Chapter 22

Face the Enemy

Friday, 11 October 1996

Dear Mr. and Mrs Weasley,

Another week, another letter, eh? Sorry, ice breaker joke.

So last week the big news was Gin throwing Fireball. This week, well with Ron getting into water and ice magic, he no longer gets cold. He already made the joke 'it's pretty cool'. Don't worry, I'm sure he'll still appreciate the Christmas jumper. We started on battle broom flight training. Tonks has had us flying all over the grounds and shooting target illusions. Exhausting and stressful as hell. Going that fast everything is intense. All that flying around the orchard this summer is really paying off. Thanks again for that. Gin is still absolutely fantastic on a broom. I can kind of keep up… sometimes… maybe.

Class is fine. Still a lot of Muggle Study cramming for Gin and Luna. Yes, I am keeping up on class for me too. I'm actually trying this year. You know how I am with Auror Training. Charms are right up there too. I think we mentioned, treating Potions as cooking helps tremendously. After this summer I have developed an appreciation for Runes. I can't say I have a huge love for Transfiguration, but Professor McGonagall is growing on me as a teacher so I am getting by.

Slipping into October the kitchen switched over to offering Pumpkin Spice drinks. Not my style, but Hermione is in heaven. Gin is just waiting for winter hot chocolate, fortunately I do have a connection.

You'll probably hear about this sooner or later so I will let you know. I threw a lightning bolt. I admit I was embarrassed a bit as the rest of the squad was fine with Bombardas at medium range. Even Ron and Gin did fine with like a 75 foot safety field up. Tonks wanted me to specifically throw Lightning Bolt so arrogant Harry Potter has to ask for the safety wall to be pushed back even further to 100 feet. I mean when it comes to defense magic, I'm used to being a little ahead of people. With the war starting and more practice and time in the field I feel like I'm pulling even further ahead and like … damn. McGonagall even made it a point to say my parents never did anything like that.

That really got me. I mean, on one hand it actually feels really good that something is NOT theirs, that I have stumbled into something original and something 'me'. But on the other hand even thinking that, much less writing that, feels disrespectful as hell. I'll be honest and say parental guidance would actually be appreciated on this.

-Harry

"Thank you for humoring us, Harry." Professor McGonagall replied after a brief look to confirm originality and then returned it back to Harry.

"No problem, Professor." He turned to walk away until the Professor stopped him.

"This too." She said, handing him a second note with his name on it … in Dumbledore's handwriting.

Dear Master Potter,

I would like our next private lesson this Saturday. Kindly come to my office at 8 P.M.

I have heard good things about you this semester.

Yours Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

"About time," Harry muttered after he read the note and pocketed it.

"What, Dumbledore is back now?" Ron asked with a grin.

"Apparently," Harry replied. "And he'd like to 'grace me with his presence' Saturday."

"You know, Harry, that will be two more private lessons than I've ever had under the most powerful wizard in the world." Hermione reminded coyly.

"Yes, Miracle, I know… Dumbledore is just…" Harry exhaled deeply as they walked along in the hall. "I'm not doubting his intelligence. I am frustrated by either his point of view, or priorities or … I don't know. Beginning of term he said he wanted to begin private lessons. Great.. One in two months? C'mon. Tonks has done a hell of a lot more for me in the same time."

"You do have a valid opinion. At least look at it this way. Regardless of the teacher, you are, we are, being trained. How many classes did you sit under Dumbledore before this year?"

"True," Harry begrudgingly admitted.

"And you are already working outside normal work loads."

"What else is new, right Harry?"

"Ronald, you joke but seriously. You have standard course work and do not try to say A.C.T. is a normal class level. We're also working on several of your personal projects. I don't know if you could manage more lessons with anyone, much less the Professor. If anything, I want to ask if you are okay?"

Harry stopped in the hall and stepped to the side and took a breath. "If I don't lie and say 'fine', and I admit to being a little stressed, will you also believe that I am managing?"

Hermione watched him closely. "Only if you promise if it gets too much you actually talk to one of the three of us. You have a history of bottling up too much, Harry."

"Deal, can we go to class now." Harry asked.

Hermione smiled. "Harry, I thought you'd never ask!" she turned and continued on to class.

Ron stuck with him as they walked. "So where 'Mione is just telling you to talk when you need to. I would like to invite you to some chess this weekend. You know something to actually relax."

