Chapter 142:

Zevi was unnerved.

Harry had changed; inexplicably, he seemed to have undergone a great transformation. He was trying to act normal, and especially around his Gryffindor friends his performance was flawless, but sometimes he slipped.

Tom's eyes followed him very closely, flicking up to check on the other every few minutes, though his lord was distracted by scrawling furiously into a new notebook.

He'd heard what happened on to the old one, and wasn't sure if he was appalled, terrified or impressed. Maybe all three, though he'd keep quiet about the last.

The scariest thing was Harry's sudden ability to take orders, and his subdued nature.

Oh, he still bantered with Tom, of course, and they still did everything they normally did, but…something had changed. Namely, though Harry bantered and teased, when it came to more serious stuff or Tom making morality-comments he just clammed up completely, looking lost and uncertain.

It made him shudder to think what had happened. He couldn't quite pinpoint all the changes, but there was something. Harry was acting normally, but it was with a type of desperation that just screamed he was more playing the role of 'normal' rather than feeling it genuinely.

His eyes…sometimes they just turned so cold.

In a bizarre way, it was easier to note the difference by paying attention to Tom's wary study of the other, and the way he hadn't started taunting about the other's sudden submissiveness.

Normally, if Harry for some crazy and rare reason went anywhere near docile, the Slytherin Heir baited and goaded until the other was practically bristling with defiance once again.

He sighed, before freezing.

Harry had just got up and slipped out the room.

Riddle, frowning, seeming to be in a moment in his work that required more intense concentration than others, hadn't noticed. Zevi's mouth felt dry, and he exchanged a look with Abraxas, wondering if he should be saying something. Alphard was flirting with Greengrass again.

It seemed like a betrayal to Harry to say something, but if something was wrong…and yet, Tom didn't seem to be in the mood to be interrupted. He dithered helplessly.

"What is it?" came their lord's voice, not looking up.

"I-" Abraxas seemed to steel himself. "Is Harry supposed to be gone?"

The Slytherin Heir's head snapped up.

Harry walked into the Room of Requirement, his stomach lurching all the way with the terror that he'd run into someone.

Like Snape. Dumbledore. Or Ron, Hermione or Luna. He shivered at the thought. He didn't want them to see him like this.

He knew he didn't have long before Tom caught up with him (and the other clearly didn't trust him at all! But then, Harry wouldn't trust himself either…) and so demanded the room block anyone else from entering.

Then, he pulled out the Locket from around his neck.

He'd decided that now that he would just try and remember every rule of morality he'd always considered before, and apply them, even if it didn't feel right. Surely he would turn out vaguely okay then?

He would mimic the boy he used to be.

As much as he wanted to hide from the world until he felt more like himself…and again, why would he want to? The Old Harry Potter had been pathetic with how hung up he was about moral…Salazar. He did not just think that. He ran his fingers across the remorse scar on his hand, nails digging in.

He'd been trying to feel remorse, he really had, and he knew he felt it, but it obviously wasn't enough as his soul wouldn't return to him. Maybe the fragment was too disgusted. Fragment. What would his Horcrux fragment look like? He wondered if Tom had opened it to find out.

Well, it was of no matter. It wouldn't help him now.

The point was, he didn't have time to shatter yet.

He pulled the Locket from around his neck (ignoring Nagini, as always.)

"Open."

Marvolo looked around him, noting their location, then back at him. Immediately, the Horcrux's head tilted to one side with appraisal as he drifted forwards.

"My my, you never mentioned this development," it purred, running what he assumed was smoky knuckles down one side of his face. "How's the soulless life suiting you, hero?"

"I'm not soulless!" he near shrieked. Marvolo's knuckles paused."I wondered why you didn't call yesterday, you're all fresh aren't you? Still balancing out?"

"You know about that? Does it happen on your side too?"

"Even more so," Marvolo stated. "We have more to get used to, so don't whine, child."

"Call me that again and I'll trace you a new shape with some fiendfyre," he snapped irritably. The Horcrux merely laughed at him, cruelly, circling him in a speculating manner, before stopping in front of him again.

