Robards called him into his office just as Harry was getting ready to head home. He sighed as he turned around and walked towards the man's office. It was late, later than usual and he was hungry and wanted to go home to Tom.

"Sir?" He inquired from the doorway and hoped that Robards had a simple question he wanted to ask.

The head of the Auror's department walked around his desk and sat down with a heavy sigh. "Sit, please."

With a silent sigh of his own Harry sat in the visitor chair and resigned himself to being even later home than he had expected. As he leaned back in the chair he looked at Robards and noted that the man looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair was standing in all directions as if he had been shoving his hand through it several times. The desk was littered with files and empty coffee mugs.

"As you are aware there has been a flux in recent raids and attacks from this group of dark wizards that still claim that the dark lord will rise again, or is back or something. We are not really sure. They started out using his dark mark but it has not been seen since December after it became common knowledge that Voldemort was out of Azkaban and in your ownership. We can't find any similarities in the attacks. They seem quite random and they have even attacked a couple of muggle villages. Which is a nightmare for the Departement with all the muggles that have to be oblivated . Well, you know how it is," Robards made a gesture with his hand.

Harry nodded. It was a nightmare really. The logistics alone to make sure all the muggles were oblivated was one hell of a job.

"Yes." Robards sighed again. "What I am really wondering is if there is a chance that Riddle is well enough to come in? Don't take it personal, Potter. You and your team are doing great work but you can't deny that Riddle does have a lot of inside information that could prove to be very valuable."

"I know," Harry answered.

"Well, how is he?"

Skittish. Nervous. Silent. Quiet. Harry tried to decide on how to describe Tom.

"He is better," he settled on in the end. It was the truth after all.

Robards nodded and looked slightly hopeful. "Better as in good enough to come into the office."

Well, that was the question now wasn't it. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "He is better but he is still struggling with certain things. The sight of my Auror robe, or anyones really, is enough to send him into a panic attack. I don't think bringing him here will do him any good."

He didn't add that he wasn't sure that Tom would ever put a foot in the Ministry again unless forced.

"That bloody incident. I should never have left him," Robards grumbled and stared at the wall, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

"You can't blame him, sir. Considering everything in Azkaban and then that, it is no wonder he doesn't want to be around Aurors."

Robards looked back at Harry and blinked. "Of course. I have to admit I hardly think of Riddle as Voldemort anymore. It has been four years since the war and Riddle doesn't look or act anything like Voldemort."

"Even the strongest mind breaks if put under enough pressure."

"Yes. Has he told you anything about those years?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, he has told me quite a lot." He didn't add anything more. It wasn't his place to tell anyone about Tom's experience in Azkaban. Robards seemed to understand because he didn't follow up with any questions concerning those years.

"Well, could you ask him? We can put him in Marcus' office. That way he wouldn't be directly in contact with the Aurors. Or, perhaps I could drop by your house and talk to him, if he is up for that?" He leaned forward with his elbows on the desk and Harry could sense the eagerness rolling off him. They needed to get some lead on who these people were and fast. Tom would be the best source they had available.

Harry felt like he had to warn the man. "Sir, he isn't exactly the same as he was when you last saw him. The incident broke something in him I think." Or, the trip down memory lane at the courtesy of Lucius had. "He is -," Harry stopped. He wasn't sure how to describe Tom. "I am not really sure how to explain it."

"I understand, Potter. I only ask that you ask him."

"I will, but I can't promise anything."

######

"Master Harry is late home."

Harry sighed as he pulled off the red Auror robe and handed it to the elf. "Well, Kreacher, crimes don't only happen within working hours."

Kreacher's eyes narrowed but he didn't say anything more about the tropic. "Master's slave had problems with the food, again."

Probably another nightmare Harry thought. Tom had managed to overcome most of his fear about eating by himself but some days were more difficult than others. Especially if a nightmare had disrupted his sleep. The worse the nightmare the more trouble Tom usually had the day after.

"Has he eaten at all today?" Harry asked as he thumbed through the mail on the table. There was nothing special. The monthly letter from Gringotts and a couple of other letters.

"Yes, master's slave has eaten both breakfast and lunch."

