Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

July 31, 1980

“Look, James! Twins!”

“I see them, Lily. They’re- They’re.. beautiful. I love them.”

“Me too, James. What should we name them?”

“How about Daniel, for this one?”

“That sounds perfect. And you..”

He felt himself being cradled close by his mother, even if he was unable to open his eyes thanks to the sudden change in light, and his newly-born body.

“..You will be my little Harry.”

…..

Hallowe’en, 1981

Lily knew Harry wasn’t a normal child. In fact, he was already talking in coherent words at only over a year old, and had been for a while. The baby had also begun walking much sooner than most children would, including his twin brother, Daniel.

She knew the vibrant green of Harry’s eyes shouldn’t look as all-knowing, or as old as they do. They shouldn’t look so distant and cold when Harry zones out, but they do.

She knew Harry shouldn’t be able to do any form of magic, but that didn’t stop him from summoning things across the room into his hand at a moment’s notice, like he’d been doing it for years.

To be completely honest, Harry scared her sometimes. Lily was aware he wasn’t just a baby, but they had gone into hiding and there was no way to figure out what exactly was wrong. She knew he wasn’t a baby, and sometimes, with his dark green eyes that matched her own, but were still so different, she wondered if Harry was even human.

But, just like Lily had her worries about her son, she was still his mother. And for all the worrying she did, her love for the boy was unconditional. Harry got along with Daniel, who tried to follow Harry and be the second prodigy in the household.

For the most part, Danny, with his fiery red hair and soft brown eyes, was a very quick learner. If Harry learned how to do something, Danny would know the next day.

However, none of this explained why her little Harry was standing in front of his brother’s crib, looking rightly determined to protect Danny from the threat in front of them. Harry was supposed to be sleeping soundly in his own crib, like his twin, instead of facing off against the darkest wizard of their time.

Voldemort.

Lily was petrified on the ground, unable to move, nor say a word. She had been forgotten as soon as she’d been beaten, luckily not tortured. But, she had a front row seat to the deaths of both her children, and was that not, in it’s own way, torture? (Lily would take a thousand Crucios if it meant her kids would live.)

But despite her pleas to the heavens, Harry did not back down from the dark wizard, not that it would help. However, it might save him from being tortured before death.

So, the last thing she expected was for Harry to start speaking to the Dark Lord.

“Tom Marvolo Riddle!” Harry yelled in a deep tone, not one she’d ever heard him use before. His voice demanded attention and respect, radiating more power than she’d ever seen before.

The Dark Lord, to Lily’s utmost surprise, flinched at the name, pointing his wand at little Harry like the one year old child was a threat.

“How do you know that name, brat?!” The insane wizard didn’t even wait for an answer, just shooting curses at the baby in rapid succession.

Her child merely waved his hand, blocking all of the curses with the simple motion. She didn’t even care how he did it, how he blocked all the curses, she was just so grateful, and she wanted to run over to him—both of her children—and hold them, and never let them go.

Lily didn’t care about the stupid prophecy, destined to affect one of her children. She just wanted both of her children to be safe and happy. Was that really too much to ask?

Harry—her small son, only a babe—only glared at the Dark Lord, as if he was nothing more than a nuisance. And Lily couldn’t find it in her to be surprised anymore, more focused on how utterly grateful she was that Harry was alive, even when Harry started hissing. He gave the foul wizard the same look he gives James, when the boy’s father is being incredibly stupid.

She watched the Dark Lord hiss back, as if it physically pained him that he wasn’t sending a curse instead. But—it’s not possible—, were they speaking Parseltongue? But how would Harry, her little Harry, know Parseltongue?!

Lily remembers right then and there that Harry had never been a normal baby.

She vows at that moment to never forget it again.

…..

“~I will not allow you to harm my brother.~” Harry stated clearly, glaring threateningly at the Dark Lord he was so familiar with.

Voldemort hissed back. “~How is it you speak in Serpent Tongue?!~”

Harry took a small step forward, as much as he could in his small body. “~The prophecy will not come true if you don’t do anything, Riddle. It is self-fulfilled.~”

“~What do you know of the prophecy?!~”

Harry wanted to sigh. For such a smart wizard, Tom could be incredibly stupid sometimes. “~It is not your concern, as I will kill you and all of your horcruxes if you touch my brother.~”

Voldemort hissed again, no words, just blatant hissing. Most likely, a jumble of incoherent swear words and spells. Finally, after almost a minute of slipping over his own (forked?) tongue, Voldemort regains his bearings, but not by much. “~How- How?! How do you know about any of this?!~”

And now Harry wanted to just go back to sleep, because this was tiring and completely unproductive for both of them. He yawned, vaguely answering with a dull tone. “~If I tell you I’m a god, will you leave?~”

Voldemort seemed to regard his answer for a few moments, leaving Harry to glare at him flatly while dealing with his indecisiveness. Eventually, not soon enough (in Harry’s important opinion), the Dark Lord took a threatening step forward. “~Come with me.~”

Harry stared at him incredulously. He couldn’t even be bothered to answer in Parseltongue. “Uh, no? Absolutely not. Why would I do something so stupid?”

Voldemort’s anger spiked. Luckily (for him), the Dark Lord wasn’t as stupid as he could’ve been, which would have been attacking. Instead, he tried to salvage the situation. “~I will leave your family alone if you come with me.~”

Harry, barely over a year old, raised a single eyebrow, pulling off the perfect doubtful face. “You know what? Fine. I’ll come with you for however long you want, and you’ll leave my family alone.” He narrowed his eyes. “But touch my family andyou will pay.”

Voldemort didn’t respond, only smirked in his triumph. Harry doubted he would heed to warning.

The Dark Lord proceeded to hold his hand out for Harry to grab, most likely to apparate to his home or base or wherever. The small child gave the hand an appalled glare, trotting right past and ignoring the wizard.

Harry crouched in front of his mother, sending her a reassuring smile. “I am leaving for a while, Mother. I know it pains you, but please do not search for me, lest Riddle do something drastic.”

Voldemort impatiently cleared his throat, with which Harry responded by casting a non-verbal Silencing Charm on him.

“Danny is the chosen one of the prophecy, but please keep Albus away from him. The old coot has plans for my brother- plans to manipulate him into the perfect pawn. He expects Danny to have a certain attribute—a mark, if you will—that I have prevented. He will use my disappearance against you to further my brother, using the excuse of ‘For the Greater Good’. If Daniel goes down this path, he will die.”

Harry paused, making sure his serious tone was understood. His mother’s eyes were full of fear, but determination as well.

“As a precaution, I have made sure you cannot leak this information. If Dumbledore finds out you know, he will kill you. He will set it up so you are a casualty of the war, furthering Daniel to act out the prophecy. Try to avoid eye contact, as he is a Legilimens, and has no problem probing through your mind.”

Harry glanced back to find Voldemort trying to counter the silencing spell, failing, and was a mix of both annoyed and intrigued.

“I do not know when I will be back, but I will be going to Hogwarts with my brother, no matter Riddle’s wishes. I am aware you know I’m not a normal child, if this conversation is anything to go by. But, even knowing something was off, you still love me unconditionally, and for that, I thank you. When I return, I will tell you what I am, but for now, I ask that you trust that I will be alright. Please reassure Dad that I am fine, along with Siri and Remmy. Moony misses you guys a lot, but feels he should have expected his friends to leave him. After all, who could trust a werewolf?”

Harry cocked his head to the side.

“Pettigrew was the real traitor. Though, you should know that, seeing as he was the Secret Keeper. That reminds me, no matter what, do not let Sirius leave the house tonight. Once he learns of Pettigrew’s betrayal, he will leave the house for revenge. Peter will escape, and Sirius will be blamed for killing multiple muggles and put in Azkaban without a trial, courtesy of Dumbledore.”

The child leans down, planting a kiss on his mother’s forehead. “I love you, along with Dad and Danny and Sirius and Remmy, too. Please heed my warnings and be safe.”

Harry leans back, walking over to where Voldemort was impatiently waiting, a scowl on his face and arms crossed. (Riddle gave up rather quickly on the curse, Harry mused.) He gives his mother one last glance. “And one last thing, Snape is a terrible person, but make Dad get rid of the life debt.”

…..

Harry takes Voldemort’s hand, and as they apparate away (breaking the wards), Lily finds herself able to move again. The first thing she does, after making sure her little Daniel is alright, is break down on the floor and cry. She doesn’t know if it’s because of happiness that her children survived, or if it’s from the sadness of losing one of her sons.

By the end of the night, after dealing with everything else, Lily thinks it was from both.

…..

“Tell me all you know.” Voldemort demanded as soon as they touched ground… wherever they were. Probably Riddle Manor, from the looks of it.

They’re in a fairly large room, with dark green and cream colored walls, and a couple pictures of random items or places. There’s a table surrounded by two couches and a single recliner chair, with both books and papers stacked on it. Around them, there are several bookshelves, but from Harry’s quick glance, it’s nothing he hasn’t read before.

Instead of catering to the Dark Lord’s every demand like everybody else, Harry, in all his year-old glory, crosses his arms. “No.”

“You dare defy me, child?!” Voldemort all but screeched, reminding the boy faintly of someone he used to know, who may or may not go by the name of Bellatrix Lestrange.

“Uh, yeah, I do.” Harry answers simply, raising an eyebrow at the elder wizard. “There’s no possible way for you to learn anything from me, no matter how you try, unless I willingly give you the information.”

Voldemort’s eyes flared with a controlled anger. “Obviously, I mistook you for someone smarter, despite your puny body. You will be begging to tell me everything you know within two minutes under the torture I will inflict upon you!”

Harry sighed, clearly not impressed. “Well? Do your worst.”

Voldemort paused, caught off guard by the boy’s nonchalant attitude.

“Get on with it, already. Or are you just going to stand there all day?” The child faked a yawn, slightly wondering if a vein was going to pop in Voldemort’s head, like it does in anime.

Sadly for Harry’s curiosity, it didn’t. Instead, the Dark Lord pointed his wand and yelled “Crucio!”

The spell fizzled out before it touched Harry.

“Wha- But how?! Tell me!” Voldemort commanded the young child.

“Right, listen.” Harry started, giving the elder wizard a bored look. “I’m only telling you this so you don’t drive me insane pestering me about it. Not that it’ll do any good… Anyways, here’s the deal. Are you listening?”

“You are not in a position to make demands of me, child.” Voldemort sneered.

Harry only smirked, pulling it off quite well for only being fifteen months old. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong~! The short version is: I’m Master of Death and have conquered, or ‘killed’, you in a previous lifetime, rendering you unable to harm me, no matter how you may try. Though I am quite curious to see what, exactly, you’ll try..”

…..

“Albus, what do we do?!” James asked, desperate to get his son back.

It had been over two years (two years and two months, to be precise) since little Harry had disappeared, and Albus was running out of ideas to try. He had never expected Tom to kidnap one of the children.. Perhaps Tom was raising Harry as a minion, thinking that the Potters would never be able to hurt, or kill, their own child.

Albus was more surprised that Voldemort was able to raise a child in the first place. Most likely, he had some of his Death Eaters tasked with raising Harry. For Tom to raise a child, he would have to show restraint on his anger, lest he kill the child.

Most people had given up searching for the Potter twin, simply because it had been two years, and it was easy to assume to child was dead. Albus, however, knew differently. He had placed discreet spells on all three of the prophecy children, since he had no way of telling which the Dark Lord would choose until he did. In fact, he still did not know, but he would have to guess it was Harry, from the way things went.

James was unhelpful in the confirmation, since he was stunned downstairs during the attack. Lily, however, was an entirely different story.

She said she had a perfect view of the whole ordeal, having been stunned in the doorway. She told Albus that she heard Harry say the name “Tom Marvolo Riddle” and then start hissing a bunch, but no, that would be impossible… For a child to know Voldemort’s true name, and speak Parseltongue nonetheless.

Lily said they had spoken in that tongue for a while, and for some reason, without Voldemort cursing the child even once, until the very end with another stunner. He apparated with Harry in his arms, which was the last anybody had heard from Voldemort since then.

Once they had disappeared, Sirius came bounding in, ready for revenge on Pettigrew, but Lily stopped him from leaving the house that night.

All of that added up, somehow, but what was strange was how Lily did not seem to mind that her child was missing. She had not been frantically worrying about his well-being, like James, Sirius, and Remus. (Lily had been rather insistent they apologize and rekindle their friendship with the werewolf.) Rather, she took care of Daniel like nothing was wrong.

Another thing was how she refused to show her memories in a pensieve. Lily said Voldemort must’ve messed with her head, somehow, making her unable to show the conversation to anybody. Which turned out truer than Albus would have liked, once he learned that he could not watch the memory through discreet legilimency. It was as if it was blocked off from the outside world, put in its own occlumency shield. Albus had never heard of magic like that, but he supposed Tom was quite smart in some aspects. Sadly, not the right ones…

What Albus found the most strange, though, was how Lily seemed to be avoiding him. She almost always finds an excuse to dodge and evade him, no matter what the Headmaster insisted. If there was one things Gryffindors were known for, it was their stubborn personality.

However, even when avoiding him, she was very discreet about it. Albus wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t watching for it. He was rarely let near Daniel without Lily around, who had matured very quickly for his age.

Daniel could do little bursts of accidental magic almost at will, like summoning a toy from across the room. When he asked James about it, he said that Danny had always tried to copy Harry, when he was here…

Albus asked about Harry. James and Sirius both told him that Harry was—had been—a prodigy. He had been walking and even talking before that Halloween night, along with doing quite a bit of accidental magic. Albus asked carefully, as to not arouse suspicion, why he had never been told about Harry’s talents, or at least, not to that extent. James had replied with a shrug, “I guess we just forgot to mention it.”

Albus didn’t believe that for one minute; something deeper, darker, was going on in that house, and he was going to find out what. It obviously had something to do with Harry, who was now in the Dark Lord’s clutches. What had Tom seen in the boy? Did he kidnap him just because Harry could apparently speak Parseltongue (which is enough reason itself), because of the boy’s magic powers, how Harry had yelled Voldemort’s real name (information not well-known), or was it because he was a Potter and intended to raise him as a Death Eater?

“We’ll think of something, my boy. Let us just hope Voldemort hasn’t done too much damage by the time we get him back..” Albus hoped that was true. Harry had an important role to live up to, and somebody’s youngest years are their most impressionable.

…..

Six Months into the Kidnapping

“Oi, Voldy, come here!” Harry yelled from a different room, snickering under his breath.

“What do you want you infernal child?! Are you finally ready to tell m- AGH-” Voldemort walked through the doorway, right into Harry’s trap.

Harry had put saran wrap in the doorway, which Voldemort ran right into. The ‘most evil dark lord of their time’ fell on the floor, tangled in the product of his prank.

After a few months of trying out every possible torture method he could think of, Voldemort had given up trying to force it out of him, realizing it was pointless. Instead, he was trying to annoy it out of Harry, though the man denied it to the moon and back, saying it was ‘tactical persuasion’. Harry was sure he would’ve tried being nice, if he weren’t resident Dark Lord and didn’t have a single nice bone in his body… The fact that Harry kept doing small pranks probably didn’t help. But to be fair, Harry only did the pranks when Voldemort tried to annoy the answers out of him. Which was.. daily.

Right now, though, Harry was laughing on the floor, clutching his stomach from laughing so hard. Harry was sure he was gonna die from how hard he was laughing. Even while laughing, he still found enough breath to say “He needs some milk,” sending the child into another bout of laughing.

Finally, after a few moments of flailing under the saran wrap, Voldemort freed himself. “Potter! I told you to cease these stupid pranks!”

Harry stood up, putting his hands on his hips. “And I told you not to annoy me about information.”

“Where did you even get this?! This is a muggle product!”

Harry shrugged, feigning innocence. “I dunno. A grocery store?”

“What is a grocery store? Wait- you never left the manor! My wards would’ve told me!”

“Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. Your wards are useless against me.” Harry replied.

And, of course, upon gaining new information, Voldemort whips out his handy-dandy (muggle) notebook he carries around, to write any new information he learns about Harry in. Harry hears him mutter under his breath, “Wards.. are.. ineffective..”

He keeps the notebook open, glancing from the paper to Harry. “And what did you mean by ‘He needs some milk’? What would falling have to do with milk? Is there a falling spell that is countered by milk?”

Harry tries to hold back a laugh, but fails. “Right, I’m answering this only because that was the funniest thing I’ve heard, and you’ll hate the answer. It’s a muggle vine.”

“What is a vine? You don’t mean the plants? What does that have to do with milk?”

Harry sighed. “Vines are basically video clips that have turned into memes by being popular.”

“Potter?”

Harry glanced up, just to see Voldemort scribbling down in the notebook again. “Yes?”

“What are.. memes?”

…..

One Year and Four Months into the Kidnapping

“What book are you reading?” Voldemort sat in the chair across from Harry, opening his own book. They were in the library in the Riddle Manor, so Voldemort knew all of the books here.. except the one Harry had. He had learned, by now, that if he tries to sneak a peek at Harry’s books, even only the cover, Harry would vanish it to Merlin-knows-where. It was hard to remember the boy was only two and a half years old, even considering his size and looks.

“Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. American Edition.” Harry replied, flipping a page nonchalantly.

Voldemort’s interest was piqued, but he kept his eyes on his own book. “What, really? What’s it about?”

“My first year at Hogwarts back in a different life.”

He risked a glance up. “Can I read it?”

“No.”

Voldemort looked back down at his own book, barely put off by the answer. He hadn’t expected anything different in the first place.

…..

One Year and Ten Months into the Kidnapping

“Potter, what in the name of Merlin is that.” Voldemort asked.. Or stated? It was in the form of a question, but it didn’t come out that way.

Harry ignored him. The boy was laying on the floor in his room on his stomach, kicking his legs back and looking at a glowing screen. He had something in his ears that was blocking sound, it looked like, that was plugged into the screen.

“Potter.”

“ POTTER.”

Harry finally noticed the impatient Dark Lord, glancing over, then taking out one of the things in his ears. “Hm?”

“What in the name of Merlin is that?!” He asked again.

Harry glanced at his screen, tapping on it, then looking back over. “I’d show you, but you really won’t like it. Or maybe you would. I dunno.”

“Is this like those ‘memes’ you told me about?”

“This is worse.”

“I doubt it can be worse than the time you snuck into my Death Eater meeting and starting ranting off a bunch of your ‘vines’.” Voldemort put a hand on his hip, disbelief lacing his words.

Harry grinned. “Ah, I remember that. That was fun. Two of your Death Eaters started fighting under their breath while you were busy with something, so I started saying ‘Can I get a waffle? Can I please get a waffle?” I doubt half the people there know what a waffle is.”

“Yes, and nobody knew you were there, either. We all just heard a voice talking about waffles.”

“I think I gave at least two of them heart attacks; they were so on edge the rest of the meeting.”

Voldemort sighed. “And then you had the audacity to mutter things in my ear the rest of the time. One of them told me about the casualties of an attack, and you whispered ‘When will you learn, when will you learn that your actions have consequences!’ in an increasingly high pitched voice.”

“Hey, it made you laugh!”

“I know and I regret it.”

Harry snickered at his pain. “Anyways, this,” he gestured to his electric thing, “is definitely a lot worse.”

“Is it magic?” Voldemort questioned, looking suspicious, and rightfully so.

“Nope! It’s muggle technology. This is a tablet. Won’t be created for another two or three decades, if things stay the same. But that’s not the point.” Harry looked at Voldemort, a serious look in his eye. “Are you sure you’ll be able to handle it? I know you are aware of what muggles are capable of, out of anybody.”

The Dark Lord looked wary, but determined. “Show me.”

Harry would let him off the hook this one time for ordering him around, because Voldemort was going to suffer enough anyways.

“Well, Voldy,” He received a smirk. “Get ready for Potter. Puppet. Pals.”

Chapter Text

“I’m going to have that blasted song stuck in my head for the rest of the month. I’m never going to be able to look at him, or even hear his name, without the stupid song getting stuck in my head.” Voldemort pinched his nose.

Harry, on the other hand, was being a little devil. “… Snape, Snape, Severus Snape.”

“I would hex you if I could.” Voldemort responded, not even turning around.

If Harry was a little taller, and not a dinky three year old, he would’ve patted Voldy’s shoulder sympathetically. “We can take the rest of them slowly.”

“There’s more?!”

“Oi, don’t insult Snape’s Diary. That video was a blessing.”

Slowly, Voldemort turned around. “There’s a video about Snape’s Diary?”

Harry nodded.

“We’re watching it. Now.”

Harry grinned.

…..

Two Years and Two Months into the Kidnapping

“My Lord! I have important news!” A Death Eater bowed before his lord, panting heavily from running.

Voldemort seemed disinterested. “Well, what is it? Spit it out.”

“We’ve- We’ve captured Sirius Black! He’s James Potter’s best friend! We found him trying to sneak into the Manor, but he triggered the wards.”

The Dark Lord glanced over, raising a non-existent eyebrow. He faintly wondered if Harry was close to this person. The Potter brat only said not to attack his family, and as far as he knew, Sirius Black was not related to the Potters. So it should be fine if Voldemort disposed of this person, correct? After all, he was the one who tried to break in.

Voldemort ignored the warning bells of common sense, telling him that this was a bad idea.

…..

Harry felt the moment Sirius stepped onto the grounds. He also felt the moment Sirius was captured by Death Eaters.

He also also felt the moment Voldemort walked towards the cell his godfather was being held in.

With no more than half a thought about it, Harry silently apparated to the dungeon, masking himself under an invisibility spell. He would watch from the background to see if Voldemort would uphold his promise.

There were no Death Eaters in sight, in the darkness of the underground. They were probably told to leave the prisoner alone once he was taken care of.

Only a minute later, Voldemort strode in, in all his snake-face glory. “Well, well. It seems my Death Eaters have caught a blood traitor. How foolish must you be to trespass on my manor.”

“Give Harry back, you cold-blooded murderer!” Sirius replied. His arms were bound behind his back in metal chains, forcing him on his knees.

‘Glad to see Sirius still has spunk, even after he’s captured and in the presence of the Dark Lord,’ Harry mused.

The Dark Lord fingered his wand, bringing Sirius’ attention to the stick. “I could kill you, but I won’t.”

Harry glanced at Voldy incredulously, squinting. Really? He was keeping his promise?

Voldemort continued. “Not yet, at least.”

Dangit Tom.

“The Potter brat is safe. You’ll find he has been.. enjoying his time here.” To everyone else, Voldemort’s emphasis would mean that Harry really isn’t. To Harry and Voldemort, it means that his enjoyment comes from Voldy’s pain.

“What have you done to Harry! Give my Godson back, you freak!”

Harry flinched. He did not like that word.

Harry also saw the buried emotions in Voldemort—Tom—come out for a split second. If he had blinked, he would’ve missed it.

In another split second, Voldemort’s wand was pointed at Sirius. “Crucio.”

Harry barely apparated in time to block the spell out. The red light fizzled out upon contact with his clothes, even while still invisible.

“Wha-” Sirius stared blankly, and Voldemort wasn’t doing much better.

Harry removed the invisibility spell off of himself, letting his glare be seen clearly by Voldemort. “Tom, did you forget our deal?”

“You are not related to Black!” he retorted, and Harry could see he hesitated for a moment afterwards, questioning it. Already too late.

“I have told you that Sirius is my Godfather, have I not?” If it were a different situation, Harry would find it amusing that Voldemort was being stood up to by a three year-old.

Voldemort opened his mouth to say something, but froze, then closed it. There was no excuse; Harry had told him that Black was his Godfather, but it had escaped his mind. Sirius Black was Harry’s family, and he had broken the one rule Harry made.

Harry continued. “I will be leaving, and taking Sirius with me.” He paused, and something flashed in his eyes. “I know you’re probably glad to get rid of me, anyways. I was nothing but a bother to you.” He sent a lop-sided grin to the Dark Lord that looked a bit too real yet still so fake, then apparated away, taking Sirius with him. The chains fell to the floor with a clang.

The Dark Lord was left alone in the darkness of his dungeon. The faint glow of the candle was the only thing keeping the room from being pitch black, and it was just enough for him to see the remnants of where Harry had been just moments before.

Voldemort wanted to tell Harry—what did he want to tell the Potter brat? Now that the little menace was gone, it was true he wouldn’t get pranked with muggle products, and that he wouldn’t have to conform to the little devil’s wishes, but…

Instead, the Dark Lord found himself frowning. He did not like that Harry was gone. His chest hurt, and his eyes were glued to the spot Harry was just standing on.

...He felt… lonely.

Empty.

…..

Harry and Sirius fell to the ground with a ‘plop’. Well, actually, Sirius did. Harry landed perfectly fine, softly touching the snow on the ground.

As soon as he gained his bearings, Sirius scrambled up into a sitting position. He had snow in his hair and on his clothes, but didn’t even bother to brush it off. Sirius looked around their surroundings and was met with a familiar site. “Wha- But, how?!” His head swung towards Harry, who, despite everything he could do, still looked three. “Are you.. Are you really Harry?”

“It’s me, Uncle Siri.” Harry grinned. “I’m home.”

In front of them was Godric’s Hallow, the house of the Potters, with a blanket of snow covering the house.

Harry was quite amused at the fact they didn’t change houses, only reset the Fidelius Charm. Peter and Voldemort wouldn’t know where it was anymore, despite having been there before. The toddler had to admit, it was a pretty smart move. Harry totally would spite someone by doing the exact same thing.

Sirius’ face broke out in such a huge smile that Harry almost felt bad for leaving in the first place. His godfather didn’t question anything Harry said or had done, but instead grabbed his hand and excitedly dragged him up the front porch. “Come on, kiddo!”

Harry let himself be dragged with a matching grin on his face.

Sirius stopped at the front door, bouncing up and down from excitement. He knocked on the door and impatiently waited in place.

Harry wondered if Sirius represented the dog animagus or the dog animagus represented Sirius. The latter, most likely.

After almost a full minute of his godfather bouncing up and down, the front door finally opened. Sirius was met face first with a wand.

The wand lowered upon realizing who it was. “Come on, mate. You know I have something against opening doors on holidays.” James Potter scratched his head, making his unruly hair even worse. Or the same, depending on how you looked at it.

But James was right. It was a holiday. Christmas Eve, to be exact. Harry was going to get to spend Christmas with his family, and his twin brother.

((A.N. I don’t know the specifics of Yule, or whatever magical holiday it would be, so I’m gonna write it as Christmas.))

In the back of his mind, Harry realized that if he hadn’t saved Sirius from Voldemort’s clutches, James would’ve lost two important people to him on a holiday.

“Sorry I’m a bit late, but I got you the best Christmas present EVER!!” Sirius exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air wildly.

Harry swore James got that deadpan look on his face from when he was here as a baby. He wore it often enough, after all. “Oh?”

Sirius stepped aside, putting the spotlight on Harry.

James’ breath hitched. His eyes widened. “Is.. Is—Is that..” He paused, choking on a sob. “.. Harry?”

Harry smiled. “It’s me, Dad.”

