Dear readers, I must first of all apologise for how long it's taken me to write this chapter! I've made it nice and long as compensation for that. I finally found a solution to my previous laptop breaking and I've managed to get most of my writing in order, so it's all good now. You can expect another chapter soon without me tormenting you too much with my slow pace, haha.

Two notes about this chapter: there's a small portion of canon used at the end of it (all credit going to JK Rowling) and I would like to make it clear that the Ginny Weasley I write here, like with all characters, is influenced from the HP books, not the movies. It might make it a bit more pleasant for you to read her if you remember that. She was so much stronger, more awesome, and more interesting in the books, I wanted to give her a bit of an important role.

That's all for now. Enjoy!

13 - Innocence

The fear and anger of the students around Harry was too much to take. If Slytherins weren't glaring and hissing cruel threats to him during the day, the other three Houses were staring at him with held breath as he passed, fleeing any courtyards and study-rooms he entered. More often than not, lately, he stayed in the Gryffindor Tower when he wasn't in class. In there, the students were at least used to his presence, even if they rarely spoke to him.

Harry sat in the empty dormitory, wondering where Ron and Hermione were. For the first time in weeks – maybe even months – he wasn't planning to avoid them if he found them. They hadn't tried to talk to him at all since Ron last got angry, and Harry couldn't tell if they were scared, angry, or just unwilling to argue with him anymore. There was only way he could find out which; he had to talk to them.

If he had the choice, Harry would gladly leave Hogwarts now. He knew there was nothing worth staying here for. He death was planned and if he ever wanted to evade it, he couldn't stay anywhere near Dumbledore or Snape. Furthermore, if he was going to have to spend his life hiding from the Death Eaters and the Order of the Phoenix, two groups containing the most powerful witches and wizards he knew, there was no use in him finishing his education.

The only reason he was staying here was to prepare. In the next few weeks, he had to plan how best to find a hiding place and how to begin living with nothing but Tom, a new identity, and a lot of stolen equipment. Tom wanted to investigate the most important books remaining in the Hogwarts library. They would be able to take a lot of information with them in their last few days here, assuming they were prepared enough to steal it.

"I suspect the entire school will be distracted after Dumbledore's death," Tom explained calmly, standing near Harry in the cold dormitory, "which will give us a crucial opportunity to take information on Dark Arts without getting caught. Any death will scare the school deeply, leaving it weak."

Harry had to agree with this. The school was shaken badly by his and Draco's fight alone. The parents of various students were sending in concerned letters to Dumbledore daily, despite Narcissa Malfoy's eagerness to forget the entire situation. It was causing every student and teacher in Hogwarts to endure a slow, paralysing sense of foreboding.

"Snape will have left by that time, wouldn't he?" Harry asked Tom, the idea only just occurring to him. "I can't imagine him sticking around here much longer, even if Draco ends up being the one to kill Dumbledore. Too many people will suspect Snape."

"Yes," Tom said, "I believe you are right in expecting an outcome as such."

"It'll be great when that finally happens."

Tom's eyebrows rose in amusement. "I didn't know you looked forward to Dumbledore's death so avidly."

"No, that's not what I meant," Harry said quickly. "It's just, Snape's our biggest threat, isn't he? He knows what happened with Draco... I dunno how, but I think he fears I've learnt too much."

Tom thought about this. "He is rather suspicious."

"I don't know what he's playing at, keeping quiet about everything that's happened," Harry mused. "He must have realised I'm too good at Potions and too advanced in duelling magic for it to be normal... He must just think I've gone mad."

"Or he and Dumbledore suspect there is an interference."

Harry felt an odd knotting sensation in his stomach. He didn't like to think about them suspecting Tom's existence.

"However, I don't believe Dumbledore is particularly concerned," Tom then added.

Harry laughed coldly. "Yeah, I don't suppose it matters what I do, in his eyes. So long as I don't survive..."

Tom said nothing. Harry knew Tom had been watchful over the last few weeks, which was the closest reaction he could get to fear. He watched the minds of Harry's classmates and the changed behaviour of various teachers – Snape, mostly, but Slughorn too. Ever since the memory of Horcruxes has been revealed, Slughorn's adoration for Harry had weakened significantly.

"Snape's too powerful," Harry said in a low voice, looking out of the dormitory window just over Tom's shoulder. Harsh winds blew against the glass, but the sky was bright and full of sunshine Harry was missing.

"Do you fear him?" Tom asked.

Harry didn't want to give the answer to this question. He shifted uncomfortably. "It just makes me want to leave, right now. We're in a bit of a weak position at the moment, aren't we? If Snape found out what we knew, if he told Dumbledore..."

Tom didn't appear willing to contradict Harry's fears. He knew that it was the truth. "Running away now would only be more suspicious. We must wait."

"What does Dumbledore think?" Harry then asked, a pang of sorrow catching him, "that I'm a treat? That I'll turn bad? Or maybe I'm just a distraction... a part of a larger plan of his..."

"We cannot be sure which," Tom answered honestly.

Harry turned from the window, pained by this conversation. He decided he didn't want to talk about it at all. "Let's get out of here, anyway," he mumbled. "There's no point waiting round for someone to find us..."

Without comment, Tom followed Harry out of the dormitory. Late sunlight was pouring into the high windows of the Gryffindor Tower, illuminating the rooms in magnificent shades of crimson and gold. Very few students were still sitting inside and those who were were smiling amongst their small groups, enjoying their free time. All except two people, who were staring at Harry with uncomfortable, worried expressions.

Even if Harry hadn't wanted to, he would have had to face Ron and Hermione now. They were waiting for him to take a free armchair besides them, eager to talk. Harry drifted towards them, unsure whether he wanted to sit down. It surprised him that the three of them simultaneously wanted this meeting to happen. It was strength in the remains of their friendship, he supposed. Standing awkwardly by the chair, he spoke.

"I'm surprised you're not outside, enjoying the sun."

"We wanted to talk to you," Hermione said. Then, after a moment of thought, she added quietly, "I thought this was the only place we could find you."

Harry would have been slightly annoyed by this if it weren't for the sad, knowing look in her eyes. He looked away, discomforted. "You could have just sent Ron up to get me..."

"We know you too well, mate," Ron said. "You would have never listened to me."

"And what am I supposed to be listening to?"

Harry was annoyed now, without any real reason to be. He hated the way he acted towards Ron and Hermione, but he was at a loss of what else he could do.

"We wanted you to know we're here," Ron said.

"Really here," Hermione added, "for whenever you need us."

Harry broke.

"What, so this is you two making sure I won't keep quiet about it if I get in another fight with Malfoy?" he asked. "This is you two – I dunno – joining into with the rest of the school, thinking I've lost it?"

"We didn't mean-"

"Then don't start acting like you mean it!" Harry said furiously. "Don't sit there and act like I'm some nutter when you won't even listen to what happened!"

He had annoyed them, he knew. Ron's face contorted into a look of disbelief and indignation, but after a low hiss from Hermione and a scared, warning look, he stopped. Ron and Hermione shared a look Harry hated to witness. He had shouted at them for nothing and they were terrified.

