Chapter 13: Thirteen

Chapter 12: Twelve

Notes:

So from this point onwards I shall refer to the third Tom as Riddle, until the character specifically states that he's going to be named Marvolo (which will be next chapter), and then it'll change for the last time. I hope that's not too confusing.

Chapter Text

X

The next morning Harry awoke feeling worse than he had the day before. Although he had slept for a long time; the room was now filled with bright light streaming in from behind the curtains, he felt somewhat groggy and achy. His cut hand was throbbing slightly, and he scowled into the pillow, not wanting to get up. He felt cold and the bed was plenty warm.

"You can't stay in there all day," Tom's voice said somewhere above him, as a cold hand forced it's way onto his forehead and he heard Tom tut.

Harry just pulled away and wormed deeper into the bed, wincing when Tom yanked the covers from him.

"I'm afraid I have to be out today. Something…urgent has come up, and the Dark Lord and I will be gone for a few days, leaving now. You appear to be coming down with something so I'd like for you to go straight to the nurse on your arrival at school."

Tom sounded slightly angry, though Harry didn't know whether the anger was aimed at him or whatever was going on with Voldemort, but despite that he was incredibly grateful Tom wouldn't have time to question him this morning; if he found out the truth, given the mood they were both in, he didn't see it ending well.

The Gryffindor forcibly made himself sit up, trying to get his bearings as the room started to spin. He wondered if it was the poison taking effect or if he had simply come down with something.

"Don't get your hopes up that I'll have forgotten our talk, Harry," Tom reminded him with a smirk. Harry resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at the Dark wizard.

Tom left after that, and it took Harry a bit longer than usual to get himself out of bed and ready for the day. Even after showering and dressing he longed for the comfort of the bed.

He slowly made his way from the room, pausing before each new corridor and doorway to hear if there were any voices, but the Manor seemed to be deserted. He wondered if it had anything to do with what Tom and Voldemort were leaving for.

It was so quiet that Harry jumped when Narcissa Malfoy appeared in front of him.

"Hello, Harry," she greeted kindly. "It's very quiet today; perhaps you could keep me company and join me for some tea."

The tone of her voice suggested she wasn't really offering Harry a choice, so he nodded and followed her to a large and cosy sitting room overlooking the gardens.

Dobby was already waiting for them, a steaming pot of tea in his small hands, and upon their arrival he shakily poured out two cups for them, before bowing and vanishing from the room.

Narcissa indicated for him to sit in a chair across from her, and he took a sip of the hot tea as to not appear impolite.

"Nice tea," he said awkwardly, wondering what the woman's motive was for talking to him.

"We only get the best," Narcissa told him, sipping her own drink. "It's wonderful being in love, isn't it?"

"What?" Harry asked quickly, taking his eyes away from his cup to land on Narcissa.

"Being in love," she repeated, waving a hand. "I can see it in your eyes; the same look I have whenever I think of my Lucius. I suppose love is the only way someone from your family would ever consider joining our side."

"Well that's not the only reason," Harry muttered as he shrugged.

"I didn't mean that as a criticism," Narcissa assured him. "I was the same as you when I was young. I was raised understanding the values of blood purity; you know the Black Family motto?"

"Toujours Pur," Harry answered, remembering Sirius telling him years ago. "Meaning Always Pure."

Narcissa nodded. "We weren't a family of Death Eaters, though we believed in their cause, but then I met Lucius and we fell in love, and Lucius wanted to join the Dark Lord. As his wife and lover I accepted that, even assisting him in whatever ways I could, though I shall never take the Mark. However, despite my love for my husband and my willingness to accept him, what I cannot abide by is my son becoming involved; a mother's love for her child far outweighs that of her love for her husband."

"Do you know everything Draco's been asked to do then?" Harry enquired, looking at the woman with concern.

"Oh yes, I know," Narcissa said softly, her gaze drifting off, making her look entirely lost. "I am eternally grateful for you. Draco needs help, and I have asked a friend for assistance, but you are Draco's own age, and though you may not be school friends, a bond is growing between you and this will give Draco strength. He may not say so, but I know he is glad of your help."

"I have to help him, he doesn't deserve what the Dark Lord has planned for him otherwise," Harry answered with a small smile.

"I have two older sisters; Bellatrix and Andromeda. They are only a year apart, but I'm a few years younger than the pair, and I watched them both grow up in different directions. Bellatrix married a Pure-blood who she didn't truly love, becoming a Death Eater straight from school, while Andromeda married a Muggle-born and was disowned from the family. I disprove of Andromeda's choice of husband, but I knew she was happy, and her daughter, my niece, has been free to live her life as she wished and has had a safe and successful life so far. Yes, I do disprove of my sister, but I envy her for the life she has provided for her child."

"Does Bellatrix have any children?" Harry asked curiously, and Narcissa shook her head.

"She was still at Hogwarts when she fell pregnant. Due to her age and being out of wedlock, my mother killed the baby while it was still in the womb; Bellatrix could not bear to carry another after that, and I believe she devoted herself to the Dark Lord to distract herself from her pain. She is very much in love with the Dark Lord, and so she views Lord Riddle as her own son now."

Harry almost felt sorry for Bellatrix, had she not been the psychotic murderer of his Godfather.

They finished their tea in a comfortable silence, occasionally broken by Narcissa asking him questions about school and his plans for after graduation. She seemed to be friendly and somewhat motherly to him, but he could feel her depression coming off her in waves.

"Is it possible to get to Grimmauld Place from here?" Harry asked as the thought came to him.

"Of course, but I shall only tell you on one condition," she told him, and Harry nodded, indicating for her to continue. "Please take Draco with you; I don't want them returning and deciding to take Draco with them."

Harry nodded, Narcissa returning the gesture, and she called for Dobby to collect Draco for them.

"Draco, darling, I'd like you to accompany Harry to Grimmauld Place," his mother greeted, and though her voice was gentle, he could hear the motherly order in it as well.

"Certainly Mother," Draco replied, shooting a questioning glance at Harry who chose to ignore it for the time being.

Narcissa led the boys to another room with a large fireplace in and nothing more. She grabbed a pot from the top of the fireplace, which had the Black logo across the front. The Floo Powder she pressed into Draco's hand was the usual grey-ish colour, but it had specks of deep blue amongst it.

"Only those of Black blood can activate this Floo," Narcissa explained to Harry. "You'll have to travel with Draco."

