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Chapter Text

Numb.  That’s the only way Harry could describe it.  He knew it was coming, what needed to happen.  Sadly, this knowledge doesn’t seem to change how he feels.  He supposes he should be grateful there is no pain.  There’s still time though, it will probably come with the guilt and regret he’s sure to be feeling later.

Harry stands on the astronomy tower, not even an inch away from the edge, gazing down at the ground below.  Standing in the place that another stood not long before him, he leans forward slightly to look at the form that lies below.  The mangled lump that was once his headmaster is all he can see.  He allowed himself a moment of silence to gather his emotions before turning on his heel and heaving a heavy sigh as he made his decent down the long staircase.

Taking the steps slowly he fingers the device resting inside his pocket.  “I need to leave.  Saying goodbye to the others definitely isn’t worth the chance that something could happen to stop my plans.  They’ll probably ask too many questions anyway, and won’t give me the chance to get away either; after I refuse to indulge them.  It’s better to go now while there’s no one to see or stop me.”

With that decision made he quickens his steps, making sure to remain unseen, and uses his knowledge of Hogwarts secret passageways to reach the owlery within a few minutes.  Taking the steps two at a time Harry soon reaches the top landing and immediately made his way over to Hedwig.  The headmaster and he had made sure to prepare everything beforehand.  All that was left for Harry to do was make the choice on whether saying goodbye to his friends would be worth it.  In the end, the mission was more important than the risks that could arise if he had chosen to.  Though, his reasons weren’t entirely pure either.  Harry didn’t think he could handle the emotions that would come from an encounter with his pseudo family.

Reaching out a hand to stroke her feathers, Harry closes his eyes and gathers his wits before letting her move to perch on his shoulder as he leans down to grab a hold of his trunk.  It had been pre-prepared for his departure and left waiting for when the time came.  Of course, after making it this far without any interruptions, something had to go wrong.  Just as Harry was about to close his fingers around the handle he felt a large wave of dark magic pass over him.

A chill runs down Harry’s spine, causing him to shudder before his body tenses.  Harry tries to calm his racing heart as he hardens his features and slowly turns around to face the source of his discomfort.  Standing in all his glory (or as much glory as one could have when surrounded by owls and, in association, their feces; not to mention that rather unfortunate nose situation…) was none other than Lord Voldemort.

§ “Well, what do we have here? A little lion trying to flee?  He would make a good meal for you; isn’t that right my dear Nagini?  Perhaps I will feed what’s left of him to you when I’m done.” §

Rather than react to the parseltongue Harry focuses his attention on the snake who decided to make an appearance after being addressed.  She slithered slowly up Voldemort’s arm and coiled around his shoulders, but never once did her eyes leave Harry’s.

§ “Of course Master,” § she hissed while scenting the air, § “I can taste his fear. So much, but he tries to hide it.” §

Harry slowly lets his wand slide out of his sleeve holster and into his palm.  Trying to make as subtle movements as possible he activates the device inside his pocket before grasping the handle of his trunk.  This did little as Voldemort hadn’t let his attention leave Harry since he walked into the room.  The eyes tracking Harry’s every movement narrowed slightly when he moved.  Quickly trying to come up with something to occupy him while the device took a few minutes to complete activation, Harry decided to question his sudden arrival.

“It was the vanishing cabinet wasn’t it; that’s how you got into the castle?  How did you know I was here in the owlery?

Voldemort stood silently watching him for a few more moments before a smirk slowly made its way onto his face.

“It was indeed the vanishing cabinet that finally allowed me and my follower’s access to Hogwarts.  I must confess myself surprised with the young Malfoy’s genius in locating one.  For a Slytherin he often reacts in ways opposing to his house, he is far too much like a Gryffindor.  It reminds me of you.  So Slytherin, though you try to hide it.  Look at you now, subtly trying to manipulate the situation to your advantage.”  Harry tries to remain impassive as Voldemort slowly starts stalking forward, “But you forget who you’re dealing with.  I am Slytherin in blood, mind, and body!  I know all of their tricks.”

“Really?  I thought Slytherin’s were supposed to by cunning and cautious, yet here you are revealing everything once again.  You Dark Lords really need to get a handle on shortening your evil monologues.  They’re honestly so exhausting to listen to and your abnormally high pitched nasally voice really doesn’t make things any better.”

§ “Perhaps it would be better for me to do something much more mentally stimulating. I believe what I have in mind will successfully capture your attention. What do you think Nagini, wouldn’t you agree?” §  Voldemort hissed.  Nagini didn’t verbally respond, but the dangerous glint that manifested in her piercing red eyes was answer enough.

Suddenly he vanished, leaving Nagini to gently land on the ground, and Harry only figured out why a second before pain erupted in his skull.  This wasn’t like the first time he was possessed back in the ministry.  Harry would take that pain over this any day.  It felt as if his soul was being cleaved from his body and he was only vaguely aware of collapsing to the ground.  Harry felt Nagini coiling around him and he could hear Hedwig as she clawed at the snake.  A pulse of magic ripped through the room.  Taking not even a second to realize what was happening Harry had enough time to tighten his grip on his wand and trunk before a feeling similar to a portkey overtook him.

The owlery was quiet as any trace of the previous occupants was erased.

Chapter Text

Harry feels his head pounding as he slowly comes to his senses. He attempts to shake away the disorientation by blinking the blurriness out of his eyes, but naturally it doesn't work. Instead he decides to do something more practical and pulls his glasses from where they remain tucked in his pocket before jamming them onto the bridge of his nose. It's a miracle he even managed to get them in his pocket while being strangled by Nagini and possessed by Voldemort. Harry decides to just get on with what he came here to do and ignore the fact that he's started seeing everything in doubles. He moves to stand, but quickly abandons that task when a strong wave of nausea washes over him and causes his vision to start swimming. Deciding instead to observe his whereabouts from his position on the ground, Harry looks around. From what he can gather, he appears to be in an abandoned park of some sort. One that bears striking similarities to the one Dudley used to beat him up in near Private Drive. Shaking the memories from his mind he quickly tries to locate Hedwig and his trunk.

After a quick survey of the area he locates his trunk where it has somehow managed to perch precariously on top of the nearby roundabout. Though unlike the one in his time this one is, ironically enough, a witch's hat roundabout and his trunk is balancing right on the tip of it. With a groan Harry heaves his sore body off of the ground and decides to first locate Hedwig before attempting to retrieve his trunk. It only takes a few moments to spot her from where she is sprawled out on the slide. Harry quickly makes his way over and after thoroughly checking her over she seems to have been lucky enough to escape any injuries.

Harry turns his attention back to the roundabout and glares up at his trunk. When he envisioned how this mission would be going down he in no way imagined it would involve him attempting to scale children's playground equipment. Ruefully he begins his attempts at trying to clamber up the rickety structure.

"Rita Skeeter, if only you could see the great Harry Potter now," he mumbles as he loses his footing and comes crashing to the ground. "I can practically see the headlines; Harry Potter a mere boy of 13 so desperate for attention he throws himself into the past, risking our beloved future, to cause mayhem. Who knows what kind of devious acts he plans to carry out. His childhood must truly have been tragic if he feels he has to cope by climbing about the park like a child. The only safe place for one so obviously demented is the Janus Thickey Ward in St. Mungo's Hospital."

He gives a derisive snort as he once again begins making his way up the side of the roundabout. Harry can only imagine how truly ridiculous he must look right now. After a fair bit of wiggling and cursing, Harry finally manages to scale the piece of equipment. Without further ado, he shoves the bottom of the trunk and sends it toppling to the ground with a resounding thud. Landing on the ground himself not a moment later, Harry grabs his trunk and drags it over to the form who he had been content to ignore until now.

Laying in the grass a few meters away, sprawled in a very un-lordly fashion, was none other than Lord Voldemort. His position was quite hilarious and if the situation wasn't so terrible Harry probably would have laughed. None the less, having Voldemort back in the past is nothing short of disastrous. Harry's whole purpose in coming here was to prevent Voldemort from ever happening. How was he going to do that now if Voldemort has followed him into the past? A past that lacks all the knowledge needed to keep the Dark Lord out of power at that.

Harry glares down at the limp form. "How easy it would be to end him now," Harry can't help but muse. Unfortunately, the device he used in order to reach this period needed fuel to power it. That fuel was Harry's, and subsequently Voldemort's, magic. Given the distance traveled and the amount of beings who were brought back, Dumbledore estimated a few hours before Harry would have access to his magic once again. It shouldn't be too different from their estimations, since Voldemort 'paid' for his own travel.

Staring at the quite frankly pathetic sight of the Dark Lord, Harry couldn't help but be conflicted. While the urge to find a sharp stick or rock and have a go at Voldemort while he was vulnerable was great, Harry didn't think he could stomach it. He'd much rather gather his things and Hedwig and bolt before the man returned to consciousness. Harry carefully ran his gaze across the park while still keeping part of his attention on the man before him. "No sign of Nagini, so there really wouldn't be a point in offing Voldemort without also being able to destroy his horcrux."

Mind made up, Harry quickly called Hedwig over to land on his shoulder before heading out of the park at a brisk pace. The first thing Harry needed to do was find out just where he had landed. Hopefully, he hadn't managed to be transported to a completely different continent. He definitely didn't want to have to waste precious hours waiting for his magic and the ability to apparate.

While walking , Harry can't help but wonder about his and Voldemort's arrival in the past. "Voldemort was possessing my body when the device was activated, and yet we were separated when I regained consciousness. Some how, the journey back in time managed to pull us apart and return him to his body." Stopping abruptly, Harry absent-mindedly apologizes to Hedwig for dislodging her. A sudden thought came to his mind and he can't help but wonder at the possibility. "If during the process of traveling back magic managed to separate us, could it be possible that it managed to pull the horcrux from within me as well?"

Harry's mind was abuzz as he once again started walking. "It doesn't really matter, though, does it? It's not like there's anyway for me to find out." With that in mind, Harry shook off his previous thoughts and determinedly continued on his way.

It was only a few short minutes later that Harry reached the end of the park and found himself surrounded by suburban houses. He made his way down the street and was fortunate enough to come across a woman who was willing to tell him his location. It seems as if things are working in his favor for once because not only is he in England rather than Scotland or some other country, but he is also not far from London.

