Hey everyone! :) Sorry for the delay in updating, the holidays were crazy!

Thank you Guest and Rojmin for your awesome comments! Made me so happy! :)

"What…are you doing here, Wormtail?", he croaked, not knowing what to feel about meeting Pettigrew here, "you…you escaped?"

"Yes, Mylord- and you have as well as it seems", Peter was staring at him, "are you…forgive me for asking, Master, are you really…a child or…is this…an illusion?"

Tom did not need to think twice about his answer- he knew Pettigrew's respect for him would turn into contempt the second he found out he really was nothing but a boy- and even worse, he was a Squib now.

"It's an illusion, obviously", he scoffed at his servant, "were you looking for me?"

"I was, Mylord- every day, all day!", Pettigrew assured him, "I mostly…stayed in my animagus form, and I've heard rumors you…you were in London, so I never…left."

Faithful to the end.

"I've been taking care of some business here", he lied, "let's go, my place is down the street, not far from here. It's the perfect hiding spot."

Wormtail followed him obediently, seemingly impressed by how Tom had turned the neglected office into a home. He was not all impressed with Squirrel, which was mutual- the dog growled at him as soon as he entered the house.

"You…you have a dog, Mylord?", Peter stuttered, sweat forming on his forehead, "I…I personally don't really like…"

"Are you telling me you have a problem with my guard dog, Wormtail?", he kept his voice low, low and threatening, and Peter winced.

God, I missed this.

"No…no, Mylord, of course not, Mylord, he's a…a perfect guard dog!", Peter whined, and Tom snorted, "shut up, Wormtail. I need to think."

He had to come up with a plan- a plan about what to do with Pettigrew. He would run out of money eventually, and since they were so close to Downtown, he had already been thinking about finding some kind of employment there. He had to eat, and Squirrel had to eat, so unless he got a job or robbed a bank, they were going to end up hungry. If he had known he was going to take the dog with him, he would have stored more food to bring along- but it was what it was, and now he just had to deal with it.

The problem is- who will hire me? I am a kid.

The only options to even find a job where probably in some shady establishment where the owners did not give a fuck- which would expose him to all kinds of lawless people. He usually wouldn't mind, not caring much for law and order himself, but he was a child, and he was pretty defenseless right now.

If I can't find a job, that only leaves stealing.

He felt like he was above being an ordinary pickpocket, though- and if he was going to steal, he was going to go after more than a few bucks.

I just need…the right outfit, the right surroundings, the right…opportunity.

"I need a suit."

"Uhm…sorry, Mylord, I…"

"A suit, Wormtail", he repeated, his voice cold, "and you will get me one. Dark gray, with a green tie."

Peter stared at him, "yes…Mylord", it sounded like a question.

Tom sighed, deciding it could not hurt to tell Pettigrew parts of his plan- he was his only ally right now after all, "I am planning to acquire some money by attending a high society event, something like…"

"Like the…Retrospective?"

He frowned, "what the hell are you talking about?"

Peter flinched, "I…I apologize for interrupting you, Mylord", he whimpered, and Tom rolled his eyes, "get to the point, Wormtail."

"There…there's a Retrospective at the South London Gallery", Pettigrew hurried to explain, "I saw…advertisement for it, lots of it. It's in five days."

That wasn't much time to get prepared, but he'd never been one to back down from a challenge, "get me the suit- and all the information you can find about that Gallery", he demanded, "and about that Retrospective. I have a feeling it might just be the right place to start", he grinned to himself.

"Yes, Mylord."

Peter kept his word- what other choice did he have, anyway- and showed up the next day with a suit, and a bunch of newspapers and flyers. He was still able to perform magic, but since the Ministry would be able to hunt him down easily if he did, he was not using his wand anymore. The ability to transform himself into a rat was quite helpful, though- it did not expose him as much since he was able to stay as a rat until it was necessary to reveal himself.

