As the Dark Lord was slowly drifting back towards consciousness, several thoughts crossed his still hazy, but overall, much clearer, and much more rested mind. Firstly, he had his body back. After a decade of being reduced to a sort of tolerated parasite, the revelation in itself was rather mind-boggling. Secondly, his magical core had somehow survived the strenuous, almost impossible task of regrowing Severus' hand moments after being resurrected. Hopefully, he had not made a mistake and the regrown hand had withered already or was flawed in some sort of way. At least he was sure that his magical core had miraculously remained undamaged, although it was still far from being completely replenished. That would take time, but time he had. And thirdly, there was a warm, comforting body holding his.

Before he could spend more thoughts on the latter revelation, his scalp began to tingle as gentle fingers slowly moved through the thick curls on his head. The fact that he had somehow managed to get a full head of hair after countless years of enduring baldness followed by a decade of not having a body at all was lost to the Dark Lord due to the pleasant feeling the warm fingers were brushing through his hair. A content sigh escaped Tom's mouth as he leaned into the touch.

"I am glad that you are finally back amongst the living," a voice very close to him whispered as the fingers continued to gently massage his scalp, "I was rather worried. You cannot imagine how relieved I am that you are finally awake, Tom."

Making a non-committal sound, Tom simply leaned closer into the touch, simply enjoying the moment. For a long time, none of them said a word, content that both of them had survived the Resurrection Ritual. After a while, the voice next to him spoke up again, although rather gently and laced with concern, "How are you?"

"Fine," was all he mumbled, before another content sigh escaped his mouth, "how are you?"

"Fine," the voice chuckled, as the fingers continued to massage his scalp, "slightly drained, but after a strenuous Ritual that should hardly be surprising."

"It really should not," the Dark Lord chuckled, before opting to cease talking, instead deciding to enjoy the cozy silence once more as he leaned into the touch, his eyes closed.

"No, it really should not," the voice whispered after minutes of pleasant silence, "although you gave us quite a scare. We agreed that it would not be a wise move to overexert your magic so soon after restoring your body."

"I have never claimed to be the wisest person on the face of the earth," Tom replied, for the first time opening his eyes. Immediately, he was awarded with the most vivid, most beautiful green eyes he had ever seen. Sure, he had seen their reflection in the mirror, but never in person. Never face to face. Never with his own eyes. To say that in reality the vivid Avada-green eyes were quite striking was an understatement. They were sparkling brighter than even the purest, most impressive green emeralds.

"No, you have not," Harry replied, seemingly equally mesmerised by the view in front of him, "still, why did you do it?"

Sighing, Tom closed his eyes for a second to contemplate his answer, "When I regained consciousness, it was to the sight of an alarmingly pale Severus desperately clutching your lifeless form, screaming… begging that you promised to heal him. During that moment, I just knew that you were in no state to live up to your words. We must have made a mistake. The Ritual was never supposed to take so much magic out of you. It should not have drained you to the extent it did. Still, there was no way to change that."

"True," Harry agreed, not averting his eyes from the resurrected Dark Lord throughout the entire explanation.

"Anyway," Tom continued, "I just knew that I had to do something. With you out, there was no one who could help Severus bar myself. Since our method only works a rather limited amount of time after the incident, waiting was not an option. Neither were any other methods. With current Healing Magic, you simply cannot regrow limbs, only reattaching. Even then, the results are often not perfectly functional. With the hand gone, the idea would have been out of the picture anyway. Leaving Severus with only one hand was simply unacceptable. He promised to help us. Therefore, we had to help him, especially since he needs both of his hands at full operability for his Potions career. Furthermore, a missing hand would have been slightly suspicious. I just had to try. Failure was not an option. Luckily, I survived."

"And your magical core?" Harry asked, one eyebrow raised, sounding rather concerned.

"Feels fine," Tom answered, shrugging his shoulders, "although it is still replenishing. I guess it is going to take a few days until I have regained my full power. The healing took a lot out of me, almost too much."

"About that," his opposite said, his eyes drifting into the distance, caught in thoughts, "I had a similar experience during the Resurrection Ritual. Do you remember?"

"Honestly, no," the Dark Lord replied, scenes of the Ritual flashing past his now thankfully corporeal eyes, although none fitting the requirements.

"Towards the end of the Ritual, shortly before I passed out," Harry whispered before his voice broke.

Without thinking, the Dark Lord reached for the slightly trembling hand of his equal, squeezing it reassuringly. Once Harry had noticeably relaxed, Tom cleared his throat, "No wonder I cannot remember."

At that point, he had been far too occupied with being ripped free, a painful process which he never hoped to endure ever again.

Humming in unspoken understanding, Harry took a deep breath to explain what had happened throughout the end of the Resurrection Ritual, "Like you said before, the Ritual depleted my magical reserves a lot more than we anticipated. Shortly before the end, they were practically empty, while most magic of my surroundings had been absorbed already. Overall, there was not much left, at least not enough to complete the Ritual. Somehow, I knew that I was doomed to fail since there was no way that I could channel that amount of magic from a larger distance. I tried anyway, pushing my magic past its limits. At first, nothing happened. Still, I kept on pushing, praying to whoever was listening to be heard. Like you said before, failure was not an option. I just could not give up, could not give in. Just when I thought that I had failed, I felt a powerful surge of magic rushing through my veins. It was no ordinary magic. It certainly was not my magic nor the magic of my surroundings. It felt much Darker, much older, and much more powerful. Ancient in a certain way. Addictive. It was something… more. I… I… Words cannot describe whatever it was."

[ Impossible ] the Dark Lord whispered, more to himself than anybody else. It just was not possible. It just could not be. It had never happened before. Never.

[ What should be impossible? ] Harry asked, a mixture of confusion and concern on his face.

Upon hearing Harry's words, uttered in the language that the Dark Lord would have never expected to hear, his eyes grew wide. After all, it should be impossible since the language was reserved for a selected elite only, [ You are speaking the Dark Tongue. ]

[ The what? ] Harry asked incredulously, clearly not having realised that he in fact had been speaking another language.