Hermione turned back to Harry slowly, Ron following her lead. She was trying to treat Harry with caution and compassion but it made Harry want nothing more than to never see her again. Her voice was quiet when she spoke, lest the staring Gryffindors around them should hear the entire conversation.

"I don't want you to feel alone," she said. "Ron and I are – well, we're here, like always."

"I'm not alone," Harry said bluntly, "I'm-"

He stopped. He had forgotten, for a moment, that Ron and Hermione couldn't see Tom standing patiently besides him.

"You're what?" Ron asked him.

"Er, I'm – I'm sort of..."

Harry couldn't think of a convincing lie, least of all quickly. To his surprise, however, Hermione's posture changed. She thought deeply for a few seconds before asking, "Are you seeing someone?"

Her words made Harry pale. His throat suddenly dried up and his pulse quickened. More than ever, he couldn't find his voice.

"Who is she?" Hermione asked suddenly, a smile brightening her face at once. "Someone in our year?"

"Er..."

Hermione was referring to a love interest, not the strange, unexplainable ghost Harry was 'seeing'. For the first few seconds, Harry wondered how he could be so stupid.

"You simply have to tell us!" Hermione persisted happily

"No, I..."

"Give him a break," Ron told Hermione lightly. Both of their moods seemed to be lifted dramatically, as though the idea of Harry having a girlfriend explained all of the awful events that had happened recently. It was a relief to them. "He deserves some privacy."

"Oh, alright... but you'll tell us soon, won't you, Harry?"

"Er, I guess..."

"You shouldn't be reluctant, mate," Ron told him. "It's great if you're seeing someone! Well, so long as it isn't Cho again -"

"Ron!"

"What? I'm just saying!"

Hermione didn't seem all that serious, either way. Since they appeared to be in far better moods now and since Harry didn't want to be bothered anymore about what he hadn't told Ron and Hermione, he decided now was a good time to leave. They were only amused further by the idea of Harry wandering off to a secret place when he said he had to go, so they let him leave without much thought.

Harry was in a state of stress and uneasiness. As soon as he left the Gryffindor Tower, he headed for the nearest classroom with Tom. He wished he hadn't talked to either of his old friends.

"What am I supposed to do now?" he asked desperately. "I don't have a girlfriend. If Ron and Hermione manage to work that out, they'll be more worried than ever that I spend so much time alone!"

"You needn't stress over the idea," Tom said softly. "It is only a few weeks before the school year ends."

"They'll expect to meet my 'girlfriend' by then, won't they?"

"Perhaps."

Harry bit his lips, wishing there was a way to stop Ron and Hermione making mad theories like this. He needed a plan. He began thinking aloud. "The only safe solution is to go find someone to date before they find out I have no one..."

"That seems to be another tiresome distraction," Tom mused. "Between your detentions with Snape, your classes, Quidditch practice, and dealing with other students, we'll have no time to learn more magic."

"But this will give us time," Harry pointed out. "If I pretend to spend time with whoever I'm dating, I can go practice magic with you instead. I'll only have one person to lie to then – my girlfriend."

Tom straightened up where he sat, interested for the first time.

"That might indeed be simpler," he said, his eyes wide. "It would be an excuse for you to go missing at any time – even the teachers would drop their suspicions! By using one girl as a smokescreen, we wouldn't have a single problem! It's perfect!"

Harry was relieved that he had found a solution, until a thought struck him. "I dunno who I'd date, though. Everyone thinks I'm mad."

"Find someone who craves the attention," Tom suggested. "Those sort of people are far too easy to manipulate."

"But," Harry said slowly, "I don't really want to date just anyone. I mean, I don't want to lie to a girl I'm dating."

Tom didn't seem to believe it for a moment. "It'll fix all of our problems."

Harry shook his head. "No, I'm not sure, really... It's too cruel, to do that to someone."

"You needn't start a serious relationship," Tom said. "This is the best possible solution, Harry. If you were to reach a mutual agreement to date someone until the end of the year, we would not have a single problem to stall our progress in protecting ourselves!"

"I suppose," Harry agreed bluntly, not really interested in the idea. He thought that if he mulled it over for a few days, he might be able to come up with a better solution. What made him most quiet, however, and most worried wasn't the fact that he'd be hurting someone by entering a fake relationship, but rather he'd be losing his ability to get closer to Tom...

They didn't talk about it much over the next few days, but Tom was clearly gleeful that they had found such a simple escape from the schools' prying eyes. Harry spent hours thinking about how he could come up with a better plan than finding a fake girlfriend, but he came up with no new solutions. He was clambering blindly through the portrait hole one evening, on his way to the Common Room, when he found himself in a situation he couldn't turn back from. He stumbled in the darkness, knocking into no one other than Ginny Weasley.

"Oh, sorry – sorry, I didn't see you!" Harry stammered. He had just manged to avoid crashing into her completely, his face burning crimson. "I was – er – distracted..."

Tom gave a hum of laughter next to him, which Ginny couldn't possibly hear. He had been talking to Harry moments ago about the Dark Arts, confusing him with an overload of information.

"It's alright," Ginny told him calmly. "I was just looking for you, anyway. I wanted to have a word."

"About what?"

"It's a bit odd, actually," she began, her expression somewhere between scepticism and amusement. "Hermione's been asking me a lot of odd questions and I'm wondering what you've been saying about me to make her suddenly so interested."

"Interested?" Harry repeated. "In what?"

"Who I'm dating."

"Oh..."

Harry was somewhat bewildered by this. He didn't know what Hermione had been saying and he was confused by the look of expectancy and amusement in Ginny's eyes. Had Hermione asked Ginny if she was dating Harry?

Harry had an odd, painful suspicion that Ginny still liked him after all these years. The idea stuck to him and distracted him for a time because he realised, with dread, that Ginny was the perfect person for him to date. Tom, he suspected, knew this too.

They had known each other for years, they had fought alongside each other – it was a relationship interesting enough to keep the school blindly amused, so Harry could practice magic with Tom. It would take longer than a few weeks for Ginny to figure out he was missing and why. Even the fact that Ginny was Ron's sister would be helpful here – it gave Harry a reason for not telling Ron and Hermione sooner...

"You're not dating anyone at the moment though, are you?" Harry asked slowly. He realised how important it was to stay calm, but waves of nerves and fear passed over him, making his words mumbled and faint.

"Not after Dean, no. I'm not really interested in seeing just anyone."

"Right," Harry said, finding it odd that he had used the same words earlier. "Well, er, it must be a bit dull after all that..."

He had no idea what he was saying. He was torn between how perfect dating Ginny would be and how cruel it would be to use her like that.

"Actually, it was quite a relief," Ginny admitted. "Dean and I didn't get along well, towards the end."

Harry realised for the first time that Ginny was talking to him normally - actually normally. That was something he had missed out on ever since his duel against Draco. Only Tom ever spoke to him like a person, now. It worsened both of Harry's struggles: it'd be easier to date her, yet harder to lie to her if she of all people understood him...

