[3rd September 1991 - Early Morning]

Draco stumbled past the guards, still stationed at the entrance to the Slytherin common room, and out to the corridor. Last night had been insane. He'd spent most of it waiting for the inevitable news that Harry had been captured, and was being prepared for as-near-as-permanent-as-possible residence in the hospital wing, but it hadn't happened. Somehow, he'd escaped.

Not only that, but only minutes after his dramatic disappearance, the sixth years had come down from the boys first-year dorms, to announce that all of Potter's stuff had already gone.

That had caused a ripple of consternation and grudging admiration throughout the common room. Even if Slytherin as a whole was incensed with Potter's behavior, they could still appreciate a well thought out and executed plan. It was just too bad that Potter's strategic capabilities were not at the level of his tactical ones.

He was now persona-non-gratis in Slytherin and, outside of a few comments in class, there was no way to continue their friendship. Harry had been right, he was 'going away', but the idea that in a year, he'd be back, was inconceivable. What did he want to do? Eject the entire of Slytherin house all by himself?

He'd have to owl his father to ask for advice.

Draco frowned.

But he still didn't have any updates on Tammy. His father had owled him yesterday saying she was almost certainly a relative, possibly even the daughter, of the Dark Lord, and the most likely mother would have been his aunt, Bellatrix, possibly making Tammy his cousin. That had floored him. He'd gone on to write that she should be treated with utmost respect and diffidence, regardless of her house, and that should he encounter any opportunity to aid or help her, he should take it, regardless of rule one.

He had DADA with Tammy later that day… that should give a good opportunity to reach out to her. Then he could write the owl.

Thoughts filled with the tall, dark haired witch, who'd hissed in his ear, Draco sauntered up to breakfast.


"Hey Fred," called George from the foot of Fred's bed.

"Yes George?" Fred replied, still wiping sleep from his eyes.

"Where'd you put the map last night?"

"Umm. Should be in my trunk's secret compartment, like it always is."

"It's not there."

"What?" Fred sounded alarmed. He leapt from his four-poster, and started to shift through the associated detritus around his space with no luck.

"Maybe Lee borrowed it?"

"Maybe… but he wouldn't just take it without asking first."

"If it wasn't Lee, then we may have ourselves a thief."

The twins looked at each other, this was not good.


Professor McGonagall sighted the two red haired terrors as they descended the stairs from their dorms.

"Messers Weasley and Weasley. Please come here," her voice was sharp and clearly annoyed.

The twins, wondering what they'd been caught for, looked at each other before marching over and standing to theatrical attention in front of their head of house.

"Headmaster Dumbledore wishes to speak to you immediately regarding your absolutely unacceptable stunt yesterday. The password is gum drops, and I for one, must say I am VERY disappointed in your actions."

The twin's mouths dropped. In the two years they'd been at Hogwarts, they'd never once been summoned to the headmaster's office. Surely they hadn't done anything that bad yesterday had they?

"Um, Professor…" Fred started, "are you sure there's not been a misunderstanding here?"

McGonagall's nostrils flared.

"Don't you DARE try to wriggle out of it. -No," she cut off George who'd been opening his mouth to speak, "Your actions caused over thirty first-year students to miss their whole first day of classes. That. is. beyond. a joke!"

The twins just stared, wide eyed, and slack jawed.

"Well? Get a move on."

The twins started for the common room door. Obviously, they'd been accused of something they hadn't done. Oh well. It was an occupational hazard of being a full time prankster. Luckily, they knew they could rely on Dumbledore to figure out the truth. The man was scary like that sometimes.


Dumbledore still looked disappointed.

"And that is why I am have no other choice but to assign you detentions every night for the next month, take fifty points from Gryffindor, remove Hogshead privileges for the rest of the year, owl your parents about your behavior, and require you to personally apologize to every student that wound up in the hospital wing."


"I know you two enjoy finding unusual outlets for your talents and skills, but your actions yesterday could have had very real long term consequences for those involved," he looked from one twin to the other, every wrinkle on his face expressing his sadness and disappointment that two such fine, outstanding members of young wizarding society, could so profoundly misjudge the line between playful jokes and getting innocent people hurt.


"Your first detention will be cleaning the trophy room with Filch, tonight at 7:00pm. You will report to Professor McGonagall every day at 7:00 after that to be assigned that nights detention."

"But. But. Buuut…"
"But. But. Buuut…"

"Off you both go now," he turned to look out the window across the grounds, "I'm sure you will not be wanting to miss breakfast on top of all your other troubles."

