Author's Note: Hey guys~ Here's a long chapter detailing all of what happens during Harry's sixth year, but from Tommy's perspective. It's quite lengthy and so it should make up for the next week of silence.

Also, I was a little inspired by Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" for a small bit of this chapter. You'll see why.

Dedication: Bellatrix. Giggles, thanks so much for your kind words; they mean a great deal to me. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters and rights belong to J.K Rowling. I am simply having fun with my imagination. Thanks

...Snape was waiting for him out in the garden. Tom walked up to him and together they walked away from the house.

"Will he do it, my lord?"

"He'll try," said Tom, smiling at Snape. "It is going to be quite an eventful year..."

CHAPTER 40: THE WIZARDING WAR- PART 3

Rowle shouted in victory as he threw his cards down at the table and smirked at the distraught-looking Avery. The man who'd lost grumbled and began to deal again. Meanwhile, Rowle picked up his winnings and proceeded to count them with such admiration. He had won all of 15 galleons.

The two Death Eaters were sitting at the coffee table in the corner of the room on a late Thursday night in October. They had been playing cards all evening, each game resulting in a victorious win for Rowle. On the other side of the room, Narcissa Malfoy was sorting through old family photos. Beside her, her sister Bellatrix was sharpening a pocketknife which Tom had given to her years ago. Greyback the werewolf was telling Bellatrix a rather gruesome story about one of his wolf experiences during his travels. And sitting not too far from them was Wormtail who was nervously rocking himself in a chair as though his life depended on it.

Tom remained at the top of the stairs, admiring his Death Eaters from above. They were all waiting of course for news from Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange, regarding a certain muggle riot that took place earlier that evening. Hours had passed since they were supposed to be back and the Death Eaters were now growing a little nervous.

Tom held his wand in his long fingers and began to stroke it gently, as he often did when he was in deep thought. He wondered how Severus was doing as the new defense against the dark arts teacher. He had not heard from him since Severus had departed for Hogwarts at the end of the summer and he knew he would not hear from him until the Christmas holidays when Severus would be staying at the Malfoy house. Tom had promised Narcissa that if Draco succeeded in his mission, he would release Lucius from Azkaban. Though, he doubted he would feel like doing this.

Draco. Tom couldn't help but wonder at least three times a day what Draco was up to and how he was doing with his mission. He had no idea how things were going back at Hogwarts, which was ironic considering he now had two men on the inside. He wondered, as he continued to stroke the beautiful wand in his hands, what kinds of methods Draco was attempting in order to fulfill his task.

But Tom had not spent the last two months roaming around Malfoy Manor and thinking about Draco's mission or what Severus was up to. In fact, Tom had been very busy indeed. He had managed to retrieve all of the forgotten Death Eaters from Azkaban, with the exception of Lucius of course, who Tom felt needed to spend a little more time there. Tom had also taken to recruiting many more Death Eaters and reuniting with old friends as well, including the Carrows, Yaxley, and Mulciber. All were of course happy to return to him and accepted their punishment without objection. After all, Tom felt it absolutely necessary to ensure that his Death Eaters knew he would not be taken advantage of. It was important that they knew he was not forgetful or forgiving.

"Ha!" laughed Rowle as he slammed his cards on the table again. This time, Avery jumped to his feet and drew his wand, pointing it directly at Rowle. Rowle's smile faded quickly and he too, got to his feet.

"What are you going to do, Ave?" he demanded. "You going to hex me now?"

"I just might," growled Avery.

"I dare you to," said Rowle. "Come on, go ahead. Hex me."

Avery did not move and his wand remained pointed at Rowle's chest. Narcissa and Bella had turned their heads to watch the two men. Greyback was eyeing both of them hungrily, and Wormtail looked very nervous again.

"Don't got it in you, do you?" said Rowle, smirking. "Always knew you were the weakest one."

"Shut up!" roared Avery.

"Yeah? Why don't you make me?"

The flash of white light that had erupted from Avery's wand blasted Rowle backwards. He hit the wall and then stumbled to the floor. Avery looked quite shocked from what he'd done and actually approached Rowle to give him a hand, but Rowle was too quick. He'd raised his own wand now and yelled "Crucio!" at Avery. Avery deflected the spell and retaliated with a rather nasty one that sent Rowle flying backwards again. Greyback laughed out loud and even clapped his hands a few times, but Avery did not smile. He looked to be very angry now and was no longer willing to help Rowle to his feet.

Rowle gasped in shock and forced himself back to his feet. He glared at Avery as though he was seeing another man completely.

"You want more?!" demanded Avery, furiously.

"That's enough!" interjected Tom.

The two men spun around and found him standing at the top of the stairs, his wand pointed at the both of them.

"I do not have the patience for your childish games," he declared. "Enough."

