(( This is a compilation of a roleplay between myself and HeroComplexing. I played Tom, while my companion played Harry. Their writing is incredible, and I would highly recommend that you follow them.

My sweet, adorable buddy Grace Lee collected most of the posts together for me, so I owe her a huge thanks. She's an incredible writer as well.

My goodness, I'm so floored by the support that I've gotten on this fanfic. Thank you so much, everybody! :) I've been giving some serious thought as to how I'm going to end this storyline recently. I know what parts of the story are most important to me, but I'm curious about what parts of this story are most compelling to you, as a reader. If you could please take a moment to complete the following statement for me in the comments, I'd be so very grateful:

"I read this story because..." or "I am most interested in..."

If you don't have time to comment or leave kudos, I completely understand and I thank you for reading through this anyway. Please take care! ))

The alcohol was quick to lull Harry to sleep. It wasn't as rejuvenating a slumber as it would have been, were he sober, and it was further disturbed by dreams of the war. He couldn't combat the assault of memories of Remus and Fred and Ron and Hermione, of their slack faces and vacant eyes; he couldn't force them into the recesses of his mind like he did when he was awake. Even in his dreams he was never able to be the savior his friends had needed. Voldemort was always there to stop him before he could deflect the fatal attack, and perhaps this was his minds way of protecting him from waking up and believing, for just a moment, he had managed to save them. If was fortunate he had consumed enough alcohol to render him motionless throughout the night. He emitted a few sounds, a whimper, a mumble, but there was no movement to indicate he was having a nightmare.

Surprisingly, he awoke the next morning with memories of Ginny at the forefront of his mind. He faintly recalled the sensation of her long fingers running up his forearms and the press of her soft, pink lips on his own as he opened his eyes, skin tingling and goose pimpled as though she really had been there. His cheeks were hot when he reached up to touch them.

He spent some time staring up at the ceiling before he was able to will himself to stand. The rest of the day was uneventful. As promised, he took Tom out clothes shopping and bought himself something fashionable so Tom wouldn't be embarrassed to be seen with him in public. It was a nice thick black cloak with green silk sewn into the inside. He brought himself a blue sweater vest and a formal ensemble of dress pants, shoes, and a shirt to wear underneath.

They remained in the village for the additional three days before Harry set up camp on the fringe of a nearby forest. It was warm enough for other people to have the same idea, so there were neighbors on either side of them. Harry had introduced himself to them as 'Harry Riddle'; it seemed easier than trying to explain why a sixteen year old and a man in his early twenties (soon to be twenty three) were sharing a tent. Harry didn't mention that his birthday would be soon. He had no intention of celebrating it.

It was nearing the end of July when Harry finally decided it time to take Tom to Diagon Alley. He'd promised Tom books, after all, and he had yet to make good on that promise. They made a bee-line for Flourish and Blotts upon arriving, and Harry handed Tom a pouch full of galleons before they stepped inside. "Buy as many books as you want," he said, elbowing the door open. The owner, a portly man with a broad smile, looked up from a list he was examining as they entered. Harry waved a hand in greeting.

"We'll get some lunch after," he continued. "If you need some new robes, we can get those too. Can't have you wearing the same thing day after day."

Xx

Their first night at the Three Broomsticks seemed ages in the past now, but Tom could still remember with striking clarity the flashes he had gotten of Harry's dreams. The wine had knocked him out for only a few short hours before he found himself dizzyingly awake once again, and not quite sober yet either but certainly not sloshed. Being that he was not making eye contact or casting the spell itself, he was relying on his inherent ability to read one's thoughts, which was unpredictable at best without a wand to channel it. Dead bodies littered Harry's dreams, with pale, lifeless eyes that were too lovingly defined for him not to have known them in life.

This would explain why Harry had traveled back in time alone. Whatever Tom's future self had done, he had done so with deadly precision.

Tom could not stand the sight of another dead figure after their already traumatizing experiences that day. His abilities were clumsy in his still inebriated state as he clung to something, anything more pleasant than memory of a rotting corpse. The sensation he found in response had been foreign, like a sunrise caught perpetually upon cresting over land. It felt…warm. Not hot, or hungry or burning like the power that continually smoldered within him, looking for release. It was just soft and warm and easy. Tom held to that thought, that feeling, with all his might as he gradually felt his anxiety ebb away.

The next morning, he felt remarkably pristine, despite the fact that he had not showered yesterday. Strange.

