Chapter 2

Harry was dodging in between Malfoy's spells with ease. It had been the first session of the dueling club, and Snape had volunteered Harry and Draco to be a demonstration pair. Despite knowing that his Head of House was setting him up for failure, Harry was anxious to prove to his house that while he may run from the masses, in a one-on-one fight, he was the superior wizard.

Spell after spell Harry weaved his body expertly in between each piece of magic that Draco attempted to hit him with. A grin had started to appear on his face when he could tell that the murmurs of disbelief had begun to grow. Despite the number of simple spells his housemate cast at him, Harry just continued to dodge, and occasionally even shielded with the protego charm. That had caused a lot of impressed whispers, but Harry was just getting warmed up as he flicked his wand forward and non-verbally hit the boy with an overpowered flipendo.

When Draco flipped backwards and landed on his back, the Defense Professor, Gilderoy Lockhart, called out, "I said disarm only!"

"Now you call it out." Harry grumbled.

Watching Draco jump back to his feet, Harry just offered the boy an unimpressed look. This seemed to anger the blonde, and he shot his wand forward, "Serpentsorsia!"

A black serpent came flying from Draco's wand and flopped onto the dueling platform. Scoffing, Harry watched as the snake reared its hood, and hissed in the direction of Harry. To the left of the dueling platform, a young boy, who was too close to the snake, stumbled back in fear, gaining the attention of the serpent. Just when the snake was about to lunge at the unsuspecting student, Harry hissed, "Stop! Obey me, and attack my enemy."

The serpent seemed surprised, and unable to resist the command, and it turned to face Draco, and hissed, "Yes, master."

Before it could even begin to advance on Draco, however, Snape had stepped forward and incinerated the creature. Harry frowned in disappointment, but only then did he realize what he had done. There were no more whispers in the Great Hall. Snape was looking at Harry with a look of scrutiny the young boy had never seen before, but he had to believe it was disbelief. When Harry turned to look at Lockhart, the man's face was pale with fear.

The whispers finally started and the closest he recognized was from a Gryffindor Harry recognized as Cormac McLaggen, "I knew he was the Heir of Slytherin."

As the weight of what he had done settled his stomach churned, and a cold sweat seemed to break out across his body. His hands trembled, feeling the ghostly realization of what appeared to be his own confession displayed in front of most of the student body.

Taking a step back, his eyes darted around the room, searching for a way to undo his irreversible action. The evidence appeared stark and undeniable, and the accusations that were coming towards him now were far from silent. Realizing there was no turning back, Harry turned from the platform and began making his way out of the hall.

No one attempted to follow him, no one attempted to stop him, and he was on the run the moment he made it out of the entrance corridor. He ran up a flight of stairs and made a sudden left turn. He didn't know where he was going, he just had to escape the whispers. Pushing open the next set of doors, he lurched forward toward a nearby sink, and knew he had made it to a washroom.

Heaving for breath, he nearly lost his breakfast in the basin. Why had he done it? Why had he attempted to command the snake? Was he so desperate to show his housemates that he was worth more than their scrutiny that he would unveil this magical ability that carried such a stigma? Particularly now?

It had been foolish, stupid even. Now the whole school would think he attacked Mrs. Norris and Colin Creevey. It had not helped that he had jinxed the boy a few days before for taking photos of him just outside the Great Hall, and now he might as well have painted a sign that he had done it on his chest.

Of course, Harry didn't have the faintest clue who the real heir was, but whoever they were, someone had just fallen into a bit of luck. All eyes would be on Harry now. More so than they already were. His hands gripped the sink tightly, and he closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. He could fix this. He would just keep his head down, and like all the rumors that had happened in the school, they would blow over. This one may take longer than the others, but he could rely on his father's cloak to keep a low profile.

Taking another deep breath as he formulated plans to avoid the student body, and further suspicion, he opened his eyes, and glanced around, realizing he had made yet another mistake. He was in the girl's bathroom.

Taking a step back, he felt the water rush into his shoes, and he frowned, because apparently one of the toilets had flooded the room. Looking to his left, his frown deepened when he noticed a small black book on the ground. Glancing to each corner of the room to see if anyone was around, he walked over to the black book, and picked it up, realizing it was bound in nice leather.

His stomach churned as he held what appeared to be a diary, and something about it made him feel uneasy. When he turned it over, he saw the name clear as day, and frowned at it, having no recognition, "Tom Marvolo Riddle."

