Tom gazed around Diagon Alley a moment.

"It hasn't changed." He admitted.

Harry smirked lightly. Then he handed Tom the Gringotts card. He had put a chunk of his money into a different vault under Tom's name and got him the card, which was like a muggle bank card, so he could withdraw anywhere. Tom took the card gently tucking it away. Harry looked him over.

"We need to get you some clothes."

The boy smirked and Harry knew this was going to be a long day.

.--.

Tom ran his hand gently over the wall as they walked down the stairs. When they reached the doors to the pet shop Harry paused, his hand on the door knob. Tom looked to him.

"Try not to anger D."

"D's the man you stay with right?" Tome asked.

Harry gave a nod.

"He's not abusive is he?" Tom asked with a hard look in his eyes.

"No." Harry answered and Tom relaxed. "But he's…he's not human."

Tom blinked.

"I've been staying with him since last summer. He's immortal, and powerful. So don't get on his bad side. And don't bother the pets."

Tom looked him in the eye and gave a serious nod. Harry stepped into the pet store and for a moment just looked around at the bright cheerful place he found the coffee table already set with cake and tea. D sat on the couch. He smiled up at Harry and Harry felt Tom watch him warily. He could see the cruelty hidden in his eyes. Not many could. Only those who had given the same look could.

"Harry, good to see you again. Who's your friend?"

"This is Tom. I'm taking him to an inn he can stay in for a few days. I just came to drop my things off."

"Ah, would you care for some tea first?" He smiled.

Harry nodded. Ne suddenly sprang from under the couch at him. Harry choked slightly as she wrapped around his neck hissing at him angrily. Tom almost drew his new wand on her before thinking better and listening.

:Fool! How Dare You Sssend Me Here Early!: He hissed.

Harry had sent the snake home with Hedwig a month early because he was freaked out by the scent of the basilisk.

:Calm Ne. You were uncomfortable with the basssilisssk.:

:Of Courssse! But That Is No Reassson To Make Me Fly With The Bird!: He hissed.

Ne hated flying, even if he was in soft, warm, cushioned carrier. Harry pried the snake from his neck. It hissed like a pout and curled around him.

"Interesting familiar." Tom said. "I had a king Cobra. Her name was a Nagini. She's probably with Voldemort though."

Harry nodded once and sat down, Tom cautiously sitting beside him. They shared a silence as they sipped at tea.

.--.

Harry gently stroked the canvas with brush. It left a thin white mark. Red accompanied blending with the white in a way it looked to fade together. He gently finished the stroke and pulled the brush back to examine the painting. A man kneeled on the ground slumped in defeat, gazing straight at the painter through wavy black hair. Behind him sprouted two large white wings. He was dressed in long flowing black robes showing off an attractive figure.

He kneeled on a piece of burnt ground. Chains seemed to grow from the ground wrapping around his magnificent wings holding them down. Shackles covered his arms and legs tying him to the ground. A metal collar circled his neck with a few broken chains hanging from it. The background made it look like the world burned. There was an indistinctive shape of a forest crumbled and burned. The whole horizon was one fire, lighting the sky with a red glow. The ground beside the man was burnt and bloody. The most emotional piece of the work was the eyes. They stared out from a curtain of long wavy black tresses looking straight at the one who gazed at the work. They were a brilliant blue, dulled by pain and betrayal.

Harry smiled in an empty way and stood setting his paints aside. A man behind him stared at the painting as Harry cleaned up his paints. The art gallery he was in was filled up with people here to view the pieces displayed on opening night. It was a brand new gallery made for good pieces of work. Harry had gotten an invitation to enter his art as D had suggested him, and D knew quite a few high up people. Everyone was gathered on the bottom floor to listen to the opening speech. Though this one man was the one who had opened the gallery and had taken a quick look to make sure everything was ready. He had stopped to watch Harry paint for the last five minutes. Harry hung the painting on the wall casting a discreet spell to dry the paint.

"It's amazing." The man behind him whispered. "How old are you kid."

Harry smiled absently.

"Twelve."

His looked at Harry in amazement.

"Would you be interested in selling this piece?"

"I'm afraid I made that especially for someone."

The man nodded absently. Harry set the small title tag beside the painting; 'Black Innocence'. The man absently looked at his other paintings as Harry finished putting the last paint in his case and as people started to flood the area to see the paintings. A man came over to talk with the owner of the gallery (who was looking at Harry's painting). He talked with the man a moment before being shown Harry's paintings. Harry who had found a cloth to wipe his hands with stood back a few feet to watch them talk lowly over his paintings. There was one with a kelpie, its black hair seeming to shimmer as its Maen dripped. It was watching three small children play on the other side of the small river, surrounded by old gnarled trees. You could see the predatory glint in its eye. 'Creatures Of Deep'.

The second picture was a man gazing at his reflection in a mirror and seeing himself smirking cruelly holding a bloody knife. His wife, who was asleep on the bed behind the man, was dead in the reflection. It was so twisting that you really couldn't tell which was the reflection and which was not. Which was reality and which was not. 'Soul Reflection'. The third painting was of a man, draped in elegant black, navy blue, and silver robes. The hood was down on his cloak showing an elegant aristocratic face with long elegant blonde hair and silver eyes. He stood between two large ancient tress. Behind him were other gnarled trees all sending shadows scattered through the woods. He stood on fresh grass, covered in shadows. He seemed to radiate a soft light as he stood proudly, head held high. 'Pride'.

