December 1991

Harry woke up with a start. His heart was beating painfully fast and his breathing was unsteady. He looked around the room frantically, not recognising the dark green and black designs of the resplendent room. He gripped his duvet tightly as he tried to rationalise where he was.

I'm at Marvolo's home, he realised. His heart rate slowed as his breaths became steadier. Harry has been staying with him for the past two days. He fought back the tears that began to gather in his eyes as images of the cupboard under the stairs materialised behind his closed eyes; images of the Dusleys, his aunt's sneering look, his uncle's meaty fists and his cousin's mean sniggers. He hugged the duvet closer to his chest, curling into a foetal position on the huge bed, wishing there was someone next to him to hold him and tell him everything was okay.

Harry was out of the door before he even realised what he was doing. He had no idea where Marvolo was or if he was awake, but something deep in him told him the man was still around. He ran through the dark hallways entirely on instinct and finally spotted who he was looking for after rounding corner after corner. He paused as Marvolo's eyes flickered to him.

Harry suddenly felt the urge to fidget when he was met with the brunt of Marvolo's greyish-blue gaze. "Why are you awake, Harry?"

"U-uh… are you going somewhere?" he asked instead, eyeing the fancier-than-normal formal robes that Marvolo had donned.

"You are avoiding my question. Why are you awake?"

Harry began to fiddle with the loose thread of his nightclothes, feeling extremely silly. What was he thinking? Marvolo was a Death Eater, for Merlin's sake! He doesn't have time for this! "I… N-nothing… I-I'm going back to sleep… Goodnight," he stuttered out in a rush, turning back where he came from. He got about two steps away before he felt a force pinning him still. When he was released from the magical grip, he swallowed and turned back around to face Marvolo, who was watching him with an unreadable expression.

"You sought me out. You must want something; Out with it." Harry thought he sounded irritated.

"I… It's nothing… I-I just can't really sleep… but that's not important- I-I'm gonna go now-"

"And stare at the ceiling for two hours?" Harry distinctly felt that he was being chastised and bowed his head, wishing he'd never gotten the idea to find Marvolo. Of course he would think it was stupid! Besides, he was already eleven, the nightmares shouldn't be affecting him so much anymore!

"I will tell you something I learned early on," he continued in a milder tone and Harry's interest peaked. "If you are unable to fall asleep, there is little point lying down— the harder you pursue sleep, the more elusive it becomes," Harry looked at him attentively. "Pick up a book; do your holiday assignments; practise what I taught you today; or better yet, uncover the source of your insomnia. The point is, there is a lot you can get done. Do not waste your time, Harry. Consider this a life lesson."

Harry nodded quickly, asking the man sitting in the armchair tentatively, "Can I stay with you?" Marvolo frowned at him.

"Go back to your room, Harry."

"Okay," he acquiesced meekly, but the Dark Lord felt the boy's magic reach out, clinging onto him almost desperately. The boy couldn't be doing this consciously, which only left the answer that he was under some sort of emotional duress. The Dark Lord released a weary breath. He didn't quite realise how needy children were, even magically powerful ones. Or he thought dryly, especially magically powerful ones.

"Is your room not to your liking?" he inquired, probing into the cause of the child's stress.

"What?" At the rise of an impatient eyebrow, Harry said quickly, "No- I mean, yes! I mean-" The boy paused, eyebrows furrowed in thought as he considered his words carefully, "The room is perfect, I just… It's just… I- Well-"

"Don't stutter, Harry; It is unbecoming." Harry fell silent and took a deep breath.

"I…" He took a deep breath, "May I please stay with you?" he asked again, his voice slightly shaky, and the Dark Lord was ready to order him back to his room again until he felt another wave of genuine distress emanating from Harry. His lips curled slightly as he considered his options.

"Let us retire to my study. You may stay on the condition you occupy yourself productively, and that you return to your room at the first sign of fatigue," he said, sounding somewhat resigned. Harry brightened immediately, and the Dark Lord had to wonder how this little boy could stir up feelings he had barely felt even before he created his horcruxes. He turned sideways and gestured for Harry to walk in front of him. Harry took a step forward but halted.

"I'll bring my homework!" he said, turning the opposite direction, leaving Marvolo standing in the hallway with his arms crossed. He returned a few minutes later with textbooks, parchment, a quill and ink.