Then, Harry felt it. His muscles began relaxing and moving on their own, making him look up at Ginny. His thoughts were cut off cleanly, as if a series of strings had been brought to a knife. Tom had possessed him. It was in a movement so quick that Ginny would have missed it, but Harry was shocked. They were waiting for Ginny's brown eyes to meet his own. When they did, Harry spoke.

"If you wanted," he said softly, "we could meet up at Hogsmeade this weekend. Just the two of us."

Ginny stared at him for a moment, surprised. Slowly, she asked, "As friends?"

"Whichever you want," he responded slyly.

As soon as he was forced to say it, he knew he had done something right. Ginny was smiling at him softly, gazing at him with a look of lighthearted satisfaction.

"Alright," she said, smiling. "I suppose I'll meet you there, then. It'll be a good last trip to Hogsmeade..."

With that, she left, casting Harry one last lingering glance. Harry watched her head out onto the corridor, disappearing in seconds. The further away she got, the more his grin slipped away. He forced Tom out of his mind, turning to face him at once.

"What was that?" he demanded in a hiss.

Tom pursed his lips, hiding a smile. "I thought I might help you."

"You can't just do that!" Harry exclaimed. "I don't want to use her like that!"

"You certainly seemed interested in the idea," Tom said. "I could sense you were evaluating whether or not she was a suitable girl to distract the school with. Since I came to a positive conclusion, I saw no use in waiting."

"And what about my opinions?" Harry asked. "If I wanted to date her, I would have asked her!"

"No," Tom said, shaking his head, "this isn't about who you want to be with. This is for convenience; Ginny Weasley is a perfect distraction."

Harry gritted his teeth irritably. He decided he didn't want to have this hissed conversation out in the open, so he headed into the Common Room. The place was empty. He strolled over to his usual seat by the fire, being followed by Tom, who sat on a couch next to him.

"You needn't be angry with me," Tom told him. "I was helping you."

"That isn't helping. That's forcing me into a relationship with someone I don't even like."

"You could have resisted the possession."

Harry wished he had. "I didn't know what you were doing," he explained. "I trusted you..."

These words may have had no affect on Tom, but it filled Harry with a sense of pained irritation.

If he dated Ginny now, the relationship would last a few weeks and she would start to become attached. Tom believed their safety and secrecy was more important than the ache of one broken heart, but Harry already felt immensely guilty about hurting Ginny; it was a step too far. He hadn't even had the courage to ask her out on a date himself, which made him feel as if his crime towards her would be even crueller, even more sickening...

Tom was calm, even bored, by all this. Did he not care if Harry became close to someone else? Was he eager to get rid of Harry, perhaps after changing his mind about a few things? There was no real knowing. Harry struggled for a moment to accept an odd sense of rejection. Something in his expression caught Tom's interest.

"You don't care about her, do you?" he asked.

"Why would I care about her? She's Ron's sister. We aren't close."

"Then why do you care? I sense dejection."

Harry dropped his gaze. This was something he felt Tom would never understand. He wasn't in love with Ginny, but he felt a huge amount of respect for her after years of being impressed by her dedication. They had fought alongside each other against Death Eaters, they had won Quidditch matches together... it would be a poor repayment to break her heart for his own gain.

"I don't want to do this," Harry said. "Not to stop Snape, or Dumbledore, or anyone else bothering us... I should end it now, before it gets too far."

Tom saw through his excuse, doubtlessly. He thought about it for a while. The Common Room was silent beyond the sound of crackling fire and winds brushing against the tall windows. Harry could feel Tom's eyes on him. He didn't look up.

"We cannot be together in that way," Tom said.

His voice was low, his tone gentle. Harry pulled at a loose thread on the couch he sat on, his brow furrowed. He said nothing.

"It's the reason you're acting like this, isn't it?" Tom asked. "I'm not easily fooled."

"I'm not trying to fool you..."

Tom gave a hum of laughter, as if the idea of someone trying to trick him was amusing. He became serious again after only a few seconds of viewing Harry's despondent expression.

"This will solve all of our problems, Harry."

"That doesn't make me feel better about it... I don't want a relationship like that."

"What other type of relationship do you desire? Or expect? Even if you did not have to date someone else, we could not realistically be together."

"It'd be more real than faking a relationship with Ginny Weasley. It'd be realer -"

"No," Tom said, "you're mistaken."

"You're here though, aren't you?" Harry asked. He looked up at Tom for the first time, focusing on every detail, as if he expected to see some small imperfection to suggest he wasn't whole. It was Tom's movements, his acts of subtle life, that made Harry truly believe he was there. "It's just -"

He reached out a hand to take Tom's, only to find he wasn't there. He wished he hadn't tried – he didn't know what he had expected. He took in a deep breath, looking away just as he felt it; Tom took his hand instead. Tom was able to hold him. It tortured Harry to feel their fingers intwine.

"What is this about?" he asked quietly, mildly irritated by his inability to work it out himself. "Why can you do that when I can't – I can't feel you..."

"I am not whole," Tom explained.

"But you can do this – you can be almost completely here."

"Yet you cannot hold my hand," Tom observed. "You cannot feel me."

"That doesn't make sense," Harry said. "You can hold my hand whenever we have magic to spare..."

"And what does that tell you?"

Tom's hands were cold, but the look in his eyes was compassionate. He appeared to be waiting patiently for Harry to work everything out. It unnerved Harry greatly, making him pause. He found the answer.

"You need magic to hold my hand?"

"Yes."

"Which means... this is the result of magic, isn't it?"

Tom inclined his head. He appeared serious, almost saddened.

"So... I can't touch you, because you're not real..."

"I am real," Tom said softly. "I am another being, bond to you... but I lack a body."

"So all of this, everything I'm seeing and feeling from you -"

"Is the result of magic, yes."

Harry didn't know what to think of this. Tom sat before him, as clear as any other person might be. Harry was confused and was tired of being confused. Perhaps noticing this, Tom decided to explain it.

"It works by magic dealing with your brain and your perception of reality," Tom explained. "I am an illusion; the sight of me and sounds you hear from me – even the feelings you have when I touch you – are hallucinations. I control them because I am not you."

Harry felt himself pale. He was alarmed for the first time – not only by this information, but by Tom's willingness to admit everything. "You're – you're not here then?"

"I am a soul..."

Harry wanted to say something, to ask more, but he felt like he understood. Tom was a spirit, not a person. It explained why Tom needed so much of their magic; it was far easier to meddle with Harry's perception and appear entirely in a hallucination than it was to use huge amounts of magic to become a real being. With this magic, Tom instead appeared so vividly that even his expressions changed. He looked defeated.

"This is why we cannot be together..."

Harry shook his head, confused. "But I know you're here. We can still be together as long as I can see you. As long as I can hear and understand you, it -"

"It isn't enough," Tom said. "It would be best if I were to gain a real body, because all of this..."

