Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing; I just steal JKRowling's toys. I mean borrow...**

**Warnings: OCD in some places, botched mental illnesses. Made up mental illness sort of.**

* * *

Harry cautiously stepped forward following the nurse, Poppy. He wasn't exactly looking forward to meeting new people or the prospect of sharing living space with them. Harry only hoped his 'Voldemort' persona didn't rear his ugly head.

"Here we are." Poppy cheerfully exclaimed showing Harry the nicely furnished rooms that would be his new home. Harry gave a small smile, the rooms looked nice, comfortable. Poppy held the door open for him then left so he could find his room and unpack the small rucksack he carried with him.

Harry made his way over to the door that had his name on and carefully entered the key-code and personal password. He had deliberately kept the password something incredibly random and not personal so people couldn't figure it out by knowing details pertaining to his life and wrote it backwards. Sometimes he was paranoid like that.

Inside the room it was stark and bare but the walls were painted nice neutral tones, creams and browns so the colours didn't scream at Harry's eyeballs. Harry sat his rucksack onto the bed only taking out a photo frame with a picture of his parents and him when he was a baby, he only remembered messy black hair and long flowing red curls when he thought of his parents, they had died when he was two, car crash. He had then been placed with his aunt and uncle and treated like a burden and a personal slave.

Harry placed his rucksack in the cupboard; the rest of his stuff would be brought in later. Harry just hoped his piano and books would be alright by the time they had been hefted up the many staircases. Flattening his hair in a nervous gesture Harry stepped out in the common room for those staying at Hogwarts institution.

There was only three other people so far. Harry observed them discretely from the shadows before venturing out. The two men were tall; both a little more than 6 feet and both men were thin with dark hair, both had pale skin and both had the sharp air of immense intellect.

That was where the similarities ended. One had neat fairly short hair lying flat on his head while the other had hair nearly down to his shoulders in one dark curtain, one had grey eyes almost opaque with an emotional blankness, the other had dark obsidian eyes.

The third person in the room was an average sized woman with brown curly hair and deep chocolate brown eyes; she was pleasantly curvy and was dressed more casually than the two men, in jeans and a t-shirt. She also looked like she possessed a keenness of wit about her and had a huge book in her lap which she was reading from.

"Are you going to stand there observing us all day or can you pluck up enough courage to introduce yourself? It's rude to stare after all." Came the mild tones from the man with grey eyes standing to the side of the room near the fireplace.

Harry jumped as he realised the man was addressing him eyes fixed unnervingly where Harry was standing. The other man and the woman looked over curiously.

Harry flushed lightly but didn't really feel ashamed, he got the feeling that the man who had spoken was just annoyed someone was looking at him and he couldn't unnerve them by doing the same. And from the way the man had stated it he didn't care for social conventions like not staring at someone.

Harry stepped out from the shadows into the room and made his way over and leant against a wall. He smiled round smoothing his hair down nervously again.

"Hi, I'm Harry. What your names?" Harry asked politely not offering to shake their hands. He got the feeling that both men weren't very tactile and while the woman probably wouldn't have minded she would have had to remove the large book off her lap to shake Harry's hand.

The man with longer hair nodded curtly but not in a way that seemed deliberately rude just in a naturally succinct 'I don't have time for pointless niceties' way. "Severus." He stated.

The woman looked at him searchingly for a moment before nodding and smiling slightly. "Hello, my name is Hermione." She stated briefly before going back to her book. Harry smiled at this in amusement.

The man who had first spoken didn't change his expression but Harry could sense a mild feeling of annoyance rising from him and impatience. It seemed he wasn't used to waiting until last, even for something as mundane as stating names. Harry withheld a smile feeling that would irritate the man further. He had the odd urge to see how far he could push the grey eyed man.

"Tom Riddle, pleasure to meet you." Tom stated stepping forward hand outstretched. Harry reluctantly grabbed it with his hand and shook it hurriedly before letting go a little too soon to be called polite. Tom's grey eyes gleamed in something that could have been satisfaction or triumph before they went blank again.

Tom's annoyance vanished as he saw Harry's visible unease with the handshake. Harry really didn't like touching people or being touched, it was just something he was uncomfortable by. It seemed that Harry being uncomfortable reassured Tom in some way, made him more confident.

"The pleasure is all mine." Harry murmured insincerely. Tom's mouth twitched although Harry couldn't tell if it was annoyance or amusement.

Harry could feel his skin itching uncomfortably and almost groaned trying in vain to push the feeling away, it really wasn't a good time for his 'Voldemort' persona to make an appearance. He had to meet some of the others today and first impressions were vital. Tom's trigger finger jerked as if he could sense the rising panic clouding Harry's mind.

Harry leaned against the wall ignoring any scrutiny breathing an inaudible sigh of relief when he felt Tom's eyes leave him as he introduced himself to another person who had just come in. Severus went and got a book to read and he and Hermione read silently, Harry and Tom standing to the sides lost in thought.

It was three days later before Tom unsettled Harry again.

Harry liked most of the people he had met with only a couple of exceptions.

Tom, Harry was dismayed to conclude, seemed to be interested in something about Harry. Harry felt like he was under a microscope in a laboratory, there was something intense in Tom's gaze that unnerved Harry. Tom seemed to be waiting for Harry to break or snap. Harry didn't know what to make of him, Tom had appeared polite, slightly distant but always polite however Harry could tell there was something simmering underneath the facade Tom was putting up and it was this that put Harry on edge.

* * *

Harry yawned as he slipped into his bed at the early hour of 8pm. Harry had had a trying couple of days at Hogwarts.

First the books had been wanting to read had either disappeared or he found them too late in the day, somewhere he would never have thought to look for them in the impressive library, just before he was leaving to go to dinner or to bed so he had no time to read them and they weren't allowed to take the books out of the library. It might seem a little odd to get so annoyed over not being able to find a book but the little things all added up to be incredibly frustrating for Harry.

Not to mention the fact that he had seen the books in their rightful places before he went to bed but by the next morning they had gone, moved to somewhere obscure and random.

Everyone sharing the communal area had agreed to split the fridges between one another so everyone got equal space for their drinks and extra foods they might want.

Harry always had some orange juice in the fridge, the nice stuff he chose. Now it might seem not much to others but Harry relished the fact he could buy his own juice and drink it when he wanted to, it gave him a sense of control over his life and cheered him up as he was never allowed orange juice when living with his aunt and uncle. It seemed small but the routine of orange juice in the morning and having the option of it calmed Harry, it was reassuring. Call him OCD but it was therapeutic.

So one morning he went to the fridge to get his juice before breakfast (he couldn't stand the squash served), he pulled out the carton got a glass and poured out a full glass before setting the juice back into the fridge. Upon swallowing Harry realised his juice had been swapped with a strong disgusting squash the exact same colour as his normal juice. Thus his day that day was ruined and he spent the rest of it looking over his shoulder and jumping at the smallest noises.

Plus everyone looked at him oddly when he settled himself knees bent to his chest arms wrapped around them in the corner of the reading room but were polite enough not to question him. They all had their odd quirks.

They wouldn't be in the Hogwarts institution without being odd or 'socially inept and confused by societies norms' was how one person described them. Harry found that stupid. They understood social conventions perfectly they just felt no need to conform to them. Admittedly Hermione got lost in her books and forgot to eat, drink and sleep which wasn't normal and she did unconsciously but that didn't mean she didn't understand that it wasn't 'normal'. Harry had just snorted and said it was normal, for Hermione, and that was all that mattered.

He didn't quite understand why Hermione went suddenly tearful at his statement and felt the need to hug the breath out of him. His ribs felt bruised for hours afterwards.

Whenever he came back from the bathroom or putting something away he would find his stuff slightly moved or adjusted and he would trip over something that hadn't been there before he left. It was absolutely infuriating!

Harry was great under pressure, rarely lost his cool, but little tiny petty annoyances always set him off.

Harry knew who was doing all these things and yet he couldn't really complain because who would care if his juice was switched? Some would think it a good prank. Who cared if a book he had been reading was moved a few centimetres, someone probably wanted to know what he had been reading. Who cared if he couldn't find the book he wanted to read? There were plenty others in the library. And Harry had no proof it was even Tom.

It made Harry paranoid and twitchy. This made his temper and control fray even further as he hated it when these habits returned, it meant he was letting _them_ win.