"Y-yes, my lord," they mumbled together, and as Tom made his way down the stairs, the men bowed and put away their wands.

"Where is your self-respect?!" said Tom, glaring at Avery. "Where is your dignity and pride?"

"I'm sorry, my lord," said Avery in a quiet voice.

"And you, Rowle?" said Tom.

"Aye, me too, my lord, very sorry indeed."

Before Tom had a chance to respond, there was a loud pop outside and the doorbell rang. Narcissa jumped to her feet to go and disable the protective charm and let the visitors in. Moments after, she returned to the room with Rabastan and Rodolphus. Bella hopped to her feet to go and greet her husband.

"Well?" said Tom, turning away from Avery and Rowle.

"Everything went according to plan, my lord," said Rodolphus.

"How many?"

"Seven dead, my lord," said Rabastan.

"Very good," said Tom. "Good job, both of you."

The two men smiled.

Tom heard the slightest and faintest cough behind him and when he turned around, he found Avery firmly avoiding his eyes. Without hesitating, Tom reached into his mind. Though, what he saw was admittedly not something he'd been prepared for. He saw Avery remembering a time when he'd been told good job by none other than Tom, long ago. He saw Avery remembering a particularly painful train ride during which Tom had decided to punish him. After all this time, Avery was still holding on to his childhood.

"Avery," said Tom suddenly.

He looked up at him.

"A word?"

Avery nodded and followed Tom out of the room. They went down the stairs to the cellar where the old wandmaker Ollivander had been stranded for a few months. Tom ignored him completely as he walked by his cell and Avery kept his head bowed as he walked alongside him.

"How long have we known each other, Avery?" he asked, casually, his eyes closed as he walked.

Avery frowned at this question.

"You know how long, my lord," he said, looking puzzled.

"Were you or were you not the first ever Death Eater?"

"I…I suppose I was, my lord."

"And do you or do you not know me longer than anyone else here?"

"I do, my—"

"THEN WHY ARE YOU BEHAVING LIKE AN IMBECILE?!"

Avery shut his mouth quickly and fixed his eyes on the floor. The two had stopped walking and Tom was glaring at him amidst the darkness of the cellar now.

"Do you not know well by now that I don't tolerate such things?!" snapped Tom. "Are you really that ignorant, Avery? Have you forgotten what I did with the Blacks? With Lestrange? Or did you think I would never dream of killing you?"

"I'm s-s-sorry, m-my—"

"Sorry? SORRY?! Let me define the term 'sorry' for you, shall I? 'Sorry' would be recognizing your faults and being able to terminate them. 'Sorry' would be understanding how to act and when. Look at me when I talk to you, Avery!" Tom slapped Avery hard across the face and Avery's head was now turned completely away from him. He slowly lifted it so that Tom could see the glistening tears streaming down his cheeks. "Man up, Avery, stop crying." Avery wiped the tears with the sleeve of his cloak and looked away again. "Explain yourself, Avery."

"M...m-my lord, I…"

"Stop with the 'my lord' for a second here," said Tom, who was growing annoyed. "Talk to me like we're back at Hogwarts, otherwise I'll be forced to invade your mind and believe me, if I do, it won't be for the simple pleasures of reading your thoughts."

"Y-yes, my…"

Avery caught himself short at the sharp look that Tom gave him.

"Alright," he said, sighing heavily and wiping another tear. "Tom…" he paused and looked up at Tom to see if he was angry for being addressed by his old name. Relieved that he wasn't, Avery cleared his throat and continued. "Everyone else is gone besides Rowle…and he's become very arrogant. It's just us left from that first group…and…and that first group was the b-best one, T-Tom, it really was. And…a-and it frightens me when you act irrationally because…b-because…you were my…my first ever f-friend at Hogwarts a-and I don't even s-see that b-boy anymore when I l-look at y-you…"

Tom lifted his wand, illuminating it, so that he could see Avery's face clearly in the darkness. He looked like the ghost of a man who was gone completely. From the first time that Tom had met him, he knew Avery would be a difficult one. He was a silly, stuttering boy back then, but during the war he had matured into a very respectable man—one whom Tom had been most proud of. He had been very confident and had made Tom extremely pleased. But after Tom's rebirth, Avery changed completely. It was like he had worked backwards and was now as vulnerable and sensitive as he had been as a child.

"Avery," said Tom, finally, lowering his wand slightly. "You have to let go of the past. That is the number one lesson I have always tried to teach you. There is no reason for you to linger around those memories anymore. Nostalgia has never done anyone any good. You know that."

"Y-yes, sir," said Avery, quietly.

Tom placed both hands on his shoulders like he used to do with Regulus. Avery looked up at him.

"You know you were always my favourite, don't you, Avery?"

Avery paused, then nodded slightly.

