Torn Asunder

Torn Asunder

Chapter One- Black Rain

It was a dark and stormy night... how cliché

, Harry breathed out a soft sigh as he gazed up at the ceiling of the great hall, noting the dark heavy clouds, the streaks of silent lightening, and the pelting rain that streak across the artificial sky. Outside, real thunder boomed, and bright streaks of lightening flashed just outside the windows, the steady drumming of rain audible even over the loud chatter inside the hall. His dinner remained nearly untouched, only picked over half-heartily.

"What's wrong Harry?" Hermione looked at him with worried brown eyes, hitting Ron in the side with her elbow and motioning with him with her eyes to go look at Harry.

"Aw Hermione, I'm sure that Harry's fine... aren't you mate?" Ron gave the famous Boy-Who-Lived a bright smile and tossed Hermione a knowing look, "He has no reason for being depressed..."

"Even though You-Know-Who attacked early?" She fixed Ron a mild glare and amended, "Well, he usually attacks us at the end of the school year, not the beginning." Hermione reached up a hand a flicked a strand of her bushy brown hair away from her eyes.

Harry looked over at both of his best friends with a fond expression, though he couldn't seem to drudge up a sufficient smile to satisfy Hermione. He ran a hand through his tousled black hair, his usually bright green eyes seemed a little dull this year... though Hermione couldn't really blame him with Cedric's death last year and Voldemort's strange attack. Finally she asked him softly, "Harry... I know that we're kind of prying, but you never did tell us what happened with Cedric last year and You-Know-Who this year."

The dark haired boy bit his bottom lip slightly, looking indecisive as he opened his mouth, "Well--"

"Look at Potter, Weasel, and Mudblood, what's wrong? Does Potter feel a little queasy now?" Draco Malfoy smirked at the trio, not having changed in the slightest during the summer. He still looked coolly elegant, had the same silver eyes and light blond hair. Crabbe and Goyle -as always- flanked his sides, sneering at the Gryffindors, while chortling at Malfoy's joke, though they did not seem to understand it. "Wouldn't want you to get a cold Potter, especially with the entire wizarding world's fate resting on your shoulders," with that last remark he walked away casually, ignoring the way Harry and Hermione had to restrain Ron from attacking him.

"Ron! Calm down!" Hermione was hissing into Ron's ear furiously, keeping an eye out towards the staff's table while doing so, "You just can't attack him!"

"I bloody well can!" though after that remark, Ron seemed to calm down slightly, sitting back at the table though his hands were clenched and he was glaring murderously at Draco's back, "Didn't you hear what he said Hermione? We just can't let him get away with that!"

Harry glanced around cautiously at the rest of his house mates, noting with relief that most of them didn't seem to pay any attention to what Draco had said. Relief over that? Your just relieved that you didn't have to tell Hermione anything... this time. He gave a mental sigh over his thoughts and placed a friendly hand on Ron's arm, "Ron, we can't, not in front of the teachers."

"Hey, what's wrong with Ron?" Neville looked across the table into Ron's tight face, looking slightly nervous as he asked Harry, "Did Malfoy do something to him again? I couldn't quite catch his words while he was here."

"Want us to do something to him?" George leaned over and gave a playful smirk towards the trio, Fred nodding along with the suggestion. He and Fred were in their seventh year, yet showed no signs of stopping their tricks or jokes, "We could always slip in a canary cream... or maybe a tongue toffee, that'll show Malfoy his place!"

For a moment Harry was severely tempted with the idea, but he regretfully shook his head, "No, you'll two will get into trouble, all of Hogwarts now knows about your creations... usually because they were at the receiving end." He gave the best version -and he has been practicing- of a smile he could, but he seemed to be too depressed to hold it for longer then a few seconds. He dropped his head into his hands and sighed lightly.

Ron and Hermione cast each other worried looks over the top of Harry's head, and each stood up, grabbing his arms. Ron smiled cheerfully at the people in the table and spoke to Neville, "Don't worry, Malfoy will get his due... We just have to find out what's with Harry lately," and with those words, he and Hermione dragged Harry away towards the Gryffindor common room.

~

"Now talk," Hermione pushed Harry down on a squashy armchair and hovered around him like a mother hen, worried for her chicks. Before he could even open his mouth, she spoke once more, "and don't tell us that everything is all right! You've been acting moody and depressed, even before the start of the year and You-Know-Who's attack.