Wasting no time, Harry thanked the woman and quickly made off. An hour and a half of walking later and Harry was within London. It was a bit disorienting to see the city as he'd only ever seen it in old photographs, but nevertheless fascinating. Harry paid no mind to the not insignificant number of looks he was getting due to his clothes. Lugging around a trunk and carrying and owl probably wasn't helping either.

Another hour of wandering and getting lost later and Harry had finally managed to reach his destination.  Without further ado, Harry enters the Leaky Cauldron and heads straight for the entrance to Diagon Alley.  He has to wait for someone else to open the entrance do to his lack of magic, but luckily it wasn't for long.  Harry makes a beeline  for Gringotts.

Chapter Text

Harry briskly walked up the stairs leading to the entrance of Gringotts.  He paid no mind to the goblins standing guard nor to the warning written on the banks doors.  Never mind the grandeur that met his eyes upon entry.  With single minded focus, Harry strode toward the nearest available teller to politely request a private audience.  Given the goblin sneering down at him, Harry realizes that perhaps this won’t be as simple as he anticipated.

“And what exactly do you have to offer us that would make us grant you an audience?” The goblin drawled. “We don’t have the luxury to waste time on no name clients barely holding on to their last knut.”  The goblin gave a sharp smile as it finished its assessment of his character.

Harry simply rose a brow in response and held fast on his slowly mounting anger.  He never expected his first obstacle to be making it past the teller.  If this is any indication on how his time in the past is going to go, Harry dreads the years to come.

Plastering a smile on his face that’s probably more grimace than anything else, Harry gives the goblin a simple and straightforward reply.  “I'm here to request a test of bloodline and change of name.  Should the results be as expected, I will then be depositing the entirety of my not insubstantial fortune into a vault.  I trust that Gringotts does not want me to take my business elsewhere?”

With a sour look upon his face, the unnamed goblin led Harry around the podiums and through a well concealed door in the back wall.  They were both silent as they made their way down a long dimly lit corridor.  Harry had just enough time to wonder if perhaps the goblin was actually going to do away with him before they appeared to have reached their destination.  A large oak door with intricate gold trimming and a rather vivid depiction of a battle between goblins and centaurs stood before him.  Harry couldn’t help being intimidated as apprehension slowly crept up his spine.

Harry never had much contact with the goblins.  In fact, his only real interaction was when he was freshly turned eleven and entering the bank with Hagrid.  He never really had to worry about it beyond that first trip since someone else always handled his key and he can't help but regret it now. Dumbledore made sure to prepare him as much as possible before he was to leave, but Harry can’t help the small voice in the back of his head telling him that it will never be enough.

Lacking any of the trepidation Harry was feeling, the goblin didn’t hesitate to push the large oak doors open and stride through.  Harry kept pace quite easily, but he couldn’t help marveling at the room he found himself in.  It really wasn’t all that different from the front of the bank, except instead of standing at podiums lined along the walls the goblins where situated in glass cubicles.  Some of the cubicles glass were fogged almost to the point of being opaque.  Harry can only assume that those cubicles are receiving clients.

Feeling a little better about the situation, Harry allowed himself to relax somewhat.  Surely if the goblin wanted to discreetly kill him he wouldn’t make a production of it?  Although, Harry supposes the other clients and goblins won’t be able to see much once he's within one of those cubicles.

In no time at all, they had crossed the room.  Without further ado, the goblin escorting Harry ushered him inside and closed the glass door with a soft click.  There were two chairs situated in front of one of the tall podiums that can be found in the front of the bank.  Sitting behind it was, if possible, an even more severe looking goblin than the one Harry had the pleasure of escorting him.  Harry awkwardly took a seat as the new goblin silently assessed him.

“My name is Vargot and I will be handling your business today.  What about the nature of your visit today elicits a private audience?”  Vargot spoke monotonously.

“As I told the goblin who led me here, I would like to request a test of bloodline and then change my name if the results permit me.  I will also need to deposit the entirety of my fortune into a vault. Given whose bloodline I know I am descended of, I preferred to have the testing done in private.”

Vargot gave a noncommittal hum before disappearing behind his podium.  He reappeared a moment later with a machine resembling an ornate typewriter.  After placing it on the podium, Vargot inserts a piece of parchment and turns the device to face Harry’s direction.

“You will place your thumb in the center below the first row of keys over the small hole you’ll find there.” He promptly instructs.

Standing, Harry does as instructed and reaches upward to place his hand where instructed.  Harry feels a small prick in his thumb before the machine abruptly comes to life.  Pulling his hand back, Harry watches as the carriage slides back and forth at a dizzying speed as the keys start frantically typing away.  It takes less than a minute before the machine lets out a small ding and suddenly stops all motion.  Vargot snatches the parchment out of the machine as soon as it stops moving and silently reads it over.  Harry watches as an unsettling smile slowly stretches across Vargot’s face.

“Well, well, it appears we do have much to discuss Mr. Potter.”  Vargot finishes reading the parchment before handing it to Harry.  Slowly, Harry reclaims his seat and begins reading the parchment.

On the list went until Harry finally reached the end.

“Huh, that’s a lot more straightforward than I thought it would be.”  Harry thought while blinking down at the parchment before him.  After finally looking his fill, Harry tore his gaze away from the test and turned his attention to Vargot.  The goblin was still watching Harry with a smile just a bit too wide and a tad too sharp.

“So, would you be wanting to establish yourself as an heir to the Potter estate?  The problem of your legitimacy is of little consequence.  If you are a first born male that will work even more in your favor.”  Vorgot looked almost gleeful as he explained.

Harry ruefully shook his head, a smirk settling on his lips.  “I suppose that clears one thing up.  Goblin and wizard relations have never been the best.  I can’t really be too surprised that they'd enjoy ruffling some feathers and causing a bit of embarrassment.  Unfortunately for them, I'm not here to cause a scandal for the Potters.”

“I'm afraid my business at this bank has nothing to do with the Potters.  I'm actually here because I'm looking to claim the Peverell name.  I'd hoped being a first born male directly descended of Ignotus Peverell would also help my case.”  Harry couldn’t help but notice Vargot looked quite a bit put out at this information.

“Very well, there are no others holding the name at this time, so there is no one to deny your claim to the name.”  Vargot disappeared from view once more before popping out with another sheet of parchment. “We have already performed the test of bloodline, so we will not need any other form of proof for you to claim the name.  You will hold the test in your non dominant hand and this,” he handed over the piece of parchment, “in your wand hand.”

Harry glanced over what he had been handed.  It appeared to be a list of instructions and an oath of some sort.  Feeling a bit lost on what to do next, Harry gazed up at the goblin for further instruction.  Luckily, Vargot obliged with only a sigh.

“Hold the parchments as I instructed and read the instructions on the parchment.  When you feel you have a sufficient understanding of what you are meant to do, start speaking the oath.  In this oath you agree to swear away your other name and claim this new name as your true one.  After the oath is completed all files, paperwork, and documents that have your name written on it in any kind of official capacity will be self updated by magic.  You completely relinquish your claim on your previous name, so should you ever want to go back, you will have to put forth a case with the head of the Potter family asking for permission to hold their name.  Do you understand?”

Nodding in affirmation, Harry does as he's told.  In his nervousness, Harry stumbles over his words a few times and hopes it has no affect on the result.  He can't help feeling tremendously ridiculous speaking to thin air, but when he finishes the air shimmers for a moment and both parchments glow.  When it stops he looks at both pieces of parchment.  On the top of his test of bloodline and the bottom of his oath, the name Harry James Peverell is now written.  Not wanting to waste any more time, Harry quickly hands over both parchments and enquires about any vaults or estate.  Unfortunately, all the vaults and properties associated with the Peverell name have been passed down and distributed throughout the families they married into.

Harry isn’t really upset by it given he brought the entirety of the future Potter vaults back in time with him.  He quickly opens his own vault and makes sure to also open a trust vault.  He only deposits a thousand galleons into it, but Harry’s sure it will be more than enough for his soon to be ward.  As the one to help him open his vault, Vargot will be the manager in charge of helping and overseeing him in the future.  Harry exits the bank more than pleased with the results of his visit.

Two hours had passed while he was inside.  Harry can't help feeling a bit of trepidation in the fact that it took him so long.  He can’t afford to waste any more time and quickly makes his way out of the alley and back onto the streets of London.  Stopping only to ask for directions, Harry heads toward the entire reason he undertook this journey.  He's left Tom Riddle waiting long enough.

Chapter Text

Harry gazed at the large gloomy building from across the street. Wools Orphanage stood before him in all its depressing glory. Young children were running around the yard playing, while others were doing chores here and there.

Tired of the stares he had been getting, Harry sent Hedwig off to where he'd decided they would be taking residence and passed his school cloak off to a homeless man he passed on his way here. He stashed his trunk in an alley nearby and hoped nobody would run off with it before he could return to it. His school uniform was still a bit out of place, but simply wearing a pair of slacks and a button down went a long way in helping him blend in. With any hope, it would endear him to the matron of the orphanage. Harry certainly needed all the help he could get in convincing these people to let a young boy walk out with a sixteen your old.

Of course, these weren't the only measures Harry had taken to ensure success. Before making the trip, Dumbledore had thought it best to play up Harry and Tom's similarities. A hair potion and a new pair of correct prescription glasses really did go a long way in bringing out their common features. It also had the added bonus of removing Harry's very obvious Potter likeness. Lacking the wild hair and wire rimmed glasses, Harry felt like a whole new man. Harry turned around to check his appearance one last time in the window of the building beside him. A boy with neat curly hair and nondescript glasses gazed back at him. Harry made sure to mimic the single curl strand Tom had that would lay just out of place on his forehead and fixed his collar before turning swiftly and striding towards Wool's doors.

"Confidence is key. Act like you're meant to be here and people will believe it." Harry mentally repeated this as he drew closer to the orphanage. Masking all his trepidation, Harry stopped just outside the doors and turned to address the children who had been warily watching his approach.

"I must speak with the matron on retrieving a relative. Can one of you please fetch her for me?" Harry enquired.