He followed the well-dressed man to the study and when Marvolo pushed open the study door, he was met with the increasingly familiar sight of a neatly kept office. The desk was tidy aside from a piece of half-filled parchment sitting in the middle and a beautiful black quill accented with white streaks and a beige plume sat in an inkwell filled with dark red ink.

Harry sat down at the desk, and the Dark Lord watched his young student flip open his Transfiguration textbook to the relevant page and smooth the book down so it laid flat on the tabletop. He opened his bottle of black ink and carefully dipped the tip of his quill into the ink vial, brushing the access off on the lip of the bottle and began to write. The Dark Lord had to wonder why he didn't immediately tell the boy off for sitting at his desk without his permission, but with all the leeway he had already given him, he thought that was fairly inconsequential at this point.

The Dark Lord pulled a book off the shelf and watched Harry work for a little longer as he settled into a plush armchair, before returning to the book in hand. He wasn't reading the words on the page however, instead letting his mind wander slightly. He found it quite amusing that this boy, who had just allowed a blob of ink to drip onto his desk— and then gotten his hands stained with black ink in his haste to clean it up— was, in some sense, his equal. If he had told his past self that he would one day encounter someone he even remotely considered his equal, his past self would likely have laughed in his face. And probably try to Crucio me for impersonation, he thought wryly.

"I had a nightmare just now."

The soft voice drew the Dark Lord out of his musing, and his eyes flickered briefly to Harry, looking up from the book grasped between his fingers, his thumb pausing as he was about to turn the page. He gave his attention to the boy that had just occupied his thoughts.

Harry was spinning the quill in his hand slowly, stopping in hastily when ink splattered onto his parchment. Harry met his gaze briefly, before he added quietly, "I used to live with my muggle relatives… they weren't very nice people… and they didn't like magic very much," The Dark Lord filled in the blanks, feeling somewhat unsettled as another point of commonality between them was revealed.

"When was the last time you saw them?"

"24th of August, 1986," he said with certainty, but added softly, "It was the best day of my life." When he continued paying him attention, Harry seemed to muster the courage to tell him more. "I'm really happy that I've come here, but sometimes it still makes me sad to think that they've never… cared about me…" Harry's face crumpled as he said the last part, and the Dark Lord realised in muted horror that if the boy started crying, he could hardly offer him any comfort. In fact, he would likely make him feel worse. Thankfully, the boy seemed to win the wrestle with his emotions.

"Sometimes, I dream that I'm still living with them… I think it's when I go to sleep in a new place." He shrugged slightly, "I don't know why it still bothers me."

Memories of the orphanage he grew up in surfaced, unbidden. London during the thick of the Blitz. Lying awake in apprehension of the shrill warning klaxons. The horrifying whistle-

He clenched his fist and ruthlessly shoved the memories into a mental box. He wasn't a master Legilimens without reason. Still, the experience had taught him that people can never be controlled by fear alone. It was why they saw the Old Ministry's recruitment numbers against his campaign fall after he ordered an end to the terror raids his Death Eaters foolishly thought effective.

Looking at the distressed boy sitting in his study, he said, "It will bother you for a long time," Harry frowned in consternation and the Dark Lord held up a hand and continued, "But that does not mean you will not rise above it; My past still haunts me from time to time," he added, somewhat appalled by how uncharacteristically gentle his voice was.

At Harry's look of interest, the Dark Lord hummed, choosing to change the subject quickly by revealing, "August 24th of 1981 was the best day of my life as well." Harry watched him with wide-eyes, silently begging to be told the story behind the significance of the date. The Dark Lord relented— he was already giving Harry so much freedom around him, what was another little story in the scheme of things?

"The Battle of Hogwarts. The realisation that the War would be ending soon." he reminisced. Harry continued looking at him in wonder.

"You were there?" The Dark Lord allowed a snort of amusement to escape him. He had been the main event, really.

"I was," he confirmed with an ironic smile.

"Wow…" Harry whispered, "What was it like?" He closed his eyes at the question, recalling the horrors of war that even he, as incomplete as his soul was, would not wish to relive.

"Chaotic," he said simply, "It is something I hope you will never know intimately."

"Is that why you're a Death Eater?" he asked, "To protect the peace?"

