Blood On My Name

by sadlybeans

Voldemort, the Dark Lord, was defeated as the prophecy tells, by a teenage boy who had nothing but love and friendship at his side, his reign of terror over in a single night. After darkness enveloped him, Tom Riddle woke up in his eleven year old body, with the knowledge of the future and his past mistakes… Now the question is, will that knowledge help him avoid his destiny?

4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 Notes:

TW; vague allusions to character deaths in the past/future

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Classes were cancelled for the rest of the day, and rumours were already spreading throughout the student population, some closer to the truth and others declaring someone had been hurt or was dead. Tom paid them no mind and dedicated that time to finish some assignments early, and later he allowed himself to play chess against Alphard. To his surprise, his roomates had ranted angrily about what Dumbledore had done the whole trip back to the dungeons, and upon him asking Tiernan had scoffed and said they didn't take a friend being targeted lightly. Friend! Tom had never had any friends before, and he couldn't say he hated it even if he tried. Perhaps once, long ago, he could've considered his first followers something akin to friends, but it was much different as he had stood above them. This placed them as equals, and while it hadn't been in his plans… well, it was still something good. He wouldn't admit it, but that night he slept long and well after knowing he was surrounded by people who might actually like him.

The next morning there were no professors at breakfast still, something that raised even more curiosity from the students, and just as Tom was done with his light breakfast the caretaker Apollyon Codde came to fetch him. He reassured his classmates— his friends that he would be alright, and he followed Codde back to the headmaster's office.

The entire staff was present, even professors that wouldn't teach him until third year, all sporting serious looks in varying degrees. To his delight, Dumbledore looked as if he had swallowed something rotten, standing tensely next to Slughorn who was still pale as a sheet and seemed borderline about to collapse. Dippet stood in front of his desk with his hands folded in front of him, and next to him was Morfin. That, he truly hadn't expected, much less to see him… well, like that! His uncle had actually made himself presentable, having washed -and brushed!- his wild hair that now fell in waves similar to Tom's, set behind his shoulders and out of his face. His beard had been shaved away entirely, likely because he didn't have the patience to trim it, and he wore a new set of black robes with silver detailing that was slightly old fashion, but not quite enough to seem ridiculous and out of place. His arms were crossed over his chest and his face was as firm and sour as always, the only factor that convinced Tom this was not an impostor.

"Thank you for joining us, Mr. Gaunt" Dippet greeted him "Before breakfast is over there will be an announcement on changes the school staff will enforce, and as per agreed professor Dumbledore will apologise to you then. However, before that is done, your uncle requested that you come here and be completely honest over any other incident that might've happened"

He glanced at his uncle and then to the headmaster.

"None that I can think of, professor. As far as I am aware, the other members of staff have been fair and kind to me and my classmates"

Altough some of the adults looked definitely pleased, most were surprised at his simple answer, likely due to the fact they expected him to react like an entitled brat and make more demands. Perhaps once he would've taken advantage of the attention to get more out of it, but he had been young back then and he couldn't actually think of a reason he would need to do so. It did seem like his time in limbo had mellowed him after all… he was quite comfortable with living his second childhood at a normal pace.

"We appreciate your honesty, mr. Gaunt" Dippet nodded, and gestured to the rest of staff for them to start marching out of the room "We will give you a minute of privacy"

Tom watched as they all left, staring head on at Dumbledore as the redhead wizard passed by holding Slughorn's dead weight. The door clicked shut softly not two minutes later.

«He looks about to have an aneurysm» he commented dryly.

«He was kicked out» Morfin retorted with a twinge of amusement and Tom's eyebrows were both raised. «His replacement should come in next year. What in all seven hells are you doing?»

Tom smiled in a crude imitation of innocence, knowing it was unsettling even though his uncle never showed it so.

«I don't like that man» he answered honestly «he's a lying bastard and manipulator»

Morfin eyed the door. «Who, Grinderlwald's whore?»