He squeezed Harry's hand lightly, looking down at it.

"...isn't enough."

That was something Harry couldn't argue with. It suddenly felt a lot less enthralling to know that everything was an illusion, a trick. It was disappointing magic, Harry felt, like Muggles were used to. He wished it wasn't true.

"I can feel you," he said again, as if he feared to be contradicted. "You're here..."

To soothe Harry's fear, Tom reached out a hand to cup his face gently. He smiled when he saw Harry blush. His touch felt as real as anything; Harry closed his eyes. He tried to comprehend whether Tom's soul was viewing all of this through his own brain or through a different level of being. He wondered whether it was his own expectations or Tom's choices that made his expression so calming...

Tom was close to him, now. If he had been real, Harry would have closed the distance between them. He would find nothing there if he tried to kiss Tom now. Tom's smile faded after a few moments, perhaps seeing the desire in his Harry's open eyes. He was searching for something in Harry's expression, deciding something. Harry knew he was thinking better, now, of getting close. He removed his hands gently, sitting up straighter on the couch.

Harry wanted to ask Tom again how he could get a new body, but a few things stopped him. He realised Tom wouldn't talk about it because he probably couldn't explain it easily. If he could, he would have done it already – they would already be making plans. A small detail was clearly stopping Tom. It flooded Harry with unease, making him feel that he'd rather not know too much about it so soon. So he stayed silent, telling himself he would bring the subject up again when the right time presented itself.

– X –

That weekend, Harry met up with Ginny in Hogsmeade as planned. The day wasn't a complete disaster, but he barely spoke at first due to his nerves, making Ginny lead most of their conversations. She was patient, as if she understood why he was so distant. It calmed Harry down a lot, but the more they spoke normally, the more he felt like a friend to her rather than a love interest. He didn't know how to feel about it.

By the time night fell, they headed back to Hogwarts and continued to talk in the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry genuinely enjoyed Ginny's company and more than a few times during the night, they joked about things and talked about ideas so deeply that he forgot about his more pressing, more important problems. He forgot about Snape, Dumbledore, Malfoy, and the fear the entire school felt towards him. He forgot about Voldemort and the Death Eaters, and Ron and Hermione. He was calm again for moments at a time.

When Ginny left for bed, Harry had a short conversation with Tom. They didn't have all that much to say to each other. Tom was enthralled by the way things were going and by the fact that Ginny had arranged another date. He didn't listen to it when Harry mentioned Ginny was better off as his friend – he seemed to not believe it. Harry went to bed soon after this, not wanting to be left with his own thoughts.

Ginny had decided to arrange a date with Harry over the weekend, after Quidditch practice. It was an hour before Harry had to endure another detention with Snape, so he tried his best to enjoy this free time, watching the crimson, setting sun fall between the mountains beyond Hogwarts Castle. They sat beneath a large oak tree, watching the view and talking about anything that came to mind.

Harry was vacillating between moments of extreme calmness and extreme guilt for feeling that way. If Ginny noticed his odd behaviour, she neither commented on it nor showed any signs of outward confusion. Harry was endlessly grateful of her patience and strength. She took no offence to his quiet, worried nature; it never unsettled her.

She was, in fact, more levelheaded than Harry had first supposed possible. After working out his behaviour wholly, she realised she had to be brave and adamant about her enthusiasm for them to be together. She understood him and they spoke openly to each other – as openly as Harry could. When Ginny took Harry's hand to hold, smiling softly, Harry's reluctance lasted only a second. It felt natural, calming.

"Are you alright?" she asked him curiously, tearing her eyes from the darkening sunset.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Harry answered automatically.

She was staring at him seriously, as if she knew. "The whole of Hogwarts thinks you're mad. Anyone would be upset about that."

"Yeah, well..."

"It's all nonsense, anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"All of this 'worry' about you." She shook her head, her brown eyes closing in annoyance for a moment. "Most people just love the drama, it's something for them to talk about. Give it another week and everyone will have forgotten about it."

"I hope so," Harry said truthfully.

"I know so." She smiled lightheartedly. "With how much the school talks about you, no one's going to believe every story that's brought up. Mad stories about you are always circling around the school."

"Really?"

"Yes, but you can tell which ones are rubbish. After you realise that no single student could survive an attack of seventy fully-grown Vampires or keep a Dragon hidden in a Muggle residence in London, you start to really doubt similar stories people tell."

Harry sighed, knowing that much worse things were said about him. "You're probably the only person who bothers doubting it, though."

"I don't think that's true."

"How isn't it? I'm just a joke to people, or a threat. Any new stories about me are instantly spread around the school."

"But no one who actually knows you believes any of it," Ginny assured him. "You think I don't defend you in my classes, or back in the Common Room, or out on the Quidditch pitch? You think our old DA members don't doubt it when other students question your sanity as much as they all questioned Dumbledore's last year?"

Harry dropped his gaze, hating the reminder of Dumbledore.

"No one actually fears you, Harry. Other students just find it amusing to gossip about you because they have nothing better to do. There are plenty of people who will stay by your side, the whole of Dumbledore's Army included."

"Dumbledore's Army is over," Harry reminded her. "For all I know, everyone could have moved on to hate me like the rest of the school does. They could all be – I dunno – plotting revenge or spreading rumours or something."

"I can't imagine Luna Lovegood starting a hateful society up against you, somehow."

Harry smiled at this. He imaged Luna standing before a table in the Great Hall, handing out badges depicting a drawing of him being repetitively defeated by unidentifiable, unknown magical creatures.

"They could be called S.H.E.E.P," Ginny suggested with a laugh, "the 'Society for Hating Everything, Especially Potter'."

"That club has existed for a while," Harry told her.

"True, I suppose," she said, her eyes alight with humour. "Malfoy has been at Hogwarts for a fair for years. Luna would run a new 'S.H.E.E.P.' club: the 'Society of Hypocrites Eagerly Enraging Potter'. We'd get free coins at every meeting that spin whenever you're less than a corridor away."

Despite the truth behind some students' distaste, Harry found himself laughing. He wondered if the DA members did truly respect him when he wasn't around. He wondered if they still talked about last year and whether any friends made during the formation of DA still remained. He hadn't been in-touch enough with people to know. It made him feel strangely lonely.

The sun had set and cold winds had begun surrounding Harry and Ginny, coming from the distant treetops of the Forbidden Forest. Ginny's palm softly pressed against his own was soon the only warmth Harry felt, so they were forced to leave for the Castle. Their pace slowed significantly when they passed through the oak front doors. Ginny's hand remained clasped around Harry's gently, leading him onwards as they talked.

Up more staircases and through many corridors and passages, it was pleasant to walk through the school and take in every detail of it. Harry enjoyed seeing how Ginny made her way through the castle, noticing the influence Fred and George had had on her knowledge of secret passages. They were on the Seventh Floor, nearing the Common Room, when Ginny stopped midway through a corridor.

"It's just down here," Harry said, indicating the path as if she had forgotten.

"I know."

