Killing Me Softly

"This manor belonged to my father," he had said. "He died many years ago."

They lived mostly on the upper level. Her master rested on a soft, elevated surface called an "armchair." She continued to feed him her venom, and after each feeding, his body changed.

The black line running down his cloudy body had spilt into two structures. One turned into a whitish color and ran down his back - a spine. The other piece resided in his stomach and did not look like it belonged to his body. It burned red and reminded Nagini of a feather. As time passed, what appeared to be wood engulfed the feather.

One morning she had woken up to see that the wooden structure had taken on a definite shape. Her master was squirming in his place, pushing the wooden object up his stomach and out his wide, open mouth. A phantom hand had gripped the piece of wood and pulled it out. Her master had chuckled.

"My wand," he had said simply.

One afternoon, Nagini felt tiny feet scuttling nearby. She raised her head to see a large rat. She moved to grab it with her mouth, but then her master said, "Stop." She paused, and to her surprise, the shivering rat began to grow bigger and its features twisted. In place of the rat soon sat a fat human.

And I thought I've seen everything when I met a human who spoke my tongue, Nagini thought, amused. The quivering fat human turned to her master and began to speak, but she did not understand a single word they exchanged.

"M-m-m-master..."

"Dear Wormtail," Lord Voldemort said coldly, "how did you find me?"

"I spoke with every rat I came across, my lord," Wormtail said shakily. "I knew you would be safe."

"Why didn't you come sooner?"

Wormtail cringed. "Times were hard, my lord," he said desperately. "The Aurors were searching everywhere to find any Death Eater they could send to Azkaban. I had to hide!"

"Where did you hide?"

"I made myself friendly to one of the Weasley children," Wormtail said. "The boy took me in, and I've been in the family ever since."

"And what brought you out of your hiding place and into here?"

"I did not believe it when I first heard the news," Wormtail said. His body was still shaking. "The Weasleys' only daughter was murdered. She was taken down to a place called the Chamber of Secrets, and Dumbledore claimed it was you who killed her."

His master's large, coal-like eyes widened. "What was the wizard's name?"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Wormtail answered. "He came out of a diary that the Weasley girl was writing in for months."

"That wizard is me," Lord Voldemort said, surprising Wormtail. "Surely you've noticed the name in front of the manor we are staying in, Wormtail? This was my filthy father's dwelling."

"I'm sorry, master," Wormtail said hurriedly. "I should have known. I didn't take the time to read the sign."

"You are forgiven," Lord Voldemort said. "Tell me everything else you know about the events."

Wormtail nodded and recounted everything he had overheard from Ron Weasley. He told him about how Harry had run down to save Ginny and ended up being taken hostage, how the basilisk was killed, and how now the entire school was under scrutiny for anything connected to Lord Voldemort.

"When did this happen?" Lord Voldemort questioned when Wormtail was done.

"Last May, sir," Wormtail replied. "Four months ago."

"Four months?" Lord Voldemort said, surprised. "My younger self has left the diary and he did not seek me for four months? What about Potter?"

"He is still alive," Wormtail said. "Dumbledore had a brief chance to talk to him. From what I can understand, Harry and your younger self are in the same place."

"Where?"

"I do not know, my lord."

Lord Voldemort lowered his head and was quiet for a long time. Nagini raised her head and watched him, wondering if there was anything he wanted to tell her. When her lord emerged from his contemplation, he said to the fat human, "You are to go back to the Weasley boy."

Wormtail's trembling intensified. "My lord? No, I cannot go back! They're going to find out who I am!"

"Don't give them the chance!" Lord Voldemort said angrily. "Have you forgotten your Animagus form after being a vermin for so long? Hide among the forest rats when the guards search the students' pets."

"Y-y-y-yes, my lord."

"You are to spy on the Weasley boy and the Mudblood. They are the closest to Potter, and any news of him will reach them. You are to report to me on a regular basis about what is happening."

"Yes, my lord."

"And contact Lucius Malfoy. I must have a word with him."

"Yes, my lord."

"Now, go!"

Wormtail nodded. "Yes, my lord," he said once more, and then he dashed out of the room after transforming back into his Animagus form.

The human, which her lord told Nagini was called Wormtail, came and went over the next few weeks. Nagini watched him as he spoke with her lord using the human language she did not understand. One time a tall human accompanied him and spoke with her lord, clearly upset.

Every now and then her lord would have Wormtail collect her venom. Nagini amused herself in those times by pretending that she was about to strike him. Wormtail fell for it every time.

"Hey, stinky!" Nagini hissed loudly and pretended to strike. The human squealed loudly and jumped backwards, cowering in the corner.

"Wormtail, hurry up!" her lord called angrily from his seat, but Nagini caught a hint of amusement in his voice.

The world around Nagini was getting colder. She was out of the house for longer periods of time, feeding on any mouse that she could find among the fallen leaves while paying attention to making sure she didn't accidentally swallow Wormtail. She could easily pick out his human scent, and she jokingly reminded herself that a human may not be a tasty treat.

"I cannot handle this time of year," she hissed one morning as she made her way out the room. "My body can't handle the change of moods of the earth."

"Come back, Nagini," her lord said. She obeyed him. "Don't go today. I need you for the winter."

"I'm afraid this is something I cannot control, my lord," Nagini said.

"I can help you," her lord said. With a black skeletal hand, he beckoned her to him. She slithered up the sofa and wrapped herself around her lord. He pointed the thin stick at her, and instantly, Nagini felt warmer.

This is so much better, Nagini thought. Just then, the Wormtail appeared. He said something to her lord that she did not understand, but Nagini smelt a change in her lord.

