Saturday morning dawned late, bringing with it the expected lack of sunlight to Hogwarts. Looming above the castle was a mass of thick, grey cloud; sinking downwards in the center due to a countless measure of snow, ready to fall on the already coated grounds of the school. Down in the Slytherin Common Room, however, none of this could be seen. In fact, it didn't even appear to be daytime at all. The lake, which had frozen in the early weeks of January, remained with its encrustation of ice meters thick, casting an eerie shadow to be seen through every high-set window that the Common Room and dormitories had to offer.

A little less than a week had passed since the day Tom gave Harry the Resurrection Stone, and everything seemed far calmer than Harry had ever known it to be. It almost felt to him as though some sort of standstill had come over his life, since some portion of his worry had been taken away. He knew that he would still have to explain much about his past to Tom in a few weeks, yet this felt like a very long time away from where he was. Everything felt so… relaxed, and yet somewhere in the back of Harry's mind, he wasn't at all sure if this was a good thing.

Harry was currently in the Slytherin dormitory, pretending to search his trunk while Avery and Lestrange got ready to leave the room, talking excessively about Quidditch. There was supposed to be a match of Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin the following day, although Harry himself was for once entirely uninterested in the sport. Tom, who was reading another ancient volume on his bed, would be the only person left with Harry in the room if Avery and Lestrange vacated the dormitories.

Time seemed to be playing a rather cruel game with Harry. Whenever he wished that time would move on – as he had non-stop for the last few months on his life – everything seemed still and sluggish, while whenever he wanted anything to last, such as the little time he could spend with Tom each day, time would escape his notice without a backwards glance. Harry and Tom could only spend a little under an hour alone with each other each day, and Harry wanted to remember every second of it. That single hour in a day was the only thing he ever looked forward too, so he hoped that the weekends, at least, would avail with a little less interference from teachers and students.

After some time, the remaining Death Eaters left the dormitory, as Harry had hoped they would. He looked up as soon as the door closed behind them, to see Tom already walking towards him. Harry stood up from where he sat, watching a shadow of a smile appear upon Tom's lips.

"Good morning," Tom said, leaning against one of the posts of Harry's bed.

"Morning," Harry replied, moving closer to him.

Harry was a little under a meter away, before he stopped, knowing that it was still too early to risk coming too close to Tom. Tom seemed to guess that much from his distance, for he appeared unconcerned. "So, how shall we spend the day?"

"I dunno," Harry replied. "I suppose we'll have to be with the others mostly?"

"I don't think we need to spend the whole day with them," Tom stated, smiling as he examined Harry's expression. "We could always lie separately that we have other things to do…"

Harry smiled too. "That sounds alright."

Tom paused, thinking, before straightening up from where he lent, and slowly making his way towards Harry. "Of course, this still leaves us with the question of where we go when not dining and so on with my friends."

Harry watched as Tom moved ever closer, his mind becoming progressively more lightheaded with each of the other boy's steps. "That doesn't really matter, I suppose."

Tom was only a few inches away when he raised his right hand to caress the side of Harry's face, causing his eyes to close. "No, I don't suppose it does," Tom whispered, before kissing Harry.

Harry wasn't sure if he would ever get over this, as he felt Tom's lips press softly against his own. This feeling of conversing, of responding to the other boy in slow but impassioned progress, was all that seemed to matter to Harry anymore. Even now he could barely believe the attraction he felt, as their embrace became more immersing. He could feel Tom turn his head smoothly; taking in Harry's every touch as he found new angles from which to kiss him.

Tom's hand slid along Harry's jaw, then delicately drawing designs along his neck, where he knew his touch would be the most effective. Harry moved his hands to hold Tom's waist, slowly moving his body closer to the other boy's. Tom was biting Harry's lip in careful passion, his hands sliding up Harry's neck again, so he could run his fingers through his hair. Harry could feel his breath become continuously less composed as Tom kissed him again, his lips eager and encouraging…

Then, the door to the dormitory opened. Tom moved away from Harry with quicker reflexes than the latter could ever have expected, which left Harry standing where he was, bewildered for the few seconds it took for him to see Nott on the other side of the room. Harry and Tom stood frozen, watching the new arrival.

