Sweet Sixteen Again
Chapter one: Attack

The dew shimmered upon the grass of the yards on Number Four, Privet Drive, and its surrounding areas in the morning. The sun had risen properly now, and it created a bright light through all of the windows. Harry Potter was one of many people awake, and probably the only one outside. He was, by no means, a normal boy. It wasn't just the fact that he was a wizard, because he wasn't a normal wizard either.

He was the Boy Who Lived, a title given to him when he was just a baby. The title thoroughly annoyed him. Of course, when you never want fame, you hate when you're shoved under the spotlight. That was how Harry felt. Harry had been depressed last summer, but he wasn't as depressed as he was now. After losing his godfather, Sirius Black, in the Department of Mysteries about a month ago, the memory was still fresh and tender to him. The nightmares had decreased, but what bothered him the most was when he was awake and thinking about it.

The young wizard walked down Privet Drive, adjusting his glasses as he took his normal route to the park. He had grown some over the summer, making him as tall as Uncle Vernon, but still not as tall as Ron Weasley, one of his best friends, was. He strode in between Wisteria Walk and Magnolia Crescent, and went straight to the park, where he sat in his usual swing. He wrapped his arm around the chain and gently swung back and forth, closing his eyes and listening to the sounds of birds and windchimes.

His attempt at finally being at peace within this world seemed to be working quite well.

Until his scar burst into pain. He gasped and instinctively brought his hand up to it, wincing with every pain-filled throb. Somehow he managed to open his eyes and see one thing that he thought he'd never seen anywhere near Privet Drive--Lord Voldemort.

The black cloak, the red eyes with snake-like pupils, the white face, and his pale and sickly fingers; unmistakeably Lord Voldemort.

No way. This cannot be happening. Not now.

Harry fumbled for his wand, and as he grasped his hand around it, he stumbled out of the swing and stood up straight, swaying with the pain in his scar... he could not believe this was happening....this was tons worse than dementors....tons.

"Harry Potter," the voice said, sending chills down his spine. "I've wondered when I'd be able to catch you. Don't bother screaming, the foolish Muggles can't hear or see us....my, my. You can't even stand!"

He laughed cruelly, a high-pitch, truly evil laugh.

Harry felt very strangely enclosed and claustrophobic, his eyes full of horror. Yes, he had thought of that damned prophecy all summer...but he had no idea that either his "murderer or victim" would be arriving within a few hours to go ahead and get things over and done with.

"And now, Harry, I think it is time to finish you off. You've dodged around me for way too long, way too many times. But here, there is no one to save you."

He stopped in amusement to watch Harry, who was clutching his scar with his left hand and holding his wand in the other, but his eyes were wide open and he was fully aware of what was going on. What could he do now? No one was here...no one could hear him if he screamed.

Voldemort grinned maliciously and raised his wand, "Av--"

A loud CRACK, the sound of someone Apparating, filled the otherwise silent atmosphere, and Voldemort stopped his spell, his body still poised to cast a curse as he looked straight across from himself.

Albus Dumbledore had out his wand and his eyes were blazing like a blue fire. He looked over at Harry, then back at Voldemort.

"So, Tom," he said calmly. "We meet again."

Voldemort, instead of answering, directed the Killing Curse at Dumbledore, who sidestepped it as if Voldemort had thrown a pebble at him.

"Clever of you, Dumbledore," he snarled. "Do you keep some strange tracking device on the boy, letting you know who all he meets?"

Dumbledore stopped walking and acted as if he were mildly surprised.

"Actually, Tom," he said coolly, "the tracking device is not on Harry, it's on you."

Voldemort said nothing, but he directed another curse at Dumbledore, who sidestepped it.

Dumbledore then cast his own spell, and soon things were flying between the two of them. Harry was watching in awe. He had never seen such a battle in his life. The only time he had seen these two powerful wizards battle was in the Department of Mysteries a couple months ago.

But when Voldemort's spell went off course and came toward Harry, Harry raised his wand and yelled a bunch of words in his defense. He wasn't even sure what he was yelling....he just knew he had to do something.

A bright silver light hit Voldemort, then ricocheted and hit Dumbledore. A sudden mist filled the surroundings like a blanket. Horrified and unable to see, Harry stared blankly around, panicking.

"Professor!" he bellowed. "Professor!!!"

Stumbling around blindly, he rushed forward where he thought Dumbledore had fallen and got onto his knees, fumbling around to find his Headmaster's hand.

"Professor Dumbledore, I'm so sorry, I had no idea that--" Harry looked at the hand clutched in his own. Who in the bloody hell's hand was that? It was the hand of someone his own age, smooth and unwrinkled...no, this couldn't be Albus Dumbledore's hand.

As the mist cleared, and Harry squinted down at the body on the ground, he yelped and leapt backward, hitting his head on the swingset as he did so. The man in front of him....was not even a man.... he was sixteen years old, a mere teenager, with auburn hair and a clean-shaven face.

But this teenager had on Dumbledore's robes...and was wearing Dumbledore's glasses and shoes.

His eyes as wide as saucers, he looked several feet away at the supposed Voldemort on the ground. And there, was not Voldemort, but another sixteen year old, dressed in black robes. He had black hair, with brown eyes, and horribly resembled Harry slightly.

Tom.....Riddle? Tom Marvolo Riddle?

Harry was officially panicking now as the other two teenagers stood, gathering up their wands again and about to curse each other when they did double-takes.

"What the--?" Tom began coughing.

Dumbledore took this time to look at his own body, taking off his reading glasses. He looked over at Harry, who hadn't said a word. At first he did not notice the change, but when he reached up a hand to his face, he let out a shriek--very uncharacteristic of Albus Dumbledore.

"I'm sixteen? I was wondering where all that agility came from just a second ago!"

"Professor," breathed Harry. "I'm.....I'm sorry, I didn't know..."

Tom had stopped choking and put on a disgusting face that didn't work well on him at all.

"POTTER!" he bellowed, "WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

He began stomping the ground angrily, and throwing a little temper-tantrum that Harry found amusing.

"Well, obviously," he began, now beginning to think the situation was funny, "I've turned you into sixteen year olds."

Tom growled and ran toward him, tripping over his large shoes and falling to the ground. "You cannot do this to Lord Voldemort!" he shouted. "And I'm still Lord Voldemort, no matter how old I look!"

He was trying to sound intimidating, and it wasn't working at all. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at him. "Tom--"

"If you can call me Tom," interrupted Tom, "then I should be able to call you Albus."

"Fine," snapped Albus. "And since all three of us are the same age now, Harry should call me Albus too."

"That's just weird," concluded Harry. "I've never heard Albus Dumbledore snap at anyone, and I've never heard Lord Voldemort whine about little things--"

"SHUT UP!" shouted Tom. "NO ONE ASKED FOR YOUR INPUT!"

"Well, well.." said Harry, grinning. "Tom's got a little problem controlling his sixteen year old emotions."

"I have no emotion," stated Tom firmly.

"Yet you just yelled-"

"Shut up, Potter."

"Might as well call me Harry, now. You were calling me that just a moment ago.."

Tom said nothing.

"Harry, Tom! If you two would stop arguing, we may be able to get somewhere. Now, seeing as Tom and I are leaders, our--followers--will be wondering where we are. They will probably not believe us when we tell them Harry Potter has accidentally cast some kind of Aging Spell on us. Well, at least Tom's followers won't. And I don't think any of us should be doing magic. I don't know if the Ministry will detect all of our magic as underage. Now, we have to go somewhere and get out of these robes...the Muggles will notice."

"Who cares what the stupid Muggles think?" snarled Tom.

No one answered.

"Where are you going to go?" Harry asked Albus, glaring at Tom.

"Well, since we cannot perform magic, and there may he a horrible chance that the people on the Knight Bus will recognize one of us, we have to stay here until we find the counterspell."

"WHAT?" roared Tom. "Stay here, with Pot--Harry's ruddy relatives?"

"Yes, that's what I said. I wish you'd calm down, there's nothing to acheive by shouting and letting the whole world know about us," said Albus.

Tom glared at him and for a moment; there was nothing but silence.

"Well," said Harry heavily, "now what?"

"We go to Number four, Privet Drive," said Albus.

"We go to Number four, Privet Drive," mocked Tom quietly.

Albus turned and shot him a dangerous glare.

So, the three wizards walked across the park quite sluggishly, Tom and Albus' robes sagging off of them and dragging the ground. The three soon reached the street and were trudging down it reluctantly. From what Albus had seen of Harry's aunt and uncle, they were people not easy to get along with. Personally, he had hoped he'd never have to meet them. Now he'd have to live with them. Until he found out exactly what was cast on Tom and himself.

He knew that no one in the world could imagine that at this very moment, Lord Voldemort, Albus Dumbledore, and Harry Potter were walking down the same street, and not trying to kill each other.

Not yet, anyway.

Chapter two: Dursleys

It was around eleven o' clock (a.m.) when they reached Number four, Privet Drive. Tom was deeply scowling, and Albus was trying to keep Tom and Harry from arguing again.

Harry walked inside the house reluctantly and quietly looked around. Dudley was upstairs in his room, he could hear him stomping around.

Quietly, Harry sneaked upstairs, the other two following him, and he pushed them inside of his room and ran a hand through his hair.

"Clothes," he muttered, looking around. "I have shirts and jeans, that's all, and I'm sure they'll fit."

The other two said nothing at all. He tossed shirts and jeans to both of them and Albus went into the wardrobe to change (Harry didn't know how he fit in there) and Tom glared at Harry, who turned around and faced the wall, scowling as he changed clothes.

They both held their robes and Harry took them, putting them in his closet.

"We're going to go downstairs, stand in front of the door like we just came in, okay?" whispered Harry.

"Fine," said Tom, as Albus nodded his agreement.

So, they sneaked downstairs and stood in front of the door. Harry opened it then closed it again.

Aunt Petunia heard the door, came into view, and jumped.

"Who are these people, boy?" she asked quietly, but with obvious annoyance.

"These," he whispered, trying not to let Uncle Vernon hear, "are my...err...friends. Tom and Albus. Both of their parents are on a....vacation and they locked them both outside. They need a place to stay for a while, just until their parents get home. It shouldn't be too long."

"What time will they leave?" she hissed.

"Err....a few days, maybe a week or two?" He twisted his hands nervously.

"Are they...one of you?" she spat.

Harry stared at her. "No, Aunt Petunia, no."

Albus and Tom, both good at Legilimency (even though they were sixteen), knew he was lying even though they had no idea what she was talking about.

Aunt Petunia gave them dirty looks. "I suppose," she grunted. "But none of the rules in this house change for you. This is not a house for rejects, now get upstairs and out of my sight."

"Thank you," he whispered, and he walked upstairs, a disgruntled Tom and a quiet Albus following.

As he ushered them inside and closed the door behind him, he sighed.

"That was extremely lucky," he whispered. "She doesn't think you're wizards, so don't show that you know anything about the Wizarding World, okay?"

Tom said nothing and Albus nodded.

"Don't like you much, does she?" grinned Tom. "I like her."

"No, she doesn't," said Harry, glaring at him.

"Your dear old mum's sister, isn't she?"

"Shut up about my mum, you stupid piece of rubbish," snarled Harry.

"Temper..temper.."

"Yeah that's right," he spat. "Wanna test it some more?"

"Stop it," said Albus. It was a quiet but forceful voice, and Tom and Harry fell silent. "You two may hate each other, but you have to act like you don't while you're here."

Tom opened his mouth to say something until they heard Uncle Vernon roar something downstairs, then someone knock on the door.

"What?" Harry growled.

"Hey Potter, heard you actually have some friends! Just wanted to congratulate you," the person laughed.

"Shut up, Dudley, I'm not in the mood for you."

"Can't do anything in front of your little friends!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Keep knocking on the door and we'll see what I can and can't do!"

Silence.

Harry put his face in his hands and rubbed his face, then looked at Tom and Albus, who were still standing up and looking at him.

"You guys gonna stand up all day?"

Albus and Tom fought over the desk chair, and Albus won. Tom sat on the bed as far away from Harry as possible.

"Well, it looks like you'll grow up to be a little dark wizard, Harry, you know? Torturing Muggles and all that?" taunted Tom.

Harry crawled across the bed slowly, his eyes blazing and focused on Tom.

"I would never sink to your pathetic level," he said angrily. Tom only smirked, and Harry leapt across the bed and tackled him to the floor, his hands wrapped around Tom's neck.

Albus watched for a second as Harry choked Tom, wondering if this was how the prophecy would be fulfilled one day, by suffocation.

He stood and crossed the room, and broke up the fight.

"You two," he said calmly, "are going to have to stop this nonsense. I can't let you kill each other, we need you both alive to work out this spell..."

Albus stood between them until they calmed down, Tom coughing again where Harry had attempted to choke him to death.

And so they all sat down again, Albus trying to run through possible spells in his head while Tom was rubbing his neck and Harry was staring furiously at him.

"Would you stop staring at me?" Tom finally asked. "Or are you in so much awe of me that you can't stop?"

It was meant to be a cruel kind of statement, but instead it was more pleading. Harry, sensing the pleading in his voice, didn't want to look away, but he did anyway.

"POTTER!" came a thunderous voice from downstairs.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?"

"What are you doing? Sitting up there doing nothing?"

Harry didn't know what to say. Albus and Tom watched him closely.

"Get your ruddy self down here and prepare dinner! Bring your friends and cook for them too!"

Harry gestured at Tom and Albus to follow him and they went back downstairs. Uncle Vernon glared at Harry as he walked past and didn't even look at Tom or Albus.

"Hurry up," snarled Aunt Petunia. Harry immediately got to it as his Aunt and Uncle left the room, leaving Tom and Albus.

"They're going to ask you about your parents," whispered Harry. "I know they are. Tell them something that won't bring up many questions, please make it as Muggle as possible."

This time, Harry's voice was more pleading. He returned to cooking the spaghetti, and when he had drained it and poured the sauce, Dudley came in and poked him in the back.

"What do you want?"

"Mum and dad said you can't eat today," taunted Dudley.

"I don't care. Go away."

Tom sneered at the whale-like form of Dudley as he sat down at the table with Albus.

Finally Harry finished and his Aunt and Uncle came in and shooed Harry out, then the five of them began eating. Albus however, watched Harry leave sadly and suddenly lost his appetite, and merely acted like he was eating. Albus could see why Harry hated coming back to the Dursleys', they didn't even let him eat!

Tom had noticed as well, but it didn't stop him from eating.

"So, boys," said Uncle Vernon in an impressive manner. "May I ask what your parents do for a living?"

Tom and Albus exchanged a quick glance.

"Our fathers are construction workers...." lied Albus quickly. "My mother is a nurse and his is a---err--teacher."

Tom's nose crinkled. Teacher?

"Really? What does she teach?"

"Primary school," answered Tom, sighing with annoyance.

"What are your full names?" asked Aunt Petunia curiously.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," said Tom, mentally cursing her. 'If she laughs...I'm going to hex her...'

She didn't laugh, she only nodded and looked expectantly at Albus.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," he said, then gasped slightly, covering his mouth.

'Great, I forgot she knew who I was...' he thought wildly.

Aunt Petunia dropped her spoon and gaped. "Dumbledore?"

"I'm full," said Albus quickly. "It was delicious, thank you."

Aunt Petunia was looking at him suspiciously. They asked no more questions to Tom and Albus's relief.

Upstairs, Harry was sitting furiously in his bedroom. Oh, so Lord Voldemort proudly ate with his relatives, probably plotting how to kill them, but he had to stay upstairs with no food at all. He hated being Harry Potter.

The door opened a few minutes later, revealing a full Tom and a not-very-happy looking Albus.

A bit angry, Harry didn't look at them, and he stood up to find some pajamas.