Harry glared hidden in his corner. Tom, the object of his frustration, didn't even turn round. Tom was doing a thousand and one petty things so that Harry would eventually lose it and 'Voldemort' would be unleashed. Harry couldn't understand Tom's obsession with Harry's alter ego, as far as Harry was concerned 'Voldemort' could stay as far away as possible and never return. Alas Harry knew Tom was close to cracking him.

* * *

In the evening after another mildly awkward day of getting to know everyone in the rooms and trying to ignore Tom's tricks, Tom came over to where Harry was sitting and sat in a chair directly opposite. Harry had decided to be vaguely sociable by grabbing one of his books and sitting in the common room. He had chosen a chair in the far corner hoping no one would come over and talk to him.

Harry had felt restless for days and he knew soon enough his 'Voldemort' persona would come out to play and that was the problem. His 'Voldemort' persona could play the Harry side to him immaculately, granted he usually didn't have enough patience to but he still could. When 'Voldemort' chose to be patient he caused devastation for Harry and those around him with his subtle barbs, sadistic nature and slow acting malevolent schemes.

Harry fidgeted slightly turning the page of his book to make it seem as if he didn't realise he was being observed by the man sitting opposite him. Harry could feel the conflicting emotions rising from Tom, one of smugness-he knew Harry was uncomfortable under his gaze and he knew Harry was aware that he knew this. The second emotion being irritation, Tom didn't like to be ignored.

Harry sighed and pierced Tom with an uncharacteristically sharp look. "Not to be rude, but what do you want?" Harry asked he could almost feel his barriers shredding. Tom smirked slightly, to anyone else it would have been a smile but Harry knew Tom was smirking.

"That is a rather loaded question, I want many things. Narrow it down." This last was said as a command not a request. Harry felt the irritation roll off him and felt his tenuous control snap.

* * *

"I would enquire as to what you want with me or what you want to see me do but then that would be rather redundant since I already know the answer." Harry stated in a smoother than usual voice a rougher look on his face that though made him more rugged also made him seem darker, much less approachable than his usual easy charm.

So this is 'Voldemort' then Tom thought to himself observing the arrogant derisive tone the person in front of him now used a marked contrast to the seemingly easy going laid back confidence Harry usually possessed. Tom caught the words Voldemort said and frowned, a slight crease of the eyebrows most wouldn't have caught. Voldemort's smirk grew and his eyes snapped up.

"So what is it I am supposedly trying to figure out about you? Who says I am not just trying to get to know my new inmates better?" Tom replied head held high but voice remaining contemplative.

'Voldemort' chuckled darkly. "Because you have read the files on each of the people staying in Hogwarts even the staff and my file sticks out the most, disregarding yours, of course." 'Voldemort' smirked triumphantly eyes gleaming with mocking derision and unholy glee.

Tom was momentarily startled, he hadn't realised that anyone else in the group had hacked the files already. The surprise didn't last long however and Tom's cool mask fell back as he leaned back to take stock of his newest opponent. Tom had believed that the reports were exaggerating as Harry really didn't appear to be anything like the 'Voldemort' persona, in fact he had appeared nervous and timid for the last couple of days not in a way that made him seem weak just normal, average.

'Voldemort' had a hungry look about him as he stared with interest at Tom eyes never swerving from his face. Tom briefly felt unnerved, was this what people felt like when under his scrutiny? He shook off the feeling and returned the gaze with slightly more hesitancy than usual. He had deeply underestimated his opponent. It was a mistake he hoped not to make again.

"What sticks out about my file?" Tom asked his voice toneless, bereft of emotion. He was genuinely confused, his file was maybe a little more bloodthirsty than most but compared to the people in this room it was not really much more than the average. In fact Gellert Grindelwald probably had the most accounts of murder and illegal activities to his name out of all of them. Whether or not Tom had committed more than him was irrelevant, he wasn't caught red handed.

'Voldemort' smiled chillingly. "The utter lack of information." He stated smoothly a slight smirk on his lips. Tom made sure not to clench his fists at the lack of an informative answer but something about the superior look 'Voldemort' wore assured him that 'Voldemort' somehow knew what he had been tempted to do, it was unsettling.

"What is surprising about the apparent lack of information on my file?" Tom asked keeping his tone even.

'Voldemort's' eyes widened in faux shock the smirk not leaving his face. "Someone like you, someone with an intellect nearly rivalling my own, someone possessing a certain lack of morals only has five counts of murder on their record? You only have a few other situations linking you to crime, although never directly. I find it hard to believe someone with your brains has committed so little offenses.

I admit just looking at the file could make my deductions little more than wrong assumptions but observing you begs to differ." 'Voldemort' finished triumphantly and leaned back his face losing the harsh look and the eyes gentling. Tom was unnerved at the comparison between him and 'Voldemort'.

Harry looked at Tom a warm but hesitant smile on his lips, it was utterly fake. Tom leaned forward slightly, absolutely fascinated. In what were usually clear brilliant green eyes now held shadows as Harry leaned back further into his chair and further away from the light.

"Now that you've met 'Voldemort' would you please stop mixing up my juice, hiding my books and tripping me up." Harry asked softly but with a hint of condescension that made Tom bristle indignantly inside, he hated being talked down to.

"Maybe." Tom replied with an infuriating smirk. Harry's lips twitched, whether in amusement or irritation Tom couldn't tell.

"You do realise the tricks are rather juvenile, don't you?" Harry asked one eyebrow raised in query and slight mocking derision.

Tom shrugged unrepentantly, he wasn't going to get wound up by a few words and he did realise the tricks were...childish, however, Tom couldn't do anything more extreme as one people would notice and two Harry seemed calm under intense pressure.

When Neville (a disaster in the kitchen) ended up burning his hand and dropping a knife at the same time onto his arm Harry had calmly sorted it all out and then cleaned the bloodstained surfaces with nothing more than a cheerful smile, hands more certain and sure than usual where there was always a bit of hesitancy or contemplation about his movements.

So yes, Tom didn't care if his tricks were childish, it got the job done.

But Tom really hadn't expected Harry to crack so soon... There was something, one of the little tricks he had done had struck a nerve somewhere. Tom's eyes narrowed as he observed Harry. Whenever he executed a part of his scheme or got someone else to do something he stayed away from the area, an alibi or whatever. So he didn't see Harry's reactions to the somewhat petty tricks. Yes there was something that had unnerved Harry, made him crack that much faster.

It seemed Tom had a new mission.

Harry in turn scrutinised Tom, lingering on the dark eyes filled with a burning curiosity.

* * *

Hermione Granger peered over the cover of her book at the corner where Tom and Harry had sequestered themselves. She gently nudged Ronald Weasley in the arm and discretely pointed at the two seated opposite one another silently staring.

"Look at them. The intensity is rather creepy, don't you think?" Hermione whispered cautiously. Ron looked the two over and shuddered.

"They both are a bit odd. It's almost as if they have to act to behave normally, it's as though their responses are choreographed." Ron added his own insight. Hermione stared at him in slight shock, she hadn't realised he could be so intuitive. Another voice joined in.

"That is because they don't know how to act 'normally', but have to put on a show because other people get, to use your words, 'creeped out' by their scrutinising stares. It makes them less singled out from other people, means they can blend in. It is a flawless deception however the truth is much more beautifully warped." A low silky voice put in. Ron and Hermione jumped and turned to see Severus smirking at their surprised reactions.

"You sound almost as if you want them to not act at all." Hermione commented warily. Severus smiled a little sadly the expression in his black eyes unfathomable.

"No, I do not want to see the truth. They act for a reason. Rather I wish there was no need for them to act. However, much as we speculate they don't act the majority of the time they just temper their responses, much like someone with anger management issues." Severus inflected eyes not leaving the fascinating duo sitting in the shadows.

"Yes, they can't naturally interact properly with normal people." Ron observed not looking concerned by this at all.

"It's a good thing none of us are normal then." Severus said with dry humour.

"You know, for all that Harry is open, nervous, warm and kind those two are pretty similar. I can't quite decide if they are chalk and cheese or exactly the same." Hermione commented before bidding them a goodnight.

* * *

Harry aware of the eyes on his form slowly withdrew his orange juice from the fridge. He couldn't call Tom out on his staring as it was only obvious to him that Tom wasn't avidly reading the newspaper and buttering some toast. Harry could almost sense the unwavering eyes locked on his body's responses and facial features.