The time following had been interesting. If Tom was going to be entirely honest with himself, they had been an adventure of sorts. Comfortable. Being raised in a city and within a city for most of his life thus far, the prospect of being out camping had not been a pleasant one until he actually just 'gave it a go'. Surprisingly, he hadn't minded it in the slightest. Magic, of course, made their tent much more hospitable than his expectation, and their neighbors were just as dense and friendly as he and Harry needed them to be. They never questioned the fact that two young men were randomly camping by the edges of Hogsmeade for the summer months. Perhaps they had assumed that this was some sort of holiday for the both of them, or maybe that they were brothers (Tom and Harry did look strikingly alike at times), but they graciously had not deemed it proper to be asking questions.

Tom could have cried for joy when Harry finally gave into his nagging that they needed to get new reading material for him. Perhaps the fact that Harry had found him trying to nick books from their unsuspecting neighbors had been a sign that he should probably make good on his promise. There was also the fact that there were school books to be bought and supplies to be re-filled before the new academic year began.

Was Tom even going to be going to school? Damned, if he knew.

Either way, the duo had seen fit to go shopping. Taking the small bag of golden coins from Harry, he quirked an eyebrow at him. "Well, Mr. Riddle ." He began, smirking down at Harry. "I'm glad to see you've finally decided that I need new distractions. I will be certain to find-"

"Tom?" Said a young man's voice behind him.

Tom recognized the voice before even deeming it appropriate to greet him. Within a heartbeat of a moment, Tom's entire stance seemed to shift from grinning down at Harry, joking and teasing him fondly, to settling into a calm, composed demeanor. He turned to smoothly face the newcomer.

"Afternoon, Lestrange." He greeted, his voice as even as his composure. "This is a pleasant surprise."

Lestrange was a slight lad with limbs a bit too long for his growing body to handle in a way that was not clumsy. Yet he smiled with surprising fondness as Tom greeted him. Lestrange adjusted his black robes as though displaying them. "I'm just here getting my school gear. I didn't expect to see you at all." He continued.

"That's why it's called a ' surprise ', Lestrange." Tom sighed.

"Right you are, as usual. Dolohov!" Lestrange cried out. "Dolohov, you're not going to believe who's here!" He continued, looking up at Tom admiringly.

"Is that Tom, I heard?" Called a disembodied voice from their left.

"No, it's the bloody Minister for Magic. Of course it's Tom !"

Dolohov emerged briskly from the rows of books. On the shorter side, he stepped speedily along as though trying to make up for lost distance. He carelessly knocked several stacks of books aside on his way. "Aha! It is you! Rather early in the shopping season to see you along these ways." He said in a voice which seemed so accustomed to speaking quickly that he blurred the words together into a casual slur. His wide smile did nothing to soften the wicked glint in his deep brown eyes. "How have you been, Tom? You look like you've lost weight." He asked, giving Tom an appraising look.

"I am quite well." Tom answered smoothly. He is voice seemed to command attention even when he spoke softly. "It's been a very busy summer. As usual." He gave Dolohov a look of pointed annoyance. "Don't be a child. Clean it up." Tom gave a small gesture to the books strewn across the floor in Dolohov's wake. The other boy groaned softly before dragging himself back to the row he exited from, picking up his mess as he went. Tom turned back to Lestrange. "What brings the both of you here?"

"Walpurga was taking her brothers shopping. She decided to bring us along for company." Lestrange shrugged easily, his pristinely kept black robes falling neatly into place, a clear sign of custom tailoring. "I think she had been hoping to catch you here if she had us Knights along. She's up by the register now."

Tom barely had a chance to roll his eyes in response before Dolohov rejoined their small group, now giving Harry the same appraising glance and unreadable smile. "This is Harry." Tom motioned to his companion, giving him a small nod as though he deserved their approval. They followed suit, looking to him with attentive interest. "He's been teaching me a great deal about survival and combat magic." He turned to Harry now that he seemed satisfied with the rapt attention and consideration that was given to him. "Harry, this is Antonin Dolohov and Arcturus Lestrange." He continued, gesturing to each of them in turn.

Xx

While Tom was occupied with his friends, Harry attempted to merge with the shadows cast by the bookshelves. Much to his chagrin, Tom introduced him before he could reach them. He knew his smile was strained as he turned to address the boys.

"Nice to meet you," he said, as polite as ever.

The tallest of the boys – Lestrange – regarded his messy hair with a creased brow. He self-consciously tucked some of it behind an ear. "Nice to meet you too, mister…?" Lestrange offered Harry his hand, and Harry took it, giving it a firm shake. Dolohov followed suit. "Not a Longbottom, are you Harry? I wouldn't admit that right away either." Dolohov snorted at this comment. Harry knew it was a rhetorical question. Neither of them were actually expecting Harry to be a Longbottom; they were trying to draw him into their little group with derision at a 'blood traitor'. However friendly their intentions, Harry's expression still went cold.

