FIC: Riddle's "Little" Problem ~ 11 ~ R ~ LVTR RWHG GWHP TRHP

[batsutousai]

Title: Riddle's "Little" Problem
Author: batsutousai
Beta: magickmaker17(Yes, I actually had a beta for once.... -.-)
Rating: hard R
Pairings: Voldemort/Tom Riddle(non-con), Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny, Tom/Harry
Warnings: Rape(non-graphic), physical violence, serious death threats, war, slash, het
Summary: An accident has separated Tom Riddle from Lord Voldemort. What will the Dark Lord do now that he's free from Tom's conscious? How much will Tom have to suffer at the hand of his other half? And what can Harry Potter do to help?

Disclaim Her: Like I'm going to give them a break. *snorts*

A/N: I'm seriously starting to lose interest in this fic. I'm going to finish it - I'm determined to, honestly - but, if it ends rather suddenly, you know why.

There was, originally, going to be a scene in here with Draco and Sev, but after spending three months not getting anywhere, I garbaged it. Any ideas you all might have on why those two might want to talk to Dumbles would be mucho loved.

-~/\~-

Wizarding Media - Friend or Foe?

-~\/~-


They sent a messenger - one last warning before all our chances were gone. Minerva met him at the gate and told him to go back to his idiot superiors; told him that, if the Ministry wanted a war over the freedom of one man, then they would have one.

I yelled at Minerva again when I found out what she'd done. The other professors hushed me - told me to sit back down and let Minerva do things her way. Dumbledore just smiled knowingly. I hate him.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron fully support Minerva. I can find no compassion in them.

As this is Hogwarts, of course, the whole student body knows about the pending war. The Head Boy and Girl stood at lunch and announced to us professors that the students would all work harder than ever so they could all fight against those who want to take me away from them.

Am I the only one who sees how foolish this is?

-~/\~-

I'm taking a nighttime walk around the grounds when Harry finds me. We continue on in silence for another pass around the perimeter of the castle. Harry speaks as we come upon the front steps again.

"I know you want peace, but it is simply not possible at this time."

I take a seat on the stairs with a heavy sigh. "I don't want any more people hurt. Enough were hurt in the first war, and again this time. I'm sick of being the cause behind all of these deaths, Harry."

Harry sits down next to me and looks sad. "I know."

We spend another couple moments in silence.

"Tom, when I graduate, would you like to move away from the reaches of the Ministry?"

"Like where?" I glance over curiously.

"I don't know. Some place where there aren't a lot of people. We're both pretty strong wizards, right?" I nod. "We could make a comfortable home for ourselves in the Arctic, then, or in a desert..."

"Or a floating island at sea," I agree. "And, of course, we would have to make sure there was a way for your friends to visit-"

"They're your friends too, you know."

"I know." I smile over at him. "A private Floo could work."

"Wouldn't the Ministry be able to use it, then?"

"Did I say it had to be legal?"

Harry snickers and leans back on the steps to stare up at the sky. "I kind of like the idea of a floating island, actually. It would make us extra hard to find."

"The spells would be challenging," I comment, leaning back against the steps as well.

"No problem for you, of course," Harry teases.

I smile. "For either of us. You're hardly wanting for magical strength, you know."

"Yeah, I know..." Harry sighs. "Can I stay in your room tonight?"

"Of course." I sit up, then look over at him, extending my hand. "Shall we?"

"Let's." Harry takes my hand and we stand together before moving back into the school.

-~/\~-

'MINISTRY OF MAGIC DECLARES WAR ON HOGWARTS!!'
'Is Hogwarts Professor Really You-Know-Who?'

I glare at the headline and hand the paper back to Minerva. "It's not worth reading, is it?"

"Not particularly." Minerva points her wand at the paper and it goes up in flames. "A lot of drivel from the Ministry's side. It looks like they didn't even try and get any of our sympathizers to comment." She picks up a letter with a seal I don't recognize on it and flicks it open.

"We have some outside the school?" I inquire curiously.

"Parents of the students will have their children's take on all this and will probably follow our side, as well as those of the Order," Slughorn comments before taking a sip of coffee. "I can almost guarantee that the Prophet is being bombarded with letters as we speak."

"They'll have to do an article representing our side soon," Shacklebolt agrees from Minerva's other side.

"It looks like someone's taken the initiative, actually," Minerva murmurs. "This letter is from Rita Skeeter. She's requesting that I ask you, Tom, if you'll allow her to interview you without any threats."

