Chapter Two

The day after the attack, Neville contacted Tom because he was worried about Hannah. In the young Gryffindor's words, 'her side of the bond suddenly became very faint, and it felt like I couldn't get enough air.' Tom, after allowing himself a moment of smug satisfaction at being proven correct, wrote back, providing a brief explanation of the relevant events. Then, as things settled down, Black found him and sat him down (again) for a talk.

"I think you know what this is going to be about," the man told him seriously.

Tom's expression remained blank. He was well aware, and he'd already thought through the conversation a half dozen times overnight. "I won't apologize for saving my friends," he told Black.

The man ran a hand down his face, exhaustion creeping over his features. "No, I didn't think you would. And I'm glad you did, really. Friends aside, Amelia's too important to the war. She's one of the top candidates to become Minister, and she's the best option of them. Also, now that she's here and has the whole story, she's already working on getting my name cleared. But Harry," Black continued, "You just disappeared without telling me anything. What if something had happened to you? And Merlin, Harry, you were up against Voldemort! If he'd killed you –" Black cut off, voice breaking.

Tom closed his eyes as though he were thinking things over, then sighed and looked back at his godfather. "I understand that," he said, even though he didn't, not really, "but if I'd told you, you would have tried to keep me here. I couldn't risk that, because Susan wouldn't have contacted me that way if it wasn't an emergency. There wasn't time to argue with you about it." That was the lie he'd decided upon. In truth, he hadn't considered Black at all.

Black's eyes narrowed. "That's fair, but there's no emergency right now."

Tom blinked, unsure where Black was taking the conversation.

"If it happens again, and there's someone available, I want you to tell them what's happening as quickly as possible, then either bring them with you or let them at least call for help." Black leaned forward to grasp Tom's shoulder. "Can you promise me that?"

That was unexpected. In Tom's experience, adults either neglected or smothered their charges. This… equality, of sorts, was new. "I can't promise that," Tom said slowly, mind racing through the strange turn their conversation had taken, "but if there's someone nearby who I trust not to stop me, I'll do it. And if there's not, I'll call Kreacher and tell him to let you know what's going on."

The lines creasing Black's face softened, returning a smidgen of his former youth. "Thank you, pup. I can't lose you, you know? It'd kill me."

Susan had said something similar about Hannah, and it was clear Molly had felt that way about Arthur Weasley. Tom feigned an understanding smile and nod.

With not only Amelia Bones and her niece, but also Hannah Abbot and Ernie MacMillan and, not long after, the Weasley family staying there, Grimmauld Place became loud again, making Tom retreat to his room and the library as he had the previous summer. Unlike the previous summer, Ron and Ginny both spent much of their time in the library with him. Once she'd realized that, Susan joined them, followed by Hannah not long after. Only MacMillan seemed to prefer his own company, which Susan said was fairly normal. The boy didn't spend much time socializing with the girls unless the other male Hufflepuffs were around. He'd only been at Susan's home during the attack because they'd been working on homework together.

The teens finished said homework quickly, then turned to other pursuits. Tom had those who were unaware of the real Harry Potter's misfortune looking into wards. The Black family had turned warding into an art form, so there was every possibility that a means existed to break through anti-Apparition wards.

The others, Tom instructed to look into Gringotts. He still couldn't see how he could make Bella retrieve his horcrux, and burning down the entire establishment in hopes the Fiendfyre would make it to the LeStrange vault seemed both excessive and inefficient. He knew how he'd originally planned to steal from the bank, but that was most likely the method Voldemort used in 1991, so Gringotts would have since protected themselves against anything similar. Thus, unless Bella had a sudden change of heart, he needed to invent a new method.

Tom was researching deities in preparation for Luna's ritual. Wizarding tradition typically held with either magic itself being a god-like presence or a polytheistic view somewhat similar to the Greeks and Romans. Tom didn't believe in god in any way, shape, or form, but he supposed either view was potentially possible. After all, gods might not subscribe to the normal laws of the universe, but neither did magic.

Thus far, he'd mostly learned that he should be polite even though they probably wouldn't be.

