Holy shit, this chapter was a pain! Mostly because of a writer's block, but hé! I'm back!
I hope you like the chapter! Have fun!
Harry's POV;
When Death leaves Harry's body, he gasps a ragged breath before silence reigns in the room. Harry feels a manic laugh bubble out of his throat, and he knows it's inappropriate. He just can't hold it back, and he ignores the disgusted look Riddle gives him.
After a few minutes, he finally calms down enough to speak. ''Well, that just happened...''
Oh, Merlin, he's going insane.
''Yes,'' Riddle answers, his eyes still wide and his complexion as white as snow.
''Are you now convinced how bad of an idea it is to continue the road you were headed?'' Harry can't help but snark.
If looks could kill, he would probably be dead right now. Well, if he could die, he thinks hysterically. He knew since the forest with Voldemort that there was something - wrong - with him, that most people die when hit with a killing curse. But Harry has always been the exception.
Now they know why.
''I think-'' Riddle starts carefully while he glances away, clearly uncomfortable, ''-that we both had too much to drink and we should go to sleep.'' The way he says it, it's clear that that is his final conclusion.
Harry looks at him incredulously. ''You are just going to ignore everything you just learned?''
Riddle scowls. ''We are clearly drunk. This - Death persona -'' He waves his hand towards Harry with a look of disgust. Harry glares back at him. ''-thing probably didn't even happen! How old was that whiskey we have been drinking? Are you trying to poison me?'' Riddle then says with narrowed eyes, and it's almost enough for Harry to burst out laughing, but he's afraid he would soon become a sobbing mess, and nope, he does not want to do that in front of Riddle.
Harry throws his arms in the air in frustration. ''Denial is a river in Egypt!'' He screams, and yes, he knows he sounds hysterical, but give him a break! He was just possessed by DEATH! And proclaimed as his master, fuck his life in capital letters!
''I can't believe you! But fuck if I care. If you are going to continue this devastating path on which you were headed, go ahead, you psychotic bastard. You just had your warning. I'm going to bed.'' He turns to the door before cursing. He has no clue where he needs to go.
''Mipsy!'' Harry calls before blinking when the trembling house elf pops in front of him.
''M-master c-c-c-called?'' She squeaks out. Harry ignores the glare he gets from Riddle and kneels on the floor in front of the elf.
''Yes, Mipsy, could you show me my room? I want to go to sleep. Riddle will want to see his bedroom soon too.'' Harry says with a glare aimed at Riddle. He then turned back to the elf, who was still trembling and was nodding. Harry gave her a hesitant smile.
''Are you okay, Mipsy?''
Big blue eyes turned to him, wide and wet before the elf burst into tears.
Fuck.
''P-p-p-lease, master, d-don't hurt Mipsy!'' She wailed shocking both Harry and Riddle.
Harry looks at Riddle with wide eyes. He is terrible at comforting people! But Riddle seems equally lost and clearly not in the mood to even try to be civil.
So it's up to Harry. ''Uh, I won't, Mipsy. Please stop crying!'' He pleads, but the elf only cries harder. ''And Riddle won't hurt you either. Right, Riddle?'' Harry snaps when the teen in question tries to inch out of the room.
Riddle lets out a sigh. ''No, I won't hurt the elf.'' He replies exasperatedly. He then turns to the elf. ''You are here to take care of us, right? It won't be convenient if you're injured doing so.'' He says in a deadpan tone but with a menacing air behind it.
Mipsy seemed to slowly come around, even if Riddle's words were less than comforting.
''Seriously, Riddle?'' Harry says while rubbing the bridge of his nose, knocking his glasses almost off his face.
''What? I said I won't hurt the little thing, and now I'm going to my room, elf, where is it?''
''She has a name! But it's probably a good thing to go to bed, just so I won't hex you.'' Harry drawls the last part, feeling exhausted from dealing with Riddle. He knew it would be hard, even if the idea of working with Riddle hit him spontaneously. He just knew from the very beginning of seeing Riddle that it would be a fight dealing with him.
''Mipsy can show masters both at the same time! Rooms are next to each other!'' Mipsy says, and Harry barely suppresses a groan.
Riddle equally doesn't seem happy with the arrangements, but he only shows it with a grimace.
Mipsy quickly leads them to the west wing, where apparently the bedrooms are. Harry hasn't explored the whole mansion, but it hits him now how huge this place is. He wants to explore, but not now. No, he wants to go to his room and fall apart for a bit where nobody can see it, especially not a certain psychotic arsehole.
He takes a deep breath. He's barely hanging on to his sanity as it is.
He tries to make a mental list, which is probably not his best idea if he wants to keep his mind from stumbling into a blubbering hole that he can't crawl out of.
- He is the Master of Death, motherfucking great.
- Traveling through time - check for the boy-who-just-couldn't-stay-dead-and-was-ridiculously-lucky-for-most-of-his-life. This new 'adventure' does not count.