"I'm going to take a shower. Oh, are you guys going to take a shower? Or does Lord Voldemort not take showers?" he shot at Tom.

Tom frowned. "Lord Voldemort is very hygienic, thank you very much."

Harry rolled his eyes at him. "Albus?"

"Yes, Harry, I'd like to take one.."

Harry went through his closet, pulled out two pairs of loose jogging pants and two big shirts, and threw a pair to each.

"As for underwear," he said, "I'm not providing those, but if you go downstairs and throw them in the washer, I'll wash them. Or..err...does Lord Voldemort not wear underwear? And I'm assuming you two know what a washer is?"

"I know what a washer is," said Tom shortly. He completely ignored the other question.

"Well, the bathroom's down here on the right when you guys come to take a shower."

Harry disappeared to take a shower, and when he returned, his hair wet, he looked at the two of them.

"What were you talking about?" he asked.

"Politics," said Albus. "Cornelius Fudge, mostly."

"He's a git," said Harry curtly. "Who's next for a shower?"

"Me," said Albus and Tom at the same time.

Tom impatiently tossed his head. "Go ahead."

"Thank you," said Albus, with a bit of a hiss in his voice.

So Tom and Harry sat on the bed, not really looking at each other.

"You know," said Tom. "This will be the only time I will sit in the same room with you and not try to kill you."

"I know, I don't much like you either."

Harry had wanted to say "same here" but chose not to.

"Kind of strange, this," said Tom. He wasn't sounding much like Lord Voldemort anymore. "I remember living in quite the same situation you are in. Parentless, an orphan."

"You chose to loose both of your parents, though. I didn't. You may not have murdered your mum, but you did your dad. Then you went off and killed mine after a while," his voice was a forced calm.

Tom was silent for a moment. "I don't understand you, Harry Potter."

Harry stared at him. "What d'you mean by that? You know it's true--"

"That's not what I'm talking about, you fool," he said sharply. "How is it that you keep escaping from me? What is it about you, eh? And you live a life so much like mine was, why?"

Harry was starting to get a bit creeped out. "I have no idea, why are you asking?"

The door opened, revealing a clean and slightly out-of-breath Albus, and the two fell silent.

"I'm surprised," said Albus. "I would have figured one of you had tried to murder the other while I was gone."

"Didn't have enough time," said Harry. "You're fast."

Tom stood up to take a shower without another word.

When he returned, they got ready to go to bed, except Harry, who had no intention of falling asleep with Lord Voldemort in the same room.

"One of you can sleep on the bed," grumbled Harry. "It's not comfortable anyway."

"Are you sure?" asked Albus.

"Yeah, I don't care..."

Tom was about to protest that he wanted to sleep on the bed, but Albus climbed on it without another word and covered up. Harry gathered some blankets and pillows from downstairs, made himself a bed on one side of the real bed, and threw the others at Tom, telling him to make his own. ("Didn't want you to make it anyway," Tom had snapped)

Albus was the first to fall asleep, and Tom was dozing slightly, but he didn't want to fall asleep, much like the same reason Harry had. But after a while, he laughed to himself. Was he afraid to fall asleep?

So, he settled down and finally fell asleep.

Harry was awake, leaning against his closet, twirling his wand. He'd give so much just to curse Tom right now. He found himself opening his eyes less and closing them more, and he slid off the closet and hit the floor, waking up again. 'What am I doing?'

He decided he'd lay down and stay awake, that he'd close his eyes for just a few seconds...just to rest a few seconds.

But he fell asleep. And as soon as he did so, the dreams started.


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As Sirius was falling through the veil, a high pitch laugh rang in his ears. The laugh of Lord Voldemort, a cruel and evil laugh.

"See what you've done?" whispered Voldemort. And as Sirius disappeared, Harry could hear him. "Harry! Harry!"

"Look what you've done!"

"It's all your fault," said a voice, oddly like Cedric's. The words echoed through his head.

It's all your fault.....it's all your fault.....it's all your fault.


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Tom woke up to a small whining noise, and so did Albus. The both of them were light sleepers, and the sound of whining immediately caught their attention.
Albus looked over the bed onto the floor, where Harry was squirming, his eyes scrunched and his breath coming in short little bursts, making him whine slightly.

"Harry?" whispered Albus.

Tom stood up and walked around the room. He had never been there in person while the boy was having a dream, and he wanted to see one for himself.

He looked down at Harry, slightly shocked at the sight of him.

He was covered in sweat, but he was shivering, mouthing incoherent words, tears running down his face. He tossed and turned until Albus got down on the floor beside him.

"Harry, wake up, Harry..." Harry stopped tossing and mouthing, as if he were listening.

"Open your eyes, it's just a dream...wake up..."

Harry opened his eyes, the first person he saw was Albus, then Tom.

Tom Riddle.

Harry backed up against the closet, breathing deeply as he ground out at Tom, "I hate you."

Tom said nothing, and Albus stood up.

"Back to bed," he said sternly, and looked at Tom straight in the eye before climbing back on the bed. Tom glared at him. How dare he boss about Lord Voldemort?

But he was in no position to argue, especially with Albus Dumbledore, and walked back over to his little nest on the floor and listened to Harry, whose breathing was shaky and loud.

He wondered what the boy had dreamt about, but he thought he had a pretty shrewd idea.


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A/N: By the way, if you're wondering what happened to the underwear, Harry washed them while he was downstairs getting pillows and blankets. ..hehe.

Chapter three: Teenagers

They all three woke up late the next morning. Albus gaped at the clock, which read 12:44.

"I haven't slept this long in one hundred years," he said, throwing the covers off with slight disgust at himself.

"Don't worry about it, Albus," said Harry, who was sitting in the floor and still looking tired. "You're sixteen now. You know, I heard Aunt Petunia saying that teenagers need more sleep than younger children."

Tom snorted. "Babies?"

"Did I say babies?" snapped Harry. "Younger children, Tom."

He gathered up his blankets and pillows, took Tom's away from him roughly, and threw them all in a corner.

"Are we going to eat breakfast?" asked Tom.

"Yeah, come on downstairs," said Harry to both of them.

Albus hesitated.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry skeptically.

"He let his full name slip out downstairs at dinner last night," grinned Tom. "And your Aunt...what's her name....Penguin?"

"Petunia," corrected Harry. "Honestly, Tom, I swear. Your stupidity simply amazes me. Who would name their child 'Penguin'?" he said, looking at Tom like he was much more stupid than he is.

Tom looked thoughtful. "It would certainly be an unusual name--"

"Nobody would name their kid 'Penguin'."

"Yeah, well, anyway. Petunia. She recognized it. Could you imagine her face if I told her I was Lord Voldemort?"

He gave a short bark of laughter.

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Haha--shut up. Get downstairs or you get nothing to eat."

Tom grumbled and began his journey down the staircase.

"Come on, Albus," whispered Harry.

Albus stood from the bed and looked at Harry. "I don't want to bring up questions."

"If questions are brought up," said Harry, ushering Albus out of the doorframe, "then I'll provide safe answers, okay?"

"Like what?"

"Like 'He doesn't know what you're talking about' and kind of look at her like she's mad."

Albus wasn't completely convinced, but he was hungry, so he went downstairs, Harry following.

"What are you cooking?" asked Tom, rubbing his hands together and grinning.

"Who said I was the only one cooking it? Get over here."

"What?"

"You're helping. Now get over here and help with the toast and eggs. Albus, you can sit down and watch."

Albus and Harry exchanged a glance and they both grinned.

"This is utterly ridiculous," snarled Tom.

"Well, I utterly don't care what you think. Put the toast in the toaster," Harry snapped.

Tom glared at him (he used to be really good at glaring, but he obviously had lost his touch, because no one was qualling under his stares anymore) and stuck the toast irritably in the toaster, pushing them down.

Tom made to sit down, but Harry grabbed him by the arm and pulled him over by the stove.

"I don't think so," laughed Harry. "Eggs. Break them."

"You enjoy forcing me to do things, don't you?" growled Tom.

"Sure do! Now hurry up, or you'll get lunch prepared too."

"I'm Lord Voldemort. You cannot force me--"

Harry stood and stared at him face-to-face, his eyes firey, and he just so happened to be an inch or two taller than Tom.

After a few moment's staring, Tom ended up breaking the eggs after all, cursing Harry under his breath.

"Oh, stop mumbling," Harry said impatiently after a while to Tom. "If you don't I'll get Dudley to sit on you."

Tom said nothing for the rest of breakfast.


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After breakfast, Tom had requested they go outside and get out of the "abnormally bright and clean" house, and so the three of them made their way outside. Tom was looking around, and Harry fell behind a few steps beside Albus.

"Albus," he whispered very quietly, anxiously glancing at Tom. "Are there still Order members tailing me?"

At this thought, Albus stopped walking and looked at Harry. "Yes," he whispered back. "When we get back to the house, I'm going to write a letter to them. There is a certain....way...they can tell it is me writing the letter. Only I and the Order know it, so I will write them to let them know what is going on. I will need to ask you a few questions, though--"

"What are you doing?" shouted Tom, from way down at the end of the road.

"Nothing!" Harry shouted back. "Why don't you come back some? No need for us to walk that far!" He turned back to Albus as Tom let out a frustrated sigh and started walking back.

"Who's tailing me right now?" he asked, looking around him.

"Right now? Nymphadora. But we mustn't talk about anything Order-related around Tom. Okay?"

"Right," he said, as Tom came back, looking halfway-angry.

"You two are so lazy," he snapped. "How the Light side--"

Harry stepped on his foot, hard, and he cursed.

"What the ruddy hell did you do that for?"

"Come on, we have to get back inside. Right now, Tom," added Harry hurriedly, looking around him.

The three of them went inside and Harry herded them up to his room, and locked the door behind him.

"Albus," said Harry seriously, yet quietly. "Was there any...guard duty...taking place yesterday morning?"

"Probably not," said Albus, shaking his head quickly and frowning. "Dung would have been doing it, and he has a...err...short attention span, shall we say?"

Normally, Albus wouldn't have used Mundungus Fletcher's nickname, but around Tom....

"What are you talking about?" asked Tom.

Harry shook his head. "Nothing to worry about," he lied.

"You're lying," said Tom flatly.

"Yes, I am," Harry said shortly as he pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. "Albus?"

Albus walked over to the desk. "Thank you."

With that, he started writing a letter. Tom kept trying to look at it, but Albus would look at him dangerously, and he finally gave up and sat on the bed.

Albus wrote:

62442--not needed.

15152016,

I'm assuming you're very confused as to why my writing has suddenly changed and as to why I am unable to magically seal the envelope.

It's a very complicated thing, but I must let you know that I need your help, because I am no longer my old age. Let me explain.

Voldemort came to the park near Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk to attack Harry, who was there at the time. I got the call that he was there back at my office in Hogwarts, and so I was able to arrive there. Voldemort and I dueled, and when Voldemort sent a hex at Harry, Harry made to defend himself.

He paused right here to look at Harry. "Now, tell me. Do you have any idea what you were trying to send at Tom?"

"I wasn't trying to send anything particular. Somehow a bunch of words escaped from my mouth," shrugged Harry.

"What color was the ray of light again? Silver?"

"Yeah. And you remember that it hit Tom first then hit you."

"Right, thank you, that's really all I need I think."

He returned to the letter:

Harry is not sure what exactly he yelled when he sent the spell at Voldemort, but the ray of light from his wand was silver, and it managed to hit Voldemort, then it ricocheted from him and hit me.

Yes, all three of us are fine right now. There is no need for immediate and hasty action. It just seems that the spell Harry sent was some kind of Aging Spell. Myself and Voldemort (Tom) are now sixteen years old, but we still have the mind our our much older selves. I expected the spell to wear off by the next day, but we are still sixteen. That is abnormal- most Aging Spells wear off after a complete twenty-four hours.

Do not inform the Ministry of Magic, nor tell anyone outside of the Order. We are staying at Number 4, Privet Drive, with Harry. Since the three of us, that is to say Tom, Harry, and I, are "underage" right now, I do not want the Ministry to detect our magic and risk possibly getting Harry into further trouble. We cannot take the Knight Bus, for the fear that someone might recognize us (even if we are currently sixteen).

Please do not panic, it will only make the situation worse. If need be, send any information I need to see to Harry's house, and please send Fawkes here as well with his food. Also, please research this spell so that Tom and I can return to normal. No, Tom is not murderous at the moment, thankfully. As to he and Harry being in the same house, Harry has tried to suffocate him once, they've both argued and threatened the whole entire time, and I'm the one responsible for calming each of them down. Otherwise, we are fine.

Thank you,
Lo15

He rolled up the piece of parchment, tied it, and Harry called Hedwig down from her cage.

She hooted and affectionately nipped Harry's finger as he took the parchment from Albus and tied it to her leg while she hopped around, eager to deliver a letter.

"Hedwig," said Harry, gaining her attention. "Take this to the Order, it is very urgent, so try to fly fast." Hedwig hooted again. Harry gave her an owl treat and she took off out the window.

Harry turned around and looked at Tom. "Need to send your Death Eaters a letter?" he said roughly.

Tom looked completely unconcerned. "No, they know what they're supposed to be doing. And if I'm gone they know to feed my precious Nagini--"

Harry snorted and laughed.

Tom sat up from lying on the bed and glared at him. "Nothing is funny."

Harry shook his head and continued grinning, much to Tom's irritation.

Albus sighed. "Harry, where are your school books? And all other magical books you have?"

Harry stopped grinning and walked over to end of his bed where his trunk lay. "In here," he said, rummaging through it. He pulled out all of his school books that he had ever had and piled them beside his bed. He also pulled out the ones Remus and Sirius gave him last year, and the books Hermione had given him over the years.

Tom reached over and picked up the first one. "A Divination book?" he said, grinning.

"Yeah, that's what it says," said Harry.

"And what do you know about Divination?"

"That it's a very strange subject, taught by an equally strange teacher."

Thinking of Professor Trelawney made him think about the prophecy.

Albus was not paying much attention. He was picking up books and flipping through them.

"Funny, you know. Divination actually did do something. That prophecy--"

Albus slammed his book shut and looked at Harry.

Tom noticed this gesture and raise an eyebrow. "My, my. Is there something you two know that I don't?"

"Even if I did know something," snarled Harry. "You wouldn't figure it out. I can resist the Imperius Curse, remember? And I'm sure Albus can too."

"I know you can," Tom snapped. "And I don't have enough time for Veritaserum. But I wonder every day what that prophecy said....I know you two know..."

Harry was shaking slightly. "Congratulations on your achievement," he said sarcastically. "Now research and do something useful."

Warily, Albus returned to his book with a sigh. It took a few hours of looking through the books and Tom was whining. "I'm hungry..."

"You sound like Dudley."

This time it was Albus that had replied instead of the usual remark from Harry, and Harry grinned. Tom tapped his foot impatiently on the floor and got back to the books, mumbling.

"Nothing," muttered Albus as they went through every single book. "There are things about Aging Spells, but nothing I didn't already know."

"Well, well. It seems Hogwarts doesn't provide sufficient education--" smirked Tom.

Albus glared sharply at him. "Err...yeah....nevermind," Tom trailed off, looking down and slamming his book.

"Can we go get something to eat now?"

Harry slammed his book with a loud, frustrated sigh and threw it on the floor, standing. "Come on, Tom, I'll get you something to eat, you obnoxious complainer..."

"Brilliant!" said Tom, standing enthusiastically. Albus decided he'd follow so that they wouldn't try to kill each other on the way downstairs. Even though they all knew they needed each other alive to figure out this spell, Albus and Harry still hated Tom and vice versa.

Dudley was downstairs at the table, eating a whole six-pack of yogurt, watching the three of them. Tom rolled his eyes in disgust, Harry ignored him, and Albus only glanced at him.