[ The Dark Tongue] Tom explained, still shaken by the discovery and its implications, [the language of the Dark Lords. Only someone who has completed a set of gruelling tasks and impossible challenges to become a Dark Lord is gifted with the knowledge of the Dark Tongue. Others cannot understand the darkest of all languages. It cannot be learnt, cannot be taught. There is only one explanation for why you are understanding what I am saying. You have… ]

[ …become a Dark Lord ] his equal whispered, his Avada green eyes glinting stronger than ever, [ but how? ]

[ The only way that I can possibly think of, ] Tom began to explain, his mind working harder than ever, [ is that our modified version of the Resurrection Ritual must have been impossible to the degree that your nearly successful attempt of completing it must have been perceived as a challenge large, or significant enough by Magic herself to fulfil the gruelling requirements of becoming a Dark Lord. While it usually is a set of tasks, there are reports of grand magic wielders who have performed incredible feats of magic in desperate times of need and as a result, were granted the privilege to call themselves Dark Lord. Apparently, you did so as well.]

For a moment, the two of them just stared at each other, before Harry asked, [ What does this mean in the grand scheme of things? ]

"Honestly," Tom said, switching back to English, "I do not know, and now certainly is not the time to speculate. I guess it will become more apparent in the future. Anyway, how long have you been conscious?"

"A couple of hours maybe," Harry answered, shrugging his shoulders, "Narcissa was alarmed that I had woken and came by immediately to check on us. She was rather concerned…"

"Sorry to interrupt you," Tom spoke up, a thought suddenly crossing his mind, "how long exactly have we been out of it?"

At those words, Harry's face contorted into a grimace, "A bit more than two days."

"Two days?" Tom asked incredulously, lifting an eyebrow, "that long?"

"Yes," Harry answered swiftly, "I was rather surprised myself when Narcissa revealed that bit of information. Apparently, Corvus Revived her shortly after you had passed out. She did not dare to use magic on us in fear of the potential backlash it could cause to our cores after the strenuous tasks we had just performed. Since there were no outward signs of damage, she made sure that we were still alive. Since we all had a pulse and using magic on us was out of the picture, she deduced that only time would tell, since we all needed rest to recover. Well…"

"What happened?" Tom asked.

"Apparently," Harry began while averting Tom's eyes for the first time, feeling ashamed of himself, "she wanted to put us in different rooms, but I started to scream… I would only stop when we were united once more…"

"Shhh, it's alright," Tom said, his words gentle as his fingers brushed over the pleasantly warm lightning bolt scar still present on Harry's forehead, "we knew that something like this could happen… That coping with a situation like this would not be easy. How… how are you coping with the… situation?"

Closing his eyes, his opposite took a deep breath, "Horrible… Just horrible… When I woke up and could not feel, could not talk to you, like I always could, it just felt like a… like a huge part of me is missing… Now that you are awake, it is slightly better… The connection is there. I can feel you again, but it is only a shadow of what it once was, especially since I cannot reach out to you… I know we talked about this… I only wish we could go through with our plan now…"

"You know that we cannot," Tom said, his voice calm and gentle, "at least not now. Neither of us currently is at full power. Furthermore, the magical residue will only raise questions. Three weeks, at the maximum four, and we shall try to rectify the lack of connection."

"What if it does not work?" Harry asked, looking the Dark Lord directly in the eyes, concern, worry, and fear tainting the brightness of the Avada green eyes, "what if that is not enough?"

"I told you and promised you before," Tom said, his voice firm, as he pushed himself off the mattress to embrace his equal, "if it does not work, we will continue trying. We will not stop until we succeed. There is no surrender, no failure, no stopping until we have created a connection deeper than anyone before. Until then, I will always be there for you, always."

For a long time, neither of them spoke. For now, the world around them did not matter. The only thing that did was the company of each other, the fact that they had somehow managed to get Tom's body back, yet neither would never abandon, never leave each other. Tom had sworn it, and he had every intention of keeping it that way as he was gently patting Harry's back who had buried himself into Tom's shoulder.

After a while, a thought crossed his mind, "Did you not say that Narcissa was alarmed when you regained consciousness? I wonder why no one is here yet."

"She was," Harry said, although his words were muffled since his head was still buried in Tom's shoulder, "I told her that I would call for her should you return to the land of the living."

"And yet you chose not to," Tom chuckled, continuing to pat the back of his equal, "care to explain why?"

"Did not want to share," Harry replied stubbornly, making Tom snort.

"Was it worth it?" the Dark Lord asked.

"Of course, it was," Harry responded, sounding slightly offended, but thankfully no longer muffled as they were now face to face, "I can finally talk to you again… And… and just look at you."

Raising an eyebrow, the Dark Lord teasingly replied to the gaze Harry was shooting at him, "I take it that my physical appearance is visually pleasing and that in fact, I did not inherit Severus' nose, right?"

"You really have not seen yourself yet?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Well," Tom chuckled, "when I woke up to the sight of a one-handed Severus shaking your lifeless body, conjuring a mirror to goggle at my own reflection was very low on my list of priorities."

"You should now," Harry said, a wide smile etched on his face.

"That good?" Tom purred.

Instead of replying, the smile on Harry's face only grew wider as he nodded his head in confirmation, his vivid green eyes sparkling with life while pointing at a large mirror next to a massive wardrobe on their right.

Fuelled by Harry's enthusiasm, Tom swung his legs out of bed. Thankfully, somebody, most likely Narcissa, had had the foresight to put him into a pair of pyjamas. Accompanied by the glorious feeling of the cold stone floor underneath his bare feet, he slowly made his way across the room, ignoring the slight wobbling of his knees. Before long, he was standing in front of the mirror. At the sight, his lips curled into a smile. Harry had been right.

