Author's Note: This chapter is unbeta'ed so please excuse any mistakes - I have read through it twice to correct any I found but a few may have slipped through without my meaning too.

Chapter Summary: Tom finds out just what is in store for him and Harry tells a personal, if well-known story.


It was another three weeks before a time was settled on what day Tom would meet Lady Peverell, the fourteenth of October, a Saturday. He had privately asked Malfoy to teach him the proper etiquette for meeting with the head of a household and the Slytherin had graciously taught him. While he had met several before, typically the parents of the children he surrounded himself with, this time, it would be a one on one interaction.

He had arranged the room to his satisfaction, moving furniture until he felt that he would have the advantage. Placed in a corner opposite of the doorway he had entered and the fireplace, a plush burgundy settle say with him in the middle of it. Opposite of him was a love couch in the same color that had a end table on both sides of it. In the middle of the two furniture laid a coffee table, a dark wood that complemented the burgundy. There was a large window which viewed the Forbidden Forest. There were several non-magical paintings in the room for decoration. The fireplace crackled in the background, the Floo already enabled though the woman of the hour had yet to arrive.

The young wizard sat straight and tense in his seat, grey eyes narrowed at the fireplace. He had forgone the school uniform to wear a set of traditional black and grey accented Wizarding robes that were pressed and neat. Tom wanted to make a good first impression as he knew that first impressions were everything (the biggest example of his life: Dumbledore), he had learned the hard way that the only way to get adults to take him seriously was to be charming, neat, and to always have a smile on his face.

The fireplace suddenly roared green, signalling someone coming through. Tom immediately stood up, walking towards the fireplace just as a young woman tumbled out. The Slytherin had barely seconds to register her sudden appearance before he reached out and caught her, getting a mouthful of black curls of hair in the process. He blinked in surprise as she righted herself, standing up. He dropped his arms as if burnt and stepped back, noting the black curls that seemed to float around her head.

He took a moment to gaze at her, processing everything that he was seeing as it would help him later on when he would go over the entire conversation they were about to have. She was shorter than he was, the top of her head standing mid-chest on him, something that mildly surprised him as he didn't think he was that tall. Her clothes were a deep green robe wrapped elegantly with a similar dress underneath. Her face was definitely aristocratic, with sharp cheekbones and jawline, a small nose and a shapely brow bone. The most extraordinary thing about her were her eyes, almond-shaped with an unnatural green that seemed so familiar and yet he couldn't place the color. She suddenly looked up before a wide smile spread across her face, revealing white, straight teeth. "Hello Tom! I'm Harry, it's wonderful to meet you."

Tom paused, unsure of how to respond to something so casual. He had spent hours practicing how to respond to the typical Purebred Lady but it seemed that she was anything but. He finally settled to just greet her as her smile kept getting wider as each second passed that he didn't respond. "It is a pleasant day to make your acquaintance, Lady Peverell."

Lady Peverell laughed, "None of that, you can speak informally to me when we are alone." She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "I'm not like the rest of the stuck up Purebloods." With that unorthodox statement, the woman turned and made her way to the love couch, sitting down and making herself comfy.

Tom, unsure of how to respond, simply followed her example and made his way back to the settee, staring at the other occupant of the room. She was so… so different. Unlike even the young pureblood girls in school, who all were stiff, quiet, every movement calculated. This woman was vibrant, constantly moving, she seemed so free. Laugh lines framed her face and she looked as if she had never spent a moment caring what others thought. Every second spent in her presence felt so surreal and odd, as if she hadn't a care in the world, certainly none towards what others thought of her behavior. Even Gryffindors with their loud, boisterous personalities were still reserved and while they would sometimes disregard different etiquette, if they were Purebloods, they'd still follow some of it. She on the other hand, seemed to care not for any of it.

"I hope you don't mind, Tom, that I call you by your first name." She paused, waiting for a response. When he didn't give one, choosing instead to stare at her in an attempt to study the secret behind her actions, she sighed petulantly and continued, "I suppose we should get straight to matters." She reached into her pocket, pulling out her wand and a shrunken set of parchment scrolls. With a quick wave of her wand, the scrolls grew back to its normal size and the witch was quick to begin pulling out documents. "This is a Gringotts certified family tree, as noted by the mark there." Her finger, while groomed was not manicured like every other girl he knew, tapped on a wax seal at the top left corner of the document. "This is a completely family tree, all the way back about oh, eight hundred years."