"Harry Potter is living with my younger self on his own free will?" he angrily hissed in her tongue. He was shaking from a mixture of fury, shock, and confusion. Wormtail just stared at her lord, trembling again.

Nagini didn't know what he was talking about or why a hairy pot was making him so upset.

Silly humans, she thought, and then she went to sleep.

"Harry," Tom called out. He sat before a small table in the living room, wrapped in a blanket. The flu was subsiding, and he had enough energy to go from room to room.

Harry appeared quickly in the doorway. "Do you need anything, Tom?" he asked, smiling.

Tom returned the smile. "I want you to write a letter for me," he said, motioning to the parchment, quill, and ink bottle before him.

"Are you having trouble writing?" Harry asked, looking a little concerned.

"Yes," Tom said with a faint smirk. "It was an awful illness." Harry nodded and settled on the other side of Tom. He dipped the quill into the ink bottle and positioned it above the parchment.

"Ready," he said.

"This is what I want you to write," Tom said. "Dear Ron and Hermione." He let the words sink in. Harry looked up at him, surprised. Tom kept smiling. "What are you waiting for? Write the letter!"

"Thanks," Harry said, still looking bewildered at what was happening. He scribbled away on the piece of parchment, a smile creeping on his face with every new line. "Today is your birthday," Harry said when he looked up again. "Is there anything I can get for you?"

"You already got me Jarlath for Christmas," Tom said, "and you have already given me a wonderful gift."

"What is it?"

Your friendship, Tom thought, but he didn't say it out loud. Instead, he motioned for Harry to continue with his letter.

Ron and Hermione never expected to see Hedwig, so when she flew through the window of the Weasleys' kitchen and landed right in front of where they ate breakfast, it took them a moment to register what had just happened. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the twins, and Percy all looked up and didn't move.

Hedwig offered the letter to Ron, who glanced at Hermione and at his family before taking it. Fingers shaking, he opened the envelope and lifted the letter out.

"It's him!" he shouted, jumping to his feet. "It's Harry!" Everyone jolted out from their seats and gathered around Ron, listening as he read the letter out loud.

"Dear Ron and Hermione," Ron read. "I was finally given the chance to write a letter to you. Don't worry about me. I'm doing very well. Well, at first I was in danger, but I took care of myself and I'm perfectly fine now. Tom says I'm not allowed to write any more about what happened, at least for now. Don't worry about it. I still have all of my limbs, and my brain is still intact." Several people laughed.

"Tom is not a threat to me anymore. I cannot say everything that's been happening. I've sort of been getting to know him. All I will say is that I think I'm gaining his trust and friendship. If I keep this up, then he'll never hurt anyone again.

"That's why I asked to stay here with him when Professor Dumbledore brought my stuff a couple months ago. I think I'm the only one who can help him. I can't say where I'm staying at, but it's a comfortable home. The old owners have been dead for a while, but you can still talk to their paintings in the private library. The old witch who used to live here is crazy.

"Tom has been teaching me magic and feeding me some really delicious meals I never ate before in my life. You'll never believe how much he likes to eat; you'd think he would be bigger than Dudley. Did you ever try fried plantains before? I'm gaining weight thanks to him, so you can stop cringing every time you see my ribs.

"I'm doing well with my studies, and Tom is a very good teacher. Thank you for all of your presents; I hope you liked mine even if it was nothing special.

"I hope to hear from you both very soon. I missed you a lot. Signed, Harry

Mrs. Weasley and Hermione's faces were wet with tears when Ron was done.

"Oh, good heavens, he's all right!" Mrs. Weasley said tearfully when Ron was done. She grabbed random people around her and gave them a tight hug. Hermione ran up to her room and came back down with quills, ink bottles, and parchment.

While the other Weasleys celebrated at finally hearing word from Harry, Ron and Hermione set out to write a reply. Hermione started the letter, but Ron butted in before she was done with the first paragraph.

"Ouch! Ron!" she said. He had accidentally stabbed her hand with his quill.

"Sorry," Ron said as he hastily scribbled some words down. They took turns writing the letter, and they were soon joined by the rest of the Weasley family who told them what else to write.

Tom watched Harry as he read Ron and Hermione's reply. He turned the letter sideways every now and then, reading the side notes his friends have written, smiling the entire time.

"Like it?" Tom asked. "You're free to write to them whenever you wish." Harry turned to him.

"Thank you," he said, beaming. He lunged at Tom with another hug, but this time Tom was prepared. He briefly enjoyed the warmth of Harry's body next to him, and slowly, he awkwardly brought one arm around Harry's back, hugging him back.

Harry continually exchanged letters with his friends, occasionally reading out loud parts he especially liked to Tom. Tom listened although in truth he was not as interested in Ron and Hermione as much as Harry was. However, he was astounded at much more alive Harry had become. He became more attentive during their lessons and was generally happier than before.

Harry began to act as though the manor he lived in truly belonged to him. It wasn't long before Tom found himself face to face with a large, square, metal object.

"How did I agree to this?" he questioned as Harry read instructions on how to set up a smaller rectangular gadget to the television set.

"This manor is too quiet sometimes," Harry explained, "and I never had the chance to watch whatever I wanted before." He hooked up the little gadget and positioned the television to a suitable place in the living room.

"If he was still alive, Grindelwald would have a stroke if he saw this," Tom said, shaking his head and smiling faintly at how strange the modern-day object looked in the ancient room. He picked up a display of a vulture skeleton from one of the shelves and crowned the television with it. "It looks a little bit better."

Noticing there wasn't anyplace to put the plug in, Harry turned to Tom. "Can you help me start the television?" he asked. "I remember that one of your school friends could make electrical objects work." When Tom didn't budge, Harry decided to challenge him. "What's wrong? You didn't forget the spell, did you?"

