Unofficial Portkey Archive

CHAPTER 9: A Journey Through Time and Space

Hermione looked out the plane window as they passed through the clouds, leaving the moon on one side and meeting the city lights on the other. The lights looked like little pin pricks against a dark backdrop at first, but as they drew closer to the ground she could start to make out streets and buildings and eventually even cars. There was a slight rumble as they decreased in elevation and Ron woke up with a start in the seat in front of her.

"Are we gonna die??" He half shouted, his voice thick from sleep. Hermione had given him something to help him fall asleep, as he was extremely fearful of getting into what he referred to as a "giant flying metal death trap". Ron had never flown in an airplane before but Hermione had agreed with Harry's logic that it would be best for them to travel the muggle way to avoid detection and so she had coerced him into getting on board. It was rather humorous that he felt perfectly at home straddling a piece of limber far above the ground, but was terrified by the concept of an airplane. Luna and Ginny were equally unfamiliar with aircrafts, but neither of them had shown the same symptoms of aerophobia. In fact, Luna had been quite excited to try out the new experience.

For Hermione, arranging for muggle transportation hadn't been difficult. Flying was the most direct method, and the flight was only about an hour and a half, but even such a short trip had Ron terrified and thus she had drugged him which had aptly managed the situation until now.

"Are we going to crash?" he repeated, struggling to clear his groggy brain. "I knew this aeroplane thing was a terrible idea." He was seated next to Luna and Hermione watched as the former Ravenclaw took Ron's hand and said a few soothing words. Surprisingly Ron calmed down, still sitting rigid in his seat but no longer shouting. After a few minutes he gave Luna an appreciative smile, which she returned in kind. While watching this transpire Hermione realized that Luna was actually quite pretty dressed in muggle clothing. It had been a bit of a struggle to teach Luna how to dress like a normal muggle. Luckily, Hermione had inspected her bags before they departed and found an odd assortment of feathered boas, top hats, overalls, and even a tutu. Clearly the whimsical girl had no idea what constituted muggle fashion so Hermione had lent her some things.

Ron was surprisingly better at packing as he had adopted a muggle sense of style through Harry and Hermione over the years. And Ginny of course, had a larger muggle wardrobe than even Hermione did. The girl loved to shop.

In the last few minutes of the plane landing, Hermione once more gazed at a crumpled piece of parchment that Harry had sent to her by owl before they left. She had assumed he would at least come and see them off in person, but she knew him so well that she could easily determine the true reason for his abrupt goodbye. He was afraid of hurting anyone. He still didn't trust his instable magic, but mostly Harry Potter always felt that his proximity to anyone directly correlated with their death/pain/great suffering. Sadly, there was some dark, unfair truth to that viewpoint. Nevertheless, for reasons she couldn't quite grasp she was rather saddened that instead of a hug goodbye she had gotten an owl with a shoddily written note.

It read:

I am sorry I will not be able to see you and the others off, but it has come to my attention that time is of the essence and I should start looking deeper into these memories I have stuck in my head. It's been a curse to deal with, but maybe it'll be a blessing in disguise if I can find something useful from it about Damon and about his organization.

Stay safe. I'd tell you to act smart but you always do.

That was simply all it had said. He hadn't even signed it and yet she kept reading it over and over again, like it held some secret message.

As they touched down on the landing strip the color gradually returned to Ron's face and they gathered their luggage and left the airport. It was late in the night but there were plenty of cabs waiting outside and Hermione took the lead in requesting that the cab driver take them to a muggle hotel where she had made reservations. Her French was rusty but the man didn't seem to have any trouble understanding her and soon they were on their way, Hermione in the passenger seat and the other three in the back.

"I didn't know you spoke French" Ginny commented as they headed down the highway, bright streetlights flashing past.

"A little bit. I vacationed in France a few times with my family."

"We could fill a book with the things that surprise us about Hermione" Ron said, and when Hermione looked back she could see that he was grinning.

"You seem awfully happy for someone who just thought he was about to fall from the sky and burn to death just moments ago" Hermione commented.