«The one and only» Tom stepped forwards and around the headmaster's desk, dropping on the chair and surprisingly found it to be quite comfortable. Normally he wouldn't be so careless, but no portraits were currently present to tattle. «I'm surprised to see you here, it's not like you care about my petty fights»

Morfin looked down at him, finally dropping his mask to show pure disgust and repulsion.

«You're nothing but a stain in our family name, I will have it seen that you don't make it worse»

Tom laughed at that, and stood back up with a fluid motion, taking his time in dramatically making his way around the desk, hands behind his back.

«Why, I thought you'd managed that all on your own long before I came along!» Before Morfin could bristle and explode, Tom pressed the tip of his wand against his throat, halting his movements. «Look at the disgraceful state they left our family in— our properties are long gone and lost to time, our riches have been spent, and nearly all the relics of the house of Slytherin are gone. You want to talk about a stain on the family name? I am but the tiniest one»

He stared up at his uncle and his uncle stared down at him, and he had to resist the deep urge to break into his head like once he used to do. If he wasn't holding that card inside his sleeve for later, he might've. Twisting the wand a bit to dig it into his jugular vein, he inched one step closer.

«We have a deal that you better keep standing, Morfin Gaunt. I've done terrible things, deeds so inhumane and horrific you can't feasibly imagine. My hands are stained with more blood than you will ever see in your life» Tom's eyes glowed red as his voice became a sharper hiss and the lights flickered harshly to reflect his threatening aura. «There is nothing you could ever do to stop me or take what I want from my reach, you live because I allow you to. You are a good duellist and a fairly powerful wizard, but I am an apocalypse and you will do well on remembering that»

The lights stopped flickering and he gave a step back again, abandoning the adult cadence to his voice and lowering his wand, slipping it inside his sleeve. With a blink the crimson of his iris had become empty blue again, blood washed away into ice, and he seemed like an awfully normal child once more. Gone was the evidence of his abnormalities, but the turbulence in Morfin's eyes remained.

«… Who… are you….»

Tom smiled, the perfect imitation of an innocent boy, and he actually saw Morfin shiver and give a step back.

«Marzan Gaunt, your nephew. Don't be silly uncle, you know that»

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Tom walked back to the Great Hall on his own, arriving just a few minutes behind the professors, and he sat back down between Alphard and Abraxas, giving them a reassuring smile. Ah, that little conversation with Morfin had felt nice… alright, he was trying to be better and maybe even a little good, but old habits die hard and he was still quite fond of violence. He never did claim he was a morally upstanding man in either of his lives.

"What did they ask you?" Alphard whispered, leaning close enough that his long hair brushed against his shoulder.

Tiernan kicked him under the table and Alphard kicked him back, causing him to bite his lip as to not howl in pain since apparently he still hadn't learned to not piss him off yet— he never would, Tom knew that, and he only felt slightly sorry since Alphard's heels did have a rather hard sole. For all his deceivingly soft looks it would be best to not mess with him; even in their adult years Voldemort had respected him quite a lot, and it was only thanks to him that the Black lineage was held in his high regard… Tom tried not to think much about the past, but he couldn't help but linger in memories of the things he'd done. It had been his fault that Alphard ever left the family, after all.

Lucretia and Cygnus had never been too close or interested in him, busy building their own lives, but Alphard had been one of the closest thing to friends he ever had back then. As Tom grew greedier and madder with power the distance between them grew wider, and few of his old acquaintances stuck to his side, until he only had Abraxas left. Walburga and Orion supported his insane ambitions, so much so that they would be willing to swear loyalty as many others had, and they nearly did at the end— Alphard had arrived that day to his own home to see blood staining their carpets and floors, and had lost it completely. He left very clear he would never be complicit in their crimes and stormed away, never to set foot in that house again, and leaving a permanent rift in the family… Walburga and Orion had loved him more than they ever did anyone before or after, and couldn't go ahead with the last step less they lost him forever, but their views never changed and Alphard grew more distant until one day he simply stopped contacting them. Tom had never knew what became of him after the last letters they exchanged, when he expressed his disappointment over the course Tom chose to take. After that, he had only watched from afar as Walburga and Orion were miserable together, consumed by their anger both towards themselves and to Alphard for not listening— When their eldest son grew to be exactly like him not only in appearance but also in personality, they couldn't take it. The day Sirius Black left the family and received aid from the estranged brother of the Black family, the first time anybody heard of him in years, Walburga exploded in anger and erased them both from their family tree.

