“See what I see, Harry,” Dumbledore said with that unsettling, wicked smirk. “See the world they believe. See how alone you are and will always be.”

Harry watched as the headmaster’s office came into view. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, a grave look on his face. Professors and Order members filled the room, clearly waiting for news.

“Harry Potter was captured by Death Eaters last night,” Dumbledore announced and gasps rang through the room.

“How did this happen?” McGonagall asked, tears in her stern eyes.

“He accompanied me on a task vital to the destruction of Voldemort,” Dumbledore said. “We were, unfortunately, ambushed and separated. I was unable to get to Harry before they took him away.”

“So, what are we to do?” Kingsley asked.

“Severus, we are in need of your inside knowledge,” Dumbledore said to Severus. “You must find Harry, rescue him if possible, or provide the information needed to allow us to send a rescue mission.”

“As you wish,” Severus said, inclining his head.

The scene changed, then, and Harry found he was looking at himself. His copy was chained to a stone floor in the center of a circle of Death Eaters. He was trembling and bleeding from cuts covering his arms, but he still had his head up, glaring at Voldemort who was watching the events with a look of unbridled glee. 

“Severus, give Harry a warm welcome,” Voldemort drawled. “Show him the truth about your loyalties.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Harry watched Severus step out of line in the circle and approach his copy.

“Dad,” he whispered.

His copy looked up at Severus venomously.

“True loyalties?” his copy sneered. “Like I ever believed you were loyal to Dumbledore.”

Severus said nothing and his eyes were hard, void of any emotion Harry usually saw in his father. Severus raised his wand and brought it down in a sharp, straight motion. His copy hissed, but quickly cried out as more and more lashes appeared on his back, blood steadily flowing out of each.

“Dad, stop!” Harry cried.

On the twentieth lash, his copy screamed and collapsed. Severus knelt down and roughly grabbed his chin. His copy stared at Severus with teary, hate-filled eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Severus whispered to his copy whose eyes reflected confusion.

“Dad, it’s okay!” Harry yelled. “You didn’t hurt me! Dad!”

The scene faded and Harry was left facing Dumbledore. He glowered at the headmaster.

“They belong to me,” Dumbledore said.

“Not forever,” Harry snapped. “I’m close to ending the game and I will end it.”

“Perhaps, but will it be your ending or mine?” Dumbledore said. “I have the army. What do you have?”

“Faith.”

“He’s telling everyone Harry’s been captured,” a deep voice said, pulling Harry from unconsciousness.

“What is he planning?” another voice said. “Why change the game’s story?”

“He knows I know,” Harry muttered, forcing himself to wake further. He found himself regretting it, however, as sharp and dull aches radiated throughout his entire body. He groaned, rolling his head and reluctantly cracking his eyes.

It was pleasantly dim wherever he was, ensuring he wasn’t blinded as he opened his eyes further, blinking to gain clearer vision. He couldn’t see much, but what he could make out was small and wooden.

“Harry?” one of the voices said, sounding closer this time.

He rolled his head again and was able to make out a blurry figure sitting beside him. He squinted, trying to make out any helpful details. He jumped slightly when his glasses were placed on his face, finally enabling him to see.

“Riddle?” he said, realizing who was next to him.

He looked around, noting he was in a small bed with a simple grey blanket covering him. It was a small room, made of wood and with only a single window and a door in the far-right corner. There was a little bedside table with a candle and glass of water. In the left corner by the window across from the door and only a couple meters from the foot of the bed was a small, round, wooden table with a matching chair. The other chair was clearly in use by Riddle at his bedside. To the right of his bed, against the wall, sat a small, narrow set of shelves with books, a few clothes, and other items, and a simple chest.

“How are you feeling?” Riddle asked and Harry moved his eyes back to the man.

“Where am I?” Harry asked instead, ignoring the pain pulsing everywhere.

“Above the Bronze Dragon,” Riddle said.

“I made it back?” Harry said, trying to remember anything from before the darkness and dream.

“Not to Hogwarts, obviously, but, yes,” Riddle said. “We found you outside, half-dead.”

Harry sighed, relieved, but groaned at another wave of pain. He watched through lidded eyes as Riddle walked to the shelves and grabbed something before returning to his seat. He held out a vial.

“Pain Reliever,” Riddle said and Harry reached out slowly.

He winced at the pull of healing injuries and the thick bandages wrapped around his entire forearm. He shuddered as he remembered his burnt, melted skin peeling off. He downed the potion and sagged into the pillow as his pain eased.

“How long?” Harry asked.

“Two nights,” Riddle said. “Tonight is the third.”

