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X
Harry let the stuffed animal slip from his fingers as the grip around him loosened.
He jumped up and span around so fast that he almost tumbled over, saved by a strong hand holding him up.
"You finally came back to me, Tom," Harry whispered, heart beating heavily as Tom guided him off the bed fully, making them stand just inches apart.
"Of course I've returned for you; I don't make promises I can't keep," Tom muttered, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards slightly.
Tom didn't look much different to how Harry had seen him in the Chamber of Secrets. He looked older, which was to be expected after three years, but he still had the same handsome, chiseled features, thick brown, fluffy hair and dark eyes, though they seemed to have a red tint to them. Harry had grown a lot since he was twelve, but Tom still had about four inches on him.
"What took you so long?" Harry asked, keeping his voice low in case his parents overheard him. Tom seemed to know what he was thinking.
"I've placed undetectable Silencing Charms around your room," Tom told him. "We have much to discuss and it is preferable we aren't overheard, though judging from the state of your father, I don't suppose he would notice without the charm."
Harry frowned; he knew Tom wasn't exaggerating with the comment about his dad, but hearing somebody say it aloud seemed to make the situation more real.
Tom pushed Harry down onto his bed, before taking a seat beside him.
"We're both ready now," Tom said, answering his question at last. "I have completed what I needed to do, and you're sixteen now; the age I was when we first met. You're too old to be considered a child, yet too young to be considered an adult by the world, but I know what you are capable of."
"I didn't think you aged," Harry stated, looking intently at Tom. He was overjoyed that he was finally back with him, but he had so many questions to ask.
"My diary form did not age, but the magic I used to leave enables me to live as a normal wizard," Tom explained, and Harry nodded.
"Why didn't I die?" the Gryffindor asked, trying to get as much out as he could. "You said I had to, but then I didn't."
"I'm afraid I can't tell you Harry; purely because I do not understand the magic fully myself and I don't wish to mislead you in any way. I can tell you, however, that the magic has brought us closer together in ways which you cannot imagine. You are rather important to me now, Harry."
The answer was rather vague, but any questions he had on the topic seemed to disappear as he filled with happiness at Tom's words. In a flash he flung his arms around the older boy's neck, burying his face into Tom's shoulder. Tom gently placed a hand on the upper part of Harry's back in a comforting manner.
"I'm just glad to have you back," Harry mumbled into Tom's shirt.
"Harry, I'm sure you remember what you promised me from the beginning; when you said you would do anything for me?" Tom said clearly, tipping Harry's chin upwards so they could make eye contact. Harry nodded slowly. "Now, I believe it is only fair to give you a choice, much like everyone else. Does it bother you to know that I am effectively the one you know as Lord Voldemort?"
Harry felt a chill run through him at those words, and he was sure Tom must be joking.
"You don't look anything like him though" he stated dumbly; he had seen images of the evil wizard in the Daily Prophet, and he could see no resemblance. Tom simply fixed him with a warning look.
"I said effectively. When the Dark Lord was sixteen, he created the diary and preserved a memory of himself inside it. Now that I have been freed from the confines of the diary, I am able to work alongside the man who is simply an older version of me."
Harry removed his hold of Tom, his mind racing. It certainly explained the red gleam in Tom's eyes, which seemed to be more prominent than ever now. He wasn't quite sure what to think; Voldemort may be evil, but Tom had never really harmed Harry. Besides, Tom was put inside the diary at the age of sixteen, surely too young to have done anything bad, and he couldn't presume he had done anything since he was freed either. Tom and Voldemort may be the same man deep down, yet they were both their own person.
"I shan't kill you if you tell me you have changed your mind," Tom added, likely as an incentive to get a quicker answer. "I shall simply erase every memory you have of me."
Harry shuddered at the thought of forgetting Tom, and that told him his decision.
"I'll accept you, no matter who you are," he affirmed, wrapping his arms back around Tom, though he could still feel fear racing through him.
"So you'll do what I ask of you?" the older boy asked, his smirk filtering through to his words.
Harry hesitated for just a moment before answering. "I-I don't know. I don't want to be a Death Eater. I don't want to torture or kill anybody; I can't do that." He looked at Tom, hoping to show seriousness in his eyes
"Of course not," Tom said, another smirk forming on his face. "I believe it will be beneficial for everyone, including yourself, if you offer your assistance regarding Neville Longbottom."
"Neville Longbottom?" Harry repeated slowly. Sure he hated the boy, but he didn't know if he could bring himself to cause him pain. As that doubt crept through his mind, he had a sudden flash of himself standing above a screaming Neville, and the pleasure he got from the image scared him.
"I know you hate him, Harry; you have every right to. I was there on the night The Dark Lord returned; I watched as Longbottom cowardly allowed the other boy to die. I saw how he fearfully fled fighting Bellatrix Lestrange at the Ministry of Magic, leading to the death of your Godfather. He is weak and doesn't stand a chance, and thus when the Dark Lord wins, you shall be treated with great respect for your assistance, if that is what you choose to do," Tom expanded, speaking with complete confidence.
Harry had known Neville was too scared to face Bellatrix, but he wasn't aware the same thing had happened regarding Cedric's death. Longbottom was no Gryffindor; Harry hadn't had much opportunity to show his courage, but he knew he certainly had more than the Boy Who Lived. The Sorting Hat had told him that he had Slytherin traits as well, and Harry guessed that he'd need to get in touch with that side of him of he wanted to help Tom. In fact, he did want to help Tom; he had never been anything but nice to him, no matter how evil his other self was, while Neville had only ever caused him misery and grief. Plus, seeing as the probability was that Neville would ultimately be killed by Voldemort, he figured it would be better in order to keep his remaining family safe.
"What do you need me to do?" Harry asked, happiness coursing through him as Tom smiled.
"You'll find out in time, Harry. For now, you need rest," the dark wizard answered.
"I'm not tired though," Harry lied. In truth, he wanted to stay awake and talk to Tom, and he was slightly concerned that he was going to wake up tomorrow and not see Tom for another three years.
"I shall return tomorrow," Tom stated. Harry wondered if that comment was a coincidence or not.
"You can't read my mind, can you?" Harry asked, laughing awkwardly. Tom simply smirked but didn't respond, so Harry made a mental note to keep his thoughts clean around Tom, just in case.
Tom pushed Harry gently backwards until his head reached the pillow, and a strong sense of tiredness washed over Harry. He was asleep before he knew it.
X
Harry awoke the next morning to what sounded like somebody trying to bash down his bedroom door.
"Is everything okay, Harry?" he heard his mother shout, worry lacing her voice.
Harry glanced around the room and noticed Tom wasn't there. He sighed and called out to allow his mother in.
"Is anything wrong?" Lily asked as she stepped through the door, watching Harry wearily from where he was sat in bed, still blinking sleep from his eyes.
"I was just sleeping," he told her.
"It's not like you to sleep so late," the redhead mused, giving Harry a suspicious look. In the end she sighed and decided to drop the topic. "Well, I want you to get out of bed now; your Dad and I are going out, so you need to be ready. We can either leave you with the Weasley's or Severus; it's up to you but can you make a decision quickly so-"
"No!" Harry protested. "Can't I just stay here on my own? All the wards are still up. "He clambered out of bed, realising he was still wearing the clothes he had been in yesterday.
Lily looked at him as if he was stupid. "Of course you can't. What if someone got in? Stop being petty, get changed and make a decision."
"But I don't want to see Snape or Heather, and isn't there like nine of the Weasley's? I don't want to be around that many people I don't know."
"Harry, you need to get over your issues of talking to people," Lily sighed.
"I don't have issues; I'm just shy," he hissed, and his mother shook her head.
"You're not just shy, Harry. You're bordering on social anxiety. Perhaps being with Molly and her family will be good for you."
"No. I don't want to go. Where are you and Dad going anyway? Are you really going to be that long?" He huffed and folded his arms.
Lily looked unsure for a moment, like she was debating whether to tell Harry or not, but then James popped his head round the door, hair messier than usual and eyes bloodshot.
"We're going to get me some help, son," James announced, ignoring Lily's glare. Harry smiled at the thought of his father finally trying to get his problem sorted. "Lily, I think we can leave Harry here alone while we're gone."
Lily turned to her husband with blazing eyes. "What? Anything could happen. How would we feel then?"
"He's sixteen; he can be trusted," James argued back, making Lily scowl.
"It's not that I don't trust Harry; it's them who I don't trust. Don't make me out to be the horrible parent here, James."
"We have so many precautions on this house; Harry will be fine. You let Heather go live with Snape; that's hardly different, considering who he spends his time with."
"Severus can be trusted," Lily spat, defensive of her friend. "I trust him, as does Dumbledore."
"Remember a guy named Peter who we all used to trust? Look what happened with him."
"Who's Peter? What happened with him?" Harry interrupted. His parents had mentioned the man a few times over the years, and each time they would refuse to answer him and change the subject.