The two twins looked at each other, shoulders slumped, defeated, and slunk out the door.

As soon as the door closed, the headmaster chuckled. It was so useful having people like the Weasley twins around. He'd have to make sure Molly didn't overreact too much. It wouldn't do to actually have them removed from school after all, but this certainly did get Minerva off his back about yesterday's mini epidemic.

Still looking amused, the headmaster walked back to his desk and unpacked his latest purchase from the muggle world. It was an A2 poster, which he cheerfully stuck to the wall behind his throne, clearly visible to all who visited him. The poster had a black background with a white border and showed a colony of bees fending off an attack by a swarm of wasps. Dead bees festooned the entrance to the hive, but the wasps were very clearly losing. The caption under the picture read: 'THE GREATER GOOD - Because we all have to make little sacrifices'.



"Lets face it, brother of mine," Fred Weasley began, "this morning hasn't been the greatest."

"That's an understatement oh brother of mine," answered George.

They were walking into the great hall, which by now was packed.

They spotted a pair of very inviting empty seats at the Gryffindor table and made a beeline for them.

The twins sat down and Fred grabbed a fork, which instantly slid out of his hand and dropped on the table with a clink.

Fred looked at his hand, surprised while George was trying and failing to pick up a spoon.

"Umm… George," Fred started, a feeling of dread creeping up his spine, "it's just occurred to me where we're sitting."

George looked up. A familiar black-haired, first-year witch was silently watching them from several seats away, her slate grey eyes danced with mirth.

"Ah. Damn," George grimaced.

"Hey Tammy!" Fred called, "how long is this going to last for?"

George was now trying to pick up a plate by carefully lifting it at a 90 degree angle to the table, which worked, until he tried to tip some of the food onto his plate, whereupon the whole plate slid out of his grasp and onto his plate, leaving him with a carefully selected breakfast of two dozen hard boiled eggs.

"I really don't know what you mean," Tammy replied, "After all, I'm just a feisty, little-lady, firsty."

"Errr. right." Fred suddenly looked even more uncertain.

Over the next 15 minutes, the twins furthered the noble art of eating, sans hands, to the general dismay of their fellow Gryffindors. Ron, in particular, looked disgusted, until someone pointed out this was what he looked like while eating.

The second youngest Weasley looked down at the half finished breakfast he'd been shoveling down his gob, and carefully started cutting up his sausages like a proper pureblood, much to the relief of those sitting around him.


Hermione was sitting at the front of the classroom, next to her friend Su, waiting for their history teacher, who she'd been told was a ghost(!), to arrive and start imparting man's greatest treasure. Although, why Rowena Ravenclaw would specify men was lost to her, unless she'd simply been making a comment on what she found attractive.

"Hermione Granger, good morning."

Hermione looked around to see the girl who'd offered to help her find Neville's toad on the train.

"Oh, Good morning, errr..," she struggled for the name.

"Tammy, Tammy Riddle," Tammy smiled, "Don't worry about it, although you should probably know that forgetting someone's name is probably the worst insult you could ever give someone in the wizarding world."

"err… I'm-I'm sorry." Hermione looked down at the desk, her good mood rapidly fading. She knew she wasn't the best with people, but it always hurt when it was pointed out to her.

"Like I said, don't worry about it. Most pureblood children are given name and face memorization training since they started to talk."

The girl sat down next to her.

"I actually wanted to ask you something."

"Oh?" The Ravenclaw girl looked up.

"Me and a friend are thinking of starting a long term project to build a broom. I was wondering if you'd be interested in joining at some point in the future?"

Hermione looked confused, and slightly suspicious. "Build a broom? Why are you asking me?"

"Well rumor has it you and your Slytherin boyfriend-" Hermione choked, "-really impressed Professor McGonagall in transfiguration. They're already calling you a prodigy you know. And building a broom is hard."

"He's not my boyfriend!" Hermione all but shrieked.

"What? Of cause he is."

The majority of the class had quieted now and was listening in.

"No he isn't! Why are you saying that?" her face reddened.

"He's a Slytherin," Tammy stated, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, "the only way he'd get away with being your friend, especially as a muggleborn, is if you were in a relationship."

"Well, we're not!"

Tammy frowned. She'd seen Potter sitting at the Ravenclaw table during breakfast, chatting happily away to Granger.

"Well… I should probably tell you that the only way he could have not ended up in the hospital wing last night, after curfew, is if he claimed you as his girlfriend."

