Monday, 5th July

There was a roar of green flames in the fireplace of Tom's study and he glanced up, disinterested, as Alastor Moody stepped into the room.

"My lord". He gave a deferential bow, made somewhat difficult by the wooden leg, heavy overcoat, and large trunk he was holding in his hands.

Tom smiled.

"Barty" he greeted, standing up, "All went well, I presume?"

"Yes, my lord. Dumbledore does not suspect a thing. I finished the school term as you requested and took the train back to King's Cross station, returning to Moody's house where I then Floo'ed your office. Everything went as planned".

"Excellent. You have done well, my friend. When does the Polyjuice potion wear off?"

"Any moment now, my lord".

"Then please, take a seat". Tom gestured at one of the two armchairs in front of the fireplace as he approached to take the trunk from him. "And the real Moody is-?"

"Still stunned and under the Imperius, my lord".

"Perfect".

The old man collapsed down in the chair and, just as he'd predicted, his face started to change. The scars disappeared, the skin smoothened, the mangled nose became whole and started to shrink. The long mane of grizzled grey hair was withdrawing into the scalp and turning the colour of straw. Suddenly, with a loud clunk, the wooden leg fell away as a normal leg regrew in its place. In the next moment, the magical eyeball popped out of the man's face as a real eye replaced it and Barty caught the appendage with all the reflexes of a Quidditch player.

Moody's clothes now positively swamped his shorter, skinnier frame, although Tom was pleased to note that the boy was far healthier looking than he had been all those months before. Winky, of course, had been secretly visiting him at Hogwarts to provide the necessary healing potions needed for him to regain his strength after ten years of being unable to consciously move. Now, almost an entire year later, his pale skin had turned a healthier colour, his hair had lengthened with his natural golden-red curls returning, and he'd even gained a handful of more freckles.

Tom was… happy to see it.

"Do you wish for my memories now, my lord?"

"Yes, but not here. I've set up the pensieve in one of the drawing rooms downstairs" he replied, "I'll bring Moody's trunk if you bring his various… prosthetics".

"Of course, my lord".

Barty quickly picked up the wooden leg, the magical eye in the other hand, and followed him out of his study, down the stairs, and through the manor. He knew that Randolph and Theodore were lurking around here somewhere, but Tom had been busy all morning, replying to letters from various correspondences - both new and old, as Lord Slytherin and Lord Voldemort - and explicitly writing out in great detail just what he would do to Lucius Malfoy should he not succeed at arranging a meeting for him with Severus Snape.

It had been quite an entertaining day so far.

Entering the drawing room, which he had completely gutted, redesigned, and converted after moving in, he nodded towards the Pensieve in the centre of the room as he unceremoniously dropped the heavy trunk on the ground inside the door and hauled it open.

Inside lay the real Alastor Moody, and Tom wasted no time in levitating his unconscious form out of the trunk and onto the settee couch next to him. And then, just for good measure, he stunned the man once more. Across from him, curled up in one of the armchairs, Nagini hissed a greeting, but it was clear that she was already half-asleep from the flames in front of her.

"My memories, my lord".

Turning, he found the Pensieve now full of swirling blue light with a silver vapour rising like mist. The plan, of course, was to successfully transplant these memories into Moody's head in such a way that the Auror would genuinely believe that he had taught at Hogwarts for the previous year - It wasn't going to be an easy task, that was for certain, but it was a necessary one.

"Thank you, Barty, you may go".

With another bow, the boy nodded and left, leaving the various prosthetics, as well as Moody's coat, next to the old man's unconscious body. Tom turned back to the memories he'd left behind. It was time to get to work.

Twenty minutes later, Tom still stood over the shimmering pensieve, its silvery tendrils swirling lazily beneath his gaze as he ever-so-subtly altered Barty's memories from the school year in its depths. His fingers twitched, carefully manipulating the magic with a precision that left even him, with all his innate power and learned abilities, fatigued.

