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.
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