"I'm happy to be off that plane... and also, this car reminds me of the time Harry and I just about destroyed the Ford Anglia." Ron was careful not to mention that it was a flying car in the presence of the driver in case the man understood English.

"I could have killed you both if I wasn't so happy to see you alive" Hermione muttered, rolling her eyes.

"I think Mum and Dad felt just about the same way" Ginny responded, and soon they were all laughing, even Luna. It feels good to laugh Hermione realized, and she felt a little bit lighter by the time they were exiting the cab and heading into the hotel.

The hotel was simple; low key and out of the way of any major foot traffic, and thus it was a perfect place to stay to avoid attracting attention. The young woman stationed at the front desk was half awake when they arrived but she did her best to chipper up as they checked in to their two adjoining rooms.

"I am not staying in the same room as Ron" Ginny announced. As they headed up to their room. "He snores terribly."

"I know" Hermione responded, and then felt awkward for a moment as she recalled a brief time when they used to sleep together and she would have to silence him to get a night of rest. There were also all those nights the three of them had spent in the tent, chasing the horocruxes, which was an even more uncomfortable memory

"I'll sleep with Ronald. I mean, I'll sleep in the same room as him" Luna offered, and if she was embarrassed by her slip up she did not indicate it. "Tomorrow morning my source will meet with us at a nearby cafe for brunch."

"So I guess we should just try to get some sleep" Ginny sighed, flinging her bag onto the nearest bed and then calling the first shower. Hermione thought the idea of sleep sounded like a marvelous luxury that she hadn't been afforded in quite some time. She laid down on the other bed and stared up at the ceiling, wanting to give into her fatigue but feeling guilty that she ought to be doing something else, something more. Harry had asked her to find out everything she possibly could about incidences of shared-consciousness but she didn't have a library handy and having already perused the few books she packed on the flight, she didn't think they'd offer any insights. Maybe I should write to Madam Pince and have her pull some books out on similar topics for me to read when we get back...

But the thought never reached finality, because as Ginny turned on the shower Hermione's eyes fell closed like heavy curtains and she was fast asleep, still fully clothed.

************************

Harry had been trying to reach into Riddle's memories to find out where he had gone to learn about Mental Channeling. The closest he had gotten was slipping back into the memory of meeting Damon, and he kept hearing the mysterious stranger's words over and over again...

"I am sending you to the place where it all started for me..."

Feeling exhausted and frustrated Harry opened his eyes and removed himself from his seated position in the middle of the same field where he had last gone to navigate through the memories. Frowning he trudged back to the same drafty castle that he and Malfoy had been staying at before. When he arrived the blonde haired man was still meditating and Harry had to clear his throat loudly a few times to get him to focus.

"Back already Potter? Talk about a lack of self control."

"I was out there for twelve hours!" Harry growled, kicking aimlessly at some of the rubble that had fallen from the ceiling during Malfoy's temper tantrum. "I'm getting nowhere. Have you had any luck?"

Malfoy frowned and gracefully leapt down from atop the massive chunk of stone he'd been sitting on. "No. If I was trying to recall memories of tearing people's throats out with my bare teeth or howling at the moon than we would be golden. I haven't been able to find anything useful about Tom Riddle."

"So we're at another dead end. The diary is useless since he kept no record of that part of his life. History books don't have any clue about where he went. Whatever memories Riddle has of that time period are buried deep. Mostly anyone he may have told about it has been murdered, or else he didn't give them enough information to be of use to us. Maybe we're just wasting our time. Maybe we should be looking for Damon himself..."

"How exactly do you propose we do that? We have a first name, which may not even be his real name. We know nothing about him except that he is a possibly immortal, powerful wizard who can do wandless, wordless magic and has been planning world domination for decades. I highly doubt a guy like that is listed in the directory at the Ministry of Magic."

"Okay, so what do you suppose we do since you're so fucking brilliant?" Harry countered, starting to have a hard time managing his agitation.

"Well, there is one option I have been pondering, but it's dangerous, possibly deadly and may not even give us the results we want."