Nott didn't seem to have noticed anything. He spent a few seconds walking over to his bed, which was next to Harry's, and rummaging in his school bag before he looked up, suddenly aware of the lack of conversation. It was only after viewing Tom and Harry's expressions – or lack thereof – that he realised he had walked in on something important.

Harry dearly hoped that Nott wouldn't assume or work out that they had been kissing. He stood a few meters away, still silent as thoughts crossed his mind. Harry tried to keep his breath visibly even as he craved to know what Nott was thinking. It would both mess up time, perhaps, and cause Tom to leave if something even this simple happened. Harry tried to remain impassive as he watched the young Death Eater, no one saying anything for a moment, in fear of miscommunication. Tom was the first to speak.

"What are you doing back in the Dormitory?"

"I'm just grabbing some parchment and a quill," Nott replied quickly. "Avery and I are having a bet and we need to write it down, so he doesn't cheat this time."

Nott seemed a little uncomfortable with talking to either of his fellow Slytherins, and Harry wanted badly to know what was going on in his head. Nott's eyes were darting from Tom to Harry on and off, until they finally rested upon Harry for a few solid seconds.

It was then, without warning, that Harry read a mind for the first time. He was more than bewildered when Nott's voice suddenly rang through his head in a way he couldn't quite explain even to himself. He felt as though it was just Nott talking aloud as he heard the Death Eater's thoughts… yet it also felt to Harry as though he was gathering this information much like a child beginning to read.

(… interrupted some important conversation that I wasn't supposed to hear,) Nott thought to himself as he looked at Harry. (Jonathan even looks pale. Riddle probably hasn't finished lecturing him on how he's not supposed to miss our meetings. I wonder why he did something so mindless, anyway…)

Nott looked back at Riddle after this, breaking most of the connection Harry had into his mind. Harry was completely taken aback with this whole situation, and he remained completely silent. His mind raced to think about what could have changed in order to make him a Legilimens all of the sudden. He was glad that Tom wasn't looking at him as he reviewed this situation, for he knew he was probably doing a rather poor job at remaining expressionless.

Was it just because Harry had wanted to hear Nott's thoughts so much? Now that he thought about it, Harry wasn't sure whether he had ever really wanted to hear someone's mind lately. Except for perhaps Tom's mind, though Occlumency shielded him. It seemed somehow simple to Harry, even though it had been months since he began learning this piece of magic… A few seconds passed beyond this point, when Nott spoke to Tom again.

"It's only a bet on Quidditch this time, nothing to do with anything that could get us in trouble." Harry took from this that the Death Eaters had somewhat of a history in getting caught with dares and bets that easily break school rules under the watchful eyes of the Professors.

Riddle only nodded slowly to this, which was a cue for Nott to continue his search. Harry stood in silence for a few seconds, not meeting Tom's eyes as he turned to look at him again. He decided to not remain in the room any longer, in case his expression of bewilderment was blatant, so he made to leave.

"Stay," Tom hissed.

Harry turned to look back at the taller boy, surprised that he would make such an obvious statement, but Tom's expression suggested that this would pass the notice of Nott. Harry turned back to look at the Death Eater, and saw that he hadn't looked up. Then Harry understood… it was Parseltongue.

"Tell Avery to stop wasting everyone's time with these childish bets, won't you?" Tom asked Nott, who had by now found his quill and parchment.

"I don't think anyone can stop his obsession with gambling," Nott commented, "but I'll tell him anyway."

Tom smiled faintly, saying nothing.

"Well, I'll be going then," Nott said with a faint smile.

"We'll meet you later on, I am sure," Tom replied.

Nott turned to leave, closing the door firmly behind him when he left.

Tom paused for around twenty seconds, before saying, "That was a needless interruption."

