Azrael hadn't wanted to build a magical school, not when he first created Ubik, it had been Tom who had said that it would be necessary.

Tom still didn't understand why Azrael had been so hesitant there when he had set up many other schools within Ubik without a second's thought. Perhaps it came down to his brand of magic versus the more conventional English style, perhaps he simply did not wish to teach so many students, it could be any number of things. Either way, when Tom had first suggested it, years ago Azrael had shortly said no and that was the end of it.

But in five years there were enough muggle born children or half taught children under other systems that it had become clear that some sort of magical education was necessary. Many had come to Ubik, had left their own societies in desperation, precisely because they had heard stories of a man so gifted it seemed as if he produced miracles.

Azrael had at first planned to hire faculty from abroad but he slowly came to realize that this was not what people wanted and that they would not come in the first place so, with a small entering class, Azrael would teach the first few years himself and then hire on faculty from his more promising students.

"I've never actually been a professor before." Azrael had admitted to Tom in a sort of stunned manner; as if he didn't quite believe it himself. "I've only ever taken one apprentice at a time and they were all very gifted in their own way before they ever came to me…"

"You might want to try being a little less philosophical and more practical." Tom had replied snidely earning something of an irritated glance from Azrael.

Regardless of doubt though, of uncertainty, Azrael planned to go through with it and sometimes when they were talking about the subject there'd be a small and tentative smile on his face. As if he was looking forward to a new experience.

At least, he had been until…

It was not the standing army that Black imagined but in retrospect it seemed there was no target more glaring than that magical school.

So Tom shouldn't have been surprised, should have expected it when Black had contracted his services, but all the same… All the same he hadn't even thought that they would stoop to that.

Tom would only learn what happened when Black came into their shared quarters in a frenzy, "You mudblood bastard, it didn't work!"

Tom had been sitting at the table, attempting to read a book, but his mind scattered and elsewhere thinking on current events; on Azrael. His thoughts were always drifting towards the emperor, a slow and poignant sort of motion, like the first flakes of snow on a cold winter's night. It was a distant feeling yet it lingered all the same and he couldn't quite manage to shake himself from it.

Tom startled and turned to face Black taking in his flushed cheeks and frantic expression, "What did you do?"

But Black wasn't looking at him, was glaring at nothing, and walked past Tom into his own room slamming the door without answering Tom's question. For a minute or so he waited for Black to return but there was no sign he was coming back and so Tom hesitantly stood, closed his book, and made his way to the door.

He opened it to the sight of Black, a suitcase, and a frenzy of desperate packing the likes of which Tom had never seen.

"I was shutting down that school, that magic school he was building, and you were supposed to get through the wards!" Black said harshly between haphazardly stuffing in books, posters, clothing, and whatever else would fit in the thing.

"What happened?" Tom repeated, his voice sounding dazed even to himself.

(And he'd wondered, for a moment, if it was as terrible as he'd thought it could be; if he hadn't just made some irreversible mistake.)

Black described the events tersely, between obscenities and packing, rushing the words together, "Well it was going all bloody fine at first but then the emperor walks up and…"

"I made it through the wards, you never told me the emperor himself would be there." Tom replied quickly, but if the emperor was there, if Azrael was there then it couldn't have gone too badly. For Britain yes, but no one was dead, nothing was truly destroyed only…

"Of course the bloody emperor was going to be there!" Black screamed before calming himself, letting the rage simmer quietly, "You can forget going back to Britain, I'll tell them about your little disappearing act, how you came out of nowhere…"

He was smiling as he said it, as if that was the only thing that was good about the situation, that Tom was going to be declared a spy and possibly sent to Azkaban or wherever it was traitors went.

There was no thought in it only the impulse but it had been one that he'd denied for the three years he had been working with Black. He brought his wand out and pointed it directly at the other man, leaving him to stare at it, at Tom with half-remembered fear.

"I am not responsible for your grievous mistakes." Tom said slowly, "And I have suffered your idiocy for too many years to tolerate it now."

"You wouldn't dare." Black stated but his eyes held more doubt than he wanted to show.

"Wouldn't I, Black?" Tom felt a smile creep onto his face, one that had been repressed for a very long time, since Tom had thought of becoming Voldemort, "I've never liked you. I hated you when you were an idiot schoolboy joking with his friends and living off your land and your wealth, and I hate you now. You think your blood, your money, your connections protect you but we're very far from Britain and you've screwed yourself over in ways I can't even begin to describe."

Tom held him there, under wandpoint, and thought how easy it would be to never have to deal with Orion Black again. It was the same as killing a rat, a flash of green light, a bit of conviction, and it was done.

Destruction, death, they were so very easy.

"So do it then." Black said, a small laugh escaping him, "Do it you slimy bastard…"

In Black's eyes Tom could see the beginning motions of the wand movement reflected and though Black was reaching for his own wand his movements were much too slow and they both knew it.

And then the wands were knocked out of both of their hands and they both turned from each other to face none other than the emperor of Ubik.