A look of muted excitement passed between them. It seems the thought of a long lost relative coming to take them home was enough to remove any reservations they had about him because they were soon all scrambling to be the one to grant his request. Harry can't help feeling a bit of pity. He lost count of how many times he had dreamed of being rescued and swept away from the Dursley's. Unfortunately, Harry is only here for one boy and he can't waste any amount of time on anyone else, as harsh as that seems.

A few minutes passed before a harried looking woman exited the doors. She glanced around before her eyes settled on him. With pursed lips, she looked him over once before turning on her heel. Without a word she beckoned him to follow her inside and set a brisk pace down the hall. The children Harry had sent inside a few minutes earlier darted passed them giggling and throwing glances his way before darting back outside. The woman stopped abruptly and it was a near thing that Harry managed to avoid collision. Opening a door Harry hadn't noticed, the woman ushered him inside.

"My name is Mrs. Cole and I am the matron of this orphanage," she spoke briskly while taking a seat behind the small desk situated inside the room. "I'm told you are here for a relative. I will need your full name as well as the name of your relative for our records."

Harry sat in the singular chair across from Mrs. Cole and tried to look as composed as possible as he repeated the lie Dumbledore had come up with. "My name is Harry Peverell and I'm here for Tom Marvolo Riddle. It has recently come to my mothers attention that my aunt Merope hasn't been traveling with her husband Tom senior as we believed, but that she had passed away. My mother learned of Tom after speaking with his father and decided to look for him. Tom's father wants nothing to do with him and gave his blessing to my mother to raise him should she find him. We heard recently that there is a boy here of that name and she sent me to come collect him while she prepares a room for him back home. You do have a Tom Marvolo Riddle here, right? I've really looked forward to meeting my cousin and I know my mother would be devastated if we were mistaken."

Harry hoped he gave a convincing performance. The desperation and hope really weren't hard given how desperate he truly is to collect Tom and be on their way. Mrs. Cole hadn't changed expressions throughout the entirety of his spiel aside from a small flinch when he first mentioned Tom's name.

"There is indeed a Tom Riddle in this orphanage. Although how you've heard of him, I've no idea. The privacy and protection of all the children within these walls is something we hold to the highest standard. With that said," here she hesitated, " I must warn you if you are to be taking the boy. Ever since he was born here, there has been something strange about that boy. He hardly ever cried as a baby and when he did I swear the walls would shake. There have also been incidents with the other children. Horrible things that left the children with nightmares for months after. I'll be honest when I say that there isn't likely a single person within this orphanage that doesn't want him gone, but my conscious wouldn't let me rest if I didn't at least warn you before you make off with him."

Mind running a mile a minute, Harry took in what Mrs. Cole had told him. It really wasn't all that unexpected. He'd only arrived a year before Tom was to receive his Hogwarts letter and much of what Mrs. Cole had told him was very similar to what she had told Dumbledore when he first met Tom as well. Despite having been expecting this, dread starts to pool in Harry's stomach. For some reason, it slipped his mind that while he and Tom had very similar childhoods, they dealt with them quite differently. Harry spent most of his locked away in his cupboard dreaming about being rescued, while Tom spent his enacting revenge on those who antagonized him.

"I thank you for the warning, but if I don't come home with him today I know my mother will have my hide before storming the building herself," Harry rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "And even so, it's our responsibility as his family to take care of him and make sure he turns out alright."

Mrs. Cole gives him a skeptical, but nevertheless sincere smile. "Well it's best to get this over with then. Please follow me to Tom's room."

They rise from their seats and head back out into the rest of the orphanage. A quiet sigh passes Harry's lips when Mrs. Cole has turned her back to him. While Harry can feel a small bit of his magic has returned to him in the few hours that have passed, he really doesn't want to have to use it. Of course, it's still a bit too soon to assume he'll be able to walk out with Tom, but so far things look promising.

A few flights of stairs and no less than four near collisions with running children finds Harry standing outside what he presumes to be Toms room. Mrs. Cole knocks on the wood twice before opening the door. Inside is exactly as Harry remembers it. Or is it better to say it's exactly as he recalls Dumbledore to remember it? Directly next to the door is a singular wardrobe, a small bed sits in the left corner adjacent from the door and no more than six inches to it's right is an similarly small desk with a lone window letting light in just above it, all sat in an equally small room. Sitting at the desk, none other then Tom Riddle glares back at Harry.

"Tom, you have a visitor. This is Harry Peverell, a cousin of yours. He and his mother have been looking for you for some time. I'll leave you both to talk while I draw up your papers." With that said, Mrs. Cole gently closes the door behind Harry.

Harry awkwardly gazes at Tom as he silently glares him down. Harry can't help being amused in how adorable such an expression is on such a youthful Tom, but he knows this is only a precursor to what is going to come. Harry shuffles over to the bed and tries to ignore the foreboding creak it gives when he sits down. He lets the silence linger on for a few more minutes before realizing that Tom isn't going to make any move towards breaking it.

"Hello Tom, I'm Harry." He stretches out a hand for a shake. When Tom's only response seems to be trying to mentally set his hand aflame, Harry quickly pulls his hand back and decides to throw any light conversation out the window and instead get into the crux of things.

"So Tom, you're a wizard." Harry mentally slaps himself on the face for literally having no tact. That was a bit too straightforward given the suspicious glare Tom was now aiming at him. "Sorry, that was a bit out of the blue. Don't worry, I'm one as well! It's nothing to do with what the matron told me! I just . . . wanted you to know . . ." Harry wonders if it's not too early to call a quits and chuck himself out the window above Toms desk. Harry squints at it, "It's decently sized. I could easily fit." Harry's broken out of his thoughts by a quiet voice.

"Are you making fun of me? The matron has called priests before to try and . . . fix me, but none of them tried to convince me that they were like me." Toms unwavering gaze remained fixed upon Harry. "It's not my fault, you know. What happened to the other children. They hurt me first and then I got angry. It's not my fault."

Harry, well, he doesn't quite know how to respond to that. While in abstract Harry can understand Toms flawed logic, he cannot understand its source. Is this just the rationalization of a child whose had terrible things happening around him out of his control or is this the non feeling, uncaring words of a child who doesn't believe he can do wrong? Harry really hopes it's closer to the former.

"No, I'm not making fun of you. Sorry if it felt that way." An abrupt laugh passes Harry's lips, only slightly edging toward bitter. "I certainly know how it feels. Look, I'm not a priest. I really am like you. A wizard, that is. I don't quite know how I could prove it to you but," Harry abruptly stops that line of thought, he knows exactly how he could prove it. "Actually, maybe I do. You wouldn't happen to have a snake would you?" The slight widening of Toms eyes makes Harry wonder if Tom has an inkling toward where this line of questioning is leading.

"A snake. Why would you need a snake?" There is cautious optimism in Tom's eyes as he asks this.

"Well, my magic is running a little low at the moment because of something I had to do earlier, er, today? So I can't really give a showy demonstration. I can still talk to snakes, though, even if my magic is a bit low. So do you have one?" Harry stumbles through the explanation with about as much grace as Hermione on a broom, but it seems to have gotten through to Tom.

Tom pulls open one of the drawers in his desk and reaches his hand in. When he pulls it back out, there is a small greyish snake wrapped around his fingers.

§ "Young speaker! Have you found my mouse yet? § A small raspy voice spoke.

§ "I'm afraid I haven't managed to catch it yet." § Tom spoke gently to the snake as he began stroking its scales.

§ "Then why have I been awoken?" § The small snake seemed to pout as it realized it was not awoken to receive food.

Feeling this was as good a time as any to insert himself into the conversation, Harry did just that. § "I'm afraid that's my fault. I needed a demonstration for Tom and speaking to you was the best I could think of." §

As soon as the words started to leave his mouth Tom and the snake both whipped their heads around to face him. It seems that despite deciding to humor him, Tom didn't actually believe that he could speak to snakes as well.

§ "Another speaker!" § The small snake was writhing in excitement. Tom was struggling to hold on to its small body as it squirmed around, hissing at the snake to stay still, but it could not be tamed. Harry was making a valiant effort to hold in his laughter at such a scene, but alas, it was not meant to be. Once one chuckle was let through, it was as if a flood gate opened up. Tom didn't take to kindly to his laughter, however.

"Stop laughing! Right now, stop laughing at me!" Gone was the soft dull tone Tom had previously uttered. Harry made sure to note that among all the other things he needed to keep an eye on, there was also apparently a short temper. "Huh, I wonder if this will also help the 'we're related' case," Harry couldn't help but muse. "I've certainly got a temper of my own."

"Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to laugh," Harry lets his amusement subside. "You're just really adorable together."

§What!? What are you saying? Speakers! Why are you ignoring me? § The snake had apparently taken offense to being ignored. Luckily for Harry, it drew Tom's attention away from him.

§ "I'm sorry, my friend. I never meant to ignore you." § Back was the soft gentle tone Tom had used previously. Harry couldn't help but notice the soft spot he seemed to have for the snake as he watched Tom resume petting its scales. Harry hopes that this little display of affection is a sign that his mission won't have been for nothing.

Abruptly, two knocks come from the door, cutting their conversation short, before the matron is pushing her way inside. Tom only just managed to drop the snake in the drawer and slide it closed before she entered. Given the enraged hissing Harry can hear coming from the desk, the snake isn't taking to kindly to the abrupt change in treatment.

"Mr. Peverell, if you could follow me to my office. I have all the paperwork drawn up and ready to sign. Tom, begin packing your things. We will be back to collect you shortly." Mrs. Cole wasted no time in dishing out orders and neither Harry nor Tom wasted any time in following them.

Harry rose from the bed and took the few step needed to reach the door. He couldn't help glancing back at Tom before following the matron to her office. He found Tom to already be watching him and tried to give a reassuring smile before turning his back and continuing on his way. The walk the the office felt shorter than before, but Harry couldn't help noticing the venomous stares he was getting on his way here. It seems that the news of him coming for Tom has already made its rounds throughout the orphanage and the other residents are less than pleased.

Harry once again takes the seat across from Mrs. Cole and waits for her to gather her papers before listening to her instruction. "Now, this document here is for our records of you. I will need you to fill out the paper with your name, birth date, address, and whatnot to log your visit to the orphanage and your enquiry of adoption. This second document is for you to take home to your mother. Unfortunately, I cannot release Tom into your care without the person who is going to be taking guardianship of him present to fill out the papers and documents necessary. You may bring the documents home to her and if she is able to fill them out swiftly she may return here this evening to turn in the documents and collect Tom. If tonight is not convenient, I will have Tom ready to go tomorrow morning."

