AN: Aloha, have an update. I hope it's adequate at least. It doesn't feel so good, but…anyway. Just a note: THIS STORY IS NOT SLASH. I'm not particularly writing a pairing at the moment, so if you really want you can treat it like that and try and read between the lines, but this isn't a romance and it isn't written as slash. So yeah. Enjoy - The Fictionist

Chapter 21

Harry and Tom entered the Great Hall, once more bickering. Everyone stared at them as they entered. "How did you manage to cheer him up?" Alphard asked, looking up, wary of drawing their wrath. Typical, blunt Blacks. "He didn't," Harry replied. "He only managed to annoy me."

"It worked, did it not?" Tom smirked. "You've stopped sulking."

"I do not sulk!" he snapped, rounding on the future Dark Lord. Tom's eyes glittered. "Yes, you do. You pout as well."

"I do not!"

"Would you like me to say 'do too' so that we can have a proper five year olds argument?" Tom asked delicately. He narrowed his eyes dangerously. Tom merely smirked at him. He couldn't help but touch a finger to his lips to check if he was pouting or not. He wasn't.

Tom burst out laughing.

"You're so precious Potter." "Shut up."

They sat in silence for a moment, having a silent battle of wills. Then, in an unspoken agreement, they turned to their dinners. He realised belatedly that he should have been sitting with the lions…but then again, he had sat with the Gryffs at breakfast. He had a feel Ron and Hermione would be over in a second anyway…yup. There they were. "Harry! Are you alright?" Hermione demanded. He smiled gently at her.

"I'm fine Mi," he replied, mainly honestly. She didn't look convinced. "What did you do to him?" Ron demanded. Tom raised a brow. "Charming. I rescue your little savoir -"

"-I take offence -"

"- from the depths of depression and suicidal thoughts and this is the gratitude I get? Weasleys…"

"I was hardly suicidal," he muttered furiously. Tom threw his head back and laughed, not particularly nicely.

"Yes, Potter. Because most people react like you did when someone says the -"

"-I still haven't ruled out cursing the spit out of you," he growled, twisting to glare at Riddle. Tom appraised him with an unreadable expression."Says what?" Zevi frowned. "You mean you've finally found a way to shut him up?" Lestrange muttered snidely. Tom just sat back, his eyes not leaving Harry's face.

"I'd deal with those issues if I were you, Harry."

"What issues?" Hermione asked, looking frustrated now. "It's nothing," Harry said quickly.

"Didn't look like nothing…"

"Shut UP, Tom!" he snapped. "It's none of your business besides."

Tom's eyes darkened at the blatant disrespect in his tone. "Watch your mouth," he warned icily. "And really, considering I'm the one that ends up with all your depressing thoughts in my head because your mind arts abilities are horrendous, I would say it was my business.""Harry's not depressed," Ron frowned. He loved the red head for that….defending him without thinking or even knowing all the facts. Tom glanced at him. He had a sinking feeling, anger burning in his chest. Tom tolerated his smart mouth comments to a certain extent, but he didn't appreciate insolence. He was going to pay for that 'shut up' comment now.

"No," Tom drawled. "Harry just cringes whenever you mention the word Lily Potter…perfectly normal."

Then there was silence.

"I hate you." Did he have to mention that, in the middle of the great hall? No, wait! This was Tom, he was a sadistic bastard who always came out top…of course he did.

"Oh, Harry…" Hermione began.

"It's nothing -"

"It's not nothing Harry, why didn't you say something!" she shrieked. For once, he would have loved her to show the Slytherin sense of mind to keep her voice down in private confrontations.

"Because you're making it out to be a far bigger deal than it actually is!" he growled. He could feel his cheeks beginning to burn in embarrassment. This really wasn't a conversation he wanted to be having. Actually, he felt more like cursing someone with some definitely not ministry approved curses.

"That's ridiculous!"

"Oh, so now -""I never thought I'd agree with a mudblood," Abraxas frowned. They both stopped to stare at the Malfoy heir, who looked indifferent under their scrutiny. "What?" he asked.

"You agree with me?" Hermione questioned. Abraxas shrugged. "Sadly so. Harry, for a Slytherin you are uncommonly eager to go on guilt trips. It's not normal. Neither is taking the guilt of a Dark Lord as your own…you do know they're called 'dark' lords for a reason?"

"That's besides the point," he started, irritated.

"Harry," Tom raised a hand. He paused despite himself. "Your attitude is getting dangerously close to insulting me."

"Oh, so sorry," he said sarcastically. "What's my attitude got to do with you, anyway?" e demanded incredulously. Riddle's head tilted. "Consider the topic chosen one -""-Don't call me that-"

"-you're not completely brainless, work it out." Was that a compliment? He stared at Tom. How did whatever he thought of that night have to do with - Oh.

"Hmmm," Tom said, seeming to know the second he got it. "You don't control mine nor my future self's actions. So relax. You have no right to feel my guilt." Tom stared at him demandingly.

He slowly nodded in acceptance, or at least acknowledgement of the point. "Fine," he bit out. They were all ganging up on him. It was so unfair that the one time his two sets of friends got a long it was when they were against him. Where was the justice? Not to mention, Tom was up to something…he just knew it. "But -"

They never found out what he was going to say, the Great Hall was silenced by loud voices coming from outside, approaching fast like the roar of a train down a tunnel.

"Duddy, don't touch anything -"

"-Absolutely preposterous."

Why were the Dursley's at Hogwarts?