With love, Harry

Summary:

In which Harry goes back in time, adopts his arch nemesis and pulls one infamous Dark Lord into his madness somewhere along the way.

"Surprise! Tom, meet your grandfather!"

"Harry. That's Gellert Grindelwald."

"I know. Isn't it exciting!? And he'll be tutoring you to be the greatest Dark Lord ever!"

"What?"

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling is the boss of it all.

Warning: Grammar, perhaps?

A/N: A chapter in which a very cliché scene ensues.

Nine

Tom, with a wave of magic, flicked away the measuring tape that lingered a little too long around his neck.

Undeterred by him, the tape simply drifted downwards to encircle his waist.

A few seconds passed before the tail of the tape tapped on the floating parchment and quill next to it, stirring the items to immediately take down numbers. Tom wore a pinched expression; this whole process was such wastage of time.

Harry had a few items he needed to pick up so he had asked Tom to go ahead and get his measurements done while waiting for him.

"I'll be real quick, I promise."

So here he was now, in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions; a store, which Tom had discerned, was where students of Hogwarts usually came to for getting their robes fitted.

"Why is he getting special treatment?" A snobbish voice cut through Tom's thoughts. "How come the rest of us have to be attended to by witches while he doesn't need to?"

"Young master Malfoy," the young witch who had been tending to the boy spoke up, "he had specifically requested for the premium service."

(Tom had only repeated what Harry had instructed him to, really.)

"Premium service?" The boy, pale in complexion with light blond hair, asked with a frown. "And my mother did not ask of the same for me?"

"Lady Malfoy did not."

There was a pause before the boy spoke up again. "What family does he come from that he requires a premium service for his school robes?"

"I'm afraid I do not know." The witch replied.

"Hmph."

Tom paid no attention to the other, his only thought being fixed upon when Harry would arrive. So he was mildly amused when he suddenly found the blond boy standing in front of him, arms crossed over his chest and chin held high.

"Young master Malfoy!" The witch who had been tending to him exclaimed in alarm, snatching back the pins that were at risk of poking the young boy's skin.

The boy ignored the witch, his gaze firmly fixed on the dark haired boy before him. "Who are you?"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Who are you?"

"Abraxas Septimus Malfoy." The boy replied in an instant with a sniff. "But surely, you would have already known who I was."

"I know the Malfoys." Tom simply brushed off with an air of disinterest, turning his attention to the measuring tape that had encircled his wrists with delicate care.

"But not you."

The witch attendant who had understood the untold words flinched while the blond boy remained blissfully ignorant.

Abraxas frowned at the nonchalance. He was, after all, used to people fawning over him once they knew who he was.

The bells above the store's door chimed as a customer stepped in. Tom looked up but was disappointed on seeing a noble lady (whose graceful features morphed into a look akin to horror as she registered the scene before her) rather than Harry.

Lady Malfoy gave a light gasp.

Her son, away from the fitting stand; his robes dragging on the floor as he stood poised in front of another boy while the witch attendant was on his heel, trying to coerce him into going back to the fitting stand.

This was unbecoming of a Malfoy!

"Abraxas!"

"Mother." The boy startled as he turned to face the woman who had just stepped in. He turned a shade paler on seeing the dark glint in her eyes; she was angry alright.

"What are you doing?" She asked with a sharp edge to her tone.

"I was," Abraxas began slowly as his mind quickly search for the right words that would not further incur his mother's wrath upon him, "I was wondering why I, a Malfoy, was not assigned to the premium service."

(The change in his mother's expression told him he had very well succeeded in his task. The family name surely did work its magic most of the times.)

The witch attendant looked as though she wanted to shrink into herself and disappear. If an argument were to break out while she was on duty, Madam Malkin would surely have her thrown out!

She stuttered. "W-We can always switch services, Young master Malfoy."

"You're only fitting for your school robes." Lady Malfoy cut the witch off, a frown adorning her features.

"Indeed, mother." He nodded in reply before gesturing to the dark haired boy behind him. "And so is this boy. But in premium service." Abraxas continued after a slight pause for a more dramatic effect. "And I doubt he is as well known of a pureblood as the Malfoys."

Abraxas's underlying message got through to everyone present in the store.

Why him and not me?

Tom's lips quirked up in a smirk.

It was amusing how the boy before Tom had actually acknowledged him as a pureblood without even confirming his status.

