lazily. On Thursday, Dumbledore gave his apologies. With the war requiring him to do more planning and papers that needed grading he hadn't really had the time. He also had to read the animation papers the seventh year NEWT students had been working on for a while. Harry nodded, understanding. With any luck this would all be over soon and he wouldn't have to deal with this decade any longer.

He found solace in the familiar faces of home, having spent more time with Hagrid and the Thestrals, as well as Myrtle. She would complain about Olive Hornby and he would just listen.

The oddest thing she said, however, was that, "Being dead has been great! In the past days I had you and another boy talk to me without making fun of me. That's more than I ever had when I was alive."

...

The first match of the year, Slytherin vs Gryffindor, was coming up on the second Saturday of October. Right around this time Michael was booking more frequent opportunities to practice, so Harry had been fairly tired.

He was being worked so hard that Harry was actually able to recover from his breakup, and Harry was no longer stinging from the mistake with Winifred. Still, it was not as if he would seek her out. Michael had pointed out that there was only so much time that Harry could reasonably be upset for because Harry only had only known her for about a week before dating and then another week before promptly breaking up. In other words, "You better be completely over it by the Quidditch match. Don't make me put Quinsley up there as seeker instead of you."

Thursday came again, and while Dumbledore passed around everyone's papers, in addition to getting an O grade, Harry saw a note that read: "Please come to my office after dinner but before Quidditch practice."

When Harry arrived he saw the Old Three sitting in Dumbledore's office; he was greeted with a "I'm afraid I have some interesting news for you. "

Harry's eyebrows furrowed but he nodded for him to go on.

"First of all, the friend of yours who managed to read this must have been a very impressive witch. I had to use a reference guide in order to translate on top of my usual comprehension of the German language."

Harry smiled. "That's my Hermione, brightest witch of her generation."

"I would hope to meet this Hermione one day," Slughorn put out there.

But then Dumbledore became far more grave. "The second is that upon reading the ritual described in the book, I realized there was no specific potion in the process."

Harry frowned. "That can't be." His memory flashed to Hermione's frizzy hair over a cauldron.

"Granted, the ritual is triggered by drinking something purifying. But it even says in the instructions that there's no reason to use anything other than purified water. Did she have any animosity against you?"

"No, no. Hermione would never hurt me. We've been through a lot together. I'd have died for her, and she would have done the same."

"Then we should take a look at your memory via Pensieve. Professor Slughorn here can determine what she was trying to brew. Headmaster Dippet can confirm whether or not the runes in your ritual were written correctly," said Dumbledore. "But before that I need to explain your ritual." Dumbledore looked hesitant to continue, which made Harry nervous. It couldn't be good news. "According to the description, it does not explicitly say that your true partner will also be your true love. It is highly suggestive of it. The author comments that there a few little known examples of people who cast this ritual getting married but -"

No. The men paused. Oh, Harry said that aloud. "No that can't be possible. What's the ritual for if not for true love?"

Dippet sighed. "It appears it is more meant to find ones magical match, a yin to your yang. A true partner could mean anything like a business partner or lovers... A twin would find their twin with this potion... It's an interesting ritual, but its popularity is limited because of its limited usefulness"

Suddenly Tom Riddle's face appeared in his mind. Of course. Fucking. Tom. Riddle. The source of all of his problems tended to come back to Voldemort didn't it? Harry assumed being sworn enemies and the whole "marking him as his equal thing" would be enough to trigger this ritual.

He was blessed that the ritual at least sent him to a time when Voldemort was 50 years weaker and lacked a personal vendetta.

But Harry mentally swore at Hermione. How could she have made such a huge mistake as translating the ritual incorrectly? And what was that potion for? Then Harry realized that this was a good thing. It meant he could go back home to 1998 and live out his life knowing he didn't miss out on much. Winifred really wasn't a love opportunity lost.

"I guess this means I should start focusing on returning to the future?"

