Come Together Chapter 17 - Penance

AN:

Tom: takes out his pocket watch and taps it meaningfully

Oni: I KNOW! I KNOW!

Oni: Also 1000 followers?! Holy cow guys! Thank you all so much for your love and support!

There was a kind of quiet chatter around him. In all his life (well, perhaps when he was a very young boy) Tom Marvolo Riddle had never quite thought he would ever stand here, in this place, for what was about to transpire. The gargantuan room was filled with people, the acoustics of the walls echoing every small sound. For some reason he found it funny that the rich carpet and the cushion he kneeled upon were the same rich crimson the Gryffindors sported. The part of him that still adhered heavily on his Slytherin house pride balked at the idea of becoming a Lion, but the other half was almost childlike in glee and excitement.

Here he was, kneeling before the King of England. Bloody hell. How on Earth did his life take a turn to where he ended up here?

"Major Tom Marvolo Riddle." King George VI greeted, looking down in all his royal regalia with a smile, "For your actions above and beyond the call of duty, I bequest to you our highest honor, the Victoria Cross."

Tom felt his breath hitch a bit as a medal was hung around his neck, a kind of weight hanging from him that was more than just the metal. He looked up to the King, who gave a minute motion for him to stay put, causing a wave of confusion to internally course through him. Thankfully, his face was as impassive as ever, even as his heartbeat quickened when King George was handed a sword. Could it be…?

"The people have taken to calling you by a different title, Major Riddle. It is about time we made that title official in the eyes of the Crown."

It was almost like a dream. He held himself perfectly still as one shoulder was tapped, and then the other. Like a knight. Like a…

"Rise, Lord Voldemort."

The Leaky Pot was in full swing tonight. Nobby had healed enough from his injuries to attend as a patron instead of tending to the bar, his recovery celebrated by all of them. Monty, Feemie, and Alastor had also decided to join the gathering, and the group sat around the large (and crowded) table in the back of the pub. Drinks of both muggle and magical origin were poured, toasts were made, and stories of the past and of the battle in the HYDRA headquarters were exchanged.

"And so this one guy drops his wand when I come barreling through all of his spells..." Dum Dum continued, making the motion of tackling an invisible man to show emphasis, "Fella didn't even know what hit 'em!"

Nobby listened with rapt attention, his eyes sparkling as his mind's eye most likely pictured the tales unfolding. Other soldiers had also gathered around the group, intent on listening to the tales regaled by the infamous Howling Commandos. One in particular, an older gentleman whose uniform denoted him as a lieutenant, had paid suspiciously close attention to the story every time the tale turned to Tom's involvement. He seemed awfully familiar, but for the life of him Tom couldn't pinpoint where he had seen the man before. For a moment the rowdiness around him seemed to dull as his mind once again slipped into a fog (unnoticed by Tom himself) trying to recall the memory that would tell him the soldier's identity.

"Something catch your eye?" James Falsworth murmured from beside him, eyes flickering over to the lieutenant that Tom was blatantly staring at.

When Tom didn't reply, the fellow Howling Commando had grabbed the young wizard by the shoulders and gave a rough shake. This seemed to do the trick, snapping him out of the daze that had been a sad side effect of the long duration he had suffered under the Cruciatus curse (that he had managed to control with Monty and Feemie's potions). When his eyes were once more sharp and focused, he realized he not only had the attention of Falsy, but the mysterious man as well.

"What's got your attention, Tom?" Falsy repeated.

"That man seems familiar, but I cannot place him." Tom whispered back with a sigh, regarding the man that was now beckoning him over, "I suppose I should see what he wants."

With a nod the Commando let him go, sending him off with a lift of his drink (which was subsequently downed). A sigh, inaudible amongst the buzz around him, escaped his throat. If he was an enemy hidden in plain sight, Alastor would have noticed by now. Standing up from his place at the table, Tom made his way over to the older man.

