Chapter 2

"Dumbledore... Riddle... Father..."

I either hissed or really switched to Parseltongue after a few minutes of staring dumbly at the ceiling. Yes, my next awakening was much better than the first. I was still feeling the buzzing in my head, and it looked like an ingot of cast iron, but it didn't interfere with my ability to think clearly. And I had a lot to think about.

When I went through all my memories again, I saw something I hadn't paid attention to before. Not me-Tom, not me-Draco. And even though I-Tom was a mental mage who could work his own memory accurately enough, I couldn't look at myself. It's like with a spot on the robe that is on the back... Without a mirror, you wouldn't even notice it.

For me-Tom, Draco was that mirror. For me-Draco is Tom. What neither of my parts had noticed before, or even considered natural, the other personality found it wildly strange, and sometimes just not natural. It was this that allowed me to notice the hidden and to realize the secret...

Oh, I guess my love of theatricality had passed on to me, too. Tom was very fond of it. But never mind, that was the last thing I cared about right now. Still, finding out that some wild social-magical experiment is being conducted on you is nasty, scary, and simply frightening. Finding out that your beloved father sees you as nothing more than a tool in his plans and the continuation of his kind is hurtful and painful. To find out that your past personality decided to make a submissive slave out of the current one - a tool for fulfilling your desires – generally breaks your brains more abruptly than other potions.

But first things first. Dumbledore... that old bugger decided to conduct a truly genius experiment on one of the school's students. That student was Tom Riddle. A half-blood from an orphanage with no connections or influence, but a great talent for magic. Apparently, the elderly professor of transfiguration thought so, and began to train mental magic and practice Muggle psychology, the latter Draco studied at his father's insistence.

In the end, all of this resulted in a kind of obsession with Tom's own life. It gave rise to paranoia and a general lack of emotionality. Sadism, to say the least. In the end, all this led to the creation of a Horcrux, which merged with the young Malfoy heir and became part of me. It was an unpleasant situation, especially when you consider that I couldn't eradicate the desires and aspirations imposed from outside. They had long ago become part of Tom's personality, and from him they were passed on to me, albeit in a weakened version.

Yeah, feeling like someone else's experiment is pretty fucked up. But I wouldn't go crazy about it, not now, when my position remained too uncertain. And I wasn't the only one who got a lot of things to think.

Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy, was not much different from the old bastard. Only if the latter was just experimenting, learning his skills and testing his theories. I understand that very well, I-Tom had done something similar in his research in magic. Lucius, on the other hand, was purposefully training his son. Even I-Tom couldn't call that attitude nurturing, and the orphan thought that even the worst parents were better than no parents at all. I was wrong...

At least Narcissa was only showing her best side. I'm even almost ready to recognize her as a mother, but that's not about it now. If Dumbledore was out there in Hogwarts, then Lucius was right here in my new home. And something had to be done about him. That bastard would keep an eye on his heir, and he might even start restricting if necessary... As if he wasn't doing it now.

That would be something to think about. But we'll do it later, there are more important things to think about. Moreover, I arranged the main problem for myself. Former me put so many different nasty things on my own horcrux that it could hardly perform its functions at all. Just think! After the incarnation, I had to immediately find my foundation and merge with it, spurring the development of the original. And if something happened to him, and it did, then in general sacrifice yourself for his well-being.

In principle, he did everything correctly and logically. But the only thing was that my Horcrux was not quite normal and right. I can see that now. Instead of the declared seven to ten percent of my soul at the time, it took about thirty-five percent to create the anchor. A huge difference, which translated into greater sanity and strength. Yes, and my merging with the young heir of an ancient lineage broke any plans and safeguards of past me.

In the mental realm, there is only small debris left, replacing solid settings and control circuits. Even that will soon disappear... But it is still shocking and hurtful. It is unpleasant to be stabbed in the back, even from yourself.

Although all this pales in comparison to the fact that I am already far beyond my time. I created a horcrux already in the forty-fourth year, and now it's the summer of the ninety-second. Forty-eight years apart would knock anyone out. Only the part of my personality that Draco had given me helped me come to terms with reality.

It didn't help much with my own Voldemort history, though. Suddenly knowing my own future, which had already become the past... It's hard to comprehend. Even the realization that I wasn't really Tom anymore, but very much Draco Malfoy, who had absorbed the Horcrux of one not-so-lucky Dark Lord, didn't help me much.

There's a certain shock that won't go away. And the rest of my feelings... Yeah, I don't throw a tantrum like a little girl just because of the shock and some skill in mental magic. And even then, the tears just want to run down my cheeks. I had too much on my mind. It was too painful for me after some insights about my past lives.

Draco's memory was especially bad. I-Tom had been through a lot of crap, more or less, as they say... But I-Draco was different. Despite his upbringing in a rather unusual family, he was still a spoiled brat, which soon promised to break into a rich and arrogant young guy. That part of me felt particularly bad about the betrayal of my father and the destroyed picture of the world.

So bad, in fact, that if I hadn't had the funny magic-absorbing bracelets in my body, I might have triggered a childish outburst. I have almost no control over my own power now, the bracelets are driving my sensitivity to magic crazy. I'm not so sure I can do anything when I'm not in control. I remember my first attempts at wandless magic ended up being a lot of fun... and in the infirmary.

"Hmm. That's what I've been missing... " I was wrenching myself out of my own thoughts, and I was feeling this familiar-unfamiliar sensation.

Even the tears rolling down my cheeks didn't distract me from the usual feeling... the feeling of arousal.

And my body is going through that period. As evidenced by that little bump in my groin. Ahem... I gotta get rid of it. I can already hear footsteps outside the door. It would be unpleasant if Lucius or Narcissa caught me in such an awkward position.

For what it's worth, I don't need a lecture on sex education right now. I-Tom has read everything there is to read on the subject. Hmm, the hormonal boom does not bypass the future Dark Lords.

How inopportune was the memory of me-Tom having fun with two members of Hufflepuffat once. I remembered the last time I'd learned the Cruciatus because of that kind of fun. I liked the feel of... extreme games too much. But wiping my memory afterward was a bit frustrating. The feeling of a job well done was fading...

"S-ss-s" The quiet creaking of the door to my room, pulled me away from my own memories. But the underlying problem still hadn't been solved...

That's how it came to be that I was meeting my stepmother with a boner and not quite in an adequate state. How fun....