Dippet frowned, and looked at him with sad eyes. "If that is what you would please. Are you sure you don't want to at least find your true partner?"

"It's fine," Harry said, saying little about what he knew of Riddle, but when he turned his gaze upwards, Dumbledore was wearing a contemplative look. "Will seeing the future through my memory be a problem?"

"At this point it seems as if your presence here has had no bearing on your future. While we tried to keep your exposure at a minimum, that you've been here for weeks and had no sudden change in understanding of the Key family or yourself indicates viewing your memories will be safe."

"I could always Obliviate you.." At the serious expressions the men wore, Harry raised his hands in defense - "Kidding, kidding.."

They stepped into Harry's memory. His memory self was mostly busy with drawing the runes but every once in a while past/future Harry looked up to see what Hermione was doing. Around the third ingredient, Slughorn hmm-ed and hah-ed.

"Well, Horace?" asked Dippet.

After a few more ingredients and a counter-clockwise stir – "Her technique is very good – Definitely an O level student but not the drive and instinct of a Potential Potions Master. You know, I wonder if-"

"Dippet- about the potion?"

"Oh! Oh yes. Harry, my boy, it seems as if your friend was brewing a detox potion. Particularly one for long term mental afflictions like say an Amortentia."

Harry furrowed his brows. "I haven't taken any love potions." He'd seen Ron under a love potion and Harry has never acted like that. "Also I've been told I have very good will power. I've thrown off an Imperius and can withstand Veela allure." Of course that didn't mean Harry was good at holding back from fawning after pretty girls like Cho and Winnie. "What else is it used for?"

"Well if your friend is as smart as you say she is, then it's for a love potion. There are better antidotes for afflictions like General long term confounding."

"Mr. Key," said Dumbledore. "You did mention that your vision suddenly became better when you came here? It's possible that the detox removed the effects of whatever had made your vision significantly worse over time. Do you see better than when you were younger?"

"Not particularly. But it started getting terrible around end of fifth year."

"Any long term relationships?"

"Well, there's the girlfriend I had before I came here," Harry said. And upon thinking about Ginny, he suddenly felt the crushing weight of guilt. If he wasn't here for a true love, then he cheated on Ginny for no reason! (The Hermione in his head shouted, "YOU BROKE UP.")

"And it's not possible that was Amortentia?" asked Dippet.

"Amortentia causes infatuation, not true love," Harry said, remembering it vaguely.

"Well, that's not true..." came the voice of Slughorn.

Harry tilted his head. "You told me that. You told us during a lesson that Amortentia causes powerful infatuation or obsession. No love potion actually creates true love."

Slughorn blinked down at Harry. "That's certainly news to me."

Harry's mind started turning as this was alarming.

"Perhaps this was knowledge that was learned between now and when you had your lesson," Dippet offered. Harry nodded, but it still bothered him.

"What I had with my girlfriend was love," Harry said, though the more he thought it, the more he faltered. He certainly loved Ginny, but at the moment, he wondered if he just loved her like he would love Ron. He never wanted to kiss Ron, for sure.

"Maybe a slow poisoning. If offered at a low enough dosage it may slip past your defenses."

"Shouldn't a small dosage imply it would be easier for me to beat?" Harry wasn't particularly good at his theory but if it's anything like Muggle vaccines, he should be immune to love potions. And a high dosage would cause immediate behavior changes.

The trio of old men all looked perplex.

"That is true," Dippet said after a few minutes.

"Did an enemy perhaps poison you at one point?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry's brows furrowed. He looked through his memories and nothing stuck out. "I mean there were attempts... I mean I haven't had any toxic substances in my body except for..." Oh.

"Except for?" Asked Dippet.

"Well I mean that shouldn't count. I was healed immediately by Phoenix tears..." Harry thought allowed.

"What pray tell did you need Phoenix tears for?"

"Basilisk venom..."

"BASILISK VENOM," one of them exclaimed while the others were truly alarmed.