“James!” Lily’s voice yelled from the room over. “What’s taking you so long?!”

“Lily, it’s.. HARRY! HARRY’S BACK!” James yelled, crashing into his son with a giant hug. If Harry weren’t literally invincible. he felt he would’ve been crushed.

“What? Harry?” Remus’ voice sounded from another room.

Both of the other adults quickly scrambled to the front door to take a look at the Potter’s long lost son. They froze upon seeing him, letting Harry take the initiative.

“Hi, Mom, Remmy. I’m back.” Harry waved.

“HARRY!!!” They all yelled at the same time.

He was ushered into the house. The door was only closed because Harry shut it with his magic; it had been long forgotten otherwise. He was picked up (he was in a three year-old’s body) and passed around to each of the adults, who all wanted to cuddle and hug and make sure he was actually there. He was actually there and real and not leaving.

All of the adults finally entered the living room with a giant decorated pine-tree full of little hand-made ornaments, most of which were probably by another three year-old.

Danny.

His twin brother was sitting on a couch, half sunk-in, pretending a candy-cane was a wand and swooshing it around. Sparks were coming out of the end in an array of colors, but it was magic nonetheless.

The fiery red-haired boy caught sight of his brother, and big hazel eyes widened even more. “Harry!”

The toddler practically lunged off the couch and jumped into Harry’s arms, which weren’t that much bigger than his. Actually, they were the exact same size. Their only difference was that Danny had Lily’s hair and James’ eyes, while Harry had James’ hair and Lily’s eyes.

“Danny!” Harry happily hugged his brother. In all his past lives, he’d never really had a sibling he was close to. Nor did he have a twin, and Harry was determined to make the most of it this time.

In the background, Harry heard the adults muttering among themselves.

“Lily, we need to go pick up Christmas presents for Harry!!”

“Ooh, James, you’re right!!”

“I’m.. going to stay here. You two have fun.” Remus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll watch the kids. You two have fun. Don’t get kidnapped by any Dark Lords.”

“Lilyyyyyyyyyy.” James’ whined.

“Come on James!!” Sirius pushed him out of the door, eager to buy a couple gifts before all of the shops closed.

The door slammed shut, and Harry and Danny still hadn’t let go of each other.

“I missed you.” Both twins spoke at the same time, then glanced at each other in surprise with wide eyes, until they both broke out in huge grins.

Perhaps this, Harry mused, is what having a sibling feels like.

Harry was led around the house by Danny, who was excited to show his brother all of his favorite spots and toys. Harry took it all in stride, showing his brother new things he would enjoy, and sometimes teaching Danny how to do a bit of magic. The adults trailed after the two for a little bit, until they realized they could enjoy some peace and quiet while the twins were occupied.

Two hours later, which was actually fairly quickly for James and Sirius when they went shopping, they returned with arms full of gifts. The bundle of presents were promptly placed under the already-full Christmas tree, filled with other gifts to everyone in the house. They came home to Lily and Remus drinking hot chocolate in the living room, quietly chatting among themselves. Harry and Danny were sitting on the floor playing with a couple magical toys and explaining the magical theory behind each of them.

James and Sirius stopped and stared at that for a second, but quickly moved on because they were hungry, and dinner had been delayed (for a really good reason, but still!), and they were really hungry.

“Lily! Is the food done?!”

“James, I am right here. You do not need to yell.” Lily sighed, getting up anyways. “And yes, the food is done.”

Remus knelt down in front of the twins. “Come on kiddos, time to eat.”

The kids made their way to the table and sat down, never letting go of each other’s hand. All of the adults were thankful that Harry and Danny were getting along so well, despite it being over two years since they’d last seen each other.

Their dinner was a full-on feast, complete with a roast with gravy, potatoes, carrots, mushrooms, onions, and an assortment of other things. James refused to eat the roast like usual, but had no qualms with the vegetables, even though they had been cooked with the meat.

The twins were practically sharing a chair because they were scooted so close together, and halfway through the dinner, they had somehow decided it was easier just to share a single plate. The adults were all asking Harry questions of where he’d been and what’d he’d been doing for the past couple years (in toddler talk, nonetheless), and Harry could see the underlying fear in their eyes (except for Lily).

They were scared that Voldemort brain-washed him. Rightfully so, Harry mused; the Dark Lord would’ve most definitely tried that. (He did, at one point. It didn’t come close to working. Harry showed him muggle hypnosis the next day.)

“So Harry, how did you get away from the big, mean, Dark Lord?” James almost cooed, bordering baby-talk.

Sirius butted in, like he had just suddenly remembered their dastardly escape. “Harry apparated!”

“He what?!”

“Yeah! He-who-must-not-be-named was there after I had gotten captured by the Death Eaters-”

“You what?!”

“- and snake-face was rambling on about how he was gonna torture me, and of course, being the great me, I stood him up! That turned out to be a pretty bad idea, actually, ‘cause he tried to Crucio me a second later, but then the spell just fizzled away! Like it had a wall or something, and just kinda dispersed. Another second later, Harry was there, standing in front of me, standing up to the Dark Lord too! Except, instead of shooting curses at the tyke, he just started talking to our little Harry, about me I think, but half of it was in hissing so I couldn’t understand. And then- Harry spoke back to him, saying that I was his godfather, and honestly, I was about to get really emotional there, even chained to the ground and in the presence of Mr. Evil-dude! And Harry turned around after saying his piece, and rendering the Dark Lord flabbergast, and he grabbed onto my clothes and next thing I know, I’m outside of the Potter house with little Prongs next to me! And I knocked on the door, and you were so slow opening the door and then you finally opened up and I showed you little Harry next to me, and-”

“Yes, Padfoot, thank you, but we know this part. I was there, remember?”

Sirius finally stopped rambling, having enough decency to looked bashful. “Oh, right, sorry. I got carried away.” And he promptly shoved a large piece of steak in his mouth.

James turned back to his son. “So, uh, I think my question got answered..” He ruffled his hair. “Did Mr. Evil-Snake-face-dude ever tell you why he took you away?”

“He thought he could use me as a means to learn magic.” Harry replied in a monotone voice, squeezing his brother’s hand. At the moment, he hadn’t decided how much to tell James or Sirius. They were deep within Dumbledore’s clutches, and Harry didn’t want them to report everything to the old coot. He knew that Dumbledore would try to control his life even more than before if he knew that Harry was powerful, and it would be much worse if he realized Harry was the Master of Death.

Even if Harry could easily rid the world of Dumbledore, it would do more harm than good in the end. Many people believed him to be the physical embodiment of the light, and would take offense to somebody attacking him in any way, shape, or form.

Harry would much rather just lie low and let Danny live a relatively normal life, not stressing under the constant gaze of Dumbledore.

“What did you do at the mean Dark Lord’s place?” Remus tried.

Harry humored him. “I would mostly read or play pranks on Moldyshorts.”

James and Sirius shared a look, then promptly burst out laughing for a good five minutes. “You- You were playing pranks on the most evil wizard of our time!”

“That’s my Harry alright!!”

“He’s my son, Pads!”

“I’m officially adopting him!”

Remus sighed at his two best friends, but also gave Harry an intrigued look. “You know how to read? What kind of books did you read?”

Harry nodded. “Mostly whatever I found on the shelves. Sometimes a novel.”

“That’s wonderful, Harry!” Lily smiled, joining the conversation. However, there was a gleam in her eyes, telling Harry she wasn’t surprised that he’d been able to read at only age three. “Danny is pretty good at reading too, aren’t you?”

“Yeah! I can read all the kids books in our room, but bigger books are super hard for me still..” The fiery redhead shoveled mashed potatoes into his face, hazel eyes glinting with determination.

“I’ll help you with them.” Harry smiled.

“Hooray!!!” Danny hurriedly ate the rest of his dinner, after asking if Harry wanted any more of what was on their plate. He then dragged Harry upstairs to their room, and the two sat down and read one of the books Danny had been having trouble with. It was a decent sized book, too, meant for kids around eight years old.

Danny fell asleep a few pages in, with his whole body leaning against Harry’s. Even while asleep, Danny kept a tight hold on his brother’s hand.

Harry closed the book and set it aside, and went to brushing his hand through Danny’s hair until Lily came in a few minutes later. She gently laid Danny in his bed, then turned to Harry. Her eyes were filled with so many mixed emotions, it was hard to point out any individual one.

“Can we talk?”

…..

Voldemort walked numbly back into his quarters, still trying to wrap his mind around the sudden emptiness that filled him.

He didn’t think the Potter brat ever had this much affect on him before. All he did was play stupid muggle pranks and teach him about useless things like ‘vines’ and ‘memes’. No matter how funny Potter Puppet Pals was to watch, there was no magic to be learned in it.

But.. was learning magic still the entire point? He’d admit that was why he kidnapped the brat at first, with the toddler’s wonderful show of magic that knew no bounds. His magic was.. endless, easily the most beautiful thing Voldemort had ever seen.

And.. when he’d first felt the magic.. it had felt like something more. Harry’s magic had felt peaceful—it made him feel at peace.. Something that hadn’t happened in many years. Every time Potter used his magic, it had felt like nothing else mattered, because it was so big and grand and excellent that there was no need for anything else, even if it was only vanishing a book or making an apple float.

Harry’s magic had felt like.. home. Like he was back in the Slytherin dorm, realizing that this was where he was truly meant to be.

Harry’s magic.. made him feel like.. he belonged.

He had wanted to be near that wonderful feeling as much as possible. And now.. it was gone. Not a single trace was leftover, no matter how much Voldemort’s magic subconsciously reached for it.

Perhaps.. after the first few months, it had stopped being about just learning magic. That would’ve been a nice bonus, yes, but.. just having Harry around was good enough, at one point.

Voldemort sighed.

His eyes wandered around his room, remembering some pranks that had been scattered around here and there, or the times when the Potter brat would lounge around the room like he owned it.

Voldemort’s gaze stopped on his desk, where there was a single foreign item resting upon it. He sat up from his bed, thoughts laced with confusion as to what it was.

Upon closer inspection, it was a simple, small gift, wrapped in the most hideous of bright colors. The brat should know better than to mix red and green together!

On the top, there was a small card. Not enough room for much writing or pictures, and was obviously homemade (with blue construction paper).

To: Moldyshorts

We’ve been getting along fairly well recently, s o I thought I’d be a benevolent ruler and grace you with a gift.

From: Harry, easily the best and most important person in your life

(P.S. You’re life sucks, dude)

It would’ve been funny, if his words weren’t true. If Voldemort had seen this earlier, he would’ve scolded the brat for ten minutes about how he was in charge, and how the infernal brat meant nothing to him. Now.. the Dark Lord wondered if Harry knew the affect he had on him.

Despite his previous thoughts about terrible colors, Voldemort took the utmost care unwrapping the present.

Inside was a thin book, too small in size to have any meaningful magic written down. However, the title was unmistakably familiar.

“Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone,” Voldemort read in merely a whisper, almost unbelieving.

The Dark Lord stood there, frozen, for almost ten minutes, staring at the simple book in his hand. There was a faint trace of Harry’s magic still on the book, but it was quickly dispersing into nothingness. Only enough to make Voldemort remember exactly what was lost.

Merlin, the Potter brat ruins everything even when he’s not here.

He shakily—barely—made his way back onto his bed, too overcome with emotions, and yet, much too empty.

...On this night, Voldemort regained a piece of his human self. Just enough that the fearsome Dark Lord, feared by so many, could be undone by just a single kid.

Voldemort cried for the first time in many many years, until he finally fell asleep from exhaustion.

Chapter Text

“I’m surprised James and Sirius were able to let you out of their sight to go Christmas shopping,” Lily mused, sinking into the soft couch.

“They were too shocked for it to sink in fully that I’m back. Tomorrow is going to be much worse.” Harry explained, sipping his hot tea.

“Why’d you leave?”

Harry recognized her wavering confidence in the question, no matter how well she hid it. He smiled softly into his mug. “He promised to leave my family alone if I went with him. Voldy thought that I would teach him magic.”

“… Did you?”

Harry shook his head. “No. He had no way to get information out of me, though his methods were pretty interesting to watch.”

Lily’s breath hitched, and she glanced nervously at her son.

“Don’t worry,” Harry grinned. “Tom can’t hurt me. He just tried.. annoying information out of me. Called it ‘tactical persuasion’. I had a lot of fun pranking him in return.”

Harry saw the way her shoulders deflated. Obviously, that was a load off her shoulders, knowing her son hadn’t been tortured continuously for two years.

“Voldemort,” Lily shuddered, but still said the name, “You call him ‘Tom’. You called him that the night you left, too.”

“Tom Marvolo Riddle. Voldemort’s name before he became, well, Voldemort.”

“Before he became.. Voldemort?”

Harry sighed, trying to find out how to best word it. “Riddle dabbled in some very very bad magic when he was younger. He split his soul in half, and tethered it to a physical object. Once was already pretty bad, but he would’ve been fine, but Riddle made four more of them. Each time, splitting his soul further and further in half.”

“ Why?!”

“He grew up in a muggle orphanage during the bombing of WWII. He’s scared—terrified—of dying. Anybody would be, if they were in his place. He did the only thing he could to secure his immortality, making sure he wouldn’t die a pitiful death over the summer.”

“Surely the teachers would let him stay at Hogwarts over the summer?”

“Riddle tried; he really did. He was the top student Hogwarts has literally ever had. He was a model student; every single teacher and student loved him. Except for Dumbledore, who was convinced that this little teenager was evil for being able to speak to snakes and being sorted into Slytherin. And of course, everybody thinks Dumbledore is the next Merlin, so they listened to him, and Tom was sent back to the orphanage every summer to die.”

“You say muggle orphanage—Voldemort is a muggle-born?” Lily forgot to stutter while saying his name, too enraptured with Harry’s story to notice.

“He’s a half-blood, actually. Riddle is.. the heir of Slytherin." Harry shrugged, kicking his dangling feet back and forth.

“And you?” Lily almost whispered, gesturing to the small boy next to her. “What.. Who.. How..”

“The Master of Death. I collected all three of the Deathly Hallows in my first life, and so now I’m immortal. This life is.. really similar to my first one. I was Harry Potter, except.. there was no Danny, and Voldemort didn’t just stun you guys. I was the golden boy-who-lived, the only survivor of the killing curse.”

Lily’s eyes widened in understanding.

“I was given to the Dursleys growing up, with your sister.. You know, I actually asked to stay over the summer, too. Just as many times as Riddle did. Dumbledore told me ‘no’ over and over because it was ‘for the greater good’... There.. There was no greater good. He just wanted me to be submissive and easily manipulated.” Harry sighed, a soft little smile that was slightly too real to be anything but fake.

“What happened..?”

“It worked just as he wanted. I willingly walked to my death.” Harry looked his mother straight in the eyes. “And, guess what? I died.” He paused for a moment. “But, I came back to life, and.. and I killed somebody.”

“.. You killed Voldemort.”

Harry cocked his head to the side, finally looking away. “I was only 17 at the time. I had no problems with dying. I.. I wasn’t supposed to come back. I was supposed to stay dead. Dumbledore always believes he knows best, no matter what world I’m in. He always believes in the ‘greater good’, and he doesn’t care what, or who, he destroys to get there. I was nothing but a stepping stone for him to be revered as the next Merlin. He planned my entire life out, up until the moment I was supposed to die. And I followed it out perfectly, because I didn’t know any better.”

“What all happened? Would this Dumbledore do the same thing?”

“He would. He actually has a tracking charm on me, Danny, and Neville.”

Lily furrowed her brows in confusion, until it suddenly clicked. “The prophecy.”

“It’s how he knew I was still alive. I could easily take it off, but it’s better to leave him to do his thing. He’s already going to be suspicious enough of me, with how much ‘accidental’ magic I’ve been doing, and the small fact that I was kidnapped by the Dark Lord for two years. Listen..” Harry frowned for a moment, pausing in his thoughts. “Dumbledore knows what the Deathly Hallows are. He knows what the Master of Death is. He spent a good portion of his life looking for them with his boyfriend.”

Lily sputtered indignantly. “Boyfriend-”

“You may know him better as Gellert Grindelwald, actually. Anyways,” Harry continued, “Dumbledore has the Elder Wand, and he knows what it is. He knows Dad has the Invisibility Cloak, and.. well, he probably knows Voldemort has the Stone of Resurrection. Wouldn’t surprise me at all.” He shrugged.

“Voldemort has the stone?!”

“He doesn’t know he has it. He just thinks it’s an heirloom.”

“This-” Lily pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is a lot to take in.”

Harry kept a careful eye on his mother. “I’m sorry I’m not the child you wanted.” For a moment he paused; one could mistake it for hesitantly. “I could alter your memories—make you believe you had a regular kid.”

“Harry.. I’ve always known you weren’t a ‘regular kid’. It.. might sound selfish, but.. I’m glad you’re not. I’m so, so glad. You would be dead otherwise—both you and Danny, according to your story. I’d much rather you be some all-powerful god than a dead baby.” Lily explained, looking almost desperate for her son to understand.

“You realize that.. I’ll never be what you want. I may very well be a Slytherin this lifetime. I don’t get along with Dumbledore well—never have. I don’t plan to tell Dad or Sirius for some time, though I may tell Remus.. I’m still deciding. I’ve studied countless types of dark magic, and I plan to keep learning it for many many years. I’m literally the Necromancer.” Harry breathed in, then out. “I’m not going to be the son you want. I’m not three, and I am extremely independent. However, I am willing to listen and treat you like a mother, because I cherish the times I can get a mother’s warmth.”

“.. How many other parents have you told? Or people in general?”

“I usually don’t. It’s easier for them to think their son or daughter is a normal child, than some elder-tier god they didn’t ask for. It.. gets tiring after a while, always having to pretend. I guess I was hoping that.. I’d be able to let my guard down a little this lifetime.” Harry did a small sparkly show with his magic, letting the falling glitter land on his mother and dissolve into nothing just to prove his point. “Most people can’t handle the strain of losing their chance at a normal life. I end up erasing their memories lots of times.”

Lily embraced her son with a hug. “I will always love and accept you, no matter what house you’re in, what magic you practice, or what you believe in. I’ll always be on your side and support you, and I’m sure Danny will too. He really likes you.”

“I love Danny too.” Harry’s smile softened as he thought about his fiery red-haired brother. “He’s a wonderful kid, though it seems he’s developed magic similar to mine.”

“I’ve noticed. You two were dissecting all the kids toys earlier,” Lily replied. “.. James and Sirius, and even Remus.. they might be harder to convince. They grew up with Dumbledore as their lord and savior basically, and it’s going to be hard to convince them that he’s not as great as he may seem.”

“I just want Danny to be safe and happy. Danny is my main concern, and always will be. I have no doubts he’ll be able to take care of himself, but I’ll always have his back.”

“What are you going to do about Voldemort? He.. Now that you’re not there, will he go after Danny again?” Lily asked, sending a quick reheating charm to her own tea.

Harry remembered his own tea and sipped on it as well. “He might. I have no clue what he’ll do, to be honest. I’ve never really gotten close to any of the Voldemorts before. They were insane, and I was still upset he’d murdered my parents in my first life. However, most lives, I never came across him. In some worlds, he just didn’t exist, or there were much bigger problems. Simple as that.”

“This is the first Voldemort you’ve ever gotten close to?” She sipped her tea.

Harry shrugged. “Well, yeah. Harry Potter has always had the biggest affect on Voldemort no matter the world, and this is only my second time being him. Usually, if he does exist, I have nothing to do with him whatsoever.” He paused for a moment, looking down solemnly into his mug. “There was one Voldemort I had gotten fairly close to.”

“.. It didn’t go well, did it?”

Harry just shook his head. “No. It didn’t go well at all. Even this Voldemort.. I enjoyed his company, but I never really trusted him.”

Lily let the matter drop for the moment. If it was ever important, Harry would tell her, she was sure. Instead, they both said their goodnights.

“Goodnight Harry. I love you.”

“Goodnight Mom. Love you too.” He sent a soft smile her way, and they both headed to bed. It was surely late enough now, and tomorrow was Christmas after all.

…..

A Month Later

Sirius slowed his pace, lining up with James who had started lingering all of a sudden. They were on their way to the Headmaster’s office in Hogwarts, to speak to Albus about Harry being back. Obviously, something was on James’ mind, and Sirius would admit he’d had some thoughts about this too.

“Hey, Pads.. I don’t.. I don’t think we should tell Dumbledore.” James said vaguely, knowing his best friend would understand.

“I know.” Sirius agreed softly. “I know.”

“You’ve noticed it too.. how Harry tenses up when we mention telling Dumbledore what he did.” James almost whispers.

Sirius nodded. “Most three year-olds can’t apparate in a warded zone after canceling out the Cruciatus Curse cast by the Dark Lord himself.”

“We both knew that Harry was never a normal child, even for our standards. Harry has told Lily why that is, and she trusts him, so I’ll trust him too. He’s my son after all, and nothing he does will change the fact that I love him—both him and Danny.” James paused for a moment, letting some hesitancy slip through. “Harry will come talk to us when he’s ready. Until then, I’ll keep being the best father I can be to both of them.”

The two best friends stopped in front of the gargoyles leading up to the Headmaster’s office.

“I suppose it depends then.” He looked straight at James. “Do your loyalties lie with Dumbledore or Harry?”

The answer was obvious to both of them, who only shared it with a gleam in their eyes. They broke out in grins a moment later, to make sure their story was going to be as believable as possible. After all, they were about to spin an epic story of how Sirius saved Harry from the Dark Lord’s evil clutches.

There was no question that their loyalties were to little Harry, even if the toddler knew it or not.

…..

One Year and Four Months Later

Remus dragged his almost unconscious body through the door, barely enough thought process to keep himself from toppling over right then and there. Definitely not enough to notice the two children (now four—almost five years old!) sitting on the ground, watching him with mild curiosity and distinct understanding.

He fell on the couch. In the back of his mind, he apologized to Lily and James for staining their couch with blood. A second later, he was unconscious in an uneasy sleep.

James and Sirius stepped in a moment later, of course, almost just as tired as Remus was. They had stayed up all night in their Animagus forms with him for the full moon, but it still took a toll on all of them.

“Hi Danny, Harry. We’re gonna.. go get some sleep. Don’t disturb Uncle Moony; he’s had a hard night.” James slurred, before dragging himself into his bedroom.

Once the adults were out of sight (or unconscious, in Remus’ case), Danny looked over to Harry. “Can you fix Uncle Remmy?”

“Remus isn’t broken, even if he thinks he is. And it would be hard to explain why his Lycanthropy suddenly disappeared,” Harry pondered. “Any suggestions?”

“Make the transforming hurt less. And make him keep his thoughts.” Danny supplied helpfully.

Harry nodded. “I can do that.”

…..

A couple days later, Harry cornered Remus while they were alone.

The werewolf stared at the bracelet in the kid’s hand. “What is this?”

It was obviously something high caliber, from the many runes carved across the metal surface. Harry had probably found it in one of the drawers around the house, though Remus could tell that most likely wasn’t the case.

“It’s a bracelet I carved with some runes. It will help you keep your mind when you turn, along with making it much less painful. You’ll no longer feel an uneasy hunger whenever you turn, and if, on the off chance you come across a human, it will keep you from harming them, as long as they don’t attack you. I thought I’d also add a couple extra charms as well, such as making sure you’re not affected before and after you transform back, and also increasing your senses, if you so wish.” Harry explained, still holding the band out.

“Wha- Harry, you.. made this?!” Remus’ eyes widened, and he looked at the kid in exasperation.

Harry almost scoffed. “It was a fun challenge. It’ll turn invisible once you put it on; you wont feel it, and I’ve made sure it won’t fall off when you’re in werewolf form.”

“Wow, Harry, this is-” Remus tentatively grabbed the band, lost for words. “How did you make this? You’re only four!”

And so Harry told him about himself. He left out all the fun facts about Voldemort this time; not everybody needed to know his sad past, nor that he split his soul. Instead, Harry told Remus about some of the different lives he’d experienced. Some had werewolves integrated into their daily lives; humans and them coexisted perfectly. How some people would choose to be werewolves, if they so wished. Harry told Remus about how being a werewolf does not always mean a bad thing, and how life was too short to always be worrying about things.

When Remus asked about Dumbledore, claiming that Harry could help save hundreds of people if he maybe even teamed up with him, Harry told him the truth. He knew Remus didn’t want to hear it, but he told him anyways. Dumbledore had known how to make a similar cure, but didn’t, and wouldn’t. He wanted Remus to hate his werewolf part, because then Remus would be more inclined to join the light faction, to break away from his ‘evil half’.

Of course, Remus denied Harry’s words for quite a few minutes. In fact, those minutes bled into an entire week. (Harry had put a couple secrecy charms on Remus, so he wasn’t too worried. Plus, Remus was wearing the bracelet he had made.)

A week later, Remus cornered Harry this time, while he was playing with Danny. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I was expecting you to deny my words, but it’s better to get it out there than for you to live in ignorance.”

Remus explained that he’d asked Dumbledore, as ‘the greatest wizard of their time’, if he was able to make anything to lessen the pain of transforming. Dumbledore had only changed the subject, making sure to add in that werewolves were dark creatures, so there was obviously pain involved.

“Yeah, he does that when he’s hiding something. It’s not hard to spot if you’re looking for it.” Harry replied.

“Dumbledore wouldn’t like Harry. He’s too powerful for Dumbledore to control,” Danny cut in, looking upset at that fact, but also making sure Remus understood.

Remus turned towards Harry, looking at the small child who was able to fix his life in a matter of an hour. Dumbledore would obviously want to control Harry, just like he controlled—tried to control—Remus. It was easy to see that Harry didn’t care about being light or dark, what house he was in, or even if someone was a werewolf. Remus had gotten that much from the stories Harry wove, telling of his adventures in other houses.

“Don’t worry, Danny. I’m not going to tell Dumbledore.” Remus smiled softly at the child.

“Harry, Harry, tell us more stories about your other lives!” Danny exclaimed happily, now that his brother wasn’t in any danger.

“Alright, alright. Now, have I told you about the time I got mistaken for a villain in a world full of heroes? They said it was my eye color, which was still bright green at the time-” Harry went on, telling his story with wild details and doing bursts of magic to make it all the more real.

Remus understood that Harry was special. He understood that Dumbledore would want to keep Harry contained and under control because the kid might turn out super evil. But, with how much love Remus could see in his eyes when Harry looked at his brother, and the love he got in return, Remus didn’t really care what Dumbledore thought. After all, Harry had fixed his entire life, which was so broken that Remus didn’t even think it was possible to fix.

Remus caught Harry’s bright emerald eyes at that moment, which seemed to say “not broken, just damaged”.

…..

Later, again, Remus found some time alone with the kids again. Only a minute, but just long enough to ask what he wanted to.

“Are you ever going to tell James and Sirius?”

“I want to.” Harry replied without hesitation. “I just.. I’m scared, to be honest. I don’t know where their loyalties lie. I don’t know what they’d think of me being sorted into Slytherin, if I were to do so. I don’t know what they’d think of me practicing dark magic.”