He had been reaching out for the document, jerking as he glanced up at her, eyes wide at the thought. A soft smirk appeared before she stated,"Yes, however, most of it is boring and inconsequential. What does apply to us is five hundred years back." With another tap of her finger, the parchment began to unroll, dropping to the floor and kept rolling for several long seconds before it stopped. "We share three ancestors, before the name passed beyond all but my line." Her lips pursed for a moment, "Have you ever read the Tales of the Beetle and the Bard?" She set the parchment down on the table.

"Hasn't everyone?" Tom finally spoke, raising an eyebrow as if to doubt her intelligence.

Instead of getting upset, as Tom had predicted - and she was fast becoming something unpredictable like everyone else he knew - mirth spread across her face as she leaned back, reciting from memory. "There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight. In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across.. However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure.

And Death spoke to them. He was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic and said that each had earned a prize for having been clever enough to evade him.

So the oldest brother, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence: a wand that must always win duels for its owner, a wand worthy of a wizard who had conquered Death! So Death crossed to an elder tree on the banks of the river, fashioned a wand from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother.

Then the second brother, who was an arrogant man, decided that he wanted to humiliate Death still further, and asked for the power to recall others from Death. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave it to the second brother, and told him that the stone would have the power to bring back the dead.

And then Death asked the third and youngest brother what he would like. The youngest brother was the humblest and also the wisest of the brothers, and he did not trust Death. So he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place without being followed by Death. And death, most unwillingly, handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility.

Then Death stood aside and allowed the three brothers to continue on their way, and they did so, talking with wonder of the adventure they had had, and admiring Death's gifts. In due course the brothers separated, each for his own destination.

The first brother traveled on for a week or more, and reaching a distant village, sought out a fellow wizard with whom he had a quarrel. Naturally with the Elder Wand as his weapon, he could not fail to win the duel that followed. Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the oldest brother proceeded to an inn, where he boasted loudly of the powerful wand he had snatched from Death himself, and of how it made him invincible.

That very night, another wizard crept upon the oldest brother as he lay, wine-sodden, upon his bed. The thief took the wand and, for good measure, slit the oldest brother's throat.

And so Death took the first brother for his own.

Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his own home, where he lived alone. Here he took out the stone that had the power to recall the dead, and turned it thrice in his hand. To his amazement and his delight, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him.

Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him as by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, killed himself so as truly to join her.

And so Death took the second brother for his own.

But though Death searched for the third brother for many years, he was never able to find him. It was only when he had attained a great age that the youngest brother finally took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life."1

With a pleased expression on her face, the witch raised an eyebrow as she stared back at him. "While it may be a children's tale, this story is about our ancestors, the three brothers. Antioch, Cadmus and Ignatius Peverell were the brothers mentioned. The Peverell family is an ancient one with many mysteries." The witch licked her lips before continuing, "These three brothers are paramount to our ancestry. You are descended from Cadmus Peverell while I am from Antioch Peverell, the oldest brother. The last brother, Ignatius Peverell had a son who then had a daughter who married into the Potter family, thus ending the line there. Cadmus had a son before the death of his fiancé and after several generations, a daughter of his line married into the Gaunt family. Antioch is the only brother of whom his line has survived. I have already reached out to the Potter's however they are not… interested in taking back the Peverell name. As such, only you and I are the last ones of the Peverell family that are eligible of taking the name."

"Indeed." Tom said, leaning back into his seat, his face impassive as he went over everything he'd just heard.

Harry glanced away, clearing her throat as if nervous. He couldn't help the small feeling of glee at unnerving the witch. "As such, I became Lady of the house, almost a year ago. I've had to deal with quite a bit of paperwork as unfortunately, for the past several generations, it seems my father and his father and his father were more than happy wandering off around the world rather than tending to financial obligations. Because of this, it has taken me a year to have the time to research our family, for that, I apologize." She slightly inclined her head before continuing, "However, I have arranged matters that if you so wish, I could make you my Heir. If you choose to accept, know that it is no light matter. You would have to renounce your current last name, Riddle, for it would no longer hold any ties to you, magically or otherwise. You would have to undergo a blood ritual, casting your father from your genes and accepting the Peverell family. You would keep your Gaunt genes as they come from your mother. You would have to abide by several different rules as well as learn proper etiquette, of which, I would supply a teacher for you, so that you would not embarrass yourself or the family. And should anything untoward happen to me, you would become Lord Peverell and all that it entails. And in return for becoming my Heir, you will never have to worry about money, contacts beyond reproach would be accessible to you, you will have to socialize at certain events for appearances sake, a new wardrobe befitting of your status, and any career path will be open to you."