"Well that sounds perfect then!" Harry replied, his voice thick with sarcasm.

Draco ignored him. "There's a potion called Odyssea that I read about that allows you to interact with your subliminal consciousness in a very direct way. Actually, it's a bit like having a drug trip that brings you on a journey of your consciousness."

"So, you want us to do drugs and see if that helps? You really are beyond brilliant Malfoy."

Draco shrugged. "If you're too much of a wimp to try it, I understand. Theoretically, it should allow us to control these memories for a while. I could get a better look at Greyback's conversations with Riddle and you could maybe see where Damon sent Riddle off to."

"Theoretically" Harry huffed. He didn't like the idea of going on a drug trip with the former Slytherin and Death Eater, but he certainly wasn't seeing any other options of merit. "What would we need to create this potion?"

"I have all the ingredients, but we'll need to go back to Malfoy Manor."

"How do we know Malfoy Manor is a safe place to be at? Your parents were killed there…"

"I don't need you to remind me of that" Draco responded sharply. "There are very ancient wards that we did not have activated when that incident occured. We thought we were safe so we never bothered to re-activate them. I will do that first thing, but you'll have to get rid of the bloody aurors that are still squatting there."

"Fine, I'll have Kingsley order the aurors to leave the property. He's back on my side. Not that the rest of the ministry is, so we'll still need to go unseen."

"That's fine, there are plenty of ways for a Malfoy to sneak into his own house. And once we get there, we'll have a lovely little spirit journey drug trip."

**********************

Ron was trying to sleep but he was in a strange bed in a strange country and every time he closed his eyes he saw the silhouette of the Burrow burning to the ground, the orange flames swallowing his childhood home whole whilst the black night sky watched unfeelingly. After tossing and turning for a few minutes he flipped the light on next to his bed to find something to read or occupy his mind with, but all he found was a Bible written in French. The was a vision-telly thing in the room, but he had no idea how to use it and besides, the few times he had tried to watch one he found it rather boring.

He sighed and stared back up at the ceiling, noting how there was a small dent in the white plaster that looked a bit like a rabbit. He tried to look for other shapes in the uneven ceiling, but mostly he tried to not think about the Burrow burning down, or the risk they all might be facing soon, or what Harry had said to him before they'd gone their separate ways.

I need you to GROW UP.

The words had been echoing through his head since they had left Harry's mouth, and even when they had booked the flight and even when he was sure he was about to die in a horrific crash, those words still lingered. What bothered him wasn't that Harry was mad at him. They had gotten mad at each other loads of times, and they had argued and fought and said regrettable things. They were like brothers in that respect, and like brothers, they always found a way to forgive each other and move on.

No, Ron wasn't losing sleep because Harry was mad. He was losing sleep because he knew the words rang true. Ever since the war I have been hiding out behind money, girls and fame. I've been acting selfish and childish true, but now that I realize all that, I realize how scared I really am to stop hiding....

"You look like a wheezing bizzle stole all of your happiness" Luna Lovegood said, causing him to jump as she strode across the room in nothing but a towel.

He tried to avert his eyes but it was already too late, the image of her being nearly naked was in his mind now, and he realized with a start that he much preferred this new image to the one of his family home burning down. He turned on his side to prevent himself from attempting another peak, and he heard her rummaging through her luggage.

"Keep your back turned, I'm getting dressed" she notified him, and that made him feel even more hot and bothered. Well, not bothered exactly he conceded to himself.

As he tried to distract his thoughts he recalled all the times during the horocrux hunt that Hermione had told the boys to turn around while she changed. Not that I didn't end up seeing everything eventually anyways he contemplated with a great surge of discomfort towards his wandering mind. Their romantic relationship had been short and not very healthy. After the war they were moving in different directions even more so than they ever had before. She was obsessed with helping to make changes in the ministry, and he was obsessed with ignoring everything serious and adult-like. Thus their fighting hit new levels of intensity, which was why it sometimes surprised him that they had ever reached a level of intimacy. It had only been a few times and then they broke it off shortly afterwards. Only a few times but still memorable he found himself recalling. He had long acknowledged that his feelings towards her were still complicated.

