AN: So, this should be me being all caught up on this story, and the following chapters should appear on schedule...for a while, at least.

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Harry could only exchange letters with most Gryffindors during the holiday, but the increased opportunity to see his other friends more than made up to it. Now that he was firmly in that House and had two close Ancient families friendships there, Alduin decided it wasn't too risky to ask Draco over, and that in turn gave Harry a chance to go to Malfoy Manor. The boys visited with each other every few days, and Harry found it straining not to tell Draco about the whole Quirrell escapade. He understood the risk, however, and concentrated on other topics. Mostly, they discussed Hogwarts, trying to decide how they liked it after the first term.

"I know you have problems with Pansy, but in spite of her, I love being in Slytherin," Draco said. Harry refrained from pointing out it wasn't always only Pansy he had problems with, and let his friend talk. "It really is like a second family, you know?" Draco continued. "Of course it helps that I have basically known all the people from my year for ages….except Blaise and Tracy, I guess, but they are all right too. It's a little strange that there really aren't many people from good families in the years above me – I mean, there is basically only Clement Avery, I don't know if you know him? He's a fifth year...and Marcus Flint, too, of course, you've played against him," Draco grimaced a little as he said that, "but apart from them, there is not a single Noble and Most Ancient House member, and then suddenly there are so many crammed in our year. It's weird."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that too – how come there are so many our age? I think I will have to ask my cousin, I bet he will know, or Alexandra will – she is the historian, after all. I mean, I would understand if the number of children went up after the war, but we were born a year before it ended, weren't we?"

"You would know," Draco replied, and Harry gave him a quick look. It was the first time Draco mentioned Harry's past in front of him.

"It's not like I remember," he pointed out. "I know it from history lessons, just like you."

Draco hesitated for a moment, and then he asked: "Is it weird, learning about yourself?"

"I guess it would be weird if we did it at school with Binns, but then again, I don't think we will ever do anything but goblin rebellions with him. "

"Too true," Draco interjected. "That guy has obviously some issues with goblins."

"Anyway, so that would be weird, but when I went over it with Alduin, it wasn't like he was trying to pretend it didn't concern me, you know? He gave me all the context about my parents fighting and the reasons they were targeted and so on."

"Did he?" Draco now seemed curious. "I never heard about that."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "I'm really not sure if it's public information..."

Draco looked hurt and tried to hide it. Harry sighed and decided to be relatively open. "Look, I would really like to tell you, and I would if that war was over and done with, but as it is, he will come back sooner or later and I really can't risk any sensitive information getting out."

"Why, because I'm a Slytherin?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "No."

"Then why?" Draco insisted.

Harry looked at him intently. "Do you really want me to say it in plain speech?"

"Yes!"

Harry sighed. "Because your father used to be a Death Eater, Draco, and once that jerk comes back, he might join him again, either out of loyalty or out of fear."

"My father was under the Imperius in the last war!"

"Fine, whatever. Then there is a good chance he will be put under Imperius again, because obviously there must have been a reason Riddle wanted him on his side in the first place, and he couldn't resist once, so he'll likely be unable to resist again."

Draco was distracted. "Riddle?"

Harry sighed. Alduin really had been right, it seemed like no one but the Ravenclaws knew him under this name. "That's Voldemort's real name," he said.

"What? Riddle? You just made that up, didn't you?"

"I did not!" Harry protested indignantly.

"What kind of pure-blooded name is that?"

Harry frowned. "I don't know. It's certainly not one of the big families, is it? I guess that's another thing to ask Alduin about..."

Draco shifted. "I could ask Father, too, I guess, but...we don't really talk about him." He seemed very uncomfortable.

Harry sighed again. "Draco, I understand," he said. "It's obviously not going to be an easy topic to talk about with your father. Don't worry about it, I will ask." He paused. "But we were talking about how you're enjoying being a Slytherin, weren't we?"

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On Christmas Eve, Harry and Alduin went to Godric's Hollow once more, and Alduin allowed Harry to do a spell to light the conjured candle himself, to feel like he did something for his parents. They left wreaths of tinsel and walked through the graveyard to go and see the house where the Potters died, and then visited Mrs. Bagshot, in what Harry thought was becoming a nice tradition. She didn't even grill him about his History homework too much.

