Chapter 14

Home Sweet Home

Harry spotted Voldemort standing at the end of his walkway the instant he stepped outside. He frowned: Merope was not with him. He walked quickly down the path and shoved a handful of papers into the older man's gut. "Let's go."

The papers scattered everywhere. Lord Voldemort flicked his cigarette into the street to wave a wandless hand over the mess, collecting them back into a neat pile that landed on his palm. "You opened it. I told you not to open it."

Shaking his head, the young man felt ready for anything. "No you didn't. Let's go already."

Voldemort snorted. He folded the papers and tucked them into his waistband. "First, give me your wand."

"I left it inside." Harry shrugged.

The tiny smile playing on the Dark Lord's lips disappeared. "Go get it."

Harry sneered. "No. You'll just snap it in two."

Voldemort smirked.

He looked so much like Tom, Harry had to remind himself that this was the bad Tom. He stood so tall and straight, with a grace he could never hope to achieve. Long, spindly fingers twisted his wand in impatience. "Doesn't matter. You won't be needing it anymore."

Harry forced himself to breathe again after a jolt of uneasiness swept over him. "Right, where is my mother?"

"She's fine. Let's get going."

He hesitated. "Did you kill my owl?"

The older man reached out to him. "Give me your hand."

"I loved that owl."

Voldemort stretched his arm taught. "Your hand, Harry. Now."

Harry recoiled. "I'm not holding your hand."

"Give me your fucking hand!"

His eyes flickered and Harry hesitated. A fresh wave of terror passed through him. He didn't want Voldemort to see how afraid he was.

"Oh, what a brave little boy you are." Voldemort gathered up Harry's hand, giving it a rough squeeze and then yanked him to his side. "Defiant to the last. Let's go home, shall we?"

"Wake up, wake up. Don't nail me to the door, I have a message for you."

Tom groaned and stretched and shoved the pretty pest off over the side of the bed. "I warned you."

The tree snake slithered under the bed. "Please listen to me. You must take me to Hogwarts immediately."

The fog of sleep clouding Tom's mind dissipated. "What did you say? Hogwarts? Why?" Lazily. he dropped to the floor and stuck his head under the bed, curious as to how and why the little green serpent knew about his former school. "What's this about?" He sat back on his knees when it recoiled in worry, agitated. "Harry, what's this stupid snake on about? He wants me to take him to Hogwarts!"

"I don't understand you," the snake said, peeking out from under the bed.

"I'm not talking to you, I'm talking to Harry!"

"Oh, He's not here. Take me to Hogwarts immediately. It's a surprise."

"For me?"

"For him, actually. It's his birthday and he never got his present. Please indulge him."

"What time is it? It feels late. Everyone's probably in bed." Tom scratched his head. "Harry's at Hogwarts? Of all the strange and stupid things he does..." He pulled himself up with the bedpost and stumbled over to the wardrobe to get dressed. "Birthday present... more like birthday spanking."

The snake fidgeted. "Please hurry. I need you to take me to Hogwarts immediately."

Tom pulled a shirt over his head. "Shut up. If you say that one more time I'll make a belt out of you. I fucking hate snakes."

"Belt? I don't understand what that means."

With a heaving sigh, Tom laced his shoes and grabbed his wand. He tipped his head to the confused serpent. "Do I need to bring anything? Is there anything else you can tell me?"

He began to coil around Tom's leg. "You'll understand when we get there. Pick me up, please. Make us disappear to Hogwarts."

"If we're going to be intimate you should tell me your name first," Tom joked and draped the snake over his shoulders.

"I don't have a name. No one has given me one. We should leave now."

"Well, then your new name is 'Prat'. Okay, hold on, Prat," Tom said in one breath, grabbed the snake's neck and Apparated them to Hogsmeade.

Through a cool breeze kissing their skin and standing under glow of a newly placed lamppost, Lord Voldemort returned his wand to the waistband of his trousers and inhaled the now familiar smells of his stolen past. He carefully adjusted the cuffs of his shirt before smoothing back his hair into place. He looked at the young man standing next to him with a tut. "Are you quite through?"

Harry lurched forward one last time to finish emptying the last of the bile from his stomach. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "I didn't think it was possible to violently Apparate."

Voldemort grabbed the boy's collar and yanked him up. "Let's move, smart mouth. We've got a bit of a walk ahead of us."

Harry ripped away. "I know where we are. I grew up here."

"So did I."

Scrunching his nose, Harry disagreed. "No you didn't; those aren't your memories." His scar began to burn. Harry rubbed it unconsciously. He wouldn't beg for the pain to stop if he could help it.

