Authors Note: Alright, this note is a bit long, but I feel the the need to explain a few things.

Firstly, this is going to be the last chapter uploaded without my Beta's going over it, so please know that the flaws are going to be corrected eventually. They're moving up from the first chapter, and it's going to be a while before the story gets going again, but this is not abandoned. It's just going to take some time, but I want to do this right. These changes will not be earth shattering, except I will be partially rewriting chapter 10, as that has been by far the most controversial, and that's on me. It was a sudden lurch for Tommy to figure it out, and it was the result of me wanting to bring the characters together quickly. I admit, I wanted to get on with the most interesting part of the story to me, that being the characters reacting to a wildly different reality and Harry. I had no interest in creating an elaborate mystery surrounding him, but I rushed it and I understand if some readers were expecting that element. In this chapter, Slytherin lays out his logic a bit, but when the rewrite comes to this point it will most likely change. All other story elements will remain the same.

That's because this will be my only long fic on this site for at least the next few years. My free time is rapidly diminishing, and I doubt once it's done that'll I'll be able to come back to it.

Next, most of my reviews have been great, but a vocal minority have been... less kind, and I'd like to speak to them directly. Listen, I know this story is not perfect, and I'm sorry if that spoils your enjoyment of this, but this story is my vision, and I need to stay true to that. I am not a professional writer and I make no claims to be. I am not going to spend too much time studying story structure to smooth out all the rough edges when I could just be writing.

Also, if you're going to leave rude reviews stop acting surprised when I write back with the same energy! You want to be dicks in the reviews that's your right, but I am more then willing to hit back. I have no responsibility to be polite to you, that has to be earned. If you have a disagreement with my work, put it politely, don't act holier than thou and I'll be perfectly willing to change it or at least discuss it. Be rude, curt, or ride in on a high horse and I have no problem telling you exactly how full of shit you are.

But I can't stop you. Just want to set the correct expectations. And it is fun arguing with strangers online. As for the nice or polite reviews, thank you very much. You give me the motivation to keep going. And whatever you think of this story, thank you for reading it!

Harry was floating on the surface of the lake, the water lapping around him. His ears were under the water, so everything sounded muffled and distant. The sun danced over his closed eyelids, and he could feel a lovely warmth.

It was nice to get away for a little while, and the summer warmth was lovely. It seemed the squid was far away tonight, and none of the mermen were close. He kept his eyes closed.

Maybe Ron and Hermione could come out, Ginny too. He wouldn't mind some company. With everything that had happened recently, they all needed to get away, even if just onto the grounds.

He'd missed them.

The light was growing brighter. A burning flake drifted down and settled on his forehead. He snapped his eyes open, and gasped in the night air.

Hogwarts was a roaring inferno. Smoke blotted out the stars, and he could see the his house tower leaning dangerously. The windows looked like eyes with orange whites, staring at him.

'You did this', they seemed to say. 'You failed us.'

He peered further, and could see bodies littering the ground around the lake, the grass burned away. He saw Ron and Hermione nearby, curled in each others arms. Neville was near the edge, face half blasted off.

'They trusted you, followed you. To this end.'

Harry tried to move, but his limbs were too heavy. He looked down, and saw his armor had been rendered apart, splaying his insides into the water.

'All your power, and still you were helpless at the end' they mocked, eyes glassy. He had to move, to save them!

'Save us? You can't even save yourself.'

Something churned beneath him. It tasted the blood in the water, and it was hungry. Tears escaped his eyes. He had failed, failed everyone and everything.

The water rushed around him, mixing with the tears.

The creature rushed towards him, he could feel its teeth sink into his flesh-

He jerked back to consciousness, heart hammering in his chest. His stomach burned with pain, preventing him from getting up. He was shrouded in darkness, and the bed he was lying in was sinfully soft. It felt like he was melting into it.

His breath evened out, and he felt naked. He was covered in soft sheets without his armor in the way, and he couldn't feel his wand.

He tried to move around, only for two soft hands to land on his shoulders and push him back into the marshmallow mattress. "Don't move, you'll reopen your injury," said a strangely familiar voice, a woman's.

"Wa-" he tried to ask for his wand, but his throat was desert dry, and the word stuck in his throat. Before he could try again, a cold glass was pressed to his mouth.

She must think I said water, He thought exasperatedly.

Still, he couldn't argue with the choice. He sipped the chilled liquid slowly, and it tasted like the sweetest nectar on his parched mouth.

When the glass was pulled away, he took a deep breath and tried to speak again.

"My wand...where is my wand?" he asked, voice hoarse.

He's eyes still hadn't adjusted to the dark, he could just see the woman's figure through the darkness. "It's close. But you don't need it, you're safe here." she soothed, and despite everything he trusted her.

He remembered Madam Pomfrey telling him the same thing, but it felt like that was centuries ago. He couldn't fight the tiredness, the exhaustion weighing him down. He fell back into the abyss.

oooOOOooo

The next time he woke, he mind was much clearer. A dim light slipped around the room, and his eyes adjusted slightly. The bedroom was covered in green and silver with dark wood accents. It seemed to be either late or very early in the day based on the light.

He twisted slightly, and groaned at the flash of pain in his stomach. Wait… how did he get here?

He strained his mind, trying to banish the last of the mental fog.

