11 - Motives

The next morning, during Charms class, Harry give Ron and Hermione an overview of his meeting with Dumbledore. His description of Horcruxes was rather vague and rushed due to a loss of concentration, but he managed to tell them everything they wanted to know. By the end of it, they were lost for words, staring at him with amazement.

"Wow," was Ron's first reaction. He was waving his wand vaguely and casting a spell without realising it, making flakes of snow sprinkle down from a few feet above them. "Wow. You're actually going to go with Dumbledore... and try and destroy... wow."

"Ron, you're making it snow," said Hermione, an amused smile on her lips as she grabbed his wrist. When they lowered his wand, Harry spotted Lavender Brown glowering at them from across the room. Hermione hastily retracted her hand.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," said Ron. "Looks like we've all got horrible dandruff now..."

No sooner had Ron begun brushing snow off of Hermione's shoulders, Lavender burst into tears. Ron looked even more guilty, turning away.

"We split up," he told Harry, "Last night. When she saw me coming out of the dormitory with Hermione. Obviously she couldn't see you, so she thought it had just been the two of us."

"Ah," said Harry. "Well – you don't mind it's over, do you?"

"No," he admitted. "It was pretty bad while she was yelling, but at least I didn't have to finish it."

"Coward," said Hermione, still smiling a bit somehow. "Well, it was a bad night for romance all round. Ginny and Dean split up too, Harry."

Harry was surprised. He wasn't sure why Hermione directed these words at him so specifically, nor why she gave him a very knowing look. He then remembered that she suspected he was seeing someone in secret. How she thought he was after Ginny, he had no idea.

"How come?" he asked.

"Oh, it was really sully... she said he was always trying to help her through the portrait hole, like she couldn't climb in herself... but they've been a bit rocky for ages."

Harry wondered if that had been his fault; he had seen them when he left the Gryffindor Common Room last night and he had heard them begin to argue. Dean certainly looked defeated and unhappy when Harry glanced at him.

"Of course, this puts you in a but of a dilemma, doesn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"The Quidditch team," Hermione reminded him. "If Ginny and Dean aren't speaking..."

"Oh – oh yeah," Harry said. In all honesty, he couldn't care any less about Quidditch now.

"Flitwick," Ron warned them.

As the Professor approached, their conversation was hastily dropped. Harry didn't bother to comment on it when, throughout the entire day, Ron and Hermione both showed signs of being secretly gleeful that Lavender was no longer a problem for them. They were so caught up in this new change that they didn't notice a different sort of change in Harry. His spirit had plummeted for the complete opposite reason.

He was unsure how he felt about Tom. Things were already so complicated, what with Dumbledore's explanation of Horcruxes and his desire to hunt down the rest of them; Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to be too close to Tom. Things were too dangerous. Harry was worried for hours, even as he tried to relax in the Common Room with Ron and Hermione. He wished Tom wasn't so eager to get to know him. He needed time to think...

He decided, after not much debate, that he should go up to his dormitory so Ron and Hermione could have time on their own. He was sure it's what they wanted. The dormitory was empty and he was thankful of it. It was early in the evening, only eight O'clock, and although the other Gryffindors might bother him every now and then, Harry would have peace until nine O'clock at least. He threw himself on his bed, exhausted from school.

As usual, some part of him wished he hadn't parted from Ron and Hermione's company. Whether he was near them or away from them, a part of him felt restless and bothered in some way. He couldn't decide what was worse, being left with his own thoughts or being constantly asked why he looked so down. Trying not to think about it, he reached for a distraction.

He had just begun getting comfortable again, pulling out a hidden book on Occlumency from under his bed, when he was disturbed by the last person he wanted to see so soon. Tom. He was sitting on the far end of Harry's bed, his expression pleasant and inoffensive, his general attitude relaxed. Harry tensed, as if to spite him.

"Hello," Tom greeted.

"Hey..."

"Am I bothering you?" he asked, his head tilting to the side somewhat. "Seeing as you withdrew that book so readily, I assumed you were hoping for a lesson from me."

"Well – well I just figured I may as well read while I sit here doing nothing."