"WHAT?!… wait, what do you mean, end up in the hospital wing?"

"Slytherin house has a strict no-helping-people-outside-the-house policy, which they enforce with force if needed."

"That's barbaric!"

"Yeah, well… welcome to pureblood politics."

Hermione was looking at Tammy half in disbelief and half panic.

"…You…You really think he said that?"

"I don't see any other way he's still walking around."

"How do you know all this anyway?" Hermione accused, "aren't you muggleborn, like me?"

"Probably yeah, muggle raised anyway. But I do like to read a lot."

"So do I," Hermione shot back, "what books are you reading?"

"Um… 'Modern Wizarding Customs'…"

"Read it."

'A Muggleborn's Guide to the Magical World?'

"Read it."


Tammy was saved from Hermione's inquisition when Professor Binns glided through the blackboard, and immediately started roll call. She mentally sighed in relief. Hermione Granger was altogether far too sharp. The last thing she needed was for it to get out that she had any kind of connection to Voldemort. That would be really bad.

She glanced over at the bushy-haired, future-genius, whose face was still flaming-red, equal parts angry and mortified.

Looked like it was just going to be her and Ron for a while then…


"There, look."


"The Slytherin on his own."

"On his own? Slytherins are never on their own."

"Wearing the glasses."

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

"Did you see him disappear into thin air at the end of class?"

"I heard he's a shadow mage and can leap through the darkness."

"I heard he's heir of all four houses and can apparate through the wards."

"I heard he's a phoenix animagus and can travel by flame."

"Why wasn't there any fire then?"

"Duh, it was obviously invisible fire."

The whispers that followed Harry the day before were nothing compared to what he was getting now he'd started fading from place to place. Without accurate information of what had happened in the Slytherin common room, which rule one restricted, the rumors were getting wilder and wilder.

This was of little concern though. The general thrust of the rumors was accurate, and he'd been summoned to the headmaster's office for the second time in as many days. Deep in the back of his mind, Harriet put up her feet and grabbed a box of popcorn. It was time, again, to play mental balderdash.


Ron and Tammy had a free period, and were sitting in a quiet corner of the Gryffindor common room, discussing their plans over a casual game of chess. Ron was winning, much to Tammy's annoyance.

"So, what are we going to need to do first?" Ron asked.

"I think we should do a double attack on both the theory and the application."

"You think one of us should specialize in theory and one in application?"

Tammy picked up her knight and took a lone pawn.

"Nah, two pieces forking is better," she smiled.

Ron looked down at the new position and frowned.

"How long will it be until we can do our first application?" He continued to move his pieces as she moved hers.

"Depends on how long it will take to get the materials, we can sneak out to the forest for wood. As for the tools… I think I know where we can get them. Our first application isn't going to be impressive though, testing out basic levitation runes, that sort of thing."

"So, we're definitely going to have to use runes?"

"Oh yeah, thank Merlin."


"Well, runes don't use wands right? At least, for the most part. They absorb magic from the materials they use or from the surroundings, or directly from a wizard's touch, so we can continue our project even through the summer."

Ron looked up, shocked.

"You mean we can do rune stuff at home? It's not against the law?"

"Nope. Only wand magic is illegal for minors. Otherwise, you'd never be allowed to use any of the stuff in your house, or children's toys, or, well… anything."

Ron grinned. "This is going to be awesome."

"Isn't it."

"So, what's the first step?" Ron asked.

"We should probably head down to the library and try to put together a map of the subjects we're going to be tackling. Kind of like a quidditch player formation map, but with subjects instead of players."

Ron frowned, "OK. I guess I can picture that."

"We can go after DADA this afternoon."

Ron grimaced. "DADA's with the Slytherins, right?"

"Oh, yes," Tammy grinned, "What?" she nudged Ron's arm playfully from across the table, "aren't you excited to meet the famous Harry Potter?"

Ron looked uncomfortable. "Yeah… but… he's a Slytherin. But… he's also the-boy-who-lived."

"Not all Slytherins are bad you know."

Ron looked up at her, disbelieving.

"The sorting hat really wanted to put me in Slytherin you know."

Ron gaped. "No way! There's no way you could ever be a Slytherin! You're way too cool for that."

Tammy raised an eyebrow.

"I-I mean…" Ron's ears reddened.

"Knight to c6."

Ron looked down at the board, mouth open. His king was now pinned, and his queen and rook, forked.

"You… you sneaky witch."