Well, Tom Riddle did exude the aura of an aristocrat in the first place.

What left an impression on Tom, however, was how the Malfoy boy not only diverted his mother's attention but also very likely scored himself a premium service treatment after indirectly pressuring his mother.

It was smart and unlike a response most children of his age were likely to come up with.

Well played, Tom thought.

"You said we could switch services?" Lady Malfoy turned to face the witch attendant.

The witch furtively nodded her head. "It can be arranged for immediately."

"Please do so," Lady Malfoy said, "and may I have a word with Madam Malkin?"

"I will call for the madam." The witch replied as she hurriedly went over to the counter and pressed the head of the raven statue placed on it. The sound of a faint bell could be heard ringing from somewhere deep within the shop. "She will be here in an instant. Please, have a seat my Lady."

At the request, one of the chairs that were placed in the corner drifted over and settled itself behind Lady Malfoy. The lady gave a small nod before seating herself down.

"Young master Malfoy," the witch attendant gestured to the fitting stand that magically laid itself out next to Tom's, "please."

Abraxas shed the outer robe that had been in the midst of being fitted and got up the platform. He wore a look of satisfaction as the magical equipment set off to work in an instant.

He turned to Tom who seemed to be almost through with his fitting. "You never told me your name."

"Tom Marvolo Riddle." The dark haired boy replied as he watched the other from the corner of his eyes, waiting to gouge his reaction.

The blond boy's mouth slightly fell open in surprise before he quickly shut it. He cleared his throat. "Oh, that...that is not a very—"

"Pureblood name?"

Abraxas wore a pinched expression as he wondered how to go about with the conversation. "Yes."

"It isn't." Tom simply replied, seeming unbothered.

Abraxas eyebrows furrowed. "Are you perhaps a half-blood then? Not that I mean to be rude—"

"And if I were to be a mudblood?"

The blond boy stiffened and Tom's eyes shone like that of a predator.

Malfoy was, however, saved from answering when the door was suddenly thrown open as someone rushed in. "Oh, Tommy, I didn't mean to delay but issues kept on popping up one after the other. I hate the bank sometimes, nice goblins or not."

Abraxas soon found his attention fixed on to the newcomer who looked as though he'd flown through a storm on a broomstick what his raven black hair all tousled about. The Malfoy couldn't help but appreciate the man's startling green eyes as he observed him.

"The bank?" Tom raised a brow.

"I had some paperwork to attend to." The man sighed. He paused, seeming to belatedly realize that he wasn't the only customer aside from Tom and the attendants present.

"I'm done." Tom said as he stepped down from the fitting platform. "Will we be heading back home now?"

Home? Abraxas's eyes widened. Could this young man be his father!?

"My, my, don't be so impatient." The man chuckled as he affectionately ruffled Tom's hair. "You're almost like Septhis with that attitude. Hold on, I need to give a few more instructions with regard to your robes."

"Mister Mortimer," Madam Malkin who had just stepped out from the backroom wore a bright smile as she greeted the man, "it's good to see that you're doing well."

"Why the formalities Margareta, I've always asked you to call me Harry." The man beamed at her.

"You're a prized customer of mine; it would be impolite of me to address you so casually." She replied then gestured one of the free seats. "Why don't you have a seat for now? I have to attend to Lady Malfoy first."

"Malfoy?" Harry's eyes widened as he turned around to face the noble lady who had been sitting on a chair behind him this whole time. "Ah," he brought a hand up to cover his mouth, "forgive me for being so rude. I was simply surprised to— that— well, I never expected that I would be meet one of the Sacred Twenty Eight I've heard so much about anytime soon."

Lady Malfoy rose from her seat, a well-practiced smile on her face. "Ah, and you must be the Harry Mortimer much talked about in Diagon Alley." She offered her hand. "I am Rachelle Adeline Malfoy."

"Much talked about?" Harry perked an eyebrow as he took her hand. "Yes, I am Harry Mortimer; no fancy middle name, sorry."

"I think it was a year ago, a day before Yule, when all the well-known eatery establishments in the whole street had temporarily closed," Lady Malfoy supplied, "because one Harry Mortimer had hired the entire staff to cook up a grand feast."

Abraxas snapped his head to look at Tom on hearing a muttered, "I did tell him that inviting the giants for dinner was a terrible idea."

"Giants?" Abraxas echoed.

Tom just raised a brow at him with an unimpressed expression.