"I wise choice," Tom smiled. "With the recent lesson from Dumbledore, I'm sure you are eager to begin defend yourself even more readily."

"Yeah, I am."

He was about to add that this is something he could do on his own, without any of Tom's help, but he stopped. Tom's smile had faded. For a moment, one fleeting second, he looked sadly at Harry. As soon as Harry noticed it, Tom sat up straighter, a new thought dawning on him.

"If Dumbledore wishes to bring you along on his hunt for Voldemort's Horcruxes, there is a lot of magic I can teach you, to help you defend yourself against dark enchantments above all. Voldemort will not have held back on his efforts to stop any prying souls from discovering and destroying his own shattered self."

Harry shifted uncomfortably where he sat. "Dumbledore's going to keep me safe from that. And anyway, it's not like I can't defend myself..."

"This is very dark magic, Harry. Magic that goes beyond anything you could possibly know-"

"I have Dumbledore, don't I? That's all the help I need."

Tom was staring at him in confusion, so much so that Harry had to look away. He knew Tom was trying to read his thoughts, to understand what he meant by all this.

"You're tense," Tom commented.

"Can't you see why? All of this talk about Horcruxes, about Voldemort being immortal..."

"No," Tom said quietly, "It's more than that."

Harry said nothing, flipping through the pages of the ancient book.

"You're afraid of me."

"Look, can you just drop it?" Harry asked. "There are more important things for me to be worried about right now, if you didn't notice."

"I explained to you what I am," Tom said, "I reminded you of the facts, of the way I have protected you, the way I differ from the Horcruxes Dumbledore describes -"

"I don't want to talk about this, Riddle."

This is where Harry made a mistake. Tom noticed his distance not in his actions, but in his scorning use of the name 'Riddle'.

"You're annoyed by what happened last night?"

Harry just looked away again, not wanting to have this conversation.

"You weren't like this before," Tom pointed out. He was troubled. "What changed?"

"I'm just – I don't want... that," Harry explained lamely.

Tom seemed to want to accept this without question, but he was struggling. "Why?"

"Well, why do you think? You show up out of nowhere and tell me you've been here my whole life, and suddenly you're telling me all these mad theories – telling me that my own best friends have turned against me – when you can't even explain what you really are. I just don't think I'm ready to believe everything you say, I'm not ready to – to be that close."

Tom didn't respond immediately, he took time to think things over. His first real response was inclining his head calmly. "I understand," he said. "Nevertheless, I hope you know that I care about your safety... I want to be here for you. I'm sorry to have shaken you in my haste."

"It's fine," Harry said awkwardly, at loss for anything else to say.

Tom seemed keen to move on from this, either to spare Harry's discomfort or his own – or both. His calmness managed to calm Harry too a bit, even as he began talking in a more businesslike tone.

"Now, have you much time to spare for a lesson?"

"Er, well I have some more homework to finish, but it can probably wait an hour or so."

"I don't suppose any of your classmates will return here so early? I'd suggest that we leave the Gryffindor Common Room to practice magic in a quieter part of the school, but it is unwise to risk questions following your absence. I believe we should spend today discussing the theory of Occlumency. Now..."

Without question, Tom began to explain the magic, summoning the book from Harry's hands and leaving it to hang in the air for them both to see. With Tom's explanations, the magic was easy to understand. They spent the whole evening like this. Harry understood a great deal more about the magic, until they were interrupted by Ron returning to the dormitory for good.

Throughout the following week Harry and Tom had lessons together without trouble. To Harry's relief, Tom never brought up the subject of the night they kissed, and nor did he make any comment at all on the fact that, more likely than not, he wished for them to be close in this way. They were beginning to get closer in another way with the magic Tom taught him next: a form of possession to not only help Harry learn more magic, but to help them use a combined force of magic to be even more powerful than they were divided.

"This isn't dark magic, is it?" Harry asked him as one of their lessons drew to a close. "I mean, possessing people isn't something that's normally taught at Hogwarts. I've never seen it used at all, unless you count the Imperius Curse Barty Crouch Jr. used, to teach us about the Unforgivable Curses."