"Marzan?"

Tom blinked back to reality and looked down at Alphard, who had leaned his head on his left shoulder and was batting his eyelashes up at him, holding onto his arm.

"What did they say? Please?"

"That's playing dirty!" Orion protested, his lips twisting in jealousy— he still wasn't used to sharing the attention of his favourite cousin.

"They just wanted to ask me if I had any other matters to report" he replied in amusement.

Alphard pouted in disappointment and let go of his hold. And if any of the others were about to attempt to get him to talk they wouldn't get the chance, as Dippet stepped up to the podium and pointed his wand at his throat to make himself heard across the Great Hall, clearing his throat. The students quieted their conversations little by little, staring ahead in quiet expectation.

"Good morning students. As you are all aware by now, an urgent meeting with the board was carried yesterday, and there will be changes incorporated into the way certain situations are handled from now on… but first and foremost I would like to apologise to you, for disrupting your classes, as this was not the most optimal time. Now, before I take much of your time, the main reason the staff met was to discuss allegations of favouritism carried by certain professors— some of the older students were interviewed to verify this claim, and we found that indeed there is an unfair treatment based on a house bias" the students started murmuring again and he let them be for a second before he cleared his throat again and raised his hand in a placating movement to quiet them down. "This is of course, completely unacceptable and we apologise deeply for our lack of awareness. To fix this issue, the hourglass that marks your points will be completely evened out, and the points that define the winner of this year's House Cup will be collected onwards from today"

That said, the hourglass behind the professors' table shifted as a rain of gemstones filled in the gaps and they all stood at the exact same height with a flourish from professor Salman's wand.

"However, we also will be shifting some responsibilities between professors. I will be honest with you and say directly that professor Dumbledore was found to be the most guilty of this imbalance, and although his intentions were never to provoke any harm, we do not believe it is a sensible choice to let him be the Head of house Gryffindor. For the time being, professor Beery will be in charge of said duties"

While it did have certain humour, it was mostly just sad to see three quarters of the school either sigh in relief or look at their friends with contained happiness. Even the Gryffindors, who looked offended at the accusation, did look at the other houses with wide eyes as they realised that the vast majority did not share their views.

"Additionally, I regret to inform you that professor Slughorn will also be removed from his position as Head of Slytherin, a position that will momentarily be taken over by professor Staghart. While he has taught in Hogwarts for long years, he has finally decided to expand his horizons, and will no longer be with us next year" Hmm, so he had likely been given the chance to resign on his own as to keep his record as clean as he could. If that was the case then they hadn't been able to find any evidence of sinister things happening under his watch, but his behaviour was not to be tolerated any longer. "I ask you that you be respectful and give professor Slughorn his space in the meantime. All said, your classes will resume normally today. Thank you for your attention"

The professor walked back to the table and the students resumed their conversations in hushed whispers that soon returned to normal volume.

"What did you do?" Tiernan asked with wide eyes at Tom.

He shrugged innocently.

"I truly didn't say anything else, that was all the board's decisions"

"I can't believe you managed to get Dumbledore demoted" Abraxas commented as he stared up at the table where Dippet and Merrythought were having a hushed conversation with said old coot. "That man has a lot of power both in and out of the school"

Tom looked up, wondering how long it'd take them to get him to apologise as he'd promised. Abraxas was not incorrect at all… even now in 1938 Dumbledore was surrounded by allies that had power and his reputation was rock solid. When he had graduated and before he abandoned Grindelwald they had built a shining image together, and as the years passed Dumbledore had slowly fallen to crave power, to be the hero, to be acclaimed by all— his natural charisma and manipulative personality was the perfect tool to worm his way in high circles, and as much as it pained Tom to admit he was a powerful enough wizard to prove his strength that way as well. At one point he likely started believing his own lies and pretend story, because now he was fully convinced that his actions benefited everybody, that he knew exactly what was best not only for him and his followers, or even the students… no, he believed he was saving the entire wizarding world.

