A low drone of voices filled the Room of Requirement, none of the gathered members of the Knights of Walpurgis brave enough to speak in a voice louder than a whisper which could have easily been misconstrued as the gentle rustle of the banners hanging overhead. Each shifted uncomfortably in their seats and took turns sending surreptitious glances at the throne-like chair standing empty at the head of the table.

Tom had never been absent from a meeting before. Had never been late, even by a moment. Was always there at least half an hour before any of them even considered arriving. Yet their leader was nowhere to be found. None of them knew what to expect. Had something happen to hold him up? Were they in some sort of trouble? Would there be punishment?

"It's not in his nature to play a prank like this." Abraxas' voice was all but inaudible yet reached to the far corners of the table. "He doesn't play games with such serious matters as our meetings."

"You're right, Malfoy."

"Maybe it was Potter; payback for poking fun at him in front of everyone at the party last week?"

"Don't be stupid, Mulciber. That's the dumbest idea of a prank I've ever heard: Crab and Goyle are capable of concocting better." Nott snapped.

"Yeah. Yeah we are."

"Course we are."

Lestrange and Rosier exchanged glances and rolled their eyes.

"I still feel like that scar-faced Pratt is going to come popping of the cabinet at any moment and scare the piss out of all of us."

Another bout of silence descended over them again.

"Does anyone know where Avery is?" Lestrange finally asked.

"Not me."

"No idea."

"Come to think of it, I haven't seen him all day."

"He's been acting strange."

"So has Tom. Has anyone else noticed that?" All eyes turned to Rosier then. "Ever since Harry showed up, he's been off. At first it was fairly typical behavior for him, just that he was after his arse a bit more than normal, but then the meeting stopped and he started acting… Odd."

Before anyone could answer the door of the room flew open, allowing another boy to stalk into the room.

"Avery, there you are!"

"Where's Tom?"

"Riddle isn't coming." He grunted, storming across the room and throwing himself into what was widely considered to be Tom's chair. "He doesn't even know we're here."

The other boys gathered around the table stared at him as if he'd just committed blasphemy in the temple of a God. Surprisingly it was Goyle who finally broke the silence. "What's… Going on?"

"What's going on is a shift of power, that's what!" He snapped, narrowing his eyes at all of them. "Tom Riddle isn't the leader of the Knights of Walpurgis anymore. I am; you answer to me now."

Nott dissolved into laughter, earning a glare from the other. "Sorry Avery, but you're joking aren't you?" He snickered. "You think you can stand against Voldemort? And you expect us to stand with you? You've lost your mind."

"Voldemort is dead."

"Wha-?"

"You really have lost your mind!"

"Tom was in the dorms: I saw him this morning! He's not dead!"

"I don't mean literally, you idiots!" Avery replied harshly. "Tom Riddle is alive, but Voldemort-the Dark Lord-is dead. His vision is dead. And so is our avenue to power."

"Unless," Abraxas spoke up hesitantly, "we rally around a new leader? A new Dark Lord?"

"You're suggesting that it should be you?"

"Do any of the rest of you have the spine to martial a Coup?" When no one answered, he sneered. "Thought not."

"But without Tom, how will we manage? He's always been the one with the vision. The one who taught us everything. Who directed us. You expect to be able to replace him?"

"I'm not even sure we should take you at your word." Lestrange said, crossing his arms and sitting back in his chair. "Sure, he may be letting his other head interfere with his thinking a little more than usual but that won't last forever. He'll get bored of Potter eventually, just like all the others. It's just sex."

"It's not just sex, that's what all of you are failing to understand!" Avery snarled, the table rattling beneath the assailment of his fists. "It started that way, but Tom's gotten too good at acting. He lost himself in his own charade and actually fell in love with Harry Potter!"

"You have proof?"

"I overheard them on Halloween, Mulciber! Right before they started snogging! He's given up on pursuing the ultimate power which one can find in the Darkness! He's become infected by Dumbledore's ideology! Is going to abandon us for that glasses-wearing runt! I'm not going to be cast aside after all that I've been promised and anyone of you who doesn't want to slip back into obscurity will follow me!"

