Tom wasn't supposed to be afraid.

Not of Harry.

Tom's heart was pounding as oxygen flooded his head, making him only hyper aware of what was about to happen. He shut his eyes and placed one foot in front of the other as he walked towards where Harry's decayed body lay.

The hospital walls seemed to press in with every step and Tom knew nothing of the outside world.

The only thing that mattered was Harry. And nothing would change that now.

The Ministry would not have Harry, not in any form, which offered Tom no other option.

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

Tom's finger's traced down to rest on Harry's exposed bandaged neck. He had to be quick before the Ministry realised his intentions, before his own resolve would shatter. To save them both from a fate worse than death. And this way, they would always be together. Always.

"Harry-" Tom choked on his own words, his eyes swelling. "I-"

Tom's vision swarmed to black and his mind staggered. St Mungo's and Harry's decayed body disappearing as if he'd been wrenched abruptly from his nightmare.

"Tom-"

The Boggart had gone.

Harry stood before him, his half decayed face staring at Tom with such profound fear.

But it wasn't Harry. Not really. His Harry had been lost months ago, and only a shadow stood before him.

Tom tried to blink, to open his mouth and speak but the chill was encompassing.

Niamh was prowling around Lupin who stood slightly apart from them, but there was the distinct limp each time she placed her front left paw forwards.

"Leave," Tom said, his voice was barely audible. But Niamh heard it all the same as her ears twitched. It looked like Lupin wanted to argue but Harry turned, his whole chilling presence nearly plunging Tom back into his worst torment.

"Get out," Harry hissed. "You've done enough damage."

Niamh dug in her hind legs and snarled, her snout rippling backwards as she bared her teeth.

A look of pure regret and sadness, albeit brief crossed Lupin's face, before he merely nodded and threaded his hand into Niamh's mane. He lead her from the room without another word.

Harry didn't waste any time, as he turning his full terrifying attention to Tom.

A flash of true emotion crossed their bond as Tom and Harry stood apart. Tom needed Harry to understand. But how could he face Harry and tell him what he was capable of.

If Harry hadn't woken up and proven to Tom that there was still hope-

"Are you afraid of me?" Harry's asked again, his voice stiff.

Tom drew his own shaky breath, the air catching Harry who swayed despite himself.

"No," Tom whispered and for the first time he wiped his face on his sleeve, hating to see that it came back wet.

Harry didn't respond. He didn't even shake his head in disagreement, he merely stood there silently, as an ache like nothing Tom had ever known splintered between them. Why would Harry believe him, he had no reason too.

"Come on," Harry said quietly, and he threaded his cold decayed fingers into Tom's.

Tom flinched, despite every effort to act like nothing was wrong. In response, Harry only dug his nails in hard as he tugged Tom forwards.

Tom followed numbly, knowing that it wasn't his terror alone that saturated their bond.

Tom tossed to the side, his brow furrowed and his expression pained, but Harry did not wake him. Instead, Harry sat in the dark, as his icy chill encompassed their bedroom and his thoughts plunged into absolute despair.

The boggart, or rather the dementor had changed everything. And there was no possibility of Harry denying what he was capable of now.

Harry shivered, and pulled his own decayed arms around his knees. Harry was balanced so precariously, and it would only take one mistake, one nudge in the wrong direction for him to fall completely into the darkness. No wonder Tom was so afraid.

Harry shut his eyes, only to open them again as he flinched, unable to face what the dementor had tormented him with.

But the pure uncensored fear was impossible to shake. Harry shifted, one arm still around himself as he ran his other through his patchy hair. Tom had to face the same fear every time Harry lost any sort of control and Tom didn't deserve that, not when he had already done so much.

Harry took a deep unsettling breath as the room plunged a further few degrees. Tom moaned and rolled over, his cold sweat clinging to his skin.

Harry stared, as his good eye stung and the lump in his throat tightened. There was only one thing Harry could do. Occlumency had always been a chore, and Harry had only learnt because it was demanded of him. Now, the drive to alleviate some of Tom's pain and effort was more prominent than his guilt.

Harry turned his attention back to the one piece of hope that was clutched in his decayed hands.

Riddle's handwriting, which was the exact same, albeit neater than Tom's, was written in fresh ink on the diary piece and Harry stared at the thin writing as though it was the lifeline he craved.

I have something I need to return to you. Make sure you go to Hogsmeade today.

The burning sensation in Harry's throat was building. Riddle had taken so much from him, but there was only one thing that he could give back. And with it, Tom wouldn't have to do this alone any more.

The Great Hall was a buzz of activity the next morning. Hogsmeade and the yearly Hallowe'en feast tonight had every student and their dæmon on the edge of their seats. The sheer number of dæmons bounding up and down between the tables would normally have made Harry take notice, particularly when there was so much happiness to consume.

But for once, the draw of dæmons and the excitement from the rest of the of the hall was lost on both Harry and Tom.

Tom sat next to him at the Gryffindor table, pushing around his untouched breakfast. In contrast Harry actually had a half decent portion of eggs, bacon and toast on his plate and had actually managed to force himself to start eating it.

"Not getting enough souls?" Ron asked as Harry reached across the table to grab the brown sauce.

"We have our first match in a couple of weeks," Harry shrugged. "Wood says I don't eat enough as it is and he wants the whole team to be ready against Hufflepuff."