That was… well, very much far from the truth. In the following years when Grindelwald fell and Voldemort rose and became public enemy number one, the magical community in Great Britain would decay and become but a deplorable shell, refusing progress and actively seeking to stiffle any ideas against the 'new views of the younger generation', all of which were dictated by Albus Dumbledore behind many masks and puppets. Had Voldemort been a better option? No, not at all, but the point stood; Dumbledore needed to be taken down, both then and now. If anything, he could only hope that the bastard's and his own death in the future allowed their community to move ahead at last. Seriously, even now it was the magical community in the worst state politically and education wise, surrounded by great powers of other magical nations.

"He's only a teacher for now, if he doesn't want worse rumours going around, I imagine he has no choice" he finally answered.

"He might target you from now on" Orion warned.

Tom smiled.

"He can try"

There was no apology from the old goat that morning, nor all throughout the day, but Tom let it be… the only harm came down to Dumbledore's reputation with the headmaster.

After the November incident Hogwarts resumed activity as usual, with nothing remarkable to note beyond the careful treatment of professors towards their students. For the first time in years, the competition for the House Cup was very intense, although soon the students had started to learn that the best way to earn points was to dedicate time to their studies, while having too many disputes reduced them, which meant the school saw a decrease in punishments and detentions.

Each day in transfiguration class Tom could feel Dumbledore's intense stare trying to catch a slip up, another break in his composure, and every day he was further disappointed to see that the Gaunt heir was simply perfect, performing his spells with ease and detail, and presenting essays that were of the highest caliber. He never sought trouble, staying in his tight circle of pureblood friends and following the rules calmly and without issue. Not a single spat with other classmates, nor even a bad glare sent to anybody… It had gotten to the point Tom could see him try to establish eye contact to slip into his mind, and he was highly amused each time as he simply let it fall as empty as an eternal white landscape, no need for shields or protective mazes. Dumbledore's frustration grew higher but he refused to acknowledge it, going about his days as if the man barely existed.

And then, winter break arrived. All his friends were returning to their homes to celebrate the holidays with their families, which meant he was left alone at Hogwarts for a couple weeks as he didn't particularly want to be around Morfin in their pathetically boring shack. From the entire school, only a handful stayed for his surprise— from Slytherin, there was only him and a few students from upper years, which meant he didn't truly have many prople to converse with. He was used to being lonely and didn't mind it, using his free time to read up on some books from the library.

"All alone again, mr. Gaunt?"

He lifted his eyes to see the new Head of their house. Iraia Staghart was a young man barely in his mid twenties, and he taught both astrology and flying to first years, being mostly aloof and speaking with a light voice that always made it seem that his mind was lost elsewhere. His dark hair was long to nearly his waist, with half gathered atop his hair with a hairpin that shimmered in iridescent white, and his pale skin made him seem like a porceilain doll as he often wore makeup that lightened his already pale complexion. While his eyes were completely white, he wasn't blind at all. Most of the time he wore flowing robes in blue and green, traditional Chinese hanfu— his twin, the divination professor, was only differenciated by his hair which was a slight shade of lighter brown, and by his tendency to wear yellow and green instead. Tom had always suspected they had blood from some magical creature, but he had never tried looking into it at depth… before he graduated the first time around, Azure Staghart had been killed in the war against Grindelwald and Iraia had then resigned from his promising teaching and writing career to go back to the Magical Chinese Empire, their homeland.