The whispering around the table resumed. A low rumble of rushed words in hushed tones. And then, all at once, it went silent again.

"What are we going to do about them, Avery?"

"They plan to leave after school has let out; Hogwarts will be all but empty, then, and we'll catch them when they don't expect it."

"And what are we going to do with them once we do catch them?" Crab asked excitedly from where he sat. "Torture them?"

"No, we're not going to torture them; I swear, you're thicker than a concussed Troll!" Avery snarled. "Torturing them isn't enough. Not after how Tom has played us so completely. We're going to show him we're not as stupid or as gullible as he thinks we are; that we have learned from his lessons."

"Which ones?"

"Yeah, which ones? There were a lot."

"I think that ought to be fairly obvious." The other replied sharply. "After all, we all need more practice effectively casting Avada Kedavra."

"Are you going to actually eat that, or just toss it around like a miniature Quaffle?"

Tom's arm shot out to catch the orange inches before it hit the floor of the Slytherin common room, somehow managing to avoid capsizing himself from the couch that he was lying on through the use of some otherworldly grace which Harry would never understand. Nagini, comfortably coiled up on his stomach, hissed sleepily at being suddenly disturbed.

"Why?" He asked, sending him an up-ended and perfunctory glance over the end of the couch. "Does it bother you?"

Annoyed, Harry glared at the dark brunette over the top of his Charm's book. "Minorly." He admitted, not sure whether the admission would lead Tom to stop or push him to continue doing it. "It's a little bit distracting, after all, to hear the slapping sound caused by the Pratt across the room messing around with an orange when you're trying to focus on your homework."

"Oh, yes, I'd imagine that it would be. However, are you certain that the offending sound is caused by a fruit and not something 'fruity'?"

"I mean it, Riddle! I will throw this book at your fat head!"

"Oh, fine. But don't blame me when you're so easy to work up." Tom placed the orange on the floor and sent it rolling across the room, coming to rest against Harry's foot. "There, now I can't be a bother anymore."

"You'll find another way, I'm sure." The Brunet merely hummed and began to amuse himself by tracing the diamond pattern in Nagini's scales. "If you weren't going to eat it, why did you take it from dinner to begin with?"

"Just something to do with my hands; I don't do well without something to focus on. Idleness tends to bring out the more destructive facets of my personality."

"Don't you have homework?" Harry pushed aside the part of him which made note of the fact that he'd started to sound like Hermione.

"I finished all of it ages ago, Precious. The curse of genius." Tom settled more comfortably against the leather couch. "I suppose I could go to the library and borrow a book but I don't feel like walking up that many stairs."

"Where are the others? Surely one of them could entertain you until I'm finished with this."

"That's even more effort. Why are you even bothering?"

That was enough to make Harry lower his quill and look up at the other boy in concern. "Tom, are you feeling okay?"

"Smashing, why?"

"Because you just suggested that I not bother with my schoolwork. Behavior which would 'reflect poorly on my noble house'."

"Which isn't really yours since you're a Gryffindor." He pointed out calmly. "Not to mention that we'll be leaving here forever in just under four weeks. I've kept up with my schoolwork because such is in my nature, but-forgive me-it's fairly obvious that 'model student' isn't exactly written all over you."

Harry chose to ignore the mild slight and went back to writing. "Because, unlike you, I'm not a genius capable of getting all O's just by showing up. I want to be in Auror, remember; I need high marks."

"I'm sure they'd take you with straight T's. After all, you're going to be the one who defeated the Dark Lord."

"That's relying a bit too much on fame and luck."

"Maybe so." Tom reluctantly allowed. "In all seriousness, once you're finished we need to talk. About me. Or, rather, my persona for your world."

"I'll do my best to finish quickly, then. Stop interrupting."

The other boy remained dutifully silent from that point on, only speaking again once Harry began to roll up his parchment.