"I was twelve, if it hadn't killed me by now-"

"TWELVE!"

Good thing he didn't mention the Acromantula. If Harry didn't know better, these men panicked almost as much as the mother hens in his life; he imagined Molly, Minerva, and Pomfrey all acting in a similar manner. Once they all calmed down – Slughorn conjured a chair and started fanning himself – Dumbledore started hypothesizing.

"There's been no known survivors of Basilisk venom. It would be inhumane to test the combination of Basilisk venom and Phoenix tears, but this would be interesting to study. Perhaps we can test a mixture on creatures. Either case, we don't know what the Basilisk venom has done to your body, and even if the Phoenix tears merely neutralized the venom in your body, it may have made you uniquely susceptible to poisons."

"Or," Harry postulated, "My friend was just being careful and eliminating possibility of tampering before the ritual kicked in. I have had a close call with a Love Potion, at least once that I know of." Though that still required Hermione thinking Harry had been poisoned by a love potion even while dating Ginny.

The potion was always part of the plan, even when Hermione first came to him with the project. It was puzzling.

"We will look into this," Dippet said.

"In the meanwhile, it seems time for you to head to Quidditch practice," Dumbledore said approvingly.

"I'm sure we can keep him here a little longer," countered the Head of Slytherin.

...

Over the next few days, Harry was back in the library and hunted down every reference he could about love potions. Nothing in the books even tried to differentiate between symptoms of true love versus potion induced love.

It was driving him mad and every time he tried to rationalize and remember that he didn't act anything like Ron did when he was giving love potion and that he was still in love with Ginny during his hunt for Voldemort's Horcruxes, he remembered that Romilda didn't necessarily put Amortentia in the cauldron cakes. Then he would remember that Hermione was the one who gave him the potion and it became a question of how much he trusted Hermione's instincts. But then he'd think about how he still cared for Ginny's well-being and it just didn't seem like the tom-boyish Ginny would use love potions. Over and over again, he'd think through this in a circle.

At some point he thought he could use Amortentia on himself just to see what the effects were. He'd try a controlled environment with the Bearded Three keeping an eye on him, and if he acted completely out of character, it would rule out love potions.

As he was thinking of how well that would turn out, the portrait opened and Mervin bumbled in and shouted to the living room as a whole, "Let's go on an adventure!"

The house members that were in earshot – that is, everyone – paused in what they were doing before the non-seventh years went back to their homework. He approached the couch where Harry was lying down, and where Pippa and the others were sitting nearby.

"Why now?" Barty asked, chewing on his quill.

"Come on, it's seventh year and we're Gryffindors... and for some reason when I look at Harry, I just feel like I need to be somewhere like on a quest!"

Harry grabbed a nearby couch pillow and smashed it over his own face.

"Ha, well, are we going to trek through unused classrooms?" Michael said before snorting.

"Maybe we can see what's on the inside of the Slytherin dorms."

Mervin leaned in conspiratorially; in a whisper: "Let's go through the Forbidden Forest."

Poppy dropped her quill and then started cursing under her breath when ink stains got all over it. Then she grabbed a nearby book and flung it at Mervin.

"Calm down, woman!"

"ARE YOU MAD?"

"Not at night! I'm sure we can go.. in the morning?" He dodged another incoming book.

"I don't think knocking him out so he won't go into the forest will help if he still has to go to the infirmary either way, Poppy."

The first years in a distant table gathered up their things, probably fearful that she was so furious. Pippa grabbed the badge on her robe, "DO YOU SEE THIS, WEASLEY?" The "HG" lettering shone brightly. "I have a duty to my office!"

"Okay, so you won't be invited -"

"WEASLEY!"

"Sorry, okay... maybe..."

Pippa made a motion to grab at her inkwell.

"OKAY OKAY."

The topic dropped, Poppy went back to fixing her ruined paper. But when Harry sat up to look over at his friends, Mervin was gesturing to the other boys, so it's possible the plan was still on.