The Slytherin threw the Powder into the flames, using his finger and thumb only to grab at Harry's wrist, pulling him into the now green fire.

"12, Grimmauld Place, London," Draco called, and moments later the pair were spluttering as they stumbled out the fireplace the other end.

Draco let go of Harry the moment he got his bearings straight.

"Why do you need to be here? How did you even know about this place?" Draco questioned, dropping the polite attitude he had used with his mother.

"My Godfather owned it; I guess I technically own it now, but it won't be official until I'm seventeen, not that I particularly want the place," Harry said with a shrug. "I wanted Remus to have it-you know, Professor Lupin? But he's not allowed."

"Of course not," Draco murmured. "Maybe when you're seventeen you could pass it on to another Black relative; the only way you'll be able to be rid of it now is to hand it over to family."

"Is that your way of asking me for a house?" Harry said with a grin, and even Draco smirked.

"Well it's either me or my Death Eater Aunt," the blond added, making Harry shake his head.

"Oh no, you have a dis-inherited Aunt and cousin who could own it; they're still Blacks even if they were blasted off the family tree."

"Of course, I forgot about Aunt Andromeda. Father never liked Mother to mention her," Draco muttered. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Library," Harry answered simply. "I've tried yours and Hogwarts but they've not got what I need."

"It wasn't in the Manor's library?" Draco repeated with surprise. "How Dark are the spells you're looking at?"

"Err, pretty Dark," Harry answered honestly, taken slightly aback at the impressed look on Draco's face.

"I didn't know you had it in you, Potter," he commended. "I'll have a look at the library as well; I heard Great-Aunt Walburga had a vast collection."

"Hmm," Harry murmured. "Her portrait is down another hallway somewhere. I was never allowed near it but I could hear her screaming throughout the house. She'd like you though, I bet."

"I'd rather not; Mother said she was nearly as insane as Aunt Bellatrix. I was angry at her for what she did you know; blood-traitor or not, Sirius was still a Pure-blood and the last male heir of the Black family."

Harry just nodded mutely, turning away from Draco, the topic of Sirius still being a sore subject.

"I think we can get to the library through this doorway and avoid Mrs Black. I haven't been here much but I think that's right," Harry said, determinedly changing the subject.

It turned out that Harry was right and they managed to make it to the library without disturbing the screaming portrait. Harry thought he saw a small pair of beedy eyes watching them at one point but he couldn't be sure.

Draco had become thoroughly entranced with a book about murdering somebody without a wand, and had ceased all conversation with Harry as he read.

The first book Harry grabbed, only wanting to move it out of the way, had burnt him, and as the title was 'Ways to Protect Belongings from Those with Dirty Blood', he wasn't all that surprised.

He was slightly more wary after that, but after some time searching, when Draco was over half way in his book, he had managed to find two books about Ancient Magic which had information on Horcruxes in, although one was written in Ancient Greek and he'd need some way to translate that, as the only thing he understood was the name of the Author; Herpo the Foul. However he could find a spell for translating or something similar easily in Hogwarts. Surprisingly, despite the large size of Grimmauld Place library it didn't have any books not centred on Dark Arts.

Harry also managed to find a book about the Veil Sirius had fallen through, and he shoved it into his bag to read when he didn't have to quickly find a way to free a soul from a Horcrux.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked suddenly, and Harry looked up at him.

"What?" he answered dumbly.

"I've called your name three times; you're spacing out. You're not coming down with something contagious are you?" Draco asked warily, edging his chair slightly further away from Harry.

"Oh, yeah, I don't feel great but it's not contagious. Think I just had an allergic reaction to something; that happens sometimes," Harry lied, but Draco seemed to accept his answer.

"Well I've found a fascinating curse in here," the Slytherin told Harry proudly. "It puts a deadly curse on an object so whoever touches it is killed instantly. I can find a way to deliver that to Dumbledore and it won't be able to be traced back to me."

"And you won't have to look him in the eyes before you kill him," Harry said under his breath, but Draco heard him and scowled, though he had no response to Harry's comment.

"I think I might get Blaise to do my school-work for me from now on. You can come here at weekends to find out information on the Cabinet while I set up this curse."

"Sure-what is that?" Harry said, eyes zoning in as he saw the eyes again before they disappeared around a corner.

Harry jumped to his feet and turned into the aisle, where he could see something small attempting to hide behind a pile of books. Harry would recognise House-elf ears anywhere.

"Hello?" he called out. If the House-elf belonged to the house, it would now be his elf, and so should have to answer any order he had. "Come out to face me now, please."

Draco was behind him now, and they both watched as an old, angry looking House-elf left it's hiding spot, sulkily walking towards them.

"Are you my House-elf?" Harry asked the creature, and it nodded.

"Yes. What would my poor Mistress say, knowing Kreacher was having to serve a disgusting Half-blood, blood-traitor; Godson of Mistress' traitor son?"

"He may be Half-blood but he's no blood-traitor; he knows who to follow," Draco said in defence of him. "Stupid elf doesn't know what he's talking about."

"Err, Kreacher? Walburga Black was your favourite mistress then?"

"Oh yes, Mistress was very important to Kreacher, and Master Regulus; very kind to Kreacher he was," the elf told him

"Well, listen, I'm not going to be here much, so you can have free reign of the house unless I need you, and I'm going to let you keep anything you want belonging to Walburga or Regulus, apart from clothing, okay?" Harry said, in an attempt to soften the bitter House-elf up.

It seemed to work as the Elf's face seemed to light up; he could feel Draco rolling his eyes.

"That is very kind of you, Master. Kreacher will take good care of Mistress' and Master Regulus' belongings."

"Good, and don't call me Master; my name's Harry."

"No, Kreacher must treat Master with respect," Kreacher replied, looking at Harry with curiosity.

"Well, fine, but how about you go and have a look now? See if there's anything you like," Harry said, and the elf bowed before popping out.

"I don't see why you're so nice to them," Draco commented, and this time Harry rolled his eyes.

"You saw how angry he seemed before I was nice to him; a happy House-elf will be more loyal and work better."

"Whatever; we need to be getting back to Hogwarts soon."

As they were packing up to leave, Kreacher popped back in to see them.

"Master, I found this for you; it smells like you," he said, holding out a gold locket with a snake-like 'S' made from glittery green emeralds. Harry knew instantly what it was; the atmosphere around it was almost identical to the diadem.

