Despite the fact that his true residency was at the same time never and always the Dursley's house – stepping off of the train to return there for the summer had Harry in an absurdly intolerable mood, that seemed determined to last throughout the break. His constant irritation and annoyance was also setting Tom on edge, and Harry wished that Evan was there to help mediate things between them.

He was currently in the make-shift library of his mind, staring at Tom, who was pointedly ignoring that he had any of Harry's attention at all. In response to this, Harry sighed loudly, and slouched in his chair.

"Sit up properly, Harry." Tom chided without looking up from his book.

"It's my birthday," Harry responded, somewhat dejectedly, "Just in case you wanted to pretend that you care or something."

Tom didn't even offer the child a verbal response, flipping to the next page of his book and humming slightly to himself at whatever it was that he was reading.

"You know, when I mentioned to you how completely apathetic you are, I wasn't really trying to encourage you to be more open about it."

Tom released a long breath and shut the book, placing it down on the end table beside him. "You told me last night that you weren't interested in any lessons today."

Harry tried not to pout but he still looked disappointed. He just wasn't enjoying his time away from school at all. He'd been trapped inside of his mind for over a year now and for some reason he'd assumed that there would be some kind of break. He'd thought that perhaps he'd be allowed full control over his body during the summers and that the 'other' Harry was just something to be used for Hogwarts. This was not the case. Apparently, the 'other' Harry was just as much him as he was, which he was having a hard time taking seriously, considering he was the one who even knew there was another Harry.

Also, Tom seemed determined not to interact with him unless it was for some sort of academic purpose, which totally sucked since he was the only company Harry had without Evan poking about.

"Can we at least focus on something fun, since it's my birthday?" He pleaded, wanting someone to acknowledge his twelfth year of life aside from himself. He'd had no post from his friends at all, and the Dursley's were completely preoccupied all morning. They'd flipped out on him for using the 'M' word and were otherwise only concerned with some sort of dinner tonight with a potential client for Vernon. The 'other' Harry was quite stressed out about it, and while Harry could sense that himself, like a lingering itch, he didn't feel that it much concerned him.

"You mean more of the mundane magic?" Tom asked, clearly exasperated.

Harry nodded eagerly. "I know, I know – you think it's silly of me to want to learn the same stuff they're learning in Hogwarts when eventually my minds will merge and blah blah blah, which is why I have to learn the dark spells now because blah. I get it, but how about three? Just three little light spells! You can even teach me them in Parsel if you want!"

Tom did not look like he was going to agree too easily so Harry tried to mentally prepare himself for more disappointment.

"… Which three do you want to learn?"

Harry knew that his answer would ultimately determine whether or not he got Tom to agree, so he thought on that for a short moment.

"How about I pick one, and you can teach me another two that are totally your choice as long as they're light spells?"

With rather a large show of reluctance, Tom nodded. Harry grinned excitedly and scooted his chair closer. "I want to learn the revealing charm. The concept of the spellwork behind it is really curious to me, because it seems like it would take the same base structure of finite, but then that kind of clashes against the nature of the spell, seeing as one nullifies and the other activates. Do you know what I mean?"

Again, Tom nodded. Harry was worried for a second that this entire lesson would somehow be held in complete silence; but then his companion finally spoke.

"The incantation for the revealing charm is Aparecium. I'm certain you can tell me the origins of the incantation, yes?"

Harry agreed eagerly. Tom had been working with him a lot lately on spell theory and why certain spells got their incantations from Latin, others from Greek, and some French. Many thought that it had to do with the chosen language of the first wizard to cast it, but Tom said that there was magic in the words themselves.

"It's Latin," Harry answered, "Most mundane spells are Latin, and spells that aim to counter wards are always either Latin or Arabic, but it doesn't sound Egyptian to me."

"Yes, it comes from the Latin 'apparere' which means 'to appear.' I think we should start you with something small, rather than trying to reveal entire spells or lifeforms. I will write something on parchment in an invisible ink and you can practice with that."

Harry was very excited to be learning this spell, and chatted amicably with Tom all throughout his attempts at casting it, with Tom pointing out here and there what he was doing wrong, or why it wasn't working. The spells that Tom elected to teach him were 'Defodio' which was a gouging spell, and 'Confringo' the blasting curse. Harry tried not to show his amusement that even with mundane magic Tom managed to encourage violence and disruption.

He knew that there must have been a time where Tom was just as excited as he was about all magic and not just the stereotypical evil stuff. In fact, according to Evan, part of the Dark Lord's campaign was the equality of all magic – to those of worthy bloodlines, of course – and freedom to practice magic at any age, in order to better oneself. Harry wondered if Tom's strong lean towards dark magic in comparison to the Dark Lord's belief in magical balance was why Evan seemed to be behaving as if Tom and the Dark Lord were on different sides now.

"Tom?" Harry asked, several hours later, after blasting a hole straight through a large iron cube that Tom had constructed for him to fire at.

"Hmm?"