...

Later that evening, Harry got up to talk to Slughorn. The whole trial-by-potion idea sounded like a good one.

Slughorn wasn't happy about the idea of testing on a human subject, but Harry beat back, and argued that the only way they could know for sure what the effects of using Amortentia on him would be, was to actually test it on Harry himself. And when Slughorn kept trying to argue, Harry said he didn't feel comfortable returning home to his girlfriend if he didn't know if it was real. The lack of sleep over this was killing him.

So Slughorn agreed, tentatively. And said he'd talk to Dippet and Dumbledore.

On Harry's way back, he bumped into Riddle. This school was too small.

"Patrols will be starting soon, get back to your dorm."

Harry nodded absentmindedly, his personal shields down due to being lost in thought. Apparently, Riddle noticed Harry's defenses were lowered because he quickly attacked Harry with a binding spell.

At this point, Harry was alert, but it was a bit late since he couldn't move or speak. He tried to fight it and somehow will himself to break out of it, but Riddle said, "Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you."

Which of course only made Harry struggle under the spell more. After being dragged into an empty classroom, Riddle locked the door. "I'm going to release you. Do not attack me, I just want to talk," Riddle said forcefully. Somewhere inside Harry, he realized that Riddle didn't seem to be in a murdering type of mood at the moment, but he still didn't believe the bastard. He started planning his escape.

"I know you aren't who you say you are."

Harry stopped fighting, but after a pause, he started thinking really quickly to come up with some story to cover it up. Which part of his identity did he need to lie about this time?

"If you try to Obliviate me, I will know. I left several notes to myself, so don't even try. I won't expose you as long as I get the truth, understood?"

Harry didn't say anything. He couldn't, of course. But apparently Riddle seemed to think it was agreement because he finite'd the spell. Immediately Harry made a grab for his wand, but Riddle disarmed Harry before tying him up with ropes this time.

"CUT IT OUT," Harry said.

Riddle raised his eyebrows. "This is why I have trust issues." He twirled Harry's wand, again fascinated by it. "Who are you?"

"I'm Harrium Key."

"Enough. I am very aware that is a lie. … But perhaps you do go by Harry... What is your family name?"

"Key."

Riddle crossed his arms. "Anyone with half a brain and newspapers will know that the Key family is light haired."

"It's called genetics. I picked up the dark hair from my mother's side."

"And that would be...?"

"None of your business."

"Regardless, still a lie. The official version report of the attack on the Amsel family was sealed soon after you arrived here. That alone is suspicious enough for me to know there's something in your back story that needed to be kept hush, so I used my contacts to get the unofficial version of the report. You know what I found, Harry? No rescue was mentioned. And your accent... The Key family was high society. You neither have a posh accent, nor a Norwegian accent. You clearly come from Southern England, so tell me..." Riddle waved Harry's wand, and Harry was pulled suddenly very close to the Heir of Slytherin, so close that Harry was staring straight at Riddle's neck - damn it, he was two years older than Riddle, why was he so short by comparison? Harry struggled to gain his personal bubble back. Stupid Riddle and his stupid intimidation tactics. "Who are you?"

It must have been all the thinking about Hermione and love potions, because the first thing out of his mouth was, "Dagworth-Granger." Harry's eyes lit up in fear. Dagworth-Granger was the potioneer who'd one day discover that Love Potions can't manufacture real love. Is the real Dagworth-Granger currently a student? Not born yet? This wasn't good.

Apparently Riddle mistake the fear Harry was showing to reflect that Harry was telling the truth, because he looked suddenly bored and released Harry from the binds. Harry grabbed his wand back.

"Muggleborn then."

Taking a deep breath, and realizing he had a great opening, Harry said, "Half-blood. My mother was a witch from Surrey, and I was living outside of Great Britain for the past few years which is why I didn't go to Hogwarts, but then my parents were attacked so I was picked up as a ward of the British Ministry of Magic."

