Chapter Text
Halloween was fast approaching, and Harry could feel his sanity starting to fray. His dreams about that corridor hadn’t stopped, his detentions with Umbridge were testing him in a way he could have done without, and his friends were tiptoeing around him as if he were going to break while simultaneously begging him to lead their defense club. Some people still despised him, courtesy of the newspaper articles published about him over the summer.
His dreams had started shifting, lately. Voldemort was still prominent, but he was younger. Maybe in his 30’s or 40’s, with his eyes only just starting to become more dark crimson than the blood red they were in his form from the ritual after the Goblet. When he would dream of the Dursley’s, of memories when he’d been beaten by Dudley and his gang or when his Uncle was particularly upset about something freakish he’d done, Tom Riddle, for Harry couldn’t really think of him as Voldemort in this form, would flash through his mind, anger spiking through his head enough it would wake him up with a massive headache for the remainder of the day.
“Harry, you need to eat something.” Hermione said gently, as they sat at the Gryffindor table.
“I am, Hermione.” Harry sighed. He was eating, it just wasn’t as much as he knew he should be eating. But the thought of eating more just made his stomach roll.
“Maybe you could get something from the hospital for your stomach, mate.” Ron suggested, not eating with as much fervor as he usually did, his concern for Harry plain on his face.
“Fine. I’ll go see her. Just, please, stop pestering me about eating more.” Harry complained, feeling his head start to ache some more. “I’ll see you guys later.”
He collected his bag and headed upstairs, aiming for the hospital wing, but stopped by the bathroom, first. He splashed some water on his face as he stood hunched over the sink.
“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, jumping and reaching for his wand when he looked up and found Tom Riddle looking back at him curiously from over his shoulder. When he turned around, though, there was no one else in the bathroom with him. Slowly he faced the mirror again, to find an unimpressed eyebrow raised at him.
“You didn’t really think I was physically present, did you?”
“How- why- what?” Harry stuttered. “Why are you here? And why am I seeing you?”
“I’ll tell you eventually.” Tom conceded, sniffing haughtily. “But I wanted to have a proper chat outside of your head, as it were.”
“What do you want? Can I not get even a year break without someone trying to kill me?” Harry demanded, leaning toward the mirror.
“I’m not currently here to kill you, Potter.” Tom said with a heavy sigh. “Rather to appraise your current state. You don’t look well.”
“Gee, thanks, I had no idea I looked like death warmed up.” Harry retorted. Harry grimaced when he saw Tom grab a fistful of his hair and hissed when he felt his hair actually being pulled, as if he were real.
“Tut-tut, Mr. Potter, I don’t tolerate cheek.” Tom snarled, clenching a little tighter. “Samhain is approaching, though you are oblivious to the implications of such a ritualistic holiday. And when it comes, I will tear Albus Dumbledore down from the pedestal you and your peers have put him on. And you, Mr. Potter, Harry , will be my means to do it. You will not tell your meddling friends about me, and you will not go to Dumbledore, either. Not that he’ll see you. He’s been keeping his distance and keeping you in the dark for a long while.”
“He hasn’t tried to kill me, unlike yourself.” Harry groaned when he was shoved against the sink and the edge banged into his hip, sure to leave a bruise.
“No, he’s left you to your loving relatives to do that.” Tom snarled. “Go get your potion, if you think it will help. And remember what I said. Tell. No. One. Or you’ll sorely regret it.”
Harry sagged against the sink when he felt the hand disappear from his hair and he could back away from the sink even a little. He chanced a look in the mirror but didn’t see anyone else; just his own gaunt and drawn complexion. He really did look awful, but somehow getting a potion to help with his appetite wasn’t a priority for him anymore. He grabbed his bag and headed for his dorm, taking a hot shower before collapsing in bed, not even bothering with his homework. He was too tired and strung out to focus on it anyway.
The next few days were a blur, as he went from class to class, drawing more and more concerned glances from everyone. But he barely noticed them, worried about what Tom meant by his threat. He would catch glimpses of him now and then in the reflection of a window or a mirror, even once in his goblet at dinner. His dreams were getting worse, and he knew he was failing his assignments that he was turning in, but his head hurt so much he wasn’t able to think of an appropriate response when his teachers kept him after class to see if he had any specific questions so they could help him understand things better.
