AN: Some people are confused at why Harry thinks it entertaining to be a Dark Lord and how he can just suddenly go from good guy to Dark Lord. Those questions will be answered through this chapter and future chapters. But, may I remind you that Dark is not necessarily synonymous with Evil and that Harry has been through a lot. This story doesn't take place right after Harry dies as Harry Potter, whenever that is. It's AU, most definitely, and Harry has been through a lot more.

As for Harry as Tom and the actual Harry Potter, well, I have a vague idea of what I'll do, but nothing solid yet. That's quite a long way away though.

For why the Slytherin vault has less money than the Potter one is that first, the Slytherin vault is a personal vault and not a family vault, therefore not all the family riches are stored there. Second, the vault has been inactive for quite a while, while the Potters have kept on investing, getting interest, ect. Third, well, there is no third reason...

Harry took a deep breath, smiling softly as he felt the sense of peace and calm wash over him. The sense of being detached from his body was still present, but much more pleasant. Before, when he sunk into this state which he randomly called 'Soul Finding', he would just feel frustration and confusion. It had changed dramatically. He could visualize his core, this glowing ball of light that lazily drifted around.

Really, all he was doing was meditating like people did when they used Occulemency to find a sense of calm. Except, he was going deeper. Past his mind and into his soul, something that had become easy for him with the whole Master of Death thing going on. Even now, he could still feel the three Hallows' presences, buzzing at the edge of his soul.

Apparently, he was correct to assume that becoming a Dark Lord would be amusing to Them. In fact, it was even taking the boredom from his mind, where the heavy and unmoving emotion had settled. It had numbed him, but this rush of something right at the thought of being a Dark Lord was clearing away the almost painful apathy.

His eyes opened once more as he slowly came back into his body, feeling heavy and burdened all of a sudden. He knew the feeling would go away, but it always happened after his Soul Finding sessions.

He really needed to give that technique a better name...

Harry's eyes went to the window. It was dark outside the Hogwarts Express and he could guess that they were going to arrive soon.

Ah, Hogwarts. He felt a warm, tingly feeling, thinking of his one and only true home.

The train was slowing down now, arriving at the Hogsmeade Station. Harry couldn't wait. He felt unusually giddy for some reason and his magic sparked in excitement.

You're getting warmer, little Master...

Hogwarts.

Abraxas felt giddy as he left the train with his friends, though he hid it well. He had heard so many things about this place from his older friends and his parents. He couldn't wait to go to the magical castle and every step he took felt like a year of waiting. He wanted to get there now. Why did the crowd have to be so damn slow?

"First years, this way!" A voice called out over the din of noise. He quickly went in that direction, his friends following obediently, chatting like the children they were.

"Lucrecia told me that we have to fight a dragon to be sorted!"

"I think it would be some sort of test... I wonder what spells I'd need to know."

"Idiots," he cut in, "Of course it's going to be something to test our personalities, not our abilities."

"Yeah? What makes you say that?"

"Because everyone knows that Gryffindors are reckless idiots, Ravenclaws are bookworms, Hufflepuffs are meek and Slytherins are cunning and ambitious. If that's not being sorted by personality, then what could it be sorted by?" Abraxas replied haughtily. "Plus, if weak mudbloods can get in, then it obviously isn't a test of worth."

Abraxas felt smug as his friends all made noises of agreement. Yes, he was going to be at the top, just as his father was before him, at the top of the Slytherin hierarchy.

Suddenly, he remembered Riddle and his smugness dissipated. Riddle had... His magic had felt...

Abraxas suppressed a shudder as that same magic and power ghosted over his skin. His eyes were drawn to the source and he saw the head of midnight black locks that belonged to Riddle. He noticed that he wasn't the only one affected though. Everyone seemed drawn to the boy and many people were looking towards him, subconsciously stealing glances towards him. Even his friends were affected. However, no one except him knew the truth to this power, no one but him was aware.

He felt that smugness rise again as his thoughts went to the book he had been given. Riddle had singled him out, him. Then, he mercilessly crushed that smugness. He could think clearly now, without that magic adding his brain, yet he was still acting like some sort of dog, searching for his master's approval. How disgusting...

But he could not deny that Riddle was like the meaning of power and magic.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to not be in control for once.

Riddle was powerful, Abraxas knew even before the other had let the complete wrath of his magic out. Abraxas had just been in denial. He had always been rather sensitive to magical auras, after all, and this perpetual aura of strength and regality rivaled the benevolent aura Dumbledore projected in its power. And Riddle was only eleven...

If Abraxas were to serve anyone, it would be Riddle. He was sure that the boy was a descendent of Slytherin, because he couldn't be a Mudblood. It was impossible. He had made his decision...