"What are you doing down here for?" grumbled Dudley, yogurt flying from his mouth and spraying their faces.

"Getting something to eat, if you've left anything," growled Harry, wiping his face with disgust. "And by the way--even though you've convenientally spit it all over our faces-- no one asked for any yogurt."

Tom couldn't help it, he laughed. Albus tried hard not to crack a smile, but failed.

Dudley flushed and gathered his yogurt, leaving the room and dropping his spoon on the way out.

After a bite to eat, Tom requested they go back outside (much to Harry's irritation, for he had felt like going back upstairs) and they walked down the road in silence, coming around a corner and all three stopping.

A group of girls were giggling- a group of extremely nice looking girls in the boy's eyes. They turned and looked at them, giggled again, and started walking toward them. Tom grinned. "Excellent, Potter--err..Harry, you have a nice access to girls here.."

Then he suddenly frowned. "Why did I just say that?"

"Because you're sixteen, and you're sixteen year old hormones are beginning to go to your head," answered Albus calmly. And with that, he turned and began to walk away, many feet away where he suddenly stopped and started talking.

Harry glanced over at him and his brow furrowed. Who was he talking to?

Tom hadn't noticed, he was grinning as a girl in front approached him.

"What's your name, cutie?" she giggled.

Harry suddenly burst out in a fit of laughter. That girl had just called Lord Voldemort a cutie....Lord Voldemort!

Tom, however, raised his eyebrows at Harry. "Anything funny?" he said, in a much more mature voice, undoubtedly trying to impress the girl.

Harry stopped laughing and had a thoroughly annoyed look on his face. "Oh stop your impressive voice, Tom, come on."

He grabbed Tom by the arm and started dragging him away.

"Where are you two going?" squealed the girl. "I'm not done with either of you!"

"Well we're done with you!" snapped Harry loudly.

The girl blew Tom a kiss and Tom turned around and grinned, about to return it with his hand to his lips, when Harry grabbed his arm and pushed him forward.

"Don't look at me like that," said Harry as the girls disappeared and Tom watched them, giving Harry a roll of his eyes.

"You're just mad you don't have a girlfriend," taunted Tom.

"That would be your fault," said Harry bluntly. "Because if I did, you'd kill her."

"You've got a point there, I admit," sighed Tom.

Albus had returned from talking to some invisible person who Harry shrewdly guessed was Tonks, and was acting as if nothing happened.

"So you had to drag Tom away from the girls?" asked Albus.

"Yes," said Harry. "He was infatuated with staring at them."

"I wasn't infatuated--"

"Shut up," interrupted Harry. "We're going back to the house."

And that they did, both sensing Harry was very angry at the moment for some reason, so they followed without another word, not quite sure why Harry was so mad. When they reached Harry's bedroom again, Harry sat on the bed, fuming.

The door opened exposing Dudley and his smirking face, obviously looking for an argument. Before he could say anything, Harry said in a dangerously angry voice, "I'd get out if I were you, right now."

"Why?" laughed Dudley.

Harry picked up a book while he was laughing, and chucked it straight at Dudley's head, hitting him smack on the forehead.

"OUCH!"

He slammed the door shut, rubbing his head furiously. Dudley wasn't the only one rubbing his head, Harry was holding a hand over his scar, wincing.

Albus suddenly realized why Harry was so annoyed; his scar was hurting. Tom, however, raised an eyebrow.

"Somebody's crabby."

Harry opened an eye and glared at him. "Seems your Death Eaters are having some fun, no doubt."

"Ahh..I see...that scar I plastered on your head hurts."

"Yeah, and I always know what emotion you're feeling. Funny, eh? Well, I dunno why, I just know that sometimes I feel an emotion completely unrelated to what's going on around me."

"Oh really?" said Tom. "That's almost as funny as you sometimes popping into my head and knowing what I'm doing."

He scowled considerably.

Harry didn't answer, he merely leaned back on the bed, Albus flipping through the books again, Tom deep in thought on the floor.

And as Harry mused on the bed, he realized Tom was about as obnoxious as a sixteen-year-old than he was in the form of Lord Voldemort.

--------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Wondering what those weird numbers meant in Albus's letter? Here's what they are:
The numbers, they actually stand for letters. As you know, there's 26 letters in the alphabet, so each of the letters are a number, if you know what I mean. I typed them all crammed together because the Order would have recognized the code numbers anyway. So here is what they stand for:

"62442- not needed"--that number is actually not really a letter code that I made up. They are the numbers required to enter the visitor's entrance in the Ministry of Magic. What Albus meant was that "Ministry of Magic help is not needed", signifying that the situation didn't need Ministry assistance. If he had put 'needed' beside the number, that would have meant that he needed the Ministry's help.

"15152016,"--is actually (15-15-20-16) this was who the letter was addressed to. Counting the alphabet, the letters would be OOTP, and I know you all know what that stands for.

"Lo15." --the signature part of the letter. 'Lo' stands for 'Leader of' and when you count the alphabet, 15 is O. Putting it together would be 'Leader of O', and the O stands for Order, so the 'Leader of Order' is, of course, Albus Dumbledore. He could have put the numbers for 'L' and 'o', but the letters and the numbers combined would have made it more confusing to an outsider's point of view. (In my opinion, anyway...)

By the way, in case you are afraid, Tom will NOT turn good in this story. LOL

Thanks! :D

Chapter four: Work

Until night, they flipped through the books in boredom, but as Harry stared at the page, he wasn't taking in one bit of it...

He frowned. The two days he had spent in the company of Tom and Albus, he hadn't thought of Sirius's death once, discluding the nightmare about him. The two of them were keeping him so busy that he hadn't had a chance to think about it. Is that the only bright side to living with Voldemort in your house? Voldemort, the man that had caused Sirius's death, was sitting right in front of him on his bedroom floor...

As he thought this, a tear rolled down his cheek. Tom just happened to look up at this time, and stared at Harry as he wiped the tear away furiously and took a deep and shuddering breath to calm himself.

Tom looked away down at his book indifferently and gave a yawn.

Harry decided he'd take a shower in the morning, so he gathered some clothes and changed, not really caring what the other two did at the moment, he felt very tired. He lay back down on the bed, and Tom gave a huffy, annoyed noise.

"What?" he asked angrily.

"I think we should have a schedule on who sleeps on the bed each night," said Tom calmly.

Harry had to admit that this was a good idea. "Fine. Albus slept on it last night, I'll sleep on it tonight, and you can sleep on it tomorrow. We go in that pattern, okay?"

Tom frowned slightly. He was hoping he'd get to sleep on the bed tonight, but Potter always had to have his way....'Stupid idiot,' he thought savagely.

He made a nest on the floor, but Albus did not show any signs of wanting to go to bed. He had stopped looking through the books, but was looking at the window expectantly.

"Err...Albus--" began Harry.

A burst of flame made all three of them jump.

"What was---?" said Tom loudly, but his question was answered as the phoenix appeared at the end of Harry's bed, a bag of food tied to one leg and a letter tied to another.

"That was fast," said Harry, raising an eyebrow at the letter.

Albus took it before Tom did and stroked Fawkes, who was looking at him as if amused. He looked over at Tom and gave a whistle that sounded half-angry.

Harry remembered that Fawkes had seen Tom before--in the Chamber of Secrets.

"Seems like he remembers you," laughed Harry at Tom.

"Imbecile bird," Tom muttered under his breath. Fawkes squawked, offended.

"Ignore him, Fawkes," whispered Albus when he finished with the letter. "He's a sore loser. Hmm...I haven't said those words in a very long time..."

Tom glared at him and punched his pillow, burying his head in it. Harry grinned and Fawkes hopped over to him, singing some of his phoenix tune that made Tom want to vomit.

Harry stroked the bird absentmindedly, looking questioningly over at Albus.

"The letter was from Moony," stated Albus. "He said that they'll start researching immediately, and.....that....our Metamorphmagus was wondering who Tom and I were."

Albus had to admit that keeping Tom in the dark about everything was quite satisfying.

"Good," said Harry. "Err....can Muggles see phoenixes?"

Fawkes flew on top of the wardrobe and was scratching around.

"Yes," Albus said.

"You really are stupid, P--Harry," mumbled Tom from the floor.

"Shut up, Tom, before I send Fawkes to go and poke out Nagini's eyes...just like he did that basilisk...."

Tom was going to open his mouth to retort, but couldn't think of anything to say, so pulled the cover over his head and grumbled.

Albus walked around the bed to the other side, where he made his little bed and got into it, sighing.

Harry turned off the light and also got into bed, where he fell asleep a lot more quickly than last night.


------------------------------------------------------------------------


He was back at Hogwarts, Hermione was shouting at him, Ron was lying at their feet...dead...

He began crying, and ran to the Room of Requirement, where the veil sat, swaying... so many voices....Dobby ran inside, saying Umbridge was on her way....

He ran. Ran from the Room of Requirement, down to the Quidditch Pitch, where the Dursleys' house sat....he could hear screams from inside...he needed to save his family, even if he hated them....Death Eaters were inside, the house was beginning to burn.

"No!" he shouted. A strange force was holding him back... "NO!"

The Dark Mark rose into the air, and Voldemort walked from the inside of the house, the flames not touching him....his mouth twisted into a smile.

His merciless, red eyes focused upon Harry and he pointed at him...

A huge, dark creature---a hideous, batlike creature that looked strangely like a featherless phoenix---stretched its black and leathery wings, revealing its body, which was yellow-like bones covered with shreds of black skin, every inch of its skin crawling with maggots---it gave off a foul smell of death---its eyes were clouded, pale with red slits, rolling in their sockets, it gave an earsplitting scream. Its mouth was full of pointed teeth, saliva dripping---dried blood was on its claws...

It flew right at Harry as Voldemort pointed at him, its bloodstained claws ready to penetrate through Harry's skin....he couldn't run....


------------------------------------------------------------------------


What the hell is that?!

He awoke, screaming loudly, scrambling around in his bed, standing and running across the room, where he turned on the light, panting and shaking like mad...

Looking round, he spotted no hideous phoenix, only a magnificent one perched on the wardrobe, and Hedwig was back, she had a frog in her beak.

Tom and Albus had awoke from Harry's screams, looking wildly at him.

"What is it?" Albus said quickly.

Harry didn't answer immediately, he looked out of the window and walked around the room nervously before sitting back on the bed.

"KEEP IT DOWN IN THERE!" shouted Uncle Vernon from outside of the room.

"Y-Yes, Uncle Vernon," said Harry, coughing.

He covered back up with the blanket and looked at Albus.

"Nightmare," he muttered. "Weird...nothing...s'okay....you can go back to sleep.."

But Albus wouldn't hear of it; he wanted details.

"Albus," said Harry, his teeth chattering slightly. "It's fine, I'm all right, it wasn't one of those....real nightmare things," he added hastily. "Just a bad dream. Impossible, some of the stuff."

Albus sighed. Not many things caused Harry Potter to scream in fear, as he has figured out over the years. From encounters with Acromantulas, to Basilisks, to Lord Voldemort himself, Harry was not one to scream in terror.

Tom had just been staring very sleepily at him, once again very curious as to what the boy (the other boy, rather, since he was a boy himself) had been dreaming.

Harry covered himself with the covers and lay back down, and found himself face-to-face with Tom.

"What?" he asked.

"Just watching you scream in terror," smirked Tom.

"I wasn't 'screaming in terror'..."

"Uh...yes, you were. The truth really hurts, Harry--"

"Yeah, well, so does a kick in the arse," he snarled.

"Harry," sighed Albus, but there was a slightly sharp tinge in his voice. "Go to sleep. You too, Tom. You can be violent tomorrow when I'm awake to supervise you."

He had not meant to say that--it had slipped. 'This teenage stuff is making me senile,' he thought.

Tom had opened his mouth to protest, but Albus leaned up and stared at him in the eyes, and he shut his mouth. Finally, the three managed to fall asleep, Harry had no nightmares, and no one tried to kill anyone.


------------------------------------------------------------------------


That is, until the morning, when an owl came crashing into Harry's window, waking them up.

"This is the most sleep-depriving household I've ever been in!" Tom shouted as he threw the covers off himself furiously.

Harry crossed the room and opened the window, allowing the confused owl to fly in.

"Don't yell at me," snapped Harry. "It's your fault we all have to stay here."

"Oh yeah? Well if you'd have died around fifteen years ago then I wouldn't have had to come here to try and finish you off!"

"If you hadn't have tried to kill me in the first place--"

"--don't blame this rubbish on me--!"

"--it's your fault, don't deny it--"

"--stupid liar--"

"--obsessive hypocrite--"

Albus buried his face in his hands, shaking his head.

"Hypocrite? I think not!" yelled Tom.

Harry gave a bark of laughter. "Whatever, are you really that thick? Here you are--a half-blood--saying all half-bloods should die and are stupid and not even remembering you're one yourself!"

Tom let out a loud, frustrated growl and kicked Harry's trunk. 'I was hoping no one would remember that,' he thought angrily. 'Damn...'

Harry look the letter from the owl and realized it was quite heavy.

"My O.W.L. results," he muttered. "I...err..really don't want to open these..."

"I'll open them," said Tom, trying to take them from Harry.

"I don't want you opening them either," said Harry, rolling his eyes.

"They aren't bad at all," said Albus.

"How do you know?" asked Tom.

"Because, Tom, I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Honestly, like I said before, those hormones are going to your head," said Albus, raising an eyebrow.

Tom flushed slightly.

"Uh oh," laughed Harry. "Lord Voldemort just blushed! What's that supposed to mean?"

"Shut up, you idiot..."

Harry shook his head and looked at the envelope, breaking the seal. He pulled out the first letter, the usual letter that told that he was to return to Hogwarts on September first, and the second letter was his book list.

"I guess this last one is the results," whispered Harry.

"Well, seeing as that's the last one in the envelope, and you haven't seen those yet, chances are that those would be your O.W.L results," said Tom, smirking.

"Another genius observation from Tom Riddle," said Harry, glaring at him.

"Are you going to open your results, Harry, so that Tom can make more snide comments?" asked Albus.

"I suppose.."

He took out the letter, threw the envelope at Tom, who scowled, and opened the letter, tense. Albus stood up and walked around the room and looked over Harry's shoulder:

Fifth Year Ordinary Wizarding Level Results for: Harry James Potter

House/Head: Gryffindor--Minerva McGonagall

Key:

O- Outstanding

E- Exceeds Expectations

A- Acceptable

P- Poor

D- Dreadful

Results are combined Practical and Theory exams.

Astronomy, Professor Sinistra: A

Care of Magical Creatures, Professor Grubbly-Plank/Professor Hagrid: O

Charms, Professor Flitwick: E

Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Umbridge: O Achieved Highest Grade of Class

Divination, Professor Trelawney: D

Herbology, Professor Sprout: E

History of Magic, Professor Binns: Excused from exam, O.W.L not counted.

Potions, Professor Snape: O

Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall: O

Overall Possible O.W.L.'s: 8 (One excused from 9)

Total O.W.L.'s Received: 7

N.E.W.T. classes on back.

Harry gaped at it.

"Seven out of eight? No way...someone's made a mistake...an Outstanding in Potions? I can't wait to see the look on Snape's face!"

He snorted and gave the letter to Albus, sitting down on the bed.

"Professor Snape, Harry, and I daresay we couldn't let our someday Auror fail, could we?" whispered Albus in Harry's ear. Harry grinned.

"I knew I didn't get that on my own," laughed Harry.

"Get what on your own? The grade?" asked Tom, glaring at him.

"Mind your own business, Tom."

Tom scowled and as Albus gave the letter back to Harry, Tom took it from him.

"Hmm...a Dreadful in Divination? Excused from the History of Magic exam?"

"Yeah," snapped Harry. "That was when you sent me that fake vision."