"If I were, I wouldn't be ashamed of it." He had a great deal of respect for the Longbottom's. "The Longbottom's are an honorable family. They shouldn't be the punch line of your joke."

"Oh. I didn't realize you were friends," said Lestrange stiffly. He seemed affronted by Harry's lack of comradery.

Dolohov piqued up with a, "What family are you from, then?"

"I'm not pureblood, if that's what you're wondering."

"I…I see." Lestrange's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper as turned to speak to Tom. "You didn't hire a mudblood , did you? If you needed a teacher I would have gladly provided some reputable names."

The boys were now visibly indignant at having a mudblood – even one hand-picked by Tom – speak to them as though they were children. This was exactly why Harry had wanted to flee at the sight of them. He'd know this would happen. He pissed off pureblood supremacists and pureblood supremacists pissed off him; it was the natural order of things

"Well, this has been a great chat, really great, but I ought to be going. I'll see you at the parlor, Tom." He turned as he spoke, reaching for the exit, and bumped into a solid mass before he could pass through the threshold. The sight of who he'd bumped into gave Harry a pause. Not because they were clearly a very rich, regal man, but because their appearance was so reminiscent of Sirius' that it was uncanny.

From the back of the room the store owner crowed a greeting. "Lord Black, so good to have your patronage-!"

"I'm not here for that, Pernickle," said the man, his grey eyes rapt on Harry. "I came to inform Lestrange and Dolohov here that lunch will be starting soon, but imagine my surprise when I see they're being harassed by a mudblood . Are you going to allow such a things to happen in your store, Pernickle?"

"Er, of course not-!"

"I was just leaving," Harry interjected, jutting his chin up at the man. "If you would kindly move out of the way, I'll do just that."

Black's lips pursed. "The days your lot were made to wait outside while a better quality of patronage shopped were so much more palatable. You people are forgetting your place."

"It's right here, and the wizarding world is starting to acknowledge that so you ought to try doing the same, Lord Black." He maneuvered his way around Black and made a hasty exit. Dolohov, Lestrange, and Lord Black turned their attention on Tom once he had fled the scene, and while Dolohov and Lestrange seemed – as they ought to – rather uncomfortable with what they had just witnessed, Black's expression was one of barely restrained fury. The smile he presented Tom was so tight as to almost look like a grimace.

"Always a pleasure to see you, Mr. Riddle. Will you be joining us for lunch? Perhaps you could regale us with the tale of what it is you've been up to this summer."

Xx

Tom wasn't aware that Harry was German. Frankly, that had to be the only reason he had decided to bomb Tom's entire cover.

Damnit, Harry.

It was a testament to Tom's skill at keeping his carefully constructed composure that he even managed to stay silent through the entirety of the disjointed conversation. Before he had been able to jump in and lie on Harry's behalf about his last name, Harry charged in with a tactless statement and his own brand of righteous idiocy before almost managing to end that horrifying display by storming off.

And directly into Arcturus Black.

In a rather grand show of standing, Arcturus verbally faced off with Harry in an exchange which left neither of them looking startlingly well, but perhaps Black just a touch worse for wear. He certainly seemed to be steaming at the ears when he turned his attention to Tom, gritting his teeth and asking for an explanation through a thin veneer of politeness.

"Yes, Tom! What was all that? He sounds like a right crusader for all their disgusting breed!" Dolohov muttered darkly.

"Are you sure you're quite well?" Lestrange added softly, tilting his head in concern at Tom. "You look paler than usual, I think." He added, taking a look at his hand and then Tom again, as if comparing or tempted to reach out and touch his head to test the temperature.

"Tom, how could you allow yourself to be around such individuals?" Black added, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Lord Black." Tom looked deeply relieved to speak with him. He looked at the older man imploringly. "I hope you'll forgive my companion. He's not quite…right in the head. A descendent of the Bullstrode line, and you know how spirited they can be when disciplining their children, particularly at a young age. If you look closely, you can still see the scars on his head." Tom expanded, pity clear in his voice as he shook his head slowly, looking deeply troubled. "So much promise in his abilities, if he could only get himself straight, you understand? Please let me handle this situation. I'll be sure to explain to him in vivid detail what is proper behavior, Lord Black."

Lord Black's proud features seemed to soften minutely appeased with Tom's humility and careful choice of words. Tom gave him a gracious nod before murmuring, "Thank you. As always, your wisdom and understanding is appreciated."

Lord Black nodded and moved past Tom and the boys without a second glance to find Walpurga and her brothers. Tom had half a mind to retreat to the door, but his two companions did not seem to be even half as fooled by Tom's reasoning as the 'lord' that had just passed them by.

