The Sun Sets Twice Again

Chapter Nineteen

Harry sat with Artemis and Tom in a rarely used classroom, drinking pumpkin juice. Mostly Harry was listening to the two of them discuss Tom's new persona and the possible politics of the current Slytherin house. It sounded overly complicated to him, but maybe that was just because he had never paid much attention to the Slytherins who weren't constantly in his face and the ones that were all seemed the same--like Draco and lackeys. Apparently there was this whole system that might or might not still be in affect, from what Tom said and Artemis had gotten from Draco. He took another sip of pumpkin juice as Tom returned to his current obsessive topic.

"Remember, you're not to mention anything about my connection to Tom Riddle or Voldemort, Artemis," Tom said.

"I know. I knew it when you said that the last four times as well. I don't know *why*, but I know it all the same."

"Why?" Tom shook his head. "Because it can't get out."

Artemis shrugged. "Obviously, but why can't it get out? It was an accident."

Tom muttered something under his breath that sounded angry while Harry shook his head.

"It just *can't*. I mean, if it does it'll cause a panic at best," Harry said, trying to explain.

"A panic? This boy would cause all that? Or, rather, his future self?"

"Yes."

"But why?"

"Because I'm the epitome of all evil to half these people and merely deathly frightening to the rest?" Tom suggested.

"What? Weren't you a politician? From a radical faction? That's what my father says."

"A what?" Harry asked. "No. Just no. Voldemort is bleedin' You-Know-Who."

"You-Know-Who? Like le grand mechant loup? A fake monster."

"What?"

"It's a monster. A nightmare. Um...I think the term is boogie-man? Just something to frighten small children. If you don't learn your letters and eat your vegetables and be a good little pure-blood You-Know-Who will come to get you. Voldemort and You-Who-Know are the same?"

"You didn't know that?"

"In France You-Know-Who is a powerful wizard who gets bad people, or children, or something close to that. I don't know, they started teaching that tale after I was too old to listen. Voldemort was a radical who caused a major up stir in the English magical community in the years before I was born. The year I was one he disappeared, said to be defeated by a small child named Harry Potter, which, of course, is you. Merely an accident of luck that no one could explain. My father was rather angry, in his memories at least, because he agreed with Voldemort, I believe." She shook her head. "I don't know. I was very small."

Tom nodded to himself. "That's why you reacted so calmly," he said quietly.

"Is this a big thing? There's obviously something I'm missing." She frowned.

"Every magical child, and most adults, is afraid of Voldemort. In Britain, at least. They call him You-Know-Who. Well, not Dumbledore, or Professor Lupin, or Sirius, but the others. Snape called him the Dark Lord, actually, still...most everyone. It's not a nightmare, it's real, and people live in fear of the new reign of Voldemort, which I suppose isn't going to happen now with Tom being here in his place and all."

"You say Voldemort," Artemis replied, peering at Harry in confusion. He could sympathize with that.

"Calling him You-Know-Who gives the idea of him more power, according to Dumbledore. I grew up with Muggles, anyway, so I didn't even know he existed until I was eleven."

"This is very odd. So, Voldemort was some evil force?"

Tom cut in then. "No, I *was* a political radical. Well, I intended to be. Voldemort was at least, if he was me and I him."

"That's confusing."

"More so from my position."

"You wanted the world to fear you. You said so in the chamber!" Harry objected.

"The chamber?" Artemis asked.

Tom ignored her. "Fear is a very powerful motivator, Harry, and easily turned in its focus."

"That makes no sense."

"It makes every sense if you're willing to sacrifice a few along the way, which you, it seems, aren't. Gryffindor nobility and all that. The only thing you sacrifice is your enemies on an altar of self-righteousness."

Harry frowned. "I think what you just said is hypocritical, though I can't prove how."

"I'm not being self-righteous, just determined in a cause. I can at least rationalize my cause," Tom said with a sigh.

