A/N: AHHHH! I'm SO sorry this took so long to update! I have an excuse though- first I had volleyball try outs (which start at 7:45am and end at 6pm, with a short break in the middle… but I made the team so it's okay!) and then school started. I'm taking an art class which requires a lot of out-of-school work and that, coupled with volleyball and normal homework, leaves me barely any time to have a life of my own. I also had massive writer's block, so that was part of it. This chapter is a filler and I kind of really hate it… but it had to be done.

The beta'd version of this will be posted when I get it back from my awesome beta, MysticSilverAngel.

Also, thanks to all of the reviewers. You guys rock! I seriously wouldn't have gotten the inspiration to write this crappy fic if it weren't for you guys!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter… but Tom Riddle does. Heh.

Chapter 6:

The fire flickered in the common room, casting weak shadows onto the grey stone walls. Harry sat staring into the dimming fire alone. His handsome face was fixed in a tiny frown and he pensively chewed on his bottom lip.

It seemed to Harry that everything had been happening to fast and he didn't know what to do. Barely two weeks ago, he'd been at his hellhole of a house, and now? Now, he was living in a castle with a horde of known murderers.

Wonderful.

What horrified Harry more, though, was the fact that he didn't hate it. At the beginning, he thought he would. But slowly, his resolve to hate had weakened and now it seemed barely existent. He was friends with Draco, after all. And his attraction to the Dark Lord- well, Harry didn't want to even think about to consequences of that. But even he could admit that there was something there, and he wasn't entirely sure that it was strictly one-sided either. He'd thought it had been just a fluke on that day in archery class a week ago- but then, the touches and stares had increased and he'd started to notice.

Harry was also not as thick as Hermione and Draco might want him to be. He'd noticed the little glances they often shared over his shoulder. He'd also noticed that Hermione had been disappearing to who knew where at random hours of the day- incidentally, Harry also had trouble locating Draco during these times. The only thing that surprised Harry about this was that he'd thought Draco was gay. So much for that theory, then.

Harry jolted when he heard a small noise come from the opposite end of the room, and looked over to see that Ron was making is way through the portrait.

"Hey, Ron." Harry greeted. He wasn't too optimistic that Ron would reply- the redhead was still angry with Harry and Hermione.

Ron made a small noise in the back of his throat and kept walking. Harry sighed- so that meant Ron was still angry. He turned back to the fire and away from Ron, choosing to ignore him instead of provoking him. He was surprised when, instead of heading up to the dorms, Ron plopped down onto the sofa next to him.

"Hey, Harry." The redhead's voice was quiet and a bit timid, catching Harry off guard for a moment.

"How have you been?" Harry's question could have been used to greet a stranger instead of a good friend. That fact escaped neither Ron nor Harry and it strained the atmosphere in the room.

"I've been okay. And you?"

"The same." After Harry's answer, the room delved into silence. Then, after a moment:

"Listen, Harry… I'm sorry for all that stuff I said." Ron's fingers twisted in a corner of his shirt, betraying his nervousness.

"It's fine. I'm not really the one you should be apologizing to, though- you hurt Hermione pretty badly, I'd say." It was Harry's way of making peace in the trio. Even he could admit that nothing seemed the same without Ron there.

"Yeah… yeah, I know. I just got so mad, you know? It was such a shock. I didn't mean what I said to her." His hands stopped toying with the shirttail; now, they lay still in his lap.

"It was a shock to all of us. But hey- it's not so bad to live with them. Not as bad as you'd think, anyway." Ah, ever the optimist.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. No one's given me any trouble so far." And then, Harry and Ron were 'Harry and Ron' again. Harry scooted closer to Ron on the couch and gave him a one-armed hug- because a hug with two arms just didn't seem manly enough to either of them.

They both stared into the fire for a moment, before Ron stood. "Well, I'm gonna head off to bed now." He yawned, stretching his long arms.

"Yeah, me too."

HPTRHPTRHPTRHPTRHPTR

Tom Riddle sat motionless in a large armchair. He was in Dumbledore's office; he had been called there earlier this morning, but when he arrived, the old man was nowhere to be found.

Tom's eyes glazed over slightly as he stared at the wall opposite him, lost in thought. He leaned his chin on his elbow lazily and sucked in a deep, bored breath.

Though the Dark Lord appeared calm and collected on the outside, his head was bombarded with stray thoughts.

More specifically, stray thoughts concerning that damnable Potter boy. He just couldn't get the boy out of his head!