Abruptly, the magic began to retreat, coiling back around its source tightly and people took less notice of it. Abraxas had to fight the urge to chase the retreating magic as he was acutely aware of it still.

They were near the boats now and Abraxas hadn't even noticed he had stopped and was lagging behind.

"Oi, 'Braxas," Cassius elbowed him, bringing him back to the present. "What's with you?"

"It's nothing, Cass'." Abraxas shook his head slightly, then realized that Riddle was right behind them. He glanced back at the slightly shorter boy.

"Is it about Riddle?" Abraxas stiffened at the question. "What happened after... He so graciously escorted us out?" Goddamnit, Cassius! Riddle was right behind them!

"... Nothing important..."

"Really?" Came the sarcastic reply of his friend. Cassius gave him an incredulous look. "And I guess he's totally not the reason you were spacing out?" Suddenly, Cassius gave him a teasing smirk. "What, did you fall in love at sight?" Abraxas looked at the other as if he were crazy and felt embarrassment creep up his neck when soft laughter reached his ears and he just knew that Riddle could hear everything they were saying. "Oh wait, that wasn't the first time you met... But I never knew that you were interested in men, 'Braxas. Aren't you a little too young for that? What would your mother say? Knowing her, she'd be incredibly disappointed that you won't be giving her grandchildren, you know? Unless someone can create some sort of male pregnancy potion or spell."

Abraxas resisted the urge to facepalm and ignored his friend as he got onto a boat, attempting to keep his composure as Riddle got on as well.

Cassius fell silent and Abraxas knew it was because he had noticed Riddle's presence. Riddle's potentially dangerous presence.

Abraxas felt annoyance as the girl opposite to them began babbling about something or another to Riddle. His annoyance turned to anger as the girl introduced herself as Katherine Turner. A Mudblood! His Lord shouldn't have to consort with filth like a that!

However, Riddle just smiled politely and answered her questions.

"I could barely believe it when I received my letter you know? I thought it was some sort of joke, but this is really real! My family was shocked you know? What about you, Tom?"

"I knew exactly what was going to happen. I had been waiting."

"Oh... So did you grow up in the Wizarding World? What was it like?"

"I grew up with muggles. I'm a half-blood... You are a muggleborn, right? Well, you should feel blessed that Magic chose you out of millions of others to manifest herself in."

"Chose?" The Mudblood was confused and Abraxas found himself just as confused. He knew that Riddle knew a lot, there was no denying that, more than he did even, about magic. He leaned forwards subtly, eager to hear more of what his Lord knew. His Lord's magic was out and about again, dancing over his skin, merely playing as opposed to the crushing force on the train or the lazy lingering when they were walking. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see Cassius, just as drawn to the magic and knowledge as he was, leaning forwards slightly as well.

Riddle's voice was amused when he next spoke, as if he knew they were just as eager to hear what he had to say. "Magic, She's a sentient being, you know? She exists everywhere and chooses those She wishes to bare Her gift. She's like God, or maybe closer to a primordial goddess, actually. She may not be omnipotent, but She's there and everything She does is for Her children. As Her first generation, you are one of the closest to Her. Unfortunately, your kind usually rejects too much of Her to be as close as you potential could be. You are different from your family, as your very being has been cleansed, blessed and empowered by Her. It's something that really only happens to Muggleborns, as Purebloods and Half-bloods already carry her essence by legacy, but will never have the potential the First Generation have. You are, after all, technically created by Magic Herself."

"Wow..." The Mudbl- Muggleborn breathed out in awe, face lighting up with wonder.

Abraxas could barely believe what he was hearing. He was rather conflicted. Muggleborns were from Muggles, after all, but what Riddle said sort of made sense. After all, where else would the magic in Muggleborns come from? If magic really was a sentient being, and what Riddle said was true, then a Muggleborn's magic would, essentially, be more pure than a Pureblood's. A Pureblood's magic would be from their parents while a Muggleborn's would have come from Magic Herself.

Abraxas was never stupid, no. He may have let his rage, pride and beliefs get in the way of his calm thinking before, but he wasn't like that. He was, in fact, very clever and, despite what most people thought about Purebloods from families like his, quite open minded when presented with something like this. A great Slytherin. He could logically think about new ideas and theories without dismissing them at once after realizing they contradicted with his own ideas. Plus, Riddle had earned his respect quite easily.

That was probably why he was taking what Riddle had suggested quite well. He knew that if he were Walburga or Pericles, he would have just whipped his wand out and attempted to curse Riddle into oblivion for even suggesting such an idea. Luckily, he had more logic and common sense than most people in the Wizarding World and, while he couldn't change his views that quickly, he was thankful that Riddle had given him this new view to think about. It did answer a lot of his questions he had as a child.

