Harry and Ron were staring at Hermione as she ate her food as if she had been starving herself for weeks.
"I want to get to the library," she explained with her mouth full.
"What?!" Ron exclaimed."Hermione - it's the first day back! We haven't even got homework yet!"
Hermione just shrugged and continued to stuff food in her mouth. Then she sprang to her feet and left the Great Hall hurriedly. Harry followed her with his gaze pensively. He wondered if Tom was like that when he was a student at Hogwarts, constantly chasing after knowledge. That thought brought him to imagining what it would be like if they were at school together. How great it would be to hold his hand reality. To wander around the castle with him and kiss him in the corridor…
He turned back to his food and stabbed it with his fork angrily. Who was he kidding? If they met in normal circumstances, and he wasn't his Horcrux, Tom wouldn't have even looked at him.
In Voldemort's eyes Harry must be so stupid. He certainly felt stupid every time Tom got irritated at Harry's lack of knowledge. Maybe that's why he hasn't showed up in his dreams for the past few nights. Maybe he's had enough of him…
The last time they talked, Barty and Wormtail were almost finished brewing the Polyjuice Potion, and just in time too. The school year was about to begin and they still had to get Mad-Eye Moody first.
Harry woke up the previous morning with a gloomy feeling of holidays coming to an end, and an even gloomier emptiness from another Tom free sleep. But it wasn't until they went to the kitchen that he really started to worry. Mr. Weasley was discussing something fervently with Amos Diggory through the fireplace.
"… Muggle neighbors heard bangs and shouting, so they went and called those what-d'you-call-'ems - please-men. Arthur, you've got to get over there –"
Mr. Weasley was writing something down, while Harry stared at Mr. Diggory's head in the flames, trying to get over the fact he's never seen this way of communication before. Another thing Tom would scold him for.
"What does Mad-Eye say happened?"
Mr. Weasley's words snapped him out of his thoughts and instantly raised his blood pressure. He listened in with a pounding heart.
"Says he heard an intruder in his yard. Says he was creeping toward the house, but was ambushed by his dustbins. They made one hell of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere. Apparently one of them was still rocketing around when the pleasemen turned up –"
Oh no, Harry thought. Did this mean Barty didn't manage to get Moody? He was, after all, an extremely skilled and very experienced Auror, who single-handedly tracked down and put in Azkaban most of Voldemort's Death Eaters. (Another thing he didn't know before and had to learn from Tom).
"And what about the intruder?" Mr. Weasley asked.
Harry held his breath. If Barty was caught, all Tom's plans would go out the window. But Mr. Diggory just said, with irritation clear in his voice:
"Arthur, you know Mad-Eye. Someone creeping into his yard in the dead of night? More likely there's a very shell-shocked cat wandering around somewhere, covered in potato peelings."
Harry suppressed a sigh of relief. If no one saw the intruder, it could just as well mean that Barty has succeeded. He highly doubted the Dark Lord's most faithful servant would get scared by dome dustbins and flee the scene.
Mr. Weasley left in a rush to deal with the Muggles. Harry was dying to know what happened, but they couldn't wait for him to come back, because they were leaving for the King's Cross station.
All the way through yesterday's sorting ceremony, he couldn't stop stressing, glancing at the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher's empty seat. Why wasn't he there yet? Did it mean Barty has succeded, or that he has failed?
And then Mad-Eye Moody made a dramatic entrance, and a terrified silence befell the Great Hall as everyone stared at the ugliest man they've ever seen. Harry looked intently for any sign that it wasn't real Moody, but there was no telling. He didn't even spare Harry a glance, he just walked straight up to Dubmledore and pretty much ignored everyone else… Just like real Moody would do. But so would Barty, in order to be convincing, right?
The Headmaster gave him a warm welcome. The students continued to stare stupidly, some of them with their mouths open. Dubledore swiftly turned everyone's attention from him by announcing the Triwizard Tournament.
While all Harry's underage schoolmates were daydreaming about cheating their way to the Hogwarts champion elections, knowing full well it was never a real option for them, he was gravely wondering if he was going to have to participate.
But now, as he absentmindedly poked the sprouts on his plate with his fork, he thought that perhaps he should take part in the Tournament after all. Maybe this way he could prove to Tom that he was a capable wizard, even though he didn't spend hours with his head buried in books, like Hermione did.
-x-x-x-
The answer to whether the Moody walking around the castle was an imposter or not, came at dinner time. Malfoy read some stupid article from the Daily Prophet, meant to ridicule Ron's dad, and then, very maturely, made fun of Ron's mom.
"What about your mother, Malfoy? Has she always got that expression, like she's got dung under her nose, or just when you are with her?" Harry retorted. Perhaps equally immature, but at least his remark was directed more at Malfoy than his mom.
He turned away. There was a loud bang. A few people screamed and he felt a hot stream fly right by his cheek. Before he could reach his wand, there was another bang and Moody's roar flooded the hall.
"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"
Harry turned around to see the ex-Auror walk up to them, pointing his wand at a white ferret that was Malfoy just seconds ago. Mad-Eye looked at Harry searchingly, as if trying to assess the damage.
"Did he get you?" he said gravely, like his life depended on it.
"No," Harry felt heat rush to his face at being an object of such concern, "missed."
"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned," Moody announced dangerously "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do..."