It came back to him in pieces; the attack on the island, the brief duel with the fake Dark Lord, the real Dark Lord tricking him and cursing him in the back. Even in memory, that curse's agony was unique. Than, he was saved from certain death by...Bellatrix?!

He remembered a woman speaking to him earlier, and what with the Slytherin colors all around him he was in Tommy's manor. As he moved his head, he found what he was looking for.

Bellatrix Slytherin was asleep in a chair by the bedside, her wand loosely gripped in her lap.

Harry made sure not to make any noise,and just looked at her. She looked very peaceful asleep. Her feature not twisted into any expression, and her hair was mostly down rather than her usual half up half down style.

It was hard to imagine Lestrange looking like that. The lines on her face had been cut in by a decade and a half in Azkaban, and even in death she hadn't been at peace.

But this woman in front of him wasn't Lestrange. She wasn't the murderer of his godfather and several of his friends. She wasn't an insane criminal. Well, that he knew of.

It appeared he had been taken into the snakes den. Now, what was he going to do about it?

Throughout all his investigations into the Purist he found that Lord Slytherin was strictly above board, as was the rest of the family.

In the wizengamot, he led a group of cenertis conservatives, threading the needle between the few remaining hardliners and Dumbledore's reform faction. From the middle he was able to tip the balance between the two sides and pick winners.

And Harry had no doubt he had ordered Bellatrix to rescue him. That conjuried seabeast that had covered their retreat was probably his work.

Why? And how had he found him at the same time the Purists had? It was doubtless they had some ulterior motive for saving him, and would want something from him.

This was bad, but it could be worse. It was clear they didn't trust him, but at the least they hadn't killed him yet.

Could he fight his way out of here?

The wound through his abdomen still shot pangs up his spine, but it was far less than it had been. He was weak, and his magical core was drained significantly. Without a wand his wandless magic was much more restricted. Bellatrix was asleep, so he might be able to take her out before she woke.

But he doubted Slytherin was careless enough to not have some magical detections on him. If he was nearby, Harry wouldn't last long in his current state.

And even if he could win, should he? Thus far Tommy had given him no reason to think he was evil, and they had a common enemy in the Purists.

Maybe he was being too cynical.

In any case, he was in no position to do anything at the moment.

So, he sat in the dim room for a few minutes, just watching Bellatrix sleep, marveling the newness of it all.

She really was beautiful. From a purely objective standpoint, of course. She must have been around her mid-forties, but looked barely 30. The benefits of magical skincare, I suppose.

Seeming to notice his study she stirred, slowly coming back to awareness. Harry shamelessly kept staring at her.

She blinked her still sleep leadened eyes around, than jolted when her eyes met his his.

His gaze never wavered.

It took a second for Bellatrix to compose herself "Merlin you are creepy. Would it kill you to blink?"

He didn't move an inch. But Bellatrix surprised him. She just rolled her eyes and stood up.

"Well, if you're awake you'll need the healer."

"Why are you sitting here if you can't even help me?" he asked in a dry rasp.

She smiled dangerously at him "So you can speak in complete sentences. And I was here in case you woke up cranky and were stupid enough to get violent."

He raised an eyebrow "And you were sleeping on the job," "Oh forgive me, I was tired after not resting since I pulled your ungrateful ass out of a burning building," she snarked back.

"By the way, what's your name?" she asked quickly, and Harry glared at her silently. She didn't seem surprised by his appearance, or she had already gotten over it.

"Grey." he responded neutrally.

She rolled her eyes again "Look, I'm not in the mood to play games with you. We know you're from an alternate reality, and you're clearly the boy-who-lived from that reality, so why don't you cut to the chase and tell me your real name. We have enough of your blood we can check anyway."

Harry wasn't often surprised, but of course any version of Bellatrix would be able to pull it off.

After a moment of gaping like a fish, he managed to speak "How the hell did you figure-" his throat caught, and he let out a rattling cough.

Bellatrix came next to him, and pressed a glass of water to his mouth.

He drank greedily, though she pulled the glass away after only a moment. He took a steadying breath, and looked up at the witch standing over him.

"Lord Slytherin figured it out. It was the only logical solution once we had all the information." she said, something veiled in her tone.

...oh.

"So Dorea recovered her memory." he said, his voice no longer so ragged. He had given away a lot, and that was the only slip up he had so far.

"Yes, and that reminds me," Bellatrix said, and suddenly leaned down and put her face right in his, her expression stormy.

"I have forgiven you for obviating her, but I swear on my husbands grave if you dare cast anything on her ever again you will suffer agony the likes of which you cannot imagine. Am I clear?" she said dangerously.

"Crystal." he said, trying to mask his amusement. As if there was agony he hadn't suffered already. Bellatrix didn't see it and pulled back, seemingly satisfied.

There was the woman he was familiar with. Though having her defend someone was new.

He sighed "I do regret that. Is she alright?" he asked, remembering the young girl and the terrified look on her face when he'd been about to obliviate her.

Bellatrix pursed her lips "She's having nightmares about it, but otherwise okay."

Harry nodded, than hissed in pain as the movement reminded him of his wound.

"I'll get the healer, but try not to move." Bellatrix said, and moved out of the room quickly.

She definitely still had a sharp tongue.

Perhaps it was better that they knew he wasn't from their world. Simplified things at least.

A moment later she re-entered the room followed by an older man he didn't recognize.