“You don’t want them to hate you for being you.” Remus murmured softly. He understood all too well what that was like.

Harry nodded. “If they saw me doing something questionable, that they might not agree with, would they run straight to Dumbledore? Or would they hear me out? I don’t know.”

“Surely you have ways of finding out.”

“I do.” Harry agreed. “But.. I don’t like using them. I don’t like breaking into somebody’s mind and privacy. I hate taking away somebody’s freedom like that.”

“I can try to find out for you, if you want.” Remus offered. He owed Harry so much, this was the least he could do for the boy in front of him.

Remus saw the possibility of being able to get close to his dad and godfather swirl in the boy’s eyes, and watched him light up in glee, no matter how hidden. (Perks of being a werewolf: noticing small details) Remus was so enraptured with Harry’s beautiful eyes filled with such joy, he almost missed Harry’s genuine response. “Thank you.”

James and Sirius appeared a moment later. The three of them were going out for the night, to have some long-needed fun. Lily was going to watch over the kids, and tomorrow night, she was going to have her own night out, shopping with her friends, while the three Marauders watched the twins.

…..

Two Years and One Month Later

“Harry, Danny, get ready! We’re going to celebrate Dudley’s birthday!” Lily yelled up the stairs to the boy’s room.

Unbeknownst to her, Harry immediately tensed up and stared at the door, as if he was waiting for something to come crashing through it.

“.. Harry?” Danny glanced over nervously. He didn’t like that Harry had suddenly froze up.

Upon hearing Danny’s voice, Harry forced himself to calm down, or at least pretend like it. “I- I’m fine, Danny. I- I’ll be good.”

Danny didn’t believe him, and Harry knew that he didn’t.

Nonetheless, Harry and Danny got ready, and they headed over to the Dursley’s residence. Danny wouldn’t let go of Harry’s hand, and the twins could see that their parents noticed. Lily, especially, was keeping a close eye on Harry, after she realized that her sons were refusing to separate. Harry was just thankful to Danny; he must’ve whispered ‘thank you’ and ‘I’m sorry’ a hundred times before they arrived. Danny took it all in stride, glad he was able to help his brother for once.

The Dursleys were just as Harry remembered. Dudley was spoiled, demanding more and more presents, never happy with what he had. Petunia still screeched like a harpy about every little thing, nitpicking Lily’s life away for running off and marrying James. Vernon kept grumbling about disgusting freaks in his house, but was at least quiet with his complaining.

Not quiet enough for Harry not to hear, however. He flinched every time he heard the word ‘freak’, and he knew that Danny noticed, because his brother would squeeze his hand just a bit harder every time.

At one point, Petunia had needed to grab something in the cupboard under the stairs, and she noticed Harry. “You’re small. Grab me the can of beans, would you?”

They’d turned Harry’s small prison into a pantry, but that didn’t make it any less daunting to look at. Merlin—Harry was having all sorts of flashbacks he didn’t want, and Petunia was nudging him towards the cupboard looking displeased he was taking so long, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, and oh, he was going to be sick, and where was Danny-

“Harry- Harry?!” Suddenly, Danny was in his face, blowing a soft ice breath to snap him back to reality. Harry had taught him how to do fire and ice breath a while back, and really was a fun trick to do.

Harry couldn’t make his voice work, so he did the only thing he could think of, and latched onto his brother as tight as possible. “Don’t leave my sight. Don’t leave. Don’t leave me. Don’t go near them. Don’t go anywhere near them.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, Harry.” Danny held onto Harry back, making sure he wouldn’t drop his brother, despite said brother being a literal god.

“Kids, why.. Why don’t you go and play outside for a while?” Lily said with fake enthusiasm, connecting a lot of dots together that she really hoped weren’t true.

Danny led Harry outside, and Dudley numbly followed after them. The birthday-boy had no idea what was going on; he just knew that Harry was stealing the attention from him.

Just as Dudley was about to confront the twins about stealing all of the attention on his birthday, the twins disappeared out of sight. Just straight up vanished. Dudley looked around for them for a little bit, then happily played with his toys, since the twins weren’t here to steal the attention from him anymore.

(Danny had put them under a strong notice-me-not charm with accidental magic, directed straight at the Dursleys for the remainder of the day.)

…..

The rest of the day passed by, and it wasn’t long before the Potters were heading back home. Harry, who had almost immediately relaxed upon being back in his home, was cornered by an over-concerned Lily.

James started making one of his famous dessert creations, while Lily dragged Harry off to a room to make sure he was okay. This was the first time the twins had been separate since she’d told them they were going over to the Dursleys earlier.

“You said you were given to the Dursleys in your first life. You asked to stay over the summer every year—why didn’t you tell me you didn’t want to go?!”

Harry sighed. “This was the first time you’d gone to see your sister in years. I thought I could handle it for one afternoon.”

“That cupboard—the one under the stairs. It set you off.”

Harry tried to act nonchalant, shrugging it off. “That was my room for a good portion of my childhood, the first time around. However, it was much more like a prison.”

“Tell me.” Lily demanded, a fire in her eyes. “Tell me everything they did to you.”

And so Harry told her of how he grew up in his first life. Doing chores at a young age, his room under the stairs, being Dudley’s personal punching bag, being called ‘freak’ more times than he can count. How he hadn’t learned his name until he was five, when the teacher called on him at school. When he’d been given Dudley’s second bedroom. How he had been fed through a small hole in the door, and how there had be iron bars on the window. He told her about the beatings Vernon would give him, and how, in his first life, his growth had been permanently stunted. How he was underfed and beaten till he was black and blue all over.

Once he’d finished, Lily looked horrified. She looked terrifyingly angry—and righteously so, even if the Dursley family that had done that to him was a different family. These Dursleys had done nothing of the sort, and there was little reason to get so mad at them.

Lily remembered something then. “Don’t go anywhere near them, you told Danny.” She interrogated her six year-old. “You didn’t tell me everything.”

Harry weighed the pros and the cons of the situation, but decided to just come out and say it. Perhaps it would be a load off of his chest. And so Harry told his mother.

He told her about the times when Vernon would come home drunk or angry when he was little, and how he’d drag little Harry up to his room sometimes. Harry told her about how Vernon stopped needing excuses as he got older, and would just do it whenever he pleased. Drag him up to his room and use his body like it was nothing more than worthless garbage to be used. Harry supposed, to Vernon, that was what he was. Harry told his mother how it had only gotten worse after he’d gone to Hogwarts, since now he knew he was a wizard, and that made it all the worse.

Lily wrapped her arms around her small boy, weeping tears for all the pain her son had to go through. Harry, however, felt lighter than he had in years, perhaps because he’d finally gotten a big load off of his chest—one he hadn’t noticed was there until suddenly, it wasn’t.

That night, James fed them all some of his homemade chocolate-marshmallow-pudding delight, and Danny slept in Harry’s bed, with his arms wrapped protectively around his brother.

…..

A Month Later

Harry sighed contently, enjoying the feeling of the soft grass under him, the warm breeze around him, and his brother laying next to him. The twins had just turned seven earlier that day, and they’d just gotten done with the ‘small’ party that had been set up for them.

There hadn’t been that many people at the party, no, but that didn’t mean it was any less exciting. Everybody was sending presents to the fabled ‘boy-who-lived-through-a-kidnapping-from-the-Dark-Lord’, which was conveniently shortened to ‘boy-who-lived’. Harry wasn’t sure what to think, now that he had the same nickname as he did in his first life. He supposed it was better than Danny being revered as a hero for wiping out the Dark Lord as a year-old baby.

Right now, though, all of Harry’s worries were flying away with the soft breeze. Harry could hear the rustle of the leaves in the trees, the soft chirps of the birds and crickets, and his brother’s steady breathing next to him.

All in all, it had been a wonderful day, and Harry would not trade it for anything.

“Harry,” Danny breathed softly, not wanting to break the soothing mood of the night sky. “What’s your favorite thing in the entire universe? Out of every universe and life you’ve been in, what did you like best?”

It didn’t take long for Harry to come up with an answer. “I like space.” The two boys stared at the infinite cosmos above. There was not a cloud in the sky tonight, and it seemed everything around them had a calming attitude. “The infinite cosmos above. All the space, stars, planets, everything up there. That is my favorite thing.”

Danny stared into the endless abyss of the night sky and smiled. “Yeah, I can see what you mean.”

The twins watched the stars in the night sky for hours, enjoying the peace and quiet, and basking in each other’s company. It seemed every star in the sky was out tonight, giving the twins plenty to look at.

Sometimes, throughout the night, Harry would point at a random constellation and tell Danny all about it. Other times, he would tell of his adventures in space, from the times he was fighting in a galactic war to the times where he’d simply float around for a couple years with nothing but books, his thoughts, and a love for space bigger than the universe itself.

…..

One Year and Three Months Later

Harry sighed, paying attention to all of the small sounds of the night. While it was only October, the air was gaining a chilly breeze to it, though it was easily countered with a small heating charm. Sometimes it was good to get out of the house and walk around, even during the dead of night.

Harry continued along the small pathway in the park, looking up at the beautiful starry sky. Perhaps walks at night were better, if only for the quiet peace that always goes on, and a chance to look up into the galaxy itself. Nobody else was usually outside at this time, so it was the perfect time for Harry to have some time to himself.

However, tonight didn’t seem to be the case. Harry could hear another person’s footsteps getting closer, and he hoped it wasn’t some child services person demanding why an eight year-old was outside alone at this time of night.

He sighed and turned around, only to be confronted with somebody he most definitely did not expect.

“Riddle?”

Chapter Text

Riddle—he had hair again, and wasn’t sporting a snake-face, but it was definitely him—seemed to have only just noticed Harry, judging from the way he immediately tensed and froze up. His bright, scarlet red eyes did nothing but stare at Harry with wide eyes, nor had he moved a muscle otherwise.

Harry thought Riddle’s eyes were a very pretty color. They looked tired and weary, like he’d been working too hard and not getting near enough sleep, or perhaps from stress, and there was a mix of emotions showing, as if they were making up for the lack of reactions Tom was showing otherwise.

And then they started leaking tears.

Tom Marvolo Riddle was crying.

Harry didn’t know what to do. This had certainly never happened before. Not in a single one of his lives. (Albeit, most had nothing to do with Voldemort.) Voldemort had never dared to show weakness to anybody.

However.. Tom Riddle was not Voldemort.

Riddle raised a shaky hand to his face, gently touching his cheek. “Oh.”

He didn’t seem surprised that there were tears steaming down his face. It seems he was still frozen in shock over seeing Harry again. Harry realized that this must not have been Riddle’s first time crying recently, if he wasn’t surprised by their presence.

Harry summoned a calming draught. The faint wisp of magic he used to do so reached Riddle’s magic easily, as it was only gently floating around him.

And Riddle broke down completely.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking when I tried to hurt your family, I swear I didn’t mean to-” Riddle started almost hyperventilating, falling on his knees and eyes leaking even more than before. He tried to wipe them away with the sleeve of his robes, but more and more tears kept reappearing and it was useless and now his face was a mess, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, because everything was useless and why did he even try in the first place. “I didn’t mean to make you leave and Merlin, all I can do is mess up and all I’ve done is hurt you more and more and I don’t know why you even bothered to put up with me in the first place and now I felt your magic again and I’m back to realizing what a big mistake I made and I still can’t find them. I can’t even begin to apologize for everything and I can’t find the last two and I don’t even have a clue as to where they are and I don’t want you to leave me alone again because it hurts being away from you and it hurts not feeling your magic and it hurts knowing that you hate me and that I’ve messed up my only chance and I can’t even do one thing right without messing up even more and Merlin, I’m so pathetic-”

Tom finally ran out of breath, only leaving Harry just as confused, if not more, than when he started.

“Riddle, what-” Harry started, then decided to just shove the potion into the crying wizard’s hands.

Riddle’s hands were shaking so badly Harry wasn’t sure how he actually got the potion into his mouth, nor why Riddle, the most paranoid person Harry knew, would down a potion without even asking what it was.

Soon enough, Riddle was able to wipe away the last of the tears off of his face without more reappearing. The infamous Dark Lord was sitting cross cross on the ground at Harry’s feet, looking even more tired than before.

(Harry wondered if the tiredness was his fault in the first place.)

The leaves on the trees blew in the wind, and the stars up above were shining brightly down on everyone. The full moon was only a couple days away, so it looked larger and closer and lit up the whole park in a faint glow, just enough to see everything. Every couple seconds, a cricket would chirp from somewhere along the trees, but other than that, it was quiet. The night was a melancholy peaceful, with the calmness surrounding them hinting at something deeper, of something fond that is long gone.

“.. Thank you.” Riddle sighed, shoulders drooping like they were carrying a burden much too big for him to handle.

“You’ve been reabsorbing your horcruxes.” Harry whispered into the dead of night, taking a seat on the grass across from the dark wizard.

Riddle hummed an agreement. He looked towards the ground, sighing once more. “.. I’m sorry.”

Harry waited to meet Riddle’s scarlet red eyes with his vibrant green. “Why?”

“.. I thought that..” Riddle trailed off, looking away from Harry’s eyes first, which seemed to look directly into his soul. (Maybe that was the problem.) “.. I thought that reabsorbing my horcruxes would give me another chance with you. It was a stupid idea; I know. You’ve no reason to change your mind, and I shouldn’t have even expected it in the first place. But, well, hey, when you do end up rejecting me, at least I’d be able to die.”

“I.. I don’t understand,” Harry admitted. “You’re.. not afraid of dying anymore?”

“I’m still terrified, but.. it hurt a lot when you left. A lot more than you may think.” Tom pulled out a single blade of grass, determined not to meet Harry’s gaze. “I don’t think I’d be able to handle it again, to be honest.”

It was quiet for a moment, as Harry paused to think.

“I’m not asking you to, but..” Harry sighed a moment later, almost like a breathy whisper. “What would you give up for another chance with me?”

There was not a trace of hesitation in his voice. “Everything.”

The night was quiet, as if even the nocturnal critters had realized the somber mood that reigned upon them.

It took Harry a while to think of an answer, to come up with one, but Riddle didn’t push it, as if he didn’t expect an answer in the first place.

“.. I won’t go back with you,” Harry stated. “To your home.”

“I know.”

“But maybe,”

Riddle looked over with such hope in his eyes that Harry felt almost overwhelmed with the sudden emotions.

“Maybe we can meet again,” Harry finished.

Riddle smiled, just a small one, but it was a real smile. No cunning manipulations behind it, only his true emotions lying bare for once. And as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, as did the blind hope in Riddle’s eyes, into something much more skeptical, unbelieving. Almost.. scared, even.

“What do you want in return?”

“Hm?”

“I’m not an idiot. You’ve said that we can meet again right after asking what I’d give up for you,” Tom replied. “You want something in return.”

Harry tilted his head. “What do you think I’d want?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.”

“Well, I want Danny to be happy. I don’t want everybody to force him into a life he doesn’t want. I want to know the reason why I’m here. Why I can’t just die in one life and be done. I’m tired, Riddle.” Harry’s eyes reflected his age—his true age, thousands upon thousands of years old, and oh so tired of living. “I don’t ‘want’ things, Riddle. I don’t have anything to want. It’s as simple as that.”

“You hold my life in your hands. You know that.” Tom sighed, just as tired as Harry was.

“I’ve always known that,” Harry answered. “I’ve always held everybody’s life in the palm of my hands, especially yours.”

It took Riddle a moment to connect the dots, to realize what Harry meant by that. “.. You said you’ve killed me once, in another life.”

“My first one. It was a duel to the death, only minutes after I’d received my ‘Master of Death’ status.” Harry sighed. “I didn’t realize what I was until a few years had passed and I still hadn’t aged a single minute. I never killed anybody else magical directly, once I realized what it would do. Backhanded tactics that worked around magic, yes, but.. never directly.”

Riddle was looking at him with such blatant fear and understanding, as if he already knew what Harry was going to say, and how there was nothing he could do to stop it. With such an uneasy dread, but still so much respect for the small boy next to him.

“I hate controlling people. Taking away their free will. I know all too well what it feels like, and I hated it so much. The very first few years of my life, all I had wanted to do was die. I should’ve died while I had the chance,” Harry continued. “So I would never take away somebody else’s free will, never control somebody. Even if they gave me clear permission, I would still be hesitant to do so.”

“Just say it.” Riddle knew what it was, and just wanted it to be over with, but instead Harry was dragging it out, trying to delay the inevitable.

Harry sighed. “When I killed Voldemort in the first life, in the duel to the death, I won ownership of Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

Tom, for his part, seemed much calmer than Harry had expected him to be. “So what did you plan to do now that I know?”

“The same thing I’ve done in every life. Nothing.”

“You’ve never used this to your advantage?”

“The most I’ve ever done with it is make it so you can’t hurt me. Never anything else.”

Tom hummed. “And if I told you I wouldn’t mind if you used it more?”

Harry turned then, to look straight into Riddle’s eyes. “I would say that you’re lying.”

“Then use it and make sure I am telling the truth.”

“That would strip you bare of everything that made you a Slytherin,” Harry stated, as if he wasn’t sure how to respond to Riddle’s response.

“I already knew my life lied in your hands long before you told me I was your slave,” Tom replied, as if calling himself a slave was an easy thing to do—as if he didn’t mind it.

“Why don’t you seem to mind any of this? You- You’re Tom Riddle! I’ve never known him to be one to bow down to any other, especially not of his own free will. I just told you I won’t use it to my advantage, and I meant that. I don’t like meddling in the affairs of the universe anymore, only watching as a bystander. Don’t bother me, and I would never stand in your way.” Harry wanted to protest more, to say that Riddle should leave while he can. Harry had tried so hard to get out of his imprisonment with the Dursleys, even if it had been so long ago, he still remembered it all so clearly. He hated it; he hated it all so much.

“I don’t mind because it’s you.”

It was such a simple answer, almost too simple for it to be the truth. Too open, too bare, too honest.

And yet, Riddle continued. “I find I wouldn’t mind stepping down from the throne for a while, just being plain old Tom Riddle for once. Or even being lower than that, only what you want me to be.”

Harry didn’t know how to respond to that. He never wanted anything like this to happen. “You’ll never find where your last two horcruxes are at. They’re far out of your reach.”

If Riddle noticed the sudden change in topic, he didn’t comment on It. “Yes, well, that leaves me in a bit of a bind, doesn’t it?”

“You’re not going to ask where they are?”

“Would you tell me if I asked you?”

“I would.”

Riddle hummed. “Knowing the location doesn’t help if they’re out of reach.”

“True,” Harry agreed. “One is buried deep in Bellatrix’s vault, only openable by a Black. The other is hidden away in the Black’s ancestral home, a place hidden from anybody not related.”

“Like I said, out of reach,” Riddle sighed. “But, thank you.”

“You shouldn’t be thanking me,” Harry whispered.

The two of them laid in the grass for a moment, the only noises being the critters of the night and the thoughts in their heads.

“What makes you hesitant to use your power over me?” Tom cut through the silence with a soft, deep tone.

“How much I like it,” Harry replied, equally soft. “It scares me how much I’d enjoy using it, even knowing how much I hate it myself. I hate being controlled so much. Being used and controlled, treated as nothing more than a tool.”

Riddle seemed to understand where Harry was coming from, but didn’t comment.

Harry continued. “Why would you put yourself in such a position?”

“I might be able to earn your trust, if you knew that I was in a position that wouldn’t dare defy you.”

“Earn my trust?”

Riddle paused, mumbling something under his breath to himself, (“he really thinks I’m an idiot”), then sighing. “You’ve never trusted me. Not once. You laughed, perhaps even enjoyed my company, but you never once let your guard down. You were always prepared that I’d do something against your family, even if you were right in the end. You’ve even protected yourself against me, rendering me unable to harm you. There is no trust. You don’t trust me. It’s as simple as that.”

“Why do you want to earn my trust?” Harry cocked his head to the side. It had been many years since he’d been this confused, asked this many questions. He thought he knew almost everything about this life, about Tom Marvolo Riddle. And yet, he just kept learning more.

“Perhaps to show you who Tom Riddle is. You’ve met Voldemort, probably more times than I’d like, but it’s obvious you’ve never dealt with Tom Riddle before. Maybe you hadn’t thought there was a difference, or maybe you didn’t see a reason to do anything but get rid of Voldemort. I guess.. I’d like to show you who Tom Riddle is. Maybe prove that he’s worth saving in another life, prove that you’re not just wasting your time when you hang out with me, or any other version of me.”

“That’s a stupid reason.”

Riddle was almost insulted by that; he’s trying so hard to be noticed by Harry, only for it to be not enough, not wanted in the first place.

“I’m not worth the effort.” Harry almost wanted to laugh, but it only came out as a half-formed smile that fell apart immediately. “I’m the Master of Death, but.. as Harry Potter, I’m not special. You’re only going to be disappointed once you get to know me.”

“You’re wrong.”

And suddenly Tom Riddle, his once sworn enemy, the person he’d murdered, was looking at him with such awe and amazement and adoration, like Harry actually deserved it. Deserved to be thought of so highly, when his staircase to get there was built on lies and expectations he couldn’t uphold.

“You don’t know that, Riddle.”

“..Why do you call me ‘Riddle’?”

“What else should I call you?” Harry asked. He expected Riddle to demand to be called Voldemort, never his infernal muggle name-

“Tom,” Riddle answered easily, painfully unaware of Harry’s internal thoughts. “Surely you have that right, out of anyone.”

“I don’t want it.”

“..I don’t know what else to do. What else I can give you.” Tom whispered, even then, sounding close to cracking. He smiled—much too fake—until he couldn’t hold it in anymore, and laughed. A broken laugh, Harry recognized, when one has nothing left to tie them to sanity.

(Harry’s done that laugh more times than he can count. Each time, on the verge of a mental breakdown.)

“I can’t get to the last two horcruxes; I can’t just die. Or perhaps I deserve to suffer. I don’t know anymore,” Tom admitted.

After a long moment, Harry sighed. “..Let me think for a little bit. I.. I don’t know what to do either. You were right—I’ve never gotten to know Tom Riddle. I avoided him. I didn’t want to know what would happen if we ever met up.. Guess I know now though, huh.”

“Do you wish you hadn’t, now that you know?”

“I’m.. scared, mostly. You have such high hopes and expectations for me. I know magic, I know where the universe ends, I know things that you would not believe. But.. I don’t know myself. I don’t know what I am. Who I am,” Harry replied in a soft tone. “I’m good at pretending, so much so that I don’t know what’s a mask and what’s not anymore. I have no defining personality traits that would make me stand out. No ambition. No reason to keep on living, other than the fact that I can’t die.”

Riddle hummed as a response, not sure what he could possibly say to that. (Harry didn’t think there was a correct response.)

“Come back in three days, and I’ll have an answer for you.”

. . . . .

“Dad, Siri, I.. I have something I should probably tell you.” Harry looked between the two of them with both determination and hesitation in his eyes.

It was the third day; tonight, Harry would go out and meet Tom Riddle and tell him his decision. He hopes it’s the right one. He doesn’t want to mess this up, like he always seems to.

(Harry doesn’t know what to think anymore. It seems he’s only gotten worse at making decisions recently.)

(Harry finds himself missing the times when he was floating in space, when he didn’t have to make a single decision.)

Remus was sitting on the couch, sipping hot tea and reading a book. Lily was in the kitchen, brewing a potion over the stove. Danny was sitting on the floor next to Harry, giving his brother one of his reassuring smiles—that Harry is doing the right thing, and not just making another mistake in the long list of mistakes he’s made.

James and Sirius, playing a magical board game, looked over to their son, as did the two other adults. (‘Was Harry finally going to tell them?’ running through their minds) They seemed excited, as if they’d been waiting for Harry to bring up this point for years and years. (Harry wondered if they’d known. If they’d would’ve accepted him from the beginning.)

“This talk is.. long overdue. I should’ve told you years ago, but.. I was scared. I still am, but.. I need to do it. It’s not right to keep it from you because of my insecurities,” Harry started, realizing that he was avoiding bringing the actual topic up, and hating himself a bit more for it.

Remus was sending Harry a discreet thumbs up, smiling softly into his book, and he knew that Lily was listening in as well.

“You can tell us anything, Harry. Whenever you want,” James reassured him.

“Take your time. We’ll wait however long.” Ironic, coming from Sirius Black, but Harry believed his words nonetheless.

Harry breathed in, and out. He kept his eyes closed, so he could almost pretend he was talking to himself, instead of facing judgment from two of the most important people in his life.

“You’ve read the Tales of Beedle the Bard before, of course. The story of Death giving three of his possessions to three brothers—the Invisibility Cloak, the Resurrection Stone, and the Elder Wand,” Harry murmured. “The person who collects all three of them is known as the Master of Death.”

“In my first life, at age 17, I was the idiot who collected all three of the Deathly Hallows, and became the Master of Death. A being unable to die, with all of the magic in the universe at their disposal.”

Harry told his family in more detail that the other times, knowing that the others were listening in as well. He told them of how he would be reborn throughout dimensions, and how he’d come across the title in his first life.

They, being James and Sirius, were surprised to learn that Harry was Harry in his first life too.

“Wait- So Voldemort has the Resurrection Stone?” James asked.

“He doesn’t know what it is. Only thinks it’s a family heirloom.”

“And Dumbledore has the Elder Wand? Does he know?” Sirius prompted.

“Dumbledore spent a good portion of his life chasing after the Hallows. He knows exactly what it is, and knows that your Invisibility Cloak is most likely the one from the story.”

James tilted his head to the side. “Why don’t you like Dumbledore?”

Harry winced, then tried to play it off. “What do you mean?”

Lily and Remus looked like they were both about to jump into the conversation, just in case it took a bad direction. Harry was sure Danny had a similar expression, but didn’t look at his twin behind him.

“It’s always been obvious you don’t get along with him. Is this why? Because he would know what you are?”

“..Partially, yes. But more so because he doesn’t like what I am,” Harry answered hesitantly. “Dumbledore can’t control me. He’s not a bad person, but.. he’s got convoluted ideas. Ideas that do much more harm than good.”

“Like what?”

“I grew up with the Dursleys in the first life. That was his decision, to send me there. I grew up knowing that I had to kill somebody. That I stood a better chance against the Dark Lord than an experienced wizard with decades of experience behind him. Imagine being told as an eleven year-old, who had just gotten introduced to magic, the magical world, that you were expected to kill somebody.”

“You gotta admit Prongs, that was a pretty bad plan,” Sirius input helpfully, trying to lighten the mood.

Harry finished telling his story, about some of the things he’s seen and done, how he helped Remus out, that he had told Lily the night he returned home, and many other things. Harry shared the story about Voldemort again, only partially, leaving out the horcruxes and his sad past, telling instead of how he’d defeated the dark wizard when he was 17.

“Well, now you know what I am. I.. I really didn’t mean to keep it from you for that long. I was scared that you’d run to Dumbledore the first chance you got.” Harry tilted his head a bit, letting his bangs fall over his eyes. He watched the two Marauders with a calculated expression, already building up an emotional wall in case things didn’t turn out like he wanted.