"I've decided to keep my father's name. Or, at least, his first name." He said softly. "Thomas is a very common name. You could probably throw a rock anywhere in the Western world and hit two or three people with it. Not only that, but it allows me to fly directly in the face of my future counterpart; the whole reason I took the alias of Voldemort was because I hated the fact that I bore the name of a Muggle. As for my surname, I'll take my mother's: Gaunt."

"You're keeping Marvolo?"

"I'm nixing the middle name completely; less to keep track of."

"Thomas Gaunt is what you're going with?"

"Tom, preferably, but yes." Gently lifting Nagini off of him and sitting up, he said "what story did you tell your friends before you left? Did you tell them anything at all?"

"That Dumbledore had sent me on a mission to locate someone hiding from both the Ministry of Magic and the Death Eaters because of their connection to Voldemort. And that's practically word for word."

"Kept things vague, didn't you Precious?" He said. "Though it's enough to work with; did you specify where you had to look for me?"

Harry shook his head.

"Here's the story, then. My mother's mother had a sister, and she was the mother of the Dark Lord. That way it's explained how I can speak Parseltongue and why I have heirlooms of Slytherin in my possession. I was born in Little Hangleton and my mother-fearing my tyrannical relative would come after me should he learn of the birth of another male Heir to Slytherin's line and not knowing of his fall-fled with me to Romania and raised me in a small cabin in the Hoia-Baciu Forest. I learned magic from her until she died when I was 14, at which point I continued learning from serpents and the texts that she'd left behind. This story has the added perk of providing an explanation as to why I am out of touch with the current events and trends of the time."

He pulled a small arm pillow out from behind his back and tossed it aside.

"Your side of the story shall be that you were staying in Cluj-Napoca when you received a trail from a serpent which led you to Nagini. After gaining her trust, she took you to me."

"You'll want me to research the city before we leave, Tom?"

He waved his hand dismissively. "Not necessary; you weren't there long and it didn't leave a lasting impact. All you know is that the forest was quite unsettling." Tom said. "Now, on to the matter of needing to conceal my appearance: I've almost finished perfecting a modified variation of the Disillusionment Charm. It'll be easier, not to mention have less side effects, then having to continuously take Polyjuice Potion."

"How will it be modified?" Harry couldn't help but be curious. Knowing Tom and his tendency to be rather flamboyant he was of half a mind to worry the results would draw more attention to him than doing nothing at all.

"Should things go as planned, only those who know what I look like- you, myself, my counterpart, Dumbledore and a handful of others who I'm sure are still alive in your time-will be able to see through it. Everyone else will find themselves unable to describe me in anything but the most general of terms; dark hair, dark eyes, that sort of thing." He said. "And it will be so subtle that they won't pick up on it unless it's pointed out. On another note along the vein of my being as unrecognizable as possible," he held up his wand, "I have a feeling that this is known to more people in your time then my real face is. I'll need to get a backup to use as Tom Gaunt; there's a branch of Olivander's in Hogs-Meade and if we leave now will make it there before it closes."

Harry got up from his position sitting on the rug in front of the fire, gathering his things as he did so. "I'll grab the cloak and the map and will be back down in a moment."

"I'll be ready to leave the moment that you return." Tom promised as Harry walked past him. Gently, he roused Nagini who had coiled back up on the cushion beside him. "Harry and I are going to run into Hogs-Meade in order to purchase another wand for me to assist in my disguise. We shouldn't be gone for longer than an hour."

"I shall expect you back by then, Master. Should I alert someone if you fail to return on time?"

"No, lovely. That won't be necessary." Hearing footsteps returning down the dormitory stairs, Tom rose from the couch and stretched his lissome form before turning to face the doorway. Moments later, Harry appeared in his field of view.

"You have money on you?"

"Of course, Precious. Though far from rich, I'm provided enough in my yearly fund to afford what I need." He said, stepping up to him and taking his corner of the cloak. "We should be going; don't want to have them close shop on us."