Harry tried not to glance at Tom who had looked up and distinctly frowned at this.

Although true that Wood complained often that Harry really needed to get some normal sustenance rather than just harass the teams dæmons in practice, Tom knew otherwise.

"You'll do fine," Ron said as he attempted to feed Scabbers some toast, which he had coated in a good helping of rat tonic. "It's not like you can do worse than Ravenclaw. Their match against Slytherin was just embarrassing."

"Well the Gryffindor's will have a distinct advantage over the Slytherins given that they're terrified of Harry." Hermione said stiffly as she peered up from her copy of the Daily Prophet which was headlined 'Ministry of Magic extends hand of friendship to the Giants'.

"Speaking of being terrified," Ron said, suddenly looking up from Scabbers and glaring at Hermione. "Your cat was in our dormitory last night. I thought you said you'd shut him up."

"I did," Hermione started. "Someone must have let him out-"

"And that's okay is it?" Ron demanded.

"Well no-" Hermione started, only to pause as Ron scooped up Scabbers and placed him alongside a stack of freshly buttered toast into his bag. "Are you taking Scabbers with you?"

"I'm not leaving him here alone," Ron snarled and beside him Sephronia growled. "Your cat would have him in an instant."

"Crookshanks wouldn't-" Hermione started and she placed her newspaper down on the table.

But Ron was having none of it.

"He only needs one chance, just one and then Scabbers would be gone!" Ron snapped. "Anyway, I want to see if they have some more tonic in Hogsmeade. Do you have a problem with that?"

Hermione shook her head hurriedly, as Ron turned and stabbed his own knife into his bacon, while simultaneously passing some to his dæmon.

Absently, Harry looked across to where Cyrilla was sniffing at Neville's roast potato's. One chance was all he'd need. Maybe if there were less teachers around in Hogsmeade and Tom wasn't paying attention.

"Harry-" Hermione said pulling Harry's attention back as Ramiron gave a sudden terrified squeak. "Are you going to Hogsmeade?"

Harry blinked and set down his fork as Hermione gave a pointed look at Tom.

"I don't know, I hadn't really thought about it," Harry lied. "We'd need to ask Dumbledore at any rate."

Hermione looked hugely disappointed at this, before she jerked her head away from Tom, Ron and Sephronia.

"Can I speak to you for a minute, in private?"

Frowning, Harry glanced at Tom, but Tom merely nodded once as he reached across to pick up Hermione's abandoned newspaper. Under the table, Harry saw Tom pull out his wand and rest it on his lap.

Harry stood and followed Hermione a short way down between the tables.

Ramiron looked distinctly miserable about it as he kept shooting nervous glances towards Tom who was slightly too far away to react if Harry suddenly decided that otter was on the menu.

Hermione turned to him and again shot another look over Harry's shoulder at Tom who wasn't looking in their direction.

"I think you should go," Hermione started at once. "It'll do the both of you some good to get out of the castle."

So that was it.

Harry crossed his arms and glared at her.

"Hermione, I don't need you telling me what to do-"

"I know," Hermione interrupted quickly. "It's just Tom- he's really not okay-and I just thought you need some quality time together, you know since the boggart."

"Tom's fine," Harry said icily. "The Boggart was days ago."

Now it was Hermione's turn to frown at him.

"Oh, Harry. I know without Lyra and being half demented and all doesn't help, but Tom needs you right now-"

"Do you think I don't know that?" Harry hissed suddenly starting forwards. "Do you think you know Tom better than me?"

Tom glanced up and despite being out of ear shot his wand was now held loosely between his fingers.

Hermione took a hesitant step back.

"No, Harry," Hermione started holding her hands up. "You know that's not true, it's just you're not very emotionally stable-"

The fear in Hermione's eyes, although not the same intensity of Tom's was the same. Her dæmon brushed against her leg as Ramiron let out a small cry.

"I-"

Harry held his breath, shutting his eyes briefly as his mind emptied. This is exactly what Tom had to deal with every time.

But Tom was already there, his hand tugging into his own.

"Harry-"

Tom's reassurance was enough to instantly calm him.

"I'm fine," Harry said as he bit his lip to prevent from breathing in. "Sorry, Hermione."

Hermione actually looked taken aback at this as Ramiron leapt onto the bench before starting to edge back down the table towards Ron and Sephronia. She followed, but not before jerking her head back at Tom.

"Hogmeade," she mouthed silently.

Tom who was still checking over Harry didn't notice.

But this was the perfect opportunity as any. Harry tightened his own hand in Tom's.

"I want to go to Hogsmeade," Harry said.

He had expected Tom to argue, to say that they should make the most of a near empty castle and the relative peace it would grant, but as it was Tom only shrugged.

"Okay, Dumbledore's probably in his office."

Trying not to look so surprised, Harry nodded as they made their way out of the Great Hall.

The castle was quiet as they made their way up to the moving staircases and the seventh floor. All students in third year and above where either already down at breakfast or making their way out of the castle and out onto the grounds.

"Fizzing Whizbee," Tom said as they reached their destination.

The gargoyle leapt up and jumped aside, revealing the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

"How do you know the password?" Harry asked.

Tom didn't answer as he took Harry's hand and pulled him onto the moving stone staircase.