- He can't die. Well, that's old news actually - even if Harry himself had been in denial since the Battle of Hogwarts.
- Harry and Riddle have Death's approval to better the world - whatever that means, Harry just wants revenge on the old coot- but even Riddle has support for a couple of future plans, even if he is in Death's bad graces because of the diary Horcrux.
- Harry will be going back to Hogwarts right under Dumbles nose.
- He lost his last friend.
Luna .
Neville.
Hermione.
Hermione. Neville. Luna...
His breath hitches. Riddle glances at him with a frown, but he ignores it and starts walking faster. Riddle keeps up with him easily. Tall, long-legged bastard.
Mipsy, thankfully, shows Harry his bedroom first. Without a goodnight or even an acknowledgment to the future Dark Lord, he walks inside and closes the door before warding it to hell and back.
The room is nice, as far as Harry can see right now.
His vision is going blurry while his breathing is speeding up. With one last thought, he puts up a silencing ward, and he stumbles to his bed. There he collapses and rolls in a fetal position before the emotions he has pushed away for so, so , long overwhelm him.
He doesn't hear himself sobbing, he doesn't hear himself breaking, but he does.
Left in the past as the Master of Death while he cannot even call upon his parents or lost friends feels like the cruelest punishment ever.
Harry James Potter is alone .
And again, people, no, not even people, a fucking GOD , demand shit from him. Harry always wanted to be just Harry, just Harry , but he knows for sure that he will never get his wish.
So he mourns his lost dreams, which he couldn't reach in his own timeline and will never reach in this one.
He mourns his lost friends and family.
He even mourns the manipulative shits that have fucked up his life in more ways than one.
For some reason, he also mourns Voldemort.
Even if the Dark Lord's younger counterpart is sleeping just a couple of feet away, he mourns the monster that gave Harry's life purpose until he defeated him.
Harry would never admit it to anyone, not even to himself , but he had been adrift and felt numb ever since his death at Voldemort's hand during the battle.
He ignores that it could be because of the destroyed Horcrux in his scar. He had spent almost sixteen years with the sliver of soul, and after it was gone, he felt empty.
So he mourns the monster and hopes that he can stop Tom Riddle from ever becoming Voldemort. He hopes he can make the Wizarding World a better place. Even with someone like Riddle at his side.
But-
Tomorrow is for future plans.
Tomorrow will bring a new beginning.
Tonight is for mourning.
Tonight is for purging his feelings.
At least, that is Harry's hope while he breaks down like he has never done before.
Tom's POV;
Tom wakes up and just knows that yesterday wasn't a dream. He knows this because the bed he's in is soft and warm. Almost too soft and warm. In the Orphanage, he couldn't ever get warm, no matter what the weather was outside. The depressing aura from the Orphanage made it so. The Slytherin dorms also always have some kind of chilliness, probably because it's located beneath the Black lake.
He knows that yesterday wasn't a dream because when he opens his eyes, he finds a beautiful ceiling and chandelier.
He knows it isn't a dream because he isn't in the Orphanage.
He swallows harshly against the fear that tries to crawl up his throat.
Because if yesterday wasn't a dream, did that mean he indeed has met Death? Did that mean he has met his future killer?
Harry James Potter. Harrison Peverell.
The time traveler. The Master of Death.
He doesn't know if he should just escape this manor and kill all the living Potters so he can erase this boy that can and will kill him in the future - or if he should listen to the nightmare that is Death when he warned them yesterday and - ugh - work with the boy.
He doesn't want to believe what Death has been telling them. But he may not have a choice whatsoever.
He scrunches up his nose while dressing. When he's alone, he allows himself to be without masks and allows his face to pass as many expressions as needed.
Not that his masks did much yesterday. The shock he felt must have been visible on his face the entire time. He was too shocked to stop that with everything Peverell had revealed. And then there was the whole thing with Death.
Tom feels out of it. Even when he's dressed in his best robes, even when he makes sure his hair is combed exactly 13 times. Even when he has read three chapters of one of the books he 'borrowed' from the Hogwarts library, he still feels unsettled.
Tom Riddle never feels unsettled. He is always in control. But since yesterday, all his control seems to come crumbling down.
Tom puts the book away with a frown before calling the elf. What kind of name is Mipsy anyway? And asks for instructions to the dining hall for breakfast.
Tom has always been an early riser, so he is surprised to see Peverell at the breakfast table.
He does feel a small amount of glee to see that Peverell looks terrible. His eyes have bags beneath them, and the nest on his head, Tom refuses to call it hair, is even messier than yesterday. It's as if the boy hasn't slept at all.
When Peverell notices him, he groans out loud. Tom only narrows his eyes at him before taking a seat.