"I still remember it," Tom said. He pulled out his wand, thought for a second, and waved his wand around the television. The screen lit up, greeting them with static.

"We're not connected to any channels," Tom reminded Harry.

"It doesn't matter," Harry said. "That's why I bought this." He patted the small rectangular object above the television. "It's called a VCR. It plays movies for us." He pulled out another small object from the pile of opened boxes and bags and showed it to Tom. "This is called a videocassette," he explained. "You put this in the slot over here, and it plays the movie for you."

"Simply fascinating," Tom said unemotionally.

Harry sighed. "I thought of you when I got this movie," he said, showing him the cover. Tom raised an eyebrow at the title: Sssssss!

Harry laughed. "I've heard about this movie a few years ago, and I think there's something in there you might like."

"What could possibly be in a Muggle horror film that will interest me?" Tom asked, but Harry kept smiling. Harry motioned for Tom to take a seat, which Tom obeyed reluctantly. Harry inserted the videocassette and sat next to Tom.

Tom stubbornly avoided looking at the television set, impatient for the movie to end. And then, he heard it.

"Stupid human. Your acting's not getting any better!"

Harry grinned and raised the volume.

"They used real snakes in the movie," Harry said. "Let's see what comments they make throughout the movie."

A mischievous smile crept on Tom's face, and he became more attentive to the rest of the movie. The snakes on the set didn't disappoint them. Their highly creative insults at the actors left the two boys laughing too hard to pay attention to what was happening in the actual movie. Some of the comments were so vulgar that Harry felt embarrassed someone like Tom heard it. Tom, however, was enjoying every minute of it.

I love it when he laughs, Harry thought while observing Tom. The weight on his shoulders seem to disappear. He even looks more handsome, if that is even possible.

Tom noticed that he was being observed, and he turned towards Harry. Harry smiled and absentmindedly wiped a tear of mirth from Tom's face.

"I hope you'll always be happy, Tom," Harry said.

"I was ten when I first spoke to a snake," Harry said sleepily later that night. The two boys lay in bed, Harry on his stomach, and Tom on his left side.

"What did the snake tell you?" Tom asked. Harry's head rested on the pillow, his messy black hair fell on his eyes, and he had the blanket pulled up to his nose. Only his brilliant green eyes were visible in the dark, their piercing, intense gaze locked with Tom's eyes. The two boys weren't aware of how close they rested next to each other.

"He was born and raised in captivity," Harry said, "but he wanted to go to Brazil."

"Did you help him?"

"By accident," Harry said. "I made the glass disappear somehow, and he got away. I didn't know how I did it, but at least Dudley got a scare." They both chuckled.

"I was four when I first spoke to a snake," Tom said. "It was during one of the orphanage's trips to the country. I was sitting on one of the picnic tables when I saw a garden snake come up to me and begin speaking. No one believed me at that time, but right away I knew that there was something about me that was different. Different and special."

"I didn't think there was anything about me that was special even after I went to Hogwarts," Harry said. "I didn't know about Parseltongue being rare until my second year."

"Such self-confidence," Tom teased. He gently tapped the tip of Harry's nose with one finger, and a hint of a smile peeked through the blanket.

The snow around Grindelwald's manor had melted, and forest experienced many heavy storms and grey, gloomy days. Tom waited for an appropriate day to take Harry to the magical village. None of the protections were taken off around the village; Professor Dumbledore obviously didn't trust him yet and so wouldn't tell the Minister to lift them.

Still don't believe me when I say that I will not harm Harry, do you, professor? Tom thought bitterly one morning as he planned how to disguise Harry. It was the first sunny day of the new year, and Tom decided it was time to take the trip; he knew Harry would greatly enjoy being in a magical village.

"Tom, I look really weird," Harry said after Tom magically changed his hair to blonde. "The hair makes my skin look like mustard!"

Tom sighed. He had been trying to disguise Harry for the past fifteen minutes. The process should not have taken so long. With another swish of his wand, Harry's hair turned red. Harry looked in the mirror and winced. "Tom, light hair just doesn't look good on me."

Tom growled; can't that idiot ever get satisfied? "I don't care!" he screamed. "It's only temporary!" He grabbed Harry's chin with one hand and began flicking his wand madly across Harry's face.

"Ow - Tom, watch it! That hurts!" Harry complained the entire time. When finally Tom let him go, Harry turned to the mirror.

"What do you think?" Tom asked, annoyed.

"It's not bad," Harry said. "You covered up my scar, and..." He stopped talking. "Why do I sound like this?" he took a closer look at the mirror, then turned to Tom, his eyes narrowed. "Why do I look and sound a little...girlish?"

"That's what you get for annoying me early in the morning," Tom said. Satisfied with the way Harry looked, he made for the door. "Let's get going, Goldilocks."

"You won't get away with this!" Harry yelled, hating the sound of his high voice.

Harry's anger at Tom vanished the moment they reached the magical village. The relief and excitement at being outside made up for his appearance.

"Thank you, Tom," Harry told him as they peeked inside the window of a Quidditch supply shop. "Ron and Hermione have been telling me about a place called Hogsmeade. I wished I could go."

"Here is not as beautiful as Hogsmeade," Tom confessed. "But I'm sure you've missed being in another magical environment besides home."

"You don't know how much I love this world," Harry said.

"No, I perfectly understand how you feel," Tom corrected. "I don't think I've ever been happier in my life than when I went to Hogwarts."

Tom took Harry to a small pub called The Chimera Café. In one corner a small group of witches sat huddled together. Most of them appeared to be writing, and dozens of rolls of parchment lay scattered around them. Every now and then, Harry heard one of them giggling.