"Kreacher, I need you to hide that in this house somewhere, and you are only to let me know where you hid it when I ask for it, okay?" he demanded, eyes growing wider as he could almost see the locket shaking.

Kreacher nodded and disappeared again, and Draco was looking at him awe-struck.

"Wasn't that Salazar Slytherin's locket?" the blond asked, amazed, and Harry nodded.

"We don't need it falling into the wrong hands, do we?" Harry responded.

Harry didn't think anymore of the locket as they returned to Hogwarts.

X

On Monday, Harry woke up feeling noticeably worse. He couldn't contain his shivering, and despite the beads of sweat on his forehead he could feel no warmth.

"I think I've just got a bad cold," he insisted to his dorm-mates who were trying to force him to see Madame Pomfrey.

He felt well enough to go to lessons and read the English-written book he had, but nothing of relevance came up.

On Tuesday, along with his fever he now had moment of dizziness to contend with. He battled through this in the morning, but by the afternoon he was feeling worse than before. He only had one more day until the poison killed him, and as he tried to cast a translation spell over Herpo the Foul's book he found his magic core was too weak to allow him to do that. Using Ancient magic almost caused him to collapse.

In a moment of desperation on Tuesday evening he found himself knocking on Snape's door.

"What do you want?" the professor snarled as way of greeting.

"Please, Severus, I need to talk to you," Harry said, calling him Severus to indicate it wasn't a school related problem.

"I told you to call me Professor Snape whilst we're at Hogwarts, Potter" the man hissed, getting ready to slam his door, but Harry reached a hand out to stop it.

"Please, it's urgent," he begged, wincing at how broken his voice sounded.

"Fine, come in, Harry," Snape said shortly, but his switch to Harry's first name told him that Snape was willing to listen.

As Severus shut the door behind him, Harry started to unravel the cloth from his hand.

"Are you unwell?" Snape questioned, and Harry nodded, showing his cut hand to Snape. The professor's eyes widened dramatically as he took sight of the injury which was now deep red and spread underneath his pale skin. "Poison? How has this happened? You need to get to a Healer immediately. I shall inform Lily for you."

"No!" Harry cried. "There's no point; it will kill me tomorrow evening. I just wondered if you knew what it was that did it; I know who can help me if I know what was used. But Mum will go crazy if you tell her; please don't."

Snape looked deep into Harry's eyes, frowning as he did so.

"Strange; there's a block, but it isn't quite Occlumency, almost as if this happened in another time," Snape muttered, more to himself than Harry. He took hold of Harry's hand and examined the cut, and after a few minutes he sighed and shook his head. "I'm afraid I cannot source the poison used. I can tell it's from a plant, and I can narrow it down to a type, but within that type are too many options and further tests would take too long."

"That's okay," Harry said softly, "it was worth a shot. Thank you anyway."

"Harry, stop, I don't know what's going on with you; you've clearly been taught Occlumency by an expert, and now you've been poisoned by some natural Dark magic; what exactly are you involved in?"

"It doesn't matter," Harry said, and Snape scowled.

"Of course it does; it's putting your life at risk; do you really have to be such a fool you'll allow yourself to be put in these situations? Your mother would die of a broken heart if you were to be killed."

"I won't be; I'll figure this out myself; just keep this quiet, please," Harry begged, and Snape nodded.

"I'm sorry, you know," the man said softly. "I hated your father and you were so like him as a child that I've never seen you as anything but James, even when you changed into your own person. As a professor I'm meant to stop bullying, but I ignored your troubles, thinking James deserved a taste of his own medicine, but of course it didn't affect James; it affected you. I know from personal experience how easy the Dark Arts can draw you in when you have no other comfort; I should have seen the signs, but now it's too late. I only hope your mother forgives me for failing you."

"How do you-?"

"Your Occlumency is good but not better than mine. I know you're soliciting with Death Eaters, but I don't know how deep or what you're caught up in, due to this block, though whatever it is, it's something bad. I've kept your alliance secret; it's your own choice."

"Thank you, just, trust me when I say I'll work this out and my parents won't have to bury their child."

"They better not have to," Snape said sharply, but he inclined his head as he showed Harry the door. "I expect you to do nothing but study this until tomorrow evening."

Harry returned to his dormitory to read.

Harry tried to do as Snape asked, but he was so tired from reading he ended up passing out, thankfully on his bed.

Neville pulled the curtains away from his bed Wednesday morning, and Harry hissed as the bright light blinded him, causing his head to start pounding.

"Are you still ill? Madame Pomfrey will be able to cure you in seconds, I bet," Neville said, his voice too loud.

"Don't want to. G'away," he mumbled into his pillow, and Neville sighed but complied.

"If you're not better by tomorrow I'll drag you there myself," he heard Longbottom say, and Harry laughed at the irony; tomorrow he'd either be better or dead.

He couldn't find the energy to go to lessons, but he forced himself out of bed. The only books he had found had drawn up blanks, and he didn't know what he could do now, other than accept his fate.

He shakily reached a hand down to grab the book on the Veil; perhaps it would say something about what happened to souls after death; it would be lovely to see Sirius again, and maybe he could find a way to send a message to Tom, telling him how sorry he was. He supressed a sob at not being able to say goodbye to Tom, but he couldn't find a way to get to him in time; he may not even be back from whatever he had been doing with Voldemort.

He decided to go to the Room of Hidden Things, taking the book with him so he could be alone. He threw the diadem in his bag as well, just in case he needed it. Maybe he could beg Riddle to cure him in exchange for anything the man wanted. He shuddered at the thought, but he was prepared to do that if he couldn't stand the fear in the last few minutes he had alive.

Harry flipped through the pages, realising with interest that the Veil was creating using Ancient Magic, and was dated back to the Greeks who believed it to be a new pathway to the Underworld. However many people were able to walk in and would come back out again as they were not accepted by the Veil, and these were people who had marks on their soul.

Harry's mind twitched at that; wasn't that what the books had said about him? That his soul was tainted with some kind of Ancient Magic? Maybe he could enter the Veil and that would hold off death for some time.

He forwarded through the pages, until he reached a passage about items entering the Veil. Some items in Ancient times were used to harbour souls, for all different purposes, but the items used would gain their own power and could be used by the dead in the afterlife. The items would be taken into the Veil by somebody with an 'impure' soul and exchanged for rescuing their loved one who had been trapped.

