Extended Summary

Voldemort's attempt to find out the contents of the Prophecy at the Ministry was successful. However, upon hearing it he decided to interpret it in a very different way to Dumbledore.

Caught up between two warring Wizarding World factions Harry has to make a horrible choice between his friends and the magical community. But with Voldemort growing ever stronger and the Wizarding World ever weaker, the decision he makes will have a greater impact than even he knows.

Rated T for dark themes/ horror scenes.

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Chapter Two

Harry did not know where he was.

He was in a city - of that he was certain. How he got there he did not know - the last thing he remembered was Voldemort's triumphant words and his Godfather's death.

Sirius.

His eyes would've filled with tears as he thought of his lost Godfather, yet he seemed to be frozen in place. Unable to mourn outwardly he did so inwardly instead, his heart breaking at the thought of never again seeing the man who had been the closest father figure to him.

As he was pining for his Godfather his head snapped round, as if of his own accord He saw that he was standing in a turfed-up Garden outside a monstrosity of a house - an imposing three story high concrete structure. Squinting he read the sign above the house's entrance: 'Wool's Orphanage, London' it read.

His mind turning rapidly he realised that this must be a dream - how else would he be in an orphanage?

Beginning to relax, he found that he was now able to move. Slightly weirded-out by the strangeness of this dream he pinched himself in hope that he'd wake up, only to wince in pain when he did not. At this point he began to panic; if this was real, how would he get back to Hogwarts?

A soft voice came to his attention and he strained his ears, hoping to work out where it came from. As the words became more auditable he noticed they had a subtle hiss to them and in a lightbulb moment he realised that he was listening to parseltongue.

His arm reached down and he could barely contain his shock as he struggled against the movement, once again confined to his mind; unable to move or control his body.

The parseltongue because clearer and his was soon able to make out words. "Mussst find food, mussst find ssshelter" it hissed. Spotting a small grass snake only two metres in front of him Harry felt his mouth open as he moved forwards, words tumbling out that were not spoken by him - words spoken with a different, childish voice.

"I can help you" he heard the voice say and he watched as the snake's head snapped towards him.

"How?" it replied distrustfully. Yet there was a small barely detectable note of hope in its question.

"If you can teach me about this.. sssnake ssspeaking ability and help me work out how I can do this-" here Harry found his hands reaching forwards as with surprising ease he conjured a small light orb between them. "-I would be happy to aid you in whatever assssistance you would require".

The snake seemed to consider this a moment. "You ssspeak the tongue and act older than your age - who are you really?"

"I have no parentsss. But my name's Tom Riddle."

Trapped inside his mind unable to do anything Harry could do little more than internally scream at the horror of being forced into the young body of his Nemesis. Trying to calm himself he repeated the truth over and over again to himself.

'I am Harry Potter'

'I am Harry Potter'

'I am Harry-"

"HARRY POTTER!"

Harry's eyes snapped open and he came face to face with Dumbledore. Recoiling backwards in shock he froze, stunned, as he realised that he back in his own body and could once again move of his own free will. Standing up, he turned his hands over and stared down at them in wonder, before his eyes flickered to Dumbledore's.

A brief flash of pain was soon replaced by an expression of worry as Dumbledore surveyed him closely. Slightly disconcerted by this Harry took the opportunity to look round, eyes widening as he realised that they were still in the main Ministry of Magic atrium.

And they weren't alone.

"Harry, thank goodness!"

He rolled his eyes as Fudge frantically made his way towards him, a fatherly furrow in his brow. Harry wasn't convinced in the least by this acting - he still had many bitter memories of his treatment the past year by the Daily Prophet and more notably Fudge himself.

"Are you alright? Did Voldemort hurt you?" Fudge clucked like a mother hen, reaching up a hand to place it on Harry's shoulder while slyly glancing back towards the newly-arrived reporters. Harry shrugged his hand off roughly; he had no desire to participate in Fudge's theatrics.

Thankfully Dumbledore seemed to be in the same mood as he, for he sent Fudge a sharp glance before steering Harry away from the crowd and reaching into his pocket, withdrawing a sherbet lemon. Harry stared at it curiously and with a subdued twinkle in his eye Dumbledore explained 'it's a Portkey Harry'.