Tom did not ask how Pettigrew had gotten the suit because he simply did not care. Wormtail had brought breakfast as well, which told him that the animagus had money hidden somewhere- he was going to get to that later, though.

He gave Squirrel his portion, and then he sat down at the table, spread out the newspapers that Peter had brought and began to read. The Retrospective seemed to be a big deal- with quite a long guest list.

Perfect- the more people attend, the easier it is for me to stay unnoticed.

There was going to be some kind of auction, too- for charity, meaning everyone would have their wallet ready to show how generous they were. Tickets for the Retrospective started at 700 pounds, but since he had never planned to walk in there the traditional way, he ignored that info.

Tom went on to study the map of the Gallery, keeping his focus mostly on the doors. He grinned when he realized that there was one small door leading to the kitchen that was a little farther away from everything else.

Perfect.

He read some more about the Retrospective, and the artist and designs- he liked to be prepared.

Eventually, he closed the newspaper he had been reading, and then he frowned, his gaze on the other newspaper, which had been hidden underneath. It was the Daily Prophet.

Divorce Finalized- Has Gryffindor Already Moved On?

For a few seconds, all he could do was stare at the front page, showing the moving picture of an annoyed looking Gryffindor trying to pass by a huge amount of reporters, with Rita Skeeter up front, waving a microphone.

It has been confirmed what the Wizarding World has been dreading- our Kings, Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor, have decided to end their marriage, sharing custody for their sixteen year old son Prince Aurelius, who declined to comment on his parent's break up. King Gryffindor has spent the last three weeks in Scotland, and it is still not known what exactly he has been doing there, but there have been rumors that he has already moved out of Gryffindor Manor, the Kings' main location next to Slytherin Castle and Gryffindor Mansion. While this is a sad day for the Wizarding World, let us all hope that our Kings will find their way back to each other and their love.

Tom swallowed hard, suddenly not hungry anymore. They'd really done it- they had gotten a divorce, and from the looks of it, Gryffindor had moved out of their Manor already.

You destroyed my family, Thomas.

He closed the newspaper, more than grateful for the fact that neither Aurelius nor Gryffindor knew where he was right now- he had a feeling Aurelius would like nothing more at the moment than to get the whip out again.

Hurry, boy- you've wasted enough of my time already.

You caused my parents and myself a great amount of suffering, and I will never forgive you for that.

Who knew you could beg so nicely, Thomas?

He stood up, bile rising in his throat. He had not thought of Aurelius in three long weeks- but now, thanks to the damn newspaper that Pettigrew had to bring along, the memory of one of the worst nights of his life came crashing down again.

He went outside, not bothering to explain himself to Wormtail, and then he took some deep breaths, inhaling the cool fall air of October that always smelled a little like wet leaves and freshly cut grass.

I have to focus. Focus and forget.

He'd never see Aurelius or Slytherin or Gryffindor ever again- so there was no reason to still think about any of this mess. He had a responsibility now for Squirrel, and for Wormtail in a way as well, and he needed some fucking money.

"Mylord?", Peter sounded like he expected a Crucio at any second now, and how he wished he could fulfill that expectation- torturing Wormtail always helped him to make him feel better.

"I have a plan for the Retrospective- how to get inside", he replied, his voice flat, "here's what we are going to do…", he told Pettigrew in detail what the plan was, and Wormtail listened attentively, terrified to make a mistake during their heist.

Time to sleep, Sirius.

The boy sighed, not really wanting to go to bed yet and clear his mind, but he also did not want to disobey Aurelius.

It's not even eight yet.

It will be once you have brushed your teeth and put on your pajamas, boy.

You always need to have the last word, do you?

He rolled his eyes when Aurelius did not respond.

You mad now?

No, I am not mad- I just did not realize you wanted an answer to that question. I thought the question was rhetorical.

I don't ask rhetorical questions, just normal questions.