Harry sighed again. Everyone was probably losing their minds over him being missing. The thought made him remember.

“He’s telling the Order I was captured by Death Eaters and he’s making Dad think he’s torturing me for you,” Harry said, feeling panicky. “And the locket! He took it, but I…I found another one!”

Riddle held up a hand. “Calm down. Everything will be okay. Yes, all of that is true. We found the locket on you and it is my horcrux, so I must thank you for finding another.”

“But what about the one Dumbledore got?” Harry asked.

“A fake,” a voice said, making both Harry and Riddle look at a frame Harry hadn’t even noticed on the wall opposite the bed. It had been filled with Slytherin. “An R.A.B. seems to have known something no one else did.”

“Regulus,” Riddle muttered and Harry frowned at him.

“What?” Harry said.

“Regulus Black, your godfather’s brother,” Riddle said. “He was my first ally, but he disappeared. I never knew what happened.”

“Apparently he knew something about what Dumbledore was doing,” Slytherin said. “He replaced the locket with a fake to help you.”

“How do you know all this?” Harry asked, shifting around so he was sitting up a bit more.

“He left a note in the fake locket and I was able to read it while Dumbledore did,” Slytherin said. “Dumbledore is furious.”

Riddle sighed. “As expected. Thank you, Master Slytherin.”

Slytherin inclined his head and disappeared from the frame. Riddle turned back to Harry.

“I have to get back to the castle,” Harry said. “I need to tell Severus I’m okay.”

“You will be unable to even leave bed until tomorrow,” Riddle said. “Perhaps you could tell me what happened, why we had to drag you inside, dying.”

Harry frowned. “We?”

Riddle turned his head just slightly towards the door and Harry watched the Bronze Dragon’s bartender enter the room. His eyebrows furrowed, confused why a bartender would help him and why Riddle seemed to know him, only for the bartender to wave his wand over himself. The man shimmered and Harry’s eyes widened as his appearance completely changed. Where once there had been a shorter, scrawnier man with slightly tanned skin and sandy brown hair, now there stood an extremely familiar and large black man.

“Kingsley?” Harry said, stunned and completely mystified.

“Harry,” Kingsley said. “Glad you’re awake, kid.”

Harry looked between him and Riddle, desperate to rattle off questions.

“We will explain,” Riddle said as Kingsley moved to sit at the little table, “but we need to know what is going on with Dumbledore first. What happened?”

Harry sighed, but nodded. “Dumbledore brought me to get a horcrux, but it was a set-up. He knows I know everything and he left me there to die. He said I broke the rules, should have accepted my role, but that he’d adapt the game. He’d turn me into a martyr for the ‘greater good’ and choose a different hero.”

“But he’s told the Order you were captured by Death Eaters, not killed,” Kingsley said. “How does this change the ending of the game?”

“He said he’s got an army,” Harry said, remembering his dream. “He told Severus to find out where I am so the Order can arrange a rescue mission. Who else is seen as an ultimate hero than the leader that wins the war while losing devoted followers to willing sacrifice?”

“Dumbledore is the new hero,” Riddle said, his face grave.

“And he’s going to sacrifice Order members trying to ‘rescue’ me,” Harry said.

“How does this change the ending though?” Kingsley asked.

“He was going to have us kill each other, or you kill me at least,” Harry said to Riddle. “He thinks he’s destroying your horcruxes. He’s planning to be the one to kill you now.”

They fell silent, lost in thought at the changes. Kingsley crossed his arms, Riddle leaned on his knees, and Harry shifted, uncomfortable under the bandages covering a large portion of his body. He could remember his horrible wounds, the Bone-Eating Potion, and the blood pouring out of him. He certainly would have died had Riddle and Kingsley not found him.

“Why were you both here?” Harry asked, looking up from his bandaged arm and dropping his other hand from where he’d been dancing his fingers over the bandages covering the crook of his neck and most of his shoulder.

“This is where I live,” Riddle said, “and it is a sort of headquarters and haven for Kingsley.”

Harry blinked at them. “What?”

Kingsley chuckled and Riddle smiled, obviously amused.

“I created the Bronze Dragon as a place I could heal and from where I could watch Hogwarts,” Riddle said. “It is under a Fidelius and only those who know about it can find it.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain you,” Harry said, pointing at Kingsley.

“I was under Dumbledore’s Mind Magic just like everyone else,” Kingsley said. “I joined the Aurors and then the Order. I was meant to be Dumbledore’s eyes in the Ministry. However, he didn’t count on a recon mission backfiring.”

“What happened?” Harry asked.