He stared for a moment, confused. "Why are we stopping?"

Ginny smirked, looking away for a moment. "I wanted you to know, I enjoyed spending so much time with you today."

For a moment, Harry liked hearing this. She noticed it when guilt then caught up with him, but she said nothing.

"I enjoyed it too," her told her quietly.

She smiled again. Then, before Harry knew it, she stepped forwards. Harry watched her numbly, feeling her hand squeeze his gently just as she leant in, pressing her lips to his. It was a gentle kiss, but anything more would have alarmed Harry too much. Ginny looked at him closely when they parted, her eyes full of contentment. She moved away from him gracefully, her hand slipping from his waist.

"We should go out again," she said. "Maybe meet up in the library, tomorrow? If you're free."

"Yeah," he agreed without thinking. He planned to think of an excuse by tomorrow. "That'd be good..."

Not needing to say a word more, they headed to the Fat Lady down the corridor. Although Ginny was mature about it, Harry supposed this was only because her enjoyment for the evening wasn't tainted by horrid thoughts. As they entered the Common Room, he thought about his betrayal. He thought about the importance of surviving compared to the importance of not hurting other people...

He didn't have any idea what he was doing, nor what to do to make things right. All he knew was that it would be totally possible to fake a relationship with Ginny. All he had to do was give her a few white lies without breaking down under guilt first...

– X –

Before Harry found a way to avoid it, he was dating Ginny Weasley. That is to say, he was seeing her often enough and becoming close enough to her that suspicions were beginning to raise amongst the closest students to them. Their relationship was calm and sweet, because Ginny believed Harry was shy. She had no idea that he was running off into the castle for hours on end to learn complicated, dark magic in self-defence. She was treating him more kindly than he deserved, torturing him further.

Harry hid his sorrows from her, naturally. This, as well as practising new magic with Tom, forced Harry to focus on important things in his free time, pushing away all his bad feelings. He spent so much time pretending to be alright that he forgot about his fearfulness quite often. The only time he brooded, the only time he felt truly terrible, is when he lay awake at night, safe in the knowledge that no one was around.

Harry wished he hadn't chosen Ginny to date. He wished he had used someone new, someone he had had no previous connection to, because the fact remained that he did care about her on some level. When she helped him, when she knew exactly what to do to calm him down, sorrow tightened its hold on him in spite. He refused to get too close to her too often. It was too much to take.

He hoped she didn't take offence to the way he acted. He respected Ginny and admired her on many levels, but every time their lips met, every time she held his hand, he thought about Tom. It wasn't that he wasn't attracted to her, because he realised that he felt comfortable affection for her, too, in that way. He just knew that this relationship was the greatest betrayal of all to her.

Tom seemed to be unaffected by everything going on. When Harry mentioned his relationship with Ginny, Tom spoke of it like an idea, like a mechanical arrangement. It pained Harry to think Tom didn't feel anything towards him. If he showed just a moment of dissatisfaction, a moment of jealousy, Harry would relax. But no moments ever occurred. Harry was forced to conclude that Tom regretted ever getting close to him, even if he didn't know why.

As time began to pass and Harry's melancholy worsened, Ginny began to realise he was too distant and reluctant to be perfectly happy. She didn't speak about her suspicions at first, but Harry began to see a change in her behaviour. She was more cautious, more calculating. There was only so much patience she could have before she looked into it directly.

"Where have you been going, lately?" she asked him suspiciously one night. He had just declined an offer to eat dinner with her in the Great Hall before finding a secluded corridor to talk in. "You've been going missing for hours at a time. I know you don't have classes, nor detention, and you haven't been around any of your friends."

"I've been studying," he said quickly. "I don't want to fall behind on work."

"Your grades are great at the moment," she observed. "You don't need to study that much. It's not like you have N.E.W.T.s this year."

"I still need to study. I need to get loads of work done -"

"It's almost the end of the year."

"Exactly!"

She shook hear head, her expression serious. "Why don't you want to spend more time with me?"

"What?" Harry asked quickly. His heart sank. "No, it's not like that -"

"I'm not that thick. I know you're not all that interested."

"Why – why do you think that?"

She laughed in disbelief. It wasn't a cruel response, it was to hide her discomfort. "I'm not stupid."

"I never said you were."

"You act like I am."

She was glaring lightly now, clearly rethinking quite a few things. Harry regretted faking this relationship for a new reason in that moment; she would seek revenge on him using her, surely. He hated knowing that she'd think so badly of him.

"So, where do you go when you disappear?" she asked sourly.

"To study. I have too much work."

This annoyed her further. She knew it was a lie and she wasn't pleased to hear him repeat it.

"If you don't want to tell me, then don't. I just hope you know what you're doing..."

She stood up, turning away.

"No, wait! Ginny -"

It was too late, she was walking away. Harry jumped up.

"Don't do this – I don't mean to offend you!"

She didn't look back. Irritated and anxious, Harry watched her disappear around a corner.

He knew she had figured it out and she wasn't interested in hearing him lie again. It was a painful realisation, one accompanied by a certain amount of dread. Despite Tom's confidence in the idea that it'd take weeks for Ginny to figure out the situation, she had seen a fault in Harry's eagerness to date her. She had noticed his disappearances and she was never going to stop thinking about it...

Harry didn't want to make up bigger lies to get through this, but he couldn't stop any of his lessons with Tom. They were getting so much work done, it would be a complete waste to cut off the few hours they had to practice each day. As Ginny walked away, Harry realised this had to end soon. Tom appeared almost the moment this thought popped into his head. He was confused by Harry's discomfort. They headed into an empty classroom.

"That's it," Harry said flatly, a storm of emotions raging within him, "I'm going to tell her it's over."

"Why would you do that?" Tom asked, confused. He watched Harry pace back and forth, his brown furrowed.

"I can't do this," Harry told him, "I can't treat the people I know – the people I care about the most – with so much dishonesty..."

"You know why we must do this, Harry," Tom said clearly. "You know what might happen if the school notices your disappearances."

"But if things carry on like this, Ginny's going to figure out everything on her own. She's not an idiot, Tom, she's already suspicious."

"It is natural to be paranoid, Harry -"

"I'm not being paranoid!"

"- but hiding the truth from one girl is far more convenient, far more manageable, than tricking an entire school."

Harry knew Tom was right about that, but he refused to admit it. Stress gripped him wholly, lessening his ability to think straight.

"There are far more important things for us to worry about than the heart of one girl or the blind, ignorant assumptions of nearby students," Tom added.

"But I can't live like this, Tom. I can't keep hurting her!"

"Why are you so reluctant to complete this simple task?" Tom asked, sounding weary for the first time. "Why do you relentlessly oppose this relationship with Ginny Weasley, despite the many promising results – such as being saved from from death itself?"

Harry looked away, annoyed. He wished Tom could understand this more easily. His eagerness to let this fake relationship with Ginny happen made Harry fear Tom had lied to him in the past, and as a result he broke instantly, indignation twisting his expression into a scowl.