"Muggle-borns must die. Real rational there," Harry said, nearly sneering at the other boy. There wasn't rationale, just pain and death.

"Which just proves the existence of misinformation that obviously has been put against me by the self-anointed 'light' side. If your best argument is 'because he's evil!' then you have serious flaws in your ideology. I can name half a dozen 'evil' things the so-called light side perpetuates daily. They're merely being quiet about it." He shook his head. "'Nothing wrong here, nothing to see, just move it along,'" Tom said mockingly before resuming his serious tone. "The light side is complete, self-serving bollocks. The wizardry world's policies on a whole are corrupt and either self-defeatist or destructive; they're keeping vital information from where it needs to be. What is reported is falsified and propagandized, and all of this would be okay if the system was succeeding but they're barely managing to run things. They're unwilling to change where change is needed and so they need to be altered. By any means necessary.

"Occasionally, if you're fortunate, someone who truly wants to help comes along, like Professor Dumbledore, and manages to change a few things before being declared a heretic or a traitor or a dark lord or just plain mad. That doesn't make the system less flawed however, does it? Less destructive and useless? Less blind? No. Dumbledore wants to change things through peace and that's worthless because it's not going to work. It wouldn't, and didn't, work when I was a student here fifty years ago and it's not going to work *now*. A new system is in order and to manage that blood is going to be spilled and terror is going to be caused. It's a necessary action to establish a better system. Revolutions weren't accomplished by leaders already in power, but by radicals with a desire to fix the world, or at least their nation. That's all I want, to fix things, and I have the ability to do it."

"You're wrong. There's better ways to fix things," Harry said.

"Am I? Are there? What exactly do you know about the situation, Harry, that wasn't told to you by Dumbledore? How much has Dumbledore even told you besides 'Voldemort bad, Dumbledore good'? Tell me, what exactly do you know that you thought for yourself instead of just...accepting." Tom looked unconcerned, except for the rhythm tapping of his long fingers against the table surface. It was something Tom did when he was annoyed but not angry.

"I know that Voldemort killed my parents, that's enough." Harry said, nearly banging his cup down on the wooden table.

Tom raised his cup of pumpkin juice towards Harry and said, "Then here's to revenge, instead of altruism."

Harry felt an emotion he refused to name flood over him and he glanced at Tom's watch, as he still didn't have a replacement for his own ruined one, and stood. "They're going to be here in ten minutes. I'm going to go wait."

They, of course, were Ron and Hermione, whom he was anxious to see, as well as dreading it. He, personally, had no idea how he was going to keep this from them, only that it was very important that he did.

He picked up his cup and started to leave, as he did he heard Artemis ask if something wrong, and Tom replied, "No. What's a little spat between sworn enemies?"

* * *

"Harry," Tom said quietly from behind him.

Harry looked over his shoulder to see Tom leaning up against the wall outside the Great Hall's open doors, facing him with a carefully blank expression, and continued pacing.

"What, Tom?"

"It's Lucas now."

Harry frowned. "Not until they arrive."

"You can't slip up. I can charm--"

"No," Harry said firmly. "I won't slip up."

The hallway fell silent except for the tapping of Harry's shoes against the stone floor.

"This...," Tom started to say, then stopped before starting again. "You can't let this get to you. I know it already is, but you need to discover a way in which you can balance these aspects. Otherwise it's merely going to alienate you from your friends and you'll make yourself miserable that way."

"Or alienate me from you."

"No, the magic won't let them take precedence over me, Harry. Not at this point. You have a choice now, as always, deal or do not, but not dealing is fairly unpleasant isn't it?"

"What do you mean 'the magic won't let them'?"