That was it. The answer to everything had been in the book he hadn't bothered to read, thinking it was of no importance.

But before he could do anything a sharp, searing pain swept across his forehead and he gasped, clutching his head as the pain spread and he couldn't feel the world shaking as he collapsed to the floor.

He awoke some time later with Draco above him, the blond looking unnaturally concerned.

"Do I need to alert Lord Riddle? Do you need the Hospital Wing?" Draco asked, but Harry shook his head.

"In my bag," he croaked, voice hoarse, "is a diadem. Can you get it for me please?"

Draco nodded and did as Harry asked, handing him the diadem.

"Ravenclaw's diadem? Did Riddle ask you to collect the Founder's items or something?"

Harry shook his head. "I need to do something now with the diadem, but it will knock me unconscious. Please, just let me do it, but don't leave me alone."

"Fine," Draco said, sounding annoyed, but he looked both curious and anxious as he watched Harry.

Harry ran his shaky fingers over the sapphire, and once again he felt the coldness and darkness take him over.

Riddle was watching him when he awoke, and he looked rather pleased.

"I was hoping you would return; I hope with good news," Riddle greeted, and Harry nodded.

"I found out a way to do it," Harry said, fighting off the urge to jump around and burn the sudden energy he had. Every ailment seemed to be gone, only a cut against his hand remained the proof of why he was here.

"I shan't heal you until I approve," Riddle warned, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Do you know the Veil in the Department of Mysteries?" Harry asked, and Riddle nodded, interest now clear in his expression. "Well apparently items that hold souls are valuable to the souls of the deceased, and they'll exchange the soul inside for the item."

"How will you pass through without dying yourself?" Riddle questioned.

"I have a err, infection of my soul, from Ancient magic, I don't know what exactly, but apparently that's what it is, and the Veil doesn't like impure souls."

"Ah, so that's what I could sense on your soul; I did think so, but I couldn't be sure," Riddle mused, looking at Harry hungrily.

"What?" Harry asked, and Riddle smiled darkly.

"You shall find out in time," he answered simply, indicating for Harry to give his hand.

Harry held it out, and Riddle pressed something green into the cut. Instantly it began to feel hot, making his palm feel like it was on fire under his skin.

He watched transfixed as the cut healed itself, and Riddle's smile grew wider.

"Thank you," Harry said softly, and Riddle placed a cold hand against Harry's cheek.

"You wouldn't have died, you know? I would have kept you here and made you mine," Riddle said, and Harry didn't doubt him for a second. "You don't want me that way, do you? But there are no laws in this world; nothing to stop me, then again there's nothing to stop me in the real world either; I know no laws after all, but I can make the world mine out there; why control a single boy when I can control so many more."

"All you Tom Riddle's are focused on world domination, aren't you?" Harry said scathingly, and Riddle laughed coldly.

"How many versions of me are there in your world?"

"Just the two at the moment; there's the one from the diary, and then the, err, real one I guess," Harry told the older man, who nodded.

Riddle said nothing, but picked something sharp from the ground; an arrow head from the looks of things. Harry instinctively took a step back, much to Riddle's amusement.

Harry watched in horror as Riddle took the arrow and ran it across his own mouth, causing a burst of red blood to spill over his lips and chin, staining the pale white. It made him look like a monster.

Riddle stepped forward, pushing Harry into the nearest trip and gripping his wrists above his head. The older man pressed his bloody lips against Harry's, tightening his grip as he used his tongue to force Harry's mouth open. The younger boy struggled against the grip, but Riddle was too strong.

The teenager whimpered in pain as Riddle bit down hard on his tongue, and Harry felt his own blood fill his mouth, mingling with Riddle's.

Riddle finally released him after what felt like hours.

"You'll see," Riddle said vaguely, pressing his hand to Harry's forehead, causing a blinding white light across his eyes.

When Harry could see again he was back in Hogwarts, Draco still looming above him; the boy looked ghostly white.

"You looked dead," he said in a faint whisper.

"I almost was," Harry admitted. "I'm better now though."

"Well good, Lord Riddle would have skinned me if you died on my watch," Draco responded, but he couldn't meet Harry's eyes as he spoke. "Are you sure you're-?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Harry said with a smile as he eyed his healed hand. "Do you know any way I can get to the Ministry of Magic? I need to go to the Department of Mysteries but nobody can know; the sooner the better." He decided he may as well get started on freeing Tom straight away; the man hadn't said he had cursed Harry in anyway, but he was certain the Dark wizard would have put some precaution on Harry to make sure he would do as he said he would. Figuring it out was probably part of the man's torture regime.

"Yes, Pansy's father works in the Ministry; he's on our side of course, but the Ministry don't suspect him at all. Pansy owes me so I'll get her to contact him for us," Draco told him.

"Wait, us?" Harry asked, repeating what the blond had said.

"Well, yes," Draco answered somewhat awkwardly. "You wouldn't know your way round enough, and if you ran into anybody you won't be able to talk your way out of it because you appear to be useless when it comes to talking to strangers, especially if there's more than one. You need a guide, and you seem to be hiding things from Riddle at the moment, so I'm your best chance."

"You're very cocky, you know?" Harry said with a sigh. "But you're right. If Longbottom worked his way in I'm sure we can do it much more efficiently."

"Exactly," Draco answered with a nod. "I shall go and ask Pansy now. We'll do Ancient Runes work tomorrow in the library after our final lesson of the day; I'll pass the details onto you then."

Draco left him, bidding him goodnight, and Harry stood to prepare to leave too, but then he nearly yelled in terror as a voice echoed inside his head.

"Wonderful start, Harry Potter," the voice; Riddle's, said from within him. "The sooner you fulfil your duty, the sooner your mind shall be yours again."

X

Chapter 13: Thirteen

Notes:

Warning for the beginning of this chapter – (technically) solo sexual acts, with a dub-con feel to it.

Chapter Text

X

Harry very recently decided that having a Dark Lord in your head was highly irritating; perhaps the most irritating thing possible, in fact.

He cast his mind back to what Riddle had told him.

"I have inserted enough of my soul inside of you that I can access your mind without causing any other effects. Once you've given me my body, I'll call the soul segment back to me. Until then I shall be making myself comfortable inside your mind. Curious; this wasn't what either of us thought when I expressed desire to be inside of you."