"I hate reporters," slips from my lips as I think about the offer.

"This could really help," Minerva points out.

"Could end the war before it starts," Slughorn adds.

I give Slughorn a knowing look - Slytherins always use others' weaknesses to their advantage - and he smirks. "I don't know..."

"I'm sure Rita would let you have Harry there," Minerva mentions in an off-handed manner.

I blink, then scowl at her. "You were a Gryffindor."

Minerva smirks in response and I can't help but liken it to Slughorn's. Or Severus'.

I glance down at my plate. "I'll talk to Harry about it."

"Fair enough." Minerva sets the letter from the reporter next to my plate. "Owl her back once you've decided."

I slip the letter off the table and into my pocket. "Okay."

Minerva returns to her mail.

-~/\~-

Harry did, in fact, manage to talk me into the interview after a few minutes. He also got a bottle of Calming Potion from Slughorn and made me drink it before Skeeter arrived.

My first reaction, upon seeing the woman, is to crane my neck to the side so I can properly see behind her.

"Tom?" Harry gives me a concerned look.

"I'm trying to see if she's brought her photographer with her," I admit with a smile.

Harry rolls his eyes, then offers Skeeter a tight smile. "Please have a seat, Rita."

Skeeter takes the seat that Harry had so thoughtfully added to my office earlier, then pulls out a purple Word-For-Word Quill and a pad of paper. "Well, then-"

"No Quick-Quotes Quill, Rita?" Harry inquires, with no small amount of sarcasm.

Skeeter purses her lips. "Since I got the impression that Mr Riddle," she says, putting emphasis on her usage of my last name, "strongly dislikes reporters, I figured it was probably best to leave it at the office."

I snicker, unable to help myself. "A wise choice, Ms Skeeter." I lean back in my chair and stare at her for a moment. She's poised, quill held patiently over her pad until she can free it to record our every word. "You're the interviewer, ask away," I finally say.

Skeeter nods. "So, the burning question: Are you, Tom Riddle, You-Kn-" my sharp look cuts her off "-err, Lord V-Voldemo-rt...?"

I hum quietly and consider my options. To tell the truth, or to keep with the story that Harry and Minerva are using? 'Don't interrupt,' I order Harry, deciding on the former.

Harry lets out a mental sigh. 'Very well...'

I nod, then return my attention to Skeeter. "Yes and no." Harry lets out a sharp hiss and glares at me while Skeeter gapes. "I'm going to tell the fucking truth, Harry, and you're not going to interrupt," I add, shooting Harry an acidic look.

Harry scowls at me, then gives Skeeter a cold look. "It's your second chance to tell the truth, Rita; use it wisely. And don't make me call Hermione in here."

Skeeter pales faintly, then glares at Harry. "Thank you for the warning, Mr Potter."

I shake my head and make a mental note to ask Harry what Hermione has on Skeeter later, then clear my throat and lean forward. "My mother died giving birth to me, Ms Skeeter, and, as such, I got dumped in a Muggle orphanage. This was during the second World War, so - assuming you know Muggle history - you should be able to guess in what sort of state my 'home' was. I will be the first to admit that I had some psychological problems, and the persona known as 'Voldemort' stemmed from those problems. Or, more accurately, problem.

"I actually took a few Muggle tests earlier this year, curious as to why 'Voldemort' came into existence. I came to the conclusion that it was a case of Multiple Personality Disorder, of sorts, with the 'Voldemort' personality becoming a literal psychopath after a few years.

" 'Voldemort' ended up taking over for an extended time. I, the 'Tom' personality, was only useful for research and strategic planning. A potion that I was making at the beginning of the summer got interrupted at a critical moment and the resulting explosion, somehow, managed to bodily separate 'Voldemort' from 'Tom'. In the end, I ended up helping Harry defeat 'Voldemort' to, quite honestly, save myself."

"It was hardly the selfish reason you keep trying to make it out to be, Tom," Harry mutters.

Skeeter turns to Harry, looking like she's just seen the ghost of her most feared enemy - which, considering my revelation, could very well be true. "And why not, Mr Potter?" she asks, sounding stressed.

Harry shrugs. "Rita, honestly, would you want to be faced with a psychopath who knew your every weakness and couldn't give a damn if you ended up dead?"

"Correction, he quite planned on keeping me alive," I interrupt. "He kind of needed me."