"I said what I meant," Tom said shrugging. "You obviously don't have a particularly large amount of control over your magic, as witnessed by the fact that you still can't control the bond except in times of stress. Between the wizards' pact and the bond I most seriously doubt that you could chose them over me, even if you made a conscious decision to do so. This is only going to get worse, you realize, quite possibly much worse. Because of my resurrection, and *then* my return to this form, mind, and memory...whatever was originally keeping the two of us separated since that All Hallows' Eve seems to be...disintegrating, for lack of a better term. At first I thought that we were merely connected to each other, through a bond with very definite limits and controls, however this hasn't proven to be the case. I can feel it changing on us already, becoming less clear and more a blending our own distinct personalities. It's quite possible that not only will this disintegration not end at emotions but that we're going to be facing a mutation of our inherent abilities."

Harry frowned. "But the emotions are clearer. It's been two distinct sets of emotions -- yours and mine -- without any of them getting mixed together anymore; ever since that night we-- well, since then-- everything has been clearer."

"As I said: mutated. The emotions are clearer, certainly, but you've - quite accidentally, as it happens - superceded the wards I've put up a number of times. I decided to test that and I've found that I'm capable of spells I never had any particular aptitude for before, such as the Expecto Patronus incantation. We may have very well found an emotional balance only to be vexed by our magic...," Tom trailed off then, with a shake of his head, continued, "or perhaps this is going to be a positive change. Regardless, my original point - that your magic is rather attached to mine - remains."

Harry didn't get a chance to reply because he could hear the horseless carriages approaching. Tom immediately straightened from where he was half-slouched against the wall and looked for the source of the sound.

"You remember the plan?"

"Do you honestly think you're the only one who can remember anything?" Harry asked.

"No, however it's safer if I merely assume that I am the only competent one."

Harry sighed. "Yes, I remember the plan."

"I'm still not certain how I'm supposed to recognize the Weasley girl. Small, red-headed, many freckles, along with a two-year-old picture is a rather vague description to go off of."

"She's the only red-headed Gryffindor girl around her age. She's also the only person who's going to know you. It's simple." Harry shrugged.

"Simple, until it all comes undone at least. I really dislike the vagueness of this entire escapade."

"None of the more detailed stuff would work, though, right? So, this is what we have. Just...don't think about it too much."

"The Gryffindor motto," Tom said, a sneer on his face.

"You wouldn't like to know what I think the Slytherin one is," Harry replied, smiling. He bit at his nails nervously. "See you in a few minutes."

"Yes."

Harry looked back at Tom one last time before turning to search the approaching crowd for his friends. Ron, with his blazing red hair and height - he had to be at least two metres by now, was easy to spot, and Hermione was next to him, both pushing their way to the side of the crowd where Harry was walking to.

"Harry!" Hermione said, looking worried. "How are you? How was your summer? How come you had to come to Hogwarts early? Did something happen with You-Know-Who? Wait, if it did you probably can't tell us what it is. So, how are you?"

Harry didn't have to force a smile on his face. He was honestly happy to see his two best friends. "I'm fine, Hermione. Er...some things happened but nothing...uh, important. Nothing I'm allowed to talk about anyway. How was your summer?"

"It would have been better with you there, mate. Fred and George were trying out their new jokes, they got someone to back their company it looks like, and Ginny and I were the only targets left. Mum threw a fit when Ginny ended up bright yellow for three days. She still looks a little yellow around the edges," Ron said, grinning.

"It was wonderful. My parents and I visited Bulgaria and Viktor and then I spent some time catching up with the others in my neighborhood. That was odd, being as I spend so much time apart from them and all, but still nice. Did you enjoy those books I sent you?"

"Yeah. Thanks for that, and for telling Sirius my size."

Hermione blushed. "Professor Lupin owled me about it. I didn't even realize what he wanted it for until after I had replied."

"It's fine. The clothes are nice. So, the twins managed to turn Ginny yellow for three days? What'd they do to you?"

Harry grinned when Ron went red. It was great to be back with his friends.

Ron was saved from replying when Tom - no, Lucas, it had to be Lucas in public - appeared from out of the thinning crowd.

"Hullo, Harry."

"Lucas. Ron, Hermione, this is Lucas. Lucas, this is Ron and Hermione."