"But if you proceed to challenge me," warned Tom, "I am going to have to kill you. You are no different than Walburga and Orion Black, our old friend Lestrange, or even Regulus. You are just as much of a Death Eater as any other and so the same rules still apply to you. Understand?"

"Y-yes, sir," said Avery, feeling that it was appropriate to return to the formality at this time.

"Don't be a Wormtail, Avery," said Tom. "You are much better than that."

"Yes, my lord, I promise," said Avery, confidently.

"Good," said Tom, letting go of him. "And don't ever fight with Rowle again. I am not your babysitter and I haven't the patience to sit around and watch you two go at it."

"Of course, sir," said Avery, and with one small bow he retreated from the cellar, leaving Tom to his disturbing thoughts about what it would be like to perform one of Severus' nasty spells on Avery at the next dinner party.

October soon turned to November and brought with it the chills of the wind and the leafless trees. The snow was not yet falling but one could tell it wouldn't be long now. The Death Eaters continued to meet at Malfoy Manor but the dinner parties were only held about once a week, for Tom kept them all very busy. His Death Eaters were hard at work, attacking and kidnapping all the right people. They managed to get to a few ministry workers and spurred some panic among the wizarding community. Muggles were also being largely targeted, which alarmed the minister for magic very much.

Tom knew he didn't like Rufus Scrimgeour from the moment he'd read that Scrimgeour was to succeed Fudge. And now that Scrimgeour had been minister for a few months, Tom was reminded of why he didn't like him. Scrimgeour seemed to have far too much bravery for a man of very little security against the Death Eaters. Sure, it was assumed that, as the minister, he was untouchable. But for Tom, no one was untouchable…not even Albus Dumbledore.

Tom spent his days traveling for the most part. He traveled to rural parts of the country and interrogated various wizards. He did a lot of blackmailing, some threatening, and even a little bit of killing. It was such a relief to be back in the game. He had been undercover for a year now and exiled for 13 years before that. Now that the world knew he was back and was expecting something grand, it was time to act once again…

…and this time, Tom would act on a greater scale than he'd ever done before.

On one such occasion that Tom was getting ready to go out and track down another wizard with whom he'd dealt in the past, Narcissa Malfoy approached him at the door.

"My lord," she said, nervously. "I was hoping to have a little chat with you."

"Later," said Tom, simply, as he pocketed his wand. "Can't you see I am about to go out, Narcissa?"

"Please, sir," she continued, helping him pull on his travelling cloak. "It won't take long. We can walk out together."

"Cissy, don't do it!" hissed Bellatrix from the corner of the room as she ran up towards them. Tom turned to look at her and Bellatrix immediately halted to a stop before him. She bowed low to him and then turned to her sister. "Come along, dear."

"I wish to speak to my master, sister," said Narcissa, in a shy voice.

"Let her go, Bella," said Tom, whose attention was now caught.

Bellatrix stopped tugging on her sister's sleeve and bowed again to Tom.

"As you wish, my lord," she said, as she began to back away.

"Come on," said Tom, and Narcissa followed him out the door.

Outside, the snow was falling heavily and Narcissa quickly conjured up a cloak for herself as well. She wrapped a scarf around her head to keep the blonde hair from getting too wet with the snow. The two walked along the long path towards the gates leading out of the mansion grounds. Nagini had followed them out the door and was slithering at their feet. She was hungry.

"What is it you wish to discuss with me, Narcissa?" said Tom.

"It's about Draco, my lord," she said.

"What about him?"

"I'm worried about him, my lord. His father's absence is taking its toll on him. He is unable to concentrate well in school."

"It couldn't perhaps be that the mission I've assigned him is just keeping him busy, could it?" said Tom, lazily. "I thought you were supposed to be smart, Narcissa."

"Of course, my lord," she said, quickly. "I only meant…sir, please my lord, would it be possible for you to finally grant Lucius his release? It has been quite a few months now, sir."

Tom stopped walking and turned to look at her. Narcissa looked right back at him without a shred of fear. Tom examined her features carefully. She looked nothing like her sister. Narcissa had more of a motherly look about her. Her eyes were not as dark as Bella's and she looked more nurturing and loving. How sickening.

"Your husband has disappointed me a great deal," he finally told her. "You know that very well."

"I do, sir, I just…I only ask that you please reconsider and try to find a way to forgive him and let him come back to you so that he could do it all again and properly perhaps."

"Forgiveness is what you want, is it?"

"Absolutely, my lord, we live to be your servants and we want nothing more than for you to be happy with us Malfoys," said Narcissa quickly.

"But you are technically a Black," said Tom, smartly. "Blacks have disappointed me a great deal in the past. Look at your aunt and uncle…your cousins…all of them. Your sister isn't a piece of cake, either." Tom paused. "Why should the Malfoys be any different?"