He was in the bathroom now, hastily brushing his teeth, and he could hear Aurelius laugh inside his mind.

Very well then- here's a normal question for you. How was your day?

Sirius smiled, bending over the sink to spit out the toothpaste. Aurelius had started to ask him about his day every night when they talked, and he did not want to admit how much he liked that.

It was okay I guess. I didn't get angry in Potions, and Dennis shared a chocolate frog with me after lunch.

What about homework?

It's all done.

Good boy.

He felt his face heating up at the praise, and since he did not want Aurelius to know how much he loved being called a good boy, he decided to change the topic.

How was your day?

Busy as always- I am taking a new class at Seymour's College about legal contracts, and I've been helping my father to furnish his new apartment.

He moved out?

Yes, a couple days ago.

Sirius was dying to know how Aurelius felt about that, but they did not have that type of a relationship, and most likely they never would. Aurelius was not one to openly share his feelings- he wasn't called the Ice Prince for nothing.

I also attended two more pre-trial meetings for the Death Eaters, which were quite interesting from a legal point of view.

It looked like Aurelius was not interested in talking about his family's situation any further- not that it surprised him.

That sounds…nice.

You don't have to pretend with me, boy- now, are you in bed?

Yah.

Clear your mind, Sirius.

Do I get a story if I do?

A story?

Aurelius sounded somewhat hesitant, and Sirius bit his lips, cursing at himself for blurting this out. He and some of his friends had watched Jake at practice yesterday, and Graham, his older brother had been there to pick him up- and Sirius had overheard Jake asking for a story at night, something about…dragons.

Like…you just…tell me something. A story.

There was a silence.

I have the Daily Prophet right here- I was actually just reading a rather fascinating story about which stocks to invest in next month.

Uhm…okay.

My stocks have done well so far- it is all about buying and selling at the right time, Sirius.

And then Aurelius went on to explain to him which stocks he had invested in and why, and that his share of the Three Broomsticks was doing exceptionally well, and Sirius cleared his mind, listening quietly. It wasn't the story he had wanted, but it was still better than nothing. He fell asleep during Aurelius' claim that the Daily Prophet's stock would never do well as long as they let dimwits like Rita Skeeter write for them, and when he dreamed that night, he had dreams of buying a stock for Honeydukes, making it profitable by buying most of the candy himself.

It was a rather nice dream, and he was in a good mood when he woke up the next day. His good mood lasted until McGonagall announced that they were going to take a test, and once he saw the questions, he knew he would do badly.

Unless…

Aurelius?

Another homework question, pumpkin boy?

He grinned, this was going better than expected.

A few, actually.

Sirius did not feel guilty about reading Aurelius the test questions, he only regretted not thinking about this earlier- Snape would have lost it if he had turned in a perfectly written exam, and he definitely had to try this out for Snape next.

That's a lot of homework you got there, boy.

It's prep for a test.

I see- well, for the first question, the difference is that …

And then Aurelius patiently explained every answer to him, and Sirius wrote them down without thinking twice. Aurelius was brilliant- and he knew this would be his first Outstanding in Transfiguration, and he did not even had to do any work for it! His mood improved drastically after lessons were done for the day, and not even seeing Graham pull Jake into a hug after lunch, letting him snuggle, could ruin his mood this time.

The next night, they had another pillow fight, and when Aurelius told him in what time to clear his mind, he decided to lie yet again, annoyed by getting his fun interrupted.

I already cleared my mind.

Did you, now?

Yeah.

Is your homework done as well?

Yeah, all done.

He waited for Aurelius to call him a good boy again for that, but he didn't- instead, he told him something that instantly made him tense.

I am going to be in Hogwarts in two days for a meeting with Dumbledore- and to see you.

For…training?

No, not for training- you are still not ready for that, boy. We'll do something else.

Something fun?

He could hear Aurelius laugh again, the sound of it amused.

Did you get that homework back I helped you with yesterday?