Suddenly, he felt so angry that he couldn't explain it. He curled his hands into fists and stood up abruptly, longing to grasp Tom's neck and shake the life from him...

Tom did not notice, and said nothing about the vision. "Well, well. The highest grade of the class in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Should I be terrified?"

He laughed bitterly.

"Harry," said Albus firmly. "Don't--"

Harry lost it. He slammed a fist into Tom's jaw and knocked him to the ground.

"How many times must I tell you two!?" shouted Albus. "STOP IT!"

Albus pushed Harry off Tom and Tom jumped up, trying to attack Harry. Albus stood between them, hands reached out to both of them.

"Listen to me," said Albus, and for the first time this summer, he looked truly angry. "I know, trust me, I know you hate each other. Tom, I don't like you either, but that doesn't mean I must kill you--"

"No, Albus, that's my job," said Harry. Tom raised an eyebrow.

"--and this spell probably requires the three of us to be alive and healthy, and if you two don't stop trying to kill each other, then we're going to be stuck like this for the rest of our lives, and don't look at me like that, Tom. I'm not going to take your rubbish today, and Harry, you're letting Tom get to you. He's trying to make you angry, don't you see that? Now please, sit down," he said.

Tom and Harry, seeing Albus's red face, sat down.

Harry snatched his results from the floor and looked at them again before throwing them in his trunk, fuming. Albus had his arms crossed across his chest, and Tom was tapping a foot impatiently on the floor.

"This is ridiculous," muttered Tom. "This whole stupid 'staying at Harry's house' situation is just ridiculous. I have a good mind to just leave right now--"

"That, Tom, will not be happening," said Albus coldly. "You will stay right here until this spell is figured out, then after that, I could care less if you jumped off a bridge. Or better yet, a cliff."

"Oh, stuff a sock in it, you old fool."

"SHUT UP, TOM!" bellowed Harry. "JUST SHUT YOUR STUPID MOUTH FOR ONCE!"

The whole room fell into an uncomfortable silence, then a soft knock was at the door.

"Are you guys having problems in there?" snickered Dudley.

Harry, who was still fuming, crossed the room and opened the door.

"What do you want, you obnoxious prat?" spat Harry.

"I was listening to your conversation--" he began stupidly and triumphantly.

Before he could say anything else, Harry pulled him inside, shut the door, and pulled out his wand. Dudley backed against the wall.

"What did you hear?" asked Harry, frustrated.

"I...I...didn't..."

Harry pointed his wand at him. "Tell me, Dudley."

"You--you got in trouble last time--you--you can't use it.."

"Stop changing the subject. What did you hear?" he repeated.

"I..I heard Albus say that a spell has to be figured out and that Tom should jump off a cliff, then I heard you yell for T-Tom to shut up..."

"Did you hear anything before that?"

"N-No..."

"Are you lying to me?"

His eyes were glaring at him dangerously.

"No."

"Very well," he said, lowering his wand.

"Now...now they know you're a freak! And I bet they're freaks too!"

Harry grinned and Tom snorted.

"Good guess," said Tom. "You're absolutely right." He pulled out his wand too, and Dudley whimpered.

"Ahh...how I miss the torture--"

Albus covered Tom's mouth roughly with his hand.

"Listen to me, Dudley," said Harry. "You will not repeat what you heard to anyone, and you will not tell your mum and dad that Tom and Albus are wizards. If you do, you'll wish you'd never overheard us. You understand? Don't you dare tell anyone. Because this is extremely important. You don't want to mess it up. Is that clear?"

"C-crystal," said Dudley, shuddering.

Harry pushed him out of his room and locked the door. They all heard Dudley's footsteps scamper away and a door slam.

"Do you think he is going to tell his parents, Harry?" asked Albus.

"Let's hope not. Lately he's quite good about threats and not telling about them. Especially when Mr. Wand comes into play."

Tom snickered. "Stupid Muggles..."

"Okay," said Harry, pretending not to hear Tom. "I have some homework to do. Seeing as you two are the most...err...powerful wizards of the day, you should be able to answer the questions I don't know."

Albus nodded, Tom twirled his wand in his fingers.

"Technically, I'm not supposed to answer students' questions straight out, but seeing as I'm currently not at Hogwarts..." said Albus, trailing off.

Harry rummaged through his trunk, finding his Charms book.

"A sheet of questions we have to look up over the summer," muttered Harry, pulling the sheet out.

He sat on his bed, and opened his Charms book. "Ah, look. I know this one! Define Gubraithian fire. Easy enough.."

He got a quill and some ink and began writing, speaking out loud with every word he wrote.

"Gubrathian--fire--is--also--called--everlasting--fire--because--it--lasts--as--long--as--one--desires. There. That should do. I hope."

"Are you required to write in complete sentences?" asked Albus. He had a shrewd idea why Harry would know what Gubrathian fire is, but decided not to comment while Tom was around.

"Yes, Professor Flitwick likes that," said Harry, looking at another question and flipping through his book.

There was silence for quite some time. Harry didn't need much help until he got to Potions, and ended up accidentally ripping one of the pages out of the book with frustration.

Finally, it was afternoon when Harry got finished, and Tom was complaining again.

"I'm hungry!"

So the three went back downstairs and Harry told him to find something himself.

Tom did just that and Albus and Harry ate a little something else. Aunt Petunia came inside the house around this time and began suspiciously staring at Albus.

"Err...Harry," whispered Albus out of the corner of his mouth. "Your Aunt's staring at me."

"She must find you attractive," joked Harry. "Alright, alright, just kidding," he added quickly, as Albus looked at him sharply. "Let's go back upstairs."

"I'm not done eating!" said Tom loudly.

"Then finish. We'll be upstairs, okay?" Albus said quietly.

Tom said nothing, he merely stuffed his face with more food. 'He's getting worse than Dudley,' thought Harry with a snort. 'He's got to have a high metabolism. Great, now I'm sounding like Aunt Petunia!'

Albus and Harry went upstairs, and as soon as Harry closed the door, Albus began speaking.

"Harry, I've been thinking about this spell lately," he said. "I'm sure you have been too. But time's running out, it's getting toward the middle of August."

"I've been worried about that too," said Harry quietly. "Surely we can figure it out before term starts?"

Albus said nothing for a few moments. "I've gotten no word on exactly how we can turn ourselves back, as you know. There's no telling how long it will take."

Harry fiddled absentmindedly with his bedsheet.

"Maybe there's a way that we can turn just you back," he whispered. "And keep Tom a sixteen-year-old."

"Tom wouldn't like that very much, would he?"

"But, I mean, you don't care! And neither do I! He's Lord Voldemort!"

"I know, Harry," he said heavily. "But this spell may require all those affected by it to be present and willing when we are turned back--"

The door opened, and Tom came in with a burp.

"Excuse you," said Harry, glaring.

Tom chose to ignore that comment.

For hours, everyone actually sat in silence, until Tom found a bouncy-ball and began bouncing it against Harry's bedroom door.

"I'm bored," he said.

"Welcome to my life at the Dursleys', Tom," Harry mumbled.

Tom shrugged. "I can see why you stay at Hogwarts on the holidays--"

"How'd you know I always stay at Hogwarts for the holidays?"

Tom gave a bark-like laugh. "You forget. I'm Lord Voldemort. I know everything."

"That's the cocky attitude that will be your downfall," snarled Harry.

"Downfall? There will be no downfall for me..."

Harry's teeth clenched and Albus gave him a look of warning.

"Nobody wants to argue with you today, Tom. So do us all a favor and bounce your stupid ball and keep your mouth shut," whispered Albus. It wasn't a threat, it was a statement. Albeit a very forceful statement.

Tom snarled but said nothing.

Harry was tired of Tom. He wished he could push him into the street and hope he got hit by a car...but no, that would be killing him, and this stupid spell may need everyone alive. He punched his pillow and threw it, hitting Tom in the head.

"What was that for?" he shouted.

"For being an idiot," he said bluntly.

Tom picked up the pillow and threw it at Harry, trying to hit him, but Harry caught it.

For a few minutes, Albus was relaxing in his chair and Harry was staring at the window, listening to Tom's bouncy-ball hit the door over and over again, when his Aunt called his name.

"Harry Potter! Get down here and clean up this mess!"

Harry, a bit bewildered as to what mess she was talking about, crossed over to the door, where Tom hit him in the back with that wretched bouncy-ball. Harry turned and made quite a rude hand gesture at him, involving a certain middle finger, and Tom blinked.

"No, thanks."

Harry winced. "Ugh, that's not what I was--" he shook his head, "--stupid, sick, nasty pervert..."

He slammed the door shut behind him, and Tom laughed.

"Shhh...trying to doze..." mumbled Albus, who had not seen the scene.

Tom raised an eyebrow at him and continued with his bouncy-ball.

Downstairs, Harry came and saw an angry Aunt Petunia and a table covered with wrappers of all kinds of food.

"Who did that?" he asked.

"What do you mean, 'who did that'?" she asked angrily. "One of you!"

"Tom," he muttered, shaking his head. "I'll clean it up," he sighed.

"Good. It better not happen again!"

"Right.."

She left and Harry began binning stuff, and it took him a good ten minutes to scrub the table from yogurt and other foods spilt upon it. 'That perverted freak,' he thought savagely. 'He's probably up there laughing his stupid head off...'

When he finished, he stomped upstairs and threw the door open. Tom was lying in a relaxed position in the floor, and Albus was still dozing. Harry walked over and stepped on Tom's stomach.

Tom coughed. "Watch where you're going--!"

"Shut up," snarled Harry. "You think it's funny to mess up the table? Huh? You think it's funny for me to clean it? Do you?"

Tom scratched his head and looked like he was seriously thinking about it.

Harry buried his face in his hands and shut the door, collapsing on the bed.

"Look, you hate me and I hate you. But please, don't mess up the table. It's a pain to clean, and Dudley goes and messes it up again."

Tom blinked. Did he just say 'please'? "Errr....fine then."

Albus had woken up from his doze when Tom cleared his throat.

"Are you finally getting along just a slight bit?" he asked.

"No," said Harry and Tom simultaneously.

Albus shrugged. He had some more dozing to catch up on. Why did he ask such a stupid question? Of course, the day Harry Potter and Voldemort got along would be the day Hell froze over.

Chapter five: Progress

The night was actually quiet for once, with no nightmares of salivating birds or dying godfathers that disturbed Harry's sleep. The next morning they ended up waking quite early (from going to bed early) and Tom opened his mouth from on the bed, where it was his turn to sleep.

"I know," said Harry exasperatedly. "You're hungry. Go get something yourself. But don't mess up the table."

Tom closed his mouth with a snap and stood to go downstairs.

Fawkes had been outside flying all night, and still hadn't returned. Albus wasn't worried about him. He had done that many times before. A bit bored himself, he stood and looked at all of the broken and unwanted toys on one side of Harry's room, and gave a gasp.

"Ten pin bowling!" he smiled. "I love it!"

It was a miniature bowling set, with ten little lime-green plastic pins, with a bright red plastic bowling ball. Albus opened the box and Harry watched, amused, as he began setting up the pins, a grin on his face. He stood back several feet and began bowling.

Harry didn't watch for very long. He got up from the floor and lay down on the bed, resting his head on the pillow and staring at the ceiling. Tom came inside and wanted to bowl with Albus. Albus reluctantly let him bowl and the two of them managed to play without argument for a while.

But Harry stared at the ceiling, completely aware that he was the only one in the room not having fun, and completely aware that he was being somewhat ignored, but not caring much.

For about thirty minutes, he stared at the ceiling, and Albus began watching him out of the corner of his eyes. He continued bowling, of course, but half of the time he was watching Harry.

'Here I am, bowling with Lord Voldemort, and there's a true sixteen year old, calmly staring at the ceiling. His soul is many years older than his body....he's seen way too much. Of course, the reason is standing right beside me...' he was thinking.

He felt a strong surge of anger toward Tom and dropped the bowling ball, sitting down at the desk.

"You can play with it," said Albus, trying to stay calm.

Harry wasn't paying any attention to what was going on. Tom shrugged and picked up the bowling ball.

"Harry?"

Harry looked over at Albus.

"You all right?"

Harry nodded and sat up. He got a bit carried away with staring at the ceiling, as he had done so many times at the Dursleys'.

SWOOSH.

A flurry of crimson and gold wings and flame appeared in the middle of the room and landed on the bed, singing. Tom groaned and covered his ears.

"Hello, Fawkes," said Albus, standing and walking over to Fawkes, taking the letter from the phoenix.

He stroked the regal bird's head and Fawkes flew on top of the wardrobe, intending to rest. Albus opened the letter and read it thoroughly, then sighed.

Harry frowned. "What's happened?"

"Well, we've found out exactly what you've cast upon us, and how we can be turned back. It turns out the spell Harry cast was actually illegal, and banned hundreds of years ago because the Ministry had so much trouble with people trying to make themselves younger permanently. But since Tom put up powerful wards around himself and Harry when he arrived, the spell was undetected by the Ministry when Harry cast it."

"I cast an illegal spell?" asked Harry, surprised.

"Yes. Somehow you said the correct incantation. It's a Permanent Aging Spell, turns people into the caster's age but the person keeps their old mind, memories, and mental abilities. Then they age and get older like any other person does. Their outer appearance just changes, but sometimes outer appearance affects the way people act. Especially when you turn into a teenager. I knew that...but...anyway, the only way to change us back is by, strangely enough, a potion called the...err...well, that's odd."

"What's odd?" pressed Tom, somewhat angrily.

"The name of this potion. I've never heard of it before."

Tom frowned. "Stop stalling and tell us already!"

"Phoenixflower Potion. I thought I've heard of every single flower in the world! I guess not."

"Well," whispered Harry. "The...err...Phoenixflower exists, doesn't it?"

"I'll get to that in a second. Anyway, it says here that the Phoenixflower Potion takes up to--oh no, I didn't read that part."

"What now?!" Tom practically yelled.

"It can take up to a month to make. The potion, apparently, gets ready whenever it feels like it. And it may take up to a month. That's not good at all...he put in information on the Phoenixflower, too. That was thoughtful of him, since I have no idea what it is..."

"What is so bad about this potion taking up to a month to make?" asked Tom.

"You thick-skulled prat," growled Harry. "In case you haven't noticed, this is around the middle of August. A month from now would be the middle of September. Hogwarts starts September first. Have you forgotten?"

Tom stared at him. "Oh yeah."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Does it say everyone affected by the caster's spell has to be turned back?"

Albus nodded.

Harry mentally cursed. "Well, what's it say about the Phoenixflower?" he asked, halfway uninterested.

"It's a very old species. It was created thousands of years ago in China, and it has been slowly dying out since then. While this Permanent Aging Spell was banned, there had to be a particularly strong ingredient to turn back so many people. The Phoenixflower, while extremely rare, was found to be a very strong ingredient in Potions. So they contacted the owners of the only known strand of Phoenixflowers in China, and the owners allowed some of their flowers to be used in the potion to change back everyone affected.

"You see, there was no known reversal of the Permanent Aging Spell, until a man experimented with Phoenixflowers and found that it worked. If there are any other ways, then they are no longer known."

"Get someone to go get some Phoenixflowers then," said Harry.

"There's the problem, Harry."

Harry felt his stomach sink. "Problem?"

"The Phoenixflower is an extinct species. There are none left."

Tom covered his face with his hands. "Great. That's just great."

Harry sighed, and Albus cleared his throat. "You didn't let me finish."

"More horrible news?" asked Tom, an eyebrow raised.

"No. Good news. The Phoenixflower can be created. They are short-lived flowers and they don't spread quickly, but they can be created. Apparently, planting a phoenix feather in the ground and watering a precise amount at a precise time can grow one in a week. They can't be grown in the shade."

