The Sun Sets Twice Again

Chapter Sixteen

Collecting Artemis and bringing her down to the safe room was simple. Harry hung around the entrance to the library while Tom went over and said something to her. Whatever he said prompted her to grab the book she had been reading, place it back on the shelf, and come with them.

Getting Tom to talk once they were in the safe room was another matter entirely. As far as Harry could tell, Tom was determined to sulk and he had the impression that Tom could sulk until everyone *else* was blue in the face if properly motivated. He sighed.

Finally, after a full minute and a half of silence, Harry said, "This cannot leave this room. At all, Artemis. Lives and freedoms depend on it. Whether you know it or not you're guilty of a number of crimes just by being aware of his real name and not immediately summoning an auror. You understand that?"

Artemis frowned, then nodded. "Who is he?"

Harry sighed again. She had no idea how complicated that question was.

"So, you know he's Tom Riddle? What do you know about Tom Riddle, though?" Harry asked.

She shrugged. "Prefect, got a special service award at the end of his fifth year, Head Boy. That's not all of the story, obviously. Oh, and apparently he was Muggle-born."

"Half-blood," Tom corrected quietly. The insulted tone in his voice made Harry pause.

It didn't do the same for Artemis, who replied, "Pretty much the same thing."

"Not the same thing at all, especially in my case."

Anger surged through the bond, controlled but seething. If Tom hadn't been so angry, the second worst Harry had seen him since the other boy had ended up back at Hogwarts, it would almost have been funny that this was what set him off. As it was, Harry cared to get through this conversation in one piece and without anyone being hexed or obliviated.

Harry decided to cut off this line of conversation before it really got started. "Tom isn't from the past, in case that's what you were thinking. He's independent of the Tom that went to school here 50 years ago. He's also not his older self, though now his older self doesn't really exist anyway-- well he exists but not the way he did exist...er...it's complicated. Uh, of course it's complicated. What I mean is there was this charm and it turned his older self back into his younger self, memories, body, and all, and that's who Tom is now. This Tom, that is, not the one that was here 50 years ago."

"How did that work? There's no charms like that. Well, at least none that anyone is mad enough to try."

Tom glowered. "I doubt it was the most dangerous thing I attempted on myself. You're right though, the charm was dangerous. Archaic as well. I think I know why my...other self decided to attempt it however and, more importantly, what he believed it would do. Regardless, it was both attempted and successful, if not succeeding in the original intention."

"So, who are you? I assume it's the 'older self' part that makes my knowing who you are so important."

Tom frowned, obviously trying to think of how to say it. No explanation was forthcoming, but Harry couldn't blame him for that.

Harry took out his wand. "He's Tom Marvolo Riddle." He spoke a charm under his breath. The name appeared in the air. They were black, a neutral colour for the two of them. It was a relatively simple trick, something learned in third year. "He is Tom, that is, the person in front of you is Tom. Who he became or who he was, depending on how you look at it, isn't the important part of this at all. If it was, I'd have killed him by now, against Dumbledore's orders or not. But you're right, the other part, the future--his future, our past--"

And my perpetual present.

"--self is the reason why this is all so dangerous and important to keep quiet. Very important."

"I wouldn't tell," Artemis said. "I won't tell."

She sounded like she meant it, her pale face serious. Harry would have frowned if he hadn't already been frowning. He could feel agitation in the bond but he couldn't tell if it was his own or Tom's.

Tom drew his wand as well, muttering the completion of the charm. As the letters, the names, floating in the air rearranged themselves Harry knew that Tom was picturing the words.

'I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.'

Artemis' eyes went wide. "Putain de merde." She shook her head. "No. Just not possible. You-Know-Who? No."

"Voldemort, and yes, well, sort of."

Tom moved to put his wand back where it slid up his sleeve and Artemis watched him warily.

"Is everyone like this?" Tom seemed torn between being amused and annoyed.

Harry shook his head. "I expected a much worse reaction."

"This is mad." That was Artemis, of course.

Tom sighed. "You can ask Dumbledore, but I assure you, I created that name about three months--my time, of course, so over 52 years for you--ago, and I am the one who gave Harry that scar. All evidence then leads to the conclusion that my older self was, in fact, Lord Voldemort."

Artemis looked like someone had slapped her, and she sat back in the chair she was occupying, Tom in the other chair and Harry standing between them, a stunned expression on her face. However, less than a minute later it was covered, and she was faintly smiling.

"Oh, that's wicked," she said finally.

Harry, who had been watching Tom's seemingly pleased reaction to Artemis', shifted his focus back to the blond girl suddenly.

"What?" Harry snapped.

Tom was fully smiling himself, now. He wondered if Tom had managed to do some sort of magic on Artemis that he just hadn't seen.