Tom didn't panic. He could always try abandoning Harry. He could pin the entire outburst on his caretaker, claiming he had no idea that Harry was such a fool to believe in such values! Tom should leave him immediately and rejoin his fellows here. This of course, presented the impossibility of leaving Harry completely, which would render him quite dead due to the vows. Scratch that.

"Not right in the head, eh? Now that I'm thinking on it, your friend was acting very particular from the moment we saw you, backing away and all that." Dolohov chuckled, his wicked grin returning easily. "Trying to escape, maybe?"

"Don't be an idiot, Dolohov." Lestrange snapped. "Though, I'm curious as to where you met him. Really, I could have connected you with-"

"Maybe we should hunt him down for a good thumping, eh? Beat the sense back into him?" Dolohov gave a bark of laughter.

"But Tom, what's going on? Really! This is absolutely crazy. You must return with my family, have a good lie in. If he was as mad as you say, you shouldn't have ever let him be around you." Lestrange fettered on, worrying the edges of his sleeves.

" Gentlemen ." Tom began, loud enough to knock them from their conversation and snap their attention to the sliver of anger in his tone. "I would have thought that each of you would have performed better, but you have all failed me. And when I spoke so highly of you both…" Tom trailed, looking in disappointment at each of them in turn. Their silence settled into confused glances at one another.

"Harry had said that none of you would be able to detect his lies, and he was correct. Both of you fell into his trap without even sensing that there was something amiss. Without even trying to read your opponent and not just his words." Tom glared icily forward, his dark eyes boring into Dolohov and then Lestrange viciously, their resolve was rapidly shrinking in Tom's wake. Each of them knew personally what happened when Tom was displeased.

"He claimed that even my most talented friends would question me at the first chance they had, and as it turns out, he was absolutely right." Dolohov coughed uncomfortably, his wicked smile becoming a sheepish, sweaty grin, Lestrange looked overwhelmingly uncomfortable, as though he had swallowed something particularly spiny. The pain that came with failure was not a memory which either of them would soon forget. "Now, if you'll excuse me, gentlemen , I must go clean up after the lot of you. Yet again." Tom finished angrily before smoothly moving around the group and retreating from the store.

Tom rushed off to find Harry at the parlor. He urgently grabbed the other man by the arm. "We're leaving immediately. We'll have to return another time for supplies. If they find us-" He broke off with a frustrated huff, shaking his head and glaring at Harry.

"Come on, let's go!"

Xx

Harry had bought himself a vanilla ice-cream cone with chopped nuts, caramel sauce, and a perpetually moving pinwheel stuck into its side. He was rather sad to have that ice-cream jolted out of his hand when Tom grabbed him. Frowning down at the splatter of white, pink, and orange on the sidewalk, he tried to shake Tom off his arm.

"What're you going on about? It's just a bunch of your friends. They won't do anything to cause a scene, and even if they tried …"

Harry was a fully seasoned wizard. If they approached him with the intention of inflicting harm, he'd be able to deal with them with ease. Lord Black, on the other hand… he glanced over his shoulder, and it just so happened that Lord Black was standing at the exit to Flourish and Blotts, peering across at Tom and Harry. When he noticed Harry noticing him, he smiled in the same wide, toothy way Bellatrix often had, his grey eyes alight with malice . That was not the expression of someone who intended to let bygones be bygones.

"Er, you know what? I've changed my mind." Now it was him grabbing Tom by the arm, dragging him bodily along in the direction of the fireplaces. "Let's floo to Hogsmeade. I think there's a place there that lets you borrow books to read while you eat. You won't be able to take them home-" That comment doubled as a warning. "But it's better than nothing, right?"

Xx

"Arcturus Black." Tom's voice was weighted with frustration and anger as he sensed the fear in Harry's voice more than heard it. "You certainly know how to choose your enemies. I could have saved you from a slip up with the dynamic duo, Dolohov and Lestrange, but insulting an elder of the Black family is a mistake." Tom finished heavily, walking briskly along with Harry, allowing the other man to lead him, all the while thinking of different ways for them to escape the mess that Harry had currently gotten him into. (He had to admit, he was rather sorry that he wasn't able to get an ice cream. That one Harry had dropped looked heavenly.)

Giving away his blood status and deeply rooted beliefs would make it incredibly hard for Tom to explain his current situation to those at school. Up until that point, all of his beliefs had been gaining power, ensuring immortality and pureblood supremacy. Most of that triad had been put on indefinite hold thanks to the green-eyed wonder boy at his side, and he had hardly any time to consider exactly how that would affect his time at school until this very second. Survival had been his prime concern, but now the rest of his life up until that point was coming back to slap him in the face.