Autos and locals occasionally passed. They were witnesses, trouble if Harry decided to bolt or scream for help. Wasting no time, Voldemort ushered him forward. "Do I have to force you to walk?" he said hotly under his breath. "There are so many ways to get you to do whatever I want, you know. And don't think I won't hesitate to snuff out every one of these Muggles if you cause a scene." He could see that the boy beside him was contemplating on something. He took him by the arm and fabricated a smile as an old couple passed them on the walkway. He then put his lips to Harry's ear. "I could throw my Invisibility Cloak over you and levitate you there. Or, perhaps you'd like to experience what an Unforgivable feels like? I could take your hand again, lead you there like a toddler."

"I'm walking!" Harry spat.

"Keep your voice down," Voldemort warned.

They passed two wooden street signs and followed the one that said: LITTLE HANGLETON, 1 MILE. "If we're going home why not Apparate us there?" Harry asked. "You could be torturing me by now."

Voldemort chuckled. "Too many wards up. We don't want your mother escaping, do we?" He pulled his wand free of his pocket. "Besides, I'm not going to torture you; Morfin is."

Harry stopped. He looked up at the taller man and every last bit of anger sank and was instantly replaced by growing fear. He felt himself take a step backwards. He was going to balk.

A strong hand squeezed his upper arm before that could happen. Voldemort jerked him forward. "He can't wait to see you. You have so much to catch on seeing as you put him in Azkaban Prison for a murder he didn't commit. He's really impressed with that trick."

"I didn't do that; you did!" Harry was panting. His heart was bursting to free itself.

Voldemort pulled him onward. "Yes, but I'm not going to let him torture me." He was practically dragging Harry along side him now. The boy was trembling. "Where'd that little attitude of yours run off to? Hm?"

"Fuck. You." Harry wouldn't look at him anymore. He dug his heels into the dirt road.

The Dark Lord wrapped an arm around the boy's waist, lifting him off the ground. "This is your fault, you know. Why couldn't you just- Goddammit, move, Harry!" The boy was a lot heavier than the last time Voldemort dragged him around. "If you'd just fucking do what you were supposed to we wouldn't be here right now."

Harry surrendered. His legs were jelly. He'd need to save his strength for the inevitable. "Fine, let me go." They walked in silence for what seemed forever. His mind raced. Tom would come. Yes, he'd show up in the nick of time and together they would destroy Voldemort and Morfin.

The heavy brush of the copse began to take shape in the darkness. The full moon silhouetted the place he had hoped he'd never lay eyes on again. His heart sank: Morfin's lumbering form registered before him standing in the road, literally rubbing his hands together like some sinister villain in wait of his damsel. The pain and fear he suffered as a child surged back into his psyche like a great wave. He gritted his teeth and turned to Voldemort, hysteria rising so fast he could not help but beg. He felt like a little boy again. He was the little rogue in the mercy of the two wickedest wizards he'd ever known. He gripped the man's wrists. "Please don't let him hurt me, Tom!"

And for an instant Lord Voldemort's conscience got the better of him. He frowned at the strange sensation. Something pained his heart. Something he didn't remember feeling before.

Harry, frazzled and panicked, missed The Dark Lord's sympathetic gesture. He took several deep breaths and swallowed his fear, composing himself enough to not collapse. He turned his back on him, to brace himself before Morfin got a hold of him. "I mean 'Voldemort'." His knees finally gave out.

Voldemort caught him round the waist. "That's the spirit. Now move."

Honeydukes Sweetshop was more difficult to break into then Tom remembered. He mopped at the sweat forming on his brow and quietly crept through in the dark passage that exited inside Hogwarts. Squeezing past the one-eyed witch, he gave the snake a flick to wake it up. "We're here, where do we go now?"

The serpent looked around, trying to remember the precise instructions his master had given him. He directed Tom as best he could and the moment he was sure he was in the right place, he bit the arrogant boy's hand and slithered into a dark corner for safety. Tom couldn't help but yelp from the pain.

"Who's there?" Albus Dumbledore peeked out into the hallway and spotted the former student hissing obscenities under his breath. "Oh, it's you, Tom!"

The boy's jaw dropped open, stunned. "Er..."

Prat began to scream, filling the young man's ears with terrible things. "Master Harry is in great danger, you must ask the professor to help us!" he cried. "He will die soon! Lord Voldemort has taken him to the House of Gaunt to kill him!"

"What!?" Tom went cold. He felt dizzy, weak and faint all at once. He stumbled absently into the old Professor's arms.