Tom led Harry to a seat across from the group.

"Your glasses remind me of someone," the waitress said when she walked to their table. She took a good look at Harry, and then her eyes darted over to the far wall, where there was a picture of Harry looking exactly as he had before his magical growth spurt and the addition of Tom's disguise. It was one of Colin's pictures from the previous year; Harry's false smile in the photo was occasionally broken as he groaned and rolled his eyes. "You know, you look a lot like -"

"I know," Harry quickly interrupted, giving a girly giggle. "Everyone I meet tell me I look like I'm his sister!" When the waitress left, Harry threw Tom, who was grinning, a dirty look.

"Try this," Tom said, pushing a mug towards Harry. "It's called butterbeer."

"Ron and Hermione told me about it!" Harry said, brightening up. He took big gulps from his mug.

"Do you like it?" Tom asked, smiling, his eyes never leaving him.

"I love it," Harry said, grinning.

A corner of Tom's mouth twitched, and he brought a napkin to Harry's face. He wiped the thin line of butterbeer moustache from Harry's face. They both chuckled. When Tom brought his arm down, his hand rested on the table barely an inch away from Harry's.

One of the witches gave a finished piece of parchment to her neighbor, and the witch laughed heartily after reading it.

"Tom, can Ron and Hermione visit us for Easter?" Harry suddenly asked. "I haven't seen them in a long time, I miss them, and I think Easter break will be a good time for them to come here."

Tom looked hesitant.

"It would mean a lot to me," Harry pressed on.

"How are you sure their parents will agree to send them here?" Tom asked.

"It won't hurt to ask," Harry said.

Tom thought about it for a long while. Finally, he said, "They can come."

Harry beamed.

In the years that followed, Tom would wonder if the visit was the best or worst thing that had ever happened in his life.

"He wants us to visit him," Hermione said as she and Ron read Harry's letter. They were sitting in the Gryffindor common room alone in a corner. Scabbers, who had been asleep nearby, looked up.

"Excellent!" Ron said, beaming. "I was wondering when we could see him!"

Hermione frowned. "You know Professor Dumbledore and your parents won't let us."

"But don't you want to see Harry?" Ron asked.

"I do," Hermione replied, "but don't forget whose house we will be in."

"I don't care about that bastard," Ron said angrily. "I want to see my best friend! We have every right to see him, Hermione!"

"Even if you want to visit him, there's still the issue of your parents," Hermione pointed out.

"Simple," Ron said. "We'll sneak out. We'll tell Harry that everyone agreed, but we won't tell anyone."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Are you out of your mind, Ron? We're going to get into trouble!"

"It will be worth it," Ron said stubbornly. "Anything is worth it if we can see Harry."

He grabbed a new roll of parchment and began to write their reply hastily. Hermione sighed and shook her head before joining him. Behind them, Scabbers got up and scampered out the room without being discovered.

"Master!" Wormtail shouted hurriedly as he sprinted in the room. "Master, I just heard news. The boy has sent a letter to his friends asking them to visit him for the Easter vacation."

Lord Voldemort, who had been petting Nagini, looked intrigued. "What is my younger self planning? Surely he does not intend to let Potter's friends leave alive. I want you to go with them, Wormtail. Tell me where they are staying and what my younger self is up to."

"Yes, master," Wormtail said breathlessly. He transfigured into his rat form as he dashed out the door.

Ron and Hermione were still packing at the Burrow as the minutes ticked away. In just a few minutes they were going to see Harry again, and along with their clothes, toothbrushes, and school supplies, they brought gifts that everyone - the Weasley family, Hagrid, Neville, Dean, Seamus, and even some of the teachers - had bought for Harry. No one except Ron and Hermione knew that the gifts were to be taken personally and not by owl post.

"I think we got everything," Hermione said as she quickly glanced around her bedroom to make sure she had not forgotten anything.

At that moment, Scabbers jumped up on one of the traveling trunks. Ron grabbed him. "You're not coming with us," he said. He carried Scabbers back in his room. "You're staying here," Ron said. "I don't want you to be anywhere near Riddle. Knowing him, he could fry you and eat you for dinner."

Scabbers tried to escape, but Ron held him tightly. "What's up with you, Scabbers?" he said.

"Ron, quick!" Hermione called out, running to his room. "The Portkey is about to be activated!" She quickly glanced around to make sure that none of the other family members knew what they were up to. As if running to Harry's house without permission wasn't bad enough, they were to travel by an unauthorized Portkey set up by Tom Riddle.

If I get expelled from Hogwarts, I'll never forgive you, Riddle! Hermione thought nervously.

Ron tossed Scabbers onto his bed and ran out the room. Scabbers squeaked loudly and dashed out, running as fast as he could to Hermione's room.

He was gaining on Ron and Hermione. Their hands were both stretched out and about to touch the tea kettle. Scabbers jumped up...

Right before he could touch the nearest traveling trunk, the two friends and their trunks disappeared.

NO! Wormtail thought as he came crashing down onto the hard kitchen floor. He squeaked loudly and painfully. What am I going to tell my master? He squeaked loudly and painfully again.

Mrs. Weasley stuck her head in the room. She noticed Scabbers lying on the floor in an uncomfortable position.

"Poor little thing," Mrs. Weasley said as she picked him up and checked for any broken limbs. "I was wondering what that strange sound was..." She carried him back to Ron's bedroom. "What were you doing in Hermione's room?" She set him on Ron's bed then looked around.

"Ronnie dear? Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley called out. She hadn't seen them seen breakfast. She looked out Ron's window. "Have you seen Ron or Hermione?" She called out to Fred and George. They shook their heads.