He carefully placed a tall glass on the side and opened the lid of his orange juice slowly contemplating what Tom had done to his juice today. His mood was already wrecked and his eyes were flicking everywhere in paranoia.

Pouring out a generous amount Harry placed the carton back into the fridge making sure the cap was securely screwed on. He discretely sniffed the juice. It smelled normal. Inwardly shrugging but keeping a wary eye on the man now slowly munching on a mouthful of toast Harry tipped the glass in an unacknowledged salute and took a sip ready to wince at the taste of horrid, too strong squash.

To his delight and renewing suspicions the glass held his normal orange juice. Harry felt most of the tension in his frame drain away as the soothingly sweet taste swept his tongue. His happy mood resurfaced and he smiled a small smile, not much more than an upward tilt to the lips. He was in control of his life, to some extent, he could do what he wanted and he could chose something as simple as orange juice for breakfast in the morning.

When he eventually looked back to the table his original annoyance briefly surged but at a much more muted level tempered even further by the look of surprise carefully hidden in Tom's features. Tom, it seemed, hadn't fully realised the full detrimental effect swapping his orange juice had had on Harry's mentality.

And Harry realised and had been told again and again it was not healthy or logical to depend on something as trivial as orange juice for breakfast but that didn't take away the fact that it did relax him and everyone had their own ways of coping, some people by meditating or drinking a cup of tea. Harry had his orange juice.

His 'helper/friend', the psychologist set to work on him personally, had not found Harry's argument that if 'Dumbo had his feather that he believed made him fly' then Harry could have his orange juice, half as well thought out or logical as Harry had thought it. Apparently Disney characters weren't an accurate representation of real life.

Harry sat down next to Tom clutching his half filled glass of orange juice tightly, like a life line. Piercing Tom with a sharp stare Harry spoke. "Please, whatever you decide to do for those experiments you're planning; please just leave my orange juice out of it." Harry pleaded softening his harsh stare and employing the use of puppy eyes unconsciously.

Tom shot an unreadable look at Harry before nodding cautiously in assent. Harry slumped in his chair sighing in slight relief. He knew that Tom hadn't fully agreed not to tamper with his juice but he would leave it alone for now.

Harry hummed happily as he finished his juice, feeling for the first time since he had arrived at Hogwarts, content.

* * *

Ron and Hermione, Harry decided, were made for each other.

They would probably deny it to their dying day but the way they bickered like an old married couple, the way they managed to guess completely accurately what the other was trying to explain. The way Ron bossed Hermione into eating and drinking when she got caught up in her research and reading and the way Hermione scolded Ron about his perpetual foot-in-mouth problem; it was utterly obvious to those watching that after two months of living together (after their brief vicious argument at the beginning) they were almost co-dependent on one another.

Tom and Severus rolled their eyes whenever it was brought up and Harry just snickered at Ron and Hermione's red faces.

* * *

Tom and Harry had a semi tradition to sit together and chat or read in the evening in the corner of the lounge room.

It was one of those times that Tom noticed Harry's fidgeting with mingled amusement and increasing annoyance.

Harry would first run a hand through his hair, then bounce his knee, then twiddle his fingers before sighing looking rather skittish and nervy. At each sigh Tom's fingers tightened around the edges of his book. Tom glared at Harry as he repeated the odd jumpy process.

"Enough!" Tom ordered snapping his book shut. "What on earth has you so so...twitchy?!" Tom asked frustration plain. Harry jerked not anticipating the interruption, question or realising his own odd actions.

"They are watching us." Harry murmured barely loud enough for Tom to hear. Tom looked around carefully but didn't see anyone else in the room paying any attention to Harry or him. Tom raised an eyebrow at Harry's jittery form.

"Who is 'they'?" Tom asked dubiously. Harry grimaced before shushing Tom but he didn't answer. Tom rolled his eyes and returned to his book. Harry returned to his fidgety movements.

Hermione came over worriedly taking in Harry's tensely coiled form. "Harry no one is watching you." She soothed sounding rather condescending to Tom's point of view. Tom inwardly bristled, Granger wasn't allowed to be condescending towards Harry, or ignore what he said. Tom disregarded the fact that he had been doing just that.

"How do you know, Granger?" Tom asked in a deceptively smooth voice. Hermione frowned at Tom for encouraging Harry's paranoia.

"Because there isn't anyone watching us, Harry's just wrong this time." Tom raised an eyebrow and Hermione flushed at her lack of tact eyeing Harry to see if he noticed but Harry was far off in his own world looking at the corners of the walls suspiciously.

"Well" Tom shrugged one elegant shoulder. "I believe Harry is right." At this Harry snapped his attention towards Tom an unnerving intensity to his eyes.

"You believe me?!" Harry said disbelievingly. At Tom's cautious nod Harry grinned widely and grabbed Tom's arm disregarding his usual avoidance of touch as well as Tom's disinclination towards touching. Harry dragged him over to the bookcase ignoring the walls he had been studying intently.

Harry removed a book casually talking to Tom about something insignificant while he used his eyes, eyebrows and subtle hand gestures to indicate what he was really saying. Taking the hint Tom looked behind the book and saw nothing but the back of the bookcase on the bottom shelf near the locked bottom draw. Tom raised a sceptical brow, he didn't really believe there was someone watching them he had just wanted to spite Granger who was watching a little smugly from the corner.

Harry sighed and dropped the book forgoing subtlety and hidden agendas. He reached back into the bookcase and pulled the segment of book shelf off from what had appeared to be a smooth surface. To Hermione and Tom's amazement Harry then proceeded to pull wires from the small revealed compartment and pulled out a hidden camera attached to the keyhole of the locked draw, the camera was spying through the keyhole.

Harry placed the tiny camera into Tom's hand after showing a gobsmacked Hermione.

"Thank you." Harry whispered heart felted. Tom smiled at the thanks pushing down his guilt that he hadn't at all believed Harry; he had only said that to raise Granger's ire. But Harry had been correct.

Tom eyed Harry, how on earth had he known the camera was there?

* * *

I probably won't be completing this, or rather, I'm not sure it isn't complete as it is. If I write any more I'll put it up but this is sort of open ended. However I am studying psychology so I does interest me however wrong I am portraying it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Warnings: Vague mentions of child abuse. **

**Again inaccuracies in mental health problems.**

**Harry's problem sort of reminded me of the Hulk and Bruce...sort of.**

* * *

Tom, Harry and Hermione informed the others about the bug Harry had found, the hidden camera in the bookcase.

The various reactions had been...illuminating. In the end though, after many annoyed rants and a rather unsettling feral look that appeared on Gellert Grindelwald's and Severus Snape's faces, they came to an accord.

They all agreed to confront the staff when they came in later that day.

Bellatrix was unsettling usually anyway but the expression of unholy glee was especially unnerving when she turned that focus looking around the room for different things she could use, Bellatrix was remarkable inventive when figuring out how to torture or kill people using ordinary everyday items. Thankfully she got more pleasure out of envisioning the scenarios rather than enacting them.

Still Bellatrix obviously scared the attendants that entered the room to check up on them all.

There was a woman with mousy coloured hair and a heart shaped face, a ready smile on her warm face as she tripped over nearly everything in the room you could trip over, a small man with an excited smile not at all put out by the hostile looks sent his way, a man with a slight paunch, stringy brown hair and a bowler hat and Poppy, the nurse who had shown Harry his rooms when he had first arrived.

Albus stepped forward a gentle smile on his age worn face attempting to relax them. Albus was a gentle old man in many respects, he didn't like causing others pain and did like helping but he was sometimes so focused on his research or ideas that he forgot and he could be ruthless to attain the data he wanted. Normally though Albus was a kindly man in his late sixties, ready with a grandfatherly smile and sound words of odd advice.

"It is nice to see you..." Albus trailed off pointedly the warm smile on his face never slipping as he gently chided them into introducing themselves.

"I'm Poppy Pomphrey, this is Nymphadora Tonks," Here Poppy gestured towards the clumsy mousy haired woman ignoring the woman's protests that it was 'just Tonks'. "Colin Creevey," Poppy gestured towards the excitable looking small man who waved enthusiastically beaming at them. "Cornelius Fudge." Poppy gestured to the last man with the bowler hat who looked a little put out to be introduced last.