The Dark Lord felt his lips quirk up. The innocence of a child was quite, dare he say, precious. Of course his cause had the best intentions behind it, but he was not blind to the suffering he had a major hand in bringing to the Wizarding World. He did not regret it- their world had been falling apart at the seams and his new government had done, in ten years, what the Old Ministry could not fix in centuries. The Wizarding World was so much safer and more prosperous - but the price for their relative peace now had been high.

"I strive for the betterment of Wizarding Britain," he corrected, "Whether that calls for the protection or challenge of the status quo, I will act upon it," he paused, contemplating his next words. He decided now was as good an opportunity as any other for him to teach Harry a little more about the world they live in. The boy was young, but intelligent, and if he didn't understand what the Dark Lord was telling him, he had plenty of time to figure it out.

"In any society, there are two forms of mass political participation— conventional and unconventional. The War was the culmination of unconventional political participation, and it happens when a large portion of a population are unhappy with their government but have little means of expressing their discontentment legally."

"What were people unhappy about?" Harry inquired, having a vague idea from his Basic History classes in primary school, but wanting to hear from someone who had experienced it firsthand.

"Many things, little serpent; a civil war doesn't happen without a myriad of factors," he said somewhat cryptically, "But I suppose the most significant factor was the erosion of Wizarding cultures and customs in the Old Ministry. The assimilation of muggle cultures was pushing our world and culture into grave danger, and the Old Ministry began to lose support. When the government loses support, they destabilise, and political instability will see people flocking to factional leaders for guidance."

Harry frowned, thinking over his words, "I'm not sure I get it..."

The Dark Lord dipped his head. "You are still young. You will understand when you are older," he said, knowing Harry had the drive to learn about his world, the idea was just too abstract for a child in his First-Year. Harry nodded in acceptance. He suppressed a yawn, not wanting to be sent back to his room, but Marvolo was far too astute for him.

"I believe you will find rest easier now. You should return to bed." Harry pouted, but Marvolo's tone held a finality to it that Harry couldn't quite muster up the energy in his lethargic state to argue against his mentor. He felt a brief tension pull at him as his thought drifted back to his nightmare and he felt the temptation to ask Marvolo to accompany him to his bedroom, but suppressed the desire.

"Um… g-goodnight, then…" Marvolo did not outwardly acknowledge his farewell, but paid Harry his attention as he said it. "Thanks… for talking to me," he said shyly. Marvolo gave him a nod in return. Marvolo returned to the abandoned book in his lap, and Harry turned to leave the study, until he realised something.

"I just realised… It's Yule," Harry said.

Marvolo tilted his head, his eyebrows raised slightly. "So it is," he agreed.

"H-happy Yule, Marvolo," Harry wished tentatively, the last of his nerves dissipating when Marvolo smiled so faintly, Harry almost wondered if he imagined it.

"Have a blessed Yule, little serpent," he returned, his grey-blue eyes glinting more brightly than its muted colour should be capable of. Harry left the office, feeling far lighter than he had when he first walked in. He knew, without a doubt, that sleep will indeed come much easier to him now.

Harry woke up in the morning, after a few hours of restful sleep. It was the Winter Solstice and he felt a thrum of excitement ring through him. They had never done much for the Solstice at Egladus beyond lighting candles and spending meals together, but there was always a sense of excitement and happiness buzzing in the air. They had never needed presents, only the special feast prepared for Yuletide and each other.

It made Harry a little sad that he would not be spending the time with the friends he grew up with, but he would still be spending time with someone that was special— his new teacher, who, despite everything, provided him with a comforting presence to find solace in last night. He was also someone who had a similar magical core to his own, and that would always make him special. Magic was incredibly important to Harry, after all.

Harry continued lying in his lavish bed until a knock sounded on his door ten minutes later. He padded over to the door and opened it, expecting to see Marvolo there. He was a little disappointed to find Mipsy the house-elf standing behind the door, but the disappointment faded quickly when she said, "Master be wanting Harry Potter to join Master for breakfast."

"N-now?" Harry asked. Mipsy nodded emphatically, reaching out with her bony hands as if she was ready to pull Harry down to the dining room if he refused. Harry took a step back, and the house-elf enclosed into his personal space quickly.

"W-wait, Mipsy, I need to change!" The elf in question looked him up and down, and Apparated directly to his closet, pulling it open to reveal clothes he had never seen in his life. They looked expensive too. Mipsy jumped up to grab a few outfits off the hangers, and Harry suspected she was using magic as there was no way anyone could have managed to stay airborne for such a long time. The clothes floated over to Harry, but dropped unceremoniously over his head. He pulled the clothes off his head and jumped when he saw Mipsy was right in front of him, staring with joy in it's huge eyes.

