The Story of a Soul and a Struggle for Control

An End and a Beginning

The gates of Hogwarts were locked, and without Dumbledore there along with him to open the gates, Harry found himself stuck outside. He tapped his wand to the gate, the magical equivalent of knocking, and waited for a member of staff to come along.

He had hardly been waiting a few moments when a flustered McGonagall came right at him, flanked closely by Tonks.

"Potter?" She gasped when she saw him. "Is that you? Oh, thank Merlin you're alright!" She clutched at her chest, the wrinkles on her face standing out more vividly than usual.

"Not so fast, Minerva," Tonks said firmly, pointing her wand at Harry. "What color hair was I wearing when you first saw me?"

"Tonks!" Harry groaned, "That was two years ago! How am I supposed to remember something like that?"

"Well, it was a while ago." Tonks conceded. "But if you were Ginny you would have remembered it, it was the exact same style as Myron Wagtail, that hunk from the Weird Sisters. Never mind. Tell me how I'd made sure your family wouldn't be there that night."

"Oh!" said Harry grinning, "You wrote them a letter saying they had won a contest for best-kept lawn or something."

"One of my most brilliant ideas," Tonks said, lowering her wand. "Are you alright, Harry?"

"Yeah." Harry said, suddenly serious again, "But listen, there's something I need to tell you- about what happened tonight."

"Harry," Tonks said gently, "we already know."

McGonagall gave a choked sob.

"You- you do?" Harry asked incredulously, "What do you know?"

"We know that Dumbledore is dead," Tonks told him solemnly.

"How do you know already?" Harry asked, "Did Snape tell you?"

"Harry, do you know where Snape is?" Tonks asked urgently. "He's gone missing, and some people have been saying-"

"He wouldn't!" Minerva declared fiercely. "Dumbledore trusted Severus. I refuse to believe that he could have been the one to- to-" she couldn't seem to bring herself to say the words 'kill Dumbledore'.

"Snape's not a traitor," Harry assured her. "But wait, if he's missing, how did you know what happened?"

"It was Fawkes," Tonks told him. "He appeared in Grimmauld Place and began making a huge racket. Remus tried to calm him down, and Fawkes transported him to the- the body. Kingsley called in law enforcement. He's at the scene with a few more Aurors at the moment, and we were just going over there."

"We had searched all around the school for you, Potter," McGonagall said, sounding upset. "I knew that you had gone out with Dumbledore tonight, and everyone worried when we couldn't find you. And then we discovered that Severus is missing, and, well, we feared the worse. Where were you?"

"I'm sorry I made everyone worry," Harry replied, "but there wasn't really time for me do anything like leave a note as it was all happening. Voldemort was there, you see, and I followed him."

"Voldemort?" McGonagall asked faintly.

"YOU FOLLOWED HIM?" Tonks demanded angrily, "Harry, of all the stupid, irresponsible- What were you thinking? Was it some sort of attempt at revenge? How did you get away?"

"What? No! You don't understand." Harry said, trying to explain himself, "Voldemort- he's dead."

"What do you mean, he's dead?!" McGonagall demanded incredulously.

"Well, he was kissed by a dementor," Harry explained, cringing as the disbelieving look on her face.

"Potter, perhaps you had better come with us to the crime scene." McGonagall said finally, "You can help the Aurors figure out what happened there. And while you're at it they can check you over for spell damage and the like."

This Harry quickly acquiesced to, as it gave him more time to concoct a believable story of what had happened earlier that night.

Upon leaving the gates of Hogwarts, McGonagall grabbed Harry's arm in a tight grip and apparated to the place in which Dumbledore had died earlier that night. Upon arriving, it took a few moments for the people milling about the place to notice the new arrivals, but then someone shouted "Potter!", and suddenly Harry was swarmed by people, saying his name and asking him questions.

"Alright, everyone," Came Kingsley's deep and authoritative voice above the crowd, "we can't make sense of anything when you're all shouting at him simultaneously. Let me talk to him."

The crowd parted before him, and Harry met Kingsley's eye and grinned in greeting.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," Kingsley said politely, a gentle reminder to Harry not to show too much familiarity around people who didn't know that Kingsley was part of the Order. "Would you be willing to tell us what you know about what happened here tonight?"