Harry rolls his eyes and tells Skeeter, "Voldemort's safeguard against death - what made him immortal, if you will - was a Dark spell, concept, whatever....called a Horcrux. The idea was that one picked an item that meant something to them, then used the energy from a person he'd just killed to split his soul and place a part of it in said item. A person cannot truly 'die' if their soul is split and a part is trapped in an object that remains whole.

"Voldemort created six Horcruxes. I destroyed one when I was twelve, and Dumbledore got another one before he died. My friends and I found the destroyed remains of a third one in the old Black House. Tom helped me find two more, and Voldemort destroyed his familiar, which was the last, because..." Harry glances over at me questioningly.

"He got sick of hearing her talk," I intone, closing my eyes. I really miss Nagini sometimes - like when I need someone to talk some sense into me.

Harry nods, then looks back at Skeeter. "Voldemort said to Tom, before I killed him, that Tom was his last true Horcrux, since their soul was, literally, split in half again to create them. You said Wormtail was dead when you came to?" Harry glances over at me again.

"As a doornail," I agree, smirking.

Harry sighs. "It's my belief - and this is just my take on this whole thing, so feel free to make your own conjectures - that, in reality, it was Voldemort who was the Horcrux, and not Tom, since Tom was the original personality. Hermione however, thinks that they were sort of acting as each other's Horcruxes, so you could kill one of them, but the other would continue to exist as a whole person."

"No one ever said 'Voldemort' knew how to properly use his bloody brain," I mutter, earning me a laugh from Harry and a faint smile from Skeeter.

"So," Skeeter steps back in, "should we expect any mass killings from you in the future?"

I snort. "No. Unlike 'Voldemort', I have morals and no burning desire to rule the entire world. While I am of the opinion that the Ministry is poorly run, I certainly don't believe that I would be able to make a very large change in the way our world is run."

"What sort of changes are you interested in seeing?" Skeeter asks, looking genuinely curious.

"Better treatment of magical creatures would be a start," I offer. "A large part of the reason that the first war was so devastating was because so many magical creatures hated the way the Ministry treated them and I offered them a better deal."

"I was under the impression that your offers included mass killings of innocents to please the creatures," Skeeter replies sceptically.

I grimace. "I'm not saying that the Ministry should go to the extremes I was offering, but things like allowing werewolves jobs or setting up a blood donation centre to feed the vampires would greatly improve things. Also, many of the magical creatures that I made deals with were firmly against having to register themselves with the Ministry and, while I agree it's a useful measure for when, say, a murdering werewolf needs to be tracked down, I think keeping them from the public and making them Auror-use only would be a better course of action."

Skeeter nods thoughtfully. "Mr Potter, what are your thoughts on that?"

"I'm quite with Tom about all that. The last of my father's school friends is a werewolf and has had trouble finding a job in the past. I'd like it if he could have a steady job without the worry of possibly losing it when his boss finds out what he is," Harry says honestly. "Why?"

"You mean, Harry, you aren't aware how much sway your opinion holds?" I tease, smirking at him. Harry shoots me a dry look in response.

Skeeter laughs at us pleasantly. "Okay, then. So, why won't you go into the Ministry for questioning, Mr Riddle?" she asks, sounding much more serious.

I sigh. "I'm all for it, but I appear to have a number of people around me who are of the opinion that if the Ministry finds out what my relationship with Voldemort is, they'll have me Kissed without a trial. One of them is in this room, actually." I shoot Harry a sharp look.

Harry purses his lips. "Tell me, Rita. Knowing our esteemed government as you do, do you believe that they'd act first and have him Kissed, then ask if he was safe later?"

Skeeter gives me an apologetic look. "Yes, I believe they would," she says in what seems to be an uncharacteristic voice for her, if Harry's startled look is anything to go by. "Fudge would have done so more readily than Scrimgeour, but I doubt our current Minister would stop to think about his actions before acting when it comes to Mr Riddle, considering his past with Dark wizards."

"Now, will you stay here and stop coming up with ways to get to the Ministry without Minerva or myself finding out?" Harry asks, giving me a knowing look.

I cross my arms over my chest. "Stay out of my head, you little Slytherin."

Harry laughs. "You know, Tom, coming from you, that's almost a complement."

I huff and turn back to Skeeter. "Anything else?"