First I start getting flustered over Luna and now I'm thinking about my ex-girlfriend/current best friend in compromising terms. I really am childish!

"You can turn around now" Luna said, snapping Ron back to reality. "So are you going to tell me why the wheezing bizzle stole your happiness?"

"I don't think it was a wheezing bizzle" he responded, smiling in spite of himself. When he was younger he had found her quirky nature a bit overwhelming, but lately he'd been finding it a refreshingly comical.

"Then allow me to ask the direct question Ronald. Why are you so sad?"

"Well, the house I grew up in, the place that held all my most cherished childhood dreams was burned to the ground by an anonymous group of psychopaths who are allegedly hell bent on taking over not just Britain this time, but the entire world."

He looked at Luna now as she sat crossed legged on the other bed. The yellowish light of the bedside lamp was shining against her blonde hair and he suddenly realized that he had never noticed that she was quite pretty. The girls he usually "courted" consisted of tanned skinned beauties with big bosoms, lots of makeup and expensive wardrobes. Luna was none of those things. She was dressed in a pair of flannel pajamas and her hair was still wet from the shower. She had no makeup on and he now tried to reflect if he'd ever seen her wear any. Her skin was pale but her complexion was very clear and her eyes were an intriguing silver-grey shade that seemed to twinkle as she thought. As for her bosom... well, it wasn't Play Wizard big (usually courtesy of enlargement charms as he'd found out) but it wasn't bad either.

Great, now I'm staring at her breasts he realized, quickly looking away from her and back up at the ceiling.

If she noticed that he had been checking her out she gave no indication, simply continuing to consider what he had said about the Burrow. "It is very sad that your home burned down. It was very lovely. They may be able to rebuild it one day, when all of this is over. Magic can do miraculous things. Yes, it can destroy, but it can also rebuild."

He had expected some wacky response from Luna and was stunned by the wisdom in her words. "How is it that after everything we've seen... everything that was done to you during the war... you can still have such optimism?"

"Do you mean when I was captured or when the erumpent horn blew my house up?"

"Erumpent horn? I thought you were convinced that it belonged to a crumply snorlack or something..."

She gave him a mischievous smile unlike he'd ever seen on her before. He liked it instantly. "Ronald, the truth is that the more I study to become a wizarding naturalist, the more I've discovered that many of the creatures my father believes in aren't real."

"So why do you keep talking about them?"

The twinkle returned to her eye. "You asked me how I can still be optimistic after everything? Well Ronald, I think that just believing in something, even when you know it is unlikely or unreal, that is what gives us hope."

*************************

"I'm really starting to have second thoughts about this" Harry frowned, staring down at the smoking, chunky green potion that Malfoy had shoved in front of him.

"You were already having second thoughts" Draco responded disdainfully.

"Well, now I'm having third thoughts" Harry retorted, slowly becoming convinced that Malfoy was trying to poison him. They were standing at a massive island table in the kitchen of Malfoy Manor. Kingsley had dismissed all of the auror patrols so they could enter without being seen (and also without having to knock the poor guards out again). Kingsley had also returned their wands, noting that he was not 100% sure that Harry and Draco weren't secretly planning something diabolical, but also noting that he didn't see another option except to hope Harry was going to try to save them all (again).

Draco had been glad that Harry refused to go back down into the dungeon while he brewed the Odyssea potion that now sat bubbling in front of them. Harry would have only distracted him with his pacing and whining, and it was a complicated potion that required perfect concentration. Once he had finished brewing it, he had found Potter wandering aimlessly around the Manor and had insisted that they go into the kitchen to drink it. Why he chose this room, he couldn't say for certain. He'd hardly spent any time in it unless he was kicking the House Elves around and ordering them to make him something.

"What if you brewed it wrong?" Harry asked, looking pale as he stared into the ghastly concoction.

"I didn't" Draco promptly responded.

"You are awfully sure of yourself."

