Chapter 6

Thankfully after apparating twice a day with the older teen, Harry had become accustomed to the sensation. It was still not an enjoyable experience, and it always felt like he couldn't breathe for a moment, but he was surprised to see that this time when they arrived at their destination the area was swarming with people.

"Follow me, Harry." Tom commanded as they followed the crowd.

Looking around Harry observed several buildings that would not have looked out of place in Diagon Alley. The area they were in was older, and appeared to be some sort of shopping district. Ahead of Harry he observed a large stadium and looked at Tom questioningly, "A Quidditch Match?"

"Not quite." The older teen answered with a grin.

Carrying on Tom guided Harry through the crowd, and just by reading the shirts, jerseys, and apparel of the crowd he realized they must be in Falmouth. The dark gray and white apparel was something that Harry had seen on a few older students and he knew that a Falcons Quidditch game must be getting ready to start.

Never once had Tom expressed interest in Quidditch before, so Harry was confused about what their objective was, until he was pulled into a nearby alleyway where Tom took long purposeful strides towards a large man with his hands folded together.

The man must have been part giant with his size, and would not have looked out of place next to Hagrid, the groundskeeper at Hogwarts. The man's large hands appeared to be capable of immense strength, and his knuckles seemed to tell stories of battles fought and won. It was almost easy to overlook the largest wand Harry had ever seen in the man's hands, just due to their sheer size. A nervous feeling swept through Harry as he realized the man was just standing in front of a random brick wall and looked up to no good.

Tom greeted the man with a nod of his head before saying, "Pride of Portree."

Grunting, the large man stepped aside and touched the brick wall with his wand causing a large sliding door to appear. When the door opened loud music began playing, surprising Harry. His brows furrowed in thought, but he never had time to voice a question as Tom moved forward to enter the hidden establishment.

The music became louder and louder as they entered, while what Harry observed made his jaw drop. Wizards were not wearing their usual cloaks and high society attire, instead, some were wearing robes that appeared to be blended with the skin of magical beasts, while others were wearing plain muggle clothes. Many of the men were tattooed heavily, and wearing tank tops to show off muscles, or ink.

The women were mostly wearing clothes and attire that would've made his aunt Petunia blush or faint, depending on which witch her eyes fell upon first. Some were wearing skimpy tank tops and shorts that would've given Professor McGonagall a heart attack. Others were wearing robes that were cut up in some type of fashion design.

These strangely dressed people only held Harry's attention for a split second however as the main entertainment had enraptured him. Two wizards were fiercely locked in a duel inside of what appeared to be a large metal cage. Back and forth the two exchanged rapid-fire spells, both perspiring greatly.

A hand on Harry's shoulder brought him back to reality, as Tom jerked his hand in the direction of the stands. Pulling his attention back to his guide Harry followed his mentor closer and closer to the front rows of the dueling. Harry nearly jumped back when one of the duelists in the middle was thrown towards the wall viciously and slumped to the ground unconscious.

The cheers and jeers for the duelist were immense and Harry just watched in awe as Tom took a seat at a booth that was on the ground level. Their booth could easily have sat six to eight people, but when Harry sat opposite of his magical mentor he observed that the other booths were filled with occupants. The booths on both sides of them held some sleazy-looking wizards who were each talking excitedly to fierce-looking men. Each table seemed to have one in their group that looked hardened, or criminal, making Harry wonder what their purpose was here.

The sleazy-looking wizards were talking with some type of privacy ward up between them, and they continuously glanced at Harry and Tom as they took their seats. When the two took their places and sat comfortably, Tom gently flourished his wand causing the familiar buzzing sound that the teen created when he tortured Vernon in the driveway.

"What do you think?" Tom asked with amusement, clearly reading into Harry's bewildered expression.

"This place is amazing." Harry said in fascination as he observed the rest of the front row around the arena. If he had to guess there were half-breeds among them. Some were paler than the moon, and Harry had read a book on vampires in his study time over the Summer, so he was confident he had ID'd them successfully. He also saw some large hairy men that were eying Harry like a victim, and when one flashed a toothy grin towards him he knew he was looking at a werewolf. Lastly were these unnaturally beautiful women walking around serving drinks. Harry felt flutters in his stomach looking at each of them, and his eyes followed a more scantily clad one.

