Cheers!

Eh heh, I guess I got too distracted with real life(: To be honest with you guys, I've no idea where this story is heading. It was so well-planned at first, then the story got ahead of me, and ta dah, I've no idea how to continue from here. But I figure I can't deny you guys their reunion, so there ya go(: Hope you enjoy this chapter! All mistakes in this chapter are purely mine.

Chapter 14

He couldn't move. He tried, but his limbs didn't want to cooperate. And so he knelt there, whispery voices and hazy figures at the edge of his awareness and vision, while he continued to tremble helplessly. He recognized the dampness on his cheeks, dimly registering his sharp, indrawn breaths. Nothing seemed important, but the very wisp of scene he was trying to grasp.

"Forever and ever…Harry…"

His mind seemed to be plunged into a deep darkness, and he no longer knew what he was thinking, what he was supposed to think. It was blank, deceptively blank. Something seemed to be hiding behind nothingness, and he didn't know what. Akin to a reflex, his fingers jerked up in front of his eyes, and he almost expected to see something there. His…ring? His emerald ring.

Something seemed to piece together within him, and he whispered almost agonizingly, "W-where is…it? Where is it?"

"Where is what? What, Harry?" Hermione asked, panicked, her hysterics mounting, right about to take control of her. She felt like a stranger on the other side of the window, unable to communicate, unable to make Harry recognize her, unable to do anything. Beside her, Draco looked almost haunted as he stared at the trembling boy. His heart thudded as he heard Harry's next sentence.

"My ring. The one Tom gave to me," Harry replied so softly that it was near impossible to catch, but with such resolution that for a moment, the both of them thought that he wasn't insane, and what he just said made sense.

But it didn't.

"W-what? Ring? You don't own a ring, Harry," Hermione whispered comfortingly, almost patronizingly, knowing how fragile he was. Draco didn't say a word, simply tightening his hold on the smaller boy.

Harry tilted his head sideways, a confused expression clouding his face as he murmured questioningly, "No ring? But I know I have never taken it off…Tom told me…" He broke off with a gasp as he shut his eyes close tightly. A thud roared its way through his head, and he whimpered softly.

Draco blinked at his words, and asked, "Who's Tom, Harry?"

It took a few seconds for the reply to come. Harry frowned and his brows creased, as though thinking deeply. "Tom…? My Tom, of course. Don't…you know him?"

"Humor me, Harry. Who's he? His full name," he whispered. Hermione looked at him curiously, and he shot her a warning glance not to interrupt.

Harry tilted his head, the frown returning back in full force. Shifting about in their embrace, he said matter-of-factly, "Tom Riddle. My bonded. Shouldn't you know? We invited you Malfoys to our…" he broke off with a hiss as his fingers flew to his forehead.

Both Draco and Hermione gasped at the same time, their eyes. Hermione blurted out, "Bonded? Harry what are you saying?" at the same time when Draco said harshly, "Tom Riddle? As in V-v-vol – You-know-who?"

Upon hearing that, Hermione turned her almost hysterical stare towards Draco and almost nearly shrieked, "What?"

"Shhhhhh!" Draco hushed instantly, glaring at her, "do you want the whole world, or even worse, Filch, to find us? Merlin!"

Harry whimpered, and attempted to curl in on himself as his headache pounded and multiplied in intensity. 'What were Draco and Hermione quarrelling about? My bonded…? Wait… That doesn't sound right. I'm only…Eleven years old? Or was it twenty?' He groaned loudly, silencing the other two, while he struggled to stand up.

"Harry! What are you trying to do?" Hermione hissed, trying to gain her balance after the boy broke away from her hold.

Harry mumbled softly and hurriedly, almost as though in a confused state, and all Hermione could hear was, "Need to find him."

"Need to find who? Harry, wait up!" Hermione and Draco scrambled up from their kneeling states and attempted to follow Harry, nearly knocking into each other in their haste.