"Fine," said Tom. "You have a phoenix, Albus. Pluck a feather from him and plant it!"

"Wait," interrupted Harry. "How come no one has began planting them again if they're extinct and that easy to recreate?"

"Because," said Albus, "they are terribly difficult to keep alive long enough for them to reproduce by themselves. A load of trouble for anyone. Have to be specially taken care of and if you mess up they die easy, so people nowadays, according to this letter, just create enough to do whatever they want to with it and they eventually die. Strange that it's called a Phoenixflower and easy to kill, when phoenixes are not."

"And by the way, we're not planting it here," added Albus, looking at Tom as if he were mental. "It is going to be planted at Hogwarts, where it can grow undisturbed and so they can begin the potion."

"By 'they', I'm assuming you mean Severus Snape?" asked Tom, smirking slightly.

No emotion crossed Albus's face but he stared at Tom. "Yes. I am talking about Severus Snape."

Harry knew why the room was suddenly tense. Although Snape was on the good side of this war, Voldemort (Tom) did not know that, and believed that Snape was actually on his side and spying on Dumbledore, when Snape was actually doing the reverse by spying on Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

"You know, Albus, the giants are joining me. You have figured that out, haven't you?" said Tom, now fully smirking.

Albus sat down and commanded Fawkes to go and burn the letter.

"Yes, Tom, I do realize that. Undoubtedly they will someday realize their mistake by joining you."

"And what about the dementors? You despise them, don't you? But they're quite useful."

"I do despise them. They are hideous creatures following a hideous Dark Lord. You may promise them powers but they won't be getting them."

Harry was listening in with much interest, wondering why they were suddenly discussing this.

Tom snarled. "How would you know anything of what I do? I do offer powers, for your information."

Albus shook his head, a small smile playing across his lips. "But you also lie."

Tom stood up.

"Sit down," spat Harry.

"No, you foolish little boy," said Tom. He sounded much more like Voldemort now. "Neither of you know nothing of true power."

Harry found himself getting angry. "Sit down, Tom," he repeated coolly. He sounded a lot like Dumbledore when he was at his normal age.

"Silence! This is not talk for children," he snarled.

"If I'm so much of a child, Tom, then how is it that you find it terribly difficult to kill me? Is it that much of a challenge?" he gave a bitter laugh. "Or have you forgotten all about 'true power', and have suddenly turned weak?"

Tom, now red-faced, was so furious that Albus thought he was going to explode. He charged at Harry, his fists flying. But Harry was ready as he stood up.

And suddenly, a quick-moving and angry battle between two furious teenagers broke out. Tom punched Harry in the face, but Harry returned his punch with one in the stomach. As Tom reflexively bent double, Harry kneed him in the face.

"YOU LITTLE TWIT!" shouted Tom, holding his painful nose. He kicked Harry in the shins and sat down on the bed, rubbing his nose.

And so that was it for now; it had ended as quickly as it had come. Harry was massaging the side of his jaw, and glaring at Tom. He then looked incredulously over at Albus. "I was expecting you to jump up and sort it out," he admitted.

Albus shrugged. "I decided not to intervene and let you sort out your problems."

"Can we get back on the subject of Phoenixflowers?" asked Tom angrily. The throbbing pain in his nose was driving him up the wall.

"What's there to talk about?" growled Harry. "Albus already said everything--"

"I KNOW!"

"Then why--?" he didn't bother finishing his question of why Tom wanted to talk about Phoenixflowers when the conversation was already thoroughly discussed, then had suddenly shouted that he knew the conversation was over. He shook his head and pointed a finger at his temple, twisting his finger in a circle, indicating Tom's insanity.

Tom had not noticed, but Albus did, and he smiled, nodding.

"Well, at least we have progress now," said Tom, trying to be civil for once. "We know what exactly was cast on Albus and I, and Harry and I officially hate each other and have no problem expressing it."

"I've noticed," said Albus, raising an eyebrow. "No doubt your opinions of each other will be the same a hundred years from now."

"He'll be dead by then," said Harry and Tom simultaneously. They glared at each other.

"No, you'll be dead!" they shouted together, both pointing a finger at the other.

"Oh, give it up," sighed Albus loudly. "How about I'll be dead by then. Does that quiet both of you?"

Tom grumbled something incoherent and searched for that dratted bouncy-ball. Harry frowned and sat down heavily.

"Albus gets to sleep on the bed tonight. It's his turn," said Harry firmly, before Tom could even think about trying to sleep on it.

"I know that," said Tom calmly. "You must really think I'm stupid."

Harry decided not to answer that one.

They spent hours in silence, Tom flipping through Harry's schoolbooks, Harry staring at the ceiling, and Albus bowling again. There was one thing on all of their minds: this spell, that potion and flower, and the start of term. It was after thinking about this very much that Harry spoke up.

"Let's hope this potion only takes two weeks to make," said Harry quietly. "Otherwise, a sixteen year old Voldemort and Headmaster will have to secretly go to Hogwarts."

"I'm not going to Hogwarts," Tom said flatly.

"I believe you are, Tom. That is, if the potion takes more than two weeks to make," said Albus.

"I am not staying at that school!!"

Albus turned around and looked at him. "You are staying at Hogwarts," he said firmly and a bit dangerously.

Tom sighed with frustration. "I'm not staying in the dormitories then."

"Oh no," said Albus. "I am not going to allow Lord Voldemort to sleep in the students' dormitories. You will have your own room. You will have to remain secret until the potion is fully created."

"How wonderful," he said sarcastically. "I can hardly wait. What about you?"

"My deputy headmistress will temporarily take over my position," said Albus. "But I will also have to remain in secret. Harry can continue with normal classes. By the way, Harry, you forgot to choose your N.E.W.T. classes."

Harry jumped slightly. "Oh yeah!"

Tom mimicked his voice and Harry ignored him.

He took his results out of the trunk, looked at the back of the piece of parchment, and began reading:

Please check the box beside each N.E.W.T. class you are interested in taking for your sixth and seventh years. Any classes failed at the O.W.L. level cannot be taken at the N.E.W.T. level.

Ancient Runes

Arithmancy

Astronomy

Care of Magical Creatures

Charms

Defense Against the Dark Arts

Divination

Herbology

History of Magic

Muggle Studies

Potions

Transfiguration


Harry checked off Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Potions, and Transfiguration.

He looked over at the window, where Hedwig had fluttered in with a frog in her beak. "Why haven't I gotten letters from Ron and Hermione since my birthday?" he thought, but realized he had actually voiced it out loud.

"Who's Ron and Hermione?" said Tom loudly. "Those friends of yours?"

Harry ignored him again. Albus turned to look at Harry. "We think one of the letters coming to you was intercepted. Ron's owl came back with it open, so we haven't risked anymore letters."

At this, Harry frowned again. He hated being kept in the dark, and even though Ron and Hermione's letters hardly said anything, it was still nice to see what was going on at Grimmauld Place.

"Hedwig, I need you to take this to Hogwarts," said Harry, putting the sheet back in the envelope and sealing it.

Hedwig hooted and finished her frog, then took Harry's letter and fluttered out of the window. Harry watched her go until she was a small speck in the distance, then looked down. Dudley's gang was looking up at him, laughing about something.

"Something funny?" he shouted down at them.

They walked away, still laughing.

Harry cursed quietly and slammed the window shut. Tom, much to Albus's annoyance, was singing in Parseltongue, waving his fingers around as if conducting music.

"It's a small world after all! It's a small world after all! It's a small world after all! It's a small, small, world--!!"

"Do you realize I can hear what you're saying?" said Harry loudly and in English.

Tom looked over at him. "Yes, I realize that. I didn't forget you were a Parselmouth...I prefer the excellent language of Parseltongue over the common English language at times. As a matter of fact, are there snakes around your house I can talk to?"

Harry looked at him suspiciously. "Why?"

"Because I want to," he said, annoyed.

"I doubt there are snakes around here," said Harry. "Aunt Petunia keeps all creatures ran off from her precious flower garden."

He scowled. There was nothing precious about Aunt Petunia's flower garden, of course. He had to pick weeds from it constantly, a painful (due to bending over so much) and boring task.

Tom did not mention talking with snakes anymore and they soon found themselves once again in silence. Fawkes was sleeping with his head under his wing on top of Harry's desk, Albus was looking somewhat longingly out of the window, Tom was on the floor, staring at the ceiling, and Harry was sitting on the bed, staring at his fingers.

It was then when he thought of Sirius. A horrible feeling settled in his stomach. He was sitting calmly in the room with the cause of Sirius's death lying in the floor. At this thought he felt so angry at Tom Riddle that he even angered himself to tears.

He wiped at them furiously, and stood up to walk toward the door, opening it.

"Where are you going?" asked Albus, turning to look at him.

"To get something to eat," he said, not letting his voice shake.

"Yes!" shouted Tom suddenly. "Yes...I want to come..."

"I'm quite hungry myself," said Albus quietly.

"Then come on," sighed Harry, walking down the stairs and shaking his head with annoyance. The Dursleys', for once in a lifetime, were outside doing something. No doubt conversing with Dudley's gang and asking ridiculous and nosy questions.

They all three sat down at the table to eat their sandwiches, watching each other out of the corner of their eyes. Harry really wasn't that hungry, he had just wanted to get out so that he could get away from Tom, but of course, at the mention of food, Tom had to follow.

A week passed and it was soon the twenty-ninth of August. Mrs. Weasley had gotten a copy of Harry's booklist and had bought everything for him on it with the money from Harry's bank at Gringotts'. He wondered what she had thought when she had opened it, seeing so much money...perhaps she even wondered why he hadn't shared it with them...he felt slightly guilty again at the thought of it...

She had sent all of the supplies via Fawkes, who had volunteered to take Harry's things to him. Harry's booklist had arrived after he sent in his N.E.W.T. courses, and something else had come along with it. It was a badge; namely a Quidditch Captain badge.

Tom didn't like Quidditch much, and really didn't care about Harry's badge, but Albus was happy for him.

"Of course, you now have quite a bit of seniority over the other members. If you're wondering about your broom, it is at Hogwarts and in my office," he had said.

Harry smiled. He now had a badge to wear around on his robes...he didn't look quite as out of place when walking around with Hermione and Ron and their badges. Of course, they were chosen as the sixth year Prefects, and Ginny and Colin Creevey were chosen as the fifth year Prefects, according to Albus.

While Harry and Albus discussed how they were getting to Hogwarts, Tom sat on the bed, scowling deeply. He obviously didn't want to return to Hogwarts...

"We're taking a Portkey," said Albus. "Straight to my office. There you can get your broomstick, and I will show Tom to his room, then you can go to the Great Hall. I will have to talk to Professor McGonagall."

Harry did not ask why. He figured it had to do with serious Order business. Albus looked over at Tom. "You'll be happy to hear, Tom, that the potion is brewing, and all we have to do is wait until it decides to be ready."

"That is good news, don't think I'm not glad to realize I'll be out of the company of Albus Dumbledore and the ever-so aggressive Harry Potter."

"You think what I've been acting like is aggressive?" asked Harry, raising an eyebrow. "I can get tons more aggressive."

"No, thanks," said Tom, rolling his eyes. "For the first time, I can't wait to get away from you."

Harry grinned.

As Tom lay down on the bed, he thought about how much he had learned about Harry from his time of living with him. Harry was a person with a temper that stayed quiet and gradually built up to enormous levels, then burst out on days when he's angry like a raging hurricane.

Harry was a strange person, Tom decided. He'd be funny sometimes, witty, and in a good mood, then there would be days where he was positively angry and evil. There was definately a dark, moody, and mysterious side to Harry Potter. But his light side outweighed it, and he had never really shown any interest in unleashing that bit of darkness.

Oh yes, Tom had learned much about Harry Potter, but had only learned small and personal things about him, like what he liked to eat, how he reacted to nightmares, how long he slept, what made him mad. He also knew that the Boy Who Lived had a bad habit of staring at the ceiling and the window for numerous hours.

He had even learned the different colors of underwear Harry had. Yes, quite disturbing, but true. It wasn't really information Lord Voldemort needed, but oh well.

Living the summer with Harry Potter was truly a learning experience that Voldemort would never forget.
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter six: Hogwarts

The morning of September first, Albus woke with a start as if he had been smacked in the face. A smile devolping on his face, he sat up from on the floor and looked over at the sleeping form of Harry on the bed. On the other side of the bed, on the floor, slept Tom. He was snoring softly.

Albus stood and shook Harry. "Wake up!" he said loudly, grinning happily. Harry shifted positions and slapped at the air. "G'way."

Albus shook Harry again, then proceeded to roll him across the bed. "Stop," Harry mumbled, then tumbled off the other side of the bed, right on top of Tom, who let out a loud grunt. "What's--? Hey!!"

Harry opened his eyes and looked at the blurry form of a wide-awake Tom, then looked at Albus, who was chuckling.

"Do you mind?" snapped Tom at Harry. "You're sitting on me."

Harry blinked. "How'd I fall off the bed? I never do that!"

Albus smiled innocently. "Today we're going to school!" he announced happily and childishly, like a five-year-old would say on their first day of school.

"At six o'clock in the morning!?" barked Tom.

"Yes," said Albus, frowning. "There's nothing wrong with getting up at six in the morning."

"I can think of a lot of wrong reasons," growled Tom, throwing his covers off and glaring at a shrugging Albus.

"Keep those to yourself," said Harry, finding his glasses in the floor. "Then tell someone who cares."

"Shut up. I'm not a morning person, okay?"

Harry ignored him.

"Could you get off me?" said Tom, annoyed at Harry's lack of response and realizing Harry felt heavier than he looked.

Harry stood and walked over to his already-packed trunk, making sure it was still locked. Albus and Tom gathered their wizards' robes and their wands, when a flash of flame made Tom jump.

"Stupid bird!!" he said loudly. Fawkes glared at him.

Harry and Albus were used to the phoenix's presence and his appearances by fire, but Tom despised it greatly. "If it were my way, I'd fry that stupid chicken," he'd always say, much to Albus's annoyance. But Harry always wondered how exactly you could fry a phoenix, for they're always associated with fire.

They all three realized that Fawkes had a small object clutched in his claws. Albus bounded forward and took it from him, then sat it on the bed. Exposed, Harry realized it was a small, cracked, drinking glass.

"What's that for?" asked Harry, eyeing it.

"It's a Portkey, you prat," said Tom.

"Thank you very much," snarled Harry.

"Well, you asked," Tom grinned over at him and Harry rolled his eyes. Albus glanced up at them then looked back down at the Portkey. "Everyone get your things," he said. "This portkey sets off in exactly two minutes, starting now. Harry, you might want to hurry and tell your relatives you're leaving."

Harry ran out the door immediately.

Albus looked over at Hedwig. "Hedwig," he said. "Harry will be at Hogwarts. Fly there."

Hedwig tilted her head to the side slightly before bobbing her head and hopping toward the window, where she swiftly fluttered out of it with a soft hoot. Albus picked up Hedwig's cage and held it, picking up the Portkey with his other hand.

"Go ahead and put a finger on it, Tom," said Albus, "he'll be back up here in a second."

Harry did arrive in a matter of seconds, where he looked around quickly, shut his window, and grabbed his trunk, then put a finger on the Portkey. "Exactly thirty seconds," muttered Albus. "Get ready."

It seemed much longer than thirty seconds, as they all stood there in a tight circle, touching the cracked glass and staring at it.

Just as Harry looked up at Albus, he felt a jerk behind his navel and saw the world spinning in many colors before him, Tom and Albus bumping along beside him.

Their feet slammed to the ground hard, and Tom fell upon Harry, who hit something very hard and wooden.