The present unwrapping in the morning was amazing. In spite of not being born yet, little Wynn got lots of gifts, and Alexandra did a spell that created a projection of him in the air to make it seem more like he was taking part in the celebrations. Harry was rather fascinated by the image – he had seen pictures of unborn children in his schoolbooks, but seeing one live and knowing it was his cousin was completely different.

His presents were enough to distract him a little, however. There were many new robes and books, but there were also displayers and new comics. From Draco, he got a new two-way mirror, and a note explaining that he had the other half. That would come in handy, he knew, since it was sometimes hard to talk at Hogwarts, what with being in different houses. From Ron, he got Flying with the Canons, and couldn't help sighing and rolling his eyes. Apparently. Ron's education still hasn't progressed to the part where they tell you you were supposed to give people gifts they would like, not gifts you liked.

Neville got him a book about Quidditch too, but a really interesting one this time, called Quidditch Through the Ages. He got mostly sweets from his other friends.

The present from Neville reminded him of something he had wanted to do, too, and so he went up to the attic and cautiously called out to Miss Brigit.

"Yes?" She said, terse as always. "What is it? Need help with Potions homework?"

"I will need that in time as well, I'm sure," Harry said, "but right now, I wanted to ask about something else. My friend, Neville Longbottom, is struggling in Potions and Professor Snape is really hard on him because he is a little clumsy and can't really prepare ingredients up to standard...is there any way to help him?"

Miss Brigit frowned. "Mr. Longbottom can still be a very good theoretical potioneer, or even practical if he buys his ingredients pre-prepared. Never a true Master, no, but then most of you won't be. And preparation is really only the basest, though important, part of the job. There is no sense in suppressing someone's interest because they lack in this department. If Severus Snape doesn't see it, I'll be happy to pop in to Hogwarts and remind him."

Harry panicked. "Oh no, please, I don't...I don't want to make it worse for Neville."

"Make it worse?" If ghosts could straighten in indignation, she did. "Young man, I'm a member of every Potions board in this country. If Severus Snape wishes to ever sell another potion again, he will not react to my reprimand by making it worse."

And that was that.

Harry really hoped she was right and knew what she was doing. But then, the idea of Miss Brigit not knowing what she was doing was so absurd he scarcely dared to entertain it.

Apart from his talk with her, Christmas Day passed mostly in leisurely reading, as it had the year before, but during dinner, Harry finally remembered Draco's questions and asked them.

Alduin smirked. "The first one is easy enough," he said. "There was a lull in the war in '79, and many people thought it was on its way to end or at least grow much less extreme. So they decided that if they wanted to have children, now was the right time for it. Unfortunately, it was only a calm before the storm..." He paused. "As for the other part, it's actually quite funny. Draco was right that Riddle is not a pureblood name. It's actually a Muggle name. You see, Riddle is a half-blood."

"What?" Harry dropped his silver fork, which clattered on his plate and earned him a disapproving look from his cousin.

"Yes," he confirmed. "It would be hilarious if it wasn't so sad. His mother was a witch, but his father was a Muggle. He left her, hence Riddle's hatred of Muggles, and she died giving birth to him and left him in a Muggle orphanage."

"That's terrible!" Harry was honestly shocked to hear Riddle even had regular parents, given the kind of monster he was, the monstrous face on the back of Quirrell's head. And that it was something like this...

"Yes, it is," Alduin agreed, "even though it hardly excuses what he did afterwards."

"No, I didn't mean that it does.," Harry explained, though the idea of Riddle having a tragic backstory was disconcerting. "I mean, I grew up with Muggles and they treated me pretty badly, and I don't hate them all...but still."

"It influenced him in many ways," Alexandra joined in. "He had this quest to gain immortality, and it was probably largely influenced by his mother dying. He didn't want to be powerless, like he was as a child in the orphanage, and he didn't want to be mortal, like his mother, and he hated Muggles, because of his father. It's rather fascinating. But then, we've known how far childhood traumas can push one for a while now."

"Aren't there some magical orphanages?" Harry wondered.

Alduin shrugged. "This usually works through families, but the Ministry does have some child protection services. The trouble, you see, is that his mother left him in that orphanage. It was treated as her dying wish that he stays there."