Immediately, Riddle's eyes narrowed. "Then why lie?"

"With the political climate the way it was, Dippet thought me working with a blank slate made it easy for me to be protected by a pureblood name," he continued seemlessly. In his head, Harry gave himself a pat on the back. He was getting good at this lying thing.

Riddle for a moment seemed to accept this and moved to let Harry out.

Well, that was close. Harry tried not to show too much relief, else giving up the game. "Don't tell anyone, 'kay?" Harry said.

Riddle looked out the window, disinterested, and Harry interpreted that to be agreement. But when Harry tried to unlock the door with an Alohomora and opened it when suddenly the door slammed violently shut.

Harry was unable to move, again. Though not bound by ropes, just frozen in place.

Great, now Riddle was showing off how many types of immobilizations he knew how to do on a person. Harry was uncomfortably stuck holding onto the doorknob and his wand with his right hand.

Riddle once again moved close to Harry, narrowing his eyes, and bent down to meet Harry's gaze. "You're lying."

"I'm not!" Harry managed to say. Oh good, he could talk. All the better for Riddle to interrogate him with.

Riddle stared intently at Harry before grabbing Harry's wrist. For a snake, the guy had a surprisingly warm grip. The prefect slid his hand slowly along Harry's and stopped at the Holly wand. "This is an Ollivander wand." How would Riddle even know that? Harry decided to just keep his mouth shut this time. If Riddle wasn't just guessing, Harry would be caught in another lie. And it was too late to claim his mother just home-schooled him in London since he wouldn't have lied about that to begin with... Maybe he could say that his local wandmaker had no matches so she sent him to her home country to get a wand? Harry was about to open his mouth but he realized, he had waited too long to respond. Riddle would know that Harry just managed to make that up. Harry was dreadful at lying.

Some realization was dawning on Riddle's face as he plucked the wand out. "This is the brother wand to mine."

"Unlikely. And even if that were true, I'm sure there are multiple students with cores from the same source..."

"Ollivander told me my core only had one brother, making the relationship particularly potent. There's a way to prove it, in any case."

Pointing his yew wand at the holly and vice versa, he cast a Wingardium Leviosa using both.

The golden connection formed, albeit a small one, since there was no real battle of the wills occurring. Echoes of the various spells taught in their lessons, and then some, were appearing. But Riddle cut it off quickly. Probably to prevent any evidence of dark spells from appearing, Harry theorized.

"Are you going to let me go now?"

Still thoughtful, Riddle released him and tossed back the holly wand. Using the distraction as an opportunity, Harry opened the exit and sprinted out. Riddle didn't follow, but Harry still ran straight back to the Common Room, in case Riddle realized that he still didn't get any actual answer to Harry's true identity.

…

When Harry got back to his bed, he was able to breath comfortably again. He was snuggled warmly under his comforter when the bed curtains were pulled open and he saw his roommates looking down at him. He groaned. "Go away."

Mervin whispered excitedly, "We're going to go exploring in the Forbidden Forest."

"And what about Poppy?"

"Obviously we won't tell her."

"Must I?"

"Are you Gryffindor or not?" Barty challenged.

Harry sighed a heavy sigh. He really didn't need so many adventures not when he came so close to danger not an hour before. "Okay... when?"

"Don't worry we'll be going after the Quidditch match," Michael said.

That wasn't at all what Harry was thinking about. Pulling the covers over his head, he grumbled out a "Fine" and with a wave of his hand, the bed curtains pulled close.

To his side, he heard Mervin quietly cheering a "Yes!"

…..

Saturday of the Quidditch match was here. Michael was giving them a straight forward pep talk: "We worked hard. Now let's go win!"

As they stood in the entryway, waiting to enter the Pitch, Harry was reminded of his excitement and anxiety of his first Quidditch match. Except this time, there was no pressure, there was no secrecy. His housemates out in the stands were wishing him the best. It was great.