Tom clapped Harry on the shoulder hard, snapping him back to reality, "Careful to not accept anything from these women, Harry. They are veela, and they can use their charms to make you more susceptible to their suggestions. In a place like this, they are likely to swindle you for everything you own."

"Where exactly are we?" Harry asked in wonder, now eying the women more cautiously.

"The underground dueling circuit in Falmouth. I trained here in my youth. Before anyone knew me as Lord Voldemort. Not just here, but many places like it." Tom confessed, "I suspect I even ventured onto the continent to find better competition when I graduated. In time I expect you to compete at a level like this."

Harry watched as the man who had won the previous duel remained in the caged area while another wizard stepped forward to meet him. Soon the two were in a deadly dance trying to take down the other. Harry gaped when one of the men had his arm sliced off with a lethal-looking cutting curse much to the delight of the crowd, "That can't be legal."

With a shake of his head, Snorting Tom remarked, "Virtually everything here is against the law. The duelists are instructed to refrain from casting any spells that could be considered lethal, but aside from that, they are free to use any magic or abilities at their disposal. Have you noticed the other half-breeds wandering around here?"

"Vampires and werewolves." Harry answered in agreement.

"Yes, and an occasional half-giant as well. You saw the one at the door? I suspect he is a normal competitor who was offered a more stable position with whoever sets this circuit up." Tom advised.

"How do the Aurors allow this?" Harry asked.

"They don't." Tom answered simply, "The dueling nights are always held when Falmouth has a home game, so it's easy to slip away from the crowds trying to get into the stadium. Every Auror stationed in the area will be working closer to the game, and will pay less attention to a place like this. The password as you may have guessed is always Falmouth's opponent for the evening. Clever is it not?"

"Very." Harry answered in an impressed tone.

"The underground Wizarding World is a fascinating if not dangerous place. In our time together I will certainly teach you how to operate it. There may come a time when we need dangerous allies, or dangerous magical ingredients, this is where we will come to find them." Tom explained.

In understanding and a tinge of excitement, Harry merely nodded his head and continued his look around. There had to have been at least a few hundred people around the arena. The front row of booths seemed to occupy a certain type of witch, wizard, or beast though. All had the same rugged criminal-looking type, and Harry realized that Tom and himself stood out.

Swallowing nervously Harry asked, "How exactly did we get these seats? I expect they would require a lot of galleons?"

"Oh you misunderstand, Harry." Tom responded with a grin that promised something sinister, "This front row is not for customers, but competitors."

His stomach sank at the proclamation, and Tom chuckled openly at his discomfort, "Oh no, you are certainly not ready for that, and we do have a ritual to perform later. No this is for my own practice, and your entertainment. I plan to win us some galleons today, and show you where I expect your studies to lead you. I do after all need to lead my apprentice by example."

The discomfort fell away in an instant and Harry became excited at the prospect. Watching Tom work his magic was always something to behold. Now he was going to get to see it in a real display of someone that might actually make him work for a victory. The prospect of seeing a young Lord Voldemort fight in his prime was strangely thrilling. Olivander had even told Harry the day he received his wand that the Dark Lord had done great, but terrible things. Something Harry was most interested to see in real-time.

When one of the Veela waitresses came up Harry remained silent after a look from Tom as he removed their privacy ward and addressed the woman with a forced smile. The woman asked, "Any bets for the evening?"

Tom offered a fake chuckle, pulling out a large pouch and placing it on the table, "I have tried to talk my friend here out of it, but he would like to place fifty galleons on me to win the gauntlet for the evening. He has had a bit too much to drink, but I can't talk him out of it."

The woman's eyes fell upon Harry, and he just swallowed and offered her a grin, trying not to allow any words to spill from his mouth. He knew anything he would say to the beautiful woman would just embarrass him, and possibly Tom, who Harry knew would not tolerate such a slight.

Flipping her platinum hair over her shoulder she offered Harry a dazzling smile, "Okay there high roller. Can I get you anything else for you or your friend here? Fifty galleons can surely go far in a place like this."

When the Veela offered him a wink at her final words Harry nearly swallowed his tongue, but he felt the eyes of his mentor on him and he managed to choke out, "Nothing for me, thanks."

"Forgive him, he is the shy type." Tom said with a laugh.

"I like the shy types." The Veela said, looking him up and down one last time before accepting the pouch and moving on.