"What, you miss wiping the walls with me?"

"You know me well, mate." Ron smiled, which was infectious and soon got Harry smiling too. Mission accomplished.

As they rounded the corner a blur of blonde hair and black and green crashed in him. "Ouff," a female voice cried as she bounced off Harry's athletic build used to taking hits. Reflexively he reached out to grab a hand as it waved wildly to steady them. Once they settled he saw Daphne leaning back on her heels and he held her steady in his hand. A flash of pure annoyance finally broke her generally calm demeanor. "Let go of me, you half-bred fool! Not every witch wants to be with you, you know." With her right hand she quickly pried Harry safety grip her left wrist and huffed as she quickly walked to catch up with her fellow Slytherins, who were already chuckling at Harry.

"Bloody hell, I 'spose next time you just let her fall on her arse?" Ron asked.

"I have no idea mate." Harry said. "You know, three months into a relationship with one I still feel like I don't know anything about girls."

"Tell me about it… wait, no don't." Ron replied, shaking his head.

"Sorry mate, how about 'How are you and 'Mione?' I am nowhere near as uncomfortable as you seem to be."

Ron smiled. "We're good. We study.. A lot… And I do mean actually studying, bollox."

"Hey, you fell for the one at top of the class."

"But she does appreciate a well timed joke. Give her a giggle to lighten her mood up. Seems to relax her."

"Merlin knows she needs that." Harry agreed.

"Yeah, She raised my grades, I raise her spirits. I 'spose it balances out."

As they walked Harry noticed a slight pressure and jab by his left wrist. He looked down to see the edge of a piece of paper

"What the hell?" he ask as he pulled out a small note.

All that glitters is not gold. Beware of jewelry at Hogsmeade.

A Lady in Green

"What do you reckon that means?"

"I have no idea Ron, but I get a feeling we are all going to find out."

Ginny met Harry in the common room again with a coat as requested and curiosity on her face. When they greeted in a hug, she whispered, "I don't need my goggles?"

"Nope," he grinned as he led her by the hand out and away.

With a smile of delight of not knowing where she was being led to but total trust for Harry, Ginny took a small thrill from the looks from the confused students wondering what they could possibly be planning when with this being a closed weekend and the first snowfall hitting.

Harry led the way up one of the spiral staircases to one of the tower lookouts again.

"You like these, don't you?" She asked.

Harry nodded. "Good view, and because of all the stairs up, few people come up." He replied, slipping his wizard pack off his shoulder. He pulled out a thermos and a tin mug, Harry poured and handed the steaming cup to Ginny. "Hot chocolate?" he offered with a wink.

"Anyone else I would ask how, but you I know how so… thank you."

"Happy to help, you sip on that as I prep the rest."

"Prepare?" Ginny watched with curiosity and a smile.

Harry pulled two sleeping bags out of his pack. He unzipped them both and stacked them to make a comfortable base and Ginny recognized the plan immediately, and she loved it. Harry transfigured for stakes into the stone floor at the around the sleeping bags, then drew out a cricket ball, made it float, the set it in the center of his invisibility cloak. Soon he held the last corner open. "Miss Weasley, may I introduce the return of the tent of invisibility.

"Perfect," she smiled, as she bent down and slipped in.

Harry soon followed. "You'll forgive me if I don't have a grand master plan tonight. But I figured the tent keeps the wind away. We've got a thermos or two of hot chocolate. Add some miscellaneous snacks, watch the snow fall, and talk… doesn't sound like a bad night."

"This is great, Harry, thank you." she said curling up next to him. "I wondered what you would do when winter came. My money was Room of Requirement."

"If you want, sure, happy to make use of that sometime."

"Later, another date. This is fine. Again, all I really ever want is time, and to your credit,you are delivering on that better than I ever hoped. I truly never planned on classes with you. Two of them is really nice."

"Even if one of them is N.E.W.T. in 90 days?"

"Especially. Just you and Luna is great. Study may be heavy but you two make it enjoyable. I know Luna feels the same."

"A.C.T.?" Harry asked.

"Great. If anything it feels like I've been able to drop Defense, especially last year's useless version, and I'm taking the D.A. and getting credit for it. Tonks has been great. Second best teacher I've ever had."

"Really?" Harry replied. "Who the hell was bett-" he started to ask, then realized. "No!"