.o.

The walk back to the girl's bathroom was done in a daze. Harry could hardly believe what he had done. He had made an alliance—no, a blood pact—with the man who killed his parents.

That isn't necessarily true. Harry thought morbidly.

Teenage Tom Riddle didn't even know why Voldemort from his future went after Harry's parents. He had said there were suspicions, but nothing for certain.

The Blood Pact is mutual. Harry tried to assure himself. Tom would not be able to kill him anymore than Harry would be able to kill Tom. Of course, he could get his followers to do so, but that would be a waste of effort. Tom had spared Harry when it would have been all too easy to take his life. The boy was having a hard time seeing the man as anything, except Tom, his confidant through the dark times the year had brought.

He murdered Ginny Weasley. There was no justifying that in Harry's mind. The man had killed a twelve-year-old girl, and the only reason he wasn't dead beside her was because of his talent.

Harry knew he was gifted. Professor Flitwick and McGonagall told him so often. They had both taken turns telling him over the years that he was as talented as both of his parents, and Tom had admitted they must have been very gifted to defy him three times. It was one of the few compliments he had ever received in his life, and he held onto it proudly. It was what truly pushed him to do his best in class. His parents had sacrificed themselves for him to have a chance at life, and he wanted to make them proud.

They wouldn't be proud of me for siding with their murderer. The thought boomed in his head, but he quickly shook it off, their pride was worth nothing if he was dead. That would've just meant their sacrifice was in vain, something he could not allow. Every sense of self-preservation he had told him there was no other choice, and he knew he would have to live with the consequences of the blood pact.

When he arrived in the bathroom on the second floor, he felt a cold shudder pass through him. He had never told lies like he was about to. He was going to cover up the death of an innocent girl who was caught in the crossfire of a Dark Wizard's resurrection.

There was no other option. Harry promised himself as he closed his eyes, gripped his wand a little harder, and pushed himself out of the bathroom. He hesitated when he made it into the hallway. Where should he go first?

The Common Room seemed like a bad idea. If the school was on lockdown and he just strolled in, his housemates would be suspicious. Of course, they had to notice he wasn't around by now. Going to his Head of House was equally unattractive. If Dumbledore and Tom were both Legilimens he would bet that it was something Snape could be as well. He wouldn't chance that. Dumbledore wouldn't force himself into Harry's mind, while Snape just might.

He had the diary, perhaps he should just go straight to Dumbledore. Pretend as if he wanted to turn the girl in. Perhaps that would make him look less guilty. Taking a breath and deciding on a path, Harry began making his way towards the seventh floor. The portraits were whispering at the sight of him, and he felt the pain of his injuries flaring. He did everything he could to mask his misery, and carried on through the castle until he reached the stairwell on the fifth floor. It was there the Headmaster was standing with a worried expression bare on his face, "Harry my boy, are you alright?"

"It was Ginny Weasley, sir." Harry said quickly, "Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets." Dumbledore's eyes widened as Harry frantically pulled the diary from his robes. He then handed it over to the headmaster, keeping his eyes on the diary.

Dumbledore took the diary out of his hands after a moment, opened it up, flipped through a few pages, and froze.

Harry swallowed hard, hoping that Tom's trick would hold up. A few moments passed, and Dumbledore closed the book with a snap, and began examining it further. His eyes narrowed when he found the gold letters at the bottom of the diary, and Dumbledore asked with a tone in his voice Harry had never heard, "I must ask where you found this?"

"I saw Ginny Weasley painting the wall on the second floor, sir." Harry said, looking up at the man, but being careful to avoid his gaze, "When she was done, she ran before I could confront her. She dropped this when she fled. I think she knew I was onto her sir."

"Onto her?" Dumbledore asked in a serious tone.

"Everyone suspected me, sir. I have been hunting the heir myself to clear my name. I was just about to curse the little Weasley when she took off. I grabbed the diary and chased her to the girl's bathroom, but she disappeared. I am not sure where she went, sir."

"That was a very dangerous thing to do, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore said as he continued to flip through the pages, and seemed to freeze at the sight of a page filled with some type of message, "You read the note, I presume?" Dumbledore demanded.

"Yes sir. When I lost her, I searched for clues. I then began hunting for a secret passageway in hopes of finding out how she escaped. I did not think Weasley was capable of opening the chamber, but-" Harry trailed off as if he were thinking deeply before shaking his head, "When I finished reading it, I came looking for you, sir." Harry said softly.