Things were going less well for the Order of the Phoenix, Tom surmised. Whenever he saw one of them, they were stressed and depressed. Moody nearly killed Tonks when she startled him by tripping over a rug in the entrance hall, and Hestia Jones spent all her time while at Headquarters snapping at everyone who tried to talk to her. Emmaline Vance had gotten into a row with Dumbledore because he wanted her to take Shaklebolt's place guarding the muggle Prime Minister (something illegal as she was a private citizen, not an Auror), and reports came in that the dementors were breeding.

Tom hadn't given much thought to dementor propagation before, and he decided that he was happiest that way. For the most part, the others agreed.

Severus learned that Voldemort had finally realized Narcissa and Draco were gone. Lucius claimed to have cast them out upon discovering they held muggle-loving sentiments, which saved his life but didn't spare him from being tortured to within an inch of it. Despite this, the man still hadn't requested Tom's mark. Instead, he reported on the Dark Lord's actions, effectively becoming Tom's spy within the Death Eaters. Tom was unsure how the reports were being sent, but he supposed it wasn't ultimately important and left maintenance of his spy to Severus.

Mrs. Weasley had recovered just enough that she now wandered from room to room, cleaning half-heartedly here and there. Tom ignored her and spoke instead to Kreacher. "I understand that you don't like Sirius," Tom said gently. "But can you honestly tell me that it's not at least partially behind your weakened magic?"

The elf flinched bodily. "It is being true," it admitted. "Kreacher is not liking the state the house has fallen to, but Kreacher is not having the power to fix it."

Tom nodded. "Then you have three options, it seems. You can either find another house elf to help you, fix your relationship with Sirius, or bond to someone else."

Kreacher grabbed its long ears, tugging on them anxiously, and nodded. "Kreacher will be speaking with the Dobby elf if Dobby is bonding with Master Harry Potter."

As if it'd been listening for such an opening, Dobby appeared. The elf gave Tom a suspicious look. "Dobby is willing to bond with the Great Harry Potter Sir, but this Harry Potter is feeling different from the Great Harry Potter."

Tom didn't get a chance to speak, as Kreacher tore into the other elf. "This Harry Potter is the only one Dobby elf needs to worry about. This Harry Potter killed the Dark One's artefacts and will avenge Good Master Regulus!"

Dobby's ears drooped. "Dobby is sorry. Dobby is willing to bond with Master Harry Potter Sir if yous be wishing."

Frankly, Tom hated the idea of owning one of the things. Elves were like genies: you might get a good one, but you might get a literal or a malicious one, and no amount of thought would save you from a malicious house elf. However, if it would get this house liveable, he supposed he could cope. At the very least, he could blackmail the elf if it became a problem. It did, after all, seem very fond of the real Harry Potter, and Tom was the world's best bet at retrieving the teen's soul. He nodded. "Yes, please, Dobby. I want to ease the burden on Kreacher. It's not his fault Sirius is…" Tom trailed off, unsure how to describe the man's deficiencies in a single word.

The combined wills was all it took, and the bond snapped into being. Dobby cocked his head curiously, then nodded to himself. "Dobby will be cleaning now," he declared.

Kreacher followed a moment later, no doubt wanting to oversee the job Dobby was doing.

The end result was that Grimmauld Place swiftly went from a state of total disrepair to something dark but comfortable. Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to notice, continuing to float about performing ineffective cleaning, but everyone else in the house was noticeably more relaxed. It was funny, Tom reflected, how much stress simply existing in a dirty place could cause a person.

The summer wore on. Emmaline Vance gave in to Dumbledore's requests, only to die a week later alone in a locked room. One of his half-blood Death Eaters must have done that, because they were the only ones who would appreciate the puzzle it would present to muggle investigators. Hestia Jones and Auror Tonks took over for her together, but they demanded emergency portkeys first.

In private, Tonks approached Tom and requested his mark. She'd heard about it from her boss, Madam Bones, and she agreed with her boss that any additional method of contacting help was a necessity.

Amelia was selected as the Interim Minister, and she and Susan were set to leave Grimmauld Place for reasonably secure and significantly more legal Minister's housing. Hannah and MacMillan would be staying longer, but they'd be leaving soon as well. Hannah needed an extra day because her family had decided to redo the wards on their property in face of what happened to the Bones family manor, and MacMillan's family was out of the country. He'd had a portkey to take him to them after a weekend stay with Susan and Hannah, but its time had come and passed in the aftermath of the attack, and arranging a new international portkey took time.