Ron nodded along with what Hermione was saying, obviously agreeing with her ever word.

Of course he'd agree with her... you'd think that they were snogging considering how chummy they are acting this year...

Harry almost immediately felt guilty, here was his friends trying to find out what was wrong with him, and all he could think about were how nosy they were being. He just expelled a sigh and looked away from them, not saying a word.

"Come on Harry! We're your best friends, who else do you have to trust except for us?" Ron seemed bent on trying to get Harry to admit something, anything, that would help them unravel the mystery he has been since the start of the school year.

"Look you two!" Harry suddenly shot up from the chair and gave them a glare, "I don't want to talk about it! I know your trying to help me and all, but I'm fine! I've been fine! And I will always be fine!" His green eyes were shielded by some unnamed emotion, his fists clenched as he glared at them both. "You're my best friends and all, but I don't have to tell you two everything that happens in my life!"

Immediately a guilty expression stole over Hermione's face and she winced at Harry's expression and his words. "But..." she began softly, trying to calm Harry down while wringing the front of her black robe nervously.

"But nothing Hermione! Prefect or not, you have no right to butt into every aspect of my life! No right to examine it like I'm some insect under a microscope!" Harry was clearly enraged by now, the stress and nights of no sleep finally getting to him, though Ron and Hermione wouldn't know about that.

"I wasn't... we weren't..." for once Hermione seemed to be fumbling for words to say to Harry, her brown eyes growing desperate. Neither she nor Ron had any idea were an outburst like this had originated from.

Suddenly Ron reached out a hand and placed it on Hermione's shoulder, saying quietly, "'Moine, I don't think we can do anything right now..." As Hermione stopped her attempts of saying something that would dissuade Harry's accusations, he turned to Harry, his eyes troubled, "We'll leave you alone then Harry."

Suddenly Harry brushed them both aside and opened the portrait door, muttering over his shoulder, "Don't bother, I'll go outside," his strides were long and quick in his want to get away from everything.

"But Harry! It's raining out there!" The only thing that answered Hermione was the closing portrait's door.

~

As Harry walked quickly down the corridor, black thoughts churned in his head, mixed with guilty ones. I... shouldn't be taking my troubles out on them... but they shouldn't keep pressing me for information! I don't have to tell them everything that goes on in my so-called life. He groaned and turned the corner, suddenly running into another person. Oh, shi-

"5 points from Gryffindor for not looking where you are going Mr. Potter!" Snape glared down his nose towards Harry, his dark eyes holding frustration in them, "Just because you are famous for a scar on your forehead, doesn't mean you own the halls." Before Harry had a chance to retort, he strode down the halls powerfully, pausing now and again to glare at several students.

Great, just great, a week into the school year and not only does Voldemort try an attack, but I lose some points as well

, he scowled and stalked down the halls, going out the door to outside, while ignoring the strange looks that were tossed his way. Harry walked through the rain, nearing the forbidden forest, too caught up in his thoughts to notice that he was soaked entirely through.

He stopped and stared at a large puddle in the middle of the ground, examining himself critically, he saw the same old green eyes, same untamable black hair... he breathed a soft sigh and glared at his reflection, noticing the dark bags under his eyes and his thin frame. In his fifth year and he still did not have a lot of bulk and muscle, not that he wanted to be like Crabbe and Goyle of course, but it would be better then looking as if he could barely defend himself, nonetheless others.

Harry was more of a subtle strength, fated to not have the huge biceps and muscles like some men may have. Instead, he was leaner, though having highly toned muscles from all of the quidditch he has played, so he was strong, but it didn't show up in a mass of muscle. Though at this moment, he was leaner then he was supposed to be, a little gaunt, slightly paler then normal.

He paused next to a tree, looking at the forbidden forest in contemplation, wondering whether or not he should walk in there. He knew that he would get in trouble, but right now... he really didn't care. He sighed and leaned heavily against a tree, head hanging down as trickles of water made it's way around his hair. Sometimes... sometimes I wish I could tell Ron and Hermione everything that has happened to me... Cedric... the summer... Voldemort. But why should I burden them with my problems?

A curse filled the air as Harry's fist slammed into the tree and he slid to the ground as if his legs couldn't carry any weight. His mind cried out frantically, it's not fair! I didn't ask to be the boy-who-lived! I just wanted to be normal, not have to face Voldemort every damn year, be strong for others... when can I have time to myself? When can people like me, love me, for who I am and not for some public farce I'm made out to be?!