"At least he didn't notice anything," Harry replied, watching Tom. He knew he could never see into Tom's head, like he did with Nott a moment ago, but he wondered whether he could be able to read Tom's expression more clearly now. Tom couldn't be perfectly unreadable forever, and if Harry could just understand his emotions well when his composure was less strong…

"He was close to noticing," Tom replied quietly, as his eyes averted from Harry's as he reflected upon what had happened. "We should be more careful."

Harry felt slightly disappointed with this. He had been hoping that Tom would declare this an unlucky event, and would move on… yet he understood the importance of this claim. "Yeah… maybe we should."

Tom looked up at Harry again. They gazed at each other for few moments. "We should go to breakfast," Tom said, "as the others doubtlessly have."

Harry nodded, giving no further reply.

Tom extended his hand to hold Harry's. "This doesn't effect anything, " he reassured with a slight smile. "We merely have to refrain from kissing in the dormitories so visibly."

Harry looked up into Tom's dark grey eyes, allowing himself to smile softly back while Tom pulled him carefully towards the exit of the dormitories. Tom's hand fell away from Harry's slowly when they opened the door to leave the room, making their way through the Common Room and along the corridors that would lead them to the upper floors of the castle yet again.

When they arrived in the Great Hall, Harry saw the usual cluster of Death Eaters sitting at the end of the Slytherin table. He followed Tom towards them all, sitting next to him due to lack of other seats. The Death Eaters carried on their conversations, a few of them saying hello to the new arrivals as they ate their breakfast. Harry pulled a plate of toast towards him, thinking vaguely about the day ahead. It was a few minutes before the voices of the Death Eaters caught his attention.

"Only a few bombs, but they landed right on London," Dolohov said, talking to five or six of the other Death Eaters who sat closest to him.

"What's interesting about that?" Lestrange asked snidely. "If I wanted to be recited the Muggle news, I don't believe I'd be sitting at this table."

"Well, obviously the Daily Prophet hasn't just added the boring Muggle stuff in it," Dolohov replied indignantly. "There's a point. They're saying that even though only about five Muggle bombs fell, there was a massive line of buildings blown to pieces."

"So?"

"So it weren't the Muggles that did it!" Dolohov said, pointing down to the newspaper in his hands. "The Ministry of Magic even got alerted about a mass of magic used at the exact spot where the explosion was."

The Death Eaters around Dolohov fall into a stunned silence after this. Harry looked up slowly, his own mind thinking over this story as he heard Avery speak.

"So… this was a Wizard attack?"

Dolohov nodded, breaking into a grin after a few seconds.

"But, who would want to go and attack all them Muggles? How many died?"

"I don't know, it's just says here that – hey, what you doing?"

Harry had grabbed the Daily Prophet, and was now staring down at a picture of a continuously burning Muggle building in the centre of London. His heart was racing, as he looked at the headline above the photo, printed in handsome black ink.

22nd of January 1945.

Wizards to be Blamed for Muggle Killings?

In the early hours of this morning, reports came flooding into the Ministry of Magic about Muggle London undergoing a small surprise attack by the German air force – the first bombing London has seen since the Baby Blitz of 1944. But this intelligence came with a shocking twist; it has been rumoured that these bombs (dropped upon a line of factories that rest above part of an important yet protected section of the Ministry's Improper Use of Magic Office) were neither created nor dropped by the German Muggles… (See page 7)

Harry tore open the paper, ignoring the other Death Eaters, who seemed to have a second newspaper at hand anyway. It wasn't hard for Harry to find the article he needed, for it took up nearly an entire page. He began to read where he left off, his mouth suddenly very dry.

Whether British or not, one cannot be sure, but it is clear that the attacker's motivation lies in tormenting England. British Muggles have naturally decided to blame their German foes, as the Ministry of Magic itself is still in clear panic to understand how and why monitors of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement received complaints of a rapid escalation of magical energy detected at the scene of the attack.