"I'm sorry for your loss." was the first thing out of the lieutenant's mouth, though the man was looking somewhere over Tom's shoulder, "It's painful, losing family to a monster."

Tom nodded slowly, carefully hiding away his confusion and suspicion. The lieutenant motioned for Tom to sit down opposite of him, and stared hard at the young Major when he did.

"You probably don't remember me." the lieutenant continued, "I'm not surprised. The circumstance of which we first met wasn't a happy one. The next time... well, I watched you fight alongside us for our country, our future."

Tom blinked. Obviously there was something he was missing.

"Confused?" the lieutenant asked wryly, "Let me tell you a story. There once was a man who lived in London. He married a wonderful woman and had a beautiful baby girl, but one day a woman dressed in strange clothes came to the man's house and told him that his baby girl, now a strong-headed ten year old, wasn't like the man and his wife. His daughter was a witch, and she was going to go off on her own to a magical boarding school called Hogwarts. The man couldn't be more proud, and even when he was shipped off to war, he thought of his little girl riding on a train to Hogwarts, making friends and casting spells with her new magic wand."

As the lieutenant's story progressed, Tom's blood began to run cold. He tried to keep his face as blank as possible, hiding the trepidation he felt.

"Then, one day, the man gets a letter from the school. Now, this school never sent letters home to families without magic, so the man became worried. He was right to, for the school had delivered him news that his daughter was dead. Killed by the mysterious 'Slytherin monster', awakened by the 'Heir of Slytherin'. The man was allowed leave on a lucky technicality, and he and his wife were taken to the school they never got to see to pick up the body of their daughter. And what did the man see? His little girl, at the young age of fourteen, eyes glossy and skin pallid. Dead. And the killer was never found. The real one anyway. Anyone could tell that giant kid couldn't hurt a fly. All the man and his wife got were empty condolences, empty promises. No true justice for my baby girl... my Myrtle."

Lieutenant Warren (for that was who he was) narrowed his eyes at Tom, ablaze with anger. But, as soon as it was there, the fiery rage was gone, and instead a kind of empty resignation was in its place.

"But imagine my surprise when my wife and I got home to find my daughter, translucent on the couch, complaining about a girl in her class. An Olive Hornby. At first I thought 'that must be the one who killed her', but then Myrtle had described a boy with an unusually high voice. Now, the giant boy had a deep voice, so he was right out. But then I remembered such a voice telling me how sorry he was for my loss. It was what led me to find the real monster, but imagine my surprise when I'm told that Tom Riddle, my daughter's killer, had gone missing. And then imagine my surprise again when I heard you'd joined the army."

"I..."

"I must admit," Lieutenant Warren interrupted, "when I heard I was to meet you again I wanted to kill you. Tear you into pieces just like how seeing her dead body tore my heart. But the man I met in the Alps was not the boy who had given empty platitudes in the castle my daughter died in. The universe had intervened, divine justice for my little girl, who still floats around the house and talks about her schoolmates as if they were all out to get her. The universe killed the monster that had killed my daughter, and someone else, a man, stood in his place."

This time it was clear that Myrtle's father had finished speaking, and Tom took a deep, shuddering breath as he regarded the tired man. His words almost seemed as if he was trying to convince himself of this fact as much as he was trying to convince Tom. The noise around them seemed to blur into an incomprehensible mess, somehow creating a sense of silence between them.

"I am still a monster, Lieutenant Warren." Tom replied quietly, "And today I can say to you that I am truly sorry for killing your daughter. I've realized how much I've sinned, and I know that now I must repent for them."

A dry chuckle escaped the lieutenant.

"Sounds like the Captain really got through to you." Lieutenant Warren said wryly before planting his hands on Tom's shoulders, staring deep into Tesseract blue eyes. "Now we've both lost, and we're both sorry for that loss. In the end, both the monsters who killed the ones we loved are also dead."

"I... don't understand." Tom began slowly, "What are you trying to say?"