He curled up under the tree, arms going around his knees as he buried his head into them, whispering softly, "But I can't can I? I'm bloody Harry Potter, who knows how many people wish to be in my shoes... and how much I wish I could switch with them." A single droplet of salt water slipped down his face, unseen, unheeded as it mixed in with the rain.

Something warm emanated from his chest and he lifted his head slightly, feeling as if it was ten time heavier then it usual was. His right hand came up slowly and he gripped his necklace that he obtained over the summer. A single dark silver cusith pendant dangled from a thin silver chain that was around his neck. He glared at it frostily for a moment before his expression softened and he lightly stroked it before returning it under his robes, away from sight.

Funny really, a cusith was supposed to be an enormous dark green hound the size of a young bull. It had a long thin tail and in olden times muggles were afraid of it. Every time they bayed, the muggle farmers would lock up their women in fear of them getting stolen by the cusith. They believed that the hound's mission was to round up women and drive them to a fairy mound so they might supply milk for fairy children, they also believed that the hound's had long braided tails. Nothing else could be farther from the truth in fact, the cusith were guard dogs and bayed every time they found an interloper or someone of that kind, they were proud and noble creatures. They also ran messages and errands for their masters, ever faithful.

The false claims about the women came from a muggle who observed the cusith running into a house after some strange baying had been heard, and pulling out a woman, who was in fact a witch. The muggle spooked and ran off, telling others about his experience. With the way muggles were, the truth became crushed and the tale got more and more expanded upon, until it became a myth. Nobody knows where the idea of the cusith having a braided tail came from, as humorous as it sounds.

Harry sighed and jerked out of his musings, knowing very well were they would lead up to, and he didn't feel up to analyzing it. He shivered slightly and hugged his knees tighter, feeling the damp and the cold for perhaps the first time. His gaze went down to his right hand and he clenched it softly, before turning to one of the problems that had plagued him for as long as he lived... Voldemort.

"God I hate you," he hissed out softly to the weeping sky, green eyes churning with different emotion, "All of this happened because of you... and They won't give me anymore information in fear of ruining everything." He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tree, feeling the cold water dribble down his back.

I'm not really sure what happened with Voldemort a couple of days ago... but it played out exactly like They wanted it to... me all alone facing him, casting that spell... I don't even know what it did! I feel like I'm a puppet They just jerk around!

Harry cursed softly and laid a hand on the ground, clenching the mud between his fingers and letting it dribble through. I don't get enough sleep with Them occupying my thoughts and dreams, I never get a break, my friends worry too much... it's falling apart all around me.

With a surge of emotion, Harry lurched up from his position, ignoring the mud that was liberally splattered on his black robes. His clenched fists slackened as he began to once again walk through the rain towards the forbidden forest, uncaring for the creatures that might lurk within. His rain streaked glasses made it hard to see through, even with the water repelling charm on it, and he was freezing... but he didn't care. I'm not enough of a coward to end it all... or I'm too much of a coward to go through with it, I wonder which is correct...

He entered the dark forest, the rain letting up slightly as he wandered inside due to the broad, leafy plants that towered over head. Harry didn't really know where he was going, his feet took him wherever they felt he needed to be. Suddenly he tripped and sprawled over, damn log... wait a minute... He sat up and squinted at the thing he tripped over, feeling his insides clench as he recognized a human body, "Oh no..."

Harry reached out a shaky hand and carefully turned the person over, and gaped, his eyes wide and shocked, "Someone is playing a cruel joke on me..."

There lay a tall person with messy black hair, young, around 16, with a pale visage. He was distinctly familiar to Harry, because this was the one person who had been plaguing him his entire life, the one person who has been trying to kill him more times then he could count... Voldemort... or at least in this form... Tom Riddle.

~

Harry gulped, oh great, what am I going to do now? And got out his wand, glaring down at the prone figure. Why does this always happen to me? He pointed it at Tom for a moment, his eyes narrowed, why the fuck isn't he moving? He scooted closer and poked the body with his wand, poking it harder when he saw that the body didn't respond.

"Did I kill him?" Confusion swirled in his eyes as he reached down and felt for a pulse at the boy's neck, it drummed weakly, but it was there all the same. "Eh..." he blinked several times, debating what to do with Tom as he sat in the mud.