The Dark Lord had tried everything in the beginning to get the boy to leave his thoughts. He'd tried ignoring the boy- that hadn't worked. He'd tried working out his frustration through physical exertion- that hadn't worked, either. So, the Dark Lord had decided to give up on avoiding the Potter boy; it was more trouble than it was worth, really.

And, honestly, was his attraction to the Potter boy all that bad? The Dark Lord himself was nineteen again- thanks to a body-restoration ritual that his loyal followers had so generously preformed. The Potter boy was- what- sixteen? The difference wasn't too bad.

No, the only thing that disturbed the Dark Lord was the reason for his attraction. He just couldn't figure it out! He'd never been attracted to the boy before- let alone any other male! He wasn't gay. He wasn't!

So why the attraction for Pott- Harry? Tom just couldn't figure it out.

So, there he sat in Dumbledore's office, waiting for the old coot to finally appear. The man had scheduled this appointment in the first place- he should at least have bothered to be here on time!

Tom surveyed the Headmaster's office with mild interest. His eyes swept over the aged wooden desk and the tables filled with whirling silver trinkets, over the red phoenix on its perch, over the black cabinet that held the penseive.

Wait-

The penseive.

Tom stared at it for a few moments, recalling the last time he'd seen anything from its murky depths; he had been sitting here, in this very chair, watching the old fraud of a Divination teacher deliver the prophecy.

Surely the prophecy couldn't have anything to do with his attraction towards the Potter boy.

Right?

Right?

Tom sat up abruptly and chewed his lip in concentration, trying desperately to recall the exact wording of the prophecy.

… The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…

What did the old bat mean? I'll mark him as my equal? Surely she didn't mean that…

The Dark Lord paled.

But what if she did mean that? I'll mark him as my equal- what, am I going to marry him or something?

Tom snorted. Even if he did end up with Potter by some miracle, he'd never get married. Ever.

Just as Tom breathed a short sigh of relief, a small click sounded through the office. Dumbledore waltzed into the room jauntily, as if he wasn't thirty minutes late. "Hello, my boy!"

Tom nodded in greeting and remained seated, watching as the old man made his way behind his desk. "Is there a reason I was summed here, sir?" Tom's question was laced with sarcasm.

"Yes, yes! Onto business as usual, I see! Would you like a lemon drop?"

Tom shook his head. "Ah, well. Anyway, Mr. Riddle. I've asked you here to discuss a very important matter. Though both sections of the resistance- the Order and the Death Eaters- are training and getting along relatively well, There is a problem."

Tom raised his eyebrows in interest. "And what would that problem be?"

"Well… to put it bluntly, there is no way that we would be able to fight a battle as we are now. I think that the two sides need to be united under one leader- almost like a muggle General. We can't just go barreling into a fight without knowing what we're doing first." The Headmaster said.

"I thought that you and I were the leaders?" Tom man raked a hand tiredly through his ebony locks.

"We are. But I think it would be more effective if just one of us actually leads them all into battle. The other will still have his say, of course. This will be more for show than anything else; our men need to feel like they are united under a common leader to fight a common goal. Thus far, it seems that their lack of fighting has been merely obedience, rather than their desire to win this war." The old man had made a good point, and Tom agreed. The Dark Lord didn't really care, either way- he knew that in the end, his Death Eaters would follow his commands if the need arose.

The Headmaster's next words, though, shocked the Dark Lord. "I think that the leader should be you, my boy." Dumbledore's old blue eyes sparkled. "As much as I hate to admit it, I don't think that I could lead them all. Your men wouldn't listen to me."

And it was true. Tom's men would react violently if they found out that they would be under Dumbledore's rule- they both knew it.

"And what about the Order?" Tom's deep baritone floated into the office.

"The Order will listen to you. If not of our respect for me, then perhaps out of fear." The old voice held a laughing quality to it, as if Albus found it amusing that legions of men feared his former pupil.

"Alright, then. I'll do it." And so, the deal was sealed. Tom would lead the resistance from now on. He'd be the stoic commander that the men desperately needed. His heart pounded furiously.

A/N: Well, there it is. Don't kill me for making it so crappy. Now, I'm going to do some shameless advertising. I've posted two new one- shots and I'd greatly appreciate it if you guys would check them out. The first is called Hero(in), and it's HP/SS. The second is called Blue Monday, which is HP/DM. I hope you guys read/enjoy them.