Although his nose was slightly longer than it used to have been before the continuous creation of Horcruxes had deteriorated his appearance, it was thankfully far from the Potions Master's overlarge, hooked nose, even if Tom would never say that to the face of the man himself. Furthermore, his lips had thinned out slightly to line in more with the Prince family, while his face had grown longer, thankfully not by much. His aristocratic jaw and cheekbones had only changed marginally, much to his delight. After all, the bone structure of most Pureblood families was rather similar. From the smooth, pale skin, his eyes moved upwards to the thick, black hair that was falling in even waves over his forehead. It was slightly too long for his taste, but at least there was some hair to begin with, and a haircut could easily rectify that. Lastly, his eyes rested on the sole feature that was undoubtedly not Prince and that he had thankfully retained – his eyes, burning a deep and dangerous crimson.

Unlike the rest of his deteriorating exterior, they had not been the product of the continuous creation of Horcruxes. They had been caused by an accident long before that. During his time at Borgin and Burkes, he had come across an interesting ancient little tome containing some rather peculiar rituals to improve certain bodily functions. While his sight had never been bad, the Dark Lord had always been searching for ways to improve his body, to elevate it far beyond mediocrity.

Sadly, the Ritual that promised unbelievable vision, including magical sight, had slightly gone wrong, leaving him blind for a couple of days. Upon regaining his vision, he came to the conclusion that while his vision had improved overall, although not to the extent the book had promised, it had come with the loss of the natural colour of his eyes. Opting to use Glamours to hide the results of the botched Ritual, it had taken him years to realise that the accident had been caused by a faulty sequence of Runes, which had been written down incorrectly. Still, over time, he had grown quite fond of the unnatural, yet unique colour of his eyes, since they set him apart from his damned father. After his return to the British Isles, he had decided to no longer hide them. Therefore, he was glad that the colour of his eyes had somehow stayed with him.

Moving back to the here and now, Tom decided that he quite liked his new appearance. Overall, it was a nice compromise between his former exterior, and the trademarks of the Prince family. Nobody would suspect that he was not a member of the Prince family, at least if you ignored the eyes which could be easily Glamoured with Parselmagic. The Prince features were simply too pronounced to question his claimed heritage. Since hardly anyone still remembered how he had looked like before his exterior had started to deteriorate, Tom doubted that most, Dumbledore excluded, would question his appearance within the Magical world of the British Isles anyway. While the Light Lord was a powerful and rather influential character, he was also just a single man. Therefore, his new looks combined with a convincing backstory should do the job.

Before he could muse about his new body any longer, the door of the room was thrown open, revealing four rather worried figures. The first to storm into the room was Narcissa, coming to a halt in front of him, her wand already drawn, while her usually immaculate Pureblood mask had morphed into an expression of concern, as she cast one Diagnosis Charm after the other. Knowing that it would be a futile endeavour to protest, the Dark Lord simply opted to endure the myriad of Charms. After the seventeenth Diagnosis Charm, Narcissa finally appeared to have gathered enough evidence to confirm that the Dark Lord in fact was not dead, "My Lord, I am pleased that you are back amongst the living. I can confirm that you are on your way to making a swift recovery. Still, I think you should not be out of bed so soon."

"While your concern is rather touching, Narcissa," Tom smiled, "I can assure you that I am fine apart from feeling slightly worn but my core is on the best way to being fully recharged. I have been through a lot worse. I am fine."

Not daring to question the assurance of the Dark Lord, Narcissa instead turned her attention to Harry. Ignoring his protests, she started to check his vitals for the second time of the day.

"You could have warned me, you know," Corvus Lestrange said, his eyes narrowed as he stepped into the room, his dark eyes fixated on the Dark Lord, "you really could have."

"I have no idea what you are referring to, old friend," Tom replied, his tone light as the smile on his face grew wider.

Corvus Lestrange snorted, "Funny, indeed. You know exactly what I am talking about."

"No clue," Tom said, shaking his head while lifting his hands in feigned incomprehension, "please enlighten me."

Opposite him, the Lord of the Lestrange family rolled his eyes at the antics of the Dark Lord, while Lucius Malfoy was hiding his laughter behind his hand. After Corvus had stopped shaking his head, his eyes once more focussed on the Dark Lord, "About your appearance, Tom."

"What about my appearance, Corvus?" the Dark Lord chuckled, "do you find it unappealing?"

"No," the Lord of the Lestrange family said quickly to not enrage his opposite or the Potions Master behind him, "it is not your appearan-"

"What is it then?" the Dark Lord asked, his words teasing.

"Your age!" Corvus Lestrange exclaimed, seemingly at the end of his patience.

Before his opposite could add more, Tom began to speak, projecting an aura of fake hurt on his features, "What do you think is wrong with my age? I know that I am in my sixties. Still, have I really aged that badly to-"

"No, not your real age," Corus Lestrange interrupted the Dark Lord, clearly exasperated, despite being familiar with the antics of the Dark Lord in a more private setting, "you look like a bloody teenager. How old is this new body of yours?"

"Oh that," Tom said, looking at himself as if he had just realised the youthful state of his body, "if I am not mistaken, I think I should turn thirteen in early February."

"Since you do not appear to be upset with your age ," Corvus began, although his words were selected carefully," I presume that this was indeed intentional, was it not?"

The smile on Tom's face grew wider in answer.

"So, if this was indeed intentional," his opposite continued, "what do you plan to achieve with that look? Are you just going to pop up somewhere and pretend like you are a long-lost member of the Prince family, enrolling at Hogwarts right under Dumbledore's crooked, overly curious and suspicious nose?"

The smile on the Dark Lord's face turned all teeth, "You just answered the one million Galleon question, Corvus. That is exactly what I intend to do."

"You are insane," the Lord of the Lestrange family said, shaking his head.

"I keep telling him that," a familiar drawl echoed through the room, "and the time with Potter certainly does not seem to have improved these tendencies."

"I am glad that you think that, Severus," Harry snorted before Tom could react.

