"Can you try not to fight with mom?" Lilith asked her father with pleading eyes, the same bright blue as her mother's. Luckily she looked more like him, the height and the black hair, but she got the tan skin and blue eyes from her mother.

Tom gave her a reluctant smile, shifting Sophia to his hip as she tugged at his hair. "You know I'm not the one to start those ones," Tom said, raising his eyebrows. And he didn't. He preferred a wide berth from his ex-wife. Being in the same country was sometimes too much for him.

"Just try for me, please. Or else she'll spend the entire night after you leave-"

"What, complaining about how she left me with a four year old while I was working full time at the only wizarding school in Great Britain?" Tom scoffed loudly and obliged by turning his head so Sophia could continue braiding his hair. Whenever he cut his hair, the three year old would complain loudly, and the little brunette had him wrapped around her little fingers, so he kept his hair long.

Lil gave him a look that said she agreed but what could she do. And while the marriage had ended pretty badly between him and Reina, he hadn't wanted his only child to lose all connection with her mother. Given that he'd had no connections with either of his parents, after all. Sometimes he regretted ever encouraging the relationship between them.

"Pop pop!" Sophia declared loudly and he turned to look at her, giving her a broad smile. "Sofie!" He declared in a mock teasing voice, tickling her some.

"I made chu pretty!" The three year old declared loudly after she finished giggling, and then began wiggling, demanding to be put down. Letting her slide to the ground, the older man watched his only grandchild run off to play with some of the other children, some of them passing around the little toddler brooms that parents had brought along. He reached a hand up and grimaced when he felt the knots of braids and began slowly tugging them apart.

A loud tisking noise from the other side of the room made the man roll his eyes as he untangled the last of the knots, catching the glare of Reina. Not that she dared to cross the room and approached him, so he did what he'd been doing since Lilith had become of age, ignored the woman's existence. Grabbing a glass he moved over to interact with some of his former students, he tried to forget the obnoxious blonde woman in favor of the two new aurors-in-training.


He was regretting the decision to face the problem head on instead of first attempting to wake himself from this madness. This Albus, for this wasn't his Albus but a different Albus completely who'd never even liked him in this crazed world (and for good reason given that the him in this world was a completely deranged psychopath).

Cradling his face in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees, he ran through different plans of actions in his head. The problem as he saw it was that the arch, likely a portal between worlds, was not in fact a full functioning portal. Either it was broken in some manner, or only worked sporadically. Nothing in the files had ever reported a disappearance during the times of surging power so no one had likely passed throw the arch itself, as he had had. But the fact that there was no description of the appearance of the veil, or shroud or sheet or whatever it was during these times also troubled him. "I don't suppose there'd be a chance the Unspeakables would let me pitch a tent and wait for the next surge in the arch?" He asked Albus dryly and the elder man gave him an indulgent smile, passing him a bowl of lemon drops. He didn't take one, his stomach already in knots.

"I doubt they'd do anything less than restrain you and probe every corner of your mind after they find they two you disarmed and obliviated in the chamber." Albus reminded him and Tom frowned again.

"So, how exactly did I- Voldemort, even come up with that name? Had he consumed an inordinate amount of firewhiskey?" Tom asked, trying to make a joke but instead coming off sounding rather sour. Not that he didn't have the right. Albus seemed to catch on that Tom would rather differentiate between the pair as though they were two separate people because in a way they were, even if they were reflection of what they could have been. Not that Albus was even truly sure what the catalyst that had set them on these two very different paths had been.

Of course he knew to some extent that the reason Voldemort had never loved or understood love was the fact that he had been conceived under the effects of a love potion. He very much doubted this Tom had not been, hence his ability to love and empathize with the people around him.

"I believe he made it in his school years as an anagram from his name," Dumbledore said with a smirk, "So I doubt firewhiskey was involved, but it was probably his attempt at being clever, given it also means 'flight of death.'"

Tom rolled his eyes and then rubbed them again, finally straightening in his chair. Albus in some ways already felt drawn to the man, in the same way many who had not seen past the mask of Tom Riddle in his youth had. But he'd seen from this man, in memories that had been laid forward for him to view so readily he doubted the man had manipulated them in anyway. This man had grown up with a love for the Albus of his world that Albus had once hoped to receive from Voldemort in his youth, seen how this man marveled at the beauty of the wizarding world for its true worth, rather than just as a means to manipulate and use for his benefit. He'd even married, though apparently it had ended badly, but the love he had for his daughter and granddaughter was obvious. If this morning someone had appeared and told the headmaster that in another world Tom Riddle had raised a happy and well developed daughter and was helping his daughter to raise a daughter of her own, he would have likely given them a sad smile and reported them to St Mungos for a mental evaluation.

