Harry had no idea what he'd find at the Ministry of Magic. He just knew he needed to find out, to discover the whole truth of what had happened during all this time. He had so many questions – and he hoped Tom…Voldemort…whoever he was now…would be willing to answer him.

Harry had run from the school to Hogsmeade where he'd apparated to London. Fred had once told him about how Mr. Weasley got into work using these toilets near the Ministry. Quite the odd way to get inside, but Harry hoped he could figure it out. And he did. It was surprisingly easier than he thought until he tumbled onto the floor of the Ministry into a crowd of people.

"Watch it," one of them said.

A witch with short blonde hair and wide dark eyes glanced at Harry. "What's Severus's boy doing here?"

"I'm not!" he huffed. Is that how people actually saw him in this new, strange world? The stepson of Severus Snape?

"Shouldn't you be in school? How'd you get here?"

It really wasn't that difficult, Harry wanted to say, but instead he just said, "I need to talk to To-Vol-…the Minister."

The witch laughed. "Very funny. Some sort of prank."

"It is not a prank!" Harry shouted. "I need to speak to him."

"The Dark Lord does not speak to silly little boys," said a familiar voice.

Harry turned and immediately recognized the witch Bellatrix Lestrange. Despite the fact that she likely never went to Azkaban, she looked as haggard and crazy as ever with her wild black hair and dark circles under her eyes.

"He'll speak to me."

She scoffed. "The child of a mudblood, I doubt it."

Harry glared at her. "At least my parents weren't brother and sister."

She gasped air through her teeth and pulled out her wand. "My parents were not-"

"It would explain a lot." Harry stepped forward. "Now if you'd let me pass I'll find him myself." There was just something about Bellatrix that had always pissed him off despite the fact he'd met her only twice (at least in his personal history), who knew how well she knew his other self in this life.

She grabbed Harry's arm. "You're not getting anywhere near him."

Harry just laughed and tore away from her grip. "Trust me. I've been a lot closer to him than you'll ever be."

What he said took her by enough surprise that she let him get by her. Harry took off down the hall. Maybe he could get farther by not demanding straight out to see Tom, but maybe by asking to see an assistant or secretary or something. Harry's eyes caught on a wizard in a pointy hat behind a counter. He hurried up to him.

"Hi, excuse me."

The man looked up. "Yes?"

"Is there a way I can maybe speak to the Minister's assistant?"

The wizard sighed. "What are you doing kid?"

"It's very important."

"I'm sorry. The Minister's aid's schedule is full for today."

Harry ran his hands through his hair. "Can you at least tell me his name?"

"It's Abraxas Malfoy." The wizard shook his head. "They teach you anything in school nowadays?"

This was perfect. He wasn't close to Malfoy back in 1940s Hogwarts, but they had classes together and lived together and he knew him. Malfoy would recognize him and be able to help. But Harry had to do this right. Smart.

"Where's his office?" asked Harry. "You know, for future reference." He smiled.

"Third floor. His name's on the door. Is that all I can do for you?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you very much."

Harry turned his back and suddenly wished he had his invisibility cloak. Then it hit him painfully that he had left it, the only thing he had of his father's, in the 1940s.

Harry sighed. He'd have to find a way to live without it. He walked away as nonchalantly as he could, hoping to blend into the crowd. A group of tall wizards in black cloaks walked toward the elevators and Harry followed behind them until he was with them on the elevator.

He rode up with them until the second floor where they got off. He pushed 3 and then waited for the new group of Ministry workers to pile on. Unfortunately, Bellatrix was among them.

Her eyes narrowed as she noticed Harry. "You," she spat.

"Yep, me," he said and barreled past her and the other workers when the doors opened on the third floor. He just had to find Malfoy's office before she caught up to him, but Bellatrix ran surprisingly fast in heels. Thankfully, she hadn't taken to shooting curses at him yet.

He glanced at the doors as he passed them looking for Malfoy's name. He probably ran past ten doors before he finally saw it. Harry slid to a stop and tore open the door. He jumped inside and slammed the door behind him.

"What is going on?" An older blond man stood up from his desk, his green cloaks snapping as they fell. "We're in the middle of a private meeting."

Though he had certainly aged, Abraxas Malfoy still looked like himself beneath the wrinkles and age spots. His head turned. "Snape's boy?"

"Can people stop calling me that?" Harry said, exasperated.

"You shouldn't be in here," Malfoy said.

"You don't recognize me?"

He sighed. "Of course, I do. Your Snape-"

"Don't even say it." Harry pushed past the three witches who were staring at him to get closer to Malfoy. "Toward the end of your school years, a boy disappeared from Slytherin House, remember?"

"Yes. Harry Potter, that was his name. I think, Harry, like yours. And he had scar like that one." Malfoy pointed at Harry's forehead. "Wait… you don't have a scar?'

"I told you. I'm not Snape's boy." The words tasted gross on his lips.

Malfoy's mouth dropped open and he stared at Harry.

"I need to talk to Tom," Harry said.

"Get out," Malfoy said.

Harry backed up. "Me?"

"No. The rest of you. Out."