"Oh, how you must despise yourself," it murmured. Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I have a deal for you," he said, instead. Bloody eyes gleamed.

"Do tell, child."

He lunged furiously at the other, only to go through the Horcrux's intangibly form, hissing in agony, collapsing to the floor. Marvolo laughed again, sitting down next to him, patting his head.

"I wouldn't go through me if I were you, it goes against the laws of nature for the same soul to cross like that, or even for separate souls to meet in such a manner."

Harry struggled to sit up, ignoring the fingers playing with his hair.

"Don't call me child, I'm not a kid. And stop touching me."

"But it riles you up so perfectly, how could I resist?" Marvolo returned. Harry wasn't sure if he was talking about the names or the touching. Both were horrible. "Now, come, what is this deal?"

Harry bristled at the patronising voice. He knew the other was doing it on purpose, for whatever reason.

"You're seriously provoking someone going through balance?" he questioned, trying to fish for answers. "I could destroy you right now, without a speck of hesitation."

"Indeed, and destroy yourself in the depths of your despair," Marvolo replied in a tone of amusement. "You wouldn't be able to stand not being able to play your game of Patchwork people, which you can't if you lose any more parts by destroying me. Your end game is why you made this change, after all, once it's done or obsolete you'll have nothing left."

Harry's eyes closed. Right.

Why was it telling him this? To torture him more, as Marvolo knew he couldn't actually control himself well, and so, with foreknowledge, if he did snap and ruin everything it would be that much worse. His fists clenched.

He rolled up the sleeves of his left arm, revealing the mark for the first time.

"I need you to get rid of this," he stated. Marvolo's posture didn't shift, though Harry knew he recognised it, having seen the snake in action the few times when Tom had joined them. He traced a hand over it, oddly, feeling he might miss the design, if not the purpose.

"And in return you will?"

"Get you a body within two weeks. You can leave the locket, live again."

The Horcrux froze. He'd offer token negotiation, but, ultimately, Harry knew he wouldn't be able to resist.

"You're confronting Voldemort within two weeks," it noted. "I'll rejoin with him. You would do that anyway, why should I agree to help?"

"You think Tom won't stop me from facing him and doing this, if he has the power to pin my movements so easily?" he returned. His plan would never succeed if he couldn't get more than however far from Tom.

"He'd destroy me if he knew I did it," the other returned.

"You wish to stay in a locket for all eternity then?" he questioned delicately, cruelly. "Because, as we both know, an eternity is what we have. This is mutually beneficial for both of us."

Marvolo was silent for a moment, eyes narrowed. Harry didn't doubt he had his own plans."

Consider it a deal then, child."

Harry walked out the room of requirement some time later (he'd scratched nail marks into his forearm to at least make an effort of disguising the lack of mark) to find Tom sitting outside, scribbling into a notebook.

"You shouldn't wander off," the Slytherin Heir remarked, with a cold strain of anger.

"I would have before."

"This isn't before. You're mentally and emotionally unstable."

He was worried. How quaint.

"So are you, psychopath, does that mean I should keep you on a leash for the rest of your life?"

Tom shot him a glare.

"Besides" Harry added, walking down the corridor, "if you're worried I'm going to snap, you shouldn't have done it in the first place."

"Where are you going now?" Tom demanded.

"To kill myself, mother."

The young Dark Lord's hand shot out, slamming him back against the wall. He rolled his eyes.

"Take a joke," he recommended, lightly.

"Make it funnier then," Tom hissed in return. "Since when do you make any jokes regarding parental roles to me? A few months back you couldn't even stand to hear me say their names."

Harry suddenly felt a crippling pang of horror, and blinked, and he knew Tom sensed it by the loosening of his grip. That had been an awful, sick thing to say. Why had he said it?

"I-" he faltered. Tom sighed, studying him. He turned away from the Slytherin Heir, disturbed and troubled. He swallowed. "Is this what it's like for you, always?" he asked quietly.

"What it's like?" Tom questioned, and Harry could just picture the confusion on his face, though he didn't look to verify it.

"The apathy, the not caring. The sudden irrational swings of temper and emotion."