"Harry Potter can change now!" she exclaimed, pulling Harry into the en-suite bathroom and pulling the door shut behind him. Harry took a deep breath, staring at the locked door, wondering if all house-elves had this over-the-top enthusiasm. He shook his head and began getting ready for the day.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom fresher and more well-dressed than before, and nearly tripped over the eager house-elf standing with her face likely pressed against the bathroom door. Her face lit up when she saw Harry, and a hand shot out and grabbed his arm. Before he could even muster a yelp of surprise, he felt the familiar yet unwelcome feeling of Side-Along Apparition popping him into existence at the dining room. He found Marvolo sitting at the head of the table with an impressive breakfast spread before him.

"Thank you, Mipsy." The elf turned to look at her master with large, adoring eyes.

"Is Master be needing anything else from Mipsy?" she asked, and when Marvolo dismissed her with a shake of his head and a wave of his hand, she bowed so deeply her nose nearly touched the floor, and snapped her finger, popping out of sight.

Harry watched the exchange in surprise. "I've never seen a house-elf so… happy," he commented. There were house-elves at Egladus, and he was sure there were house-elves at Hogwarts despite not having seen any of them, but none of them were nearly quite so subservient or devoted to their masters. Marvolo huffed in amusement, and gestured towards the empty seat next to him. Harry walked over and settled in next to Marvolo, grabbing a piece of toast off the spread in front of him.

"A lot of wizards underestimate house-elves because of their small stature but, as you might know, size does not translate to power," Harry opened his mouth to rebuff that backhanded compliment but Marvolo held up a finger to silence him, and Harry closed his mouth with a pout when he saw the amused look on his teacher's face. "A house-elf will always serve its master with admirable loyalty, but the key to a house-elf's adoration is simply being polite to them… It is rather impressive what those little things can accomplish for you with their magic when they want to."

Marvolo paused to take a bite out of a piece of toast. "Be nice to house-elves, Harry. They will do a lot for you even if you are not their master. The average wizard will never respect a house-elf's power, much less think to utilise it." Marvolo said in a way that made Harry think he had probably taken advantage of many house-elves in the past. Still, he agreed with a nod, feeling grateful that his past self had accepted Marvolo's offer because there was no way otherwise he would know any of these nuggets of wisdom.

As Harry enjoyed his food, he wondered aloud, "What are we doing today?" Marvolo looked at him unfathomably, and Harry felt the need to explain himself further. "It's Yule! Are we going to do anything special?" Marvolo leaned back, considering his question.

"How did you celebrate the Solstice in the past?" he asked finally. Harry hummed in thought.

"Well, we always had an awesome feast in the evening… and we would spend the day together… there would be decorations around e dorms," Harry recalled, smiling. "How did you celebrate Yule?"

"I didn't." Harry's surprise must have shown on his face as Marvolo elaborated, "Of course, there is the Yule Ball on the eve of the Solstice, but it seems I have neglected attending this year."

"You didn't go to the Yule Ball? You mean the Ministerial Yule Ball?" Harry asked incredulously. It was the most prestigious and elegant celebration in all of Britain, not to mention its exclusiveness! Marvolo looked absolutely unimpressed. Harry gaped when he realised, "H-hold on! Is that where you were going last night? When I found you?"

Marvolo gave a noncommittal hum but Harry took it as a 'yes'. "It is not nearly as wondrous as the media might portray it, I assure you. It is simply one of Lucius Malfoy's more expensive means of posturing," he said flippantly. Harry could hardly believe what he was hearing.

"B-but he's the Head of the Ministry! Doesn't he host the Ball at the Dark Lord's courtesy?"

"He does," he agreed easily. "The Ministerial head hosts and invites attendees according to the Dark Lord's desires." Harry felt stricken at that revelation.

His voice dropped to a hush, "Wouldn't the Dark Lord be… you know… angry…? That you didn't go?"

Marvolo smiled. Or perhaps smirked would have been more accurate. "You needn't worry, Harry. I am certain the Dark Lord will forgive me," he said with great mirth. Harry frowned, not quite seeing the humour in being on the receiving end of the Dark Lord's displeasure. "He does not always attend himself," he added casually as an attempt at assurance, still smiling.