Then Voldemort attacked the Longbottoms.

Susan was just saying goodbye to Hannah and MacMillan. Suddenly, she doubled over. A moment later, Hannah moaned and hugged her arms to herself.

"Susan?" Amelia asked, alarmed.

Susan looked up at Tom, ignoring her aunt for the moment. "Neville," she gasped.

Tom brushed against her mind with legilimency and was not entirely surprised to see the girl had decent Occlumency shields. She flinched minutely, but her shields folded and let him in, pushing him to where her bond with Neville writhed angrily. Then she gave him an image of Longbottom Manor. Tom exited her mind and nodded to her once. He started toward the door, then hesitated. "Madam Bones, I suspect the LeStranges are attacking the Longbottoms. I'm going to help."

He strode out of the house and apparated to the place Susan had shown him.

Bella's distinctive cackle led him the rest of the way. Tom ignored the manor itself and headed through collapsed greenhouses, looking around curiously. He heard Bella, but no one else.

As he rounded a corner, he understood why. Bella had her wand trained on a bound and silenced Neville, whose leg stuck out, bent in a place a leg shouldn't be bent. Though he had to be in severe pain, his expression was nothing but incandescent rage. On the ground a few feet away lay a distinctly dead Rabastan. Tom smirked and stepped closer. "Do you want help, Neville?" he asked. He immediately had to block a flurry of curses from Bella.

Neville grimaced but nodded.

Tom smiled and lifted the silencing spell. "Your grandmother?" he asked, still batting away curses and dodging crucios.

Neville's expression hardened. "Fighting, last time I saw her at least." The boy bit his lip, hard, and cast a healing spell designed to splint broken bones. Typically, for this level of damage, Skele-gro would be needed, but Tom supposed that wouldn't be useful at the moment. And really, if you were going to vanish all the bones, it hardly mattered if you shattered them a bit more first. Still, it was a type of steel he only saw in his most fanatic Death Eaters, which made Tom wonder whether Neville was equally insane or if it was merely a symptom of terminal Gryffindorishness.

Bella was hardly idle during this. "Aww, is itty bitty Potter gonna come play with his wittle friend?" she cooed before a flame whip caught her arm and she screamed. She doused the flame, then burst out laughing and continued fighting as though nothing had happened. Her utter lack of hesitation in the face of pain was Tom's favorite part about her when she was fighting for him. He enjoyed it slightly less when she was fighting against him.

"Torporus!" Neville shouted. The spell missed, and the boy cursed before trying again. "Veluptus!" This time he hit, and Bellatrix collapsed, shuddering all over.

Tom looked at him appraisingly. The boy had learned both forms of the light Cruciatus. He looked at Rabastan again, wondering if that was what had killed him.

"I'll be fine here. Go help my gran," Neville ordered.

Tom twitched a bit at the tone, but it was a reasonable enough request. Neville wasn't going anywhere with that leg. He took off toward the manor house at a run.

Just inside the front doors, Tom stopped. A body lay at his feet, charred beyond recognition. He looked across the room. An old woman, presumably said gran, sat there, leaning against the wall, panting. She looked up at him, and Tom sighed. Entrail exploding curse. He crossed the room and knelt next to her.

"Ah… The Potter boy…" she wheezed. "Is - is Neville alright?"

Tom nodded. "He took down the other two. Is there anything you want me to tell him?"

She let out a burbling laugh. "He really is his son," she said. "I should have…" Her head fell forward as she lost consciousness. Tom stood and considered her. She wasn't dead - not quite yet - but this was a spell he couldn't heal. Entrail expelling, yes, but exploding? That required a prodigy devoted to healing. Tom was a prodigy, but his skill at healing was only just below your average doctor at Saint Mungos. That was nowhere near the requisite level.

A sharp breath behind him made him spin. "Madam Bones," he said evenly. A large black dog next to her bounded over and turned into Black, who immediately wrapped Tom in a bear hug. Tom grit his teeth and endured the contact, since it was likely the fastest way to reassure the man that yes, he was fine and no, he wasn't about to keel over like Madam Longbottom.

