The Sun Sets Twice Again

Tom had always felt that descending into the dungeons was like entering another world. In some ways it was a more dangerous world, in others it was safer. This place had been his refuge and his prison. It had also, up to now, been the only place in which he felt right, though he could never have told anyone exactly why. For the first time he now entered with a sense of foreboding that had nothing to do with his blood. Veritaserum, truth potion. Once he had taken it he'd be unable to lie, unable to avoid the truth, and he'd be at the mercy of the questions and their answers. If it was any one else than Albus Dumbledore, he wouldn't have agreed. As it was, he still felt sick about it.

Dumbledore was speaking. "The questions will be fairly simple. I'm afraid you won't understand most of them, if you are, indeed, telling the truth about being unable to remember anything. That is what we need to discern, of course."

"Of course." The agreement came out slightly more derisive that it was meant to but the headmaster didn't seem to care.

"If there is anything you do not care to answer say so immediately and another question will be asked."

Tom nodded. That would ensure that he wasn't forced to answer a question he rather not. Worked better than trying to figure out the answers beforehand anyway. "Not our terms, but alright."

"Severus will be asking you the questions. Impartially, of course."

He nodded again, though something in the way Dumbledore had said the last part seemed almost mocking. Dumbledore led him through the stone wall that contained a concealed door, into the Slytherin dorms themselves, then further, down a long corridor to the Head of House's private rooms. Severus, no last name yet given, was the Head of Slytherin House? Tom sighed to himself; this-- most likely-- was not going to be a good thing at all. The old man knocked on a door Tom himself had enter through more than once, though the grumbling noise that came from it was foreign.

The door opened after a minute, revealing a middle-aged man with greasy black-hair and a grimace.

"What is it, Headmaster? I've had a rather trying couple of weeks and I was just attempting to get to sleep..."

"I'm afraid, Severus, that the weeks to come may be ever more trying."

That was when the man noticed him. His eyes, already hostile, narrowed, searching Tom's face.

"Is this who I think it is? If it is what is he doing here?" the man asked. "Or, rather, how? Why did you bring him to me? What's going on, Dumbledore?"

"It seems that Mr. Riddle here got it in his mind to perform the particularly difficult Refici Ego Ipse curse. It didn't go quite as he planned and now we have a rather confused young man on our hands. At least, we do if he is telling the truth," Dumbledore explained calmly.

"I am. Honestly, if I was lying I doubt that I, in any form, would be daft enough to walk back onto these obviously hostile grounds."

Severus was still watching him warily, now sneering as well. "I assume you need me for something, then. Truth serum?"

"Yes, Severus, that is exactly what I was thinking." Dumbledore's tone was light, contrasting the mood held between the two dark-haired men.

Severus nodded shortly and disappeared back into his chambers.

"Well, he seems to dislike me."

"Yes, now he does; I imagine quite a lot. However, he once believed in you. Those whom we raise on high are often the hardest to fall, no?"

Tom understood immediately. The man had once been a Death Eater. He idly wondered what had caused him to become one, and more importantly, what had caused him to turn his back on it? It didn't really matter, he supposed, but it would be an interesting thing to know, if the man was willing to talk. Just then Severus reappeared, fully dressed and still sneering, looking at Tom with a mixture of confusion and disgust. No, Tom decided, the man would most likely not be up for a little chat at all, no matter the subject. He also intended to read a book on his rise to power as soon as this was over, as he still wasn't certain why anyone would willingly follow him, especially a Slytherin.

Dumbledore and Severus were talking to each other in quiet tones. Tom grimaced; his concentration was shot--any other time he would have been carefully noting what they were saying to each other. As it was he didn't get the chance because they suddenly stopped talking.

"The base question will be your name," Severus snapped. "Come on."