"Of course, you do, Potter," the Potions Master said, spitting out the surname like it was poison.

"I am glad that you are feeling better, Severus," Tom chuckled, before either of them could continue their exchange, "how is your hand?"

"Well," the Potions Master snapped. At the single raised eyebrow of the Dark Lord he quickly added, "As far as I can tell, everything is working the way it should."

To demonstrate, he raised his hand flexing the fingers of his left hand under the critical gaze of the Dark Lord, "The muscles work just like they should, my Lord, while the nerves pick up everything they did before. Even the slight aches in two of the fingers due to badly healed broken bones caused by my… dear father no longer bother me. Thank you, my Lord."

"That is the least I could do, Severus," Tom smiled, "after everything you did for Harry and me."

For a moment, none of those present within the room spoke a word. While Severus clearly appeared to be content with his new, slightly improved hand, Narcissa had finally stopped fussing over Harry. For once, Lucius seemed to be happy remaining in the background, pleased that he knew more than the Lord of the Lestrange family, who still was rather unsatisfied with the Dark Lord's less than forthcoming answer, which Tom enjoyed immensely. Mentally counting the seconds until Corvus would break the silence, he did not have to wait long, "While this is all nice and well, would you please enlighten me on your plans and what you intend to achieve with that new body of yours?"

"I will certainly enlighten you on my plan, my old friend," Tom smiled, "sadly, my explanations have to wait a bit. I am in desperate need of a shower and some food. I am afraid having regained a body comes with a few obligations that certainly cannot be ignored much longer. Therefore, I kindly ask you to leave. We will join you for lunch."

Once everybody had left, Tom limped back towards the large bed Harry was still sitting on, the strain of standing clearly starting to show. Sitting down on the bed, deep crimson eyes met Avada green ones as the Dark Lord sighed, "Having a body back is a lot more strenuous than I remember."

"Luckily, we have time for you to adapt," Harry said before he leaned forwards to wrap his arms around his exhausted equal.

Half an hour later, they finally left the warmth of the bed, yearning for a much-needed shower. Not caring much for decency and privacy, both entered the small bathroom that was attached to the lavish guest room of Malfoy Manor they had been staying in. Since Tom had shared every moment of his life, Harry did not appear to be concerned or bothered in any way as he began to undress and quickly hopped under the steaming stream of water.

Tom on the other hand was.

While he had never been a vain, or an overly self-conscious person, the way Harry's seemingly overlarge pyjamas were hanging off his boney frame was the only thing the Dark Lord loathed about his new body. It reminded him too much of the days when he had been forced to survive on far too little food for far too long, as well as the disgusted way the Slytherins had stared at him when he had sat down at the Slytherin house table for the first time, his worn and faded second-hand uniform far too wide for his meagre frame. Over the course of the school year, he had done everything he could to rectify the poor state his body had been.

"Tell me," Harry spoke up, his lithe, nicely muscled and slightly tanned body emerging from the stream of hot water, "are you already thinking about eradicating your bodily lack of strength and stamina?"

The maniacal glint in the Dark Lord's eyes appeared to be enough of an answer to make his opposite snort, "Seriously, Tom, while that is all good and well, now certainly is not the time to throw yourself headfirst into physical exercises. Let your body rest first. There will be enough time to shape your body to your expectations."

Before he could say more, Harry had already wandlessly Vanished his clothes and pulled him under the water.

Sometime later, the two finally made their way down to the private dining room of Malfoy Manor. After a long and hot soak, Tom and Harry had taken their time getting dressed. Harry had borrowed him some of his clothes, which had been slightly shrunken down to fit his less than impressive frame. At least they did not have to be shortened since they were roughly the same height. How Tom wished to rectify the state of his body this instant. Maybe he could employ some of the Advanced-Nutrition-Potion they had developed during their stay at Privet Drive.

The Dark Lord was torn out of his thoughts when they entered the dining room as Harry next to him spoke up at the sight ahead of them, "You know that you could have begun without us."

"Certainly not," Lucius Malfoy's silky voice echoed through the richly decorated room, sounding slightly offended at the idea of starting lunch without his highest-ranking guests present, "it would have been improper."

"Seems quite improper to me," Harry snorted, as he followed the Dark Lord into the room, "to starve just because the two of us were taking so long in the shower and getting dress-"

Before he could say more, a small blond figure stormed past Tom, throwing his arms around his equal, "I am so glad that you made it, Harry. I was so worried, and mother would not let inside your room to check on you. I… I…"

"It is okay, Draco," Harry said, his voice calm as he patted the back of the blond, "I am fine. The Ritual just took a lot out of me, but I am feeling better now."

Slowly, Draco let go of Harry, although rather reluctantly. While turning around to the dining table, he froze as his eyes landed on the Dark Lord. The expression of shock and wonder on the pale face of the heir of the Malfoy family made Tom chuckle, "It is nice to see you, too, Draco."

In front of him, the eyes of the Malfoy heir grew comically wide. A fraction of a second later, the blond threw himself on the ground in front of the Dark Lord, "My Lord, please forgive my rudeness and ignorance to your presence. I am at your service."

"Please, get up, Draco," Tom said, failing to veil the slightly exasperated undertone in his words, "you did nothing wrong. It is understandable that you are relieved to see your friend. Furthermore, there is no need for formalities in such a private setting. None of my most trusted are expected to kneel at my feet since they have proven their loyalty time and time again. While I do appreciate displays of loyalty, they are reserved for larger gatherings of my followers. Also, please refrain from treating me with a suspicious amount of reverence in any public setting. This is especially important since I expect us to be spending plenty of time together in an environment where such behaviour will only arouse unwanted suspicion."

"You… you really plan on going to Hogwarts with us?" Draco whispered, staring at the Dark Lord, his jaw slightly unhinged and his eyes wide open, before remembering his manners, "my Lord, please, forgive my questions."