Ron and Hermione had stopped pestering him, but they hadn’t stopped watching him worriedly. He didn’t know who was responsible for the snacks that appeared in his bag throughout the day, but he was grateful they were light and he could eat them without any issues. Mostly crackers and veggie sticks.
“Harry, you need to talk to someone.” Hermione whispered while they were in the corridor. “I don’t care if it’s me or Ron or one of the teachers, but something is going on with you and you need help.”
Tell. No. One. A voice growled from right behind him, and he knew that he couldn’t. He decided to just keep his mouth shut and hope they didn’t notice the slight shaking in his hands.
“If you don’t talk to someone, mate, we will.” Ron stated, his face hard and determined.
“Nothing’s wrong!” Harry finally shouted, stopping while they continued on a few steps. “I get that I’m a suboptimal choice of friend right now, and I get that for the first time in the five years we’ve been here at school together, I haven’t been pitted between the pair of you or abandoned by you, like the rest of the fucking student body. I’m not a child for you to coddle after a bad day or a charity project. Just-” Harry groaned and grabbed at his hair, “just leave me alone.” He stormed away from them back the way he’d come, ignoring their hurt expressions as much as he could until he could lock himself in the bathroom again.
“You’re getting careless.” Tom snarled, a hand grabbing his hair and dragging him to the mirror and holding his face against the glass. “Quit drawing attention to yourself.”
“I’m not doing it on purpose.” Harry gasped, the hand leaving his hair and settling against his neck as he was turned around. Harry’s eyes widened as he took in the fact that he could now see Tom without a reflective surface. He froze when his wand was pushed against his cheek.
“Shortly, Harry, I will be making myself known. But until then, until I can recall my other self here to heal his grotesque body and deranged mind, or until I can take you to him, I curse you with silence.”
Harry felt his wand pressed against his neck and magic flooded over his vocal chords, nearly choking him. He pulled at Tom’s hand that had him pinned and tried to fight, but he was weaker than normal because of his poor rest and eating habits. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out; not a croak or whimper or cry.
“Such a shame.” Tom tutted, taking the wand away, but leaving his hand clamped firmly around his neck. “Your voice is one of the few I actually don’t mind.”
Harry fell to the floor when Tom threw him down, rolling until he hit one of the cubicles. He started to try getting up, but a foot on his shoulders pressed him firmly against the stone floor. He struggled a little more until the sharp heel of Tom’s shoe pushed against his spine, making him cry out silently and cease his attempt to get up.
“Better. You are going to go to dinner, you are going to go to your dorm and shower and go to bed, and tomorrow you are going to go to class, you’re going to attempt to eat at meals, and then you will meet me back here before going to dinner, is that understood?”
Harry nodded as much as he could, flinching slightly when Tom moved his foot and knelt down by his face, stroking a finger along his cheek, his nail digging in a bit.
“That’s a good lad. I will use you to heal myself, Harry Potter, and then, if you wish, I will end your suffering at the expense of others. But only after I’ve had my revenge on them for daring to touch what is mine.” Harry took a shaky breath at the possessive tone, fighting that shudder that threatened to overwhelm him, and nodded with his eyes closed. When he opened them again, Tom was gone and he was alone on the bathroom floor, with his bag dropped near the door, the contents slightly spilling out.
It took him a few minutes to gather himself and stand up without falling over. He stumbled back to the sink and noticed the mirror was cracked and had a trace of blood on it where his cheek had been pressed against it. He looked at his face, but there weren’t any traces on his face of where it had come from. He opened his mouth to try and say something, but no sound came out; even when he groaned, it was silent.
Frustrated by the turn of events, he picked up his bag, shoving his things back inside before he realized Tom had had his wand when he disappeared. He felt his pockets and thankfully found it. He was so tired and so done with other people using him to meet their agendas or further themselves in someone else’s eyes. He sighed defeatedly as he walked the empty corridors, everyone was at dinner so he wasn’t worried about anyone stopping him. When he got to the wall where the Room of Requirement was, he asked for a place to hide for a little while.