"Pleasure to meet you," Tom greeted in a quiet, pleasant tone.

"Same to you."

"Right. Nice to meet you."

"Harry, I could use your help with what we were working on earlier. It'll only take a few minutes. If you don't mind?" Tom asked.

It was posed as a question, but it wasn't something Harry would say no to right now, not with Ginny stupefied just around the corner and Dumbledore's approval of the plan so long as Harry supervised what Tom did.

"Er, sure. I'll meet you both in the Great Hall before the feast."

"Don't be late, Harry," Hermione reminded.

"Alright, see you there."

Tom all but physically dragged him away. He probably would have if they weren't still adhering the 'no-touching' rule.

"Where are we going?" he asked quietly.

"Classroom."

They moved in silence. The hall they walked down was dark around them and Harry followed Tom's shadow and footsteps more than anything. A few doors down Tom turned sharply and entered a classroom. Harry entered as well, shutting the door behind him. Ginny was sitting in a desk in the front row, collapsed against the table part, arms folded carefully under her. Her red hair fell into her face, reflecting what little light was coming from the moon outside. She looked as if she had just fallen asleep in class. Harry's stomach lurched slightly as a flash of Ginny sprawled on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets came to him.

"I'm not so sure about this, Tom. I mean, er, isn't there a better way to fix this?"

"No, there's not. That's why we decided this, Harry," Tom said firmly.

"*We* did not. You and Dumbledore stared each other down and then you said he couldn't say a thing without your permission, which you wouldn't grant, and he said he'd talk to Snape but you better not do something like this again, or about that. I just sat there. I don't like this idea, at all."

"Well, I don't like the idea of the silly girl walking around with a vendetta and the ability to enact it. My problem is slightly more pertinent." Tom carefully picked up the stupefied girl and moved her forward.

"Your problems always are," Harry muttered.

"Well, considering Dumbledore is effectively going to be accused of harboring a criminal if I'm discovered, yes, yes, I think it is!" Tom snapped.

"Oh," Harry replied in a small voice.

Tom muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'stupid little Gryffindors', and rearranged an unconscious Ginny down on a large teacher's desk at the front of a classroom. Harry thought it might be charms class, but everything looked different in the dark - especially when he wasn't looking at things from beneath his invisibility cloak.

"Now, we're not going to hurt her. I'm going to revive her and then you're going to tell her that she fainted and you brought her here. Then you give her the potion, telling her it's an energy-based potion you've taken to carrying around." Tom pulled a small vial from his robe pocket and offered it to Harry, who took it shakily. "If she asks why you didn't take her to hospital wing you say you wanted to give her the potion first and offer to take her up. That should give me enough time to cast the spell before she notices me."

"I know all this!" Harry snapped.

Tom nodded. He spoke softly, his tone comforting. Harry wanted that comfort, but the words didn't fit. "I know you do. I know you don't care to do this, as well, but it needs to be done. It won't hurt her, she will likely not even remember having a conversation with you tonight. The other option is to let her see me, to see what I will remind her of, and you don't want to put her through that sort of pain, do you? You said I betrayed her, that I tried to kill her, and that's what she'll remember. It won't matter that *I* didn't do that, because I am him...or so she will feel. You really want to make her relive that, Harry? It'll hurt her..." Tom trailed off.

Harry shook his head. "I'll do it. If it does hurt her, I hurt you, but I'll do it."

"Fair enough."

Tom backed away, moving to a corner of the classroom behind where Ginny's line of vision would be, and pointed his wand at her.

"Enervate."

Ginny's shoulders shook and she took a deep breath as she returned to consciousness. Harry was there immediately, helping her sit, explaining the lies he'd been told were the best to use, and watching her. His attention was on Tom, however. Ginny drank the potion without complaint, commenting that it tasted better than most the potions she'd be forced to take, and thanked him. Tom raised his wand and started whispering the spell. Harry helped Ginny stand, smiling at her, asking if she wanted to see Madam Pomfrey. The spell was cast completely, Harry could feel the magic of it and Tom's satisfaction at having done it correctly. Ginny said she didn't want to go to the hospital wing, that she probably had fainted because she'd forgotten to eat today, and that she felt fine now.