Harry frowned. "But why? I mean, why did she leave him there?"

"No one really knows," Alexandra explained, "but it is possible that she didn't know much about the Ministry at all. The Gaunts were a terrible family, degenerated to idiocy. Merope never attended Hogwarts, and her father was unlikely to have given her any education at all, from what we know about him."

Harry nodded and chewed his turkey silently for a moment, thinking. "How come Draco doesn't know?" He asked then.

"Almost none of the Death Eaters do," Alduin replied.

"But why?"

He shrugged. "Unless you actively try to find out...well, it's not like Riddle would boast of it, is it?"

"But if they swore loyalty to him….I thought they would at least want to know who he was!"

Alduin shook his head. "They were interested in the power he could give them, and in the changes he wanted to make. They knew he wasn't one of the great families – they knew all of their members – so they didn't really want to find out. I think most just assumed he was from some lesser pureblooded family and left it at that."

"And how did you find out?"

Alexandra smiled. "Oh, the historians know. They have known almost from the beginning, even though they are not eager to publish the information anywhere, for fear of repercussions. But, you see, he boasted Slytherin blood, so it was relatively easy from there. The Gaunts were the heirs, but there was no Gaunt left alive, so unless he was lying, Merope or her brother must have had a son. A little investigation in the village where they lived was enough to give us a name, and once the name was found on Hogwarts records and the exam results and other details were considered, it was clear enough."

"What do you mean by other details?"

Alexandra raised her eyebrow. "Well, the Chamber of Secrets was opened during his studies. Someone else was framed for it, but the accusation was so absurd none of the historians ever took it seriously. Once this connection was made, it was clear as a day."

Harry considered, finishing his meal and sitting back, completely full and very grateful wizards didn't wear trousers. Robes were definitely much more comfortable for stuffing oneself. "And you say none of this is in any of the history books?" He asked.

"No, and it won't be until Riddle is defeated once and for all," Alexandra said firmly.

"But, I mean, I'm sure people would be less afraid of his of they knew all this!" Harry argued.

"Do you think so? His spells aren't less deadly because you know who his mother was." Alexandra paused. "All the Ravenclaw families know what I have just told you, and we share the information as it is needed. The historians know, as I've said. Dumbledore knows, and he isn't broadcasting it either – which is the most surprising part, honestly, because it's not like he doesn't have big enough target on his head already. He could afford to do that without any danger to himself."

"Why doesn't he, then?"

Alexandra shrugged. "I suggest you ask him."

"After what he did to you this year," Alduin added, "nothing that man does surprises me any more."

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Harry really wanted to tell Draco about Riddle, but he didn't need to be a genius to see that if all those historians kept quiet about it out of fear, he shouldn't give a tip-off to a possible Death Eater's son. But he needed to tell someone, and Neville was the obvious choice.

"He is a half-blood?" His friend stared, turning away from the fire in front of which they were sitting. "But how come no one knows?"

So Harry went and explained the whole thing. Neville frowned. "I don't like it," he said. "I think people should know."

"Yeah, so do I, mate, but it's not really our call, is it? We can't just decide to put those people at risk..."

"I guess."

"And, I mean, it's not really an issue right now, since he seems to be gone for a while, at least."

"But if he comes back again?" Neville insisted.

"Then I'll do my best to convince my cousins to let the cat out of the bag. I'd be so great if people just laughed at him, you know! Not that I think you should laugh at half-bloods, obviously, but..."

"Yeah, I know. Him being one is totally rich."

Harry nodded in agreement. They stayed silent for a moment, and he looked out of the window in frustration with the weather. It was the most terrible kind of December – wet snow was falling, but it didn't keep on the ground. Harry missed their snow fort from last year. "So how was your Christmas haul?" He asked.

Neville smiled. "I got a two-way mirror like yours to talk to Gran," he said.

Harry grimaced. Two-way mirrors were cool, but in Neville's case, it just meant he would be forced to talk to his Gran very often.

"Yeah, I know what you're thinking," Neville agreed, "but honestly, it's better now for some reason. I don't know, maybe she thinks now I'm at Hogwarts, I'm more of a grown-up or something?"

"Well, you are! You've changed a lot in the year I've known you, you know."

"Well, you've changed too."

"I bet!"