The room was crowded with things from floor to ceiling that people had tried to hide at some point or another while at school. He set his bag down by the door and wandered in a little further to look at some of the different items. There were books and broomsticks, even weird furniture pieces like a strange cabinet. He set the door down when it fell off and he quickly walked away from it in case it did anything else.
“Don’t touch that!” Tom shouted as Harry reached out to a tiara that was sitting on a wig, making him jump and trip on his own feet. He scrambled back, until he bumped into a bookshelf. He opened his mouth to ask why, before he remembered he couldn’t speak. “Then again,” Tom said, tapping his lip with his thumbnail, “what would happen if I could merge it with your existing piece?” Harry frowned at what he was saying. Piece? Piece of what? “Is it possible?”
Harry pressed himself back against the bookshelf, hoping Tom would disappear again. Instead, the man picked up the tiara and twirled it in his hands as he strolled casually toward Harry. He knelt in front of Harry and looked at him, studying something that Harry couldn’t see or understand.
“This was once the diadem of Ravenclaw, you know? Each founder left behind an heirloom to their lines. I’ve found the locket of Salazaar Slytherin and … let’s just say it’s extremely protected. It’s a beautiful artifact, gold with a serpent on it.” Harry’s eyes widened as he remembered seeing it in Grimmauld Place over the summer while he waited for his trial. “There was the chalice of Helga Hufflepuff that I have stored in a vault in Gringotts, too. You’ve seen the sword of Gryffindor, used it even. I was never much of a fan of the house of lions, so I left that relic well enough alone. But this? This diadem? It was one of my last ones that I made before I became lost in my madness. I’ve never known pieces to be able to be merged from one item to another, but then, you aren’t a typical horcrux.”
Horcrux? Harry mouthed the unfamiliar word, not liking the way Tom said the word, as if it were something precious.
“You can be my experiment, child.” Tom said, reaching out and touching the scar on Harry’s head. Instead of the feeling of fire that had shot through him when the rebirthed version touched it, it was ice. Cold swept through his body as if he’d been covered in a disillusionment charm again, except a hundred times worse, since the feeling didn’t ease up. “Now hold still. I don’t know how this will feel.”
Harry’s eyes widened as Tom lifted the diadem and set it gently on top of his head pushing it down into his messy, wild, curls. As soon as it was seated, Harry felt it pull at him. He sucked in a breath as he fought against it and it pushed back into his head. The room around him blurred until he only saw a woman sitting in a chair in front of a fire.
“Hello, child.” She smiled at him softly and gestured to the chair next to her. Not really feeling as if he were moving, he found himself sitting down opposite her. “We don’t have long, I’m afraid. But I needed you to know that you are far more intelligent than you give yourself credit for. I know that you purposefully do not try in your studies, too used to staying toward the bottom of the class so as to not draw attention to yourself. You have managed to purge my relic of a dark and dangerous magic by drawing it into yourself.”
“Is this real?” Harry asked, surprised at the sound of his own quiet voice.
“Yes, and no. It is real for you. Tom is still watching you, but it has only been seconds for him. He’s going about the change he wants in an abysmal way, but Hogwarts stands with you, Harry. You’ll understand soon enough, and I’m afraid it won’t make anything easier for you. Just know, as much as you consider Hogwarts your home, she considers you her child.”
“There you are.” Tom whispered, as Harry blinked a few times and found himself back in the large room once more. “You managed to absorb it all on your own, Harry. You should rest now, though. I’ll watch over you until morning.”
Harry didn’t have the energy to fight as he fell unconscious into Tom’s arms. He didn’t dream, just floated peacefully in darkness. When he finally woke up, he felt more rested than he had in months. Most of a year, if he were being honest with himself. He frowned when he felt fingers carding through his hair by his ears. He turned and looked to find Tom watching him curiously.
“It’s time you headed for breakfast, little one.” He said, still watching Harry as he woke up. Harry nodded and sat up, realizing he was laying on a sofa. There was a larger pressure in his head than he remembered feeling when he had his usual headaches and he wobbled, off balance, when he stood up. “Not long now, Harry. When the feast begins tonight, I’ll be able to initiate the ceremony to rejoin and repair the version of me that was created this summer. You see, when the idiot prepared the potion, he apparently did not know about the basilisk venom or phoenix tears that were still present in your blood. They reacted poorly with the other ingredients and caused the abomination that emerged. No matter. Just remember what I said. No talking to anyone about anything. I’d hate to have to take matters into my own hands.”