A soft stinging hex hit him on the thigh causing Harry to flinch at the pain, but Tom just shook his head, "Next time I expect their influence will be shaken off a little easier. If we are to make progress on your occlumency shields I doubt they will be able to fluster you so easily. You are awfully young to be falling for pleasures of the flesh, Harry."

It took him a few moments of bewilderment to realize that Tom had in fact just pulled a trick on him, "You did that on purpose."

"Oh yes, and it was quite amusing. I thought you might get up and profess your love for the woman. I am moderately impressed you did not." Tom said amusedly.

"Fifty galleons on the gauntlet?" Harry asked, "How do you win?"

"Easily." Tom said with a shrug, "A gauntlet consists of five wins. The first two wizards to reach four will fight for the 'gauntlet.' When we win tonight I suspect we will be quite a few galleons richer."

One of the wizards on the ground level waved to get their attention and Tom nodded, rising to his feet saying, "Now I believe my turn is approaching. Watch and learn, young one."

Harry nodded leaning forward onto the table as Tom approached one of the wizards on the side of the caged area, and received a nod of confirmation after exchanging just a few words. Harry's eyes hardly left his magical mentor as he realized he was alone in a rather dangerous place, but the disguised teen offered him a nod of reassurance, which put Harry at ease temporarily.

His eyes observed the others on the first row, and many others who were looking at Tom as if he were a dead man walking. They had no idea who was about to step into the ring for the first time in probably forty years at least. Harry wished he had more galleons to put on the man, because it seemed there would be no shortage of those who would bet against him as some openly jeered him.

Scoffing Harry knew they would all tremble before Tom if they knew his true identity. Instead of feeling displeasure however, Harry just continued to feel anticipation. He watched as the duelist he had observed before finally triumphed in his third duel while still looking relatively healthy.

The man was certainly larger than the average wizard, but was nothing in comparison to the half-giant Harry had seen earlier. From what he had seen so far the wizard was moderately powerful however, and seemed to be a crowd favorite.

The cage opened up and the wizard was allowed a short break while the commentator announced that the Harbinger of Falmouth was already 4-0 for the evening, and was looking to complete the gauntlet after a short break. This would allow a contender to attempt to rise up from the bottom, while also giving the crowd favorite a break. When the newcomer The Ominous Riddle was announced it was met with a study chorus of boos and jeers.

Harry had to prevent himself from snorting at the play on his mentor's name. It was rather clever, and the newly minted teen wondered if it was the same name he had used in his younger years.

When Tom had been called he apparated onto the stage with ease, and put his hands behind his back looking quite bored with the occasion. In turn the announcer called the name of a werewolf that launched himself onto the stage and landed with a thud. A showy flourish of the man's wrist displayed his wand, but Tom merely left his hands behind his back watching the beasts with a smirk.

A long bearded referee came into the cage and inspected both competitors before offering a nod towards the announcer booth who called out, "We have received the go ahead from our favorite referee, and the countdown is on now."

As the bell rang, Harry witnessed a whip materialize from Tom's wand. However, what intrigued him was the whip's distinctive feature: it was barbed with silvery wire that resembled sharp spikes. Oblivious to this detail, the werewolf surged forward, firing a red hex toward Tom. Unmoved, Tom lazily turned his head, effortlessly dodging the spell. With a flick of his wrist, he lashed out, striking the half-breed in the chest with the barbed whip.

The speed at which Tom struck left little time for the beast to block his strike, and the creature howled in pain as it was struck. Blood fell from the wound inflicted, and the crowd went silent as the whip had separated from the wand, and turned into some type of rope that had now wrapped itself around the creature that struggled against its binds. Lazily the young Dark Lord pushed his wand in a downward direction making the creature fall to his knees as the silver whip seemed to tighten around the man making him turn an interesting shade of purple and blue.

The referee immediately charged back into the middle and demanded Tom to release his spell. With a shrug, the man did so, and the werewolf fell to the ground grabbing at the wound, certainly leaving a scar across his face. Tom sneered at his opponent, before offering a smile and waving at the crowd who applauded softly. Some seemed impressed, while most seemed to think Tom had been lucky.

Shaking his head Harry knew these witches and wizards had no idea what they were up against. Even at a fraction of his true power, Tom was likely one of the most powerful wizards in Britain.