The fourth picture showed an Asian man wearing a traditional green and brown changshan. He had straight black hair to his shoulders and golden eyes. He had large feathery white wings sprouting from his back. The tips were a blood red color. He sat on a railing of a large stone castle. Like Hogwarts almost. You could only see part of the wall and balcony behind him. The balcony had shimmering red roses and thorns growing all over it. The man's hands gripped the metal iron wrought railing as his legs dangled gracefully in front of him, his wings flared out. He looked ready to jump. A look of pure joy on his face. It was night and he was bathed in moonlight giving him an ethereal glow. 'Freedom'.

His fifth painting was of a man with silkily black hair and pale skin. He was draped in black and stood straight. His eyes looked like pools of swirling ink as they gazed at a basin in front of him. He stood in a stone room draped with plain silver and green tapestries covered in snakes. He stood in front of an elegant wood table which held a stone basin full of water. The water rippled and small shapes could bee seen within, the one that stood out the most was fiery red hair and a woman's face. The man had a look of regret as he looked at the water. Directly behind him the tapestry held a skull and snake. 'Regret'.

The sixth held a pale man with smooth black hair and icy blue eyes. He stood looking off in the distant wearing light blue and icy silver robes. In his hand he held a long curved blade which rested lazily. The bottom of his robes were drenched in blood just like the ground. His sword was also speckled with blood, dripping it to the ground. The man stood in what looked like a torn up field, empty of anything besides him, the blood stained ground, and the marks of battle. 'Victory'.

The seventh picture was of a man with shaggy brown-blonde hair and amber eyes. He wore deep brown almost black robes and had a snarl on his face showing fangs. He stood in a position that screamed feral strength. He looked ready to fight, his hands out showing long sharp claws. His stood in a wooden room a torch to his right making shadows flicker around. The shadows took on the shapes of monsters and people. 'Survival'.

His eighth picture was Tom. Tom stood elegantly in a stone room. He was slouched, looking up through his bangs making his red eyes seem ominous. His had a charming smirk on with a cruel glint in his eyes. Behind him was the basilisk, very much alive. It lay behind him not moving to harm, just looking where he was. It had coiled loosely around Tom once showing it was protecting him. 'Power'.

His ninth picture was slightly different from the others. It was a woman floating gently to the ground on large white speckled wings. Her wings looked like those of an owl. She had stark white hair that reached her lower back, fanning out delicately. She was pale with large golden eyes. She wore robes of white with small black markings at various places. She had her arms spread slightly her knees bent for landing, a look of peace of her face. It was night and she stood in front of a lake that reflected the full moon. In her one hand was a violin, which had blood dripping from the strings. The second hand held a bow also dripping in blood. She gave off a delicate glow and a warm smile. 'Hedwig'.

Harry smiled lightly and glided off to the food table to grab a snack. By the time the night was over he had requests for paintings, and had sold a few. He had kept the one of Snape, Noir, Maen, Tom, and Lucius. He sold the others. The one that drew the most attention was the one he had finished painting earlier. He was saving if for someone though. Most remarked it looked like that newly escaped criminal. Harry would just smile.

.--.

D smirked at him and Harry sighed, pulling at his collar slightly. There was an event or something going on for some wealthy man. D took care of his cats, which the man had a soft spot for, so D had been invited, and suggested Harry as entertainment. Now Harry was to play a few songs for the people as they chatted on during dinner. Harry sighed again and D gave a laugh as he gently shoved Harry onto the stage over looking the bunch of tables. It was more of a party then a dinner. It was the man's birthday or something. Harry straightened himself and a few curious people looked up from his meals to glance at him. He knew there would no introduction. He just was there to play. He started off with a slow, soft melody, trying not to make it so haunting. Soon he was lost in his own music, intertwining magic to make the mood lighter. He knew this wouldn't be his last performance.

.--.

Harry gazed at Tom who slid from the crowd giving a grin and looking fairly warm. He plopped down on the chair opposite of Harry and grabbed his own drink gulping it down. Harry gave a slight smirk sipping his pop. His night club was in full bloom, and a huge success. Tom smirked at him.

"No dancing?"

"No."

Tom just clucked his tongue. Then he leaned over a grin in his eyes and a smirk on his lips.

"Feel too young?" he asked.

"No. I do not like wild dancing." He said blandly.

Tom just smirked and leaned over to their faces were inches apart. Their breathe mingled as they blocked everyone out. Tom leaned over the few extra centimetres and brushed his lips against Harry's. His first real kiss, besides the one ghost Tom had given him. Harry let his eyes drift shut. The feeling of lips against his own was pleasant. A moment later a hand rested on the back of his neck deepening the kiss. A few moments later Tom pulled back. He smirked again and Harry just looked at him through half lidded eyes and sipped at his pop again, a hint of a smile hidden behind his drink.

.--.

End of Chapter 18.