"Of course, you." she full out laughed. "Harry, you stepped up, taught the lot of us with practically nothing, and did it well. I know you're looking at Auror for the war and I'm right there with you. But after that, you should think about teaching."

"Oh merlin, me officially teaching?"

"It worked for the D.A." she said, wrapping up around him in comfort.

Harry smiled and let the idea play in his head. 'Far from the worst idea', he thought about life after the war.

"What's your 'to do' list, Gin?"

"Hmm?" she asked.

"What do you want to do after the war?"

"Besides move in with you?" she smiled

"Of course, you are welcome regardless of career. But you know there are hours in the day, what do you want to do with them?"

"Likely stick with Nimbus as long as they keep me. Probably get more involved, I would guess."

"Makes sense," he said completely seriously. Which Ginny took immense comfort in. So much so it warmed her to hear and she decided to be brave herself for once. "Harry.. I don't know if I have ever told someone this before…. I want to play quidditch… professionally."

Without missing a beat, Harry's only question was. "Hollyhead Harpies, right?"

"You don't think I'm crazy?"

"Gin, I've seen you fly. You have skills. Go for it. Let me know if I can help. We'll pick up a flat or something while you're there… or wherever you get on."

Ginny sat up with surprise on her face. "You think you'd be happy following me around with a pro sports career."

Harry started counting with his fingers. "What's the problem? I love you. I like quidditch. Travel sounds interesting. Whatever team you call home we pick up a place together there. Apprating and floo travel are things. Ya Gin, really not worried about it."

Ginny couldn't remember the last time anyone had said anything halfway as supportive to her as Harry just was. She squeezed him tight. "I bloody love you."

Harry kissed the top of her head and enjoyed the flowery scent. "Love you too."

Then they settled to watch the snowfall and kept talking about everything and nothing all at once.

At breakfast the next morning, Hedwig flew a letter to Harry at the table.

Harry,

If you need to start a letter with a joke, that's fine. We're just happy to hear from you.

Don't you feel like you are being disrespectful for a moment. Son, you are literally at the age where everyone starts taking their steps out of their parents' shadows and becomes their own man. We could see that this summer, and we were proud of what we saw. They would be too.

I wouldn't be embarrassed by Lightning Bolt. I wouldn't be embarrassed by anything you do that sets you apart. You have skills, Harry. We all do. Embrace them. Take confidence in them. Ginny is a great example. However you feel about her and broom flying, that's how we all see you when you do something incredible, be it Lightning Bolt, or anything else. Try to have some confidence in yourself. Goodness knows you have much to be proud about. And you are a long way from being like the Malfoy's.

Ron and the rest of you, really didn't have a choice about the jumpers. Molly already has several of them made. It's tradition at this point! Though she is already having talks with Bill on where Christmas will be and who will be where. Molly is pretty firm that she wants the dinner here, (I don't think she's out of line.) But she also wants everyone to come and stay for a while. And with the Twins in their flat and Bill and Fleur at a certain London house and floo travel being what it is … several of them are less inclined to stay. My personal opinion is as long as I get to see my family a fair bit for the holiday I won't worry. I understand, and I even support you fixing up Grimmauld, but we would love all four of you kids at our place this holiday.

You keep your head up, Harry. You really are a fine man. You already do the only thing we could ever ask of you, keeping an eye on Ginny and the others. Thank you.

Love,

-Arthur

At the appointed hour, Harry again knocked on the office of Professor Dumbletore.

"Enter Harry," his voice called.

Harry came as he was called. Again he surveyed the collection that the Professor lived among. The splendor and glow did bring a grin to Harry's face. Dumbledore sat behind his large desk, looking more tired than normal. The pensive dish was already set on the desk. With his good hand he gestured to the chair across from him. Harry noticed a glove still over the injured hand. "Please Harry, have a seat. Lemondrop?"

"No, but thank you sir." Harry replied as he had a seat. And this time time couldn't help but feel like he had sat down to a chess game against Ron. Harry dismissed the feeling to focus on the meeting at hand.

"You have had a busy time this term." Dumbledore began.

"I'm trying this year."

"And we have made it …six weeks now without detention?"

"I'm trying this year." Harry repeated, and added a cocky grin.

"I can see. I understand you have risen to the tops of the Auror Cadets?"

"Hardly new."

"Potions? "

"You told me to get close to Professor Slughorn."

