Tom tried not to snarl as the leader of the Demons grinned cockily at him. He was in one of their larger cities, called Pandema by visitors, but colloquially it was nicknamed The Pit. The large, decaying city lay in the ruins of the first Castle of the Night. It was here more than anywhere else that the mist and darkness so associated with the Midnight Realm lingered. Demons, liking the darkness and feeding off its energy inhabited the cursed place, and over time it was rebuilt. However, the city could never reach the grandeur of what had once been, and had steadily fallen into disrepair over the centuries.

Out of the kingdoms of the Werewolves, Vampyres, Elves, Goblins, Banshees, Veela, and other Dark creatures that had seeked solace within the confines of the Realm, Pandema was the one that Tom hated visiting. Demons were slippery by nature, not unlike Slytherin's. Their wits and cunning made them great allies, but it also made negotiations incredibly draining.

The Demon he was dealing with just now was the worst, and naturally he was their leader. Elected through blood and betrayal of course. Rumour had it that Baal promised Head Chef's Merak his position of Chief Advisor if he arranged for the death of then Lord Hayden the Second. Of course wiping the chef's memory of their conversation and weaving a story in which he prevented a coup won the Demon population over, and he was elected.

This was Tom's first meeting with the new Lord - all were controlled by Alderan in matters concerning the Realm, but had individual rule of their kingdoms. It was clear that Baal was going to be difficult from the moment he had made Tom leave his train outside.

Whilst he never cared how Baal got into power - in fact he rather admired his cunning - he never liked the man upon his first impression. His form was hazy, and the Vampyre Lord knew it was because he was not used to taking on human form. The man's eyes were blood red - eerily similar to his Voldemort disguise - and his black hair gelled back not unlike Draco Malfoy. A white suit only made his pale skin ever paler, and he was leaning nonchalantly on his desk, resting his chin on steepled fingers.

Did this man not realise they were at war?

The room itself was grand, unlike the poverty outside. In here polished mahogany made the floor gleam, the high cathedral ceiling painted with images from Demon history. Tapestries outlined their great battles with their Light brothers, and thick, burgundy curtains covered the great window that looked out onto the streets below. The only hint of light in the room was from the crystal chandelier and a fireplace next to Baal's desk. The way the light cast shadows on his face only hinted more at the black, shapeless form beneath the shade.

"Lord Riddle, it is a pleasant surprise to see you grace this corner of the kingdom. Please, take a seat," said Baal smoothly, gesturing to the rather uncomfortable looking chair in front of his desk.

If he thought he was stupid enough to uneven the power between them by having Tom sit whilst he remained standing, then this would be a relatively short meeting.

"I'll stand, but thank you for the offer," replied Tom politely. Baal gave a slight nod, his eyes narrowing.

"It has came to my attention that you have been travelling amongst the other kingdoms as well. May I ask what is the purpose of your visit?" The Demon Lord had a look of polite curiosity on his face, but Tom could hear the danger beneath his words.

"We have received word that the Light are preparing to strike against us. They are growing desperate, new ideologies have been more accepting for the Dark, and they seek to maintain their hold on the Wizarding World as long as they can. Attacking now whilst they still have some power is the most logical course of action, and our spies have detected increased activity within their Realm to back this up," said Tom smoothly.

"We have heard the same reports from our allies. However, could this not just be a reaction to your apprentice?"

"Pray tell how you know of him," ordered Tom coldly. Harry's presence had only been known to those in the Castle of the Night, and even then just personnel close to both himself and Alderan.

"Demons were born in the shadows," came the cryptic reply, and Baal smiled cockily at him, raising his eyes as if in a challenge.

"Spying on your allies, is that not a little paranoid Lord Baal?" asked Tom tauntingly.

"Think of it what you will, I only feel that Demons have been left in the dark - excuse the pun - too long," said the Demon Lord.

"Then consider this your enlightenment," hissed Tom, his blood boiling at the blatant show of mistrust, "If you spread the word about my apprentice I will personally see to it that Pandema is wiped off the map. Again."

"And how do you think threatening me will ensure my co-operation to provide troops and resources?" asked Baal mockingly.

"Oh, I do not need to threaten you to ensure that," said Tom deviously, "I believe you are aware of the Treaty of the Clans?" Baal's face paled slightly, almost becoming translucent, "Ah yes, your reaction tells me that you are. Nonetheless, let me refresh your memory of Paragraph 18, Section 6: If a registered member of the Confederation of Dark Creatures refuses to answer a Summons by the Lord of the Realm, or refuse aid in any way in a time of need, then that member and the species of that member will henceforth be banished from the Realm until they are deemed to be worthy of protection once more."

"You do not need to remind me, Lord Riddle," said Baal, his tone even although his eyes sparkled with anger.