"Potter, I was always better at potions than you, and after the war, while you were off posing for the Daily Prophet and playing the role of Saint I was perfecting the craft. Even Snape would have a hard time measuring up with all I've learned."

"Snape studied potions his whole life, you spent five measly years with a chemistry set in your parents' basement. I hardly think you can compare yourself to him."

Draco ground his teeth, having to use all of his skills of meditation to avoid getting angry and possibly setting off his randomly emergent wandless magic. "Listen Potter, we have to drink this while it's still hot or I can assure you you'll be experiencing some side effects that are none-too-pleasant. Are we going to do this or not?"

"You first" Harry scowled, crossing his arms across his chest defiantly.

"Fine" Draco sighed, and he quickly picked up the beaker tube that he had set out before him and took a long swig. It was truly disgusting and his stomach instantly tried to reject it but he forced it to stay down. Malfoys do not vomit he reminded himself. "See, I'm fine."

Harry still looked wary, but he followed in suit, making a wretched face as he swallowed the rest of the potion down. "That was even grosser than the Polyjuice Potion."

"When the fuck did you drink a polyjuice potion?" Draco asked, feeling slightly lightheaded from the Odyssea, but not fully realizing its effects yet.

Harry gave Draco a strange smile, and there was a twinkle of humor in his eye that Draco had never seen before and that he certainly did not like. "I used it in our second year" was all he said.

"How did you even get it?" Draco demanded, not sure he wanted to hear the full story.

"Hermione made it" Harry shrugged, and he was feeling lightheaded and a little giddy so he grabbed a stool and sat down on it.

"Hermione Granger made Polyjuice Potion when she was in her second year?!" Draco was incredulous, perhaps a bit more so than usual thanks to the Odyssea now coursing through his body.

"Well, she is a genius" Harry said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Draco felt like he was floating so he decided to hoist himself onto the countertop, his legs dangling from the edge, his hands resting comfortably by his sides. "I don't hate her, at least not anymore" Draco said, and some part of his consciousness was infuriated by the words that were floating from his mouth. Yet he knew, without a shadow of doubt, that he was telling the truth; that the drug was bringing the truth from some deeply hidden part of his consciousness. "I am envious of her. My family had many high expectations of me, and I tried my hardest to be the best in each class, tried my best to prove myself worthy. But she always outshone me and she was muggle born, and that disgusted me. But what I said that time about enjoying seeing her be tortured... it wasn't true. I just needed to make you angry, and it's clear to me that she is your Achilles heel."

"How is it so clear to you?"

"I'm good at reading people" Draco shrugged. "We all have our gifts, even if yours constantly outshine everyone else's."

"I thought you would say that it's because I wear my emotions on my sleeves."

"No, you don't actually. I mean, you're pretty obvious about your affection for your friends and your need to be a Saint all the time and your obsession with honor and bravery and all that shit. But I'm realizing that you hide some things quite well. Like your sadness. Or the truth about what you were up to the other night when you suddenly vanished from that bar in Knockturn Alley."

"Well, I don't think you need any `gift' in reading people to know that I don't trust you Malfoy. I can tell you've changed, and it's clear that you're desperate to redeem yourself somehow. Why is that I wonder? Do you believe there's a heaven Malfoy? Are you trying to buy your way in by doing some good deeds?"

Draco laughed out loud at this question, and Harry realized he had never heard Malfoy's actual laugh. As schoolboys Malfoy had displayed plenty of nasty chuckles, and even some over exaggerated guffawing at someone else's expense, but he had never never heard the Slytherin offer a genuine laugh. "Honestly Potter, I don't know if there's an afterlife, but if there is I don't want to be going there as a coward. You're the one who claimed to have died, you tell me, if there an afterlife?"

"Yes" Harry said plainly, and he suddenly looked disinterested in the topic.

"Yes? That's all, just yes?"

Harry shrugged. "This Odyssea doesn't seem to be working. All I feel is a floating sensation and an overwhelming urge to spill my guts to you like two teenaged girls at a slumber party."