With all of that said, she handed over two documents. One was much thicker than the other and was obviously the documents he was supposed to give to his 'mother.' Harry stared at the two documents for a moment before taking a deep breath and releasing it as a sigh. "It seems I'm going to have to do this the hard way."

In a moment, Harry had his wand aimed directly between the matrons eyes. Before she even had a chance to react, Harry had her confunded.

"I don't need to bring my mother, she's so busy with preparations. It will be perfectly fine if I fill out all of these documents, right here and right now, so I can leave with Tom. After we leave, you will file these documents away and there will be no need to question or investigate them further."

As quickly as he had pulled it out, Harry had his wand stashed back away. Mrs. Cole dazedly agreed and Harry quickly went to work on filling out the documents. When it came to the address, Harry made something up given that he couldn't exactly provide the location of where they would actually be staying. It was hard work getting through the documents. Harry had only managed to build up a little magic in the past few hours and depleting it again so soon has left him feeling almost as out of sorts as when he first arrived.

Harry finishes the last document with as much of a flourish as he can muster before passing them over to Mrs. Cole. "Now that we are finished here, please take me back to collect Tom." Mrs. Cole gave no resistance when he asked her to lead him back to Tom's room. As they walk back, Harry can't help feeling anxious. He's already used up the little of his magic he had access to, he can't afford for anything else to go wrong.

Soon enough, they are back in front of Tom's room. This time it is Harry who knocks and opens the door. Tom is sitting just where he was before, only now there is a small bag lying at his feet. The hissing that had been originating from his drawer has also made a move and now seemed to be coming from within Tom's shirt.

"Are you all ready Tom? I've finished all the paperwork and we can leave whenever you're ready." Harry injects as much cheerfulness as he can manage into his words while feeling as exhausted as he is.

"Yes, I'm ready." Is Tom's curt reply as he grabs his bag and strides toward Harry. As he comes closer, Harry notices Tom spare one scrutinizing look toward Mrs. Cole where she has stood silently off to the side as he and Harry pass her in the hall. Harry wastes no time in getting them out of the building. While Harry was uncomfortable in the stares and glares they had been receiving as they made their exit, Tom seemed to relish in the other childrens jealousy.

The pair silently exits the gates of the orphanage and it is only after they have made it to the other side of the street that Harry allows himself to relax. Harry leads them down the sidewalk toward the alley he had stashed his trunk in and ignores the funny look Tom gives him when he goes inside. It seems luck is on Harry's side for once, because his trunk is exactly where he had left it. Taking a hold of it he turns around to face Tom.

"So, I know this is all out of the blue for you, and we sort of got off on the wrong foot, but I really would like for us to get along. We're cousins. Family. And I take care of my family." Tom looks at Harry taken aback by this sudden topic of conversation and Harry swiftly changes to something less heavy. "So, Tom, are you ready to see some real magic?"

Without waiting for and answer Harry throws a cheeky grin Toms way and strides out of the alley. He hears Tom scramble to keep up behind him and can't help but grin. "I can't wait to see his reaction to Diagon Alley."

Chapter Text

Harry sets a quick pace down the street, only slowing when needed for Tom to catch up. While he knows that Voldemort will be in the same predicament as him in regards to magical exhaustion, he still can't help feeling uneasy being out in the open with Tom like this. "He could be anywhere right now. Doing literally any number of horrible things." Harry shudders at the thought. "Why can't anything go to plan? The universe could at least pretend to play along. Is that really too much to ask?" Harry's broken out of his thoughts by a harsh tugging on his sleeve.

"Excuse me? Mr. Peverell." Tom's monotone voice reaches Harry as if through a fog. "I apologize, sir. I've been trying to get your attention for the past few minutes with no response."

Harry stares uncomprehending at Tom for a moment before his words catch up with him. "Oh, right! My apologies! What was it that you needed?"

Tom stares suspiciously at the grin Harry has been hard at work to keep plastered on his face since they exited the alley, but nevertheless ignores it. "Hmm, perhaps I'm coming on a bit strong." Harry makes note of that for later.

"I was just wondering where it is we are going, Mr. Peverell. We've been walking for some time and you haven't given any indication that we are almost to our destination. If it's any further, perhaps we should take the train?" Although Tom phrased that last sentence as a question, his expression remained unchanging. It almost looked as if he was asking on principle and not because he actually cared one way or the other.

"It's not much further, only a few more blocks, but you're probably right that we should have taken the train. For some reason, it never even crossed my mind." Harry let out an embarrassed bark of laughter. "I guess I should probably warn you that us magical folk tend to lack a great deal of basic logic. While that can be great, with helping us think outside what is perceived to be possible, it can also cause us to completely miss the obvious. Occasionally, there are some who still manage to keep their wits about them. My friend Hermione was one and I wouldn't be surprised if you were too. I can already tell how intelligent you are."

Although his face remained the same, Harry got the impression that Tom was fairly satisfied with his answer. This time when they took off walking, it was with Tom at the head. As Harry trailed behind him he couldn't help but watch and wonder. "This small, underfed boy will one day grow up to kill thousands of people. Let's hope I can change him."

It didn't take much longer before they finally stood outside the Leaky Cauldron. Harry pushed the door open with much gusto and ushered Tom inside. None of the other patrons paid mind to them as they shuffled their way to the back. Standing before the entrance to Diagon Alley, Harry can't help feeling a ridiculous amount of excitement. Harry quickly pulls out his wand and taps the sequence onto the bricks before turning his full attention to Tom.

Harry can hear the sound of the bricks scraping and moving as the entrance opens, but all his attention is focused on Tom. Tom's unchanging expression slowly cracks before him, leaving awe and wonder plastered clearly across his face for all to see. Harry doesn't stop him as Tom hesitantly takes one step forward, before the next, and then next thing he knew Tom's running from shop window to window. Gazing in wonderment at anything within sight, Tom looks like an entirely new person. And, for the first time, like an actual child. Gazing at him now, Harry feels a little bit of the burden he's been carrying slide off his shoulders and conviction set in. "I know I can do this!"

Eventually, Tom wanders his way back over to Harry. He's done an admirable job composing himself, but Harry can still see how brightly his eyes have lit up. Harry can also see the hint of embarrassment in the set of Toms shoulders, but makes no move to comment on it. Harry instead decides to act as if nothing world shattering had just occurred for either of them and go ahead with beginning their shopping. Luckily, the start of the school term has just passed, so they only have to worry about regular customers and the stray parent fetching a forgotten item for their child. It would have been a disaster if they had needed to come in the days before September first.

"So Tom, our first stop will be to get you and I entirely new clothes. It will take a bit for them to be ready, so we will have to circle back around at the end to collect them." Harry explains as he begins heading toward Madam Malkin's.

"If you don't mind me asking, sir, but why do you need all new clothes? Did something happen to yours? Or does your mother, my aunt I suppose, allow you to get a new wardrobe often?" Tom phrased the questions innocently enough, but Harry could see the way he was being scrutinized, no matter how subtle Tom tried to be. It appeared that even with the rush and excitement of his first trip to the alley, Tom's intelligent mind would not be distracted from any discrepancies Harry seemed to create. With that in mind, Harry made a spontaneous decision and hoped it wouldn't backfire spectacularly.

"Actually, Tom, my parents were both killed when I was a baby. I'm an orphan, like you. I was raised by my aunt and uncle. They didn't have any magic themselves and hated even the thought of anything abnormal. I'm sure you have some experience with that." Harry paused for a moment to gage Tom's reaction, but his gaze was inscrutable. "Anyway, even though the story about my mother is a lie, the fact that we're cousins isn't. It's quite distant, but your mother's family descended from the Peverell line, just like mine did. Finding out we were related was a pretty big shock actually. Especially considering, well, I suppose that doesn't matter actually." Harry trailed off awkwardly.

"You said your family also descended from the Peverell line distantly, so does that mean Peverell isn't your parents name?" Tom was definitely fishing for information, but Harry couldn't exactly blame him.

"You're smart to catch that. Yes, my parents and I went by a different name, but in order to start a new life in the wizarding world and forget about my past, I gave up that name for the Peverell name. With that said," Harry hesitated for a moment before deciding to go for it, "I would like to offer you the same opportunity."

Harry could note the exact moment he had garnered Tom's full undivided attention. They had been walking slowly for the duration of their conversation, but Harry could see Madam Malkin's just ahead and decided to try to quickly wrap up the conversation. Stopping for the moment, Harry also gave his full attention to Tom.

"I know this is all a bit much and really quite sudden, so take your time to think about it. Names are big things in the magical world, it's one of the reasons I changed mine, so don't make this decision lightly. There wouldn't be any going back if you go forward with it, considering the nature of the magic behind it. We'd have to petition the head of the Riddle family for the name and that would be, er, a mess. Anyway, just think about it."

Tom's face was one of great contemplation as they stood there in the streets of Diagon Alley. Harry didn't want to rush his thoughts, so he just waited patiently for when Tom was ready to speak. It didn't take too much longer before Tom was firing off questions.

"Names are important in the magical world in what way? Do they just prefer a certain kind of name, or do different names hold different meanings? Different statuses? What did you mean by the nature of the magic? Will I become a completely new person just by changing my name? And what did you mean by petitioning the head of a family for their name? Did you have to do that for the Peverell name? Will I? You mentioned the Riddles, does that mean I have more family? Why . . . why didn't my family come for me if they're alive? Don't they know about me? Weren't they looking?" What started out as enthusiastic inquisition slowly trailed off into quiet muttering.

Harry could barely keep up with the stream of questions, but the last few definitely captured his attention. He was hoping he wouldn't have to explain the Riddle's to Tom so soon, nor his mothers history, but it appeared that wouldn't be the case. Nevertheless, they really don't have the time to dive into the entirety of that story.

"In regards to your family, yes, there are others. However, they don't know about you because they weren't aware your mother was pregnant. There's a lot to the story and we don't really have time to delve into it right now, but I promise I'll tell you everything when we get home." Tom seemed displeased by this, but regardless excepted it for the time being.

