Early Spring of 1208
Somewhere in Northumberland
Peverell Castle

"Who are you?"

Antioch Peverell was already three years old. Much too old to need an imaginary friend. He wasn't a baby after all.

So imagine his surprise when he noticed the strange looking man that was always lingering wherever he was.

A strange man that was only visible to himself.

It might have spooked him. It certainly spooked Lord and Lady Peverell.

But Antioch was a brave and curious child. He soon moved from not knowing what to make of the stranger who only observed and never spoke to trying to interact with him.

It is what one does with their imaginary friend, no?

So, on one sunny afternoon in the solar room Antioch walked right up to the stranger leaning against the large golden harp currently being played by house elf magic.

If one were to ignore the high lispy voice of a very young child, Antioch appear to emulate the commanding presence of his Lord father to a highly convincing degree.

Unfortunately, no matter how very serious Antioch tried to convey, it would be rather difficult for any adult to keep from feeling amusement at the knee high cherub staring up at you with large vivid green eyes, thick lashes like fans batting at you curiously.

Indeed, this 'first' meeting between Antioch and Death was rather humorous for the latter. It made the unexpected situation of Antioch being born without memories of his previous life more bearable for the ancient being.

It would take quite a few more years before Antioch recalls all of his memories as Harry Potter. In the meanwhile, Death was saddled with a child for a Champion. A child just as prone to finding himself in the thick of mischief as his previous self.

.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself? Hmm?"

"That's right! You've been a naughty young man!"

"Incorrigible indeed."

"Just how did Adeodatus raise such an unruly child!"

"SHUT UP." An impulsive burst that had been building since he had been locked into this room with 2-dimensional 'wardens' to 'reflect' on his misbehavior.

Unfortunately, it did not have the desired effect, admirably commanding for a puerile voice to pull off though it may be.

"Why I never…!"

"Boy needs a good smacking..."

"That's no way to talk to your elders! For shame!"

Antioch groaned in exasperation, which had only set them off into a greater fervor.

"Tsk-tsk. Has your Occlumency practices gone to the dogs?" An inappropriately delighted voice intoned before the room went blessedly quiet as the portrait figures froze in their frames.

"Gah. It's about time you showed up. I can't feel my arms anymore." Antioch uttered weakly as he immediately freed himself from the punishing position of having his arms held straight forward perpendicular to his body with both index fingers pointed and balancing a conjured feather. The two feathers vanished on contact to the floor.

"I honestly can't figure out why the poor Lord Peverell still insists on punishing you when the lesson will only automatically obliviate itself from your mind by the next morning. Ah, the wonders of bloodlines, the both of you have the memory of a goldfish. What was that saying - like father like son?"

"Please, do be more obvious about your Schadenfreude tendencies." A rolled eye and put-upon sigh was the only response from the sprawled mess of coltish preteen limbs on the floor.

Death raised a thin brow as he spared an unimpressed look at the petulant twelve year old currently doing a rather likely impression of a starfish at his feet. "I can restore the portraits to mobility if you prefer."

"No!" The disheveled lump flipped himself face up to stare upside down with wide green eyes at his companion.

Smirking, Death decided to let the boy off the hook this time. "The other two-third of your little trio is currently trying to break their way through the ward placed on the Portrait Gallery. Not very stealthily, just so you know."

Before Antioch could do more than utter "Bugger!" Death had already graciously unlocked the door to reveal two boys, one ten and the other nine, with identical surprise reflected in round hazel eyes that were framed by the same uniquely wine red hair that Antioch also sported.

"Antioch! Was he here just now?" The younger of the two new arrivals asked in hushed excitement, looking furtively around the large spacious room to the amusement of Death.

Antioch smirked noncommittally but the other two boys understood immediately by their mixed excited and nervous looks.

It had been years since he had shared the secret with his brothers and Death had revealed himself to the Peverell boys that one time but for Cadmus and Ignotus it would still never lose its shocking quality.

"Anyway! We heard all about it from mother!" Ignotus continued excitedly, still young enough to be awe-inspired by his older brother's idiotic antics.

"Don't give him a big head, Ignotus. Antioch shouldn't have gone near father's griffins let alone free the entire herd." The older one sighed with a disapproving look at his two brothers. Despite his young age he had a rather stern expression on his face. But with two troublesome brothers to worry about it was quite understandable.

Antioch rolled his eyes, "It was an accident. You should stop hanging out too much with cousin Amira, Cadmus, or I swear you'll turn into as much as a wet blanket as she is."

Cadmus faced flushed a deep red to match his hair, "Amira is not a wet blanket!"

"We know she's your betrothed and all but honestly there's no need to deny the truth." Antioch smirked lazily.

"Amira is a wet blanket!" Ignotus exclaimed in amusement.