"Miss Weasley and Lovegood's O.W.L.'s?"

"They're smart witches, I'm just a tutor."

"Liverpool?"

"I'm good in a fight. We've known this."

"Lightning Bolt?"

"Tonks is a good teacher."

"Harry, tell me again how you dislike politics?" the Professor chuckled.

Harry paused for a moment, then interlaced his fingers as he rested his left leg over his right knee, settling in with a smile. "I'm good in a fight."

"You have grown Harry, very much from our meeting six months ago."

"Things change, sir. May I ask what has kept you away so much this term?"

"What makes you think I've been away?" The Professor asked.

"Notable extended absences from everything from announcements to meals. Lack of hardly any student seeing you do much of anything around the school. McGonagall being the one to make the decisions on matters such as awarding Field Cadets Prefect access." Harry extended fingers as he listed.

The Professor smiled again. "Auror duty will suit you, Harry."

"I'll take that admission to being away. Any chance I'll hear the stories?"

"Not tonight, as we have more pressing issues."

"Oh, does that mean I get to hear what happened to your hand?" Harry tried, already knowing the reply.

"Harry, I promise in time all things shall be clear."

Harry kept his mouth shut but raised an eyebrow in doubt.

"Good self control, Harry. Now what is of more concern for now is tonight's lesson You will remember, that we left the tale of a handsome muggle Tom Riddle, again Senior, so to speak and his witch wife Merope who had tricked him into marriage. At some point after consummation of the marriage, Riddle Sr, was able to return to his senses and returned to his family home in little Hangleton. Merope was left alone in London, pregnant with our Riddle."

"And we know this… how?" Harry asked.

"Because of evidence of one Caractacus Burke, one of the founders of Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley," he answered as he pulled a new bottle of silver memories from his cloak.

"Hagrid's warned me to steer clear of that area sir." Harry smiled.

"And I am so very glad you always listen to your elders, Harry." the Professor smiled back." Dumbledore poured the silver contents into the pensive and this time from the pensive the Professor seemed to coax from the dish an illusionary ghost of an older man with a thatch of hair completely covering his eyes. "Caractacus Burke," the Professor gestured and introduced.

Knowing he was only looking at an illusion made from a memory, Harry simply nodded in understanding.

Finally Burke spoke. "Yes, we acquired it in … curious circumstances. It was Brought in by a young witch just before Christmas, oh, many years ago now. She said she needed the gold badly, well, that much was obvious. Covered in rags and pretty far along… Going to have a baby, see. She said the locket had been Slytherin's. Well, we hear that sort of story all the time, 'Oh this was Merlin's favorite teapot.' But when I looked at it, it had his spell mark allright and a few simple spells were enough to tell me the truth. Of course that made it near enough priceless. She didn't seem to have any idea how much it was worth. Happy to get ten Galleons for it she was. Best bargain we ever made!"

"He only gave her ten galleons for it?" Harry said indignantly.

"Caractacus Burke was not famed for his generosity," Dumbldore explained as he drew a wand and pulled the memory back to its vial. "From this we know that, near the end of her pregnancy, Merope was alone in London and in desperate need of gold, desperate enough to sell her one and only valuable possession, the locket that was Marvolo's treasured family heirlooms."

"Professor, please tell me you are not telling me the story of Riddle's broken home for me to find sympathy for the man. Respectfully, I know a little about a shite family life, because of him, and I haven't become some dark lord."

"Well… not a dark one at least." Dumbledore grinned.

"Professor!" Harry was rendered speechless.

"Pardon the humor, Harry. I wanted to give you one last joke before we dive further into the sad tale Tom Riddle," he said as he stood.

Harry followed the example and shook his head clear of annoyance.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, unconsciously stretching his muscles as if about to go for a run.

"Now is where I enter the story. We are going to enter my memory, which I am certain you will find both rich in detail and satisfyingly accurate."

"Accurate? Wait does that mean memories can be-

"After you, Harry." Dumbledore rested his good hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry bit his tongue. He knew the uselessness of pressing his question. Dumbledore may be the smartest wizard in the world, but he had to be the most frustrating.

Harry bent over and dropped his head in the pensive like he was washing his face. Then felt as if he was falling through darkness again. Seconds later his feet found firm ground and the darkness gave way to an old fashioned London street. Complete with the clopping of a horse-drawn milk cart clopping by.