"I've been rather distracted reading, I'm afraid I'd be terrible company"

It wasn't long past lunch and the Great Hall was mostly silent as the other students that had stayed were each focused on their own thing. In Slytherin's table there was only himself, in fact. Well, used to be only him, as the professor sat down in front of him.

"The Secrets of Merlin" the professor read aloud the title of the book resting on the table "An interesting book. Do you often read on Hogwarts alumni?"

Tom allowed himself to smile and shook his head, looking down at the pages for a split second.

"I've always found fascinating that a student that came from this very halls is so acclaimed as a legend. One day he might've sat here where I am today, and walked beneath the same trees… His name sounds so distant, like a myth from times older than this castle, and yet he was here not a millennia ago" he moved his finger over the illustrations. "My ancestor even taught him personally and his grades are still accounted for in the old logs of the castle library"

Professor Staghart looked at him with a strange smile for a moment before he also looked down at the book. The illustrations were very wildly different in between one another… even though plenty of old portraits existed, none remained from that era. Nobody remembered what he or the founders looked like, only further driving a distance between them and the current time.

"And was he like you, then?"

"Well, he was rather bad at charms"

The professor laughed at his cheeky answer, gathering a few glances but nobody truly seemed interested in their conversation and soon they returned to their own thing.

"You seem to crave knowledge a lot, mr. Gaunt"

"There are many mysteries and unanswered questions left behind by all those who came before. Our books tell us how Hogwarts was founded and how it grew, but how did those founders even met? What was their life like? Who were they?… I'm nobody important, but if I were I would want to be remembered for who I am, and not what I've done"

Voldemort's legend had lived on long past his death, he was sure. Before Death erased that future, he likely had become a cautionary tale, another failed maniac seeking power. Even when he was alive, nobody had remembered who he had been any longer, just his actions… he had deserved that, but not everybody did.

"I see… so you rather stay in the castle to read instead of going home?"

"I don't have much of a home" he shrugged "I believe both my uncle and I are more comfortable keeping a distance"

"You must miss your mother a lot"

Tom thought back to the foolish woman who had given her life for him, and who had actively destroyed someone else's life because of her childish infatuation. He had never been fond of his father, he didn't know him at all, but now that he was so distanced from the situation he felt certain pity. No… Merope may have gotten what she deserved at the end, and Tom felt he was better off without her.

"Not particularly, it was always just me" he looked up at the professor again. "I'm old enough to not need parents either way, I know how to look after myself"

For a moment there was only silence as he read on and the professor served himself a cup of tea, some students coming in and out of the Great Hall over the course of the next fifteen minutes.

"Mr. Gaunt… I know you perhaps don't feel like you can trust me after the incidents with professors Dumbledore and Slughorn, but as your Head of house, I would like to say you can come to me if you ever do need it, either for academics or any worries you have over your home life. My door will always be open"

…. Oh. Tom thought back to his arrival into this new life, the nurses fretting over his half dead body and the potions they made him take regularly to heal his malnutrition. The aurors that had looked far and wide for any trace of his mother— they had cared, hadn't they? And professor Staghart did too, hearing that he as a child was all alone with no responsible guardian to care for him. After all, if any eleven year old uttered those words, it was saddening and heartbreaking… he wasn't eleven, not anymore, but nobody but Death and himself knew that.

"… Thank you, professor. I will remember that"

That conversation replayed in his head more times than he'd like to admit, but he pushed it to the back of his mind in the following days until christmas morning arrived. Although he was alone in the castle he had made sure to order gifts by mail to be delivered to his friends, and when he awoke in the 25th at his usal hour he found that there were plenty of wrapped gifts waiting at the end of his bed. He knew Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had a tree with presents underneath, but most if not all of Slytherin's students were pureblood heirs that had never even heard of christmas beyond it being a muggle holiday, and therefore they received them in their bedrooms. It also kept things more private, and prevented any students from feeling bad at receiving less presents.