“Well.. for being an immortal being, you sure can be oblivious sometimes,” James replied.

Sirius nodded his agreement. “I can’t believe you didn’t realize we’ve always been on your side, Small Prongs!”

It took a moment for their words to sink in, and Harry wondered why he was more surprised by everything in the life he’d already lived. “Wait, really?”

“No matter what, we’ve always been, and always will be, on your side!” James nodded passionately, wrapping his arm around Sirius, and then pulling Harry into a massive hug.

Harry let himself be squeezed to death for a few minutes, basking in the warmth of their love and acceptance before pulling away. “You.. You realize that I’ll never be the son you want.”

“We know.”

“There’s a good chance I’ll be in Slytherin.”

“Well.. normally, I can’t stand Slytherins..” Sirius started, “But if it’s you, I’m sure I’ll be able to handle it somehow.” He dramatically put a hand to his forehead, feigning distress. James played along, wiping a fake tear from his eye and catching Sirius as he fell over.

“I study dark magic all the time,” Harry retorted.

“I can see why you and Dumbledore don’t get along.”

“You’re all being insufferable! Why don’t you seem to care about any of this?!” Harry snapped, desperate for his family to understand.

“We don’t care because it’s you. We love you, Harry. Always have, always will. Nothing will ever change that,” James answered, like it really was that simple.

(Harry was reminded of Riddle’s words earlier. ‘I don’t mind because it’s you.’ Harry remembered the look Riddle gave him a moment later, filled with adoration and amazement, like Harry had done something to deserve that look.)

(For half a second, Harry could almost picture Riddle adding on the extra sentence. ‘I love you, Harry.’)

Harry slumped back, falling on the floor. He started sobbing, choking on the words that desperately wanted to come out. “Thank- Thank you!” He wiped his face on his sleeve, but more tears appeared. “Thank you for loving me! For accepting me!”

Everybody crowded around the small boy crying on the floor, hugging him. For once, Harry almost looked his age—a kid who just wants to be loved. Who grew up unloved and uncared for, having to hide his existence from everybody for years and years and years, out of fear of being rejected for who he is.

The family—Lily, James, Remus, Sirius, Danny—sat on the floor hugging their son, making sure he knew that he could always count on them. That he didn’t have to hide from them, pretend to be somebody he’s not. Harry could just be himself for once, and have people who still love him for it.

. . . . .

“Fancy meeting you here, Riddle,” Harry grinned slyly.

“Yes, what a coincidence,” Tom drawled on.

Harry looked out into the trees surrounding them, feeling the rush of wind on his body, hearing the critters chirping away in the dead of night. He looked up into the sky, filled with countless stars on the clear night sky, and sighed contently. “I’ve made my decision.”

He met Tom’s crimson red eyes, almost glowing against the dark of the night. Harry wondered if his eyes looked the same to Riddle, shining with years and years worth of experience behind them.

“Become my apprentice.”

Riddle’s eyes widened in pleasant glee, as if he almost didn’t believe what he’d just heard. Harry could understand that; he’d felt the same when all of his family had accepted him so easily, like it didn’t matter what he was. “What, really?”

“I’ll teach you magic, as long as you actually listen to me-”

“Of course.”

“And reabsorb your last two horcruxes.”

Tom, for his part, didn’t even hesitate, as if he’d expected that to be a condition from the moment Harry said it. “That’s fine.”

The two of them stayed in silence for a moment, with Riddle studying Harry’s face determinedly, which was probably still red from when he’d cried only a couple hours ago.

“.. Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied. And it was true. He felt better than he had in a long time. He was at peace with the world, with his family, and with himself. “I’m fine.”

Chapter Text

“Alright, first thing’s first. What’re the Death Eaters doing?” Harry asked, pacing back and forth softly on the grass.

Tom Riddle, in all of his glory, was sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of the eight year-old. “They most likely think I’m dead. After you left, I told Lucius to give me my diary back-”

“Probably a good idea.”

“-and promptly never summoned any of them again. Wait, what?”

“Oooh, yeah, you only read the first one,” Harry muttered, messing up his hair. He waved his hand and a book appeared out of nowhere, then held it out for Tom. “Here. Consider it a gift.”

Tom took the book carefully, as if he was afraid to damage the small story with just his touch. (Was it really that precious to him?) “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.” He frowned, squinting up at Harry. “I have some concerns.”

“My second year, back in my first life.”

“Yes, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that—your first book, I mean.” Tom cleared his throat. “You’re a Parseltongue?!”

(Harry was glad he could still get under Riddle’s skin, no matter how long it’s been.)

“Yup. You gave me the ability, actually.”

“This title only raises more questions,” Tom deadpanned. “Why exactly were you in the Chamber of Secrets? How did you even learn about it? I didn’t find it until my fifth year.”

Harry sat down next to Tom, shrugging. “Well, you see, there’s a very good reason for that. Some crappy book decided to possess my friend, so I had to go down there and stab a basilisk. I think I died at one point, actually. I mean, that was definitely Riddle’s goal.”

Tom put his face in his hands and groaned. “Are all of these books about me trying to murder you?!”

“No. Not the third one. But all the rest, definitely.” Harry grinned. “I won’t spoil anymore for you~!”

Tom only groaned again.

“Second thing,” Harry started, and Tom glanced up, still hiding most of his face. “I know you’re super skilled in magic. That’s great. You know lots and lots, and that’s wonderful. Now, forget it all. You know nothing.”

“Um.”

“Third thing,” Harry continued, as if his previous statement didn’t need any explanation, “I’m going to recruit Siri for horcrux retrieval. Meaning that you get to meet my family.”

“Harry, if you wanted me dead, why didn’t you just say so?” Tom sighed.

“You won’t die. I mean, don’t try attacking Danny, or I’d probably help them end you, but you should be fine other than that,” Harry reassured, patting the elder wizard on the back.

Tom only frowned, then sent a calculated look Harry’s way. “Danny- That’s your twin brother, is he not?”

“Yep. He’s the chosen one from the prophecy, you know, destined to end you- wait, you never heard the prophecy,” Harry started.

“Snape only graciously told me the ending, yes.”

“Yeah, yeah, Snape is a two-timing jerk. Loyal to Dumbledore because you killed Mom- wait.. Huh, he might still be completely loyal to you, actually. You never killed her in this lifetime,” Harry pondered, shrugging again. “Anyways, the prophecy. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..”

“That sounds fake.”

“I’ll tell you this once and only once, Riddle.” Harry’s warm tone had become ice cold. Tom almost flinched under the power of the glare directed straight at him. “If you even think about hurting Danny, I will end you.”

“I have no intention of harming your brother,” Tom replied carefully. “I just wanted to know what to think of the kid destined to kill me.”

“Danny doesn’t care about the prophecy. He’s a wonderful kid,” Harry sighed softly. “I would do anything for him.”

Tom hummed, not doubting his words.

. . . . .

“I’m home!” Harry yelled throughout the house. “And I brought a friend!”

Danny was only sitting in the living room, reading a fairly large book lazily. He glanced over to Tom, and stared for a moment, then glanced over to Harry with a soft smile.

Tom didn’t know what to think of the kid already. It was obvious that Danny had recognized him from the calculated gaze the kid had held; Tom had fallen under the kid’s judgment, and somehow, he had seemed to pass. He, too, glanced to Harry, wondering if Danny sees the same thing in Harry that he does.

“A friend?” Another voice came from next to them, and Tom startled out of his thoughts upon seeing Lily Potter step out of the kitchen. It was pretty obvious that little Danny got his fiery red hair from her, though his was as much of a mess as Harry’s always seemed to be.

“Yeah, this is-”

“Our little Harry brought home a friend! He’s growing up so fast!” James came around another corner, pretending to cry in Sirius’ arms.

“Soon enough he’ll be off to college, leaving us behind!” Sirius joined in.

Lily groaned. “I tried to explain the muggle world once, and this is what happens.”

The twins only smiled at their antics, seemingly used to it all. (‘Is this what it’s like to have parents?’ Tom wonders.)

Remus Lupin trailed after them a moment later, looking much better for a werewolf than Tom had suspected he would.

(Was that Harry’s doing?)

He noticed the look in Lupin’s eyes a moment later, looking at Harry like he was the entire world, and Tom knew that he was right.

“So, Harry,” James grinned, as if he was about to make fun of Harry bringing home a girlfriend. Wait- “Who’s this charming young man?”

“Well, Riddle, at least you have your looks back,” Harry muttered, making Tom have to stifle a smile that threatened to break loose. “This is Tom Riddle. He’s agreed to become my apprentice.”

Tom could tell that Lily recognized his name immediately, and he wondered how much Harry had told them. She stared at him with a similar expression Danny had a moment ago, judging his every move.

“Tom Riddle.. I’ve heard that name somewhere before..” Sirius muttered, scratching his head.

Danny waited a few seconds before helpfully supplying a hint. “Harry told you about him yesterday.”

Remus spluttered, obviously catching on first. “You- You brought home Voldemort?!”

Tom dutifully stayed silent during this endeavor.

Sirius had a coughing fit while James seemed oddly calm for the situation. “Harry, when you said you studied dark magic, I didn’t think you meant the embodiment of it.”

(Tom should’ve known he was only staying calm to hash out a joke. It seems like something he can imagine James Potter doing. He’s heard about him enough from Snape, after all, though perhaps that isn’t the best analogy-)

“If you don’t want him here, we’ll meet up elsewhere, but I thought I’d introduce him to you. That, and I need to recruit Sirius for a mission.”

“If you trust him enough to bring him home, then we’ll trust him as well.” Lily answered for all of them. Even if it didn’t look like it, they agreed with her.

Sirius recovered from his coughing fit. “So, what did you need me for, you little troublemaker?”

“I need you to go into Bellatrix’s vault and grab Tom’s horcrux.”

“His whAT?!” Sirius screeched. (Oh, he knows what they are.)

“Horcrux,” Harry repeated with no hesitation.

Sirius waved his hands around wildly, trying to prove his point. He turned to Tom, addressing him directly for the first time. “You made a horcrux?!?!?!”

“Five, actually,” Tom mumbled.

“YOU MADE FIVE HORCRUXES?!?! ARE YOU INSANE?!?!?!”

For the next few minutes, everybody in the house got to behold a miraculous sight. The Dark Lord Voldemort, feared by so many, was being scolded and lectured for about ten minutes straight by Sirius Black on how reckless he was and what he’d do if he ever hurt Harry. Tom took it all in stride, occasionally apologizing or agreeing with the very angry Sirius.

“~Your godfather is terrifying.~” Tom sighed, subconsciously inching away from Sirius after he’d finished ranting.

“~He is a Black, after all. I think it runs in the blood.~”

“ ~Terrifying.~”

After that, the family seemed pretty at ease with Tom, even after Harry explained what horcruxes were to the rest of them. Riddle, however, stayed tense, obviously not knowing how to act around the family. Danny first started questioning Tom on a number of things, such as magic, his relationship with Harry, the best method to do a spell, and what books he’d read, and Remus soon joined in asking questions, just as curious, but a little more hesitant around the dark wizard.

The other four—James, Sirius, Lily, and Harry—were also lounging around the living room. They seemed busy with their own things, but Tom could tell they were listening in to their conversation intently. James and Sirius were playing a magical board game, Harry had a new book out, and Lily went back to her potion.

“What are you going to be doing with Harry?” Remus asked.

“I have no actual clue. He told me I was smart, and then told me I should forget everything I know,” Tom sighed.

“So you do you have memories from the horcruxes you reabsorbed?” Danny questioned next.

“Not really memories, but a bit of their emotions.”

“What’s happening with the war?”

“My followers think I’m dead, and I’m content to leave it that way.”

“What’s your favorite food?”

“Anything chocolate- wait, what?” Tom looked over to Danny with a raised eyebrow, as if he’d heard the kid wrong. “Why would you want to know that?”

“Research purposes,” Danny answered thoughtfully, nodding.

Tom squinted.

“So, what’re you planning to do when Harry goes to Hogwarts?” Remus tried next.

“Go back to planning world domination.”

He felt the suspicious glares of the entire room on him, albeit the twins. Harry sent a pointed look his way, letting Tom know he didn’t believe a word of that.

Tom sighed. “I have no clue what I’ll be doing. Suppose it’s up to Harry.”

“Hey, Harry,” Danny glanced over to his brother. “What kind of mark was Mr. Voldemort supposed to give me that one night?”

“Please just call me Tom.”

“Hm?” Harry looked up from his book. “The mark? It was a lightning bolt on the forehead. I’m sure Tom could tell you what it is.”

“Wait, me?”

“You have all the context clues. I wanna see if you can figure it out.”

Remus glanced over. “Harry, exactly how much have you told Mr. Riddle?”

“Just Tom,” he sighed. “And let’s see.. I know about the scar, the prophecy, the mother’s protection, Parseltongue.. only survivor of the killing curse.. pain whenever Quirrel looked at you..” He counted off each of the things on his fingers, chewing on his bottom lip.

Everyone watched the moment it clicked in Tom’s mind. “Horcrux. You- The scar is a horcrux. You were my horcrux.”

“Dang, I thought it would take you longer,” Harry said casually.

Tom was staring at Harry with a horrified look in his eyes; his face was paling quickly as the thought sunk in. His hands were shaking, clenched together so tightly they were white.

“N- No. You don’t get it. You- You were my horcrux.”

(Why doesn’t he understand? )

Harry knew that something was wrong now, and he frowned. “Tom?”

“I- I think I’m going to leave now. I- I’ve overstayed my welcome.” Tom looked close to hyperventilating, perhaps already was. He made it over to the front door and was already slamming it shut behind him before any of them realized what was really happening.

Harry stared at the door for a moment, then glanced to his family. They were wearing confused expressions, looking a bit concerned at why Tom had suddenly left.

(Did Tom know he’d already gotten the Potter’s to care for him, even in such a short amount of time?)

“I’m.. I’m gonna go after him.” Harry decided, glancing back at his family for unnecessary permission.

Lily nodded with a soft smile. “Invite him to dinner tonight. We’re having spaghetti.”

Danny met Harry’s eyes, sending him reassurance he didn’t know he needed. And then Harry was off, closing the door behind him.

. . . . .

“You found me awfully quick,” Tom muttered, not even glancing over from his book.

“With a soul as mutilated as yours, I could find you anywhere in a heartbeat,” Harry replied easily, sitting down next to the dark wizard.

“Is that the only reason you can find me?”

“No,” Harry paused. “But some things are better left unknown.”

Tom flipped a page. “You have some sort of automatic homing beacon on me, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you cast the spell?”

“Nope. Comes with the territory.”

“You mean the territory of me being your slave.”

“That’d be it.”

Tom sighed and snapped Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets shut, setting it aside. He’d barely gotten a page in, and it was obvious he wouldn’t be able to focus any time soon. “Why are you here?”

“Why did you leave?” Harry retorted.

“Harry, you were my horcrux,” Tom stressed.

“I was.”

“You..” Tom started, “You don’t understand. What that means to me.”

Harry met Tom’s eyes. “Then explain it to me.”

“The horcrux- it bonded with you when you were only a year old. It was on your forehead. You were a baby.” Tom tried, biting his lip and ruffling his hair. “It could’ve completely taken over your personality. Easily.”

“But it didn’t. I’m still me.”

“Even if it didn’t, it was still with you from early childhood. It had probably completely bonded to you by the time you went to Hogwarts. And the only way you could’ve possibly gotten rid of it at that point was by completely dying.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. He already knew this. Knew that he wasn’t supposed to come back that night. But he had.

“Harry, you died. I killed you.”

“Tom, you didn’t do that. That was a completely different Voldemort.”

“I almost turned into him.”

“I can assure you that you didn’t.”

“Harry,” Tom glanced over, finally, his voice on the edge of cracking. “Why did you die?”

Harry played oblivious. “What do you mean?”

“Why did the horcrux separate from your body?”

“The Battle of Hogwarts,” Harry stated with a blunt voice. “Voldemort had long since infiltrated the school. My friends and I.. had gone horcrux hunting. We’d actually found them all, too. Broke into Gringotts and everything! … I don’t recommend. But, Voldemort had found out that I had snuck into the castle, and he ordered all of his minions to attack the school. He wanted me to give myself up for their lives.”

Harry took a slightly shaky breath, barely noticeable, but Tom saw nonetheless. “And so I did. I gave myself up.”

“.. And I killed you.”

“.. Yeah.” Harry paused, lost in solemn thought. “I didn’t know about the horcrux in me. Dumbledore knew, but he’d never mentioned it. He knew I would have to die for the war to end—for Voldemort to die. He’d.. purposely raised me to be weak, submissive, easy to manipulate. I told you that.. that I hate being controlled. I hate it so much. I hate being used, I hate being treated like a tool, I hate having no say in anything, because.. that’s all my first life consisted of. I was a tool, only meant to be used, right down to the day I died. But.. even knowing that, I still.. I still like the thought of controlling others. Knowing that, no matter how much they try, they can never use me again. Maybe I want payback? ..I don’t know why.”

Tom sat quietly for a few moments. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but Harry still waited for Tom to break it, to give an explanation as to why.

“… Perhaps I’m not the best person to tell you this, but.. I don’t think you’re wrong. It’s only natural for you to want to be in control of your life after your first life. It’s.. what makes us human.”

“.. I don’t think I’m human.”

“We could argue that I’m not either.”

Harry waved his hand, almost laughing at the irony. A bitter laugh. “Just two monsters, pretending to be human.”

Tom hummed his agreement. “I.. liked controlling people. It made me feel like I was better than all of them, after I grew up constantly at the bottom. It made me feel wonderful, knowing that all of the people who made fun of me would bow at my feet, despite me being so much inferior, in their eyes.”

“Then why would you choose to give all of that up, just for me?”

And then Tom gave him the look again. The one where he’s staring at Harry with such adoration and amazement and respect, and Harry still doesn’t understand why anybody would look at him with such a look, and Tom seems almost desperate for Harry to understand exactly what he sees when he looks at the boy. Like he can’t fathom how Harry doesn’t know, how he can’t see what Tom sees in him.

“Because I found something that I like even more.”

“.. I don’t know what you see in me,” Harry muttered. He thought of a possible reason, and his mood seemed to deflate even more. “.. Is it because of my magic?”

“No!” Tom shook his head quickly, denying it immediately, and making his perfect hair mess up but still somehow look perfect. “It’s not—At first, it was. Your magic.. It’s wonderful. Every time you do something, even just making an apple float, it’s like.. It feels like home. Like I belong there. Like I’m actually worth something in the world, just by being near you.”

“I never thought you’d develop an inferiority complex,” Harry joked, trying to cover up how he had no clue how to answer that, or even begin thinking what it might mean in the first place. How he wouldn’t believe a word of it, if not for Tom’s sincerity on the matter.

(How his magic shouldn’t feel like anything but death and destruction , because that’s all he is.)

“I don’t think it is,” Tom replied honestly. “You just.. helped me realize that there’s much bigger things in the universe than me.”

“… What’s the reason you’re staying now?”

Tom glanced over with a questioning look.

“You said.. it was my magic at first..” Harry specified with a pained expression. “But you denied it being the reason now.”

“It’s because.. you’re you.”

As if his simple answer explained everything.

Harry didn’t understand.

He wasn’t sure if he would ever understand.

“I am nothing without my magic.”

“You would still be Danny’s brother. You would still be a wonderful storyteller. You would still be smart, cunning, and have fast reflexes. You would still love treacle tart. You would still be the most important person in my entire life. You would still be somebody I would follow to the ends of the universe. You would still be somebody I would gladly give up everything for, just to spend even a moment in your presence,” Tom stated confidently, not a trace of doubt found in his voice.

Harry was still at a loss for words. It seems this was happening a lot.

“Hey, Harry,” Tom glanced over, then back away, all traces of previous confidence gone, “Can we be friends?”

And Harry, for once, knew the answer.

“I’d like that.”

Chapter Text

“We’re back!” Harry stepped inside, holding hands with Tom and leading him back, as if to quell an underlying fear that he would leave again if he let go.

Instantly, the smell of spaghetti wafted through the house, reminding both Harry and Tom exactly how hungry they were.

“Welcome back, you two. Tom, dear, are you staying for lunch?” Lily asked, already setting out another plate before he’d answered.

At that point, Tom had no choice but to nod and accept, though he had no plans to deny the offer in the first place. “Thank you. It smells wonderful.”

Harry led Tom over to an extra chair. He squeezed his hand just a bit tighter, then finally dropped it—the first time since they’d had their talk. Danny immediately pushed a drink over to Tom’s seat, then got Harry’s and his own, concealing a hidden smirk inside a bright smile.

Tom stared at the cup. “It.. has a straw.”

“It does,” Harry agreed, also staring at the innocent straw in a bit of awe.

The straw was plastic—one of those colored straws with shapes in the loops, which happened to be pink and hearts this time. The drink itself looked to be chocolate milk, obviously courtesy of Danny’s innocent question to him earlier. Harry didn’t even know they had straws.

Neither Harry nor Tom found anything wrong with the drink as a whole, but they had both known him when he’d been an insane Dark Lord who had tried, and succeeded in other cases, to murder Harry’s entire family. For Tom to be drinking something so.. innocent and pure, it was almost ironic. They could tell stories to people about how the chosen boy from the prophecy gave the Dark Lord chocolate milk with a straw shaped like hearts.

Tom took a sip, as if nothing was wrong or out of place. Harry was failing to hold back a laugh, and only when Tom caught Harry’s eyes did his blank face fail him and he started laughing too, almost spilling the milk he’d just drank.

The rest of the family soon appeared and Tom and Harry quickly quieted their laughter, though some snickers still snuck through. Danny sat down on the other side of Harry, his usual spot, giving Tom a knowing smile when he’d seen the cup just a bit more empty.

James walked into the room last, after everybody else had already sat down, and immediately just stopped in his tracks.

“It has a straw.”

“It does,” Tom agreed, keeping a straight face again.

Tom picked up the drink again and sipped it through the straw, making straw noises purposely, and never breaking eye contact with James. James only stared, watching the Dark Lord drink from a pink heart straw.

Danny and Harry were on the verge of laughing, but somehow managed not to. The rest of the family had no idea how to respond to any of this, so they just continued watching, waiting for something to happen.

And something did.

Tom suddenly splutters, leaning over with a hand on the table, almost spilling but having enough graceful tact to stop himself before he spits it out with his other hand to his mouth. He took a moment to swallow, before coughing for a few moments, looking much too tired for somebody only in their early 20’s, even if he really wasn’t.

“Wha-” James squinted, but was immediately cut off.

Tom whipped around, glaring daggers at the boy behind him. “SMALL BRAT.”

“Yes?” Harry answered, the picture of innocence.

Tom opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, then opened it again. In the end, he just sighed in exasperation. “Harry, darling, can I punch you?”

“No.”

Tom doesn’t even look surprised at his answer, as if he’d been expecting it all along. “I should’ve known you had ulterior motives. I should’ve known this would be nothing but a trap. Were all these memories—all these times we spent together—were they nothing but a sick ruse for your own enjoyment? I should be sick, absolutely disgusted, with you, but instead I’m only disappointed. Disappointed in myself, for not realizing this was nothing but a joke to you. Disappointed in you, for gaining my trust and then staBBING ME IN THE BACK.”

And Harry couldn’t help it—he laughed. “Oh Merlin, no matter what universe we’re in, you’re still a drama queen.”

“I have to live up to your expectations, after all,” Tom smirked, as if he didn’t just go on a rant about being stabbed in the back by a child. “Also, I would make a radiant queen.”

“I can’t deny that. You really would,” Harry agreed easily. “But could you pull off wearing a dress?”

“Absolutely.”

“Alright, alright, time to eat, you two,” Lily interrupted. “Before the food gets cold.”

James seemed to have recovered from Tom’s outburst, and was stroking his chin in thought. “They have a point. He would look pretty good in a dress.”

“Dear,” Lily sighed, and then sighed again when the family laughed at her accidental pun, “please stop hitting on the Dark Lord.”

After that, lunch continued on peacefully. Or, as peaceful as you can get when you have the Marauders, the Master of Death, the Chosen Boy, and the Dark Lord all sitting at one table. Even if their titles really had nothing to do with the chaos.

“Harry, small brat, would you mind changing my drink back?” Tom asked with a pleasant smile, despite his harsher tone.

“Okay, for real though, do you.. not like.. strawberry milk?”

“Apparently not.”

“Fair enough.” Harry waved his hand, which Tom knew now to be a completely unnecessary motion, and the milk changed from a pink tinge back into a brown one. It also refilled.

(Tom supposed he could be forgiven this one time.)

“So,” Sirius starts, still slurping noodles, “When are we getting Moldyshort’s nice trinkets back?”

“I implore you to call me Tom,” Tom almost pleaded.

Harry glanced over with an amused smile. “Isn’t this the opposite of what you used to want?”

“Yes, yes, gloat all you want, but that doesn’t change the fact that if you called me Voldemort, or even.. Moldyshorts.. in public, there would be a riot,” Tom reasoned logically, which was true, but Harry saw it for what it really was.

Harry leaned closer, leaning against the table with one arm. “You don’t have to make excuses; nobody here will judge you.”

Tom glared at Harry, but there was no real heat behind it. Instead, they only stared at each other, waiting for one of them to back out. It didn’t take long for Tom to glance away, sighing, and looking much more hesitant and bashful than he had a moment ago. (Harry quickly decided he liked that look on him.)

“I.. I’d rather you call me Tom than anything Voldemort-related, because.. I don’t want you to associate me with him anymore,” Tom mumbled, close to blushing a furious red. “I.. don’t want Harry’s family to be scared of me, or to hate me, or to think I have anything nefarious planned, because.. here, with Harry, I can just be Tom. I’d hate for you guys to hate me because then Harry might be put in a position to choose between us, and I already know he’d choose his family-” Tom cut himself off suddenly, hanging his head low and avoiding eye contact.

Harry would bet that Tom was a bright red, not used to being so open with his feelings.

“And I guess.. being here, with Harry’s family.. it feels like.. a new start. Not that I’m making excuses for my past, no, I fully own up to it, and fully expect and accept any retribution you may have against me.” Tom waved his hands a bit, denying their doubt before it had formed.

(If only Tom knew that they’d never had any doubt about him, ever since Harry had brought him home. They’d accepted Harry’s trust of him, and in turn, trusted Tom themselves.)

(For all it mattered to them, Tom was already part of the family.)

Tom, ignorantly unaware of their thoughts, only continued with his spiel, in too deep to stop now. “I suppose it feels like I’m able to be myself here, without any of the masks or lies that I always have. Harry already knows all my tricks and secrets, so I feel like I’m able to let my guard down and not have to worry about a sneak attack or keeping up a mask or about any expectations from the Death Eaters. Here, I don’t have to worry about being a Dark Lord… I can just be Tom.”

The family sat in silence for a minute, nobody really sure what to say.

Surprisingly, Tom was the next one to speak, despite having finished his speech. “Well, that was the most emotional thing I have ever said.”