''I truly hoped it was a nightmare, having you here. Or at least I hoped you ran away. I did basically kidnap you. There is still time to run. There is the door-'' He then points to the front of the house, and Tom rolls his eyes at his dramatics.
''Why would I run out of a mansion when my only other option is a Muggle Orphanage? No, I'm perfectly fine where I'm at now.'' Tom replies smugly while fixing his tea to the way he likes it.
Peverell lets out another groan and puts his head in his hands. Tom can't help but feel delighted to bring this out in the boy.
They eat for a few moments in silence, but Tom can feel that Peverell is itching to say something.
Tom does his best to ignore the other, focusing on eating properly and reading the paper Mipsy had brought to the table.
Peverell is squirming in his seat, and it is starting to irritate Tom, but he will not be the one that breaks the silence. He refuses to do so.
''You're insufferable.'' Peverell hisses finally after Tom very, very, very slowly butters his scone.
Tom hides his amusement and looks innocently at Peverell. ''Well, I've never! I just came out of a Muggle Orphanage in the middle of a Muggle war. There are rations, you know. I haven't had anything decent to eat for weeks!''
Peverell scowls at him.
''Just finish eating. We have things to talk about.'' The raven-haired wizard snaps in response.
Tom tilts his head. ''And what do you propose we talk about, Peverell?''
Peverell throws the napkin he was plucking like a chicken on the table and throws his arms in the air.
''Oh, I don't know, maybe how we are going to take Dumbledore down? The main reason I even took you with me out of that hell hole?''
Tom places a hand on his chest in fake hurt. ''And here I thought you just enjoyed my company. I'm hurt. Truly.'' He drawled.
''As if you even have feelings besides anger and hate.'' Peverell murmurs while he rubs his eyes. His outrageous glasses almost fall down.
''You don't know anything about me.'' Tom hisses back. The teasing air is gone now.
''I know enough! Didn't I prove that yesterday? Huh, Riddle?!'' Peverell pushes himself away from the table, and anger rolls off him in waves. Tom hasn't said or done anything to encourage such outburst.
But maybe Peverell is just as emotional as Tom can be. Peverell only doesn't hide it. Not like Tom does.
He keeps silent for the moment, curious about how Peverell will react. Probably explosive. Something Tom desperately wants to see, he wants to see that fire in those Avada green eyes, he wants to feel the power that hides beneath Peverell's skin.
He wants to own everything about the man.
''You're infuriating! I don't even know why I even try to be civil. It's clear that you're just ARGH!'' Peverell is pulling at his hair in frustration.
Tom hides his smirk, but his mirth must be visible to Peverell because the man glares at him with all his might. Tom was right. The anger in those green eyes is beautiful to see.
Tom clicks his tongue. ''You are so easily manipulated.''
Peverell flushes, ''I am not. I was easily manipulated, but I will not be influenced anymore, especially not by Dumbledore and not by you. If we are going to work together so the Wizarding World will be better, we need to be at least a bit civil towards each other, so no manipulating each other!''
Tom leans his chin in his hand and watches Peverell squirm for a moment after his heated statement. But Tom knows they should start to plan, start building their empire where they can make sure the Wizarding World will not wilt under the broken balance - as Death had called it. Because even if Tom wouldn't want to, he needs Peverell in his plans, and they truly need to work together. Death was very adamant about that yesterday. He shivers again while just thinking about the eery voice.
''Let's say that yesterday, the whole thing with-'' He swallows. He can't help it. The thought of the being makes him want to run in another direction. ''-Death, was real. What do you propose we do? How do you want to change enough? The Purebloods will put up a fight of epic proportions, the Mudbl- sorry, Muggle-borns -'' He amends after the venomous look he gets from Peverell. ''-will not accept the Dark side of magic, so how-''
''Why wouldn't the Muggle-borns accept?'' Peverell is clearly shocked out of his rage from earlier and only sounds confused right now. He looks like a puppy with how he tilts his head at Tom.
''Because it is labeled as evil, the war with Grindelwald is not helping in that matter at all. He uses Dark magic like breathing. It scares people because they blame the Dark magic for his cruelty, but it's Grindelwald himself that is ruthless.'' Tom explained in a factual tone of voice.
Peverell seemed to think about it before shaking his head. ''It's because they are undereducated about it. I had- had a friend, she was the brightest witch of my generation, but she was Muggle-born. At first, she only focused on the light side of magic, completely in disillusion because of Dumbledore. But after the war and the betrayal I faced, she studied Dark magic with me. And we found out what it truly meant. Everyone can learn that balance.''
Tom snorts. ''That's a fantasy. You will not be able to convince everyone. Nobody will listen to a nobody, and that is what we are.'' He hates to admit it, but it is the truth.
They don't have any influence, sure Peverell could take his Wizengamot seats, and when Tom has turned seventeen, he could claim the Slytherin and Gaunt lordship. He doesn't know if they have Wizengamot seats, but he hopes they have.