"The Malfoys are a loyal lot, my lord," said Narcissa.

Tom highly suspected that she was inventing this as she went along. She had not prepared for this conversation at all. She had perhaps told her sister about it and her sister at least had been smart enough to advise her against it. But it looked like Narcissa was the stubborn type…very willing to do anything for her husband and her son…out of pure, motherly love. Why, this was all too familiar for Tom's liking—another foolish Lily Potter standing before him, waiting for him to decide the fate of her family.

"Very well, Narcissa," said Tom at last. "I have to go now but I will consider what you have asked of me, for the purposes of taking care of my own. Lord Voldemort after all takes care of his own."

"You are too kind, my lord," said Narcissa, bowing low to him. "Too very kind."

"I know," said Tom, straightening up. How sickening.

Before long, the Christmas holidays had fallen upon them all. The Death Eaters were certainly not big on any holiday celebrations, but they were definitely excited about Draco's and Snape's return. They would be arriving in just a few days and would be staying at Malfoy Manor for the entire break. Tom was also looking forward to this. He was mostly looking forward to the updates on Hogwarts and Draco's mission. He was very curious as to how far the boy had come.

And so it was that near the end of December, on a very snowy afternoon, Draco and Snape arrived at the doorstep of Malfoy Manor and were each greeted with enthusiastic hugs from Narcissa. Tom had been sitting in the corner with Avery, going over a list of recruitments when they entered the room. Tom sprung to his feet and greeted Snape with a firm handshake. He then turned to Draco who was standing nervously beside him, much like a younger version of Lucius.

"How are you, Draco?" said Tom.

"F-fine, my lord," said the boy, quietly.

"Good term so far?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"How is dear old Professor Slughorn? He has not by any chance replaced you as head of Slytherin house, has he?" said Tom, turning to look at Snape who shook his head in response. "I thought not…are you liking him as a professor, Draco? You know, I had him when I was at school. He was my absolute favourite of the lot…a very smart and foolish man."

"H-he's swell, sir," said Draco.

Tom eyed him for a second, and then nodded.

"Well, come in, come in, it is your home, after all."

Draco looked nervously at Snape who nodded his approval. Draco then moved into the living room and took a seat on the couch beside Bellatrix. She began to whisper to him and soon, Narcissa joined them.

Several Death Eaters had gathered in Malfoy Manor for the holidays, including old friends like Dolohov, Yaxley, Macnair, Mulciber, Jugson, and Nott's son. Narcissa passed drinks around to each of them and they laughed and discussed matters and various riots of recent weeks.

Ignoring them all as the noise of the room increased, Tom turned on his heel and stepped outside. It wasn't long before Snape took the hint to follow him out. Once they were out in the cold of the snow, they began their walk and Snape instantly proceeded to a review of Draco's progress.

"He hasn't managed it yet, my lord, but he is still working."

"What has he managed to do so far?" asked Tom.

"Imperio'd a Gryffindor girl into giving a cursed necklace to him," said Snape. "It didn't work, of course. Potter and his freaky little friends got in the way as usual."

"Right," said Tom.

"There isn't much else that has happened and the boy won't open up to me so I don't know what he is planning."

"Wait…he doesn't open up to you?"

"No, my lord."

"That's odd," said Tom. "I was almost sure he would. He looks up to you a great deal, Severus, as I'm sure you know."

"The boy hasn't said a word, my lord," said Snape again.

"Very odd," said Tom. "No matter, he'll get the job done soon enough. Now then, how are you doing with your classes, Severus?"

"Fine, my lord," said Snape, who seemed to have tensed up a bit.

"Any trouble at all?"

"None, sir."

Tom stared at him for a long time and then nodded.

"Well, if you do not wish to discuss it with me, I suppose I understand."

"Of course not, my lord," said Snape, quickly. "I only meant that I would rather discuss more important matters with you."

"Such as?"

"Such as how the recruitments are going and what is the plan for your next course of action and when things are going to really start up again and—"

"Merlin's beard, relax Severus!" exclaimed Tom.

Snape closed his mouth but smirked in apology.

"Things are going as they should be," said Tom, simply. "There isn't much news. I have recruited many more followers. Ollivander is living in the basement and the next course of action will not be determined until Dumbledore's heart stops beating. Understand?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Good. Now, how is dear old Slughorn doing? I mean, really, how is he doing?"

"Oh he's still Slughorn, alright," said Snape. "Still the same old, foolish, fame-seeking, ignorant, fat-bellied, wine-sipping git."

Tom laughed out loud.

"He has certainly been enjoying the potions master title again," said Snape, more seriously, "As I have been enjoying the defense against the dark arts post."

"Naturally," said Tom, nodding. "Has Slughorn spoken to you at all?"

"No, my lord," said Snape.