"You're terribly uncoordinated," sighed Harry as he rubbed his head and Tom got off him. He realized they had landed in Albus's office, and he had hit his head on Albus's desk. Upon standing up, he looked behind him to see a wary Professor McGonagall carefully eyeing Tom.

"Hi, Professor," said Harry quietly. The room had suddenly gone very silent.

"Hello, Potter," she whispered back, avoiding Tom's eyes, so looking straight at Albus.

"Albus?" she asked, her brow furrowed. "Is that you?"

"Indeed, Minerva," said Albus. "As you can see, I've turned considerably younger."

"I'll say," she managed to smile. Out of the corner of her eyes, however, she was watching Tom look curiously around the room.

"Hadn't been here in years," he muttered, looking at all of the portraits. One of them, Headmaster Dippet, looked down incredulously at Tom.

"My word," he gasped. "If it isn'tTom Riddle!"

"Errr...yes," he muttered. "I mean, no. Oh, whatever. Albus, where's my room so I can get out of this damned office of yours?"

Albus looked slightly aggrivated. "Well, Minerva, please stay here. I will show Tom to his room and return here to talk to you. Harry, you can follow along."

McGonagall nodded and the three teenagers walked out of the office. Tom looked around all of the halls as they walked up to the third floor. "I had forgotten all about this school," he said. "I've never felt as strange as I do now."

"Would that feeling be..err...recognition?" asked Albus with a raised eyebrow as they stood in front of a bare spot in the wall, with portraits surrounding it.

Tom shrugged. "Why did we stop?"

"Because we are at your room."

Tom stared at him. "What?"

"I guess there's a secret entranceway then," said Harry. "What, do you have to have a password?"

"Precisely," said Albus, facing the wall. "A doorway, please."

The bare spot on the wall glowed gold and as the shimmer disappeared, a wooden door with a golden knob appeared in its place.

Harry looked midly surprised. "Yet another secret inside Hogwarts," he said. "Is that the password? 'A doorway, please'?"

Albus nodded and opened the door, holding it open for the other two. They walked inside and into a large and cozy room. A bed was in a corner, a small table beside it. There was a window, a desk, and two armchairs, with a bigger table in front of them. There was a door on the left wall, and another one beside it.

"That door leads to your bathroom," said Albus, pointing at the first door. "The second door is your closet. That big table in front of the armchairs is where your food will appear. Now, whatever is being served in the Great Hall will also appear here at the same time. If you find yourself hungry or thirsty whenever meals aren't being served, you simply tap the table with your wand and say what you want."

Tom nodded. "No fireplace in here?"

Albus smiled slightly. "No, because you'd Floo away, or Floo someone else here."

"I hate that you're so smart," sighed Tom. "What if I want to get out and stretch my legs a bit?"

"I don't think that would be such a good idea," said Albus. "A few students may recognize you."

Tom rolled his eyes. "No one here knows what Tom Riddle looks like."

"Ginny Weasley does," pointed Harry.

Tom ignored him and sat down on his bed, which happened to be very comfortable. "This bed feels a lot better than yours," he said to Harry.

"Any bed does," Harry said.

"Well, I must be off to talk to Minerva," said Albus. "Harry, you can come up to office and get your things, then go ahead and put them in your dormitory."

And so he and Harry left, leaving Tom by himself, staring at the clock, which read 6:30.

"A perfect time to catch up on sleep," he muttered, taking off his shoes and relaxing lazily on the bed.


------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry was on his way to Gryffindor Tower, a lot of things on his mind. The quiet castle left him to wonder about everything uninterrupted.

He wondered about whether people would want him to continue D.A. meetings, wondered who the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was, and worried mostly about Tom.

It wasn't Tom's well-being that Harry was afraid of. It was that Tom Riddle was still Lord Voldemort, and one of the two most powerful wizards in the world, and would now be staying at his school with all of his friends and teachers. For some reason, it worried him more than Tom sleeping in his own bedroom.

He reached the portrait to Gryffindor Tower sooner than he had expected, and the Fat Lady looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. "Password?"

"Err...I dunno," said Harry, mentally cursing himself for not asking Albus the password.

"How did you get here so early? And why?" she sighed.

"Must you interrogate me?" asked Harry, annoyed. "Look, Albu--uh--Dumbledore's just--err--I mean--"

He growled. "What I'm trying to say is that I've arrived here early on special circumstances and had no idea that passwords would already be issued this early."

She stared at him hard. "Very well," she finally mumbled. "I'll let you in this one time...but no more without a password!"

Harry nodded and she opened up for him. He smelt the familiar scent of the common room, and inhaled it happily, walking toward the stairs up to the dormitories. He felt a sudden surge of excitement for tonight, when he'd see his friends and the new teacher.

He collapsed on his comfortable bed for a short nap, smiling to himself.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was soon evening, and Harry was eagerly wandering the school to try and burn off his excited energy. When he reached the third floor, he paused in the middle of one of the corridors, looking to his right at the bare space of wall between two portraits. With a grin, he approached the wall.

"A doorway, please."

The door he had seen this morning appeared, the brass knob twinkling from the light of the torches on the wall. He rapped his knuckles upon it smartly.

"Albus?" came a terribly annoyed voice. "Is that you again, damn it?"

Harry snorted. "Uh, no. It's Harry."

"What do you want?" he snapped.

"What's gotten into you?" he said loudly as he opened the door without Tom's permission. He walked in to see Tom in one of his chairs, looking a bit bloated with his hands on his stomach, and the table covered with food and crumbs that were either wholly or partially eaten.

"Couldn't wait for the feast?" asked Harry, biting his bottom lip to prevent himself from laughing.

"What do you want?" Tom repeated irritably, belching loudly then sighing. "That felt better."

"I'll take it you weren't this constantly hungry back in your Dark Lord days."

Tom sat up. "Spit it out already! I haven't got time to listen to your rambling. You know, I can hex you since we're at Hogwarts."

"I wish you'd quit acting like a--a--nevermind. I just wanted to stop by. Do you have any idea what the Gryffindor password is?" he asked stupidly.

"That's a stupid question--"

"I know, I just realized that right after I asked it," Harry said quickly, turning toward the door. "Anyway, I'll leave you with your...err...obsession, and don't get constipated."

Tom snarled, brandishing a chicken leg at him warningly. "I am not obsessed with food. And I don't get constipated."

"That's what you say now," said Harry, putting a hand on the doorknob. "I won't talk to you later."

"Good," growled Tom.

"Grouchy git," he muttered as he walked out of Tom's room, slamming the door behind him just because he could.

But Tom's sourness did not ruin his fairly good mood, and he pranced (A/N: Okay, no, he didn't prance) down to the Great Hall, where the teachers all sat (minus Albus). No one sat in Dumbledore's usual chair, McGonagall was sitting beside it in her usual seat.

At first, Harry did not notice a new figure sitting beside Hagrid, but then his jaw dropped. Kingsley? Kingsley was teaching here?

He walked up quickly to the staff table, where many of the teachers greeted him (Professor Snape did not, he spent his time ignoring him) and he looked up at Kingsley.

"I heard you spent a whole summer with the Dark Lord," said Kingsley in his very deep voice, winking at him.

"Oh yeah," laughed Harry. "It was certainly something I never want to go through again. What are you doing here, Kingsley?"

"Well, now I'm officially called Professor Shacklebolt," said Kingsley. "If that's a good enough clue."

"So you are the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" he asked, grinning.

"I'd tell you to wait until the feast to find out, but since you're here quite a bit earlier.....yes, I am."

Harry grinned again.

"The carriages should be pulling up," said McGonagall, looking at what looked to Harry like a wristwatch. "I guess I should retreive the first years."

She stood and exited the hall. After telling Kingsley that he'd see him later, he followed her out but instead he went into the Entrance Hall and out toward where the carriages were pulling up to the school. His smile vanished as his eyes clapped upon the animals pulling them.

The thestrals.

A chill went down his spine as he saw them, they reminded him of flying to the Department of Mysteries, and the Department of Mysteries reminded him of...

He turned away and looked the other direction, several emotions plaguing him at the same time. It wasn't until a large rush of students engulfed him did he turn around, determinedly keeping his eyes on the faces of the students.

"Harry!"

Harry turned toward his left, where a tall red-headed boy was waving his hand in the air. "Over here!"

He made his way toward Ron with difficulty. When he reached him, the first thing he noticed was the Prefect badge on his robes. Ron flushed slightly, noticing him looking at it.

"I....errr...dunno how I got it again," he explained, shrugging. "Have you seen--?"

"Hermione? No, I was just about to ask you. I need to talk to you both about something."

Ron looked at him with slight alarm. "What's wrong, mate?"

"Wrong?" repeated Harry. "Well, I suppose it's quite wrong, but no need to panic."

Ron merely stared at him, and a bushy-haired girl came up beside them.

"Hello, Harry!!" she exclaimed, smiling. "I'm so sorry we couldn't send you letters, Pig got in some trouble, we think he was intercepted."

"So I heard," said Harry. "That's alright, I've been kind of...errr...busy with everything this summer."

"Are your relatives working you hard again, Harry?" she said, crossing her arms.

"No, no," said Harry quickly. "It's something else. Look, let's go somewhere, I need to tell you something."

"But the feast's about to start!" shrieked Hermione. The Entrance Hall was now almost empty except for themselves and a few last-minute people.

"This is a bit more important than the feast, I think."

"But I want to see who the new teacher is for Defense Against the Dark Arts!" said Ron.

"It's Kingsley," answered Harry. "We can come back later for food, I need to talk to you two."

Hermione sighed. "If it can't wait, then fine. Ron and I have a Prefects meeting after the feast though."

She gestured at the badge on her chest.

"Alright, come on," said Harry, beginning to walk away, them following along.

He led them into one of the old classrooms and they all sat down.

"Okay, I'll get right to the point," began Harry, sitting on top of a dusty desk.

"Over the summer, Voldemort came to the park near my house and tried to kill me." He held up a hand as Hermione gasped. "Hang on. But Dumbledore Apparated there and the two of them started dueling. But one of Voldemort's curses went off course and headed toward me, so I tried to defend myself."

They were staring at him, listening intently.

"I don't know exactly what I yelled, but the spell hit Voldemort then ricocheted and hit Dumbledore, then the next thing I knew, a whole bunch of mist had came and cleared then Dumbledore and Voldemort had been turned into sixteen year olds."

"What?" Ron practically shouted. "You turned them into teenagers?!"

"Yeah. Accidentally, though!! Anyway, it turns out that the spell I put on them is actually a permanent Aging Spell and is also illegal. But since Voldemort put up temporary and powerful wards around the park, the spell wasn't detected. So...well...Tom Riddle and Albus Dumbledore had to live with me until this morning, when we came here."

"Oh, no, Harry! They've been turned back, haven't they?" said Hermione, her eyes widening.

"Err...no. Only a potion can turn them back. It's called the Phoenixflower Potion..."

He continued to explain about the spell, the potion, and managed to throw in a few details of his interesting summer in the company of his headmaster and a Dark Lord.

"Well, who's the Headmaster right now?" asked Ron when Harry had finished.

"Headmistress," corrected Harry. "McGonagall."

"Oh yeah...so all the teachers know about this?"

"Apparently," sighed Harry. "I think the feast is about over," he muttered, jumping off his desk.

He looked out of the door.

"Yeah, McGonagall's saying a few words...just the normal routine," he said.

He beckoned for Ron and Hermione to follow him as he quietly opened the door and walked out. They followed him and they soon found themselves in the middle of a crowd of sleepy students ready to go to bed.

"I'm not that hungry," said Harry truthfully. "So you and Hermione can go down to the kitchens if you like, I don't think the house-elves will mind too much about getting you something."

Hermione huffed something and Harry ignored her. He had had a whole summer spent with a very ill Tom Riddle and had learned to ignore anyone who disagreed with him.

But Ron and Hermione did go down to the kitchen, leaving Harry to go by himself up to his dormitory, where Neville, Dean, and Seamus were changing clothes.

"Hey, Harry," said Dean. "How'd the summer go?"

Harry grinned. "Well, it was kind of weird and went by quite fast, but otherwise all right. How about yours?"

"All right," he shrugged. "Seamus got an owl but one of his neighbors shot it before it could deliver a letter."

Seamus nodded. "Me mam went mad, that owl was expensive."

"I can understand," said Harry, changing his own clothes and climbing into bed. "You're awefully quiet, Neville."

Neville looked over at him. "Just tired," he mumbled. "Ready to go to sleep. Why weren't you at the feast?"

Harry racked his brain for excuses. "Didn't feel like it, and I wasn't too hungry. I didn't feel like I could sit through the sorting." This was halfway true, and Neville bought it.

"Yeah, it gets kind of boring sometimes," he agreed. "G'night."

"Night," said Harry.

Dean and Seamus stopped their own chatting and Harry settled down in his bed.

"Where's Ron?" whispered Dean.

"In the kitchens," said Harry quietly. "Nicking some food, he didn't go to the feast either."

"Oh."

And so the room fell silent. It wasn't until about an hour later that Ron finally came in, and everyone was asleep except for Harry, who decided he'd keep quiet unless he was spoken to.

"You awake, Harry?" Ron whispered.

"Yeah," muttered Harry. "What took you two so long?"

"Told you I was hungry," he said.

Harry yawned. "Got a pretty long day tomorrow, Ron," he said. "Guess we should go to sleep."

"Right."

And soon, they all had fallen into a peaceful sleep, luckily nightmareless for Harry.


------------------------------------------------------------------------

The following day, the trio sat in the Great Hall for breakfast, discussing O.W.L.'s.

"What did you get?" asked Ron to Harry eagerly.

"Err..let me see," he screwed his eyes up, trying to think, "A, O, E, O, D, E, O,O."

"Bloody hell," muttered Ron as Hermione congratulated Harry. "How did you get such good grades?"

Harry shrugged. "But I got an O in Potions--"

"YOU WHAT?"

"Keep your voice down!" snapped Hermione. "People are staring at you!"

Ron flushed slightly. "You got an O in Potions? I got an Acceptable!"

"I got an O as well," said Hermione proudly. "As well as in every class. Except Astronomy. Got an Exceeds Expectations in that."

"Big surprise, eh?" muttered Ron, snickering.

Harry grinned. "Yeah. Ron, what all did you get?"

"I got an A in Potions, as you know. An O in Defense Against the Dark Arts, an E in Charms and Transfiguration, and well, I also got a D in Divination. And a P in History of Magic, an A in Astronomy, an O in Care of Magical Creatures, and an E in Herbology. I don't know how I got that. Anyway, not that good."

"Nah, you got seven out of nine," said Harry. "I only got one more than you."

"When are Quidditch tryouts?" asked Ron, wanting to change the subject.

"This next weekend," said Harry, looking carefully at Ron. "You're still on the team, you know."

"Err...I am?" he said timidly.

"That's right, you're still the Keeper, I'm the returning Seeker, and hopefully Ginny will try out for Chaser like she wanted to. I just have to find one more chaser and the beaters. I'm getting rid of Kirke and Sloper."

"I forgot you were Quidditch Captain," he admitted, slightly embarrassed, for Harry had on the Quidditch Captain badge.

"Well, ready for N.E.W.T. classes?" asked Harry.

Ron opened his mouth to answer when the doors opened and there stood Tom Riddle, a small grin on his face.

"I just had to stretch my legs," he said loudly, but not everyone noticed him.

However, Ginny jumped up and screamed, and Harry jumped up as well, swearing.

"Ginny!" he said sharply. "Listen, sit down, he's--"

But she screamed again. "Sit down!" yelled Ron.

He and Hermione went to calm her down, and by that time, everyone was staring at them. Tom grinned even wider.

"My, my," he said, chuckling with amusement.

Harry rolled his eyes and slammed his spoon on the table, stomping toward Tom angrily.