Tom hummed softly in the back of his throat as he thought it all over. "What sort of rules would be expected?" he asked softly, gazing up at her with cold blue eyes.

"Simple ones, don't get into trouble, or at least, don't get caught, stay on top of your schoolwork, any path you choose to follow I would expect you to accomplish and not back out willy-nilly. Don't accept any marriage proposals without talking to me first. Simple things like that." She waved a hand idly, "You would also have access to all of the Peverell properties, all five of them. A trust Vault would be yours to use until you gain access to the main Vault at seventeen, though you would not be able to withdraw more than a certain amount or any items without my approval and presence. You would not be able to have any physical, magical, blood or soul related magics performed on you that would change your essence without my approval as that could change the status of you being the Heir. I would also give you the option of having a personal House elf, one that would help you with matters. However, there would be a stipulation with that. You would not be able to harm or ask, insist, persuade, etcetera, the house elf to harm itself in any way and should at any point your health or life be in danger, the house elf would immediately alert me. The same rule applies for all of the House Elves who honor the Peverell name so please keep that in mind. I do not tolerate those who abuse their House Elves."

The wizard's eyebrows rose in surprise, staring at her intently. The offer was tempting, very tempting. But there had to be a catch. Life had taught him that there was always a catch. "What is the catch? What do you get out of me joining the Peverell family?"

Harry stared hard at him for a moment, green eyes narrowing, lips thinning and Tom felt something similar to instinctual fear creep down his spine. Her body immediately tensed, face growing stiff. The very air between them seemed to crackle with magic. Her dark hair flowed in soft curls around her face, it framed the unnatural green that glowed in her eyes. The moment passed as the looked faded away as quickly as it came and her face smoothed back out into the beautiful, lively expression it held before, making Tom wonder for the first time, if it was simply a mask made to throw off everyone around her. She certainly was someone to keep an eye on. "I forgot that you are a Slytherin, Tom, it is most natural to be wary of someone unknown in front of you. I tip my head towards your instincts." The witch sighed softly before smiling as if what she was about to say was an inside joke between the two. "By declaring an Heir, it simply means that I can reject any marriage proposal until I so choose that I wish to marry and find a consort. I have no intention of that for many years to come. If you accept, it would mean less of a pressure from other Purebloods families to accept a marriage proposal. Though it wouldn't stop the proposals but I wouldn't have to worry about continuing the family line, you would be ensuring that as Heir."

"Ah." Tom leaned back in the sette, eyes hooded as he thought. "To reiterate, you would essentially become a patron of me, providing for whatever I need, paying my expenses, providing tutors, a place to stay and I just have to behave socially acceptable?"

Harry grinned, "Pretty much, and if you do accept, for Yuletide holidays, you will be staying with me, where we would conduct the ritual and start going over everything you need to learn. In the meantime, if you do accept, I am willing to lend some books to you that should help begin your transition to Heir."

"May I have some time to ponder over this, as it should not be taken lightly?" He inquired, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. He spent many hours keeping a pristine appearance as he didn't want to be known as someone who looked sloppy or uncaring.

"Of course!" She beamed at him, "As a parting gift between us, I shall leave you with a copy of the familial records." The witch pointed her wand at the scroll containing the Peverell family tree before muttering, "Gemino!" And with a silent pop, an identical scroll appeared before the witch picked up the copy and held it out to the young man.

Tom waited a second before reaching out and taking it, placing it next to his lap on the sette. He dipped his head towards her, "My thanks, Lady Peverell."

"I also have a copy of the agreement to become the Heir, should you accept, simply sign it with a blood quill - nasty things - and then mail to me. Until then, I shall await for your owl." The witch flicked her hand, sending her wand up her sleeve, making Tom's eyes narrow at the thought of her having access to a wand holder, those were exceedingly expensive, something that typically only Lords, Ladies and wealthy, wealthy heirs could afford. She passed him the second parchment before the woman stood up, dusting her robes off before smiling at him, "It was pleasant to make your acquaintance, Tom. I do hope to hear from you soon."