Harry nodded, suddenly nervous upon noticing that among the people listening to him were Minister Scrimgeour and Auror Dawlish, neither of whom was particularly fond of Harry. He reminded himself that he could show no hesitation or uncertainty while telling his story, or else he would not be believed.

"This was all planned in advance," Harry told the crowd. "Dumbledore had found a ritual that he thought might be the key to defeating Voldemort. If you cast a revealing charm, you'll be able to find the runes he carved here in advance for the ritual. We'd made them invisible so that Voldemort wouldn't know what we were planning. Dumbledore was cursed over the summer, and he didn't tell anyone, but he was dying, and he didn't have much longer to live. He planned it so that his death would be a part of the ritual to defeat Voldemort. And Snape was the one who told Voldemort that Dumbledore and I would be here, outside of the protections of Hogwarts. It was a trap, and Voldemort fell for it and came."

Whispers and muttering ran through the crowd at Harry's revelations, but Harry ignored them. He was exhausted and just wanted to finish telling his story so that he could go to sleep. Really, in the end, it didn't matter now if anyone believed him or not, Harry had not yet lied about any of the events that evening, and they would find no evidence to disprove his story.

He continued. "Then I started to perform the ritual, but Voldemort must have realized it was a trap because he apparated away before it was done. It must have had some effect on him, though, what we'd already done, because he was acting very strange and disoriented. I followed him to where he had gone, and I found myself right outside Azkaban. When I managed to reach the shore and get into the prison, he had already thrown his wand away and was being kissed by a dementor. So, he's gone."

There was stunned silence at his pronouncement.

"Potter," Scrimgeour growled, "are you claiming that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is dead?"

"Yes, I am." Harry stared around at the unfriendly faces surrounding him. "Can everyone stop looking at me like I'm crazy? I'm the one who insisted all along that he was back, even when nobody else wanted to believe it! Why would I make this up?"

"Well, it is just a bit anticlimactic." Tonks pointed out. "I always imagined that if Voldemort died it would be in the middle of a huge battle scene."

"It's not that." Kingsley corrected gently. "Harry, you must understand that last time he was defeated it was immediately obvious that something had happened. People all over started coming out of trances. We got dozens of frantic firecalls from people saying they had been Imperiused and only just came back to themselves. Nothing like that has happened this time around."

"But you're forgetting that this time around Voldemort wasn't the one to Imperius all these people. He can hardly go around the Ministry with his snake face casting the Imperius left and right, especially not last year when he was hiding the fact that he was back. He's had his Death Eaters do all the dirty work, now that he's in hiding." Harry retorted. "So as long as the Death Eaters are still alive, no one will become un-Imperiused. But he really is dead."

"There's one very simple way to verify Potter's story," Scrimgeour growled. "We need to send someone to Azkaban to try and retrieve the body. I will have it examined by experts to determine if it is genuine or not."

"There won't be a body," Harry said quickly.

That certainly raised a few eyebrows. If they hadn't been inclined to disbelieve his story then, they certainly were now.

"I wish I could help you with finding the body, I really do!" Harry lied passionately, "But the minute he was kissed, his body just started crumbling away, like ashes!"

"Ashes?" Even kind Kingsley couldn't help looking a little doubtful.

"That's ridiculous!" Dawlish interjected, "The boy is obviously making up stories again."

"Shut it, Dawlish," Tonks growled. But then, turning back to Harry she said: "Seriously, though, Harry. Is this because of what I said about your story not being dramatic enough?"

Harry rolled his eyes. He knew it wasn't a very good story, but it was all he had had time to come up with on the spot. And besides- "I don't see why that's so difficult to believe. I mean, this body wasn't the one he was born in, it was a magically crafted one he made for himself in a really dark ritual. Isn't it possible it was tied somehow to his soul, and the second that was gone the body was no longer held together magically?"

"I suppose so." Kingsley sighed. "But your story would be much easier to confirm if there was a body. The lack of evidence adds a dimension of uncertainty that is quite unfortunate." He concluded in a disapproving voice as if it was Harry's fault that there wasn't a body (which it was, but Kinsley had no way of knowing that).