"As for your other questions, names are really important to some wizards because they believe it shows how 'pure' your blood is. You'd have a lot easier time if they recognized you as a pure blood. We're both half bloods, however. Your father and his family are muggles, er, non magical. Your mother and the rest of her family were magical. I'm just the opposite, my mothers family was non magical while my fathers were magical. So I guess you could say that different names hold different statuses. I know the Blacks are really influential. The Peverell's are actually pretty infamous as well." Harry paused for a moment to make sure Tom was keeping up, but it was unnecessary. Tom was paying rapt attention to every detail Harry shared.

"When I mentioned the nature of the magic I didn't mean you'd become an entirely new person, but it will change your identity. If I tried to use a spell to find you using a name that wasn't yours anymore, I wouldn't find you. It's not like the muggle world where it's just a change on paper. This will change how your name is used in magic because it's tied to your magic. I hope that makes sense, it's a bit hard to explain." Harry laughs. "Lastly, I didn't have to petition the Peverell head because there wasn't one before I took the name. So now that I'm the head, you would have to petition me, but since I'm offering the name to you that part is kind of irrelevant. It's also a kind of loophole. I'm already your legal guardian in the muggle world now, but I can't take legal guardianship of you in the magical world until I'm seventeen. So the ministry would have to assign you one. However, if you take the Peverell name I will automatically become your head of house no matter my age and, therefore, your official guardian. Nobody would be able to take you away from me with that kind of familial magic binding us." Harry finished explaining.

It appears Harry said something wrong because now there's slight panic flashing across Tom's face. "They could take me away from you? To a magical orphanage?" Tom questioned. His breath was beginning to speed up and Harry could see him clenching his fists hard.

"There are no magical orphanages, so you would be sent back into the muggle world." Harry's explanation did nothing to quell Tom's mounting panic. "But don't worry! I'd never let them take you from me! If they tried, I'd fight them with all I have. And if I still lost, well, I've always wanted to visit Egypt! I bet we'd have fun there, my best friend Ron loved it when he visited." Harry was quick to reassure.

It seems to have gotten through to Tom because his breathing started to slow to a regular rate and he managed to relax his fists. Harry really didn't know what to do, but he figured this would be one of those times Hermione would give him a hug or Ron would give him a slap on the back. Not really knowing which was appropriate, Harry settled for an awkward combination of the two. A solid two seconds later, Harry made his retreat and studiously ignored the judging look Tom was aiming his way.

"Right! Okay, anyway, er . . . let's get moving now! We've spent enough time standing in the middle of the street. Let's get shopping!" Harry made an aborted movement to place his hand on Tom's shoulder. He instead settled for shooing Tom forward toward the robe shop.

They were both silent for the duration of the short walk and for the entirety of their robe fitting. An incredibly youthful Madam Malkin, much more so than Harry had ever seen, took care of their fitting and set them up with completely new wardrobes. These wardrobes consisted of a range of wizarding attire, undergarments, footwear, and even some era appropriate muggle wear. Harry paid no mind to the hefty cost when the time to pay came. He had purchased a small coin pouch that directly linked to his vault while at Gringotts earlier in the day, so luckily he didn't have to carry around a mound of coins. Harry did, however, break his silence long enough to explain wizarding currency to Tom and thank the Madam for her work.

They both left the shop satisfied with their purchases. Tom seemed particularly enthusiastic about having a whole hoard of brand new clothes just for him. Harry couldn't help sharing the sentiment. Aside from his school clothes and Weasley sweaters, all his clothes were Dudley cast offs.

They made a short detour to get Harrys trunk shrunken and mailed off to Hedwig, so he could stop lugging it around, and then their next stop was to purchase new trunks. The shop was quiet when they entered and an older gentleman, the only other store occupant, stood behind a register to the side of the door. The whole store was filled to the brim with trunks. They stood in towering piles and lined a path leading you deeper into the building. Harry carefully began his exploration with Tom right behind him. Harry couldn't help being reminded of the maze from his fourth year as the great walls of trunks lead a them on a winding path. When Tom not so subtly hooked one of his small fingers through Harry's belt loop to avoid being lost, Harry not so subtly hid the large stupid grin that stretched across his face.

The two spent a fair amount of time wandering the isles and browsing. They eventually came across a beautiful black trunk with ornate silver clasps. Tom was instantly entranced and Harry didn't hesitate to grab it. Retrieving it was much like playing a larger and more deadly version of Jenga, but eventually they managed to obtain it. After an hour more of aimless wandering, Harry was about ready to give up when a voice suddenly spoke up, startling them both.

"You've been wandering for some time now. Is there anything in particular you're looking for?" It was the old man from the front of the shop. Harry wasn't able to suppress the instinctual reaction that caused him to push Tom behind him and draw his wand, but the man didn't seem perturbed in the slightest at having a wand aimed a few inches from the tip of his nose.

"Yes, actually. I'm trying to find an apartment trunk for us to stay in. You wouldn't happen to have any, would you?" Harry wasn't quite ready to put his wand away after this man had managed to sneak up on him so thoroughly, but he at least figured it would be polite to lower it from the mans face.

"Oh, yes, yes!" The mans face completely lit up at hearing what they were looking for. "Traveling trunks are very popular these days! I've got the best, the top of the line! Follow me, gentlemen!"

Without further ado, the man led them to what Harry thinks is the back of the store, but his sense of direction got turned around after the ninth right turn he and Tom took to get where they are now. They soon reached a tower of trunks like any other they had passed. Without any reservations, the man toppled the whole stack. A resounding crash sounded and a cloud up dust coated the air, leaving them all coughing and sputtering. When the air cleared, it revealed a hidden room filled with, you'll never guess, more trunks.

"Now, I have plenty of styles! We have the standard trunk size of course. However, compact is really popular at the moment, so I have the best selection of briefcases! If that's not compact enough for you, I also have messenger bags, carry-on bags, and even a few coin purses!" The man was practically shaking with excitement as he detailed his selection of wares. "All equipped with a fully functioning and customizable apartment, of course!"

"That's . . . great!" Harry interjected. "I'm afraid I'm a bit old school, though. The older trunk models are what I would prefer to look at if you don't mind." Harry was hesitant to disappoint the excited man, but needs must. "While living out of a change purse would be lovely, compact isn't really, er, my style."

The man visibly deflated before them at Harry's request, but despite this complied. "Well if that's your preference." The man muttered as he gestured to his left. "All the older models are stacked over there. Feel free to look through them."

Enlisting Toms help, Harry and he made quick work shuffling through the pile of trunks. It was near the bottom of the stack that Harry found the jackpot. With a bit of struggle, Harry and Tom managed to pull out the odd trunk that caught his eye. It was about two feet wide and a foot thick, but what made it so odd was the fact that it must have been somewhere between seven and eight feet long. Harry new he'd found the one.

"Can you tell me a bit about this one?" Harry asked after he managed to drag the trunk over to the man.

"That one? Really?" The man was flabbergasted, but after seeing that Harry was entirely serious, he decided to humor them. "That trunk is quite old, but all the charms placed on it are just as strong and expertly done as the newest trunks. It holds two large bedrooms, each with their own full bathroom. It comes with a fully equipped kitchen. It has a dining area, a large living room, and a library that doubles as a study. The unit comes fully furnished, but you will have to stock your own books and buy your own sheets and towels and what not."

With every word the man said, Harry's decision was cemented further. "If it's just as top of the line as your other wares, why is it considered so outdated?" Harry couldn't help asking.

"Well, that's entirely due to the shear size of it.!" The man exclaimed. "No one wants to be dragging an eight foot long trunk about them while traveling! It's terribly inconvenient, but we needed a larger trunk when we were first figuring out how to lay the spells."

"Well, it just so happens to be exactly the right size for my need." Harry ushers Tom to bring his chosen trunk forward. "How much for both of these."

The shop keeper was still quite obviously baffled by their choices, but nevertheless walked them back to the front of the store and completed their purchases.

"Thank you for your help, sir. Would you mind placing a feather light charm on the black trunk, please? And shrinking the traveling trunk for me?" Harry inquires after handing over the money.

"It'll be no problem! I just hope my trunks serve you well! You grabbed a couple odd ones." The man replied.

Harry spared a glance at Toms trunk, but it still looked as ordinary as ever. "Really, how so?"

"Well, you already know about the traveling trunk." The shop keeper gives a hearty laugh. "This black one, now, it's not so much the trunk itself, but more what it implies. I modeled it after one I saw in a portrait of one of the Hogwarts founders, Salazar Slytherin. After I made it, I couldn't help feeling that whoever happened to be drawn to this trunk must be destined for my old house."

Harry can't help being struck dumb for a moment. While he's been trying to reexamine his personal biases since starting this whole adventure, he still couldn't help being shocked that this kind man was Slytherin. He hadn't been consciously thinking about it, but he assumed incorrectly that he'd more likely be a Hufflepuff given his personality.

"Right, well I wouldn't be surprised if Tom made it there. I wouldn't doubt his drive to succeed." Harry awkwardly replies.

Harry and Tom give there thanks, once again, to the man before bidding him farewell and continuing on there day. Next on their list is Gringotts. They make their way over to the bank quickly and Harry allows Tom a moment to marvel at the building and the goblins while he requests an ordinance with Vargot. A goblin soon comes to collect them and leads Harry down the familiar path to Vargot's booth.

When they are both seated comfortably in front of Vargot, Harry immediately gets down to business. "I would first like to request a coin pouch that links to the trust vault I set up in my earlier visit. I want a limitation of two-hundred-fifty galleons to be placed on it for withdrawal each month. I would also like to give my ward, Tom, partial ownership of this vault. If you could also set it to be updated to full ownership on his seventeenth birthday, it would be much appreciated."

Without bothering to answer, Vargot immediately got to work. The pouch was easily acquired and given to Tom, who seemed quite shocked to be given access to a vault of money. Vargot also explained to Tom the current balance of the vault and what taking ownership of it would entail in the future. Tom seemed quite dazed, but Harry could see he was doing his best to pay attention to everything being explained to him. Half an hour later, Tom was reading over Harry's shoulder as he carefully filled out the documents given to him before signing both his and Tom's names at the bottom.