"It's a very advanced branch of magic," Tom explained. "Only Seventh Years begin to learn about it fully, I believe, in their Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Under Dumbledore's leadership, anyway."

"So, it's not dark then?"

Tom smiled softly, as if amused. "I do not believe that any magic is light or dark. It is the intentions behind magic that defines it's morality, in much the same way that intention and belief conjures magic to begin with."

Harry frowned a little. He wasn't sure what to make of this, especially as he was sure Tom had just succeeded in avoiding a direct answer.

"My intention is to help you," Tom said, seeing Harry's dubiousness. "You can see how this is already improving your ability to understand Occlumency. With this magic, I can stop you completely from having your mind read even before you've learnt the magic properly. I can read the minds of others for you without you going through the awaiting months of training."

Well, Harry thought, this was better than having his mind repetitively broken into by Tom in the name of learning Occlumency. "That is quite useful, to be honest."

"It's wonderful," Tom said, smiling a sharp smile. "Let us try again, to make sure that it truly works..."

Tom disappeared moments later. A fog momentarily took over Harry's mind, leaving his vision perfectly clear. He could hear Tom's voice in his head, directing him, talking to him. Tom could preform magic through Harry's body with both ease and shocking precision. The only downside to this was, it never lasted long.

"Brilliant!" Tom exclaimed the moment he was out of Harry's head.

Harry couldn't help but smile at him. "So, this is really going to work, then?"

"I believe so, yes," Tom said. "With this new ability, we have the power to not only conjoin our magic, but to synchronize our minds and actions as one. We have an entirely different way of communication, one that could only be detected by Legilimency – which we can resist, of course!"

"And what, we're more powerful like this?"

"By a great extent, yes," Tom told him, beaming. "We have always been powerful, even separated, and I have leant you magic when you needed it in much the same way that leant me magic, but with this... we become more powerful still."

Harry was admittedly quite awed and impressed by all of this. He could no longer feel the cold chill of this deserted classroom that he and Tom talked within. "It's brilliant."

"Now, I wonder only to what extent we can push this," Tom said, turning from Harry. "It is my belief that -"

"Wait."

On impulse, Harry had tried to take Tom's hand, to stop him from turning away. Tom turned back, surprised. He must have felt what had happened, but Harry wasn't quite sure how; his own hand had fall through Tom's, unable to reach him. It was as if he wasn't there at all. They stared at each other for a moment. The atmosphere had changed.

"We have used a lot of magic today," Tom explained, perhaps reading the question in Harry's expression. "When this happens, I am no longer as whole."

Harry said nothing. So, Tom wasn't real... and hadn't the Diary Tom been exactly like this? Lacking energy, lacking the ability to be whole? He had taken all of Ginny's power instead, feeding off of her heart, her emotions, her soul. Harry was suddenly deeply unsettled. He decided he needed a better explanation.

"What are you?"

"I am a wizard, much like your-"

"You're not human. You're not real."

Tom never broke his gaze. "I lack a body, yes... but I am not a mere illusion."

"You're a piece of soul," Harry said. He knew he was right. "You're like the Diary Horcrux."

"You're mistaken."

"Then explain it, Tom."

Harry was convinced Tom was like the Diary now. He had been thinking about this on and off for the last fortnight, never allowing the thought to sink in properly until now. To his surprise, he wasn't scared. He was brooding.

"We all have souls, do we not? We are souls," Tom began. "Human bodies are mere cases in which a soul is stored for an exploration of this world... I am a soul with no body. I am a soul bound to earth only because of you. I am not the Diary, I am not any other item Voldemort chose to store a piece of his soul in, for if I was, why, then, would he so determinedly attempt to kill you? You know who I am, Harry, for I have been with you all the way along..."

Could he trust what Tom said, Harry wondered? He would have refused to immediately if it weren't for one thing: Tom seemed to be trying to protect him. It wasn't like with Ginny, where Voldemort's soul had used her fragile heart for his own power. Tom wasn't taking anything from him... Harry decided to remain cautious. Only one thing truly bothered him.

"You're not Voldemort, are you?"

"No," Tom swore again. "He and I are not one. He is still at large, doing who knows what with the Death Eaters. You know he would have killed you already, had he gained access to you through me. Even if, in honesty, others may not think so..."