Harry flinched at the threat but nodded his agreement before collecting his bag and heading for the Great Hall in a hurry. He ignored the strange looks sent his way as he walked, he’d been doing it since school started, so it didn’t bother him much.
“That suits you, Harry.” Luna said dreamily as she fell into step with him. He gave her a quizzical look as they approached the Gryffindor table. “Wisdom.” She said, as if that clarified anything.
“Er, Harry? Did you know you’re wearing a tiara?” Ginny asked, sitting beside Luna and looking at him strangely. He frowned and reached up to touch his head and found the diadem Tom had put on him still there. He sighed as he set his hands on the table and focused on loading his plate up. His hair was tangled up in it and there was no way he was going to try working it out right now.
“It’s part of his inheritance.” Luna said certainly, causing a quiet to fall around the room as more people turned to look at him. “He’s going to start now.”
“Start what?” Hermione asked, watching Harry warily, as if he was going to snap at her again.
“Being himself.” Luna shrugged, pouring herself some juice. “The wrackspurts were clouding him, making him think that he needed to fail to be accepted. Rowena Ravenclaw has shown him he should no longer hide.”
“How do you get all that from a crown?” Ron asked, looking confused.
“It’s the lost diadem of Ravenclaw.” Cho said, standing behind Luna and looking at Harry, but not meeting his eyes. “It was lost centuries ago, or so the legends say. Where ever did you find it?”
“Where else?” Luna replied, passing a cup of tea to Harry. “The Room of Hidden Things, of course.”
“Mr. Potter,” Professor Flitwick said, looking between his face and the diadem excitedly, “would you be willing to let the goblins confirm that that is in fact Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem?”
Unable to speak, Harry nodded hesitantly.
“Wonderful! I’ll make a call and hopefully have someone by at the end of the day!” He ran off happily.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Luna said, drawing Harry’s attention to the fact that Lavender was reaching a hand up toward the diadem. “It chose Harry and won’t be removed until it’s ready to be.”
“It’s tangled into his hair pretty good.” Ginny commented, pointing at it. “I don’t think he can get it out now, especially before classes start, anyway.”
Harry finished his breakfast, but wanted to write a note to Sirius. He wasn’t sure if he could do it without Tom knowing, but he needed to know. Groaning silently, he wrote out a quick note.
Padfoot,
Remember that locket from the cursed cupboard? Find a way to get it to Gringotts.
I can’t say more.
Just trust me, please.
H.
Harry folded it up and ran up to the owlery to send it off before class. He had snagged a few rolls and a piece of toast slathered in jelly as he sent Hedwig off. It was the most he had eaten at a meal in a long time, but he noticed he felt better afterwards. There was still an annoying pressure in his head that was making it difficult to read the boards in his classes, but he knew it had something to do with Tom, with whatever he did that Harry ‘absorbed’. Several of his teachers were surprised to see him wearing the tiara, but it was at least something that kept them and the other students from trying to talk to him.
He frowned as he walked to potions, realizing that no one had noticed after three classes and two meals together he hadn’t said a single word. None of his friends had questioned why he was so quiet. Malfoy only frowned at him when he didn’t respond to his usual taunts. He sat down heavily at an empty table, barely looking up when Neville sat beside him and gave him a small smile as he got his book out. As Snape gave his instructions, Harry and Neville each gathered their ingredients, but Neville’s hands were shaking as their professor started walking amongst the tables.
Harry nudged him and used his hands to indicate he should watch him. Neville nodded and Harry showed him how to cut and prepare the ingredients while Neville copied down the instructions from the board on a parchment, apparently having noticed that Harry was having trouble with seeing them since he kept rubbing his temple and his eyes. Neville slowly relaxed more as they brewed, and they communicated through hand gestures mostly, and a few taps on the parchment with a quill to get the other’s attention. Neville gave him a bright smile when his potion turned out the right color and consistency. They both bottled their potions and handed them in at the end of class but before Harry could leave, Snape caught his eyes and scowled at him.
“Stay behind, Mr. Potter.” He sneered, watching Harry sigh silently and head back to his table.