Harry had cringed at that.

It turned out that he could only hear Riddle when the man wanted to be heard, yet he could hear Harry's thoughts any time he liked. Despite his best Occlumency shields, for a skilled Legilimens like Riddle to be at such close proximity to his thoughts, the shields were basically pointless.

The whole situation was infuriating, and it hadn't even been twenty-four hours yet. Riddle criticised him at every thought he disagreed with, and tended to angrily curse any Muggle-born who came into contact with him, even if it was something as simple as walking past him.

Harry hadn't managed to sleep much in the night; Riddle's combined tactics of complaining about the hours people unnecessarily slept for, and being in close proximity to blood-traitors and those with Muggle blood mixed in their veins kept him awake a while. When Riddle mentioned how easy it would be to manipulate Harry's mind in his sleep, the Gryffindor forced himself to stay awake until exhaustion overtook him.

The following morning, Harry awoke groggily; his eyes were open yet his mind hadn't really caught up to anything at all yet. All he was really aware of was a stirring in his lower regions.

His fingers ghosted over his rapidly hardening cock, stroking himself to full hardness.

He closed his fingers and started to fist his cock, moving harder each time, slicking his cock with pre-cum. He slowed his pace, reaching his other hand downwards and lifting his hips up to meet his exploring fingers.

As he continued to jerk his erection slowly with one hand, the other trailed down further, shifting his hips more to allow him access. He moved a finger gently around his hole before pushing it roughly inside, his sleep addled mind taking no notice of the slight burn. He thrust the finger in and out, building his pace before pushing another inside. He thrust the pair deep inside of him, jerking his cock faster and faster, matching the pace of the fingers.

Harder; he had to go harder, something was telling him. The pleasure was too intense now, and he could feel the pressure building as he neared his release.

He urged his fingers inside deeper and quicker as he imagined them replaced by a thick cock, belonging to a lightly muscled body with thick dark hair. He pictures one of his hands threaded through that hair, and another wrapping around the firm body.

He came with a cry, caused by both pleasure and horror, for as his mind was overcome by lust, he heard a voice say 'faster', and then he found himself staring into the face of the pleased Tom Riddle who was haunting his mind.

To say he was horrified would be an understatement.

"What the Hell?" he hissed into his mind. Riddle simply tutted.

"Muggle curses are vile; you should learn to watch your tongue or you'll cross the wrong people," the voice answered, ignoring Harry's main concern, clearly on purpose.

"I don't care," Harry growled. "How; why did you make me do that? I know Voldemort is evil and doesn't feel remorse or anything, but I never thought he'd resort to forcing himself on a minor."

"I didn't force you to do anything; you did it all yourself. It felt good, didn't it?"

"Up until I found out you were controlling me; it was basically what your hand wanted to be doing," Harry retorted angrily, but Riddle laughed coldly, infuriating Harry further.

"Are you going to report me, Harry?" Riddle said mockingly. "Will you tell the Ministry a part of Voldemort's soul is inside your mind and made you touch yourself?"

Unfortunately the man had a point, twisted as it was. Harry sincerely hoped Draco would arrange for them to go to the Ministry before nightfall. He could not stand another like the previous, especially if the wakeup call was the same.

He blanched at the thought.

"I suppose I wouldn't mind waiting a few more days for you to free me," Riddle continued. "I have many ideas for what we can try. You can't avoid sleep forever."

It was almost as if Riddle knew what he was going to think before he did.

He vowed to try and ignore the Dark wizard for the rest of the day, though it proved very difficult considering the man was apparently rather listless, and his favoured entertainment proved to be talking to, or rather irritating, Harry.

Riddle did have his bonuses however, as he was rather helpful in lessons; his Transfiguration work was the best in the class, though even impressing the stern McGonagall wasn't enough to forgive Riddle for earlier. Harry was particularly pleased when the man disagreed with the notes the Half-Blood Prince textbook had stated in Potions, and Harry and the mysterious author turned out to be right. This displeased Riddle, and sent him into silence for a blissful half hour afterwards, until he returned with his own theories about the potion.

"Well I'm not testing the theories for you," Harry had told the voice bitterly.

He had returned to his dorm room to collect an Ancient Runes textbook, just to keep up appearances with Draco in the library. He shoved his Invisibility Cloak and the diadem into his bag too, just in case he needed them. He sensed Riddle stirring as he grabbed the Cloak, but the man said nothing, something Harry found somewhat suspicious.

As he opened the door to leave his dorm, he found himself face to face with Seamus Finnigan.

"Ah, Harry, just the guy I wanted," Seamus said with a goofy grin.

"Err, okay; what do you need?" Harry asked, hoping Seamus wouldn't take too much of his time.

To his surprise, the sandy-haired boy blushed slightly and averted his eyes.

"Well, I was just wondering if you'd mind if I asked your sister out," Seamus told him, gaining back the confidence the boy usually had in excess.

"No, I don't mind. Why did you need to ask me first?" Harry asked curiously.

"You've seen how Ron's been with Dean ever since he started to date Ginny; there's too much tension in our dorm and I didn't want anymore."

"Ah, well, no, I don't mind. If anything, it will make Heather more bearable," Harry said. Heather had been desperate to date an 'older boy' for ages. If Lily heard then she'd be in trouble, of course, but Harry was in no rush to tell on her.

"Great, I'll go and ask her now," the Irish boy said, grinning widely.

"Remember she's fourteen so keep it clean," Harry shouted after the boy, pleased he had somewhat carried out his duty as an older brother.

Harry eventually made it to the library, where Draco was sat with Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini.

"They're in on it too," Draco explained upon seeing Harry's questioning expression, "though they shan't be coming with us."

"I may owe you, Draco, but you shouldn't have expected me to ask no questions," Pansy said, laughing lightly.

"This is the company you should be keeping," Riddle said approvingly. "Much better than those hormonal fools in Gryffindor towers; why I thought they were bad back in my day."

"Yes, they're the ones who are overly hormonal," Harry retorted sarcastically, unwillingly casting his mind back to the morning.

"Where's the Weasley girl today, Potter?" Blaise asked, looking at Harry sharply. He reminded Harry a bit of Tom, able to intimidate with a simple look.