Their confusion only doubled as a stumbling Harry made his way further into the corridor. Draco used his hands to guide him as he followed against the walls, while Hermione simply held on to his shirt and shuffled along, afraid to kick onto something. All the while, their eyes were trained on glimpses of Harry's silhouette, courtesy of the faint moonlight from a small window.

Hermione was the first one to realize where Harry was taking them to, and froze in her tracks as she clenched onto Draco's shirt tightly, not caring that she might have crumpled it.

"He's going to that hellhound, isn't he?" an alarmed whisper sounded, just as Harry's shadow disappeared round the corner, where the door leading to the dog resided.

-HP-

"And that boy! Always such a troublemaker, fighting a troll, Salazar!"

He ignored the rambling hisses from his companion, eyes trained on his surroundings. Something felt off, and not simply because he was in Dumbledore's territory. An undercurrent of unease lurked in the shadows, underneath all the pleased murmurings of Hogwarts as she embraced the return of her most favourite child – albeit of another universe.

"Once he remembers I hope he won't be as foolhardy! Goodness gracious, plunging fifty feet to get the sparkly ball!"

His eyebrow quirked at that sentence, and he asked amusedly, "He is still performing his Quidditch tricks? Well he did always love them…"

His amusement rose as the snake spluttered, "What? He's going to continue? He's not a bird, but a two legged man!"

Snorting, he gave the same line that Harry always fed him, "Well 'I belong to the sky', he says."

"Like hell!"

"Language, Eros. If Harry picks up this language, I will know who to blame," he reprimanded lightly, a teasing tone belying his words.

"If he remembers, the last thing you will care is his language. You'll be too busy ravag –" He coughed lightly to cut off the snake's statement.

"This way?" he questioned warningly, diverting the topic. The snake merely stared at him with her black beady eyes for a few seconds, and hissed nonchalantly, "Stop being such an asshole about Harry, and yes, the Stone's that way."

Tom pursed his lips and floated just a little faster. It wasn't that he was, as Eros put it, an asshole about Harry, but he couldn't help but be nervous. He wasn't sure if Harry would ever see him as Tom, his bonded anymore. For all he knew, he could have been indoctrinated into the 'fear Voldemort' club. He 'killed' his parents, and subjected him to the 'care' of Dursleys for the next ten years. How could Harry ever see him as his lover again? It didn't help that it was his fault that they landed in this universe.

All he wanted now, was the safety of Harry. Nothing else mattered.

The unease in the atmosphere grew stronger, and a thought struck him.

"Eros. Where's Harry now?" he asked urgently.

"Harry? His room, I suppose," came the puzzled reply.

"Are you sure?" he bit out nervously, not liking her reply.

"He should be. It's after curfew. You don't think…" she trailed off as she realized where he was getting at.

The air sparked with angry magic, and his bonds to Harry, no matter how weak they are, thrummed for a moment with something Tom recognized as hysterical panic.

"I don't think. I know," he hissed out bitingly, finally moving much more rapidly.

How could an eleven year old boy – with a twenty year old soul and magic – get into so much trouble?

The bonds connecting them pulled viciously, and Tom froze in his tracks, gasping for breath.

'Wha –?' he wondered confusedly. Taking in a deep breath, he ventured along the connection that he so feared after his soul broke apart – fearing that his insanity and instability would affect his lover. For a while he could feel nothing, and the next instant he was plunged into a pool of panic and mind-numbing fear. Flashes of his memories appeared before his eyes, but suddenly he knew. Those weren't his memories. Those were Harry's.

Sinking to his knees, he tried to extricate himself from the whirlpool of emotions, only to find himself stuck. He swallowed reflexively as he braved the storm of fear and bewilderment, and to his astonishment, caught sight of what he supposed Harry was seeing. He saw the darkness, felt the cold stone floors beneath his feet, spotted the glimpse of a huge wooden door, and heard the soft shuffling sounds behind him. He felt the hesitation, and yet sensed the underlying determination.

He heard someone – a girl – saying, "He's going to that hellhound, isn't he?"

His blood froze at those words.