But still, those are not nearly enough seats to really make a change, and all his 'associates' are not yet of age or have de ability to take the lordships when they turn seventeen because their parents or uncles still claim the lordships.
Tom feels enraged by the thought that all of the social climbing he has done in the past has been for nothing. How can he ever get enough leverage to truly change things? He already knows a war is not the solution. Death has made that clear. No matter that the deity had more souls to claim during the war, it would eventually destroy the Wizarding World if Death was believed.
But he does understand that with just Peverell and him, no change will happen without drastic means.
''I wonder-'' Peverell muses, pulling Tom from his own thoughts.
''You wonder what?'' Tom asks impatiently. He isn't used to asking for things. His followers are desperate to do anything to be in his good graces, practically beg him to pay them attention with facts and gossip. But Peverell is the exception. He would never dance to Tom's whims or follow his commands unless he had something to gain from it.
They may have just met, but Tom knows a strong character when he sees one, and Peverell is not one to break easily.
Especially not when the man is the Master of Death himself.
Peverell turns his emerald eyes to him. ''Dumbledore, in my timeline, got so much to say in the Wizarding World by defeating Grindelwald, among other things. What if we do it? What if we stop Grindelwald? We would be considered war heroes-'' at this, the disgust on Peverell's face is evident - which Tom doesn't understand. Who wouldn't want to be treated like a hero, as if they're better than anyone else? ''-they would do anything for us until we step a toe out of line, of course.''
Tom sat back. ''If you have the right people in your pocket, they wouldn't even dare to turn against us.''
Yes, Tom could see it now. War hero, the defeater of the Dark Lord. It would mean he couldn't claim the title 'Dark Lord' himself, not as he did in Peverell's timeline at least. But Lord Slytherin and maybe the Minister of Magic would be enough for him. He would rule the Wizarding World with an iron fist, ensuring no magicks would be forgotten or banned, and everyone would be treated the same! Mudbloods could be educated to understand the Wizarding World better, and their parents could be under secrecy contracts so the statue of Secrecy would stay intact.
The Purebloods can learn to mingle more with the Mudbloods so their lineage would stay powerful instead of dying out slowly or turning crazy. Just look at his supposed family, the Gaunts. If he understood Peverell correctly, then the inbreeding was clearly their downfall, to think that the last of the Slytherin line died out because they wanted to keep the lineage pure.
And then just look at Tom. He was so powerful just because his father was a dirty muggle.
''You already have multiple followers from influential families, at this moment, mostly Pureblood and Dark families, but we could broaden it the following years at Hogwarts.'' It was clear Peverell was musing out loud, but Tom did preen a bit at the clear compliment and liked to hear more about getting more followers.
''But, if we even want to stand a chance against Grindelwald, we need to train.'' The eager look Peverell threw him made him smirk.
''I'm plenty capable of wiping the floor with a Dark Lord.'' Tom insisted imperiously.
Peverell snorted, and Tom glared at him. ''No, you're not. You'll be killed before you can say Hogwarts.'' The infuriating man drawled, clearly goading him, but dammit, it was working. It was clear Peverell was underestimating him. Tom hated to be underestimated.
''I got the better of you, didn't I?'' Tom replied with a snap.
Peverell shot him a look. ''You did, but I just jumped through time and lost my last remaining friend. I think I deserve some credit that I wasn't bawling my eyes out.''
''Then I challenge you for a duel right now!'' Tom declared. Knowing for sure he could win. For a moment, Peverell just stared at him before a wicked smirk played around his lips.
''I accept.''
They make their way to the basement. According to Peverell, there was a dueling chamber there, and Tom was secretly stoked to see the room for himself.
Peverell activates the runes on the inside, and the walls light up, illuminating the room. Tom is impressed with the enormous room. It's almost half the Great Hall at Hogwarts. It is barren and clearly has not been used or cleaned in at least a decade.
''Which dueling rules are we working with? I know the rules from the future, but I can imagine there are fewer rules right now.'' Peverell asks him while looking around the room.
Tom pauses for a moment. ''Don't kill me, and we'll be fine,'' Tom says with a nod. Still ecstatic that while he's at the manor, he can use any magic freely.
Peverell chuckles, and Tom can hear a bit of manic edge in it. ''I would tell you the same, but well, I can't die,''
Tom glares at him. ''Do not remind me how you unfairly - without even bloody trying - became immortal!''
''Hé! I died to become immortal, at least twice! Probably three times if I think about it now-'' Peverell muses while looking to the east wall, his brow is furrowed in thought, and Tom can't help but trace his profile with his eyes. He can sense the magic in the air turn sour, and Tom guesses it's because of the change in Peverell's mood. He has always been sensitive to magic, but he can practically taste Peverell's.
He doesn't like the sour taste.