Sirius blinked, not understanding the sudden change of topic.

Nah- I'll get it back tomorrow I think.

Well, let me know if my help was…sufficient.

There was something in Aurelius' tone now that Sirius could not identify- something…strange.

Okay. Pretty sure it's perfect.

They kept talking some more about this and that, but the weird feeling that something was off never left Sirius- and when McGonagall did return their tests the next day, he could hear his heart beating inside his chest.

Dreadful.

For several seconds, all Sirius could do was stare in shock at his grade- this wasn't possible, how in the world…had McGonagall realized he had cheated? But how?

This makes no sense.

"You seemed to have studied the wrong spell there, Mr. Lemarc", McGonagall now said, seeing the shock on his face, "your answers are quite brilliant- for another spell, unfortunately."

Sirius swallowed hard, hadn't he told Aurelius what spell this was about? Of course he had- and he had read the questions to him, so there was no way…

That's a lot of homework you got there, boy.

Did you get that homework back I helped you with yesterday?

Well, let me know if my help was…sufficient.

And then he groaned quietly, hiding his face in his hands. This wasn't good- this wasn't good at all. Aurelius had realized he was playing him, and of course he had turned the tables- why, why would he think he could ever outsmart Aurelius?

I am going to be in Hogwarts in two days for a meeting with Dumbledore- and to see you.

He barely listened to McGonagall dismissing them, he just grabbed his stuff and stormed out the room, dread forming in his stomach. Aurelius was terrifying when he was angry- and he hated disobedience more than anything else.

Sirius had ran straight back to his dorm, knowing it would be empty. He threw himself on his bed, his whole body trembling, and then he broke into desperate, frantic sobs.

Crying, naughty boy?

I…I am sorry! I'm sorry!

Sounds like someone got his homework back.

The way he said homework now told Sirius everything he needed to know- and his sobs got louder.

I…I just...I had no idea, and…McGonagall just started to like me again, and…

Don't worry- you will have enough time to explain yourself to me tomorrow, Sirius.

What…what you gonna do to me?

Discipline you- not only for lying to me and using me to cheat, but also for being lazy and deceitful in class. Oh, and for lying to me when I asked if you had cleared your mind last night.

I didn't mean to! I swear, we were just…having fun, and…and…I didn't want to stop…

Well, I can only hope your fun was worth the spanking you will get, naughty boy.

Span…king?

I told you I'd discipline you, didn't I?

But…not…not like that! I don't want a spanking!

Keep backtalking, boy- and I'll make it two spankings.

Sirius started to cry, Aurelius sounded furious now, and he knew he was on very thin ice right now.

Please, I'm sorry, Relius, I'm so sorry!

Oh you will be- after I am done with you tomorrow, you will never even dare to think to disobey me like this ever again. Now get up, go wash your face and start your homework- and you will redo the test obviously, I am going to check it tomorrow. One wrong answer there, boy, and you won't be able to sit for a week, do you understand me?

Ye…yes, Aurelius.

Good. Go do your work now- I'll see you tomorrow.

No mention of talking to him that night, causing Sirius to burst into tears again. He'd messed up- he had messed everything up…

They spend the next days going over the plan several times, and Tom studied the little brochure about the artist and his work explicitly. At first, he had told himself it was nothing but a distraction, and that it was better to know everything he could about that exhibition, but the more often he read about the paintings and sculptures, the more intrigued he got. He had even made Peter get him some pencils and paper, and when Pettigrew left one evening- he never stayed the night, he used the nights to roam around as a rat and eat as much trash as he could find- Tom found himself taking the paper and a pencil and carefully copying one of the paintings from the brochure, and he was so engrossed in his work that he did not even realize he was smiling.

I can't wait to see this one for real.

He froze, cursing, where the fuck had that thought come from?

Focus, goddamnit! Focus!

He crumbled the paper into a ball, throwing it towards the door, and Squirrel went after it with a happy little bark, making quick work of his stupid attempt to dawdle away his time.