Memory transference, especially of such complexity, required delicate control and immense concentration. The longer he worked, the more he felt the strain - deep, gnawing exhaustion tugging at the edges of his mind.

He gritted his teeth. He would not allow weakness, not now. Not ever.

The crackle of magic faltered for a moment. Tom cursed inwardly, ignoring the cold bead of sweat forming on his brow. The spells were taking longer than anticipated and he had, as he was now starting to realise, thoroughly underestimated the toll it would take.

Behind him came a low groan.

Tom's heart stuttered in fear for the briefest instant but then turned to irritation. Spinning around, he found Moody stirring on the couch, his body shifting.

"Impossible" he whispered, his eyes narrowing on the Auror. His stunning spell had been cast with enough force to keep Moody down for hours. No one should be able to recover from it this quickly.

Unless...

Constant vigilance. Moody's motto rang like a bitter echo in Tom's head. That damned Auror paranoia. The bloody bastard had probably trained himself to come out of a Stupefy more easily than anyone else. He cursed himself for not adding a full Body-Bind curse and quickly searched the room for his wand.

Moody's breathing became heavier, more laboured, and then his body jerked upright as if electrocuted. Before Tom could react, the old man had lashed out.

A blast of raw, uncontrolled magic erupted from him, fueled by panic and fury. The room trembled with the shockwave and the force of it sent Tom flying backwards and crashing into the stone wall.

Snarling, he pushed himself up with a furious glare. Pain lanced through his back and shoulders, but it was the wound to his pride that stung the most. A quick glance to the side reassured him that Nagini was still safe and well, having been sheltered by the armchair she was curled up on. Now where the bloody hell was his-

There!

He lunged for the side table next to the Pensieve. The blast of magic had knocked it over but amongst the papers and broken glass, he could see the deep, rich caramel colour of his wand. Picking it up, he spun back around just in time to see Moody, now fully awake, staggering to his one remaining foot, his heavy frame looming, his wand aimed squarely at Tom.

Barty had left him his wand?!

Tom's grip on his own wand tightened. The Auror's instincts were as lethal as ever despite his months of confinement and he was baring his teeth at him in pure hatred.

"You!" Moody spat, voice hoarse from disuse, "Slytherin. I should've known".

Tom, still shaking off the man's earlier attack, rose slowly to his feet, his lips curled in disdain.

"That's Lord Slytherin to you, Alastor".

Without another word, Moody struck again. A bright jet of red light shot from his wand - a Stunning spell, how quaint - but Tom was quicker, dodging to the side and flicking his wrist and-

"Expulso!"

Moody ducked just in time, and the wall behind him exploded into shards of stone. Dust filled the room as the debris clattered to the floor, but Moody didn't falter. His movements were fast, instinctive despite missing his wooden leg - a lifetime of Auror training guiding him even in his weakened state. A second spell - Locomotor Mortis, that's cute - tore through the air, aimed at Tom's chest. This time, he raised a shield, the blast ricocheting off harmlessly.

But Moody wasn't finished.

He fired curse after curse, moving as best he could, drawing upon decades of hard-fought experience in battle. His face was a mask of fierce determination, his wand never pausing for long.

"Protego Maxima!" Tom bellowed, a shimmering barrier materialising around him.

He watched with amusement as Moody's curses splintered against it like raindrops on glass. It would be such a shame to have to break his no-killing streak for this man - he'd been doing so well!

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Tom rolled his eyes, adrenaline pumping through his veins, his mouth curled up with cruel delight.

"First-year spells? Really? You're a relic, Alastor! A pathetic shadow of what you once were!"

But Moody, panting, didn't stop, firing another volley of spells in his direction.

"I've taken down stronger wizards than you, boy! Confringo!"

The Blasting curse broke through his shield, whizzing past his ear, close enough to make him flinch. Tom couldn't help but grin.

"Now that's more like it. Sectumsempra!"

"Protego Duo! Diffindo!"