Dumbledore's office was empty. They were alone apart from a few portraits that were sitting up and peering down at them with interest. Harry looked around, noticing that Fawkes golden perch was also vacant.

And, sitting on the shelf behind it, a shabby, tattered wizard's hat – the Sorting Hat.

Harry hesitated. He cast his good eye around the sleeping portraits on the wall before stepping

around the desk and reaching out his hands to grab it.

"What are you doing?" Tom asked.

"You never did believe me that I didn't make the hat put us in Gryffindor," Harry said.

"Well it doesn't matter now, Gryffindor is a perfectly suitable house."

Harry ignored him as he grabbed the hat and lowered in out his head. But instead of the small voice in his ear, there was only silence.

"Umm, hello?" Harry said feeling suddenly uneasy.

But the hat didn't respond.

"He's already sorted you once," Tom's voice came drifting into Harry's head, just like it had in first year. "It's not his job to do it twice."

Harry sighed, maybe the hat only woke up once a year. He reached up to grip the hat to pull it from the top of his head, but before he could do so, a third voice entered his head.

"Well Mr Potter, you've had two very eventful years," the hat said quietly.

Harry lowered his hands and didn't say anything.

"Usually, I thrive on seeing how students have progressed over the years," the hat said. "Particularly, when I can see that the house I sorted them into has aided them in their endeavors."

There was a short pause, where Harry still didn't say anything. Instead the hat sighed heavily and continued.

"However, I would have been happier, albeit curious, if you had never put me back on your head, Mr Potter," the hat said.

"You can sense Harry's desire for dæmons?" Tom said.

"As can you," the hat replied. "And you are right to be afraid, Mr Riddle. Your fear is what keeps you human. I also believe it is our own resolve is the only thing that protects the students in this castle. Despite what Mr Potter may think."

Harry curled his fists at this. But there was no response he could give that wouldn't be lying to himself.

"But I digress," the sorting hat said, suddenly sounding a lot more business like. "You had a question for me?"

Harry hesitated. The hat already knew his question.

"Why did you sort us into Gryffindor?" Harry asked.

"Mmm, you were indeed a tricky one, Mr Potter. Of course, I had sorted young Mr Riddle 50 years ago and he thrived in Slytherin. I was tempted to put him there again, but you Mr Potter, at the time, were a natural Gryffindor."

"What do you mean at the time?" Tom's own voice cut through the hat's own.

"Well circumstances have changed," the hat answered. "It's amazing what a few years can uncover, despite circumstances being forced upon you."

"You would sort us into a different house?" Harry frowned so the brim of the hat slipped further down his nose.

"Yes, and no," the hat said quite seriously. "You were both divided, and although students can often fit in well in another house than the one I sort them I did not believe this would be the case. So-" the hat said briskly and quite happily. "I would now place Mr Riddle in Gryffindor and you, Mr Potter in Slytherin. Gryffindor however, would still be my decision."

"You have both shown qualities of the other that I would never have predicted. Of course I take great care in deciding what house a student should go into, and I stick by my initial assessment at the time," the sorting hat said.

"So why is Gryffindor your decision?" Tom asked. "If we've swapped houses why doesn't it change anything?"

"The same reason as last time," the sorting hat explained. "I sort another opinion."

"Another opinion?" Tom asked.

"Well there are three of you," the hat said heavily. "And her opinion was just as valid as either of yours."

Harry took a single hollow breath.

"Lyra?" Harry whispered.

"Yes," the hat agreed. "Your dæmon was quite adamant that she didn't want to go into Slytherin. Although she isn't here right now I imagine that her decision would not have changed."

Harry pulled the hat off his head abruptly, not exactly sure how he felt about this news.

Lyra had been so significant, even when Harry hadn't known she existed.

Tom looked like he was about to say something when the office door opened. Dumbledore came in, looking mildly surprised to see them as he smiled. Fawkes who was perched on his shoulder stretched his wings and pushed himself into the air. He soared across to land on his perch, which was daringly close to where Harry stood.

"Harry, Tom, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Dumbledore said. Harry shuffled from behind the desk as the Headmaster moved across the room and sat himself beside it.

Harry didn't know if it helped not having a heart, despite feeling the darkness swirling in his chest. If Dumbledore said no-

"Can we go to Hogsmeade?" Harry asked.

Surprisingly, Dumbledore smiled.

"Under a few conditions, I think that would be acceptable."

Tom tilted his head as this, but didn't say anything.
"First of all I would like you to take your invisibility cloak, Harry. Of course, you don't have to wear it but if you would take it as a precaution. Secondly, I would like Professor Lupin to accompany you."

Tom as if expecting this answer, soured at this.

"Why? I'm more than capable of dealing with Harry."

"And I completely agree," Dumbledore said. "But there are others out there-"

"I can deal with Black too-" Tom interrupted.

"It was not Sirius Black I was referring," Dumbledore said. "I'm concerned that the villagers of Hogsmeade will be rather hostile towards Harry and a teachers presence would be practical given the circumstance."

"So?" Tom said as he crossed his arms and glared at Dumbledore. "Voldemort's returned, they are just as likely to be hostile to me."

Dumbledore crossed his fingers and placed them on his desk as he peered over his half-moon spectacles, but his focus wasn't on Tom.

"You have no reservations about going to Hogsmeade?" Dumbledore asked Harry.

At both Harry and Tom's blank looks, Dumbledore shook his head.