Professor Dumbledore looked around then smiled. "Ah, there I am." He pointed to a tall figure across the road wearing a flamboyant plum velvet suit.

"Professor, as someone raised muggle, and even earned their N.E.W.T. in Muggle Studies, may I take this opportunity to say you wizards need to work on blending in on this side."

"I will take you word for it, Harry." his Professor replied as he led the way largely following the younger Dumbledore through the orphanage and met with the Matron who needed to have a few explanations to her satisfaction and Riddle's entrance to Hogwarts essentially guaranteed before she would speak freely. Harry found a corner to stay out of traffic's way while she relayed the story of Merope's arrival, Riddle's delivery and naming, and Merope's passing all within the span of a few hours. Again Harry wondered if this was going to be some ill advised attempt to generate sympathy that was most definitely not coming. Apparently, as the boy grew up he began to scare the other children. Apparently there was an incident where Riddle had stolen and killed a pet rabbit. Another with a cave during a field trip. Harry was appreciating the First Contact protocol more and more.

Eventually the Madam of the institution led Harry and the two Dumbledores to a small bare room and closed the door on all of them. There was no true life in the room. It was barren except an old wardrobe, wooden chair and an iron bedstead. And there on the bed sat the man who would be lord. Tom Riddle was his father in miniature, a handsome man by any standard. Harry wondered what the hell this boy had to do over the next few years to turn into the monster he'd faced and had to face again.

The younger Dumbledore started talking. "How do you do, Tom? I am Professor Dumbledore." he greeted, extending his hand and shaking with the boy. He took the chair and

" 'Professor'?" repeated Riddle. He looked wary.

"Is that like 'doctor'? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?" He was pointing at the door through which Mrs. Cole had just left.

"No, no," said Dumbledore, smiling.

"I don't believe you," said Riddle.

Harry watched intently as the young human looking Riddle and the young-er looking Dumbledore bickered back and forth about who Dumbledore was and whether or not he was going to escort Riddle to an asylum.

"Tell the truth!" He spoke the last three words with a ringing force that was almost shocking. It was a command, and it sounded as though he had given it many times before. His eyes had widened and he was glaring at the younger Dumbledore, who made no response except to continue smiling pleasantly. After a few seconds Riddle stopped glaring, though he looked, if anything, warier still.

"Who are you?"

As the younger Dumbledor went on to explain about Hogwarts, Harry turned to his Professor. "That was not normal. Was he already casting spells before school?"

His Professor shook his head dismissively. "Not casting formal spell, but as you are aware emotion has very many connections to magic. I believed then and still do today Riddle was using his power to further coerce individuals to his will, though at his age and skill, it would only have affected weak minded muggles."

"Which would explain his reaction when you did nothing."

"Good observation Harry, my question at the time was did he know he was doing that or was it reflexive."

"At the time? Have you come to a decision now?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore sighed in regret. "Looking back, I am rather certain he knew he had such an ability. He didn't know to call it magic until I told him. But he knew he could do such things, yes."

"Magic?" Riddle repeated in a whisper.

"That's right," said the younger Dumbledore.

"It's . . . it's magic, what I can do?"

"What is it that you can do?"

"All sorts," breathed Riddle. A flush of excitement was rising up his neck into his hollow cheeks; he looked fevered. "I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to."

Harry stared at the boy who would be his parents' murderer with disdain. Somehow, he was not surprised that hurting people started at such a young age.

"I knew I was different," Riddle whispered to his own quivering fingers. "I knew I was special. Always, I knew there was something."

"Well, you were quite right," said Dumbledore, who was no longer smiling, but watching Riddle intently. "You are a wizard."

Memories of when Hagrid uttered those words to Harry filled his mind, as well as when Tonks said, 'Georgie is literally magical.' Harry couldn't help but recognize how a few words in a single sentence coul change a person's life, far greater than any spell.

When Riddle heard those words lifted his head. His face was transfigured: There was a wild happiness upon it, yet for some reason it did not make him better looking; on the contrary, his finely carved features seemed somehow rougher, his expression almost bestial.

"Are you a wizard too?"

"Yes, I am."

"Prove it," said Riddle at once, in the same commanding tone he had used when he had said, "Tell the truth."

Harry again felt like a mild surge of power in the air.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "If, as I take it, you are accepting your place at Hogwarts —"

"Of course I am!"