"Ah, Harry, Do please come and sit down, my boy."

"Hello Headmaster. To what do I owe this summons?" He glanced at the poster now hanging behind the headmasters throne and stifled a snort of laughter.

"Harry, what is this rumor that says you can apparate within the school?"

"Sir? Surely you don't pay attention to the rumors of school children?"

"Harry. The ability to move instantly from place to place represents a large safety and security concern. Not to mention the fact that you are underage and unlicensed to apparate."

"Well. For what its worth Headmaster, you have my assurances that I don't apparate."



"Do you do anything else Harry?"

"Oh yes, many things… I eat, I sleep, I go to classes-"


"Oh, you mean do I have another method of instant transportation. Yes."




Dumbledore sighed. This was like extracting teeth from a live thestral. "What is that method Harry?"

"I can't tell you Headmaster."

"Why not?"

Harry kept his face perfectly straight. "It is another power that he knows not."



Albus Dumbledore leaned back on his throne and rubbed his temples.

The boy had just left, vacant eyed, and potioned to the maximum safely allowable.

Apparently the instant transportation ability was a Potter family spell, which, from a legal standpoint, was frustrating, but would explain a lot about how James Potter had been able to pull off many of his stunts. But Harry shouldn't have access to the Potter Grimoire. It was in the Potter vault at Gringotts, and Harry wouldn't have access until he was 17. Not even he could access it.

The boy-seer had regained many of the memories Albus had wiped from him just two days ago, gained a few new ones, and didn't seem affected by the potions he'd dosed him with.

That should not be possible.

The ghosts were refusing to report to him on the boy, for some reason.

The paintings were seeing little as he now 'faded' everywhere.

At least he'd managed to erase that little trick from the boys mind… but… if he got it back again…

Albus Dumbledore started to sweat as he realized what an uncontrollable Harry Potter could mean.

No. That was ridiculous. The child was only eleven. Besides. He'd heard from Severus this morning about what happened in the Slytherin common room last night.

Despite his mounting unease, Albus chuckled. Harry had alienated his entire house in the worst way possible. All that seer knowledge had obviously missed out a lot of important context, or he'd have realized what a large mistake he was making. After a few months of being excluded and hunted down by his peers, the boy would be desperate and then he, Albus Dumbledore, could step in to offer him help.

Then he could get Harry back to where he needed to be for the boy's own good. Thank Merlin. The boy was starting to cause him more unease than Miss Riddle.

Why couldn't he be more like his other pet project? The Longbottom boy had already formed a good relationship with Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott, at least, and it had only been one day so far. It wasn't enough, of cause, but it was a very good start. All it had taken was a little push in the right direction, and a little clearing of the way.

Dumbledore smiled and popped a lemon drop.

'I wonder if it might not be a good idea to accelerate my plans a bit…'


Ashley Atkins sat at her usual place at the Slytherin table in the great hall, and severed herself lunch, trying not to attract too much attention.

The sorting hat had warned her about the troubles she'd face as a muggleborn, if she stuck to her guns and insisted on being sorted into the house of the cunning and ambitious. She'd paid them no heed and now she was paying the price.

No one from the other houses would give her the time of day, and no one from her house would either. During those times when her fellow Slytherins did pay attention to her, it was to bully her, or to demand she do their work for them, or do chores, such things as befitted her 'station in life'.

'Just four more years. One day at a time,' she told herself. It was all she could tell herself right now.

When Harry Potter had stood up to that bastard Spenser, who'd spent the whole of last year alternatingly putting her down, and trying to get into her knickers, she'd been one of those standing and cheering.

When Potter had gone on to give the entire house the figurative middle finger and declare war on it, she'd wanted to cheer, but didn't dare to. Now that was bravery. And ambition. Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Of course, Potter was now exiled and would never be coming back. That's what happened in the real world when people without power took on those who had it. Ashley looked down at her plate, resigned and bitter, and stabbed at her roast potatoes with all the grace and poise of the mudblood she knew herself to be.


After rehabilitating himself from visiting the headmaster and grabbing a quick meal in the kitchens, Harry, the halfblood Slytherin with seemingly Gryffindor tendencies, walked towards the DADA classroom.

Tammy and Quirrellmort in the same room.

He'd checked the map this morning, after liberating it from the twins, and there was no doubt about it. Quirrell had Tom Riddle on the back of his head, just like usual.

He rounded a corner and met a group of Slytherin upper years who scowled at him, and began to draw their wands. Before any could cast a spell though, Harry faded beyond the next corner and continued on as though he'd just stepped over a fallen bag.