"I see, I must admit I was surprised that you had wanted to go to Hogsmeade at all, I now understand why. It will also mean that I must insist on a third condition," Dumbledore said. "Of course, I am very pleased with the progress you have made with Occlumency, however, I understand that you have both been reluctant to face a certain memory in the pensieve during your lessons with Professor Snape,"

Tom crossed his arms and glared at Dumbledore.

"What has that memory got to do with Hogsmeade?"

Dumbledore sighed and removed his spectacles, he placed them on the desk as Fawkes gave a shrill cry.

"Because that's where Riddle sent Harry after his transformation," Dumbledore said.

The chill that passed between them was uncensored as Harry took a rattling breath.

Tom stared at Harry.
"You never said."

"I didn't know," Harry said quietly. "I wasn't really taking in the scenery."

But the implication was clear enough.

"So we get to go to Hogsmeade if-" Tom paused. "If we watch Harry's memory of when he transformed? Aren't Occlumency and Professor's Lupin's lessons enough?"

"Harry has been through an unimaginable trauma," Dumbledore said calmly. "As his ah- acting dæmon, the fact that you have not experienced this with Harry and cannot alleviate this trauma only adds to the issue. Healers have done numerous studies on cases where the dæmon and human cannot relate, of course if you need some reference material-"

"I don't need to see it to understand it," Tom said coolly. "I feel it every day."

The sharp truth ricocheted between them but Dumbledore merely continued.

"Harry needs to further differentiate between his human and more monstrous side. He needs to remember what happened to him in order to realise that what he is feeling is wrong and he can control it."

Tom squeezed Harry's hand tightly.

But Harry already knew what Tom's answer would be.

"No," Tom said.

"I understand why you will be reluctant, but I also believe it would further advance Harry's control in Occlumency, and subsequently alleviate some of the onus on yourself."

A flood of fresh guilt consumed Harry. If this would remove some of the pressure off Tom, but this task was too much to ask.

It was like asking them to face the boggart again.

"I said no," Tom said sharply.

Dumledore raised his eyebrow slightly and looked to Harry, clearly waiting for confirmation that he agreed with Tom.

Instead, Harry took a deep breath, that drew slightly more than his surroundings. He didn't have to go to Hogsmeade. There was still another option. There was more than one way to get what Riddle had promised him.

"I have just one question, Professor," Harry said. "When can I get a wand again?"

The sad smile that cross Dumbledore's face, already told Harry his answer.

"I think for the moment it would be wise to wait until you are more proficient at Occlumeny," Dumbledore said. "I know you will be disappointed, but I believe this is the best course of action for now."

"Right," Harry said as he shoved his hands into his pockets, his hand clenching around the diary page. That settled it.

As soon as they were a couple of corridors away from Dumbledore's office, Harry broke pace and turned to Tom.

"We could always go through the passageway to the shrieking shack," Harry said.

Tom halted and fixed Harry with a very hard stare.

"Why do you want to go to Hogsmeade so badly?"

Harry paused. Convincing Tom would be impossible but a half truth would certainly help.

Harry took a deep breath, which was clearly the wrong this to do. The sudden terror which flooded Tom's expression was enough for Harry to slam his mouth shut again.

Instead, Harry dared to take a step closer as he tugged his hand through his patchy hair.

"I want to give you a reason not to be afraid of me, Tom," Harry said. "I know I've not exactly been easy to deal with recently, you know ever since-" Harry stopped abruptly. "What I'm trying to say is, I can still do all the stuff we used to do. You know before we got ourselves into this mess."

Tom's expression softened, despite his arms coming to cross front of himself.

"I'm not afraid of you, Harry."

Harry swallowed but he desperately tried to keep calm.

"Yes, you are. Your Boggart proved that."

"I'm not-" Tom started, but Harry wasn't having it.

"Fine, you're still afraid that I'll slip and the further I fall, the more demented I'll become until there's nothing left of me."

Tom seized up at this, his true horror now apparent to see. But Harry took another step closer and pulled Tom's hands in his own before Tom could step away.

"I'm still me, Tom," Harry said. "I've not given up yet. So I'm trying to give you a reason to keep going too."

But Tom still didn't speak. The look in his eyes was something Harry had never seen before. Tom opened his mouth only to shut it again. Harry waited, his fingers teasing over Tom's own.

Manipulating Tom felt odd, but Tom had on multiple occasions played with Harry's own emotions.

"Harry, you don't have to prove anything to me-"

Harry tugged his own hand away abruptly, and it was so painfully obvious when Tom shifted slightly, startled by the abrupt motion as he jerked his hand as if desperate to reach back out and never let go.

But Harry stepped away, not giving Tom the chance.

"You have given up on me," Harry said, his voice dropping deliberately to a whisper.

The effect was more than Harry anticipated.

The fear in Tom's eyes was absolute, as if the boggart was right before him. But it was the guilt Harry was unprepared for, and it gushed across their bond uncensored. Now it was Harry who staggered, the raw pain and overwhelming sense of loss distorting any feelings he had.

"Harry, I-" Tom started, only he stopped and immediately looked away, down the empty corridor with his eyes unfocused, but whatever he had about to say was lost to Harry.

"You're right, we should try to be more normal," Tom said quietly, although he still didn't meet Harry's gaze. "But Dumbledore knows about the passageway to the shrieking shack."