“Want me to wait for you?” Neville asked, but Harry shook his head and mouthed no. “If you’re sure?” Harry nodded again, giving him a small smile. “I’m sorry you’ve lost your voice today, but thank you for helping me. I actually felt like Potions was something I could do for once.”
Neville waved as he left, passing Malfoy who was purposefully going slow. Harry approached Snape and stood at the desk waiting to be berated for one thing or another.
“I don’t know what ridiculous stunt you think you’re trying to pull, Mr. Potter, but as no one else has said anything to you today, clearly, it falls to me to be the voice of reason.” Snape said angrily, glancing at the diadem. “Take that off of your head, now.”
Harry frowned and reached up, but it seemed like his hair had woven around it somehow, keeping it in place. When his fingers brushed the metal, he hissed as it sent a shock of cold into his fingers. He gestured with his hands, trying to show that he couldn’t, but knew it was futile by the hard look in the older man’s eyes.
“Speak, insolent brat.” Snape demanded, and Harry pointed at his throat and mouthed ‘I can’t!’. “Feigning a lost voice is low, even for you, Potter.” He pointed his wand at Harry’s throat, and Harry backed up a few steps until he backed into a desk, shaking his head no. He felt Snape’s magic before he was holding his throat when Tom’s reacted and started choking him. He waved his hands for the man to stop, but quickly gave up and just held his throat and tried to keep from passing out as his oxygen was cut off.
“Potter,” Snape said quietly, as soon as he stopped his spell and Harry was gasping for breath as he leaned on the table heavily, “how did you acquire such a dark curse?”
Harry kept his eyes on the floor as he tried to get his breath back.
“You dare,” Tom snarled, appearing at Harry’s side and holding him up by his robes while glaring at Snape who raised his wand suddenly, “you dare touch what is mine?”
“Who might you be?” Snape demanded, and Harry caught sight of a startled Malfoy out of the corner of his eye while Tom put an arm around Harry’s neck and held him close, twirling his wand in his hand.
“I’m hurt you don’t remember me, Severus.” Tom growled. “For someone who was such a loyal and devoted servant.”
“And how would you know who I do or do not serve?” Snape retorted, his eyes flitting over Harry revealing a glimpse of anxiety.
“It was I who marked you, Severus Snape. And it is an abomination of myself that you are serving elsewhere. Harry, here, is going to heal me, fully, mind and body. And all it will cost him is his life, eventually.” Tom replied, pulling Harry back with him as he moved toward the door. “But don’t worry, I’m going to make sure you, and everyone else who ever failed a child in this god-forsaken school, knows that you are all responsible for what happened to him. It’s dinner time now. While I had wanted to make my presence known later, once Harry had a chance to eat a proper meal, your meddling is forcing my hand. Go. Or he’ll lose more than just his voice before we get there.”
“Go, Draco.” Snape said, nodding to the Slytherin who was still by the door, watching them with wide eyes. Snape kept his wand pointed at Tom as he herded his other student out and kept himself between him and Tom, walking backwards towards the Great Hall. “Go sit with your house.” Snape directed and Malfoy hurried to the Slytherin table as they rounded the corner.
The room went quiet when they saw Snape holding his wand toward Tom and Harry, continuing to back up toward the head table where all of the teachers had stood and raised their own wands.
“Ah, ah, ah!” Tom scolded. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, not unless all of you want to see our dear Harry Potter die.”
“Severus, what is going on?” Dumbledore demanded.
“Like you don’t know, old man.” Tom sneered. “Go on. Tell them you don’t know who or what I am.”
“Tom Riddle?” McGonagall gasped, her hand clenched around her wand so hard her knuckles were turning white.
“Hello, Minnie. Lovely seeing you again.” Tom said politely. “Be a dear and have your overzealous students that Harry’s been teaching put their wands away?”
“And what has Mr. Potter been teaching other students?” Umbridge demanded, apparently not sensing the danger of the situation.
“Don’t you worry, Ms. Umbridge, I’ve got some words for you as well.” Tom snarled at her.
“It is Professor Umbridge, or High Inquisitor Umbridge.” She retorted angrily.
