Tendrils of lightning raked the dark night sky as thunder boomed. Through the torrential downpour, the visage of a man could be made out, walking with slow steps. His dark hair was plastered to his face, and he didn't seem to pay any attention to it. He was deep in thought. The rain did not seem to perturb him at all; He rather seemed to enjoy it.

"I wonder, does a snake fear lightning?"

He asked himself in a deceptively soft voice. Without looking at the new arrival of a man at his side, he asked, "Report?"

"Gertrude Gryffindor has apparently been spending time with Harold Slytherin."

Wolf turned to the man who was standing beside him, and watched him intently. He was young, with auburn hair, and eyes, which always seemed to astonish him. Golden eyes, lackluster, curiously haunted.

"Do you know the reason why I decided on such a name for you?" Wolf asked him.

The man observed Wolf curiously, intrigued at the change of topic, and answered in a gruff voice, "No."

Wolf cursed under his breath for his strange lapse in concentration, and reverted to the original topic.

"Did you manage to hear what Gyffindor and Slytherin talked about?"

The man said, "Negative. Slytherin's wards are too strong for me; I doubt he can be touched as long he's there. And this is Slytherin we're talking about. I know better than to take his defence as his defence only. I know there is a healthy dose of offense there."

Wolf laughed out loud. "Yes, yes, I know Slytherin's apparent powers. And I know he's taking big steps and calling in old alliances. Looks like even if the light side in this War is not prepared, the Dark side will be. I apparently underestimated Slytherin, for he has not yet taken the bait and come to me as I thought he would."

The man said, "But Gryffindor looks suspicious; I can already tell that she understood the reference to Slytherin and is investigating herself; she'll be lead straight to you."

"And that's where you come in."Wolf said dismissively.

"Pardon me?"

"I said, that's where you come in. I do not want Gryffindor to be lead to me. She must be lead to you. I will take care of Slytherin. I have to. Gryffindor, is all yours. Do have fun with her as much as you like, before you finally off her."

And Wolf got the reaction that he had wanted. The man reared back as if slapped, and then, with a furious fire in his golden eyes, yelled, "She is an extremely gifted witch, Wolf! Speak of her with respect! She deserves death by the killing curse when she loses to me, for it'll be an honorable fight!"

Wolf stalked over to him, and coming nose to nose, said scathingly, "Honor. Is this what is making you weak? These are for puny wills of puny magicals. I frankly do not care what you do with her. I just want both of the lines ended. Continue acting with honor, and it might be your head that rolls of his shoulder. Have you forgotten that we are not fighting a Lioness, but the Serpent as well? Does he take stock of honor? Is it Slytherin to take stock of honor?"

"Say what you will, Wolf," the other man hissed, refusing to back down, "I will fight with honor. That's my choice. I do not care what that Seprent will do. I care only for my actions. Have a good time. Owl me when the next plan is made." With that, he turned on the spot and vanished with a crack.

"Continue doing so, old friend." Wolf whispered to the empty air, as he started to laugh, "such honor, and you have problems with me naming you Lion! Hear me, I have no problems if your honor manages to shed blood besides your own!"

The continuing boom of thunder masked the icy laughing as the darkness swallowed the man as he turned on the spot and disappeared.

(line break)

Harry sat back, exhausted, on his bed. He had taken Tom to Diagon Alley today. Tom hadn't been too surprised at the Alley, and, much like Harry, hadn't like the crowds a bit, certainly not the looks that most of the crowd had been shooting him and his "charading" father. When asked why he wasn't blowing up, Harry had been replied, " Do you think myself to be so insecure that I'll go over and preach about my goodness to them?". Needless to say, Harry had been very pleased. This timeline's Tom certainly had been swerved the right way. Tom had been impressed, though, when Harry had taken him to visit the Slytherin vault. He had loved trying on the wands of all their ancestors, though, none had really worked. Fascinated, he had bombarded Harry with questions on wandlore, and Harry was sending endless stream of thank-you's to Ollivander in the original timeline for teaching him at least something about wandlore at the Shell Cottage that eventful day Dobby died.

When he visited Ollivander though, the man's reaction had come as a relief. True, he did seem to be wary, but who would not be wary of a Slytherin? Bit what relieved Harry was that the man didn't seem to be caught by the irrational prejudice that he had been producing whenever he went public; he seemed interested in helping Tom get his wand. Harry did frown at the wand. Tom might have changed, but the wand had not changed. It didn't emit loud bangs or sparks as it bonded with its master, but Harry, as well as Ollivander felt, the whoosh of power that it exuded. Thankfully, Ollivander only told, "Good, very good, young Mr. Slytherin. Lord Slytherin, we have every high of hopes of your son keeping the Line true in its power, though your wand….doesn't seem to be a familiar build of what we use in Britain."