"All we know is that this wasn't the work of the Muggles," a worker at the Improper Use of Magic Office, Armando Fields, tells us, "which helps us to narrow down who in the world could have done this. No matter the attacker, we should be able to track them down soon." Yet so far there has been no success in discovering whom this was, for it is unclear what the intentions of the aggressor really were.

This leaves the Wizarding World with very little fact about the whole affair. Critics upon the situation asked whether this means British Wizards will have to fight back, to which the Minister of Magic herself replied, "Without a clear statement of why the attacker helped the Germans, and without facts telling us if the German Ministry for Magic itself was a part of this, no one can truly be sure."

Harry stopped reading at this point, allowing his thoughts to come together. He felt as though his stomach had been twisted into a hundred knots as he stared down at the paper. He knew that Grindelwald was related to this. Hadn't he read something about this in his History of Magic lessons so many years ago? Harry felt as though he had. Somewhere in the back of his mind this story was very familiar…

This had some relation to the Wizarding War that was going to break out in less than a year, lead by Grindelwald. Harry felt sick when he slowly realised that he couldn't remember anymore about this part of history. He wished more than anything that he had been listening in class, so he could know whether Grindelwald had attacked so soon…

Then, another article caught his eye. On the page next to the one Harry had been reading rested a picture of the Witch Harry knew to be the Minister of Magic, walking through a crowed of busy Ministry workers and eager reporters. Above her picture read the title:

Department of International Magical Cooperation Officially Rejects Hungarian & German Offers for Joint Ministry Units.

Harry stared, slow memories coming back to him at this point. Hadn't… hadn't Grindelwald influenced this particular offer, and hadn't he pushed this idea on the British Ministry for something close to a year before receiving an official response? The Minister of Magic had plainly refused the offer, Harry knew, and her refusal hadn't gone well. Harry hastened to read the article.

Throughout the year we have given reports upon the offer made by various European countries to the British Ministry of Magic, suggesting the formation of various Departments in many Ministries (beginning with Britain, Hungary and Germany) to enforce a new, partly-united government. This offer was suggested under the hope of overcoming various difficulties that many Ministries currently have in the field of keeping Magical Creatures in count, tracking down Dark Wizards, etc.

The head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation released a statement in the late hours of yesterday evening, saying "The British Ministry of Magic has given the propose plenty of thought over the last few months, but we've officially decided that we are in no ideal position to accept this plan lightly. There are many difficulties to all of this, and Britain has no current wish to become a joint unit with any other Ministry."

Harry felt sick, knowing that this could be related to Grindelwald, who had himself and his followers placed in many different Ministries throughout Europe, as Harry had definitely learnt from History of Magic. He wondered whether anyone else knew this, or if anyone would work this all out before the war…

Harry could physically feel the pressure that this one realisation set upon him. It was now, while he sat in the Great Hall with the Death Eaters and Tom, that he would have to begin making his lies seem as real as possible. He could see a thousand holes in the story of his past now, and he wasn't ready to face any of them. He didn't know what he would do if Tom suspected him of inventing his own past, of playing him as a fool for this long. Yet Harry's stories were all half-truths… all he needed was to give his sincere accounts of the past if asked, whilst somehow making them fit into the doings of Grindelwald… He wasn't ready for this.

Harry could sense Tom looking at him. Tom had been reading the articles Harry read, watching over his shoulder. When he looked up, Harry saw that Tom's countenance was blank, but he understood that Tom comprehended how this article related to Grindelwald. They looked at each other for a moment, listening vaguely to the Death Eaters who had become bored with waiting to see their reactions to the main article in the Prophet.

"Can I have a word with you, Jonathan?" Tom asked, his expression never changing. Harry understood he was only saying this for the Death Eaters.

"Sure," Harry replied, trying to remain impassive as many of the Death Eaters turned to see what Tom could possibly want with talking to 'Jonathan' yet again.

Harry followed Tom out of the Great Hall, across the Entrance Hall and down a stone staircase that lead to the dungeons. They walked for a little under a minute before Tom found an empty classroom, and Harry followed him inside. When the door was closed behind them, Tom turned to look at Harry. He paused for a minute, finding his words.

"That attack on London… Grindelwald was a part of it, wasn't he?"

Somehow, hearing these words from Tom was the worst thing of all to Harry, who dropped his gaze. "I don't know if it was him," he replied honestly, "but a lot of things suggest it was."

"Germany," Tom began, "that have to be among some of the main countries he's managed to get power over."

Harry said nothing, allowing Tom to carry on with his theories.

"His name suggest as much – with his Hungarian first name, 'Gellert', and his German last name, 'Grindelwald'. There was also that article about–"

"The Hungarian and German Ministries wanting to share joint units with other countries, most of all with Britain," Harry finished.

"Hungary has been an ally of Germany since the First World War," Tom remarked.

"Which means that the Minister's refusal could have provoked the attack on London."

"He's wisely using the Muggle War as the excuse as his own personal reply to the British Ministry," Tom said. "The Muggles aren't thinking twice about where the explosion came from, yet the whole Wizarding World know about the magical power was put into it."

"It was right above a part of the Ministry, as well." Harry added, the worry audible in his voice. "As if the Minister needed any more signs to understand what this was all about."

Tom was watching Harry's expression. There was a short pause at this point where Tom's thoughts lingered on. "He's going to try and take over Britain, isn't he?"

Harry paused, his stomach twisted with nerves. "He's already taken over so many other Ministries… so I'm guessing he'll want to infiltrate Britain too."

"It must be simple for him to take advantage of the Muggle war, now that he's inside the other Ministries," Tom suggested. His voice was carefully composed, and Harry wondered what he was feeling. "There was also talk about Magical Creatures and Dark Wizards being tracked by the joint Ministry if England was to join in."

"Making it possible to get Magical Creatures and Dark Wizards out of sight if you're in power," Harry confirmed. "He could have had people and beings doing his biding all over Europe and England without anyone noticing…" Harry hated the parallels the work of Grindelwald drew with Voldemort, but he tried not to think about that too much. He had to tell himself over and over again that he wasn't actually linked in this war… Well, he wouldn't have to fight in it, anyway.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry wondered how much Tom admired Grindelwald for his success, and how much he hated it for being related to Harry, and being related to taking over England. Tom's next words interrupted Harry's thoughts, "But the Minister ought to know about all of this?"

"I hope so," Harry replied. "She has to know about some of it, at least. She would be a fool to miss the connection; if it is that she knows or has theories about what's happening in most of the Ministries across Europe."

"Oh, I don't doubt she has theories," Tom replied. "There has been a lot of whispering about the work of Grindelwald, even if most of the world is in denial."

Harry thought back to an article he had read, dated back to 1942. There was a huge scene in the centre of France where a man was shouting about Grindelwald's organization and power before he was Apparated away by a group of seven figures cloaked in black material. The main newspapers, such as the Daily Prophet, didn't post much more than a short article about the said man having suffered a blow to the head, saying that the French hospitals were not aware of his existence before they came to get him, 'Apparating him to where professionals would examine him for injury'. In truth, he was an ex-associate of Grindelwald, who had realized just how far Gellert was going to take his anti-Muggle messages. This was one of many peculiar accounts relating to Grindelwald.

As Harry was thinking about this, Tom had been watching him. After what seemed like a long pause to Harry, Tom asked, "What will you do if he comes to England?"

Harry dwelt upon this thought for a moment, taking his apparent suffering and his entire past into consideration. "If he comes to England, then… I suppose I see how close he ends up coming to me again. Then, if I can manage it, I'll kill him myself."

Tom looked as though he wanted to ask something else past this, but he held his tongue. After another pause, he said, "We should go back to the others."

"Yeah," Harry replied. When he said no more, Tom slowly made his way towards the exit, and Harry followed. He had a feeling that it was going to be a long day, as his time of blissfulness was already over…