Hello everyone! I'm back! All right, first, I sincerely apologize for the long wait. But what happened was that I had been feeling uncertain about this story, and then a few reviews made me take a decision...to rewrite the story. I've been making changes during the past weeks, and here's the version that met my standards. I hope this edited version makes you happier! Also, I hope it clears up some things that were a bit unclear in the original.

I also changed the title and the summary as you probably noticed. I really hope you like these altered chapters!

Please leave reviews after you read! I'd so like to know your thoughts on the changes...

The sun shone down on the expanse of ancient cobblestones that made up the courtyard of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The equally ancient fountain in the centre acted almost like a giant sundial, its short shadow indicating that it was close to noon.

This courtyard was a favorite spot of many students, however, right now, it was empty save for a single figure strolling in the shade of the corners of the yard with an armful of books.

It was a boy. But this was no ordinary boy.

Midnight black hair sat atop his head in a messy nest. Creamy, seemingly unmarred, skin, and, like all teenagers at his point, he was still growing into his body. Black wire rimmed spectacles were perched on his nose. But it was the eyes behind the glasses that caught one's attention.

Green eyes. Extremely extraordinary green eyes. They were the exact color of the well known and well feared Killing Curse, the very same one that had taken the lives of his parents as well as countless others.

Behind the strands of inky black hair that fell on his forehead, above his right eyebrow, was something far more extraordinary and sinister. It was one of the biggest things that set him apart from his peers.

A lightning bolt shaped scar, the result of a rebounded Killing Curse thirteen years ago was how most people knew that this boy was the Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry Potter smiled to himself as he leisurely made his way towards the Gryffindor tower. Life was, for once, looking good. Sirius, his godfather, was free. On the run, but free. He had also been sent a brand new Firebolt – and if Ron's ecstasy was anything to go by, it was one of the leading brooms of the wizarding world.

He could hardly believe that this was happening to him. It was only a few months ago that he'd walked out on his Muggle guardians, discovered that the bloodthirsty mass murderer who had escaped Azkaban was his godfather, and learned the circumstances of his parents' death.

But everything had twisted out of control when a new factor had been introduced to the equation, a factor that had changed everything. His godfather had been proved innocent, his DADA professor Lupin had not only turned out to be an acquaintance of his parents, but a werewolf who had been best friends with James and Lily Potter and Sirius Black, and another classmate – Peter Pettigrew.

Pettigrew, a timid hero–worshipping Gryffindor, had turned over to the dark side. Everybody thought that Sirius, after betraying Lily and James to Voldemort, had killed Peter along with a dozen Muggles in a street on the night that Harry's parents died. Harry had been stunned when the truth had finally been revealed that fateful night in the Shrieking Shack by Sirius, and his DADA professor Remus Lupin. Pettigrew had been appointed the Potters' Secret Keeper, and he had led Voldemort straight to them. When Sirius had realized that their so called friend had betrayed them, he had faced Peter in a fury. Peter had blown up the street, killing the Muggles, transformed into his Animagus – a rat – and cut off a finger to fake his own death before escaping. Sirius was left, branded as a traitor, blamed for the Muggles' and the Potters' deaths, and flung into Azkaban.

Harry admired him though. Sirius had survived twelve years in the gloomy prison, a prison guarded by Dementors, and escaped with his sanity intact, though he had been slightly out of it when Harry first saw him. Not that he blamed Sirius. Sharing living space with dementors could do that to a person.

Now, even though Peter had escaped, Sirius was free of that hell.

And that thought brought back a smile to Harry's face.

It wasn't the only reason he was smiling. Hagrid's beloved hippogriff, Buckbeak, had been saved from execution. And Remus Lupin had been persuaded by Dumbledore to remain for the rest of the year as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Best of all, he was off to spend a free period with Ron. The thought made him pick up his pace, and he'd just turned the corner when his day – and life – went to complete and utter hell.

.

He slammed hard into someone coming from the opposite side. His books flew out of his hands, and he fell to the floor with the force of the collision. "Ow…sorry…." He murmured, adjusting his glasses. He looked up….. into a pair of ice blue eyes.

Harry gasped in shock, reeling back though he was still sprawled on the floor. He closed his eyes, and reopened them, only to see the flashing orbs again. This time he observed the neat and glossy dark hair, the pale skin, the straight nose, the proud cheekbones, the confident mouth twisted in a smirk.