Harry nodded. Good. "Where is Tom?"

Some days Tom would greet him in the entrance hall when he came home. If he didn't then he would normally show up after a short time when he realised that Harry was home. He had a sneaking suspicion that Kreacher would alert Tom on those days and scold him for not meeting his master when he came home.

Neither of them liked each other both but it seemed like they were tolerating each other if nothing else.

"Library, master Harry."

Of course. The one place he could be sure to find Tom. "Thank you," he said as he started on the stairs. "Could you bring something light to eat? I don't think I will be able to wait until supper. Bring enough for two in case Tom wants something."

He stopped at the office to put away his briefcase before he made his way back down to the library.

As he came through the door he stopped short. He could feel his eyebrow lift as he took in the complete chaos of the room. There were books everywhere on the floor. Some stacked while others were simply laying in piles. What in the world?

He took in the mostly empty shelves as he looked around for Tom. A movement behind one of the shelves led him in that direction.

"Tom?" he called as he looked around.

"Here, master," came Tom's slightly muffled voice from around the shelf where he was climbing down a ladder with more books in one arm. Just as he reached the floor the books on the top overbalanced and crashed to the floor. Tom jumped back to avoid having them land on his feet and thus the rest of them crashed to the floor as well.

"Careful," Harry snapped in worry.

"Sorry, master," Tom mumbled as he bent down to arrange the books in a pile. He probably thought Harry was scolding him about the books, Harry thought with a sigh as he bent down and started helping him.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing?" he asked and gestured around himself.

Tom looked a bit sheepishly. "Organising the library."

Harry blinked. "Why?"

Tom shrugged. "There is no system at the moment. It's annoying when you are looking for a particular book or tropic." He looked up and Harry frowned as he caught sight of his face. Reaching out he took Tom by the chin and tilted his head towards the windows to have a better look. On his right side there was a bruise blooming.

"Been fighting with that pumpkin plant of yours again?" he asked, trying to hide a smile.

Tom had been in some sort of a fight with the plant for over a week. Harry wasn't sure exactly what they couldn't agree on but apparently the plant was as stubborn as Tom. It was not the first time it had lashed out at Tom but it was the first time it had landed a hit as far as Harry knew.

"Not my fault it won't come to its senses," Tom muttered but he didn't try to pull his face out of Harry's hold.

Harry stifled a laugh as he took out his wand to heal the bruise.

Then he sat back on his heels and looked around at the complete chaos around him.

"Well, this is going to take quite some time," he remarked. Wondering if perhaps that was why Tom had started on the project.

"Probably," Tom answered. There were dark circles under his eyes which confirmed Harry's suspicion that he had not slept well. He rose to his feet.

"I asked Kreacher to bring some food. I have to finish a report I promised Robards two days ago."

Tom looked at him and his eyes narrowed. "He told you." It was not a question.

Harry sighed. "Tom, he always gives me a report when I come home."

The eyes narrowed even more. "You don't trust me." Again it was not a question.

"Tom, it is not that I don't trust you. He gives me a report because you are not good at recognizing your own needs and problems and as such you don't tell me about them." For all that Tom had seemed more settled and content during the last week and a half then he ever had been, he still seemed to have problems grasping that Harry cared about him. About his well-being. "Nightmare?"

Tom looked away and gave a short nod.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

The question is answered with a shrug.

Well, Harry thought. There was still a long way to go before Tom would fully trust Harry. There was nothing he could do to speed up that process either. Harry felt more settled too after having come to the realisation that he did not blame this version of Voldemort for his parents death. That he actually liked this version of Voldemort and he didn't mind sharing his life and house with him. That he cared about Tom. That the man had everything he needed because he was dependent on Harry for everything. There was something satisfying in having someone to take care of because Harry had chosen to do so. Not because he was being forced.

Not that Tom was the easiest person to take care of however. The man had never experienced the feeling of being cared for and as such he didn't know how to accept it.

"Didn't want to disturb your sleep, master." Tom answered, still not looking at Harry. Instead he was stacking the books on top of each other.

Like that, Harry thought and sighed inwardly. Tom didn't think Harry cared enough that he could wake him in fear of Harry becoming angry.