"Nice to meet you." Albus greeted genially. "Now, I am sorry to start straight in with a little unpleasant business but it needs to be addressed unfortunately." Albus began still looking harmlessly polite despite the slightly scolding frown on his face. Colin Creevey shuffled awkwardly at Albus' slight admonishment flushing as he examined his toes.

"Now I thought it was understood that we weren't going to be observed, that we would be granted privacy." Albus remarked softly piercing the attendants with bright blue eyes from over the top of his half moon spectacles. From Tonks, Cornelius and Colin's squirms he was employing the look that made you feel like you were being x-rayed, as if Albus could see everything and knew exactly what you were thinking.

It was unnerving and made you feel like you were disappointing the man in front of you, no one really liked disappointing Albus.

"O-of course. You aren't being observed, we are supposed to come up every now and then and see you." Cornelius stated puffing up importantly eyes betraying him as they flicked towards the bookcase momentarily when he lied. Tom rolled his eyes, honestly, the man was an incompetent buffoon.

Albus' countenance chilled slightly, enough to catch your notice but not enough to frighten. Cornelius gulped.

"Then I can trust no more such invasions of privacy will occur?" Albus asked mildly his eyes showing the seriousness of his benign request. Cornelius swallowed eyes flickering over everyone in the room as though expecting help from a hidden source.

Cornelius paled as he met the forbidding expression on most of the inhabitants faces, he barely looked at Severus before his gaze skittered away. When he met Tom's eyes however he couldn't look away completely swayed by the utter malice in the look, it was far more frightening than Severus' look but Cornelius felt trapped unable to look away like a hare caught in the gaze of a predator, frozen with fear and the knowledge that this was it, there was no coming back.

Eventually Cornelius nodded, pale faced and gaze studiously settled far away from Tom.

Albus smiled warmly. "Good, I'm glad that's all settled. Here, I think this belongs to you." Albus said handing a completely shattered near unrecognisable small camera. Cornelius took it with a slightly trembling hand.

Tonks, Colin and Poppy looked mildly bewildered as they watched the exchange.

Just as they were leaving Tom called out to them. "Oh and don't worry, I scrambled all the recorded footage. Just so there was no chance of the footage being released." Tom said with a chilling smile crossing his handsome features. Cornelius didn't even try to hide his visible gulp as he was speared by the icy gaze.

Harry grinned as the attendants left feeling a weight off his shoulders. He hated being watched, hated being under the microscope of another. He didn't like being the centre of attention and the thought of being filmed through a hidden camera rankled and put him on edge, something that made 'Voldemort' all the more susceptible to take over.

* * *

xxx

Tom sat in his seat opposite Harry and eyeing him curiously; it was a wonder Harry had caught his attention for this long let alone Harry still being a puzzle to him, which was unprecedented.

Tom thought of people as puzzles, most were childlike puzzles, big jigsaw pieces easily slotted together and the pattern easily spotted with a dull inane picture covering the entire puzzle. Some rare few people had more puzzle pieces; some even had hundreds of pieces to them. Some even had fascinating patterns, or made Tom pause as he tried to figure out how the pieces slotted together.

That Tom still hadn't quite managed to complete the puzzle that was Harry Potter was, well, unusual to say the least. It was like Tom had nearly completed the puzzle but frustratingly he couldn't find the correct piece to slot in next, like he had missed a piece. Or it was like the pattern kept changing, as though Harry was a puzzle that kept moving, the solution always just out of reach.

Tom didn't know whether to feel annoyed or exhilarated.

Harry was so...ordinary. But he wasn't, it was more he seemed so ordinary and then would do something that sent all preconceived notions of Harry's character for the spin and Tom was left reeling unable to find the piece he had missed, the essential bit of data that Harry had hidden.

Harry, whose intelligence was above average sure- but nothing on Tom's, would suddenly come out with a comment, a simple statement cut to the bone, grasping ideas that Tom was struggling with.

It was as though Harry could take the genius, the indecipherable and summarise it with a statement anyone could understand. As though he was a translator for the common man. It helped Tom order his thoughts when he was lost in his speculations and hypothesis, or when he was scrambling for something on the tip of his tongue and a simple sentence from Harry illuminated the path leading straight to the answer.

And Tom wasn't quite sure what that made him feel, the knowledge that with someone else's help his thought processes sparked quicker and that someone else's focus managed to become a must have. Much like food and drink Harry was necessary for Tom's mind to reach it's absolute best.

It was a mixture of fascinating and abhorrent. Tom never ever relied on another person and the simple fact that he worked better with anyone, even if it was Harry, was startling.

Tom eyed the slight figure on the chair in front of him curled up slightly reading a book. Grey eyes mapped the other mans various expressions avidly lingering on the bright green eyes narrowed in concentration at the book taking up his attention.

Tom dismissed the slight feeling of jealousy the rose up along with a fair amount of possessiveness. He was not jealous of a book dam it! He was not jealous of the attention Harry was paying the paper pages stamped with dark words, nor was he jealous of the fascination that twisted the pleasing features as he devoured the book.

Tom watched the myriad of expressions chase themselves over that expressive face, did Harry know he could be such an open book?

Eventually Harry realised he was being observed and he resurfaced the real world blinking slightly confused, it was intriguing how Harry managed to actually lose himself in the fantasy world of fiction. Harry stared quizzically at Tom a slight blush spreading across his cheekbones. Tom resisted the urge to smile slightly; Harry did not like to be the focus of someone's attention.

"Yes?" Harry asked after a few moments silence that Tom was loath to break as he had finally got Harry's attention from the book without having to do anything than stare at him. Tom leaned back in his seat fingers linking together as he watched Harry's face avidly, timing his question and tone in which he delivered it carefully.

"Why are you so scared of 'Voldemort'?" Tom asked curiously. It had been puzzling him that Harry, a man not really afraid of anything or at least someone who didn't let fear overtake his actions so obviously apprehensive of a manifestation of himself. It was incongruous with everything else Tom had learnt about Harry.

Harry inhaled sharply, turning mildly wary and confused green eyes to observe Tom.

"Isn't it obvious?" Harry asked no little surprise colouring his tone. Tom blinked eyes narrowing fractionally. He had been expecting denial or at least a hesitant explanation not incredulity at his having to ask aloud the question.

"No I do not find it 'obvious'." Tom bit out, he did not like people being condescending towards him, he had barely tolerated it as a five year old let alone the adult he was now. Harry actually looked puzzled that he hadn't worked it out yet.

"I suppose I don't like the idea that he could do anything he wanted using my body." Harry spoke haltingly, choosing his words carefully. Tom frowned.

"You don't like that he could get you in trouble because it looks like you're doing all the damage?" Tom stated questioningly and more than a little sceptical. Harry was far too disgustingly noble to be worried about being in trouble, he would be more focused on those that 'Voldemort' had harmed not the trouble he would face. Tom was more than a little sickened by Harry's martyr nature.

Harry shook his head in the negative. "No, that's not what I meant. Obviously I don't want to be held responsible for anything morally wrong that 'Voldemort' does. No it's more...I know what he is capable of, I know how much damage he could cause and it's like I'm a ticking bomb, that one day 'Voldemort' will raze cities to the ground." Harry said quietly a slightly haunted look in his eyes.

Tom raised an eyebrow. Harry had said 'morally wrong' not 'against the law' or 'illegal'. That said that Harry had no objection at breaking the law if he didn't agree with it or if he felt the cause was worth it.

Tom surveyed Harry thoughtfully. So, Harry was frightened because he_ knew_ 'Voldemort'. Harry was afraid because of the potential 'Voldemort' had.

"That is like being afraid of a Tsunami because of the destruction they can cause." Tom stated still curiously examining Harry. Harry blinked.

"But Tsunamis are an act of nature; no one can stop them from happening. And you can't live in terror of one because one day there might be one." Harry said not missing the gleam of triumph that lit Tom's eyes as he spoke. Harry reviewed his words.

"Parallels in the situations. You can no more stop 'Voldemort' from doing as he wishes than you can stop the earth from orbiting the sun. You are not accountable for his actions." Tom stated, 'Voldemort' was a whole other person, it was like 'Voldemort' and Harry were separate people they just looked exactly the same, like identical twins. Seeing Harry wasn't completely convinced Tom switched tracks.

"Tell me this then: Why hasn't 'Voldemort' ever 'razed cities to the ground'? Hmmm? If as you say he is capable of it then why hasn't he?" Tom asked pointedly.