"I dunno," Harry said with a shrug, ignoring Riddle reprimanding him for talking uncouthly. The Dark Wizard wasn't particularly threatening as a voice in his head; he wouldn't dare ignore Riddle in person. "Probably arguing with Dean; seems every time I see her she's upset over him."

"Well what does she expect dating a Mudblood?" Pansy tutted, while Blaise and Draco nodded in agreement. "That's why Daphne and I never argue."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise; he hadn't known Pansy liked girls; though Pansy was known as the most ruthless gossiper in school, and she had a vindictive mean streak; anybody who tried to say anything against her would immediately feel her wrath.

"Well, you and Daphne don't do much talking, do you?" Draco added, lip curling.

Pansy smirked. "At least I'm getting some, dear," she retorted coolly.

"Sit down, Potter, you'll draw attention to us," Blaise hissed quietly, and Harry obeyed, drawing a chair.

"We'll go tomorrow," Draco announced, getting back to the subject at hand. He lowered his voice so they all had to lean in to hear. "Pansy's father will allow us to Floo into his office, though he said things have become different at the Ministry recently. He wouldn't say much on the topic in case of letter interception, but The Dark Lord has taken some control over the Ministry, and has done so under the radar of the outside Wizarding World."

"Can't we go tonight?" Harry asked quickly, imaging the glee Riddle must be feeling.

"No, we're going tomorrow," Draco repeated. "Unless you'd rather ask Lord Riddle, then be my guest." He sat back smirking, knowing full-well Harry had no other choice.

"A group of us is going to play Suits tonight; you should join us," Pansy offered.

Suits was a card game, quite similar to the Muggle game Go Fish, where the player had to collect the numbers in each suit by trading with others. Of course the suits were different in Wizarding card sets, with dragons, pixies, unicorns and goblins instead of the Muggle alternatives.

"Yes, we beat you at Quidditch already, we may as well add card games to the list," Draco said with a smirk, making Blaise roll his eyes.

"Err, who else will be there?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"The three of us, Daphne and Theo," Draco told him, "Bring Lovegood with you."

"Bring the Weasley girl too," Pansy added, sending an amused glance in Blaise's direction. "The more of you we beat, the better."

"What about me?" a female voice sounded behind them, and they turned to see Ginny looking plenty amused, though her eyes did linger questionably on the unconventional group.

"Do you want to play Suits with some Slytherin's later?" Harry asked the red-head who nodded enthusiastically.

"So long as there's something in it for us if we win," Ginny answered, taking a seat beside Harry.

"I didn't take you for a gambler, Weasley," Blaise smirked.

"Surely you don't even have enough money to gamble with," Draco added coldly, but Ginny didn't take the bait.

"How about, if one of us non-Slytherin's wins, you have to give one of you to be a slave for one of us for a day, and vice versa," the youngest Weasley suggested, and the Slytherins looked rather impressed. Even Riddle had nothing critical to say.

"Deal, Weasley, I'll draw the contract up later. As it's your suggestion you'll be down to be the slave when you lose," Pansy said, blowing on a fingernail.

"Fine, but you can be the slave for Slytherin then, seeing as you're so sure we'll lose," Ginny replied, and Pansy nodded with a sneer.

The dark-haired girl did open her mouth to reply, but a shrill voice cut her off.

"Harry, Harry, guess what?" Heather Potter said excitedly, running over to him at their table. Madame Pince immediately popped her head round the corner at them and hushed at them threateningly.

"What?" Harry asked, though he had a vague idea where she was going with this.

"Seamus asked me out," she grinned, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "He asked me to join him for dinner tonight, and we're going to go to the next Hogsmede weekend together too."

"Oh wow," Ginny interrupted before Harry could reply. "Maybe me and Dean could go on a double-date with you." Harry could hear the sarcasm in her voice.

"As if," Heather said dismissively. "Oh, but can you believe it Harry? You can't say a word to Mum though because she'll freak out. I'll have to beg Severus not to say anything to her either. Oh, there's Lyra; I need to go tell her the news."

With that said the overjoyed girl ran skipped off to her friend.

"I don't care much for your sister," Riddle stated, and the expressions on the other's faces suggested similar thoughts from everyone.

After that they worked in a comfortable silence, until the time came for them to go their separate ways.

X

Luna had been more than happy to join them for some games, although she was truly bad at it, preferring to play with the cards than actually play Suits.

Harry ended up joining her building castles and bridges and the likes.

Despite not being very good at the game, all of the students had actually been getting on well; Harry had never spoken to Theo before, and he was quieter than Harry himself, but he was polite enough. Daphne was rather similar to Pansy, though perhaps friendlier, and she held Pansy's hand the entire night.

Riddle had been bored the whole time, and had been suspiciously quiet, so Harry hated to think what he might be planning.

The game had now dwindled down into a match between Ginny and Pansy, both furiously competing to ensure they wouldn't have to work for the other for a day. Ginny was exceptionally good at the game, and Pansy was clearly feeling slightly hustled, as she had fierce determination mixed with slight worry etched onto her features.

Draco sat down beside Luna, and to Harry it looked like he was fighting her urge to knock down her card pile. Luna seemed to notice to, because she smiled at the blond and moved her hand away so Draco would have free access, but Draco seemed to be able to contain himself.

"I suppose," Draco started, looking utterly defeated. "We could go tonight; we'd have much less risk of being caught."

"Great," Harry said, wanting to hug Draco in gratitude.

Pansy's screech caught their attention for a moment, as it turned out Ginny had won the game.

"Even better; now I can watch Pansy slave around after the Weaslette all day tomorrow," the blond Slytherin sneered.

"Be careful, Harry," Luna said gently. "If you're going where I think you're going, don't allow them to convince you of anything."

"Umm, okay," Harry said, not entirely sure what she meant.

"You stay careful too, Draco," she added, placing her hand gently over Draco's. The boy stared at their connected hands for a moment, before shaking it off and standing.

"Let's go then; I don't want to be kept up all night by you," he said, gesturing for Harry to stand with him.

Harry said goodbye to Luna and the others and followed Draco from the room.

"I was rather hoping for another night with you, Harry," Riddle said mockingly. "I had such plans."

"I'm sure a body will be a lot better," Harry answered, and he shuddered as a course of pleasure; not his, ran through his veins.

"So what exactly are your plans?" Draco asked once they arrived in a private Slytherin room; the Head Boy's office from the looks of things.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Harry answered honestly.

Draco just tapped his foot impatiently.