Harry paused in his reminiscing and the memory of Quirrel and his bucking broom drifted into his mind. Not that he thought Riddle had any motive to kill him in this era, but the last time he let his guard down around the Slytherin King, he got bound up and interrogated.

"Mitch –"

"Yeah?"

"You're a sixth year, right?"

"Yeah." Mitch was a woman of few words.

"Does Tom Riddle usually watch Quidditch matches?"

"Yeah."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Harry was surprised, Riddle didn't seem the type. It seemed like Harry may have said that out loud because Porter jumped in – "He always comes. It's easy to tell he's there because he's the one Slytherin that doesn't move around cheering or booing in the matches. I think he just shows up to be there but he's always reading some book.

That made sense. Riddle was there just to placate his followers and act like "one of them." It helped him relax a bit. He wouldn't be watching, really.

"AND LET'S WELCOME OUR GRYFFINDORS TO THE STAGE, LED BY CAPTAIN MICHAEL JOHNSON..."

….

Half an hour into the game, the score was tied 40-40. The teams here were evenly matched, and except for the usual bludger being flung around more violently towards the non-purebloods of the Gryffindor team, the animosity between the two houses wasn't nearly as vicious as it was in Harry's time.

Harry drifted at a moderate height, near the top of the stands, choosing not to expend that much energy and just basking in what will be one of the sunnier games of the year while the Slytherin Seeker occasionally moved up or down, maybe to see if Harry would follow.

He looked over to his friends in the Gryffindor stands and he smiled. Everyone was sporting a gold and red, and Poppy was levitating a big banner that said "STAY SAFE, HARRY!" It warmed his heart. He wondered absentmindedly if the Gryffindor stands was where the Snitch usually rested between its appearances on the field. The fluttering ball of gold would certainly blend in...

It gave him an idea, he started drifting around the edges of the Pitch, discretely glancing at the audience stands. The student announcer made a teasing reference to "LOOKS LIKE SOMEONE IS MAKING SOME SERIOSLY SLOW ROUNDS. MOVE IT ALONG, KEY," but the Slytherin seeker didn't seem to pay any mind to Harry, since it didn't seem like Harry had spotted anything yet. Instead, the other seeker moved closer to the center of the action.

Logically, that would put the Slytherin at an advantage. If the Snitch showed up anywhere other than where Harry was, say- the opposite side of the Pitch or the center, Harry wouldn't get it in time.

But he also figured that it would take more effort for the other seeker to look in all directions than it would for Harry to focus on the edges of the Pitch, where his instincts told him the Snitch was likely hiding today.

He looked into the various stands.. Gryffindor... Hufflepuff.. Guests... Ravenclaw... Slytherin -

Harry met the eyes of Tom Riddle, who, true to his teammates words, had a book in his lap. But unlike what they described, it looked like Riddle was actually watching the match. Or rather, he was watching Harry. Harry squashed the strange feeling that was growing inside him. It wasn't like the first time Riddle had directed his attention at him. And it wouldn't be the last, if you consider what Harry knew of the future.

"I wasn't aware I was so distracting," said Riddle, smirking, reminding Harry that he was in a middle of the game. Harry huffed, but then the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

"On the contrary..." Harry flew closer and reached his arm outward toward Riddle, only to grab the gold Snitch hovering silently a few feet above his head. "... I hardly noticed you were there."

Harry quickly backed away from the stand, holding the Snitch high in the air.

"WHAT'S THAT? MY GOD. KEY HAS IT! KEY HAS THE SNITCH! THE GAME IS 200-70. GRYFFINDOR WINS!"

Harry's heart was beating really quickly. The victory adrenaline rush, for sure.

….

"Sorry, Harry," said Slughorn. "I know you want to try out the Amortentia and find a way home, but Grindelwald nearly took Beauxbatons the other day. Professors Dumbledore and Dippet have been working on adding new protections to all the schools."