"I think you are scared of 'Voldemort' because you know everything about him. But if you think about it everyone is capable of causing at least some damage to people and society. Anyone can kill someone, everyone is capable of it you just need to find the correct trigger. I think you are scared of 'Voldemort' because you know what he is capable of. Keep in mind though that he hasn't done any of those things despite his inclination towards the darker side of life." Tom tracked each and every expression that crossed Harry's face as he speculated out loud.

He mapped the denial, the confusion, the utter bewilderment. Harry sat thoughtfully in silence mulling over Tom's words. He hadn't ever thought of that before, too caught up in trying to prevent 'Voldemort' from coming into the fray he hadn't given a thought as to why, when 'Voldemort' did take over, he didn't cause irreparable damage on a mass scale.

"You're scared of the gun before anyone picks it up. Scared of the potential when it is the person holding the gun you should be wary of. I believe you are scared because you aren't in control when 'Voldemort' takes over, you're utterly helpless and you do so hate to be vulnerable." Tom unclasped his hands as Harry took this in, the truth striking so resolutely that Harry couldn't refute Tom's claims.

And to be honest knowing why he was so afraid of 'Voldemort' didn't change anything. He wasn't miraculously unafraid and nor did Tom expect him to be. It did however change his perception of 'Voldemort' slightly though.

'Voldemort' had killed people with no remorse, 'Voldemort' had stolen, cheated, hurt, blackmailed and even tortured people but he always did it with a reason. Not that Harry thought that gave him any excuse just that 'Voldemort' didn't do anything without reason. He wouldn't blow up an entire city because 'Voldemort' wouldn't see the point. 'Voldemort' was sadistic but only slightly, he didn't go around torturing because he wanted to hear pain filled screams.

In fact 'Voldemort' seemed to want to find things to do, intellectual puzzles that skated along the line of legality (and often dipped a foot on the wrong side of the line). And hacking the files of everyone he was living with was a tactical move on 'Voldemort's' part, it was keeping 'Voldemort' and, by default, Harry safe.

It was something Harry had always known at the back of his mind but he hadn't put any thought to it, had disregarded it. It was startling to come to the conclusion that 'Voldemort' wasn't quite the danger Harry had thought. Make no mistake, 'Voldemort' was still just as dangerous but there was no reason for him to destroy the lives of hundreds, thousands, millions, so he wouldn't.

Harry wasn't quite sure that he should have felt so relieved at that thought.

Tom left him in silence still ruminating as the night drew on, well, more early morning than night.

* * *

xxx

Tom satisfied for the time being with the unexpected puzzle that was Harry had descended onto his books losing himself in the theoretical ideas, on the many possibilities and flitting from one subject to another without discernible pattern.

One day he was reading up on the new discoveries wrought in the field of medicine and the mind affecting drugs and the neuroscience that related, the next day he was exploring the field of astrophysics etc. His mind moved too quickly to stay stuck on one subject for long, he needed a focus a project or he grew stagnant, prickly and irascible.

Tom wondered through the halls aimlessly, taking a break from his books when he realised sitting in the same position for twenty hours was not doing his joints or comfort any good. It mildly unsettled him that he could lose track of time so easily. Not unsettling enough for him to forcibly break the habit however.

The faint sound of music caught his ears and Tom walked towards the sound drawn by the emotive music. Trite as it was the music called to him, Tom near shuddered at the unbearable sentimentality of the notion. The piano music was soulful in a way Tom had only ever heard when he had listened to a concert violinist once. He had stopped listening to music once he realised that it was dull, all bland unless the performer put their heart into it, it changed it in some way that Tom was loath to put a name to. Sentimentality again.

It was the one area where he thought was actually improved by another's _feelings_.

He supposed he put his focus and emotion into his work as did professional performers and that had the drive to make it _more_ somehow.

He still maintained that sentiment, feelings were a downfall and made you weaker but he did acknowledge that to some people they were their strength. Sentiment was a liability Tom made sure not to succumb to.

Tom halted as he came to the door of a small room its sole occupant sitting at a piano stool loving caressing the white and black keys producing a melody fraught with near tangible emotions. Long shuddery notes for a more melancholy twist, bright staccato beats for a lively upbeat joyful part, thundering low notes for anger and simmering fury and warm median tones showing content.

Tom knew he shouldn't have been surprised, he had noticed the particular calluses on Harry's fingers that marked him out as a keen pianist but he hadn't fully noted that observation with the connotation that Harry could and did play well, that it pleased him to play.

And it was obvious that Harry was enthralled in this. He hadn't noticed Tom's entrance, a sheer sign of something occupying Harry's full attention. Even asleep Harry couldn't be snuck up on. Harry had lost himself within the haunting melody with abandon. His shoulders for once weren't taught with tension or held ready for anything, eyes half lidded as he absently watched his fingers or the music stand attacked to the piano lost in his own musings. Utterly relaxed, this was Harry at his base level, emotions on full display, completely at anyone's mercy, enraptured.

It was like his soul was bared for perusal, bared for all and sundry.

Tom almost felt like he was intruding a private display before he dismissed the notion, he rarely if ever felt the need to adhere to social norms like giving people privacy.

Tom leaned against the wall listening to the music that wrapped around him, filling the air with its odd almost discordant melody that was no less the beautiful for it contrasting emotions and thrilling changes in direction.

It was hours later (Tom hadn't even tried to keep count of the time passing) that Harry finished loving putting the piano lid down and caressing the smooth wood an absent and almost wistful smile crossing his face. Harry startled as he turned and caught sight of Tom his natural barriers automatically rising again.

Despite Tom's intrigue over the barriers he felt a slight sense of loss that they had come up. He shrugged that away, there was no point lamenting Harry's instinctive need for barriers and the emotion was puzzling in itself.

"How long have you been there?" Harry asked head tilted to one side eyes narrowed as he looked up at Tom. Harry wasn't short, a bit taller than average, but Tom was over six foot and had a presence that almost made it feel like he was perpetually looming over you regardless of your height.

Tom, too poised to shrug, rose a dismissive eyebrow.

"What time is it now?" Tom asked blandly. Harry nodded that was an answer in its own, Tom had been there for quite a while then.

Harry looked back once at the piano before leaving matching his steps to Tom's purposeful stride. They walked in silence both enjoying the quiet companionship in the simple action. Tom felt just lethargic enough not to be thinking too heavily on anything, he hadn't slept in longer than twenty-eight hours after all. From the light shadows under Harry's eyes he hadn't slept in a while either.

Neither Tom nor Harry were inclined to a good nights rest and not for lack of trying.

Harry sighed as their steps led them to the extensive grounds at Hogwarts. His breath misted in a cloud briefly before dissipating. It was the quiet time just between night and morning where everywhere seems to be holding its breath or sleeping for the time being. It was soothing, Harry felt, to have company during the silence in the dark.

Neither felt compelled to wander far outside, it was cold after all, so they walked to the edge of the grass that stretched out for hundreds of yards before it came to a rather ominous forest they weren't supposed to enter. There they halted standing in silence shivering slightly at the cool air, it wasn't yet frigid but just enough to make them notice.

"Do you play any instruments?" Harry asked breaking the fragile silence with a calmly asked question curiosity turning up the ends of his lilting sentence.

"No. I never had the inclination and there are so few musicians that I can bear listening to." Tom stated eyeing Harry's flush of embarrassed pleasure as he correctly fished out the hidden complement, that he had stayed listening to Harry for hours said more than Tom cared to vocalise. He had found Harry's music mesmerising in the vivid emotions Harry painted it with.

It wasn't as technically perfect as many successful pianists but it did not lack for soul, passion. Something far more worthwhile than any piece played technically perfectly.

Harry's music had a vivacity to it, a zest for life that Harry showed.

"How long have you been playing?" Tom asked curiously. You didn't instantly become a good or even great pianist over night; the piano was one of the harder instruments to master. Harry must have been playing for years and as young as he was must have picked it up quickly.

"Since I was a child." Harry responded vaguely. Tom nodded not pursuing the question further, Harry would tell him or he would find out soon enough. He was too tired to force the issue now and he didn't want to break the easy peace that existed between them just yet, just this once he would enjoy the moment.