"Fine; stay here then" Lily exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air in defeat. She gave Harry a look which clearly stated 'I'm giving you this, so don't ask about Peter again'. "You are to keep the emergency Portkey on you at all times; you twist the top and it will instantly transport you to The Weasley's. You use it if the wards alert you that there's an intruder and you use it if you hear a noise in the house. You will use it even if you feel uneasy for no reason and you will not go to investigate anything strange. You are only permitted to use magic if somebody finds you first. You will not answer the door to anybody and you will not leave this house. When your father and I return, we will use the words 'red scarf' to let you know that it's us. If I find out you've broken any of these rules and somehow come out unscathed, then so help me, you will spend the rest of your summer wishing you were locked in Azkaban."
Harry nodded to each of his mother's rules, with no doubt in his mind that she wouldn't hold true to her threat if she caught him out on something.
The woman frowned at Harry's reaction and pulled him into an uncomfortable embrace. "Oh sweetheart, I'm only being like this because I love you. I don't think I could cope if anything happened to you. It's hard enough Heather just being out of the house, but if-"Lily started before pausing to compose herself, wiping at her eyes violently. "Just be careful, alright?"
Harry nodded and gave Lily the big eyes and bright smile look he knew always melted her heart. "I'll be fine, Mum. I hope everything goes okay with you today, Dad."
His parents nodded, Lily giving him one last hug, before they flooed out, leaving Harry in the house alone.
X
Harry had been by himself for an hour. He had showered and changed into fresh clothes, glanced at his homework and decided to do it another time, tried to read a bit of a muggle book, played some random tunes on Lily's piano, and was now just sat mindlessly on his bed, bouncing a ball off the wall. He was too focused on whether Tom would return or not to do much else. A small part of him wondered if he had imagined their meeting.
He jumped out of his skin as Tom seemed to appear out of nowhere, catching the ball in his fist as Harry threw it.
"I'm surprised you didn't try out for the Quidditch team. I'd expect you'd have been good as either a Seeker or a Keeper," the dark wizard stated.
"I don't want to play Quidditch. Too many people watch, and I'd be no good" Harry murmured, instinctively catching the ball Tom threw his way before it could hit him in the face.
"Hmm, I see. You doubt your abilities too much, Harry. It is a wise skill to learn to embrace your abilities; not so much in sports, but in all aspects of your life. There is something deep inside of you which is so much better than those around you. You need to open yourself to it."
"You really think so?" Harry asked, beaming at Tom.
"I know so," the older boy replied. "Would you care to join me for a walk outside?"
"I don't know; my mum was pretty clear that I wasn't allowed out, and knowing her she's put some charm up to know if I obeyed her or not," Harry said with a frown; he didn't like the feeling of saying no to Tom.
The other boy simply smirked however. "You are quite right; she did have a charm up, a rather impressive one at that. Unfortunately for her, I know the counter curse. You shall be indoors and the charm in place before she is back, and she will never know a thing."
He opened the door and motioned for Harry to leave. The Gryffindor thought about whether or not he should for just a second before he jumped up and left his room. He trusted Tom not to get him in trouble.
"Is that how you've been getting in the house then? Knowing the counter curses?" Harry asked intrigued. He wondered whether or not he ought to point out to his parents that they had flaws in their system.
"Oh no; your home's protection is some of the best I've seen. It appears your mother is a dab hand at Charms work; surprising considering her blood."
Harry frowned but didn't comment on what Tom had said; he wanted the man to know he would stick by him, even if they did differ in some beliefs and values.
"How do you get in then?" he asked instead.
"That is due to you, Harry. You see, when you opened yourself to me in the Chamber, it created a magical connection between us; as the wards on your home allow you in, they also allow me in," Tom told him.
"So, that's sort of like having to invite a vampire into your home before they can enter," Harry muttered thoughtfully, almost walking into the other boy when he froze suddenly and turned around with a dark expression on his face. Harry was half expecting to be cursed.
"That is nonsense muggle mythology. You need to learn better than to speak of such things," came his warning instead.
They walked outside and into the wooded area by Harry's home. The teenager wondered if it was stupid to go to a secluded area with a man whose other half was a mass murdering sociopath.
"What are you thinking?" Tom asked Harry once they were shaded by the large trees.
"Just that it concerns me a little bit, that the older version of you went on to become one of the Darkest Wizard's in history, yet I'm not all that worried being alone with you in the woods."