"Truth or Dare Potter?" Draco joked, and suddenly the two found themselves laughing uproariously.

"Next you're going to be braiding my hair" Harry choked out between laughs.

"You don't have any hair to braid Potter!" Draco responded, and all of his inhibitions about sounding silly were gone. "You went and chopped it all off and you look like a psycho now!"

"Do I?" Harry asked, looking aghast as he reached for his nonexistent locks.

"You've always lacked a sense of fashion but you've really taken the war hero look too far. It's so short I can see every scar on your lumpy skull. Let me cut it for you so I don't have to look at it every day."

"What, you want to sit here until it grows back?" Harry responded, perplexed and spacey.

"No, we'll use a potion to grow it back. Honestly Potter, I am being fully honest and I really do believe you're a total moron. If they can grow bones back, why wouldn't we be able to grow hair back?"

"Is it really a good idea-"

Harry didn't finish his thought because Draco had disapparated quite suddenly and when he returned he had a clear vial that he made Harry drink. Harry swigged a bit too much and his hair was down to his shoulders as a result, a sight which they both got a kick out of thanks to a mirror and the ever-progressing Odyssea effects. Draco was able to cut Harry's hair quickly and efficiently using his wand and a few clever spells. When Harry looked back in the mirror a second time he was astounded by how different he looked. As an adult he had started to pay for actual haircuts (mostly because of Hermione's nagging) but he had never had it cut in this particular way. It was short but not overly so, and it actually worked in favor of his typically unruly raven locks.

"I wonder if Hermione will like this" he found himself saying aloud and Draco just smirked.

"So now that we're having a heart to heart Potter, let's have the truth of it. There's one thing I still can't figure out with you. I said Hermione Granger is your Achilles heel, but is that because the two of you just have this never-before-heard-of-in-history, soul binding, purely platonic best friendship or is it because you're in love with her?"

Harry's eyes flashed and for a second Draco's drug infested mind regained enough coherence to be scared that Harry might lose control and take down the entire Manor with his wandless magic. Yet as he looked closer he realized that it wasn't anger that changed Harry's eyes... his eyes had changed color. One moment they were a bright shade of green, and the next they were a dark shade of grey.

"Potter does not want to talk about that." The words came from Harry's mouth, but the voice was clearly not his.

"Hello Riddle" Draco responded, and somewhere in his mind he heard Greyback howling to come out and join the party.

***************************

She was just about finished with weeding her garden. She knew that there were several spells that could adequately do this mundane task in a matter of seconds, but right now she had some time and she little the feeling of the warm soil in her hands and the hot sun against the back of her neck.

When she was finished she stood and wiped her hands off on her jeans. It was a perfect day for yard work; the sky was a beautiful shade of blue and fluffy white clouds floated lazily about. The sun was warm but there was a gentle breeze and no humidity. She rarely had time to enjoy her new backyard since she was typically buried in work, so she really tried to enjoy every second of it.

She looked over towards the corner of her yard and found Harry lying in the hammock as he usually did on those rare occasions when he had time to relax. His arm was over his face and she couldn't tell if he was asleep or awake so she walked over to him, smiling at how peaceful he seemed. When she drew close he removed his arm and smiled up at her, squinting slightly against the bright sun.

"Did I wake you?" she asked, absently pushing the hammock so he swayed slightly.

"No" he responded and as he swung back towards her he sat up suddenly and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her down onto the hammock with him. They rocked uncertainly for moment, as though they might tip over but he steadied them and when the world stopped moving she was left resting on top of him, his arms still wrapped around her waist.

She wanted to laugh it off and move away from him, but something was keeping her there; something about it felt right. She felt warm and comfortable and yet alert and pointedly aware of the way his chest moved beneath her with each breath. As she moved her face to look into his eyes she saw something there that shocked her. Love and desire were burning from his gaze with such intensity that she felt like she couldn't breathe. And then, without so much as a single word indicating his intentions he leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. He tasted of spearmint toothpaste and she offered no resistance as he deepened the kiss. When she breathlessly moved away from him her eyes were still closed and she allowed the tingly sensation of their embrace to linger, washing over her entire body.