Besides Tom had noted a caginess to Harry whenever the subject of his childhood was brought up. Tom could fill in the blanks quite easily (mostly from past experience) and as yet he had no need to pry, he could deduce the answers from Harry's reactions easily.

Together they watched the early sunrise breathing in tandem.

It was unusual for both of them to relax so much in another's company but both desisted in examining in the reasons why.

Harry sighed turning back to the castle that looked almost inviting in the light from the sunrise warming the ancient stone. It had been peaceful, something both nearly never experienced and it was a shame to finish the moment.

* * *

xxx

Harry hummed as he searched through the kitchen utensils keeping an eye on the stove.

He had woken up feeling unusually content (not just from the fact he had actually slept properly for once) and so had decided to cook a proper meal when his good mood continued throughout the day.

Harry didn't cook often but he found the few times he did that it relaxed him, he couldn't cook to relax himself but if he was already fairly relaxed cooking mellowed his mood considerably. Cooking while stressed however ended up in some of the kitchen burning or knives ending up in precarious places.

Harry washed up slowly as the lasagne cooked in the oven, a warm, hearty smell filling the room. He absently noted Ron entering the room, smiling in thanks as the red head dried the dishes and utensils he had already washed putting them away. It was in a friendly companionable silence they cleaned up.

Inevitably nearly everyone gravitated to the kitchen and where the delicious smell was coming from. It happened every time any of them deigned to cook. Severus surprisingly was a good cook; he made odd exotic dishes that were very nice. Neville wasn't bad, he cooked vegetarian dishes only though, he didn't like preparing and cooking meat for some reason. Luna was...eccentric even for the group and her choice of food was usually avoided, not everyone had a taste for Marmite and peanut butter sandwiches or curries that you could fuel a car with, Harry had thought his mouth was actually burning. Hermione was not allowed near the cooker. She had managed to burn pasta.

Ron always helped out in the kitchen, washing or drying dishes, peeling potatoes etc. He said it reminded him of when he was living with his family, five brothers and one sister, and helping his mum. Ron bemoaned the fact they couldn't all share the delights of Molly Weasley's kitchen, unbeatable home cooking apparently. (From the cookies she had sent Ron to share with them all Harry had to agree.)

There were several kitchens but whenever one person cooked they cooked for everyone, it was a sort of unspoken rule.

Harry tried to suppress a wince as he watched Luna add mayonnaise and a mountain of pepper to her lasagne.

He listened with a grin as Ron recounted some escapade two of his older brothers, Fred and George, twins, had gotten up to in their youth. Apparently they had turned their mischievous natures into a successful enterprise; they were budding entrepreneurs with three joke shops already under their belts. Harry couldn't help the slight pang of jealousy towards Ron for having grown up with such a loving family with so many siblings but he was glad that his friend had experienced such a good childhood.

Tonight it seemed, was a time for each of them to divulge a childhood misdemeanour. Harry and the others had laughed uproariously at some of the things Albus, Ron, Bellatrix and Luna had described. Severus' dark humour was amusing as he added snarky anecdotes to his story.

Neither Tom nor Harry missed Severus' omissions as he spoke clearly editing as few things slightly to decrease the true far more sad version of the story. Nor did they miss the tightening of his hands when he mentioned the word 'father'.

Harry did some editing himself as he told of the time he had had to escape his cousin and accidently ended up on the school roof, he hadn't thought he had climbed so far up the drainpipe. It had taken the caretaker getting a ladder to get him down.

Tom's story also was the edited version, one of his misdemeanours at the orphanage toned down.

That evening Severus joined Harry and Tom in their usual spot in the corner of the 'lounge' room.

"It is rather amusing that although society puts such an emphasis on childhood and that people coming from a 'bad home' are somehow more likely to turn out 'wrong' that the majority of people here in Hogwarts are from perfectly stable home lives." Severus remarked dryly. Harry grinned.

"I know, it depends on the person. A small bit on their home life but it is what people do to rise above their past that defines them. I had a friend once; he was an utter snob a rich kid who used his father to get anywhere. It was 'my father will hear about this' or 'wait until my father finds out', eventually he, through a kidnapping, realised his father wasn't the be all and end all. He stood on his own feet in the end but it took far longer because his mother and father doted on him." Harry commented remembering Draco with fondness.

They had hated each other to begin with but after Draco finally began to realise he had to be his own person they had attempted a friendship, a friendship that was still going strong. It didn't hurt that Harry had helped Draco when they were kidnapped together.

Draco was still a rich twerp but he was alright once you got to know him and wickedly sarcastic.

Tom hummed in agreement.

"The past is important but not half so much as right now." Severus commented with an odd skew to his lips that suggested he was quoting something, a private joke.

"Enough maudlin, it's quite sickening." Tom said with an eye roll and the barest tilt of his lips that suggested at a smile.

"Why would they feel the need to spy on us? It wasn't the entire team as Tonks, Poppy and Colin all seemed surprised at the mere mention of the bug. So what is Cornelius Fudge's and whoever he is working for's game?" Tom said in a low voice making sure they weren't being watched or overheard. Harry frowned puzzling it out and Severus' face blanked as he pondered.

"It was only one camera in the lounge, not really somewhere where anything interesting would happen so could there be more in other places?" Harry asked looking mildly distressed at the thought of more cameras.

"If they were able to sneak one camera past our observance then they can do more." Tom bit out, annoyed at the situation. He had no desire to be watched. Severus blinked slowly.

"How did you spot it in the first place?" Severus asked Harry curiously. Tom also looked curious wondering why he hadn't voiced this question yet.

* * *

**Right, updates will be irregular and slow in coming...sorry. I wasn't planning on posting any more but I accidentally continued writing...**

**oops... (I'm not sure I have an actual plot...)...**

**...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Warnings for language and a bit of violence.**

**Also, these characters are not nice people, they have committed horrendous acts (all fictional of course) and so you will be seeing some of the nastier sides to their personalities.**

**I do not condone violence, this is just a story.**

* * *

xxx

This time Tom almost knew what was going to happen before it did.

Immediately after Severus' question (and how had Harry known about the camera?) Harry's face had changed. It was curious, the musculature structure of Harry's face almost seemed to shift slightly, the eyes visibly darkened and the voice, it was deeper and smoother than Harry's usual soothing tones. 'Voldemort' smirked thinly eyes tracing Severus' shocked features.

"Hmmm. I've got to keep some secrets..." 'Voldemort' said lips twisting at the corners. Tom leaned back in his chair observing the fascinating man before him.

It was incredibly contradictory that Harry, a naturally kind person with a soft countenance, had another facet to his personality in 'Voldemort'. 'Voldemort' was a part of Harry, or had been once, a part that had splintered off from Harry's main personality years ago and continued to shape itself after. It was more like there were two people who wore Harry's body than an actual divide of his personality.

And while 'Voldemort' unnerved Tom, which was odd enough by itself as no one unsettled Tom, both Harry and 'Voldemort' were utterly fascinating.

"Why did you name yourself 'Voldemort'? French: Flight from death." Tom asked curiously eyes gleaming with an unreadable emotion. Severus briefly felt as though he was intruding in a private moment between Tom and...Harry but he shoved it aside in favour of his curiosity. What on earth was going on?

Voldemort's smirk didn't waver but Tom noted the fixed set to his facial features, obviously Voldemort didn't want that question voiced and hadn't expected it. Tom resisted the urge to smirk smugly, he had managed to surprise Voldemort, it was better than being caught on the wrong foot like he had in their last conversation.

"Who says I named myself? Surely Harry would name me?" Voldemort returned voice nearly as smooth as it had been before the question had been asked. Tom smiled thinly.

"Harry would have named you with a simple name like John or Joe not a word in French that means flight from death. No you named yourself. Why?" Tom avidly watched as Voldemort nearly bristled at being called something so common, so ordinary as John or Joe. Obviously Voldemort held himself in high importance, was arrogant. Something Tom had already deduced but it showed just how much Voldemort loathed to be seen as ordinary, one of the masses.

Probably the only reason Voldemort had managed to keep a relatively low profile was because Harry was more often than not the one in charge. And at first glance Harry was ordinary. Voldemort at first glance was not ordinary; there was an almost tangible sense of power that Voldemort exuded. Tom used to being the most powerful in the room, the most brilliant, holding all the important cards to his chest was...put off by the feeling that for once he might not be the brightest, that he might not hold the winning card.