Three months ago, Eros reported to him that the Philosopher's Stone was in Hogwarts. Two months ago, she said that she overheard plans regarding the Stone. One month later, he got hold of all the spells, traps and enchantments utilized to protect the Stone.

And one of them involved a Cerberus.

With a painful wrench, he pulled himself away from the bond, and felt like he was drenched in icy water; awake and gasping for breath. He nearly jumped in surprise when he realized that Eros was hissing intelligible words in his ear, distraught.

"Shh…" he placated.

Painfully, he pushed himself up from the floor, dimly aware of his scraped palms that probably came from gripping the rough stones on the floor too tightly. It was funny how only extreme pain could inflict injuries on him now, and only things that he wanted to touch could touch him. Brushing himself off, he picked the snake up and practically tore down the corridors, albeit still looking regal and dignified as he did so.

Coupled with his prior knowledge of the structure of Hogwarts, as well as Eros' directions, he soon found himself heading towards the underground dungeons. The cold seeped into the air, but he floated through it as though it didn't matter – and actually, it didn't really matter since he was almost impervious to anything. The dank smell grew stronger from the mold and dirt accumulated from the years of lack of usage, and soon enough, Eros was busy complaining.

Tightening his hold on the snake, he make a swift turn to the left, noting that it was the fifth out of the seven turns he needed to make. Not many knew that in the dungeons of Hogwarts, not only did the Slytherin dormitories exist, but so did a whole set of underground tunnels leading to almost everywhere in Hogwarts. No one knew these underground tunnels as well as he did. They had served well throughout his schooling years, not only as short-cuts, but also as hideaways.

'Where is he? He must be here somewhere, that half-blood bastard!'

He shook himself visibly as that memory unwittingly presented itself in his mind. His childhood had never been pleasant, and his first few schooling years hadn't been much better, until he discovered the depths of his power, his heritage, and influence. The sixth and seventh years that made his life hell at first hadn't stood a chance after that.

A soft hissing caught his attention, and he blinked almost surprisedly as he faced a pile of rubble.

'That hadn't been there in my universe,' he mused, 'now what?'

Eros echoed his sentiments.

Time ticked by, and he began feeling just a little panicky. He quickly squashed that tendril of panic, firm in his control of his emotions. A Lord had to handle different situations with a cool head, and he was one of the most experienced Lords, of one of the most powerful houses. An idea struck him, and he reached out to Hogwarts and requested her to help.

"Why…not yourself?"

"I can only use my magic when my emotions run high, Hogwarts my lady. My magic is bound mostly as a spirit," a tinge of regret and resentment coloured his respectful tone. The partial loss of magic was a constant source of frustration for him, for magic was his life.

Silence filled the cramped tunnel for a few seconds, and just as Tom thought that Hogwarts had whimsically forgotten his request again, a rush of magic made his head spin for a moment. The corner of his lips quirked up in a slight smile and he watched gratefully as the rubble lifted themselves and fitted back into the ceiling and the surrounding walls, slowly but steadily paving a way towards where he knew held the Stone.

-HP-

The air was thick with the mind-numbing smell of fear and anxiety, intertwined with the smell of cold sweat and perspiration. Draco and Hermione huddled right behind Harry, each grasping hold of one arm, gently, yet insistently pulling. But Harry wasn't budging.

"It's behind this door, I tell you! Draco, Hermione, let me go!" a soft voice broke out pleadingly.

None of his usual control presented himself as Harry practically clung to the door handle like a child clutching to his mother's skirt, refusing to let go at all. A sense of desperation filled him as he tried to persuade his two friends to let him proceed – alone or together, he wasn't picky. He knew that his questions were somehow going to be answered behind the door. All his dreams that plagued him since young, all the strange feelings, and all the inexplicable scenes in his mind.

A scuffling right at the end of the corridor caught all of their attention, and for a moment, all three froze. Harry felt the end of his sleeve being curled tighter into Hermione's hand, his heart pumping wildly as the sound grew louder. As the scraping sounds approached them, the trio tensed up and started backing up against the very thing they wanted to run away from – the door leading to the Cerberus. In one swift movement, Harry turned around and yanked open the door, pulling all three of them into the room.