"Draco, please remember that I am open to suggestions, accepting of questions, and certainly not averse to critique as long as everything is reasonable and delivered in an adequate setting," Tom said, trying to sound reassuring, "to answer your question: I am indeed planning on attending Hogwarts with you and Harry in September."

"But how?" Draco asked, his eyes having grown even bigger.

Before Tom or Harry could answer, Corvus Lestrange's impressive voice echoed through the dining room, "I have to agree with Draco on this. Tom, I cannot help but wonder how you intend to achieve that impossible feat. We all know how perceiving the exterior alone can be. Therefore, I wonder how you intend on circumventing the Inheritance Ritual you no doubt will be forced to conduct to confirm your claimed identity."

"That is rather easy," the Dark Lord chuckled, "since I do not intend to circumvent the Inheritance Ritual. Before Harry and I explain that particular part of our plan, I would prefer to get something into my stomach."

"Of course, my Lord," Narcissa Malfoy said quickly, a gentle smile on her face as she gestured to everyone to take a seat at the lavishly laid out table. Once everybody had been seated, food appeared on the table, filling the Dark Lord's nose with the most mouth-watering smells he had ever come across. Thankfully, Narcissa appeared to have had the foresight of telling the House Elves to forgo preparing a fatty feast in favour of a much lighter, balanced mixture of dishes, which certainly suited his empty stomach much better. Opting for a light beef soup and some freshly baked bread, he soon began to eat.

"Draco, you know that just like everybody else," Tom raised his voice a few minutes into lunch, not lifting his eyes from his steaming plate, "I have to eat, despite how foreign and wrong the concept of food must appear for someone like me."

After a few seconds of silence, Harry next to him spoke up, chuckling, "Draco, just stop staring at him. If you continue like this, your eyes might pop out."

Afterwards, lunch turned into a rather pleasant and relaxed affair. Once the Dark Lord felt pleasantly full, he and Harry shared a quick glance before they finally started to explain their plan in detail.

Once Harry had ceased talking, Corvus Lestrange cleared his throat, "Are you sure that this will work? After all, you two are heavily relying on the magic of the Goblins. Can they be trusted?"

"Do not contest the abilities and the loyalty of the Goblins," the Dark Lord hissed, "they are not our enemies. They are our allies."

"Tomorrow," Harry added, although much calmer, "we will find out if the Goblins will keep their words."

"So," Lucius Malfoy began, his voice silky as ever, "despite everything you two have been through during the last few days, you intend on keeping your appointment with the Goblins tomorrow?"

"Of course," Tom answered, his tone slightly less dangerous, "since no magic will be required on our behalf, there is no reason to postpone the appointment. Still, to be in the best state possible, I would prefer to retire now to get some much-needed rest."

"Of course, my Lord," the Lord of the Malfoy family replied swiftly, "should you require anything, please let myself, my wife, or the House Elves know."

"Thank you, Lucius," Tom smiled, before fixing his eyes on Corvus Lestrange, "old friend, I demand your decision regarding the Longbottoms by tomorrow once I have returned from Gringotts."

When Tom woke up the next morning, he felt much more well rested. Apart from a quick dinner, he and Harry had spent most of the day mediating before retiring to bed early. While the extra sleep had certainly helped him physically, the long hours of meditation had done wonders for the recharging of his core. Additionally, it had also cleared his mind considerably. Overall, Tom felt much better than the day before. Therefore, he was confident that he would make a swift recovery.

Before long, the Dark Lord's thoughts drifted to the warm body whose arms were wrapped tightly around his torso, although not too tight. Opening his eyes, a smile appeared on his youthful face upon seeing Harry's peacefully slumbering face resting on his chest. A content sigh escaped his lips as his fingers began to gently comb through the wild and unruly raven locks of his equal.

Although it was a nice and cozy, rather intimate moment, Tom could not help but remark that somehow something was missing. As his eyes landed on the sleeping form of his equal, it did not take long to figure out what exactly was missing. This must be exactly how Harry had felt when he had been conscious when Tom had still been out of it. After years of constant communication, the silence felt wrong and hollow, unsettling even.

Suddenly, an idea crossed his mind. Closing his eyes, Tom let himself sink deep into his mindscape. Upon waking up after his resurrection, one of the first things he had realised, had been the terrible void inside his mind which had not been there before. At that point, he had not been in the state of mind to explore and identify the missing component. Thankfully, he was in a much better state now, and there was no haemorrhaging Potions Master requiring his help. Delving deeper and deeper, he soon found the raw fringes where once upon a time something had been attached that was no longer there.

Luckily, there were still remnants left of what had once been connected to his mind. Gathering all his concentration and focus, Tom tried his best to follow one of the barely existing tethers that had been left behind. The path was narrow and rather slippery. Luckily, Tom had always been a natural at the mental arts. Where others would have failed, the Dark Lord kept stubbornly clawing forwards. Following the tether, he was soon led out of his body. Before long, the tether started to branch out into a myriad of small tendrils which all appeared to be connected with a large, pulsating sphere of the most enticing magical entity he had ever come across.

It was Harry's magic tightly wrapped around his soul.

The connection between the two of them, although weakened, had not been broken by the Resurrection Ritual. It was still there. The lips of the Dark Lord curled into a smile as he gently brushed his magic against the intoxicating core of Harry's very existence.

The revelation of their still existing connection certainly made their plan a lot easier than he had originally anticipated. Lost in thoughts, he unconsciously continued to brush his magic against the core of his equal.

The Dark Lord was brought out of his thoughts as well as out of his mindscape as the body pressed against his chest began to stir, his words drowsy, "T… Tom… What… what did you do?"

Staring into the sleep-drugged eyes, Tom's lips curled into a gentle smile, "Good morning, Harry."

"What did you do," Harry repeated his question, his eyes filled with confusion, "for a moment, it felt like you were back in my head."

"I was," Tom chuckled, "I was."

"But… but," Harry began, "that should be impossible."