"I need to go to the Department of Mysteries, to see the Veil," Harry continued, and Draco's eyes widened.

"Why are you going there? It's dangerous! I'll take you to the area, but I'm not stepping foot near that thing," Draco exclaimed, forcibly grabbing the Floo powder and throwing it into the flames.

"Paulinus Parkinson's office, Ministry of Magic," Draco called, and Harry repeated the words afterwards, stumbling into a scowling Draco as he arrived.

"Watch it," Draco hissed, "you're getting ashes on my robes."

Harry rolled his eyes, and pulled his Invisibility Cloak from his bag.

"Shall we use this? It's extra cover," Harry asked, and Draco eyed the Cloak jealously before nodding.

"Father would never buy me one of these," the blond said bitterly.

They made their way silently through the vast Ministry of Magic. Draco seemed to know exactly which way to go, which was incredibly useful.

Despite being night, there were still some signs of life in the Ministry, though so far these had been heard and not seen.

It was once they neared the main Atrium that the signs of life really became clear.

A large number of masked Death Eaters were stood in a circle, with a group of Ministry workers inside. Voldemort was stood with his wand aimed at the group, and a white mist was overcoming the people while the Death Eaters laughed.

"What are they doing?" he asked Draco quietly.

"Mass Imperius," Draco answered, sounding horrified. "It's meant to be impossible to pull off correctly, but the Dark Lord seems to be having no trouble."

"Of course, the night staff are the lowlifes of the Ministry; they don't care about their safety nearly half as much as the day staff, yet putting them under his control can have a most damaging effect," Riddle mused aloud, and Harry nodded.

He cast his gaze across the room, and stifled a gasp as Tom's eyes locked with his. His expression suggested he knew Harry was there, and more worryingly, Harry couldn't tell what the expression was. Fortunately Voldemort seemed to be more focused on the workers.

"Let's go," he hissed to Draco, who nodded and hurriedly moved along.

Harry could feel Tom's unwavering gaze on his back as they left the Atrium.

"He knows of my presence in your mind; doubtlessly he'll follow you as soon as he has the chance," Riddle said warningly.

Their pace became faster as they neared their destination, and they eventually arrived at the shining black tiled entrance hall.

"There are no Protection Charms to the rooms you require here; if you truly need a room you shall be allowed access," Riddle explained, as the boys easily made their way to the Chamber of Death.

Draco stopped by the very edge of the room.

"I'm not going any further," he said firmly. "I wouldn't recommend you get to close; you falling in shan't reflect well on me."

"I'm not going to fall in," Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

He moved out from the cover of the Cloak, and clasped the diadem in his hands.

The whispering from the Veil seemed louder than ever, and he slowly walked towards the object, trying to stop the images flashing in his mind of Sirius falling.

He stopped right by the edge, reaching a hand out to simply ghost over the flowing mist.

"What are you doing?" he heard Draco hiss, "suicide is highly frowned upon."

"I'm not committing suicide, but I need to go inside. I'll be back soon," Harry said, and with a deep breath he stepped forward, leaving Draco's gasp and hurried footsteps behind.

As he passed through, a strange sense of coldness washed over him, and the world seemed to disintegrate away, leaving him in a dark void.

He looked down at himself; a murky white glow surrounded his body, a dark grey shade pulsing alongside it, and an even darker shade was just visible amongst the glow.

Whispers were suddenly all around, but he could see nobody. Riddle was saying nothing, and Harry was terrified he had failed and he was now trapped forever.

A figure started to appear before him, fading in to a body with a light grey blur around it.

"We have not had one of your kind for many years, and you are the worst of all, with two disfigurements on your soul," the figure spoke; it's voice gravelly and deep. "You are not welcome here; leave."

"I have something," Harry said quickly, holding up the diadem. "It's a Horcrux; the book said you-"

The figure snatched the diadem away from him before he could finish his sentence. He turned the jewellery over, fingers exploring each part of it.

"The soul inside here is very dark; why are you so willing to trade with us for it?" the voice asked, and the whispering stopped.

"The soul forced itself upon the child's own soul," a female voice spoke this time, a figure appearing with a pure white glow. Even with the hard to distinguish features, she appeared to be incredibly beautiful, even after death. "With it's body returned, it shall leave the child be."

"It must have realised," the male voice argued. "It already houses part of another's soul."

"I don't have anyone else's soul in me," Harry said quietly, and both the glowing forms stared directly at him, unblinking.

"The grey you see is not your soul, my child," the woman said softly. "It belongs to another; a young one who has committed murder."

Harry stared down at the glow around him, watching as the grey pulsed around the lighter colour, trying to take it over. What could that even mean?

"We accept your trade," the male voice said at last. "We shall return you and the soul to the realm of the living."

"Wait," Harry cried, holding a hand up. "My Godfather fell through here a few months ago; is he here?"

The man looked at the woman who nodded, and as they disappeared, another, much more familiar figure appeared.

Harry ran forward to hug Sirius' form, but his arms fell through the figure, making Harry fall to the floor with a thump.

Sirius crouched down, placing a ghostly hand near his cheek. The icy chill radiating off the hand gave Harry comfort.

"I'm sorry, Harry, my little Prongslet, forgive me for leaving you," Sirius said softly.

"Can't you come back with me?" Harry asked desperately. "Please, Sirius, I miss you so much."

He felt tears freeze on his cheeks, and the ache of losing Sirius was once again so fresh.

"I'm sorry, young one," he heard the female say from the shadows. "His soul is entrapped here forever; we shall take care of him for you."

"Your time is running out," the man interrupted. "Your presence will taint us. Say your final goodbyes."

"You'll tell them all I love them right?" Sirius asked urgently. "Tell them I'm sorry I left them, and tell Remus he'll always be mine, and I want him to move on and be happy." Harry nodded, trying to control his shaking form. "And you stay strong for me, Harry. I've accepted my death; I've found peace here. Stay strong for me."

The dark void began to shake and shatter, and the whispers started to fade away.

"I will, Sirius, I will; I'll always love you."

He felt ghostly lips against his forehead, and then a force was pulling him backwards, taking him away and into the light.

He landed roughly on the ground, a heavier figure landing on top of him, who was looking all too pleased with his position. Riddle placed a hand out over Harry's forehead, and Harry yelled as he felt a surge of pain, like he was literally having Riddle's soul ripped out of him.