Skeeter is covering her mouth with one hand and, as she responds, I catch sight of a smile. "No, I think that's about all." She glances at Harry with a touch of nervousness. "And I promise to put a note at the beginning of the interview for the readers to read the whole thing through and keep an open mind before taking any actions. Will that keep you and Miss Granger happy?"

"Best we can ask for, considering the interview's material," Harry allows. "And it might help if you state your own opinion of Tom."

Skeeter gives me a considering look and I scowl at her. She smiles. "It might."

I snort. "And don't replace 'Voldemort' with 'You-Know-Who', please. He might have liked people to fear that stupid name, but I think it makes people look like morons. It's just my full name mixed up."

Harry snickers at Skeeter's blank look and uses his wand to write out my full name in the air in fire-like letters. "Tom Marvolo Riddle." Then he motions with his wand and the letters rearrange themselves. "I am Lord Voldemort."

I frown. "Where'd you learn that?"

"Your diary taught me," Harry replies with a shrug as the letters fade from sight.

I drop my head to the top of my desk and groan. "Fuck you, Voldemort."

Skeeter and Harry laugh.

-~/\~-

I seriously consider hiding under my covers for the whole day, but Harry - who has, once again, slept in my bed while I enjoyed my couch - literally drags me from my warm bundle and halfway out into the hallway before I find my brain again and grab onto the door frame. "I'm up, damn you!"

Harry gives me a bored look, but stops pulling on me. "You were the one who was so insistent on telling the whole truth, Tom. Get up, get dressed, and face the consequences as you have made them."

I wrap my blanket, which has followed me out into the hallway, more firmly about myself before standing and walking back into my rooms, heading back towards my couch. "You sound like Hermione."

"I'm currently channelling her spirit. If you get back on that couch, I'll move on to hexes."

I glare at him, then wander into the bathroom, closing the door behind me gently. A nice, hot shower is sounding good...

"You have fifteen minutes!"

I slam open the door and give Harry my most Dark Lord-worthy glare.

"Fourteen," he cheerfully informs me, tapping his watch with his wand.

I slam the door closed and lean back against it, fighting back the urge to curse the sense out of the insufferable Boy-Who's-Begging-To-Be-Murdered-By-The-Nearest-Psychopathic-Ex-Dark-Lord.

'It will be fine, Tom. I promise.' Harry's mental presence hugs me.

'You don't know that. Remember how long it took Minerva and Rubeus to not want to kill me on sight?' I whisper back, pushing back insistent tears - ex-Dark Lords don't cry, you know.

'But they did get over it, and so did Slughorn and Ron and Hermione. Hell, the five of them are some of your closest friends and sternest protectors, whether you want them or not. And the students already like you, which is much better footing than you had with the rest of us,' he soothes.

I push away from the door. 'Can I please take a shower? After that game of Quidditch you and Ron dragged me into, I feel kind of disgusting,' I beg. I hadn't been able to take a shower afterwards because we all went immediately to dinner, then I got dragged into helping my three Gryffindor friends entertain their house with magic tricks until I was so tired that I just wanted to return to my rooms and collapse on my couch. I know it was their way of making sure I wasn't thinking about the interview that was coming out this very morning, and I do appreciate it, but I never ended up getting my shower, and that's just gross.

Harry's answering chuckle rings in my mind pleasantly. 'Only if you leave the door unlocked.'

I shoot the locked door - and through it, Harry - a suspicious look. 'Why?'

'So I can come in there and smack you if you start thinking too hard.'

I laugh and flick on the shower. 'I thought that's why you're in my head,' I shoot back teasingly.

'No, that's so that I can give you hugs when you're on the other side of a locked door from me,' he informs me as I strip. 'Oh, and play voyeur.'

'HARRY JAMES POTTER!!'

Harry's mental laughter fills my mind and I groan.

-~/\~-

Minerva has saved me a seat between her and Slughorn, as always. Rubeus sits on the other side of Minerva and Sinistra on the other side of Slughorn. Shacklebolt is sitting at the end of the table beyond Minerva, chatting pleasantly with Flitwick. I know what they're doing. They're surrounding me with "safe" professors so that there's a lesser chance of me being hit with any sort of curses from anyone who doesn't take the article well. I sigh and take the seat - it's not worth fighting with them over it.

I poke at my food with my fork and only nibble at it when Minerva or Slughorn thinks to press me - it's obvious they're nervous too. A glance towards the Gryffindor Table shows that Harry, Ron, and Hermione also look worried and their housemates are trying to calm them. A few of the elder students are shooting me worried looks as well - I can only assume that Ron or Hermione forewarned them about the article.