''Yes, yes, you are immortal, I am not; I only mutilated my soul, magic, and mind. Death was very clear,'' Tom grumbles, completely irritated again by the reminder. It doesn't matter that everything about Peverell draws him in, but that doesn't mean he won't get irritated, annoyed, or downright homicidal because of the man.
Everything about Peverell simply seems to scream at him for him to take, take, take- but Peverell surely won't appreciate any of it, so Tom will keep his distance. For now.
''Are we going to duel or what?'' Peverell asks him while stripping himself of his outer robe.
He's wearing simple black trousers and a white shirt beneath it, and Tom can't help but gaze at the scars on Peverell's arms.
He wonders which one comes from his future self.
The clearing of a throat snaps Tom out of his staring, and he disrobes himself, unwilling to be embarrassed of being caught staring.
Tom walks back a few paces until he feels that he's far enough away. And sees Peverell do the same.
They bow, and then the spellwork starts. It's glorious. The feel of the magic inside the chamber - the sheer power they both can wield is truly astounding.
But from the very first seconds, Tom knows he will lose.
Peverell is simply outstanding, breathtaking, and more than anything Tom has ever seen. He's effortlessly powerful. Something like envy and jealousy crawls up Tom's throat, but more than anything, it is want that is consuming him.
After just five minutes, if even that, Tom lies on his back, wand gone from his hand, and panting. He scrambles up, wide-eyed and a bit in awe.
His followers would assume he would be bloodthirsty with anger by being defeated, but no, that's not at all what Tom feels at this moment.
Peverell is standing there with a cocky smirk on his face, twirling Tom's wand in his hand.
''Rematch?'' He asks, his green eyes trained on Tom.
''Yes,'' Tom breathes out and barely catches his wand when Peverell throws it at him.
They go at it and go at it, for hours if Tom needed to put a time frame to it, or at least it felt like hours. Tom had never felt more tired in his life, not even when he was forced to clean all the bathrooms in the Orphanage when he was eight before magic made everything easier.
He hasn't even felt this tired after making his Horcrux.
Sometimes their wands lock up, but Tom breaks the connection quickly so he won't be lured in by the Phoenix song that sounds heavenly. It's also the only time he has a reprieve from the barrage of spells coming from Peverell.
Tom loses every duel, and for someone who always wants to be the best, he cannot find it in himself to be mad. He's fascinated.
Pev- Harrison (Tom refuses from now on to refer to him as Peverell in his head) has been through war. Tom has nothing on him right now. But he will, if Harrison is serious about taking down Dumbledore and Grindelwald, he needs Tom, and Tom needs to be on the same level as him.
So yes, even if Tom loathes to admit it, Harrison is his better, but Tom will not stop at anything to become just as grand.
Tom groans when his ribs protest after trying to get up, again, and he grabs them tightly with his free arm.
''Are we done?'' Harrison asks, tilting his head and furrowing his brow as if worrying about how Tom is faring, which, to be honest, is not well.
''You- are going to train me-'' Tom pants out, wincing when he tries to stand again, but then there is a calloused hand in his face. Tom follows the hand up until he stares into Harrison's green, green eyes.
''Oh, is that so?'' Harrison asks with a raised brow.
Tom can only nod while he accepts the hand Harrison is holding out to him. For some reason, it feels like much more than just an offer to get up.
It feels like acceptance for something Tom doesn't understand just yet.
It doesn't matter that the man drives Tom crazy from time to time, and how the man can get on Tom's nerves after just a day and a half is a miracle in itself, because this man, Harrison Peverell, can change the world.
And Tom wants to be right next to him when it happens.
Harry's POV;
Living with Riddle is not as difficult as Harry had expected. Sure, they banter and fight, they duel, and for some reason, Riddle wants to learn from Harry! Which is just bizarre if he thinks about it too much.
But Riddle can be a calm balm on Harry's nerves when they are reading in the library.
He thinks about his responses when Harry asks him why he made the wrong move during dueling, and almost every time, he gets it right.
Riddle is a genius, but that was something Harry already knew.
A couple of weeks go by without anything exciting happening. They just are ridiculously domestic together, which sometimes gives Harry the hives, mostly because he won't admit to himself that it's actually nice.
Harry has written to Hogwarts to be accepted into the sixth-year NEWT classes. He had fixed his OWL results with the Goblins, and the Ministry was none the wiser.
It was ridiculously easy if you had some help from the Goblins (or enough gold to spare) to become a whole new person.
With just a week and a half to go before Hogwarts is in session again, they receive their book lists. Riddle, of course, also received his Prefect badge, which Harry gleefully told him he didn't deserve after murdering a Muggle-born just last year.
Riddle just smirked at him and asked him to prove it before returning to his school list.