Tom moved out of a corner, smiling and saying that Harry had seemed very worried and that he was a new friend of Harry's named Lucas Hunter and that she must be Ginny Weasley. She agreed that that was who she was; Tom complimented her then and she blushed. Harry wanted to scream, but suggested they head towards the Great Hall instead. The two of them agreed immediately.

Harry felt the sick crawl of contradictory emotions coming over him as he left the room a step behind Ginny. He had just, effectively, violated his best friend's little sister, and he was happy about it. Well, not happy exactly so much as pleased. Pleased because it had helped Tom, helped himself, helped protect their secret. Ginny had been a threat, even Harry had to agree with that, and now she wasn't. He felt like he should feel appalled with his actions, but he didn't, which, ironically enough, made him feel sick. He couldn't get sick now, however. He still had to go to the Great Hall and sit through the Welcome Feast with Ginny sitting there, completely unaware of what he had just done to her, and listen to Ron discussing Quidditch with him. Maybe he could claim an illness as soon as the Sorting was over. He wouldn't exactly be lying after all.

As they turned a corner, Tom on one side of him and Ginny on the other, he glanced at her -- she was nearly his height, he noticed - and she gave him a shy, slightly embarrassed smile. He could feel Tom, more than just a little satisfied with the outcome, watching him as he watched Ginny. Harry turned to match the stare, only to have Tom smile at him and look away. He sighed. They were nearly at the Great Hall. Harry could see the first years entering the castle and he quickened his pace a little, wanting to get there before the large doors were slammed shut to prevent the 11-year-olds from seeing the Great Hall just quite yet. They managed to slip in just in time.

Tom hung back slightly after that, most likely considering where exactly he should sit. For some reason Dumbledore had insisted Tom go through a second sorting, which Harry thought was pointless because it wasn't as if he was going to end up anywhere other than Slytherin, was it? Finally Tom followed him over to the Gryffindor table and leaned against the wall so that he wasn't actually sitting with Gryffindors so much as talking to Harry. Artemis could be seen against the opposite wall, talking with Malfoy. Her brother Apollo, a soon-to-be sixth year, was in the back of the room, just watching everyone. Then again, everyone was watching the three newcomers back. Tom didn't appear to notice the attention being paid to him but Harry knew better than that.

Then the first years entered the hall, looking around in awe, and the other students drew their attention away from the older newcomers. When they reached the front of the raised platform the Sorting Hat began to sing.

I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

So sit me on your head

For I will see inside your mind

and say what must be said.

I'm meant to be mind-reader

from start until the last

No matter what you might say

with me you have no mask.

I'll see where you belong just right

the House that's made for you

And there you'll go to spend your nights

and your days there too.

You may belong in Ravenclaw,

with the quick of wit.

In this house you must be sharp,

or you will not fit.

Or perhaps you'll go to Gryffindor,

with the proud and brave.

In this house you must decide

what you choose to save.

Then there are the Hufflepuffs,

ever-working and quite loyal.

You must be willing to help yourself,

or else the house be spoiled.

Finally there is Slytherin,

ever-scheming and quite sly,

You must be prepared to take the risks,

for to win you first must try.

So, on you head I shall go,

To see what I will see.

And after that you will know

Where you're meant to be.

Harry couldn't focus on the first years in front of the hall, or on the concerned looks Hermione and Ron were giving him. Tom moved closer to him, almost as if he wanted to reach out and comfort him, but Harry didn't bridge the final gap of space. Through it all he barely managed to clap at the appropriate places and was very glad when it was done. Except, of course, it wasn't done. Tom Riddle still had to be sorted for a second time.