"That you're not the same boy as the one who killed my daughter. In the end, he died because he has changed and no longer exists." Lieutenant Warren murmured solemnly, before taking a deep, shuddering breath, "I'm saying that I forgive you, Major Riddle."

Tesseract blue eyes blinked in non-comprehension, staring at the man he had wronged years ago like he was completely mad. What kind of a man would forgive something like that without asking for recompense?

"I..." Tom tried to begin again, but the man was not finished.

"However," the lieutenant added, his eyes steely and hard, "That being said, I do have a request. You said that you wanted to repent your sins. Well, now I'm giving you the chance to do just that."

Ah, that was much better. Tom did not visibly relax, but his mind stopped feeling slightly confused. He met Lieutenant Warren's gaze, Tesseract blue eyes resigned against the unyielding brown. From what he had been talking about in his tale, it was obvious that he still held a heavy grudge, and this wasn't something light. He'd killed this man's daughter, after all. He was honestly expecting a 'burn in hell' or even a gun pulled to his face. Still, he waited for the grieving father's request.

"Turn yourself in, Riddle."

A moment passed between them as the words sunk into Tom's mind. Then Tom shut his eyes and took a deep breath, collecting himself for his answer. When his gaze met the older man's again, he spoke in a determined voice.

"Yes, sir."

A chance to repent his sins. Not just against Myrtle, but against all those he hurt that day. By turning himself in he cleared the name of another he once framed. He didn't know what consequences he would face, but he would face them with dignity. Lieutenant Warren was right. He was different from the child full of hate he was years ago. And it was time to prove it.

"Good." was the tired reply, as if the man half-expected Tom to have said 'no'.

In one fluid motion, Lieutenant Warren downed the last of his drink, standing up from his seat, and Tom did the same. Perhaps they would see each other again. Perhaps he would allow him to apologize to Myrtle in person. But they weren't there yet. Not for some time. The young Major turned to leave.

"Oh, and Major Riddle?" came the lieutenant's voice again.

Tom barely had the chance to fully turn to the older man before he felt a sharp pain as Lieutenant Warren's fist collided squarely with his face. Taken by surprise, Tom reeled back. Luckily Dum Dum had been making his way over to talk to his fellow Commando and was able to catch him. The Commandos and a couple of blokes around the bar who saw the altercation leapt to their feet in anger, but Tom held his hand up to tell them to back off.

"Leave him be." he grunted, feeling the cartilage in his nose reset, "I deserved it."

From within his coat pocket, jostled by the sudden movement, a sleepy George slithered out to see what was going on.

"What did I misssss?"

"Going so soon?"

Margaret "Peggy" Carter and Howard Stark looked up to the voice that echoed through the nearly empty facility of the Strategic Scientific Reserve in London. They had known, in some way, that this day was to come eventually. The London Headquarters had existed only because of the war, and now that the war was over the American agents and otherwise affiliates were homeward bound. Howard gave something akin to a half-grimace as he turned to the kid he watched grow into a man in the span of almost two years.

"C'mon, kid." Howard groaned good-naturedly, slapping the much-taller teen (goodness, even now, he was still 18) on the back, "It's not like I envisioned myself in London forever, although I'm kind of surprised Peg's coming along too."

With both men facing her now, Peggy rolled her eyes. "The SSR still has need of me, I'm afraid. Someone has to make sure the place doesn't catch on fire, especially if we've got Howard on board."

"Really? And they appointed you?" Tom shot back with a raised eyebrow.

"Well obviously they wouldn't ask the man who could conjure a giant fire-snake by waving a stick to do it." she sniped back with a quirk of her lips.

Tom rolled his eyes in response, but he seemed to understand. Although even now it was sometimes difficult for Peggy to tell what was going on in that brain of his. Silence stretched between the three of them as they packed up the remainder of the papers and gear. Most of the agents have already hopped on a plane back to the States. Perhaps the reason she and Howard had lingered back was because of the young man currently lifting boxes of papers with his hands despite the fact that he could easily levitate them with his magic.