"Look," Harry sighed. "I know it's not what you were expecting, but why would I lie to you about this? I was the one who insisted he was back when no one else wanted to believe it, and took all the dirt everyone threw at me because it was important to me that people would know the truth. Why would I suddenly make up a story just to make people happy?"

"It's not about that," Kingsley replied. "You've never given anyone a reason to doubt your integrity. But it is possible that Voldemort somehow managed to trick you into thinking you saw something you didn't."

"I don't see what purpose making me think he was dead would serve, since next time he felt angry I would immediately know it wasn't true." Harry tapped his scar. "But you know what? It doesn't matter." He suddenly felt very tired. "Last time the truth eventually came out, and it will this time as well. As soon and the Death Eaters realize that he's gone and that they'd cast their lot on the wrong side, they'll all come running back to the Ministry again, claiming Imperius."

"Very well." McGonagall sighed. "I will take Potter back to the school. He's been through quite a lot tonight, including participating in a ritual and witnessing of the Headmaster's death at the very least."

"Alright." Scrimgeour growled, "But before you leave, Potter, do you have any idea where Severus Snape might be?"

Harry shrugged noncommittally. "Maybe he went looking for me. Maybe he's hiding because he's afraid of being accused of killing Dumbledore. Send him a Patronus or something."

With that, he followed McGonagall back to the school.


Harry was pummeled awake the next morning by Ron hitting him with a pillow.

"You're alive, you pillock!" Ron shouted, jumping on the bed. Harry groaned, and tried to turn over and catch a few more minutes of sleep.

"I'm going to get Hermione!" Ron said, ignoring Harry's moans of protest. "I'll be back in five minutes!"

Fifteen minutes later found Ron re-entering the dormitory with Hermione, a large bruise on his forehead, and cursing the staircase to the girl's dorms energetically.

"What happened, Harry? Did it work? The Daily Prophet will only arrive at seven, and that's still an hour and a half away." Hermione said quickly, and sat down on his bed, staring at him with bated breath.

"You woke me up at five a.m.?" Harry shouted at Ron accusingly.

Dean gave a big snore and began to stir. Harry quickly cast a Muffliato.

"Not five." Ron said, "Five thirty. Besides, if everything has gone according to plan, both Dumbledore and Voldemort died last night. Did you really expect me to calmly wait for you to wake up to find out what happened?"

"Honestly, I expected you to be up and waiting for me when I got back to the dorm," Harry replied.

"Nah, I knew I'd go crazy with worry, just sitting around waiting for you. I had Neville knock me out with a spell."

"Enough of this!" Hermione declared, "We have more important things to discuss. Harry, what happened last night?"

Staring at the earnest expression on Ron's freckled face, and Hermione's finger, around which she was twirling her frizzy hair, the way she always did when she was tense, Harry knew he could tell them the truth. They had believed him about Sirius, they had stood by him when no one had believed him about Voldemort being back, and they would understand his decision now to withhold the full truth about Voldemort.

So Harry told them everything. They listened solemnly to the story of what happened in the cave, and the suffering Dumbledore subjected himself to in order to get to the Horcrux. Then, a new tenseness settled into the air when Harry began talking about the ritual. When Harry told them about Riddle taking control from Voldemort and apparating away, Hermione gave a little gasp, and Ron's freckles stood out vividly against his pale face.

Not wanting to keep them in unnecessary agony, Harry quickly told them about managing to follow Voldemort to Azkaban. And when Harry got to the part when he had realized that Voldemort's soul had been consumed by a dementor, and Riddle's soul was about to follow, though it hadn't quite yet, Hermione already realized where the story was going.

"Oh, Harry, you saved him, didn't you?"

Harry nodded. "I cast a patronus."

"What?!" Ron squawked, "But what if it wasn't Riddle you saved, but You-Know-Who? What if he was faking being eaten by a dementor? What if you did save Riddle, but You-Know-Who's still in there too somehow?"

"Ron," Harry sighed, "they're souls. You can't fake or pretend these kinds of things with souls, it just- I can't explain it, but trust me on this: If you had been there too, you would have also known immediately that Voldemort's soul was already eaten by a dementor, and Riddle's wasn't. Just- trust me."