The man didn't speak to him at all, just briskly began casting spells on him. He pulled the sheets back, and Harry saw that the wound on his stomach looked much better. There was no bile, and the flesh was puckered, new pink skin stretching over it, though it would be a ghastly scar.

"How bad was it?" he asked to fill the silence, and Bellatrix went back to her seat.

"Terrible. You are a very lucky man, and you owe the Lord your life. Without his knowledge, I would not have been able to stabilize you. And there is still a risk. The curse came dangerously close to your spine, and if it had been a quarter inch to the left you would never have walked again. As such, you must remain still." the man listed out quickly, not looking at him.

"My life belongs to no one." Harry said harshly, not like the idea of Slytherin having any right to him. Especially now that he knew he was a parseltongue.

"It's just a turn of phrase. No need to get your knickers in a twist." Bellatrix said, and Harry glared at her.

She was unfazed. "I'm still waiting to hear your name. Otherwise, I'll refer to you as Buttercup." she said snarkily.

Harry lay back in the bed, looking at the ceiling. "Is there anyone else who can watch me?"

"Don't bite the hand that feeds you Buttercup. Or heals you in this case." she said, pulling out a book to start reading.

What did I do to deserve this? She's not going to stop this. And it's not like I can hide my relations to the Potters…

"Harry. My name is Harry Potter." he admitted, and Bellatrix looked up at him.

"I figured as much. You're a lot like Rose Potter."

"I was always told I looked just like my father, figured that would give me away."

Bellatrix snorted "Maybe when you were younger, but not now. You'd need at least a little color on your skin, and maybe to have had a decent meal in the last two years."

The corners of his mouth quirked up at her blunt appraisal, before he smothered it. This was Bellatrix, he couldn't be amused by her.

He was going to respond, but the healer grabbed a few vials. "Drink." he ordered.

He did, letting the foul tasting liquids drain down his throat without gagging. If they were going to kill him, they would have done it already. Besides, he had a higher tolerance for potions than people knew. It's why all the potions he made were extra strength.

Now, he needed to sleep. He'd tackle the rest of it later, when he was stronger.

He looked at Bellatrix one last time. It was strange how easy it was to see her as different to Lestrange. Maybe this won't be too difficult.

"Sleep tight buttercup." her voice broke in.

I take it back, this woman is going to drive me insane. Was his last thought before his eyes drifted shut.

oooOOOooo

His third time waking in the room was slightly better. He woke instantly, and slowly cracked his eyes open. The room was much brighter, and he wasn't alone.

In the chair Bellatrix had occupied sat a much smaller figure.

Dorea Slytherin was dressed in dark overly styled robes, clearly attempting to look older than she was. He was struck by how similar she looked to her mother, trying to give him a cold look that wasn't really working.

"Should you be in here?" he asked, sounding much better than he had. His wound also felt better, nearly closed. He doubted Bellatrix would let her daughter around him while they still were unsure if he was violent towards them.

Dorea shrugged "No. But Mother needed to sleep and the healer said you'd be asleep for at least the next few hours. Guess he was wrong."

Harry cracked his neck, moving experimentality "Guess so. How long have I been here?"

"They brought you in 2 days ago. You were apparently close to death for most of it. How are you a parseltongue?" she snapped the question out at him, perhaps trying to trip him up just like her mother had.

Cute.

"I won it in a raffle."

Dorea's face twisted "What's a 'raffle'? Some sort of ritual?" she asked in a confused voice.

Harry sighed. Purebloods. "It's a type of muggle gambling during a large community event."

Dorea just looked more confused "But how would you win a rare magical ability in a muggle event?"

He heavily pulled up his hand to rub the bridge of his nose "I was joking. Or trying to anyway."

"Never heard of 'joking'."

Harry paused, and slowly turned his head over to the girl, who was sporting a shit-eating grin before she broke out laughing at him.

A noise welled out of his throat, and he let out a shaky laugh at the girls antics.

"Not bad Slytherin." he said after she calmed down.

The girl leaned back in the chair pleased with herself "You should have seen your face! Honestly, did you really think I was that stupid?" "Hey, I've met some pretty clueless Purebloods in my time." he defended.

"Hurtful. And you didn't answer my question."

He let the humor drain away. "I can't tell you. Not yet, anyway."

Dorea didn't look pleased, but moved on "What was it like travelling to another reality?" she must have been practicing for this little mock interrogation.

"Aw hell, does everyone know about that?" he exclaimed. She shrugged again "Pretty much. You really gave yourself away when you talked to me." she explained, and Harry rolled his eyes.

That reminded him… "I'm sorry about obviating you, and scaring you like I did." he said as honestly as he could.

Dorea looked away "It's okay. Lets call it even for you saving me from the Purists."

"Deal. And as for my little dimension hop, lets just say I don't want to do it again."

The girl tilted her head at him "You don't seem in a hurry to get back."

Harry laughed hollowly "Nothing to go back to." some of his bitterness seeped in to his tone, and Dorea looked like she wanted to ask something else.

"Look kid, I understand you have a mountain of questions, but I can't tell you much. For my own safety at the moment. I still don't know what your Grandfather intends with me."

Dorea shook her head quickly "He just wants to help you!" she said, clearly wanting to defend the man.

"I don't need any help." he responded on reflex.