"Will that be all for your visit today?" Vargot inquired.

"Actually, I also need to look over any property available for purchase in Hogsmead. And-" Harry turns to face Tom for this next part, "Tom has been offered to take the Peverell name if he chooses. You don't have to make that decision now, but Vargot can answer any questions you have about it far better than I can."

Vargot gathers the necessary documents and hands them over to Harry for perusal. As he looks over the properties, Harry keeps one ear out for the discussion taking place beside him. Tom asks Vargot many of the questions he had asked Harry earlier and receives many of the same answers. There was, however, one question in particular that caught Harry's attention.

"So if I take the name and Mr. Peverell becomes my full guardian, does that make him my new father?" Tom inquires.

"The taking of the name insures a stronger familial claim toward each other." Vargot promptly answers. "With full guardianship, it would not be a stretch to claim so, should it be desired. However, you could just as easily claim close cousins or even brothers."

Seeing the contemplative look taking residence upon Tom's face, Harry chimes in with his own two cents on the matter. "Well, I don't think I'm old enough to be a father and I haven't had the best luck with cousins. I have had some experience with a group of amazing brothers, though. My best friends. So, if you're willing to give it a go, I'd really like to maybe have a brother of my own. Of course, if you decide to take the name. No pressure." Harry sheepishly asks while rubbing the back of his neck.

Harry can obviously see that Tom is still a long way from trusting him yet, but he hopes that their experiences today helped Tom warm up to him at least a bit. "I . . . I think I would like that Mr. Peverell. The name and . . . being brothers." Tom replies almost shyly.

Harry can't help but beam at him. "Call me Harry. We are going to be brothers after all."

"Okay . . . Harry." A small smile tugs at the corners of Toms lips as he says this.

Vargot breaks their small moment by bringing out the familiar typewriter machine from Harry's last visit. Harry takes his attention away from them and puts it back on the papers in his hands. He's skimming the admittedly short list when one particular property catches his attention. "It's perfect."

Chapter Text

Harry and Tom briskly make their way down the streets of Diagon Alley. Harry can't help marveling slightly at how well everything has gone for today. Well, aside from the large Voldemort shaped problem, but he's trying not to think too much about that.

Harry and Tom are currently heading toward Flourish and Blotts, so Tom can collect any books he might like, while Harry finishes the rest of his shopping. Luckily, their trip to the bank was a quick one or they might have had to come back at a later day. Harry really does not like being out in the open for this long.

Finally arriving at the shop Harry ushers Tom inside. A bell rings as Harry pushes the door open, but he pays it no mind as he directs Tom deeper into the store. Harry's conflicted on what he's about to do, but he knows if he's going to get everything done that he needs to today, then he can't be hovering over Toms shoulder the whole time.

Harry carefully tugs Tom to a stop in a quiet corner of the shop and kneels down in front of him. Harry hopes the gesture doesn't come off as condescending, but he needs to make sure Tom understands the gravity of what he's about to tell him.

"So, Tom, I need to trust you with something really important." Toms attention is caught with those words, as Harry knew it would be. "We have a lot of shopping to do and it would take to long if we were to stay together the whole time, so I'm going to trust you with half while I do the other."

Harry can see Toms mounting annoyance at being talked to in such a manner and quickly finishes explaining before things go south. "I'm one-hundred percent certain you can handle that with no problem. The important part, the part I really need you to pay attention to, is about something else." Luckily for Harry, Tom was easily placated this time around.

"What is it Mr. Pev- Harry? Is it a secret?" Tom was getting impatient, waiting for Harry to get to the point.

"Yes, you could definitely call it a secret. Although, for how long it will stay that way I'm not sure." Harry shook his head and decided to finally stop talking around what needed to be said. "I need you to be very careful while I'm not with you, Tom. There is a man, a really terrible man, who would happily kill and torture me and anyone I care about. And right now," Harry looked directly in Tom's eyes as he said this, "that means you."

Tom looked taken aback, but Harry didn't give him time to ask questions before he went plowing on with his explanation. "This man might do anything to try to get to you. Either by offering you something or simply by taking you. I need you to be careful and remain aware of your surroundings. As someone I knew once told me, have constant vigilance. This man is a parselmouth, like you and me, meaning he can speak to snakes. He might use that to get you to trust him. Most likely, though, he will send his snake, Nagini, to make friends with you. I don't think he would come for you in person right now, but I can't be sure. In any case, if you see anyone with red eyes, run the opposite direction and hide. Do you understand what I'm telling you, Tom? Can I trust you to do this?"

"Of course, I can take care of myself." Tom answered with false bravado, but Harry didn't call him out on it and instead just nodded in agreement.

"Good. I'm going to leave you here while I finish shopping. You can buy whatever you want. Your trunk has already been spelled feather light, so whatever you purchase you can just put directly in your trunk. If you finish up here before I return, you can head down to Florean Fortescue's, it's an ice-cream parlour, and get something for yourself while you wait. We passed it on the way, it has all the tables and chairs outside."

After double and triple checking that Tom remembered the parlour and reassuring -himself mostly- Tom that he would be back soon, they parted ways. Nerves running high, Harry tried to look natural as he practically ran down the street, hoping to return to Tom as quickly as possible. Seeing his destination just up ahead, Harry made a beeline for it. Ducking into Knockturn Alley, Harry gave up any pretense of composure and very nearly sprinted to Borgan and Burkes. Panting for breath, Harry came skidding to a stop in front of the run down shop.

Harry pauses just long enough to straighten out his clothes and fix his skewed glasses, before confidently entering the shop. Harry knows exactly what he needs and intends to head straight for it, but he's stopped dead in his tracks when something catches his eye. Sitting innocuously on display is none other than Slytherins locket. Harry drifts towards it and knows that he can't leave this store without it.

As if summoned by Harry's thoughts, Borgan, or perhaps Burke, appears beside him just as his had was reaching toward the locket. Harry quickly snatches his hand back and mentally curses himself for being so stupid. He hasn't forgotten the last time he was stupid enough to go touching things he shouldn't while in this shop.

"I see you've got a good eye. This here is the locket of Salazar Slytherin himself. Worth a hefty price, I've got quite a few interested buyers already, but I'm always happy to hear a new offer." The man offers him an oily smile and Harry can't help the shimmer of disgust he feels at being so close to the man. Nor can he hide the indignation at his audacity after how he had so thoroughly conned Merope with a measly ten galleons.

"I'm actually hear to purchase your vanishing cabinet." Harry replies with a fake smile of his own.

The mans eyebrows shoot up at this, but he makes no comment as he turns and starts heading toward the cabinet. After the mans back is turned, Harry discreetly picks the locket up with the tip of his wand and slips it into the pocket on the back of his trousers before following after. He won't be able to walk out of the shop with it due to anti theft charms and, knowing this shop, a few nasty curses, but luckily he doesn't need to. Harry just has to wait.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." Harry politely questions as he trails behind the man.

"That's because I didn't give it." The man snorts. "Burke, at your service."

Harry doesn't pursue conversation any further as they walk the remainder of the few meters to their destination. They both come to a stop in front of the looming cabinet and Harry can't help marveling at it just a bit. He almost worried it wouldn't be here despite knowing that no one had purchased until Draco Malfoy in nineteen ninety-seven. After all, who would only want half of a set?

"The cabinet is in quite fine shape, a bit dusty, but excellent condition either way. Worth a good few galleons I'll tell you that. Not sure a boy like you could afford to make off with it." Burke give Harry a single glance over as he says this. "But I'm always more than happy to be surprised."

Harry looks the cabinet over for a few minutes as Burke impatiently waits before bluntly stating, "I'll give you two-hundred-fifty galleons for it."

Burke barks out an incredulous laugh and doesn't bother hiding the derisive smile spreading across his chapped lips. "Your gonna have to do better than that boy. This cabinets at least worth a few thousand."

Harry simply raises a brow at the condescending tone before studiously ignoring it. "It's true that the cabinet is in fine condition, but that really doesn't mean much when it's incomplete. In it's state now, it's no more than a glorified cupboard. I doubt the clientele you typically see, the very rich and the very poor, would have much interest in it. Considering one could simply buy a new, complete set, and the other couldn't even afford to look at it for too long. So, once again, I'll offer you two-hundred-fifty galleons for it. Unless you honestly think you'll be getting a better offer anytime soon."

Burkes expression steadily soured the longer Harry kept talking, but didn't seem to be able to refute anything Harry had said. Harry granted him a few moments to silently fume before gesturing for an answer.

With gritted teeth, Burke barks out, "three-hundred-fifty," without further comment.

Harry's feeling somewhat generous and decides to secede that much. Only after Burke has once again turned his back, and marched away to ring up his purchase, does Harry slip the locket out of his pocket. Once again balancing it on the tip of his wand, Harry carefully opens the cabinet and lays it gently inside before closing the door. He glances over his shoulder to check that Burke is still busy before opening the cabinet once more. Harry smiles at the emptiness he finds inside. He'll make sure to tip an extra ten galleons.

Chapter Text

Harry briskly walks the streets of Knockturn Alley, dodging the occasional hag begging for coin.  The vanishing cabinet is shrunken and secured in his pocket, but due to it’s magical nature the spell will only last for a short while.  It would be an absolute disaster to suddenly have it expand while it was still in his pocket.  Harry keeps that thought in the back of his mind as he quickly makes his way back to Diagon.

It is not long before Harry sees the steps leading back up into the brightly lit Diagon Alley.  Harry has to squint his eyes in order to see after so long in the dark and gloom that is Knockturn Alley, but does not falter in his step as he heads for Flourish and Blotts.  He will pass Florean Fortescue’s on the way, so he does not have to worry about accidentally passing Tom by.

Due to his brisk pace, it only takes Harry a few minutes before he is nearing the ice cream parlour.  Harry slows his pace as he approaches and takes a few moments to observe the sight in front of him.  Sitting innocently in a chair a few meters away, Tom sits happily enjoying his ice-cream.  He is not exactly facing Harry directly, so he has not yet noticed his approach.  A warmth begins to build in Harry’s chest as he watches the simple sight Tom makes just being happy.