Albus pulled him into his quarters. The snake slipped inside just before the door closed. Ignoring the fact that the boy no longer attended the school and had most likely broken in, Dumbledore sat him on the bed. He quickly conjured up a bandage and wrapped it around the boy's bleeding hand. The ex-Prefect and Head Boy was furiously hissing at the offending snake, looking frantic. Never had he seen the boy showing any sort of emotion before, something terrible must have happened. "When you and your companion are finished discussing the matter, please let me know how I can help."

Harry screwed his eyes shut and braced himself for pain. Lord Voldemort pulled him back and stepped between he and his uncle. He held his wand out, pointing it at Morfin. "What have I told you about this. Don't ever touch him. Get back inside, fool."

Morfin, shocked and confused, asked, "But you said I could curse him!"

"I lied." He hadn't lied when he said it. It became a lie when he thought to himself that he would never allow that old pervert to touch his beloved Harry.

Harry opened his eyes. He looked up at The Dark Lord, who looked back at him, smirking.

"Are you serious?" He stood frozen in place, perplexed. "What's going on?"

Lord Voldemort gave Harry a puzzled look. "Did you honestly think I'd allow that savage to touch you? Honestly, who do you think I am?"

He sounded like Tom. "But you said you were going to kill me."

"Voldemort stopped. "I never said that."

Harry was confused. He stiffened in defense. "Yes, you did. In my head."

"No. Maybe I did. I think I was angry. I... It's just that you make me so angry sometimes that - that I want to scare the hell out of you. Do I?" He stepped closer in attempt to take the young man in his embrace. The boy took a step back. "Why are you flinching? I love you so much. You know I'd never hurt you."

"Stop pretending. You're not him," Harry said in a quiet voice. His eyes averted. "I don't even know you. You're the bogyman in my nightmares. You may look like him and talk like him but you're not him. This is some kind of trick. You're not nice. You've never been kind to us."

Lord Voldemort nodded. The young man was right; he had gotten confused. He scrubbed his face with his hands. So many conflicting memories had filled his mind too quickly. "Yes, I see what happened there. Curious, that."

Not wanting this disturbing conversation to go on a moment longer, Harry turned to enter the house. "Is my mother really in here?" He reached for the rusty doorknob and turned it.

The man behind him snapped from his reverie with a gasp. "Wait! I forgot to tell you-"

The door creaked open and in front of him, holding his mother's tiny hand, a young man looking exactly like him drew the same startled awe as he had. Having far too much excitement for one evening the vestiges of Harry's stability crumbled to dust and he fell to the dirty floor, unconscious.

"...but why did you break him out?"

"I'm going to put him back. They won't even miss him. I was angry! You know how I get."

"Keep him away from me or I swear I'll kill him."

"I honestly believe I went there to ask Grindelwald about something, I think. I don't know how this happened."

"And you wound up freeing Morfin instead? Fuck, that's sick. What's wrong with you?"

Harry groaned, hearing loud voices coming from another room. He opened his eyes and looked up, feeling someone smoothing his hair. Even without his glasses the silhouette of his mother was something he reconsigned immediately. "Hey, you."

She leaned in and kissed him on his scar. "Are you alright, darling? You took a nasty hit on the head when you fainted." She handed him his glasses and returned her attention to his hair, humming softly to herself as if nothing strange was happening within the House of Gaunt.

He sat up looking luridly around the room. Not much had changed over the past few years. It was perhaps filthier, if that were possible. It brought back so many memories, good and bad. He had to remind himself that he was a man now and not the frightened little boy who used to hide behind his mother's skirt. The voices from the living area grew quiet. He patted his mother's knee. "Is there somebody else in this house that looks like me?"

Merope peered over her shoulder to face the door. "Yes. I thought it was you until you walked in. Those blasted elves are up to their-"

"Stop it!" Harry snapped, sitting up. He gently moved her aside and stood up. "It's not the elves, I promise. I wish it were."

As soon as he peeked into the living area Lord Voldemort and the other Harry stopped their brooding and stared at him. There was an awkward pause that stilled the room. Harry lessened his aggressive posture, playing it cool. He had no idea what might happen if he overreacted. "Can someone please explain to me what is going on?" he asked in a small voice as he moved into the room and dropped onto a chair. He rubbed his scar. His head was pounding.

The other Harry was rubbing his scar, too.

"I would also like to know why you woke me up and brought me here." The mystery man walked over to Harry and bent down to greet him. He held out his hand. "Pleased to meet you."