Now worried, Mrs. Weasley skimmed through the house. She looked into the living room, the other bedrooms, and even the bathroom in case one of them had gotten sick. There was no sign of them anywhere.

Where are they? she wondered fearfully, walking back to Ron's bedroom. It was then that she noticed the letter sitting on Ron's bedside cabinet.

Mom,

By the time you read this letter, we'll be already with Harry and Riddle. Hermione and I are going to see Harry for the entire Easter vacation. We didn't want to tell you or Professor Dumbledore because we knew that you won't let us go. But we really want to see Harry, so we had to keep it a secret. We'll be back next Sunday before school starts again.

Ron

No! Mrs. Weasley thought. No, he will hurt my baby and Hermione! She screamed.

Harry could barely eat anything for breakfast, and he spent the remainder of the morning checking the time, anxious for the moment when he would be reunited with his friends. He was so preoccupied by thinking about Ron and Hermione that he almost didn't hear what Tom was trying to tell him.

When there was five minutes left, he jumped to his feet.

"Tom, they're going to be here!" Harry announced.

"I am perfectly aware of that," Tom said, amused. "I was the one who magicked the Portkey, after all." He motioned for Harry to stand a few feet from where his friends were going to appear, and he stood beside him. Glancing quickly at Harry, Tom smiled faintly at how happy Harry was.

There was a big popping sound, and two figures and about a dozen trunks poured into the room. Harry watched as his friends helped each other get up and dust themselves off. His heart leapt.

"Ron! Hermione!" Harry called out excitedly, feeling as though his heart was about to explode. They turned to him, their faces lit up.

"HARRY!" Hermione shrieked. Before Harry knew it, he was seized around the waist. Bushy brown hair obscured his vision.

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked again, nearly breaking his ribs with her mighty hug. "Oh, Harry, I'm so glad, so happy to see you!"

"Take it easy with him, Hermione!" Ron laughed as he jogged across the room to meet him. "Hey, mate!" Harry couldn't speak from all the joy that was filling him; he could only smile at seeing Ron. He extended out a hand, and Ron took it. He laughed and moved around so he could give Harry a pat on the back.

"Professor Dumbledore's right," Hermione said when she finally had mercy on Harry's ribs, "you look so healthy, Harry!" She looked him over. "You do look more well than when you used to live with the Dursleys!"

"And you've grown...a lot," Ron added, looking surprised.

"I've hit an amazing growth spurt," Harry lied, laughing. He suddenly felt horrible being among them. They didn't know what had happened to him when he first arrived at Grindelwald's manor. They didn't know that he was stuck in this body forever, that he was no longer going to grow physically...

Some day, you won't be here with me, he thought miserably, but he pushed the thought to the back of his mind, grinning at his friends. He had to make use of his limited time with them.

Someone sighed behind him.

"Oh, did you meet Tom yet?" Harry asked. Ron's face suddenly hardened as his eyes landed on Tom. The tense atmosphere was broken when Hermione grabbed Ron's arm and asked Harry if he didn't mind showing them to their rooms. Harry gave a quick glance at Tom before leading his friends out the living room, relieved that nothing had happened between Ron and Tom...yet.

At first, Tom did not notice the change that the visit has triggered in Harry, but he became aware of it as the day dragged by. Harry spent the entire morning showing Ron and Hermione around all parts of the manor to which Tom had given Harry access. He didn't say another word to Tom until it was time for lunch.

Once their eyes met again, Ron's face stiffened. He slouched into his seat without a second look at Tom, but the tension had begun to stir in the air again. Harry took nervous glances between Tom and Ron, seeming to debate with himself if he should say anything. He looked at Hermione for help, but she just shook her head. He nodded, understanding, and instead occupied himself with his lunch.

Annoyed, Tom bit his lower lip angrily. He couldn't start a conversation with Harry in the presence of his two friends. Ginny's irritating brother threw him a brief icy glimpse. Harry sat confused and hurt, stuck between Tom and his friends. The Mudblood girl looked around at all the silent men, wondering how she could break the tension.

"This is...a very nice house," Hermione started. Her voice came out higher than she had intended, and the sound irked Tom.

"Thank you," Tom replied, constraining himself not to hex the girl. Ron looked like he wanted to speak, but the Mudblood grabbed his arm forcefully and motioned him not to speak. Harry smiled weakly at Hermione.

Tom had the impression that Harry couldn't wait until lunch was over. He was the first one to stand when everyone was done and the first to leave, closely followed by Ron and Hermione. Tom sat alone in the dining room, realizing that ever since their arrival, he had not had a proper word with Harry. A strange, ugly feeling began to stir inside him, but he didn't know what it was. He felt upset, as though he had been thrown out into the streets by someone he trusted.

The feeling got worse. He located Harry and his friends in the living room. Somehow, he could not set a foot inside; it was like there was a barrier between them. It was not the magical barriers he had set up around the manor; Harry didn't know the spell. This barrier was caused by his filthy friends' presence. Tom couldn't handle the thought of being there in the room with them, but he couldn't understand why.

"Harry," he called, hoping he could get a private word with him for a least one minute. Harry didn't respond; he was chatting away merrily to his friends, too distracted to know that Tom was behind him. That thought stabbed Tom painfully. "Harry," he called again. No reply; Harry was lost in the little world with his friends. "Harry!" It was Hermione who heard him, and she alerted Harry.

"Yes?" Harry said distractedly, turning around to look at him only briefly.

Tom blinked. To his surprise, he realized that he really had nothing to say to Harry. He just wanted Harry to be with him. "I want a word with you."

"Right now?"

Tom debated with himself and finally said, "It's not absolutely necessary right now."

"Okay, I'll see you when I get the chance." He turned back to his friends and began chatting again as though the brief conversation with Tom had never happened.