"Sorry," Abraxas turned his head away, feeling a little irked.

"Ah, that Yule." Harry laughed nervously. "Well, Yule is a very good time to feast, though I might have gone a little too overboard that one time."

"Did you host the feast with other families?" Lady Malfoy asked, curious because hiring staff of nineteen different high-classed diners was not something easy on one's finance.

"No." Harry laughed. "It was just my family. I tend to be very extravagant sometimes."

"I did hear the Mortimer's are a rather old pureblood line from the regions of Ireland that do not fall under the British Wizarding World." Lady Malfoy nodded, as though her doubts with regard to the other's wealth had been cleared. "Have you resettled in Britain just recently?"

"Not really." Harry replied. "We just stick around for my son; he'll be attending Hogwarts this year."

"Oh," Lady Malfoy looked mildly surprised, "so is my son."

"Your son?" Harry turned, actually taking in the appearance of the boy next to Tom this time.

"Abraxas Septimus Malfoy." Abraxas greeted him.

Merlin, that's Lucius and Draco, merged together as one!

Harry was still in a daze before Tom elbowed him. "Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry, I just remembered something— ah, right, Abraxas Septimus Malfoy!"

"It is great pleasure to make an acquaintance of you, Mister Mortimer."

Harry beamed. "What a sweet boy," he said, "will you be attending Hogwarts this year too?"

Abraxas gave a nod, feeling rather taken aback at the sudden burst of fondness. "Yes."

"So is my son, Tommy, here." Harry brightened while said son looked almost pained. "Please take care of him during your stay at Hogwarts. You see, he's still not well accustomed to your wizarding world."

"Ah," Abraxas seemed at a loss of words.

"Of course," Lady Malfoy replied on behalf of her son, "Abraxas would do well with a friend his age. All the children he is acquainted to are either a year above him or younger."

"I can promise you that Tom will take equally good care of him." Harry seemed delighted. He turned to his son. "Look Tom, Papa's got you a new friend! Isn't this exciting?"

Tom simply shot him a deadpan look. "Very."

Oh Merlin.

"No, Harry." Sanguini shook his head. "They don't allow guardians to drop off their wards up to the dorms. But like I said, I'll be fine."

"Septhis and I can go in with you, they wouldn't even know—"

"If this is how you're reacting with this brat leaving, I don't want know how much drama you're going to stir up when Tom leaves," Septhis made a rather abrupt appearance behind Harry, smacking the male's head as he did, "in two days' time."

"But this is no joking matter!" Harry spluttered as he nursed the back of his head. "He's going to be walking into a den filled with stone-faced, fur wearing military like men!"

"There are also females—"

"Who, I will have you know, will be very much the same."

"Do you have something against Durmstrang, Harry?" Clymene laughed as she entered the room.

"No." He huffed as he eyed her arms. "Well, not really."

In her arms was a special hand woven fur collared cloak make of the softest material the elves generously provided for. "It took me a little longer than expected, but I finally managed to get it done." She smiled fondly as she draped the cloak over the young vampire's shoulders. "Look at how perfectly it fits him!"

Harry's worries were momentarily forgotten about as he gasped in delight and placed his hands on Sanguini's sides. "You've grown to be very handsome." He told the boy with all sincerity. "And you look very much the part of a noble vampire, the best your race could ever bring forth."

"Thank you, Harry." Sanguini preened at the praise.

"Where's Tommy anyway?" Clymene asked, tearing her eyes away from the rather adorable scene before her as she turned to Septhis.

"In his bedroom." The pale man replied. "Or perhaps even the library."

"I hope he doesn't skip the part of seeing Sanguini off." She hummed. "That would make Harry unhappy."

"Is this your attempt at subtly asking me to go fetch the boy?" Septhis asked with his tone laced in irritation.

"No, Septhis." Clymene felt her eyebrow twitch. "This is my attempt at trying to hold a conversation with you but seeing how grumpy you are today, I apologize for even trying."

The pale man rolled his eyes.

He wasn't grumpy; he had just woken up on the wrong side of the bed no thanks to Harry's mindless worry being the first thing he had to hear this morning.

"Where's Tom?" Harry suddenly asked, his question jolting both Clymene and Septhis from the beginnings of another banter.

"See." Clymene whispered almost harshly at the pale man.

As if on cue, the doors to the living room opened and in strode the little Dark Lord. "You called for me?" The boy coolly asked.

