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*.