The red spell shot towards him. Tom spun to avoid it but slipped on the loose pages scattered across the floor. He felt the hex slice into his shoulder and he dropped his wand with a curse, clutching at his arm to stem the blood flow. A second Cutting spell followed, this one catching the side of his face, and he dropped to the floor with a snarl, his vision half blinded by red, reaching for his wand with one hand while the other rose and "Impedimenta!"

Casting wandlessly limited his arsenal of spells, but the curse slowed Moody down long enough for him to grab his wand again. His patience was starting to wear thin now - and maintaining his no-murder streak wasn't worth his life. With a quick flick of his wand, he disarmed a nearby suit of armour, sending the heavy, gleaming plates flying toward Moody. The Auror deflected them with a grunt, but the distraction gave Tom the opening he needed.

"Enough of this" he hissed and with a sharp twist of his wrist, he sent a blinding flash of green light toward Moody, aiming to end the duel in one clean strike, "Avada Kedavra!"

Moody, always watching, always prepared, dove sideways at the last possible moment. The curse only barely grazed past him but at least the force of the nearby magic knocked him to the ground.

Stumbling to his feet, Tom prowled towards him, beyond irritated that this- this- this bloody bastard had not only interrupted his work, put his snake's life at risk, and destroyed his drawing room but he also destroyed his shirt and potentially left a scar. He couldn't afford to be scarred - he needed this face to charm Wizengamot!

Moody had dragged himself up to his hands and knees, his movements sluggish now, his wand hand trembling. He was weakening, the adrenaline rush fading and his reflexes with it. Every spell he fired lacked the strength it once had. Tom could see it, could feel it. The duel was coming to an end.

"You're… You're him, aren't you?" Moody gasped, clearly caught for breath, "Albus told me… warned me… I didn't want to… to believe him…"

"Of course you didn't" Tom replied pleasantly, crouching down in front of the Auror, using his good shirt sleeve to wipe the blood from his right eye, "No one wants to believe that Lord Voldemort is back, do they?"

To the old man's credit, he didn't flinch at the name. His breaths came in ragged gasps and yet even now, with his body battered and his magic drained, he raised his wand, still trying to fight. Tom's irritation was replaced by a flicker of amusement and he straightened back up, curious to see what the old man would do. Moody's hand was trembling more noticeably now as he tried to aim his wand at the younger man's chest, but it was clear that what little burst of energy he had was now long gone.

"You've lost, Alastor" he said, his voice soft and almost kind, "But I admire your perseverance… You would've made a good Death Eater".

"Never" he gasped, shaking his head, the one arm supporting him starting to shake dangerously, threatening to give out, "Never!"

"Hmm... Fair enough, I suppose".

Tom reholstered his wand, staring down at the man, wondering what to do with him. The temptation to kill him was strong - this was the Auror responsible for the imprisonment of half of his followers, after all, not to mind the murderer of Evan Rosier, the son of one of Tom's original Inner Circle members who had soon after committed suicide because of his only child's death.

He didn't deserve to live.

And yet-

It would look suspicious if he died now, especially after so clearly being involved in some sort of duel. It would be easier and cleaner to kill him but in the long run… No. He would stick to his original plan.

Tom glanced over his shoulder to where the Pensieve still stood, the memories inside it thankfully unharmed by the fight, so perhaps he could still Obliviate the man and-

And that was when Alastor Moody struck.

The flicker of movement - Moody's wand raising, his eyes narrowing, his lips forming the words - had him jerking back around but-

There wasn't time.

Tom's hand went to his wand, but his muscles felt sluggish, his injuries and exhaustion dragging him down. His fingers fumbled against the leather of his holster, slipping once in the hot, red blood, then twice and then-

"Avada-"

A flash of green burned the tip of Moody's wand. Tom's breath caught in his throat. He braced himself. And then-

Nagini.

With a hiss that reverberated through the room like a bolt of lightning, Nagini lunged, her massive body coiling and striking in the same heartbeat.

The Auror's focus had been entirely on Tom; he never saw the snake coming.

Moody's one good eye darted to the side, sensing the danger too late. He tried to jerk his wand toward her, but his hand was shaking, his reflexes dulled by exhaustion. His wand arm shook as he forced the words out, trying to conjure a spell, one spell, any spell - anything to stop his imminent demise.

But Nagini was faster.

With terrifying speed, she pounced, fangs bared, and in one swift, fluid motion, she sank them deep into Moody's wand arm. The sound that escaped him was more a guttural growl than a scream, but the pain was clear, raw. His wand clattered from his hand, his body jerking violently as he tried and failed to pry the snake from his arm. His face contorted in agony. His movements were frantic now, desperate. His limbs shook uncontrollably, his legs buckling beneath him as he started to foam at the mouth and his eyes bulged and his entire body seized and-

How… curious.

Tom took a slow deep breath. He stood there for a moment, watching, his hand still resting on his holster, his fingers too slick with blood to find purchase.

"Nagini" he said softly.

The snake uncoiled from Moody's arm, her eyes gleaming as she slithered back to her master's side, her tongue flickering, her teeth red. She began the slow, heavy climb up his legs and around his chest, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. Tom reached up, absentmindedly stroking her scaled body as he watched Moody die.

The Auror's chest rose and fell with heavy, laboured breaths as he choked on blood-tinted foam. The rage that had once fueled him was fading, replaced by something far more primal - Fear.

"B-Bastard" he slurred, trying to form words, but it seemed as if some form of paralysis was setting in. His mouth twitched, but his jaw couldn't quite move anymore. Tom tilted his head as he studied the dying man, not regretting his death, but regretting the loss of such a powerful wizard.

"You fought well, Alastor" he said quietly, "I'll give you that… But you should have known that there is no one who can stand against me and win. Not even you".

Moody's breathing became shallow, his one good eye glazing over as his body finally succumbed, seizing one more time before he-

Stilled.

Tom stood there panting, his chest heaving, his entire body aching as he stared at the corpse in confusion.

Nagini had bit him in the arm, but given that he had never noticed the fact that she had fangs before now, they had to be relatively short which meant that she hadn't bitten Moody deep enough to puncture an artery or two, which meant that it wasn't blood loss that had killed him, but…

He gave Nagini a side-eyed look. "Are you venomousss?"

"Venomousss?"

"Dangerousss" he tried to explain, "Your teeth can… kill? If you want them to?"

She stared at him for one long moment, her tongue still, eyes unblinking, face red.

"... Do yoursss not?"

And despite everything, he couldn't help but laugh.

That was how his most trusted found him not three minutes later - bleeding and laughing with red-stained teeth above the cooling body of the most feared Auror to ever live.

"Tom! What the- Oh Merlin, are you alright?!" Theodore exclaimed, taking long strides towards him, "Are you injured?! What happened?! We heard-"

"I'm fine" he interrupted, running the back of his hand over his forehead, unknowingly smearing blood across half of his face, "Nagini killed him".

Randolph pulled up short, blinked, and then turned to the snake with newfound respect.

"When did she last eat?"

"Humans give her indigestion".

Randolph shot him a dark look. "I wasn't suggesting that she eat the bloody body, Tom! I wanted to reward her with a rabbit!"

"She deserves more than a rabbit" Theodore countered, "How about a small pig?"

"She prefers wild boar" he replied casually, still catching his breath, "She'll eat it if you conjure her one. She's usually hungry".

Behind them, Quirrell squeaked in fear. Randolph pulled out his wand and did just that, and Nagini immediately reared up, her admittedly very short fangs glistening with her previous victim's blood, before pausing and turning her green eyes to face Tom. He nodded, once, and with a squeal, the boar took off through the open door and down the corridor with the snake in fast pursuit.

"You have her well trained" Theodore remarked, "What species did you say she was?"

"I didn't" he replied dryly, finally stepping away from Moody to lean back heavily against an armchair as the adrenaline started to fade, "She's… not exactly your typical snake, is she?"