Tom bowed lightly, just enough that it wasn't disrespectful while keeping his eyes on her wand arm. She had made her wand appear and disappear so quickly, she obviously knew how to duel, and most likely, efficiently. It would not do for him to be caught off guard. "Thank you for meeting with me, Lady Peverell."

The witch walked back to the Floo before tossing some Floo powder from her pocket into the fireplace and calling out, "Sheffield House." Within a blink of an eye, she stepped into the fire and disappeared.

Tom spent several long minutes after she left, staring at the space she had sat in as his mind turned over everything that had just happened. With her endorsement, he could easily begin his career in politics, without having to go the long way and start at the very bottom in a useless department. He could easily become a researcher or assistant to a Department Head, especially with the ringing endorsements he would receive from every Professor except Dumbledore. He slid the parchment carefully into his pocket after shrinking it. He wanted to spend some time going over the family tree as he showed the family he had ever known.

The sixth year Slytherin made his way back towards the common room, his mind deep in thought. This witch, had just given him the tools he needed to shape the future. He could begin building his own wealth and prestige. A dark smirk flashed across his face in the privacy of the empty hallway before it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. It wouldn't do for anyone to see something other than the perfect Prefect Tom Riddle who would some be known as Tom Peverell.

He didn't bother hissing at the painting guarding the entrance to the common room, at the mere sight of him, it opened with a silent hiss of, "Heir of Slytherin". It was only a moment later that he walked down the steps in the luxurious common room. For a House that boasted of being almost entirely Purebloods, the room easily showed the vast amount of wealthy that parents had graciously donated to it. Comfy and stylish settees and love seats made up the main focus of the room with several desks up against the far wall with silencing charms place on them for studying. A long table to the right wall held a large spread of healthy snacks and appetizers should anyone feel peckish. The fireplace, ornate and elaborate, took over much of the wall that remained, producing enough heat that it kept the entire room at a reasonable temperature despite its location deep in the dungeons. Tom immediately took notice of several seventh years who sat off to the side, drinking tea and quietly talking. To their right, Abraxas Malfoy and several of the numerous people he had recruited sat, quietly reading, sharing notes or talking amongst themselves.

He made his way towards them, noting how Levi immediately moved over so that he would have his usual spot to sit. Tom sat down, sending a nod in Lestrange's direction before turning to Abraxas with a charming smile. "I regret to inform you, Abraxas, that I will be unable to attend Yuletide celebrations with you this year, will you send my apologies to your mother for my absence this year?"

Abraxas raised a perfectly blond eyebrow, "But of course, though she may wonder why you will be not be attending the holiday with us as you have for the past several years now." The Malfoy Heir stated, staring at the Heir of Slytherin with surprise.

Tom smiled darkly, hands clasped together, resting on the arm of the settee and crossed his legs. Every move was effortless and provided him with the air of someone who was both immaculate and personable. "It would seem that not only am I related to Slytherin but to the Peverell's as well. This Yule, I will be blood adopted as Heir to the Most Ancient and Royal House of Peverell."

Conversations paused as those around him gave him their complete attention. Tom relished in the idea that these Purebloods were oh-so-willing to listen to the fact that he, a halfblood, had better lineage than all of them put together. Even Malfoy, for all of his, boasting, was still considered a foreign pureblood as his family had come over from France with his grandfather. He had actual royalty flowing through his veins.

"Congratulations are in order then, Riddle." Abraxas proclaimed, clapping his hands together. "After Samhain, we will host a party to celebrate your proper entrance into society."

Walburga chimed in from her seat across from them, "Father will be most intrigued by the Heir of Peverell being you, Riddle. He has mentioned before how he has believed that you will be going places and he was correct." The witch beamed happily, as if she hadn't spent their first year ignoring him.

Tom glanced over at the Purebloods in his year. Walburga Black, Levi Lestrange, Eli Mulciber, Chi Wray, Franklin Campton, Margot Droope, Cynthia Crouch and Elladora Gamp. Nine including himself of his year in Slytherin. In the years below his, he had recruited Orion Black, a third year; Alfred Avery, a fifth year; Cygnus Black also a third year like his cousin; Druella and Evan Rosier, twins who were both a fourth year in Ravenclaw; Carter Carrow, a fourth year Ravenclaw. The older students had been harder to attract but he had managed to make allies of Abraxas Malfoy, Lucretia Black, Forry Gibbon, a Ravenclaw, and Marius Findley, who had graduated the year before. A group primarily in Slytherin and Ravenclaw but each with different aspirations in life that would help Tom out significantly in the future.