"Yanno, there's still room for one more on the plane to New York." Howard stated, breaking the oppressing silence as he leaned against the barren wall of the empty underground chamber.

Peggy knew he would deny the offer even before Tom shook his head. He wasn't ready yet, probably wouldn't be for a while. New York wouldn't be the destination of 'home' for him without…

Without them.

It still made a lump form in her throat at the thought. Such a thing was still fresh in all of their minds. It wasn't something that could be drowned with medals or honors. But they weren't the only people Peggy lost in the war. She knew how to carry on, to move forward step by step.

"I can't." the teen sighed out tiredly, running a hand through his dark locks after depositing the last box on the truck, "I still have some loose ends to tie up here. I don't know how long it will take, or where I will end up because of it. This won't be the last you see of me, though. You won't be able to be rid of me that easily." he ended with a half-smile.

Brown eyes looked up at Tesseract blue, at the person she'd dare say she considered a kind of little brother (after the loss of Michael, perhaps it was just her way of coming to terms with it? She wasn't quite sure herself). Despite towering above her, with his eyes he almost looked vulnerable. With everything they had gone through together, it was hard to say goodbye.

She hit his forearm with her fist, a wry smile on her face. "Come visit as soon as you can."

"Only if you both promise not to die on me before I get there." Tom retorted with a more genuine smirk.

"Ugh, what is it with you Brits?" Howard groaned, marching over and grabbing the both of them in a one-armed hug on either side, "Bring it in! Ah, I'm gonna miss you guys. I'll send you a postcard so you don't get lonely."

"On that note," Peggy began with a mischievous glint in her eye, straightening up, "I'll make sure to read it before lovingly tossing it in the bin."

"And good luck getting an address for me, I have no clue where I'm bunking in the future. The Leaky Cauldron won't keep me for long." Tom added with a matching glint as he and Peggy exchanged looks, taking their cue to leave with their dignity still intact. Howard raised his arms in the air dramatically in return before stepping in pace with Peggy.

With nothing more than a salute and a smile, the three that once were five parted ways.

He'd be honest, it was actually quite daunting to be sitting in the 'Accused' chair in Courtroom 7 of the Ministry of Magic, looking up at all the Wizengamot officials gathered around. Despite that, it was obvious that most of them were confused about why they were there in the first place, and why on Earth was the war hero that had rid them of Grindelwald being accused of something?

Near the podium where the Minister stood was none other than Nobby, who had gotten a job at the Ministry not all that long ago. Whether there had been some mild cajoling or strings pulled for that to happen, Tom would never admit to him. He gave a little wave in greeting from behind the long piece of parchment and his quill, ready for the trial to begin.

"Criminal trial of the second of July, nineteen fourty-five." Minister Spencer-Moon began from his place at the podium, not exactly happy about this particular situation, despite the fact that Tom himself had been the one to bring him the news, "into the offences committed under the Murder Act of 1752 by Major Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort. Interrogator: Leonard Spencer-Moon, Minister for Magic. Court Scribe: Nobby Leach. Witness for the defence: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

Tom glanced to his side where Professor Dumbledore sat, still baffled about how the Transfiguration Professor even agreed to do this. When he had confessed to greying auburn haired wizard and explained his intentions, the man had been both grave and oddly proud. It was an odd mix. Still, for some reason Dumbledore said he would be a part of Tom's defense, despite being the one who knew for a fact Tom killed Myrtle initially and had insisted to Dippet that he was guilty those years ago. He wondered what the older wizard had planned, because he had the distinctive expression of a man who knew exactly how this trial was going to go down. That made for one of them.

"The charges against the accused are as follows:" Spencer-Moon's voice broke Tom out of his thoughts, "First, that he did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, murdered fourteen-year old student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Myrtle Elizabeth Warren on the thirteenth of June, nineteen fourty three."