Ron didn't look completely reassured, but he did nod and allow Harry to continue his story.

Telling them about the half-delirious confessions out of Riddle's mouth after he had been saved seemed to reassure Ron, and by the time Harry told them about lying to the Ministry, both Ron and Hermione were nodding along with him.

"Definitely don't tell them anything they don't need to know," Hermione said, very wisely in Harry's opinion. "They certainly haven't proven themselves to be trustworthy, or capable of good judgment."

"Exactly!" Harry exclaimed, feeling happier with his decision now that he had Hermione's approval.

"You probably did the right thing," Ron conceded as well, "but keep an eye on that mirror of yours, won't you, just to make sure there are no suspicious activities happening on the other side."

"Alright." Harry agreed easily. He had been planning on doing that anyway. "Besides, even if I did end up saving Voldemort, I left him at the Dursleys'. So if Voldemort ends up killing them, aat least one good thing would have come out of this whole situation. "

The joke was in bad taste, but both Ron and Hermione laughed. It was a testament to just how much they hated the Dursleys.

Their conversation was interrupted by Seamus waking up, and the three of them moved downstairs to the common room. Harry adamantly refused to go down to breakfast. He knew that as soon as the Daily Prophet arrived, announcing Dumbledore's death, he would be mobbed with questions, stares, and whispers. Hermione and Ron volunteered to go down and get food to bring up to Harry, and Harry was left alone to try and build a house out of Exploding Snap cards.

He was just considering going back to his dormitory to check if there was anything to see in the mirror, when Hermione and Ron returned, McGonagall in tow.

"Professor?" Harry asked, startled for a moment.

"Come with me please, Potter." She requested. "Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley have my permission to come along as well since I'm aware that you'll tell them everything anyway."

Professor McGonagall didn't lead them to her office, surprisingly, but rather to Dumbledore's office. With a jolt, Harry realized that the Headmaster's office was now hers.

After sitting them down and offering them tea, McGonagall finally explained what the meeting was about. "Potter, you'll be happy to know that I have made contact with Professor Snape and he has confirmed your story up until the point of you apparating away after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"What about after that?" Harry demanded, "Didn't he feel anything when Voldemort was-"

"He told me that he felt a pain in his arm, but that his Dark Mark did not fade the way it did the last time He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was defeated."

That actually made sense. Harry didn't know how the Dark Mark worked but it was quite possible that the fact that Tom Riddle's body hadn't been destroyed the night before meant that the Dark Mark was still active, even if the spirit of Voldemort was gone. Harry couldn't explain that to McGonagall, though, so he said nothing.

Professor McGonagall sighed. "Potter, the Daily Prophet will be arriving within the next hour. Ideally, I would like to make a preemptive statement to the students before they have a chance to read whatever hogwash the Prophet tries to feed them. My problem is that right now I cannot state with full confidence that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named really is dead."

Harry shrugged. "I'm sorry, Professor. If I had any proof I'd love to give it to you."

"But you don't." McGonagall stated shortly, "So this is what I'm going to do instead. I will ask you to think very carefully about the events of last night. Examine every moment of the evening since you left Hogwarts and test yourself to see if there is any moment in which your memory is unclear or blurry. If you can think of no such instance throughout the whole night, and if you can state to me with certainty, knowing that my word and integrity is dependent on it, that you were not Confunded last night and the events you saw really did occur, then I will make the announcement to the school. Can you do that?"

Harry made a show of thinking hard, to show her that he was taking her seriously. When he felt that a sufficient amount of time had passed to lend the necessary gravity to his statement he said: "Yes, I'm sure."

"Very well, then." McGonagall said briskly, "I will trust your word, Potter. See you three at breakfast." With that, they were dismissed.


They parted ways after leaving the Headmaster's office. Ron and Hermione went down to breakfast, while Harry headed back to Gryffindor tower to hide in his bed until some of the drama blew over.

Hermione and Ron returned to the dormitory some twenty minutes later bearing pieces of toast and a copy of the Daily Prophet.

"How bad is it?" Harry asked, eyeing the newspaper warily.