"Hasn't mentioned the likes of me to Dumbledore at all? Why, I'm quite disappointed. I must admit, I didn't think he would forget about me quite that easily."

"Dumbledore has not been spending much time with the teachers this year, my lord," said Snape, in a low voice.

"Oh?"

"He spends most of his time shut up in his office."

"Doing what?"

"Reading…talking to the headmaster portraits…eating lemon drops."

"Old fool," muttered Tom.

"With all due respect, my lord, I must say I disagree."

Tom stared at him.

"I only mean that he is a great wizard and you know this very well, which makes it all the more entertaining to watch him underestimate you."

Tom looked from one of Snape's black eyes to the other and back. Then, a sick smile crossed his face.

"What about the boy?"

"What about him?" said Snape, looking confused.

"What is he up to?" wondered Tom, who was for some reason imagining the boy teaming up with Dumbledore and strategizing ways to bring Tom down.

"Quidditch, what else?" said Snape. "He is captain this year, my lord, it seems to be the only thing that concerns him. Well… that and the Weasley girl."

Tom raised an eyebrow.

"You seem to really resent the boy, Severus."

"I do," said Snape. "He is a clone of his father."

"Ah," said Tom, finally understanding. "The old quarrel with James Potter, I see. You needn't worry, Severus, all will come in good time. That's a promise."

Snape nodded.

He didn't remember exactly how he'd got there. But that did not matter. The important thing was that he was back there. Back in the green of the Slytherin common room. A table that had never been there before now stood in the center of the room, just by the emerald green fireplace. And at the table, seven boys were seated.

Tom caught sight of himself in the mirror hanging on the wall by the door and jumped back slightly. He was back to his fourteen or fifteen year old self. He looked so very different… no red in the eyes, no slits for a nose...he looked just like his handsome father again.

Staring back at the group of boys waiting at the table, Tom slowly approached them. At the sight of him, they all jumped to their feet and bowed their heads. Tom sat at the head of the table and they sat as well. All heads were now turned to him, waiting for him to speak.

"What are we doing here?" Tom asked, despite of himself.

"You called us here, my lord," said Lestrange.

"I don't remember doing that," said Tom.

Last he remembered, he was at a typical Death Eater party at Malfoy Manor, years after this time frame.

"Perhaps you did not do it on purpose," suggested Selwynn, "But here we are."

"So best we talk," added Rosier.

"Why are you all speaking to me this way?" said Tom, who was completely puzzled. "I am your lord—your master!—and you dare speak to me this way?"

"There is nothing more you can do to us," laughed Nott. "We're dead."

Tom's eyes grew wide. He looked around the table, searching for a hint of laughter that would indicate this was all some big joke. He would surely punish them all afterwards for making a mockery out of him. But before Tom could respond however, three more figures walked through the door.

"Sorry we're late," they said as they approached the table and took their seats.

Tom eyed them carefully. They were young versions of Lucius, Severus, and Crouch Junior…versions that Tom had never had the pleasure of meeting back in his real life.

"What is this?" Tom asked.

"This is your party, my lord," said Avery.

Tom stared at him.

"Whatever are you talking about?" he demanded. "Tell the truth! What is happening?!"

"You mustn't worry too much, sir," said Lucius. "It is only just a dream."

"It is a time for us to talk," suggested Severus.

"Talk?" repeated Tom. "Talk about what?"

"You," said the boys seated at the table.

By now, Tom was well aware that this was just another sick dream. Still, he did not like it one bit.

"Talk then," he said, playing along.

"I'll start," said Lestrange, and he placed his hands on the table and leaned forwards. "Do you remember the first day we met, Tom?"

"Do not speak to me like that," said Tom, through gritted teeth. "And you know perfectly well that I am not big on nostalgia."

"Ah but see that's the beauty of dreams," said Rowle, cleverly, "You can't tell us what to do."

"Well, technically he can, it is his subconscious after all," said Avery.

"Yes but he doesn't seem to know how to use it," said Rowle.

"But the point is," intervened Lestrange, "That you remember the day we met, don't you, Tom?"

Tom eyed the table. The boys were seated in the order of their pledged allegiance to him. All of them were eyeing him quite fearlessly…as though there was nothing that he could say or do to them…not in this world, at least.

"Yes," he finally said. "Yes I remember that day, Lestrange. And your point is?"

"Do you remember all those late night trophy room meetings? And how you told me not to play Quidditch? And how you refused to play Exploding Snap with me and Avery all those train rides?"

"Yes," muttered Tom.

"Yet I still followed you," said Lestrange, thoughtfully. "I still did everything you told me to. I still paraded around like a pathetic little Death Eater. I had two sons who are now following you as well…I provided you with two more servants. And yet you still killed me."

"You deserved it," said Tom, lazily. "You deserved your death, Lestrange, you know that."