"Then you will address me as 'Professor' or 'sir.' "

Riddle's expression hardened for the most fleeting moment before he said, in an unrecognizably polite voice, "I'm sorry, sir. I meant - please, Professor, could you show me - ?"

Harry was sure that Dumbledore was going to refuse, that he would tell Riddle there would be plenty of time for practical demonstrations at Hogwarts, that they were currently in a building full of Muggles and must therefore be cautious. To his great surprise, however, Dumbledore drew his wand from an inside pocket of his suit jacket, pointed it at the shabby wardrobe in the corner, and gave the wand a casual flick.

The wardrobe burst into flames.

"Bloody hell, Professor!" Harry yelled to the elder as he jumped in surprise. "When I introduced someone to magic, I just lit some candles. Gin poured a cup of water. This?!"

His Professor shrugged. "I am rarely a subtle man."

Riddle jumped to his feet, but even as he did the flames vanished, leaving the wardrobe completely undamaged.

Riddle looked from the wardrobe to Dumbledore; then, his expression greedy, he pointed at the wand. "Where can I get one of them?"

"All in good time," said Dumbledore. "I think there is something trying to get out of your wardrobe."

And sure enough, a faint rattling could be heard from inside it. For the first time, Riddle looked frightened.

"Open the door," said Dumbledore.

Riddle hesitated, then crossed the room and threw open the wardrobe door. On the topmost shelf, above a rail of threadbare clothes, a small cardboard box was shaking and rattling as though there were several frantic mice trapped inside it.

"Take it out," said Dumbledore.

Riddle took down the quaking box. He looked unnerved.

"Is there anything in that box that you ought not to have?" asked Dumbledore.

Riddle threw Dumbledore a long, clear, calculating look. "Yes, I suppose so, sir," he said finally, in an expressionless voice.

"Open it," said Dumbledore.

Riddle took off the lid and tipped the contents onto his bed without looking at them. Harry, looked closely, quickly went through the images of the horcruxes in his mind again for refreshing and looked with intent… and was disappointed. All he saw was a mess of small, everyday objects: a yo-yo, a silver thimble, and a tarnished mouth organ among them. Once free of the box, they stopped quivering and lay quite still upon the thin blankets.

"Expecting something else, Harry?" his Professor asked.

Harry doubled down on trying to keep his face stoic. "Auror training, trying to pay attention to details." he tried to reply dryly.

The younger Dumbledore instructed Riddle to return the items and warned him not to continue with such actions at Hogwarts.

"Where do you buy spellbooks?" interrupted Riddle, who had taken the heavy money bag without thanking Dumbledore, and was now examining a fat gold Galleon.

"In Diagon Alley," said Dumbledore. "I have your list of books and school equipment with me. I can help you find everything —"

"You're coming with me?" asked Riddle, looking up.

"Certainly, if you —"

"I don't need you," said Riddle. "I'm used to doing things for myself, I go round London on my own all the time."

"And Snape calls me arrogant." Harry muttered.

"Professor Snape," his Dumbledor corrected, then smiled.

"Was my father a wizard? He was called Tom Riddle too, they've told me."

"I'm afraid I don't know," said Dumbledore, his voice gentle.

Harry turned and looked at his Professor with eyebrows raised expectantly.

"At the time I did not. My attendance that day was in response to a report of this boy's magical abilities. I did not dig into his background until later in both of our lives and … realizing who he would be."

"My mother can't have been magic, or she wouldn't have died," said Riddle, more to himself than Dumbledore.

Harry crossed his arms and glared at Riddle.

"It must've been him. So — when I've got all my stuff — when do I come to this Hogwarts?"

"All the details are on the second piece of parchment in your envelope," said Dumbledore. "You will leave from King's Cross Station on the first of September. There is a train ticket in there too."

Riddle nodded. Dumbledore got to his feet and held out his hand again. Taking it, Riddle said, "I can speak to snakes. I found out when we've been to the country on trips — they find me, they whisper to me. Is that normal for a wizard?"

Harry could tell that he had withheld mention of this strangest power until that moment, determined to impress.

"It is unusual," said Dumbledore, after a moment's hesitation, "but not unheard of."

His tone was casual but his eyes moved curiously over Riddle's face. They stood for a moment, man and boy, staring at each other. Then the handshake was broken; Dumbledore was at the door.