"I would rather you wake me if you think I can help," Harry reprimanded in a soft tone. Tom had after all seemed to sleep better with Harry close the other times.

Tom didn't sound like he was convinced when he answered. "Yes, master."

"Good. I am going to finish the report. Come join me if you want to."

######

To Harry's surprise Tom did join him fifteen minutes later. He had expected Tom to prefer to stay with his books and his new project. Still, his charge came into his office and settled down in his usual place on the floor. Harry watched him as he knelt down and noted the tension in his neck and the way he held himself.

Reaching out to put his hand on Tom's neck to try and calm him and he was surprised when Tom flinched sideways and ended up half kneeling, half sitting, his body turned away from Harry. Harry frowned. "Easy, Tom," he said as brown, now terrified eyes met his for a moment before being turned towards the floor.

Okay, that was not normal. During the last week after their talk Tom had seeked out Harry most evenings and seemed to enjoy the occasional touch. Now, however, he simply looked scared.

Tom swallowed. "I am sorry, master," he said in a voice so low that Harry almost couldn't catch what he said.

"What's wrong?"

"Just the nightmare, master."

Well, nightmares normally didn't make Tom scared of Harry. It had to have been one hell of a nightmare. Harry wondered if he should push or not as he leaned back into his chair. Deciding to wait he didn't comment. Instead he changed the subject.

"Except for fighting with that pet vegetable of yours, have you spent the whole day in the library?"

"Fruit."

Tom looked up and apparently saw Harry's confusion because he continued. "It's a fruit. From the Cucurbita family, not a vegetable."

Of course Tom would know that. He probably read it in some book. Harry hated the sodding plant. He had tried to appease the bloody thing several times but never succeeded.

"And yes."

The project Tom had started on would take several weeks from the looks of it. Especially since he had to do it without magic to help him.

A pop alerted him to the arrival of Kreacher, carrying a tray with tea and small sandwiches. Nothing too heavy as he would be serving supper later.

"Thank you," Harry said automatically.

"Kreacher will be serving supper at eight o'clock, master Harry," the elf announced before popping away.

Harry took one of the small sandwiches with ham and cheese and cut it in three. Considering Tom's behaviour he hardly believed the man would eat by himself. Without looking he casually held out one of the pieces towards Tom while reaching for a sandwich with his other hand. He could feel Tom's lip against his fingers as the man carefully took the offered morsel.

His thoughts turned back to Tom's library project once more. Would it hurt to make things a little easier for him?

On the floor Tom moved back to his knees and was slowly gravitating towards Harry and a sense of relief washed through Harry when he felt the familiar weight of Tom's body lean against his legs. A bit hesitant at first but then the man seemed to relax. Carefully Harry let his hand drop to the pale swan-like neck and, except from a small flinch, Tom allowed the touch.

Harry fed him another one of the pieces of sandwich and felt the strained tendons in the neck relax more and more. Good. Harry would have been worried if Tom had continued to avoid him.

"It will take you days, if not weeks, to organise the library," Harry ventured.

Tom shrugged. "Yes, probably."

Perhaps that was the reason why Tom had started the project after all. A way to keep his mind busy during the day.

So far Harry had not pushed at him or asked him to return to work with him. He had hoped that Tom would suggest so himself - to come back - but the man had not seemed keen on it.

He did understand that Tom needed time. Time to come to terms with what had happened. Perhaps he would never be able to return to the Ministry. Harry doubted that but he did understand why Tom thought that might be the case.

Then again, the one place Tom was allowed the most access to his magic was at work during the cases, or duels. Harry knew that a lot of Aurors hoped Tom would return to the monthly duelling sessions. Tom had probably almost forgotten how it felt to use magic by now. First the years in Azkaban and then being cut off from it when Harry brought him home. Perhaps a reminder?

His mind made up, he spoke. "You can use the levitation charm to help you in the library, but you can only use it in the library and only with the intention of bringing the books up and down from the shelves."

Tom's head jerked up and in his surprise he could not conceal the excitement that shone in his eyes. It made him seem younger and somehow vulnerable. Harry felt a twinge of regret for what he would have to ask of him. He decided to wait. Let Tom have time to enjoy using his magic.