I could really need a drink now.

He did not have a drink that night for obvious reasons, he just went to bed after he had taken Squirrel out one last time. The dog was quite happy with his new surroundings, and he spend lots of time in their small front yard, barking at the squirrels up on the trees.

Tom refused to allow himself to even come near the brochure again, and when it was finally the night of the Retrospective, he forced himself to only think of the wallets, watches, and jewelry he was going to steal- but certainly not how awesome it would be to actually see the art.

"Ready, Wormtail?"

"Yes, Mylord."

It was shortly after six, and the event would start at seven. It would take them a while to get there, though, since they had to walk- or better, he was going to walk, with Peter in rat form hiding in his pocket. Squirrel had been fed dinner and taken out to do his business, and Tom had made sure his water bowl was full and that he had a snack for later. He took his responsibility for the dog quite seriously, having grown very fond of the animal.

Tom looked quite dapper in his dark gray suit with the green tie, and it made him feel good, too. He was tired of looking like some dumb kid, some nobody- when he was, in fact, the Dark Lord.

He put on his warm jacket since it had gotten colder, and then he carefully locked the door behind Squirrel, hid Peter in his coat, and started to walk.

It wasn't raining for once, but the air had gotten a little frosty, and he was glad for the thick coat he was wearing. It was a nice one, too- literally the only thing he was grateful to Patty and Mike about.

Tom made sure to keep his eyes lowered to the ground, not wanting to attract any attention. He had spent some time figuring out the best way to get there, using mostly streets that were side streets and had less traffic than the main roads.

Unseen, they got close to the small door that led to the kitchen, and Tom put Peter down, "you know what you have to do!", he hissed at the rat, and Wormtail instantly took off. There were guards nearby, but thankfully, they were not looking in his direction right now.

Tom watched from afar how Pettigrew ran towards the door, getting as close as he could.

They did not had to wait long until someone opened it from the inside, one of the kitchen helper's by the looks of it, carrying two heavy trash bags.

It was easy for Peter to slip inside, and Tom had to grin.

Now comes the best part.

While the kitchen boy was busy taking the trash away, Tom hurried towards the door. He quietly knocked, and seconds later, the door opened.

Peter was still a rat, he had simply jumped down on the doorknob, and Tom quickly to put him back in his pocket.

"Trash gone, Edmund?", someone hollered from the kitchen, and Tom stiffened, "yeah", he replied, trying his best to sound nonchalant. There was a ton of noise coming from the kitchen to the right side of the dim hallway, and Tom did not waste any time to hurry past it. Everyone there was in a haste to get everything ready, so no one bothered to check if Edmund had really come back. They all had work to do.

Tom quickly made his way upstairs and found the bathrooms, where he was going to hide until he could be certain the main areas were all filled with people.

"Go back and make sure Squirrel is okay", he instructed Peter in a low voice, "once you get out the window here, make a left, and you are back at the entrance", he opened a small window, too small for him, but small enough for a rat, "see you later!"

Peter took off, and now all Tom had to do was wait. And wait…

The noise got louder and louder, and eventually, he felt brave enough to open the door to his bathroom stall, carrying his coat in his arms. He had barely left the bathroom when a waiter came rushing in his direction, "please, may I?", he was already reaching for his coat, and Tom had an idea that he'd never see it again.

The price I have to pay- being cold.

He nodded curtly, instantly falling back into the role of the arrogant Lord who everyone bowed down to, and the waiter gracefully disappeared, holding his coat like it was the crown jewels.

Damn, lots of people here- this is huge.

The Gallery was quite spacious indeed, and there were plenty of fancy dressed men and women talking and laughing around him, most of them holding a champagne glass in their hands while they were walking slowly across the hall, critically examining the art work on the walls.

He noticed with some relief that he was not the only kid around- there were some teenagers he spotted, most of them looking bored to death.