"You do know that if I ever had to pick between you and –er – Voldemort, I would have to pick him, right? It's nothing against you, it's just, you and Evan can't go raising me one way and then expect me to be another, you know?"

Tom snorted and banished the cube, waving his wand and sitting down in front of the service of tea that he'd summoned for them. "Harry, you must promise me that nothing I do will ever change that."

Harry gaped at the man, blinking a few times before he fully understood what he was saying. "Wait – what?"

"If my beliefs differ with Lord Voldemorts, or if I begin to oppose him in any way, you must always choose him over me, do you understand? I have been living independently from him for nearly eleven years now, and parts of me have grown with you – grown like you, more than you can imagine. There is no telling who or what I may become the longer I remain here with you, but if there is one thing that the both of us should always remain positive of, it is that Lord Voldemort remains the highest law to be adhered to. No matter what."

Harry was only more confused. "Why on earth would you say something like that?"

Naturally, just as their conversation was getting interesting, it was interrupted. By one of the most peculiar and downright frightening looking things that Harry had ever laid eyes on. He almost screamed at the little creature, almost kicked it or something, but then it was speaking so passionately that he had to pause his impulsive actions to listen.

"Dobby will not be letting Bad-Potter be making Good-Potter unsafe! Good-Potter must listen to Dobby's warning and stay home!"

"What are you?" Harry asked curiously, "How on earth did you get in here?"

"Dobby is seeing all of his Masters twisty magics! Bad-Potter must not let Good-Potter go back to Hogwarts!"

Tom frowned, "Do you belong to Lucius, then? Since you can sense his magic and apparate within the barrier, you must be either his or Evans, and I doubt that the Rosier family has any elves left…"

Harry's eyes widened, "Belong?" He asked, outraged, "What, the wizarding world has an entire slave race?"

Dobby was tugging at his ears in distress, "Are neither Harry Potters knowing about house-elves?" He asked, astonished.

Harry had the feeling that he'd really missed something on the television tonight, and again wished that he'd sorted out some sort of rewind function. He was also curious about his wanding, which he had yet to ever experience for himself. There was no telling if the 'other' Harry's wand was compatible with him, and since he didn't know what kind of wand it was, he couldn't make it appear in his headspace.

"No, uh – Dobby? Would you like to sit down with us and tell me what it is that's got you so worked up?"

Tom shut his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh, and Dobby's eyes seemed to get even wider. The pitiful thing began sobbing uncontrollably, and Harry could only make out one in every few hiccupped words. By the general gist of things, it seemed that the elf was in disbelief that such a 'bad-bad-potter' could be a good and kind person.

"Tom, summon another cup of tea, I'm afraid the poor little guy is gonna go into a fit."

At the suggestion that he should be offered a drink, Dobby started to make a high screeching wheeze that Tom clearly found most intolerable, judging by the immediate contortion of his normally emotionless face.

"Elf, get right back to your home and whatever you're supposed to be doing right now or I will torture you so thoroughly that you won't remember Harry Potter's name."

With a final blow of the nose into his pillow-case and a soft pop! Dobby did just that.

"Wow, that was harsh," Harry mused, sipping at his tea and gazing coolly at Tom.

"Anything less than cruelty really just makes them more of a fuss. They're bred to serve. It's in their nature. Even free house elves never do anything with their lives but serve wizards, only they're paid for it instead of … well,"

"Instead of what? Being abused slaves who get nothing in return for their work but another day of shitty life?"

Harry could tell that Tom didn't feel like this conversation was worth his time, and to be honest, he wasn't entirely passionate about creature politics either, but when he'd first read that wizards had little elves working in their houses he had pictured, well … Santa. It was shameful, sure, but he expected a jolly little creature that was helpful and cute, not a distressed haggard bat-like gnome thing in a dirty pillow case, covered in even more burns and bruises than bandages – which was saying something.

Harry seriously doubted that Santa's elves received corporal punishment, and he liked to hope that they got to keep some of the toys they made – or at least, that was what he assumed an elf's salary would be: toys.

"I thought you already knew what a house elf is…" Tom murmured.

"Well, I did! But … I just, I didn't imagine anything like that."

Tom allowed his expression to turn mildly sympathetic for a moment but it was over as soon as it had begun, and Harry almost wanted to roll his eyes at the brief show of almost-kindness.

"Harry, there are a great many things in this world that are not going to turn out the way that you imagined."

"What's up with you today?" Harry chided, "First you get all deep on me about The Dark Lord and now this? It's just a house elf Tom, lighten up!"

Later Harry would wonder if that was Tom's first attempt to make him understand – to allude to the constant ringing fact that everything he saw happening was bigger than it appeared, and that his only choice at that point in time was to sit back and enjoy the ride. He knew that Tom wasn't telling him to make a change in his life, but perhaps, back then, he had been trying to open Harry's eyes, at least. To let him see his life for what it truly was.

XxBxExLxOxVxExDxX

"He's with the Weasley's."

"What do you mean he's with the Weasley's?" Evan shouted, stomping with frustration as he paced around his bedroom furiously

"They picked him up in a flying car, and that tracking parchment you gave me for him says he's at The Burrow, which is the home of Molly and Arthur Weasley."