Tom followed the two professors quietly, vaguely noting that they were heading in the direction of the potions classrooms-- that made sense considering the potion would most likely be in the Potion Master's private stores. He followed them into a office that held a darkness that didn't quite recede when the lamp on the desk was turned on. This is pleasant, Tom thought sarcastically, if ones going for the tall, dark, and psychotic feel. He managed to refrain from making this comment aloud, though it was tempting. He was mildly surprised to notice that he, in no way, felt threatened by a man who was, by all means, intimidating. This was much the same way he'd felt disdain for Malfoy and disgust at the mere sight of Pettigrew. Some minor part of his subconscious still recalled what his older self remembered of these men, and he reacted accordingly. In his time as a student, which was rapidly seeming much farther away, he would have taken care to not upset the Potion Master, especially one as blatantly unfriendly as this one. Now, however, he mostly didn't care.

At least he didn't care until the man unlocked a cabinet and withdrew a potion vial filled with a surprisingly clear liquid. Veritaserum. Tom ignored the urge to physically shudder and smiled politely.

"Are we going to do this here, Professor...?" He trailed off, waiting for the Slytherin to provide a last name; when none came he added, "Severus."

The greasy haired man scowled angrily while Professor--Headmaster--Dumbledore merely looked amused.

"I think here will do nicely, don't you, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, eyes twinkling.

"Fine." He looked over at Tom as if waiting for something, then sighed and gestured to the chair. "Well, sit."

Tom forced himself to smile and then sit, very nonchalantly, in the offered chair. He'd been in enough unpleasant situations to recognize one and was suddenly very certain that Veritaserum hurt quite a bit. The Professor summoned a glass of something and uncapped the vial, carefully adding three drops of the potion, and then handed it to him. For the first time the man smiled. Oh, yes, this was going to be bad.

The cup was filled with hot chocolate. If he hadn't been swallowing a potentially dangerous substance, he probably would have found that funny. It didn't taste horrible, as one might expect, which didn't cure his fears at all. After all, just because something doesn't taste or look bad doesn't mean that it isn't. That's just common sense. He was relieved that after a minute he seemed to be fine. Then Severus spoke in a voice that seemed disconnected, surreal, not quite there...what is your full name...He replied without thinking, 'Tom Marvolo Riddle'. He couldn't be sure he had spoken aloud; he could hear himself speak but he couldn't tell if it was only in his mind.

Then the next question 'what is your age' came and he replied 'fifteen'. 'What is your birthday' 'March 15th'. 'Where are you' 'Hogwarts'. 'What is your name' 'Tom Marvolo Riddle'. 'Who is Lord Voldemort' 'A name.' 'Who am I' 'Don't know'. 'What am I' 'A Death Eater'. 'What is a Death Eater' 'Follower of Lord Voldemort'. 'What is your name' 'Tom Marvolo Riddle'. 'What year is it' 'Not sure'. 'What is the last thing you remember' 'Drinking the Veritaserum'How old are you' 'Fifteen'. 'Are you Lord Voldemort' 'Yes'. 'Who is Lord Voldemort' 'A name'. 'Who is Snape' 'Don't know'. 'Who is Lucius Malfoy' 'A Malfoy'. 'Where is the Chamber of Secrets' 'Haven't figured that out'. 'What is in the Chamber' 'Not sure'. 'Can you speak to snakes' 'Of course'. 'Who is Peter Pettigrew. 'An idiot'. 'Who are the Death Eaters' 'Followers of Voldemort'. 'What is your name' 'Tom Marvolo Riddle'. 'What year should it be' '1941'. 'Who are the Potters' 'Don't know'. 'What does Harry Potter mean to you' 'Nothing'. 'What is your name' 'Tom Marvolo Riddle'. 'Who is your father' 'A bastard'. 'Who is Albus Dumbledore' 'Professor at Hogwarts'. 'How old is Dumbledore' 'A hundred and two'. 'Do you use Dark Magics' '...'. 'Do you use Dark Magics' '...'.

He didn't want to answer that. He didn't want to answer that. Pain flared through him, like thousands of needles puncturing him, trying to bleed the information out. He didn't want to answer that. He didn't want to answer that.