Amelia breathed out noisily and joined them. "Have you seen Neville Longbottom?" she asked.

Tom nodded. "He was on the grounds when I saw him. He told me to come help his grandmother, but when I got here…" He gestured to the woman's body. It was still now. "He should be safe, but his leg was badly broken."

Amelia jerked her head in something that was probably meant to be a nod, her eyes still riveted on the body before her. At last, she turned and looked at the corpse across the hall. "Do you know who that was?" she asked.

Tom shrugged. "I assume Rudolphus LeStrange, but they were already like that when I arrived, so it could be anyone really." It was unfortunate, really. Tom had ideas about entering Gringotts using one of the LeStranges, goblins be damned, but you couldn't Polyjuice into a dead person. Perhaps, if he was lucky, Neville would leave Bella alive. "I'll go get him. He… he should hear it from a friend." And if Bella was still alive, they could hide the murderess together. It could be a bonding moment or something.

Black followed him, making Tom grimace. Of course the mutt would have to follow. On the other hand, Bella was his cousin. Surely he would have some pent up grievances that could only be resolved via torture. "Neville!" Tom called once the boy was in sight, jogging toward the other teen, who stood, leaning against a partially destroyed wall.

Neville's head shot up and he swallowed. "Harry," he said with no small amount of guilt and shame coloring his expression.

Tom sighed. No doubt he was about to be subjected to some manner of morality. At his side, Black barked and growled at the downed witch. "I take it you don't intend to kill her then." Bella was still lying on the ground, panting and staring deliriously up at the sky.

Neville bit his lip. "I… Luna gave me this book, you know. It was a muggle book on something called operant conditioning? And… At first I thought… I mean, it would serve her right. But that's… but wouldn't that make me…?"

"You're human. Nothing more, and nothing less. You know I will never look down on you for wanting your revenge against her," Tom said. Beside him, Black made a suspiciously nodding-like motion for a dog and sat down wagging his tail. "What are you planning to do with her? Storage-wise, I mean."

Neville licked his lips and frowned. "I'm… not really sure. There's… The manor has dungeons, but I've never been in them, so I don't know how secure they'd be, and until the conditioning is finished, she'll still be dangerous."

Black whined at him, and Tom nodded. He grimaced, knowing he had to move on to the next bit. "Your grandmother, she's dead."

The blood left Neville's face, leaving a stark whiteness. "Dead?" Neville asked, shaking his head minutely.

Tom didn't bother to try to look kind, aware the boy would realize the attempt was entirely false. Instead, he bluntly laid out the scene he'd come upon. "Your grandmother killed the person she was fighting, burnt them beyond recognition, but he caught her with an entrails exploding curse. It's… not the sort of thing most people could heal." Tom glanced at the dog next to him. "I doubt even Voldemort could do it," he said.

Neville reeled back as though struck.

"She told me she regretted the way she treated you. She knew it was wrong, but couldn't see past her grief for so long that by the time she really saw you, she didn't know anymore how to change." A lie. She'd only ever seen her grandson in terms of his relation to Frank Longbottom. Her actual last words sounded nice, but that made them all the more dangerous. It was far easier to dismiss words that were toxic all the way through; far harder to dismiss those with a pretty facade. If told, the poison hidden in her words would fester within Neville, and Tom wouldn't allow that sort of damage to one of his own.

Neville collapsed, the splinting spell failing and his leg breaking further. The physical pain on top of the emotional pain was too much for him, and the teen passed out.

Black shifted back to human form. "What's operant conditioning?" he asked. He started binding Bellatrix.

Tom blinked at him before stupefying Bella for good measure. "It's a form of training based on creating a subconscious association between two things. The most famous example is training a dog to salivate when it hears a bell by repeatedly ringing the bell just before giving the dog food," Tom told Black. "Neville knows a spell that is… it's the most pleasure a human can experience. Call it the antithesis of the Cruciatus, if you will. Using that, it wouldn't be difficult to train a person to do anything."

Black studied his cousin's still form. "And your friend wants to do that to her?"

"I guess so," Tom said. He'd done it to her before, so it would be interesting to see if his training could be overwritten.