"Others?" Harry repeated. "What, like Dumbledore?"

"Yes..."

Tom's tone was odd. He stood in prominent silence, as if refraining from saying too much. A sense of foreboding filled Harry at once.

"Dumbledore doesn't know you exist though, does he?"

"No," Tom said, "and I wish to keep it that way. I fear he is already suspicious..."

"Why would he be suspicious of you?"

"He is hunting Horcruxes."

"But you said -"

"I know," Tom added smoothly, "but if he were to discover my existence, this would be the first thing he assumes..."

"So... since Dumbledore wants to destroy all of Voldemort's Horcruxes, you're scared he's going to kill you by mistake?"

Tom's lips were pressed hard together. He watched Harry very carefully, a troubled look upon his face. "I am not a Horcrux," he repeated. "I am not bound to any object..."

In a moment so quick that he could barely comprehend it, Harry understood. The blood drained from his face, his eyes widening. "You're bound to me."

Tom turned his face away, breaking eye contact.

"You – you said it yourself," Harry stammered, "you're bound to me, Tom. You're a soul without a body, you're – they're -"

Harry's heart felt like it had skipped a beat. His mind was slipping from reality. He wished so badly that Tom would tell him this wasn't true, but he never said a word.

"To kill you... he'll have to kill me..."

He could see this was true the moment Tom gave him a silent, pained look. In nothing over a whisper, he said, "Yes. Dumbledore will have no choice, if he honestly believe that there is no chance of Voldemort falling while I remain alive."

Harry's heart was hammering in his chest, his lungs aching for more breath.

"So... so what do we do?" he asked, trying hard to keep his voice strong.

Tom shook his head as if in defeat. "There's not much we can do, besides prepare ourselves the best we can. It is why I have begun training you, like no one else has ever bothered to before."

Harry felt as if he was a long way away from his body, like he was looking at Tom through a dark tunnel. "So, all of this... everything Dumbledore is teaching me... it's just a distraction? He isn't trying to protect me..."

"I believe that is the only explanation. We know that he is dying," Tom said quietly. "I wonder often if he has given up on this war, given up on life... He clearly gave up on your survival long ago."

Harry was shaking his head, unable to accept any of this. He felt as if he might faint.

"We can't know any of this for sure, however," Tom told him, perhaps fearing he would indeed pass out.

"But – but it can't be any other way, can it? Ron and Hermione thought he'd be teaching me powerful magic, or at least teaching me how to defend myself, but he hasn't... He hasn't even told me how to destroy Horcruxes..."

Dumbledore had never prepared him at all, the more he thought about it. He had tried teaching Harry Occlumency in his fifth year, but as soon as Snape threw him out of class, no further attempts to train him had been made. Had Dumbledore really given up on Harry?

He didn't know how he was supposed to calm himself down. All he could do was stare, his mouth dry, his ears ringing with the lack of sound to take in. He wanted to run. This couldn't be possible...

"So that's it, then," he said shakily. "This is – this is all anything's lead up to, isn't it?"

"Harry -"

Harry moved away when Tom stepped forwards; he tried to push his hand away. It fell through again. He wondered for a fleeting second how Tom had forgotten this would happen.

"I didn't mean to scare you by telling you all of this," Tom said.

"Yeah?" Harry asked sarcastically. He was annoyed now. "Well, great job..."

Tom stepped closer still. Even if they couldn't touch, he seemed to want to comfort Harry in any way he could. Harry wished he wouldn't.

"I didn't want to tell you at all," Tom admitted, "for I knew it would scare you... Yet you must understand that we don't know what's going through Dumbledore's head. All I know is that he's suspicious. I want to protect you, I want to ensure that you and I are safe, but we cannot know yet how much protection we might need."

This was such a pitiful hope, Harry had no choice but to cling to it. He was being protected by Tom, at the very least... "So, what now?"

"We must be cautious," Tom told him. "We must stay vigilant, to gather information, and wait."

It was hopeless, Harry felt. He never said a word, he never let Tom know of the worries that took over his mind and heart. He was sure it was visible in his eyes, in his actions. Dumbledore had given up on him...