.

"Tom Riddle?"

.

The world froze.

.

Harry couldn't believe his eyes. In front of him was Tom Marvolo Riddle, in the flesh!

He looked pretty much the same as he had in the Chamber of Secrets.

Tom smiled – a cold calculating tugging of lips – and gracefully crouched in front of Harry. "Allow me to be of assistance, Harry Potter." He began gathering everything Harry had dropped. When he was done, he turned to Harry and offered a hand.

Feeling dizzy, Harry took the offered hand. Pulling him up smoothly, Tom smirked again. "It was a pleasure to meet you again, Harry." Then he turned on his heel and walked away.

Looking after the disappearing back of the young Dark Lord, Harry faintly wondered why he'd been feeling so happy earlier.

Also, if he'd just dreamed up the whole thing.

.

Severus Snape, as Potions Master of Hogwarts, a questionable individual of the war, and the most feared teacher of the school, had lived through so many things, one would be amazed to find him still breathing and alive.

Now, as he stood in the shadows of the courtyard, watching as a tall, stunningly handsome Slytherin boy helped the Boy Who Lived off the floor, he felt like he was getting himself into something that was beyond his comprehension. He shook himself out of his reverie to see the taller of the two boys stride away, leaving Potter gaping after him.

Snape sighed and glided over to the shocked Potter and drawled, "Close your mouth, Potter, you're catching flies."

Potter turned stunned green eyes onto him. "Professor? Professor…. That was…that was…– "

"The Headmaster wants to see you, Potter. Come with me, and stop gawking – it's most unbecoming."

"But Professor!"

"Not here, you idiotic boy!" Snape hissed. Thankfully, that seemed to be enough to make Potter gather his wits and follow him silently.

Merlin help me out of this mess…

.

The walk to Professor Dumbledore's office was silent, but Harry's mind was spinning. Tom Riddle, the teenaged version of Lord Voldemort, was at Hogwarts! It was him, wasn't it? Didn't Dumbledore know? What was going on? Why hadn't he killed him right then and there? Perhaps…perhaps it was somebody who looked like Riddle? But – but then why all this fuss? And how did he know him? Wait, it was Tom Riddle all right! He wouldn't mistake him…

Voldemort! No! Voldemort was back!

Harry took a deep breath and tried to calm his hammering heart. I'm overreacting, he told himself. That wasn't Tom Riddle – I AM LORD VOLDEMORT floating before him in fiery letters – no! It wasn't Tom Riddle. He was dreaming. He was just conjuring up stuff out of his nightmares to keep him terrified now that there wasn't any mass murderer after him to do it.

Right.

Don't be an idiot. As if Voldemort would help him off the floor or be nice. Voldemort wasn't back. Voldemort wasn't back. Voldemort wasn't back. Voldemort was somewhere far far away, like the Bahamas. Or the moon.

Then why was his scar burning?

No! Relax Harry! There's an explanation, there must be one. It was an amazingly polite normal Slytherin he had bumped into. And Snape was taking him to Dumbledore because…because…maybe he wanted Harry to be expelled…maybe he was still raging over being attacked at the Shrieking Shack…

…

Snape and Harry reached the stone gargoyle that guarded the stairs leading to Dumbledore's office. "Chocolate frog," Snape bit out, probably annoyed with the humiliating password. At least it wasn't as embarrassing as some other passwords that the headmaster was capable of coming up with. Oh well. It was probably humiliating for Snape because he was a Feared Professor. Not that Harry had laughed or anything when the potions master had stated the name of a candy! Besides…oh, he was rambling. Mental rambling.

Harry shook himself out of it, not wanting to admit even to himself that he was anxious, so anxious that his fingers kept clenching in his robes for a want of something to do.

The stairs moved into view, and Snape gestured him to go first.

The Headmaster was seated behind his desk, poring over a bunch of letters. His eyes twinkled when he caught sight of Harry and Snape.

"Ah, Harry, and Severus, do come in. It's been some time. Lemon drop?"

They both shook their heads. Dumbledore shrugged and popped one into his mouth. "Tea?"

Snape visibly bristled. "No, Headmaster, that will not be necessary. Potter just ran into somebody that finally managed to shock him into silence." The sneer he wore plainly claimed that he thought this was a particularly difficult task.

Dumbledore straightened, and removed his half–moon spectacles. "I must admit, I was not looking forward to this particular conversation."