Tom was stunned. Harry had always looked forward to speaking with him; why not now? Angry, he stormed to the library and locked himself in. He flopped down on a sofa chair, wondering what Harry saw in those two. They were not as charming, talented, or intelligent as him. They did not deserve all of Harry's attention!

Yet Harry obviously felt something stronger for them than what he felt for Tom. That thought continued to torture Tom in ways he could not understand. He didn't want to be in the same room as them, but he didn't want to be here either.

He heard Harry laughing, and the pain inside him intensified. The sound of Harry's laugh struck a chord in him; he never before realized how much he enjoyed the sound. At first it made him smile, but then the thought that Harry was not with him saddened him. Was it just his imagination, or was Harry more happy when he was with them than when he was with Tom?

Tom covered his face in his hands, confused at his emotions. A part of him wished Harry would be here right now to explain to him what was going on. He looked up to see the portrait of Grindelwald and Aderyn looking at him curiously.

"What's wrong with you today?" Grindelwald asked.

"Harry has his friends over," Tom said, hoping that the old couple could help him. "He's too absorbed in his friends. I don't want to sit with them, but not being with Harry is making me feel terrible."

"You're lonely," Aderyn pointed out, amused.

"Is that what's happening to me?" Tom asked, shocked. He had been alone in his life since he was born, but not once did he feel lonely. If anything, he enjoyed not being tied down by another human. He loved being alone. But now, every time he heard Harry laughing while talking with his friends...

"Go sit with them," Aderyn encouraged.

Tom shook his head. "I cannot handle those two friends of his," he said. "They are not worth any of my time."

"Than what are you going to do?"

"There's not much I can do," Tom said. "Killing them for annoying me will anger Harry. He's very attached to them for reasons I cannot understand, so I will just wait until he tires of them. Friendships like his cannot last a long time."

"You're a fool," Aderyn said, and then she laughed.

Harry wondered what Tom wanted to talk to him about. He was a little surprised that Tom didn't sit with them. Wouldn't he want to know what they were talking about? Wouldn't he see this as a perfect opportunity to spy on what Professor Dumbledore was doing back at Hogwarts?

It's not like I want him to spy on my headmaster, Harry thought, but he's been acting strangely all day.

"Harry," Hermione said, reviving him from his thoughts.

"Sorry, guys," Harry said. "I was just thinking of Tom."

"How can you handle being in the same room as him?" Ron whispered.

"I got used to it, I guess," Harry said. "But, he's been getting better recently. We still argue a lot, and he's very stubborn and cruel most of time, but at least he's not threatening to kill me every minute."

"Do you really think you can change him?" Hermione asked in a quiet voice.

"I don't think I can," Harry admitted. "People stay the same no matter what happens. But he's not going around killing people, is he? I saved you guys from all getting murdered."

"He still has the potential to kill," Hermione pointed out.

"But as long as I'm there next to him, I can stop him," Harry said. "I can control Tom – maybe I'm the only one who can."

"Of course you can," Hermione said, smiling. "You defeated his older self twice."

"I will never forgive him for what he did to Ginny, even if he does change," Ron said, glowering. "I hope he doesn't come close to us for the next few days. He almost spoiled my lunch with his ugly face."

"Ugly?" Harry said, shocked. "I don't think I've ever seen someone more handsome than him, Ron!" He started to laugh. Hermione cracked a smile, eyeing Harry.

"Well, he is!" Ron said defensively. "He's ugly deep inside! Why are you blushing, Hermione?" He looked at her suspiciously.

"Nothing," Hermione said, taking a quick glance at Harry.

"First Lockhart, and now Riddle," Ron said with a disgusted face, shaking his head. Hermione, however, kept smiling.

At Harry's request, Ron tried his best not to start any fights while at the same time not letting Riddle affect his dinner. He acted as normally as possible with the exception that he ignored Riddle. Luckily for him, Riddle looked a little bit ill and left the dining room when they were still halfway through their soups.

Without Riddle around, they talked and laughed in the dining room even after they were done eating. Ron and Hermione recounted all the funny incidents that had happened at Hogwarts since Harry left.

"Neville, Seamus, and Dean miss you loads," Ron said.

"And Parvati and Lavender," Hermione added. "Everyone bought gifts for you. We'll show them to you later today or tomorrow if you want."

"And you should make sure you write a letter to your parents telling them that you're all right," Harry said. They had confessed to Harry after Tom left that they had come without permission.

"We will," Hermione promised.

"Every day in the Great Hall we reserve an empty spot for you," Ron said. "We don't want to feel that you're really gone."

"Really?" Harry said, very touched.

Ron nodded. "I did the same thing for Ginny, but thinking about her hurt so much. Eventually, Percy, Fred, George, and I all agreed that we had to accept that she really is gone." He fell silent, and Harry and Hermione both patted his hand sympathetically.

"Can we go see the library?" Hermione asked. "I haven't taken a look there yet." Ron rolled his eyes; Harry grinned.

"Sure," he said, getting up. He led them down the hallway. "But don't tell anyone you're Muggle-born."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, but her question was answered the moment she stepped inside the library. "Grindelwald!" she said under her breath. She stood up proudly, marched to the nearest bookshelf, and began looking through every book in front of her.

Grindelwald and Aderyn watched the newcomers with interest.

"That is a Weasley," Aderyn announced, pointing at Ron as though she had spotted the source of a bad smell. Grindelwald's eyes turned towards Hermione, who smiled at him.

"Good evening," she said. "I am Pansy Parkinson." Harry and Ron looked at each other and tried not to burst laughing.

"Parkinson!" Grindelwald said, brightening up. "A wonderful family. Produced many talented dark witches and wizards in my time."