"There wasn't a major mark against him in anything I read. A perfect record all the way through, and by perfect I mean there were just enough infractions that he didn't seem to be purposely on absolute best behaviour. And you say you were already starting to build the Dark Lord persona? Brilliant. Totally fucking brilliant. Worthy of Slytherin."

Tom grinned, laughing. It was the first time Harry had seen him laugh in a manner that seemed entirely friendly. Any anger from earlier had disappeared. "Well, it should be. I'm his Heir."

"A half-blood Heir of Slytherin. Irony abounds. Never was a fan of irony." She paused, the smile dropping a little. "I'm assuming since Dumbledore's allowing you stay here that you're under some sort of wizard's pact."

Did everyone know about those things but him? Harry wondered.

"Something like that. Needless to say, I've been deemed non-dangerous."

"By Dumbledore."

"By Dumbledore." Tom nodded.

"And, from the looks of it, you've yet to try to kill Harry."

"And I'm not intending to. Can't say he hasn't attacked me though."

Artemis raised an eyebrow. Harry blushed.

"It was provoked."

Tom snorted. "By my existence."

"You said yourself you found it justified," Harry replied.

"So I did. My existence is very trying on you."

"Well, you're a very aggravating person."

Tom grinned. "Yes, and you in no way like me."

Harry flushed again but shook his head. "In much the same way I like Snape, maybe."

Tom made a face. "That man is a right bastard."

"My point exactly." Harry grinned.

Artemis snickered.

"What?" Tom asked.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing of importance at all."

She had that look that girl's get when they think you fancy one of your friends, like the ones that Lavender gave Ron and Hermione after the whole Yull Ball thing. Harry frowned. Why would she look like that? He shook his head; not the time to think on that.

"Right. You're okay with this, then? Or at least you're not going to call the aurors on Tom?"

"Okay with it? Sure, I'm perfectly fine with a psychopath wandering the same halls as me. But am I going to tell? Tell and incur the wrath of Albus Dumbledore? No, thank you. I'm not stupid and I'm insulted you suggest that I was."

Harry felt something relax in the bond, which he was fairly certain was Tom and not himself, though he was still having difficulties separating his own emotions, let alone which ones weren't his, and Tom moved his arms apart, resting each on an armrest instead. With that Artemis relaxed a bit as well. Harry frowned.

"How did you know?" Tom's voice was hard again, all joking gone, but not angry like he had been earlier.

Artemis grimaced. "The quick version or historically?"

"The complete version." Tom frowned, looking over at him. "Why aren't you sitting in a chair?"

Harry shook his head. "Two chairs."

"Two chairs? Merlin. There's only four separate ways to make a chair appear in this room, you realize. Well, obviously you don't realize."

Wand out, incantation muttered--he never spoke louder than he had to-- and a chair appeared next to his, between him and Artemis. Harry sat.

"So, if you're half-blood then, why did you grow up in the Muggle world?"

"That's something I would rather not discuss, if you don't mind." The anger was back in minor. The comment wasn't a question, definitely. "As well, changing the subject is really ineffectual here."

Artemis shrugged. "Worth a try."

Harry nearly shook his head. Angering Tom in this sort of situation wasn't worth trying to change the subject. If nothing else, Tom was persistent. She couldn't know that, though, right?

"The Moiraes are pure-blooded in the way that the lines are so inner-done that we tend to either have geniuses, seers, or otherwise magically strong children, or the children just...disappear. Supposedly that no longer happens, but everyone knows that's a lie. There's a lot of dangerous things in the magical world and not any real child protection services. Anyway, so, we're old. Like before the Founders old, though I can personally only track my lines back about thirty-six generations. Mostly that's an issue of paperwork and who knows how much of it was constructed incorrectly. Still, the Moiraes share key magical signatures with a number of ancient seers, and because of it, because that's part of the line, we have had many seers ourselves. At first, apparently, it was one every generation or every other one. The numbers have gone down as the magical world as a whole has merged with the Muggle world, or maybe because the Muggle world is over-running everything. Either way, pure-blood isn't so pure anymore and is too complicated, leading to flaws, to jumps in the line. There hasn't been a seer in the Moirae family for six generations--until me.

"I didn't get anything useful, like clairvoyance or pre-cognizance. No prophecies, no futures, no predictions. Just...memories. Then again, memories are dangerous things, in the wrong hands. There's no such thing as too much information, at least, not when you're the one with it."

Tom frowned. "I wouldn't threaten me, Artemis, if I were you."

"Wouldn't dream of it." She looked down at the floor. "Dreams...that's how it works. I get the memories in dreams." She paused, looked back up. "I wouldn't bother putting Dreamless Sleep Potion in my things, all that'll do is make me sleep longer."

"Then you can't control it," Tom said. It sounded like an accusation. A triumphant feeling crossed through the bond.