"This is most serious, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore said with a sigh, "Did you not hear Professor McGonagall make an announcement to the whole castle to return to the dormitories?"

"I did." Harry lied, "But I couldn't trust the diary to fall into the wrong hands. I couldn't trust that my housemates would not attempt to take it from me. They have taken a lot of my other things, sir."

Harry said this last part quietly, and his voice was full of shame. Dumbledore likely thought he was embarrassed, but the shame of being unable to defend himself was much stronger than his embarrassment. Tom said he would teach him, and he could only hope he would learn to defend himself…

Or enough to put those bastards in their place. Harry thought darkly.

Shaking his head Harry said, "I don't trust Professor Snape either, sir. He would have just dismissed me. I knew I needed to find you."

"While I believe you can trust Professor Snape, in this case, I believe you did the right thing, Harry." Dumbledore promised, before flicking his wand and whispering an incantation Harry only recognized by name, "Expecto Patronum."

A silver Phoenix materialized and Dumbledore muttered, "I have found Mr. Potter, and will return him to his common room. All Heads of House are to meet in my office in ten minutes."

With that, the Phoenix took off and the Headmaster turned back to Harry, "Let us get you safely back to the Dungeons. We cannot be certain of the authenticity of this letter and we could have a killer on the loose."

Nodding his head, Harry followed beside the man who began moving faster than Harry would've expected a man of his age would be capable of. His ribs roared in protest as he breathed deeply in attempt to keep up with the man. The amount of restraint it took from groaning out in pain was immense, but he knew if he gave any signs of injury, the gig may be up.

Reaching the dungeons took little time, though Harry was practically ragged by the time they made it, despite not appearing so. Dumbledore waved his wand and the snake-like body reared up, showing a door to the Common Room. Before Harry could go forward, Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder, "Harry, I must ask if there is anything else you can tell me about the events that took place today? Anything at all."

Harry glanced up at the man's eyes, and immediately tried to fixate on his beard, or anything else to prevent the man from peering into his thoughts, "No sir."

Sighing, the Headmaster squeezed his shoulder slightly, "I can protect you, Mr. Potter. Anything you might need to tell me would never need to be repeated. You can trust me."

Trusted to leave with me, my aunt and uncle. Trust you to let me be bullied and attacked by my own housemates, and the rest of the school.

"If I think of anything else, sir, you will be the first to know." Harry lied, looking at the ground now, and feeling slightly vindictive said, "Please make sure the school is made aware of my innocence sir. I do not wish for the castle to believe I am the heir of Slytherin for the rest of my time at Hogwarts."

The Headmaster said nothing to that, but instead flicked his wand towards the door that had appeared in the wall, causing it to open. It was obvious there was a lot of chatter on the other side of the door, but at the sound of it opening, the voices quieted till there was silence.

Harry felt the pull on his shoulder from the Headmaster as the two entered a full Slytherin Common Room and descended the stairs. Many gasped at the sight of him being led in by the Headmaster, while others just took on looks of scrutiny, "Mr. Potter here has done a great service to the school this evening. He has helped in identifying the Heir of Slytherin. For now I, and Mr. Potter will have to keep the name of our suspect to ourselves until a time when the Aurors can complete their investigation. Please do not ask Mr. Potter any questions about the events of this evening for the time being. The school will remain on lockdown for now. 50 points to Slytherin, for perseverance in the face of adversity."

Dumbledore squeezed Harry's shoulder, and then said softly, "Get some rest, my boy, you have earned it."

Gratefully, Harry offered the man a nod, and avoided his eyes one last time before separating from the man and walking towards his dormitory. He felt the eyes of every member of the house on him, but he kept an impassive face, and moved to his dormitory.

When he made it he was thankful no one had followed him. Without hesitation, he thrust himself into his bed, and lowered his drapes, before raising his protections around the four posters. When he was finished, he pulled himself under the covers, and for the first time all night let the tears fall at what he had done and what he had endured.

.o.

The rumor mill was like wildfire the next day. The fact that Dumbledore had cleared Harry of any involvement with the heir of Slytherin had made the rounds to the other three houses by dawn. News that he had been awarded for helping to identify a suspect had also reached the ears of every student.