Harry grinned, catching onto Tom’s sudden playfulness, also known as a ploy to change the topic as quick as possible. “You know, have I ever told you about the time I met a different Voldemort? This must’ve been like, the fifth one I’d met, and honestly, I was just tired of them at that point.”

Tom looked vaguely insulted, while the rest of the family was definitely both intrigued and amused.

“It was just your regular ‘Voldemort wanting to rule the world’ gig, and I was just some random muggle he kept running into on the streets. As in, I was pointedly behaving like a muggle, and was born as one, while traipsing around in the wizarding world,” Harry explained, falling into another one of his stories that the whole family enjoyed. “I would make sure to run into him while he was busy trying to do a raid or something, and I’d just laugh at his pointy stick and call him out on his nice special effects, since he had no clue that none of his spells affected me. He never gave up trying to kill me, no matter how many times it didn’t work and how many times I made fun of him.”

Tom made his displeasure known by sipping his chocolate milk loudly. Harry could see that Tom was only pretending; he had a fascinated look in his eyes, much too absorbed in the story to be genuinely upset. And Harry knew Tom didn’t mind a bit of teasing, even if Voldemort had protested and announced his hatred often.

“Of course, along with trying to kill me, he also monologued like a stereotypical super-villain, which meant the wonderful third person “Lord Voldemort does not have time for a simple muggle!” thing. Anyways, I got him to admit his human name was Tom Riddle after a lot of pestering, and I swear he almost tried to punch me in the face a couple times. Never actually did—probably thought that fighting like a muggle was beneath him, honestly.”

Harry paused to sip Tom’s drink, reveling in the glare Tom sent him, and happily noticing that Tom did nothing to try and stop him.

“So, of course, as soon as I ‘learned’ his real name,” Harry finger-quoted ‘learned,’ seeing as he already knew it from his previous lives. “I did nothing but call him Tim.”

This time, Tom couldn’t help but break the silence with his own incredulous stare. “Tim?!”

“Yeah, I’d always just call him Tim. Like, “Hey, Tim! How’s your fancy light show been working out for you?” and he would get so mad, I literally had a hard time to not burst out laughing every time I saw him. And he’d always respond back with “It’s not Tim! It’s Tom! And it’s not Tom, it’s Voldemort!!” and he’d proceed to hiss like a snake for half a minute—not even Parseltongue, just blatant hissing.”

Danny grinned, already having heard this story before from when they were younger, and the rest of the family were trying to hide their obvious smiles, not wanting to insult Tom by laughing. Sirius and James were definitely failing, not even bothering to cover up their smile with a hand, and only looking more interested in Harry’s tale.

The entire family, including Harry, startled out of their focus on the story when Tom voiced a sudden laugh, even surprising himself it seemed. He adopted a confused face for a quick second, as if he wasn’t even sure what he just did. And then he started laughing again, and once he’d started, he suddenly couldn’t stop, and Harry found himself laughing along with Tom, genuinely enjoying himself.

(In the back of his mind, Harry realized he really liked Tom’s laugh, and hoped to be able to make him laugh like this more.)

Eventually, they were able to calm down enough for Harry to continue, though Tom continued to cover his mouth to stop any laughter that dared to escape.

“I always had a habit of showing up at the worst times for him usually, other than when we met up on a walk. Apparently even evil Dark Lords needed exercise, so his first logical conclusion was to walk around the block in a muggle neighborhood. Or maybe he was plotting out attack zones. I dunno,” Harry continued on, shrugging. “There was a couple times.. Well, actually, I’ll tell you about the first time.”

Harry could see their confused expressions, silently asking what he was referring to, and Tom dawning a suspicious look, as if he knew what Harry was about to say. Danny was smiling, already knowing what comes next and innocently glancing at Tom, which Tom obviously knew about from his small spike of (pretend) irritation every time it happened.

“The first time, I caught Voldy in the middle of one of his raids. He was off to the side, watching the Death Eaters reign destruction over the muggle neighborhood. I came up behind him and yelled “TIM RODDLE!” with all of my anger. He jumped like five feet in the air, and it was so funny looking back on it later, but at that moment, I was pretty angry. He didn’t even berate me on calling him that, since he seemed to sense my fury. I didn’t hurt him, but I must’ve lectured him for ten minutes straight in an exceedingly angry voice right next to a bunch of burning houses. It must’ve been a strange sight, cause this weird reptile guy, who all the Death Eaters knew as their leader, was actually cowering back in fear of me, some random muggle. They probably assumed one of those houses was mine, which, luckily for him, wasn’t.”

Harry paused for a moment to take another sip of Tom’s drink, who didn’t even bother looking upset at it. In fact, Tom took a sip himself right after Harry set it down, seemingly not bothered at all by the fact they were sharing a straw.

“The second time I called him Tim Roddle, he was about to kill an innocent kid who was bawling their eyes out. They’d been living off on the streets, it seemed, and tried to rob him for some money, probably to survive.”

Harry noticed Tom going slightly pale, so he continued on quickly.

“Anyways, Voldy heard me yell out that name from across the street, and he turned towards me so quickly I swear I heard his neck crack. The kid bolted the first chance they got, and I, again, spent another few minutes lecturing Voldy and making my displeasure known. “Tim, what in the actual HELL were you thinking?! Murdering a random kid?! I thought you were better than this, Tim. Boy, Ms. Roddle is going to be so pissed at you! You’ll be grounded for half a century if I have any say in this!” I wasn’t actually.. that mad at him, but I had to keep up appearances.”

“The third time, he wasn’t actually doing anything. I just saw him randomly on the streets—didn’t even try to track him down—and he was just taking one of his wonderful walks around the neighborhood. So, obviously, the first thing I did was yell out “TIM RODDLE” in my angriest voice. Merlin, it was so funny; he didn’t even contradict my name-calling, only startled and immediately yelled back “I’m not even doing anything this time!” but for some reason, he didn’t try to stop my ten minute rant, like he’d rather not face the consequences of pissing me off more. At the end, I remember laughing at his face because he was so annoyed. Half way through the lecture, I had started talking about a random topic—I believe it was different cotton candy flavors—and he didn’t even try to stop me, and instead just stood there with an impatient look, waiting for me to finish.”

Harry paused, falling back into the old memories of what his other lives had been like.

“I had fun admitting I was only doing all of it to annoy him, and I told him I actually knew what magic was, and who he was. Of course, he questioned me about it, and it turned into our first real conversation, which was mostly me laughing at his annoyed expression and attempts to get me to tell him everything.”

The story suddenly died off there. Harry was lost in his thoughts, memories of old times flashing through his eyes, and a frown growing steadily on his face.

Tom, Danny, Remus, and Lily seemed to realize the sudden shift in the atmosphere, but Sirius and James stayed oblivious, still too enticed in the story to realize it was over.

“So? What happened next?” Sirius pressed after a full minute of silence had passed.

Harry startled out of his thoughts, looking rightfully confused for a second. “Hm? Oh- uh, that.. was the last time we met up. He was killed a few days after that, in the final battle against good and evil. I went to look around a bit a few days later, or perhaps it had been closer to weeks. Months, maybe.” He paused, looking off into the distance and pointedly avoiding everybody’s stares. “All of the students were recovering nicely, and all of the dead had been honored. Even the Death Eaters had been buried and given a funeral, not that many people attended them.”

“Well, everybody except for Voldemort, that is.” Harry smiled, all too fake and they knew it. “They burned his body to ashes and then burned the ashes, and chucked all the dust in the sewers. Apparently, they were worried about him trying to come back again, but it was obvious they already knew he wasn’t. They just- They didn’t think he even deserved a grave, much less a funeral. And I know it’s stupid, but..” Harry ruffled his hair, his frustration making it wilder than it already was. “Merlin, that was exactly why he became Voldemort in the first place! They acted as if he didn’t exist. Riddle feared being forgotten by everybody, so that’s exactly what they made happen. But, even so, even in their anger, why couldn’t they have respected the fact he died.”

“I.. I was so upset over it for such a long time, and at first, I didn’t even realize why. And then- it just hit me. They refused to treat him like a human. They just- his entire life, all he wanted was to be noticed, for his life not to be meaningless, and they continually took that chance away from him, right until the day he died. First, it was because he was an orphan, then because he was a muggle-born, then because he was a dark wizard, and then because they all gained some sick satisfaction from pretending he didn’t exist. I wanted to shake them all and force them to just acknowledge his existence. He wasn’t a nice person, I know, but.. he didn’t deserve that,” Harry ranted, almost too quiet and still in his rage.

“In the end, I made him his own grave. It wasn’t anything special, mind you, but at least it existed. Didn’t take long before a couple wizards found it, and of course they tried to destroy it. It wasn’t in the way, it wasn’t something big or grand, it wasn’t even that noticeable, but that wasn’t good enough for them, I guess, they still tried their hardest to get through my wards just to have fun kicking it. Within like, four days, every wizard in Britain had tried their hardest to break it, and after that, they just.. left. Pretended it never existed, just like anything else about him.” Harry was almost shaking from his anger, clenching his fists until they were white. “I’d visit and talk for a while sometimes, just because nobody else would ever go near it. Because I was the only one. No family, no friends, no funeral, no grave until I made him one. Not even a rock tossed to the ground in his memory.”

Harry seemed to finally realize he’d been ranting for the past ten minutes, which had never been his intention. He’d only wanted to share a fun story about Tim from his past, and he’d gotten lost in the memories. He met his family’s gaze one at a time, each of them wide-eyed in shock at what he’d just said. Danny had started holding his hand sometime during his spiel and softly gestured to behind Harry, giving him a small, but genuine, smile.

Harry turned around to meet Tom’s eyes and paused.

Tom was crying again, which seemed to be a common theme lately, wiping his tears against his sleeve, sniffing softly. He met Harry’s gaze, still leaking tears that just wouldn’t stop, and brought Harry in for a hug despite his shaking arms. Harry froze, never thinking Tom would initiate any physical contact between them, or anyone else, but gently hugged back after a moment.

Only because he was this close to Tom could he hear his soft whispers, so quiet even Harry almost missed them. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

And Harry understood. He knew what it was like to be forgotten and unwanted. He knew that Tom was thanking him for respecting—treating him like a person—even in death. For giving him the chance that nobody else had.

. . . . .

“So, who’s all coming to Gringotts with me?” Sirius stood up from where he was lounging on the couch, stretching. “Tom’s going, obviously, but anyone else wanna come? Harry? Danny?”

The twins, lying on the floor and leaning on each other, looked up from their coloring book. Danny and Harry shared a look before both nodded at the same time.

“Yeah, we’ll both go,” Harry answered.

Tom glanced up from his book, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, and bookmarked his page before setting it down on the coffee table. “With all of these interruptions, I’ll never get past chapter two.”

“That’s okay. You don’t appear until, like, chapter eight. You wrote on the wall in chicken blood.”

Tom looks disgusted at himself, but doesn’t bother asking why.

“I have no clue what either of you are talking about, and I really don’t think I want to know.” James stared at the duo with a deadpan look, the a similar one to the look Harry would give him when he was being an idiot. (At least he knew that he wasn’t just imagining those looks anymore when Harry was a baby-)

“Just about my second year in Hogwarts,” Harry smiled.

James squinted. “Like I said, I don’t think I want to know.”

“Anyways, come on guys!! I haven’t gotten to spend any time with my kids recently, and this is a perfect opportunity!” Sirius beckoned, now excitedly latched onto the idea of time with the kids.

“They’re my kids, Pads!”

“Coming, Uncle Paddy,” Danny answered.

The twins stood up and pulled Sirius out the door, and Tom followed suit after grabbing his book. (Harry faintly wondered why he’d put it down in the first place.) Once outside, they apparated to Diagon Alley, pretending as if one of the eight year-olds didn’t just apparate himself and his brother, who didn’t stop holding hands, even after landing.

Diagon Alley hadn’t changed since the last time Harry had been here. The streets were still bustling with bright colors and people in robes, all giving off the faint sense of magic that permanently laces the air. Even comparing it to his first life, not much had changed between that and this, and it made nostalgia settle in his head for a moment, until he was brought back to the present by Danny’s soft grip on his hand.

“Alrighty,” Sirius grinned. “How about we get the Gringotts trip out of the way, and then I’ll take you all to get ice cream?”

“Yeah!!” Harry and Danny exclaimed together.

Tom looked confused at Sirius’ offer. He hesitated for a moment before asking, “.. Did you mean.. me.. too?”

Sirius turned around to face Tom, already having started to walk off in his excitement. He stared at him for a second too long, as if deciding if he was being serious or not, only succeeding in making Tom nervous. In the end, he cocks his head to he side. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I.. I mean.. there’s no real reason for me to be included in your family outing. I’m.. I’m not a part of your family.” Tom seemed like he only wanted out of the conversation, subconsciously backing up from Sirius’ gaze.

“What?” Sirius looked just as confused as Tom felt, though not half as nervous. “Of course you’re family.”

And that just makes Tom freeze in his tracks. Sirius Black considers him family? But he tried to torture him..? Not to mention kill his best friend’s family, and kidnapped his kid for two years, and killed a whole bunch of others, like Sirius’ entire family, and didn’t he have a brother-

By the time Tom snapped out of his thoughts, Sirius, Danny, and Harry were almost out of sight, continuing on their path to Gringotts. They didn’t even pause to realize what they’d just said, or what it meant, or how Sirius couldn’t have possibly meant it.

He had to speed up to a light jog for a minute, but quickly caught up to the others just as they reached the entrance.

Once inside, Harry bounded right up to one of the goblins at a desk. They were filling out paperwork and clearly had a ‘leave me alone’ attitude, but it didn’t seem to dissuade Harry at all.

“Griphook, my friend, it has been many years,” Harry spoke softly, but still loud enough for the goblin to hear.

The goblin—Griphook—calmly looked up from his paperwork. “Mr. Peverell, it has been quite some time, indeed. I would love to catch up with you for a while, but that is not what you are here for, is it?” He sent a toothy grin Harry’s way.

At this point, a couple wizards had started to notice the conversation, standing in poorly-hidden shock. Sirius was one of these people, but his shock quickly morphed into a grin. He hadn’t expected this on his trip to Gringotts, no, but that didn’t make it any less cool. Harry was friends with a goblin, the most unfriendly creatures he’s ever met.

“I’ve told you before to call me Harry,” Harry retorted, but from his fond grin, they could tell he was only joking. “Sadly, no, I’m here on business this time. I’ll stop in for a chat soon, though. It’s been much too long since we’ve last had a chance to meet.”

“Well? What do you need?”

“My uncle would like to access Bellatrix Lestrange’s vault to grab Hufflepuff’s cup,” Harry answered easily, attracting a few more stares from passerby who happened to overhear. “I’d also like to check my own vaults and possessions, if it would not be too much trouble.”

“Of course not, Harry. If there’s anybody I would make time for, it would be you.”

“You flatter me, Griphook. Sadly, I have a beloved.”

Tom’s head spun in confusion at that statement, making him almost dizzy. Harry has a lover? He doesn’t know what he feels about that fact, but he definitely feels something towards that, if the sudden feeling in his stomach is anything to go by. Sirius seemed to be having similar thoughts, but Danny only smiled, as if he was in on the big secret.

“You certainly have an unhealthy obsession with space, Mr. Peverell, but I’d hardly count is as a beloved.”

“You wound me, Griphook.”

(Tom refuses to acknowledge the relief coursing through his body, because that would be admitting there was a reason it developed in the first place.)

“Come along.” Griphook beckoned Harry and his family to follow him, getting up from his seat. Once standing, Tom noticed that Harry, and incidentally Danny, was only slightly taller than the goblin, even only being a small child. (Tom hasn’t thought of Harry as a child in a very long time.)

They were led down a hallway into a door, which revealed a simple room with a desk, a couple chairs, and even some comfy-looking couches. It was easily big enough for the five of them, and judging from Harry’s earlier conversation, was probably suited for not only comfort, but privacy as well.

Harry took a seat on one of the chairs, while Sirius, Danny, and Tom decided to sit off to the side on the couches. They really had no clue what was going on at the moment, but all of them trusted Harry, so they weren’t too worried.

Griphook took a seat at the desk, pulling out a small stack of papers, along with a short blade, handing it to Harry. “If you would.”

Harry accepts the knife and pricks his finger, letting three drops of blood fall onto a blank piece of parchment in front of him. As the third drop hit, words started forming until the entire sheet was covered.

Tom had never known anybody’s parchment to be so long, but he doesn’t think it’s that big of a surprise once he remembers that Harry holds the title of ‘Master of Death’. He still doesn’t really know what that title actually means, other than Harry is immortal, really powerful, and able to travel dimensions, but sometimes he sees Harry zone out for minutes at a time with a haunted look in his eyes and decides it’s better if he doesn’t know.

While Tom was lost in his thoughts, Harry scanned over the sheet, seeing what was new and what wasn’t. So far, everything looked pretty similar to his vaults in his first life, other than some minor changes, such as amount of money or certain books he’s already read. Many of his titles aren’t on the sheet, but seeing as many of them don’t exist in this universe, it doesn’t surprise Harry.

He skims through the next few lines by habit, since he’s already familiar with everything on the list, and then is forced to back up and reread something Harry’s sure he read wrong.

Harry frowned, unsure how to process the new addition. He quickly makes a soundproof bubble around himself and Griphook with a wave of his hand, and Harry is so thankful that his family and Tom don’t look betrayed or angry at him for keeping this from them, if only for the moment, when they realize they can no longer hear anything Harry or Griphook is saying. That they trust him so much.

“It seems I have a problem,” Harry stated, as if it wasn’t obvious already.

Griphook raised an eyebrow, and Harry showed him the parchment.

“I’ve lived in countless lives with many different Voldemorts, but this is the first time this has happened,” Harry tried to explain his concern.

The goblin studied the parchment for a moment, as if staring at it will reveal the hidden solution. Or, more likely, he’s taking a moment to organize his thoughts. “It seems that Lady Magic has formally recognized you as the master of Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

“Any ideas to why?” Harry questioned. “I mean, I can guess lots of reasons as to why, but which one do you think is most likely?”

“Did you agree to take him on as your slave?”

“Nope. Apprentice, actually.”

“Does Mr. Riddle know about his status?”

“Yeah, I told him how it happened, but I also told him that I don’t intend to take him up on that offer.”

Griphook seemed thoughtful for a moment, and he hesitated—only for a mere half second, but it was still there. “Perhaps Mr. Riddle accepted the role of slave himself, which seems unlikely-”

Groaning, Harry hit his head against the desk. “Yeah, that’d be it. He keeps bringing up the topic that he’s my slave, and how he wouldn’t mind following my orders, but I.. I’m scared to take him up on that offer. He wants me to trust him, but there’s so many other ways to earn that trust than forceful obedience.”

Griphook was silent for a moment, which turned into a couple minutes, before finally speaking. Harry waited patiently, willing to hear his friend out. Goblins were smart, and it wouldn’t be wise to ignore their advice.

“You should take Mr. Riddle up on his offer.”

Obviously, that hadn’t been what Harry was expecting. “Why?”

“Harry, we have been friends for many years. The fact that you are so reluctant to control anybody, even Tom Riddle, is precisely why you should. If he has accepted his role as your slave, then it is only fair that you accept as his master.”

Sure, that sounded like a perfectly logical conclusion, but Harry didn’t believe that was the entire reason for half a second. He showed his disbelief with a deadpan look, until the goblin relented.

“Call it a hunch. You two will end up helping each other more than you think.”

“Aren’t I the all-knowing god?” Harry mused.

“You’re not all-knowing, or you certainly wouldn’t be asking me for advice,” Griphook smirked back.

Harry only huffed a breath and dropped the bubble surrounding them, allowing the others to hear their conversation. He turned around, deciding to just get it done and over with. “Tom?”

“Yes?”

Harry could see he was trying to look disinterested, but his ruby eyes were laced with a fierce curiosity, betraying his inner emotions.

“I accept my role as your master.”

It took Tom a moment to comprehend what he’d just said, blinking several times until the thought sunk in. He tried hiding his excited smile behind his hand, but it failed pretty quickly.

Danny looked over in a curious gaze, then glanced over to Harry before smiling himself.

Sirius was extremely confused, eyebrows furrowed in thought, but obviously getting nowhere. “What- But I thought.. Didn’t you.. Didn’t you already agree to take him on as an apprentice?”

“Mr. Peverell and Mr. Riddle have both formally accepted their roles as master and slave, and it has been acknowledged by Lady Magic.”

Sirius snapped his head around to the short goblin, “What.”

Griphook seemed amused and cleared his throat to reread the passage, but Sirius cut him off. “No, I heard you just fine. I think.”

“Uncle Siri, are you okay?” Harry asked, a bit concerned on how Sirius would take the news. Perhaps he shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that-

“Yeah- yeah. I’ll be fine, kiddo. Just.. give me a minute to wrap my head around it.”

Harry didn’t really know what to respond to that, but thankfully Griphook came to the rescue. “Perhaps now would be a good time to grab Hufflepuff’s cup?”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s go do that. That sounds fun.” Sirius took a deep breath to try to calm himself, and it seemed to work a bit.

Harry tilted his head “Do you want me to come with?”

“That’d be great, little Prongs.”

Harry turned back to his brother and Tom. “Will you two be okay alone for a bit?”

“Of course,” Danny agreed.

Tom only nodded, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Harry had just agreed-

Griphook led Harry and Sirius out of the room. A moment later, the door shut with a soft ‘click’, leaving Tom and Danny alone together for the first time.

Tom didn’t start up any conversations, still not sure how to act around any of Harry’s family without him here. And Danny was the chosen one, even if Tom had no intentions of doing anything that would require him to step up into that role.

And Merlin, he couldn’t believe that Harry actually accepted him. Tom would have to thank Griphook whenever he came back, because he’s not really sure what Griphook had said to Harry for him to agree to it, but it was definitely nothing short of a miracle.

(Tom realizes that his thought process is really backward. He’s happy over the fact he’s now a slave.)

(But he’s Harry’s slave. He belongs to Harry.)

Danny walked over to in front of Tom, effectively snapping him out of his thoughts for the time being. The eight year-old stops in front of him, and despite Tom being in his early 20’s, and mentally much older, Tom can’t help but feel a bit guarded.

Danny stares at him for a minute with unreadable emotions in his eyes, and Tom doesn’t try to look away.

“You stole my brother away from me for two years,” Danny speaks, and there’s venom laced in his voice.

Tom nods slowly. There’s no use denying it. “I did.”

Danny pushes forward. “At lunch, you said you’d accept any retribution we may have against you.”

“I did.” Tom had said that, and he meant it too. He would accept any punishment Harry’s family may have for him.

“Tom, kneel.”

Chapter Text

“Tom, kneel.”

Tom had expected something like this. He considered Danny’s order, briefly entertaining the thought of disobeying, but easily decided not to. He’d been ready for the possibility of anything, and if Danny wanted to humiliate him, he had no qualms with it. Humiliation was expected, and pain more so.

Tom gracefully sunk to his knees, looking down at the ground, not daring to look Danny in the eyes. He didn’t need Harry’s brother to like him, but he wanted to be on good terms with Harry’s family. If Harry’s family didn’t like him, he’d be more likely to upset them. And if something were to happen that would make Harry choose between his family and him, Tom already knew the choice wouldn’t be him.

Danny wasn’t moving, and if his goal was to make Tom nervous, it was definitely working. He could feel Danny’s eyes staring at him, looking him up and down, but Tom wasn’t really sure what he was looking for. Either way, he didn’t move an inch, even though his knees were starting to ache from the hard floor and his body was already protesting the possibility of being tortured, trying to force him from the ground and away from the danger. But still, he didn’t move.

Danny reached an arm out, and Tom flinched back unintentionally.

The arm paused, halfway outstretched, and Tom risked a glance upwards, looking just as confused as he felt. The cold glare had seemed to vanish from Danny’s face, leaving only a fierce determination, but Tom wasn’t naive enough to believe the hatred had left, just like that. Danny had every reason to hate him—to take revenge—so there was no reason for him to pass up such a perfect opportunity.

Danny’s amber eyes connected with Tom’s blood red ones, and Danny’s face quirked into his common soft smile, despite the determination in his eyes never leaving.

In the next moment, Danny reached his hand out and flicked him on the forehead. Tom’s hands automatically went up to rub the small sting, but other than that, it didn’t hurt. No pain seeping through his entire body, no draining of all energy, not even a hint of magical residue.

Just.. a normal flick.

Tom knew his face was adorned with the most confused look, which didn’t deter Danny’s soft smile at all. His hands were back to his side, as if he had no further punishment to dish out, which Tom didn’t believe at all. Why waste such a perfect chance to exact revenge?

“I don’t.. I’m not happy with the fact you kidnapped my brother, nor the reasons why you did it. Harry may be immortal, but.. I’m not. I’m not immortal. Our time together is limited,” Danny started, avoiding Tom’s gaze. He kept his voice quiet, as if warding off the pain that threatened to seep through. “I hate that you took away some of that time from us. From Harry.”

“Then do something about it. You don’t need to hold back on my account.” Tom was almost proud of how steady his voice was.

Danny didn’t say anything for a while. He was avoiding Tom’s gaze, until, suddenly, he looked over, with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

“I forgive you.”

Tom could only stare, trying to comprehend what Danny said, trying to figure out if he just imagined or misheard. He must’ve misheard, right?

“Pardon?”

And Danny repeated himself. “I forgive you.”

Yeah, that’s what Tom thought he said.

But.. “Why?”

Danny cocked his head to the side. “You said you were insane when you did that, right?”

“Well, yes..” Tom relented.

“Do you have any plans to hurt Harry?”

Tom shook his head. “No! I would never- I would never hurt Harry. Or anybody he cares for. Never.”

“Then I don’t see why I can’t forgive you.”

Danny said that like it was really that simple. Like he could just up and forgive Tom for almost murdering his entire family, just because Tom said he wouldn’t do it again.

Tom doesn’t know how to respond. “I- but, why would you-”

Danny only moved closer, and his eyes almost seemed to glow, just like Harry’s do. It’s obvious, at times like these, why Harry and Danny are twins. “Are you sorry for what you did?”

“ Yes.”

“Then I forgive you.”

Tom looked away, unable to stand the glowing determination in Danny’s eyes. “I don’t- I don’t forgive myself.”

“You don’t have to. Just know that I—and my family—forgive you,” Danny murmurs. “We can tell how much you care for Harry, and that’s good enough. Uncle Siri agrees, and so does everybody else.”

Tom frowns for a minute before finally relenting. He sighed, nodding slowly. “Alright.”

Only a couple seconds later, the door handle jingles, and the door opens to show that Harry, Sirius, and Griphook had returned. From the stuff in their arms, it would seem that they were successful in retrieving the horcrux and more.

Harry entered first with the goblet in hand, and eyed Tom, who was still kneeling on the ground, just because he hadn’t had time to move yet, and then glanced at Danny with an amused expression. “Pulling a low-key Loki, huh?”

