Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the Harry Potter series by J. K. Rowling. No undue claim nor material profit is expected or intended.

Unexpected Contact
Chapter 5/5
Time's Riddle AU series
by Alan Sauer and Persephone

*****

As of dinner that Friday, Ginny was not quite as relaxed about her parents' visit as she had perhaps seemed when she was trying to reassure Tom. The more she thought about it -- and the more she heard from Ron -- the less confident she felt.

She was sure -- pretty sure -- that they would like him once they gave him a chance. Once she'd got over being afraid of him, this one hadn't had nearly the same effect on her as (she shivered a little despite eating a very hot potato) last year. He was nice. Despite the tendency to go off on tangents, studying with him was probably improving her grades. He certainly wasn't encouraging her to be shy. The only friendships he'd really caused any trouble with involved her roommates' objections to his being a Slytherin, and she rather thought they might waver if they knew what he was going to look like at sixteen. Still... she had the feeling this was going to start out very uncomfortably.

Tom agreed heartily about the uncomfortable start, but wasn't feeling very optimistic about the prospects for improvement. He spent most of dinner nibbling on bread, shredding small helpings of anything more substantial and feeling guilty for the waste, and doing his best to look as if he were behaving normally.

Apparently he managed to look forbidding instead. Peony asked him to pass the butter, and that was about the extent of any attempts to engage him in conversation.

He wished he had managed to get a slightly more exact idea of the evening plans. There were no more Weasleys in evidence than there normally were, and as students began wandering away from dinner, he finally scribbled a quick question to Ginny on a napkin via the distance-writing charm.

She scribbled back.

Oh. Well, of course they were supposed to meet in the Gryffindor common room. She didn't know exactly where they'd go to talk properly, most likely Dumbledore's office; someone would come and get him, so he'd better wait someplace they could get to.

Tom imagined it was highly unlikely they'd forget to come fetch him, but he wished he hadn't thought of it.

*****

Dumbledore must have given the Weasleys the password, or else the Fat Lady just liked them, because they arrived in the common room suddenly enough that Mr. Weasley's greeting came as something of a shock. He seemed to be in very high spirits, even before he was swarmed by his children.

As the hellos died down, Mrs. Weasley quickly and quietly suggested, "Perhaps we'd all better go on to Professor Dumbledore's office. We can talk there."

"Is this family-only," Harry asked, "or... well, I feel a little responsible for Tom, you see."

Mrs. Weasley paused and gave him an appraising look. "You are family, dear, even if you will be staying with Sirius. Of course you may come."

Harry's mouth dropped open for a second before he grinned, feeling warm straight down to his toes.

"Though of course we'll be glad to have you both visit," Arthur Weasley added as he held the portrait open for his wife. "Shall we go, then?"

Harry gave him a strange look as they set off down the corridor. Mr. Weasley... seemed to be... humming.

"You're awfully cheery, Dad," Fred said. "Did you get a new gadget for the car?"

Mr. Weasley chuckled. "Not quite, not quite --"

Harry looked around as they started to pass the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office. "Do you want me to go get Tom now, or will I miss the story?"

Mr. Weasley smiled broadly and waved a hand. "It'll keep for a few minutes if you like."

Mrs. Weasley sighed.

Harry hesitated, then darted off with protests from the twins receding behind him.

*****

Tom was sitting in the library, staring at a book without reading it. Hermione was being much more productive a few tables over, and further down Peony was stealing the kind of occasional look at her that Tom sometimes caught Colin giving Harry.

And as if the thought had summoned him, Harry popped up out of nowhere next to Tom's chair.
"Psst. Tom. They're here," he whispered.

Tom managed not to drop his book, although it was a close call. "Oh. Um. Already?"

"Yes. Mr. Weasley is in a very good mood, too. He promised to wait to explain why until I got back."

Good moods could mean all sorts of things, Tom thought irritably. "Well, um, that's good, I guess. I'll just follow you, then?"

Harry nodded and glanced at the glowering librarian. They hurried out. "See, that article can't have been taken too seriously -- it certainly doesn't look like it soured his day at work or anything."