"It is true," said Lestrange. "I gave you the smart advice of telling Regulus what you had done to his parents and you ignored this advice and chose to frame me instead."

Tom glared at him.

"I completely deserved my brutal death, you are right," said Lestrange. "You manipulated a young man—a boy—to murder me in cold blood."

"What about us?" said Nott as Tom turned to look at him.

"What about you?"

"We died in your service!" exclaimed Nott, pointing to himself and Davis. "We fought in the war and you let us die. Whatever happened to your promise that you would keep us safe?"

"We were supposed to be the main group—the group that started it all—your favourites," said Davis.

"But you betrayed us," said Selwynn.

"It's not my fault you lot are too stupid to save your own arses," said Tom, coldly.

He did not like this one bit. He did not like his main Death Eater group talking to him this way. He wanted to rage at them…torture them…kill them. But they were already dead—with the exception of two. And then there were Lucius, Severus, and Junior, who were completely random additions to this little meeting that Tom was still yet to understand.

"What say you, Avery?" said Tom, suddenly.

Avery turned his head toward him and smiled.

"I say you were always very cruel to me, Tommy," he answered, shocking Tom a great deal. "You were the reason I stuttered all throughout my Hogwarts years. You were the reason I never amounted to anything great. I thank you for that, Tom."

"Stop it," said Tom.

"Just hear them out," said Severus.

"They make good points, you know," added Lucius.

"Stop it," repeated Tom.

"Rosier!" said Lestrange. "You're rather quiet tonight, is there anything you'd like to say?"

"Tom ruined my life, what more can I say?" said Rosier. "I planned to live a long and fulfilled life and instead I was killed in a riot shortly after his supposed exile."

"Supposed?" breathed Tom.

"You don't think he was actually unable to return?" said Avery with fascination, completely ignoring Tom sitting next to him.

"Of course he wasn't!" exclaimed Selwynn. "Don't you see, Ave? He ran away when he was unable to kill that Potter boy."

"I ran because I had to!" yelled Tom, but no one seemed to hear him.

"It was all part of a plan, you see," said Rosier. "He left us to deal with the aurors while he was out there, safe in some ruddy forest."

"That's not true!" shouted Tom.

He began to search for a wand in his pockets but it was nowhere to be found. This nightmare needed to stop now.

From the other end of the table, Crouch snorted, causing all heads to turn to him.

"Something you'd like to say, junior?" said Avery, sweetly.

"Yeah," said Junior, turning to glare at Tom. "He killed me."

"I did not," said Tom.

"You as good as did," said Junior. "A dementor's kiss, Tom. Have you any idea how horrid it is? No, of course you don't. And it's completely your fault that I was administered the kiss. It is a horrific death, one that none of you here can understand, so I would say that yes, I got the worst end of the deal here. I win."

Avery turned to look at Tom.

"How's it feel, Tommy boy?" he demanded.

Tom stared at him in shock.

"How's it feel to know that you ruined nearly all of our lives here?"

"I could care less how I—"

"But we're your servants!" exclaimed Lucius in a tone of mockery. "We pledged lifetime allegiance to you while you pledged fulltime protection and security for us."

"You never kept your deal of the bargain," said Severus. "Why should we continue to keep ours? More than half of us are dead."

"And the rest will probably be dead soon as well," said Lucius and Severus nodded.

"Dementor's kiss and manipulating a sixteen year old boy to murder," said Lestrange. "You're a sick fuck, Tom."

"Shut up!" shouted Tom, and this time he sprung from his chair and shoved the table.

The scene dissolved.

Tom was now standing atop a cliff he had often visited with Nagini. He was standing in the middle of a circle formed by his main Death Eater group. They were now eleven or twelve years old. The boys had joined hands and were running around Tom and laughing to a song:

Tommy the murderer killed us all

The smart and the ugly, the weak, and the tall

But he can never truly get rid of us

It's our turn to haunt him

Let's throw him under a bus!

"STOP!" shouted Tom inside his eleven-year-old self.

The scene dissolved again and now memories and images were swirling all around. Tom caught sight of himself yelling at his Death Eaters. He saw Exploding Snap and Quidditch. He saw the Forbidden Section of the library, the Room of Requirement, the Chamber of Secrets, the Trophy Room…he saw the inside of Dumbledore's office. He saw those accusatory eyes behind the half-moon spectacles smiling at him.

"I told you!" they sang.

"Stop it! Stop it now! Leave me alone!"