Next to him, Cassius had a slightly indignant, but pensive look on his face. He knew that the Lestrange was thinking about it as well. They were rather alike, after all.

Great Minds think alike and all. God forbid if Pericles actually did some thinking.

The Great Hall was just as stunning as he remembered it to be. Nearby, he could hear someone, a first year, whisper about the enchantments on the ceiling and thought about Hermione for one wistful moment before it disappeared. She had been such a bookworm...

Most of the first years were nervous, pale, small and he knew that he wasnt like that at all. Luckily, his magic made him a wall flower despite the fact that he stood out.

The Muggleborn he had met on the boat was looking around in awe, having lost track of where he went and Abraxas was looking nonchalant, though there was nervous energy thrumming underneath.

His eyes turned to the High Table. He didn't recognize any of the professors there except... Slughorn. He then turned his attention to Dumbledore, who had led them inside.

Dumbledore...

Harry's eyes narrowed as he watched the man unravel the scroll that bore their names.

He had forgotten about him. How could he have forgotten that he appeared to Dumbledore as an innocent Muggleborn? He might pose a serious problem to any and all plans that Harry would make. He made a frustrated sound.

As much as his old mentor was eccentric, he was also undeniably talented and observant. He had already given the older man a reason to be suspicious. His robes were of a quality an orphaned Muggleborn should not be able to buy.

Harry cursed his carelessness.

Seriously, how could he have forgotten?

"Black, Alphard!"

The name jolted Harry back to the present. Where had he heard that name before...?

"Slytherin!"

Sirius! That was it! It's Sirius' uncle!

Huh, Sirius' uncle Alphard went to Hogwarts at the same time as Tom? He didn't know that...

He remembered Sirius saying that Alphard had been nice to him despite everything, how Alphard supported him. If Sirius, who was quite prejudice against Slytherins (even his own family, no, especially that) had something good to say about Alphard, then it seemed that Alphard would be someone he would get along quite well with.

A sudden curiosity took hold of Harry and he turned his gaze on the seated students, trying to find something he could recognize. Maybe a flash of red hair or a messy black signature to the Potter family. His own Grandfather, or Ron's?

"Lestrange, Cassius!"

Lestrange... A flash of hatred went through him, but disappeared just as quickly.

"Slytherin!"

"Malfoy, Abraxas!"

Harry turned his attention back to the students being sorted. There hadn't been many Slytherins after Alphard, but Malfoy was sure to be one. He had to pay attention. They would be the closest to his influence, hard as they may be to sway... Lestrange was a interesting one though. He seemed a lot like Malfoy.

"Slytherin!"

As assumed. Harry watched the blonde stroll casually to the Slytherin table.

"Mulciber, Aftonio!"

Ah, another one. It seemed that most of the Slytherins were nearer to the end.

"Slytherin!"

Mulciber was wearing a grin as he walked.

"Nott, Romulus!"

Slytherin again?

"Ravenclaw!"

No? Interesting... Harry decided to keep an eye on that particular birdy.

"Prince, Eileen!"

Oh, wasn't that Snape's mother? Same sour look on her face and dark hair, but otherwise rather pretty, the big nose and grease must come from his father then.

"Slytherin!"

Wasn't Snape's father an abusive muggle?

"Riddle, Tom!"

That was him. Harry straightened his back from the lazy slouch he had, leaning against the wall. He threw back his shoulders and linked to the stool with all the grace and power he could muster, but kept a lazy, relaxed undertone to his walk. He had to make a good impression, after all. He kept his magic under tight control though, wary of Dumbledore. He'd prefer the man to think that he was an excellent actor and public speaker than an extremely powerful potential Dark Lord. Gracefully, he sat down on the stool and retrained his lazy posture as the hat fell on his head.

Ah, what's this here? I've sorted this mind before. The voice of the Sorting Hat spoke into his mind. Harry didn't reply. He didn't jump, as the others had (no matter how subtle they were he had noticed anyways), either. Not much of a talker, eh? These shield are strong... Your memories are beyond even my reach, but not your personality, so it's fine. You can't hide what you're like, after all. What are you, though? I have the vague impression of memories that do not belong to this time, this life. A necromancer who made sure he retained his memories before reincarnation? Or... Something more? Well, never mind that, let's get you sorted... Hm... You'd do well in any house. But I feel as if you wish for Slytherin. So... I'll just let you be in...

"Slytherin!"