Harry blinked. "Wait… you mean…so that was… Was that actually Tom Riddle? The real–"

"Lord Voldemort? Yes, Harry that was him, although, he has changed a good deal, as you no doubt saw."

Harry gaped at the Headmaster, his head spinning. He sank into the closest chair, feeling as if he'd stepped into some kind of alternate universe. "Sir, are you actually saying that Voldemort transformed himself into a teenager, and is now attending Hogwarts? As Tom Riddle?" He reflected on how bizarre that sounded.

"Yes! You're absolutely correct! That's exactly what has happened, my dear boy! Five points to Gryffindor!" A second of silence, then –

"Kidding! Ha! Took you in, didn't I? That was a very well staged joke! Ha ha! Thought you needed something to cheer you up, my boy! Severus here is a marvelous actor, don't you think? Bet he and the Slytherin boy I hired scared the snitch–embroidered boxers off you! Oh, I should certainly give him that pay raise he's been nagging me about ever since he took the post…!"

That was what Harry expected would happen, which his imagination worked on instantly. If the world was normal.

What actually happened…

"It's not that simple, Harry, but, simply put, that is the case, yes." Dumbledore nodded.

The calm way in which the Headmaster said it was what set Harry off.

His face turned white with fury. "Simply put? You're letting a murderer roam the halls of the school? What are you thinking? This is Voldemort we're talking about! Professor, this could be a ploy – or anything, and you just let him in?!" He was shaking, and he could vaguely make out the objects lining the shelves of the office shaking with him.

He didn't give a damn.

Hogwarts was his home! And now, the man who sought to kill him since he was just an infant…was here… He was so upset that he himself couldn't make sense of the thoughts rushing around in his head.

A sudden thought struck him and he whipped out his wand. Was Dumbledore bewitched? Was it even the real Dumbledore?

"Potter, that's enough," Snape broke in. He had evidently understood where his train of thoughts was taking him. "I understand that this must be too much for your tiny brain to comprehend, but put your wand away! I'm sure that the Headmaster will explain this…unfortunate happening once you calm down!"

"Calm down?! How can you expect me to calm down when the man who murdered my parents is walking around freely?!" Harry hissed heatedly.

Snape's face looked even more pinched. He turned to the Headmaster. "Headmaster, perhaps Potter needs to know the truth. We will have nothing but chaos in our hands if he is left unchecked."

Dumbledore stroked his great white beard. "I'm not convinced, Severus. After all, Harry already has enough to worry about, what with the fiasco with Sirius Black only just over…"

"Black has escaped, as you very well know!" Snape growled.

"Ah yes, unfortunate that," Dumbledore responded, his eyes twinkling down at Harry.

Harry couldn't even grin back, the problem at hand had shaken him so much. He took a deep breath and attempted to look as composed as possible. "Professor Dumbledore, what's going on?"

"Sit down, please, Severus." The grim potions master sat down as Dumbledore faced them with a serious look on his face. "Now, before I say anything, Harry, I want you to swear to me that you will not repeat what I am about to say to anyone. Not even to your friends."

Harry paused, then nodded. He didn't want to put his friends in danger anyway by dragging them into a matter involving Voldemort.

Seemingly satisfied, Dumbledore popped another lemon drop into his mouth. "Lord Voldemort has returned, and is very much alive, as you probably saw. How this came about, though, I cannot tell you. The point is, he has regained his body, his younger body, and most of his sanity. He is stronger than he was when you met him in your first year."

"When he was possessing Quirrel?" asked Harry.

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Correct. However, his younger body doesn't mean that his magic has depleted. He is strong, no doubt of that, and we must be careful."

Harry remembered the icy smile that had radiated confidence. You can say that again. "But sir, what is he doing in Hogwarts?" He was desperate for answers – a testament to his rising anxiety.

Dumbledore exchanged glances with Snape before turning to Harry again. "That is the most important – and curious – part. Earlier this term, Tom paid me a visit with a rather surprising proposal. He offered to keep his Death Eaters from attacking Hogwarts if I allowed him to attend Hogwarts as Tom Riddle."

"What? Why would he want that?" Harry asked, thinking fast. "Unless, he's trying to get closer to you … to try to harm you, sir?"

Snape entered the conversation smoothly. "The Headmaster has already pondered that possibility, Potter. Rest assured that we have taken the necessary safety precautions, however, the same cannot be said for your life."