A soft groan caught his attention and Harry immediately brandished his wand at the other person once more, hand shaking slightly as he did so. Should I... kill him? Take him prisoner? Tom's body twitched slightly and the slightly older boy gave something akin to a sigh. Fuck this... Harry reached over and pulled Tom up, grunting slightly at the weight. He muttered softly to the unconscious body, pocketing his wand, "You're heavy, do you know that?"

Nothing answered him, but he didn't expect anyone to, he heaved a sigh once more and boosted Tom up, beginning to trudge out of the forest, "I really should have left you, ya know." That's it, I'm certifiably insane, I've started to talk to myself... He fixed a mock glare at the body, "You're more trouble then you're worth, why I must always be a courageous Gryffindor is beyond me."

"Which is why I'm in Slytherin," a weak voice broke through his musings and Harry yelped, dropping the body. "Ow... did you have to do that?" Slowly Tom opened his eyes, revealing a pair of gorgeous dark blue eyes that looked at Harry levelly. He weakly pushed himself up from the muddy ground and glared at Harry, asking the one question that Harry didn't expect, "Who the hell are you?"

Harry gaped at Tom for a moment, his wand in his hand (he whipped it out as soon as he heard Tom's voice), "Err... Harry Potter of course... You know, enemy of you, trying to stop you from doing dastardly deeds from my first year all the way to my current year." He was so surprised; he had actually answered Tom's question without thinking twice. He saw Tom sneer, and it was such a nice sneer too... I'm pathetic.

"Right, and I'm trying to take over the world," Tom looked at Harry quizzically when the boy twitched slightly, "...You should visit the hospital wing," he spoke matter-o-factly, looking blearily up at the sky, "Why am I outside, in the rain?" He scowled and wiped some rain and mud away from his face.

Harry avoided that question, having a faint inkling on what happened, They are sooo dead... why They do these things is beyond me. Finally he spoke in a tentative voice; "Do you remember being Lord Voldemort?" Should I help him up or not? This may just be a trick...

"Lord Voldemort? What are you talking about?" Disbelieving eyes stared at Harry, "I don't know any Lord Voldemort's or anything of the such... are you going to help me up or not?" What is with this boy? He doesn't look a bit familiar... He raised a brow at the mechanical way that Harry reached out a hand to help him up; Maybe I should talk to Headmaster Dippet when I go see him next time, and clasp it with his own, ignoring the slight tingle that raced up his arm.

Harry helped pull Tom up and wrapped his arm around the boy, for all of Tom's bravado, he was still weak. He leveled a penetrating look towards the taller boy, asking rapidly, "What about the chamber of secrets then?"

Tom gave a start and suddenly glared at Harry, "How did you know that I was looking for it?" Damn it... what is with this boy? He suddenly said haughtily, "I assure you that I'm looking for it for interest only and would tell the Headmaster as soon as I found it."

"You haven't found it yet?!"

"Of course not! It's harder then it may seem... though it might have something to do with being a parselmouth... Don't tell anyone of the last bit will you?"

"I already know that you're a parselmouth..."

"What?!" Tom gaped at Harry for a moment, giving him his best haughty look, "Have you been stalking me or something?" Wouldn't I have noticed him? I haven't even told anyone else about being a parselmouth! This 'Harry' person, however cute he may be, is beginning to startle me... and I don't startle easily.

"Oh god...." Harry muttered to himself, seemingly completely forgetting about the mild depression he had sunk to before, "I'm going to get in so much trouble... How am I supposed to explain this to the Headmaster?"

Tom mentally rolled his eyes, seeing the familiar sight of the castle loom up ahead of them, "Really now, why would you get in trouble for helping a Prefect? Dippet would love you..." he looked around, "Though I still have no idea how I got there."

He sighed and shook his head, "Not Dippet... Dumbledore, Headmaster Dumbledore." Harry watched Tom carefully to gauge his reaction.

"...You're a bit touched aren't you?" Tom looked at Harry in surprise; "Dumbledore is the transfiguration teacher, not the headmaster!" He looks so... honest; he bit his bottom lip slightly.

Harry winced and stopped by the main doors of Hogwarts, muttering lightly to himself, "Dinner should be over, I should be able to sneak you in..."

"I don't need to be 'sneaked in'. I'm a prefect!"