Slipping out of the Castle and across the grounds, the pair quickly made it to the gates and into Hogs-Meade. Harry had never really paid enough attention to the branch of Olivander's in the village to know where it was but Tom evidently did and took them both directly there. They made it to the door just as the shopkeeper-not Olivander, Harry noticed-had been about to close up.

"Students? This late on a night that isn't a scheduled visit to Hogs-Meade?" The man seemed shocked.

"We're sorry to bother you, Sir, but it's a bit of a matter of importance." Tom supplied smoothly as Harry leaned back against the door, content to allow the other to handle the situation on his own. "My boyfriend and I have a pressing quest of sorts we find ourselves forced to undergo over the course of winter break and I felt it appropriate that I procure a backup wand in the case of an accident occurring in which mine might be rendered unusable. Considering the fine workmanship of this establishment, I simply cannot patronize anywhere else. Might we request a moment of your time; it won't take long."

A moment passed before the wand maker sighed and beckoned him over. "Alright, but only because secondary wands are normally easier to pair. And if your Professors catch you out, I don't want to hear that this establishment has been linked to your misbehavior."

"Never, Sir. You have our word." Tom promised, producing his wand and handing it over. The wand maker examined it critically for a few moments before returning and shuffling away. He returned with three boxes, which he set on the counter in front of Tom.

"One of these should be passable for you, young man." He said, opening the first and holding it out to him. "Acacia, Unicorn Hair, 13 ¾ inches, nicely pliable."

Harry didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed when nothing explosive occurred when the other boy tested the wand.

"Try this one, then. Cyprus, Dragon Heartstring, 12 inches, unyielding."

Again, nothing.

The wand maker produced the third wand; both Harry and Tom looked at it in surprise. Deep mocha in tone, the handle had been decorated with detailed carvings of horned snakes coiling over themselves into a shape which resembled a Celtic knot. "This is a bit of a special wand; it's imported from a wand maker over in America known for supplying the students of Ilvermorny with reliable partners and isn't something you'd find in our Diagon Alley location. Olivander believes cores other than Dragon Heartstring, Unicorn Hair and Phoenix Feather to be inferior, you see." He said. "American Hornbeam, Horned Serpent Horn, 13 ½ inches, rather stiff."

"I think that I can work with this one." A wave of the imported wand and the Tulips in a nearby vase sprouted vicious teeth. "Yes, I think it's perfect. How much?"

"That will be five galleons." The man replied, quickly waving his own wand to defang the flowers as Tom handed over the money. "Now, if the two of you boys would please leave? I'm over hours already."

"Of course, Sir. Sorry again for bothering you." Boxed wand in hand, Tom led the way back out into the streets of the village. "It really is beautifully carved, isn't it?" He mused, turning the box slightly so that the carvings caught the light. "And nothing like my current wand, which is absolutely perfect for our purposes."

"I wasn't aware you were so attracted to pretty things, Tom."

"Of course I am. Why do you think I was attracted to you?"

He reached up and wrapped his scarf tighter around his face, half to hide his blush and half to fend off the cold. "Come on. It's starting to snow."

"Oh, all right. If you insist, Precious." Pushing the lid on the box back into place and slipping it into his pocket the dark brunette fell into step beside him. Gloved hand catching his as it moved towards the cloak hidden inside his robes. "Not yet; it's late and no one will see us anyway. Let's just walk for a little bit. Without the cloak."

"Want to clean the trophy room again so badly?"

"Oh, hush. We won't get caught. Let's enjoy ourselves a bit while we're out." Even after Harry relented his attempts to remove the cloak, Tom did not release his hold on him. Leading him along by the hand. "It's always so pretty when it starts to snow. As the land just begins to transition into the colder months and everything goes to sleep."

"I'm not the biggest fan of Winter."

Not because of the cold, but rather because of the holidays and the reminders they held of what he'd lost. Reading the underlying message, Tom squeezed his hand gently.

"Things will be different for us now. You'll see."

They waited until they reached the shadows of Hogs-Meade's gate before pulling out the cloak once more and melting into the darkness of the surrounding night.