"Have I ever given you reason not to trust me?" Tom pointed out, and Harry shook his head. "Good. If I had wanted to kill you, I could have done so at any point. As it stands, I wish that no harm comes to you, by my hand or others. Thus why I wanted to talk to you in the calming atmosphere of the trees; I often wondered how you were getting on without my support at Hogwarts. I know that when I left you were having difficulties with the other students."
Harry nodded sombrely. "It never really got any better. I felt so lost without having you to talk to, especially at first, and each year the other students got nastier," Harry admitted, taking a couple of steps until he was right by Tom's side.
"How so?" the boy enquired, a hint of anger in his voice.
"My sister joined school in my third year, and she's really popular. I had an argument with her one day, and since then, instead of ignoring me, people would call me names; saying things like I was worthless and weird. I guess I should be grateful that it never got physical," Harry said quietly, staring into the ground. "I had Luna to talk to though; she was a big help, er, not that we're friends or anything," Harry added, hastily trying to laugh his way through his mistake; it had been Tom who told him to stay away from her.
"When you say you aren't friends, does that mean you're romantically involved with this girl?" Tom asked almost bitterly.
Harry laughed nervously again. "Oh, no. I mean, not that Luna's not worthy of me or anything, it's more that, well, some of the names the older students called me ended up being true."
"What word was that?"
Harry hesitated before remembering he used to be able to tell Tom anything, and that shouldn't have changed. "Queer, gayboy, faggot; all rather derogatory and said with utter disgust, but I've accepted that that's who I am now, for the most part at least."
"There's nothing wrong with being homosexual, especially not by Pureblood society standards," Tom muttered. Harry turned to look at him, shocked when he saw that his eyes were almost fully red. The other boy shook his head and they began fading back into their normal dark brown colour.
"Have you ever dated?" Tom continued, and Harry shrugged.
"I guess; maybe. I didn't love him or anything, and I think he was more into it than I was. I just liked…something about it," Harry mumbled, refusing to make eye contact with Tom. He wasn't going to tell him that he used Cedric in order to see him, as the chances were he would sound obsessive. Truth be told, he did feel like he had been a bit obsessive, which was probably was he cared so deeply about Tom now. "Have you ever been in love?"
He slammed his hand over his mouth with the look Tom gave him. Even angry, he thought Tom was the most handsome man he had ever seen. He was better in flesh than he had been in any of Harry's memories and fantasies.
"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to pry," Harry apologised, wringing his hands together in a nervous fashion.
Tom smirked, blowing a piece of hair away from his eye. "No, I haven't," he answered finally. "I don't tend to like the company of people, and I have only ever found one person who I would deem attractive, though I personally do not understand why they are not in a relationship, when they are clearly the most beautiful person on the planet."
Harry tried to pretend that those words hadn't hurt him. "Does that person know that?"
"Perhaps," Tom said with another smirk. He brushed a stand of Harry's hair away from his face and tucked it behind his ear. "It is doubtful however. I believe we should be heading back to your home now; we don't want you to get into trouble with your mother."
They walked back to the house in a comfortable silence, the only noises being that of nature.
"I always loved this village," Harry said as they came out of the trees. "I was told it was the birthplace of Godric Gryffindor."
"I have much more interest in Salazar Slytherin. I am descended from him," Tom said proudly.
"So, are you a Parselmouth?" Harry asked. His response was a string of hisses, which answered his question. "What did that mean?"
"You will never know. I must go now, though, if you like I can come back this evening?
Harry nodded and opened the front door of his house. When he turned around, Tom was gone.
X
His parents had returned not much later. Despite their code word, they still both insisted that Harry questioned them and then questioned him in turn.
In the end he got so bored that he decided to start on his homework, and as he dropped his quill to announce the end of his Charms homework, there was a knock at his door.
He opened it, revealing his mother and a woman with purple hair wearing Auror robes.
"Wotcher, Harry" the woman greeted. "My name's Tonks. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?"
Harry slowly nodded and allowed them to step into his room.
"No need to look nervous. I'm just here to ask a couple of routine questions," Tonks said, settling herself onto a chair she had conjured up.
"What's happened?" Harry asked anxiously, fearing something may have happened to James.
"Do you remember Matthew Johnson and Stephanie Parker?" Lily asked, her voice shaking slightly. Harry nodded; he had gone to muggle Primary school with them when he was little, though he hadn't spoken to them for years, only seen them around the village. "Well they were found dead earlier. The-the Dark Mark was in the sky above them."
"Did you see or hear anything suspicious this afternoon Harry?" Tonks asked, leaning forwards.
Harry shook his head. "I've been inside all day; nothing seemed out of the ordinary." He didn't know if it was against the law to lie to Aurors, but even so, he was sure Tom had nothing to do with the killings anyway; there were plenty of other Death Eaters about. "Sorry I can't be of more help," he added.
"It's fine. Whole thing never made sense to me anyway; the person responsible isn't going to stick around, or let witnesses get away, but still, we gotta do what the boss tells us. Thanks anyway Harry," Tonks smiled, leaving Harry's room with Lily close behind her. He could hear them speaking in hushed tones as they headed downstairs.
He didn't know whether he should be frightened or not that two people the same age as him had just been murdered by Death Eaters, but he remembered Tom had said the wards on his home were some of the best around, so he wasn't feeling overly nervous. Lily seemed to be shaken by it though and he hoped she didn't try and force him to stay inside for the whole of summer.
He started on some more of his homework, his attention being drawn away from his work when he heard a scratching noise on his floor by his bed.
Despite being too old to believe in monsters under the bed, he nonetheless switched the large, central light on and grabbed the heaviest book he could find with one hand, and held his wand in the other.
He crouched down, peering under the frame. He shot straight back up again and immediately shouted for his parents.
He crouched back down and slammed the book down hard, making the rat scramble out from under his bed. He bounded over the furniture, trying to bash the book as hard as he could over the creature. He called for his parents again; so much for being alert in the middle of a war, and eventually managed to trap the rat in a corner.
He was about to bash the book over the creature's body, but where the rat had been was suddenly a man.
He was short and round with thinning hair, and was wearing tattered robes. His hands were raised in the air, one of which Harry noticed was metallic.
"Don't do it," he said in a squeaky voice, looking up at Harry with watery eyes. Harry grimaced at the man's looks.
"Give me one good reason I shouldn't bash your head in for hiding in my room, you creep," he hissed, raising the book higher.
"No! Please!" the man protested, "my name's Peter, Peter Pettigrew. I was a-a friend of your Dad's. You look so much like him; I'm guessing you're little Harry. I've n-not seen you since you were a baby."
Harry guessed this Peter must be the one his parents refused to mention.
"Well my parents hate you now, so I don't take that as a good reason not to hit you," he warned.
Peter leapt up, reaching at Harry with a silver, metal hand.
"You can't let them know-"he urged, but Harry had yelped at the cold feeling of the metal and bashed Peter about the head with the book. It didn't do much damage, but the man let go off him and collapsed on the floor in fear.
He was about to have another swing, when his bedroom door was opened and his parents and Tonks came barging in.
"What the hell are you doing near my son, you traitorous little piece of vermin?" James growled, Stupefying the short man before he could respond.
"You're supposed to leave that to me, James," Tonks said jokingly, moving to where Pettigrew was and prodding him with her wand.
"He was under my bed, disguised as a rat," Harry told the room. "I guess he's an Animagus."
"No doubt running errands for his master," James spat.
"I'll take him to the Ministry. Good work Harry," Tonks said, taking hold of Peter and disapparating.
"He didn't hurt you, did he darling?" Lily asked, taking hold of Harry by the shoulders and looking him up and down for any signs of injury.
"No, he just freaked me out a bit. I hate the thought he might have been here for days," Harry answered truthfully.
Lily opened her mouth to speak, but James had bashed his fists onto the wall heavily, before hurrying out of the room, muttering something that sounded like 'beer'.
"I'm sorry, honey. You're alright now; I need to take care of your Dad," his mother said, wincing visibly as the sound of glasses clinking could be heard downstairs. Harry supposed James wouldn't have been able to give up alcohol in one night.
He turned his light off and lay down in his bed on top of the covers. It was far too early to sleep, but he was content just watching the ceiling.
"Do you actually have any hobbies or interests?" he heard Tom's voice say after a while. He turned to see the man stood watching him with a smirk. "I hear you got a Death Eater arrested."
"Sorry," Harry muttered, sitting up. "He seemed like a loser anyway; I beat him with a book."
"I'm not complaining. Pettigrew was a pathetic excuse of a man, and we'll be glad to see the end of him."
Tom sat down next to Harry, placing a number of books to his side.
"I've decided to teach you a valuable skill, Harry. It shall take some time to get right, but the end result will be most beneficial to you. Once you master this, you shall prove once and for all that you are better than those filth you attend school with."
"What is it?" Harry asked, looking at Tom with intrigue.
"Have you ever heard of Occlumency, Harry?
X
I hope you enjoyed the chapter.
Thank you to all my awesome readers. See you next chapter.
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