"Not too bad," Ron said comfortingly.

"They dedicated the majority of the front page article to Dumbledore's death," Hermione explained. "It mostly talks about how they found the- the b-body, and how the Aurors found no evidence of foul play. Only towards the end, they mention that you witnessed it and repeat your story. There were some, well, aspersions cast on the state of your sanity. But, Harry, everyone knows better than to believe that drivel, especially after last year when they bullied you all year and you turned out to be right!"

Everyone, as it turned out, did not know better. When Harry gathered the courage to come down for lunch a few hours later, he was greeted by jeers and taunting remarks. Mostly, but not exclusively, from the Slytherin table.

The members of Dumbledore's army, though, seemed to take Harry's side. After they had all crowded around him to confirm that the Daily Prophet had quoted him correctly and that he did in fact claim that Voldemort was dead, he received many pats on the back and smiles from the whole gang. Susan Bones even burst into tears and gave Harry a long hug.

The chaos surrounding Harry caused by both his supporters and detractors soon gave Harry a headache, and finally, Neville suggested that they all move to the Room of Requirement to get some quiet and privacy. Once there, Harry repeated to them in more detail the same story he had told the Aurors, and while not everyone seemed completely convinced, they all listened thoughtfully, which Harry found quite comforting.

The rest of the afternoon was spent lounging around and drinking butterbeer that had been supplied by Dobby. Dobby had popped in to see Harry and had promptly begun bawling into Harry's robes. Knowing how much the elf had idolized the late Headmaster, Harry had done his best to comfort him. That turned out to only be half the issue though. Dobby was also crying out of happiness and relief that Harry was no longer in danger from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. And then out of guilt because he felt he was a bad elf for being happy so soon after Dumbledore's death.

After having spent a few minutes being comforted by Harry and various members of Dumbledore's Army, receiving a few dozen hugs from both Susan and Hannah, and wiping his nose on Justin Finch-Fletchley's monogrammed handkerchief, Dobby had finally calmed. Soon he was taking pleasure in getting Hannah the chocolate cookies she liked and refilling the butterbeer whenever it ran low.

When it was finally time for dinner, Harry felt bolstered by his friends' support and ready to venture back into the Great Hall and deal with the rest of the school. Upon entering, Harry was surprised but not displeased to find that the Slytherin table was completely quiet. There were no jeers or catcalls directed at Harry, and Malfoy seemed to be avoiding his eye. A quiet murmur of whispers rose from the tables as Harry walked through the hall and sat at Gryffindor table. Harry could feel the pressure of dozens of eyes staring at him.

"Dennis!" Harry called out to Collin Creevey's younger brother who was sitting across the table from him, "Did something happen? Everyone seems more, er- quiet."

"Didn't you hear?" Dennis asked excitedly. "Astrid's uncle works for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." He gestured at a tiny first-year Ravenclaw with pigtails. "And he told her that the Department communicated with the dementors to figure out what happened last night, and one of the dementors claims that it ate the soul of You-Know-Who!"

"You're not serious?" Harry asked, not daring to believe his luck.

"Yeah! And no-one's stupid enough to believe that the dementor was just lying for attention, so now everyone's thinking that you were probably telling the truth."

"So it's not enough that Harry, who stuck to his word all of last year despite being denounced and slandered and ended up being proven right, tells them it happened, but the second a dementor confirms it, suddenly it must be true?" Hermione muttered angrily.

"Eh, let it go, Hermione." Ron said placatingly, piling peas onto his plate, "Now at least Harry knows who his real friends are. I'm just glad-" here he glanced around to make sure no one was listening and cast a Muffliato,"I'm just glad the dementor didn't say anything about him getting up and walking away after the kiss, or about there being two souls."

"Well," Hermione replied reasonably, "it's not like dementors can speak English. It's hard enough for the magical translator to get simple messages across, let alone long, elaborate explanations."

"How do dementors communicate with people?" Harry asked curiously, only to regret it moments later when Hermione launched into a complicated explanation involving arithmancy, ancient runes and magical linguistics.