Death let out a put-upon sigh as he watched the Peverell boys act as immaturely as their age expected. Sometimes he really did look forward to when they finally grow up. Not only because Antioch would regain his memories but also so that he doesn't have to be subjected to inane adolescent chatter.

Bang!

The door slamming open, however, put an end to the silly bickering taking place before Death decided to reveal himself and end the silliness with his presence alone.

One short-tempered Lord would do the job nicely instead. Death chuckled, ignoring the accusing emeralds that were flickering his way furtively as their owner and his brothers were lined up and forced to recite the infamous Peverell Precepts while undergoing the Cruel and Unusual punishment that the Peverell boys know as the Feather Punishment by their irate Lord father.

Oh but then again, Death has to admit that he likely won't have much more opportunities to see his Master being punished and chided at like an unruly child, completely unable to resist the tyrannical rule of his Lord father.

He supposed he can wait patiently for a few more years.

.

January 9, 1933
Somewhere in Northern Italy
Zabini Estate

A soothing harmony of Irish flutes, harps, highland bagpipes and bronze bells rang out in the circular meadow that was enclosed in by leafy olive trees.

Hidden among the trees, the charmed instruments played diligently to create a healing and spiritual melody that set of the exotic ambience off the surroundings.

At least to Tom, not only was the music exotic but also what will shortly be taking place in this little meadow.

A traditional wizarding funeral, much like the wizarding world in general, place a great importance on community. As a result, wizarding funerals are kept small, usually only including immediate friends and family members. Tom had read up on it over the past week since learning that Harry will be the officiant or the Priest, at the funeral held for Lady Zabini.

It was actually quite rare nowadays for wizarding folks to hold a traditional wizarding funeral that consist of all the ritual aspects the ceremony calls for. Like a lot of branches of magic and old wizarding traditions that have been banned, traditional wizarding funerals had also lost their prominence. But for a select few Dark or old pureblood families, the general wizarding populace gradually adapted Christian funerals. Which, according to Harry, was a pity because a traditional wizarding funeral is definitely a unique and fascinating experience.

In one of Harry's few lecturing mood, "The ceremony is structured around treating death like a journey, and a return to nature. It is meant to help a spirit along their journey to a certain place of transit, like a giant train station, in their journey to the afterlife. It is especially important as the final great ceremony in a witch or wizard's life."

According to Harry, one of the first tenets to follow when delving into the field of death magic and necromancy is that much like the cyclical behavior of nature and the corresponding festivals observed by traditional pureblood wizards and witches, traditional wizarding funerals are carried out under the belief that death isn't the end, but rather a new beginning. As a result, most should not have any reason to fear or mourn death.

Of course, in Tom's opinion, that's a lot of bollocks. Who doesn't fear death? Though, Tom has to grudgingly admit, when put in that way the prospect of death do not seem as ominous as before. Notwithstanding his own doubts on the subject, it was a fascinating insight to magic that Harry has not allowed him to touch just yet.

Shaking his head, Tom looked around him at the fellow wizards who were invited to attend the funeral. Most were of Mediterranean coloring but some obviously looked and sounded British. All were dressed in expensive and tailored robes. If it wasn't already obvious that they were pureblood then the obvious aura of superiority was a helpful tipoff.

He wondered if they would be scandalized to know they have a halfblood in their midst.

As Tom watched them covertly, he noticed that they acted nothing like Harry. Or perhaps it was Harry who stood out among his fellow pureblood wizards.

Tom furrowed his brows imperceptibly as he overheard two older school aged boys that Harry wouldn't have looked out of place next to.

"What's up with you and that Hufflepuff witch, Miriam or what's-her-name? I saw you exchanging addresses just before winter break."

"It's Mariah and yeah, I think she's totally into me."

"Don't you already have a betrothed? A fourth year Slytherin right?"

"So? No one says I can't have a little fun before I get hitched."

"Haha! You utter slag!"

Thankfully, it was at that moment when the official ceremony began and Tom watched transfixed as his Harry performed a funeral rite as old as magic.

.

"Mother Magic gather us in your arms. You, who know the grief of losing a loved one, send us comfort. Mother and protector stand by our side. You, who know life and death, send us guidance…"

In the very center of the ritual space, mourners consisting of immediate family members and friends wait in a ring around the altar on which Lady Zabini in the familiar elegant walnut casket was placed, while Harry recites a ritual chant. As a visitor, Tom stands as part of the outer ring of the ceremony.

Harry, dressed in sweeping robes of dark green and black, stands within the circle as he conducts the ceremony, a long grey wand in hand. Counterclockwise, Harry performs a series of intricate wand movements that leave behind glowing imprints of runes in the air above the altar. Tom can only recognize the runes for Raido and Sowilo.

"In a place which is not a place; in a time which is not a time, halfway between the worlds of the Gods and of mortals..."