Dorea just raised her eyebrows and looked over him, lying prostrate in bed, unable to get up.

Nice work Potter. Way to sell your point.

"Hey, we all have off days." he defended, annoyed this girl had gotten under his skin.

The dry look she gave him communicated just how little she believed that.

Sleep was calling to him, but he was strong enough to reach carefully over to the bedside table and grab a cup of water.

He drank slowly, making sure not overwhelm his still recovering digestive tract.

"Did I exist in your world?" Dorea asked, and that was probably fine to answer.

"Nope."

"What about my father?" she couldn't disguise the hope in her voice.

"No. My version of Riddle never had any children." he answered, and watched as her face fell.

He felt guilt from having to squash her hope, but couldn't think of anything to say that would make it better.

"I'm going to go back to sleep now kid. You should probably go. No offence, but I don't need to make your mother any madder at me." he explained, sinking back into the mattress.

"Fine. But this conversation isn't over. I'm curious what kind of stories you've got." she said, standing up.

Harry barely shook his head "None of them are happy." he whispered, and he just caught the pitying look the girl shot him before his eyes closed.

oooOOOooo

"Breath in… breath out." the healer ordered, and Harry obeyed. The man, who steadfastly refused to give him his name, had been going through a series of tests on him.

He seemed surprised by how quickly Harry was healing. Less than 4 days from the Battle of Caldwell Island (as he referred to it), and he was already ready to get back on his feet.

His magic had fully recovered, and his wandless magic was probably enough to kill both the Healer and Bellatrix if he needed to. But he really wanted his wand and armor back. They seemed to be willing to give him the benefit of the doubt for the time being, and were getting looser around him.

They seemed to like him, though he couldn't figure out why. Bellatrix didn't seem aware of her daughters conversation with him, and the two hadn't interacted since.

After casting a battery of diagnostic charms on him, the healer sighed heavily. "Merlin knows how, but you're healthy enough to walk. Just use a cane and don't be too stupid."

Harry nodded, taking the overly ornate walking stick. It was furnished with silver snakes with emerald eyes. "Good. Now, I thinks it's long past time that I had a word with the master of the house."

The healer gave him an instructable look. "I'll escort you to him. But first put some clothes on. You're meeting a Lord for Merlin's sake," The man said, with a bit of reproach in his voice.

Harry rose from the bed, his muscles stiff. The pain had almost completely abated, though it still felt like he would split in half if he moved too quickly. The Healer sat back, watching as he slowly made his way over to the dresser, making sure not to put too much strain on his body.

He made it to the dresser, and the full length mirror next to him. He twisted, and looked at his body. The wound from the Dark Lords ambush had closed, but had went through his abdomen and out his back. The flesh was puckered up, and still a fresh pink.

It stood out, even among the other scars. He was also surprised by how pale he was. He mostly used lumos charms, which cast a white light, but under the warm sunlight and candles he looked like an inferni.

He reached into the dresser, and his lips twisted slightly.

"There anything in here that isn't embroidered?" he asked sarcastically, looking at the mostly black robes coated with dark green and silver.

"Is there an injury to your eyes as well? Because clearly you can answer that yourself if your sight is undamaged." the Healer snarked at him.

Harry spared him a glare, but grabbed one of the few all black robes. He didn't bother with the internal layers, only throwing on the outermost robe.

Tommy wasn't getting anything past that.

The healer sneered at him, but seemed wise enough to say nothing. He stood, showing Harry his back as he walked swiftly out of the room. Harry followed slowly, silently dreading what was about to happen.

He had no doubt Slytherin would extract a steep price for his aid, and at least his cronies seemed to be relaxed around him. They must have something.

Alright, here's the plan: chat with Tommy, get back my wand and armor and see if I can get out of here without giving him a pound of flesh.

The Healer led him down through the manor, and he felt a figure shadowing him. Bellatrix.

He didn't call her out on it. No need to let them know his senses were that good.

They reached a drawing room, and the healer opened the door for him. "He is waiting for you."

Sitting in the middle of the room were two high backed chairs, and a small table, and a roaring fire.

He felt Slytherin before he saw him. His magical presence saturated the room, filling it with a dark buzzing.

It wasn't as brutal as Voldemort's, which had been tar black, but it wasn't pure white either. But at least Slytherin lacked the jagged sensation of a ripped and torn soul.

So Slytherin hadn't delved quiet as deep into necromancy and soul magic as Voldy. Harry came around the chair and looked down at the man.

It was somewhat surreal. He had seen the handsome young Riddle, and the older snake like Voldemort, who had come back stripped of humanity.

This version had elements of both. His eyes were still darkened from youth, and there was a touch of cold smoothness to his features, but overall he looked much like he had when he was young.

Handsome, with a knowing grin and only a few slight wrinkles on his face.

"So good of you to come down Harry. Please, have a seat." Slytherin said charmingly. Harry narrowed his eyes, but eased himself into the overstuffed seat. He leaned the cane next to his hand, and made sure his face was wiped clean of any emotion.

"Would you like some tea?"

"No. Before we begin, I have a question. How did you figure out I was from an alternate reality so quickly?" Harry asked, honestly curious. He'd figured it would have taken them a very long time to even consider the possibility.