Harry stared, his good eye watching but with each second the emotion that had been pouring across their bond was dimming and Harry was left with only remnants of Tom's true feelings.

"Anyway," Tom continued, still ignoring Harry's statement. "I do think there's another way out of the castle, and I wanted to speak to Fred and George anyway."

Harry urged to push the issue, to seize Tom and not let him go until he'd told him anyway. But that would jeopardise any chance of getting Tom's agreement to leave the castle.

Harry followed Tom back down to the Entrance Hall where students were now spilling out excitedly from the Great Hall. It didn't take long to spot the huskies, as the two dogs were bounding around with an unnatural amount of energy. Fred and George were just ahead exiting through the large front doors.

Harry followed Tom, as the throng of students and dæmons rushed to get out of their way. It took no effort at all to catch up with Fred and George who were now half way across the courtyard.

Celendia and Demetria growled and shifted to Fred and George's left side as Harry and Tom fell into step beside them.

Fred's response was a lot less hostile, as he nudged George as smiled at them.

"Let me guess, you want a way to get to Hogsmeade without going past the dementors?"

"So you'll let us borrow your map then?" Tom asked with a matching grin.

Fred and George broke pace and looked visibly stunned at this. Their dæmons muttered something between themselves but Harry didn't quite catch it.

"How do you know about-" George started.

But Tom was already gesturing them into one of the empty alcoves.

"You mentioned it when you came up to mine and Harry's tower, and George had it in his hand," Tom said.

Looking relieved the twins nodded to each other, ignoring their dæmons who had retreated behind them so that they were just in a position to escape out of the courtyard if necessary.

George pulled out of his pocket a clearly blank, yellowing piece of parchment. He took out his wand and touched it to the parchment.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

And at once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point his wand had touched and with it bright green curly words blossomed across the top that proclaimed:

Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present

THE MARAUDER'S MAP

Beneath each name was a drawing of what must have been their dæmons; a wolf, a rat, a dog and a doe.

The rest of the parchment however was far more interesting. The map showed every detail of the Hogwarts castle and grounds. But that wasn't the only remarkable thing. Hundreds of tiny ink dots showing all sorts of animal tracks littered the castle, each labelled with a name above it. A steady stream of tracks led straight from the Great Hall, out of the castle and down into the grounds to where people were departing to Hogsmeade.

"Is this a map of dæmons?" Harry asked.

It was very noticeable that Fred jerked the parchment back slightly at this, suddenly looking unnerved.

"It's fine," Tom said offhandedly, pulling the map out of Fred's hands. "Harry doesn't need the map to see where dæmon's are."

"Oh, totally fine," George muttered, but Harry and Tom were already pouring over the map.

A dot labelled Fawkes with a small set of bird prints showed that Dumbledore was still in his office, while small cat prints labelled Einaris prowled the edge of the gates that lead off the grounds. The map also showed a set of passages neither of them had entered. Any many of them seemed to lead right into Hogsmeade.

"Why is the doe named Prongs?" Tom asked absently as he traced his fingers over the extravagant title. "It's a stag that has the antlers."

"We didn't think it made much sense either," Fred agreed with a shrug. "But if they're a group of mischief-makers we assumed it was just an in-joke or something."

"Mmm, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prancer doesn't really roll of the tongue so well," George said.

"You need to be careful though, the map really does only show dæmons," Fred said. "Which isn't the same as showing where everyone is. Filch is a nightmare because he doesn't have one, he's caught us out a few times. Dumbledore and Snape too, they can both separate themselves from their dæmons so that's been tricky too. And McGonagall when she's transformed into Einaris won't show up."

"We're here," George said pointing to one small dot that wasn't labelled.

"But that doesn't make sense?" Harry frowned. "Celendia and Demetria are both here and Tom-"

"Tom has never shown up on the map," George shrugged. "And our souls are identical, the map doesn't know how to interpret Celedina and Demetria when they're together. They show up properly when they are apart though."

Whatever Harry expected it wasn't this, but it was certainly consistent with how he perceived dæmons.

"That's why you said that Harry wouldn't be able to take my soul," Tom said quietly.

Harry remembered this too, back in the Quidditch changing rooms. The twins knew that Tom was something different.

Harry glanced at Tom, but Tom was still pouring over the map eagerly. Harry and Tom still hadn't discussed what Tom really was.

"Your dæmon used to be there, Harry," George said. "In your first year before she left."
"Lyra was here?" Harry drew a rattling breath, suddenly aching to see his golden link that spilled from his chest.

"Lyra- Well she didn't have a name then, it was just some small illegible animal prints, but it was definitely her following you around everywhere. Made spotting you on the map impossible too when she left."

"What about Cryilla?" Harry asked. "What does Neville's dæmon look like?"

Again Celendia and Demetria shared concerned glances as Fred pointed her out on the map. Neville was already at the far edge of the castle grounds about to get into the carriages.

"Her footprint takes the form of whatever animal she currently is," George said. "Which is interesting in itself, because the map never lies, take Hagrid for example, his dæmon certainly isn't a hound."

"What?" Harry asked, spinning his dead eye, despite unable to currently see dæmons in the direction of Hagrid's hut. How had he not noticed that, Hagrid was grounds keeper and Ilaria should have been easy enough to spot from up in their tower.