The night was quiet. They barely said a word to each other before Tom parted from him, and he was left alone.

– X –

A day after their sombre meeting, Harry found himself becoming paranoid. He endured hours of schoolwork being half-distracted by his worries, being distant and moody to Ron and Hermione. It was costing him a lot to be like this, so he decided to seek Tom's help. He found an empty classroom an hour before dinner, waiting. When Tom appeared, he asked if it were possible for him to stay around more often, to see if he could help gathering any more evidence on the subject of Dumbledore's suspicions.

"This will take a great deal of magic from you," Tom told him. "Even an hour of me being visible to you tires you greatly."

"I don't care," Harry told him. "If this is the difference between having a chance to stay alive and getting killed by Dumbledore who knows when, I'd rather stay tired."

"You'll fall behind on your studies."

Harry gave a hollow laugh. "As if schoolwork's going to help me when I've got Voldemort trying to kill me outside of Hogwarts and Dumbledore trying to kill me within it. Just – I dunno – can't you stay around me without wasting magic being actually visible all the time?"

Tom thought this over swiftly. "That is manageable," he said. "Though... perhaps I should also take a little time to help you with your studies, so your Professors do not suspect something is distracting you."

"Alright, fine," Harry said, not truly caring. "I just want to know that something isn't happening at Hogwarts past what I can see."

So Tom accompanied Harry invisibly throughout all his interactions with the other students, through classes, Quidditch practice (watching from the stands), breaks, and until a few hours before he slept. Harry started becoming very used to Tom's presence, even if he couldn't see him all the time. It was almost comforting to know that he was standing close by.

During a Defence Against the Dark Arts class a few days after their worrying discovery, Harry became so troubled by a thought that he completely lost interest in whatever Snape was going on about. He knew Tom was paying attention and he was taking advantage of this a little. He was thinking about how Dumbledore was going to die.

He wondered how on earth Snape was involved in this, and why he and Dumbledore had spoken about it so privately that only Hagrid had overheard them in the school grounds. Had Dumbledore wanted him to hear? Had he warned any of the other teachers or members of the Order of the Phoenix about the mad plan he was surely devising? Had -

"Potter!"

Harry jumped, sitting up and pulling his attention immediately to Snape, who was standing right by his desk.

"Er – what was the question, sir?"

Snape's eyes narrowed.

"I never asked you a question, Potter," he spat. "It should be no question at all that I expect you to pay attention during my class, or expect a quick detention for not doing so."

"Right – er – sorry, Professor."

Snape scowled at him before turning away. Hermione sighed irritably, shaking her head but not saying a word to him. Ron gave him a half-shrug before turning back to Snape. Harry was left confused.

"Does he mean I get detention?" he hissed to Tom. "He never actually said."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tom reappear in the chair next to him. "I'm unsure..."

"He hasn't given me detention much lately," Harry mumbled, scratching down a few notes to look busy. "I dunno why."

"I have a theory," Tom said slowly.

"You do?"

"Yes. There's something you should see..."

"What is it?"

Hermione cast Harry a quick look, as if she had heard his hisses. She then looked away, seemingly convinced that it was nothing. The bell rang.

"Trust me," Tom asked of him.

The next thing Harry knew, there was a loud 'BANG!' and his textbook, notes, spare parchment, quill and ink went flying off the table.

"Harry!" Hermione gasped in surprise.

He had very nearly knocked over Ron and Hermione's notes, while his were sprawled on the ground, soaking up ink from his smashed inkpot.

"Leave it, it's fine," Harry said when Hermione began trying to help him. "You'll be late for class."

"Oh, alright," Hermione said. She wasn't annoyed, but she seemed to notice Harry was. "You'll be alright?"

"I'll be fine," Harry said. "Go, before Snape blames the two of you too."

Snape was indeed heading towards them, perhaps seizing his chance to punish Harry further – as if he wasn't already annoyed enough. Ron and Hermione turned away with a quick "Sorry, mate," from Ron. Harry had just enough time to shoot an irked glance at Tom before Snape was towering above him.