"I'll say" he commented, crouching down next to the corpse, careful not to let the hem of his suit dip into the pooling blood, "She's venomous?"

"Apparently. He caught me unaware, had his wand on me, so she bit him. Three seconds later he was on the ground foaming at the mouth, and three seconds after that, he was dead… Salazar, I was a bloody fool!"

Randolph gave him a wry smirk. "Can I get that in writing?"

He snarled at him, an image made even more feral than usual by the blood now staining his teeth, and Barty had to quickly guide Quirrell to the nearest chair as his legs gave way in fright.

"He fought the stunner. It should've kept him out for another half hour at least!"

"He was a paranoid old bastard and an Auror to boot" Randolph corrected, "I'm not surprised he built up some sort of resistance to them".

Theodore nodded in agreement.

"We were the fools for leaving you alone with him when your concentration was obviously elsewhere". He frowned at the still-intact Pensieve and at the silvery-blue memories swirling in its depths. "Onto plan B then?"

"W-What's plan B?" Quirrell stammered, and Tom sighed, still irritated with himself, before ignoring the man's question and turning to face Barty instead. He was glad to see that the boy had found some properly fitting clothes - it made him look even healthier than before.

"How do you feel about retaking some of that Polyjuice potion?"

"If that is what my lord wishes" he replied immediately, his pale eyes intense and focused.

Tom couldn't help but smile, pleased by the response, even as he turned back to Theodore. "Do we have any left?"

"We have enough for this" he answered carefully, "But what do you plan to do with the body?"

"Transfigure it and then bury it somewhere it'll never be found" he said, "Once I've got my breath back".

"Do you need a healer?"

"No".

Randolph narrowed his eyes at him in suspicion. "Do you really not need one or are you just saying that?"

"Do you still remember how to cast Vulnera Sanentur?"

"Yes".

"Then no. I don't need a healer; you'll do".

"Oh, I will, will I?"

Keeping one hand on the armchair, Tom made his way around it to sit down properly as everything started to catch up with him. Pain seared through his right side and his shoulder was still bleeding, as was the cut across his cheek from Moody's second diffindo. He was also still exhausted from altering the memories - a waste of his damn energy now of course - and it took a lot out of anyone to cast the Killing curse, even if it didn't hit its target. Still, he supposed, he'd gotten off pretty lightly all things considered. If it hadn't been for Nagini…

As if on cue, they heard a loud squeal as she no doubt caught her newest prey, and across from him, Quirrell paled dramatically and swayed in his seat. Scowling, Tom waved a hand in his general direction as he turned back to Barty.

"Go… fix him before he passes out".

"Yes, my lord". One respectful bow later, and the straw-haired man was hauling Quirinus out of his chair and towards the door, shutting it behind them.

Randolph waved his wand at the coffee table to fix it before sitting on its edge directly in front of him, reaching up to tilt the injured side of his face to the light.

He'd once considered a career as a healer, Tom knew, and even completed the training for it too - but his father had adamantly refused to have the future Marquess of Norfolk do something as plebeian as work.

"You've found yourself a good boy there" Theodore commented lightly, taking a seat on the couch, his legs crossed elegantly, "Very loyal".

"What can I say? I inspire greatness" he replied blandly before promptly wincing as Randolph cast a spell to clean the wound.

"Not many would agree to take Polyjuice for eleven months without even knowing why it was necessary".

"You want me to tell him that the items he retrieved were parts of my soul?"

"No. I want you to cut him free, if only partially. That boy has suffered under one master for long enough". Theodore's honey-brown eyes were piercing. "Don't you think he deserves to live for himself now?"

Becoming a father had clearly changed him, softened him even. Tom still wasn't sure if that was necessarily a bad thing.

"I'm not keeping him here".

"Does he know that?"

Randolph muttered the healing charm under his breath and Tom did his best not to flinch at the sensation of split skin knitting itself back together.

"And Quirrell?"