“Professor would imply you hold the appropriate certifications to teach. Tell me, Dolores, what you achieved on your defense NEWT? Or better yet, your OWL?” Tom replied, not giving her a chance to respond, though. “Don’t answer, you simpering wretch. All of you will sit down and listen to me right now.”
“Sit.” Snape said sternly, to the horrible woman, glaring at her until McGonagall used a tripping jinx on her and stuck her to her chair with a silencing spell around her.
“Let Potter go, Tom.” McGonagall said, watching as the man tightened his arm on Harry, holding him so he had to go up on his toes in order not to choke.
“Can’t do that I’m afraid.” Tom said somewhat apologetically, before pulling Harry up on the dais and shoving the table back with a wave of Harry’s wand. He shoved Harry to his knees and put a hand in his hair while placing the wand at his neck. “It’s time for a story, boys and girls.”
“Why does he still have on that bloody diadem?” Someone muttered. Harry hissed when Tom tugged on his hair harshly that was in the middle of the headpiece.
“I’m glad you asked.” Tom sneered, before casting a silencing charm over the entire Great Hall. “Sit down and be quiet. For each comment that somehow makes it through the weak silencing charm I placed, poor Harry will bear the consequences. For those of you who don’t know me, I was once a boy named Tom Marvolo Riddle.” Harry saw Ginny’s eyes widen as she dropped what she was holding, going very pale as she started to shake in her seat slightly. “I was a Prefect in my time before becoming Head Boy. But you see, much like Harry, I was an orphan. Oh, I got my letter and came to school, yes. But I was forced to return to the orphanage in London during World War 2 while it was being blitzed by German bombers. Over 30 other children I was at school with died during these air raids and failed to return when it was time to board the Hogwarts Express each year.
“Professor Dumbledore ensured that me, and others like me, went back to our ‘homes’ each summer, regardless of if it was safe for us or not. If you think that he has changed at all over the years, that he’s a sweet, grandfather of a man, you need look no further than this boy right here. Yes, I was part of the reason he became an orphan, but I was not the one responsible for his abuse. No, that falls on the shoulders of your Headmaster.” Harry closed his eyes, not wanting to have his past revealed. He tried to move, but Tom waved the wand and Harry’s hands were bound behind his back.
“How many of you paid any attention to how small he was when he came? Hm? How many of you were offended when he didn’t pay you the proper respects you were told he was raised to know?” Tom looked around the room at a few hesitantly raised hands, and more than a fair few confused frowns. “Ah, I see none of you cared to look beyond your own schooling to help another in need. I guess things have changed for the worse, then. What if I told you that Harry attempted to go to a teacher a few times about his home life, but gave up when it became obvious that no one cared?
“What if I told you his letter, the one every child in our world cherishes and is celebrated, was addressed to Mr. H. Potter, the cupboard under the stairs?” Harry closed his eyes and tried to look down, but Tom yanked his head back up by his hair. “This man, who put himself in charge of this student in particular, placed him with his muggle relatives, who could not even be bothered to ensure he had a bedroom for the first ten years of his life with them. I lived in an orphanage and I even had a bedroom. The wizarding world was told he was raised like a prince, waited on and learned in the ways of an heir. But this boy did not even know he was a wizard until the day he turned 11.”
Harry felt his jaw tremble and clenched his teeth to stop it. No one was meant to know. Especially about the cupboard. He could see people gasping and holding their hands over their mouths as they watched the spectacle in shock. He hissed when the wand was pressed more against his neck and he felt something icy run along his neck.
“Enough.” Tom snarled, and Harry took a few breaths when the cold stopped finally. “If any of you had thought to ask him, you could have found out and helped him instead of being just as bad as his relatives. Do you know what Harry did on a typical day over the summer? Hm? Here, let me show you.” He waved the wand and Harry struggled again, not wanting them to see, but it was too late. Tom played a memory of Harry being woken up and forced to cook before he was cleaning while his relatives ate, tending the garden in the hot sun while he stole a few handfuls of water to drink from the hose before he was caught, his meager lunch of a piece of bread and cheese before he was cleaning once more inside. Then he was chased by his cousin and his gang, getting beat up when they cornered him before he trudged home to clean himself up and make the family dinner. How they ate while he cleaned the dishes and was given an apple and sent to his room where the locks could be heard clicking into place on the door to the bedroom he’d been given.