He took a shower, made his bed, and then fed Rai before he sat at the end of his bed to check his presents, letting the viper curl up under a ray of sun that filtered through the glass roof. The first one he opened came from the Black cousins, a book in dark arts copied from the less private collection of the Black family. Tom knew most spells on it, but there were a few fascinating rituals he wanted to look deeper into. The next one was from Tiernan, who sent him a pair of elegant dragon hide boots that were meant for duelling, but were most excellent for almost everything else, as they were very resistant and protected with charms against mud and stain. Next was Abraxas, who had sent him two french books in advanced curses, a very welcomed addition to his growing collection.

To his surprise however, there were more things in the pile. Mainly, a box signed with elegant handwriting and a note that read;

'Happy holidays, mr. Gaunt. I found this in the restricted section of the library, and thought you would find it to be intriguing, so I sought permission from Mrs. Rhode and the headmaster to give you a copy— one that's not enchanted, that is. Best wishes, Iraia Staghart'

He smiled despite himself and pulled on the lid, uncovering a thick tome bound in dark leather; 'Lost Rituals of the Old World'. This one he did not know, but by title alone he was already intrigued— professor Staghart had definitely hit the mark with his present.

Carefully setting it aside he found that the next package came from the Ministry, a simple note detailing that an extra credit was allotted to his account for the holidays, to be spent solely on him, and additionally there were a few assorted candy boxes popular within children. He was never one to have a sweet tooth but a couple sour sweets would be just fine, and he plopped one into his mouth as he moved to the last one, a rather small one wrapped in gold. His eyes squinted as he recognised that design instantly— what was he planning now? He focused and let the magic around it bleed into the visible spectrum; a few compulsions, nothing too elaborate. He dispelled them rudely with a tendril of red and tore the paper away with no delicacy, finding a small crystal ball encased in a metal frame.

He lifted up to let the light of the ceiling go through it, staring at the mist slowly turning inside.

"Clever… but I know what a spyglass is" he mused with a chuckle, and the crystal cracked with a harsh line vertically dissecting it through the middle, the mist dissipating in the air.

Seems he's not foolish, after all.

He looked down towards the door, where a mass of void was staring at him. He shrugged and tossed the spyglass into the air. As it descended it dissolved in a million particles of sand, which disappeared before they touched the floor.

"Unfortunately, no. He knows I'm not normal"

Perhaps he would not suspect you if you played your part better.

"Well, what fun is there in that?"

Death smiled its awful grin and then moved forwards, the void unaffected by the light it stood under.

Look at you… who would have thought Lord Voldemort could be so soft?

Tom scrunched up his nose and he gathered the paper wrappings to dispose of them with a vanishing spell.

"Come on, do you really have to hold that ridiculous monicker over my head? I was in my seventies, I was young and foolish"

Death completely ignored him.

Is this your brilliant plan? To play at being a child?

"I am a child, I'm eleven years old" and he pointed down at his body to emphasise his point. "Nobody listens to eleven year olds— but I can build trust from other students adults so that when the time comes, they will listen to me. You want me to split up the muggle and magic worlds, then you will have to wait for me to do it my way"

Death inched closer to loom over him but Tom didn't flinch or even blink as he tilted his head back to keep 'eye contact', even though his limbs started to feel stiff and his heart grew fainter.

I gave you this new chance. I can take it away.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic… you chose me. If you want different results maybe pick another idiot. The Potter brat for example"

Maybe I should, maybe I'll bring him here and drop him at your feet.

Tom shrugged nonchalantly.

"He wouldn't survive and you know it. Listen, you gave me a task to fulfill and I am doing my part, which I also must remind you is only starting. This is going to take me years, don't demand me to have it finished in a few months. At the end of the day, you can simply rewind and try again as many times as you wish, you're Death"

For a moment it lingered standing above him in silence before it drifted back to hover in the middle of the room.

Don't disappoint me, little beast. If you fail me, not even the wildest imagination of mortals can conjure the pain I would inflict on you.