"Prefect or not, you're not in Kansas anymore..." Inwardly Harry berated himself over his cheesy muggle lines.

"Hn, cheesy Potter, do you know that?"

"Ugh, you sound like Malfoy when you call me Potter."

Tom quirked a brow at Harry, "Fine then, Harry, though I don't know who Malfoy is either... are we going inside yet? I rather not get any wetter then I am currently." He glanced down at his soggy robes, "Though that may be impossible."

Harry gave him a slight smile, a little arrogant, but not too bad actually... "I'm still going to sneak you in you know..."

Waving his free arm around airily, Tom gave a half shrug, "Suit yourself then." He didn't pay much attention to Harry's speech about the different Headmasters and Dippet not being there... or something like that.

"Right... Hmm... I should bring you to the staff room I suppose, nearer then the Headmasters office anyway," Harry opened the doors and peeked inside, muttering to himself, "Considering how many people don't know about Tom Riddle... this should be easy."

"What do you mean? I'm known!" Tom's question remained unanswered as Harry began to tug him towards the staff room, walking quickly while trying to avoid all of the students that milled around near the entrance hall.

Harry tossed Tom a slightly irate expression, "SHH! It would just be my luck to have someone like Ginny recognize you for who you really are." He pulled Tom quickly through the entrance hall, ignoring the large amounts of water they both were trailing on the ground. They headed towards the staff room, which was just off the entrance hall.

~

"How have your lessons been going Severus?" Minerva McGonagall inhaled the pleasant smell of tea as she took a sip, "Everything going well I suppose?" She shook her head at Flitwick when he offered her some sugar.

Severus spoke dryly as he stared into the fireplace, "As well as they could with Neville Longbottom in my classes, and with the inaptitude of the first years." He settled himself comfortably in his chair, ignoring the patter of rain outside in favor of the roaring of the flames, "and with the amount of coddling the Potter boy receives."

"Really now, that's unfair to the boy. He has been through a lot recently, with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and everything," Professor Sprout smiled lightly at Severus, ignoring the scathing look he leveled towards her.

"Even though he wouldn't tell any of the teachers or even Dumbledore about what he did to You-Know-Who?" He shot Sprout an annoyed look, "That boy attracts more trouble then the all the Weasley's combined!"

McGonagall spoke up, fingering the edges of her emerald green robe, "But he doesn't ask for the trouble does he? Sometimes I get the feeling like he doesn't want to be 'Famous Harry Potter' and really Severus, talking about favoritism..." She let the rest fill in unspoken, it was no secret that Snape favored his own students.

About to retort with probably a most scathing reply, the door was pushed opened and the person they had just been talking about made his appearance all muddy and wet. Harry's green eyes seemed wider then normal, and he was unconsciously showing more of his feelings then he had since the start of the school year.

While that did catch the teacher's attention, they were more concerned over the person Harry seemed to be supporting. They were able to discern that it was male from it's form, and looked remarkably like Harry except he was larger, a bit more filled out build, and he had tired dark blue eyes.

Tom raised his head and looked at the teachers, his dark blue eyes holding slight traces of confusion, "They're not the teachers... We're in the staffroom, but none of the teachers are here. Harry, where the heck are we?"

"Potter!" Snape glowered at Harry and the person he brought with him, "What are you doing here?" he then focused his attention on Tom and scowled, "What are you getting at boy? We are the teachers." McGonagall nodded in absentminded agreement, her gaze thoughtful as they moved from Harry to Tom.

"Umm... is the Headmaster around?" Harry asked tentatively, eyeing Snape with mutual dislike, while asking Professor McGonagall, "It's rather important really..." Maybe... we should have risked being seen by Ginny and just have went to the Headmaster's office. I'm not even sure if she would recognize Tom by sight.

Suddenly the door opened once more and Dumbledore swept into the room, grinning cheerfully at everyone, "Anything the matter Minerva? You and the rest look a bit shocked," he glanced at Harry and continued on speaking, "Harry! Nice to see that you are here, care for a lemon drop?" He peered closer at the person that Harry was supporting, noting that he looked vaguely familiar, though he couldn't completely recognize Tom with his head turning away from him.