Hermione turned towards her friends and smiled.

They spent the remainder of the night lounging in the library. As long as Riddle was not around, Ron didn't mind being in the library. He found a book on jinxes and hexes, and he looked for a good spell he could use on Malfoy and his goons. Hermione read a book on the history of ancient Chinese wizards while Harry just skimmed through the jinx book with Ron.

"We should make sure Tom never knows we looked through this book," Harry said, laughing a little. "He might think we're plotting to turn against him."

"Screw Riddle!" Ron said, turning a page. "You think about him too much." He yawned. "I think I'm ready to turn in."

"Are guests allowed to take the books out of the library?" Hermione asked, glancing at Grindelwald. He smiled proudly down at her.

"For being a daughter of the Parkinson family, you may," he said. Hermione smirked.

"Lovely way of manipulating people, Pansy," Ron teased her as the three of them headed back out of the hallway. "You really may be related to a Slytherin." Hermione gave him a sharp look.

"I have to stop here," Harry told them when they reached his bedroom. The door was closed.

"Isn't that the master bedroom?" Hermione asked, lowering her voice.

"Yes," Harry said.

"So doesn't Tom sleep here?"

Harry bit his lip. "Yeah, he does. I sleep there too."

Ron's eyebrows rose. "Why?"

"Long story," Harry whispered. "Basically, I was imprisoned in this room during my first couples months here."

"Why didn't you get another room after that?"

"I dunno," Harry said, realizing it for the first time. "I guess I don't mind sleeping here." Ron and Hermione looked bewildered. "Well, good night then," he said, smiling before heading inside.

Ron waited until he and Hermione were about to enter into their own rooms. "I'm worried for him," he told Hermione.

"I am too, Ron," Hermione said, "but Harry can protect himself. Goodnight." She went into her room, and, feeling a little uneasy being alone in the dark hallway, Ron entered his room and closed the door, wishing that everyone would make it to the morning.

Tom could not explain how he felt when Harry finally turned in for the night. He was a tangled web of emotions: upset, hurt, angered, relieved, and something else that he could not explain.

"Did you have a good time today?" Tom asked, noting the unsteady tone of his voice.

"Yes," Harry said, looking as though he had just returned from Paradise. He crawled under the sheets, but Tom sat up.

"I want to talk to you about something," Tom said.

"Not now, Tom," Harry said, yawning. "I'm too tired..."

And he was asleep before Tom could respond. He flopped back down on his pillow, resisting the urge to scream for reasons he tried to understand.

The days that followed did not get any better. Tom found himself with the constant urge to shriek and hurt everyone around him in the most painful ways he could imagine. Whenever he saw Harry sit with his friends and chat with them happily, he felt incredibly wounded. Harry was choosing them over him, Tom was sure of it. He spent his days locked up in the library, trying to read but not focusing. He thought that Harry's laughter was more carefree and cheerful than usual; did Harry like Ron and Hermione more than he liked Tom?

Another round of laughter reached the library, and Tom almost cracked the book's spine. Why did he feel this way? He had never worried about someone liking him before in his life. Then again, he didn't need to worry in the past; he was naturally always the center of attention. But Harry was different. Tom always looked forward to talking with him about issues he had never discussed with anyone else, but now thanks to them, he was losing Harry.

Anger boiled in his belly. How dare he neglect me! Tom thought angrily. He should be coming to me! I can teach him everything he needs! I am more talented and intelligent than the brainless lumps he calls friends! How can I be pushed aside because of a lanky weasel and a Mudblood gopher who looks like she's just been struck by lightening?

The worst part was that not once did Harry check up on him. He's neglecting me, Tom thought miserably. He's just like the rest of them...

It was the last day of Ron and Hermione's visit. Over the days they had become more comfortable with sitting around in the dark manor, but before anyone knew it, it was the night before Hogwarts classes were to start again. It was time for them to go back.

"Don't look sad, Harry," Hermione said as she gave him a hug. Tom, who had been standing in the doorway, watching them, twitched irritably at the hug. Nobody noticed it.

"Yeah, mate," Ron said, patting Harry's shoulder. "We'll visit again in the summertime, if it's okay with you." He quickly glanced in Tom's direction.

"Of course it's okay with me!" Harry said, laughing. The three of them moved closer together for an awkward group hug. Tom wanted to break something; the gesture was hurting him beyond belief. He was not part of that small circle; he was an outsider in Harry's life. Harry didn't care for him as much as he cared for precious Ron and Hermione. Tom clenched his teeth.

Leave already! he wanted to scream.

"Well, see you later, mate," Ron said.

"Write back often," Hermione said.

"You know I will," Harry replied. He watched as his friends gathered around their traveling trunks, gripped the tea kettle with one hand, and looked back at Harry for one final time before they disappeared with a big popping sound.

Tom's shoulders relax. They were finally gone.

However, Harry kept looking at the spot they were standing. When he finally turned around, there was a content, faraway look on his face.

"Hi," he said lightly to Tom as he passed by the doorway, making his way up the stairs.

That's all I get?, Tom thought, stunned. A casual greeting as though I'm a stranger? After everything I've done for that ungrateful bastard, after all the personal stories we've shared, that's all I get? That's all I mean to him?

Something snapped inside Tom's mind. Breathing heavily and angrily, he slowly made his way up the stairs, his fingers clenching and unclenching...

The visit was still playing itself in Harry's mind as he took off his robes. He could almost still feel Ron and Hermione close to him, as though they were still there to talk with him. Harry was too lost in his cheery thoughts to be aware of Tom entering the room.