With a sigh, Black lifted his cousin. "She wasn't always like this, you know. Growing up, she could be cruel, but she didn't… She was different." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. After what she did to his parents, your friend has a right to decide her fate. I'll take her to Grimmauld Place if you'll order Kreacher not to help her in any way. Best not to let Amelia see her."

"Really?" Tom knew Black didn't care much for his family or for rules, but that was different from actively helping in a morally dubious activity.

Black smiled sadly. "Really. Neville can come stay with us too, of course." With that, he turned on the spot and Disapparated.

Tom summoned Kreacher and instructed him to ensure Bella didn't escape, then started quarantining the scene for the aurors. He finished and conjured a stretcher for Neville, which he floated behind him on the way back to the manor proper.

Amelia met him on the way. "Mister Potter," she said evenly.

"Madam Bones," Tom replied. "Rabastan LeStrange's body is back there. Do you have a healer on site? Neville could use help sooner rather than later."

Amelia gestured for two of the aurors with her to take Neville, and the rest to go on ahead. She remained behind, a grim expression on her face. "Are you alright, Mister Potter? Seeing two dead bodies and watching your friend's grandmother die… If you would like, I can take you to see a squib counselor. I make my aurors do the same, the first time they see a death or if they see a particularly upsetting one."

Tom snorted and shook his head. "You're a bit late for that," he said wryly. "Madam Longbottom wasn't the first person I've seen die, and it was far from the worst death I've seen." Though it was certainly true of himself, burning Quirrel alive should count as far more traumatic for Potter. Now that he thought about it, the boy probably should have needed counseling after that. Well, naturally Dumbledore wouldn't want the boy to get help. That wouldn't mesh well with the boy saviour archetype.

Amelia pursed her lips unhappily but nodded. "Very well. In that case, I suggest you return to the Order's headquarters. I will send Mister Longbottom along once he's healed."

With a crack, Tom apparated home. He entered, looking around, and headed down the stairs. Black was sitting there, on the ground, knees up and arms wrapped around them. Tom hadn't seen the man looking so defeated since the beginning of last summer, before he'd started leaving the house. In the cell, Bellatrix pounded on an invisible wall, screaming, though a silencing ward or charm had to have been used, as Tom heard nothing of the curses she was no doubt spewing.

Black sighed heavily and stood. "I should let you know, Hermione will be coming in a few days. I'm going to go… take a walk, or something. Clear my head."

"Alright, be careful," Tom said absently. With Bellatrix here, he had a means of accessing her vault. That was a far better outcome than he could have planned for, so he silently thanked Voldemort for sending them to attack the Longbottoms. It was, of course, probably a decision to eliminate the other possible child of prophecy, just in case, and it was certainly not meant to result in the loss of his three most fanatical Death Eaters, but Tom didn't particularly care about the intention, only the results. This was, he thought, a splendid result.

In front of him, Bellatrix slowly calmed as she realized her situation. Tom cocked his head. "Can you hear me?" he asked. When her eyes narrowed, he took that as being close enough to a yes. "Do you remember being Bellatrix Black?" he asked, though he knew she couldn't answer. "She was powerful and deadly, but though her family forced the mark on her, she did not follow the Dark Lord. Not, at least, until her husband and her brother-in-law took her to him one night. He wished to try out a new spell, he said, and for the next week she was subjected to mind-numbing pleasure and pain both, with a terrible numbness in between. And though she hated the curses used on her, she hated the numbness even more, and she began to beg for anything else, even the Cruciatus."

Bella was still now, eyes wide. How do you know that? She mouthed the words slowly, making it easy to tell what she was saying.

"Because I know everything the Dark Lord knew, prior to his first fall." Tom stepped closer, barely any room between them save the shimmering wall of a magical ward. "He should not have treated you so carelessly. He broke you when he should have treasured you."

A glimmer of something shone in her eye for just an instant before Bella threw herself against the ward between them, raging against him. Tom took a step back and sighed. Neville would have his work cut out for him. He climbed the stairs, off to relay the morning's events to his followers.

AN: Going through the HBP timeline, I realize I've essentially negated just about every part of it. Which is fine, mostly. I didn't much enjoy that book anyway. It does mean I lost the loose framework earlier than expected. I suppose Voldemort's actions aren't likely to have changed much, so his timeline should be roughly the same, but just about everyone else is up in the air.