….

Next Saturday morning, the Gryffindor seventh year boys got up bright and early, grabbed a quick breakfast, and headed to an edge of the Forbidden Forest. Harry made sure that along the entire edge of the forest that they chose one that wouldn't accidentally lead them close to Aragog's nest. Not like Aragog would be big as Harry would remember, but the bite even from a bike-sized spider may still be very damaging. Harry grabbed bezoars from Slughorn in case anything went wrong, and read up on some survival spells before today.

"This is going to be great!" said Mervin.

"Keep it down, don't want to attract any dangerous elements," Benjamin said, who came prepared with snacks from breakfast in case they were in the Forest past lunch.

….

A few minutes into their trip, they stopped by a small stream. Harry heard some hooves and assumed they were centaurs but he turned he saw Thestrals. He grinned and approached them.

"What're you doing, mate?"

"Thestrals are here."

The others nodded but mostly shrugged. It was morbid, but otherwise uninteresting to them. One thestral lowered itself, as if to get Harry to climb on top. Harry shook his head but pet it anyway. A second thestral tried to chew on his wand, as if confused about it. Another started nudging him, as if to push them back in the direction of Hogwarts.

"It'll be okay," Harry said quietly to them. "We're not planning to go too deep."

Regardless, the small herd stayed with them, and Harry wasn't stupid enough to deny how useful they'd be in case anything did happen. He let the others lead the way, and Harry looked around for any potential dangers.

Half an hour later, Mervin collapsed onto a stump. "This is boring."

"This was your idea," grumbled Barty, who went into Ben's bag to grab a piece of fruit.

"Obviously the safer areas aren't really quest material," said Ben. "Let's just -"

Mervin had perked up and made a heroic pose. "That's a great idea, Ben, let's go deeper!"

"No," came the unanimous cry. ("That's not what I said at all," mumbled Ben.)

"Come on.." he whined back.

"We don't actually know what's in there. There could be Lethifolds, or poisonous snakes, or rabid bats... This Forest is Forbidden for a reason."

"It can't be that bad. If there was anything truly dangerous it probably wandered near the school at some point and was dealt with...?"

"Let's go back, Mervin. Lunch? A big feast awaits you..."

Sighing, Mervin grumbled an agreement.

As they made to turn, Harry heard twigs snapping, a thump, and Ben's sudden screams. "HELP!"

Harry had his wand out before the others even processed what they were seeing.

Crap. Young Aragog had somehow managed to find them. Harry thought he'd been cautious but it looks like this Aragog hadn't created his nest yet and was in the area to scavenge. And considering it was still the size of a coffee table, possibly even avoiding larger predators in the Deeper end of the forest.

"Guys, help me!" There was webbing attached to Ben's leg and the surprisingly strong giant spider was pulling him in.

"STUPEFY!"

Harry's spell hit the spot the Acromantula had just occupied, but Aragog was too fast and jumped to the side. Aragog made an angry clipping sound as he continued to pull Ben into a denser part of the Forest.

"BEN!"

"INCENDIO! LACERO!" shouted Barty from behind him, apparently the first of his friends to wake up from their shocked trance. The two spells missed entirely and hit nearby trees instead. Harry just managed to jump out of the way of a falling branch.

"YOU'RE GOING TO HURT BEN!" Harry shouted back. He pointed his holly wand ahead and shouted a "IMPEDIMENTA." Missed.

"Shit shit shit!" said Michael behind him.

As Harry tried stopping the flames so he could continue pursuing Aragog and Ben, he looked behind him to see a swarm of angry doxies whose home had just caught on fire. They started attacking his friends and he heard several yelps of pain. They were being bitten.

Damn they were getting in his way. Now they'll need medical help for those bites too.

Looking ahead to where Aragog was still pulling Ben deeper and deeper, Harry made a decision. He whistled, catching the attention of the Thestrals and pointed vigorously to his friends.