He knew that Gibbon was going to follow in his father's footsteps and join the Unspeakables. Druella already had been accepted for an apprenticeship with the Medi-Witch. Mulciber's family were all Ambassadors for the British ministry to Germany, which was a good thing to have on his side especially with the way that things were looking with Grindlewald. And every single one of them were Purebloods with prejudice that he could easily use to manipulate them however he wished.

When he didn't reply to Walburga's statement, Elladora Gamp was quick to send a cutting remark to the girl, assuming that her comment had earned her disfavor with their esteemed Prefect. "Perhaps, Walburga, your father's presumptions are borderline rude as wasn't it just three years ago that your family snubbed him at the train station, quite rudely, if I remember right." A smug smirk appeared on her face at the ugly red that grew on the other Purebloods girls face.

Tom ignored their squabble, as he typically did whenever the girls got especially cutthroat with each other in an attempt to impress him. The wizard turned his attention back to Abraxas, who was lounging in his seat, watching the verbal battle with hidden glee. "I believe a party will be just what we need. I assume you will be able to prepare everything for it?"

Abraxas glanced over at the other wizard for a moment before giving a sharp nod, watching as the two girls threw barely subtle insults at each other. "Of course, it will be befitting of an Heir of an Ancient and Royal house."

"Perhaps," Tom said a bit louder than he would have to gain the attention of those around him, "You should wait to inform your parents in my change in position until my future Head of House chooses to inform everyone." His smile was dark and dangerous for all of those near him, promising retribution for any who dared disobey him. At the cowed expressions on the two girls faces, he couldn't stop the smirk before glancing at Abraxas, "Of course, you should mention to your mother that I will be unable to join you so she doesn't plan to include me."

Tom leaned back, enjoying the fire's warmth and the subdued tone that hung in the air. He loved knowing just how much he controlled those around him. Everything was turning out just perfectly.

"Mistress Harry called for Sipsy?" The house elf asked after appearing in the study with a near-silent pop. Her large floppy ears nearly covered her large doe-like eyes that shined brightly at the thought of being able to help the witch.

"Thank you Sipsy for coming, I have an errand for you to run for me. Do you remember that ritual I did several months ago? I need you to go gather the ingredients you got last time again for me. I just received Tom's letter that he wants to join the family." The witch turned away from her desk, where she was reading over a blood ritual book. While they hadn't been banned yet, she knew it was just a matter of years before Dumbledore had the power to put a stop to them.

"Yes Mistress, Sipsy remembers. But Sipsy doesn't remember all the things Mistress will need." The House Elf looked dejected at the thought, a lifetime of being told that her only worth was serving couldn't stop the pang in the House Elf's heart from not having a better memory.

"That's alright Sipsy, I had to look it up again to make sure that it would all be correct myself. I wrote down what I need and the quantities; on monday, will you please go to the apothecary and retrieve them for me?" Harry asked, handing over a rolled up piece of parchment to the House Elf who straightened from her hunched position.

After graciously accepting the parchment as if it were an Order of Merlin, Sipsy curtsied as she had been taught, showing off the elegantly stitched dress that had been made for every female House Elf. The Peverell coat of arms was displaced on the left side. With another near-silent pop, Sipsy disappeared back to her chores.

Harry leaned back in her seat. She already knew some of the rumors being spread about her, how strange she was with foreign ideas. As a test, she had hired an etiquette Professor to teach her Elves how to serve any high profile guests she had. The woman, a Mrs. Eleanor Teague, had at first been flabbergasted but since Harry had paid a little extra for discretion, the woman had done as was asked, though not before sending odd glances in her direction the entire time. Harry had been pleased enough to sign a contract to hire her again when she accepted Tom as her Heir. The woman had immediately asked if she could start planning lessons to start once he arrived on Yule break, which Harry agreed. The more knowledge he was able to have, the quicker she wouldn't have to worry about him accidentally insulting someone.

She picked up her quill with her left hand as she pulled a piece of parchment out from the pile. With quick, elegant strokes, she penned out a letter.

Teddy,

I hope school has been fun and that you aren't getting into too much trouble. How are your classes going? Are you having trouble in any of them? Have you made any friends outside of the Weasley clan?