"Thank you, master," Tom smiled and started to rise.

"Oh no, you don't get to run off before you finish the meal," Harry said with a smile and caught him by the neck. Tom froze at the hand on his neck before settling back down on his knees. He didn't look too happy but the pressure of Harry giving his neck a brief squeeze seemed to settle him. His eyes closed half way and Harry could feel him leaning into the touch.

"Eat and drink your tea. Then you can run off."

######

The books moved and floated through the air as Tom directed them where he wanted them. Some floated down to the ground while others sorted themselves into piles. He twisted his wand and sent the first row of books he had sorted back up onto the shelves.

He could have done the job without his wand too, but after being cut off from his magic for so long he was out of practise in the finer art of wandless magic. Even his usually so powerful magic felt dormant. Like it had been hibernating for too long and was now trying to wake up. It was like reaching for something that felt solid only to feel his hand grab at smoke. The feeling had been there when he had participated in the duel at the Ministry too but not as pronounced as now.

It would get better, he knew that, but at the moment he felt weak. Not only was his mind and body damaged beyond what he would have thought possible, but it was an even bigger blow to discover that his magic had taken a hit as well. It made him feel vulnerable in a new way. Most of his life he'd had his magic to support him. With it he had been the strongest, the best. The magic had protected him and helped him become the most powerful wizard of his time.

A frown formed on his forehead as he could feel two of the books furthest away from him lose momentum and were drifting towards the floor. He concentrated and felt sweat break out on his forehead as he forced his magic to respond in order to keep the books floating.

"Wow."

The sudden sound of a voice behind him made him flinch as he had not heard Harry enter the room. His focus shattered and all the books crashed to the floor as Tom whirled around. He knelt with his hands and wand in his lap. "Master," he breathed, his voice slightly off from the struggle to keep the books in the air.

He glanced up and saw Harry staring at the books that had dropped to the floor. "How can you keep five books levitating in different directions at the same time?" he asked with awe in his voice.

Oh. Tom hadn't thought about that. To him five books was nothing special but Harry looked starstruck. "Practise, master," he simply answered.

The smile on Harry's face slowly disappeared and was replaced by a frown. The man rubbed a hand over his forehead and he walked over to the couch by the fireplace. "I need to talk to you for a moment, Tom."

Tom's heart skipped a beat at the seriousness of the voice and his pulse quickened. Had he done something? He didn't think so.

When he didn't say anything or moved, Harry looked up and beckoned his hand. "Come here." He threw a pillow down on the floor at the other end of the couch. Tom rose and knelt on the pillow. The voice Harry had used did nothing to calm him. He put the wand on the coffee table, the books behind him already forgotten.

"Master?" He asked in what he hoped was a neutral voice.

"You haven't done anything, Tom. Relax." The small smile he was given made his pulse settle. He shifted a bit on the pillow until he was leaning against the couch with his legs out to one side. Harry had never been one to be stickler about how Tom knelt or sat on the floor.

It took what felt like an eternity for Harry to speak. Long enough for Tom to start getting nervous again.

"Robards wanted to know if there was any chance you would agree to return to the Ministry. He and Sommerseth are having a hard time with these raids and attacks and they hope you could give some insight." Harry finally said and Tom understood why the man had hesitated. This was the one trophic Tom didn't want to discuss.

Before Tom could answer or even open his mouth, Harry held up a hand. "I know. We have had this talk. I am not going to force you to come to work with me. Robards mentioned that he would be willing to come here or they could use Sommerseth's office. You don't have to give me an answer now but please think about it. It doesn't have to be more than once or twice."

Tom doubted it would be only once or twice. Even Harry didn't sound like he believed his own words.

His thoughts drifted to the Ministry. The Auror's office with the cubicles and masses of red robes. A shiver ran down his back.

The phantom pain of bones in his ankle breaking made him twitch and move his legs closer. He blinked and rubbed his right thumb against the palm of his left hand to try and distract himself.