Shaking these thoughts aside, Harry approaches Tom.  When he is only a few feet away, Tom finally notices his presence.  Harry watches as Tom seems to stiffen a bit and tampers down his disappointment at the act.  It is understandable for Tom to still be wary of him, they have only met today.  Or at least, Tom’s only known Harry for a day.  Before Harry has the chance to say anything, Tom is already finishing his ice-cream and discarding it in the rubbish bin nearby before coming to silently stand in front of Harry, pulling his lightened trunk behind him.

“Right, well I’ve got everything I needed from Diagon today, so let’s head to where we will be staying for the night.”  Harry informs Tom.

Tom makes no objection and they both start making their way back to the Leaky Cauldron.  It is an awkward silence that lays between them.  On Harry’s part, it is because his new ‘little brother’ is baby Voldemort.  While on Tom’s part, it is because some strange boy with strange motivations has successfully sequestered him away from the only place he has ever known.  The much-loathed orphanage.

Only when they have successfully made their way through the pub and out onto the streets of London does Harry pause.  He still cannot use magic yet, and probably will not be able to until after a good night’s sleep, so how does he get them to where they need to go.  A ridiculous thought crosses his mind, but honestly anything is worth a try.  Harry just hopes he does not look like a complete tosser when he steps up to the curb and raises his wand in the air.  He can see Tom giving him a funny look from the corner of his eye.  The expression is abruptly wiped from Toms face when a horrendously purple triple decker bus comes to a sudden, screeching halt in front of them.

Harry honestly did not expect that to work.  Admittedly, he has very limited knowledge in many significant areas of study, his own fault entirely, so he really could not be expected to know something like the year when the triple decker bus was invented.  It seemed luck was on his side for once because the Knight Bus was standing before him in all its brightly coloured glory.  Nimbly hopping out of his seat, the bus driver opened the doors for them and bid them entry.

“Hello! My name is Ernie Prang and I’ll be your diver this evening.  Take a seat anywhere you please, but make sure to mind your head!  It can be quite the bumpy ride.”  He spoke with a beaming smile.  It seemed the surprises were not done yet because Harry honestly never expected to run into this man again so far out of his own time.  As Harry and Tom board the bus and move to take their seats, Harry turns to look over Ernie’s shoulder and into the front of the cab.  Sure enough, hanging from the rearview mirror, is none other than the shrunken head.

“Oh, I see you’ve noticed my dear friend Dre!  He’s quite the interesting fellow!  Keeps me company driving throughout the day and night.  Great friend he is!”  Ernie explains when he notices Harry’s stare.

“You’re darn right I’m a great friend!  Keeping you from driving us all over a bridge!”  The shrunken head cackles in response.  “Not to mention all the little old ladies you’ve nearly paved the road with!”

Ernie blushes, but ignores the hysterical head.  Harry can’t help finding the entire situation amusing.

“Anyhow, where’ll we be heading today gentlemen?”  He directs the question at Harry.

“Hogsmead, if you can get us there.  Or at least as close to it as you can get.”  Harry replies.

“Hogsmead?  No problem!  We’ll get you there in no time.  Take your seats quick and we’ll be on our way!”

Knowing what is coming, Harry doesn’t dilly dally and quickly ushers Tom into the closest seat.  He slides Tom’s trunk underneath the seats and instructs him to hold on tight just before the bus lurches forward and takes off.  Harry barely manages to keep himself seated and when Tom goes flying out of his seat moments after the bus has taken off, it is only Harry’s seeker reflexes that keep Tom from becoming a smear on the window.

Ten agonizing minutes later, the bus comes to a screeching halt.  By this point, Harry’s exhausted and unfortunately doesn’t have the strength to keep himself nor Tom from crashing to the floor. Hard.

“I think I much preferred walking Mr. Pev- Harry.”  Tom quietly mumbles from somewhere underneath Harry.

Rolling to the side, Harry snorts out a laugh before slowly rising to his feet.  “Yeah, me too Tom.  Me too.”

Harry helps Tom off of the floor and ensures he does not have any injuries before collecting his trunk and leading him to the exit.  Ernie and Dre bid them both an exuberant farewell, which is returned with as much enthusiasm as can be mustered.

“Is all magical transportation like that?”  Tom inquires as they make their way to The Three Broomsticks.

“If you mean by ‘like that’ as in horribly unpleasant, well I might be a bit biased, but yeah.  I haven’t really had any good experiences with magical transport.  Well except flying.  Brooms are pretty brilliant!”  Harry replies.

“You can fly?” There was a hint of awe in Toms voice when he asked this.

Harry cannot help but smile at Toms astonishment. “Of course.  You’ll be able to as well one day.  First, though, we’ve got to get settled in.  But . . . maybe we can go flying together soon.”

A small, hesitant smile tugs at the corners of Toms lips at hearing this.  Harry’s reluctant to turn away when it seems like they are making some progress in trust, but they have finally reached The Three Broomsticks.  Harry tugs the doors open, leading Tom inside.  He quickly spots an empty table in the back and leads Tom to it.  It is not long before the barmaid who, unsurprisingly, is not Madam Rosmerta comes to take their order of supper.  Harry also books a room for the night.  Harry and Tom spend the evening quietly eating their supper and not much is said between them.  Tom mostly spends supper quietly conversing with his snake friend, who has decided it was safe to poke his head out of the neck of Toms shirt.  Harry was much too exhausted for conversation, especially since he still had a few more things to do, despite this being a prime moment to get to know Tom more.  Although, it did seem as if the excitement of the day was getting to Tom as well.  He nearly nodded off a few times throughout dinner and Harry had to gently nudge him awake.

When they completely finish off their supper, Harry and Tom make their way to the room they will be staying in for the night.  It is a quaint little space, with two twin beds sharing a side table holding a candle, as well as a door leading to a small toilet and one large wardrobe just beside it.  They did not have anything to unpack as they would just be staying for the night, so Harry quickly sent Tom into the toilet to get ready for bed as he rummaged through some of the clothes they just purchased for some sleepwear for Tom.  He was soon victorious and quickly passed them off to Tom, so he could change in privacy.  Having nothing else to do, Harry settles himself in one of the beds and relaxes for however long it takes for Tom to finish up.

A few minutes later, Tom emerges from the toilet and promptly gets comfortable in the one empty bed.  Harry leans over and blows out the candle, plunging the room into darkness.  It is less than ten minutes later when Harry hears soft snoring coming from underneath the covers of the bed beside him.  Knowing now is the time to move, lest he fall asleep himself, Harry reluctantly rises from the bed.  He is sure to keep his steps silent as he makes his way to the door.  Harry manages to speedily open the door and slip out before much light can shine through, but he still waits a moment at the door, listening for any sign of Tom waking.  When he does not hear any, he swiftly turns and heads back downstairs and out of the pub.  In the time that he and Tom were inside, the sun has set, and a smattering of stars is all that lights the sky.

Harry ducks into the alley beside the pub and pulls his invisibility cloak, which had been tucked into his shirt up until this point, out.  He carefully drapes it around himself, making sure to be completely covered, before silently heading to the Shrieking Shack.  Although it does not go by that name in this point in time, Harry still cannot think of it in any other way.  Though, consider the fact he has just purchased the property from the goblins, he should probably get used to calling it his own.

The night is somewhat chilly as fall will soon turn to winter in a few weeks’ time, so Harry is thankful for the little extra protection his cloak provides.  Soon enough the old building looms before Harry.  It is not quite as decrepit as it is in his time, but it is still quite the sorry sight.  Harry does not dawdle and promptly climbs the steps leading to the door, letting himself inside.  Everything is coated in a thick sheen of dust.  Harry can already feel his nose twitching despite the fact he has only been inside for a few moments.

“Right.  Here’s hoping this will work exactly as I need it to.”  Harry strides to the center of the room, peeling his cloak off on the way, and kneels down on the filthy floor.  Reaching in his pocket, Harry carefully pulls the shrunken vanishing cabinet out from within his trousers and gently places it on the floor.  He is cautious to make sure that there is not any furniture around that could cause an accident when the cabinet eventually expands and, when satisfied, swiftly rises from the ground.  He spares a moment to dust off his knees before pulling his cloak out once more and replacing it again around himself.

With that task done, Harry quietly exits the dilapidated building and starts striding toward Honeydukes.  Luckily, due to the time, there is only the occasional straggler walking the streets, so Harry does not have to attempt dodging anyone.  Harry maintains a brisk pace and only just manages to slip inside the shop as an employee is exiting and locking up for the night.

Harry makes his way down to the cellar and carefully opens the secret passage leading into Hogwarts.  The walk through the tunnel into the castle is quiet, aside from the occasional drip of water and scurry of a rat.  After around an hour of walking, Harry emerges into the third-floor corridor from the exit behind the statue of the One-Eyed Witch.  He surreptitiously glances around the hall but does not see or hear anyone around.  School only just started back up, so Harry must be extra careful of any wandering students, as well as any faculty patrolling the halls tonight.

“Now, if I remember correctly, the vanishing cabinet should be on the first floor.”  Harry hopes as he heads to the grand staircase and starts making his decent.  “How I’m going to get it up the stairs is already a big enough problem in and of itself.  I don’t need to add a bloody scavenger hunt to the list.”

Harry tiredly reaches the foot of the staircase and begins walking up and down the corridor in search of the cabinet.  Miraculously, he still does not come across any teachers, nor any students wandering the castle past curfew.  Harry finally spots the cabinet innocuously tucked into an alcove not far from the main staircase and he very nearly weeps tears of joy for small mercies.  The smaller the distance he needs to haul the cabinet, the better.  Harry opens the cabinet doors and grins at the sight that greets him.  The locket is innocuously laying inside as if it has always been there.  Harry uses the tip of his wand once again to pick up the locket and slip it into his back pocket.  With one more quick glance up and down the hall, Harry begins the long process of dragging the enormous piece of furniture down the hall and up the stairs.

What must have been at least three hours of grueling labor later, Harry stands half collapsed against the side of the object of his torture.  It probably would have been made slightly easier if Harry had allowed himself to remove his cloak while transporting the cabinet, but he did not feel comfortable standing out in the open without it.  “Constant vigilance and what not.”  Harry reminded himself every time he nearly gave into the idea.