The thestrals understood immediately and grabbing the boys by their collars threw them on each others backs. Another thestral was beating its wings to fight off the doxies.

"GET HELP!" he shouted after them as the thestral herd flew his friends to safety.

Now able to concentrate with one problem at a time, Harry ran after Aragog, trying not to trip while shooting some binding curses. It was hard to shoot spells, though, since the spider was able to duck behind Ben while pulling him and change directions very easily. As they continued stumbling quickly through the trees, Harry tried casting spells on Ben to get him away from Aragog instead of stopping the spider itself. He cast a silent Levicorpus but his spell was weak due to his exhaustion and Aragog was able to pull Ben away as soon as the body started to lift.

At this point he wasn't sure how deep they were in the Forest. And then a thought occurred to him. Talking to Aragog distracted the spider long enough last time – "ARAGOG!"

The Acromantula paused and made an angry scissor-like sound. "You know my name."

Harry managed to just catch up, but the spider was still in an attack position.

"This human is mine. I am hungry. Leave and I will spare you."

"You know Hagrid wouldn't like that. He didn't teach you to eat people," Harry was trying to catch his breath. Must have fallen unconscious in the shuffle. Harry wasn't sure if it was because he passed out or because the spider bit him.

"I am alone. This human is mine."

Huh. "Hagrid doesn't know where you are," Harry guessed. "I'm absolutely sure he would feed you steaks if he knew you were okay." Harry walked slowly, trying to regain strength.

All of the spider's eyes were on Harry, he was sure it would see even a slightest movement of Harry's wand arm, but at this proximity, he would be able to attack Aragog without threat of hurting Ben.

"You lie. This human is mine."

Thinking to his past (future) interactions with the spider, he remembered that Acromantulas weren't exactly native to the Forest and yet he had a large colony of children. "Hagrid.. Hagrid will bring you a wife – a mate."

This seemed to interest Aragog enough that Harry was able to shoot a stunner at the spider, missing the body but getting a leg. He quickly severed the webbing, stuffed a bezoar from his pocket down Ben's throat, cast a Levicorpus on his friend, and willed the body to follow along as Harry ran away from the spider.

At this point however, Harry had no idea where he was. He didn't know which direction was safety and which direction was deeper into the dangerous forest.

"Point me." His wand started spinning but before he could see where it could stop, he heard a very fast moving danger – Aragog was scurrying towards Harry.

Instinctively, Harry backed away, only to fall in a mud puddle. From the corner of his eye, he could see his wand-compass point to indicate that the general direction of Hogwarts was the same direction as where Aragog was coming from. They were fucked.

"Avada Kedavra," came the level, familiar, and, for the first time in history, comforting voice of Tom Marvolo Riddle, followed by a brilliant green light.

But where on an inhale of breath, Harry felt relieved, the following exhale made Harry realize a dark truth.

"You.. you killed him."

Riddle was incredulous. "He was a monster." Pot, meet kettle.

"You... you killed... him..."

"And here I was expecting to be showered with gratitude. Are you angry I used an Unforgiveable to protect a student? They'll probably give me an award for killing the damn beast, not thrown into Azkaban."

If the world didn't collapse on itself now, it should have. Aragog was dead. Here was irrevocable evidence of the timeline being fucked and nothing happened. The death of this creature, one he was sure would be alive fifty years from now, didn't cause a paradox.

But what did that mean? Did it mean nothing he did now would change the future? Was this an alternate dimension? Or, worse, was his future truly lost, and the only semblance of what he knew of the late century was now just a memory in his mind? Harry couldn't think straight, and being exhasted and covered with mud didn't help.

"I've never met anyone so Gryffindor. A hero complex combined with a naive morality? Come on, Key, or Dagworth-Granger, or Harry, whoever you are. You and Solomon need to be checked for Acromantula poisoning."

And with slow, trepid steps, Harry Potter followed Voldemort to safety, stepping over the body of an eight-legged paradox.