"It should be, yet it is not," the Dark Lord said, his words underlined with eagerness at all the doors the discovery could and would open, as his fingers lightly brushed over the lightning bolt shaped scar on his equal's forehead.

Since they had an important appointment with the Goblins scheduled in less than an hour, they opted to not spend more time contemplating the implications of the discovery. Instead, they got dressed quickly. Once again, Harry graciously offered some of his clothes.

A few minutes later, the duo sat down at the richly laid breakfast table.

"Anything of interest in the Prophet, Lucius?" Tom asked once they had been welcomed.

"Not much," the silky voice of the Lord of the Malfoy family echoed through the room, "a lot of speculation on the upcoming trial of Sirius Black, the usual quarrels about the thickness of cauldrons, and a call from the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office to ban a large number of supposedly Dark objects."

"Arthur Weasley again?" Corvus Lestrange asked, looking up from his paper.

"Who else but the bloodtraitor Arthur Weasley," Lucius Malfoy hissed, his silky voice turning steely, "it is an atrocity that scum like him are allowed to continue to ban and destroy our ancient traditions even more than they already have been."

"With our Lord back, the deterioration of our society will hopefully no longer continue, while all damage caused by the Light shall be rectified," Corvus Lestrange's voice boomed through the room, as steady and sure as it had always been.

"We will do everything in our power to rectify Dumbledore's schemes," Harry said, his words underlined with determination of the purest and most honest kind.

"We will," the Dark Lord spoke up, his lips curling into a smile at the words of his equal, "and today, we will start. Lucius, did the Portkey arrive?"

According to the Lord of the Malfoy family, no Portkey had arrived so far. Trusting in the unquestionable reliability of the Goblins, Tom was certain that an owl would arrive any given minute.

Still, before an owl could arrive, Severus strode into the dining room, his robes billowing behind him, "Hopefully, I will not have to endure any more mad rituals today, will I?"

"Today should be quite tame in contrast to the Resurrection Ritual," Tom chuckled at the sour, rather displeased expression on the Potions Master's face.

"I will take your word," the dour man snapped, before sitting down and pouring himself a large cup of coffee. Chuckling to himself, Tom noted that the sour mood of the Potions Master brightened considerably the emptier the large cup ahead of him got. His future guardian really was not a morning person without his coffee.

Seconds after the first cup of coffee had been emptied, a large eagle owl flew through the open window, landing in front of the Dark Lord. A crimson envelope of the finest quality was tied to its leg, bearing the intricate sigil of the Goblin bank. Once the letter had been removed from the outstretched leg of the owl, he quickly fed a few strips of bacon to the massive bird before turning his attention to the letter. Upon opening the letter, the lips of the Dark Lord curled into a smile. The portkey had arrived.

Once Severus had put down his cutlery, Tom cleared his throat, "Shall we depart? The sooner this is over, the better."

Sighing, the Potions Master agreed, while Harry was eagerly nodding his head. Once all three of them were touching the unshrunk golden goblet, Tom activated the Portkey with the password in Gobbledegook.

Fractions of a second later, his feet were ripped off the ground. Just like the first time he had had the displeasure of travelling with this form of transportation, it felt as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forwards, a feeling he had never quite gotten used to despite decades of frequent usage. Speeding forwards in a whirlwind of wind and colours, his fingers were firmly stuck to the golden goblet. Without warning, the connection was severed. Seeing the marble floor approaching at fast speed, his magic, although still far from being fully recharged, reacted instinctively. Floating on the magical currents, the Dark Lord graciously sank to the ground.

"How did you do that?" Harry grumbled from the floor, accepting Tom's hand who pulled him to his feet with a lot more effort than his weak, protesting body would have liked.

"I would like to know that myself," Severus said, shooting him a calculated glance, despite having managed to land on his feet, while straightening his windswept robes and his curtain of dark hair.

Before Tom could answer, a movement in the corner of his vision caught his attention.

" My old friend, I see it worked. What a pleasure of finally seeing you in flesh and blood again ," Ragnok's voice boomed through the lavish palace of marble that was his office, as the Goblin quickly made his way around his desk, before coming to a halt in front of the Dark Lord, catching him in a genuine and enthusiastic embrace, "I am beyond relieved that the Resurrection Ritual appeared to have worked."

" Luckily, it did, Ragnok ," Tom replied in Gobbledegook, his lips curling into a smile as he patted the back of his much shorter friend and ally.

" Was it a close call? " the Goblin asked.

At that, Tom nodded his head while keeping his eyes firmly locked on the Goblin, " Still, we made it."

" And that is all that matters ," Ragnok chuckled, before letting go of the Dark Lord. The Goblin was about to turn, to no doubt return to his chair behind his desk, when his eyes landed on the Potions Master, switching back to English, "While I am delighted to see you, Lord Prince, I cannot help but wonder about the cause for your rather peculiar expression. Would you mind enlightening me?"

"May your veins of gold never run dry, Ragnok," Severus familiar drawl echoed through the lavish office, as he respectfully lowered his head as an excuse for openly staring at the Goblin in surprise seconds earlier, "I have just never heard nor dreamed of your race forgoing neutrality in favour of decla-"

"We have aligned ourselves with human magic wielders in the past," Ragnok chuckled with a smile that was all teeth, "although many centuries have passed since we last openly sided with either faction. Still, there are many ways to support a war under the guise of neutrality. We, the Goblins, have never stopped fighting for our rights. Although I think a time might come," Ragnok said as his eyes landed on Harry, narrowing slightly at the sight of the Dark Lord's equal, "where we will once again side openly and return to the battlefields, now that there are two Dark Lords in Britain."

"Two?" Severus repeated, his eyes growing even wider than before, "two Dark Lords?"

"Yes," the Goblin laughed, his wide grin of sharp teeth the most feral and dark Tom had ever seen, "I must congratulate you, Lord Potter, for completing Lady Magic's most gruelling task. It was the Resurrection Ritual, was it not?"