"What in Salazar's-?" Draco shouted, and with surprising force the blond had marched to the pair and shoved Riddle off of Harry.

"You'll do well to watch yourself, boy," the man snarled; yes, Riddle was definitely a lot more terrifying in person. As a voice he was harmless, as a memory he was somewhat creepy but still easy to look at, but now he had a body and likely his magic back, he was the worst parts of Tom and Voldemort combined.

"Who are you?" Draco growled, pulling Harry from the ground, while the Gryffindor wiped away the tears that were still falling.

"My name is Tom Riddle, but I suppose that is taken now. Marvolo Slytherin is how you shall refer to me; Slytherin's heir who will carry out his true destiny," Riddle, or rather Marvolo stated. "Of course, you must be a Malfoy; you look much like Abraxas. Pity you will have to die."

"What?" Harry and Draco both yelled, not caring who they attracted now.

"I shall take that," Marvolo said, ignoring their protests, and he lunged forward, snatching Draco's wand from his grasp.

Harry immediately drew his and cast a Stunning Spell, the first cast that came to mind, but Marvolo quickly formed a denfensive shield around him.

With a flick of the wand he summoned the Invisibility Cloak to him.

"I don't suppose you knew you owned one of the Deathly Hallows, did you, Harry?" the Dark wizard said mockingly, fingering the soft material of the Cloak.

"That's just a story," Harry said, wondering why Tom could seem so sane when he was clearly crazy in his later years.

"Oh, no, it is most true. Dumbledore owns at least one more; if I can't find the third I'm sure he'll have that too. But for now, I shall need my own Horcrux, and as the young Malfoy here is an unnecessary witness, I can solve two problems with one simple spell. It shan't hurt at all, and you'll be able to have peace," Marvolo said, as if he was somehow going to convince Draco to willingly be killed.

Harry moved to stand directly in front of the Slytherin boy, ignoring his shaking limbs.

"Come now, Harry, I can incapacitate you in a moment; why bother risking your own health?" Marvolo taunted, but Harry stood his ground.

"You're not killing Draco," he said, trying to sound demanding. "I can't stop you killing, but you're not going to hurt him."

He could feel the terror radiating off Draco in waves, and the teenager had scooted closer to Harry; without a wand he was defenceless.

Marvolo's wand movement was quick, and Harry would have been unable to react with his own wand, but he threw up a hand in front of him, forming a shield around him and Draco, the eye of Horus blazing in the middle of it.

"That must have been an unexpected consequence of Tom's actions," Marvolo mused. "No wonder he wants to keep you. Pity you can't stay in that shield forever, and surely you see, Harry, that now Draco is better off dead to protect your secret."

"If his life depended on it he wouldn't tell," Harry argued, and Draco nodded urgently behind him.

"I-I'll keep quiet, I swear. Besides, I'm the only child in my family; you'd be risking a Pure-blood line dying out because-"Draco started, but he yelped and shut up when Tom sent a charm at the wall behind them in rage.

"I believe Pure-bloods should have full access and secrecy in the Magical World, and I believe Mudbloods are filth and vermin, but that doesn't mean I have no problem with Pure-bloods dying either, especially not weak, snivelling children. I suppose Voldemort never admitted he was Half-blood to anyone, did he?" Marvolo ranted, looking pleased when both Harry and Draco paused their movements in shock. "Oh, but we pulled ourselves out of the mess our mother created by mating with a filthy Muggle, and we pushed ourselves to the magical limit to create the world we crave, surrounding by pathetic fools who believe by siding with us, their chances of survival increases."

Harry pushed his hand against Draco slightly, pointing a finger towards the door, hoping Draco would realise it was a sign to run. He felt Draco nod very slightly behind him, and Harry dropped his shield, immediately focusing on the was sceptre and hieroglyphic name of Set, trying to focus on the storm part of the God's power. The room began to darken and storm clouds formed, swirling around them. The teenagers didn't need to be told twice to run; a green beam narrowly missed Draco's head.

Harry shouted Confringo at the door as it shut it behind them, hoping the rubble from the Blasting Curse would slow down the wizard somewhat.

He wasn't sure if he had grabbed Draco's hand or Draco had grabbed his, but they held on to each other with equal strength as they raced away from the Department of Mysteries.

"I'm so sorry; I didn't want to drag you into this, and I never thought he'd try to kill you," Harry cried, panting as they ran.

"I'll forgive you if you get me out of here alive," Draco replied, turning them suddenly down a corridor and into a room. "My father's old office; nobody else has been granted entry so technically he still owns this, and my blood will keep us safe; Father set up the Blood Wards without the Ministry being aware, of course."

"I really am sorry, Draco," Harry apologised again, biting his lip. "I made a really stupid mistake which caused this whole disaster."

"Well, tell me everything thing, and don't leave anything out," Draco demanded, started to revert back to his usual self.

"Can we do a Blood Oath?" Harry asked, and Draco rolled his eyes, but nodded. He reached over and pulled his father's drawer opening, and revealed a menacing looking knife.

Draco brought the blade across his palm, and allowed Harry to do the same. When they were both finished they clasped hands once more.

"I swear to keep everything you say in confidence, unless the person already has the knowledge of the information you are about to tell me and permits me to talk about it to them."

A red light wrapped around their hands, and then faded, causing the cut on their hands to heal, living just a thin scar as proof.

Now satisfied, Harry began to tell Draco everything, from finding Tom in the diary, of his Ancient Magic, discovering the Horcruxes, and accidently going inside the diadem. He told him of the curse, and Marvolo inside of his head and what he made Harry do, and what happened inside the Veil. The only thing he left out was his and Tom's relationship.

Draco stayed silent throughout Harry talking, and when Harry finished he opened his mouth to speak, before shutting it again. He repeated this action a number of times.

"You don't look very aristocratic doing that," Harry said, trying to lighten the mood.

"I think I preferred when you didn't talk you; you can be terribly sarcastic, you know, but Merlin, you're in a terrible situation; I thought I had it bad."

"Yeah, I don't even know how Lord Riddle will react to this; maybe he'll kill me," Harry said worriedly, but Draco shook his head.

"You don't seem afraid of him in the slightest, so clearly he doesn't treat you like he treats everyone else; that is a sign he at least respects you," Draco reasoned, but Harry shrugged.

"But what I've done is rea

Date: 2015-12-18; view: 626