Moody pointed his wand at ferret-Malfoy, and Harry watched with wild satisfaction as he lifted him up and down, the squealing thing smacking against the floor every time, until Professor McGonagall turned up and put a stop to it.
Fake Moody - Harry was now sure - grabbed Malfoy roughly and marched him toward the dungeons in order to talk to Snape about his behavior. Harry followed them with his gaze with a smirk. Being Voldemort's favorite with a Death Eater at Hogwarts was going to be fun.
-x-x-x-
That night Harry finally dreamed of the old manor again. He entered the dimly lit room, with fire burning in the fireplace, as always. The handsome sixteen-year-old turned to him with a charming smile.
"Hello Harry," he said pleasantly.
Harry scowled and shut the door, realizing only then it didn't make much sense, since they were inside his head, so it wasn't possible for anyone to overhear them.
"What took you so long?" he blurted out.
Tom raised his eyebrows, amused.
"I'm happy to see you too."
He snorted with irritation.
"I haven't seen you in days! I didn't know how it went with the Auror, and then I heard there was a commotion in his house and the Ministry got involved! I was worried!"
"You don't have to worry about Barty, he is a very capable wizard," Tom said calmly. Harry rolled his eyes at that. "He succeeded, he sent me an owl."
"Well, he didn't send me one!" Harry snapped. "And I figured it out myself already, thank you very much."
The memory of fake Moody intervening when Malfoy shot a hex at him, once he's turned his back, flashed in his mind. Voldemort's expression changed from amused to murderous instantly.
"That kid did WHAT?!"
Harry's own anger evaporated as he flinched at Tom's outburst. He could practically feel his menacing power surround him.
"It's- it's nothing," he said quickly. "It's just Malfoy. We've been kind of enemies since the first year."
"Malfoy?" Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "Lucius' son?"
"He was a Death Eater, wasn't he?" Harry exclaimed triumphantly, "I knew it!"
Tom ignored Harry's little victorious outburst and just glared at him, clenching his jaw; his eyes flashing dangerously.
"I'm going to kill that boy!" he announced venomously.
"Tom, it's nothing, really," Harry rushed to smooth things over. "He's just a spoiled brat, that's all. Besides, after what Barty did to him, he wouldn't dare attack me again."
Harry held no love for Malfoy, but their school rivalry and petty rows weren't something he wished him to die over.
Voldemort growled.
"Fine," he said reluctantly. "But if he does something like this again, so help me, I will personally drag him out of Hogwarts and show everyone what happens to those, who even think about touching what's mine!"
As flattering as Tom's possessiveness was, Harry felt a stab of pain laced with jealousy at the fact that Voldemort had so much confidence in Barty handling one of the most successful Aurors and deceiving Dumbledore himself, and yet zero confidence in Harry handling a fourteen-year-old school boy.
"I'm half-tempted to abandon my plans and get you out of Hogwarts after all," Tom said quietly. "How many times have you almost died in that school already?"
Harry gritted his teeth. So now he wasn't even capable enough to be in school? He glared at Tom angrily. He might have a talent to get into trouble, but it was Voldemort who was behind most of those times, when he almost died.
Tom's head snapped up. He narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips.
"What?" Harry said defiantly. "If you don't like my thoughts, then stay out of my head."
Voldemort suddenly lunged towards him. Harry instinctively drew back until he hit a wall and cringed. Tom put his hand under Harry's chin firmly and lifted it, forcing the boy to look at him.
"Do you want me to stay out of your head, Harry?" he hissed, staring down into his eyes coldly. "Just say the word, and I'm gone."
Harry felt as if he swallowed a bucket of ice. His stomach churned from a swirl of emotions. He was terrified by the thought that Tom could be gone from his life in a blink, if he so decided. Hurt by his threat of doing so. Intoxicated by him being so close.
He didn't want him out of his head. He wanted Tom to kiss him. He wanted to belong to him… to be his, and his only. He wanted to be with him in the real world, to see him every day, without having to wait to fall asleep, and then waking up to that overwhelming emptiness. He wanted Tom to have faith in his abilities, and not treat him like an incompetent loser.
With a heaving chest and a pained expression, he looked back into the older boy's beautiful, dark eyes. He blinked back tears, mortified by the knowledge that Tom could read all of his thoughts and feelings.
Tom's gaze softened. Slowly, he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Harry's lips. Tom's hand moved from under Harry's chin, grazing his cheek and sending shivers down his spine, and settled on the base of his neck lightly.
This kiss was different from the ones they've shared before. It was slow and caring, filled with unspoken emotions. Harry's heart swelled, even though his scar was almost blinding him with pain. When their lips finally parted, it took him a moment to catch his breath.
"I do have faith in you abilities, Harry," Tom said.
A wave of warmth shot trough him at the affectionate twinkle in Tom's eyes.
"You do?"
"Of course," he grinned mischievously. "A part of me resides in you, after all."
Harry rolled his eyes, but he smiled too. Tom took on a more serious expression.
"You must understand though, you are of very high value to me. And the thought that someone might lay a finger on you, and I won't be there to blast them into oblivion is… difficult."
Harry suppressed a laugh. Voldemort's way of showing concern was both touching and amusing.
"Well, I've managed to stay alive so far. And you haven't made it easy," he teased.
"You were lucky most of those times," Tom snorted. "But you're right." His lips curved in a devilish smile. "What could you possibly face at Hogwarts, that would be more dangerous than me?"