Draco blinked in surprise to see the previously active and overly ferocious dog slumped down on the floor. At the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione gape at the exact same scene. Harry merely glanced at the Cerberus dispassionately, and his eyes flitted right and left, before stopping right at the dark corner on their right. Tentatively, both Draco and Hermione tiptoed to follow Harry, who stepped much closer to the unconscious dog. It was only then that Draco and Hermione heard it: orchestral music flowing softly in the room. Draco recognized the tune instantly.

"Danse Macabre," he whispered. Music, unlike other inventions, hadn't been discriminated by the Pureblood society, simply because it was a thing that existed since the beginning of time. Different styles may be preferred, but beautiful music were equally appreciated. Certain composers especially, were favoured as they had possessed magical blood, or were squibs of famous bloodlines.

Like politics and heritage, pureblooded children were taught from young about their artistic culture and traditions. The Malfoy family in particular, had always been well-versed with it.

Harry murmured, "It's a beautiful piece. Look here."

The change in subject was so abrupt that for a moment both of them couldn't catch up. Harry beckoned them with a wave of his hands, and they cautiously shifted themselves so that they were behind the Cerberus.

"Look," Harry repeated, softly.

Squinting into the dark, it was Hermione who spotted it first.

"A trapdoor!" she gasped, "but…how?"

"More like why, Hermione," Draco commented grimly, "shall we?"

Nodding tightly, Harry bent down and tugged on the metal ring, slightly surprised at how easy it was to pull it open. The trap door swung up effortlessly, hampered only by the heavy weight of the Cerberus, and without any hesitation Harry shimmied across the small dark gap and dropped into the unknown.

Draco persistently ignored the fact that it was a stupid idea to slide himself into somewhere that was potentially dangerous, unsafe, life-threatening, and Merlin forbid, slimy, and bravely slid himself across the floor. He gulped when he realized that his legs dangled in the air, and there was no probable ground anywhere near. Taking in a deep breath, he pushed himself off the hard stone floor. For an instant, he hung in midair, before plunging right down into darkness. For the first time throughout their adventurous night, he screamed out his bottled up fear.

Training to control his emotions under a mask could only do that much.

That left with Hermione, who had turned ashen-face. She shuffled forward reluctantly, summoning what was left of her Gryffindor courage, and knelt down beside the trap door. She froze there, paralyzed by the unknown. She had always been in the know, especially in terms of academic knowledge. Knowledge was her walking stick – without it, she was blind, she was afraid. And she was afraid then.

She clenched her sweaty palms, and inched her way slowly through the gap. A sound of movement caught her attention, and she slowly looked up, frightened of what she may see. True enough; the Cerberus was blinking at her sleepily, its paws scratching the back of one of its ears. It was then that she realized that the music had stopped playing. In a matter of a few seconds, she decided that the unknown was a lesser evil than being eaten up by a dog, and pushed her way through the gap.

-HP-

He felt like he was walking in a dream. Everything seemed surreal, everything seemed to be there with a purpose, yet without purpose. He wasn't in control of his movements, but he wasn't panicking, because he knew where he was going. And yet he didn't know.

Did that make sense?

It probably didn't. It was just like a dream.

Mechanically, he watched Hermione shoot bluebell flames at the plants trapping them, and he slid dispassionately down onto the ground. Impatience shot through him as he watched his two friends struggle to stand and balance themselves, which was strange in itself. He was exasperated, irritated, annoyed by the two of them at times, but never impatient. Impatience was for the other fools in the school.

A surge of magic flowed through the air, and he looked up. The call for him was getting stronger. Whirling around, he stepped through the only tunnel he could see, barely registering the fact that Hermione and Draco had just regained their balance and were running after him.

He had barely took one step in when a sudden whisper in his head made him stop. Blinking, he savoured the momentary lapse of sanity as he recognized who it was.

'Hogwarts?'