'Stupid idiot,' he thought savagely. 'Trying to get himself in a whole lot of trouble, isn't he?'

Harry grabbed Tom's arm and spun him around roughly, marching him out of the Great Hall, where he slammed the doors behind him and started dragging Tom toward his room.

"Are you bloody stupid?" said Harry in a hushed voice. "What do you think you're doing? Risking a little jaunt? Do you want to get killed, huh?"

Tom raised an eyebrow at him. "You're making a really big deal out of this."

"Actually, no, I'm not," he snapped. "You're making stupid decisions. If Albus found out that you marched into the Great Hall, he'll be angrier than--"

"Pssshh," he said, waving an indifferent hand in front of him. "Albus wouldn't touch me."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, we'll see about that. Now that Ginny Weasley knows you're in this school, there's a one hundred percent chance that Albus is going to find out about it, because she's gonna want an explanation, and I don't feel like describing it again."

"Then don't!" he said irritably, jerking his arm away from Harry. "Let her live with it!"

"Git," he growled quietly. "Get in your room, you dumb prat...A doorway, please."

The door appeared and Harry opened it, thrusting Tom inside the room.

"Get it through your head now," said Harry, sighing and calming down slightly. "You're not supposed to come out of your room. Later."

He slammed the door in Tom's snarling face and put a Colloportus on the door, even though he knew perfectly well Lord Voldemort could get past the door even with the charm.

So Ginny Weasley was now scared to death that her nightmare had walked through the Great Hall, and Albus Dumbledore was overwhelmed with her gibbering and shouts as she sat upstairs in his office, staring at the sixteen year old former Headmaster with Ron and Hermione beside her.

So the first day started out really wonderful. Yeah, right.

Chapter seven: Awaiting

Unfortunately, the next day at Hogwarts wasn't much better. For some reason, Ginny was furious with Harry, and every time he tried to ask her why, she'd completely ignore him, but she was always muttering on how to hex Tom.

'Girls are so weird!' he'd think every time.

Snape wasn't very happy with Harry as well. He did not vanish Harry's potion like he did all last year, instead he'd shake his head at it and spit out a rude comment, threatening to send Harry to McGonagall if he 'didn't stop his nonsense'. But Harry couldn't figure out just what nonsense he was doing, so Potions class was a bit puzzling at times.

During the afternoon, Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Neville were all sitting beside each other at lunch. It was quiet until Neville piped up a question.

"Hey, Harry," he said, leaning over. Seamus and Dean from nearby stopped chewing so they could listen in nosily. "Are you still doing D.A. this year?"

Harry had completely forgotten all about it. He had to think fast..

"Er...well, since we actually have a good teacher I don't think it's really necessary, you know--?"

"But, hey!" said Seamus, his mouth full of food. "I still want to know how to do stuff!"

"I'm sorry, Seamus, but...Kin--err..Professor Shacklebolt is a good guy, he'll be a great teacher, I promise. You won't need me by the time we're done with his classes."

After much discussion on this topic, Seamus and Dean unconsciously broke off into another topic and Harry turned to Ron and Hermione.

"Did I just do the right thing?" he asked uncertainly.

"I think you did," said Hermione. "You're right about Kingsley. He'll be a good teacher."

"Even though we'll miss having it," added Ron.

Harry shrugged. "I have a feeling we're going to be quite busy this year anyway."

They both nodded.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

As they headed for N.E.W.T. Defense Against the Dark Arts, Kingsley was standing beside the entrance of the classroom, and he winked at them as they walked in. The class immediately fell silent as Kingsley closed the door. After all, they hadn't spent much time with him...

"Good afternoon, class," he said in his deep voice. "As I explained yesterday, I am Professor Shacklebolt, your new Defense teacher, obviously. This is my first experience teaching, so I'm not very good at it, but I'll try as hard as I can to meet Dumbledore's expectations. Yes?" he said as Parvati Patil raised her hand.

"What exactly happened to Professor Dumbledore?" she asked curiously.

Kingsley paused. "He currently has an issue to deal with, and is unable--temporarily--to be Headmaster. As for the exact reason, I'm sorry, I cannot disclose that information."

She sighed and leaned back in her chair with a slightly wilted appearance.

"You will be happy to hear that I am not a very firm believer of bookwork, so we will have more hands-on teaching instead of copying down words. Don't get me wrong, we'll have it every once in a while, but rarely. I would have explained this yesterday, hadn't things been a bit hectic."

The class whispered to each other.

"But for today, I'm going to ask you to copy down the rules on the board, and I'll go over them. Tomorrow will be much better, no copying from boards and books."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione smiled. Oh yes, Defense Against the Dark Arts would be much more fun this year.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the end of a busy second day, the trio was heading back toward the common room when Draco Malfoy came around the corner and almost ran directly into them.

"Idiots aren't allowed to walk on this hallway," he spat loudly.

"Then I guess you better find a different route," snarled Harry, walking past him.

"Excuse me," laughed Ron, running completely into Malfoy and then walking around him as if he had accidentally ran into an unimportant and insignificant object.

Malfoy was becoming steadily more red-faced as Hermione came up towards him.

"I won't comment," she said, proceeding to walk around him and run after the boys.

They all laughed as they walked around the corner.

"That was excellent!" commented Ron. "It's about time we've made him speechless!"

Hermione was smiling.

Harry opened his mouth to say something when he heard voices down a different hallway.

"Honestly, Albus, you think I'm actually going to stay in there?"

He immediately recognized the voice. Tom.

"I don't want to keep you up like a dog in a kennel," said Albus, but by the sound of his voice, it sounded quite appealing to him to keep Tom in a dog kennel. "But you're going to have to stop this wandering."

Ron and Hermione looked at Harry, who was rolling his eyes.

"Is that...Dumbledore and Tom?" asked Hermione quietly.

"Certainly is," said Harry with a sigh. "Tom seems to have escaped again. Come on, let's go up to the common room."

"I want to see what they're talking about!!!" whispered Ron excitedly.

Harry frowned slightly. "They're going to come around this corner and run into us."

"About like Malfoy," muttered Ron. "Okay, let's go."

They hurried down a different corridor.

"Lucius Malfoy came up here today," said Albus, his hand tight around Tom's arm as they took a detour toward Tom's room, passing the corner the trio had been standing at.

"Oh really?" he said, not sounding very surprised. "For what reason, I wonder?"

"Undoubtedly looking for a way to talk to you," Albus hissed, "and it is not going to happen in this school, under any circumstances."

"I didn't realize you were in charge of my talking privileges--"

"Don't be ridiculous, Tom," he interrupted, "I know you contacted him. I know you intentionally brought him up here. He said he wanted to talk to Severus about his son but in reality, he wanted to find you. Is this another cunning plan to capture Harry?"

"Now you're being ridiculous," he said angrily. "I'm not going to kill Harry at Hogwarts, it's way too risky. Plus, there's you, and even though both of us are stuck in damned sixteen year old bodies, it's too big of an issue."

They stopped after coming right outside the wall where Tom's room was.

"A doorway, please," said Albus, slightly frustrated. "I do not want to see Lucius Malfoy on these grounds while you are here again. Especially coming without my knowledge. I'm going to charm the door. With what, you wouldn't know, I made it up. People can come in and out, but not you. Only until the potion is ready will you be allowed to come out of it."

He pushed Tom inside, but not too hard.

"Goodbye, Tom Riddle," he said, closing the door and placing the charm upon it.

Inside his room, Tom shook his head. "He's worse than Harry."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were doing some Transfiguration work in the common room about an hour later when the Transfiguration professor herself walked in.

"Potter!" called Professor McGonagall.

Harry stood up from over behind a chair and looked at her. "Right here."

She looked over at him and beckoned for him to come to her.

Harry looked over at Ron and Hermione, who looked just as puzzled as he did. When he reached her, she told him to follow her and walked out of the portrait hole.

"Professor Dumbledore wants to see you," she said, her expression indecipherable.

"What for, Professor?" he asked, concerned.

"I believe it is about Tom Riddle," she said, saying the name with particular disgust.

Harry nodded and they made their way toward Dumbledore's office, not saying a word to each other.

"Now, Potter," said McGonagall. "He's just up there, the password is...it's something strange...err...oh! Feathered flipping flamingos."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Fleath--I mean--feathered flipping flamingos."

He grinned. "Let me guess. Alb--sorry, Professor Dumbledore chose your password even if he's not actually the Head of the school right now?"

"I don't see how you guessed, Potter," she said, obviously joking, but trying to be serious at the same time. She walked away at a brisk pace, her robes flapping behind her.

"Feathered flipping flamingos," Harry sighed.

The gargoyle jumped aside and Harry mounted the moving staircase, which took him up to the door, upon which he knocked.

"Come on in, I've been expecting you," said Albus's teenage voice.

Harry walked in, and among catching sight of the office in its reinstated cleanliness, he frowned and froze in his footsteps.

The memories of the last time he was in this office came to him so quickly that he felt lightheaded. A feeling of sorrow weighed him down so much he quickly took a seat and looked to his left where that spindly table sat with its trinkets, which were now working properly.

He did not notice Albus watching him closely, sitting in his normal chair, which didn't seem to have quite the impressive effect it used to when he was older. He dare not say anything this very second, he knew Harry was reliving the night of his godfather's death.

Harry looked up at the portraits on the wall. Phineas Nigellus sat in his frame, looking back at him quietly.

And the Boy Who Lived's eyes turned to Albus.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Sorry?" repeated Albus, his eyebrows knitted with puzzlement. "For ever what, Harry?"

"I'm sorry for smashing your office to pieces, a few months ago."

Albus leaned back in his chair and smiled. "Harry, you know as well as I that your emotions were at their highest that night."

"But that's no excuse for me to wreck your things," said Harry bluntly.

"I was never angry with you for it, Harry, everything was replaced as soon as possible and my office has been restored to its original state."

Harry nodded. "To change the subject so I won't get..err...emotional or anything, you called me up here?"

"Yes, and I'm sorry to interrupt your homework time."

"Ah, I don't care much, I'm not much up to doing homework lately anyway."

"I just wanted to talk to you about Tom. He's becoming extremely difficult to keep enclosed, I'm sure you've noticed," said Albus. "I thought he'd act better here than he did at the Dursleys'."

"I guess that as soon as he got back to the Wizarding world, he felt a bit more....daring," said Harry, shrugging. "And he has a pair of my underwear, I've just realized, I'll be getting those back shortly."

His eyes narrowed at the thought of Tom stealing his underwear.

Albus smiled. "Mine are extremely faded, after being washed time after time. Luckily I've come home to have hundreds of more pairs."

"They were washed a lot. I couldn't leave them in the dryer, Dudley would steal them--"

"We're getting off subject," said Albus, laughing. "I just wanted to tell you that if you ever see Tom doing anything suspicious or out of his room, tell me and throw him back in there. I've put a charm on the door, but I don't see it lasting very long, I'm only a teenager right now..."

He sighed. "It was good while it lasted, but I long for my old age, and my old life. Reliving teenage life is too hormonal for me, I think. I don't believe I'll ever ask to be young again. It's taught me a lesson." He grinned at Harry.

"Well, I'm glad you got something out of it," he said. "Yeah, sure, I'll keep an eye on Tom, I'm going over there after I leave here so I can get my underwear back."

"Good luck on that, Harry," he said, standing. "And don't forget, Hagrid has wondered about you visiting..."

"Oh! How could I forget?!" he exclaimed stupidly. "Well, Albus, I best be going, I'll talk to you later then," he said, standing.

"Goodbye, Harry."

"Bye."

He walked out and looked at his watch. It was around eight o' clock, he had an hour or two until curfew. In that time he'd regain his underwear, gather Ron and Hermione, and go visit Hagrid.

Walking quickly, he came to Tom's room and whispered the password, and the door appeared. He knocked for only a second before coming in, his eyes wandering the room.

"Anybody here?" he said to an empty room.

He closed the door behind him and out of nowhere, the bathroom door burst open and Harry pulled out his wand as a reflex.

Tom had come out and was looking at Harry, who had his wand in his face.

"Didn't the Dursleys teach you manners?" he said, glaring at him. "It's rude to point wands."

Harry lowered his wand and tucked it in his robes and snorted. "The Dursleys? Teach me wand manners? You just startled me."

"I see that," said Tom. "Now what exactly are you doing in my room?"

"I have come to repossess my green underwear."

"Repossess, eh?" Tom said, amused. "I didn't know you knew such big words--"

"Come on, Tom," snapped Harry waspishly. "Give me my underwear and I'll leave."

"Why should I?" he asked.

"BECAUSE PEOPLE NEED TO WEAR UNDERWEAR--!!"

"Okay, okay! Geez, keep screaming to a minimum, for God's sake, take your damned underwear..."

He pulled the said green underwear out of the drawer and threw it at him.

"Thank you, Voldie-poo," growled Harry. "And make sure we don't have to go through this incident again."

"Oh shut up," said Tom tiredly. "Go to bed or something..."

Harry walked out snickering, ignoring Tom.

Tom froze in the process of closing the drawer. "Wait a minute, what did he just call me??"

------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Harry was returning to the common room, he met Ron and Hermione before he even got there.

"Hey!" he greeted. "Let's go see Hagrid!"

To Ron and Hermione, this was rather out-of-nowhere, but there was plenty of time until curfew.

Ron shrugged. "Sure."

"We can see what he's done with Grawp, then," said Hermione.

As they walked down to Hagrid's hut, Harry told both of them about getting his underwear back from Tom.

"Well, I suppose it's wrong to say, but...well..." she said hesitantly as they reached the front of the hut. "He's a bit...err...cute."

Ron, luckily, had not heard, but Harry heard perfectly well. He turned to gape at her as Ron knocked on the door.

"Excuse me, what?" said Harry loudly. "You know Tom Riddle is who we're talking about, right--?"

"Come on in, the whole lot o' yeh!" said Hagrid over Harry's voice. "Thought yeh'd forgot 'bout me..."

"We thought we'd stop by, see how things are going," said Harry, trying to forget what Hermione had said.

"Ah, things are grand, Harry, grand," said Hagrid. And he looked truthful, too.

"What about Grawp?" asked Hermione, as they all sat down at the small round table inside the hut.

Hagrid smiled. "Knew yeh'd ask 'bout that. He's doin' really good, knows a bit o' English now, yeh know, I reckon he migh' understand few o' the words yeh say to him."

"Has he become more...err...manageable?" asked Harry.

"Oh, loads!" said Hagrid excitedly. "Sometime, I'll let yeh all see him, he still tears up trees though, gotta get 'em to stop that...Anyway, 'nough 'bout Grawpy, I heard Tom Riddle's been stayin' with yeh over the summer, Harry..."

"Yeah," said Harry heavily. "He's--"

He broke off, not knowing what to say. Tom had accused Hagrid of opening the Chamber of Secrets and ordering Aragog to kill people, when it was really Tom himself, back some fifty years ago. Hagrid frowned slightly.

"I reckon he's annoyin', ain't he?"

"That about sums it up," smiled Harry.

After some tea and some chit-chat about the Order, curfew was almost up and the trio decided they should head back up to the castle.

"Hagrid really doesn't like Tom at all," said Hermione. "I can understand..."

Ron nodded and Harry decided not to comment about Hermione thinking Tom was cute in front of Ron, so they walked in virtual silence all the way back up to the common room. They sat there for hours, talking, until Harry decided he'd finish his Transfiguration work. Ron and Hermione retired to bed, Ron saying he'd stay up and wait for him (Harry knew he wouldn't, he'd end up falling asleep) but Harry nodded and continued his work.

As he finished and got his things together, he was on his way to the staircase to the boys' dormitories when the portrait hole opened, revealing Severus Snape.

Harry gaped at him, he'd never seen him come into the Gryffindor common room before, and he certainly looked out of place. The Potions' master scowled around at the room before his eyes fell on Harry.