This also brought up a small problem though, as well as certain… questions. It was clear this Tom had never made attempts for domination of the wizarding world or immortality, he didn't even appear to have a problem with muggleborns or muggles, and while Albus had been looking into the possibility that Voldemort had used the creation of certain dark items in attempts to become immortal, this Tom had clearly never even considered it.

"As you saw I am currently on outs with the Ministry," Dumbledore began and Tom nodded, a small sigh passing his lips as he pressed his dark hair from his face, retying the hairs that had escapes from the tie. "But I do have some contacts that may be able to pass along information of the arch on our end. Perhaps you can make a connection of something or other and it may lead to a way back to your world."

Of course Tom had already considered this and while he was hopeful this would be the case, there was a lingering doubt. The dates that had been recorded for decades apart and quite honestly he doubted that he would have the patience to wait that time. Also if there was this world, then that likely meant there were others and that there was no absolute certainty that going through the arch would actually bring him back and not just to another world. The idea that he might have to do this all over again made him sick to the stomach, and he voiced his concerns to Albus, who seemed to agree.

"That brings up back to Voldemort," Tom said finally, "I suppose you're going to ask for my assistance to bring about his downfall?" For all the love, adoration and trust he had for the older man, Tom wasn't naïve or blind to the fact that Dumbledore rarely did anything without a motive, or ignored a possibly ally. The man was probably one of the most manipulative people in the world, but at least his drive seemed to be focused on keeping the world from falling into chaos, so there was that.

"Well, given that you have been a teacher at Hogwarts, albeit not our own, of course," The old lion said with a small chuckle, "And we have a position for our Defense against the Dark Arts professor open-"

"You want me to take it?" Tom finished, giving Albus a look similar to that you'd give a man who'd suggest stepping on a kitten.

"Well you are the most qualified, and given I am fairly certain Voldemort has in fact cursed the position, I wouldn't doubt you taking it would break it." Albus's eyes twinkled and Tom groaned at the look, "After all, you are Tom Riddle."

He had a point there. And it wasn't as though he had much better to do other than sit around try to find a way back to his own world. "I'm certain I do not want to take a polyjuice potion or charm myself to look a different way or take on a different name, thank you very much."

Dumbledore shrugged and for the first time since they entered the room, Fawkes let out a loud chirp and alighted down onto the desk before climbing onto Tom's shoulder. Tom crooned at the familiar bird and stroked his feathers.

"As you saw, Voldemort look little as he once did, as you know do. And very few people are actually aware of the connection between Tom Riddle and Voldemort, believe it or not."

The heir of Slytherin gave the headmaster a doubtful look, "How did they not know? Are the people here blind?"

"Riddle disappeared and broke connections, and a man appeared with the name Lord Voldemort and a face that barely resembled the former Slytherin. Many of his original followers from his school days have passed on and the few who remain, to my knowledge, wouldn't be keen to run about announcing to the world a second Lord Voldemort is in our midst." The look he gave was sympathetic, but Tom still did not like being compared to the mad man. "Especially considering the backlash Harry and I have received for simply reporting the reappearance of the first one."

"Touché." Tom agreed. "Plus, I have to admit I'd pay several galleons to see that man's face when someone tells him a wizard by the name of Tom Riddle is taking the Defense position."

"On this we must agree," Dumbledore said with a smirk. "Now for my other matter, the Order of the Phoenix…"

"You really must come up with other names for your secret dark-fighting organizations," Tom said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair, still scratching Fawkes' head.

Dumbledore gave a shrug, "I see no reason too. Will you be joining us then?"

"I doubt, knowing you, I have much of a choice."

The quirked eyebrow was enough of an answer so Tom gave a defeated shrug. "Sure, why not, let's add dimension hopping, Dark Lord fighting fugitive to my resume, my Albus will be tickled when I tell him another him enlisted me to fight myself."

This brought a familiar booming laugh from the headmaster, coughing Tom to grin reflexively. Oh yes, this was going to be interesting.