This was simply a small taste of the creative dodging he would have to be doing when he returned. Oh, damn it all.

"I would never dream of taking the books home, Harry." Tom lied smoothly, trying not to cast a glance over his shoulder, trying not to feel the impending sense of doom that was the mental presence of Arcturus Black, boring down at them from Flourish and Blotts, wearing that mad smile like a cat who has found two lame mice to stalk after. Tom could smell insanity on him almost as strongly as he sensed his power. In retrospect, Black might have been able to say much the same about Tom.

One thing was certain. Tom and Harry were getting the hell out of there. When they finally reached the fireplaces, Tom looked expectantly at Harry. "To Hogsmeade then?" He asked with an increasing sense of urgency.

Xx

"So I was just supposed to stand there and let him belittle me?" Fat chance. Harry reserved polite behaviour for those who deserved it, and Lord Black shared a category with Lucius Malfoy as deserving nothing but derision. Both were (or had been, in Lucius' case) adults too stuck in their ways to change. Tom's friends, on the other hand, were young enough to benefit from a positive influence in their life. Harry had no intention of guiding them to the extent he was Tom, but he wouldn't shy away from telling them when they were in the wrong.

He reached into his cloak for the floo powder. Though still deep, the pockets of this cloak weren't enchanted, so it didn't take him long to dig out the correct pouch. He grabbed a handful of powder and reached for the nearest vacant fireplace. Some were labelled in, and some out; you didn't want to step into the wrong one or you would end up being squashed by arrivals.

Behind them he could sense Arcturus Black's pursuit starting to slow, his electric presence developing into a steady, patient thrum. Apparently he had come to the realization he wouldn't be able to reach Tom and Harry before they used the floo network. Harry wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he threw his powder into their chosen fireplace and shouted their destination, "Hogsmeade", and proceeded into the flames with Tom at his heels. He maintained a tight grip on Tom until several minutes after arriving in Hogsmeade, wanting to be ready to flee if Lord Black decided to pop out of the fire after them.

Thankfully, he didn't.

"Doesn't make much of an effort to hide the fact he's a creep, does he?" Harry smiled in an effort to lighten the mood. They were safe now. "But I suppose he's rich enough not to have to bother."

Xx

There was just a bit too much movement going on for Tom to answer. He was finally far away enough from the presence of Lord Black to cast his glance around to check for pursuers. Lord Black had been powerful enough to sense his mental presence, like a cloyingly static electric charge that left the tinge of ozone in its wake, but his fellow students and 'Knights' were not nearly powerful enough to cast the same sensations. If they were close on Tom and Harry's heels, Tom's best chance of stopping an attack was to keep them in their sights and physically avoid them.

Yet again, they seemed to have dodged a bullet for the first time in ages. No one seemed to be particularly concerned with their presence. Tom felt himself being yanked forward by his companion.

After hurtling through the Floo network, gripping Harry's hand tightly, they exited in a flurry of ash and soot, casting paranoid glances behind them as Tom straightened his robes and dusted himself off. He fixed his hair as he followed along at Harry's side, rolling his eyes in distaste at the fact that the other man didn't seem at all concerned with the mess on his brand new robes. With a disgruntled huff, he set himself to dusting off the shoulders of the shorter man, and then his back.

" Yes! That's precisely what you should have done. He's an idiot, Harry!" Tom explained. "Even if you had just left him to spout what he would, he would have been satisfied, and you would have had the upper hand if a battle were to happen between you. He would have assumed himself unparalleled on the field of combat because he was left with the impression that he had won previously, and you would have been able to catch him by surprise and destroy him." Tom explained, clearly exasperated, as though he were explaining that a square peg goes into a square hole. "Harry, you must learn to think ahead! You can rest assured that each of them were . Lord Black assumes that I'm an intelligent pawn he can plant in the Ministry later. I let him do so because it has served my purposes thus far. He knows nothing of my skills!" Or family background. H is stomach gave an uncomfortable twist out of anxiety. Or he might just be hungry. That too.

Xx

Harry slid his hands into his pockets, a frown marking his forehead. He felt rather like a chastised child, and it didn't help that Tom was fretting over his appearance like a mother hen. "How was I supposed to know all that? I thought he'd whine about me to his family and move on. Didn't know he'd want to attack me. It's a bit much, isn't it?"

He anxiously gnawed on the inside of his cheek and only stopped once he had drawn blood. Sucking it into his throat, he turned to guide Tom into the nearby library-café. A bowl of soup and a hot mug of butterbeer would calm their nerves.