"Somewhat," the young Dark Lord said quietly. "Though my emotions are more constant. I have things I always care about, and then things that don't factor for me as important, unless it benefits me to notice them." Tom paused. "You're not suddenly a psychopath, Harry."

Harry shifted his gaze slightly, putting the other in his line of vision again.

"I know, I just-" he faltered again. "How do you cope? How do you-"

"I've never known different," Tom shrugged.

"But you can feel my emotions, can't you?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I understand them or that they're not completely foreign to me."

Harry was quiet, biting his lip.

"What did you put it in?" he asked, again.

"Where did you put my notebook?"

"Would you tell me my answer if I gave you yours?" he looked over, eyes sharper now.

"Yes," Tom replied, surveying him just as intently.

He turned his gaze away again. Pointless negotiation. He didn't gain enough. Tom would have everything he needed for his plan if he had the notebook. Best to leave it with Hermione.

He began to walk away again, only for Tom to take hold of his arm.

"What are you doing?" the other demanded once more.

"You think I'm just going to sit around watching you complete your plans while not working on mine?" Harry raised his brows. "I thought you were supposed to be genius."

Tom's jaw tightened.

"I will curse you if you try and stop me, by the way," Harry said, offhandedly, when the other opened his mouth to speak. For a moment, Tom's eyes flashed with something indecipherable, before a smirk crossed his lips.

"You'll curse me, how are you going to manage that, darling?"

"It's quite easy really, I point my wand and say the magic words," he replied dryly. "Now, are you going to move?"Tom studied him thoughtfully for a moment.

"No."

The next second, his wand was in his hands slashing down in the Slytherin heir's direction, and the second after that, Tom had twisted him so his back was pressing against the other's chest, an arm wrapped firmly around his other wand wrist.

"You've got a bit to learn about being ruthless still," the young Dark Lord murmured into his ear. "One good pointer is to not make threats, it gives your opponent time to plan against you."

"You just can't help being a bastard can you?" Harry sneered.

"No one can, after all, judge not the son for the sins of the father…"

Harry huffed in disgust, bringing his foot back, breaking Tom's shin, causing the other to hiss in pain, releasing him automatically. He straightened, smoothing down his clothes.

He felt a pang of distant remorse to see the pain masked in the other's hands, the state of his ankle. He ignored it. He didn't have time for it anymore, resolutions be damned.

"More like that?" he enquired lazily.

Tom's stared at him, an odd expression on his face. He strode down the corridor without another comment.

"You really have changed," the other murmured, at his back. "You're…colder. Less of a mess."

He suddenly realised the emotion. It was that, more than anything, that made him stop, turning around again.

"You miss me already," he stated, brows furrowed. "You miss Harry."

Tom regarded him, unemotionally. Harry knew he was right though, and smiled slightly, viciously.

"You honestly thought I'd be the same, didn't you?"

"A lack of soul shouldn't change you that much," Tom replied. Harry laughed, somewhat bitterly.

"You thought I'd be him, just immortal, maybe a bit more favourable to certain practises, was that it? It doesn't work like that." His voice dropped, the mirth vanished, replaced by sorrow. "You kicked everything I believed in aside as worthless, Tom. I begged you to stop, I begged. Didn't that tell you anything? Didn't IT!" He was practically screaming at the end, before shaking his head. "No, you wouldn't. Of course it wouldn't. Because you're way is always best, isn't it? The perfect Tom Riddle couldn't possibly concur to the opinion of someone else, and he's always right in the end-"

Tom looked stricken.

"Harry..."

His eyes widened, his words catching up with him, his hands flying to his mouth. His eyes closed, a moan slipping past his lips. He couldn't believed he'd just said that. He'd never been this mean.

"I have a Horcrux to hunt," he whispered.

Tom watched him go, a strange feeling in his chest.

The Horcrux inside him strained again, bucking desperately to return, and that, in itself, told him something.

He would fix this. He'd fix Harry.

It was what he did.

As soon as he was in the past with a mastery over death…

Minerva McGonagall was trying to forget it, she really was, but she couldn't. It was never a good idea to get involved with the "Slytherin Duo" she'd noticed that in the past.