Lucius was seated on one of the lounges in Evan's suite, sipping delicately at a glass of iced water while his elf cooled him with a large fan. "Evan why on earth would you give this silly old hag tracking parchment for the Potter boy? What if it got into the wrong hands?"

Evan was thoroughly exasperated with both Mrs. Figg and his lover at this point and pulled angrily at his hair. "Lucius, we are the wrong hands! If we are worried for Harry's health, and Dumbledore is worried for Harry's health then whose hands are the wrong fucking hands?"

"Mr. Vernon Dursley is very unconcerned with the boy's health," Mrs. Figg supplied, speaking loftily to them in clear and precise sentences – as was typical for one under the influence of both a strong imperius and a liberal drop or two of truth serum.

"You will not speak unless spoken to," Evan snapped back at her, collapsing dramatically beside Lucius on the couch and only just then noticing how aggressive the man's elf was being with that fan.

"And you – calm down with that ridiculous fanning of yours! It's a hot summer day, not a photoshoot for Witch Weekly."

The elf leapt and apologized profusely, and Lucius shook his head. "This one's a bit of a lost cause, I'm afraid. Dobby! Fetch me another elf and go make yourself useful back at the manor."

"Yes Master!" He peeped, and then popped out of sight, very quickly replaced by a more respectable looking elf, adorned with a rather divinely embroidered dish towel.

Evan had his wand out and was lazily disabling his apparation wards. "I'm going to take the squib home and see that she's properly memory charmed and such. When I get back we can start to sort out how we're getting Harry away from the Weasley's for long enough to plant the watch on him."

Lucius agreed and gave a half-hearted wave of farewell to his lover as Evan took hold of Mrs. Figg and left with a loud crack. When he felt the wards spring back to life, signaling that Evan would be gone for a few minutes at least, he reached into the deep pocket of his robes and took something out. It was a book. Small, and black. He summoned a quill and ink from across the room and then opened it somewhat cautiously.

'Good Evening, Lucius.' Was written on the page in a formal and tidy script, and Lucius stared down at it, eyes flickering to the fireplace for a second and then looking back down at the writing. He jotted down his own message.

I have to make this very hasty. Evan will return any minute.

The diary had made it painfully clear a great number of times that if anyone – especially Evan Rosier – was to get their hands on the precious little book, it could cause a very dire situation.

'I will not take offense to your hastiness, my friend. I trust you have news for me if you are taking such foolhardy risks?'

Harry Potter is out of your reach, My Lord. He is with the Weasley's, and others from that old rebel group. Even I do not have access to him now, and time is running short if you still hope for full possession before the beginning of term.

'Another child will suffice until I can get to him. Someone he is close to. As I have told you before, this diary is more than you can imagine. If you can place it into the right hands, I can do the rest.'

Of course, My Lord. It will be done.

Lucius had snapped the book closed and pocketed it only moments before Evan returned home, and he was thankful for it. He knew that on some level, his lover had to be sensing the heady thickness of the air that came with such a powerful object, but Lucius was working hard on masking it's dark magic, as he had recently taken a liking to carrying it around with him.

He knew that Evan would be hurt by his betrayal of Harry, but the writer on the other end of this diary was The Dark Lord for Merlin's sake! Surely Evan still agreed that their master came before silly little boy-hero Gryffindors, right?

"Are you well, Lucius? You look like I've just caught you deep in thought," Evan mused, re-entering his room as if he'd never left it. Perhaps it hadn't felt like a long time to him since he hadn't been sitting still through the entire ordeal.

"I was just thinking – would it be alright if I moved some of the questionable artifacts usually kept in my home over here? All this talk of Arthur Weasley is making me nervous. He does so love sticking his nose where it doesn't belong."

Evan nodded, sure that this wasn't actually what was on Lucius' mind but not wanting to force him into anything. "I'm quite the enthusiast of dark objects, as you know. Feel free to make them at home here. Also – speaking of your house, do make sure to let me know when you're ready to head to Diagon Alley with Draco for his school shopping. I need to speak with Mrs. Zabini about something and I thought that would be the perfect chance, since you'll be busy with family affairs and won't miss me."

Lucius scoffed, "Evan I go months and years at a time without seeing you and you arranged for me to not miss you for – what? Two or three hours at most?"

It was actually quite the kind gesture but Lucius enjoyed their bickering too much to not jump at the chance when he saw it there. Things were coming along well. He would plant the diary on one of Harry's friends at some point before the first day of term – those damn Weasley's had to leave the house at some point after all – and then he would plant the pocket watch onto Harry on the train platform before the express took off, he just had to make sure he got there early and all would be well.

A/N: This chapter just seems to drag on and on to me, but I do realize that it is rather essential to the plot so I'm trying to be patient with myself, and hopefully you guys will be patient with me as well.

Thanks so much for all your reviews on previous chapters and a big special thank you to anyone who reviews this one!

Love you ALL!

-Beloved