Gasps echoed around the courtroom at the change. Surely not, Tom could almost hear them say, Surely someone like him could not have committed such an atrocity. But Spencer-Moon was not done as he cleared his throat, the universal sign of 'shut up I'm not done'.

"Secondly, that he knowingly and deliberately slandered the name and reputation of fellow student of Hogwarts student Rubeus Hagrid with the intent to avoid arrest." The Minister declared, to which the Wizengamot appeared almost stunned by. With a ruffle of the parchment, Spencer-Moon looked down at Tom, "Tom Marvolo Riddle, how do you plead to these charges?"

"Guilty, sir."

For some reason the simple reply, or perhaps the fact that he wasn't fighting this in any way, made the Wizengamot members realize that Tom himself had agreed to this before the trial even began. This was, in a way, to only work out what punishment he would get, not whether or not he was guilty of these crimes. As the evidence provided to them now made it quite obvious that he did, in fact, commit them.

"For the aforementioned actions against the law, it has been agreed upon that you take the punishment that was given to the student you framed." Spencer-Moon continued as the Wizengamot began to mutter amongst themselves again, "Henceforth, Rubeus Hagrid will be cleared of this charge, and Tom Marvolo Riddle will be expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and his wand snapped."

At the final punishment against him, a couple of Wizengamot members stood up, obviously upset. Not even Azkaban inmates got their wands snapped. Most expelled students kept their wand as well, so they could perhaps enroll again at the school after a good year or two had passed. But this was the punishment laid to Hagrid two years ago. Perhaps it was only right that he suffered the same, even if he was in a better position than Hagrid was with such a sentence.

"After his services these past two years since, isn't that enough penance?" one witch cried out, blond bob slightly mussed with how fast she had stood, "This man had taken the Cruciatus curse multiple times for this country. For our futures! Surely that counts for something!"

"He should be in Azkaban for killing a child!" another wizard bellowed, causing a ruckus in his area as a shouting match became apparent.

The noise level soon began to rise with the few that wanted a harsher sentence and the majority that wanted a lighter one. Tom grimaced internally at the madness that was circulating in the courtroom, turning to Professor Dumbledore, who seemed to have a twinkle in his eye at all of this. Nobby was writing as fast as he could, trying to catch what everyone was saying. But whether it was from bias from knowing Tom during the war or something else, he could see the Ravenclaw alumni sided with the ones demanding a lighter punishment.

"The defense would like to speak now."

The banging of the gavel along with the sudden interjection of Albus Dumbledore, who had until now remained silent, seemed to surprise enough Wizengamot members into silence. Within a minute all was quiet again as they waited for the Transfiguration Professor to make his case on behalf of Tom.

"As Lady Longbottom has already brought up," Professor Dumbledore began seriously, nodding to the witch with the bob, "We must take into account the events that transpired between the crimes and now. Months as a prisoner of war, nearly two years of public service as a soldier, risking his life for our wellbeing and the fate of the world. Even bearing the consequences of prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus Curse. Headmaster Dippet and I believe we found a solution, which I have provided to you for you to peruse."

A low murmur started up again as some kind of parchment was passed around and read, and he could see Nobby at the ready for any comment that resembled an official statement. Tom was bewildered. What had they come up with? Perhaps he should have expected something like this, but his mind had been… preoccupied as of late with trying to find a decent schedule to his new potion regiment.

Minister Spencer-Moon appeared to have expected the trial to go somewhat like this, and instead banged his gavel again.

"We shall now put it to a vote. All in favor of two years of Azkaban, please raise your hands."

Around five officials, including the wizard who shouted out before, raised their hands. Tom memorized their faces, just because he couldn't do much else right now and he wanted to be careful of those ones in the future.

"All in favor of expulsion and wand snapping, please raise your hands."

Three officials quietly did so.

"All in favor of Dumbledore's proposal?"