On the end of the final rune carved into the air, a geometrical array of runes lit up above the altar, brighter than even the morning sun. It cast golden rays down onto the walnut casket, highlighting golden veins that Tom had not noticed before.

"Merry meet, and merry part, and merry meet again, Sophia Agnes Smith."

Tom stifled a gasp as a hazy figure shimmered briefly into existence underneath the rune light before disappearing completely as the rotating array of runes flashed once, twice before dying out.

Fortunately, he was not the only one startled as some of the younger children in the crowd had similar reactions.

All was silent except for the soft, melancholy croon of Irish flutes.

It was eventually broken by the soft clicking of multiple horse hooves and the creaking of wheels. While Tom could not see them, he knew that it was thestrals pulling the black carriage with velvet drapes to arrive on the outskirts of the circle, the familiar lanky figure of Undertaker, swathed in plain black robes and face covered in the pointed hood of a black cloak, perched on the driver's seat.

A pillar candle was lit and left to burn while the immediate family and friends of the deceased broke the circle to proceed to the Zabini family grave behind the carriage carrying the casket.

Tom knew that once they have finished their private part of the ritual they will rejoin everyone else for a reception which is actually a social gathering for mingling. Indeed, quiet conversations had already started and house elves began to appear with trays of light refreshments.

Tom took a glass of amber liquid that tastes of honey and spices and what he thinks to be the sweetness of flowers and fruits. The rather delicious concoction warmed up his belly and made his face flush with heat.

That was how Harry had found him, cheeks flushed and large brown eyes misted over.

Harry let out a startled chuckle, "Tom where on earth did you get your hands on -" taking a quick sip of the half empty glass of amber liquid, "fairy mead?"

"From the house elves." Tom blinked slowly, "Harry you're glowing."

"Ok kid, let's get some solids in you. Not a good idea to have fairy mead on an empty stomach." Harry stirred Tom over to a table piled with colorful confectionery and fruits.

Both guardian and ward were halfway through making a dent in their respective plates when they were joined by the familiar boisterous presence of Zabini.

"Hadrian!" Zabini arrived in quick strides, robes flapping to the disapproval of an older looking wizard that followed behind him in a more sedate and graceful pace. At his side was a young boy around Tom's age who mimicked the stern countenance of the older wizard. Judging from the resemblance to Zabini this pair of father and son had it was quite likely they were close relatives.

"Dominic, Alessio." Harry nodded in greeting. "And this must be Matteo. I don't think we have ever officially met."

"Now's a good a time as any. Matteo and Tom are the same age, I'm sure they'll have a lot to talk about. Let the little nippers go bond on their own." To the annoyance of Tom and the other boy Zabini made shooing gestures at them.

The older wizard, evidently the Lord Zabini, nods stiffly before sparing a smile at his son, "Matteo, why don't you introduce Tom to your friends." Turning evaluating sea blue eyes on Tom, "I heard from Dominic and Hadrian you have little contact with other wizarding children. It will be good to remedy that."

The boy Matteo respectfully nodded to the adults, "Then we'll be off Father, Uncle Dom. I will have Tom taken care of as befitting of an honored guest, Lord Peverell."

Harry chuckled at the serious little boy trying to affect an adult countenance, "Then I will thank you in advance, Heir Zabini."

Matteo Zabini puffed up his little chest in pride at his new 'adult responsibilities' completely unaware of the amused glances shared between the adult wizards.

Harry patted Tom's shoulder and smiled at the reluctant boy, "Go on and have some fun. And behave."

Tom huffed but followed the Zabini heir to a small group of similarly aged children a little ways off at the next refreshment table.

Two boys and two girls made up the small circle. Four sets of curious eyes fixed on Tom as he made his way towards them.

"Everyone, this is Tom." The Zabini heir declared.

"Tom? What's your family name?" One of the boys who had strikingly pale blonde hair and equally pale, pointed features asked with a furrow of his brows.

Tom swept his eyes impassively over the group of pureblood children before replying, "My full name is Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"Riddle? I have never heard of the wizarding name Riddle. Are you a mudblood?" The pale, pointy boy uttered again, distastefully.

"Abraxas! I swear you have the subtlety of a mountain troll!" The girl next to him rolled her eyes as she curled a long brown ringlet around a finger.

"And the brain of one!" Zabini snapped. "Tom is Lord Peverell's ward. He can't possibly be a muggleborn!"

"Lord Peverell? The Lord Peverell that acted as Priest during the ritual?" The other boy in the group blinked in interest, his hair as dark as Tom's but eyes a frosty blue.

Tom observed their similar reactions to Harry, satisfied to see the same flicker of respect and even admiration. He nods graciously, a smirk curving his lips.