The three witches glared at Harry, mumbling to each other as they left Malfoy's office.

"Come with me." Malfoy slipped around the other side of the desk and latched onto Harry's arm. He yanked Harry forward and together they walked out of the office. They walked down the hall to two big, wooden doors with snake handles.

Harry should've just kept walking. He would've found it himself. Subtle, adult Tom Riddle was not. Guess he didn't have much of a reason to be. As Minister of Magic he could probably do whatever he wanted. Harry had a feeling the title "Minister" meant a very different thing when applied to Tom. Something more like "King" or "Emperor".

Malfoy knocked on the door. "Sir, it's Malfoy. It's... an emergency."

There was no reply and Harry stood there holding his breath. What he'd see on the other side of this door wouldn't be Tom Riddle, with his dark eyes and dark lips. This would be Voldemort with all his pale, snake-like, unearthly features. He needed to prepare himself for it.

The steel snakes on the door began to move, slithering up the wood until they rested on the top and the doors peeled open with a shuddering squeak.

"Malfoy," a cold voice snapped. "I told you to get that bloody squeak fixed."

"Apologies, my Lord."

"What's so urgent?" The voice was louder.

"I am," Harry said as he stepped through the threshold and into the dim light of the room. At this point, he still couldn't see Tom.

"Harry?" Tom said. "Leave us, Malfoy." The giant doors slammed shut and moments later, lanterns illuminated around the room.

Harry gasped at what he saw. It wasn't Voldemort.

"You look-" Harry blurted.

It was Tom. Tom, but with flecks of red in his eyes, slightly paler skin as if he never went outside. He was still young too. Not a teenager anymore. He looked twenty, twenty-five at most. Frozen in time, like a relic from ancient history.

"Yes?" Tom hissed.

"You look different than I expected."

"What did you expect?" He bit his bottom lip and Harry forced himself to look away. He didn't like that this Tom Riddle could still affect him.

Harry swallowed. "When I knew you before, you looked like, well kind of like a giant snake."

"I sound attractive," he whispered, stepping closer. Harry swallowed. (Remember what he did to you. Remember what he is.)

"Why didn't you kill me?" Harry couldn't just help getting to the point. Around Tom he found it easier to just blurt the things that needed to be said.

Tom mostly ignored him. "Want a drink?"

"Not particularly."

"After all this time, Harry Potter's still afraid of firewhisky." He walked over to his desk and poured himself a glass. For a moment, Harry imagined they were back in Tom's prefect room.

"It's been like ten hours for me, so…"

Tom's back was to Harry. He paused, his hand wrapped around his glass. "It's been much longer for me."

"I thought you'd be angry with me for leaving without-"

He turned around, taking a sip of the molasses-colored liquid. "What 'saying goodbye'? Exactly what do you think I am? A Hufflepuff?"

"No. I just thought that. I don't know. You cared."

Tom laughed and walked closer. Close enough Harry could smell him. He smelled the same. "I thought last time we were together I made it clear how much I didn't care about you."

That stung. Badly. It might have been sixty years for Tom, but it had been hardly anytime at all for Harry. That wound was still incredibly fresh and Tom knew it.

"After all this time, you're still a terrible person," Harry spat.

Tom smirked, the red in his eyes sparking like embers. "True."

"Except you let me live, and my mother. Why?"

"It helped me win the war."

"You didn't know that it would. And while we're on the topic of you winning the war, how on earth did Dumbledore not try and stop you? Why's he working at Hogwarts?"

Tom laughed. "Albus Dumbledore isn't working at Hogwarts. It's his daughter. Clever girl, dark side, daddy issues."

That was crazy. "Dumbledore doesn't have a daughter."

"He does. He was married for a brief time, but story has it his wife threw him out about seven years in. Something about Gellert Grindelwald. I don't know. But he disappeared. Rumor has it he's in a Bermuda."

"What would he do in Bermuda?"

Tom shrugged. "He probably owns a surf shack. What do I know?"

"Why would he just let you live?"

Tom scoffed. "Out of curiosity, I'd like to know exactly why it is you'd like me dead?"

"Because you…you…" Harry was desperately searching for a reason.

"I what, Harry? In what way, have I destroyed your perfect little world? What horrifying atrocities have you witnessed?"

"I-"

Neville, he thought, but Tom had already started talking.

"Exactly. I might not be your ideal candidate for Ministry of Magic, but under my leadership, there are more jobs than ever, less poverty, the Ministry, Harry, turns a profit. We have a military for the first time, our territory is expanding through Europe, and we're bringing our prosperity to other countries." Something was alive in Tom's eyes. He moved closer to Harry, clearly excited. "We're ready."

Harry's heart pounded. "Ready for what?"

Tom grinned. "To show the world."

"Show it what?"

Tom placed his hands on each of Harry's shoulders, their faces just inches apart. "I'm going to reveal magic."

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and got some answers. Not all of the answers because Tom is still being himself about not wanting to tell Harry why he spared his life. I've always wondered what Voldemort's plans were if he killed Harry in canon, so I'm also having fun playing with that idea. Thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter and I hope you enjoyed this one.