A call for the next opponent was made, and a dark-skinned wizard took to the caged arena. The man had a serious expression on his face, and Tom offered him a dangerous smirk that Harry knew promised pain.

This wizard attempted to fight Tom with speed, but it was laughable. Tom didn't even raise his wand for the first five curses as he maneuvered around each spell with ease. When Tom took his turn to fight back it was blindingly fast. A dozen curses flew from his wand in seconds and his opponent appeared mangled, and began coughing up blood.

Harry's eyes widened at the state of the man. At the least, the dark-skinned man had broken ribs, and an arm. The way his teeth were falling out made Harry think it was likely something more insidious. The duel was quickly called in Tom's favor.

The crowd was booing again, and clearly wanting more of a show. The commentator even announced, "Well that won't make him a crowd favorite. Ominous is clearly a powerful contender, but he does not have the flashy showmanship necessary to gain the love of the people."

Red eyes flashed in annoyance, and Harry gulped feeling the fury of Tom. He hoped his mentor was not about to start striking people down in the stands, when suddenly the man just nodded as if he had made up his mind about something. Cautiously Harry watched as the vampire he had seen earlier made his way to the stage.

Tom looked disgusted by his opponent, but said nothing as the match began. The vampire was the fastest thing he had ever seen. He was near a blur, but before he could reach the young Dark Lord, he was frozen in place.

Wandlessly Tom had reached out and stopped the man in mid-motion as if freezing him time. With one hand Tom held the creature in place, and with his wand, he began conjuring snakes that launched themselves the vampire in attack mode. Harry was not surprised the man had chosen snakes, but then when he didn't use parseltongue to command them the teen wondered what his plans were.

A blasting hex sent the vampire backward into the steel cage, and the snakes ferociously latched themselves onto the dark creature. With a roar of rage, the vampire ripped two in half at once, showering himself in gore, but Tom had swirled his wand making the blood flow through the air. With a show of immense control, Tom then forced the blood towards the charging vampire, and began shoving it down its throat. After a moment it was clear Tom was trying to suffocate the vampire with the blood of his conjured snakes, making Harry's eyes widen, and the crowd began chattering nervously.

Before the referee could call the match, the vampire fell to his knees, and Tom lashed out with his wand knocking the creature against the cage with impossible force. When the vampire hit the ground the blood from before began leaking out of its mouth and the creature was either unconscious or dead.

Shaking his head Tom shoved his wand into a sleeve looking quite bored, and completely unphased by his duels so far. The older teen turned to his apprentice and offered him a smirk. Clearly, the Dark Lord felt like he was in his element, and Harry just clapped slowly showing his appreciation of the feats of magic.

Thus far the man had not shown any incredible display of magic. His speed was unreal, but his spell choice was nothing that anyone could not do. Most of the spells Tom had used so far other than the transfiguration of the whip and the control of the blood Harry could do himself. It was the point of the exercise Harry realized, and when a monster of a man stepped onto the platform the younger teen knew it was about to get interesting.

The behemoth was clearly half-giant, and by the looks of him, likely a relative of the bouncer they had met at the door. Apprehensively Harry watched as Tom sized the creature up, before nodding resolutely.

When this duel started people were screaming their cheers for the half-giant. It was clear that the crowd found Tom arrogant, and wanted him put in his place, but there wasn't even a chance for the half-giant.

Tonto, was the name of the half-giant, and it started the fight by charging towards Tom. Shaking his head, Harry knew they would never learn. A blasting curse the like Harry had never seen left his mentor's wand, and rocked Tonto all the way back to the other side of the cage bouncing off the wall. The spell may have shaken the large man, but that didn't stop him from coming back for more. This time Tom didn't move an inch, before apparating at the very last second causing the giant to slam into the cage.

When Tom arrived on the other side of the platform he immediately released a barrage of high-impact spells. Each spell that struck the man was clearly doing its damage despite half-giants being spell resistant. Each curse spoke of Tom's power and it became apparent that the giant was becoming more and more enraged.

Regardless Tom apparated around the arena, toying with the large man, his grin just widening as the fight went on. Harry understood immediately that Tom had found an opponent he was enjoying. As this round went on the crowd was beginning to cheer for both contenders now as the fight prolonged and became more interesting.