Before Harry could decline or McGonagall could answer, Tom looked up right into Dumbledore's twinkling light blue eyes and gaped. He continued on in that mode for several seconds before he managed to smooth his face over and ask in a slightly shaky manner, "Professor Dumbledore? ...You look... old. Where... Where is Headmaster Dippet?" He noticed that Dumbledore's beard and hair were no longer auburn and instead a snowy white color, and that the man had many wrinkles now.

For once it seemed that the Headmaster looked shocked, his gaze looking over Tom. He regained his composure quickly; shooting Harry a quizzical (perhaps the first time Harry has ever seen that expression) look. "Tom... Riddle?"

The other teachers, all having been informed if they did not know the true identity of Lord Voldemort after Harry's second year, showed varying degrees of shock. McGonagall gasped and nearly took a step backwards, Sprout and Flitwick just gaped, while Snape looked stunned with a touch of anger in his dark eyes.

Tom shot all the people in the room, well except for Harry, a confused mixed with annoyance look, asking coolly, "Why are all you looking at me like that? I demand to know where Headmaster Dippet is!" He struggled to stand by himself for a moment, but found that he couldn't, so he contented himself with leaning slightly on Harry.

Harry sighed and used his free hand to rub his head, muttering softly to Tom when the other people in the room still seemed shocked, "Well, didn't I tell you that Dumbledore is the Headmaster now?" Wonder what will happen now...

"Harry," Dumbledore finally transferred his hard stare at Tom back to Harry, his eyes softening slightly, "Does this have something to do with what you did to Voldemort before?" He remembered Harry's vehement refusals to tell him what he did with Voldemort, only that the man was still alive...

"...Yes Headmaster," Harry intoned softly, his eyes downcast.

"You still cannot tell us what you did can you?"

"...No Headmaster."

"And why not?"

"I can't tell you that either, I'm not allowed," he looked at Dumbledore's eyes beseechingly, letting everyone else wonder what was going on, "Even I do not know the full extent of what I have done."

"That isn't safe Harry."

"...I'll be fine."

Suddenly Tom's voice cut in smoothly, his eyes thoughtful, "Are you telling me that I'm in the future? But how did that happen? People don't just wake up one day in some forest far off into the future without any explanation."

"You were in the forest? The forbidden forest?" Severus looked at Tom and Harry sharply. Upon observing Tom's nod, he focused his attention on Harry and bit out, "Mr. Potter, do you not know that the forbidden forest is just as its name? Forbidden? What were you doing out there?" The last sounded accusing and demanding, his tone imperious.

Harry fidgeted slightly under the looks all of the people in the room gave him, finally saying softly, "Thinking." Though his tone was soft, it had a certain quality that brooked no argument, which of course made Severus sneer and get ready to fire out more questions, and most probably a point deduction as well.

"Severus," Dumbledore's tone was mild, though everyone in the room knew what he was doing.

Snape turned away from Harry and looked piercingly towards Tom, finally he asked, "And what are we supposed to do with Mr. Riddle? I suppose that Potter had thought that we'd figure that out for ourselves once he finished with his little soiree with You-Know-Who now?"

"Call him Voldemort, Severus," a calm Dumbledore gave the potions master a light smile, "Remember, there is nothing to fear from just saying his name."

An annoyed Tom broke in, "Nobody answered my question... and Harry and I are rather muddy and wet, I wouldn't say no to a bath." True, both boys seemed a little worse for wear, but nothing unduly serious though.

Everyone's attention snapped back to Tom as Dumbledore said carefully, "I don't think that your from the past... but Harry is the only one to answer you with any sense of knowledge on what has happened, afterwards we'll give you both a bath, Harry?"

Heaving a soft sigh, Harry answered Tom as honestly as he could, "You aren't from the past Tom, I know that much... but you used to be Voldemort, but something happened... I'm just about as informed on you as the rest are." He gave Tom a sweetly apologetic smile, his green eyes honest.

"Well then!" Dumbledore swept a gaze over the surrounding people and suddenly spoke seriously, "I don't have to tell you all that Tom's true... or used to be true, identity cannot be revealed. Both boys will stay in the hospital wing for the time being, tomorrow, we'll figure out what to do."

"Headmaster?" at Dumbledore's inquiring look, Harry plunged right into his question, "Could you tell Ron and Hermione that I'm all right? I kind of got into a fight with them both and they might be a little worried right now." He ignored Tom's interested look, propping up the other boy better.

"Of course I will Harry... Right! Now that bit of business is behind us, would you boys care for some tea before you go up to the hospital wing?"