Harry, for some reason, had expected Riddle to blow up, but maybe unfairly, he had compared Riddle to Voldemort. And with just a few simple words, he could make Voldemort spit fire. But Riddle is clearly saner. He has split his soul, yes, but just once. Not enough to splinter his mind or sanity just yet.
Riddle also got his OWL results, and of course, he got 12 O's. Who even takes 12 classes?! The swot.
''We need to form a plan for Dumbledore,'' Riddle says casually when they are lounging in the library. Harry hums.
''I already have a plan.''
Riddle's book slams closed, making Harry turn to him with a raised eyebrow.
''Did Death put a plan in your head?'' Riddle asks seriously.
Harry scoffs, ''No,''
''Then it won't work.'' Riddle simply replies as if it's a fact while he hasn't even told said man the plan!
Harry sits up now and glares at Riddle. ''What? I am perfectly capable of coming to a plan of my own.'' He asks indignantly.
''Fine, let's hear it then.'' Riddle says with a wave of his hand while he arches his eyebrow as if to say; you're too stupid for that , and Harry wants nothing more than smack him.
Harry sighs before starting.
''I was thinking of putting something in his drink every other week that makes him act erratically until he is sacked.''
Riddle is silent for a minute before he hums. ''Do you take constructive criticism?'' He asks, and Harry is confused. Riddle doesn't seem like the type to give feedback.
He is more like a Crucio to the face if you come up with a plan he disagrees with. And plans he does agree to.
''Uh, sure?'' Harry asks warily.
Riddle looks him in the eye before responding. ''That is the dumbest idea ever, and you're going to find yourself in Azkaban.''
Harry pouts. ''That was not constructive.''
Riddle sighs very dramatically. Something Harry has learned is probably something all Slytherins have, the dramatics.
''Everyone knows Dumbledore and Grindelwald have some history, so Dumbledore is extremely cautious with what he drinks and eats, just to know for sure Grindelwald hasn't sent something or someone to poison him.''
Harry blinks. ''Oh shit, I forgot that Dumbles and Grindelwald used to fuck.''
Riddle, who just drank a sip of tea, splutters, and almost chokes - which is very amusing for Harry. It is still weird to Harry, though, Riddle has come loose in his company since he has traveled to this timeline. Voldemort would never have shown any emotion except for anger.
Shit, he compared Riddle and Voldemort again, something he seriously needs to stop. He's pulled out of his musings when Riddle has composed himself again.
''I'm sorry, but did you just say that Dumbledore and Grindelwald have been lovers?'' Riddle asked, clearly shocked by the revelation, even if he was trying to hide it.
Harry looks at Riddle, amused.
''Oh, mhm, yes, it is one of the ways I want to use to make sure Dumbledore falls from his pedestal.''
Riddle seems to think for a moment before a wicked smirk spreads on his face.
''Please tell me more,''
Harry rolls his eyes at the evident glee in the other's eyes. Who would've thought Voldemort wanted gossip?
''His father was locked up in Azkaban because he assaulted Muggles,''
''Dumbledore's father?! While he preaches for Muggles and Mud-Muggleborns?'' Riddle asks, sounding incredulous. He's watching Harry avidly while also sipping his tea.
Harry nods before picking his nails as if the next thing he will say isn't important. ''Well, Dumbledore's sister was attacked by said Muggles, and because of that, she was traumatized. She didn't deserve what the Muggles had done, and Dumbledore's father was enraged and went on a rampage. He ended up in Azkaban. His sister was being kept at home with her mother to care for her until she had a burst of accidental magic which killed their mother.''
Riddle was looking at him in wonder. ''How has this not come to light?'' He asks.
''Because Dumbledore kept it all secret. He was ashamed of his father and sister and didn't want to take care of her after their mother died. He wanted to travel the world. It was around that time that he met Grindelwald. And together, they started planning to take over the Wizarding World and do away with all the Muggles. At that moment, Dumbledore hated Muggles. I do not know why he changed his mind. I only know why he stopped working with Grindelwald.'' Harry tells Riddle, and Riddle is still listening, enraptured.
Knowing that this was something that could kill Dumbledore's reputation, Harry paused for effect. Riddel clearly knew there was more and settled comfortably in his chair.
''Aberforth, that's Dumbledore's brother; he has a bar in Hogsmeade, got into a fight with Dum- ugh, let's call him Albus now, but whatever, they got into a fight. Albus wanted to leave their home to travel with Grindelwald, mostly so they could bring their plans to fruition. But Aberforth wouldn't stand for it, claiming that Albus needed to stay to take care of Ariana together with Aberforth. Aberforth had already dropped out of Hogwarts so he could take care of his sister, but they would need money. The Dumbledore fortune wasn't vast enough to take care of them. So they needed the salary Albus could bring in because Albus would never agree to stay at home to take care of Ariana, and Aberforth knew this. But now Albus wanted to leave, and Ariana could not travel, not in her condition. So they got into a fight which quickly turned into a duel. Then Grindelwald entered the fight too, and then Ariana came into the room.''
Harry looked at Riddle, penetrating him with his gaze. ''Ariana died by a stray spell, then don't know who killed her, but Aberforth blames Albus, and Grindelwald ran. Albus and Grindelwald haven't seen each other since then. Albus feels guilty for what happened and 'punishes' himself by not leaving his childhood home and being a simple professor at Hogwarts. All the while, Grindelwald started their plans and made a name for himself as a Dark Lord. I never understood why people begged for years to Dumbledore to stop Grindelwald because nobody knew about their relationship. But Dumbledore is one of the most powerful and creative wizards alive, and while Grindelwald never finished his education at Durmstrang, he is powerful and very creative too. My guess is that Dumbledore taught him for a while after they met.''
''Why don't we use this story to bring him down?'' Riddle asked after a few moments of silence.
Harry sighed and rubbed his hand through his hair. ''Because he still has so much influence. He has taught for years and years, so many of his current and old students worship him. Some of them probably started working in the Ministry and would do anything to help the friendly and good teacher they had at Hogwarts. If this story comes out without Dumbledore losing influence beforehand, he will wipe it under the rug again with his connections. No, we need to think bigger and make Dumbledore fall harder.'' Harry said with conviction.
''You are terrifying.'' Riddle whispers. When Harry focuses on him, the man is looking away from him, and Harry frowns but puts it out of his head.
''But enough of that for now. We need to make sure that Dumbledore will be sacked. How will we do that if my plan is impossible, according to you?'' Harry snarked.
Riddle clenched his jaw as if holding himself back, which was curious to Harry. He had not expected Riddle to mince his words or not to lose his temper.
Then again, Harry has wiped the floor with Riddle while dueling the last few weeks.
But Riddle is getting better and better with the day, and Harry is also learning from him. They just need to find a way to keep training during their stay at Hogwarts. Maybe the Room of Requirement, or otherwise the Chamber, will be good enough for their vicious training.
Harry is confident that they can handle Grindelwald when the time comes.
''Simple, we make sure that he loses his clout in Hogwarts. Everyone knows Dumbledore is runner-up for Headmaster when Dipper retires. If we make sure he won't be supported by the students and the Board of Governors, he won't get as much influence there.''
''That's basically my idea,'' Harry deadpanned, utterly unimpressed.
Riddle rolls his eyes.
''You simpleton, you want to poison him to make him act different so he would lose his power, but I'm talking about getting a network up so vast and large, Dumbledore can't counter it.''
Harry sits up a bit in attention. ''How?''
''You already complimented me about my followers, and you already talked about expanding that. If we recruit the children with a parent on the Board, it will already be a step forward. Then we can focus on bringing Dumbledore down.''
Harry sighs. ''You are so fucking elusive. Just tell me how you think we will do that. How are you going to get more followers? How do you plan to convince the parents on the Board? Just tell me fucking how the hell you are planning to do that.''
''Tut-tut-tut, patience, Harrison darling, I'm still a Slytherin,'' Riddle replies with a smirk. He puts his chin on his hand and leans forward closer to Harry. Harry scrunches up his nose and leans back, wanting to put some distance between Riddle and himself.
''You forget one important thing, something nobody will expect.'' Riddle continues, and Harry hates how he's intrigued and lulled by the dulcet tones of Riddle's voice.
''And what is that?'' Harry questions warily.
''They will not be my followers. They will be ours.''
Harry's eyes grow wide before he barks out a laugh.
''Our followers? What are you planning, Riddle?''
Riddle seems a bit miffed by Harry's laughter, which only makes Harry grin broader.
''You are going to be sorted in Slytherin on September first-'' This Harry was already expecting, so he wasn't too put out. He could admit that he was pretty ambitious with his plans for the future. To make everything better by mostly getting his revenge on Dumbledore. ''-and you will make an impression, which results in me inviting you to the Knights of Walpurgis-'' There was a dramatic pause, and Harry raised his eyebrow. ''The Knights of what now?''
Riddle glares at Harry before deciding to ignore his interruption. ''Then you will show the Knights that you are not just there to be a follower while you earn respect, and then I will declare you my equal. Because of this, we will probably already get more followers because most students think I'm too -''
''Psychotic? Mad? A know-it-all? Dangerous?'' Harry helpfully chirps, grinning when Riddle's glare deepens.
''You are insufferable. When is our next training? I have a new spell I want to test.'' Riddle hisses.
''And you want to rule Slytherin together? Awh, Tom, I feel so flattered,'' Harry exclaims while putting the back of his hand on his forehead and fake swoons.
Riddle storms out of the room, and Harry just laughs.
They do prepare the rest of the plan after Riddle has cooled off, which Harry is loathed to admit, is a good plan.
Harry will be sorted into Slytherin, awe the Purebloods, and climb to the top of the hierarchy within Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Knowing that Hufflepuff and Gryffindor are firmly in Dumbledore's territory until they can make friends/followers there. Which probably won't be too hard. Harry is an ex-Gryffindor, and the Slytherin/Gryffindor feud isn't as nasty as in the future. Voldemort had ruined a lot for Slytherin.
Now it's already time to go back to Hogwarts, which fills Harry with excitement and dread.
The last time he saw the castle, it was in ruins because of the battle. And now.. Now he's going back like nothing is wrong, and he will be a student once again.
Harry was annoyed that he had to sit alone during the ride, but Riddle had a Prefect meeting and a Slug Club meeting, so Harry, who didn't know anyone else in this timeline, had taken a compartment for himself.
He had thought about cozying up to the other Slytherins but decided against it, knowing they would only follow Riddle's example and not decide for themselves if someone's good or bad or whatever.
Talking to anyone else could be social suicide for him when he was placed in Slytherin and had talked to a Muggle-born. So a compartment to himself it was.
Now he made his way quietly to the carriages, ignoring the curious looks he got from multiple other students.
One of the Thestrals made eye contact with him, and he smiled, making his way over to pet the horse-like creature.
''Look at that, a crazy mudblood petting the air. They truly do let anyone into Hogwarts nowadays, don't they?'' He heard someone sneer behind him. Harry turns to look at the boy incredulously.
''Seriously? Because you can't see them, I'm a crazy mudblood ? You're quite pathetic, aren't you? If this is your deduction without thinking shit through.'' He replied snidely, only to be met with a wand in his throat.
He could've evaded it, but he saw the Slytherin insigne and Riddle standing with the others of the Slytherins, so he was quite secure being threatened. He smirked at the boy in front of him, unable to place the face he saw.
''Nobody calls me pathetic and comes away with it.'' The boy hissed while pressing his wand further into Harry's throat.
''Seems like I just did,'' Harry said with a smirk.
He made eye contact with Riddle. Asking with his eyes if he was going to stand for this shit or do something.
But Riddle clenched his jaw and made his way inside the carriage, not looking back at what was happening. Harry gritted his teeth. Oh, he was pissed now.
He knows that Riddle can't seem like he already knows Harry, but this is ridiculous! Riddle is a Prefect. He should keep his snakes on a fucking leash.
He looks back to the asshole in front of him, who is smirking now. ''Did you think they would be of any help? I'm heir Mulciber. Nobody will even dare say a word against me, especially not because of a little crazy mudblood like yourself.''
Harry had quite enough. The Mulcibers weren't even that important in the Wizarding world, they had money, but not as much as the Blacks or Malfoys, and they didn't even have a Wizengamort seat. In his own time, they were still siding with Voldemort and got killed during the war. The Mulciber line had died out without any heir.
''Mulciber, mmh, doesn't ring a bell, must've missed them during the last Wizengamot meeting,'' He then materialized his lordship ring. Harry took quite some satisfaction from how the little shit paled. ''Oh, look at that, do you recognize the emblem of my house, Mulciber? Or shall I claim a feud between the Peverells and Mulcibers? I'm quite curious about how you will explain to your father that you clearly failed your Care of Magical Creatures OWL because of not knowing about Thestrals, the omen of death himself, the creature that can only be seen by people who have seen someone die by the way. Then you can also explain how you insulted a Lord of an Ancient and Noble house and pulled a wand on him during that same first meeting and didn't lower it after he made himself known.'' Harry spat the last part, wanting to blast the little shit into the lake, but he wasn't there to make enemies, well, not out of other Slytherins. He was cursing the plan right now. He would need to bunk with those entitled assholes for the rest of the year AND next! Why was he putting himself through this?
Mulciber quickly stepped away from him and put his wand down.
''I am truly sorry, Lord Peverell, I wasn't-''
''Thinking? That was quite clear. Now get out of my face before I curse you.'' Harry snapped, watching Mulciber quickly disappear into a carriage.
Harry gritted his teeth, but before he could make his way into another carriage, he was nudged by the Thestral he had been petting and chuckled.
''You know-'' He mused, ''Green may be my color, but I do love red.'' He said with a feral grin before petting the Thestral one last time and climbing into one of the carriages.
It may be pettiness, and Riddle probably couldn't interfere without looking weak in front of his followers, but Harry sure as hell would enjoy the chaos this would create.
Because Dumbledore being brought down by someone in his own house? Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the thought.
Thank you for reading the chapter!
I know it isn't as long as the last one, but I just knew that if I would continue, it would be soooooo long because I wouldn't want to split it.
So here we are!
Tom is a complete SIMP for Harry, and Harry is an oblivious bastard who still hates Tom with all he has!
And yes, the talk with Death is only referenced, Death will make a come-back in future chapters!
I hope you liked it! Please let me know!
xx MBlack93