"I'm not you, Tom," he said coldly. "I can't fake a romantic interest to manipulate people for my own gain..."

Tom stared, stunned. His eyes narrowed.

"Is that what this is about?" he asked. "You believe me to be guilty of using you?"

Harry looked away again, saying nothing. Tom took this as a 'yes'.

"I never manipulated you," he said firmly. "I never so much as tried to mislead you – you know this!"

"I don't believe it..."

"Can you not see how allowing you to form a false relationship with Ginny Weasley has allowed us both to stay undetected by Dumbledore? This is more than a fair price for our freedom. This is about staying alive, Harry!"

There were too much of a chance that Tom could be lying about all of this, Harry felt. He wished he could leave Tom in this deserted classroom. He wasn't prepared for this...

"If you feel like I have lied to you about what I am, about what I am capable of doing, know that my offence was unintentional," Tom said. "I have told you as much of the truth as I can, concerning everything. You know this..."

Harry wanted to believe this, but it wasn't enough. He knew a few things didn't add up.

"Why wouldn't you just be with me, if you wanted to?" he asked. "If you can..."

Tom did not answer immediately. He became very still, lost in thought. "Because I cannot be with you, truly..."

"What if you could?" Harry asked. "What if you gained a body?"

Tom's eyes, however unreal, lit up for a fleeting moment. He seemed surprised to hear Harry suggest that he could indeed become human again, until the stunned hope dimmed within him. He shook his head gently, turning his burning red eyes away.

"That would be most troublesome..."

"Why?" Harry pressed. "How can you gain a body?"

Tom was reluctant to speak. He rarely looked away from Harry as often as he did now.

"Please tell me," Harry urged. "I don't care how complicated it is or – or how mad it sounds. I'd rather know the truth."

"The truth is not always kind..."

"You think I don't know that?"

Tom might not have heard him. He wasn't glad to have this conversation; he became submerged in thought. Harry said nothing, waiting for him to talk. He knew he would; his hopes rose when Tom straightened up, his solemn expression never changing.

"In honesty," he began quietly, "I cannot be sure whether or not obtaining a body is possible through the process I intend to use... Even as a soul, I am in a unique position. I am bound to you, yet I wish to gain a new body. I have devised a plan to become whole again, yet the magic I intend to use is experimental, and dangerous to say the least. The process would be long and tedious at times, thus it would require preparations and a certain degree of persistence to work..."

"How would we start?"

"We would begin by obtaining a large amount of magic. Specifically, magic from another witch or wizard."

Harry was surprised. "You can do that?"

"Yes, but it is difficult. We may even be forced to take the magic of several wizards, depending on how much of our own magic we can spare on completing the spells and enchantments required to animate a new body."

"Right... So, how are we supposed to take peoples' magic without them realising it?"

"We must obtain all the remaining energy and life from a witch or wizard prior to their death. I'll move into their body, stealing their magic with the aid of our own."

Harry was bewildered. "How are we meant to find a dying witch or wizard to start this with? We can't exactly walk into St Mungo's and demand a patient to experiment on."

"No, that would be foolish," Tom said. "A sick person would never do – their energy would be low, their magic: nonexistent."

"So, what do we do? If we can't use a sick person, then..."

Harry stopped. The answer found him suddenly, making him pause. Blood drained from his face.

"Unless... Unless we find a healthy person..."

"Preferably a young, strong witch or wizard," Tom added, ignorant of Harry's sudden fear. "Assuming we kill them quickly, we can obtain a satisfactory amount of magic for our own use."

Harry felt as if he might be sick from the shock alone. More thoughts clouded him.

"We – we have to kill someone?"

Tom watched him for a moment, before inclining his head silently.

"That's why you wanted me to leave Malfoy, isn't it?" Harry asked in a low voice. "After that spell I used, when he was bleeding. You wanted to steal his life..."

Tom had clearly noticed Harry's odd behaviour, now. He thought about it for a fleeting moment. "Does that alarm you?"

Anger gripped Harry immediately. "Does that-? Of course it alarms me, Tom!"

Tom was annoyed too for the first time. "Why? You are no foreigner to such sacrifices, Harry."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You have killed before," Tom said. "When you were young. In your first year here at Hogwarts."

"What?"

This amused Tom, making him smile through his irritation. "Have you forgotten about Quirrell, your first Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

For a moment, Harry was stunned into speechlessness. He froze up.

"It is shocking," Tom carried on in a slow, cruel tone, "to see how easily Dumbledore has forced the school to forget about your kill... but it is more impressive still to see how fully he has fooled you."

"He never fooled me," Harry said irritably, "I knew what I was doing."

"Are you quite sure?"

"Quirrell would have killed thousands of people for Voldemort, he was insane!"

"Does that make murder easier to accept?"

"I'm not a murderer!"

"You took the life of a man at the age of eleven. You condemned the Dementor's Kiss on Peter Pettigrew at the age of thirteen. Do you really believe these are not acts of murder?"

Harry wanted to be angry, but there was nothing he could say. He felt like Tom was twisting stories, twisting words, but he couldn't honestly see how.

"Dumbledore is a coward, like many who fear the Dark Arts," Tom carried on. "Too many weak leaders have taught their followers not that it is wrong to kill, but that it is wrong to kill inconveniently... If you are opposed to murder, if you believe it is a wicked act if not committed only in revenge, remember this: nobody is innocent. All murderers believe they are right, but only some of them have governments and mass amounts of people cheering them on..."

"Quirrel wasn't innocent," Harry said, his head spinning. "I'm not a murderer – I would never kill anyone who doesn't deserve it! Nor would Dumbledore, or anyone else who opposes the Dark Arts!"

Tom was surprised. "Have you forgotten what Dumbledore told Snape? Have you forgotten their arrangement, their agreement to kill you?"

Anger and anxiety tore at Harry's chest. He had indeed forgotten about that...

"It's in your nature to kill, Harry," Tom said softly.

"You're wrong..."

"The world is going to want you dead in a matter of months. Dumbledore has betrayed you. Your friends have neglected you... Please don't be so ignorant as to hold onto the lies Dumbledore has fed you. He did not want you to survive. He never prepared you for the real world, where you will be forced to kill or be killed. This is war..."

Harry's heart was pounding in his chest, making him feel weak. He knew he wouldn't stand a chance fighting for himself. He knew he didn't have much time left. The room was spinning.

"I... I'll need you there for me..."

Tom may have been watching him, but Harry didn't look up.

"I know," he said.

It was inevitable, Harry realised, that murder would happen again. He decided to make a deal.

"If we need to take somebody's magic, if we need to – to kill them... I refuse to kill any innocent person."

"If this is your only request, I cannot object..."

"How does it work? How can you even steal magic?"

"I must take control of another person's body. I must absorb their energy while they die."

"And you steal their body?"

"No. I shall store their energy in you to later create a body."

"From what it sounds like... you'll attach yourself on someone else's body, like with mine now."

"Yes."

"Is that – is that what you've been doing to me, then?"