They sorted themselves out well, with their own rules that no one else couldn't possibly hope to understand. No one else knew enough to possibly try and mediate between them, and they wouldn't care for the interference either, the extra person.

Still, she was haunted by the image she had been met with.

The viciousness, the lack of control, hadn't been either the Harry Potter or the Harrison Evans she had known, for he had always been kind, well intentioned. He wasn't perfect, he was fully capable of losing his temper or brutally, but….and the way he had clung to Riddle, like a broken man.

It frightened her.

How could the saviour of the wizarding world be so suddenly broken? What had happened between them, when not even Voldemort's tortures had been suffice to destroy him so much? He'd been pale as sheet, flip flopping between personalities, as if he'd somehow developed a split personality disorder.

She didn't understand it. She was certain she didn't want to.

Albus had wanted to have them both taken in, despite her arguments to the contrary.

Tom Riddle was charming and handsome, she knew that, but she knew well enough what he'd become, and so what he could be like now, even if she hadn't been certain back when he was simply their charismatic head boy. He was cruel, she'd seen him playing with people. But, she also firmly believed that he somehow had come to care for the boy hero.

Whatever was wrong, if they left them to it, Riddle would fix that too.

She'd noted the expression on his face when he'd dragged Harry back from attacking Severus, the equally protective and restraining clinch of his arms, the whiteness of his face, the barest uncertainty in his eyes.

She knew Albus thought the boy was nothing but a pretence, and she didn't deny that he probably lied and omitted and masked his nature an awful lot, making promises he had no intention of keeping if they weren't under oath, but…he wasn't leading Potter on.

Every one she had ever seen with Tom Riddle followed him, except Harry. Tom didn't follow Harry so much that she'd seen, but he didn't demand submissiveness and he seemed to revel in Harry's defiance.

It was remarkable.

No, Riddle cared all right, as much as Tom Riddle could.

His sentiment was obsessive, twisted and dark, she was certain, but it was there, and utterly committed.

He wouldn't let anything bad happen to Harry, and so she solemnly believed, perhaps bizarrely, that her Gryffindor was in relatively safe hands.

Whatever this horrible event was, they would get through it.

She couldn't imagine that they would not.

Harry flicked through a book on the founders, desperately searching for some clue as to what the last Horcrux could be.

Gryffindor's hat…Gryffindor's sword….Hufflepuff's Cup….Hufflepuff's staff….Ravenclaw's diadem…Ravenclaw's…wait.

He skipped back to Ravenclaw's diadem.

It could have been any of the founder's objects, or, indeed, something unrelated to the founders and significant to Tom, but…he'd seen that tiara before.

Where had he seen it? Where?

He dropped his aching head on the table.

Voldemort rubbed a hand to his forehead, emotions slamming against his Occlumency shields, leaving faint impressions upon him. He remembered Potter's deal.

He could sense something was wrong, a slight buzzing of his magic suggesting that the oath was applicable in the eyes of the Boy-Who-Lived.

What had happened, to cause so drastic a change? It mattered not, ultimately, but he was curious.

The real question was whether to go and deal with it now, or wait until all war waged within the week to destroy the boy and the light side along side him.

He needed to get rid of the life bond too, and there was no way Potter would agree to the conditions that took it off…unless…his eyes widened.

Those emotions, the swing, the fear of a loss of morality…

A wicked smirk graced his lips.

Actually, this was perfect…

Five minutes later, he apparated to the edge of the Hogwarts Wards, seeking the other's…tattered (!) mind out with his own.

[[Your deal's due, hero. Come and meet your Fate.]]

A/N: I hate Horcrux Harry. He's so hard to write, I miss the old Harry :( But, anyway. The show must go on.

Note - I am no authority on psychopath's, so with Tom's personality I am somewhat guessing on some aspects. But well, hey, it's just Tom isn't it, nowadays?

Have I mentione you guys, and your breath-taking reviews, are fabulous? :)

PS: How do you guys think it will end? ;) Do you reckon I'll suprise you? Will it be epic? Who knows!

And what do I do AFTER? :O