At breakfast, Harry noted that none of the Weasleys were present, and he felt a pang of guilt knowing that they would be grieving the loss of their sister. He may not have been a fan of the red-headed bastards, but he didn't wish that kind of grief on anyone.

The absence of the Weasleys wasn't the only oddity. Harry had seen a dozen Aurors since he left the common room. Six of them were currently in the Great Hall watching the students eat with neutral expressions on their faces.

When he took his seat at the Slytherin table it was away from everyone else as usual. For once however, he wasn't left alone for long. Soon Draco Malfoy was sitting before him with an excited look on his face, "What happened last night? With the heir?"

As Draco dragged his plate over, Pansy Parkinson, a girl from his year with short black hair, and a skinny face, asked, "Did you see who it was?"

Scoffing a girl to Harry's left further down spoke, "Of course he saw them. Dumbledore told us he helped identify the heir."

Daphne Greengrass, the pureblood princess of their house, and one of the most neutral, was gazing at him curiously. Despite being in the same house together they had hardly shared more than a dozen words with each other. The blonde-haired girl with blue eyes stared at Harry and her curiosity turned to suspicion, "How did you manage that anyway?"

Clenching his teeth Harry shook his head, "It's an open investigation. I can't talk about it."

Harry's eyes drifted to a large black man with a nose ring, wearing Auror robes. He could feel the gaze of the man on him, and he did everything he could to remain impassive under his scrutiny.

Theodore Nott, one of Dracos' most loyal fanatics, arrived, putting his plate down directly in front of Harry, "There has to be something you can tell us."

Swallowing Harry glanced back at the Auror before sighing, "I am clearly being watched. They will know if I say something. Let's just say it's going to be quite the surprise."

The entire group frowned at that while Draco offered his housemate a grin, "My father would pay good gold to know who the heir was. It has to be someone worth allying with."

Snorting, Harry shook his head, "I am afraid you will all be quite disappointed when the truth comes out. You can assure your father that pursuing the suspect in question will not be a cause worth following."

Draco's smile fell at this, and he shook his head, while Nott asked, "How did you even discover the Heir's identity?"

"I took it quite personally when all of you thought I was the one attacking our classmates." Harry bit out frostily, "I have done little else the past few weeks, but research and attempt to locate a suspect. Now that my name is clear, you can all bugger off back to where you came from."

Scoffing, Draco rose to his feet, "Come on you lot, Potter doesn't seem to want to milk his only chance at being someone worth talking to."

Quickly Nott and Parkinson followed after Draco back to their normal side of the table, while Daphne shrugged and continued eating. Her best friend, Tracey Davis, a quiet half-blood in their house, merely looked disappointed at the lack of drama. For his part, Harry stabbed his food in irritation as he glanced around at the rest of his housemates, who were all taking turns stealing looks at him.

Breathing deeply Harry tried to remain calm and passive. He would teach them all a lesson one day. A lesson to respect him and his privacy. One way or another.

.o.

Harry had been pulled into questioning by the Aurors shortly after breakfast. The Auror that questioned him was the same large black man from before, and despite his stature, he was kind to Harry throughout the interview that took place in an empty classroom in the dungeons. He identified himself as Kingsley Shacklebolt, and asked questions without an ounce of suspicion or accusations laced into his tone. The young boy gave the same story he gave the Headmaster down to the detail. He knew the stories would be cross-checked, and didn't allow a single detail to deviate.

By the time they were done, the large man sighed, and gave Harry a firm nod of his head, "That's all I need, son. Thank you for your cooperation."

Harry offered a nod of his head and took his dismissal for what it was. Exiting back into the dungeons, Harry felt a slight bit of exhilaration that he had pulled off the lie. He had fooled the Headmaster and the Aurors. Perhaps his story had not been 100% believed, but regardless, he had not been arrested, and he still lived to tell the tale. It was nothing short of a miracle.

Tom will be proud. Harry thought, and immediately frowned. Doing anything that would make the future Voldemort proud wasn't a good thing. The man had killed scores of witches and wizards, his own parents included. Everyone was afraid of him. No one challenged him.

That's real power. A voice whispered to Harry. A tightening in Harry's throat told the boy everything he needed to know. It was something he desperately wanted. To be left alone. To be left unchallenged. Ever since he had arrived at Hogwarts, there was one obstacle after another in his path. Some he had removed, and others just became more of a hindrance.