It vanished into thin air then, just like always, and Tom's body returned to its natural living state. He sighed and looked down at Rai, who seemed unaffected and was staring at him intently.

«Are you alright, master? Who are you talking to?»

Tom caressed his head with a finger.

«Nobody… don't worry about it»

He came down for breakfast with the new book under his arm, finding that the main table had been modified with extra chairs so that the students could all join the professors and not be alone. He figured it would not be wise to publicly thank professor Staghart for his gift, but the man gave him a subtle wink and he smiled in gratefulness as he sat down on the Slytherin end, exchanging a polite 'Happy Holidays' with everybody as he went. As always he served himself just barely enough to pass as acceptable while he silently listened to casual conversation, until one of the older Hufflepuffs glanced at his plate.

"No wonder you're so thin, you barely eat anything!"

It sounded rude, but he could tell she was simply concerned. He looked at his half eaten scraps of turkey and then back up.

"English food is… not very flavourful" he said slowly.

For a second the table was in silence before professor Staghart and his twin started snickering and then the older students devolved in laughter too. The first years of the other houses looked a little more confused, and Tom had to blink in surprise since he hadn't expected anybody to find it funny instead of offensive.

"Absolutely no offence to the elves, but Gaunt is onto something" A fifth year Gryffindor chuckled as he shook his head.

"Perhaps we should look into adding more variety to the dishes provided" professor Staghart mused, turning his head towards the headmaster as the movement of his eyes was hard to track without a pupil. "I miss rice terribly during the school year"

"It's indeed a wonderful idea" professor Merrythought clapped her hands with an amused smile still in her mature face "Our number of foreign and exchange students has increased over the years. Perhaps then mr. Gaunt would eat a little more"

He had the decency to blush the slightest pink and look down at his plate again to grab another bite, but the spirits seemed to lighten up even more and any barrier of awkwardness vanished for the rest of the meal, enough that he even joined in several conversations and even smiled multiple times. It was in moments such like those that he remembered why he and so many other young students over the years considered the castle their second -or first- home. Even though at the moment of his arrival he had felt underwhelmed, this time around he came to slowly love the castle once more and to feel like he truly belonged there no matter what. It was unexpected, but undoubtedly nice.

"Would you like to join us outside?" his Head of house asked him as breakfast wrapped up. "We have just enough students for an amicable quidditch match— no bludgers or snitch, just a quaffle"

Tom had never been fond of brooms and he only performed in flying class to keep his perfect grades, but once in a while wouldn't hurt…

"Hmm, alright"

Rai stayed with his book on the stands wrapped in a cosy scarf, guarded by Azure Staghart, while Iraia joined the students in the quidditch pitch. They borrowed the brooms that belonged to the school, all old models that didn't go too fast, but they weren't playing seriously and they were supposed to go purposefully slow for the first years that had never played before. Tom's team consisted of a handful of older students of all houses, a first year Ravenclaw that didn't look too fond of flying, and Charlus Potter. The other Potter twin was in the opposite team— to be completely honest, it was the first time he even remembered or realised they existed, and he only did because Death had mentioned Harry Potter earlier that morning. But yes, the Potter twins Fleamont and Charlus were in his year… Gryffindors, of course, and both sporting rebel brown hair, eyes and skin, although not the exact same features as they were fraternal twins.

"You know how to play quidditch, right?" Potter asked him and the Ravenclaw, Mordecai Lovegood.

Lovegood shrugged helplessly and Tom nodded.

"Throw the ball through the goal post for ten points, don't let them take it away" He summarised for the pale haired first year as they rose from the ground. "Throwing someone off the broom is forbidden and you can't kick or punch, but shoving is fair game"

"That's the gist of it" Potter nodded as they assumed formation behind the older students. "Just try to avoid others and if someone passes you the ball, don't get caught"

"Sure, sure…."