Harry noted that close up this doppelganger was somewhat older than he. He had different scars on his face and hands and his hair was definitely less wild. He had at least a stone on him, as well. And of course to be polite, Harry shook the man's hand.

The other Harry straightened himself and continued with Voldemort. "First, I have Draco blubbering and rolling around on the floor, going on about something or other. You're about to end our lives any minute now, something like that. Now you land this big surprise in my lap. You said we were coming to visit mummy but you never mentioned that it was in some strange alternate universe where there's a younger version of me passed out on the rug. Oh, and you bring Morfin here. The one person in the world that completely terrifies me and you know that."

"He's locked in his room. He can't come out."

"That makes it better?"

Lord Voldemort leaned back against the front door, befuddled. Something must have changed in the time he began this notion of kidnapping the younger Harry and now. Something had changed in himself. It has also changed in his Harry. He was nearly the same person as the younger man sitting in the stuffed chair now. He wasn't throwing things or threatening curses at him. No, he was just arguing with him. He looked hurt, not furious. There was a life in his eyes that Voldemort had not seen in many years.

Something was wrong.

He pulled back his sleeve, ripping buttons from silk. His Dark Mark was gone. His head snapped to his lover; Harry's was gone, too. With a jolt of icy revelation it hit him: he was no longer Lord Voldemort – he was Tom Gaunt. Draco and he hadn't changed the boys at all; no; they had changed him. He opened his mouth to scream but a new and very powerful memory flooded into him, almost knocking him to the ground. His eyes were wild. His breath caught in his throat. The one wizard in the world that he dearly feared was right outside the door taking down the wards. "Harry, what have you done!?"

One Harry looked back, confused.

The other cringed.

Watching the old wizard manipulate raw magic enthralled Tom. He had been all wrong about the Transfiguration Professor all along: Albus Dumbledore easily surpassed every accolade he had ever earned. Swirls of brilliant light set the sky afire. Energy crackled around them, bursting and dissolving the intricate wards doming the old shack. He had planned on helping but could not take his eyes off of the agile flow of movement and chant of unknown incantations the old man was performing. Sod Grindelwald, he had just witnessed perfection and nothing would stop him from wanting to learn every single spell this man knew.

Albus smiled at him. "I can teach this to you if you'd like to learn. We can have these wards down in no time." With a dazed head bob, Tom drew his wand and held it with a grace that Dumbledore instantly admired. The boy was very observant, his understanding of magic much stronger than most. The lights were blinding now, the magics it assaulted fizzled and dissipated. The wards were gone.

Looking at each other they both took a mirthful breath, amazed at the strength of their teamwork. "That was brilliant!"

Dumbledore adjusted his spectacles as he made his way past the overgrown bramble, entering the copse of the House of Gaunt. "Wand at the ready," he reminded his companion, "we have no idea what's behind that door." He inhaled a great amount of oxygen, preparing to enter the home when the door opened and Merope smiled, beckoning them inside.

Tom flinched. "Er, is everything alright? Where's Harry?" He waved for the Professor to lower his weapon. "It's okay, this is my mother."

Stepping over the threshold, Albus tipped his head to her. "A pleasure to finally meet you." Quickly he locked eyes with the person they came to fetch. "Harry, how are you?"

Harry ran over to Tom, throwing his arms around his neck. "Knew you'd come."

"Course." They hugged for what seemed like hours. Merope leaned in to them with baited breath and Tom grabbed her into his arms so he could hug the two people in the world he loved the most. Harry wept with joy, snuggled into the huddle.

On the other side of the room Dumbledore caught a glimpse of two ghosts that seemingly dematerialized before his eyes. After a moment of fuzziness the spot was empty.

"Where is he, Har? Where is Lord Voldemort?" Tom had Harry and his mother shielded behind him as he took his place next to the old wizard. "I'm ready, Professor. I've got your back."

Dumbledore give him a soft smile and assured him that his wand was no longer needed.

Tom had trusted him enough to allow him to look at his memories of the past events. Albus began to understand what had happened to the two frightened and confused lads. "I cannot be sure, but I do believe that we no longer have to worry about this Dark Lord from the future. In fact, I'm willing to venture that in just a few moments he will cease to exist and we will not remember him at all."

"Why is that?"

"Because, my boy, you will never become Lord Voldemort. It is not in you, not anymore."

Harry laughed with a mixture of elation and frenzy, happy to hear that these last few hours would be forever wiped from his mind. "Merlin, that's a relief." The hysteria died off only when he pointed to the flimsy door, the only thing that separated them from Morfin. "Professor, our uncle is in there, he-"

"Say no more," he said, giving the young man's arm a pat. "You should take your mother home. Back to Richmond. I will take your uncle to St Mungo's. I believe that is where he can get the help he truly needs."