And then there came laughter. Cold, slow laughter that she now recognized as that of Tom Riddle. When she opened her eyes it was not Harry's emerald gaze looking back at her, but the piercing red eyes of Voldemort.

Hermione woke with a gasp, cold sweat clinging to her as she sat upright, clutching the sheet of her hotel room bed desperately.

"What's wrong?" Ginny mumbled, her voice thick from sleep but still loud and coherent. When Hermione looked over at the redhead she was clutching her wand, ready for action. Dumbledore's Army training may pay off once more she thought hazily. "What's wrong with Harry?"

"What?" Hermione responded, confused about how Ginny could possibly know about her nightmare.

"You yelled out his name... I thought something had happened. Seems it must have just been a dream."

"Yes, that's all it was" Hermione responded, feeling a chill take her over as she remembered Tom Riddle's face so close to hers.

"It must have been awful, the way you screamed his name scared me. Do you want to tell me about it?"

Hermione contemplated this for a moment. For some reason she did want to share, as though by reciting the dream over again it would leave her mind and free her of the icy sensation she was feeling all over. At the same time, the logical part of her brain felt strange about telling Ginny a story about kissing Harry (whom Ginny had dated) and Harry turning into Tom Riddle (whom Ginny had been abducted by). Instead, she tried a different approach.

"I just realized that I haven't thought to ask you how you feel knowing this whole ordeal with Harry seemingly sharing consciousness with Tom Riddle... or Voldemort. I'm still not 100 percent sure why Harry keeps saying Riddle. According to him he has all of Voldemort's memories as well as Riddle's, he just can't control accessing them."

"Maybe it's because the Riddle part of Voldemort hated the man he turned into. True, he was disgusted by his muggle father's name- but he was also disgusted by what he became. Ugly, twisted and less than he always imagined he ought to be. Riddle was evil... I can attest to that. But he was also deeply proud. The fact that his future self was a noseless horror that couldn't even kill a baby probably sickens him. Young Riddle's consciousness is at conflict with Lord Voldemort."

"Harry said something very similar- but how could you possibly know that? Even when you had the diary, you didn't even know who he was until much later..."

Ginny's voice was small as she laid back down on her bed. "That's true, and to be honest I don't know how I sense these things about him. I have these dreams sometimes, dreams where I am back in the Chamber of Secrets and Riddle is there talking to me. And while I know it's just a dream, I sense that some part of it is true."

"Sometimes powerful magic objects leave a mark on us" Hermione commented, thinking of the weight of the Salazar Slytherin's locket before they destroyed it. As she said it, something dawned on her. Harry was the horocrux Voldemort never intended to make. He carried a piece of Voldemort's soul around in him for years. What if there is still an echo left, even after he destroyed the parasite?

It didn't explain why he only just started noticing it five years later, and it didn't answer how to get rid of it. However, it was the first theory she had developed since they had gotten past the "Harry has gone insane" phase.

"If you're in love with Harry I won't get mad about it" Ginny said, startling Hermione from her reverie.

"What?" Hermione asked sharply, twisting uncomfortably in her now sweat soaked sheets. She thought about the kiss from her dream and that just made matters worse.

"You don't have to confirm or deny it, I think I already know. I just want you to know that if anything ever does happen between the two of you, I won't be upset. Believe it or not, I came to terms with it before you even left to search for the horocruxes."

"Came to terms with what?" Hermione asked, feeling like she should be annoyed and dismissive about this lapse in the conversation. Instead she just felt curious.

"I came to terms with the fact that you'll always be the woman he trusts above any other. If he goes to anyone, it'll be you he seeks when he's hurt, confused or scared. He will confide in you secrets he will never share with anyone else, and he will trust you to find the answers when he can't find them himself. It's a lot to compete with but I thought I could do it, I thought I loved him enough to overcome petty jealousy after the war ended. And in the end it wasn't even the jealousy that led me to end things between us; it was the fact that never really did come back from the war."