Once the students were prepared the professor joined them in the air, although not with a broom. From his sleeve he pulled out a shimmering silver sword that he stepped on to fly up to meet them, a sight that still amazed the students even though by now they had seen it plenty… In the magical Chinese Empire there was no such thing as wizards. Instead, magic was practiced in what they called cultivation, channeling it directly from their magic core into their meridians like qi. The result was less flexibility when it came to spells, but much more powerful casting in the form of talismans and complicated arrays. A spiritual sword was the most essential tool compared to a wand. Wandless magic in western countries was the crudest approximation to it, but it definitely was nowhere near as perfected and refined.

When the match started, it all became a rush of brooms flying past as fast as they'd go and a good few screams as they tried to warn each other and the like. Tom wasn't really doing much until the opposite team got close to their posts and Potter managed to run into the lead, making them drop the quaffle. Well, since Lovegood looked too panicked he dropped down and grabbed it, shooting towards the opposite side of the field. Alright, he had never been a fan of the game simply because he thought his time was better spent elsewhere, but he never said he was bad at it. He had decades of well practiced reflexes that allowed him to easily slip between the enemy team, which he used to get nearly to the goal posts, before he threw the quaffle towards another team member who scored their first point.

"You're good! Are you sure you've never played before?" The Slytherin who scored the point asked as they flew back to their positions. When Tom answered with an innocent smile they bursted out in laughter.

The game continued over the course of two hours in which they won by only ten points scored last minute, and although they were all exhausted it had certainly been… fun. Even Lovegood seemed to have relaxed at the end despite his initial reluctance to play. The older Slytherins even asked if he would consider joining the house team the upcoming year, but Tom politely refused since he indeed didn't particularly find it useful and he had plenty of other things to do.

It was the very first time in… well, forever, that he actually enjoyed the holidays. Well, Death could complain all it wanted, but he wasn't going to give this up so easily.

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*I have many thoughts on how different magical communities work, but for the case of magical China, it would definitely be a xianxia/wuxia setting in which there are no schools like in western countries, but cultivation clans, wandering masters and the like. Xianxia and wuxia are popular genres of Chinese literature that centre in martial arts and supernatural fantasy elements set in historical times, it's quite interesting and beautiful!

As a side note, spiritual swords have names! While I have not mentioned it in this chapter, Iraia's sword is named 鑫越, XīnYuè. It is my husband's name, because I am silly like that. I should also clarify that the twins go by a western name that is not their actual birth name.

*Further side note, I have links to threads on reddit that have been very helpful when drafting some things that might not even make it into the final draft, but are very much interesting to read as the people who wrote these posts have wonderful ideas. You can find them here: Post about an Australian wizarding school (https//r/harrypotter/comments/44n4jr/i_created_an_australian_school_for_witches_and/?rdt=58441) & Thread on headcanons about school around the world (https//r/HPfanfiction/comments/lhogah/tell_me_about_the_school_of_magic_in_your_country/?rdt=55202)

*On the Potter twins; there is no twins originally, but I simply thought this would be a little more interesting. Again, I have added a lot of characters and tweaked a lot of details to make this story more immersive.

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Now, this chapter actually marks and end… while I would definitely like to write out the entirety of Tom's life at Hogwarts, it would be tedious and repetitive, as he doesn't have many significant events in his school life… Harry Potter had multiple murder attempts but at the worst, Tom only gets to have petty wars with Dumbledore.

Therefore, I've decided we'll do a time skip and jump to fourth year, where things start getting more juicy. And yes, I am bringing you a Triwizard Tournament, how could I not? You will also meet the new potions professor then, another new character.

Until then, I hope this chapter was to your liking!

Oh! Nearly forgot. I did take some time between the previous chapter and this one due to the fact I was actually drawing a few base designs on the entirety of our Slytherin friend group! Now, I'm certainly not the best artist out there and I most definitely am never going to render this fully, but I am somewhat satisfied and I feel it definitely conveys just how I imagine them.

You can find said art here (https//sadlybeans/750521780365639680/drew-this-piece-for-my-hp-fic-blood-on-my-name)

Now that is all, this time for real! I will see you hopefully soon :)