"I let Dumbledore see my memories. He knows everything," Tom said. And then they were gone. Lord Voldemort was no more. He thought and thought but the memories no longer existed. "What that was, I don't remember but I feel free for the first time in my life. Really free."

"Oh, before you go," Dumbledore added, postponing the Disapparation spell a minute longer. He motioned to a rather large crack at the base of the wall in the kitchen, next to the potbellied stove. "It would be best if you reunited your mother with her little elves. They really do compliment one another and they have dearly missed her."

Fall 1956

On the ninth level of the Ministry of Magic, deep within the Department of Mysteries, an Unspeakable dressed in a crisp white lab coat stepped out from the Time Room and closed the door with a bang. He detested the place and began jotting down yet another referral to the Minister of Magic reminding him about the terrible dangers and possible disastrous consequences of time travel and why that room needed to be destroyed.

His research nearly always resulted with the same conclusion: time travelers intentions, whether good or bad, could and would change something unintended. Possible results of any persons effected could become un-born. At the very least, his suggestion of placing an Hour-Reversal Charm on every Time-Turner should be considered.

Thankfully, his request to be transferred to the Love chamber had been granted. He would soon begin studying the powerful magic, unlocking its many secrets and its strange hold over-

"Hey, Gaunt, been looking for you!" Augustus Rookwood waved his colleague over. "I was going to ask you if you wanted to have some drinks after work but your husband sent an owl."

Tom looked up, smiling. He strode over and clapped the pock-marked man on the shoulder and took the delivered note to read it. He checked his watch. "I know, I'm late. He'll get over it. We're having a gathering on the grounds of Hogwarts. I thought I sent you an invitation." He nudged the bashful man along the hall. "Come on, I won't take 'no' for an answer this time. Everyone is going to be there."

The half-giant, Rubeus Hagrid, unclasped a line and released a great hippogriff to gallop off and take flight. On its back, Cygnus Black and his young daughter, Bellatrix, clutched the harness and feathers for dear life and screamed with jubilation. Druella Black fretted with worry. She clutched her infant close, watching the creature disappear into the clouds.

On the side of the hut a rather attractive Auror caught the Unspeakable's attention. The man was pacing back and forth in front of a line of potential applicants; stiff, growling orders, demanding their complete attention.

"Honestly, I may be late but you're still working."

"Dismissed." The young men and women in front of him relaxed their postures and quickly blended into the gathering's inhabitants. The Auror turned to greet his husband. His handsome face was painted with fading nicks and bruises, healed by magical salve. He grinned brightly, "Hey, you! Oh, hullo, Rookwood. Good of you to finally join us."

Across the lush grounds Harry spotted someone out of the corner of his eye. He frowned, watching a man carrying a silver haired toddler in his arms. He was looking shifty, turning his nose up to their gathering of half-bloods, mudbloods and half giants to join his party of pure-blooded folk over by the Quidditch Pitch. "Abarax Malfoy," he whispered, his eyes narrowing. "He's trouble."

Minerva McGonagall had appeared behind him and clipped the Auror on the cheek. "Working during our party? That's something I'd expect your husband to do, Harry."

"You made it!" he replied brightly, shaking the work from his head.

"I live here now, it's official. Oh, Tom," she said, turned to the handsome man beside her without a hint of contempt, "since I took the position of Tranfigurations, there's still an opening for Defense Against the Dark Arts. I know you're busy but even part time-"

"No, thanks," he said, cutting her off. He put his arms around Harry and hugged him close. "I like where I am. I'd rather keep the darkness at bay." He looked out at this group of witches and wizards, spotting his mother, Merope, sitting on a blanket with the new Headmaster of Hogwarts. She had given him a odd looking pair of socks that she knitted for him and he accepted them merrily. With no memory of his past or his once future, the ex-Dark Lord joined his friends in celebration of nothing more then being together.

The End

*Author's note: Again, I'm sorry this took so long to finish. A lot of it had to do with the fact that I have sons now and writing a story about two "brothers" having sex just wasn't in the cards anymore. Another reason, besides changing medications, I had written Tom wrong and the ending I planned did not fit. I actually rewrote this story but I won't be posting it here or changing it. If you want to read it it's under maizeysugah on the archive of our own site. I don't expect any accolades, I just felt that as I aged my choices aged with me. Thank you for reading and all the wonderful things you've said to encourage it. I really enjoyed diving back into HP research, brought back a lot of memories. Also, this isn't edited, forgive me.