Remember that I am only an owl away. Simply ask for Mortimer the owl and he shall deliver any letter you need to me. I've been called away for a few months and I'm afraid that I won't see you for Yule. I'm sure that Ron and Hermione wouldn't mind you staying with them if you wanted to come home for the holidays. Grandmum Molly will probably be making roast again for Yule and you know how she gets. Grandma Andy would also love seeing you, and I remember her telling me that she wanted to show you the sights in Italy (but don't tell her I told you!).

I miss you so much, my little wolf and if you need me, simply let me know and I will be there within minutes. Nothing is more important than you. Don't forget to owl-order presents for your professors and friends, as that is one good way of ensuring that they will keep you in a favorable light (especially if you take after me and your mother and father).

I want some photos of you and your friends so that I can carry some around with me. I love you so much sweetie and I can't wait for you to tell me all of your adventures.

With much love,

Harry

Harry slipped the letter in an envelope before calling out, "Death, I have need of you."

Silent as always, the being appeared from the shadows in the corner of the room. It paused beside her, hands empty of the scythe it was usually seen with. "Yes, my mistress?"

"I need you to send this letter to Teddy in my timeline please. A month or two before Yule break should work." The Mistress of Death asked, holding it out.

"You ask and you shall receive, my dear one." An empty sleeve reached out before the corner of the envelope was touched by shadows and it disappeared. "There is something else you wish to ask of me, what is it?" It asked bluntly, the hood of its cloak tilting to the side.

Harry paused, pursing her lips together before asking, "Will you watch over Teddy please? I worry about him. And I am no longer there to immediately care for him." She sent a direct stare to inform it that she placed the blame onto it for that factor.

Despite not being able to see it, Harry had the distinct impression that smiling amusedly at her. "But of course, as he is yours and you are mine." Without another word, it turned and walked back towards the shadows and promptly disappeared.

Shaking her head in exasperation, the witch glanced over the remaining paperwork that needed to be looked over. Most of it had to be proofread and rewritten, there were rental agreements that needed to be edited and a business opportunity that needed investigating to make sure that it was worth it.

With a slow, relaxed air about her, Harry made her way out of her study, leaving behind the parchment documents that she would have to finish looking over later. Today was too fine of a day to spend it cooped up inside. She made her way to her chambers, a lavish styled room with elegant and silk curtains and fabric. Tilly had gone through and made sure that every room was adorned in the softest silk she could find. With the dark oak furniture to the soft greens and blacks of the room, Harry felt comfortable. She made her way to a large mirror standing in the corner, taking a moment to see all the changes that the blood adoption had given her. Before, her hair had been a dark brunette that was wild and untamable. Now, it was the darkest of blacks with a soft blue undertone that showed only in the sunlight. Now, instead of dry and wild, her hair had turned soft and silky.

Her skin had changed from a dark, natural tan to a soft fair pale as if she had never had sunlight touch her skin. Her skin had cleared up some and the scar that had always been on her forehead had been erased. Her cheekbones had sharpened, resulting in a slight change to her face making her seem more aristocratic than she had been previously. Freckles scattered themselves across her nose and under her eyes, which remained just as vibrant as they always had been. While she hadn't gotten taller, the body she had now instead of the sickly, malnourished form she had had after years of living with the Dursley's, was healthy, lean and womanly. And a strange new addition, on her left ear helix, a small red birthmark had formed. After looking through several journals, she had come to discover that it was something that every Peverell had carried. It was a mark of the blood that now predominantly flowed through her veins.

It had taken over two days before she had noticed her body had filled out, and she no longer had to wear a glamour as her body aged to her appropriate age. No longer was she cursed with a seventeen year old body, she now had the body of a healthy twenty-eight year old. Curves had grown where for the longest time, there hadn't been any. It felt both odd and exhilarating to see what she should have looked like, if James and Lily Potter had lived. A tender smile grew on her face, that moment in the Forbidden Forest, being able to see and feel the pure love her parents had for her stuck with her even to this day. Now, she had the chance to change the life of one Tom Riddle and hopefully, set things right.

Teddy was always on her mind and she was constantly doing her best to make sure that he always felt loved. Joining the Weasley's for family gatherings and holidays helped plus seeing his Grandmother Andromeda helped. Harry had always made sure that he grew up with stories of his parents and how much they loved him. After a talk with Hagrid one day, she'd gone around and gathered every picture she could find of the duo, just as Hagrid had done for her, and had given it to him for his fifth birthday so he'd have something to look at.