"I am here only to tell you to prepare. I could have sent forth a courier, however, since we ask so much of you," Tom looked at the Demon Lord disdainfully, "Then Alderan felt it best to send me. He also felt it best to send me if there were any… Complications." Tom ended on a hiss, his eyes flashing red.

Baal evidently got the message, "I shall inform Commander Valis to prepare as many men as possible. Is there a deadline in mind?"

"You have until the end of the week. Be happy I never made it shorter considering your lack of cooperation. There are matters I need to attend to elsewhere now, and so myself and party shall be taking our leave. Inform the guards at the main gate," ordered Tom, nodding at Baal, and swiftly leaving the chamber.

Once outside, he nodded once more at his party of two vampyres and an elf - Alderan insisted he bring them for security, the unpredictability of Demons was famous - to indicate he was successful and that they could leave.

However, when he was heading through the gates in the Castle of the Night, he felt an irrational burst of anger explode within his chest, followed by despair and anguish. Leaning against a tree for a moment, he signalled for his party to continue on through the threshold. As soon as they passed through the gates, his carefully constructed expression crumbled. There was only one place that level of emotion could have came from.

Harry.

Not a moment later he had Phased again.

If Harry had been nervous seeing Dumbledore the first time, it was nothing compared to now. He had said goodbye to his friends in the Common Room, Ron and Hermione's worried glances doing nothing to ease his anxiety. Sitting across from the Headmaster, the old man's eyes twinkled in a way that Harry used to think was cool. Now it just irritated him.

"Harry, I hope you've had an enjoyable week at school?" Harry wanted to roll his eyes. Why couldn't Dumbledore just tell him why he was here?

"Yes, thanks, Sir," muttered Harry, letting a look of impatience flit across his face, "Er, I was under the impression we would be having lessons?" Harry looked around. The office hadn't changed from last time. It was still cluttered with whirring silver instruments, some of which he recognised from having destroyed last year. The portraits were all sleeping - Dippet even had a night hat on! Nothing indicated they were having a lesson, and he felt his unease grow.

"Yes, no doubt you have been wondering what we will be doing in these - for want of a better word - lessons?"

"Yes, Sir," said Harry. 'Get to the point!'

"After our discussion last year, I decided it was time for your to be given certain information about Voldemort. Information that may help aid his downfall," said Dumbledore.

"You said last year that you told me everything," Harry couldn't keep the accusatory tone from his voice.

"And so I did," said Dumbledore calmly, "From this point onwards we shall be entering a world of mere speculation and educated guess work. However, I believe my conclusions are sound, but even a small margin of error could be fatal."

'Great. So we're fishing in the dark.'thought Harry. Whilst he was glad that Dumbledore wasn't going to kill him, he would have thought he would be a little more impressive than just guesswork.

"Does this have anything to do with the prophecy?" asked Harry hesitantly. After seeing Bella give her prophecies, he knew now the one he had heard last year was true, but, whilst difficult, he was trying to act as if he hadn't met Tom, and he was still on the Light side. Given Dumbledore's pleased look, he thought he was doing a good job.

"This has a great deal to do with the prophecy, Harry," said Dumbledore, getting up from behind his desk, and moving to one of the many cabinets aligning the walls. Moments later he opened one and withdrew a Pensieve. Placing the stone basing with odd markings on the desk in front of him, Dumbledore went back to the cabinet, this time returning with three crystal phials.

"You see, Harry. To defeat ones enemy one has to know him intimately. In these phials are memories from Voldemort's youth. In them they contain many clues about the man he is today, and whilst containing clues, they also hint at his weaknesses," Dumbledore poured one of the phials into the basin, "Shall we?"

Nodding, Harry leaned forward, tipping his face lightly into the mixture that was neither liquid or gas. It felt wrong to turn his back on Dumbledore like this, but moments later he felt his feet leave the office floor, and he fell through the darkness.

He landed in a room that had most certainly seen better days. It was small, black fabric hanging loosely from the window, allowing in snatches of daylight. Mismatched furniture decorated the tiny room, making it look part office part sitting room - the only indication of it being the former was the desk that was buried under so much paper that Harry was surprised the rickety legs hadn't given out.

Feeling Dumbledore land next to him, he focused more on the occupants of the room. A woman was sitting on one side of the desk. She was skinny and looked permanently stressed. Brown hair was coming loose from a messy bun, and her apron was wrinkled as if she hadn't had time to iron it. Sitting opposite her was a younger Dumbledore. His hair, instead of silver, was auburn, and he wore a plum velvet suit that clashed magnificently with his surroundings.

"Mrs Cole, I am here to discuss the future of one of your charges. Mr Thomas Riddle," said Dumbledore.

"Are you family?" asked Mrs Cole, looking slightly more harassed at Dumbledore's eccentric appearance, her eyes squinting slightly as she tried to find some hint of a resemblence.

"No, I am a teacher, and I wish to offer Mr Riddle a place at my school."

Instead of looking relieved, Mrs Cole looked even more suspicious, "What school is this, then?"