This time a resounding majority which covered three-fourths of the room raised their hands, including the Minister himself. What on Earth was in that proposal? Judging by the fact Lady Longbottom also had her hand raised for this one, Tom would have to assume that this particular sentence did not require for his wand to be snapped. But what did it entail?

"Very well." Minister Spencer-Moon stated finally with a barely-suppressed smile, "Tom Marvolo Riddle, with the permission of Headmaster Armando Dippet of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I sentence you to be expelled permanently from Hogwarts. You will also be completing at least two months of public service as designated by the Headmaster."

Tom nodded silently at the sentence, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. Expulsion and community service. A lighter sentence than the one Hagrid had, but at least now the truth had come to light, the weight in his chest felt a little lighter. This had to be done. He had made a promise, after all.

The sound of the gavel hitting the stand signalled the ending to the trial, and the Wizengamot began to disperse. Spencer-Moon gave a nod before leaving himself, and Nobby came down from where he was standing to go hand in his trial log, passing the accused with a small smile. Hiding his confusion well, Tom instead turned to Professor Dumbledore, who seemed to be quite amused by all of the events. There was a twinkle in his eye that made him think that the older wizard knew that this would be the outcome of the trial. Even so, it was obvious Dumbledore was not going to be sharing anything further as the older wizard swept out of the room, leaving Tom to collect himself.

With a sigh, the young wizard (who had gotten off quite lightly all things considered) made his way back to his temporary living quarters in the Leaky Cauldron.

To say Tom was slightly confused would have been an understatement.

"Professor, why did you bring me here?"

Looking at the familiar castle overlooking the lake, it was easy to see why. He had just been expelled from Hogwarts, why take him here again? The confusion was even greater when they bypassed the castle completely and instead headed down to the mouth of the Forbidden Forest. In the distance Tom could make out a small hut and garden still well within school grounds.

"We are going to begin your community service, of course." Dumbledore replied jovially.

"And the community service is supposed to be done at Hogwarts?" came the slightly incredulous question as they near the hut, which was larger than it looked from a distance.

"Well, I thought we could put that brain to good use." came the unfazed reply, the Transfiguration Professor knocking on the door even as he spoke, "You shall be a tutor until school begins again in September."

"A tutor?" Tom asked with an eyebrow raised in confusion even as the door in front of him opened, "To wh-"

The large (and by that he meant disturbingly tall) man that came to greet them was immediately recognized by the Hogwarts dropout. Dumbledore seemed to notice the moment he had this realization, because the professor's eyes were twinkling like mad.

"'ullo pr'fessor!" The person who could be none other than Rubeus Hagrid greeted, far taller than when Tom last recalled, "Come on in. Tea's ready fer yeh."

Tom swore that the small hut was a bit bigger on the inside. Not too much to cause suspicion, but he was quite sure the ceiling was raised considerably higher to accompany the height of the half-giant. A tea kettle was whistling away at the fire-place, and like everything else in the hut appeared to be slightly larger so Hagrid could use them with relative ease. It was… cozy, if anything, but knowing the circumstances about why he was here made it slightly uncomfortable. However, it was apparent that Hagrid had not recognized him yet. Had he truly changed so much?

"So what can I do fer yeh, pr'fessor?" Hagrid asked in a hearty tone as he poured the tea, "Who's yer friend 'ere?"

At the question Tom sat up a little more rigidly and Dumbledore's twinkle grew. What transpired within the next half-hour was nothing short of awkward as Dumbledore explained the situation, starting with a re-introduction of Tom Riddle and a description of the trial and what the verdict entailed. Like all the Gryffindors he'd come across, Tom was able to see the emotions that Hagrid was going through as each part of the tale unfolded. Horror and a smidge of anger when the dawning understanding of who he was came to the front, confusion at the fact Tom had turned himself in, and elation compounded with pure joy when he heard that he was cleared of his charges and was able to attend Hogwarts again.