Tom watched him closely. "I'm not stealing your energy."

"But you could... you could steal my body. You could kill me and take over if you wanted to, couldn't you?"

He didn't bother lying. With a nod, he said, "Yes."

This was all too much to take. Harry's stomach was squirming. "But you chose not to... Why did you chose not to?"

Tom frowned. "Is the answer not obvious?"

"No..."

Tom seemed unsure whether or not to believe this. "I cared about you. I couldn't let you go."

They stood very still for a moment, watching each other as if they expected the other to react badly. The weight of these words was so heavy that neither of them were willing to pick the conversation up again. Harry didn't know if Tom's reaction was sincere, but a soft expression crossed his face. It was terrible to think that at any moment, Tom could choose to take over Harry's body instead...

For a day, Harry was paranoid. He was wary of Tom's power and his ability to manipulate people for his own gain and he panicked deeply about what he could do. It wasn't until he remembered his other foes that he trusted Tom again. He remembered that Dumbledore and Voldemort would readily kill him if they had a chance like this, so why would Tom wait, if he felt the same as them?

If Tom got a body, Harry would feel safe. They could fight alongside each other to ensure that neither Dumbledore nor Voldemort got what they truly wanted...

– X –

"What's distracting you?"

This had to be the fifteenth time Ginny had asked him that this evening. Harry suppressed the urge to snap at her, closing his eyes irritably for a few seconds. "Nothing's distracting me," he told her. "I just have a lot of work to catch up on, that's all."

She didn't believe it. It was as if she either knew the situation more clearly than she was letting on or she could read Harry's mind, but Occlumency didn't work against her. Some innate ability gave her a warning every time someone dared to tell a lie. She pursed her lips, reminding Harry of Mrs Weasley instantly.

"You keep saying that, but I can't understand how you could have this much work to do."

"You haven't tried studying for NEWTs, then."

"And I'm not looking forwards to it."

Harry said nothing to this, distracted by his potions essay.

"You don't spend any time with me," Ginny mentioned.

"Look, we've both been busy," Harry reminded her. "That doesn't mean I don't want to spend time with you. I just can't fall behind on work for it."

She was annoyed by his severity. "Since when did you become Hermione?"

"Since when did you last have responsibilities?"

She glared at him, furious now. "You can't talk to me like that!"

"Watch me..."

Harry didn't know whether he was doing this out of real anger towards her or whether some part of him just understood this relationship wasn't right. He felt guilty, either way. As outraged as she was, she seemed to notice his guilt.

She studied him for a moment, her eyes darting across his face. "You're exhausting yourself."

"I just have a lot to deal with right now..."

She shook her head, as if this answer wasn't enough. "No, that's not all."

Harry was silent. He waited for her to talk, unsure what she was feeling.

"You're stressed," she said quietly. "There's something wrong, isn't there? Something more than school?"

Harry dropped his gaze. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped.

This, apparently, was the wrong response. Ginny immediately saw it as a bad sign; Harry could see worry flood through her. "What's happened?"

"Nothing," he said, sounding bothered.

"Something's changed," she said.

"Really, Ginny, just leave it -"

"No! I know something's gone wrong. Is this about Voldemort?"

Harry's mouth was suddenly very dry. "I don't know what you're on about..."

"You've been distant for months, you haven't spoken a word about what you're going through – please just explain it to me."

"There's nothing to explain."

"You haven't even told us what happened between you and Malfoy. You're hiding everything."

"Who's 'us'?" Harry asked, annoyed. "Ron and Hermione aren't a part of this."

"They're worried about you."

"Well, tough."

She stared at him. "Don't you care? They're your best friends."

Harry was mute. He wished they'd just leave him alone.

"What happened with Malfoy?"

Harry stood up. This conversation was too dangerous.

Ginny stood up too, advancing. "I know something's happened, Harry. Whatever it is, you clearly can't deal with it on your own. You're scaring everyone, you're refusing to talk – the least you can do is explain why."

"Leave it..."

She stared at him, at a loss for words. Harry looked back at her for the first time properly, worrying that she was too smart for him to fool. She was dangerous not because she was a snitch, but because she knew the pain he was going through. She knew what it was like to become entranced by Tom. In this moment, Harry saw memories of him cross her mind.

"Harry," she said in a low voice, "don't shut me out..."

There was no way she could realistically guess that he was seeing Tom, but Harry was tremendously paranoid about it nonetheless. It was obvious, to her. She was empathetic to his suffering, no matter what was causing it, and she wanted to help.

But there was nothing Ginny could do to stop Dumbledore's plans. There was noting she could do to protect him from Voldemort. Her involvement in all of this would only endanger the both of them severely and Harry couldn't let that happen. She would be scared of Tom, anyway. She wouldn't be able to understand the situation, because she only knew the Diary from the past, not this Tom. Not Harry's Tom...

"I have to go..."

"No, wait!"

Harry didn't listen to her. He was on his way out of the room.

She didn't try anything more to stop him. He made his way blindly through the school, his heart hammering in his chest. He knew Ginny wasn't going to stop asking him about all of this. He wasn't looking forwards to Tom's reaction to all of this, either – to avoid it for now, Harry headed up to the Gryffindor Tower.

He stopped outside the entrance to the Common Room when Jimmy Peakes began calling after him. He was waving a roll of parchment in one hand, telling Harry it was urgent that he read it.

Tom had caught up with Harry. It wouldn't be a surprise if he had been there all along.

"Thanks, Jimmy..."

Tom was silent as Harry began unravelling the parchment. They both knew this letter was from Dumbledore, even before Harry recognised his handwriting. When Jimmy disappeared behind the Fat Lady's portrait, Harry and Tom exchanged looks of understanding.

"He must have found a Horcrux," Tom said.

"Let's go," Harry murmured. "Now..."

They raced down a few corridors without stopping, being disturbed by nobody but Peeves in this late hour. It was only after standing alone with Tom again when Harry heard it; a woman was shouting in the distance.

"How – dare – you – aaaaargh!"

Harry ran towards the source of commotion, Tom following close behind him. On a wide, open corridor, they found that Professor Trelawney had fallen over amongst several sherry bottles, getting tangled up in one of her shawls.

"Professor -"

Harry began helping her up hastily, catching a strong scent of alcohol from her when she hiccoughed. Straightening her huge glasses and turning dazed eyes towards Harry, she attempted to steady herself with his arm.

"What happened, Professor?"

"You may well ask!" she answered shrilly. "I was strolling along, brooding upon certain Dark portents I happen to have glimpsed..."

Harry wasn't listening. He glanced at Tom, who seemed bored and annoyed by Trelawney's presence. He was wondering to himself how soon he could get away from Trelawney when he noticed it; the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy attempting to teach Trolls the ballet stood just behind Tom.

"Professor, were you truing to get into the Room of Requirement?"

"...omens I have been vouchsafed – what?"

Magnified eyes widened behind her large glasses.

"The Room of Requirement," Harry repeated. "Were you trying to get in there?"