At which Tm had waved a dismissive hand, clearly taking that as a proof of Harry's powerful magic again, and had asked Harry if he could go and visit the book shop. Harry ruffled his hair and gave a nod. Tom went on his way. Harry turned to Ollivander and said,

"It is very improbable that you'll recognize the build. It has…..rather exotic origins."

"Am I right in understanding, Lord Slytherin, that the wand in your hand is made of Elder?" the old man asked bluntly, straight to the point. To his credit, Harry didn't flinch, not even frowned. Maintaining an impassive face, he told,

"You might understand a lot many things, Mr. Ollivander. But pardon me, I don't see myself as an Authority on clarifying whether they are true or not."

And as he walked out of the door, Ollivander's voice had stopped him for a second. Ollivander had replied in an impassive voice,

"You do not need to clarify anything to me, Lord Slytherin. But when the time comes, please have the ability to clarify you to yourself. Immense power often becomes immense poison. I sincerely hope that that doesn't become the case with you."

Harry paused only to answer, "You know really nothing of it, Mr. Ollivander. Good day to you." And he had gone out.

Tomorrow, he'll be taking Tom to King's cross; strange as it was, it was still a joy that leapt in Harry's heart when the letter bearing the name "Thomas Harold Slytherin" came and the Hogwarts seal came. He had noted the quiet joy in Tom's eyes too. Harry had long ago given up on his dream of a family; he had chosen to come here to just change things. But looking at the boy before him, Harry felt a strange sort of affection in his heart,that told him that he was not alone in this timeline. He did not know how things would turn out in the end, but he would know that he basked in the glow of having a family at last, however be it only the two of them.

"That's funny," Tom had said to Harry at seeing his middle name.

"I'm a good daddy, Tom." Harry smirked at him.

Tom sighed regretfully. "Sometimes I don't understand who's the child and who's not. But I've been meaning to ask you, Harry. Why go to such lengths to make it known that I'm your son and not your brother?"

Harry said, "Look at it from this side, Tom. If we were brothers, people would have been asking a fat lot of questions about our true lineage and what not. The fact that I'm your father, in the public sense, sends out the clear message that yes, the Slytherin line is unbroken through me and you. If we were brothers, the manipulative bustards…oops….well, I'm really your brother, so you might learn cuss words from me, no big deal, yes….then the manipulative bustards would've used your Hogwarts schooling as the time to drive a wedge between you and me. I know that you are aware of the fact that our line has many enemies, Light as well as Dark."

Tom thought over what he heard, then he spoke.

"That's good. But you skipped over the other reason."

"There wasn't any other reason." Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Of course there is," Tom rolled his eyes, "I'm your son, hence the eldest descendant, so that puts off the old Purebloods from chasing you to marry their daughter and have the prestige of tying knots with a Founder's House, though that didn't stop Greengrass and Davis from both making eyes at you, that day at Wizengamot, the day you thrashed Gryffindor."

Harry winced, as Tom smirked at him.

Glaring at Tom, Harry retorted,

"Why don't you go and study some third year transfiguration textbook? These shouldn't have your attention on them." And, Harry couldn't believe he was telling someone, "your studies are important, Tom. You will have enough time to worry about all these things later."

"Yeah, whatever. Just stay wary of those two women. And whatever daughters those bigoted gits have. I don't want anyone jumping my father now, do I?" Tom took on a high, soap opera voice, "Oh, what will my dear, departed mother think?"

And with that, both collapsed into laughter, Harry rolling on the floor catching his side, and Tom thumping the table they sat at.

Unknown to them, Salazar Slytherin also smiled as he looked at the pair laughing. His broken and twisted family had begun to mend itself. Now it was time to gather up all portraits of those loyal to the Line that were at Hogwarts to try and keep watch on Tom, so that the old coot wouldn't try a thing on his so-many-times great grandson. Harold will keep watch in his own way, Salazar knew. He resolved to watch the young Slytherin in his own way also.

When the laughter subsided, both of them went up to the sitting room and sat in front of the fire, relaxing against conjured sofas.

"It'll be a lot like this in the common room, but it'll be a bit dark and damp in the Slytherin one." Harry told him.

"But you said you've never been to Hogwarts!"

"I have…..friends." Harry said with an evil smile. Tom shook his head, and said, "What house do you want me in?"

"I don't want you in any house, Tom." Harry said, staring at the fire.

Tom watched him, and touched his arm. "Harry?"

Harry seemed to break from a trance. He jerked, and said,

"I want you in your home, Tom." He looked straight into Tom's eyes. "Where you'll always return at the end."

Tom didn't say a word, but hugged Harry fiercely. Although joking, Harry had started to become a sort of father figure in his life, one he could follow, disobey, yet be completely at ease with, and he gave him his first acceptance in life. A man who gave him a home, who gave him a name, who rescued him from that horrible orphanage. Who gave him a family, who had given him hope. All that was said in the hug; no words were necessary. Harry smiled, and patted Tom's back affectionately. Then he pried Tom from himself, and looked into his eyes, arms still around him.