Before he knew what was happening, he felt cold fingers grip him around his neck. He gasped and struggled, but then Tom picked up his naked body and threw him out the door with incredible strength. Harry hit the wall on the other side of the landing, and his arm slashed across a sharp corner of the painting of fruit on the wall. The bedroom door slammed.

Harry's head was spinning, confused at the turn of events. What just happened?

"Tom?" Harry called out. He tried to stop his arm from bleeding. A long gash ran from his elbow to his wrist. "Tom?" Harry got up and pounded on the door, but there was no reply. "Tom, what happened? What's wrong with you?"

Tom wasn't replying. Harry turned around and tried to go down the stairs, but there was a magical barrier preventing him from doing so. He turned the other direction and hit another barrier. He was trapped, naked, in a space only a couple feet wide. It was nearly impossible to imagine that just a few minutes ago, he was warm and hugging his friends. He shivered from the night cold.

"Tom, let me in!" Harry called. "At least give me something to wear!" He paused, waiting. There was still no reply. Harry's heart ached; did he do something to upset Tom? "Tom, what happened? Did I do something? Why aren't you responding? Tom? TOM!"

Tom curled under the warm covers with his face mostly buried in his pillow. He didn't respond to Harry's demands to let him in.

Let him get sick, Tom thought angrily. Oh, if only he could die! How I wish I could kill him right now! Violent images of tearing Harry to a hundred pieces floated in Tom's mind. His long fingernails tore at the mattress.

"Tom, please let me in!" Harry begged. "Talk to me, please! I don't know what happened, but I want to help you!"

No, you don't want to help! Tom thought angrily.

"It's freezing here," Harry said in a quiet voice.

Tom could almost hear Harry's teeth clattered. He smiled.

"I don't want to be cold," Harry said and fell silent.

Tom shifted in his bed. The last part affected him, but he tried to push the words out of his mind. However, as he drifted to sleep, that dreadful feeling returned; his body began to tremble, and a chill ran up his body...he was back in the orphanage, a small child whimpering at the bitter cold and terrified of the dark. A paper-thin blanket was all he had to keep him warm, to protect him...

The scene changed to the cupboard under the stairs. Tom looked down at little Harry as he too trembled in the cold, whimpering in the bitter darkness. Tom's heart ached painfully, the feeling drowning him with fear.

Tom jolted up from his sleep, panting. His body continued to quiver. He was still cold.

I hate this! he thought. I don't want to feel this anymore! He turned his head towards the door. Harry was in the dark, shivering and feeling exactly as how Tom felt at that very moment.

"No..." Tom softly moaned. "No, no..." he sprung up from the bed and pulled the door open. As he did so, the hand that had been touching the door dropped on the threshold. Harry was asleep on the freezing floor, curled up, trying to make himself warm. A thin trail of blood was vaguely visible underneath him. "No..." Tom repeated, shocked at himself. "What have I done?"

Tom gently picked Harry up and carried him to the sofa chair. He wrapped one of the blankets around Harry's shivering body and pulled the wounded arm towards him.

"Tom..." Harry softly moaned, waking up. He looked up at him a little confused. Tom continued to study the wound before meeting Harry's gaze.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. He retrieved his wand and began closing the gash.

"What happened to you?" Harry asked, watching him closely.

"Your friends," Tom simply said, feeling terrible for what he did.

"What about them?" Harry asked.

Tom thought for a moment before saying, "You were so happy with them."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, confused still, but the answer slowly became clear to him.

"Tom...were you...jealous?" Harry asked.

"I think that's what I felt," Tom said. "I...I was worried that you might not like me anymore."

Harry's eyes widened. How could Tom, of all people, worry about Harry liking him? "Worried?"

"Yes," Tom responded, nodding. "You were lost in your own world when you were with them. That world does not include me."

It was Harry's turn to look hurt. "No, I never meant it to look like that!" he said. "I haven't seen Ron and Hermione in a long time! They were the first real friends I ever had in my life, and I was so happy to see them that I..." he was hit with an epiphany. He groaned. "You thought I ignored you, didn't you?" Tom nodded. "Honestly, I didn't mean it! I'm so sorry, Tom!"

"No, I should be the one apologizing," Tom corrected. "Ideas came into my head. I thought that now that they were back in your life, you had no use for me."

Harry's mouth gaped. "That isn't true! Tom...people can love a lot of people. You don't stop becoming friends with someone because you've met your old friends."

"I didn't know that," Tom said, still feeling terrible. "Remember I flunked the subject of love. I sometimes cannot even understand my own emotions, even now. If it wasn't for you, I would never have understood what the importance of having a friend was."

Harry smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Tom. I should have talked with you too. I was caught up in the moment with them, but it changes nothing. I still care about you, Tom." He smiled at him, and Tom felt his heart jump; he was so worried he would never see that smile again, but it was such a silly thought. Harry still wanted to be with him. Why was he so worried?

His eyes traveled up to Harry's eyes, entranced. How he loved their intensity! He brought a hand to Harry's face and felt moisture near Harry's eyes.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he said, not aware that he was drawing closer to Harry. "I made you cry, didn't I?"

Harry absentmindedly cupped Tom's cheeks with his hands. "Don't worry about it," he said gently. "You're still learning and trying to understand everyth-" At that very moment, not aware of what he was doing, Tom's lips brushed against Harry's. He smiled contently as he felt the soft flesh of Harry's lips pressed against his.

And suddenly he became conscious of what he was doing. He pulled away, confused and stunned at what he had just done. Harry just stared at him, shocked; his hands slipped away from Tom's face.

Acting as nonchalantly as he could and not meeting Harry's eyes, Tom got up and slipped under the covers of the bed.

Neither boy exchanged another word. Looking away from each other, they both lay awake, thinking about what had just happened and unaware that the other boy was also still awake.