Coldness settled over him and he felt the cold stone of the floor in the cells under his knees. A hand in his hair. The feeling of the soft material of the red robes brushing against his side. Against his face.

Stanley's face as he pinned him against the floor. The warden's smile as he forced him to come closer.

A hand around his neck made him flinch and on instinct he lashed out to force the person away from him. The next thing he knew was pain crashing into him. It felt like pins and needles being forced into his head and he covered it with his hands as he screamed and curled in on himself.

As sudden as the excruciating pain came it disappeared. The memory lingered however and washed over him in waves that slowly ebbed away.

"Merlin, Tom. Come here." He felt himself being moved so that he was laying with his head on the pillow he had been sitting on. The pillow was now in Harry's lap and the man was pulling a blanket around him. Tom closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing as he felt Harry tuck the thing around him.

Harry. He had shoved Harry which had triggered the bond. Just like it had done all those weeks ago.

"Panic attack?"

As much as he didn't want to admit it he couldn't exactly deny it either. He nodded. One good thing about the residual pain was that it kept the memories at bay for the moment at least. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the proximity to Harry. How the closeness calmed his nerves and allowed him to relax. He was safe here. With Harry. The last thing he wanted was for Robards and Sommerseth to bring work into the house. To disturb his one safe place.

Harry's hand continued to card through his hair and down his neck but the man stayed silent. Tom sighed inwardly. He doubted that Harry would force him to go to the Ministry but he also knew that Robards and Sommerseth would not give up and that the question would be asked again. Perhaps Sommerseth's office? It was on a different level than the Auror's office and Sommerseth did not wear the red robes of the Aurors.

He felt his mind wander and then started to slip towards sleep as the last of the pain disappeared.

######

He woke to the feeling he wasn't in his own bed. Panic rose as he bolted upright. He blinked a couple of times before he realised he was in Harry's bed. Beside him Harry was rubbing sleep out of his own eyes as he carefully pushed himself up onto his elbow. They were both still dressed.

"Sorry," the man muttered and yawned. "You refused to let go of me and I didn't have the heart to wake you so I put you here."

Tom nodded and pulled the covers up to his chin. When he glanced over he saw Harry studying him. "You are free to return to your own room, you know that?" The man asked in a careful tone like someone who was afraid of scaring a spooked animal even more.

Yes, logically he knew that. "Yes, master," he croaked out and winced at the hoarseness of his own voice. Did he want to go to his own bed? He thought about the dark room, being alone with only his memories for the rest of the night. The thought made him shiver.

He bit his lip before opening his mouth. "May I stay?" It was a wonder that Harry had heard him considering how the words were barely audible. His pulse rose as he started worrying about Harry sending him away. When Harry didn't answer right away the nervousness became worse.

A hand was placed on his arm and he almost collapsed at the relief when he saw Harry smile at him. "Of course, Tom. As long as you don't feel like you have to."

He nodded and sank back down on the mattress. Harry settled back down beside him.

After a couple of minutes the man's breath evened out and he fell back into a deep slumber. Tom lay awake listening to the sound of his breath. Carefully he reached out a hand and let it touch Harry's. The slight contact helped ground him. To his surprise he felt calm and at peace even though he was in bed with the one man who held all the power in the world over him. As he focused on the positive emotions he felt himself being dragged back under as sleep claimed him once more.

######

"Look at you," the voice crooned as Voldemort curled up on the floor. He wanted to snarl and lash out at the man for daring to think he could hurt Lord Voldemort but as soon as the thought took form in his head it was overtaken by pain as the welts on his naked back made themselves known. He clenched his eyes shut and tried to breath through the pain. For all that he saw himself as immortal he wasn't immune to pain and suffering when he did not have his magic to protect him.

"How the mighty have fallen." The figure crouched down beside him and a hand pushed through his hair. Voldemort wanted nothing more than to push the man away but in his current condition he couldn't even find the energy to lift his arm.

The hand continued down his back and fingernails raked over the bleeding wounds. Voldemort groaned and arched his back to no avail. Pain shot like lightning through his nerves.

"So pretty for a Dark Lord," the voice whispered close to his ear as the man leaned closer. "It is almost a shame. But, you know, my sister was a very pretty girl too. Until."