When the owls swoop in, I fight the urge to flee the Great Hall for the safety of my couch. Minerva gets her mail next to me and ignores the three letters in favour of the Prophet. I glance over at the heading and feel ill.

'THE TRUTH BEHIND LORD VOLDEMORT'
'As Told By Hogwarts' Professor Riddle and Harry Potter'

I look back at my plate and knock my empty fork against it a few times before glancing back at the article nervously, wondering what it says.

'I received permission from the infamous reporter-
hater and suspected You-Know-Who, Tom Riddle
to come to Hogwarts and interview him about the
Ministry's claims. The following interview was...
most informative.
'Before you read this interview, however, I feel that
I must say a few things. The first is that I respect Mr
Riddle for being as brutally honest as he was, despite
the consequences this article will probably bring for
him.
'The second thing is that I ask, no, I BEG you to read
this interview with an open mind. Mr Riddle is NOT
Voldemort, no matter what you read in this article.
And I can swear that to you, my loyal readers.'

I turn back to my plate and start knocking my fork against it again, the sound loud in the mostly silent Great Hall. Minerva reaches out to stop me, then takes a hold of my hand gently. I feel Harry's calming presence in the back of my mind and glance over towards him. He's reading over Hermione's shoulder, face paler than normal, but not deathly so.

I take a chance and look around the room. Most, if not all, of the students are reading their own paper or over the shoulder of their neighbour. Many are frowning, some - mostly Slytherins - have managed to make their faces blank, others look disgusted, but are continuing to read anyway. I silently thank Skeeter for her disclaimer at the beginning.

'It's not as bad as it could have been,' Harry's voice soothes my agitation. 'She stuck to what happened and used our joking at the end as a way to lighten things up.'

I nod. 'That's good.'

'It's perfect. Look, no one's trying to kill you yet, and it's obvious that a number of students are done reading,' Harry presses.

I glance up and, sure enough, a number of students have returned to their food, looking thoughtful. One or two are looking at me with considering looks, but no one looks ready to hex me. Even Shacklebolt seems to be keeping his calm and just watching me.

Minerva lets go of my hand suddenly and pulls me into a hug. I tense, but don't pull away. "There's nothing to worry about, Tom." She pulls away and gives me one of her stern looks. "Anyone who blames you for Voldemort's actions is a fool. Understand?"

"I quite agree with Minerva," Slughorn informs me, setting down his paper. "And, of course, now I have a believable explanation for all of those odd moods you'd go into during Slug Club meetings."

I give Slughorn an amused look. "And what was your explanation before?"

"Err..." Slughorn looks around for a moment, then gives me a bland smile and changes the subject. "You never eat enough; it's no wonder you're so thin."

"No, Horace, you just eat too much," Sinistra quips from his other side, then gives me a stern look while Slughorn sputters. "But he's right; you've been so worried about this silly interview that you've barely eaten anything yesterday or this morning. I will start sitting next to you and ensuring that you get proper amounts of food, you know," she informs me threateningly.

"Bloody hell," I mutter, spooning some scrambled eggs onto my plate. "I'm eating, woman."

'She's right, you know. You don't eat enough,' Harry informs me with a smirk.

I wave my fork in his direction threateningly. 'You stay out of this, you little horror. You're just as thin as I am.'

Minerva grabs my wrist and gives me a look. "Stop arguing with Mr Potter and eat your breakfast."

I glare at her, but obediently return to eating. 'I hate you all.'

Harry just laughs.

-~/\~-

-~\/~-

A/N: Special thanks to my mum for playing sounding board and grazhir for letting me pester her about a fic she's never read before. *sweatdrop* And, of course, my darling sister for playing beta, though she whined about the deadline I'd set almost non-stop. XD

Feed me? *puppy eyes*
~Bats ^.^x

Chapters:
1 - A Little Potion Accident ||| 2 - The Spectacles ||| 3 - The Last One
4 - Failure? ||| 5 - Seventh Year Begins ||| 6 - Hogsmeade Surprise
7 - In the Aftermath ||| 8 - Trouble in Paradise ||| 9 - Voldemort Who?
10 - Kiss ||| 11 - Wizarding Media - Friend or Foe? ||| 12 - The Unlucky Man Who Saw Voldemort Naked
Epilogue - Just a Little Case of Paradise

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