Once Harry had voiced his confirmation, Ragnok's smile grew even wider as he exchanged glances with the two Dark Lords, "I had a feeling that something extraordinary would happen. After all, no one has ever tried to achieve the full recreation of a fully functioning human body in one night. It should be impossible, yet you managed to do it, becoming true equals in the process, although we all know that a tiny little detail is still amiss but will soon be rectified. I am sure that you will achieve great things in the future once the path is fully set. Shall we begin?"

Once a few more pleasantries had been exchanged and everyone had taken a seat around the large marble desk, the eager Goblin went straight to business, pulling out a blank sheet of paper and a needle, "I think it is time to confirm if one of the more intricate aspects of the Resurrection Ritual turned out the way you desired. Tom, a few drops of your blood should suffice."

Without further ado, the elder Dark lord accepted the needle. A few seconds later, the first crimson drop landed on the top of the parchment. Once a sufficient amount had been added, Tom cleansed the needle with a wave of wandless magic before sealing the wound. Meanwhile, Ragnok initiated the identification process with a wave of his hand. During the entire process, Tom's eyes kept firmly glued on the enchanted parchment.

Unlike the times he and Harry had respectively confirmed their identities at the Goblin bank, the magic of the parchment appeared to be confused by the blood of the Dark Lord. On the left side of the parchment, lines started to appear, listing his true heritage, but the writing was shaky, blurry at some spots, and fragmentary at times. An inch or two to the right, other lines were beginning to spread. Unlike the rather coherent lines of words about Tom's true background, the writing on the right was nothing but disjointed pieces of information about the Prince family. Still, this was not a bad thing.

"This is quite a good thing," Ragnok chuckled, while his dark eyes were inspecting the parchment as more and more lines started to appear, "congratulations, Tom. You indeed have Prince blood inside you. Now, let me weave you into the family tree to properly anchor you within the Prince family. Am I correct that your choice of placement has not changed, has it?"

"My decision remains the same," Tom answered curtly, while lavishly waving at the parchment, signalling the Goblin to go ahead.

"Splendid," Ragnok chuckled. Flicking his wrist, a short wand slipped into his right hand. Unlike Severus, neither Tom nor Harry batted an eye at the sight of the wand. While on the British Isles, all magical creatures were officially denied the possession and usage of a wand, the two of them were more than aware that the Goblins did not obey the laws of the Ministry of Magic. Although their wands remained to be hidden from the public eye. This was especially true for Ragnok's wand.

"Is that a human bone?" Severus asked, his eyes glued on the white wand, which was covered with a myriad of Runes, which had been used long before the Goblins had been reduced to the administrators of the gold of the magical community.

"Indeed," Ragnok chuckled, looking fondly at the wand in his hand, "my forefather Gornak managed to slay the great Tyrynell, son of the Elven Lord Thuriell and the non-magical priestess Yggrid, at the siege of what is now known as Stonehenge. To honour the fight with Tyrynell, Gornak carved his new wand out of his thigh bone, since his old wand had been destroyed by an axe during the siege. Since then, the wand has been handed down from generation to generation, with each of us offering our blood to the wand. On one hand, this allows us to use the wand, one the other, the wand's strength increases with each passing generation. I hope that this revelation is treated with the utter most discretion, since I would be very unamused to part ways with the present of my ancestors. Is that understood?"

"Of course," the Potions Master replied, not flinching under the intense gaze of the Goblin, "I disagree with the Ministry's policies of creature discrimination. All magical creatures should be granted the same rights."

"I am glad to hear that, Lord Prince," Ragnok replied, his words less harsh than before, "brace yourself. This might tingle a bit."

Raising his arms, the Goblin began to chant in a form of ancient Gobbledegook long forgotten, weaving the blood and magic of the Dark Lord into the family tree of the ancient and noble Prince line, directing strands of magic with the help of his wand. At first, Tom did not feel anything. Then, he felt a slight tug at his magic. Severus on his right froze in his seat. Because of their connection, not even Harry remained unaffected by the magic of the Goblin. Much to Ragnok's credit, the tug at their magic never grew past a slightly unpleasant stinging despite the magic within the room growing in intensity. Without warning, a strong wave of ancient magic washed over them as Ragnok sealed their blood and magic together, the connection becoming inseparable.

For a long time, the only sound that echoed through the room was their slightly quickened breathing.

"Well, let us see if this worked," Ragnok finally spoke up, wiping the sweat from his forehead, before reaching for another piece of enchanted parchment.

Seconds later, drop after drop of the Dark Lord's blood began to stain the top of the parchment. Once a sufficient amount of the crimson liquid had been squeezed on the sheet, Ragnok waved his hand to initiate the identification. At first, nothing happened. Then, a slight tremble shook through the parchment before lines began to appear at last. Once words had ceased to appear, Tom accepted the sheet from Ragnok who was grinning toothily.

Thomas Nero Prince , born February 29 th , 1980 in Southend-on-Sea, Essex, England

Parents:

Nero Aurelius Prince , born October 6 th , 1954 in Southend-on-Sea, Essex, England

Madeleine Joan Lefebvre, born March 19 th , 1955 in Boulogne-Sur-Mer, Pas-de-Calais, France

Godparents:

Not instated

Magical guardian:

Not instated

Heir to the Houses of:

Prince (second in line), Lefebvre

Soulmate:

Harry James Potter , born July 31st, 1980 in Godric's Hollow, West Country, England

Hereditary magical abilities:

Natural Occlumens and Legilimens

Core Magic:

Dark

Looking up from the parchment, the corners of the Dark Lord's lips curled into a smile, "I think this is a good beginning."

"I agree," Harry chuckled next to him, before pointing at the section where he was listed as the soulmate of the resurfaced member of the Prince family, "although there are a few parts of Tom's supposed past that have to be refined slightly. Otherwise, they might arouse the suspicion of a certain Headmaster."

"We, the Goblin Nation, will take care of these slight inconveniences," Ragnok said without hesitation, "as we are speaking, there are forces at work, ensuring that everything will go according to our plan. The discovery of Thomas Nero Prince should be free of complications."