Nevertheless, the task is nearly complete, and then Harry will be able to return the pub for some much-needed rest.  Harry pushes himself off of the cabinet from where he has been slouching, wanting to get this over and done with.  Standing just before him was the entrance to the girl’s lavatory on the second floor and Harry wastes no more time before pushing it open.  He is ever so grateful he does not yet, and hopefully never will, have to worry about being spotted by Moaning Myrtle.  As soon as he has the cabinet completely through the door, Harry shuts and locks it.  Finally allowing himself to remove his cloak, Harry stuffs it back down his shirt and walks over to the line of taps.  This is the one point he is not really sure on.  Harry knows exactly what he needs to do and what he wants to happen, he only hopes that it is actually possible.

Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Harry softly commands the tap, § “Open.” §

Harry watches as the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets reveals itself.  Taking a few steps forward, he stares down into the deep, dark pipe that will lead him down into the depths of Hogwarts.  Harry can only hope that what he is about to do does not render all the work he has just done null and void.  Harry pulls the cabinet forward, decreasing the few remaining meters that separate it from the pipe.  With much struggle, Harry manages to lay the cabinet on its side and only gets nearly flattened about four times before it is in place.  Ever so carefully, Harry slides the cabinet until the end of it hangs over the edge.  “Well, here goes nothing.  Hopefully, this doesn’t turn out like when Peeves first broke the cabinet during my second year.”  With that thought fresh in mind, Harry sends out a prayer to any who might be listening and tips the cabinet over the edge.  A moment later Harry jumps in after it whispering, § “close.” §  Moments later the light shining into the pipe from the toilet is swallowed up and Harry is plunged into complete darkness.

Chapter Text

            Harry and the cabinet meet the ground of the chamber with a crash and a yelp respectively.  He allows himself to take a moment to regain his bearings before rising from the bone littered ground and shuffling over to where the cabinet has landed.  After a thorough inspection, Harry finds that by some miracle both he and the cabinet have survived the plummet into the chamber with only a few scratches shared between them.

            With a sigh of relief, Harry once again takes up the arduous task of pushing the cabinet deeper into the chamber.  The sound of the cabinet scraping against the stone floor echoes loudly throughout the pipes.  Harry dearly hopes that the basilisk is still slumbering peacefully within the statue of Salazar Slytherin.  It would really be quite unfortunate for him to die so early into his mission.

            Eventually, Harry makes it to the entrance of the main chamber.  He positions the cabinet snugly against the wall just to the side of it.  “That should be a good enough security measure should someone manage to sneak into the shack and travel through the cabinets,” Harry muses.  “They won’t be able to get into the main chamber unless they know parseltongue.”  If that somehow happens, it can only be because of one person.  I that case, Harry’s going to have bigger problems on his plate than their home being breached.  Namely, dodging the curses Voldemort will be enthusiastically throwing his way, no doubt.

            Satisfied with his progress, Harry turns to face the stone door ornately decorated with snakes and softly requests it to open.  Cautiously walking into the main chamber, Harry pauses in slight surprise.  The chamber that greets him now is a much nicer sight than the one that greeted him all those years before.  It appears Harry has managed to get to the chamber before it flooded completely like it had in his time.  Instead, the chamber floor is smoothly polished and gleaming gently in the light erected from the torches springing to life as Harry steps further into the chamber.  The walls, and most importantly floor, aren’t damp in the slightest and the only body of water to be seen is the large pool at the back of the chamber that rests at the bottom of Slytherins statue.

            Shaking his head, Harry halts his admiring and gets back to business.  He quickly turns around and, just as he’d done with the cabinet, pulls the shrunken traveling trunk out of his pocket and places it against the wall to the left of the entrance.  With that done, Harry turns back around and starts making his way to Slytherins monstrous statue.  This is definitely the part Harry has been dreading the most.  It can only go one of two ways, either really well or incredibly badly.  Harry desperately hopes for a successful confrontation.

            Harry steels his nerves before calling out, § “Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four.” §

            Just as it had when he was twelve, the mouth of the statue slowly began to open.  Harry quickly closed his eyes and listened for the sound of stone scraping against stone to cease.  When silence met his ears, Harry carefully moved forward.  With his eyes still closed, Harry came to a stop at what he assumed was the base of the statue.

            § “Hello? I’m, er, a distant relative of the Slytherin family. I was hoping we could talk about the chamber?” §

            Harry anxiously waited for a reply.  When none was forthcoming, he cautiously squinted his eyes open.  After not immediately dropping dead, he threw caution to the wind and opened his eyes completely.  The dark cavern home to the basilisk is what greeted him, but strangely enough, the basilisk itself was nowhere to be seen.  Harry quickly scrambled up the mouth, no pun intended, of the opening and desperately searched around inside.  It was a circular cavern about the size of McGonagall’s transfiguration classroom.  Harry allowed himself the chance to marvel for a moment that a creature so large could comfortably fit itself in a space so small, but then the panic quickly made itself prevalent again.

            “Where on earth could the basilisk possibly be?”  Harry thought hysterically.  “It’s not as if it can leave the chamber on its own, right.  Right?”

            Just as this thought crossed Harry’s mind a loud splash greeted his ears.  Rushing to the opening, Harry couldn’t help balking at the sight that greeted him.  Emerging from the pool at the foot of the statue was none other than the basilisk.  It towered at least 7 meters above him as it raised itself out of the dark depths of the water.  Harry was so busy being horrified at the sight before him to realize he should probably close his eyes and bolt.

            The basilisk, with eyes closed and head raised to the ceiling, gently flickered its tongue out to scent the air.  Faster than lightening, the basilisk whipped its head in his direction and lunged.  Harry had no time to react before he was suddenly being entombed in coils upon coils of the serpent’s massive body.  Before he knew it, Harry was wrapped in complete darkness.  He could feel the shifting of powerful muscles sliding against his sides and pressing against his back.  Warm breath ruffled his hair and something cold and wet brushed against his cheek.

            § A human? Now how did a little human like you find its way into my chamber?” § A voice deep and ancient rumbled from the darkness surrounding him.

            Harry was trembling so strongly his legs would have surely given out if it wasn’t for the massive body supporting him.  Somehow, he had managed to repress just how terrifying being in the presence of such a creature had been as a child.  Or maybe it was that he didn’t quite grasp the concept of it at the time.  But now, there was absolutely nothing but pure primal fear coursing through his veins.  He gives a full body flinch as something cold and damp once again brushes against his cheek.

            § “Oh, don’t be scared. I haven’t decided to eat you yet, child.” § The voice sounds almost amused as it chides him.

            Harry’s voice shook as he finally managed to form a response.  § “My name is Harry Peverell.  My brother and I share the blood of Salazar Slytherin.  We were hoping you would grant us sanctuary in your chamber as it is dangerous for us to live among those on the surface.”  §

            § “Blood of Slytherin you say? § The voice gives a reverberating hum. § “I suppose you do share his gift.” §

            There was a small shifting of coils and then suddenly Harry’s entire vision was filled with a pair of enormous illuminous golden eyes.  He was petrified as those eyes gazed deeply into his own.  Distantly, Harry thought he might be about to pass out as his vision warped and his thoughts moved sluggishly inside his head.  “I’m about to die, aren’t I?”  Harry thought faintly.

            Though, just as suddenly as it had happened, Harry was once again plunged back into darkness as the serpent released him from its gaze.  Harry took in a large gulp of air as the invisible weight that had been previously suffocating him suddenly released from his chest.  It couldn’t have been more than a few moments, but the absolute power behind that gaze was enough to leave him desperately clawing his way back from the pull of insentience.

            Harry had walked into this chamber with the full intention that he would either make nice with the basilisk, or permanently dispose of it as he had once before.  Now, standing here painfully pulling in each rasping breath, he wonders how he could have possibly been so naive.

            § “I have looked into your heart, child, and your intentions toward my home are pure. It is because I willed it, that my gaze has not slain you on this day. I will grant you the protection of my home, and you will be grateful.  In return of my kindness, you will grant me your knowledge of the world beyond these walls, and I will not devour you in the days to come.” §

            With those words, the snake unwraps its coils from around him.  Harry collapses in a heap without the support and urgently attempts to regain his bearings.  Pushing himself off the cold floor onto his hand and knees, Harry hesitantly raises his head to look at the creature before him.  The basilisks body loosely surrounds him, the beast itself patiently waiting for him to scrape himself off of the floor.  Even with its closed eyes, Harry can feel the weight of its attention as it looks down upon him.

            § “Thank you, for your generosity.” § Harry somehow manages to say that with only a small waver in his voice.

            § “Your thanks are noted. I do look forward to meeting your kin. I wonder if his heart will share your sentiment.” §

            Without another word, Harry is powerless to resist as the basilisk gently but efficiently nudges him out of mouth of the statue and onto the stone beside the pool.  He watches as the snake coils upon itself and whispers words that have the mouth of the statue grinding shut.  Just before the entrance closes completely, Harry catches a glimpse of a sliver of gold.

            § “You may call me Naganika.” §

            Harry sits in silence for a few moments before managing to find the strength to stand.  He’s a bit wobbly on his feet, but Harry steadfastly ignores that and turns to head out of the chamber.  Luckily, it’s a short trek to the serpent encrusted door.  Harry wastes no time in opening it and slipping through.  He stands in front of the vanishing cabinet debating his options and trying to ignore the events that just transpired.

            "I really don’t think I can walk back through the entirety of the castle in my current state.”  Harry reluctantly admits to himself.  He doesn’t deliberate long after that before he is swinging open the door and locking himself inside.  “Here’s to hoping the other cabinets shrinking charm has worn off by now.  I’d rather not be crushed to death.”

            Somehow, Harry’s luck pans out for once.  As he steps out of the other cabinet and into the shrieking shack, he can’t help the dread pooling in his gut.  Harry numbly slips the invisibility cloak back on his shoulders and slowly journeys back to the Three Broomsticks.  Somehow, Harry makes it back, although he can’t quite remember how.  He quietly slinks inside the room he shares with Tom and slips into his own small bed.  As he lays there listening to Toms quiet breathing, Harry can’t stop a singular thought from racing through his head on repeat.  “I really hope Tom passes the basilisks test.” 

            Harry sleeps fitfully that night.  He’s unfortunately used to it.