Soft classic music was playing in the background when he made his way through the foyer, and no one sent him another glance. He fit in here, he fit in perfectly.

"You can see beautifully over here how Romanov has started to gravitate from being an introverted naturalist towards becoming a more socially critical conceptualist", he could overhear a woman say, "the change is visible in his choice of colors as well- while Romanov used to prefer light viridescent tones, he has now shifted to a darker magenta and crimson foundation, enhancing the sociological message of his work."

Tom could not help but feel intrigued- it was like the woman was speaking a foreign language, a language he had never been allowed to learn before. It was a whole new experience- in a good way. He could see the change in colors clearly, now that he knew what he was looking for, and he kept listening, absorbing every word the woman- who turned out to be the Gallery's curator- was saying.

"And here we have one of his newer designs- Romanov used alabaster to create this sculpture, which is a popular material to be used for sculpturing, since its softness enables it to be carved quite easily into elaborate forms."

That's really cool.

Tom studied the sculpture intently, fascinated by how expressive and real the woman looked. The sculpture only showed her face, and it felt like she was staring right at him, her face an expression of despair, sorrow, and some underlying hardness.

"It is called Awakening", the curator now explained, "it is part of Romanov's series of facial expressions. Please follow me to the next room to take a look at his other sculptural work- and please have your card ready that has been given to you earlier."

Okay, I'm out.

These people were clearly part of some tour, probably because they were potential buyers, and since he did not have a card- he did not even have an invitation- he decided to move on. He was here to make money after all, not to keep studying the art work, as fascinating as that was.

Focus- you're here to work!

Before he was able to pick his first victim, though, his stomach grumbled- and the smell in the air got more and more captivating.

Damn, this smells good.

He got hungrier by the second, so he decided it was best to eat something first. He could not think clearly with an empty stomach anyways.

The buffet was huge, and everything was free of course- even the alcohol.

Getting more and more confident, he went and filled his plate with all the things he had not had since the fateful day of the attack- lobster bites, filet mignon, fresh asparagus, truffles…

This is gonna be delicious!

He found a remote spot to eat in the huge dining hall part of the Gallery that had been set up, and then he happily dug in, not leaving even one crumb.

Now, maybe some dessert?

He stood up again, walking back to the buffet- and that's when he saw it. Or better, when he saw him.

Godric Gryffindor, sitting at a small table with another man, another man that was definitely not Salazar Slytherin, talking and smiling at the guy.

Moving on, indeed.

Running into Gryffindor here was a nuisance- he had not even started to do his work, but he knew it would be suicide to stay at the same place as Gryffindor.

Of course he has to be here ruining everything again.

"Excuse me."

He flinched, coming face to face with a stern looking woman dressed in a black jumpsuit, her pale gray eyes sparkling at him with suspicion.

"Uhm…yes?"

"I do not recall having seen you here before- what is your name? Are you here with your parents?"

Fuck. Me.

Of course they would have some kind of guard dog inside checking on the guests- this event was every pickpocket's dream come true after all.

"Yes, I am here with…with my…", he started to sweat, "with my father. He's right…over there", he made a vague gesture in the directions of some tables, hoping it would calm her down, but she had been in the business too long for those kind of games.

"Well, let's not keep your father waiting then", she pinched her lips, "which table is he sitting at?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

She was already reaching for some Muggle tool that looked like a small radio, and he knew this would end badly if he…if he didn't…

"He's at the second table from the left", he choked out, not quite believing himself he was actually doing this- Gryffindor would murder him, "I…I show you", he led her straight to Gryffindor's table, and then he stopped right in front of it, taking a deep- and probably his last- breath, "uhm…hi, Dad."

I'm dead.

yeah this is probably the worst cliffhanger in this story...sorry ;)

there will be lots of Tom/ Gryff in the next chap! :)

I'd love some feedback, thank you all for reading!

xoxo,

Antonie :)