'Do you use Dark Magics?' Softly, roughly, his ears were ringing; he forced out 'Define dark'. Then he threw up, though it was probably more from the pain than the inherent desire to rid himself of the substance already in his veins.

"Tom? Tom?" Dumbledore's voice was concerned. That was something that Tom suddenly found incredibly funny.

He laughed quietly before shaking his head. "I'm fine."

Careful to avoid the mess he had made, he moved the chair back and turned to face the worried old man. "Professor Dumbledore, I'm fine, really. I just didn't want to answer that question." He smiled complacently.

"So, you resisted."

Tom's expression darkened and he nodded shortly. "Obviously not well enough."

Dumbledore looked surprised.

"I still answered," Tom commented, "a question that I didn't want to."

Dumbledore nodded, mumbling to himself, the only parts of which Tom caught were 'amazing strength...will...Gryffindor pride...' and he might have been wrong about those as the old man had gotten up and was walking away from him as he spoke. Even if what he had heard was entirely correct Tom decided to ignore the last bit . He opened the door to the hallway and walked out, not casting a single glance back at Tom, and with one last look at the now quietly seething Potions Master, Tom followed him, glad to escape that room and the expression on Severus' face.

"A house-elf will clean up Severus' office, do not worry."

Tom hadn't actually been worried about that, though he supposed he should have been. Instead he was thinking about the Veritaserum, both his inability to resist answering and whether or not Dumbledore had believed it effective. He fell in step next to his transfigurations teacher, though he supposed as Headmaster Dumbledore no longer taught the class--not that you could be certain about things like that where Dumbledore was concerned.

"Sir?"

"I believe you, Tom. Which puts us in quite the interesting position, don't you think?" Dumbledore smiled.

Actually, Tom wouldn't have described it as 'interesting', but then again, the way he cared to describe it wasn't something he'd say in front of the Pr- Headmaster, at any rate.

"Interesting, yes," he agreed.

"So, I do believe that getting you an identity is in order then? I still need to owl the Hunters for their permission, of course," Dumbledore said lightly, as if he expected no problem from these Hunters. "Until I receive their response nothing can be done. That will be tomorrow morning. For tonight you will stay at the castle; arrangements can be made. I think we shall place you in Ravenclaw for the night as I doubt Severus will be happy to run into you so soon. No matter, we'll attend to this after dinner. I have no doubt you want to head for the library at this moment, anyway."

Tom scowled; fifty years and he was still so predictable. "Yes, sir."

"I will see you at six then, for dinner."

Tom nodded. He wasn't certain what the time currently was but he more than likely could get through a book or so before dinner. With that the Headmaster disappeared behind his gargoyle and Tom headed for the library, hoping that it was still in the same approximate place as it had always been. After all, sometimes portraits, especially ones at Hogwarts, liked to lie.

* * *

As it turned out, the library, like the Headmaster's office, was in the same general area that it had been when he was a student, and he reached it after only one wrong turn because of a moving staircase. Pushing the doors to the library open he entered quietly. He'd spent so much of his time at Hogwarts here. Mostly he studied and created plans and made use of the neutral atmosphere of the area. It was a world among itself, where it didn't really matter what his blood was or the color of his robes or anything so...inducing. Books were neutral, like power. The fact that he found darkness neutral as well was carefully edited out between his thoughts and what he put down on scrolls. He was considering these memories when he tripped over something laying in the middle of the library floor.

"Ow," the something replied. "Watch where you'll going, will ya?"

He glanced down. The 'something' was a girl. A girl lounging half-way across a pillow, a book held up above her face, reading. A girl who wasn't even looking at him, despite the fact that he'd probably just kicked her in the ribs. Didn't matter, he had books to find.

"Sorry," he muttered, walking away. He nearly ran into a book cart. That was enough for him to begin wondering if maybe there had been a sedative in the chocolate as well, or at least a Clumsy Charm. He heard the girl snicker behind him; he decided to ignore her.