"Simple, the logical contradictions you displayed in your meeting with Dorea. You knew what Yaxley sounded like, and I know that his voice and magical signature has changed drastically over the years so you must have met him recently. Yet you did not know that I had taken my ancestral name or sired a granddaughter. That information is internationally known. Additionally you appeared from nowhere, with no history or connections. Everyone has some ties to the wider world. And I have kept very close track of all known parseltongues, and you are related to none of them. Finally, you are not the first interdimensional traveller I have encountered."

The last point made Harry sit up in his seat.

Lord Slytherin smirked and went on "A rather remarkable Russian mage I met during my youth, who seemed to know things no one else could know. He was the one who told me of the ritual, and apparently in his world the Statue of Secrecy was broken and war broke out between the Wizards and Muggles. He was in the middle of a ritual and was struck by several curses at once just as the Americans dropped a nuclear bomb on top of them. He woke up in our world, and set about preventing the disaster he had seen in his own. He didn't live through the battle, but in examining the circumstances I was able to figure out how it happened, and the unique magic that it left over."

That was...quite the story. It explained everything neatly. Perhaps too neatly. He had to take anything Tommy said with a mountain of salt, but this wasn't that big of a deal at the moment. He knew, and there was nothing else to be done.

"And what about the spell that the Dark Lord hit me with? Not much that can go through two layers of Basilisk scale."

Slytherin's eyes darkened a little "It was the Tra Grevea. A very rare and ancient spell. Atlantean origin and designed to cripple the victim permanently. You were lucky I found you and knew how to excise the corruption to save you. But the upside is the Purists will think you're out of the way. Now, I have to ask: where did you get the scales from?"

Harry leaned back, refusing to show any remorse. "From the guardian of the Chamber of Secrets. She didn't give me any choice," he reasoned, watching as the Dark Lord looked stormy.

Whatever he thought, it was wiped away swiftly and replaced with a false cheer "Well, you won't have to worry about that here."

"Lets just cut to the chase." Harry said coldly, and Slytherins tilted his head at him, mock confusion in his eyes. "I'm not a fool." Harry said quickly, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"You and Bellatrix saving me was not done out of good will. You want something from me, so tell me what your price is."

Slytherin leaned back in his seat, a smirk curving his face. "You are very direct. That won't help you in politics."

"I have no interest in politics. I prefer direct action."

"I can tell. But to answer your question, you are casting this in very stark terms. I admit I have plans for you, but they will aid you as well I assure you."

Harry cocked an eyebrow "Your assurances have no value to me. Just tell me what you want."

Slytherin sighed, shaking his head. "I want your talents to be used to their full potential, and to be directed to their utmost against our common enemy." he said, clearly trying to placate him.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Specifics Tommy, while I'm young." he snapped, and saw a flicker of annoyance cross the Lord face.

"I do not know what exactly what I have done to offend you, and make you think so little of me, but perhaps you can realize that, as you said, I am not your enemy." Tommy said through his teeth.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. But I don't believe your intentions are pure, and I have to do what is best for the war effort. I have no interest in becoming your personal attack dog, not when the Purists are still out there. And when this is done, I don't want to owe you anything. Now, if you really want me to reach my full potential, you'll give me my equipment back and not contact me again," Harry snapped harshly.

Tommy broke eye contact and looked over to the wall "Just what did my alternate version do to you?" he asked quietly, and Harry twitched.

"A lot. But in the end, I was the one left standing. Lets just say I'm weary of any version of you having lasting power, and nothing I have seen of you specifically has changed that view."

Lord Slytherin looked at him with pity, and it made Harry want to beat him over the head with the stupid cane he had to use.

Tommy sat up, and held his hands up in mock surrender. "I understand your hesitation, but I think we both know that if I give you what you want you'll be dead before summer ends. The Dark Lord nearly killed you several days ago, and I have no doubt he'll succeed eventually."

Harry twitched again "I disagree. He surprised me, but it won't happen again. He's not the first Dark Lord I've taken on, and I doubt he'll be the last."

Slytherin looked at him, before shaking his head. "You can't believe that. You have been foolhardy in the last few weeks, attacking the Purists wildly. Why haven't you reached out to any of the old versions of your friends and family?"

The urge to violence was growing, but he managed to bite out "They are not my family."

"Perhaps not, but do you think that they would not accept you? Without them, you have no connections. You are alone."

"It's better if I'm alone. No one else to worry about."

The Dark Lord laughed hallowly "You are deluding yourself. It's not about protecting others, it's about your guilt! You don't want to leave anyone behind when you inevitably get yourself killed!"

Harry surged to his feet, ignoring the pain "Do not pretend you can understand what I've suffered! You arrogant bastard, how dare you?! I lost everyone I ever loved, sacrificed all of who I was for NOTHING!" he roared, tears pricking at his eyes.

He wanted to attack Slytherin, to lash out, but his restraint held.

Harry collapsed back into the chair, anger deflating. Slytherin had gotten under his skin, and provoked a response.

A few deep breaths later, he was recentered. He looked back at the Lord, expression neutral. Slytherin was aprising him closely.

"I apologize. It was wrong of me to assume I knew you. Perhaps we should begin again?" the Lord said, tone placating.

It felt like he was on a lab table about to be dissected.

"I don't see why. You have nothing I want. Just give me my things and I'll go." Harry said tiredly. This meeting had drained him already. He had no base, and without those supplies he'd have nothing.