"They say, Gryffidor is for the brave. Hufflepuff, for the loyal. Ravenclaw, for the clever. Slytherin, for the cunning. But I don't want you to be any one of this, Tom. You already are everything. I just want you to be Tom. The same boy who was so happy when somebody told him he could talk to snakes too. Be yourself, Tom. Don't become a personification of any House you are sorted into. I will love you the same if you were in Gryffindor."

"But, but," Tom stammered, "let's just say that I'm sorted into Gryffindor. What'll they say? What'll you feel?"

Harry laughed, and ruffled Tom's hair. "Those one-word Houses mean nothing to me, Tom. A man can be brave, loyal, clever, and cunning too. He does not need to be either a Gryff, or a Huff, or a Raven, or a Snake to be so. He just needs to be a true man."

Tom said, "How can you be so much unprejudiced, Harry? I've heard so much about our family…."

"I'm not concerned with History, Tom," he nodded at Slytherin's portrait, from where Salazar sent him a grateful smile, Tom noticed, and Harry continued. "I'm not concerned with what happened in the past. I can't revoke that. But I can shape the future by controlling the present. Don't be concerned by what our family reputation is. Show them, Tom, that being a Slytherin means nothing if you're not Tom first of all."

"I'm proud of your father, young Tom." Salazar said from his portrait. Tom nodded solemnly. "And I'm proud of you, Tom. He said the truth. Being a Slytherin means nothing if you can't acknowledge freely what you are without it. You'll do well, son. Maybe, someday, you'll even be even greater than your father. Just be Tom first."

Harry interpreted the longing look in Salazar's eyes perfectly, and levitated his portrait to them, very close to them, and conjured some pillows and propped the portrait against them. Salazar gratefully said, "Thank you, Harold."

"Not a problem, Grandfather."

"Hey, are we going to cry because I'm going away for a month?" Tom asked sitting up.

"Of course not, boy!" Salazar boomed. "Today, we will be sweeping battle stori….er.." he stammered at Harry's glare that perfectly told him don't you dare tell the boy about the massacres, upon which, he changed his direction, "no, we'll be making a collection of the jokes that the snakes had ever told us in our time. We might even write a book on it!"

"Have you been ever told a joke by a snake?" Tom asked Harry.

Harry waved dismissively. "Pft. Anacondas say curiously dirty jokes, even dirtier than the cobras. At least the cobras make sure that they have an adult audience. Did you got told any jokes?"

Tom made an odd sound. "Only once. A little snake once told me that I was beautiful."

"The snake was hitting on you?!" Harry and Salazar started laughing.

"Oh come on! I was handsome, not beautiful, dammit!" Tom yelled over the shouts of mirth that filled the entire room.

(line break)

Both of them stood before the train, Tom casting one longing look at the way back. He thanked his family's "reputation" for which people were generally giving him and his "father" a wide berth. He didn't like crowds very much, except for Harry's friends, Black, Malfoy, Lestrange and Avery. He knew that Harry had told all of them, as well as the eight or ten wizards in black standing behind bearing the names of Rosier, Rookwood, Yaxley, Nott and others he had forgotten, that it wasn't necessary that To got a see-off, but they had annoyingly stuck to Harry. He liked Lestrange; the man almost seemed to be in love with Harry. Black was friendly enough and had helped him prank Salazar once(although Salazar didn't know of Black's involvement), and once Malfoy got weary of giving him tips on how to keep his hair long and silky, he was also allright, according to Tom. And there were the two ladies, Greengrass and Davis, ever intent on how to teach Tom to mash green and silver together in his wardrobe.

"For the umpteenth time, I don't see why I should wear green and silver! Father certainly doesn't! And I don't need fashion tips, please."

All of the wizards present gasped, Black coughed, while Lestrange murmured, "Such conviction at a young age; such worthy of the line! The Lord had produced a worthy heir!" at which Harry frowned heavily, and turned to face the wizards exasperatedly.

"Listen, folks. Tom is grown up enough to take care of himself; so stop mothering him. He decides what he wears. As long as he's Tom, I don't give a knut what he wears, although, I will certainly not like the sight if he's naked."

Tom glowered at him. Greengrass huffed, and told Harry, "But, Lord Slytherin! Let me at least tame his hair a bit. It'd look nice that way-"

"That won't be necessary, Lady Greengrass," Harry interrupted. "You're hands do work magic, but I'd rather Tom be as he is. Now, the train'll be starting."

Tom jumped into Harry's arms, and hugged him fiercely. Harry similarly hugged him back, crushing him to his chest. All the wizards there couldn't help but marvel at the bond this father and his son apparently shared, even Malfoy caught his breath at the beauty of the scene. After what seemed what like a long time, Harry heaved a sigh, and put Tom down. Tom hopped into the train, and Harry just raised his hand in farewell as the train took Tom away from him for the next six months till Christmas break came.