"It has been some time, hasn't it?" Azrael asked, a ghost of a smile on his lips, but his eyes were very dark and colder than Tom had ever seen them. For a moment he simply stood in the doorway to Orion Black's room, taking in the quidditch posters, the wrinkled clothing thrown into a single case, and said nothing. Then, with a slow deliberateness, he moved forward until he was standing between them.

"I'm sorry to interrupt but I'm afraid I have business to discuss with you gentlemen."

Both Black and Tom said nothing to this. Black slowly collapsed onto the bed, his face turning a terrible shade of white and it seemed as if he couldn't look away from Azrael; his hands were shaking and he made no attempt to hide it.

Tom, for his own part, could only stand there and watch.

It was the first time Tom had seen him since he had left that room and though it had not been all that long ago he felt as if it had somehow been longer than those months in his fifth year. When he looked at Tom it was as if all feeling, all familiarity, had been stripped from him so that all that remained was the cold.

Tom felt that there should be something to say, something worth saying, but he couldn't think of anything. "I'm sorry", seemed pointless and almost petty; so there was nothing to say.

"I'm afraid you are no longer welcome here." Azrael said, "From this day on the nation of Ubik is cutting the few ties we have with Magical Britain. There will be no more embassy, visas, or any form of travel or communication. We will not import your products and in turn you will have no access to ours; this is the end for us."

He eyed them both for a moment, many things left unsaid in his gaze, and then quietly he added, "I would suggest you start packing quickly."

Black laughed, breaking into hysterics as he placed his head into his hands, wiping the cold sweat from his brow, "That's all? You're just deporting us? That's all you're going to do?"

Azrael offered him a somewhat bitter smile, "Yes, Mr. Black, that is all I am going to do."

Black stood, brushing off his clothing, still laughing and shaking his head, "And they said you were fearsome… You're really nothing but a pushover, aren't you?"

Azrael's eyes narrowed and a spark of irritation flickered within them, "No one is dead, the building is restored, and you are little more than a child. My people and I have nothing to benefit from your death and imprisonment, go home Mr. Black."

Then Azrael turned from Black to Tom, and his eyes were like knives, "And you too, Mr. Riddle."

He had wondered if this might happen, when he had been working on Orion's problem, had thought it could. He'd imagined what this moment, that expression on his face, might look like but all the same…

All the same, Tom had never felt like this before.

Not even when he had killed the basilisk, not even when he had realized that Voldemort meant nothing, he had never felt this empty.

"I hope you've packed enough."

It was as if they were words in a book, or a play, too far removed from him to be real. It wasn't until he began feeling the pulls of apparition, until Azrael turned to look at him and offered him one final enigmatic smile, that Tom realized he was leaving at all.

"Goodbye for now, my friend."

And then neither Tom nor Black were in Ubik.

An almost distant memory from only a few years before.

There had been lightheartedness in his step, in spite of obstacles, there had been a smile on his face. He had been travelling outside of the city, determined to get away from work for a day, although he wasn't sure quite where he was going. Only that it would be further than he had ever gone in Ubik before.

"Happy birthday, Tom."

He turned in surprise and there was Azrael smiling at him warmly.

"Why must you appear out of nowhere like that?" Tom asked and Azrael only shrugged.

"What's the point of being a mysterious emperor if you aren't allowed to be mysterious?" Azrael said before brushing off his own joking comment by asking, "So, Tom how does it feel to be twenty?"

Tom sighed, looking out at his surroundings, "Oh, much the same as being nineteen or even eighteen I suppose. Nothing all that grand about it."

Azrael looked as if he had something to say to that, some words of wisdom to impart, but he shook his head and asked some other question instead, "So, Tom, any idea where you're going?"

Tom looked out in the direction he had been heading, nothing remarkable about it, a path towards the mountains and past the lake. The only new thing was that it was further than he had walked before, he had never strayed too deeply into the Ubiquitous wilderness.

"Well, there aren't any other cities on this planet besides the one, is there?" Tom asked and Azrael nodded in affirmation, that there was only the one city of Ubik that was becoming more and more densely populated over the years.

"Then I have no idea." Tom concluded and resumed walking this time Azrael joining him.

"Hm," Azrael said after some time, "You know, I don't think I've travelled that far around the planet either. Well, not as Ubik at any rate."

Tom's eyebrows raised, since the whole planet was made in Azrael's image, it was hard to believe he hadn't seen all of it first.

"It's true," Azrael responded to his expression, "Most of this, these are spun from magic or else dreams and visions, it doesn't mean I've seen all of it for myself. I haven't had the time."

"Well, then, some day you and I will have to see it together." Tom found himself saying, looking away from Azrael, feeling a blush creeping across his cheeks. And just when he'd thought he'd gotten over physical reactions like this; it was still mortifying.

When he did manage to look back at Azrael he was greeted with a very kind smile, a tender smile, and Azrael said, "Yes, we will."

"Do you know where you're going, Tom?"

Author's Note: And thus ends the Ubik arc of the story, oh the feels, this also means we're about halfway through of what I have planned. I think this is a cause for celebration, one day this fic will be finished!

To those of you who want more of Tom's angsty surrealism in your life check out "The End of Things" or don't if you're uninterested.

Thank you to readers and reviewers, you guys are great, reviews are much appreciated.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter