Publicly claiming the title of Lord Slytherin meant he was once again socially acceptable. Tom found great amusement in that fact as he watched the others, his so-called friends at school that Harry insistently called his followers, gather around the table. Where before, their parents would have punished them for following the nameless Half-blood, they were now clamoring over themselves to earn his favor once more. Harry sat to his right, Alexander to his left. Despite being Alexander's home, he had positioned Tom at the head of the table.

"You just claimed a title of one of the oldest families in Britain. The only ones with a claim on longer would be the Peverells and the Blacks," Alexander said before the others came, eyeing Harry as he said that. His friend was sharp and long since figured out that there was Black blood somewhere in his bloodline. He had the same jawline as Alphard, Tom had noted more than once, the same cheekbones too.

It was a bit strange to think that Dorea Black, now Dorea Potter, who had been a prefect for the first three years Tom, was Harry's grandmother. And Harry had clearly been familiar with the Black family's ancestral townhouse, Grimmauld Place, so he clearly spent a good deal of time there in the future.

Not that it mattered much anyway. All the old families had intermarried at one point or another. There were Gaunts on the Black family tree, and Blacks on the Gaunt ones as well, he was sure. Both the Slytherin and Gryffindor bloodlines came from the Peverells, as the Peverells had been around long before they became famous for the three brothers and the Deathly Hallows.

"My friends," Tom said as the last of them settled in. "It's been nearly seven years since we last met like this."

Their eyes tilted down in shame... guilt.

"Seven years of waiting. I am eager to hear what progress has been made."

The silence was telling.

"No need to be shy," Tom teased, taking joy in how they all trembled. "Surely, you must be eager to share what you've done to further our noble cause."

They refused to meet his eyes. Beside him, Harry had gone stiff. That was strange. He never knew Harry to be afraid of him. Had never known him to be afraid of anything, really. He would have to ask him about that later, but not now.

"No? Nobody?" Tom smiled, a mouthful of teeth and eyes a tad too bright. He knew that they were red sometimes since he split his soul, that they seemed to glow when that happened. "Well, let me tell you what I have done."

If this had been the days before Harry, he would have cast a Crucio or two at them. He would have seen them beg his forgiveness. Part of him still desired that, but he doubted that Harry would be happy if Tom did such a thing.

"I have taken a seat in the Wizengamots that holds a number of votes, votes that have been dormant for years." He motioned a hand to Harry. "Lord Peverell has joined our number. His seats are influential and his proposed bill aligns with our goals."

He studied them. They all expected to be cursed, he gathered from a subtle brush against their surface thoughts. He didn't even need eye contact to do such a thing. Reaching out like this was as easy as breathing.

And then…

Nagini slithered in the room. No matter her form, Nagini rarely felt the need to be subtle. He never thought a slither could be loud until it came to her, a sound more akin to a teenager stomping up stairs than an adult gracefully floating into the room."What are these worthless two-leggers doing here?"

Tom's lips twitched and he was glad to see Harry's shoulders lose their stiffness, though the others began to pale at the sight of a giant snake.

"Be nice, Nagini."

She hissed at him, a wordless sound. "I am always nice. It's simply you don't appreciate me."

She moved to Harry's chair, twisted her body up around the leg, and settled around his shoulders like the world's longest-living scarf. His lips twitched at the though. He could picture Harry walking around Hogwarts wearing Nagini as a scarf and speaking in a stream of snarky commentary.

Harry ran his hand along her body and the others watched. Tom felt a deep satisfaction watching Harry terrify them. Even with his name, it was easy enough to forget who he was. Despite a grand title like "Lord Peverell," he was rather unassuming. At his age, he looked like just another Pureblood lordling, not at all out of place among the others at the table.

"My lord," Lestrange said, voice seeped in resentment. "You make it sound as if Lord Peverell is the most loyal to you."

Tom tilted his head.

"And where have you been during these years? What have you done to further our cause?"

Lestrange swallowed.

"Well?" Harry's tone was sharp, bordering more on an inhuman hiss. From the way Lestrange lost his coloring completely, it might have been in more Parseltongue than English.