And from the satisfied look Voldemort sported he knew just how much he upset Tom's equilibrium by just being.

Albus and Gellert had nearly been a challenge but Tom had let it be, Albus was far too moral to be a real challenge to him and Gellert wasn't quite as clever. Albus was ingenious, something Tom had noted from the very start of their cohabitation.

"Guess." Voldemort said leaning back with an arrogant grace. If it wasn't for the malice gleaming from Voldemort's eyes Tom would have thought Voldemort was perfectly calm, amused at the question even, toying with Tom.

Tom bristled inwardly even though he knew Voldemort had done that on purpose just to get a rise from him. It worked but Tom fought to keep his expression the same. From Voldemort's slightly peeved expression it had worked to some extent.

"Is an explanation forthcoming?" Severus asked eyebrow raised.

"Ah, of course. I haven't been introduced. I am Voldemort, Severus, and occasionally I commandeer Harry's body for my own purpose." Voldemort said smoothly not bothering to hold out a hand to shake. Voldemort hadn't forgotten that Severus didn't know who he was or what was happening but he would only explain when asked; it gave him a little power in the conversation. Tom's eyes narrowed.

It seemed Harry and Voldemort, different as they were, shared some characteristics. Aversion to touch was one, curious. It was most likely learned behaviour as Harry would probably be quite tactile if left to his own devices, the way he treated his piano spoke volumes. Harry had caressed the wood, softly pressed the keys, he almost treated it like a beloved pet.

Severus looked from Tom to Voldemort black eyes gleaming curiously.

"And you take over when you want to?" Severus questioned tilting his head to one side.

"Essentially." Voldemort replied. Tom narrowed his eyes.

"No. If that was all there is to it you would appear much more frequently than about once every week. There's more to it." Tom stated surely. Voldemort's eyes blanked utterly free of emotion; a sure sign that he was irritated by Tom's deductions. Tom noted the minor clenching of Voldemort's fists with no little satisfaction.

Voldemort smiled, it wasn't a pleasant smile, not like Harry's warm sincere smiles that provoked an almost equal warmth in his chest, no, Voldemort's smile was all teeth, a shark like smile, the look completed by the dark predatory eyes.

"Enough about me. Why don't we talk about you? Maybe you could tell us about little Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop? And what about Myrtle?" Voldemort suggested with a sly smile and cold eyes directed at Tom. Tom scowled fists clenching.

How had Voldemort known about Amy Benson, Dennis Bishop and Myrtle? Tom was the only person (apart from the three themselves) who knew of his revenge. Even the staff at the orphanage and his school didn't know what he had done; they didn't even know he was linked to the incidents. Tom breathed in and out, controlled.

It was fine, Tom reassured himself. It didn't matter that Voldemort and consequently Harry knew, it wouldn't matter if everyone knew but Tom hated his past, he didn't want to be linked to it, didn't want to remember it. He had distanced himself from it years ago. Tom kept his eyes away from Voldemort's smug face.

At least Tom knew he had hit a nerve when he had spoken about Voldemort not being able to take over Harry's body whenever he felt like it. It was a paltry reassurance but a reassurance none the less.

Voldemort closed his eyes and Tom turned to face him just in time to see the face change slightly brow furrowing before smoothing out and Harry opened his eyes, bright green gaze back under his command. Harry stretched rolling his neck and blinking as though coming up from under water.

Tom leaned back in his seat unwavering gaze fixed on Harry as he lost himself in his thoughts.

* * *

xxx

"Why were we all brought here?" Harry asked Tom in the afternoon as they were sitting in companionable silence on a grassy knoll near to the entrance of Hogwarts but far enough away from it that they couldn't be seen.

Tom lowered his book slowly, musing over the seemingly random question.

"I assume you mean that the reasons we were given before coming here were false?" Tom stated one elegant eyebrow raised. Harry snorted not deigning to answer the semi rhetorical question, if Harry had seen that the reasons were false within seconds of them being given Tom surely had.

"They raised mental red flags." Harry said softly looking out at the forest.

"I don't know. I have a number of hypothesis but that doesn't any of them are true. I don't have enough data to work from." Tom stated hating to admit to someone else that he didn't know something. Harry hummed in agreement having come to the same conclusion. They could guess all they liked but without further information they had no clue as to why they had all been assembled in Hogwarts.

There were other slightly mental genius' out there, there were other people much more clever out in the world and yet they weren't in Hogwarts. So why had they been chosen? From the camera Harry would have said that they were being used as research or for a study and that still might be true but there was something else going on, something else entirely.

"Each of us is particularly adept at something or another, skills that are useful, but that doesn't explain why we were brought to Hogwarts." Tom stated eventually.

"Each of us has been classed as a danger to society but none of us are normal thugs taken off the streets...But, as you said, we won't know for sure until we get more data. So, are you up for some research?" Harry asked a bright grin on his face. Tom scanned his features taking in the determination and nodded. Neither Tom nor Harry were the type to sit and wait until they were informed about something, no they would go to the ends of the earth to find answers, a trait shared by nearly everyone in Hogwarts.

"We need to plan, we need to be discrete." Tom stated as they settled in their usual chairs in the corner of the lounge area, or the common room. Harry nodded in agreement.

"We also should tell some of the others, maybe get them to help. I'm sure Albus, Gellert, Hermione and Severus at the least would be necessary assets to finding the information." Harry suggested ignoring Tom's narrow eyed glare at the thought of getting others involved in such a delicate task. Reluctantly Tom agreed, each person in Hogwarts institution was formidable in their own right but working together...well, it could be magnificent or a total disaster, either way the results would be epic and very enteraining.

There were ten of them sharing quarters at Hogwarts: Tom Riddle, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasely, Severus Snape, Gellert Grindelwald, Albus Dumbledore, Neville Longbottom, Bellatrix Black and Luna Lovegood.

Most of them were pretty isolated and didn't mind being in their own company for days on end, they all had their different hobbies or research to get on with. The only time they ever gathered was usually if one of them bothered to cook or in the evening in the lounge room.

But it was odd that ten individuals had the run of such a large castle like Hogwarts and didn't have any other inmates, and the fact that they were free to wander anywhere in the castle even on the grounds (apart from the forbidden forest) was unusual. Harry was sure that normally in institutions they weren't given such luxurious quarters or allowed to do what they wanted; which meant they were here for a specific reason.

Hogwarts was located in a remote area in Scotland, far from civilisation and remote enough that there was no one who would notice anything odd going on.

Harry was sure that there was also something up with the forest. He didn't mention anything yet, encase it was just him being paranoid (it had happened before) but he stayed clear of it and eyed it suspiciously whenever he was near to it.

He wasn't the only one unnerved by the forest; it was as though it was watching them, a ridiculous notion to be sure but...

* * *

xxx

Harry managed to convince Tom to get everyone else in on their information gathering. Hermione was sceptical that there was an underhand plot going on but ready to help. Tom had raised his eyebrow at her naivety; the government was always up to something, especially the more secret or less known branches. Severus, Albus and Gellert had all been thinking along the same lines, they were also suspicious.

Neville, Ron, Luna and Bellatrix agreed that something could be going on and agreed to help with whatever they could.

Luna's knowing smile was a little eerie, Harry was sure she knew more than she was letting on and she was the only person not even a little unnerved by the forest, she visited it often to stare at the trees or bringing breadcrumbs to feed the birds and squirrels.

Even pooling together all their resources gave little result. They had ideas; hypothesis but there was just too many possibilities.

It wasn't until they were nearly ready to give up that they stumbled upon the answer by accident.

* * *

xxx

After weeks of no success Harry was debating with himself whether he should let Voldemort take a turn, see if he could find anything. As much as Harry might not like him he couldn't deny Voldemort was the most brilliant person he had ever met, able to cut through to the heart of the matter in seconds and extremely clever.

In the end, though, he wasn't needed.

Harry and Tom had been scanning through the lesser encrypted files they had managed to hack when they had come across a curious file. On the outside it was no more different than other documents labelling the new legalisations and laws that were scrapped before coming to the House of Lords; the inside however was far different.

It was almost maze like and had taken the combined efforts of Harry, Tom, Albus, Ron and Gellert to get to the important stuff, ie the stuff pertaining to them.

They came to two possible conclusions given the data they had. One, they were here to be tested on and their reactions observed (like with the hidden camera Harry had unearthed). Or Two, they were going to be used for something, maybe integrated with others to observe people's reactions to the different.