"-And in accordance to the sentence given, Tom here is going to be tutoring you so that you can start your fourth year this coming September." Dumbledore finished brightly as both the younger wizards turned to stare at each other in comprehension of what the Transfiguration Professor had planned for.

The silence between them after this statement stretched for what felt like an eternity. Both ex-Hogwarts students now were avoiding the gaze of one another, instead opting to look to Dumbledore, who clapped his hands in encouragement before putting one on Tom's shoulder and the other on Hagrid's arm.

"Gentleman, shall we go and get Mr. Hagrid a new wand?"

At this, Tom actually saw the half-giant's expression turn sheepish.

"Er… can we fix my old one instead?" Hagrid offered, which made Tom raise his eyebrow because he was quite sure wizards generally got rid of their broken wands post-snapping. This eyebrow somehow raised higher when Hagrid shuffled around the hut for a moment and brought out a small pink umbrella.

"Does it still work like that?" he couldn't help but ask, mystified at whether or not the notion was idiotic or genius. The answer he received was a shrug.

"Fer what I need."

Tom blinked slowly before cocking his head to the side, a ghost of a smile on his face. This… might not be as awful as he originally thought.

"Unfortunately, I am not sure if it is possible to repair a snapped wand." Dumbledore answered in what Tom assumed was supposed to be a morose tone, but his eyes still twinkled as he looked to the Hogwarts dropout, "However, perhaps with a powerful enough wand…"

They stared at each other for all of a minute, with Hagrid glancing awkwardly between them. Of course he would be insinuating the Elder Wand. Come to think of it, Dumbledore probably hadn't yet seen it up close. Tom wondered if there was more to this visit than merely helping out a man he'd wronged. Both Dumbledore and Grindelwald studied the Hallows, after all. But in the name of making up for the crime he had committed against Hagrid, this was the least he could do, right?

Fingers brushed above where it was holstered, below the band that held the wand's brother stone. It wasn't fear that he felt at the thought of it, only bitterness. The wand that Grindelwald used to cast the Cruciatus curse in him, the one that led to the deaths of many in its wake. Bloodiest Hallow indeed. But here he was, now, taking it out to heal instead of harm. Repair instead of destroy.

"The pieces, please." Tom asked of Hagrid, although it was more of an order.

Still, it seemed that the half-giant's excitement at the thought of having his wand fixed overruled any other thought as the larger teen took the top part of the umbrella part and tipped the now-hollow stem towards the table. With a dull clatter the two snapped halves of a rather large wand slid out, only hanging by the still-intact unicorn hair by just. Well, that would explain how it was able to function somewhat even after being snapped.

With a flick of his wrist, the Elder Wand popped out from its holster into Tom's hand, even now a bit of a ghastly thing to look at. Hagrid appeared to look at it in curiosity, but that didn't compare to the interest Dumbledore seemed to have of it. Dumbledore's eyes seemed to be trained on the wand, although it was a mystery what the man was thinking as he did so. There was no twinkle behind his spectacles and the gaze was intense. This was, after all, the wand that Dumbledore had looked for, studied the lore of, and eventually heard was in the hands of a man he must have worked quite close with.

"How does it feel?" Tom heard the Professor say in a whisper.

"Heavy." Was the flat answer before shifting blue eyes turned to the snapped halves of Hagrid's wand and pointed the Elder Wand at it, "Reparo."

With a crack, the two halves collided together. It reminded Tom a bit like the magnets Howard had shown him, clacking together as they were pulled by the forces within them. Two became one and there before them stood a wand that was perhaps sixteen inches in length, looking for all the world as if it had never broken in the first place.

For a moment all the three men could do was stare at the unified wand. Then, from across the table, Tom heard what was undoubtedly a sniffle. He chanced a glance and saw that Hagrid indeed was beginning to cry as he picked up his newly repaired wand which hummed with the power it once had before. Before he realized what was about to happen, Tom felt himself getting nearly crushed by the half-giant. Thankfully his own frost giant blood allowed it to be more of an inconvenience than an actual danger.