“In nineteen seventy-seven, I was sent on a recon mission to scout a well-known headquarters of Voldemort,” Kingsley said. “I was supposed to find information about Death Eaters and Voldemort’s plans. Imagine my surprise when a young man by the name of Tom Riddle found me skulking around his manor.”

Harry raised an eyebrow when Riddle rolled his eyes.

“I tried to curse him, so he sat me down for tea and story time,” Kingsley said, grinning at Riddle. “I learned the truth and he helped me break the Mind Magic. In return, I did what I could to keep the Order away from him.”

“After I was injured that Halloween, he helped me create the Bronze Dragon and helped me heal,” Riddle said.

“Since you started at Hogwarts, I’ve been doing my best to use the Ministry to try and stop Dumbledore,” Kingsley said. “I’ve had limited success, but I’ve managed to give you all a break a few times.”

Harry looked at him curiously.

“Your second year when Dumbledore was forced to step down. The Dementors in your third year were meant to help counteract the Mind Magic by making everyone remember some things through the Dementors’ presence and effects. The Triwizard Tournament was meant to bring in enough strangers that Dumbledore wouldn’t be able to use the Mind Magic to the same extent. Employing Umbridge to get rid of Dumbledore, though, I’d like to apologize for how poorly that one went. I had no idea she was so unstable,” Kingsley said, looking regretful.

Harry glanced at his left hand, the white lines of ‘I must not tell lies’ still stark against his skin. “Thanks for trying.”

Kingsley nodded at him. “So, what’s the plan now that the game’s changed?”

“We may be able to use this situation to our advantage,” Riddle said and Harry looked at him questioningly. “Dumbledore thinks you’re dead. We can weaken him, throw him off with the fact that you’re not. He won’t know to watch for you.”

“Get more on our side,” Kingsley said and Harry frowned.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“You walk into the meeting when Dumbledore is about to send out the rescue mission,” Riddle said. “It will make those Order members question Dumbledore, doubt his actions and cause.”

“Got it,” Harry said, nodding in understanding.

“Another thing you can do before revealing yourself,” Riddle said. “The hourglass. Break it so he stops collecting our magic and can’t replace the Founders’ magic.”

“I can do that,” Harry said. “How do I stay hidden in the castle?”

“Stay in the Chamber and use your invisibility cloak when you leave,” Riddle said and Harry nodded.

“I need to call Severus,” Harry said. “I need to tell him I’m okay.”

Riddle moved to the set of shelves again and picked a journal and quill from one. He handed them to Harry, sitting once again. “Your bracelet is missing. It must have broken off in the cave.”

“Of course,” Harry said with a sigh, opening the journal. He flipped through their weeks of correspondence until he found the page with the last message. Hoping Severus was near the journal, he quickly scrawled a message.

Dad, I’m okay. I’m at the Bronze Dragon with Riddle.

He looked up at Riddle as he waited for a response. “I won’t be able to find out anything about Hufflepuff’s goblet now.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Riddle said, waving a hand dismissively. “I have its location narrowed down to two places. Once you are better, Kingsley and I will be going to look.”

“Anything about the last two swords?” Kingsley asked.

“We think there might be another one somewhere on the school grounds,” Harry said. “We found out the Founders were buried at the school and my friends found a blueprint of the castle and grounds. They’ve been looking, but we don’t know where their grave is yet.”

“It’s something at least,” Kingsley said.

Harry nodded and looked back at the journal, finding a reply.

Don’t. Move.

Harry snorted, writing, Even if I wanted to.

He handed the journal back to Riddle. “Dad’s coming.”

“I’ll go down and wait for him,” Kingsley said and he left the room.

“Riddle?” Harry said.

“You may call me Tom, if you wish,” Riddle said. “I’d say you earned it after all you’ve done these last few months.”

Harry gave him a small smile and nodded. “Say we manage to do this, we defeat him and win. What do you think happens then?”

Riddle—Tom—considered him, obviously honestly thinking about the offered scenario. Eventually, he sighed with a wry smile. “I’m not sure, quite frankly. It would be foolish to think everything returns to how it was always meant to be with no issue. It has been more than seven decades after all.”

He paused, staring off at nothing. Harry waited quietly for him to continue.

“I suppose it would be wonderful if, once everything is settled, that our world flourishes, that the students that pass through Hogwarts receive what the Founders intended, what we were all denied,” Tom said.

“Everyone will find a place,” Harry said. “Find a home.”

Tom smiled at him. “A home.”

“Where the hell is my son, Kingsley?”