"Tell me, Potter," Snape began, sneering, "has it become too much of a troublesome task for you to pack away your school-bag like any normal wizard, or do you take pleasure in being a careless, bumbling fool, stooping to any level to catch the attention of all your fellow classmates? Twenty Points from Gryffindor."

Harry heard Crabbe and Goyle snickering on their way out the classroom. Malfoy's blond head could be seen weaving throughout the crowd of students, but he was silent.

"Two hours of detention this week should be enough to remind you, Potter, that you should pay more attention."

"Yes, sir," Harry said dully, moping up the useless remains of his notes. He hadn't written down much today, anyway. He saw Tom sitting next to him, staring unblinkingly at Snape.

"Look at me when I am talking to you, Potter," Snape snapped.

Harry did so, dropping the ink-sodden parchment back on the ground before glowering up at him. Hatred filled the Professor's pasty skin before, in a moment so quick Harry was unsure when it happened, Tom possessed him. He could almost feel the shield going up over his mind. His emotions were cut off for a while, because those were far too easy for Snape to latch onto. He stared blankly, waiting.

He didn't resist it when Tom began controlling him, keeping his gaze fixed steadily on Snape's black eyes. He was going to preform Legilimency. For the first time, Harry would see what this was like.

Snape's mind was unprotected in these precious few seconds because he would never dream, in all his life, that Harry could preform magic so complicated. Tom was latching onto Snape's anger, pulling them further into his mind to search for the root of it. Snape was one of the most skilful Occlumens the wizarding world had perhaps ever known, but Tom surely had as much knowledge as Voldemort himself on the skill of Legilimency. Snape's guard was nonexistent.

It is a wonder how Dumbledore can convince him that he has the power to defeat the Dark Lord, Snape's voice echoed through Harry's head as Tom continued searching. An inflamed ego is the only thing that could possibly keep him from knowing... from knowing... Tom was latching onto this thought, pulling to the root of Snape's emotions for this. Suddenly, without truly knowing how, Harry found himself standing in an odd reconstruction of Dumbledore's office.

So the boy... the boy must die? Snape was asking.

And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus, Dumbledore's voice was echoing in response. That is essential...

All Harry could see was Snape's anguished face, Dumbledore's calm expression, and the darkening, unfocused office behind them. So the boy... the boy must die?

Tom was retreating, taking them out of the strange happenings in Snape's mind.

Harry could see the classroom around him again, he could see Snape standing in front of him, a look of irritation on his face. Tom was guarding Harry's mind, but Harry looked away to make sure Snape didn't see his sudden ability to preform Occlumency. Had he noticed them extracting this memory, he wondered? He couldn't be sure. He didn't know how Legilimency worked.

"Finish packing this away," Snape ordered, "and leave. I expect to see you in double detention, Friday evening."

"Yes, sir..."

Tom stopped possessing his mind as soon as Snape turned away. With his own thoughts back, Harry's head felt numb. His hands were trembling as he removed ink from the last few pieces of parchment, cleaning it up with a wave of his wand. Even when he was done, he didn't look at Tom. He stood up, throwing his rucksack over one shoulder. They left Snape's classroom.

Harry needed to find an empty classroom. He headed all along the first floor, finding one after a mere minute or two. The passing students may have stared, but he never looked up at them, nor checked to see if Tom was still following him. Tom closed the classroom door behind them before he could. All Harry could do was pace the room, his heart hammering, his head spinning.

"That can't have been real," he said the moment he could gather his senses. "That can't – that can't have happened!"

Tom made his way towards Harry, sitting on a nearby desk. "I'm afraid it did."

"So – so what what is this?" Harry demanded. "Snape and Dumbledore have just been plotting my death or – or deciding when to throw me out there to face Voldemort on my own? I don't have a chance at defeating him! Tom, I can't – I..."

Harry ran his hands through his hair, trying to get his head around everything that was happening. He took in deep, panicked breaths. He didn't know what he was supposed to do now.

"This is worse than I feared," Tom said quietly.

"You think?" Harry asked. He felt so stressed and terrified now, all he wanted to do was run.