Harry allowed the smallest of smiles as he took the hat off, hearing the hat grumble about him being so unflappable. He gave the hat back to Dumbledore, giving a small smile in reply to the curious twinkle in those blue eyes. Then, he whipped around and swept to the Slytherin table, cloak doing an impressive imitation of Snape.

He was aware of the dismal amount of applause he had gotten, but it didn't bother him at all. Harry could see all the glares that the Slytherins were giving him and ignored their silent demands to stay the fuck away. Then he caught Malfoy's eye and the blonde glanced to the seat next to him at the end of the first year section of the table. Both Lestrange and Malfoy gave him small nods in acknowledgement and he couldn't resist the urge to chuckle when the hostile looks increased. Then, everyone began ignoring him in favor of the rest of the sorting.

"Rookwood, Lupa!"

A relation to Augustus Rookwood the DoM worker slash death Eater perhaps?

"Ravenclaw!"

The intelligence must run in the family.

"Rosier, Thane!"

Ah... Rosier...

"Gryffindor!"

... Really?

A couple of people in Slytherin snickered. Rosier was pouting and glaring at the hat, but then he shrugged, giving it back and made his way to the opposite side of the hall lazily before sitting and promptly falling asleep on the table.

Interesting.

"Thompson, Luke!"

Harry decided that he liked this Muggleborn as he watched said Muggleborn go and sit on the stool. He could see the power he held. He was very close to Magic. His magic was strong, pure, raw, but, unfortunately, uncontrolled.

"Gryffindor!"

He saw Malfoy give him a startled glance and new that Malfoy had noticed the magic in the Muggleborn.

"Turner, Katherine!"

Oh, it was the Muggleborn he had been talking to before. Already, her magic was much more alive.

"Hufflepuff!"

"Umbridge, Settia!"

Umbridge?! Urg, he could see the similarities between her and his fifth year teacher. Toad like with that sugary smile. Her entire countenance screamed 'fake', although it wasn't enough to cover up her nervousness. How ugly. Her magical strength was average at best, too. At least there was no pink.

"Slytherin!"

Just great. He now had to share a house with the toad. At least he wasn't a girl and didn't have to share a room with her.

He felt Nagini shift beneath his robes and poke her head out from his sleeve. Harry stroked her head, causing her to hiss appreciatively, as the headmaster stood up and talked, making announcements. He didn't pay too much attention and the headmaster didn't say much either, so the food appeared rather quickly.

Abraxas moved beside him as he talked with his friends, many of which were glaring at Harry, but Harry didn't even look up. Instead, he wandlessly layered a shield over his body which would deflect any spells sent at him back to their caster. Nagini flicked her tongue out and reared a little to look over the edge of the table at the food.

"Master, I'm hungry!" She hissed, snapping her jaws slightly.

"Alright, alright, dear, I'll feed you..." He muttered at the snake. Nagini hissed excitedly in return and Harry speared some of the roast chicken on his knife and fed it to Nagini.

Nagini ate in a very peculiar way, Harry realized. She would snap her jaws around the knife and pull back, only taking some of the meat with her. Then proceed to repeat the action, tearing off minuscule parts, swallowing only when it was all in her jaws. He suddenly felt a gaze on him and looked up. Many of the first years and even second years, those that were sitting near him, were pale, staring at the large, elegant head of his snake. Malfoy had an expression of profound horror as if remember the threats Harry had made about Nagini eating him and many of the others were gaping.

"What?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow and continuing his stroking, only pausing when Nagini shot up and snatched half of the roast chicken away. He glanced towards the High table, glad when he realized that all the teachers that could see them were occupied. The gapers went a few shades paler when they saw how large Nagini really was. "Afraid of the little snake? Your own mascot? Your behavior isn't very Slytherin." His eyes flew to Settia Umbridge who seemed to have broken out of her trance, and gone to the verge of screaming. He quickly pointed at her, silencing her without a word just before she attempted to scream. He narrowed his eyes and hissed at her, "Keep your disgusting mouth shut. We don't want any trouble. After all, Slytherins should show a united front, shouldn't they? All of you though, your behavior is disgusting. Do you not know how to be composed? Or are you all Gryffindors who wear their hearts on their sleeves?" Many snapped their mouths shut and composed their expressions sat this, embarrassed, although their eyes were still wide with fright. Nagini wasn't helping, hissing viciously and snapping at people.

Malfoy swallowed heavily and turned away while Lestrange continued to eye Nagini apprehensively. They slowly began drawing the others into conversation again, attempting to give a semblance of normality and ignore the six foot snake. Many of them continued to glance over or be jittery for the remainder of the feast though.

Harry couldn't help the dark chuckle that escaped him.

Terrorizing people like this really was quite fun.

It is, isn't it, little master?