He wandered into the high stacks of books, searching for the section on Dark Activities. When he'd been in school he'd avoided the section after his first year,-- though not obviously,-- to avert suspicion, but because of that he remembered where it was supposed to be--and where it was. Picking up a random book, entitled, amusingly, He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.

They're all so afraid of a name? Irrational things, he thought, laughing to himself.

After taking a few others like The Reign of Terror, The Defeat of You-Know-Who, Harry Potter: The Boy-Who-Lived, he sat down at a nearby table and began to skim them. None of them had the details he was looking for, though it was interesting that there were twenty-five years missing between his finishing Hogwarts and the appearance of Lord Voldemort. He sighed; this information was useless. Most of it he'd already gathered in general from the conversation with Dumbledore. Anything truly useful was bound to be locked up in the Restricted Section, or worse, Dumbledore's head. The librarian was different as well, so the chances of her allowing him in the Restricted Section without a pass were nearly non-existent. He sighed again for a different reason, it had suddenly occurred to him he'd have to remake all the connections that he had gathered in Hogwarts the first time, and now he only had three years to do it.

"All right?" It was the girl again. Except now she wasn't laying down; she was sitting on a chair directly across the other side of the table, peering at him curiously .

"Not really," he replied. That wasn't what he meant to say. He paused, considering, when it hit him: the Veritaserum was still in his system. Oh, wonderful, this is just bloody wonderful. Why don't I go explain I'm an evil dark lord to Peeves next, then everyone's sure to know. It'd certainly be quicker.

"What's wrong?"

Tom forced himself to consider his answer carefully. He was skilled at lying and everyone knew that the best lies had a sense of truth to them.

"I'm working on something and it's just not coming together." There; that was the truth, as long as she didn't ask anymore questions. "I didn't know other students were going to be here. It's still a fortnight until term, is it not?"

She made an odd face but nodded. "Yeah. My mum's the new DADA teacher. I've been here a week now, without a soul to talk to that isn't over forty--aside from my brother."

Tom smiled and nodded. I need to give a name, before she asks and I can't lie. Something that doesn't mean anything to me...

It was half a dozen names before he ran across that one he could use.

"The name's Lucas." He nodded again, offering his hand.

She took it. She had a strong, steady grip, especially for a girl, and smiled.

"Lucas, Bringer of Light. You look more like a dark angel to me." She paused, pulling her hand away, and grinned. "I'm Artemis." She made a face. "Full name because it really has no decent nicknames. Not that my mother thought of that. Then again, she named my brother Apollo, so I suppose I got the better end of the deal."

Artemis; she doesn't look like her name-sake, Tom thought inanely. Actually, with the small, somewhat sharp features and nearly white blond hair, even though it fell in loose curls, she looked distinctly like a Malfoy.

"Are you a Malfoy?" The words were out of his mouth much too quickly to take back.

"Actually a Moirae, but people make the mistake more than you'd think." She glanced at his expression. He could only imagine he looked chagrined. "I'm not offended. My grandmother was a Malfoy. I have a distant cousin at this school, I think. I don't know; we don't really associate with that side of the family much. Self-important gits." She laughed. "I'm not supposed to say that; tolerance and all that bull, according to my mother. Anyone with a bit of sense who's met that family can see it though. She just doesn't like me saying it aloud."

"I've met some Malfoys, actually."

"Figured you had, way you were looking at me like I'd grown another head. A snotty, sarcastic one with really sharp teeth, at that. So, you go to Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

"Cool."

Cool? Tom shook his head, but was saved from responding by the library doors opening.

"Artemis?"

"In here, Mum."

"I need you to come with me on an errand."

"Alright." She stood, straightening her clothes, which Tom just noticed were definitely Muggle clothing, --quite possibly male Muggle clothing--, and smiled at him. "It was nice talking to you. See you later."

"Goodbye."

Then she was gone. Tom went back to reading his books.