Voldemort tried to pay attention to what the man was saying but he couldn't concentrate fully on the words.

"Do you know what happened to her?"

He had no idea what had happened to her. He didn't even know who she was.

"She was attacked, kidnapped and raped. We found her dumped in a ditch. It was almost impossible to tell who she was at first sight." The words were hissed as the man forced Voldemort down on the floor and leaned over him. A hand petter over his cheek in an almost caring manner.

"She was barely seventeen," the man said wistfully. "Just a child. A child lost to the war all because of your choices. Because of your men."

The furious look on the man's face turned almost thoughtful. "Perhaps it would do you some good to experience what she went through."

Voldemort could feel the rest of his clothes being removed by magic and the reality of the situation caught up with him as the man pinned him to the floor and loosened the belt on his trousers.

He struggled and as he looked up Harry's face looked down at him as the man used his force to hold him down as he pushed his pants down.

A scream woke Tom and he curled up as he realised it was his own voice.

"Merlin, Tom. You almost gave me a heart attack. It was only a nightmare."

Tom looked up and saw Harry leaned over him, a hand on his arm pressing him down. No please, he thought. Not again. Please, not again. He forced himself to move away and crashed off the bed and onto the floor. His shoulder and arm took the brunt of the hit and he groaned but forced himself to continue to move. Please, please, he thought.

He hit the wall and then another as he backed into a corner. Cornered he did the only thing his panicked mind could think of. He knelt and prostrated himself with his forehead to the floor and his hands beside his head.

"Please, master. Please, I'm begging you. I am sorry, but please don't." He trembled uncontrollably as he begged and wondered what else he could offer for his master to leave him alone.

Nothing but silence followed. No footsteps that indicated that Harry was coming closer. No sounds at all. The silence stretched out and suddenly not knowing what his master was doing became worse than waiting.

Tom lifted his head enough to glance upwards to see what his master was doing. To his surprise the man was sitting on the floor with the covers around himself and his head buried in his hands and his elbows on his knees. His shoulders were shaking.

The sight was so surprising that Tom was shaken from his nightmare.

Harry. This was Harry. His master. Not Stanley or the warden. Damn it. This was the second time his nightmares had replaced one of the two with Harry. It had happened the night before as well which had led to him flinching away from Harry in the office.

Tom shuffled slightly. "Master?" He called softly. Harry didn't seem to hear him.

"Harry?" He tried. Still no response. Worry started to gnaw at him and he shuffled closer on his knees. Close enough to reach out and place a hand on Harry's. "Harry?" He tried again and this time the other man looked up.

His eyes were red with tears and he looked incredibly young and vulnerable. Tom swallowed. He had never seen the man like this and it hurt. It hurt because Tom knew it was because of his actions. He opened his mouth a couple of times before he could get the words out.

"I am sorry, Harry. The nightmare. I - it - I just got confused."

Harry nodded and used his hand to dry the tears away. "I know, Tom. I -," he hesitated. "I just don't know what to do," he finished miserably.

Tom swallowed. The guilt that he had brought his master to tears ripped at him. Without thinking he moved closer and settled beside Harry on the floor. He leaned against him. "It's not your fault."

"I know that," Harry snapped, but as Tom flinched his face softened. "I know that, Tom. The problem is that I don't know what to do to help you. You probably need professional help. More than I can provide and I just feel helpless when you are consumed by your memories. When you confuse them with me. I know I am your master with all what that entails but it hurts to think that your brain confuses me with your abusers. I don't know what I am supposed to do here."

"I don't have any answers to that, master," Tom answered honestly after thinking about Harry's words for a couple of minutes.

"I know," Harry replied. "I know. I don't either. Perhaps we just have to figure this out as we go." Slowly Harry lifted his hand and petted through Tom's hair.

Tom could feel himself tense for a moment before the familiar touch helped settle him. As Harry's hand moved it settled on his neck and Tom allowed himself to move so that he was laying on the floor with his head pillowed in Harry's lap. He sighed and closed his eyes.

He didn't have any answers. Perhaps there weren't any. Perhaps there was. Only time would tell.