Tom had never received any love, he had been deprived of it his entire life and Harry wanted to change that. Tom Riddle was completely different from Lord Voldemort. Lord Voldemort was evil. Tom, was a child who craved attention because he had no one to care for him. Nature versus nurture. Harry wanted to ensure that Tom Riddle would never become the monster that Lord Voldemort was, and it all started with the first Horcrux. If she could prevent him from making his first one, she could stop him from becoming a monster.

In the contract, which she was sure that he had read over but may not have fully understood, she had written it so that he would not be able to undergo any rituals or perform any magic that could possibly change something about him, whether it was physical, magically, blood or soul related. Magic Herself would not allow him to do anything that could change that without the Head of the Household approving. Officially it was so that his status as Heir could not be contested but in reality, she had written that clause in so that he could not make a Horcrux without her approval, something that she never would allow. Another thing she had made sure that he was clear on was that the name Riddle and all of those who carried the name would hold no meaning to him. Essentially, his father would be wiped from ever being apart of creating him and instead, the Peverell genes would take over, essentially making him a pureblood.

This clause had made it so that if she failed in her task of stopping him, he would never be able to do the ritual to bring his body back that he had back in her fourth year. It would not work as he would cast out the name Riddle and accept the name Peverell. It was something that she had agonized over for weeks getting the right wording in the contract so he couldn't find a loophole.

Shaking her head out of the thoughts that plagued her, she turned away from the mirror, turning to her armoire and opening the doors, revealing her wardrobe within. "Sipsy," she called out after not seeing her outdoor clothes.

Popping in beside her, Sipsy bowed once, "Mistress be calling Sipsy?"

Harry sent a gentle smile in her direction, "Would you happen to know where my trousers are?"

Sipsy nodded her head eagerly, "Sipsy had Tully fixing a hole, she did! Sipsy be grabbing them now!" She snapped her fingers and the trousers appeared with a silent pop.

"Ah, thank you Sipsy! I appreciate your help. I'd be lost without all of you caring for me." The house elf beamed back at the praise before bowing once more and disappearing.

With a quick change from the robes to the trousers and a cotton shirt, the witch made her way out of the room and headed outside. The cool air sent a small shiver down her spine as she made her way across the cobbled walkway and towards the gardens. Sheffield House was certainly a good buy, one that she felt proud to own. When she had arrived, the house hadn't been taken care of though it was in good condition. Her and the Elves had had to go through and clean each room of dust and begin adding up to date styles and furniture so it didn't look so medieval. The outside had also needed some tender love and Harry had spent many days toiling under the sun with the help of Yumbo and Guffy caring for the garden and building the pastures for the animals.

Now, all of their hard work showed in the vibrant flowers that grew and the trees that had begun coming back to life after several years of not being cared for. Harry had asked for all of the Elves once the Sheffield House had been looking good to go to the other properties she owned and to make sure that they all matched the same so that any time she wanted to travel to one, it would be livable.

She had found that gardening was very relaxing, especially without the threat of not being able to eat hanging over her head. Harry had fun, spending hours caring for the plants that cultivated and she was so thankful to Neville for teaching her some useful spells to help. While she would never be as skilled with plants as he was, she could hold her own. At least she wasn't like Aunt Petunia, who whenever she tried to care for the plants, would almost immediately die. In a way, Harry almost thought that her aunt would have had magic considering how quickly she had witnessed plants withering under her touch.

The witch knelt down in the dirt and began getting rid of weeds that poked through. This was definitely a relaxing way to spend her days.

Several weeks later, and Harry stood on the platform of 9 and ¾'s. Parents and younger siblings not of age, bustled around her as they all waited for the train to arrive. She had noticed several pureblood parents glancing at her confused, as it was well known that she was the last Peverell. It was with hidden amusement as she waited to see which family would be the first to approach her. She had chosen to present herself in high-esteem as this was one of the many times that Purebloods used to look and judge each other. Her robes were in black with a dark green trim, as a nod to Tom's house though not that anyone knew yet. The color scheme also brought out her pale skin and dark hair, making her stand out even more than she would have normally. A matching green ribbon was wound around her hair, pulling it into a low-hanging ponytail, pulling the silky hair back out of her face.