Harry’s eyebrows jumped as Severus’ voice travelled through the wooden floor. He and Tom exchanged a look as they heard hurried footsteps on the stairs, and Tom moved to the little table just as Severus burst into the room. Tom gestured to him in the bed and Severus rushed over, sitting on the edge. Harry was immediately pulled into a firm, but gentle hug, his father clearly wary of his injuries.

“I’m okay,” Harry said as his father pulled back and started examining him.

“You most certainly are not! Look at you, you foolish child!” Severus said, his expression a mix of anger, frustration, and worry. “What the hell were you thinking, going anywhere with Dumbledore and without telling anyone?”

“Ron and Hermione knew,” Harry argued, but relented at the hard glare he received. “I was going to tell you, but I ran out of time. I know it was dangerous to go, but we needed the locket.”

“Which Dumbledore got anyway, insolent—”

“Actually, he got a fake,” Tom interrupted. “Harry did, in fact, retrieve the real locket.”

Harry had to hide his grin at the glower Severus shot Tom.

“Do not encourage him,” Severus said.

Harry sighed. “Dad, I’m really okay. Tom and Kingsley saved me.”

“What happened?” Severus asked.

“Dumbledore knows that I know everything, so he left me to the Inferi,” Harry said and Severus visibly paled. He reached out to grasp his father’s hand. “I’m here. I made it.”

Severus squeezed his hand and cupped his cheek. “I was so worried. You were gone and then he came back without you, telling us you’d been captured and then making me think I was hurting you. I didn’t know what to think.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Harry said. “You didn’t hurt me though. He used your Mark to create another meeting.”

Severus nodded. Harry could feel the relief in the kiss pressed to his forehead. He watched his father pull back, dropping the hand from Harry’s cheek, and turned to Tom and Kingsley.

“Thank you for helping him,” Severus said.

Kingsley inclined his head while Tom smiled.

“No thanks necessary,” Tom said. “I would do anything to help the two of you.”

“Dad,” Harry said, pulling Severus’ attention back to him. “We’ve got a plan.”

“Harry!”

Harry grunted and winced as Hermione threw herself around him. He lifted his less injured arm to hug her back. When she finally released him and stepped back, she had tears in her eyes.

He smiled at her. “I’m alright, Hermione.”

“Like hell, mate,” Ron said, eyeing him up and down. “What happened?”

“Inferi, mostly, but also a really bad Splinching,” Harry said, letting Severus push him past his friends and into an armchair. Ron and Hermione sat on the sofa while Severus remained standing behind Harry.

“Bloody hell,” Ron breathed.

“So, Dumbledore left you to die?” Hermione said and Harry nodded. “Does he know you’re still alive?”

Harry shook his head. “And we’re going to keep it that way until the right moment.”

“Right moment?” Ron said questioningly.

“He’s changed the game,” Harry said. “He’s going to be the hero now.”

“The headmaster is telling the Order that Harry has been captured by Death Eaters,” Severus said. “He plans to launch a rescue mission upon my say so.”

“It’ll be a trap,” Hermione realized. “He plans to sacrifice those who go on the mission.”

Harry nodded. “When it’s time, the ‘rescue’ will be arranged, but I’ll walk in before they leave. They’ll see I was never captured and Dumbledore lied.”

“Cast doubt in Dumbledore’s army,” Ron said.

“Exactly,” Harry said. “I have a couple other things to do before that, though, so I’ll be staying down here. Ron, I need you to bring me my things. Hermione, I need you to send Hedwig away, somewhere safe.”

“Send her to my cottage,” Severus said. “Highland Cottage. She will be safe there. No one knows of it.”

Harry smiled up at his father, grateful, while his friends nodded in agreement.

“He only knows that I know anything, so you need to act upset and worried that I’m gone,” Harry told them. “We need as much time as possible to get this all right.”

“We actually have something to tell you that might help,” Hermione said.

“We know where the Founders are buried,” Ron said and Harry perked up. “It’s a mausoleum deep in the Forbidden Forest.”

“Remember where you met Firenze in first year?” Hermione said.

“The centaurs have been guarding it,” Harry said and his friends nodded. “Dumbledore must have tricked them into letting him enter it.”

“More than likely,” Ron said.

“And it explains why they came to you in first year,” Hermione said. “It was Dumbledore attacking you and they were trying to keep him away.”

“And me,” Harry said. “They knew it wasn’t time yet and that I wasn’t the right hero.”

“So, who is?” Hermione asked. “Malfoy or Riddle?”

“This mausoleum is a long-kept secret. Even the ghosts don’t know about it,” Harry said.

“Finding it is like finding a truth,” Ron said, obviously realizing what Harry was getting at. “Ravenclaw.”

Harry nodded. “Draco.”