***************************

"Hello Draco Malfoy" Harry responded, but it wasn't Harry speaking any longer. "Didn't you turn out to be a real disappointment."

Yes, yes a blood traitor! Greyback chimed in, and Draco just barely managed to keep him repressed.

"Don't worry Draco, I know it was Voldemort you betrayed and not me. I can hardly blame you for that, he was foolish and weak and an utter disappointment. He was destroyed by a mere infant for Merlin's sake!" Riddle let out a cold chuckle and stood with a swift grace that was largely different from Harry's usual motions.

"You ARE Voldemort" Draco argued, keeping his tone calm, almost to the point of bored. He continued to ignore Greyback's howling, which was giving him a headache. "Don't you think it's a little pathetic that your inner child is having a fight with your inner adult?"

Riddle simply smirked as he paced around the kitchen island, running a finger along the smooth marble surface. "Actually, I think that in most cases, if a person's teenaged self was to meet their current self they would be displeased. Think about yourself for example. If the once proud Draco Malfoy, heir to Malfoy Manor and all of its prestigious assets could see the current Draco Malfoy giving Harry Potter a haircut, wouldn't he just want to kill him?"

Draco was seething but he managed to keep control. "So you can see Harry's memories just as he can see yours. What are you exactly?"

"Something very special" Riddle smirked, inspecting his finger for dust from the counter tops. "Tsk, tsk, where are your House Elves to deal with the dusting around here?"

"Answer the question" Draco responded, now standing as well and drawing himself to his full height. In Harry's body Riddle was about the same height as Draco, but Harry's body was more muscular and if it came to blows Draco would surely lose. Nonetheless, he did not show any self-doubt.

"I don't think you could grasp it even if I explained it to you. I used some very old, very complicated magic before I was... killed. For the longest time I was just a whisper wandering around in the dark. I sometimes wandered into Potter's dreams but I couldn't interact. I was a useless observer, but I had all of my memories. Then one day I could see out of his eyes, and I could even control a bit of his emotions. The best was the moment I realized I could control his body for brief periods of time. I nearly killed that mudblood whore of his. Can you imagine what a divine moment that would have been when he awoke from my control and realized he'd strangled her? I would have a front row seat to his suffering."

"Well that's a bunch of not helpful. I suppose while you're feeling talkative though, I should ask you where Damon sent you to learn about Mental Channeling."

Draco has expected Riddle to get mad about the question, but instead he looked impassive, simply studying him with those strange black eyes. Two can play at this game Draco thought, crossing his arms and patiently waiting for the other man to speak.

"I see from Harry's memories that Lucius and Narcissa are dead. Quite a gorey ordeal too, and all because I once let a little secret slip about Mental Channeling. I'd say it was a shame but their deaths aren't really much of a loss. They were traitors and leeches to boot. Although your mother was quite attractive. I had her several times, and the funniest part is your father knew all about it but did nothing. She was an icy woman but how she moaned like a whore!"

Draco felt the kitchen shake with his rage and pots and pans began to clang together in a rising cacophony of sound. He knew he was losing control but he did not care. Greyback was howling and he drew on that raw, animalistic rage, aiming it all at the raven-haired boy in front of him. Harry's body flung across the room with such force that the wall cracked when he made contact with it. There was a look of surprise in Riddle's eyes and that just fueled Draco further. Harry's body was pinned against the wall and he reached up and wrapped his hand around his throat. He could feel Harry's pulse racing against the palm of his hand, and Greyback's memories of tearing out the larynx of living people and tasting their hot blood suddenly gave him a craving to bite into Harry's throat.

"Oh do it already" Riddle hissed through his constricted windpipe. "If you truly want to stop being a coward, pick up my mission. Restore power to your family name..."

Draco slowly released his grip, staring uncertainly into Riddle's dark eyes. A moment passed and the ground still shook as they simply looked at each other, and then Riddle's eyes suddenly turned back to green and Harry Potter had returned, his body falling to the ground, unmoving.

Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 1.2.7

-->