“This was a daily occurrence.” Tom snarled, before glaring back at Dumbledore. “Daily. And how many times, old man, in the ten years he was there before he got his letter, did you check on him? How many times has he had to be rescued from that house, from his supposed family’s care, so that he could actually make it to school alive? If it were not for the Weasley family, this boy would have died the week he turned 12 from starvation.
“So. You asked earlier, why he was still wearing the diadem?” Tom turned back to the students. “Because this boy, this child, is the heir to Hogwarts. He is heir to Godric Gryffindor through his father’s family; Salazaar Slytherin by conquest for defeating myself and a 60 foot Basilisk; heir to Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff from squibs in his mother’s line. This child is all that remains of their legacy. The founders of Hogwarts. And every single one of you abused him in your own way.” Harry’s eyes narrowed at Tom, who huffed.
“Fine, aside from Ms. Lovegood, Mr. Longbottom, and potentially the chaos twins. Better?” he asked, looking at Harry who gave a quick nod. “The heir of Hogwarts, boys and girls, being raised to feel like every life was more important than his own. To be a sacrifice to end your so-called war. A war that was unnecessary to continue because the prophecy that Dumbledore was bent on protecting has already come to pass. Oh, yes, I know the prophecy. You see, if Harry knows it, I know it. I am connected to him. That is irrelevant for the moment. What I find curious, right now, is that I cursed Harry with silence for the past 24 hours. And do you know when anyone said anything about it? Just before dinner, at the end of his last class today.
“Unfortunately, that also drew the attention of your Potions Master who decided that he must be lying or some other nonsense, because he has never truly seen Harry Potter. He only saw James. The same goes for a majority of the staff here. Very, very few of you students ever saw who he truly was. What all of you are guilty of is taking out your anger of his failure to meet your standard as the Boy-Who-Lived based on what you read about him. Where do you think those stupid stories came from? Where do you think the money from those stories went? When did he agree to let his name be used as a headline? When did any of you ask why it was acceptable for news sources to print stories about an underage witch or wizard?
“The wards of the school are meant to protect the students from outside threats, did you know that? They are meant to keep out dark artifacts and creatures. Since Harry has started here, the school has hosted a professor possessed by a wraith of myself for an entire year, a troll was allowed in, Dementors came on the grounds, Unforgivable curses were demonstrated in a classroom on students, and that woman,” Tom snarled as he glared at Umbridge bearing his teeth, “has been allowed to punish students with a blood quill.”
Several of the other teachers snapped their heads to Umbridge in horror. McGonagall put a hand to her mouth and looked at Harry as she realized that she had turned him away when he tried to come to her for help. Tom’s hand was gently massaging the top of Harry’s head after pulling on his hair so much.
“It doesn’t matter. Not now, not anymore. Harry Potter is mine, and the only one allowed to do anything to him is me. He holds two parts of my soul and I will use him to make myself whole and sane again. Once I am, I will be taking care of those who have caused him grievous harm. Including you, Dumbledore. You are the reason he did not have a home or family. If, by the time I am done, Harry asks, I will end his suffering at your hands. Hogwarts! You have let your heir be harmed on your sacred grounds! You have let those who think themselves in charge cause this harm. You will now retaliate in his name until such time as he returns or he passes from this world.”
Harry watched as the ceiling shifted into a swirling mess of clouds with lightning flickering in it while the candles sputtered, nearly going out and the fire in the grates blazed higher. The banner for the school appeared above Harry and Tom’s heads, displaying each House symbol and creature. Something appeared on Harry’s hands, but he couldn’t look at what it was with them tied behind his back. It felt like rings, though. Four of them.
“Severus,” Tom snarled, looking at the man who was pale as a ghost, “do not show your face unless you are prepared for my displeasure once I am whole again.”
Harry stumbled as Tom pulled him to his feet and wrapped an arm around his neck once more, pressing the wand to his temple.
“Think of Riddle Manor, Little Hangleton, and I will guide your magic to a safe landing.” Tom whispered. Harry knew the place Tom was talking about from his dreams the previous year and pictured it in his head, pictured the words with it, and after a quick tugging sensation around his belly button, he felt them shift before landing on the well manicured lawn of the massive home.