"I have the names of two dozen Purists still in the public sphere, and locations of several new bases they've created since you started hunting them. Additionally, I can offer you more political information, a base of operation and backup should you need it. With your tactical insight, you should know that with my supplies and logistics you'll be more effective," Slytherin offered, and Harry's eyes narrowed.

"And what do you have to gain from sheltering me? It could make you a target, or cause problems for you with the Ministry."

"I'm already a target of the Purists, and you would be surprised how many in the Wizengamot and the DMLE secretly admire you, and your methods. The War was in a standstill until you arrived. All I want is for my Granddaughter to grow up in a peaceful world. And right now, you look to be the only one able to provide it."

Harry would admit the man was charming. He detected no signs of deception in his face, but that meant nothing. Voldemort had been charming too, able to convince many different groups to throw their support behind him. He didn't want to risk elevating Slytherin any higher.

But at the same time, he had already gotten fucked over by the Purists forces alone, and they were starting to curtail him.

Slytherins aid would be valuable. He was enough of a strategist to accept that he had underestimated his enemy. If the Dark Lord had used a killing curse instead of this Tra Grevea, his story would have ended then and there.

Besides, keeping close to the man would mean he could control how powerful Slytherin was when this ended. If this ended. Besides, if Slytherin revealed him it could make his life much more difficult.

In truth, he had never really considered that he would survive this battle. Fighting alone was a good way to get killed. If Bellatrix hadn't showed up when she had, he'd have died a few days ago. Even if he had escaped, he wouldn't have been able to heal the curse.

Am I really considering this? Making a deal with my worst enemy? Harry asked himself, staring at the familiar yet unfamiliar man. He's not Voldemort. I killed Voldemort years ago. Perhaps it's time to let the past be past.

Besides, where else could he go? The Ministry was useless, and undoubtedly corrupt. Albus might help him, but he would restrict him severely, and hamstring his War effort. He'd be reduced to stunning men, taking them alive so they could break out later.

If Slytherin could simplify the mundane parts of his job, and enable him to keep slaughtering Purists… maybe it could work.

"Speaking hypothetically...if I was to consider any sort of further relationship with your family, I would need certain assurances." he hedged after a few moments of silence.

Slytherin nodded "As I would from you. But I'm sure we can come to an agreement." he said with a smile.

Harry breathed out "Firstly: I need operational autonomy. I pick my targets, my missions, and do it on my own timetable. You aren't my commander, and I don't take orders from you. Secondly: If I should call for help, you will refrain from using too much Dark magic. I don't need Albus getting any more interested in this. By the way, how much does he know?"

Slytherin winced lightly "He knows you're from an alternate reality. Dorea recovered her memories at school, and he would have figured it out eventually. But I agree, he should be kept in the dark."

Harry snarled a little. At least they thought he was connected to Tommy rather than them.

"It'll have to do. Third condition: I work alone, unless calling upon you."

At that, Slytherin shook his head. "I can't agree to that."

"Why not? I'm perfectly capable completing missions without having to drag a bunch of lesser mages around." Harry snarled, not looking forward to having a team again. He buried most of those who'd landed under his command.

"I don't doubt your ability, but that's if everything goes well. If something goes wrong, you'll be alone behind enemy lines as it is. And not a team, just one extremely capable witch." Slytherin soothed, and Harry's brow furrowed.

There was only one person he could be referring to. "Absolutely not. Anyone but her." he said sharply.

A sly grin stretched across Tommy's face "Is there some problem with my daughter in law? She's one of the finest duelists in the country, she'll be a fine partner to you."

Harry shook his head as fast as he could "I don't care how good she is, I won't work with her. Don't you have anyone else?" he pleaded.

This version of Bellatrix might be not be as crazy as the one he had killed, but he hadn't interacted with her enough to be comfortable putting his life in her hands.

In combat trust was paramount, as well as a certain familiarity between the fighters to anticipate actions.

"She is the only option. She's free the whole summer, and if you two are caught by official forces, she is technically a temporary auror and can get you out of trouble."

That brought Harry up short "I didn't know that."

Slytherin nodded, a look of pride on his face "Part of her job at Hogwarts is to protect the children from Purist kidnapping. She's been working with the department for several years now."

Interesting. If the Aurors, including James Potter were willing to work with her she couldn't be totally evil.

"Granted. But what happens when the summer ends? She'll have to go back to Hogwarts."

"We'll settle that when it becomes an issue. The Dark Lord is scared of you, it shows in his attack. He was was willing to throw some of his best troops at you. You're bleeding them dry. With my help, I'm confident the two of you can at very least severely weaken them before other commitments arise."

Harry leaned back, tapping his foot.

Working with Bellatrix would be...challenging. She already seemed rather confrontational with him, and was unlikely to accept his command without trouble.

Fuck it.

"Fine. I'll work with her, but if we aren't clicking soon I reserve the right to kick her to the curb."

"Agreed. Now, as to my stipulations-" "Hold on. I've got one more." Harry cut the Lord off.

He leaned forward "I want a magical oath that when the Purists are defeated, you and I will part ways with no debts between us. We'll be strangers, and you will do nothing to try and keep me in your circle, understood?"

Slytherin looked like he had expected that, but wasn't happy about it. "That is...acceptable. But I will need a vow from you as well, that you will not intentionally harm any of my family or those in my employ. And that when we do part ways, neither side will seek violence on the other."