"Maybe he's just looking forward to what they're going to do to me," Tom said glumly.

"They're nice, Tom," Harry said with a trace of exasperation. "I suppose they're a little suspicious -- last year was very weird -- but they're not sadistic or something."

"Sorry, force of habit. I've had this same conversation with Ginny about five times this week."

"And she hasn't thrown anything at you yet?"

"Actually she has. Marine sponge in study group when you weren't looking."

"At least it was soft." Harry led the way rapidly through twisting corridors along what Tom recognized, with a flip of the stomach, as the way to the headmaster's office. They stopped at the gargoyle, where Harry mentioned some sweet that Tom almost instantly forgot when they moved on; the moving spiral staircase that had fascinated him when he first encountered it did absolutely nothing for either his nerves or the overwhelming feeling that things were completely beyond his control.

The office door swung open abruptly as they approached it; the twins practically snatched them inside as Dumbledore, with a pleasant nod and a cheerful smile, moved past them and vacated his own office "to let them speak privately."

Fred and George took one new arrival each and propelled them into two of the squashy chairs that crowded the circular room in a most unlikely way for normal use; Tom wondered how Dumbledore had managed to get to the door. "Come on! He hasn't told us anything yet!"

He tried to remain unobtrusive next to Harry, but had to admit to a bit of curiosity himself -- the twins were being even more enthusiastic than usual, if that was possible.

"Ah, yes. Well. I'm certain you all recall that article by Rita Skeeter," Mr. Weasley began.

"That horrible woman," Ginny said, wrinkling her nose. "I wish I knew how she found out about it; there wasn't anybody else around."

Mr. Weasley looked gleeful. "However it may have been -- today Lucius Malfoy -- of all people, can you believe it, what nerve -- brought forward an accusation that I was a Death-Eater."

He paused dramatically while everyone blinked at him.

"That's insane," Fred said.

George added, "Unless you want to show us your black cloak and hood, Dad."

"That," Mr. Weasley said with great satisfaction, "was the general opinion of the Ministry." He slapped his knee in delight. "Malfoy was practically laughed out of the room! I've never seen him look so appalled."

Well, Tom thought, that explains why Draco was so quiet at dinner. I'll have to remember to tell Peony it's open season.

Ginny chose this point to move to his chair, lean over him, and whisper solemnly, "Yes. Fred and George really are always like that."

Tom stifled a snicker. "I don't know how you manage to live with them."

"I'm that good. Think you can manage it for a few months?" she asked mischievously.

"Only if I can blame you for inviting me. Assuming your parents don't Apparate me to Siberia."

"Stop that. I don't have another sponge with me."

"Why do you think I said it now?"

"What's that about a sponge, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked in bewilderment, having caught only the last and admittedly strange portion of the conversation.

"I threw a sponge at him for being pessimistic," Ginny explained, as if this were a standard remedy.

"Dried," Tom added before realizing who he was speaking to. "I've still got crumbs in my collar, I think."

"Why'd you throw a sponge, Ginny?" Fred asked severely. "You should have picked something squelchy."

"I make sure the slug-slime's well out of her reach in Potions, thank you. I do learn occasionally."

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat and spoke somewhat more seriously. "I suppose we should get down to business."

Tom closed his mouth with a snap and watched Mr. Weasley nervously.

"He's not the same one, Mr. Weasley," Harry said almost at once. "He decided not to be Voldemort, that's why he's here. Alive, I mean. And himself."

Tom shuffled his feet. The memories of those first few chaotic moments had largely faded -- the first clear memory he had was of Dumbledore wondering what to do with him -- but yes, "Not Voldemort" did seem to be the main thing to get across. He did his best to look non-Voldemorty.

Mr. Weasley opened his mouth, hesitated, then sighed and responded, "Yes, we understand that, Harry... but I'm sure you can understand why we'd be concerned, as well. It's a bit worrisome that Ginny's attached herself to someone similar to her... false friend from last year, even if there are important distinctions." He tried a wry smile and added, "Such as a fairly clear location for his brain."