She had Sipsy help her with her makeup, to make it the most stunning without it smearing or looking too dark with her pale skin. Despite living as a witch full time for the past several years, she still couldn't grasp the makeup charms for the life of her, choosing instead to go natural as much as she could.

It was the sight of the Head of Ancient and Most Noble house of Black Arcturus' wife, Melania Black nee McMillan, along with another Black wife, Irma Black nee Crabbe making their way towards her that she realized that they would be the first to approach her. Which she had expected, though it had been a toss up between a Black or a Malfoy greeting her first. She inclined her head towards them in greeting, once they stopped. Melania glanced her over before seemingly approving as she greeted her, "I hope the day has treated you well, Lady Peverell."

Harry smiled pointedly at her, "It has, Lady Black. I have found that I am looking for the holidays."

"Oh?" Lady Black asked, raising a groomed eyebrow in slight surprise.

"Yes, I am picking up my Heir. I am hoping to host a party after Yule to celebrate his entrance into society." Harry couldn't help the spike in amusement that shot through her at the surprised looks on the two women's faces.

Irma Black was the first to reply as Melania took a moment to gather her thoughts. Harry had a feeling she was going over the list of possible candidates in Hogwarts. "Oh my, what a surprise! I didn't know you had an Heir!"

"Yes, Mrs. Black, we are making it official once we return to the manor. I believe that he is in the same year as your daughter, Walburga, sixth year, correct?" Harry asked, glancing at Cygnus Black's wife.

"That is right," Irma answered back, taking a moment to glance at Melania.

"Oh? That is quite surprising. My congratulations then from the House of Black towards the prosperity towards your House, Lady Peverell." Melania replied, sending a nod towards her.

"The House of Peverell thanks you for your well-wishes." Their conversation was interrupted by the whistling blowing of the train as it grew closer. The trio of women said their goodbyes before the two Blacks made their way back to where they had been standing originally, with several other Purebloods families.

Harry watched with keen eyes from the corner of her vision as Irma Black quickly spread the juicy bit of gossip she had. A soft smirk grew on her lips, within the next few days, she would send out letters inviting prominent families to the manor for a celebration of the new Heir, as was custom, though it typically happened once the new Heir had been born, in her and Tom's case, it was happening sixteen years later.

The train pulled to a stop in the platform and within moments, students began pouring out of the train. Harry watched with sharp eyes, noting familial features in certain students pass by, students that held a strong resemblance to students she had grown up with. It was one such student, who looked almost exactly like Cedric Diggory that had her flinching and walking as far away as she could from him. It was as she walked away that her gaze settled on Tom, who stood quietly talking with a blond seventh year, who Harry could easily figure out was a Malfoy.

"Tom!" Harry called out, watching as he turned, pausing in his conversation to stare at her. She beamed a bright smile at him, noting how Malfoy had immediately straightened at her presence. "Excited for the holidays?"

"Yes, Lady Peverell." Tom answered, nodding his head at her in respect. "May I introduce my companion, Heir Malfoy of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy. Heir Malfoy, may I introduce my Head of House, Lady Peverell of the Ancient and Royal House of Peverell."

"Well met, Lady Peverell." Malfoy murmured, bowing slightly at her before he kissed the back of her hand that she outstretched for him. And it was certainly something that she almost wanted to taunt at Draco, his grandfather, kissing the back of her hand in respect.

Harry turned to glance the Malfoy Heir over, noting with hidden amusement at the soft flush that graced his cheeks at her paying him attention. She turned her gaze back on Tom, who was staring at his friend with narrowed eyes as if trying to figure out why he was blushing. She could barely hold back the unladylike snort that threatened to overtake her as she asked, "Ready to go?"

Tom nodded once before asking, "How shall we be arriving?"

"I'll be apparating us the first time, easier that way so I can include you in the wards." She held out her arm, noting how carefully he placed his hand on her sleeve before she winked, "Hold your breath and it was nice to meet you, Heir Malfoy!"

A very unpleasant moment later, the duo appeared in front of the Sheffield House. Harry took a moment to glance around the view, taking note of the house, the fields, garden, and the beautiful view around them. "Welcome home, Tom."


Author's Note: 1. I don't own the Three Brother's story, obviously.

Oh! Someone asked how old Harry is in this, she is twenty-eight.

Let me know what you think, my dears!