Tom had no idea what that meant, but he shifted to a different position before Sirius and Griphook have time to enter and see him. He glanced to Danny, only to see the twin smiling, probably in on whatever that meant. He’d ask Harry later, if he’s willing to explain.

“What’s going on, Small Prongs?”

Sirius had a small stack of books in his arms, along with a couple other random items that Tom couldn’t recognize. Griphook seemed to get the lucky straw, or perhaps Sirius had insisted to carry everything, not holding a single thing.

“Oh, nothing you need to worry about,” Harry waved off. “Can we visit Grimmauld Place today, as well?”

“I don’t see why not. But first,” Sirius grinned, and Tom is faintly reminded of a dog wagging their tail for some reason, “Ice cream!”

. . . . .

Tom licked his chocolate ice cream cone, wondering how his life had gotten to this point—so strange, so quickly. The kid destined to kill him, Danny, was sitting next to him in the booth, following a trail of Neapolitan ice cream that started dripping down. Diagonal from him, Sirius Black, the outcast Gryffindor who hates the dark side—Tom’s side—just as much as he hates his own family, dug into his own bowl of vanilla ice cream at an alarming pace, which gave Tom brain freeze just by looking at him.

And across from him, a literal god. Harry licked his own strawberry cone, creating a small swirl pattern on the pink ice cream. Tom doesn’t even know what all Harry is capable of, and he’s not sure he’ll ever know, really. Stories about his past lives seem like a common topic in their family, even if he’s only heard a couple of passing references. (Who the hell is Loki-)

Tom wondered how old Harry is. With how many past lives he’s had, with how his eyes seemed to glow with ancient knowledge, with how he speaks of his first life like it’d been years and years ago, it can’t be anything small. A thousand years is a long time to Tom, and probably is to literally anybody else, as well.

But to Harry, is a thousand years more than a quick second to him?

Tom was pulled out of his thoughts by his cone dripping onto his hand, making him wonder how long he’d zoned out for. He licked the drip, following it to the swirl, where the chocolate ice cream had started to take on a glossy appearance—which meant it was starting to melt.

He allowed himself to be pulled back into the conversation, where Harry was telling Sirius where the locket was located. Apparently, the house-elf—Kreacher—had it, and although Tom already knew the one in the cave was fake, he’s not sure why the house-elf has it now.

Sirius seemed to have similar thoughts, but actually voiced them. “Why does Kreacher have Tom’s locket? Kreacher was my.. my brother’s house-elf.”

Harry stared at Sirius for a moment with an unreadable expression, before his eyes flickered over to Tom for only a brief instant. Tom wondered if he only imagined it.

“Regulus Black was one of Voldemort’s Death Eaters.” Harry’s voice was carefully neutral, only giving facts and never taking sides. “He’d started having doubts against the dark side for a while, but with Voldemort, well, you can’t exactly voice them, can you?”

Tom licked his ice cream again, never breaking his gaze from the cone. Harry only speaks the truth, after all-

“One day, Voldemort asked to borrow Kreacher, and Regulus agreed, eager to please his master—leading Voldemort to test his defenses for the horcrux on the house-elf. Kreacher only survived because of his house-elf magic, and told Regulus what happened.”

Harry licked his own ice cream, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “Because of that, Regulus learned that Voldemort had made horcruxes—the reason behind his immortality. So he decided to turn against the dark side with a final revolt. He made a fake locket, drank the potion, and then was dragged into the lake to his death. Kreacher switched the lockets, and is still trying to follow Regulus’ last order—to destroy the horcrux.”

Tom very pointedly didn’t look at Sirius. Perhaps Sirius could forgive him for trying to murder his best friends and kidnapping his godson, but Tom was the reason for his brother’s death. Merlin, this was all a big mistake, why did he ever think this was a good idea? To pretend like he actually deserved to sit with Harry’s family, to pretend that they could ever care for him. Merlin, he doesn’t deserve to even be near Harry, much less be friends with him. Even being his slave sounds like too much of a privilege at this point, because then he’d still be able to be around Harry-

Again, Tom is snapped back into reality, this time by Harry’s hand waving in front of his face, obviously noticing he’d zoned out. The three of them were all staring at him in concern (why weren’t they angry-), and Tom, unsure how to deal with feelings as ever, only raised an eyebrow and licked his ice cream.

Oh. That’s why.

Tom stared at his cone. It was nothing more than the crushed remains at this point, leaking chocolate ice cream out of every side. His hand was covered in the sticky mess, which continued to drip onto the table into the small puddle that had already formed.

That’s alright. Tom wasn’t hungry anymore, anyways.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked.

Oh, right. The family was still worried—concerned—about him, as if he hadn’t murdered and kidnapped and hurt any of the people they care about.

“Sorry, yes. I’m alright,” Tom lied, and hated himself a bit more for it. “I was just lost in my thoughts.”

From the gleam in Harry’s eyes, Tom knew Harry could tell he was lying, but luckily, he didn’t call him out on it. Instead, the god only waved his hand (still a completely unnecessary motion) and the mess disappeared. Tom moved his hand a bit, thankful the stickiness had vanished as well.

It seemed the others were close to finishing their cones too, with Sirius completely finished and Danny and Harry down to the bottom part of their cones.

For a moment, Sirius seemed like he still wanted to be concerned (and not furious, like he should be) about whatever had happened, but understood enough to move onto a new subject.

“What’s going to happen after we get the last horcrux?” Sirius asked, looking only curious, like he doesn’t have a perfectly good reason to be angry, upset, mad, livid. Like he doesn’t mind they just discussed how his brother died.

Instead of getting lost in his thoughts again, Tom focused on answering instead, though he was unable to keep all of the tiredness from entering his voice. “I’ll take them back to the manor and reabsorb them. It’ll probably take a couple of days though, since I’ll most likely pass out from the pain again. I’m not exactly sure how long it’ll last this time actually, since it gets worse every time, and these are the last two.”

Sirius only gives him a look of horror, and Tom gives him a wary look in return. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

“It hurts so much you pass out from the pain?” Sirius asked in only a whisper.

“Uh, yes? I mean, not right away. Usually I’m awake for a few hours before I eventually pass out,” Tom replied, unsure what Harry’s godfather was trying to get at.

When Sirius didn’t answer, only continuing the look of distress, if not increasing, Tom decided to continue. He assumed that Sirius wanted to hear of his pain—after all the pain he’d caused him and his brother—and figured what he said wasn’t good enough. “Rest assured, I am aware I deserve every bit of pain it causes, and more. Making the horcruxes was my decision in the first place, and I understand that every bit of the pain they cause me is fully justified.”

Sirius’ look of horror only increased even more, making Tom shift in his seat subconsciously. For a moment, Tom wondered if he should continue again, but Sirius spoke first, barely more than a silent breath.

“You think.. You think you deserve to be in pain.”

“Well, yes. Why wouldn’t I?” Tom gave Sirius a confused look; was that a trick question?

Before Sirius could answer, if he was even going to, Danny nudged Tom’s arm, pulling him closer to whisper something into his ear. Tom let himself be pulled over, giving Danny his attention.

Danny leaned in closer, cupping his hands around them so only Tom could hear (the first childish behavior he’s seen Danny do). “Uncle Siri is worried about you.”

Despite their efforts, Sirius, with dog-enhanced hearing, heard anyways. “Hell yeah I’m worried about you!” He slammed his hands on the table, but nobody else in the shop looked over. Harry had probably placed a silencing charm around their table earlier. “I miss my brother, yeah, but that’s no reason for you to be bloody tortured. He was a big kid; he made his own decisions, and I respect that. And sure, you made some mistakes in the past, but you’re trying to move past them, yeah? So I’m not gonna hold it against you, and you shouldn’t either. Small Prongs, do you have-”

Sirius turned his head towards Harry, who was already holding out a vial of sparkly purple liquid to Tom. “Take it before you start reabsorbing them. It might not help a whole bunch, but you can’t really mess with the process of reabsorbing horcruxes, unless you want a whole bunch of bad things to happen.”

“Like what?” Danny asked.

Harry looked thoughtful for a second. “Well, there’s the chance it won’t work, and all your efforts will have been wasted. There may also be a possibility that the horcrux gains sentience and decides it doesn’t like you anymore and decides to be its own person, where when they join back in you again, your soul is split between the two and you start having some sort of split personality as one side takes control over the other at random points.”

“That’s oddly specific,” Sirius noted.

Tom banged his head against the table. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Oh, I am.”

Tom snatched the vial out of Harry’s hand with a glare. “You are the worst child.”

Harry only laughed, and Sirius and Danny soon joined in after seeing Tom’s expression.

. . . . .

Afterwards, the group headed over to Grimmauld Place and grabbed the locket (the real one) with no trouble. And by no trouble, Harry meant with as much difficulty as he thought there would be.

Kreacher had a fit letting in the “blood-traitors”, and even if he was bound to follow Sirius’ orders, he still made everything harder than it needed to be. That was, until Kreacher saw Tom, and assumed that Tom had convinced Sirius to join his Death Eaters. Once Tom had explained he was going to destroy the locket, Kreacher had handed it over with glee, ignoring everything Sirius was saying completely.

Sirius was muttering to himself, probably a bit louder than he’d tried for. “Can’t believe my own house elf obeys the Dark Lord better than he obeys me. Foul vermin is ecstatic to obey Tom, meanwhile won’t even get me a cup of tea without poisoning it seventeen different ways-”

Harry remembered Kreacher back in his first life, how he’d actually gotten along with him alright after the war. He’d moved into Grimmauld Place and cleaned the entire place up. Kreacher had been allowed his own room too, and decorated it as he pleased. (To this day, Harry doesn’t know what he all had in his room, and Harry’s positive he still doesn’t want to know.)

But at the same time, Harry remembered how Kreacher was one of the reasons Sirius died. He knew that Kreacher hated Sirius. Kreacher had lied to Harry about Sirius being in the house, leading to him breaking into the Ministry and Sirius falling into the veil. Sirius had been his only family at that point, and he had died.

Harry shook his head clear of those thoughts; it wouldn’t do him any good to think of the past now. Especially because Harry would never let that happen.

Never again.

. . . . .

“Well, I suppose this is farewell for now,” Tom made sure he wasn’t forgetting anything—which included his book, the horcruxes, and the potion.

“Don’t push yourself,” Harry replied. “If you’re in too much pain, just wait another day; we’ll still be here when you get back.”

Tom looked unhappy at that comment, probably having planned to come back as soon as possible. “I won’t push myself.”

Harry only smiled—the same one Danny uses so often. “I’ll be waiting.”

Tom apparated away with a soft smile and a crack, and Sirius and the twins quickly followed suit, back to their own house.

. . . . .

They landed right outside the house and walked straight in, never even pausing in their animated discussion about different types of Patronuses, such as if a dementor could possibly be one. (Harry had told them no, it was not possible, because Patronuses represented happy thoughts and dementors represented fear, complete opposites on the feelings spectrum.) Or if it was possible to have a specific person as a Patronus, which Harry said is possible, but rare, and also absolutely terrifying, because just imagine a person you knew popping out when you cast the spell.

However, their discussing was quickly interrupted when they noticed guests in the living room, already seated with tea and talking to the Potter family. (For all intents and purposes, Remus and Sirius have long been considered Potters, especially considering they live with each other, and how close their friendship is.)

And boy weren’t they glad that Tom had left only moments before.

Lily noticed the twins and Sirius standing in the doorway and ushered them over, though Harry could easily tell her enthusiasm was faked. “Harry, Danny, come say hi to Severus and Professor Dumbledore.”

While the twins, now attached at the hip, walked towards their mother, Dumbledore was quietly correcting Lily on him being a Headmaster, compared to a Professor. To which she replied that her kids weren’t in school yet, so that doesn’t apply to them.

The twins climbed up on the couch next to Lily and James, while Sirius went to sit next to Remus. Harry sat with a regal posture, eyes cold and calculating as to what Snape and Dumbledore could possibly want this time (though it wasn’t hard to guess).

He saw Dumbledore’s smile waver for a second as they met eyes, obviously upset he wasn’t able to look into the Harry’s mind. Snape’s sneer had never left, even in the presence of his “beloved” Lily.

Dumbledore started the conversation, his grandfatherly smile back in place, as if it had never left. Harry felt Danny shift closer, subtly grabbing his brother’s hand, which Harry gladly accepted. “Harry, Danny, my boys, it is nice to see you two again. You too, Mr. Black.”

“Why did you come over?” Sirius asked, somehow not accusing in the slightest. “Usually you ask us to meet you at Hogwarts.”

“The Headmaster is a busy person, Black,” Snape ridiculed. “He doesn’t have time to cater to your every whim.”

Sirius looked ready to rip his throat out already, but to Harry’s surprise, Sirius only glanced over at Harry, as if asking for permission. (For what, Harry didn’t know. Or perhaps he did.) When Harry shook his head minutely, Sirius immediately backed off, much to the surprise of the people who had noticed—Harry, Danny, and Remus.

Snape looked put off that Sirius hadn’t fallen for his taunt, like he was actually hoping to argue, as if he knew Dumbledore would take his side.

Dumbledore pretended that Snape had never spoken, instead answering Sirius’ question. “Yes, but I felt this conversation was much too important to put off for long. We’ve come across some information, and..” He let the sentence trail off, obviously waiting for the inevitable-

“What? What’s happened?” From a vaguely concerned James.

(Even with Dumbledore saying he had important news, none of his family were actually worried, Harry noticed. Just upset that Dumbledore had decided to grace them with his presence unexpectedly.)

(Harry spent the next few minutes creating memes in his mind about how Voldemort was more welcome in their house than Dumbledore.)

“We believe that Voldemort is dead.”

Harry could feel his family’s confusion radiating off of them. They just saw Tom only fifteen minutes ago.

“That’s..” Lily pretended her confusion to be disbelief. “That’s quite a big statement. What proof do you have?”

“You do not accept Dumbledore’s word as it is?” Snape scoffed, as if he knew better.

“My children’s lives are at risk; I have plenty of reason to want proof,” Lily replied coolly.

Dumbledore lifted a hand to quiet them down as if they were rowdy children. “Now, now. I understand your concerns, Mrs. Potter, but do not worry; I have proof. But, perhaps, the children would like to leave for this?”

The entire family took a minute to recover from that. In the end, Harry was the one who finally spoke. “You want us to leave?”

Dumbledore looked like he was trying to decide how to answer that wouldn’t upset the children. “I believe it would be safer, yes. I do not wish to burden children with potentially upsetting information.”

Those are a lot of big words to a supposed eight year old. Luckily, neither Harry nor Danny were normal kids. Dumbledore looked over to Lily and James, as if expecting them to tell their kids to leave.

“Potentially upsetting information?” Harry repeated. “Have you forgotten I spent two entire years in Voldemort’s presence, and I’ve come out perfectly fine, as you’ve checked many times in the past.”

Dumbledore grimaced, but covered it up quickly. “I have not forgotten, but I would rather not bring up bad memories. The past should stay in the past, I’ve learned.”

Harry had to keep himself from squinting at the old man. He’s not sure if he succeeded.

“Your child is unruly, Potter, not listening when you tell him to do something.” Snape gave Harry a disgusted sneer, which sent Harry vivid flashbacks of “there’s no need to call me Sir, Professor”-

James spoke calmly, like nothing Snape could do would phase him. “We never told the kiddos to leave. I, for one, think that they should stay. Harry’s the one who got kidnapped, after all. I don’t think it’d be right to leave him out of the conversation.” Lily agreed with a determined nod.

“He is just trying to butt into a conversation he has no need to hear. Nothing but childish behavior,” Snape retorted.

Across the room, Harry saw Sirius and Remus release a sigh at the exact same time. Dumbledore wasn’t even trying to stop Snape from antagonizing the Potters. In fact, he only seemed to agree with Snape’s statement, which really did them no favors at this point.

Harry instead addressed Dumbledore. “Are you going to tell us or not? Mommy promised to teach me and Danny how to make a potion today.” He took on a bit more childish speaking pattern; it wouldn’t do to get them too suspicious of him. (Dumbledore always seemed to let his guard down a bit more when Harry acted childish.) Though, after Voldemort ‘kidnapped’ him, Harry has been able to get away with acting quite a bit older. They probably believe that Voldemort had forced him to mature quicker than normal, and Harry never refuted the claim.

“I really feel it would be best if the children left the room,” Dumbledore only answered.

Harry couldn’t suppress a sigh as he gave Dumbledore his best deadpan glare. “Snape’s Dark Mark suddenly faded, am I right?”

Harry watched the moment the pieces clicked together in his family’s minds as they realized what must have happened.

Snape, on the other hand, had a growing furious look adorning his face, changing his sneer into a vicious snarl. “You speak of things you know nothing of-"

Harry could only raise an eyebrow. “Voldemort kidnapped me for two years. Somehow, the bastard found out I speak Parseltongue and decided to kidnap me at only a year old to find out why I speak it; you do not get to tell me that I know nothing of the Dark Marks and how they work. The only way they would ever fade is if Voldemort died, or if he decided to release his main hold of magic over the Death Eaters. And guess how likely that second option is? And you have the audacity to claim that I know nothing.” His voice had reached a scathing tone, holding little of his festering hatred for Snape back, who had ridiculed and mocked many of his friends until the day he died, all because Lily married somebody she was willing to give up her life for. Because Snape couldn’t take “no” as an answer, after he called her a mudblood.

In Harry’s opinion, Snape is nothing more than an overgrown, petulant child.

“Now, Harry,” Dumbledore started, “You should show Professor Snape some respect-”

“I will show respect where respect is due.”

Dumbledore only shook his head and sighed, as if dealing with Harry’s ‘tantrum’ was giving him a headache. “Oh dear, I knew something like this would happen.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, wondering exactly what the old coot meant by that. Next to him, Danny did the same.

“What do you mean?” James frowned. Nobody insults his children and gets away with it-

Looking over, the entire family was frowning.

Dumbledore continued on, as if he didn’t notice the upset looks on everyone’s faces. “Harry was correct when he said that Professor Snape’s Dark Mark had faded. He is my personal spy for watching Voldemort. I’d hoped to keep it a secret from the children, because they have a tendency to tell people everything without a thought for consequences, and I did not want Professor Snape to deal with the backlash of Harry or Danny telling the wrong person.”

‘He would deserve it,’ was the thought that crossed every one of the Potter’s minds at that moment. They all knew that Snape had become a Death Eater long before he became a spy for Dumbledore, and Harry would tell them exactly why later.

Instead, Remus spoke for the first time. “You don’t think the kids can keep a secret?”

Dumbledore’s smile told them exactly what he thought.

Remus’ voice took on a bit darker tone. “The kids have known I’m a werewolf since they were born, and they’ve never told a single soul.”

Again, Dumbledore only smiled, as if he knew better. “I believe this brings up the point I originally came for.”

“.. Which is..?” Lily asked, after he never continued.

“Harry and Danny have been in hiding their whole life, and because of that, they’ve grown up only knowing each other. It is obvious they don’t know how to socialize with others, so I believe it would be best if they got to know other children their age. As such, I’ve taken the liberty of setting up a ‘play-date’, of sorts, with another magical family.”

“You what?!” Sirius stressed. “Okay, lemme get this straight.” He took a quick, calming breath. “Snape’s Dark Mark faded when?”

“This morning, around eleven.” Dumbledore answered dutifully.

“Okay, so Snape’s Dark Mark faded at eleven. And you immediately assumed that Mr. Evil-snake-face dude is dead because of it, after telling us how scared he is of dying. So, Moldyshort somehow randomly died this morning, for no discernible reason, and the first thing you do is make a play-date for the kiddos, without even making sure he’s dead?!”

“We’re quite sure he’s dead. Why else would the Dark Mark fade?” Dumbledore replied, the grandfather twinkle in his eyes.

“So you set up a play-date for the kids. So they can make friends,” James stated bluntly.

The twins gasping brought the adults out of their conversation. They looked excited, hugging each other even closer, no longer being subtle.

“A play-date!” Danny exclaimed.

“We’re gonna get to meet other kids, and we’re gonna make lots of friends!” Harry told his brother, who nodded his head.

“Yeah!” Danny turned to Lily. “Please, Mommy, can we please have a play-date with the other kids? Pleaaaaaase??”

“Pretty please with Daddy’s caramel fudge ice cream on top?”

Dumbledore looked exasperated with the twins, smiling and shaking his head. They could almost hear the ‘kids will be kids’ coming from his mind. Snape, on the other hand, only grimaced. He’s never liked children.

(He should’ve never been a teacher-)

The Potters looked bewildered for a moment, never having expected the twins to actually act their age, but they fell into their roles easy enough.

Lily smiled. “Of course you guys can have a play-date. I think it’s a wonderful idea for you two to make new friends. Isn’t that right, dear?”

“I think it’s an absolutely terrific idea! So, who and where?” James didn’t even make a deer pun. James didn’t make a deer pun.

That’s when their family knew it was serious.

(Not that it wasn’t before.)

Dumbledore looked happy that his plans were finally going his way. “I thought Harry and Danny might like the idea, so I asked the Weasleys if they would like to come over tomorrow.”

“Here?” Lily clarified.

“Yes. You must understand, their household is quite full. I believe Mrs. Weasley said she was bringing her youngest four; she couldn’t leave Ginerva home alone.” Dumbledore explained. “Ronald is the same age as the twins, so I’m sure they will get along.” He started to address the twins, who were still holding each other in a half hug. “And did you know that Mrs. Weasley has her own set of twins? They’re a couple years older, but I have a feeling you all will get along great.”

Harry had a look of wonder across his face. “She has twins too?! Danny, we’re gonna meet more twins!”

“More twins! More twins!” Danny chanted.

“Well, that is all I wished to speak of.” Dumbledore stood up suddenly, and Snape followed. “I wish you all the best of luck with your play-date tomorrow. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Professor Snape and I have much to attend to.”

With that, they used the floo back to Hogwarts, rattling a couple pictures hanging on the wall above the fireplace, without so much as a goodbye.

And good riddance.

Chapter Text

Not even a moment after Dumbledore and Snape leave, their parents round on the twins, eyes blazing with unasked questions.

“If we didn’t agree to what he already had planned,” Harry sighed, “he would’ve kept going until we couldn’t get out of it. You say no, and he tries something else.”

“He wouldn’t have left until we agreed. He’d already made the play-date before he’d come over,” Danny added.

Lily sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.” She turned to address Harry instead, knowing that what Dumbledore did is done and over with. “So, opinions on the Weasleys?”

Harry thought back to his first life, best friends with Ron until the day he died. He took on a melancholy smile. “They were.. my family, at one point.”

Lily knew that wasn’t the end of the story. “And now?”

“And now they’re strangers,” Harry replied, voice carefully monotone. “Dumbledore trusts the Weasleys; he probably thinks that if we make friends with a light family, there’s less of a chance Danny and I will go dark.”

“He’s suspicious of when you got kidnapped by Voldemort,” Remus voiced, already knowing it was fact before he said it.

Harry nodded. “I was close with the Weasleys, especially Ron—he was my best friend our entire lives. But,” He looked away, “I can’t do it again. I just can’t. He’s not my Ron.”

The Potters exchanged glances. Harry’s thoughts were heading into dangerous territory again.

“What about Mrs. Weasley?” James tried next, steering the conversation away from where it was going.

Harry glanced over, snapping out of his thoughts, like he hadn’t even noticed he was spiraling into depression again. “Mrs. Weasley? She mocked Sirius for being locked up in Azkaban.”

The entire family lurched.

How DARE she.

Harry continued on, not even noticing. “She’s an overbearing mother, to put it simply. Adopts kids whether they want it or not, then gets upset when they don’t like how she does things. It took her years to stop trying to force Ginny and I to get married, despite the fact we were closer to siblings.” He paused for a minute. “That’s what happened with Sirius. She claimed that I was her kid, and Siri told her she was wrong. That I was James and Lily’s kid. His kid. She retorted by saying that I was as good as her kid, because he wasn’t there for my childhood, because he was in Azkaban.”

(nonononono you don’t get it- Harry is my kid- Harry is James and Lily’s; Harry is our kid- He’s my kid- not yours not yours notyoursnotyoursnotyours- Harry is my kid-)

The entire house was dead silent. How were they supposed to reply to finding out exactly what Harry’s first life was like.

Finally, Sirius broke it, after almost two entire minutes. He licked his lips; they’d suddenly gone dry, along with his throat. “How… Why was I in Azkaban?”

Harry had zoned out again without noticing. It was happening more and more recently. He didn’t even seem to notice. “Peter Pettigrew framed you for murdering a bunch of muggles. After Voldemort killed James and Lily on the night of Halloween, you went after Pettigrew in a fit of rage, too overcome with grief to do much else. He was the secret keeper, as you know, and one of the reasons for my parents’ deaths. Snape was another.”

James choked on a sob. The rest of the family wasn’t faring much better.

How had everything gone so wrong in that life? Why does he always look so sad?

“One day.” Harry seemed lost in his memories, but still entirely too present. “One day, I’ll tell you all about my first life. Everything. But right now, I can’t- I just can’t. But.. even still.. I ask you to trust me, because I’m selfish.”

Remus spoke up with a soft voice—calm and comforting, but also concerned. Almost.. worried. “Harry, I don’t mean this to sound demeaning, but… are you okay?”

The room was quiet. Harry took the question seriously, and tried to answer as honestly as he could.

“No.” He shook his head. “But.. I will be. Eventually.”

Why did Harry look so doubtful of that last word ?

. . . . .

Danny stood off to the side, where he feels most comfortable. Most people would think that Danny was jealous of the attention Harry would always get, but it couldn’t be farther from the truth. He hates being put in the spotlight, while he understands that Harry thrives from the attention, like he’s not used to it.

Danny knows he isn’t. Harry has told him stories of his other lives, where he’d spend years and years and years alone, watching civilizations being built to the time they crumble. Watching universes being created by unknown forces till their inevitable collapse. Watching everybody he ever knew die eventually, no matter how long they lived.

Harry likes the attention because it keeps his mind off of other things. It staves off the depression of immortality. It gives him another reason to be alive, for his long life to mean something.

Danny, on the other hand, likes to watch from the sidelines. He likes watching everybody interact with each other. He does not, however, like having to interact with people himself. Danny doesn’t mind it with his family, because he knows them. They don’t make him talk when he doesn’t want to. Tom is the exception to the family rule, because Tom, in the end, is there for Harry, and only Harry. He loves Harry just as much as Danny does, even if he hasn’t realized it yet. (And Danny wonders just how long it will take for him to notice.) Tom wants Harry’s attention, and he doesn’t mind giving Danny space, even if he’s apparently the ‘chosen one’ from the prophecy.

And Harry. Harry, wonderful Harry. Danny loves his brother so much. He knows he’s not good at expressing his feelings sometimes, but he knows that Harry understands anyways. Harry knows Danny prefers listening, so he tells such wonderful stories that always leave Danny wanting more. He doesn’t mind when Danny doesn’t talk, because they can communicate without words. It’s so easy to talk and interact with Harry, because he’s Harry.

Which explains why Danny couldn’t stop the sickening dread pooling in his stomach.