"I – well – I didn't know students knew about -"

"Not all of them do. But what happened? You screamed... it sounded as thought you were hurt..."

"I – well," she stammered uncomfortably, folding her shawls in closer, "I wished to – ah – deposit certain – um – personal items in the Room... nasty accusations..."

"Right... but you couldn't get in and hide them?"

Tom was interested for the first time, watching the conversation silently.

"Oh, I got in all right," the Professor told him, scowling at the very thought, "but there was somebody already in there."

"Somebody in-? Who? Who was there?"

"I have no idea," she answered, frowning at Harry's eagerness. "I walked into the Room and heard a voice, which has never happened before in all my years of hiding – of using the Room, I mean."

"A voice?" he repeated. "Saying what?"

"I don't know that it was saying anything. It was... whooping."

"Whooping?"

"Gleefully," she said, nodding.

Harry glanced at Tom. He knew they shared the same suspicion.

"Was it male or female?" he asked the Professor.

"I would hazard a guess at male," she answered.

"And it sounded happy?"

"Very happy."

"As though it was celebrating?"

"Most definitely."

Tom's eyes were alight with caution.

"And then-?"

"And then I called out, 'Who's there?'" Trelawney told him.

"You couldn't have found out who it was without asking?" Harry asked her, irritated by this.

"The Inner Eye," she said with dignity, straightening up to the sound of glittering beads hitting against each other, "was fixed upon matters well outside the mundane realms of whooping voices."

"Right," said Harry in a bored, impatient tone, "and did the voice say who was there?"

"No, it did not," she said. "Everything went pitch black and the next thing I knew, I was being hurtled headfirst out of the Room!"

"And you didn't see that coming?" Harry asked, unable to help himself.

"No, I did not, as I say, it was pitch-"

She stopped, realising what he meant. She glared at him.

Harry knew all of this was too important to ignore. Glancing at Tom one more time, he mulled over the possibility of someone closer to Trelawney – Dumbledore, specifically – getting this information out of her. Harry knew Malfoy had to be the one celebrating in the Room of Requirement and it was a terrible sign. If he was letting Death Eaters into the school tonight, Harry had to know about it...

Tom, who had read Harry's thought process, inclined his head once in approval of this plan. Harry turned back to Trelawney.

"I think you'd better tell Professor Dumbledore," he said. "He ought to know someone threw you out of the Room."

Professor Trelawney drew herself up to the fullest height, looking haughty at the suggestion.

"The Headmaster has intimated that he would prefer fewer visits from me," she said coldly. "I am not one to press my company upon those who do not value it. If Dumbledore chooses to ignore the warnings the cards show-"

Her bony hand reached out for Harry's wrist, clutching at it.

"Again and again, no matter how I lay them out -"

She withdrew a card from beneath her shawls, her expression dramatic.

"- the lightning-struck tower," she whispered. "Calamity. Disaster. Coming near all the time..."

Harry stared at her, suddenly alarmed and slightly repulsed by the stench of alcohol on her breath.

"Right," he said, "Well... I still think you should tell Dumbledore about the voice and everything going dark and being thrown out of the Room..."

"You think so?" she asked, considering the idea. Harry could see she enjoyed the idea of retelling her little adventure.

"I'm going to see him right now," Harry told her. "I've got a meeting with him. We can go together."

"Oh, well, in that case..."

Smiling, she scooped up her sherry bottles and dumped them in a large blue and white vase in a nearby niche. She seemed to enjoy Harry's company, but after a few minutes of hearing her drunkenly discuss the various problems on her mind, Harry began to regret his decision of taking her to Dumbledore.

Tom didn't say a single word as they walked, but his expression of caution remained. Harry worried he might disappear from sight before they got to Dumbledore's office. The thought played on his mind so much that he didn't listen very much to what Trelawney was saying.

"I remember my first interview with Dumbledore," she told him, oblivious to the fact he didn't care. "He was deeply impressed, of course, deeply impressed... I was staying at the Hog's Head, which I do not advise, incidentally – bed bugs, my dear boy – but funds were low. Dumbledore did me the courtesy of calling upon me in my room at the inn. He questioned me... I must confess that, at first, I thought he seemed ill-disposed towards Divination... and I remember I was starting to feel a little odd, I had not eaten much that day... but then..."

She had caught his attention. Harry knew what happened next: Processor Trelawney had made the prophecy that altered his whole life, the prophecy about him and Voldemort.

"...but then we were rudely interrupted by Severus Snape!"

"What?"

"Yes, there was a commotion outside the door and it flew open, and there was that rather uncouth barman standing with Snape, who was waffling about having come the wrong way up the stairs, although I'm afraid that I myself rather thought he had been apprehended eavesdropping on my interview with Dumbledore – you see, he himself was seeking a job at the time, and no doubt hoped to pick up tips! Well, after that, you know, Dumbledore seemed much more disposed to give me a job, and I could not help thinking, Harry, that it was because he appreciated the start contrast between -"

Harry could no longer hear a word she was saying. He had stopped dead, rooted to the spot by the horror that struck him. Snape... It was Snape who had informed Voldemort about the prophecy. It was Snape who had sent Lily and James to their deaths, likely as a result of his fierce hate for Harry's father, and nothing more...

"- my own unassuming manners and quiet talent, compared to the pushing, thrusting young man who was prepared to listen at keyholes - Harry, dear?" Trelawney asked, only just noticing his distance.

"Dumbledore knew", he hissed. "Dumbledore always knew..."

"Harry?"

He couldn't answer her. He couldn't even look up at Tom, who stood close by, watching him.

Trelawney might have been alarmed by Harry's hissing, but in that moment he couldn't care any less. He looked at Tom, meeting his wide, alarmed eyes. He had never seem Tom so watchful, so panicked. Even he, apparently, could not foresee something like this.

As they looked at each other, Harry knew he and Tom shared the same thought. They both realised that either Snape was working for Voldemort and Dumbledore supported it, or Dumbledore was too ignorant and forgiving to understand the situation. Regardless of who was on who's side, Harry now understood just how close certain betrayals tied the Dark and Light sides. He understood that he had been lied to all his life about who had been a part of murdering his family...

Fury latched onto Harry, burning his skin and blinding his eyes. He was unable to move in fear of his own actions. Tom watched rage and sorrow pass across his mind, but he didn't need to say a word about it. Dumbledore was ignoring signs of impending doom because he had given up. Draco was celebrating a success, inevitably meaning danger would strike Hogwarts tonight, but Dumbledore would be gone, regardless, in search of a Horcrux. He would be ignorant of how much Harry knew, ignorant of the whole truth being revealed...

To contain his rage, to keep his mind clear, Harry was going to refrain from telling Dumbledore what he had learnt tonight. Harry would leave Trelawney here, arriving at Dumbledore's office as usual. They would hunt the Horcrux, destroying it... then Harry would have his revenge. A change had happened in him tonight and Tom could see it clearly. He could understand the plan Harry was forming and he approved of it very much... Together, they would fight this war.