"Well. Where are our manners? Matteo you forgot to properly introduce us." The final one in the group who had kept quiet up until now announced. Black hair in a short bob and equally black eyes peered out curiously from behind horn rimmed spectacles when before there had only been disinterest.

Zabini rolls his eyes, "I would not have been amiss in my manners had someone not interrupted in the first place."

The pale boy, Abraxas, stiffly inclined his head in an apology towards Tom, "Apologies. I am Abraxas Corvinus Malfoy."

"I'm Bonnie Greengrass!" The brown ringlets girl greeted cheerfully, her demeanor as bouncy as her hair.

"Esmond Rosier. Pleasure to meet you." The frosty eyed boy greeted with a polite smile and a handshake.

"Isolde Prince." The girl in horn rimmed spectacles greeted simply, black eyes seemingly dissecting Tom, occasionally flickering between him and where Harry stood in the distance surrounded by older wizards and witches all of whom seem to be of some standing.

"And well, you already know me. But for property's sake, I'm Matteo Zabini but you can just call me Matteo." Zabini declared.

Pasting on a polite and friendly smile, Tom returned their greetings, "I am pleased to meet you all."

"So how did you become a ward of the Lord Peverell?" Greengrass began eagerly, hazel eyes glinting with gossip.

"What I would like to know is what's Lord Peverell like? Is he as powerful as everyone says?" Rosier interjected with undisguised interest.

"Well he would have to be, being recruited by Athens' College of Magic before the usual age of fourteen and then graduated in several fields at a mere seventeen years of age. The College had even offered him a teaching position immediately afterwards!" Zabini said matter-of-factly.

"That's nothing compared to having dueled that German Dark Lord and survived when he had just turn eighteen. My father told me all about it." Malfoy added imperiously.

Prince pushed up her spectacles delicately, "I think his academic contributions are more impressive. My father have subscriptions to Magical Theory and Magical Policy where all his works are published dating back to when he was just fourteen."

"Even without all of that I think it's quite obvious that he's powerful. Not just anyone can be the Priest at a proper wizarding funeral." Greengrass rolled her eyes at Rosier. "I want to know something new."

It was the first time Tom was hearing any of this. Pushing aside the mixed emotions that arose as a result of these revelations, he answered, "Harry doesn't brag about his accomplishments." Tom lifts his chin proudly, "What I can tell you is that I am a descendant of the Peverell line which is why Harry reclaimed me under the protection of House Peverell." To the fascinated interest of the pureblood children that gathered around him, Tom spun a rather moving tale of how the Lord Peverell had discovered his existence and then rescued him from the muggles. It was even the truth, albeit with a few embellishments.

Secretly amused, Tom easily had the children wrapped around his finger, if he did say so himself. Basking in their envious attentions, Tom was pulled from the smug euphoria by Harry's voice.

"Tom." Harry appeared behind Tom, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I hate to take you away from your new friends but it's about time to leave. "

Harry smiled and nodded at the excited chorus of "Lord Peverell!".

"The ceremony will officially end soon. Matteo, your father wants you to assist him with biding the guests farewell."

Matteo nodded seriously before excusing himself from Tom and the rest.

As Tom also left with Harry, his new 'friends' gave out eager invitations to write or visit.

Having bid farewell to the Zabinis they exited the small forest, Tom walking with Harry through the rolling Italian hills that make up the grounds of Zabini Estate towards the edge of the wards.

"Did you enjoy yourself today?" There was a smile that edged through that question. Looking up, Tom also noted the dazzling smile that was also on Harry's face.

"It was alright." Tom's eyes remained fixed on that smiling face.

"Only alright?" A raised brow.

"It was interesting." Tom rolled his eyes. For awhile now he has noticed Harry's annoying habit of prompting him to be more truthful about his feelings.

"Oh?"

"I learned a lot about Harry today."

"Me?"

"Yes. Why didn't you tell me that you dueled a Dark Lord?" Tom demanded with a rather indignant look on his face.

Harry startled in surprise, "Oh, that. It wasn't important. It's hardly worth the fuss the newspapers made it to be."

Tom examined the older wizard suspiciously, "Really?"

"Of course. I've nearly forgotten about the whole thing, honestly." Harry blinked large green eyes that glow impossibly vibrant as sunlight hit them just right.

Tom wasn't entirely convinced. It supposedly happen not even two years ago. How could Harry have forgotten so fast? But for now he'll put it aside. "I want to see your publications in Magical Theory and Magical Policy."

"You heard about that too?" Harry sighed, a light blush staining the ivory skin of his neck and cheekbones.

Tom gave him a look.

"Yes, alright. You likely won't understand it completely, it's not exactly reading material for your age even if you are more advanced than your peers." Harry ruffled Tom's dark brown curls in exasperated fondness. "Once we get home, alright?"

"Fine." Tom agreed, taking Harry's arm for apparition, a little pleased smile on his face.