Tom shrieked at the top of his lungs but the images only swirled faster and faster, rewinding and fast-forwarding right before Tom's very eyes. It seemed to go on for hours before the images finally stopped, landing on one specific one…the crime scene of Little Hangleton. Tom's eleven-year-old self stood in the middle of the home, looking down at the bodies of his father and grandparents. Morphin Gaunt's body also appeared on the floor. Then Frank the gardener's body and Bertha Jorkins. Hundreds of others from the first Wizarding War piled themselves on top of the Gaunts and the Riddles. Tom's main Death Eater group (with the exception of Severus, Lucius, Rowle, and Avery) also joined the pile, followed by the Blacks.

Tom's head began to spin uncontrollably and the room swiveled around him again. He was losing his breath again. He was being dragged out of his own body again. He had sworn this would never happen to him again and yet now he was back in Godric's Hollow, back at the scene of the crime, being ripped from his body and shrinking back into nothingness. Lily Potter's shriek filled the room, followed by Harry Potter's baby cry.

Lightning struck and Tom opened his eyes.

"Happy Christmas, my lord," hissed Nagini into his pale, sweaty face.

The Christmas holidays passed very quickly and soon it was time for the many Death Eaters that had come to depart, and for Draco to return to Hogwarts with Snape. The main Death Eater group gathered before the fireplace of Malfoy Manor to say goodbye to the two departing. Tom hung back by the stairs, a glass of wine in his hand, watching Draco intently. Bella was the first to notice. She hugged Draco goodbye, glared at Snape for a fraction of a second, and then approached Tom. She paused, bowed low to him, and then took his nod as approval that she could sit down.

"How are you today, my lord?" she asked him.

Tom did not answer but continued to watch the departing ones…the way Snape placed his hand on Draco's shoulder, kind of like a father. Tom did not like it one bit. Narcissa must have been responsible for this. Tom had particularly ignored her request from before and had not freed Lucius just yet. Narcissa moved Draco away from Snape and began to whisper to him. Snape turned round to Avery and embraced him.

"My lord?" said Bellatrix again, placing her hand on his arm.

Tom wrenched it free and took a sip of his wine.

"What do you want, Bella?" he said, lazily.

"I want to know what you're thinking."

Tom paused.

"I'm thinking…that Slughorn really should have joined me when he had the chance."

"Horace Slughorn?" said Bellatrix, slowly. "What…"

"I just think it was a big mistake on his part," said Tom, simply.

He then lifted himself from the stairs and walked away from Bellatrix without another word.

Truth be told, it was always somewhere on Tom's mind. Even when he was off on his travels, recruiting more Death Eaters or blackmailing various wizards, he was still thinking about what a wasted opportunity it had been. He found himself thinking a lot about that conversation he'd had with Slughorn all those years ago. Lately, it was buried deep in his mind for some reason.

"It'll be our little secret," he had told the old professor that night.

And indeed, if Slughorn was smart enough to figure it out, then he was the only person in the world who knew about Tom's horcruxes. Or rather, he knew that Tom had been interested in them.

The months moved quickly now. Snow slowly began to melt as the warmth of the spring crept in, bringing with it lots of sunshine and greener grass. When Tom wasn't travelling, he was sitting at Malfoy Manor and desperately trying to pry himself into the Potter boy's mind. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not do it. It was like an invisible barrier had been put up where the boy's mind was supposed to be. This made Tom highly suspicious of Dumbledore and that he in fact had taught the boy this occlumency trickery.

Tom knew his Death Eaters were extremely busy but he had already warned them not to bother him with petty little details unless absolutely necessary. He knew the riots were almost a daily occurrence now. He also heard the name "Shunpike" mentioned a couple of times amidst whispers. But other than that, all was well.

By late March, Tom gave up on the boy's mind and started to think a lot more about Dumbledore. He wondered how much closer Draco was to killing him. He could hardly wait until the moment he would be sure that the old fool was dead. But still, the memories of all those interrogations in Dumbledore's office were creeping and stubbornly forcing themselves into Tom's mind. He saw himself sitting across the old man, watching those accusatory eyes searching his own for the truth. He had always suspected Tom. Always. And Tom had hated him from the moment he'd met him…from that very first meeting.

"If, as I take it, you are accepting your invitation to attend Hogwarts—"

"Of course I am!"

"—then you will address me as 'Professor' or 'sir'."

It had been the ultimate punishment...presenting the poor orphaned boy who already hated authority so much with even more authority to obey.

And what about all the other stuff he'd always said to Tom about love? What about how he always reminded him that he was woefully ignorant of this kind of magic? And how he never let Tom forget his real name and absolutely refused to accept what Tom had become? What about all of that? Exactly how did he expect Tom to not hate him and to not want him dead?

"I have some business I need to take care of," Tom announced one late June night to his main Death Eater group.

They sat up in their various seats and looked up at him.

"I need to journey far from Britain and will be back later tonight," Tom continued. "Do not let anything damaging happen in my absence. Understand? Avery? Rowle?"

"Yes, my lord," they mumbled in unison.