The map also confirmed that Tammy was, in fact, Tammy. No polyjuice or glamour nonsense going on. She was currently sitting in the front of the classroom with Ron, only a half-dozen meters away from Tom.

Well… There should be one sure fire method to test whether Tammy was Voldemort. Hardcore purebloods didn't really go in for handshakes, but hand kisses between pureblood wizards and witches were still quite common. So long as he didn't grip too hard, the burning should be only mild. If the worse came to the worse and both Tammy and Tom attacked him, he'd fade to Dumbledore and fade them both back.

Harry hurried through the classroom door and made his way to the front of the class, just as his fellow Slytherins were rounding the opposite hallway corner.

Tammy was there, deep in conversation with his sometimes-close friend, Ron Weasley. She… sort of looked like a Black from the back… she had the right hair, long, straight, and midnight… well… black.

Harry thumped down onto the bench and slid down until he was an arms length away.

"Hello there," he smiled.

Tammy turned, she looked surprised.

"Harry Potter, scion of the ancient and noble house of Potter, heir apparent of the most ancient and noble house of Black."

And, without waiting for a reply, he kept looking into those dark grey eyes and reached for her hand. And their fingers touched.


[A few minutes before Harry arrived]

Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort, was puzzled, and confused, and suspicious, and trying to be as cautious as possible. It felt like a losing battle.

When the sorting hat had announced a Tammy Riddle, his first instincts had been to grab Quirrell's eyes and legilimens the heck out of the girl. It had only been decades of Slytherin politics, and surviving among the most dangerous wizards in the world that had staid his metaphorical hand, and let him realize what this probably was. A trap.

He knew he didn't have a daughter, or granddaughter, or anything. And if, by some incredible circumstances, he did, they certainly wouldn't be wandering around with the name Riddle.

Dumbledore knew he was after the stone. He also knew, Dumbledore knew that he knew the stone was now at Hogwarts. It would be well within character for the old fool to setup some incentives for Voldemort to draw attention to himself. He'd chosen well. A female Gryffindor student called Tammy Riddle had certainly almost done it. But no. He wouldn't be fooled by such things.

But now…

He was standing at the front of the DADA classroom, making full use of Quirrell's body, and staring at this—he glanced down at the attendance sheet again—Miss Tammy Merope Riddle.

The trap, which was the only way he could think of the girl, was talking to a Weasley and seemed to be good friends with it.

She looked so much like him, it was eerie. Those eyes, slate grey, and that face, the muggle aristocratic features that melded so perfectly with pureblood femininity. On him it had looked striking and imposing. On her… it looked ethereal with a hint of sharpness, like some kind of Black/Lovegood cross. Even as an eleven year old, it was clear she was going to grow up to be the kind of witch wizards fought duels over.

It was so tempting… It's not like there was anyone else of consequence around…

Very cautiously, Tom reached out with the most gentle legilamcy probe he could, and brushed against the girls mind.

He encountered almost no resistance, felt the excitement and anticipation for the start of class, and the interest in her current conversation.

He pushed a little, gently sinking into her unprotected mind. Some of her recent memories flashed across his consciousness; a plot to build a broom, an argument about Potter's love life, a particularly humiliating chess match.

He pushed further, looking for clues as to her life before Hogwarts, and was shocked.

Memories of the orphanage, his orphanage, shot through his mind; the annoyance of having to do chores, the fear of the older children who'd bully her, the frustration of not being able to afford new makeup and clothes, like those girls in the magazines.

Tom Riddle pulled out of the girl's mind so quickly he actually took a step backwards.

What. the. hell.


Tammy didn't react when she felt the legilimency probe. She'd been expecting it from the moment she'd walked into the classroom. It was actually surprising just how much restraint the insane bastard was showing. Tammy didn't like remembering her first life, but she was pretty sure she wouldn't have been able to restrain herself in this situation. It would be far too big an insult to original Voldemort's pride. Children were one of things original Voldemort loathed. Not just in the normal manner of disliking their behavior, but for what they symbolized. The immortality of life, in exchange for the mortality of the individual. The idea that he'd unknowingly had a child would be too much.

Behind her undetected occlumency shields, Tammy smirked when the Tom Riddle in front of her recoiled from some of the more feminine memories, from what looked like his own upbringing. Femininity was another thing original Voldemort couldn't stand, seeing it as weak and submissive, mistakenly believing the two to be the same thing.