"He's not really the same at all, Dad," Ginny pointed out. "The... other one...." She swallowed. "He always said things that sounded nice but made me feel useless, or not want to talk to anybody else. Tom doesn't. And the diary one... was very -- I don't know, formidable. Wasn't ever afraid, never gave the impression that he needed help. And Tom is," she shot an apologetic smile his way, "well, for one thing, he's petrified of you two."

Tom sat and tried not to look mortified. He suspected that he wasn't succeeding very well, and hoped that he was having better luck at not looking too much as if he might be plotting what to do to Ginny for that comment. After all, if it helped, he couldn't complain. Much.

"Gracious," Mrs. Weasley said, peering at Tom in some surprise. "We're wary, dear, not plotting to torture you."

"Well, not unless you actually turned out to be evil," George said brightly.

His mother shot him a reproving look, but Tom noticed that she didn't exactly contradict the statement.

"Um. Ginny's been telling me the same thing all week, ma'am," Tom said softly. "I'm afraid I'm not really... used to this sort of thing, and I suppose imagining other things is one way to get used to the idea of you saying no."

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged a glance. "Well," Mrs. Weasley began, "I'm not certain quite how much you know about last year." That was promising. Sort of. At least they didn't assume he knew ALL about it firsthand. "We probably should have realized -- Ginny has been much more her usual self this year, although the first several weeks were rather worrying."

Ginny shook her head. "Honestly, Mum, I explained about all that when I wrote home. Snape kept putting us together for Potions and it bothered me a bit before we started actually talking. It's not the same at all."

"It seemed to be significantly more than a bit, dear."

"Well... maybe it was. But I'm fine now, and it wasn't Tom's fault to begin with."

"Not this Tom," Harry clarified. "I've been paying attention, Mrs. Weasley. Tom's no more a Dark Wizard than I am. And he did more to get rid of Voldemort for good."

Tom made a faint and incoherent noise.

"Harry, that seems a little..." Mr. Weasley began

"True. I mostly talked him into it."

Mr. Weasley raised an eyebrow at Tom as if waiting for his reaction.

Tom shuffled his feet. "I don't really... remember much of that part of it. Only that I had a choice between being... him... and being me, and I didn't want to be him." He shuddered. "And I don't."

"This one's not too bad, really," Fred remarked.

"He doused Snape in Laughter Potion," George added.

"George!" Ginny said, too late. Tom somehow didn't think this had been something she'd been planning to bring up in his defense.

Mrs. Weasley's eyebrows shot up. "That seems rather odd treatment for your own head of house."

"Well, I'd spilled enough on Tom, and Snape could've given us different partners, so he had it coming," Ginny said stoutly. "He's been abominable almost all year. Snape, I mean. I'm sure he thought it was funny when I'd get nervous and mess up."

"You must respect your professors, Ginny. What, exactly, did you spill on Tom?" Mrs. Weasley inquired cautiously.

"Um... mostly half-made potions."

"I had a second nose for three hours once," Tom chimed in helpfully. Ginny glared at him.

"Yes, we really need to get the formula for that one," Fred put in. "Did you write it down?"

Ginny transferred her glare to Fred. "No. I had other things on my mind."

The adult Weasleys exchanged another look. "I have to admit," Mrs. Weasley said seriously, "of all the possibilities I envisioned, their behaving like the twins was not on the list."

"Oh, they're nothing like us," George said, grinning. "We plan better, for one thing."

Tom's chin jerked up, and he had to bite down hard on responding to that as a challenge. Being underestimated could be good . . . .

"He was really very nice about Potions," Ginny persisted bravely. "Most people would have lost their temper by the third time or sooner."

"I was afraid you'd keel over on the spot if I did," Tom said. "Besides, it wasn't anything Madame Pomfrey couldn't fix."

Ginny looked at him, then rather beseechingly at her parents. "You see what I mean?"

"Well . . . yes," Mr. Weasley admitted.