"Good-bye, Tom. I shall see you at Hogwarts."

Harry's eyes wouldn't leave Riddle. He didn't dare say it, he didn't want it, but two thoughts divided his mind. He began focused on a single thought. One that had consumed him for months, 'I'm coming for you.' The second was new, thanks to this memory. The passing loss of Riddle's parents, his life here in this place. If Harry was honest to himself, which he was trying to be, he couldn't deny similarities, and they didn't sit well.

"I think that will do," his Dumbledore said, and seconds later, they were soaring weightlessly through darkness once more, before landing squarely in the Headmaster's office.

"Sit down," said Dumbledore, landing beside Harry.

Harry obeyed, his mind still full of what he had just seen. "Did you know… then?" asked Harry.

"Did I know that I had just met the most dangerous Dark wizard of all time?" said Dumbledore. "No, I had no idea that he was to grow up to be what he is. However, I was certainly intrigued by him. I returned to Hogwarts intending to keep an eye upon him, something I should have done in any case, given that he was alone and friendless, but which, already, I felt I ought to do for others' sake as much as his.

"His powers, as you heard, were surprisingly well-developed for such a young wizard and — most interestingly and ominously of all — he had already discovered that he had some measure of control over them, and begun to use them consciously. And as you saw, they were not the random experiments typical of young wizards: He was already using magic against other people, to frighten, to punish, to control. The little stories of the strangled rabbit and the young boy and girl he lured into a cave were most suggestive. In fact, his obvious instincts for cruelty, secrecy, and domination are what were of most concern to me after that visit."

"Time is making fools of us again," said Dumbledore, indicating the dark sky beyond the windows. "But before we part, I want to draw your attention to certain features of the scene we have just witnessed, for they have a great bearing on the matters we shall be discussing in future meetings.

"Firstly, I hope you noticed Riddle's reaction when I mentioned that another shared his first name, 'Tom'?"

Harry nodded.

"There he showed his contempt for anything that tied him to other people, anything that made him ordinary. Even then, he wished to be different, separate, notorious. He shed his name, as you know, within a few short years of that conversation and created the mask of 'Lord Voldemort' behind which he has been hidden for so long. "I trust that you also noticed that Tom Riddle was already highly self-sufficient, secretive, and, apparently, friendless? He did not want help or companionship on his trip to Diagon Alley. He preferred to operate alone. The adult Voldemort is the same. You will hear many of his Death Eaters claiming that they are in his confidence, that they alone are close to him, even understand him. They are deluded. Lord Voldemort has never had a friend, nor do I believe that he has ever wanted one."

"And lastly — I hope you are not too sleepy to pay attention to this, Harry — the young Tom Riddle liked to collect trophies. You saw the box of stolen articles he had hidden in his room. These were taken from victims of his bullying behavior, souvenirs, if you will, of particularly unpleasant bits of magic. Bear in mind this magpie-like tendency, for this, particularly, will be important later."

"And now, it really is time for bed. And tonight especially, I would encourage you to give Miss Weasley my best."

"Sir, we're already past lights out." Harry replied with a grin.

Dumbledore beamed at him, peering over the top of his halfmoon spectacles. "Harry, I'm a wizard, not a fool."

"Yes sir, "Harry got to his feet. As he walked across the room, his eyes fell upon the little table on which Marvolo Gaunt's ring had rested last time, but the ring was no longer there. "Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?" said Dumbledore, for Harry had come to a halt. "The ring's gone," said Harry, looking around. "But I thought you might have the mouth organ or something."

"Very astute, Harry, but the mouth organ was only ever a mouth organ."

Harry could tell he was expected to leave, but he had gotten very comfortable in breaking expectations. The Professor's statement was sticking in his head. "That, sir, suggests the ring was something more?"

"You know, Harry, auror work will suit you very well. Good night."

Harry's head was spinning as he met the Fat Lady's door. "Do you know what hour it is?" She asked.

"Do you know what these pins mean?" he replied, pointing to the Field Cadet Ministry pin that he had started to wear standardly. If McGonagal was going to grant them the access, he was damn well going to make use of it.

"Hmm yes… student soldiers… What is this world coming to?" she muttered.

"War, lady, it came to a god damn war!" Harry snapped. "Now open up so I go to bed."

"Hmm, well I never!" She replied as she did indeed open.