Original Voldemort could never understand the satisfaction to be had from willingly submitting to a worthy power. That misunderstanding partly explained why he'd turned into such a monster. He forgot that people would follow him for reasons other than fear and hate.

Bellatrix had been the perfect example, totally submissive to her lord and master… and no one ever called her weak.

"It smells awfully like garlic in here," Ron whispered, trying not to let his voice carry to the teacher's desk.

"Yeah, I heard the professor had a bad run in with a vampire once," Tammy replied, trying not to grin as Quirrell regained control of his body after Tom had retreated from the pre-teen horrors of Tammy's head.

"You think we'll be learning to defend against them?"

"Nah, that's NEWT level material. We'll be starting out slow, although, if my suspicions are correct, we probably won't be learning to cast any actually spells with this guy."

"What? But, don't we have to cast spells in the exam at the end of the year?"

"Most likely, Yes."

Ron frowned. "That doesn't seem right."

"It's not. If I'm right, we'll probably have to do some practice outside of class, but if we want to go into the forest for our real project, it would probably be a good idea to learn some defensive spells anyway."

"Oh, yeah," said Ron, remembering their need for wood, "good idea."

They waiting a few moments while the time to the start of class ticked away.

"The Slytherins are almost late," Tammy commented.

"Yeah, well, Potter will be on time. I'm just waiting for him to apparate in."

Tammy looked unconvinced. "Yeah, I've heard those rumors. I've no idea where they came from. You can't apparate inside Hogwarts grounds. The wards won't let you."

"Well… he is the boy-who-lived. He's already done impossible things right? Maybe this is just another of them."

Tammy scoffed. "Look, I know it might be nice to ascribe godlike powers to him, but he was only a baby when that thing with Vol- err… you-know-who happened. He's not just going to suddenly appear next to you."

Ron nodded to the space behind her, an amused smile playing across his face.

"Hello there," came a cheerful voice from behind her.

Tammy turned, caught out, and found herself looking into a pair of familiar killing-curse green eyes, ones she'd not seen this close for over a thousand years. They seemed to bore into her soul, but she couldn't detect so much as a trace of legilimency. Before, whenever she'd looked into those eyes, they'd been filled with hate and fear, now, they were full of life and confidence, twinned with a disarming smile.

"Harry Potter, scion of the ancient and noble house of Potter, heir apparent of the most ancient and noble house of Black."

And before she knew what was happening, Tammy felt the warm grasp of his hand on hers and… the world went weird.

She felt something pulling at her, something deep. Those emerald green eyes, which had been full of confidence, now registered shock. The smile had vanished. The pulling was becoming more defined and the feeling was familiar, it had traces of a dementor's kiss. It felt like her very soul was being shifted and moved around, like a small part of it was being pulled towards the boy sitting in front of her.

Tammy started to panic, she tried to let go of Potter's hand but her muscles weren't listening to her. The tug on her soul continued, but something was stopping it. It wasn't moving any further. Wasn't bridging the gap between herself and him. Focusing all her will into her occlumency, she bit down on her own tongue, hard, and was rewarded with a stabbing pain, which broke whatever was holding her.

Tammy wrenched her gaze and hand away from his, and shoved herself back into Ron, knocking him off the end of the bench.

"Ow!" Ron exclaimed, "What was that for?"

Potter was still looking at her in shock, and… was that a hint of glee?

"We're moving. Now," she stated.

"What? What for? What happened?" Ron protested.

"Later," she hissed, grabbing her bag and making her way to the back of the room, as far away from Potter as possible.

What the hell had that been? Tammy was shaking. The closest thing she'd experienced to this had been that one time a dementor had tried to kiss her, but this certainly hadn't been that. When a dementor kissed someone, the soul resisted, tried to fight it. This though... her soul felt like it was willingly reaching out, desperately stretching its arms through the bars of an internal prison. It was terrifying.

Tammy didn't have a clue what was going on, but there was one thought niggling at the back of her mind, which she could now confirm as true. This Harry Potter was definitely different to the one she used to know.


A/N: Wow! Thank you for all the favs, follows, and reviews. The last chapter more than doubled the total from the other four combined! It's great to know so many people are enjoying what I've written.

A/N: Chapter seven is ready and will be released around this time next week. Yes I'm a bastard.

A/N: I've also started another story, which won't take away resources from this one, so don't worry :) 'The Master of Death IS The-Boy-Who-Lived: Child Hero for Hire'. Check it out and let me know if you like the concept.