Ron made a long-suffering face behind Hermione's back, and Harry had to keep himself from laughing. In that moment of peace, Harry thought that the reality of Voldemort being dead was finally beginning to set in, and let himself revel in the relief. A moment later, though, he recalled the pale, sunken face of Tom Riddle as Harry had left him, weak and vulnerable, at the Dursleys, and the light-hearted moment was gone.


The next morning's edition of the Daily Prophet contained a statement from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement asserting that they had been able to confirm Harry's story of Voldemort's demise. It also contained three accounts from people who had come forward over the past 24 hour period claiming they had been Imperiused. There was a betting pool going on at the Gryffindor table over how long it would take Malfoy's father to pretend to 'wake up' from the Imperius back in Azkaban, and another pool over how long it would take for him to be exonerated of all crimes.

Stil, there was a general aura of glee in the air, which only intensified as McGonagall allowed them to have the day off in celebration. Several students had obviously paid a visit to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes over the Christmas break, to the effect of a brilliant fireworks display over the Quidditch pitch, contributed to by students of all houses.

Two days later was Dumbledore's funeral, which occurred in Hogwarts. It was attended by quite an eclectic mix of people, which was a testament to Dumbledore's character. Harry had spotted at the funeral Tom, from the leaky cauldron, the barman from The Hog's Head, who Harry didn't know the name of, a vampire, two hags, a mysterious group of people who were all wearing yellow caps, the Minister of Magic, and, much to Harry's fury, Dolores Umbridge. Even the merpeople from the lake came to pay their respects, as did the centaurs from the Forbidden Forest.

Harry found the stuffy and self-important speeches that were made at the funeral distasteful. They sounded like they were written by a person who had read Dumbledore's resumé, rather than actually having met the man himself. Still, there was a lot of mention of the fact that he had fallen while fighting evil and protecting his students, and Harry knew that if there was one thing Dumbledore would want to be remembered by it would be that. Dumbledore would have been happy had he been able to see all the people gathered there for him, celebrating his contribution to the ending of the war, and the thought gave Harry comfort.


The last few weeks of term passed in a blissful haze of relief and celebration, punctuated only by brief bouts of worry about Tom Riddle that Harry was prone to. Every so often, Harry would take a peek at the enchanted mirror in his bedroom to see if he could catch a glimpse of Riddle.

The view in the mirror had changed the very first day after Voldemort was gone, leading Harry to think that it had been moved from wherever Voldemort's previous headquarters had been to storage in Tom Riddle's new place of residence. Since all the mirror showed now was a plain, whitewashed wall, it didn't give Harry much to go on. He tried to push all the unanswered questions to the back of his mind, but they would still pop up occasionally in random moments, such as during the written charms exam at the end of the year.

It was upon leaving this exam, the last one before summer vacation, that Harry was approached by Snape for the first time since the night Dumbledore died.

Having a private conversation with Snape was the last thing Harry wanted to do at the moment when his well-earned vacation finally started, but he hadn't had much choice. He had been walking behind Hermione and Ron, the first of which was analyzing every single question they had been asked while the latter groaned about not wanting to think about it when Snape had appeared from behind them with a terse: "Potter. A word?"

Harry had barely had time to send a desperate look at his friends before he was being dragged into Snape's office and the door locked behind him. Moments later, a small buzzing sound that Harry recognized as the result of a Muffliato spell, ensured that their conversation was private.

"Professor Dumbledore told me something before he died." Snape began unceremoniously. "Perhaps I should have approached you sooner, but I was- unsure" his lip curled at this admittance "about the relevance of this information. However, I have decided to pass it along to you. Sit down, Potter."

Harry complied reluctantly, not liking the idea of Snape towering over him more than he already was.

Snape began pacing up and down in front of Harry, a thoughtful frown on his lips. "Professor Dumbledore had a theory that he told me about before his death. It was unconfirmed, but considering everything else he was right about- well, it would not be wise to discount it. He believed that the night the Dark Lord came for your m- for your parents and then failed to kill you, the killing curse that reflected back at him did more than destroy his body. According to Albus, the Dark Lord's soul, which was already unstable and torn due to rituals he underwent in his youth, was torn up so that a part of it separated from the whole. That piece attached itself to you."