"Were you reading in the library again?" Harry's lips quirked up in a smile as he greeted his son.

Tom nodded.

"I didn't think you would come." Sanguini greeted him, a trace of suspicion in his dark eyes.

Tom scoffed. "And have you whining over it for the rest of your life? I'm doing this as a favor for myself." The boy then paused, seeming a little hesitant before shoving something into the vampire's hands. "Here."

The vampire was not the only one surprised by Tom's sudden generosity; even Septhis who usually chose to remain aloof to their interactions (he stopped giving a fuck after the seventh time they blew up the dueling room) seemed intrigued if the way he inconspicuously craned his neck to eye the gift was anything to go by.

Harry gave a gasp of pleasant surprise. "You got him a present!"

His son bristled at his words. "It's not really a present." He denied.

(Septhis's expression darkened when he recognized the tome Tom had just gifted the young vampire— one that was of very alarming and questionable content, straight from Tom's personal collection, of course.)

"T-Thank you." Sanguini still seemed stunned.

"No need to thank me." Tom replied before leaning in so that his next words would only be heard by the vampire. "This is just to make sure you do not sully Harry's name."

The warmth in Sanguini's eyes still remained even though he straightened up and put on a cold front. He sneered. "Why, I should be the one reminding you of it instead."

Tom only smirked.

"Ah, right," Sanguini paused as he removed the silver chain bracelet he always wore round his wrist. He handed it over to the taller boy with a pleasant smile. "It melts the skin of anyone who tries to harm you— and can go even to the extent of burning any wretched brat's hand right off. But just make sure you don't get caught in the act of doing so. The last thing we'd need is having you being expelled from Hogwarts."

"Does the term 'wretched brat' apply to you as well?"

"Thankfully, not. This was forged for my family's use."

"A shame." Tom said as he accepted the chain which magically slid to wrap itself round his wrist when he did. His eyes bore a dark and interested glint that betrayed his nonchalant manner. "But convenient anyway, thank you."

Harry was inwardly relieved. Septhis had once told him the two weren't always in the best of terms with each other, so he had been worried when Tom hadn't shown up. But it seemed that they somehow got along in their own way. At least.

Well, anything was better than nothing.

"What time does the portkey activate?" Tom asked.

"At noon—" Harry startled from his sweet reverie when he realized he wasn't keeping track of the time.

"Just three minutes left." Septhis intervened before the green eyed male could lose his shit again.

"I wouldn't be able to tag along. I never favored travel by portkeys." Clymene apologized. She pulled the young vampire into a deep hug (the two of them had grown somewhat attached over the past year; Tom called it a "creature thing"). "You take care, parvulus*."

(*parvulus: little one, in Latin)

"You should know I never even had the intention of coming along in the first place." Tom bluntly said. He met Sanguini's eyes with all seriousness. "Remember not to be a disgrace."

"Of course," was all he replied as he took a step towards Harry and deliberately took his time to slowly wrap his fingers around the green eyed male's hand. All while wearing a smug smile. "See you during the winter."

Septhis gripped Harry's arm with one hand and the portkey (the Durmstrang crest) on the other. He gave a nod to the little Dark Lord and the nymph. "We'll be back soon."

(Which translated to Septhis-speak for, "Just because I won't be around to keep an eye on you doesn't mean you can go ahead and cause a ruckus.")

"Tommy, remember not to get too absorbed with your readings and please eat on time!" Harry hurriedly gushed out his share of instruction. "And also, keep in mind that I—"

"Time's up." Septhis drawled.

BANG!

The three were gone in a bright flash.

A/N: Next chapter update will be earlier that all of my other updates, this much I can assure you, lol. Also, Mr. Grindelwald makes an appearance again.

Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, Gurgaraneth, Atemptingtowrite, Madame Bibliophile, Roostertheking, SuperApplePie, D C JoKeR H S, Yana5, CeciliaP, Krysania, THE Crazy person and ninjaaa0006; and to all who put this fic up in your favorites and follow lists! :')

Thank you for reading! :')

[Edit: 22-02-2019] just one more chapter to edit *dry wheezing*, yay me. My friend called out on me for not keeping to what I promise, you know, the whole updates everyday /hides behind a brick wall. WELL, I'M SORRY.

And thank you for reading/giving this a try! ^^

Also, thank you sousie, Gurgaraneth and LadyDayri for leaving reviews in the prev chap! :')