"We'll go back early tomorrow, just before opening time. We won't be disturbed that way," Harry said, and then withdrew his wand, performing a simple cleaning spell to fix their robes. He didn't want the soot to smudge. These were the only clean robes he had and he needed them to be presentable when he started going in for job interviews.

"By the way," he continued, because he didn't really want to have to talk about his failings. "I'll be looking around for work soon. Once I have a steady job we should be able to rent a cabin."

Xx

"No. It wasn't a bit much. Harry, you don't understand these people. Half of them are not quite hinged and they're teaching their children to be just as mad." Tom elaborated with a sigh of exasperation. "You may think that the reason that most of them join with the Knights is that they believe in pureblood ideals, and yes, that certainly is part of it." He paused, as if trying to think of the best wording.

"But, a huge aspect of their loyalty is all tied in being a part of something greater, something powerful that makes them feel special or appreciated. It's an aspect that their families never provided, no matter how proud of them they might have been. All they can depend on from people like Lord Black is unfulfilled expectations and constant anxiety to overachieve. I offered them purpose and power." Tom seemed more pensive as he followed along with Harry. It was almost as though he seemed to wake from a daze when Harry cleaned their robes, not to say he wasn't grateful for the gesture.

"I could have done that from the beginning if you would just give me my wand back." He reminded Harry for what must have been the hundredth time, giving him a beautiful, compliant smile. When they entered the library, Tom was instantly distracted from his hunger by the presentation of books. Glorious books, of every shape and size, hiding in corners, stacked up on tables, lining the walls in the back of the establishment. He tried not to look too eager as he darted to the back to explore the possibilities presented.

He returned with a stack that nearly reached up to his neck. He set it down gingerly on a table before pulling the top one off to give to Harry: Quidditch, The Sport and the Culture . Somehow he knew even without mentally reading him on this subject, a Gryffindor of his build and attitude must be a jock of some variety. There was even something in the purposeful way he walked that seemed to speak to his athletics. "I could be such a big help to you. I could even get myself a job as well, you know."

Xx

"It's a little late to be telling me that now," he replied, trying not to sound petulant. "Don't worry about it. He's not going to do anything to you, is he? And I can look after myself." Harry was determined not to let Lord Black's thirst for retribution bother him. If he could deal with Voldemort for over a decade, he could deal with an over-zealous pureblood.

While Tom was busy taking his pick of literature, Harry ordered them a jug of butterbeer and two bowls of steaming hot chicken and vegetable soup. The table he chose for them was squashed into a corner, directly behind a bookshelf. It provided no leg room, but the armchairs were comfortable enough to make up for that. He accepted the offered book and sat down with his legs tucked beneath his thighs, like he had occasionally done during winter in the Gryffindor common room.

The subject of Tom's wand was one he had been avoiding. Typically when it was brought up, he would grunt or shrug or offer some other noncommittal gesture. That didn't discourage Tom, evidently.

"It'd be pointless for you to get one so close to the new school year. You'd be back at school before you could finish orientation." He put his book aside and reached into his robe pocket, groping around briefly before coming up with Tom's wand. It felt at home in his hand. "As for this, you're going to need a wand for school, so I might as well give it to you now rather than later." He extended it to Tom. "It currently recognizes me as its owner, however, so if you decide to try anything…" A beat of silence. "I'll let you disarm me before you go back to school, of course."

Xx

Could Lord Black do anything to him? Interesting question .

Technically, the law directly prevented Lord Black from even thinking of harming Tom due to his age, but there was nothing keeping him from hounding his every step. Now that he had a scent of something suspicious, he would not want his prime candidate for 'political' control to be sullied by anything that might even seem like an 'extremist' mentality, let alone a half-blooded one. Harry was virtually unknown in every standard, mostly because he didn't legally exist in their time period. Tom was very much a viable target. Being that Tom was also in a state of vulnerability and unable to perform magic to defend himself (being captured as well as being 'underage' in the eyes of the Ministry), he was at a severe disadvantage.

Would Lord Black try anything? Tom paused, closing his eyes as his thoughts worked quickly, trying to see the plans forming within the darkness of his mind.

No, not immediately. The information that had slipped with their chance meeting could only be useful in the correct setting. To confront him out where no one was there to witness it would serve no purpose aside from making Lord Black look like an adult physically assaulting a teenager. He would wait until he could corner him with words, rather than weapons, where he knew he could be surrounded by like-minded individuals, probably back at school.

Tom swallowed hard. Suddenly his true home, Hogwarts, was looking a great deal more sinister than it ever had before. If his followers were to turn on him there, who did he have left to depend on? If they found out about his father, his family, his real bloodline…

Harry's reluctance to let him get a job was understandable, but he felt his stomach make another tight knot of anxiety at the thought of having to return to school. He eased himself into the cozy corner seat which Harry had chosen for the two of them, trying to calm his panicked thoughts when he looked down at something which he never would have thought to expect, Harry handing over his wand.

He blinked before rather eagerly taking the weapon back, smiling a bit too widely and excitedly before training himself back into his usual cool composure. There was certainly a part of him that resented the warning but curiosity and concern overtook it quickly. Wand allegiances? How did Harry swap it from him? Could he possibly own two wands?

Tom leaned close to Harry, speaking in a low, conspiratorial whisper. "How did you steal its allegiance?" He asked, running his fingertips fondly over the wood with a touch of concern as though it may need healing somehow. "Was it…the vows ?"

Xx

At Tom's question, Harry shook his head. The vows had nothing to do with it. He'd won the wand from Tom when he'd disarmed him. The use of expelliarmus typically wasn't enough to change the alliance of a wand, but Harry retained footsteps of Tom's very soul and was the owner of its brother; it was inevitable that it would regard him as an acceptable owner.

"Okay, first of all, I didn't steal anything. It willingly aligned with me." That was an important distinction to make. "Wands have personalities, and yours… well, I guess it likes me. Not all wands are like that, mind. Some of them have higher standards-"

"Your drink, sirs!"

He turned to the source of the voice, and a perky blonde waitress was smiling dazzlingly at them. It was such a pretty smile that Harry immediately started to feel self-conscious about how he was sitting, awkwardly pulling his legs out from under himself.

"Thanks," he said while helping her ease the jug onto the table. She managed the glasses by herself.

"And thank you," she replied, sending her tray floating back to the kitchens. "I believe I've seen you two around here before. Is that your brother?"

Harry glanced at Tom. "Oh, no, I'm his - older cousin. My names Harry Riddle, and this is Tom." He gestured to Tom, which was rather unnecessary, but Harry wasn't exactly the most suave person in the world when it came to women. He wasn't the most suave person in the room , for that matter. "He's going to be starting his last year at Hogwarts soon," he continued. "Proud Slytherin, this one."

"Ohh, I went there myself! I was a Hufflepuff." The lady cast Tom a broad grin. "Good luck on your N.E.W.T.s! They're absolutely horrid, but you look a smart chap. I'm sure you'll do fine." She gave Harry a friendly nudge. "And make sure to send him plenty of letters! Having something to read that isn't exam related keeps you sane."

"Of course. I'll be sending him a letter every fortnight." Her bright personality was absolutely infectious. If there was a vacancy, perhaps he could work here. That would be nice. "Say, would I be able to talk to you after work?"

"Oh." She blinked owlishly. "Well, um…"

"Er, I mean-! Not-!" Harry's felt warmth spreading across his face and neck. "What I meant to say was-!"

"No, don't panic. It's alright," the lady interrupted, laughing warmly and squeezing his shoulder. "Come by at seven. We'll have a drink."

"T-thanks," Harry stuttered, and proceeded to smile awkwardly until she had tottered off. The moment she was gone, he turned to start pouring them both a glass of butterbeer.

"Anyway…" he opened his mouth, and then closed it, brow creasing with a frown. "Wait, what was I saying?"

Xx

What the hell did that even mean, his wand 'liked' Harry more?

How could a wand prefer someone? How could a wand even think? It was a wooden stick, for Merlin's sake! All that wands did was perform magic for the user and lie in wait as a weapon and tool for later use. That was its single job, and apparently his wand preferred someone else now? Feeling incredulous and betrayed he glanced down at the thin, pale wood in his hand and then back up to Harry.

Tom was about to snap at him to accuse him of lying, when a very pretty little interruption meandered up to their table.

She smiled daintily, swayed her well-developed little figure, and attracting all of Harry's idiotic attentions. He could see the blush forming on his tanned cheeks as the girl set the jug of butterbeer down for them both and smiled widely. Harry tripped adorably over his introduction, gesturing wildly to Tom as though the girl needed to know he was there.

"Hufflepuff, hm? How charming." Tom commented, casting her a winsome smile, somehow managing to look gracious and confident all at once, even while counting the different ways he wanted to boot her out of their corner. Harry still hadn't answered about his wand. He needed to tell him about the wand allegiances!

As their conversation dragged on, Tom tried not to shoot a glare at Harry for 'trying his chances'. Incredible! He should be hitting on the wait staff when they had irate purebloods and wandlore to discuss! If the sustained blush on Harry's face was anything to speak to, it was the fact that all he could seem to think of was getting this pretty little tart lying down with him as soon as possible.

"Thank you so much for your concern. You're too kind." And too easy, wench. Go away now, you disgust me.

He kept smiling easily in her direction until she was finally out of sight. He turned in a mere second when she was finally gone. " Really ? You really think this is the time for you to be planning your next bedside partner? I have to admit that I forgot how good looking you are but that gives you no excuse! You're worse than Dolohov, and that's saying something, Harry ." He shot him an icy glare. "And what do you mean, my wand 'likes you better'? It's my wand." He hissed in a scathing whisper. "It should like me best! I'm its owner!"

Over on the other side of the room, someone's wooden goblet exploded, sending wine and broken bits of pine flying everywhere. The warlock it belonged to squawked in surprise and embarrassment, rushing to clean up the mess with a spare napkin. Tom huffed angrily, snapping his attention away from the scene. He needed to keep a better hold of his magic. He couldn't allow his anger to control it.

These things…they had not happened to him since he was so young. Why was this explosive, destructive magic leaking out now?

Xx

Harry watched the poor, harassed-looking warlock attempt to mop up the mess that had become of his cup. It was only after using up every available napkin that the warlock seemed to remember - oh yeah, I'm magic! And proceeded to magic the mess away with a blush on his cheeks. Harry might have apologized on Tom's behalf, but he didn't want to embarrass Tom. He was already worked up without the having an adult do something as patronizing as apologizing for his behaviour.

He awkwardly slid a glass of butterbeer over to Tom's side of the table. "Most wands can be won, and yours is no exception. It does have its own set of standards, though. It probably wouldn't align with just any witch or wizard. They have to be- like you, and since I own its brother wand and had your soul in me from the age of one to seventeen, I suppose I'm the best next thing."

He withdrew his hand, cupping it around his own glass of butterbeer. "And I wasn't – God, Tom, don't talk that way about women, nor me . Not that I'd mind if she wanted to – but the point is, you can't just assume she would just because she's pretty. If Ginny were to-" His mouth snapped shut. There was a short pause, and then he continued. "I wasn't asking with that in mind. I thought this might be a nice place to work. It was sweet of her to turn it into a date, but I'm not really looking for, you know. Commitment. I mean, I'm already committed to you, and you're a full time job."

Sipping his drink, Harry discreetly peered into the kitchens after the waitress. He really should have asked for her name. If it'd been written on a tag somewhere, he couldn't recall. He'd been too busy looking at her face to notice the rest of her.

"I should probably try to make some friends, though, even if I don't get a job here." He shrugged. "It'll give me something to do while you're at school."

Xx

Tom kept Harry locked in sight with a piercing glare, making it very clear that it was entirely unacceptable that his wand was no longer considering Tom its master. Though Harry claimed he was no thief, Tom was thinking along a different set of lines and it showed in his frigid tone. Yet, something about knowing that it had been because Harry was similar to Tom that the wand reacted in this way that comforted him just a touch. Not nearly enough to ease his anger completely, but enough to function without exploding any more of the other patrons' drinks.

"Oh please, Harry. You know she's going to sleep with you." He snapped scathingly. "Shall I go for a 'long walk' this evening while you woo her in our ravishing tent ?" He continued bitingly. It felt good to stab at Harry's clear advances and his innocent look of shock. His admittance that he was going on a date and being reminded of his pretty little poppet back at his home time only seemed to add fuel to the fire. To have so many romantic ties was quite baffling. Tom would have never thought that someone so well trained in the magic arts would allow themselves to get so roped up in so many triangles. Why was he so damned disappointed in Harry? Why was he so upset?

He took a sip of the butterbeer, more to have something to do with his hands than clench them angrily under the table. Harry's plan to get a job and his mention of Tom returning to school sent a chill up his spine once again. Lord Black's mad smile lingered in the back of his mind, as though warning him of what was really at stake here.

"Whatever you do end up doing here, Harry, be on your guard." He stared down at his cup, into the steam coming off of the warm amber liquid with unfocused eyes. His lips tightened as he began to choose his words carefully, coming to terms with the fact that his school would no longer be as he remembered it. It couldn't be.

Not with filthy blood. Not being the bastard child he knew he was.

"If Lord Black is smart, which he is, he'll take the opportunity to confront me at school. Not necessarily physically, but verbally or even indirectly." Tom stated casually, softly. What lie could he feed the rest of them so that he could defend himself? How would he weave his stories to best protect himself? Was it even possible? If he sustained that he was pureblooded, the Knights would continue to push the rather bloody agenda that they had planned for the future. Yet, if he changed his tune about their plans, they would begin to question his power and authority. If he told them the truth, they would surely abandon him.