Theodore snorted. "You mean your number one fan? Barty's a little fanatic, I'll admit, but at least his loyalty is firmly rooted in the cause whereas dear old Quirinus seems to be firmly rooted in you".

Randolph snorted. "You mean he wishes he to be rooted in-"

Tom sent a wandless stinging hex in his direction, but even that little piece of magic in his already drained state almost flattened him and he had to quickly grip the armrests of the chair to keep himself upright.

"I'll… talk to him about it" he finally decided on, "Both of them".

"Good. Because I'm getting sick of seeing Quirrell make heart eyes at you every time you enter the room".

"Heart eyes?" he exclaimed, turning, "Who the bloody hell did you learn that from?!"

"I do have a teenage son, Tom. I am, as he would say, quite hip with the kids these days".

"… He could not, possibly, have said that".

"Now who isn't acting their age?" Randolph quipped, sitting back, "Alright, your face is as good as new, although there is currently a scar - but apply some dittany on it for the next few nights and it should hopefully vanish by the end of the week. What else needs attention?"

Tom narrowed his eyes at him. "What makes you so sure that I let Moody get two hits in, instead of one?"

Lestrange stared at him for a moment, glanced down at his once-white shirt that was now decidedly… not, and then looked back up at him with a terribly judgemental look. He caved almost immediately.

"... Right shoulder".

Randolph raised his wand once more.

"What did he use?" Theodore asked curiously, "Confringo? Expulso? Sectumsempra?"

"Diffindo".

"Diffindo?" he exclaimed, "How… dull".

"Yes, yes, it was all dreadfully boring duelling to the death!"

Tom was saved from a no-doubt acerbic reply by the sound of something heavy slowly moving across the marble tiles. Turning, he watched Nagini return, her body rather dramatically extended with the small boar inside of it, as she gradually made her way to the rug in front of the fireplace.

He truly had been a fool to let his guard down around someone like Moody, even if the Auror had been half-dead. He hadn't duelled anyone in a long, long time - he was out of practice, it would seem, and if it hadn't been for her…

Moody's death had been a waste, really, but Tom couldn't feel too annoyed over it since otherwise it would've been him lying there on the cold tiles, so he didn't blame the snake in the slightest. In fact, if anything, he was rather charmed by her. She had proven herself to be even more of an asset than he'd initially believed, and if her venom was this powerful then he'd be a fool not to keep her close for as long as possible - even for forever, if he could manage it.

Forever…

Tom gave her a curious look before his dark gaze flickered over the one leg of Moody's that he could see sticking out from behind the couch, and then glanced back at the snake once more.

Forever.

It truly would be a shame to waste Moody's death, so perhaps…

"Oh no".

He blinked, startled out of his thoughts, and turned back to his friends who were now sporting matching expressions of exasperation and disbelief.

"Oh no what?"

"What do you mean what?" Theodore growled, uncrossing his legs and straightening up, "You what! You've got that- that- that bloody-"

"-look" Randolph finished, "You've got that bloody look!"

"Look? What look? I don't have a look!"

"Oh yes, you do!" Theodore continued, scowling at him, "You've got that I'm-about-to-do-something-stupid look! What are you planning?"

"Nothing!"

"Tom".

"In case you've forgotten, I was just attacked in my very own home! I was forced to fight for my life and-"

"-and you loved every single second of it!" Randolph snapped, "Your only regret is that the duel didn't last longer!"

And… Yeah. Fuck. He hated how well they knew him.

"So what are you planning?" Theodore asked again, "Because we know it has something to do with either the duel or with Nagini or with Moody's body or- oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me! Thomas Marvolo Riddle, I swear on Salazar Slytherin's grave that if you are thinking of making yet another Horcrux then I will peel the skin off your eyeballs and make you eat them!"

"I'm not!" he protested, "... Or, well, I mean-"

"THOMAS MARVOLO RID-"

"Yes, yes, I heard you the first time! But it wouldn't be for me!"