"Really?" Tom said. "What animal does she show up as?"

"Well that's the thing," Fred said. "They're huge footprints mind, yet she doesn't match anything we've researched."

Harry was still looking in the direction of the grounds when Tom gave him a hard nudge with his elbow.

"We can borrow this then?"

Fred and George both shrugged, but it was Celendia and Demetria who shared an uneasy glance with each other.

"Your best bet is to take this route," George said as he traced his finger along a passageway. We're pretty sure we're the only ones who know of it and it leads straight into the cellar of Honeydukes."

"Just don't forget to wipe the map when you're done," Fred said and he pointed his own wand at the map. "You just say Mischief Managed and keep an eyeball out for Filch."

At once, the map's inked lines started to fade, leaving only what looked like a tattered piece of parchment.

"Thanks," Tom said as he folded the map and tucked it into his pocket. "We'll get it back to you tonight."

Harry and Tom made their way back up to the moving staircases and up onto the third floor corridor. It was empty.

Pulling out the map, Tom tapped it once and muttered.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Just like before, lines skirted across the parchment revealing to them that the nearest dæmon was several classrooms away.

Harry scanned the map as he and Tom walked up to the the only noticeable feature in the corridor. A one-eyed witch statue just next to a classroom door.

A small speech bubble appeared on the map, in the exact spot where Harry and Tom stood despite having no indication that they were there.

"Dissendium," Tom read, tapping his wand on the statue.

The statue's hump opened wide, revealing a small hole that looked just big enough for a small person to squeeze through.

Tom helped Harry clamber up into it before heaving himself up. They both slid down a stone slide and landed in the pitch black. Up above them, they could hear the stone of the humped witch moving back into place.

"Lumos," Tom said, the wand light at once revealing a long earthy passageway, before directing his wand back towards the map.

"Mischief managed."

They set off down the passageway at a brisk page.

"I haven't seen Hagrid at all," Harry said as they walked. "He was around the grounds all the time before last years term started, so why not this time."

"He's off conversing with the giants," Tom said. "It said so in the Daily Prophet. Kingsley Shacklebolt, you know, the auror with the Lynx, apparently he asked for Hagrid personally. I think Hagrid must have giant ancestry, that would explain a lot too."

"Why's the Ministry doing that anyway?" Harry asked. "Speaking to giants isn't normal?"

Tom looked like he was resisting giving Harry one of his looks.

"Voldemort will be doing exactly the same thing. Giants caused a lot of trouble back before his downfall, the Ministry will be eager to avoid the same blood bath again."

"Oh, right," Harry said before asking the question he really wanted to know the answer too. "So what do you think Hagrid's dæmon really is?"

"I don't know," Tom muttered. "But it really does make a lot of sense. For someone as imposing as Hagrid, I always thought a hound was too tame for him. Plus Ilaria sometimes used to act funny towards Hagrid, remember?"

Harry did remember, because it was the one of few times that he'd seen a dæmon disagree with their human. It had been right after they'd gone back into the forest in first year to find the dead unicorn Quirrell had killed.

"So the map aligns with everything you know about dæmons?" Tom asked.

Harry nodded as he quickened his pace, he hoped they'd been there soon but this passageway gave no indication of ending anytime soon.

"I can't see Einaris when Professor McGonagall is in her animagis form," Harry said. "So it makes sense if the map can't either."

"And you can't see me," Tom said.
Harry only nodded, knowing that this had been Tom's point from the start.

"The map doesn't show people's links to their dæmons though," Harry said, thinking of his broken link that spilled from his chest to Lyra.

Tom nodded, the light from his wand bobbing as he did so, casting long shadows down the passage.

"I imagine the map isn't as strong as your affinity to dæmons. It doesn't really need to be, if all it does it want to locate where dæmons are. It's a pretty advance piece of magic at any rate."

"Dark magic?" Harry asked.

Tom shook his head.
"Daemon's themselves aren't dark, so the ability to locate them shouldn't rest purely with dementors. It's just you and the map are both seeing a different plane of existence that shows dæmons true forms."

They walked the rest of the way in relative ease, discussion on the map keeping them distracted as the passageway got colder and seemed to span on for miles. It must have been about an hour before they came to the foot of some warn, stone steps which rose up and out of sight.

They began to climb, the steps seemingly getting steeper as they rose sharply. Hundreds of steps passed under their feet before they came to a small trap door.

"Get your cloak on now," Tom instructed.

Harry pulled it from his bag and they both slipped under it as Tom pushed the trapdoor open with his wand and they climbed out.

They were standing in a cellar, filled to the brim of crates and boxes. A wooden staircase lead up from the corner of the room. Tom waved his wand, positioning the hidden trapdoor so that it seamlessly blended back in with the floor.

"Come on," Tom said as he nodded towards the wooden stairs.

They emerged behind the counter only to find Honeydukes so packed with students that their dæmons had to skirt around their human's feet, clinging so close to either avoid being accidentality touched or trampled on.

Tom took no time in grasping Harry's hand and pulling him, none to gently through the crowd and out of the shop into the mild autumn morning.

Hogsmeade looked very different from when Harry and Tom had last been in the town. The quiet streets, just like Honeydukes were heaving with students and dæmons, all hurrying from one shop to the other eager to spend their knuts, sickles and galleons.