"We understand you'd be staying with Harry and Sirius otherwise?" Mrs. Weasley asked kindly. Tom was startled to realize that it didn't sound like an insult; he'd heard too much of Professor Snape's opinion of Sirius Black and Draco's supposedly veiled attitude toward his own situation, probably.

"Yes, ma'am. Harry gave me a key over Christmas." Tom glanced over at him with an uneasy smile. "Ginny had offered earlier, though, and I don't want to be any trouble but I'd like --" He stopped and shrugged; he'd like what? For them to treat him as Ginny's friend instead of Voldemort's younger image, really; he might have somewhere to stay anyway and surely wasn't in any danger of failing to appreciate that, but he couldn't help the slightly panicked feeling that if they didn't want to have him for the summer, they'd probably forbid Ginny to talk to him or something too. Which would be very awkward. He couldn't say that, though, so he scrambled for an alternative. "Of course I suppose if neither had worked out I'd have had to ask Professor Dumbledore how to find somewhere."

Mrs. Weasley blinked. "I thought --"

"That," Ginny said in a tone carrying a certain amount of triumph, "was the other one."

Tom looked perplexed. "I think I'm missing something...."

"I always used to talk to Mum a lot," Ginny explained. "It's one of the things I missed . . . well, I should have written more to her. Ah . . . anyway, I got back to it more last summer, and some of it was about . . . the diary, and I remember mentioning that the other Tom really did not seem to like Dumbledore." She paused. "I think that's what she meant."

Tom snorted. "Well, he'd already gotten into the Dark Arts, of course he didn't like Dumbledore. I remember when he took his leave of absence to hunt down Grindelwald. I remember him coming back in time for exams. I'm surprised anybody in Hogwarts went dark that quickly afterward, especially . . . the other me."

"You admired him then?" Ron sounded slightly strangled. He'd been curiously quiet through the whole conversation. Ginny had been wondering if he'd already put in all his arguments somehow....

Tom blinked at Ron. "Of course. You don't know . . . I mean, it was just my first year, but everybody'd been through the war. I thought, when I went to Hogwarts, that everything was going to be okay because magic could solve anything. But the wizards were even more frightened than the Muggles, and all because of Grindelwald. And then Dumbledore just . . . went and hunted him down. You have no idea."

Tom looked around the room and made the rather startling discovery that all the Weasley boys (with the obvious exception of Bill and Charlie, who weren't present) were staring at him.

"What? And he was a good teacher, too, not that I actually had much class-time with him."

Ron shook his head slowly. "You know, you're going to have to tell stories . . . ."

Tom grinned a little uncertainly. "Well . . . remember I only had my first year, and he was gone for most of it."

Mr. Weasley folded his arms and looked reprovingly at his youngest son. "Don't I recall you making a comment about people who issue invitations without consulting the rest of the family?"

Ron looked somewhat abashed. "Well . . . the school year isn't over yet . . . ."

Mr. Weasley chuckled. "Don't worry." He exchanged a thoughtful look with his wife, then nodded slowly and turned to Tom. "I think we should be able to manage . . . if you don't mind a bit of crowding."

"And general chaos," Percy added.

"Unlike, for example, Hogwarts," Tom said wryly. Then his brain ran through the last bit of the conversation again, highlighting certain phrases. "Oh . . . that's, that's very kind of you, sir, thank you."

"Thank them after you make it through the summer, if you're still inclined to," Fred suggested cheerfully.

Ginny leaned over and poked Tom in the ribs. "See, I told you so." Tom managed to return a somewhat dazed smile.

"I do hope you understand," Mrs. Weasley was saying, "we did have to check, even with Professor Dumbledore's assurances."

Tom blinked. "I assumed you would -- Professor Dumbledore's assurances? He spoke for me?"

"He said that you appeared to be doing your best to avoid the kind of mistakes that led . . . er . . . You-Know-Who wrong," she explained a bit uncomfortably. "And he's almost never known to overlook something he's watching for."