It wasn't that he necessarily needed to remove all of his obstacles with brute force, but to have the ability to do so was an attractive option. Tom could teach him to clear out the things that stood in his way of peace. Voldemort had certainly done so, and while Harry didn't approve of the way the monster had gone about it, he wouldn't mind teaching a few of his more vocal housemates a lesson or two.

Before he could arrive at the Slytherin Common Room, he felt himself grabbed by two sets of strong hands, and yanked into an empty hallway. He fought against the grip immediately, but found himself being hit by a stinging hex in his already damaged ribs.

Crying out in pain, he was tossed into what appeared to be an abandoned classroom, and quickly went for his wand to try and defend himself. Before his wand could cast a single spell, it went flying out of his hands, and one of his normal tormentors, Marcus Flint, stood in the lead, catching the wand with an outstretched hand. Glancing at the dark haired teen Harry felt a fire of fury erupt in his stomach. He dared not to move, however as his eyes glanced at Flint's usual lackeys, Graham Montague and Lucian Bole, both members of the Slytherin Quidditch Team.

"Flint." Harry spat, "What can I do for you?"

"Saying my name with a little more reverence while I have you at wand point would be a good place to start." The boy said with a malicious smile forming on his face, "The only reason you are still conscious is because of my good mercy."

The two teens behind Marcus just smirked at Harry, while the younger boy desperately wished he had not been caught up in his thoughts. He didn't like his chance against the older boy, but to not even be able to trade spells in his defense stung his pride.

"What do you want?" Harry growled out like a threatened, cornered, animal.

"The truth." Flint said simply, "Who was the heir of Slytherin? Who opened the Chamber of Secrets?"

Looking from Flint, to Bole, to Montague, a devious decision gnawed at his conscience. A terrible scenario ran through his mind, and it was risky, but he was a Slytherin. The hat had chosen him to be in the house of the cunning for a reason. He needed to prove it. Moments earlier he felt cornered, but as his mind raced through the scenario in his head, desperation clawed its way to the front. He could do this. He had fooled one of the greatest wizards of all time, and the Aurors, he could best these fools in a battle of wits. Attempting to copy the menacing smile that Tom had given him yesterday after triumphing over him, Harry shrugged, "I did of course. You think it a mere coincidence that a parselmouth arrives at the school, and then the Chamber of Secrets opens? I am the heir of Slytherin."

Flint faltered under the words, and both teens behind him had their eyes widening in surprise, while Harry casually took a step forward closer to Flint, and to the young boys' surprise, Flint stepped back. It was a powerful feeling, but a bluff at best as Harry held the fake smile, "Oh yes, Flint. It was I that opened the chamber back on Halloween, and unleashed Slytherin's monster."

The word felt foul in his mouth, but he knew the alternative was something massively unpleasant. These boys had roughed him up before, but due to the witnesses, and the prefects around, they had never pushed too far. In this abandoned classroom, he could imagine the harm they could cause him. He had to prove his cunning if he wanted to make it out of this unharmed. Montague was the next to speak, "You're lying."

The words came out in uncertainty and Harry scoffed, pushing his lie further, "I have to admit it took me some time to learn to control the monster. Mrs. Norris, Granger, and little Finch-Fletchley did survive after all."

Taking another step forward, he watched as all three teens took a step backward instinctively and Harry felt a rush of power course through him, "But even after I was caught at the scene of every crime, I managed to lie my way out of it. Dumbledore thought I was innocent, and our Head of House knew a second year would be incapable of producing such dark magic. He was right of course, but only because he was looking in the wrong direction."

"Impossible." Bole said, but he looked as unsure as he sounded, "The Headmaster said you helped identify the heir."

"Oh, I did." Harry said with fake happiness, "I framed a little Gryffindor that shall not yet be revealed yet. The details are unimportant…what is more important is what I do with all of you now?"

Flint's hand shook now, but seemed to find a semblance of his bravery, "Yeah, tough guy? We have your wand. What are you going to do?"

"Suffer at your hand undoubtedly." Harry said cheerfully, "It wouldn't be the first time now, would it? May I give you a suggestion though?"

Harry took a much larger, dangerous step forward, and placed Flint's wand against his own neck, as he spat, "You better kill me, because when I get out of the hospital wing, my new familiar will come and visit your dormitory, extracting revenge on behalf of its new master."