As they walked closer to where the Tree Broomstick's was, a noticeable crowd had congregated around something. Other students and their dæmons however, hurried past without a single look towards the group of people.

A gap was left so that Harry and Tom could see what all the fuss was about. Harry felt his insides twist as he bit his mouth to resist drawing more breath than he need.

The ground was dead. The cobblestones were blackened and oozing in a substance that Harry recognised a little too well. He pressed his hand to the gapping hole in his chest and shuddered. The black and decayed patches of what would have once been grass poked through the stone, and the whole place rippled with a deep feeling of evil.

Tom seized Harry's arm and pulled him quickly past so that they were further towards the edge of the village and away from any possible gaping eyes.

Harry pulled off the cloak from over them and stuffed it into his bag.

"Did you really not know it was Hogsmeade?" Tom said, breaking the long silence.

"No," Harry said flatly. "Why have they just left it like that anyway?"

Tom looked like he wasn't going to answer as he shook his head.

"Your transformation was the darkest of magic, Harry. And dark magic tends to leave an immoveable trace," Tom nodded towards Harry's scar.

"Oh, right," Harry said as he pressed his fingers against his scabbed forehead. But something else was bothering him. The fact that even Tom would consider that Harry was coherent enough to take in that level of detail, to know where he had been, during his transformation was unnerving. Perhaps Dumbledore was right about the pensieve and confronting Harry's memories.

They walked in silence for awhile, and Harry remembered he was meant to be focusing on Tom, or at least trying to prove to him that dæmons weren't the only thing on his mind.

But it was just too difficult when Riddle and his message were lingering in his head. Instead, Harry settled for a compromise.

"It'll be two years tomorrow since Lyra left," Harry said quietly. The lack of surprise, or flutter across their bond told Harry that Tom had been thinking the same thing.

"Do you think she knows what happened to me?" Harry asked.

Tom tilted his head back, surveying their surroundings as an excuse to not reply straight away.

"I knew what had happened before I saw you," Tom answered. "I could feel your desire for dæmons so clearly as if it was my own temptations."

"But Lyra isn't close to me-"

"She'll know, Harry," Tom said firmly. "And if she has any sense, she'll stay away from you."

But Harry didn't respond. If Lyra really was avoiding him would he ever see his dæmon again.

They had reached the outskirts of the village now, where the houses were further apart. A winding lane lead out into the countryside under the foot of the mountain where Hogsmeade lay.

"We shouldn't go any further," Tom said. "Voldemort will have Death Eaters nearby, just encase an opportunity presents itself."

Harry paused, his feet twisting in the dirt path as he gazed out into the open valley. He tried to stay calm as his fingers clenched around the parchment in his pocket.

Would Riddle be here himself, or would he send someone else. Harry hadn't really thought about it, he'd been too focused on the outcome.

Suddenly he felt very foolish to be out here, alone with only Tom.

But he need not have worried.

A soft hooting broke the silence. An owl was sitting up on a tree branch just off the edge of the path. It hooted once more before it spread its wings and soared towards them and dropped a thin package right at Harry's feet.

If Harry had a heart, he was sure it would have twisted.

"Don't touch-" Tom started his wand raised, but Harry had already knelt down to retrieve the package. He ripped off the brown paper eagerly.

Sure enough, his holly and phoenix feather wand rolled into his open palm. He gripped it tightly and at once his arm tingled, as a rush of warm shot up to his elbow. Harry took no hesitation as he swung the wand downwards, and black swirls of smoke flew out the end of it.

Raising his wand again, Harry turned to Tom, a broad grin on his decayed face, only to find himself face to face with Tom and his open expectant hand.

"Give me your wand, Harry," Tom said his voice horribly soft.

"It's mine," Harry said as his fingers tightened around the thin piece of wood.

Tom tilted his head, but his hand remained held out in front of him.

"I know, but the Ministry have the right to arrest you if they find it on you."

Harry frowned, no one had mentioned this.

"What are you talking about?"

Tom took a breath, almost biting his lip as if to delay the inevitable.

"Clause 3 of the Code of Wand Use states that no non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand."

A hot flash of anger seared through Harry so much so that his wand shot black sparks from its tip.

"You knew," Harry said furiously. "You knew they were never going to let me practice magic again."

"No, I didn't," Tom said, but he made no effort to pocket his own wand. "There's a distinction between non-human magical beings and part-human magical beings when permitting who can carry a wand. Professor Lupin is a werewolf, yet he is able. But there has never been a part-human dementor, Harry. And until Dumbledore can clarify that you fall into the same category he doesn't want to take the risk of the Ministry getting hold of you through some stupid technicality."

"So what determines if I'm human enough?" Harry snapped, half knowing the answer.

Tom sighed and took a step towards him. Harry took a deliberate step back to match.

"Vampire, hags and goblins have their own magic which is different from a witch or wizards," Tom said. "So because you have a different source of magic and you're considered dangerous, the Ministry would determine that a wand would only enable you further."

"So I'm a threat to wizards?"

"Harry," Tom stressed. "Everything depends on you. Fudge is already looking for any excuse to remove you from Hogwarts and one wrong move-"

"Great," Harry snapped and he waved his arms so that even more black sparks shot from his wand. "What's the point in me even attending school if I'm never going to do magic again? Go on Tom, tell me why are we even here?"