Which, rather depressingly, covered a wide variety of things; they had barely narrowed it down at all.

An absent quip from Neville sparked the idea and suddenly almost in tandem (which was odd and a little creepy) metaphorical light bulbs sparked alight in five brain simultaneously.

Was it actually possible that the unit that had sent them to Hogwarts (they weren't sure if it was a government group or one that worked outside the law) was intending to use them like a secret service branch?

It sounded fantastical and a little too well... but it fit.

Were they going to be given assignments to infiltrate various organisations? Or were they going to hack specialised main frames, divulge carefully hidden secrets?

It was utterly infuriating that the fact that they had come to an actual conclusion about the reason why they had been placed in Hogwarts raised more questions than it answered. It left most of them in a foul mood.

Bellatrix was avoided whenever possible as she could be especially psychotic, twisting word games around you to trap you as she, while your attention was diverted, drove a nail through your hand or broke your fingers (quite literally). Neville couldn't look her in the eye for days after she had broken two of his fingers and taunted him mercilessly until one of the others had come to his rescue.

Neville and Hermione sought out each other's company on occasion, they were the only two in the group whom Bellatrix had managed to sink her claws into for a while and they had the mental and physical scars to prove it.

Harry endeavoured to make sure no one was left alone when Bellatrix was on the prowl. In her files it stated that she had been a dominatrix, but as time went on her control slipped so her career failed. But when it had been a roaring success she had dealt with state secrets, supposedly secure information, there were rumours that she had once had blackmail on the royal family.

As a dominatrix she had to have absolute control of both herself and the person at her mercy, she had been brilliant at it for years, ever since she started actually, but she started slipping when she reached thirty, she enjoyed her clients pain a little too much and was a little too bloodthirsty, loosing herself to her insane gratification. She had killed one of her clients and so people avoided her from then on putting her out of business.

Now at thirty-three in Hogwarts she was starved for victims so occasionally tried to go for one of her inmates. Hence her managing to hurt Hermione and Neville. Only Tom, Voldemort and surprisingly Luna could put a stop to Bellatrix when she was in one of her 'moods'; Gellert could stop her on occasion but he rarely tried.

When she wasn't in one of her psychotic moods she was vivacious and fun, her sharp comments a little too venomous to be taken well but no one at Hogwarts institution was thin-skinned.

Harry liked her when she wasn't in one of her moods. He could hardly disdain her for her psychotic moods when his personality could, and did, do complete flips; Voldemort's hands were certainly not clean, they were dripping red. Some days Harry wasn't even sure his hands were free from blood.

A week passed from their initially conclusion reaching and none of their moods turned for the better. Nearly every single one of them avoided everyone.

Hermione and Ron weren't speaking after a particularly vicious row. Severus was surly and glared for any and all imagined infraction or slight. Albus and Gellert sequestered themselves in one of the small studies; they had particularly sharp comments for anyone who dared disrupt their domain. Luna was even dreamier than usual although when she spoke it was with uncharacteristic sharpness. Neville kept to himself throwing anxious glances to the direction that Bellatrix was in much to her evident delight and the others irritation.

Harry slunk into his piano room not deigning to talk to anyone; he hadn't spoken a word in days. And Tom irked by everyone had a constant scowl in place; he also hadn't spoken in days apart from to snap at Neville to 'stop being so nervy'.

So it was with relief that something happened after eight days solid of a dark atmosphere in Hogwarts that lightened the mood considerably.

They were given a letter, collectively.

Albus carefully pried open the envelope, unfolding the thick heavy yellow paper (it almost resembled parchment) slowly and delaying his reading aloud by scanning the paper first. Gellert cuffed his head neither gently nor overly harsh and glowered.

"Get reading, Albus, stop drawing out your silly dramatics." Gellert ordered in his gruff accented voice. Albus cleared his throat and shot a quelling look at Gellert before reading the green inked words in a voice audible to them all.

_"I do hope you have all worked out that you are here for a reason and I also hope you've come to the correct conclusion. I waited to send this letter until I was semi sure you had worked this out, my estimate may be wrong however, as you so kindly disposed of the camera far earlier than previously predicted._

_I will answer your, no doubt many, questions when I visit in three days time. Hope you are all well,_

_Chairman of the Order of the Phoenix."_ Albus placed the piece of paper on the table so if anyone wanted to verify the contents they could before he settled down in a chair and interlocked his fingers introspectively.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "That was worded a little pompously." He remarked dryly. Ron snorted, sharing a loaded glance with Hermione their previous spat completely forgotten about in light of the note.

"He or she sounds like they need something to loosen up, maybe a removal of the stick lodged in their arse or a little bit of blood and guts splattered in their office. I would be happy to help." Bellatrix breathed eyes shining with a feverish light. For the first time in days Neville didn't flinch even though he was within two metres distance of Bellatrix and had heard every word.

Their minds now focused on the upcoming meeting they forgot entirely about their foul moods and any fights. The sense of eager anticipation grew as the days passed drawing ever closer to the day where they would get their answers.

None of them were sedentary people by nature and so even in the extensive grounds of Hogwarts they felt cooped up with little to do. They had books, music, laptops etc but they needed a purpose to stay relatively stable.

To be perfectly honest it was mainly boredom that got them noticed for all the wrong reasons.

When Gellert was questioned by a psychologist about why he felt he had to commit some of his more memorably horrific deeds he had replied with a chillingly mild smile on his face that he was simply 'bored'. How terrifying.

Albus may have frowned on Gellert's immoral deeds but Albus's ledger wasn't pristine either so he could hardly throw stones in his glass house. They were in Hogwarts institution for a reason.

They were collectively more intellectual than moral, more inclined to pursue answers than to care for the many hands they were treading on.

So the excited anticipation that filled Hogwarts since the note was not altogether unexpected.

Harry re-read the letter carefully, particular words and phrases catching his eye. He and Tom discussed it quietly in their corner.

"This letter was sent more than a week after we worked out the reason we were brought here, the person wanted us to be thankful for the reprieve from boredom, wanted us to feel gratitude to the writer. It also begins slightly insultingly, saying they expected us to take longer than we did at working out why we are here. The way it is worded, mixed with the gratitude seems to be a ploy for us to prove that we can defy expectations, it appears to be trying to make us excel expectations, to do our best." Harry murmured thoughtfully.

Tom nodded pensively.

"And it gives us snippets, little tantalising hints. It names the department 'the order of the phoenix' for our perusal and leaves us hanging with no facts about such a department. It's supposed to invite our curiosity. I think that it is also trying to divert our attention from the fact that the very same department were the ones to send us here in the first place." Tom mentioned adding in his own two cents.

"They should have sent the letter and arrived later on that day rather than give us three days to analyse the letter. Our responses would have been more in line with their wishes then." Harry commented. Tom narrowed his eyes and looked round the room at the various people dotted about.

"Hmmm. No, I disagree. I think that for the majority of us here the three days just cements the initial feelings and thoughts. The majority of the people in Hogwarts are dreamers, Harry, idealists. You and me are realistic, Bellatrix doesn't care enough to analyse and Gellert is probably mulling over the same thoughts we are right now. But the rest, the rest are feeling the anticipation, are relishing the chance to get their questions answered and are going to feel thankful towards those who do answer the many questions. The others have no doubt fallen for the writers traps." Tom said quietly. Harry hummed scanning the various faces dotted about the room with a curious gaze.

"You're probably right; I do forget how...idealistic people can be." Harry said with a self deprecating smile.

"Well you're a cynic." Tom stated shrugging his shoulders dismissively.

"If I'm a cynic what are you? We're one and the same at times, Tom." Harry breathed. Tom turned sharp eyes to Harry's subdued face, eyes shrouded in shadow.

"I don't think cynicism is a bad thing, it's more realistic, but it can blind people. You are right however; I am also a cynic at heart." Tom mused more to himself than to Harry. Harry smiled without mirth.

"Sometimes I long to see the world in the same light others do and at others I despair for them." Harry said despondently.

"I think cynicism is far more advantageous than idealism. Anyway why pity the masses? Observe from them and don't commit the same mistakes."

* * *

xxx

If anyone has any questions about this chapter do ask, I am not quite sure it makes sense to anyone other than me and my mad mind...

(And I totally stole the dominatrix idea from BBC Sherlock's Irene Adler...)


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