"I-I-I-"

Nagini unwound herself from Harry's neck and dropped on the table, slithering across the length of the table to stop in front of Lestrange. She flickered her tongue, tasting the air.

"He smells like prey."

Harry grinned, a bit too wide and with all his teeth. Tom was honestly surprised that his fangs weren't bared. Beautiful and sharp and deadly.

"My lord, I… your snake, she's…" Lestrange bent himself further back as he looked at Tom, terror in his eyes, and Nagini took great amusement in following.

"Nagini."

"Spoil my fun."

She didn't move though. Tom smirked.

"She's waiting for your answer."

"Rabastian hasn't done anything, my lord," Cyril, Rabastian's younger brother, said.

"Why not?"

"He…" Cyril swallowed. "He lost faith, my lord."

Rabastian swallowed visibly. Tom moved from his spot at the table, moving slowly around it until he settled behind the man in question and held his arm out to Nagini. "I see. And you, Cyril?"

"Never, my lord. I have been studying where Grindelwald failed in Europe. I know his goals are opposite of ours, but his methods did prove successful for a number of years. I've identified which politicians in the Ministry would be most amenable to our goals."

Tom nodded. "Very good." He smiled. "Do you all see? This is what loyalty looks like."

Augustus Rookwood, who had graduated a few years after him, lifted his head. "My lord?" Tom inclined his head. "I have become an apprentice in the Department of Mysteries. My vows prevent me from saying much, but I will soon be in a position to aid you in your endeavors."

With two who had volunteered information, others began to speak, begging his favor. Soon enough, he dismissed them. They proved their worth well enough and he wouldn't earn any favors from his husband by cursing them. When he had been in school, he had a group of most loyal who had been his court when he had taken his proper placement in Slytherin House. They had become his inner circle upon graduation, but time had brought distance with so many of them.

Among the inner circle remaining at the table were Abraxas, Raoul Avery, Evander Rosier, Alphard Black, Druella Rosier who was now a Black and her husband Cygnus, the Lestrange brothers, and Alexander. Nagini settled back on Harry's chair, draping her human form over the arm of the chair much like she had as a snake. He had yet to attempt the cure on her, but Harry promised that his research was getting closer. Tom couldn't blame Harry for not wanting to risk Nagini's life on a maybe.

"My lord," Abraxas started carefully. "I'm sure I can't be the only one who noticed that Lord Peverell is in a position of honor." His lips moved and Tom brushed against his mind, catching the surface-level thoughts that passed by.

"You want to know why."

Abraxas paled.

"And are the rest of you in agreement with this?"

"Yes, my lord," was murmured around the rest of the table.

Tom nodded and took Harry's hand in his. Keeping him a secret was the way to let those emotions fester, and Tom refused to let Harry feel like that ever again.

"Hadrian is my husband. My equal."

He loved how Harry's eyes darkened at that, pupils expanding to take over the green of the iris.

He glanced back at the room. "Will that be an issue?"

The threat was clear in his voice. Most of his followers cowered in their seats. Alexander watched with barely concealed amusement, and Nagini smirked wickedly at them. But no arguments came.

"He will be critical for building our future." He paused for effect… for drama, as Harry would say. "You will defer to him as you would to me."

They all nodded and murmured that they understood. The rest of the meeting passed without incident.

"I can't believe you got married and didn't invite me," Nagini grumbled once they were all gone.

"To be fair, we didn't even know at the time. Peverell Manor's magic is sentient and we both said something that it took as consent," Harry said in a casual tone. Alexander choked. Nagini looked delighted.

"So it wasn't a proper wedding?"

Tom already regretted the tone in her voice.

"Well, that changes things. It's only right that we host a formal ceremony here."

"We?" Alexander's voice came out strangled.

She turned back to him. "Obviously, it'll be here. Where else would it be? Malfoy Manor?"

She let out a sharp laugh that made Harry flinch.

"And on that note," Tom said, tugging Harry out of his chair and towards the floo. It was time to go home.