"Thank you, Ragnok," Tom met the Goblin's eyes, the genuine words of the Dark Lord echoing through the room.

"There is no need to thank us, old friend," Ragnok smiled, "not after everything we have been through together. Enough sentimentality. There is something that needs to be returned to its rightful owner before we advance to the next step of our meeting."

A long slim box, which was obviously Goblin made, appeared on the table in front of the Dark Lord. After shooting his old friend a quick glance, Tom reached for the box. Even before his fingers come into contact with the expertly crafted box, he could feel the familiar magic pulsating on the inside. Not sparing another second, he quickly removed the top. For a moment, time stood still as Tom stared at the familiar piece of Yew ahead of him. Realising that he had been holding his breath, he quickly forced some oxygen into his protesting lung before grabbing his first wand. Fractions of a second later, his fingers began to tingle, before a powerful wave of magic rushed through his body.

"Our safety measures worked," the Dark Lord whispered, his eyes still transfixed on his wand, which housed the twin core of the Blackthorn wand of his equal.

"It did," Ragnok said proudly, "I called it back myself before the Aurors could storm the cottage of the Potters in Godric's Hollow. The Rune sequence we added worked splendidly."

"Please, tell me," Severus spoke up, his words sounding rather reluctant, "that you do not intend to use this in public. People will surely identi-"

"No, he is not," Ragnok answered before the Dark Lord could raise his voice, "that is why I have invited a special friend and ally."

As if on commando, the door of the lavish office swung open only a moment later, "Good day, Ragnok. I have the feeling that it will be a wonderful day for business."

"I must agree, Lady Aurora," the Goblin chuckled, signalling the wandmaker to enter the office before offering her a seat which had just materialised in front of his desk, "thank you for accepting my invitation."

"As if I would ever pass the opportunity of conducting business with your kind," the tall woman replied, a genuine smile on her face while her pale-blue eyes were sparkling with life, "although I have the feeling that none of your kind require my help this time. My Lord, how can I be of service?"

"My Lady, as always, it is a pleasure conducting business with you," Tom's smooth words echoed through the office as he accepted her pale hand, letting his lips brush over her knuckles. Through the link connecting him to his equal he felt a touch of jealousy. Ignoring the possessiveness of Harry for now, he let go of the pale hand.

"How can I be of service, my Lord?" the descendant of the Ice Elves asked, a touch of colour gracing her noble cheeks, "what kind of wand do you require?"

"I thought you already had several of her wands," Severus' familiar drawl broke the brisk silence faster than the Dark Lord had anticipated, "why do you require another one?"

"Oh, Lord Prince," Lady Aurora laughed, an enticing sound which made the hair on all those present in the office stand on end, "all those wands I previously crafted for the Dark Lord were crafted with ingredients and rituals long since banned despite the undeniable advantages of these methods. It would not be wise to be seen in public using any of my previous creations. I have the feeling that our Lord requires something a bit more… legal."

"As always, you are quite correct," the Dark Lord confirmed the presumption of the wandmaker, "I need a wand, preferably something unsuspicious."

This was easier said than done.

Because of his Dark affinity, 'lighter' woods barely channelled his magic correctly, if they channelled his magic at all. Both Lady Aurora and Tom knew that most 'lighter' woods like holly, maple, willow, or cherry would either channel only a fraction of his magic, or rupture under the strain of being forced to channel magic that was simply incompatible. The same was true for most cores. The most common cores like Dragon heartstring, Kelpie hair, and Unicorn tail hair would not withstand the amount of magic the Dark Lord had at his disposal. Since restraining himself had never been his strength, Tom knew that they had to find another solution.

Thankfully, Lady Aurora was a master of her craft.

To underline his special connection with his equal, his new wand contained a feather from the same Dark Phoenix which had donated one of the components of the core of Harry's Alder wand. Tom could not help himself but snort at the irony that he and Harry possessed two sets of twin core wands. After all, twin cores were incredibly rare. The Dark Phoenix feather would be complemented by a priceless vial of Basilisk venom from Salazar Slytherin's familiar, and Manticore heartstring, finished off by an elegant piece of Jamaican Bloodwood.

While all of the components of the wand would surely arouse suspicion, Lady Aurora had miraculously managed to conceal the wand with the help of a few well-placed Runes and a light casing of apple wood. From the outside, the Bloodwood wand looked just like any ordinary 'Light' wand. Thanks to the thinness of the wooden sheathing, the flow of his magic would not be affected much. Because of the Runes etched into the Bloodwood underneath, the core of the wand would be disguised as Unicorn hair, if someone tried to unveil the core with magical means. According to Lady Aurora, even wandmakers like Ollivander, or Gregorovitch would not be able to see past the Unicorn hair.

Because of the complexity of the construction, it took several hours to complete the wand. It was well past dinner when the pale wandmaker finally looked up from her work. Without thinking, Tom accepted the smooth piece of Bloodwood disguised as Apple wood. Immediately, his fingers started to tingle upon touching his new wand while crimson sparks erupted from its tip. While Tom could feel the slight resistance of the Apple wood, it barely mattered in the grand scheme of things.

"Thank you for your phenomenal work, my Lady," Tom smiled, looking up from his new wand to the tall frame of the wandmaker who had already risen from her seat, "how can I possibly repay you? I know that money alone is not enough."

Turning down the offered bag of Galleons in the outstretched hand of the Dark Lord, a mysterious gleam appeared in the pale-blue eyes of Lady Aurora, "I have no need for your money. There is something else I demand which is of far greater value. A descendant of the human branch of my line will start attending Hogwarts this year. She inherited the gift of sight from our ancestors. I want you to protect her at all cost."

"Of course, my Lady," Tom whispered, his mind trying to grasp the significance of the revelation, "who is she?"

"You will see," Lady Aurora chuckled, before her billowing robes disappeared on the white marble floor of the Goblin bank without another word.