Harry leaned back, considering the offer. "Very well, but I want an escape option. I have no intention of being forced to look aside if you turn out to be as dark as the Riddle I killed." he said, trying to remind him that he had beat another version of him. And that version had far more combat experience than this one.

"I think we may need to employ a contract goblin, turn this from a vow to a magically binding contract. Anything else?"

"Bellatrix needs to swear to it as well. Especially if I'm going to be relying on her in any measure." Harry finished. He could deal with this, for the moment. Tommy hadn't asked for anything too severe, though he could already feel a headache from working with Bellatrix.

He'd need to have a long talk with her. Once he had his body armor back.

"Very well. I'll have the goblin leave your name blank. Are you a Lord of anything?" he asked, reaching for the tea set. Harry rolled his shoulders. In for a penny, in for a pound.

"Yes. Back in my word I was a duel Lord of Potter and Black."

Slytherin stilled, looking at him closely. "My, things must have been bloody for such a distant relative to gain the house."

Harry grimaced. "It was… ahh, well, if we are going to be doing this, I need to show you why I'm so weary of you. Summon Bellatrix, and grab a pensive." he said.

If he was going to work with them, especially Bellatrix, he needed her to not do certain things, especially that fucking baby voice. He was quietly looking forward to seeing their expressions when they saw their doubles.

oooOOOooo

Bellatrix had been waiting for Lord Slytherin and Potter to finish up, but was surprised when she was summoned in to meet with them.

She didn't know how to feel about the man. He didn't seem to have much in common with his 'family', other than some of Rose Potter's drive and arrogance. She didn't see any of Lily's morality or James anal retentive nature.

She had watched him while he slept, aware that even without a wand he was dangerous. His body told quiet a tale. He was coated in scars, some she recognized like the melting of acid on his left calf, and some she didn't, like three ropey scars that looked like they were made by claws.

He couldn't be older than 30, but his face had been worn down. Even in sleep his muscles were taut as a wire. The nightmares seemed bad. He thrashed around, moaning in pain and nearly crying at one point.

Entering the drawing room, she could taste the tension between the two men, and saw a pensive sitting between them.

"My past is my own, you understand?" Potter said to both of them "I'm only showing you this so you understand my distaste with working with you, and you get nothing else." he said harshly.

Lord Slytherin nodded, and without a word to her dipped his face into the pensive.

Potter spared her a glance "This isn't going to be pretty." he warned before he went into the memory.

She followed suit, and the three fell through the mist, landing in the middle of brutal scene frozen in time. It had been a seaside village, but no longer. The night was painted in orange and red from the fires that roared in most of the houses.

Bodies littered the street, and angry green and red and black spells hung in the air. She looked around and found a few older versions of students she'd taught. Oliver Wood, Seamus, Ronald and Luna were all dressed in the same armor Harry wore, and looked about 17-19. Around them there were others she recognized, and in the center was a younger version of Harry.

He did look much more like his father back then. Tanned skin, windswept hair, but the expression was just as severe. He was frozen in the middle of a sweep, the street in front of him forming into a wave, shooting towards a figure clad in black robes and white mask. More of them were streaming around, surrounding them.

The current version of Harry walked around, looking at the others with a guilty look on his face. "The second Battle of Plockton. We'd won the first one, but the Death Eaters came back, They always came back. And this time they were determined to win."

The scene flung back into motion, loud and chaotic. Men screamed and died, curses filled the air. Bellatrix ducked insticntivly, and watched as one of Harry's men fell to a killing curse. The past Harry ducked below one of the curses, sending a wave of sharpened knives at the 'Death Eater' (and wasn't that an absurd name) killing him.

He reached down and tapped a galleon tied to the palm of his hand, and the Lights troops began to fall back.

"We'd lost by this point. Nothing to do but evacuate." The present Potter said, not looking at her, just watching with a grimace on his face.

"You were going to hold them off?" Lord Slytherin asked, having to yell over the noise. Potter nodded, wincing as the past Harry was clipped by a cutting hex that didn't breach his armor.

From the mist, she heard a low cackle. Past Potter flinched like he'd been struck, and spun around to where the noise had come from.

"Lestrange." the Present Potter hissed under his breath, layering in a vehement hate.

"Aww, is little Harrykin annoyed?" said a mockingly sweet voice that sounded vaguely unhinged.

Both past and present Potter looked furious, and the past version cast at the source of the voice.

From the dust and smoke, a figure emerged into the wane light.

Despite the warning, Bellatrix wasn't ready.

Lestrange looked horrible, clad in thin torn robes, she looked stick thin. Her exposed forearms were wiry and boney. Her head looked too large on her body. Her eyes swivelled around, too wide. She looked like a corpse.

She let out another horrible giggle, spinning around Potters spells. "Little boy, little boy, just a little boy!" she sung, casting a killing curse at him like it was nothing.

Lord Slytherin got closer, face twisted into distaste. Bellatrix felt like she was going to throw up.

Is this what she would have become? This… creature? There was no sanity in its eyes, just madness. She was...broken.

Also, is that what she sounded like? It made her skin crawl.

Present Potter was staring at her more dispassionately, watching the duel more than the fighters.

They seemed evenly matched, but Potter was getting angrier as his spells kept failing to connect, and she kept taunting him.