Everything else he has to deal with, constant arguing with his own front door always rubbed him the wrong way.

Harry walked into the Common Room which was actually quiet at this hour. He looked around and just as he never asked but did expect, a crimson crown of fiery locks laying on the left arm of the couch by the fireplace. He walked around to see her resting peacefully, curled up on half on the couch, with her copy of muggle studies fallen open onto the floor. He bent down to pick it up and was greeted with that blessed flowery scent. Harry took a knee and just spent a moment looking at … his girl. Dating the girl with the world's largest independent streak, it still felt odd to think like that to him. But after the Battle of the Burrow, after the jersey, after both of them having a row with Romilda he intellectually knew it was true. Just after so many damn years with the Dursleys he often found it hard to believe they were together. Harry felt like he was almost breaking the law being so lucky to steal a moment to just see how pretty she was from her fiery hair down to her freckled face. He'd been content to just count the freckles all night till her eyes fluttered awake.

"Hey you," she greeted warmly.

"Hey Gin," Harry answered. "You know you didn't have to wait for me, right?"

"Have to? No." she said, sitting up and waking up. "Chose to, wanted to, happy to." She patted the seat for him to sit next to her. As soon as he did she stretched out her legs over his lap and smiled as she was also further claiming him as hers, which Harry didn't mind in the slightest. He again appreciated that Ginny had gone as far as using her Nimbus income to purchase herself all new uniforms that fit her figure well, including a few skirts. So as Harry was able to take hand with his left, his other fell to her bare knee, which made them both smile.

"Got a conversation in you?" he asked, mostly out of courtesy.

"For you, I have all night." she smiled earnestly.

"Well, last month's lesson was all about Riddle's parents. Today, we met the man himself, or boy I should say." Harry let his gaze wander into the fire. As he recounted the lesson. Ginny's hand never left his, this time it was her thumb rubbing back and forth reassuringly across the back of his.

Only when it was clear he was done did she chip in. "Okay, I'm with you. I only kinda see a little value in knowing the early years of Riddle. But, what's got you rattled babe?"

"There are similarities between Riddle and myself that I can't deny and … I don't like." Harry paused and took a courage breath. The first that he had in months. "Both of us lost our parents as babies, then raised as orphans in …. less than ideal situations. Neither of us knew about magic until Hogwarts told us, then we both embraced it."

Harry paused and took another breath. He looked away from the fire. He bowed his head down and closed his eyes. "I can't deny that in the last few weeks my abilities have grown significantly. So the nagging paranoia in my brain is … am I the next bastard? You know that old expression of 'you either die a hero live long enough to be the vill-"

"Harry Potter!" Ginny snapped. "Don't you even finish that sentence." She quickly slid over from being next to him to sitting on his lap proper. Wrapping her right arm around his neck and gently caressing his cheek with the other. "You are no villain. You never could be."

Harry started to speak again, only for her to hush him. "Look at me." she asked quietly firmly. As Harry wrapped around her waist he again found comfort in those warm chocolate eyes. "Harry, if there are two things I know in life, it is you and Riddle and you are as opposite as can be. You may have had a similar starting point, but very early on you went right and he went left. He kills and tortures and destroys, all to save his own arse and gain power. You sacrifice yourself again and again, you voluntarily take the pain, all to save others. He creates danger. You run to it, all to save others. You've what, saved my life three times now?"

"I don't keep count, babe," he shrugged.

"I am, so believe me, when I say you are the hero. You are mine and everyone else's. You don't have it in you to be the monster."

"Thank you… I just … don't want to get-"

"Harry… baby… that's not even possible. Look, you were saying Riddle was a loner, right. Never had a friend, right?"

"Ya, basically." he nodded.

"You - are - not - alone. You've recreated the Marauders. Riddle wouldn't do that. Hell, you're even starting to get Professors like McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, and Tonks on your side. I absolutely guarantee I will be first in line to slap you if you even started to go too far. They will be right there with me. We're all a team."

Harry shrugged.

Ginny smiled and shook her head slightly. "Okay, how about this," she said, grabbing his tie with one hand. "I love you, and I would never do this with Riddle." Ginny leaned in to kiss Harry deliberately and with intent and purpose. Not with the lust, passion, and desire of one of their snogging sessions but this time filled with feelings of love, affection, trust and devotion.

"Thank You, Gin."