"Thank yer." Hagrid sniffled, muffled by where he was holding the stunned Tom Riddle, tears running down his face. Was it just joy, or was there a little bit of bitterness as well? He supposed he'll find out later if he was going to be tutoring the younger wizard.

"Splendid! Simply splendid!" Dumbledore chortled out, the intensity before having vanished from his face, "Now gentlemen, I do believe Mr. Hagrid is going to need some new robes. Come along, now. The day is still young!"

With the usual spring in his step, the older wizard led the excited (Hagrid) and the exasperated (Tom) wizards out of the smaller hut. Indeed, it seemed that it was still quite early - not even noon yet.

Since it was summer still, there was a lack of other people at the grounds. It was quite jarring, for one who had never been at Hogwarts during this time. Tom could see rabbits and mice coming out of their burrows, the pixies playing near the forest, and even saw a goose fly over the lake. How serene. This was the view he had fought to protect, a world without the devastation of war or the rule of a megalomaniac.

Tom breathed a sigh as he followed Dumbldore and Hagrid into the castle, hoping that the future would be brighter for all of them because of the war that had been won. It's what…. it's what they would have wanted. And if that was what made sure their deaths weren't in vain, then he could brave this new world. Face a world that didn't have them in it.

"I don't think this world would have been the same without you." Tom spoke quietly to the wind, watching as Hagrid levitated a suit of armor to the half-giant's glee, "But I will try. To make up for what the world has lost."

Seeing the joy on the faces before him, it looked like he was off to a decent start.

Omake: Snake Swears

"Sssiaaaanaaassssshhhaaa." said a lone voice.

"Ssssssiiiiaaaaanaaaassshhhhhaaaaa." a chorus of voices responded.

Private Lorraine had no idea what was going on, but that strange British boy was making the rest of the Commandos (including the Captain himself) repeat the same hissing noises after him. The odd thing was, the young Sergeant had a wide, goofy grin on his face while the others seemed to be quite serious, listening intently.

"And what does that mean?" Sergeant Barnes could be heard asking, leaning close to the younger man.

"Well, it can roughly be translated to 'may you miss the opportunity to mate with females.'" Sergeant Riddle replied, completely serious, petting the snake that frequented his shoulder.

A low whistle. "That's pretty harsh for a snake, right?" Sergeant Dugan asked, cigar in his hand, the smoke wafting up to the ceiling.

"Extremely. It's a grave insult." Was Sergeant Riddle's reply.

Was… was the snake on his shoulder nodding?

"Give us another one, Tom!" Private Morita exclaimed with a grin, taking a swig from a beer bottle.

Another chorus of hissing followed, although Private Lorraine couldn't really tell the difference. Were they trying to sound like snakes or something? How ridiculous. Men really were just a pack of morons in the end.

"Ssssiiiiiiisshhhhhaaaaaahhhhhhhaaaasssss." Sergeant Barnes could be heard saying.

"Impressive!" came the voice of Sergeant Riddle from where Lorraine was leaving, "You lot now know the worst swears in Parseltongue."

"More!" came the exuberant roar.

Morons, the lot of them. But they were good at their job, so who could take them away from the little things, even if it was some kind of made-up snake language.

Later on, soldiers from HYDRA, Grindelwald, and Allies alike would become very confused at why the Commandos hissed so much. And there was nothing more terrifying to a HYDRA agent then having Captain America barreling toward you, shield in tow, screaming "SSSIAANAAASSSHAAA!"

After all, only the Howling Commandos, and any nearby snake (who were mystified as to why such vulgar language was being thrown around) knew what those hissing sounds meant.

AN:

Oni: That's all for now, folks!

Tom: If you like this story, please Follow, Favorite, and Review.

Oni: And I'll see you next time, my Pretties!