FicWad

April 20th, 1997

They had only been back at Hogwarts for a little while before they traveled to the Pilazzo Reale at Milan again. In that time Harry and Riddle had run a few interesting experiments to get the scope of the problem that they were working with and Riddle had correlated a few notes to nail down a possible course of attack.

But all of that was for another time.

"Your Grace," Riddle said, addressing the Emperor, "the burning time has come."

Riddle was dangling a glass of wine from his fingers, gloved now that the curse had spread past his sleeves. He hadn't drunk from the glass once and, choosing to err on the side of caution, Harry had followed his example.

Harry didn't know if he had the stomach for wine anyway. He certainly didn't back home.

Instead he looked around the room. It appeared to be more a party than a war council. Perhaps it was. There were most of the people that he recognized from his first visit to the Palazzo, but there were many more besides and Riddle had waited to bring up the topic until they had found a quiet place to talk.

Under other circumstances, a silencio would have been in order, but wands were no longer permitted in the Emperor's presence.

"I have dropped information for our agents on the other side of the border, as protocol demands. They are ready."

"You're not only talking about replying to Behemoth, though," the Emperor said. "I appreciate your desire to see Behemoth crushed. I remember the Imperial Father well, and it pains me to see his legacy shattered into pieces, but against that I must weigh the cost. What you propose could turn this into a world war."

Ziz wasn't unified like the other two fragments were, Harry remembered. Some of its pieces were no bigger than city-states, and they were held together in an uneasy amicability born more out of not being Behemoth or Leviathan and having no desire to change that, than out of shared heritage or leadership. Its so-called Senators sounded to Harry more like warlords, though, and to bring the war to any one of them might set the others like sharks in bloodied water.

"With all due respect, Your Grace, there is more to this than I have said to you already." Riddle looked around the room and dropped his voice even lower. "If you would?"

With a jab of his wand silence fell around them. Harry could neither hear them nor see their lips move, but he could see the Emperor's face turn somber and ashen.

"Not even the House of Windsor?" he heard the Emperor ask after the field went down.

"Her Majesty is wise, but she is a Muggle. Occlumency can only go so far."

"Another reason to make a transition of power," the Emperor murmured.

"All in good time, my Emperor."

April 21st, 1997

Harry set his pen down. "Tonks…"

"Eh?"

"Why do you work for Riddle?"

Tonks snorted. "I gotta say, it's weird hearing that come out of the mouth it is."

"You aren't answering my question."

She leaned back in her chair and balanced by propping her legs up on the table. "He's… He's the Headmaster. He's our Headmaster. Mine and Harry's and… He's never done wrong by us."

"But why?" Harry looked down at the parchment in front of him as if the equations might hold the answer. "I mean…" He sighed. "Did he tell you about his counterpart where I come from?"

"A bit, he did. He said it was bad."

"Dark lord."

"Shite."

"And it's so strange, because I can… I can see parts of that in him. And there are these other parts that are missing. I can…" He shook his head. "He was a berserker when he was on the battlefield. He loved the killing, I'm certain of it. But I'm just as certain that he had the fear of Merlin put into him when I was almost hit by the curse he's got on him now."

"He isn't nice," Tonks said. "I think that you're getting this a little mixed up." She frowned. "I don't think Harry knows. Mine, I mean. I don't think she really gets it, and I haven't told her yet. He's like Slughorn on a diet and a chocolate fetish. He collects us. Anyone with talent. I'm a metamorphmagus, Harry's got the prophecy, Mina Lima's on retainer for whenever Riddle needs some linguistic work done. You get the picture."

"For what? World domination? I mean, I can't figure out what he's after."

Tonks snorted, then looked thoughtful. "You got Machiavelli in your universe, right?" After he nodded she continued. "You know that saying, about it being better to be feared than loved? I think the Headmaster decided it was the other way around."

Harry considered this. "And what do you think?"

"He takes care of us. That's why he likes Hufflepuff most of all. We can be smart for him like a Ravenclaw. We can be brave for him like a Gryffindor. We can be cunning for him like his own House. And where we can't be quite as good as good as those houses, we can make up the difference with something else. Because we're Hufflepuffs and the language that we speak isn't arrogance or wit or plots or any of that stuff.

"You see, Harry," she continued, "he does right by things. Ravenclaws give knowledge for knowledge. Gryffindors reward courage with courage. And Hufflepuffs return loyalty for loyalty."

"But not friendship."

"He doesn't have friends," Tonks said. "I think I'm the closest thing he's got."

That wasn't what Harry had expected to hear.

"I call him Tom," she explained. "Even the Gryffindors don't have the courage to do that. We can go back and forth and he can pretend that there's somebody on his level because I'm not in fear and I'm not in awe."

"Only pretend?"

Tonks sighed. "I'm not on his level. It's just that I don't care."

"And that isn't good enough?"

"Not for him it isn't. I can do what I do because he lets me."

Someone knocked on the door.

"You ain't wanted," Tonks said, but the door opened anyway.

"I never should have let you keep that boorish tongue of yours," Riddle remarked.

"Hey, now how was I supposed to know it was you? How often do you knock? Come on, now. And me and Harry, we were having a serious heartfelt confession to each other. Undying love and everything, the works."

"It must have been riveting," Riddle said. "Harry, you're not allowed to sleep with her until you can do it in your own body. This one you're in is off-limits."

"Hey wait what?" Harry choked. "I-I already have a girlfriend."

"Well damn, lead a girl along why don't you?" Tonks' eyes gleamed. Literally gleamed. The tricks of a metamorphmagus were never exhausted, it seemed. "I'll just have to have a word with your… Who's this again?"

"Ginny Weasley."

"Well I don't think we've got one a' those here. Fresh out of 'em. Anyway, sir, what were you wanting to get on about?"

Riddle offered a second to the silence before he spoke. "I've returned from Milan."

"Well yeah. Should I have said wotcher, Tom— you know, just really hammered in that I got it that you're home again?"

He raised a hand and Tonks quieted immediately. "Harry," he said.

"Yes?"

"Do you remember your promise to help me to secure the Elder Wand?"

Harry nodded.

"It is soon time to retrieve it. If you do not go, I will not hold you in violation of our agreement. But if you do go, I will expect you to follow my every order. You will go forward when I say it, retreat when I call for it, and stand your ground against every dark wizard if that is my command. You will not put your current body in any more danger than you have to. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"And are these terms acceptable?"

"Yes."

"Then it is settled." Riddle smiled, just barely, but enough to give a hint of what Harry had seen in Belgium. "We are going to war."

"I'll send the invitations," Tonks offered.