The understanding took just a moment to kick in and without hesitation harry placed him hand on top of Dumbledore's. His stomach lurched sharply with the jolting motion of the Portkey and he was grateful to let go of it when he reached the other end - Dumbledore's office.

Face to face with Phineus Nigellis Black's portrait.

He stumbled backwards as if he'd been stung, his eyes never leaving the portrait. There were many differences between Sirius and his Ancestors' looks, yet the family characters shone through with both of them - a painful reminder that Sirius was dead.

The first tear began to fall and he remained lost in thought for several minutes. When he came round Phineus had left the portrait - presumably tired of being stared at.

Harry remembered that he was not alone.

With no small amount of effort he turned round, to find Dumbledore watching ambiviently, his usually bright eyes dimmed from the aftermath of the day's events. A great well of fury rose up in Harry as he recounted the prophecy's words - a death sentence that the headmaster had kept from him for years.

His voice dangerously low Harry asked "why didn't you tell me?"

With unshed tears in his eyes and his head dipped Dumbledore replied "I cared too much about you, Harry. I'm sorry."

"SORRY? YOU IGNORED ME THE WHOLE YEAR AND NOW YOU'RE SORRY?"

Harry knew that his anger was irrational but in his grief he lashed out. In a slightly calmer voice he said "Sirius could've lived if it weren't for me".

Dumbledore's shook his head and stepped forwards, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "The blame is not yours; it's mine" he said heavily. "If I had trusted and helped you earlier on Sirius would still be here."

He began to pace the length of his study.

"The Ministry saw Tom today - it's only a matter of time before the entirety of the wizarding world finds out that he's back. He'll be planning something-"

He broke off and stopped in his tracks. Harry waited with bated breath for his next words.

Twisting round Dumbledore looked at Harry. "What did Voldemort say to you?" Harry made to reply, but the words were lodged in his throat as he recalled Voldemort's strange words. "He just wanted to gloat" he muttered evasively, unsure as to why he was hiding the truth from his headmaster.

Dumbledore's eyes sharpened but he neglected to comment on Harry's lack of information. He stared intensely at Harry for a moment before moving away to the other side of the room. "You have evaded him yet again" he murmured pensively. "Tom will see that as a personal affront - more than ever before he'll target you. He'll stop at nothing to eliminate you as a threat."

His piercing gaze met Harry's as wearily he sunk down into a large armchair. "Your mother left a strong protection on you when she died - love. It stopped Voldemort from touching you in first year and keeps you safe in the summer holidays."

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion and he almost asked Dumbledore what he meant before he realised that the elderly wizard had not yet finished.

Dumbledore peered at Harry from over the top of his half-moon spectacles, his usually cheerful face somber. "As long as you remain with your Aunt and call her house Home, you are protected.

"I must insist you return there immediately - your safety is paramount" he announced grimly.

Harry wanted to argue - truly, he did. He hated the place that he'd grown up in with a vengeance and the people there weren't very far off scoring the same reaction. The idea of returning to his Aunt, Uncle and Cousin filled him with dread, as he knew that this summer - as with every summer - the bullying would increase. As the years passed Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon grew more afraid of his 'freaky' powers and ordered Dudley to 'beat' them out of him - a task that Dudley and his friends took to with relish.

Yet despite this he knew that Dumbledore spoke sense - remaining at Privet Drive would prevent Voldemort finding him. His friends' safety would increase from not having him around and they'd be able to relax without the extra security he'd be otherwise forced to endure. His anger all but gone he mutely nodded, not trusting himself to speak lest he change his mind.

Dumbledore's eyes softened with regret and he pointed his wand at another Sherbet Lemon. "Portus" he murmured and the sweet briefly glowed.

Harry reached out to take it, preparing himself for the unpleasant sensation that accompanied travel by Portkey. As he felt the familiar tug in his stomach he heard Dumbledore whisper "it's only for a couple of months."

The next thing Harry saw was the inside of the Kitchen of number 4 Privet Drive.

The next thing he heard was Aunt Petunia's horrified scream.