Bellatrix hated looking at her.

"How..?" she asked, and Potter heard her over the noise.

"Azkaban mostly." he said, studying her closely. She blanched a bit.

The other Light fighters were all clustered around a point, and seemed to be watching their commander closely while fending off the Death Eaters.

"Awww, you seem angry little boy. Miss your dogfather?" Lestrange asked, smiling unnaturally wide.

Past Harry let out a roar of rage and launched himself at the woman, and Bellatrix thought about what she was saying. Dog father? Did she mean?

"She killed Sirius?" she asked, and Potter winced and nodded.

She'd never loved her cousin, but to kill him? That wasn't something that she had seriously considered.

Before she could ask anything else, there was a low rattling boom, and Lestrange let out a loud cackle.

The Death Eaters pulled back, and a massive conjured snake hurled forward. Potter was able to deflect it away from the Light, and a look of fear crossed his face. With a swirl of black robes, a new figure emerged from the darkness.

She didn't recognize him. He stood tall and thin, with deathly pale skin that was stretched over his skull. Hairless, with a slit nose and thin mouth, and ruby red eyes. He was holding Diggle in magical bonds next to him.

The Light fighters began to panic.

"Lord Voldemort." Present Harry said, and Lord Slytherin gaped like a fish.

No, it can't be-

"That's me?!" Lord Slytherin yelled, and she couldn't remember the man ever losing composure. She could see why.

Clearly Voldemort had dived into the darkest recesses of magic.

"Harry, we have to go!" Weasley yelled. Past Potter looked torn, she could see he wanted to throw himself at the two dark mages. Voldemort cast crucio at his prisoner

Potter moved forward, clearly prepared to attack, only for Ron to lung forward and grab him. "WE HAVE TO GO!" he roared, and Harry had to deflect some dark spells.

He looked at the screaming man, and Lestrange laughing at him.

He let out a pained yell, but turned and joined the remainder of his troops, and with a word they vanished.

The memory dissolved around them, onto a backdrop of white mist.

"They sent him back to Hogwarts in 6 boxes." Potter said, watching the two. "Now do you see why I don't trust you?" he asked harshly. Bellatrix nodded faintly, while Lord Slytherin just looked at where the other version of him was, a look of guilt on his face.

The three were unceremoniously thrown out of the pensive, and Bellatrix swayed around.

Potter leaned back in his chair.

"You knew the name." he said calmly to Lord Slytherin.

"I'll admit, I had toyed with the idea, a youthful fantasy of revenge. I haven't thought about it for decades. How, dow did that happen?" he said quietly.

"It's a long story, but to make it short Riddle was never let into high society, and wanted to fight his way in." Harry said neutrally. "Now, are you still insisting we work together?"

Slytherin nodded, seeming to regain his composure "Yes, I am. And remember that I have done nothing to you beyond save your life, as has Bellatrix. Think of this as a fresh start."

Harry snorted inelegantly "I've had a few fresh starts, and none of them stuck. I doubt this one will be any different." he said with melancholy.

With a deep breath, he stood. "I'll be going." he grabbed the cane and made for the door. "Wait." Slytherin said as Harry passed him "Here. A token of my trust." he held up Harry's wand, hidden in his robes

Harry wasn't proud enough to not snatch it out of the Lord's hand, gripping it like a lifeline.

"I'll bring you the contract within a few hours. Best get some rest so the Healer doesn't bite both of our heads off."

Bellatrix waited until he was gone before asking "So he'll work with us?"

"Under some conditions. I'll need to have a contract written up, and you'll need to sign on as well."

"Why?" she asked, somewhat hesitant. So far the only people who knew Harry was here were the family, the Healer and one of the guards.

Lord Slytherin turned his head, eyes guarded "You'll be fighting alongside him."

She stilled. "You didn't think to ask me first?" she bit out, affronted.

"I wasn't sure about him yet. But I think the two of you will work well together, and he needs connection," Lord Slytherin said guiltlessly.

He kept talking "He needs to have an equal, someone to challenge him and his worldview. Don't give him an inch, don't demure. But don't antagonize him either. I believe we can wear him down, and convince him to stay after the Purists are dealt with."

Ignoring how he had brushed off her concerns, she asked "Why is it so important he stays? Why are you willing to bend over backwards for him?"

Slytherin looked back into the fire "Do you trust me?"

Bellatrix grit her teeth, seeing his deflection. It wasn't that she was opposed to taking the fight to the Purists, but to be promised to him without even being asked was insulting.

But, at the end… "Yes my Lord. I trust you." she said quietly.

He nodded once "Good. Then trust me when I tell you that it is vital he remains. I have no doubt that once he gives his word, he will keep it. But he'll be cold to you at first. Additionally, he cannot use the manor as his main base. It's too public, and too well known. The two of you will operate out of your townhouse in London."

Bellatrix was shocked again. She hadn't lived in that home since… and now she was going to move back in with Harry? What exactly did he expect her to do with him?

Her mouth twisted in distaste, but she said nothing against it. The Lord would not bend.

"Very well. I trust you'll look after Dorea?" she said, heart already clenching at being apart from her daughter. "Naturally. And it's not like you're going overseas. You'll be able to come by anytime."

Bellatrix stood gracefully, and gave him a slight bow. I hope this will be worth all the trouble.