The Weasleys were due to come over any minute now, and Danny’s mind has been screaming ‘bad bad BAD-” for almost an hour. Inviting the Weasleys over made Danny realize that he has no clue how to interact with people. Harry’s the one who can always make friends. Danny, on the other hand, cannot. He can’t he can’t he can’t-

He doesn’t know how to talk to people, much less kids his age. (And Merlin, doesn’t Danny hate proving Dumbledore right-) Danny doesn’t know what Harry is going to do. He simultaneously wants to hide in a corner and cling to Harry, who will no doubt have all the kids and adults’ attention.

(Harry’s told him stories of a wonderful boy named Ron who helped him take down a Dark Lord, of twins who made chaos their element, of a fiery spirited young girl who lived her first year of Hogwarts in a nightmare-)

Danny is snapped out of his thoughts by a rapturous knock on the door. His mom answered it a second later, plastering a fake smile in the face of Mrs. Weasley (never forgive never forgive-).

Her kids come bounding in, ready to explore a new place with a childlike excitement Danny had never really felt. They all have the same shade of red hair, and he immediately noticed that it’s a very different shade from his and Mom’s. And for some reason, he’s very glad about that fact.

And just like he’d never left, Harry slid into the seat next to Danny, squishing their bodies together. Of course Harry would know what Danny is feeling, and Danny is left feeling infinitely grateful to his brother.

The youngest—Ginny—met Harry’s gaze and froze, and Danny remembered that Ginny saw Harry as a fairy tale prince in her first life, and it doesn’t look like much has changed. She looked like she didn’t even realize she was frozen and staring at him, and then she suddenly sprinted back to her mom to bury her face in Mrs. Weasley’s clothes.

Danny overhears Mrs. Weasley laughing a bit and explaining Ginny’s crush on Harry to his mom, who also does a small (fake-) laugh, but at this point his attention is diverted.

Ron had made his way to the twins, already babbling and introducing himself to them. He starts bragging about certain accomplishments he’s made, along with asking Harry a bunch of fairly invasive questions about his time with Voldemort.

But Danny’s attention wasn’t on him either.

The twins—The Weasley twins—were frozen in place, the same as Ginny had been, but.. the Weasley twins didn’t have a crush on Harry, did they? Because they were both staring at Harry with the same wide-eyed expression that Harry was giving them in return, and Danny has no idea why.

And then, in the softest voice, yet still somehow easily heard over Ron, Harry smiled, “Gred, Forge.”

Ron stopped talking, squinting back at the twins behind him. He doesn’t know why Harry is so special, other than what everybody else knows. He doesn’t know that Harry has past memories of everybody in the room, and doesn’t understand how Harry already knows the Weasley twins, despite them never having met.

The twins, on the other hand, stalked forward, matching mischievous grins adorning their faces, until they were in front of Harry and Danny. Ron was standing next to them with poorly hidden bewilderment.

“Why, if it isn’t little Harry-kins!”

“You wouldn’t happen to know what the first prank we ever played was?”

“It was truly a wonderful prank.”

“Got us grounded for months!”

“Or maybe only a week.”

Harry answered with a soft smile and a softer voice, “You pretended to switch bodies.”

Before the twins could reply, whether that was the right answer or not, Harry continued in a greatly amused voice. “In fact, you’re still doing the same prank to this moment. It will be your first, and your last. But sadly, it will never work on me.”

The Weasley twins froze for a moment, before the widest grins appeared on their faces, an exact mirror of each other.

(Danny doesn’t know what to think of how similar they act, and decides he’s rather content with Harry and him not doing that.)

The Weasley twins did a mock bow, “We’re at your service, oh great Harry Potter.”

Ron, in the meantime, looked to be a mix of jealous and confused, because he hates that his older brothers are stealing all the attention again, but he also knows that the twins don’t listen to anyone or anything, and even Harry Potter wouldn’t be the exception to that rule.

And Harry only smiled again, “I’ll hold you to that, Mischief Twins of mine.”

The Weasley twins perk up at the nickname. “Mischief Twins-”

“That’s so much better than Weasley twins!”

“From now on-”

“We’ll be known as-”

“The Mischief Twins!” they both finished, matching smirks over their faces.

And then they turned back to Harry and Danny, “And what are you two?”

Danny didn’t know how to answer that, or even if he was supposed to, but Harry answered for him anyways, so everything is fine.

“We are Chaos.”

And Danny finds that he likes the sound of that.

Chaos.

The twins apparently do too, if the size of their grins is anything to go by.

“Mischief and Chaos, huh?”

“I think the four of us are going to get along just fine.”

In the background, Danny heard Mrs. Weasley sigh in exasperation. “I should’ve known the twins would take a liking to your kids. They better not be filling little Harry and Danny’s mind with terrible prank ideas!”

He heard his mother laugh, but it sounded fake. “Oh, I’m sure they’ll be fine. James and his friends used to be quite the pranksters, after all. Just give it time; they’ll grow up.”

Danny thought of the prank his dad had played only last week—swapping Sirius’ conditioner for whipped cream to see if he’d notice. He did.

Then he remembered all the pranks Harry used to play on Tom back when he was Voldemort, and then the chocolate milk incident only yesterday.

Pranks are never lacking in the Potter house.

“Speaking of that, where is your husband?” Mrs. Weasley asked. She shifted Ginny in her arms, who had fallen asleep after only a few minutes—probably from being so wound up about meeting the Harry Potter.

“Oh, he’s out with his friends. They’re enjoying their newfound freedom,” his mother lied, like they all hadn’t left the house multiple times every week while in hiding.

Mrs. Weasley perked up with an idea, “Oh, you know, if you ever need somebody to watch over your twins while you’re away, feel free to owl me! I have so many kids at home already, what’s two more? And Danny and Harry are so nicely behaved, my younger ones could take some lessons from them!”

His mother hid her grimace behind a smile. “I think we’ll be okay, actually. James and I have a system, and the twins are very independent already. They know how to take care of themselves. There was one time, I believe, when I came home and Danny had already started making dinner, following the recipe perfectly-”

Danny tuned back out of the conversation, realizing his mother was just trying to distract Mrs. Weasley for a while, so she wouldn’t focus on the kids.

Harry and the Mischief Twins were animatedly discussing the use of charms on certain objects and possible prank ideas for different occasions. Ron was trying to keep up with the conversation, but it was obvious he had no idea what any of them were talking about. Harry would glance at him every once in a while, and he would pause for a moment, as if reminding himself that this was not the Ron from his first life.

‘I can’t do it again. I just can’t. He’s not my Ron.’

Danny made up his mind. He would try to be friends with Ron—who Harry had loved so dearly back in his first life.

He nudged Ron on the shoulder, and waited for him to turn around before asking, “Would you like to play a game of chess?”

Ron’s face lit up in glee.

. . . . .

Harry glanced over to Danny and Ron, who had started a game of chess together. He could see the calculations running through their heads, as if working out a complex puzzle where there’s hundreds of solutions. Even as a kid, Ron had always been extremely good at chess, and Danny is a master of analytical situations.

Feelings, however, not so much.

He turned back towards the twins with a sly grin on his face. “How would you like to see the products of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, the best magical prank store in Britain, owned by Fred and George Weasley?”

“Would we ever!” George exclaimed.

Fred was only slightly more hesitant, “But why would you show us?”

Harry pulled out some of the products from their future shop from a portal he’d created, and handed them over. The twins took the items, cradling them gently in their arms, looking at each other with awe and amazement. They recognized their own work, obviously.

“Because I want you to be able to create something even better.”

. . . . .

The Weasleys eventually had to leave; they couldn’t stay over forever, despite Mrs. Weasley’s best attempts, what with their own family back home.

And so, with a sigh of relief, the Potters had the house back to themselves.

Lily collapsed onto the couch next to her kids. “That was exhausting. How did you ever put up with Molly in your first life?”

“Ehhh, she kinda forced herself onto me, really. I met the Weasleys while trying to find Platform 9 ¾—she was yelling out where it was as loud as possible in front of a bunch of muggles. Then made Ron sit with me on the train.”

Lily scrunched her eyebrows. “That’s.. That’s strange. She went to Hogwarts with me. Well, a few years ahead, but she still went there. And it tells you where the Platform is in your letter.”

Harry shrugged. “My entire first life was set up. All the way until the day I was supposed to die, and even past that, really. I’m almost impressed by the effort it took to coordinate it all, except for the fact that it was my life they were coordinating.”

“I’m honestly scared to hear what all happened in your first life,” Lily mumbled.

“Don’t worry—I’ve prevented most everything really bad from happening. Tom’s not out to kill me, Sirius isn’t in Azkaban, don’t have the scar, not at the Dursleys, and, of course, I’m aware of all Dumbledore’s manipulations,” Harry listed off.

“That was not reassuring at all.”

Harry turned towards his brother, hesitating. “And.. Danny.. You don’t- You don’t have to force yourself to be friends with Ron. Just because I used to be friends with him doesn’t mean you need to.”

Danny shook his head softly. “No. I’m- I’m not good with people. Not like you. But..” He glanced down, then back up with determination in his eyes. “I would like to make a friend. And.. I like Ron.”

Harry paused for a moment, something undecipherable in his eyes. And then he smiled. “Ron is a very loyal friend. He has his ups and downs, but I can’t hold them against him. And especially this Ron, who I’ve never met.”

Danny nodded. He got that feeling too, from hanging out with Ron.

Harry pulled his brother into a hug, murmuring softly in his ear, “I’m proud of you, Danny. I’m glad you want to make friends.”

Danny squeezed his brother back, clutching onto his shirt.

. . . . .

A deafening crash resonated through the house, jolting all of the residents into consciousness.

The adults brandished their wands, wondering who would dare break into the Potter home in the middle of the night, and how they had gotten past the wards. Was it Death Eaters? Or perhaps someone else.

A couple more loud clatters echo down the hall—whoever was trying to break in wasn’t very stealthy.

Lily listened for more noises from around the corner, tensed and ready for a fight. James, Sirius, and Remus all stood behind her, waiting for her signal to move forward or stay quiet. They were trained for situations like this, and fell back on that training easily, even after years without practice.

The kids would be safe; of that, Lily was sure. Harry would protect Danny from any danger that came their way, just like he’d done against Voldemort.

She strained her ears to hear, not yet willing to risk glancing around the corner. The moonlight was beautiful and bright tonight, making the house glow with soft rays of light. On any other night, it would have made for a calming night, full of peaceful dreams and pleasant mornings, but the moonlight was now a curse. They could see, yes, but so could the intruders.

Soft murmuring could be heard from around the corner, next to the front door. Lily held her hand up, letting the others know the intruders were there, but to wait.

She cast a silent spell to increase her hearing, promising to thank Harry for teaching her the spell tomorrow. Even with the spell, the murmurs only barely became loud enough to hear, but it was enough.

“- I’m sorry please don’t send me away please don’t leave me alone I’ll leave tomorrow I promise but I don’t like being alone please don’t leave-”

.. Was that.. Tom’s voice?

Lily listened for a few more seconds, until the sound of his apologies died out.

And then a second voice, this one much more recognizable—softer, kind, soothing. “You’ll be okay. I’m not leaving. I’ll stay as long as you want.”

Harry.

Lily dropped her arm, untensing her body almost mechanically. The adrenaline was still coursing through her veins, but it was leaving as fast as it came, and it left her feeling more tired than she’d been in a long time.

She signaled for false alarm, already walking back to her room. The three boys looked half concerned and half bewildered, but followed her back to the rooms without a single hesitation.

Lily put up a silencing ward—not to keep others from hearing, but to give Tom and Harry the privacy they probably wanted. James, Sirius, and Remus waited for her explanation, still half-tense for a fight and having no clue what to expect.

“Tom came over.”

It was simple, yet still explained enough for understanding to dawn in each of their eyes.

“Come on guys, let’s give them their privacy,” James muttered, already leading him and Lily back into their room, shutting the door behind them.

Sirius and Remus nodded unnecessarily, each going back to their separate rooms.

Remus entered his first, softly clicking his own door shut for the night.

And if Sirius paused to stare at Remus’ door for a minute, lost in his thoughts, well, nobody was any the wiser.

Nobody had to know.

. . . . .

Harry felt the moment the four adults left to go back to their rooms, silently thanking them for leaving Tom and him alone.

The last thing Tom wanted was to be seen by anybody else right now.

Tom was kneeling by Harry’s feet, lacking the energy to stand, holding tight fistfuls of Harry’s shirt in his shaking hands and shoving his face into Harry’s chest. His breathing was erratic, but slowly steadying as he calmed down more and more.

Harry gently petted his hair, combing his fingers through the soft curls. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here, I’m not leaving. Take your time.”

“I’m sorry for disobeying- I know you told me not to come over for a few days, and I’m sorry for creating a ruckus—it wasn’t intentional, really. And I’m sorry for being needy and selfish and clinging to you and never leaving you alone; I know you probably don’t care about my problems—I’m nothing more than a burden, I know. That’s all I’ve ever been, really, so why would this time be any different?” The self-deprecating thoughts fell from his mouth one after another, tumbling out too easily for them to be anything but his genuine thoughts.

And all Harry could think of was how he’d thought the exact same things about himself.

“.. Tom, you don’t have to apologize for that. I like being with you; you’re my friend.”

“I appreciate you trying to lie for my sake but it’s not necessary, really. You only said that out of pity.”

He shifted into a sitting position, slumping even further. Harry joined him on the ground, pressing his body even closer to Tom’s, until he was practically sitting in his lap. Tom greedily accepted every piece of physical contact that Harry gave him, squeezing him a bit closer with still-shaky hands.

Harry wasn’t surprised Tom was so desperate to cuddle; he’d just reabsorbed two of his horcruxes—one of which contained an entire quarter of his soul—so it was no surprise that his feelings and emotions were a jumbled mess. Tom had a complete soul for the first time in decades, and the healing process is always the most painful part.

Reabsorbing horcruxes hurt, yes, but nothing was more painful than the wave of guilt that came afterwards.

It was honestly a miracle that Tom was even conscious right now, much less talking and moving.

What did surprise Harry, though, was how Tom had chosen him to come to. Sure, there weren’t many other people Tom would ever even consider, but.. Harry thought he’d just tough it out alone.

Voldemort had always thought that emotions were nothing but a weakness to overcome.

Harry needed to learn to stop comparing the two.

“I don’t understand why you even let me near you,” Tom whispered. “Why do you allow me to speak as if we’re friends? How do you let me touch you so freely without feeling anything but disgust.”

Contrary to his words, Tom held Harry just a bit tighter, as if afraid he’d disappear the second he let go. That now Harry would realize his mistake and would leave again, leaving Tom alone to drown in his own thoughts.

“Tom, look at me,” Harry ordered. He waited until Tom’s red met his own vivid green, and Harry hadn’t noticed how utterly tired Tom looked. Like it’d been there all along, and he’s only just now noticing the full extent. “Stay-” He paused, the words on the tip of his tongue, gathering the courage to say them out loud. “.. Stay with me. Until the moment you find something you love more than my magic—until you want to leave of your own free will. Stay with me until then—when you find something even better.”

“Is that an order?”

Doubt crept in. “.. Only if you want it to be.”

“Your wish is my command, Master,” Tom hummed, resting his head against the boy in his lap.

Harry gently lead Tom’s hands away from the hug, slowly making to stand up. Tom immediately let go of Harry—no matter how desperately he wanted to hold on and never leave, he knew that it was Harry’s choice whether to stay or not.

It had always been Harry’s choice.

Tom braced himself for rejection—being told to go back home now that he’d calmed down. His hands were shaking again, but he gripped his pants tight enough that perhaps Harry wouldn’t notice. It’s not his place to stay if Harry wanted him to leave, after all.

Instead, when Harry stood, he turned around to again face Tom, still sitting on the floor in a pathetic display of humiliation and self-loathing. He held out his hand, and it took far too long for Tom to realize he was meant to grab it.

“Come with me,” Harry spoke softly, clasping their fingers together like they’d done yesterday before lunch.

Tom nodded, already starting to stand and ready to follow Harry to the ends of the Earth, if he only asked.

The walked slowly through the house, with Tom not even paying attention to where they were going. He remembered a hallway, and perhaps going up stairs, but he hadn’t cared to remember, much too lost in his own thoughts. Tom was completely entranced with Harry—how the moonlight made his eyes sparkle in the night, how warm his hand was compared to Tom’s, how he would take the human wreck that was Tom Riddle and give him another chance, even after everything he’d done.

How he was thousands upon thousands of years old and still somehow found Tom worth his time.

Harry led them into a room that Tom remembered vividly—even then, only just enough to bring him out of his depreciating thoughts.

The same room that Tom had broken into with the intent to kill Harry’s brother.

There were no posters hanging on the walls, but they were completely unnecessary, seeing as the entire room was painted a beautiful shade of dark blue, with millions of tiny specks that shimmered and sparkled softly in colors that Tom had never even imagined before. Tom remembered what Harry had said—how he absolutely loved anything and everything about space and the stars, and wondered if Harry had painted this himself.

It looked too real to be only from imagination.

There were bookshelves against parts of the walls, filled with books Tom has probably never even heard of, and even a small toy box that looked like it hadn’t been opened in a while. A small writing desk sat in the corner, stacked high with books and papers and colorful writing utensils.

There were also two matching beds, each on opposite sides of the room, both filled to the brim with fluffy blankets and pillows that one could drown in.

In one of the beds, bright red hair could be seen peeking out from under the blankets—Danny, sound asleep, for all the noise Tom must’ve made earlier. (Tom suspected that Harry had something to do with that.)

Harry sent a wistful smile towards his brother upon noticing Tom’s gaze, then gently led him over to the other bed.

Harry’s bed.

Tom blinked, unsure as ever what was going on, but readily obeyed when Harry prompted him to sit. The bed was somehow even softer than Tom had imagined it would be, and he found himself bundling all the blankets around his body. The whole house was entwined with Harry’s magic, which only became denser as he had gone further in—especially his room—only to realize Harry’s bed was absolutely drenched in his magic.

Tom had never felt more comfortable in his life, wrapped up in soft blankets and the peace of feeling like.. like he belonged.

Still, with his ever-looming doubts, he couldn’t help but to ask, “Why did you bring me in here?”

It was a cruel irony, almost, bringing him back into the room where everything had begun.

Harry continued to rummage around in a drawer for a moment, only turning to face Tom when he had found what he was looking for. He stared at Tom with that indecipherable gaze—the one where it feels like he’s staring into your very soul, trying to find an answer to questions nobody else ever thinks to ask. Straight into the core, the very culmination of his being, until there’s nothing left to hide.

And then Harry held out a bracelet. At first glance, it was nothing more than a sleek black band with a silver chain hanging off, but Tom quickly realized that wasn’t true. He gently cupped the bracelet within his hands, bringing it closer to his face. Sure enough, there were thousands, if not millions, of tiny speckles littered across the smooth surface in an array of colors.

It looked like the paint on Harry’s walls.

The accessory hanging off—it was a symbol he’d seen often enough, especially within the past couple years. Whenever Harry was near, Tom was bound to see the Deathly Hallows symbol appear soon after, no matter how coincidental it may seem. And here it was again, making an appearance on the bracelet.

The band was warm in his hands, almost as if it were alive, only causing Tom to hold it closer. He traced the surface, watching the moonlight glint off of the millions of speckles.

“What is this made from?” He’d never felt something even close to similar, and knowing Harry, it could’ve been anything.

Harry took to staring at the bracelet—at the way Tom was holding is to gently and carefully, as if he’d do anything to make sure it wouldn’t break. He answered slowly, softly, murmuring his reply like a sad melody. “A star.”

Tom realized the full impact of that answer (because it was never just a star with Harry), only for Harry to continue, voice laced with somber nostalgia of times that he would never again be a part of.

“It’s forged out of the heart of the first star I ever created,” Harry whispered with a small smile. “It was the most beautiful one I’d ever made, surely, formed from nothing but my overflowing love for space and a will of creation.”

And Tom was back to feeling like he most definitely didn’t deserve to be near Harry, to be a part of his life, when it was so obvious that Harry’s place was among the stars. Tom would forever be bound to Earth, and Harry, Harry would be off among the galaxies and universes creating stars out of nothing but his love for them.

“I cannot give you my heart as you’ve given me yours, but I can give you this,” Harry finished, still standing, waiting for Tom to make the next move.

Tom met Harry’s eyes, which looked almost fake with the way they were faintly glowing and how they were almost mechanical, taking in every bit of information around. Too calculating, too vivid, too inhuman to truly be one.

(Tom wondered if his eyes looked the same way to everybody else.)

He gestured to the bracelet, tightening his grip around the band subconsciously. “What is this supposed to be?”

Harry paused for a moment, no doubt running through every possible answer to the question and trying to choose the one he felt was the best solution.

“.. A collar, of sorts,” Harry murmured. “It would be the proof that you belong to me—that you will obey my commands. It would signify our bond with each other, as master and servant.”

Tom had clicked the bracelet on before Harry had even finished speaking. Immediately, he felt the rush of magical power contained within the band, so full of love and warmth and everything Harry that it was almost too intense to bear. Just an overwhelming sense of every positive emotion Tom had never felt, for Harry was always so much more human than he could ever be.

Tom would never be able to feel the same amount—the uncontrollable overpowering abundance—of love like Harry felt towards the stars. He didn’t even know if he could love, and didn’t that make for a sad and pitiful life.

Harry was staring at the snapped-on bracelet with a soft smile—one that could only be described as melancholy, too much sorrow to truly ignore. His eyes were vividly bright compared to the dim moonlight in the room, whispering thousands of stories that went untold otherwise.

“If.. If you ever change your mind.. If you decide that you don’t want this type of bond at all, then you only have to take the bracelet off. I will not give you commands if you do not wish to receive them. It is- a fail-safe, to make sure I am not using you without consent.”

Tom wondered if there would ever be a day where he would take it off, and dearly hoped it wouldn’t be in the near future. He was-.. For the first time Tom can ever remember, he was actually content. He liked eating dinner with the Potters; he liked it when Sirius had called him ‘family’; he liked being able to spend time with Harry.

Tom would do almost anything to avoid ever having to take off the bracelet.

“You will always have my consent,” Tom replied softly. “I do not believe you truly understand how much I do not mind—how much I like—this type of bond.”

Harry only looked confused. “Why?”

And that was the question, wasn’t it? Why did he desire a connection that left him as nothing more than a slave? Why would he give up everything he’s worked for his whole life just to place himself beneath another?

It was really quite simple, once he thought about it.

“I have a reason to always be near you now,” Tom smiled, sounding entirely too fond for his own good. “If I mess up- When I mess up, you won’t just.. leave again.”

‘Tom, did you forget our deal?’

“You’d be able to punish me as much as you want—I would not complain—, but you wouldn’t leave.”

‘I will be leaving, and taking Sirius with me.’

“I wouldn’t be left behind with my own thoughts and feelings, only making even more mistakes.”

‘ I know you’re probably glad to get rid of me, anyways. I was nothing but a bother to you.’

Tom took a deep breath, folding his hands on his lap so maybe Harry wouldn’t notice them shaking again. “I’m- I’m going to mess up again. I will. But.. I don’t want you to hate me because of my mistakes. I don’t. I only ever seem to make bad decisions—it seems to be my only talent, really, making the wrong choice for every little thing—so I just.. I just want you to make all the decisions for a while. I trust you. I trust you so much more than I’ve ever trusted myself.”

Harry didn’t say anything, but he smiled again, and this time it was much more genuine than any of his others had been tonight.

Tom suddenly wondered, then, if Harry had been waiting for the true reason all along. Like he’d known the other reasons he’d spoken hadn’t been the full truth, and was only happy that Tom had shared that reason with him.

Harry finally moved, silent steps towards the bed Tom was still sitting on, bundled within the layers of blankets. Without waiting for Tom to stand up, or even move, Harry climbed into his bed next to Tom, crawling under his own blankets. Tom could feel the warmth of Harry’s body heat against his own, still somehow impossibly warmer than being buried beneath multiple blankets.

Harry reached up to comb through Tom’s hair once more, leaning in close to murmur a soft, “Sleep.”

And Tom was exhausted; of that, there was no doubt. He’d only just fixed his soul—it had taken hours for the pain to recede enough for him to even consider sleeping, or perhaps he’d passed out from the pain. It was impossible to tell, really.

Tom had a feeling that if he hadn’t taken the potion Harry had given him, the healing process would’ve taken days instead of just hours. He’s also fairly sure that potion is the only reason he was still able to move and talk—why he was still awake in the first place, when he’d be unconscious for days otherwise. Why he was able to come see Harry.

They laid down together, and Tom felt it necessary to give all the blankets he’d otherwise stolen back, only for Harry to magically bundle them both under them equally. They stared at each other for a few moments, exchanging a mutual ‘goodnight’ without words.

Tom closed his eyes, focusing on the soft sound of Harry’s breathing. His last thoughts were of how Harry’s place may be among the stars (so vivid and full of love), but Tom’s place—his place was next to Harry, in whatever capacity that Harry would have him.

Tom drifted off, lulled to sleep by the warmth of finally having somewhere that he.. belonged.

. . . . .

Come morning time, Tom would wake up feeling more rested than he had in years. The sun would be sending rays of light through the window, replacing the moonlight of the night before. Harry would be in front of him, still sleeping peacefully, and Tom would quickly realize there was another bundle of warmth at his back.

He would carefully roll over, careful not to shift the blankets around too much, only to see Danny sleeping, curled into Tom’s back, with the same peaceful expression as his brother.

Tom would pull the blankets back around his shoulders, laying back down slowly, and think of how much his life had changed for the better because of the two little twins on each side of him.

. . . . .

Come morning time, in another dimension altogether, a small group of people would be preparing a ritual. An extremely dangerous ritual to summon a being of great power—power these people hoped to control, in hopes of finally putting an end to the war.

Through their leader’s request, the group would focus on adding binding rune upon binding rune, for one could never be too careful when trying to summon the Master of Death. Some wondered if it would be better to only politely request the being’s help, for it was surely much stronger than they could ever be, but their leader insisted it was better to control.

Control, control, control.

Harry had never liked that word.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t till after breakfast when Harry felt it. The portal—the rift between dimensions—opening up in their backyard, right next to the field of beautiful wildflowers that were determined to bloom every year, even with barely any help from the family.

(Well, that wasn’t true. Once they’d started growing, Harry had started taking care of them. Of course, Danny followed not long after, and then Lily had, and then Remus, and soon enough the entire family was out there taking care of the wildflowers every once in a while.)

(Help was a strong word for James and Sirius though, who mostly just watered them by having water balloon and water gun fights weekly.)

Even approaching the chilly month of November, and subsequently Sirius’ birthday on the third, the flowers were still in full bloom with help from a small weather spell from Harry. And another one from Lily. And a tried attempt (more of accidental magic than anything) from Danny. And Remus.

Anyways, back to the portal. Harry sat up straighter on the couch, grinning wildly at the realization of what the portal meant. He was being summoned.