"It wouldn't be for-" Randolph stopped, looking beyond confused, "What in Merlin's name do you mean by it wouldn't be for-"

"I wasn't the one who killed him!" Tom shot back, "In case you've forgotten!"

In unison, they both turned to face Nagini who had now stretched out contently in front of the fire, clearly intending on hibernating there until she could comfortably move again.

"... Huh". Theodore frowned, tilted his head to the side, and then turned back to Tom again. "Is that even possible?"

"Theoretically, yes".

"You want Nagini… to make a Horcrux?"

"I want to at least explore the idea".

"And by making her a Horcrux, you would be ensuring her immortality and therefore her ability to protect you like she did today, which in turn ensures your immortality" Randolph realised, leaning back as the wound on his shoulder finally closed, "... You know, that's not actually a bad idea. What are you planning on using for the Horcrux itself?

Tom, exhausted and in pain and very seriously still pissed off, couldn't fight back his body's urge to flush and he angrily looked away, avoiding the gaze of his two friends because-

"Oh, you better not be thinking of yourself!"

-because he knew that they would put two and two together immediately.

"You want to make yourself into a bloody Horcrux?!" Theodore yelled, jumping to his feet far quicker than a man his age should be capable of, "Are you insane?! Actually, no, scratch that, because clearly you still are, but what in Salazar's name are you thinking?!"

"I'm thinking that it would break all known rules of magic and laws surrounding the Dark Arts! I'm thinking that I could do far worse for an immortal guard dog than a twelve-foot-long over-protective snake whose venom can kill in six seconds flat! I'm thinking that there are far more benefits to doing this than there are drawbacks and that it will revolutionise the way we see magical theory!"

"No, Tom!" Randolph interrupted sharply, "It might revolutionise the way we see magical theory but it might also kill you!"

"No it won't".

"You don't know that!"

"I know enough to be confident in my abilities to succeed".

"You know enough to be arrogant in your abilities to succeed!" he snapped, "You are being blinded by your pride, my friend, and we have all seen how this story ends!"

Tom felt the heat rising in his face, not from embarrassment, but from the growing frustration as Randolph's and Theodore's words echoed in his mind. Blinded by pride? They knew nothing about what he had seen, what he had discovered - what he was now on the verge of achieving! His hands clenched, his nails digging into his palms.

"I am not blinded by pride" he hissed, his voice low and dangerous, "I am fully aware of what could happen".

"Are you?" Randolph shot back, leaning closer, "Because this doesn't sound like one of your carefully thought-out plans, Tom. This sounds reckless! You've always been good at pushing boundaries, but there is a line!"

"That is exactly what you said when I first mentioned Horcruxes!" Tom snapped, his temper rising. "And yet, here we are. You're wrong. I know what I'm doing, and I will succeed!"

Theodore groaned in frustration, running his hands through his greying hair. "It's not about whether or not you can succeed - it's about what happens if you don't! If you make yourself into Nagini's Horcrux, you could be destroyed in ways we don't even understand! What if the magic backfires? What if it corrupts you from the inside out?"

Tom's jaw clenched. "I've been down this path before, Theodore. You forget what I've already sacrificed to get here".

"You can't gamble with your soul again!" he shouted, "You still have the locket! You've already regained everything else! Just- Why can't you just leave it at that?! Do you truly wish to risk becoming Lord Voldemort once more?!"

Silence.

The room was thick with tension. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire, and the soft, rhythmic breathing of Nagini, stretched out in front of the hearth next him, blissfully unaware of the brewing conflict.

Tom studied her, watching the slow, slow shrinkage of the dead boar in her stomach as her body started to digest her latest meal. She was powerful for a snake, and intelligent too. She had magic in her, somehow, somewhere, somewhy. She was… different. Unique. Better.

Just like him.

"Nagini".

She tilted her head back to meet his gaze.

"Yesss not-food?"

"If I sssaid I could make you immortal… Would you want that?"

"Immortal?"

"To live forever" he clarified, "To never get sssick or old. To never die".

She seemed to think for a moment.

"I ssstill get fed?"