"It seemed rather unlikely, all things considered, that you were an intentional danger," Mr. Weasley added. "We were still a little uncertain about the amount of time Ginny seemed to have been spending with you, after last year."

"Well, from what I've heard, I don't blame you. You've been a lot nicer than I thought you would be about it."

"And you're either exceptionally polite," Mr. Weasley said solemnly, "or up to something."

Tom's face froze for a moment, but then he caught the look in Mr. Weasley's eye and relaxed a bit. "Polite, I hope. Kind of a . . . nervous habit."

"As nervous habits go, that's not a bad one. Certainly better for the digestion than chewing one's nails," Mr. Weasley said kindly.

Ginny leaned over and remarked in a tone that would have been conspiratorial if it hadn't been audible to the entire room, "Most people don't realize the twins got their sense of humor from Dad."

"There're three of them? I was only prepared for two. Can I reconsider?" Tom asked, deadpan.

Ginny grinned, leaning back a bit as Harry sent a stray decorative pillow flying at Tom. "He's calmed down a lot, so Mum says."

"I'll rely on her good judgment, then."

"This," Harry observed, "is going to be an interesting summer." He paused, then looked at Mr. Weasley and asked cautiously, "Is Mr. Malfoy or anyone likely to try to cause more trouble?"

Mr. Weasley laughed. "I'd like to see him try. I wish I had a picture of his face when that slander of his was laughed out of the Ministry. No, I don't expect any trouble from Lucius Malfoy for a while."

Harry grinned. "That must have been something. It's good to know nobody seems to take that article seriously, though."

"I wish I knew how that wretched Skeeter woman found out about it in the first place," Ginny muttered.

"Very strange," Tom agreed. "Peony's going to love Mr. Weasley's news, though."

Ginny giggled. "Try not to do anything permanent to Malfoy; you don't need to give him another reason to hold a grudge."

"Well, I wasn't going to do it -- although I might consider helping."

"Who," Mrs. Weasley asked, "is Peony?"

"Peony Parkinson," Ginny elaborated, "a Slytherin first-year friend of Tom's who studies with us sometimes. She's nice. Entirely unlike her sister."

"She's usually very quiet -- Peony, that is, not Pansy. A little shy. Generally regarded as cute in a kittenish sort of way and therefore vastly underestimated."

"What exactly does she have against Malfoy, anyway?" Ron inquired. "I thought most of the Slytherins liked him all right."

Tom snorted. "And you spend enough time around us to tell, do you? Remember Peony's been going over to the Malfoys' probably since she was born, and her sister has a crush on him, and she's not an idiot."

Ron considered this. "That would do it."

"Anyway, a lot of us don't exactly like him, but there's not a lot most of us can do about it either."

"I know the feeling," Mr. Weasley admitted.

"Well, maybe he'll do something as absurd as his father did," Harry suggested optimistically.

"There's an idea," Tom mused.

"Three cheers for his humiliating himself," Ginny suggested, "although I'm not sure he'd notice."

"I'd notice, and that's the important thing." Tom stifled a yawn -- Marcus Flint had been on a pre-dawn practice kick, possibly in case they had to play during an eclipse, and it was wreaking absolute havoc with his sleep patterns. "I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but I've had an awfully long day, and I've got an early morning tomorrow. Thanks again for letting me stay over this summer, but if you'll excuse me I really should get to bed."

"Yes, Slytherin's trying to learn to play Quidditch blind," Harry put in.

"It wasn't my idea," Tom grumped. "Marcus Flint has gone absolutely insane about having to leave."

"You should hear Oliver Wood. He's great, but he's strategy-mad and usually nobody's quite sure what he's trying to get us to do until he puts away the blackboard."

"We didn't mean to keep you too late," Mrs. Weasley told Tom. "Do sleep well." They stood up when he did; Mr. Weasley shook his hand, and Mrs. Weasley disconcerted him completely by going to hug him.

As Tom walked downstairs toward the Slytherin dorms, he shook his head ruefully and couldn't help agreeing with Harry. This is definitely going to be an interesting summer.

*****