Chapter 12 (Tom's POV)

He felt Harry go still beneath his foot.

"I'm going to cut you a deal, Harry,' he hissed softly. Those killing curse eyes met his, wary but unafraid.

'What's the deal?' Harry asked, albeit a little croakily due to the pressure on his wind pipe. He appraised the boy. Harry really was different to everyone he had ever met. He had a respect for the boy that he didn't have for the others - he didn't want to force him to his side. But he would. If he couldn't have Harry, no one else could either.

'It's more of a contract, of sorts,' he said smoothly. 'Have you ever heard of the saying: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth?'

'An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.'

Typical. Harry would a smart mouthed comeback ready, wouldn't he? For a lion he had a tongue of knives.

'The world are already blind -' he began, pausing as Harry's eyes dilated. He looked down at his foot, was he pressing down too hard? A small whimper escaped the boy. Something was wrong. He didn't need to have the mental connection open with Harry to determine that much…wait, mental connection? He dropped down to his knees as the boy's eyes turned glassy. He swore under his breath.

Harry's eyes had tinted a crimson red. His future self? Wow, he could possess Harry? How interesting…something to consider. Harry had a bad habit of pushing him too far with his refusal to take orders - even when they were for his own health.

'Well, well, well. What do we have here?' Tom stiffened at the sibilant voice. That wasn't Harry. Which meant…

'Lord Voldemort?' he questioned evenly. A smile, god awful and so far from his own that it was almost unrecognisable. Almost. The twist of the mouth was his.

'Hello Tom. I must say, it's not everyday one meets ones self.'

'What have you done to Harry?' he asked dangerously. Those blood red, snake-like eyes narrowed.

'Pull yourself together child. The boy is of little consequence to us.'

'No,' he disagreed. 'Harry is of little consequence to you. He is of very much interest and use to me.' The eyes flashed green for a moment. Good boy.

'Don't be a fool!' Voldemort, again. Blood was beginning to seep out the cut on Harry's forehead, his body twisting in pain at the invasion. Tom's eyes aura flared.

He wasn't a fool, and he would destroy anyone who said otherwise, even this apparent him. How had he become this? A snake like monster resorted to hurting a teenager? Pathetic. Lord Voldemort would never fall to the standards of a common criminal. No one touched Harry, except him - and that meant HIM, not another him…and Salazar that sounded odd.

'Yeah,' he dismissed coldly. 'Can I have Harry back? We were in the middle of something.' It was phrased as a question, but it wasn't really. They both knew that. Voldemort's eyes narrowed.

'You dare -' he began, they had switched once more to English. Tom smirked cruelly, watching as his future self lost composure. Disowned. He would never do that. Who was this impostor?

'Oh, I dare - and you should know I never back down from a dare,' he taunted. A second later, he rammed into Harry's head.

The impostor may have had a mental connection, but so did he. He was closer, he had the home advantage. That, and he was just better in everyway.

___

Tom looked up as a crowd burst into the hospital wing, a small frown on his face.

'Harry!' the buck-toothed mud blood shrieked, running over. He nearly rolled his eyes, but a lord did not roll his eyes.

'You do know he can't hear you, right?' he enquired delicately. Granger flushed, glaring at him.

'Shut up Tom. This is all your fault!' Huh. She called him Tom.

'My fault?' he repeated dangerously. 'Pray, how is it my fault? I just saved his pretty little head.'

'I always knew you had a thing for me, Tommy darling.' A weak, but ever mocking voice murmured. He shifted his gaze to Harry. He'd deal with the mud blood and the blood traitor later.

'Oh,' he purred, 'but of course my love. You are my one, my only - the only thing that keeps my soul together, I fear I shall die without you,' he drawled, putting a hand dramatically to his heart. Harry gave him a look, a small grin on his face.

'Taking it too Tom, taking it too far,' he replied. A pause, everyone was staring at them, the Slytherin's snickering. 'I'm never going to be able to look your future self in the eye again.'

He smirked.

'I know.'

'Bastard.' Harry sat up slowly, looking around him, clutching his head.

'Are you okay? What happened, mate?' The red head demanded. Harry nodded, wincing slightly.

'I'm great. Volds, not so much -'

'-Voldemort. Lord Voldemort!' The Slytherin's said automatically, loyally. He smirked at the lions expressions. Sanctimonious fools. He still needed a name for them…hmm. Knights of Walpurgis was quite good, but it didn't quite fit with Flight-of-death or Morsmorde (take a bite out of death.) Hey, bite out of death…Death Eaters. It had potential. Meh. Perhaps with a little work.

'Yeah, yeah,' Harry said. 'Anyway, Volds wasn't too happy with my apparent traitorishness to the dark side. His mood seemed to decline when I told him to be a traitor to the dark side, you had to be on the dark side is the first place. Don't know why.'

And Harry wondered why most of his future Knights wanted him dead.

'Perhaps it would be advisable not to annoy him?' he offered, almost laughing at everyone's expressions. His Knights were still oblivious to who the dark lord really was. Harry's minions: not so much. They were staring at him, thrown by how him and Harry talked so easily. Losers.

'Ah, he'd get bored,' Harry replied. The words were light hearted, but Harry's eyes met his with a serious intensity. He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. No, he wasn't going to bring up the basilisk again at the present time. Forgive and forget and all that….well.

'Probably - a sad fact in itself,' he replied. The conversation continued for a while, light hearted and utterly fake.

'So, um. How did I get here from…' a pause, 'where Voldemort attacked me?' Harry asked. Oh. Damn. He hoped Harry wouldn't ask that.

'Tom carried you.'

Alphard, stupid idiot, was dead. The Black needed a lesson in keeping his mouth shut.

'You did?' Harry looked at him, startled and a little embarrassed. He nodded stiffly.

'You owe me a new shirt. Blood is a nightmare to get out.'

'Duly noted,' Harry replied, giving him a long look.

'Okay, everyone out!' Madam Pomfrey bustled in, looking harassed. 'Harry, the Headmaster would like to talk to you.'

Oh the joy. He made no move to leave as everyone else did. They were talking about him, so he was staying. Harry gave him a knowing look, but his features had hardened into an unreadable mask as footsteps approached the ward. Looked like the interrogation had arrived. Harry glanced at him.

'Thank you, for everything.'

'What -' he began.

The Headmaster strolled in, his eyes devoid of a twinkle.

Saved by the multicoloured robes that burned your eyes.

Damn.