"Do not disappoint me," said Tom. "Do not anger me. Do not challenge me. Do not test me."

"Yes, my lord."

Tom turned to the slithering beast in the corner of the room.

"Come, Nagini," he hissed, and together, they disapparated.

It was not long before Tom found the Little Hangleton village once more. Nagini slithered at his feet as Tom pulled on the hood of his black cloak and began to walk up the hill. He greeted the other snakes in Parseltongue as he passed them and soon he reached the front doors of the Riddle House. Without hesitation, he let himself in and illuminated his wand against the darkness.

The home had not changed in the slightest since the last time Tom had been there. He doubted anyone had stepped foot in it. The horrid memories of his rudimentary form…Wormtail stuttering as he took Tom for walks about the grounds in the dead of night, whenever Tom had a breathing fit…Bertha Jorkins' torture. Tom truly felt as though it were only yesterday that this had all happened.

He stepped through the darkness, flicking his wand here and there to move furniture aside. It was like a horrible nightmare, being back in that house. The next worst thing would probably be returning to the orphanage which he knew was no longer standing. But Tom's presence in the Riddle House was very necessary that night. He knew that he had been particularly reckless with his thoughts in the last few months, which was exactly what had caused his downfall last time. He needed to be back in that house to remind himself of the consequences, for he'd swore that he would never go back.

Tom stepped over a few shards of glass on the floor and peeked through the window on the opposite side of the room. He could see the graveyard from here…just over the hill in the distance. That particular place exhibited some very good memories indeed. Feeling rather sick from his sudden nostalgia, Tom took one last look around the house and then walked out. Nagini had been hissing angrily at a brown snake when Tom joined her. He pointed his wand lazily at the snake and muttered Avada Kedavra. Nagini shouted in ecstasy and slithered back down the hill, with Tom following her.

He took his time, feeling very full of thoughts that night. Suddenly, he felt something that made him stop in his tracks. The Dark Mark. It had been conjured. A death had occurred. Feeling slightly nervous (for the first time in a long time), Tom acted fast and apparated straight to Malfoy Manor. Though, he was pushed back almost at once. He fell back down on the grass of Little Hangleton and rubbed his head, remembering that Narcissa had added a few more protective enchantments around the residence and that one could not simply apparate to those grounds anymore.

"We'll have to fly then," said Tom.

He apparated Nagini to Nott's old mansion so that she could wait for him there. Then, Tom lifted himself into the air and flew. This method was certainly slower than apparition, but it did give Tom time to think. Even though he knew he was not ever going to die, he felt like there wasn't time for anything anymore. Time was slipping away from him, along with the memories of his childhood. Though, he was rather glad to be rid of those. That dream really had been disturbing. And, feeling slightly paranoid afterwards, Tom had invaded Rowle's and Avery's minds just to check if they'd had anything to do with it. As thoroughly predicted, they didn't.

When Tom finally arrived at Malfoy Manor, he was met with a great surprise. His main Death Eater group, along with those who had visited for the holidays, were all gathered in the sitting room, waiting for him. Draco and Snape were also among them. Tom let himself in and stood in the doorway, waiting for the bad news he knew were coming.

"It's done, my lord," announced Severus. "Dumbledore is dead."

Beside him, Draco nodded slightly and then turned away to wipe a tear. He looked frightened beyond comprehension. Avery looked very pleased and so did Rowle. Narcissa was holding Draco's hand tightly and Bellatrix was practically jumping in her seat with joy.

"Dead?" repeated Tom in a surprisingly hoarse voice, "You…you're sure?"

"Yes," said Snape.

Greyback clapped his hands once and sniggered. Mulciber and Dolohov laughed out loud. All the other Death Eaters had wide smiles spread across their faces as they waited for Tom to comprehend this news.

Bellatrix laughed and jumped up to join Tom. She was not afraid this time. She locked her arm with his and faced the Death Eaters.

"We've done it," she announced, gleefully. "Albus Dumbledore is gone. Now, there is nothing they can do to us."

"We did it!" exclaimed the Carrows who were sitting in the corner by the fireplace.

"Actually, Snape did it," corrected Rabastan Lestrange.

Tom's red eyes met Snape's black ones.

"Severus," he said.

But something seemed to have died inside Snape for he only nodded in response.

Beside him, Narcissa's hand tightened its grip around Draco's and the two of them looked fearfully up at Tom.

"I'll do it," he told them. "I'll release him. Not because he deserves it, and certainly not because you've earned it…but because I, Lord Voldemort, am now the single most powerful wizard in the world, and you have been there with me for a good duration of the journey."

He paused and looked around the room, his eyes landing on each and every one of the gleeful faces for a split second.

"All of you," he added, and in spite of himself, he smiled.

Only 10 more chapters of this story to go! I am seriously dreading the end now...

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