'My child, take the door in the corner… All your questions…will be answered…' The whisper was soft, but resolute and clear. Harry didn't hesitate when he turned back. His eyes scanned the small cavern through with a surprisingly large amount of patience, while his mind conversed with its temporary inhabitant.

'Who will be there?' he asked, uncaring that it may sound rude.

'My child…my child will be there,' the whisper grew just a little louder, and the next instant, the familiar presence in his head disappeared. Already used to Hogwarts' whimsical ways, Harry ignored it. It took a few scans before he managed to spot a flash of wood in the corner furthest from him.

"Harry? Isn't it this way… Oh," Hermione asked hesitantly, only to be dumbfounded when her raven haired friend pulled open a hidden door.

Silence settled uncomfortably between the three as Draco and Hermione tried to ignore the fact that Harry had just became weirder. A choked laugh from Draco seemed to tense up the atmosphere even further, as he commented half-heartedly in a failed attempt to lighten the mood, "Well, kind of obvious that the professors wouldn't rummage through whatever that is after that tunnel…"

Harry hadn't even heard that comment. The pull on him had gotten so strong that he could hardly breathe. He tried to take a deep breath to calm himself, and when it failed, he gulped and tightened his muscles that were starting to tremble. Only when he felt that he wouldn't fall while walking did he progress on.

The door led to a rather spacious tunnel that was clearly used recently. None of the usual dank underground smell lurked, and there were no fungi or decaying plants anywhere.

"Lumos," Hermione whispered, and the next instant the gentle light washed over where they were standing.

Harry blinked when his path was suddenly illuminated. He hadn't even noticed Hermione casting the spell. His attention was once again diverted by the tug within him.

Exhaling softly, he followed the evolving pull on him. It seemed like an eternity as they walked on the same looking path, but a comfortable atmosphere settled between them, with Hermione murmuring spells to brighten the place or clear any fallen rocks, and Draco turning back every now and then to check if anyone followed them, while Harry, being the only one who seemed to know where he was going, did the leading.

Up…down…left…left…right…

Dimly, somewhere within him, he was gratified that no one was asking any questions. But expressing that gratitude will have to wait. He knew that his answers lay… behind that door.

They came to halt behind a small, yet heavily locked door. Hermione raised her wand and tried a series of complicated-sounding spells to no avail. As the barrage of spells came to a lull, there was no awkward pause as Harry merely raised his hands and laid them on the door, leaning forward so that his forehead touched the cold, hard metal of the locks.

"Tom, open the door," he breathed.

His heart leapt as he heard a click, and he quickly pushed himself off the door as it swung open.

Two bursts of red light shot from the darkness and the mist that lay beyond, hitting his two friends in the next second. A quick glance ensuring that they hadn't hit their head on anything put him at ease, and he bravely took a step forward.

Raising his wand, he murmured, "Lumos."

Eyeing the mist suspiciously, it didn't take long for him to decide that it was magically induced. He raised his hand once more, and said, his voice trembling, "Finite Incantatem."

The mist shifted, revealing partially the same man he had been looking for – the one in the troll incident, the one that was in the mirror – with a snake coiled up his left hand.

He reeled back in recognition.

"Eros…" he hissed confusedly, and he tilted his head upwards to look into his eyes.

Crimson clashed with emerald, and Harry screamed.

Scenes flooded his mind, scenes that he knew were familiar, that he knew he had seen in dreams before.

There's nothing I can do, Lord Potter. I have tried all I can.

I love you, eternally.

I love you too, forever.

He felt his head being gently tilted up, and felt his lips being covered by something warm, moist, yet bitterly distant at the same time.

Something seemed to break within him, and flashes of memories no longer became scenes. Instead, a whole story presented itself before him.

He gasped lightly and arched off the ground – since when was he on the floor? – clenched his eyes shut as what he once knew became his knowledge again. It felt like being dunked in cold water and yet surrounded by warmth at the same time. But he felt alive. Much more alive and refreshed than he had ever been as an aimless child for the past ten years.

He knew who he was.

He remembered.

Tom.

Review! Thanks for reading!

- Myxa