Harry turned to Snape sharply, "Me? What do you mean?"

"He means, Lord Voldemort might be looking for an opportunity to harm you… by staying in Hogwarts, he is getting countless opportunities to hurt you, my boy. Nevertheless…" he trailed off delicately, "Both Professor Snape and I will be looking out for you, so you need not be scared."

Harry's jaw dropped. "Of course," he said sarcastically, "nothing to worry about. It's only Voldemort after all."

Next to him, Snape near–jerked. Dumbledore looked pained. "Harry, my boy, I do realize that Tom has an ulterior motive to come to Hogwarts; this is merely a small step, a tiny piece of the bigger picture. But–"

"But you have no idea what the bigger picture is, so you're going along with Voldemort's plan, to keep an eye on him when he acts, so to speak." Harry finished.

Dumbledore nodded again. "Quite right, well thought out, Harry."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "There's more, isn't there?" He outwardly kept himself collected, revealing nothing of the storm brewing within his mind.

"That won't be necessary for you to know, Harry. Meanwhile, I want you to be very careful around him, but at the same time, I'd like you to…." He hesitated again most uncharacteristically, his eyes darting to Severus and back, "…get to know him."

Harry stared back in horror. "…Get to know him…? As in… spend time with him?" Of course, he had no doubt that Voldemort – Tom Riddle – would approach him, but to actively seek him out…?

"Precisely." Dumbledore looked slightly guilty. "I know this must be a lot to ask of you, considering who he is, Harry, but it is vital that we keep up with Tom's steps, his plans. Befriend him, if you can, and see if you can pick up any hint of what he's up to."

"Spy on him, you mean?"

Snape sighed long-sufferingly. "Mr. Potter, surely you aren't as mentally deficient as all that?"

Harry looked at Snape and then Dumbledore piercingly. "With all due respect, professor, I don't believe I can do that without there being some form of uproar, seeing that the House rivalry is still quite prominent. Besides," here he paused to take a deep breath to cover up the tiny break in his voice, "Have you forgotten it was he who murdered my parents in cold blood? Who has tried to kill me as well? I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I cannot with a level head acquiesce to your request."

He was aware of Snape's scrutinizing stare boring holes into the side of his face, but resolutely kept his eyes forward. Thank the Founders he had a better grip on his self–control now.

"Harry…"

.

"I must admit, that was certainly not the reaction I was expecting from you, Harry." Harry and Snape shot to their feet and whipped around to see the one who had drawled out the condescending words. Tom Riddle was leaning against the doorway. A smirk curled the corner of his lips, and his eyes shone with barely concealed sinister glee.

Harry got his first good look at the newly returned Dark Lord.

The first thing he noticed, or rather felt, was the power. It coiled and uncoiled, like a venomous serpent, alluring, mysterious, enticing. It beckoned people closer, and then, it would strike, flaring out even more in all its terrible, dark glory.

Voldemort's magic called out to him, like a parent welcoming a child home in the sunset, a friend greeting a friend after years of separation, a – dare he say it – lover long lost embracing him after years of solitude…

.

Everything, everyone, time itself – froze.

.

The world fell away, leaving only Voldemort and Harry suspended in this moment in time…

Ice blue locked with emerald green.

.

A rush of light and dark magic swept around them both, as Harry's own magic expanded to meet Voldemort's welcoming one. Both auras flared up like an inferno, combining, pulling each other into themselves, binding binding binding…

They were immersed in each other, their senses snatching at anything and everything of the other…

Dark crimson bled into the Dark Lord's previously ice blue irises. His gaze was heavy, just like the air around them which sparked with the magical density.

For the first time in his life, Harry's scar thrummed pleasantly.

The fate of the wizarding world was decided, and that lightning bolt shaped scar bore its own weight on the ultimate decision made by its bearer.

Harry was not aware of the physical realm at all, he was so intensely focused on his enemy.

But was he? Was Lord Voldemort the enemy anymore?

Harry caught himself there. Was that even a doubt, let alone a question?

But his traitorous mind refused to remain unruffled by sticking to his previously drawn conclusions.

His magic feels different…his mind whispered. Less oppressive. Less damning.

He feels different.

He…has changed.

Try as he might, Harry could not deny it. Voldemort was different, so far from the disfigured face at the back of a deceptively meek professor's head, which had haunted his dreams for months afterwards.