"Dumbledore must know about me," Tom muttered, ignoring Harry's comment. "He must know of my existence... The least I can say is that he must be as of yet unaware that I have awoken again inside you. He mustn't be aware of the fact that you know I am here, for if he knew, you wouldn't currently be breathing..."

Harry kept pacing the room, trying to stay on top of his emotions. He was so angry. He was terrified. The stress was building up inside him, making his arms ache and his legs tremble.

"As for Snape," Tom carried on, "he will likely discover that it is I who gives you your tremendous strength. We will have to make sure he doesn't tell Voldemort of my existence."

"And what if he does?" Harry asked him. "What do we do?"

Tom shook his head. For the first time, he looked almost scared. "There's nothing we could do."

Harry stopped walking to stare at him. "There has to be something we can do."

"Snape will surely be the one to bring you to Voldemort, to please both his conflicting masters. With this news, it doesn't matter who's side he's truly on, for Dumbledore has lost. He will be dead soon and so will you if his plans go well; it's clear he has trained no on else to face Voldemort. I've explained before that I am going to train you the best I can, so we are at least prepared for what is to come. It will not be easy."

Harry's chest was aching. "We don't stand a change."

"How so?"

"If the Death Eaters, Voldemort, Dumbledore, and the entire Order of the Phoenix is trying to kill me-"

"Not the Order," Tom said. "It's only Snape and Dumbledore, as far as we know."

"As far as we know is bad enough!"

Harry couldn't take this. His mind felt so light, this can't have been real.

"If the entire Order of the Phoenix wanted you dead because of this, I'm afraid you would already be dead," Tom told him. "You would have seen signs of their pity, you would have sensed their dismay."

"And what if I jut didn't notice?" Harry asked. He tried hard to keep sorrow from clinging to his voice.

"Dumbledore likes to keep his plans as secret as possible. He would not go around telling the Order of the Phoenix that you are doomed to die, for it would not only risk a Death Eater or two gaining this information, but it would risk you learning more than you were meant to know... Dumbledore would not want any chance of your survival."

"So, why am I even alive right now? If Dumbledore wants me dead..."

"I have no answer for that," Tom admitted. "My more plausible theory so far is merely that he wants to stop Voldemort from knowing of my existence and he wants to avoid having to murder you himself."

"Don't," Harry croaked. "Don't say that."

"It's the truth."

"I don't care if it's the truth, I don't want to hear it!" Harry shouted at him. It was so much easier to be angry. "I don't want to hear that – that this is the end, or that there's nothing else we can do!"

Tom stood up. "Harry, Listen to-"

"If this is it, if this is all anything had lead up to, Tom, I want to fight!"

"I know," Tom told him. "We're going to have to, for if we do not fight, we'll likely be killed by any number of wizards after your head. Things will only get worse."

"How is this going to work?" Harry asked him desperately.

"Three things could happen. Voldemort could find out that Dumbledore wants you dead, making him rethink his attempts to kill you, Dumbledore can become wiser before his death and stop his plans to lead you towards your death, or nothing will can change. If the latter, we'll have to fight both sides."

Harry wanted to be angry, but it was harder to do when Tom looked upon him sadly.

"He... He lied to me," was the first thing Harry said in sorrow. "Dumbledore..."

"I know," Tom said softly. They stood meters apart, watching each other.

"If he knows that Malfoy and Snape are going to kill him, why would he give up?" Harry asked. "Snape made the Unbreakable Vow with Malfoy's mother, he must have told Dumbledore about all of this – he knows Dumbledore is going to die... And what, Dumbledore just goes with it?"

A moment of wonder crossed Tom's face. It was gone in seconds. "Dumbledore is ill, is he not? It doesn't matter what kills him, I assume."

"Yeah, I guess he must be..."

So that was it, Harry thought. Dumbledore knew the war was already over for him.

"Tom, what do we do..."

"I'll protect you."

Harry looked up, trying to breath evenly through the anger and sorrow and bound his lungs. "You will?"

"Yes."

"And I'll protect you."

"Yes."

Harry didn't dare to show weakness in front of Tom, but this single understanding, this single bond between them made him feel the first moment of safety. They had each other. They only had reach other, but that had a chance of being enough.

"I will fight alongside you until our death..."