Snape stopped here as if to examine Harry's reaction, but Harry was too surprised to give him anything, so Snape continued his monologue.

"This theory would explain the unique connection that existed between the two of you- the fact that you could sense his emotions, and the visions you received through his eyes. I think it quite likely that this theory is correct. Now, the question that remains is what are the ramifications, if any, of this theory, considering the Dark Lord's encounter with a dementor last month. I do not believe that the part of the Dark Lord that resides in you can harm you once he is gone, but it would not hurt to be cautious. If you feel any pains in your scar, if you have any visions, even if you have a strange dream that you think might be reminiscent of a vision, you must come to me at once. I will make myself available to you even during summer vacation, should the need arise. I trust you understand that this concession of my own privacy and personal time is not to be abused?"

Harry bit back a sarcastic retort about how much he wanted to spend time with Snape over the summer, and simply nodded.

"Very well. In that case, Potter, get out of my sight. I hope not to see you again until September first."

Harry scampered off to find Ron and Hermione.


"So what are you going to do about all this, Harry, now that you know?" Hermione asked curiously after Harry finished telling her and Ron about his meeting with Snape.

"He doesn't have to do anything!" Ron interjected before Harry had a chance to answer, "You-Know-Who's gone, and good riddance too, and I don't think that bit of him in Harry has any power over him. If it did, it would have already tried to possess him, like the Diary Horcrux did to Ginny. Harry's alright."

"So, what?" Hermione snapped, "He just wanders around with a bit of Voldemort in him for the rest of his life? What if this is the first step to having Voldemort possess him like he did to Tom Riddle? We still don't know exactly how he was controlling Riddle, or how it came about, do we really want to take a chance by on Harry's safety?"

Harry's heart fell into his stomach. The thought hadn't occurred to him.

"Nonsense!" Ron argued back, "Clearly what Dumbledore was talking about was Harry being accidentally made into a Horcrux. That's not the same thing as being possessed by an evil spirit of some kind, which is what happened to Tom Riddle."

"We'd never established for sure that that was what had happened to Riddle!" Hermione argued back, her voice becoming shrill, as it always did when she was angry. "It was just a theory. In fact, considering that it was getting kissed by a dementor that freed Riddle, I'm inclined to think that there was more soul magic involved than Dumbledore first suspected! We never knew for sure how this whole thing worked. Do you really want to risk being wrong?"

"Actually, Hermione makes a good point." Harry interrupted before Ron could reply. Ron shot him a betrayed look. "I don't think she's right about the whole me being in danger thing." Harry quickly amended, placating his friend. "I agree with Ron that if it was going to possess me I would have known about it by now. But she's right about the fact that we never really knew what the circumstances were that allowed Voldemort to control Tom Riddle. And if we really want to be sure everything's alright, we need to go to the only person who does know."

"You want to ask Tom Riddle?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded.

"It does make the most sense." Hermione agreed.

"And that way you can keep an eye on him," Ron added. "I know you said that souls can't lie and that you're sure that You-Know-Who got eaten and Riddle didn't, but it couldn't hurt to check in and make sure he isn't up to anything nefarious."

Harry shrugged at that. He was convinced that there was nothing to worry about and that anyone who had seen the two souls would be just as certain as he was, but since they were reaching a conclusion he was happy with he saw no point in arguing. For weeks he had caught himself looking at the mirror in his room wistfully, hoping to catch a glimpse of Riddle. Having an excuse to investigate Riddle's strange situation further and satisfy his curiosity regarding the circumstances that had led to his entrapment, as well as his curiosity about the man himself, was just what Harry wanted.

"We've decided, then?" He asked, "I go ask Riddle what he knows about this whole mess?"

Hermione's frizzy hair bounced as she nodded her agreement. "Yes."

"So, how do we find Riddle?" Ron asked.

Both he and Harry turned to look at Hermione.

She rolled her eyes despairingly. "Honestly, you two are useless without me."


End of chapter. No worries, next chapter will feature Tom :)

As you might be able to tell, I never quite got over the stupid way Voldemort died in the films :p

I appreciate all reviews, from the short and sweet to the long and detailed constructive criticisms!