He seemed fuller.

Of course, having a body of his own might help that impression too.

But then there was the other undeniable matter of Voldemort's magic.

It no longer felt threatening. Harry remembered himself as a tiny eleven year old, valiantly standing tall under the withering gaze of the dark wizard, under his terrifying aura, though he was quaking on the inside, wanting to – or fearing that he might – fall to his knees.

This aura bore no similarity to that. To Harry, it had almost, for a split second, felt familiar and comforting. He could not deny this…that as he met the Dark Lord's crimson gaze, he briefly felt as though they were kin…

Their gazes remained unbroken. Harry's own eyes glittered as he unflinchingly looked back. He felt…breathless and free, and something inside him longed to glide over to the dark wizard, to revel in his darkness, to curl deep within his ebony and ruby colours, to –

Voldemort drew some of his magic back into him, and Harry immediately snapped himself out of it, managing not to follow the allure. He too drew his own aura back in, resolutely not reacting to the unnerving gleam in Voldemort's eyes…

Voldemort. Lord Voldemort. Harry considered it deeply. Voldemort. Riddle. Yes, Tom Riddle. It suited him much better than Voldemort.

Harry took a deep breath, allowing his demeanor to cool. It wouldn't do to let his temper get out of control. This had to be tackled with Slytherin talents, not Gryffindor forwardness.

Let it play out then.

The two wizards broke their incessant eye contact. With it broke up the magical atmosphere surrounding them.

Riddle… Riddle inclined his head very slightly towards Harry. His irises faded back into the ice blue shade. "Harry."

Not to be outdone, Harry mimicked him. "Riddle."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. It was then that Harry noticed that he and Riddle were practically in each other's personal space – and to his annoyance, Harry came only up to just past the other's chin!

He casually stepped away from Riddle.

Dumbledore looked between the two as they ended the contact, and his eyes twinkled in a way that made Harry feel slightly wary.

"Please take a seat, gentlemen," the Headmaster gestured, watching as they complied.

Harry cast a subtle glance towards Riddle who was seated between him and Snape – who by the way looked like he'd swallowed all of Dumbledore's lemon drops in one go. Also, beneath that, he saw the potions master was feeling a little bit stunned.

"I see you've already met, Harry, Tom," Dumbledore began, smiling as if it wasn't the Dark Lord sitting in his office.

When he was met with nothing but a disdainful look, he smiled even brighter. "Excellent!" he clapped his hands. Harry's lips twitched despite himself. Dumbledore's happy attitude must be irritating Riddle to no end.

"Something you find funny, Harry?" Riddle suddenly hissed quietly.

"No, nothing. Just…" Another image popped unbidden into his mind, and he suppressed a laugh with difficulty.

"You have roused my curiosity now, Harry. Tell me."

Harry straightened his face. "Just wondering…what if Dumbledore offers you one of his lemon drops?"

Riddle's expression of distaste said it all.

Then he realized that Snape and Dumbledore had fallen silent, and looked up to see both of them peering at him curiously. It hit him then that he'd been speaking in Parseltounge, and they hadn't understood a single thing.

"Anything you would like to share, my boys?"Dumbledore asked, his eyes somehow seeming brighter.

Tom broke his gaze at Harry and looked at the Headmaster instead. "Nothing that concerns you, Dumbledore. It was a small….private discussion between Harry and myself."

Before Harry could flush and deny it hotly, he caught himself. That had been another of Riddle's baits.

Instead of looking snubbed, Dumbledore looked…cheerful. "Well, Tom, assuming you heard at least some of our conversation earlier, perhaps you would like to reveal what it is you actually wish to achieve here at Hogwarts?"

"I find myself missing my old school, Dumbledore. Surely you understand what Hogwarts is to me." Riddle replied. Harry barely prevented a snort. Sure, that was why he kept attacking innocent students at Hogwarts.

"I know that you've always looked to Hogwarts as your home, my boy, but I think that time is long past now." Harry's eyes widened. It was then he realized that he knew practically nothing about Riddle's – Voldemort's past. Oh well, one more thing to uncover.

"You are a cunning old man, Albus Dumbledore," Riddle inclined his head at the Headmaster. "You will not believe my reasons, yet you are willing to go along with this act since you have no alternative."

"I would not say that…"

"Yet it is true," Riddle's voice rang throughout the office, "I am offering you a way to get what I want without harming anyone, although I can do this the hard way if you refuse."

"All right," Harry quickly interjected. "So the Headmaster has the advantage of ensuring the safety of Hogwarts, and you have the advantage of…well, whatever it is. Can we agree that it's beneficial all round and move on?"

Dumbledore smiled at him before returning to the conversation. "Now, I believe Severus has made arrangements for you, Tom, is that right, Severus?"

"Um, what arrangements?" Harry interrupted.

Riddle turned to him with a goading grin. "Allow me to introduce myself. Tom Marvolo Riddle, previously home-schooled student."

"Home-schooled? Or never mind." Harry leaned back and frowned. "Which year are you in?"

Dumbledore answered that question. "Third year, same as you, Harry." Harry wondered if that was some sort of hint to trail Riddle since they were in the same year.

"Slytherin…" Harry thought out loud, glancing at Riddle's green and silver crest. "Does anyone else know who he is? I mean, that he's Lord Voldemort posing as a student?"

"None besides the headmaster, Severus, and you." Riddle replied. "And I shall presume it will remain that way."

"So…you'll be staying in the dungeons?" At Riddle's short nod, Harry's eyebrows rose. He couldn't even imagine Riddle sleeping in a dormitory, or waiting for the bathroom to empty in the mornings…

"Appearances must be kept up, Potter." Snape had apparently again understood what he was thinking.

"I know. It just seemed bizarre for a moment." Harry retorted. Then another detail caught his attention. "Professor," he said, turning to Dumbledore, "How can you guarantee the students' safety?" He cast a glance towards Riddle when he felt his eyes piercing his cheek. "I suppose they can't just take your word for it…not binding enough." Riddle's eyes narrowed and flickered down to the Gryffindor crest on his robes. Harry snickered mentally. Yes, he was behaving more like a Slytherin than a Gryffindor, he supposed. If he tried to manipulate Harry, the Dark Lord was in for some nasty surprises.

Snape was staring at Harry too. He supposed that the Head of Slytherin House had picked up on his Slytherin vibes too…oops…

Fortunately Dumbledore came to his rescue by breaking the silence. "Tom has made a vow before he entered Hogwarts."

Harry noticed that Tom's jaw tightened at Dumbledore's use of his first name.

Dumbledore popped another lemon drop into his mouth, and said, "I'm afraid we must end this discussion soon, or you shall be late for class, Harry. And you as well, Severus."

Resisting the urge to drag a hand down his face, Harry got to his feet.

"My boy, my office door is always open should you need me." Dumbledore spoke, looking at Harry over the half-moon spectacles. Harry caught his gaze and understood that the Headmaster fully expected him to have problems with the newly enrolled Dark Lord. He nodded mutely and made his way to the door.

A hand caught his wrist, effectively spinning him around to face Riddle. "We shall meet again soon, Harry."

Harry met his eyes and gave the slightest nod. "I know. I'm counting on that." Riddle's grin widened at the answer. He released his wrist, and smirked.

Harry simply leveled a neutral look at him as he left the office with a silent Snape following.

.

At the bottom of the stairs, however, Snape stopped him. "Mr. Potter." Once he was sure he had Harry's full attention, he spoke unusually seriously. "This is no agreement, I hope you realize that. The Dark Lord is here because the headmaster cannot afford to turn down this proposal."

Harry nodded solemnly, but his mind was racing. If Snape was warning him of his volition, then things must be pretty grim. Harry wasn't an idiot. He knew Dumbledore hadn't given him the full story.

"I have no doubt he has a hidden agenda. Sir."

Snape nodded curtly. "Good. Now use some of that surprising intelligence you displayed up in the headmaster's office, and stay out of trouble." With a final sneer, Snape strode away with his robes billowing out behind him.

.

Harry made his own way a bit slower. He felt like the shock of the afternoon hadn't hit him properly yet. His mind whizzed.

When he finally reached the Gryffindor common room, he saw Ron and Hermione gathering their books. In a flash of disappointment, he realized that he'd missed his free period.

"Where were you, Harry?" Hermione asked him. "Ron and I did half of the Potions homework."

He shrugged. "Took a detour." And completely lost myself…

So! That was the first edited chapter! What are your thoughts? Please leave reviews. They are of great value to me.

I have edited the entire story, so I would like reviews for each and every chapter!

Thank you