"I'm surprised you're awake, Potter, I have news for you," he said stiffly.

Harry set his bag down, not really wanting to know what it was. "Tom hasn't escaped again, has he?"

"No, Potter," said Snape sharply. "And keep your voice down."

Harry glared at him with anger. He wasn't talking loud in the first place.

"I wanted to let you know, Potter, that the potion is ready, and your presence is requested in my office."

The hour struck twelve midnight as Snape walked out, Harry rushing to follow him.
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A/N: Sorry that this seems like quite a rushed ending, but I never planned for the chapters to be more than eight! But I've added a bonus to chapter eight...a deleted scene...I hope it compensates a little bit for making this story so short??

Chapter eight: Transition

Snape and Harry did not say another word to each other on their way down to the dungeons. Harry had nothing to say to him; his anger at Snape had not much receeded from last year.

'Funny,' Harry thought as they walked down toward the Entrance Hall. 'I think I remember him saying he never wanted to see me in his office again...well...'

Tom and Albus came around the corner, both of them smiling, but Tom was slightly flustered and looked as if he had just been in an argument. Albus had on a very large pair of his wizards robes, with his glasses back on, ready to transform. Tom had on his regular black cloak, which was also very large on him.

Tom and Severus stiffened when they saw each other, looking at each other eye-to-eye before Albus walked between them.

"Hello, Severus," said Albus, gesturing him inside, with Tom following.

Severus, rudely enough, did not return the greeting.

"As I just told Potter," said Snape quietly, "the potion is ready now and we'll have to wait a few moments for it to cool down, so you may all sit down."

Harry, Tom, and Albus all sat, watching Snape closely as he filled two flasks of the steaming red potion. It looked a lot like some kind of fruit punch.

"What does it taste like?" asked Harry curiously.

"It doen't matter," snapped Snape. "You won't be drinking it."

Harry snarled, his eyes narrowing angrily. Just a simple question, and Snape had to be a git about it!

The corners of Tom's mouth twitched in amusement at the silent war between Snape and Harry. Albus looked at Harry carefully and shook his head, as if telling him not to worry about it.

Harry leaned back in his chair as if ignoring everything around him.

"I wonder how long this will have to cool," whispered Albus.

"I don't know," said Harry loudly. "Apparently we're not allowed to ask questions, so..."

"You wait two minutes," said Snape, glaring at Harry. "Then you may both take it, preferably at the same time. I have other business to attend to."

And he walked right out, his greasy hair swaying in his face.

"Fine," said Harry to the closed door. "No one wanted you in here anyway."

"Harry," said Albus, sighing. "Please, try not to anger him, we don't need a teacher/student duel."

"That should be interesting to watch," said Tom.

Albus and Tom watched the flasks as patiently as possible. A minute went by, then slowly, another.

"Finally," said Tom, jumping up and walking over. "Come on, Albus."

He and Albus picked up their flasks and turned to look at Harry, their faces unreadable.

"Well, here we go," said Albus, lifting to his flask to his lips.

Tom did the same and they downed it, pulling a disgusting face.

"Tastes like some kind of droppings," said Tom, replacing the flask upon the table.

Suddenly, a light silver mist developed in the room, looking almost like the contents of a Pensieve, and they were temporarily blinded by its thickness until it settled to nothingness.

In the room, standing beside each other, were Albus Dumbledore, flexing his fingers and smiling, stroking his long white beard. Beside him was Lord Voldemort, his horrible red eyes fixed upon his own sickly fingers. Harry stood, a chill in his stomach, and he felt his scar begin to burn, making his eyes water.

Voldemort focused on him and grinned. "Back to my old self," he said, his voice high-pitched now.

Harry staggered slightly because of his scar hurting and looked at Dumbledore, who was now beginning to frown.

"You should really put a Disillusionment Charm on yourself, when you make your way through the castle and grounds," said Dumbledore to Voldemort, his eyes were suddenly hard.

Harry looked up at Voldemort, who, for once in his life, didn't look like he wanted to chop Harry's head off at the moment.

"I have other business to attend to," he said walking to the door. Harry wondered if he was mocking Snape.

At the door, he turned to look back at Harry, his merciless red eyes almost penetrating through him.

"After I leave the grounds, do not think I will go that easy on you," he said, waving a finger at Harry. "I've learned plenty about you and I'm still bent on making life difficult for you, but I don't think this very second is the right time to kill you."

"Oh no," said Harry. "I don't think Albus--Professor Dumbledore, rather, would like that."

"No," said Voldemort. "And I'm not in the mood for dueling. I'd rather go and spend time with my precious Nagini and my loyal Death Eaters. But, remember, Harry Potter, we will meet again."

"I know," said Harry. "Trust me, I know."

As Voldemort gave him a last hard stare, he waved his wand over his head and cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, making him chameleon-like. He opened the door and walked out, closing it behind him.

The remaining two crossed over to the window and pulled back Snape's dark curtain. They waited patiently until they saw the chameleon figure of Voldemort walk carefully across the soggy grounds. It had been raining earlier, and mud was everywhere. As they watched, they saw Voldemort fall to the ground in a super-slick area of mud.

Struggling not to laugh, the pair watched closely as he eased out of the mud and appeared to be speaking to the mud on the ground (quite aggressively) for a minute, then turned sharply on his heel and left into the Forest.

"Well, Harry," said Dumbledore, after they had backed away from the window. "I guess you should get some rest, you've got class tomorrow. I need rest as well, after being in Tom Riddle's company for so many weeks. I suppose it's strange for you to suddenly be calling me 'Professor Dumbledore' again?"

"Yes," said Harry. "I mean, if I look at your face, I can call you 'Professor', but talking about you makes me want to call you 'Albus'."

"I'll let it slip a few times," smiled Dumbledore. "By the way, Harry, this next summer when you go to the Dursleys', don't get too comfortable, because we'll be coming to get you after a week or two."

"Really?" asked Harry excitedly, as they walked out.

"Oh yes. I don't see how you lived with them all your life, even when I was watching over you. I couldn't stand them for the weeks Tom and I stayed there. I'm sorry for making you live there in the first place...but you know...the protection..."

"I understand," said Harry quickly. "Well, good night, Albus."

"There's strike one," joked Dumbledore as they parted their ways.

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THREE DAYS LATER
5th of September, 1996
Voldemort's P.O.V.

I sat in my old chair in the darkest room, which I missed so much. My Death Eaters were glad of my return, I presumed, but not nearly as glad as my dear Nagini. I've readjusted quickly to being back at my place--my wherabouts I would disclose to no one. After all, that's private information.

I'm back to being served food, instead of getting it myself, back to people obeying me instead of listening to Harry Potter's nags and commands. That was the most annoying part of being sweet sixteen again, I admit, was the nagging. And the hormones. Damn, almost makes you want to feel sorry for the teenagers.

Yeah, right. Me, feel sorry?? Ha! Think again!

My mind wanders back to the summer frequently. It seems to be cursed into my mind, I can't forget about it. I've learned so many things about Harry Potter, my arch-nemesis, over the summer. A lot more than what I thought I'd learn--even about his relatives.

They are hideous-- all three of them.

I feel quite ridiculous that Potter talked me into doing things. That was so weak of me. But I couldn't help it. I was not Lord Voldemort physically at the time. There wasn't really anything I could do. And Albus threatening me to stay put at the house...

And that pig-of-a-cousin Harry has, Dudley. I swear, if there's any Muggle-killings, they'll take place on Privet Drive. Harry actually talked him into sitting on me once. Well, actually twice. Sitting on me! Like I was Father Christmas and gladly gave up my lap to little children!

That was a ridiculous comparison. I can't believe I actually compared myself with Father Christmas.

Besides the many downsides of living with Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore over the summer, there were a few upsides. I just can't think of any right now. Oh, yes. I've learned about Harry Potter, as I've said so many times before.

He has a terrible temper, he just sets off in the middle of the day, most of the time because of that scar on his head. I've thought about that temper of his a lot. Sometimes he can control it, however. And he can yell loud. I've actually considered getting my ears checked out for a while. Quite a powerful wizard he is, he just doesn't know it. He has to be. No true enemy of mine would be weak.

But now, I've gone back to my normal life, to my normal longings and wishes.

I see it every time I dream, what I want most: the prophecy, wrapped in Harry's green underwear, which I sorely wish I had kept. I sometimes wonder if my longing is more for the underwear, not the prophecy.

Yes, I still hate Harry Potter, for all the things he's done to me. But being disturbingly so close to him for so many weeks has changed my opinion slightly about him. But he still gets on my nerves, makes me grit my teeth and glare.

And not just Harry, I've learned things about Dumbledore. Living with both of your enemies for a while makes you curious about them. You learn what you can hold against them that other people don't know about. It was certainly an experience that was both frustrating and fascinating.

But I never want to have to go through that again.

I remember, when I left Severus Snape's office after I turned back to my normal self, how happy I was to actually be getting away from Harry and Albus. I wanted to run from them. Unfortunately I fell unceremoniously into a giant pile of mud, but that's beside the point. I suppose that's quite funny to be running from Harry and Albus, because most of the time I'm searching to find them and destroy them, not running from them. I felt the same exact feeling the last night I spent at the Dursleys.

Wormtail has come in with my food. Eggs and toast. I narrow my eyes at him and tell him to get me something else. Those two food items remind me of a certain memory at the Dursleys' house. But of course, a few minutes later when Wormtail returned, he was carrying yogurt.

"Today's just one of those days I feel like throwing Cruciatus Curses," I say angrily.

Wormtail shuddered and ran away, almost dropping the tray. When he timidly returned again, he was carrying something I could not recognize. He put it down in front of me and bowed clumsily.

"What is this?" I ask.

"I don't know, Master. I--I--I assume it's food...."

I glare at him. How obvious. Today was going to be a long day...

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5th of September, 1996
Albus Dumbledore's P.O.V.

The sun is rising into a beautiful morning. I stare out of my window out into the Quidditch pitch, lost in thought. I couldn't help thinking about the summer often, it seemed to float into my mind all of the time, and I wonder if that ever happens to Tom.

I refuse to call him Voldemort in person, or when I think about him. He doesn't deserve a different name. Calling him Tom reminds me of who he once was, back years ago, when he sat in my Transfiguration class, gaping at everything, trying to memorize every word I'd say.

This summer reminded me that--at one point--he was actually a real person.

Now he's that revolting creature.

After living with Harry over the summer, I've grown closer to the young wizard. He will return there for only a short period for this next summer, but under no circumstances will he be staying that long again. Honestly, that family could give Death Eaters a run for their money.

The soft tinks of my office odds and ends resound almost loudly throughout my office. I turn to blankly stare at them, still lost in my swirling thoughts.

Like Harry had said before, maybe this whole summer thing actually turned out to be a good experience after all. I certainly learned some things. I never want to be a teenager again. I mentally scold myself for ever wanting to be. Teenagers are too...well...there is no word to describe them. No, no...I'm not insulting them...just merely remembering how...different...they are. I enjoy being old now. You can relax all day and no one will say anything about it.

I wonder vaguely what Harry is doing right now. But before I could think or do anything, the door slammed open. Yes, slammed open. An extremely flustered Percy Weasley comes in. I couldn't help but be surprised. Percy was still angry at anyone associated with me, even if the truth of Voldemort's return was shoved right under his nose.

"Mr. Weasley," I greet him like a good friend.

"Dumbledore," he said stiffly. "The Ministry just found out that you have been missing all summer."

"Oh?" I say, amused. The Ministry must be extremely slow.

He stares at me for a full minute. I stare curiously back, smiling.

"Well?" he asked impatiently.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley, I have no idea what you expect me to say." I know perfectly well what he wants me to say.

"Where have you been all summer?" he said, a small bite of anger in his voice. "Minister Fudge wishes me to interrogate you."

I lean back in my chair. Ah, yes, the idiot. Goodness, why in the world am I still thinking like a sixteen year old? Old men rarely say 'idiot'...or, well, I didn't use to...

"Where should I begin, Mr. Weasley?"

"Maybe you should try at the beginning," he said, crossing his arms and taking a seat.

I sigh. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. If the Minister is so interested in my story, why didn't he come to ask me about it himself?" I don't say it rudely, I ask curiously. And I know he's not going to have a correct answer.

He stammered something. "Minister--he---I don't--he just--I wanted--"

Poor boy. He's lost his English skills.

As I politely listen to his babbling of unconnected words, I mentally steady myself. Today was going to be a long day...


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A/N: Okay, now I had planned for this to be the end, and it IS the end of the story, but I'm going to include a "deleted scene" down here below this, and guess what everyone...it features the time Dudley sat on Tom! Are you happy? Now, remember, this is back in the summer at the Dursleys'....enjoy it...
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"It's about time you got full of eating, Tom," said Harry as they walked into the living room. "You'd think you had some kind of worm."

"What?" snapped Tom.

"You heard me!"

"I'm getting really tired of you--"

"And you think I'm actually enjoying your company?" barked Harry.

Albus sat on the couch, trying to ignore the bickering, his eyes boring toward the TV as if asking it for some kind of peace. The argument, steadily increasing in volume, raged on.

"You remember when I told you I could get Dudley to sit on you?!" yelled Harry.

"Who cares what you said?! That was one of your empty threats! You're all bark and no bite!"

"All bark and no bite, eh?" said Harry, a mischeivous grin appearing on his face.

"Exactly right! That whale wouldn't even be able to get down the stairs, much less sit on me! I am Lord--"

"Oh, Dudley!!!" Harry called in a mock-sweet voice, interrupting Tom. Thunderous bangs of numerous footsteps shook the light fixture on the ceiling.

"Are we having an earthquake?" asked Albus, raising his eyebrows and momentarily halting his silent plea with the television set. "Or is that Dudley?"

"That's Dudley," said Harry simply.

Dudley was coming downstairs as fast as his round body could take him, almost falling on the last step. "Someone call my name?" he said, huffing because he was out of breath.

"I did," said Harry, that same wild grin on his face. "Tom just told me he wanted you to sit on him."

Dudley's eyes lit up. He loved to sit on people, for some strange and disturbing reason. Immediately, he flopped towards Tom, who was gaping at him.

"Huh? What--hey, wait!! NO!" he screamed. "NOT-NOOO!!! Go away, I said, GO AWAY, NO! Don't do that!!! Get--"

But Dudley turned and threw all of his weight down on top of Tom.

"AAAACCK!" shrieked Tom, squirming helplessly underneath him. "Get your fat whale of an arrrr---"

His words were squeezed together as Dudley leaned back comfortably.

"Wah!" barked Tom, trying to speak. Harry and Albus were dying of laughter, almost rolling on the floor.

Tom kicked his legs out, trying to hit something in vain. He managed to remove his squashed jaws from Dudley's back.

"GET HIM OFF OF ME RIGHT NOW!!! I SWEAR I WON'T SAY IT AGAIN!!! Please, I'm suffocating!!"

Tears were actually brought to Tom's eyes, he struggled with all he could until Dudley finally stood up. Tom took in a huge gulp of breath and clutched his chest.

"Never...again....sit...it's...not...funny...stupid..."

He coughed as Dudley scrambled away, laughing with hysteria. Tom glared after him.

"I've just had a near-death experience," said Tom breathlessly. "I'm scarred for life, truly tramatized--"

"Oh, that's nothing," said Harry, recovering from his laughter. Albus was still going on behind him. "You've never had round two."

"Round two?" he asked, terrified. "Yeah, right, you're just trying to scare--"

"Oh, Dudley!!!" Harry called.

Boom..boom..boom...

"NO!!!"

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A/N: By the way, Dudley does get round two of being sat on by Dudley. He narrowly escapes a round three. :D Thanks for reading! *Goes off to cry*.