This last part was hissed out, but the threat was clear despite speaking it in parseltongue. Flint lowered his wand immediately, looking paler than Harry had ever seen him. Holding out his own hand expectantly he watched as the sixth year deposited his wand back in his hand, and Harry growled out, "If a word of this gets out to a single person in our house, you will all be left to rot in the Chamber of Secrets forever."

Swallowing hard, Flint just nodded his head, while the other two still looked at Harry disbelievingly. Frowning at the pair, Harry addressed them, "You two are not to treat me any differently. If you idiots started being nice all of a sudden it would raise suspicions. I won't tolerate any outright attacks, but just know I may go to Azkaban for what I did, if any one of you runs your mouths, but I will ensure it's the last thing you ever do. Understood?"

None of them moved a muscle, and Harry frowned, wondering if he pushed too far. Doubling down, he growled out, "I asked if you understand?"

Flint was the first to nod, perhaps, because he was the closest. Shortly after Montague and Bole followed with their own nods, while Harry just accepted this by turning on his heel, his wand in hand, and departing the room, with a slam of the door behind him.

His eyes widened, and his thundering heart rate increased to the point it began to hurt. Looking around quickly, he searched for somewhere to hide, and he scurried in the direction of another abandoned classroom. As soon as he pushed through the door in front of him, he closed it and slumped to the ground.

That was close. Harry thought as he put his hand on his chest, hoping his deep breaths would calm him, but instead it felt like he was hyperventilating. Closing his eyes now, Harry whispered to himself, "It's okay. You did it. They bought it. Just a few more days and I will be out."

Thoughts of returning to the Durselys filled him with dread, but he knew it was better than what awaited him if the Slytherins found out he was lying, and they would find out. One way or the other, the truth would come out, before that happens, he would need to be ready.

Thinking about Tom, Harry hoped the man had been sincere in offering to train Harry. He was unsure what form it would take, or what the man's motivation was, but it became apparent that he needed the help. Snape wouldn't give it to him. Dumbledore wouldn't give it to him, and he didn't have a single ally in the whole of his house. Tom was his only hope. The man who murdered his parents was his only chance.

.o.

"You think he was being honest?" Bole asked when the door closed behind Potter, and a few moments passed.

"Fuck, I don't know!" Flint said shakily.

"All the Weasleys were gone for breakfast. No one has seen them since last night." Montague muttered.

"But Potter? The Heir of Slytherin? He is nothing. He has always been nothing." Flint spat.

"If he does control Slytherin's monster, then it doesn't matter if he is nothing." Bole countered, "A monster that has lived for a thousand years has to be something to behold. Something that can petrify people at a whim can only be a few creatures, and obviously it is some type of snake since Potter can control it."

"What do we do?" Montague asked quietly.

The trio sat quietly for a few moments before Flint sighed, "What can we do? If we piss off Potter again, we better finish the job, because the look on his face told me we won't be getting any mercy if he survives."

"He can't keep using the monster." Bole said quickly, "If he does, the school will shut down, and he may not even be able to see it again."

"The Headmaster said that there shouldn't be any further attacks now that the heir was gone. Potter wouldn't risk it this close to the end of the year unless we forced his hand." Montague said, "Let's take the Summer to think about this, and decide on something when we come back. Maybe we just have to leave the little bastard alone for now."

Growling Flint shook his head, "He enjoyed trying to scare the shit out of us. We can't let that stand."

"Are you prepared to kill him?" Bole countered, "Because you better be if he really does control Slytherins' Monster."

"I will do what I have to do when the time comes." Flint shot back and turned to exit the room immediately.

Bole and Montague exchanged solemn looks. Marcus had a real distaste for Potter ever since the boy's first year. They both knew their friend was unlikely to let it lie. They could only hope their Quidditch Captain wouldn't do anything stupid that would get himself or them killed.

(A/N) Do not doubt Harry's place in Slytherin. This lonely boy is a lot like the Tom we read about in Canon. His childhood has shaped him, and now he is going to have a firm hand to guide him. You can read the next chapter on Pat(reon) OrionB15 for 1$, and receive an update every Tuesday if you subscribe. My Discord will also release FREE advanced content for those who do not wish to pay for any content. Discord will receive one bonus update a month, so for now it is about the same, but as the months go on they will get further and further ahead.

As for Fanfiction every other Tuesday is your update schedule, and my other story Dreams of Home is updated every week now that it is complete. I will adopt a similar strategy with this story, but I am easily over a year away from completing this one, and expect it to be quite long. That is all I have for this week. Cheers!

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