"Okay… if you say so," Harry accepted reluctantly, not wanting to cause his mentor any trouble with his own problems, but assured himself with the knowledge that Marvolo certainly seemed more than capable of handling things. And he definitely knew the Dark Lord better than Harry. "So… you don't celebrate Yule?" Harry asked, drawing the conversation back to his original question.

"No. But perhaps we can start." He stood up abruptly, and Harry looked up in alarm. "Find me in my study once you have finished breakfast, I have something for you," he said. Harry blinked, attempting to recall the way to the study. He had been there twice now, but the house was big and before he could ask, Marvolo had already turned out of the dining room. Harry peaked through the doorway in an attempt to give himself a clue as to where his teacher's elusive study might be, but the man seemed to have vanished entirely around the corner. Harry huffed as he finished his breakfast, devising plans to figure out Marvolo's whereabouts.

"What's that?" Harry asked, curious. The study had been strangely easy to find, but Harry shrugged it off as a good sense of direction. He was sitting opposite Marvolo, who had something held in his hand to inspect. He held it out for Harry. Harry accepted it, spinning it around in his hands to get a good look at it.

"A wand holster. If I am going to be teaching you, you will be needing your wand, and I can't have it stolen from you, or better yet, have it breaking if you sit on it, or falling out of your robes while you are off on another schoolboy misadventure," Marvolo said sarcastically, and Harry felt his face heat at the memory of dropping his wand when he first met the Death Eater.

"You should slot your wand within your holster when not in use. It is laughably simple to disarm someone when they are holding their wand carelessly." Harry smiled, feeling excited. He pulled out his wand from his robe pocket, grinning sheepishly at the vaguely disapproving look on Marvolo's face. He slotted his wand into the holster, thinking it was a perfect fit for his wand. He pulled it out again, and looked at Marvolo.

"How do you disarm someone?" He asked curiously. Marvolo smirked, and before Harry could react, his wand flew out of his hand. Harry's mouth fell open in surprise.

"The incantation is 'Expelliarmus', and you simply flick your wand away from your target. As your skills and power grow, you can catch your opponent by surprise with a wandless and non-verbal casting. For now, it will be greatly beneficial for pre-emptive defence, especially as your spell repertoire is rather limited right now." Marvolo's wand appeared in his palm, and he summoned Harry's wand into his free hand, giving it back to the rightful owner. "Now, disarm me."

"What!" Harry squeaked, incredulous that he expected him to be able to use a spell he had only just found out about. Regardless, Harry pointed his wand hesitantly at Marvolo when he raised an eyebrow. "S-shouldn't we do this somewhere else?" he asked, looking pointedly at the ink vials resting on the table.

"Quit stalling, Harry. Any mess you make can be cleaned up easily. Disarm me."

Harry took a deep breath and uttered, "E-Expelliarmus," but then the wand didn't even twitch in Marvolo's already loose grip.

"Confidence, Harry. Again." Harry nodded, tightening his grip on his wand and said louder, "Expelliarmus!" The white wand in his mentor's hand fell out of his grip. He gave him an appraising look, and Harry thought he might have been pleased with his success.

"Spells often depend on three aspects of the caster- power, intent and confidence. Power is inherent; there is little you can do if you are born with limited magical power. Intent and confidence on the other hand, determines which of two equally powerful wizards will win," Marvolo explained.

"You have great power; there is no doubt about that. You had the shallow intention to disarm me," When Harry looked at him in confusion, he elaborated. "True desire or intention is usually borne of intense emotion; perhaps your life is in danger, or you are influenced by a particularly joyous memory. Of course, the nuances of this school of thought will delve into Dark and Light theory, but whatever the case, what you are currently lacking, is true intent and confidence. The latter is what I will build in you over time. And for that to happen, you will need to take care of your wand." Marvolo glanced at the wand holster in Harry's grasp.

"Thank you," Harry said, feeling a simultaneous burst of gratitude and guilt. "But… I don't have a gift to exchange with you," he admitted. Marvolo made an odd expression.

"I do not need you to give me anything. I want you to learn from me." Harry looked at him with a sheepish smile and gave a minuscule shrug of self-deprecation. Despite that, he promised himself to find a present for Marvolo one day.

another chapter! let me know your thoughts, and as always, thanks for readiong!