"Hogwarts is the safest place from Voldemort," Tom said stiffly. "And it's not like we have a choice. It's Hogwarts or St Mungo's."

"So you admit I'm never going to do magic again?" Harry demanded.

"No," Tom said sharply. "Dumbledore doesn't want the Ministry to have any reason to arrest you. That's why he's not given you a wand. But I think that once everything has stabilised then Fudge won't be able to deny that you're in control."

Harry shot Tom a sharp look at this.

"Do you think I should have my wand?" Harry asked. "And I don't want to hear about what the Ministry or Dumbledore think. I want to know what you think, Tom."

Tom hesitated and it was all that Harry needed.

"Right, I get it."

"You're not ready, Harry," Tom said. "You're barely in control day to day, and you know it only takes one incident where I or a Professor slip up-"

"Riddle thinks I'm ready," Harry muttered stiffly.

The look Tom gave him, instantly made Harry regret saying anything.

"And what does Riddle know?" Tom said quietly, before his expression shifted into something else entirely, a sneer on his lips that was very reminiscent of his older self. "Oh, that's right. You won't tell me."

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but Tom wasn't finished.

"I don't want to hear it, Harry. I've given you plenty of opportunity to talk to me, but you just don't want to. You just don't care."
"At least Riddle treats me like a human-" Harry said as he clutched his wand tighter.

"Riddle only treats you as a means to an end," Tom hissed. But Harry already knew that, Riddle had been clear from the start. Tom however had fallen silent, an odd expression suddenly crossing his face.

"Harry-" Tom said, a hard edge to his voice. "Is this why you were so insistent on going to Hogsmeade. Did you know Riddle would give you your wand back?"

There was no point denying it. Tom would know the truth regardless, even so Harry found himself shaking his head.

"I didn't-" Harry started, his mouth falling open.

"Don't lie to me, Harry."

Harry flinched from the coldness in Tom's voice.

"Riddle gave you your wand back for a reason," Tom said. "What did you promise him?"

"You don't understand," Harry started suddenly. "I thought you did at first, you said you craved dæmons, but you won't give into temptation even a little, not even to see what I have to deal with-"

"Don't change the subject," Tom snapped and he took a single step so that they were so close that one breath from Harry would be deadly. "Riddle acts only for himself. You're deluded if you think he has any ounce of love for you. Or have you forgotten he did this to you."

"Of course not-"

But Riddle and Harry shared one thing that Tom could never understand. The lengths that had to be taken, just to take back a dæmon and Riddle had in one twisted way or another gifted Harry the only means to achieve this.

Instinctively, Harry's hand itched against his right pocket. It was such a subtle movement, that normally Tom wouldn't have cared or spotted it, but he shifted forwards and seized Harry's wrist, jerking his arm around non too gently.

Tom plunged his other hand into Harry's pocket and drew out a single piece of parchment with a torn edge. Harry reached desperately for it, but Tom stepped away, pushing Harry away hard so that he staggered to regain his footing.

"Tom, I-"

But how could Harry explain. Tom had asked time and time again about Riddle, and Harry had refused him all because he'd already decided Tom wouldn't understand. But Harry had never given Tom a chance, not really.

Tom was standing barely an arms reach away, but Harry didn't dare move his own hand to try and snatch the parchment back. Instead he could only watch and feel the torment that was shooting between them.

Tom's hands were visibly shaking as he smoothed out the creases on the now blank parchment.

And in that instant, something between them shattered. It wasn't the same as the Basilisk, but still something fundamental. Harry flinched, the blank piece of parchment clearly not lost on Tom as his gaze pierced straight into Harry's distorted soul.

Tom shoved the parchment hard against Harry's chest. Harry instinctively grabbed it, his fingers curling into the creases despite everything screaming at him that he should just rip it apart and throw it away.

"I hope Riddle was worth it."

Tom's voice was so quiet, that Harry flinched. It would have been better if Tom had shouted. Instead, Harry was left with only Tom's thick hot anger coursing across their bond

Tom turned, and without a single word, stepped away.

But there was something else. Something so soul shatteringly wrong.

"Tom-"

Harry staggered, his head swimming as his legs buckled. His knees slammed hard into the dirt before Tom could even turn around.

It happened without warning, before Harry could grasp what he was doing. All light vanished.

The sky was suddenly pitch black and lightless, even the dim lights of Hogsmeade couldn't be seen. The distant shouts and calls from students walking on the edge of the town fell into nothingness. The mild afternoon was suddenly piercingly, bitterly cold. They were surrounded by total, impenetrable, silent darkness.

For a moment, Harry didn't dare breath again. Instead he stayed kneeling on the ground, arms clutched around himself as even the darkness swayed.

Tom's terrified voice broke in Harry's ear.

"Harry, what have you done-"

Tom's voice was panicked as Harry heard him scrambling.

But Harry couldn't speak, he grasped desperately towards Tom, his good eye wide with the most intense fear.

It was as if his soul had been ripped from him and left exposed.

"Lumos."

A dim light, barely penetrating the darkness flicked into view as Tom's footsteps rushed forwards.

Tom fell beside Harry, his hands rushing to connect as he pulled Harry as close as possible. But it was too late.

The damage had already been done.

It was as if time had frozen, where only Harry and Tom were still moving as Tom's fury turned to pure cold understanding.

"Riddle has Lyra."