Tom, who was leaning against Harry, also sunk deeply into the couch and slowly flipping through the pages of the second Harry Potter book, glanced over with a raised eyebrow. The sunlight created a soft glow of the room, perfect for spending a lazy morning lounging around.

Harry’s voice was barely a whisper of excitement. “I’m being summoned.”

Next to him, Tom froze. He still somehow inched his way closer to Harry, despite the fact they were already smushed against each other. (clinging tighter don’t let go or he’ll leave forever never come back you’re not worth it-) as if afraid Harry would just disappear from right under him. His voice came out just as quiet as Harry’s had been, though not for the same reason. “You’re what?”

Harry failed to notice Tom’s growing panic. “Merlin, it’s been years since I’ve been summoned! Last time was probably, oh, sixteen thousand years ago, give or take? Right old tosser, he was, trying to use my power to take over the universe, like I’m some demon he can just bind at will. I have to admit, it was pretty funny watching him realize he did not, in fact, summon a demon.”

Through Harry’s small monologue, Tom had calmed considerably, taking note of a few important points. “So.. You can’t just be summoned by force? You won’t just disappear?”

“Huh? Oh, no,” Harry replied, finally looking over to meet Tom’s eyes, and suddenly realizing what Tom must’ve thought would happen. “Oh- Oh Merlin, no, Tom. No, nobody can force me to do anything. When I get summoned, they basically just open up a pathway between their dimension and the one I’m in. Don’t worry, I won’t be leaving any time soon. You’re stuck with me.”

Tom exhaled a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “That’s.. reassuring. And I believe you have it backwards; you’re stuck with me.”

Neither of them brought up how Tom’s arm was still tightly wrapped around Harry’s, unwilling to let go just yet. The bracelet dangled from his wrist, glinting in the sunlight.

“Would you like to come see the other side with me?” Harry asked, grinning. “We can explore a whole new dimension together.”

Tom quickly realized that the man who had last summoned Harry was right—he was, in fact, a demon. Because that was oh so terribly tempting, to accept and explore a whole new universe with Harry, but his self-preservation as kicking in at the worst possible moment, especially now that he was mortal. “Will it be dangerous?”

And Harry gave Tom a smirk—much more dangerous than any smirk Tom had ever produced—and his eyes seemed to glow with all the power he held. “I pity the fool who thinks they can harm what belongs to me.”

Tom immediately decides to ignore the sudden flips his stomach has decided to turn, along with his heartbeat, which decided to skip three and a half beats for some reason.

He barely croaks out his last attempt at an argument. “W- What about your family?”

“Mom, Dad, Remmy, and Siri are all out doing their own things. I think Mom is sorting through my vault to see what’s all in there; the Marauders are having one of their date nights where they try out a whole bunch of muggle things in short succession while becoming increasingly drunk.”

“That sounds believable.”

“We can ask Danny if he’ll wanna come, but I doubt it,” Harry answered. “He said today was going to be a Danny-day.”

“Which is?” Tom questioned.

“Basically, he wants to spend the entire day alone. Sometimes the thought of interacting with people—even his family—sounds hard to do, so we respect that and give him time to himself. We had to deal with the Weasleys yesterday, and he had barely any warning to mentally prepare himself for their visit.”

Tom found himself lost. “People- people do that now? They don’t just force him to socialize to get over it?”

Harry looked at him with a half-worried stare. “It’s not something that just goes away. Forcing him to socialize with others when he doesn’t want to just makes everything worse.”

“Oh.” Tom was staring into his hand with a sort of wonder, his voice breathy. “I never knew.”

(He remembers days upon weeks where he wanted nothing more than a day to himself, to have alone time, but he instead forced the feeling down as deep as it would go and kept it there, until the pain of leaving it unchecked was only background static. He remembers ignoring it, working through the feeling, because it was only in his head and therefore didn’t exist-)

“So do you want to come? I honestly just want to scare the crap out of whoever is on the other side. And then we can explore a bunch,” Harry asked again.

And Tom was officially out of arguments, and allowed himself to become just as excited as Harry was. “Yes.”

Harry grinned.

. . . . .

The vortex had fully-formed since Harry and Tom had finished talking. It was a purple spiral, leading to places unknown, with no clue what could be on the other side. (Well, Harry could check, but what would be the fun in that?) Reality itself seemed to distort around it, kind of like a glitch in the universe—which was basically what it was.

Danny had been notified of their departure, and Harry had left a detailed note for the adults for when they returned. He didn’t know how long they’d be gone, but he promised his family no more than a couple days at most.

Tom shuffled on his feet, unable to stand still with the prospect of exploring an entire new dimension. They hadn’t bothered to pack anything; what would be the point in that, when Harry could summon anything he wished with barely half a thought.

“Well, are you ready?” Harry asked, grinning over at Tom with his vibrant eyes.

“Absolutely.”

They held each other’s hand and stepped into the portal without a single hesitation.

It was a hundred million different sensations that Tom had never felt before, everywhere from being sucked through a small hole in the universe to feeling like both nothing and everything at once to when he made his horcruxes and split himself apart, only this time it was a hundred different ways—every single particle in his body—and without any of the pain. He had a moment of panic when he couldn’t feel Harry’s hand, or see Harry anywhere, but he couldn’t really see anything, and feelings were fading and coming as fast as possible.

And as quick as it started, the feeling disappeared. Tom stepped out of the portal, full of anxious excitement as to what was on the other side. He was exploring a new universe. Merlin, he’d never imagined being able to cross dimensions when he’d met Harry, and he surely didn’t deserve to, after everything he’s done, but he’ll accept everything Harry offers him until the day he realizes Tom’s not worth it.

(Harry should’ve killed him the first chance he got.)

The first thing Tom noticed upon exiting the portal was the flash of green light heading straight towards him, in the exact shade of the killing curse.

. . . . .

Harry stepped out of the portal first, having millennia upon millennia to practice walking through dimensions with ease. (Tom would surely be another minute, since it’s his first time.) He felt his body changing to suit the universe, as it did in every single universe, and he wondered what he would look like this time. Maybe he’d have long hair again; Harry loved having the long braid he’d had in the Marvel universe.

The first thing Harry noticed were the countless binding runes under his feet, outlining the small summoning circle until it reached the corners of the room.

Control, control, control-

With an unnecessarily strong stomp of his foot, the stone floor cracked hundreds of different ways, breaking every single one of the runes until they were nothing more than dust.

Then, finally, Harry turned to face his summoners, his eyes almost blinding in the otherwise dark room. “So, which one of you idiots thought that they could control the Master of Death?”

All of his summoners were wearing black cloaks to hide their faces, though they were quickly removing them upon seeing who the Master of Death was. The room was lit up by several small lights throughout, illuminating the basement of Grimmauld Place—somewhere Harry would always recognize immediately.

“.. Harry?”

It was Remus who spoke, barely a whisper, looking distraught and thirty years older, covered in scars.

The others all had varying levels of shock on their faces, ranging everywhere from Snape’s half-furious rage to some of the Weasley’s fully horrified stares.

Ah, he was summoned by the Order of the Phoenix. Harry could barely keep the grin off his face; this was going to be fun. He got summoned to another world parallel to his first life.

Harry took slow, deliberate steps forward, getting closer and closer to the mastermind behind it all. “Albus Dumbledore, I’d say it’s nice to see you again, but.. it’s really not.”

He allowed a terrifying grin to adorn his face, almost too inhuman for them to mistake him for their Harry Potter any longer. Almost.

Sure enough, Dumbledore’s eyes were twinkling, and Harry could almost hear his thoughts.

(‘The Master of Death is only Harry, and Harry is so easy to control. So easy to manipulate to suit my needs; I’ve already been doing it for years.’)

“Harry, my boy, I’m afraid I wasn’t expecting you.”

Harry’s retort could only be described as scathing, full of venom. “But of course not. I am no one’s boy, Dumbledore, and most definitely not yours.”

“Potter! Cease your infernal prank this instant! Just as bad as your father, thinking you can interrupt important meetings because you’re bored.” Snape snapped.

Harry glanced around the room, quickly taking in all the details. So, they thought he was only playing a prank? They don’t actually believe him to be the real Master of Death, for he was only Harry Potter in this world.

Remus seemed to want to speak up—to defend Harry’s father, but he only shrunk in on himself instead. Sirius was nowhere in sight to comfort him like he usually did.

There were only adults in the room—Dumbledore’s most trusted allies in the Order—so the Weasley twins, Ron, Hermione, and whoever else were all missing, most likely somewhere else in the house. Molly and Arthur Weasley, Snape, Dumbledore, Moody, Remus, and perhaps a couple others Harry didn’t bother to name were there, all standing around the broken remains of the circle with varying levels of wariness and irritation. The portal still glowed brightly behind Harry, even though the summoning circle was no better off than any of the binding runes.

Harry ignored Snape completely. “Tell me, Dumbledore, what reason did you have to summon me? You must be quite desperate, surely, to flirt with Death.”

The twinkle in his eyes still hadn’t disappeared—which was perfectly fine by Harry’s logic. It meant he still believed Harry was controllable, and Harry was going to have a wonderful time proving him wrong. “Harry, my boy, if you are indeed the Master of Death, then we request your help to defeat the Dark Lord Voldemort.”

“Bold words coming from somebody who just tried to chain me to the ground,” Harry retorted.

“Yes, well,” Dumbledore started, carefully picking his words. “We thought the Master of Death would be.. someone else.. and were preparing for the worst.”

Harry took a step forward, watching with amusement as half of the room backed up. The ones who didn’t obviously didn’t believe Harry was anybody more than Harry, which would be unfortunate for them. “You would not have summoned me unless you felt truly desperate that you would lose the war against Voldemort. Why do you have no faith in Harry Potter?”

“We have perfect faith in dear Harry,” Dumbledore started. “But he is still young and does not deserve to be pressured into being the wizarding world’s sole protector. I feel we have burdened the boy with enough already, without having him fight our war against Voldemort for us.”

Harry was honestly half shocked at the amount of lies that just came out of Dumbledore’s mouth. He didn’t honestly believe anything he just said, did he? “You expect me to fight against Voldemort for you?”

“Surely the Master of Death would have no problems ridding the world of a single monster,” Dumbledore challenged.

“I could,” Harry agreed, gesturing to the portal behind him. It was revving up again, brightening and swirling faster than it had been. Somebody else was coming through. “But I fear that you’ve mistaken whose side I am truly on.”

Harry’s grin could only be described as predatory, gaining much too much satisfaction from Dumbledore’s expression as he realized he may have made a terrible mistake in trying to summon the Master of Death for his own selfish purposes.

The portal powered up even more, the purple vortex looking close to breaking from the mold it had grown into, but it only continued to shine brighter and brighter, until Tom stepped through the other side, looking a bit disoriented.

Only a few people immediately recognized Tom for who he was, Dumbledore and Mad-Eye Moody being two of these people. Harry would love know what thoughts were running through Dumbledore’s head right now, but he settled for the sheer amount of horror on his face instead.

Moody was a bit quicker to jump into action—years and years of Auror training kicking in at every possible moment, or as he liked to yell, ‘CONSTANT VIGILANCE!’—and whipped out his wand faster than the normal eye could even blink.

A green bolt of light shot out of the end, heading straight towards Tom. He’d only just barely snapped out of his dizziness, and for a quick moment, he looked wonderfully excited to be in a new dimension, just before he saw the killing curse flying towards him and any excitement turned into dread. It was already much too late to dodge out of the way by the time he’d noticed its presence.

In even less amount of time than it would take for the spell to make contact, Harry had already moved. One second, he was across the room next to Dumbledore, and in the next he was standing in front of Tom Riddle, grabbing the deadly curse out of the air with his hand. It glowed the same color as his eyes, bright and vibrant and deadly, curling around his hand like a snake.

While making direct eye contact with both Moody and Dumbledore, Harry raised his hand, which was still tightly gripping the spell, and put it in his mouth. He swallowed it whole, and the entire room watched as Harry’s eyes glowed just a bit brighter for it.

Meanwhile, in his other hand, still at his side, a chain was slowly forming, materializing into existence at his will. Tom was the only person who noticed it’s presence—everybody else still distracted with Harry swallowing the killing curse—and watched as it slowly grew link after link, until it reached around his neck. The chain connected to the sudden collar he was wearing, because apparently his ‘forged from the heart of Harry’s first star’ bracelet had decided to change both shape and location.

And even as it wrapped itself around tighter and tighter, Tom never once felt afraid.

He finally decided to take a proper look around, because he seemed to have just stumbled directly into chaos, only to meet the eyes of Albus Dumbledore from across the room.

Um.

Tom blinked, but no, Dumbledore was still there. His eyes slipped from Tom onto Harry, looking almost.. disappointed. Merlin, Harry would hate that look.

Harry, who apparently seems to have aged almost a decade and was now only a bit shorter than Tom. His previously childish face had completely vanished, and what was left in place was an extremely handsome young man who had gone through puberty almost as well as Tom had.

(Tom decided to ignore the sudden wave of emotions that had come out of nowhere, along with the fact every single one of his organs had apparently decided they wanted to fold themselves into pretzels. The curvy-twisty ones.)

(He also decided to ignore how his body temperature had seemed to raise several degrees, and wondered if the room was naturally this hot and he just hadn’t noticed before.)

(Tom had, however, failed to notice the deep blush he was sporting because of the heat, but that was okay, because nobody else had noticed either.)

Dumbledore spoke, and Tom had almost forgotten how much he hated the sound of his voice. “What reason do you have to protect Voldemort?”

Voldemort?

Moody looks as if he was barely restraining himself from throwing another curse Tom’s direction, but there was no way Harry would allow that to happen.

Harry yanked on the chain, bringing it to everyone’s notice. “This Tom is mine.”

And surprisingly, it’s Remus who spoke up next, while everybody was frozen under the implications of what that meant. “Um, I don’t mean to interrupt, but.. what’s going on?”

Harry smiled, and it wasn’t one that Tom had ever seen directed towards Remus before. Alternate universes were a riot. “As I’ve said before, I am the Master of Death. You all did try to summon me, after all.” He directed the same icy glare back towards Dumbledore, only much more amplified. “It’s such a shame none of your binding runes worked.”

Tom glanced at the ground, noticing for the first time that it was cracked a thousand different ways, and then realizing that the white chalk drawn everywhere had all been binding runes. Merlin, those are a type of illegal that even Tom wouldn’t touch. Even just one would be enough to do some serious damage for any normal human, and there must have been hundreds on the ground. It doesn’t just let somebody control another—which would’ve been bad enough—but it ties their entire being to the other. Everything from their magic to their soul to their mind would be nothing more than a puppet for controlling, or even in the best case scenario, the person would still have to obey any and all orders of the other. It’s what he based his Dark Marks off of, but like, there were lines even Voldemort wouldn’t cross, and that was saying something.

If Tom hadn’t been connected to the leash Harry was holding, he would’ve walked straight out of the room to throw up. Honestly, his stomach was still contemplating the action anyways, but Tom tried not to focus on that too much.

Remus cringed back a bit, but after catching a supportive twinkle in Dumbledore’s eye, he continued. “Y-Yes, but.. Why do you look like Harry?”

Nobody could say he was a normal human anymore, not after swallowing a killing curse whole. Harry answered anyways, both as vague and as truthful as he could be. “Because that’s who I am.”

There really was no other answer that he could’ve given.

Snape, and several others, didn’t look like they really believed that, still somehow doubting the authenticity of Harry not being the same as their Harry, and instead somehow being thousands of times stronger and apparently sided with Voldemort. Who was on a leash.

Molly Weasley, who had been in moderate to severe amounts of shock before then, finally voiced her opinion, as she always does. “Harry, dear, why don’t you introduce us to your.. friend..”

It was obvious to see that everybody was curious about the person that could cause such a negative reaction with both Dumbledore and Mad-Eye Moody, especially with Dumbledore normally being wonderfully kind to everybody else without discrimination.

(Harry wanted to scoff.)

Harry lifted the chain and let everybody watch as it clanked together—showing it off to the crowd, as if to remind them all of its presence. As if to remind them that ‘Harry’ currently had somebody on the end of a leash, somebody who Dumbledore and Moody recognized. “Yes, Tom, why don’t you introduce yourself?”

Tom caught onto Harry’s plan easily (not that Harry was trying to hide it with that smirk-), and understood exactly why Harry had so much fun (other than almost dying) with summonings. He got to mess with random people who had been expecting something completely different, all while having no consequences on his actual universe.

Tom stepped forward, out of Harry’s shadow. He grinned, baring just a bit too many teeth to be anything other than predatory, all while never making a move to remove the obvious collar around his neck. The Deathly Hallows symbol glinted in the dim lights, as if it were glowing with the same power that Tom resonated. “My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, but you all know me better as Lord Voldemort. I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, but.. it’s really not.”

His last line was full of scathing venom directed towards Dumbledore, all but mirroring what Harry had said only minutes before.

Snape sneered, “You expect us to believe that this.. boy is the notorious Dark Lord?”

Harry shrugged. “Well, I don’t really care if you believe me or not, but he most definitely is.” He met Snape’s glare head-on, causing the man to barely hold back a flinch. “And surely, Severus Snape, Harry would know who he is better than anybody else.”

(Hearing the name, Tom’s mind decided to dredge up a random memory from years ago—of a catchy song that Harry had showed him before he’d messed everything up.)

“Yes, Mr. Potter,” Dumbledore started, unable to keep quiet for longer than a few minutes, “I have no doubts that you know Voldemort better than any of us, but why, may I ask, have you brought Tom Riddle to our, supposedly, very secure location, and on a leash, may I add?” The elder wizard glanced to Tom’s collar, noticing how the Dark Lord never made a move to remove it, looking completely at ease in a room full of enemies.

“.. That was like six questions in one,” Tom mumbled.

“Because Tom Marvolo Riddle belongs to me, and I would prefer that none of your men attack what is mine, Dumbledore,” Harry voiced.

(Tom’s memory only grew more vivid, until the lyrics made their way to the tip of his tongue.)

“Is this the reason you will not help against the war with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Because you have already enslaved your universe’s version of him?” Dumbledore asked, looking both disappointed and upset that Harry would apparently enslave somebody, like that was any of his business.

“I’m here of my complete free will, thanks.”

Harry smiled, pulling the leash taut until Tom was forced to lean closer, who didn’t look even a bit annoyed with what was happening. “Tom came to me of his own choosing, and I simply accepted what he offered. And besides, you should be much more worried about the fact you unleashed the Master of Death upon this universe than any mortal wizard.”

Dumbledore caught on quickly, gaining a darker glare as his thoughts aligned. “What did you plan to do while in this universe, Mr. Potter?”

Harry broke out into a terrifying grin, reminding Dumbledore, once again, that he was not as human as people first assume (not that Dumbledore believed him). Too many teeth, and eyes just on the wrong side of green, too close to the color of the curse he just swallowed whole. “Maybe I will go end the war.” His smile grew just a bit wider. “Come along, Tom, let’s go find this universe’s Harry Potter.”

They walked past the crowd, to the place where Harry knew the door was hidden. Nobody tried to stop them, choosing instead to shuffle out of the way. Even Dumbledore was frozen where he stood, trying to understand the implications of what he just summoned.

Harry turned at the last second, staring directly at Dumbledore through the small crowd. “And you’re wrong—Tom isn’t a monster.”

He stepped through the doorway, Tom following right behind him, and they didn’t bother to look back.

The portal stayed wide open, perfect for somebody else to jump through, if they so wished.

. . . . .

“You’re not actually going to go murder Harry Potter, right?” Tom asked, looking nonchalant.

They were walking side by side on the sidewalk, on their way to a house in Surrey. The sun was shining high in the sky, almost time for lunch, and while the neighborhood was pretty, Tom felt a bit unsettled by how every single house seemed to look exactly the same. Harry didn’t look perturbed though, so Tom didn’t really bother wondering whether this was normal or not.

“Obviously not, but that’ll keep Dumbledore busy for a while. It’ll be hilarious when he finally finds us.” Harry smiled, glancing over to the other wizard. “And.. for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Hm?”

Harry gestured to the bracelet, once again wrapped around Tom’s wrist exactly like it had been earlier. The Deathly Hallows symbol dangled loosely off the accessory, glinting in the sunlight. His smile dropped into a frown, voice no louder than a murmur. “For.. the leash. And collar. And almost getting you killed right after you regained mortality.” Harry paused, looking distraught. “It hasn’t even been a day.”

“Why are you apologizing?” (Harry should never have to apologize to him.) “You protected me from getting hurt, just as you said you would. Plus, just in case you’ve forgotten, I was the one to offer my servitude. I accepted your bracelet—which you said represented a collar, might I add—, I would obey almost any order you give me; if wearing a literal collar is what you so desire, who am I do disagree? I offered you myself—my body, my soul, my magic, and whatever else—and that is what I will give you, of my free will.” Tom rubbed over the bracelet. “Actually, it’s kind of a shame the collar disappeared so quickly. I didn’t get a chance to see it, and I quite liked it.”

An idea suddenly popped in Harry’s head, and the blunt shock of it forced him into stopping mid-step. “Oh, oh Merlin.”

Tom stopped too, looking concerned. “What is it?”

“It all suddenly makes sense,” Harry muttered, staring down at the ground in surprise.

“What’re you talking about?”

“I can’t believe I never realized.”

“.. Harry?”

And suddenly Harry was staring straight at him, understanding dawning in his eyes. “You’re just a bratty sub.”

Tom didn’t think he could get more confused. “What??”

“I’m in moderate to severe amounts of shock right now.”

“I’m sorry??”

“No, not your fault,” Harry waved him off, starting to walk again. Tom quickly caught up with him. “I just need to reevaluate several life choices.”

Tom was still very concerned and very confused, but decided to take Harry’s word for it. Whatever ‘it’ was. “Soooo, may I ask why you’ve suddenly aged a decade?”

In the bright sunlight, Tom was able to get a proper look at Harry’s new looks, which included being only a couple inches shorter than Tom, a wild mess of hair that Tom wanted nothing more than to run his hands through, and.. well, he actually really resembled James. They had the same jawline, same body physique, but.. why did Harry look so thin?

“I take on the body of whomever I personify in each realm. In this dimension, I am Harry Potter, so I take on his looks.”

“But.. we’re going to go visit Harry Potter, right? So you’ve only copied his body,” Tom summarized. “Wait, how old are you right now?”

Harry studied his body for a moment, measuring different parts of his arm, waist, hair length, and whatever else before coming to a conclusion. “Summer after my fifth year. Fifteen. Sirius Black just died a couple weeks ago, and Harry is going through mourning, while also being ignored by his friends—thanks to Dumbledore—and being tasked with hundreds of chores. It would be the start of the sixth book in your series, so prepare for massive spoilers.”

Tom brought out his copy of the second book, flipping through its pages. “Well, unless these account for us visiting, I doubt everything will be spoiled.”

“True.”

“So where are we going, anyways? Actually, don’t tell me- We’re visiting the Dursleys?”

“Yep!” Harry agreed. “If.. If I start zoning out, or doing or saying anything weird, just.. get my attention. Snap me out of it.”

Tom had grown up in the middle of a war, hated for everything he ever stood for. Of course the realization of what that meant would hit him rather quickly—he was too smart for it to fly over his head that easily.

“.. Your Dursleys were not the ones from the book, were they.” It was a question, but came out as a statement. A fact.

“No, they weren’t. The summertime in the books- They left out a lot of facts. Ask my mother if you want to know, tell her you have my permission to tell you.”

“.. How do you not hate me?” Tom mumbled. “Why did you ever leave me alive?”

“Tom, look at me.” It was an order, and Tom didn’t dare disobey. Harry brought their faces closer together, until his eyes were the only thing Tom could see. “You didn’t do that. In my first life, Dumbledore was the one to put me with the Dursleys. Vernon was the one who did the act. You, on the other hand, didn’t even kill my parents. You stunned them. So even if I hadn’t been me, I still wouldn’t have ended up with them. And trust me when I say that I’ve done much worse things than you have,” Harry explained. “I’ve killed millions. Hundreds of millions. I am the Master of Death—just think about what that title means for a minute.”

Tom could only close his eyes and nuzzle into the hand still holding his face close.

“I was just.. trying to warn you of what may happen, I suppose. I didn’t want to catch you off guard,” Harry muttered.

“Right,” Tom pulled away, “I guess I shouldn’t.. worry about that right now. We’ve got a Chosen One to corrupt.”

Harry saw the subject chance for what it was, but decided to play along. There was no use dwelling on distressing topics right now—not in another dimension, right out on the streets, with Dumbledore hot on their tail. “Exactly. Come on, we’re almost there.”

The picked up the pace a bit, walking in a comfortable silence along the street, getting closer and closer to the house.

“Wait, if you’re both Harry Potter, should I address one of you differently? Your Harry and he’s Potter? Or I could always refer to you as Master, of course.”

Harry imagined how that would go over and had to clutch his sides from laughing too hard. “Oh Merlin, you might actually achieve what Voldemort has never been able to do. I can already imagine the Daily Prophet headlines: ‘Boy-Who-Lived Killed By Dark Lord Voldemort’,” Harry took on a reporter voice. “Harry Potter, the golden boy-who-lived, supposedly died of a stroke after Voldemort walked into his house and called him ‘Master’ out of nowhere. Witnesses can confirm that the blunt shock of the event completely fried Mr. Potter’s brain after he was unable to comprehend the meaning behind the word.”

Tom laughed, the previous depressing mood already a thing of the past. “Okay, you may have a point. Should I just call you both Harry then, and hope for the best?”

Harry was quiet for a minute, before finally answering, “Call me Mod.”

“Mod?” Tom repeated. “Where’d you come up with that?”

“M O D,” Harry spelled out. “Master of Death. I am MoD Harry.”

Tom shrugged. “Works for me.”

They reached the house shortly afterwards, where Harry and Tom could see that the flower bed was just a little greener, the house a bit cleaner, and that the surrounding wards—the ones meant to keep Voldemort out—didn’t do a single thing, other than alert Tom to their presence.

“.. Did you know there are wards around the house?”

“Oh, right. Lily’s death supposedly made ‘blood wards’ around the Dursleys’ house, since Petunia is a blood relative. However, they only work, and are much more powerful, if I were to consider this place my ‘home’,” Harry explained.

“A house doesn’t make a home,” Tom muttered.

So, they did what any Master of Death and Dark Lord would do, and rang the doorbell.

“Ah yes, the doorbell,” Tom agreed.

“Ring ring.” Harry pressed the button.

“You know, I the last time I rang a doorbell was that one night.”

Harry muffled his voice, “Open up James, this is the evil police.”

“Evil police.”

“Yeah, instead of catching bad guys, they’re actually just murderers in disguise.”

Tom laughed. “You’re not wrong.”

“Perhaps murdering the Dursleys is not the best course of action right now, though.”

“No, but it sure is tempting.”

“You’re telling me.”

The door swung open, revealing a haggardly-dressed and very tired-looking Harry Potter, whose green eyes, no matter how widened they were, Tom mused, were barely half as vibrant as his Harry’s. Merlin, that was going to get confusing quickly.

“ Voldemort!”