Artemis flinched slightly. Tom smiled. Harry got the feeling he was mentally saying 'Checkmate'.

* * *

"No talking about it, then."

"I already agreed to that," Artemis snapped.

"Just making certain," Tom said, smiling. "Either of you hungry?"

"A little."

Harry shook his head, to which Tom shot him a look. Here Harry thought Hermione was going to be the one he had to convince he was eating regularly, but Tom was observant and seemed to have this persistent desire to make certain he was eating, sleeping, and everything healthily. The boy was worse than Mrs. Weasley.

"Where did you get a mothering instinct?" Harry asked as they exited the room. The wall closed up behind them.

Tom frowned. "What? I care whether you're trying to starve yourself to death. It's just some friendly concern."

"Thanks for the concern, but I don't need it and you're not my friend."

"And as soon as you finish two decent meals in a day I'll actually believe that you don't need it. As for friends? Fine. It's some selfish concern in case you dying ends up with me dead. That's friendly enough if you're too Gryffindor to be friends with a Slytherin."

"It's not about Gryffindor and Slytherin," Harry replied, frowning.

"Isn't it? Aren't I what you never want to be but are actually capable of? Isn't that the problem with my being friendly, because what happens if you end up liking me?"

"Go away."

"Make me. You have a wand."

"Ow! Walls aren't supposed to open like that!" Artemis exclaimed.

"They do that in Hogwarts. Everyone knows that, and if you watched where you're going it wouldn't matter when they did," a voice drawled.

Harry stopped glaring at Tom and turned to where Artemis had stopped, hoping that he was hearing things, even if hearing things was bad even in the wizardry world. No such luck. Standing there was Draco Malfoy, glaring at Artemis, a sneer on his face. Well, it certainly looked like Malfoy at least. Blond hair, grey eyes, sneer; the stance was arrogant, and the voice sounded the same, if a little older, but if possible the boy was paler than normal and his hair was a mess, which Harry hadn't ever seen it be, and his robes were wrinkled. There were dark circles under his eyes as well. He looked like he had been through his own personal Hell and Harry only needed one guess to figure out why.

"Well, if you didn't walk out into the halls without looking, you wouldn't have run into me."

"I didn't run into you," Draco said to her.

"Sure, and I'm a fucking veela," Artemis snapped.

"Well, you certainly have the looks and the attitude." Draco sneered.

"I resent that! I don't look like a stupid blonde."

"And I, amazingly, don't care."

Artemis turned towards Harry and Tom. "Is this the Malfoy?"

Harry nodded. Tom sneered.

"Hey. At least talk to me if you're going to use an insulting tone about me." He paused. "Potter? Oh, Merlin. The universe hates me."

"It seems to be justified."

Draco ignored Artemis' comment and continued ranting to himself. "My life isn't bad enough right now, Potter has to be at Hogwarts early. Can't even go an entire fucking summer without seeing the git."

"Hey!" Harry seemed to have found his voice finally. "Listen, I know you're life is pretty bad right now, and I'm sorry about your father, really I am, but..." He stopped, then started again. "No, I'm just sorry. No one deserves to lose a parent, even you, even if he's not dead."

"Apologizing, Potter? How very Gryffindor. Don't bother. We both know my father was a Death Eater and you're fucking happy he's gone. Don't pretend you care. It's insulting and I'm not in the mood to take the insult today. Just stay out of my way, I'll stay out of yours, and if I'm lucky, you'll be dead by the end of the year. Merlin knows you have a death wish."

Harry frowned. "I was just trying to--"

"Be polite? Maybe you should work on your manners then. Not that there's much hope for you."

"Maybe you should work on yours," Artemis said. "At least he has an excuse. You were raised by Muggles, right, Harry? Your having manners at all is shocking." Artemis scowled. "American Muggles are the worst. No concern for custom at all. But English Muggles aren't much better."

Draco sneered. "I didn't catch your name."

"I didn't offer it. Artemis Moirae."

"Moirae? You're the daughter that caused all the fuss with funds?"

"That's me. What happened with your father?"

Draco's expression darkened and what little colour he had during the conversation left completely, except the shadows. His voice was tight when he said, "That's not very polite."

"We've stepped on each other, been introduced, and I'm not much in the mood for polite today," Artemis replied in a matter-of-fact sort of tone. Harry resisted the urge to snicker.

"Then it's none of your business."

"Fair enough. Where were you headed?"

"The kitchens."

"Us as well. Well, except Harry. He was trying to get out of it."

"Right. I'm not going," Harry said.

"You need to eat."

"I feel like flying. I'll be out on the pitch if anyone needs me. Bye."

Harry started back down the hall, heading in the direction that he was fairly certain would lead up and out. He could hear Tom following him but not Artemis. Harry frowned. Well, at least he was going to get to see how Tom flew.