"It's called Hogwarts," replied Dumbledore smoothly.

"I see," Mrs Cole's eyes flitted to her paperwork for a moment before asking, "And why are you interested in Tom?"

"Both myself and the Board of Govenors believe he has the qualities we are looking for," replied Dumbledore.

"Has he won a scholarship? He's never been entered for one," Mrs Cole's face was a mask of confusion.

"His name has been down for our school since birth," said Dumbledore, and Harry could see he was frustrated with how sharp the woman opposite him was being. Sure enough, without her realising, Dumbledore slipped his wand out of his pocket, picking up a piece of blank paper from the mess that was the desk. "This should clear everything up."

With unfocused eyes Mrs Cole read the paper, coming to the end, she said, "Well everything seems to be in perfect order." Her eyes fell on a bottle of gin and two glasses that Harry was certain hadn't been present earlier. She offered Dumbledore a glass, pouring them both a generous measure.

"I was wondering if you could tell me anything of Tom Riddle's history? I believe he was born here in the Orphanage?" asked Dumbledore, once a more comfortable atmosphere had settled, and Mrs Cole had drank her way through more than a few measures of gin.

It was as if this question opened a floodgate. Through the next half an hour Harry learned of Tom's mother. It seemed she had staggered in on New Year's Eve and had been taken in. An hour later she had had Tom, before dying not even another hour after his birth. From what Harry gathered his father had abandoned them, and yet Merope still wanted their son to bear his name.

It was unlikely that any child born in this manner would grow up to be uncomplicated. It appeared Tom had bullied the other children, mastering his magic at an early stage. However, there were moments that Harry thought he saw glitches. Only small things, like Mrs Cole abruptly moving onto another topic. Normally it wouldn't be noticeable, but Harry had been hanging onto her every word, and her speech pattern never permitted the change. Although it was when they went up to Tom's room, that he was sure the memory had been tampered with.

Even at eleven Tom was handsome. His face was slightly less pale than it was now, and his hair short, but Harry apart from that there wasn't much difference from the adult, Vampyre version.

"How do you do, Tom?" asked Dumbledore, holding out his hand. Tom only hesitated a moment before taking it. "I am Professor Dumbledore. I work at a school called Hogwarts and have come to offer you a place with us."

"You can't kid me, I know you're from the asylum. Mrs Cole's always wanted rid of me…" Tom was working himself up into a frenzy, but Harry wasn't paying attention, he was mainly looking at the red bands on Tom's wrists. The skin had been rubbed raw at one time, and it was clear this was scar tissue. He was aware the older Dumbledore was watching him, and then schooled his features.

Dumbledore tried once again to get Tom to calm down, "I am not from the asylum. I am a teacher. If you will sit down, I shall tell you about Hogwarts. If you do not wish to come, no one will force you."

"I'd like to see them try," sneered Tom, and Harry tried not to draw similarities to Malfoy.

"Hogwarts is a school for people with special abilities-"

"I am NOT mad!" yelled Tom, his face contorting in cold fury.

"Hogwarts is not a school for mad people, it is a school of magic." At the word 'magic' Tom froze.

Tom smiled slightly, and slowly as Dumbledore explained, he grew more relaxed.

"I always knew I was different," Tom's voice was shaking, "I always knew I was special, not cursed like they thought." The hatred on the word 'they' was unmistakable.

After Dumbledore explained a few more things to Tom about Hogwarts - Tom vehemently refused Dumbledore's help finding Diagon Alley - Harry felt the older Dumbledore tug on his arm, and the scene started to fade, Dumbledore's office reappearing before his eyes.

Harry hadn't been paying attention at the last part of the memory, however. His mind had been lingering on the scars and Tom's words. Thinking about what he knew of the time period, he felt his stomach drop and anger flood his chest at his realisation.

A/N: Thank you for the feedback! I was overjoyed to see so many reviews! I'm sorry I had to cut it here, the chapter was just getting too long, but I assure you, you'll get your answers in the next one - If you can't guess already! There will be at least one more memory shown in the next chapter, and the reason for Harry's strong emotions that Tom felt in the first half of this chapter will be revealed as well.

You'll recognise dialogue from The Half-Blood Prince, but I've altered quite a lot of it too.

This chapter, whilst looking at Tom's back story from Dumbledore's POV was also trying to make the Midnight Realm more 3D.

Summary:

Each species of Dark creature has a kingdom. One official is selected from each kingdom to rule over it's individual affairs by the public. Alderan's role is to oversee this, and in matters concerning the whole Realm, then the Lords or Ladies defer to him. If power is being abused he has the right to depose the ruler and conduct a new election, however, this is only done in situations where the public themselves have been powerless to stop the tyrant and requested aid, or the situation is too bad to ignore.

I hope that makes more sense about the procedures in the Realm. And there will be more of Tom's past in the next chapter, along with Harry's realisation.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.