"Yesss".

"And you… immortal with me?"

"Of courssse".

"With your ssstick? Making me warm?"

"Forever".

She thought for another minute and then-

"Yesss. I want that".

In front of him, Randolph exhaled deeply, trying a calmer approach.

"Tom, listen. We're not questioning your talent or your ability or power. We know what you're capable of, but there are some things - some lines - that even you shouldn't cross. You've already made five Horcruxes. You've already reabsorbed four of them. You've already done the impossible! Why do this now? Why risk yourself when you've already achieved so much?"

Because it wasn't enough.

It was never enough.

"... I have yet to achieve our cause" he replied quietly, "I have yet to tear the Ministry to the ground and rebuild society, creating a just world that everyone can live in, freely and safely without discrimination or- or bloody fear for simply existing! I haven't succeeded. Not yet. And I'm going to make a lot of enemies before I do… I've asked Nagini, and she's willing. She trusts me to ensure her immortality just as I trust her to guard mine".

Theodore sighed heavily and all-but collapsed back on the couch, his worried, haphazard position now a sharp contrast to the prim and proper pure-blood position he'd been in before.

"As much as I love and respect that snake for what she's done, she is still a snake! She may be intelligent, Tom, but she has no concept of immortality! No concept of what it involves, what it means! What if she gets tired of this life in a few years time and wants to return to the forest? Then what?"

"She won't" he said confidently, "I know she won't. She's not a normal snake, Theodore, and you know it. She's… magical. She has to be! And why would she ever wish to return to a harsh life barely surviving with starvation and cold when she can avoid all of that here?"

"Alright, alright, let's just… let's say that she does stay with you forever and you do make a Horcrux for her and you do, stupidly, foolishly, painstakingly make yourself the vessel for that Horcrux… How do you know it won't destroy you?"

"I've studied the magic. There's no one alive today that knows more about Horcruxes than I do. Nagini and I already have a bond. Familiars and- and witches pets are for muggle fairy tales but… but we have something! I won't be doing anything to my own soul, I'd simply be extending it with a small fragment of hers. And by binding myself to her death, I ensure her immortality while simultaneously strengthening my own".

"It's still risky".

"When have I ever shied away from risk?"

"It's dangerous".

"Of course it is! Why would I do anything else?"

"It'll have unforeseen consequences".

"I certainly hope so. Otherwise, it'll all have been for nothing".

Randolph crossed his arms, still clearly worried and unconvinced, but he couldn't hide the small, amused, exasperated smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"You have an answer for everything, don't you?"

"Yes".

Theodore slowly shook his head. "You're walking on a knife's edge as it is, Tom. If something goes wrong there is no coming back".

Tom smirked. The tell-tale bone-deep ache of exhaustion still simmered beneath his skin and his entire body throbbed with bruises and the aftermath of curses, but his mind was sharp, focused, his thoughts clearer than they had been in decades.

"I have faced death itself and come back. I have lost my sanity and regained it once more. I have already beaten the impossible and I will not allow anyone - Moody, Dumbledore, or anyone else - to threaten our success. And Nagini is part of the key to ensuring it".

His two old friends exchanged uneasy glances, neither one quite ready to concede but both recognizing when Tom's mind was firmly made up. And besides - if anyone could pull this off, it would be him.

"... Fine" Theodore finally muttered, breaking the silence, "But if this kills you, I reserve the right to bring you back from the dead once more just to murder you myself!"

Tom's lips quirked upward in the barest hint of a smile. "Duly noted".

Randolph shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. "If you're determined to do this, just… promise us you'll be careful. We don't need another incident like… like before".

His smile widened. "I'll be careful. Trust me."

Nagini shifted in her spot, letting out a soft hiss, as though agreeing with the decision. Tom bent down, his fingers brushing the cool scales of her body, his mind already racing ahead with the calculations, the equations, the possibilities.

"Now" he said, getting back to his feet, pleased when he was strong enough to stay standing, "Let's begin".