Tom took a massive advantage however when he sent two piercing hexes through the giant's legs knocking him to the floor. Blood sprayed the arena floor, and the giant roared with pain. Finally attempting to use his massive wand he flicked it at Tom, but the younger man just slapped the curse right back at him, and whatever it was it couldn't have been pleasant as the wails of pain increased.

With ease, Tom disarmed the half-giant, and began flicking his wand in different directions. Metal cords came flying towards the giant wrapping around each of his appendages, and in a matter of seconds, a web of metal rods tied the giant to the ground, holding him in place despite his flailing limbs.

The referee came back on the stage with wide eyes and declared Tom the victor, allowing the man to disarm his own creations, and releasing the half-giant from captivity. When the giant stood up Tom called out to the creature, and exchanged words with the beast. Harry wished he knew what the man said, but in the end, Tonto just nodded, and was helped off the stage by the bouncer that had come out to help.

As the half-giant was escorted out people had begun chanting Ominous and Harbinger begging for the end to the gauntlet. Harry was grinning at the change in the crowd as they now seemed charmed by the flippant magical talent.

Harry observed Tom's final opponent and noticed the man did not look as confident as before. Whatever the man had hoped to accomplish here tonight was about to be foiled by a once-in-a-generation wizard. The crowd was only starting to realize that and Harry was amazed by the work that had been done in the arena, despite the violence and blood that was shed. Tom could have easily killed any of his opponents, but Harry saw that the man was more than capable of defeating them without taking their lives. It was awe-inspiring.

When the final matchup took place Harry knew what the outcome would be. Regardless, the wizard Tom faced was not without talent. He was fast and skilled at escaping trick situations. Tom however was on the man from the get-go. For the first time that evening, his mentor took the offensive, and he was a blur of offensive magic. Unlike Tom's other opponents, this one was capable of apparating and applied it well in combat.

The Harbinger appeared to be in his thirties, and Harry heard the man speak a few taunting words before the match started, and the accent led the young teen to believe he was not English. The man was arrogant though, of that there was no doubt. Perhaps against a lesser wizard, he may have had a better chance.

Despite facing an onslaught of spells, Tom, a wizard of considerable prowess, displayed remarkable agility and precision in deflecting them. His spells were swift and incisive, showcasing his impressive magical prowess. While Harry anticipated that the older teen would soon conclude the duel victoriously, the crowd erupted in cheers as an unexpected turn of events unfolded. The Harbinger materialized right before Tom and delivered a resounding punch, reminiscent of a Muggle fight, knocking Tom backwards.

Harry's heart skipped a beat, and the air in the room seemed to freeze. Harbinger seemed to think he was about to have Tom on the ropes, but the young Dark Lord had hardly even recoiled under the force of the strike. Instead, Tom's eyes turned red, and he lifted his hand towards Harbinger who immediately shot both of his towards his throat.

It was quickly realized that Tom was choking the life out of his opponent as he began to slump under the force of the magical choking, and dropped his wand in defeat. The referee was jumping onto the stage trying to call the match, but Tom held him a little longer, before rearing back with his free hand and punching the air. A whoosh was heard in the arena and the barely conscious man seemed to be struck by an invisible force with the weight of a train behind it as his body hit the floor hard. When Harbinger's head thudded against the floor in a crack the gasp of the crowd told Harry all he needed to know. The man was dead.

.o.

Harry and Tom had returned to Gaunt Manor hundreds of galleons richer. Despite the solemn end to the night, the owner of the dueling circuit had approached the two wizards at their table before they departed. The man had delivered Tom's winnings personally and assured him that it was the price of business in the Wizarding Underworld. They had been warned that his friends might take it personally and come after Tom, but the Dark Lord assured the owner that they could handle themselves if anyone was foolish enough to pursue them.

As they approached the front door to the house a question had remained on Harry's mind that he hoped his mentor would answer, "Tom? Can I ask you something?"

"I would be a pretty poor mentor if I did not grant you the ability to ask questions, Harry." The man joked softly.

"What did you say to the half-giant when you beat him?" Harry asked.

"I congratulated him on a hard-fought match. I also told him that I might have use for a man of his talents, and that I would be in touch. It is good to make allies in all shapes and sizes, especially powerful ones." Tom advised carefully.

In understanding Harry nodded. He knew many in their world discriminated against half-breeds, but Tom was clearly not one of them and said so, "I know most would think me a bigot due to the flag I championed under, Harry, but it is not the truth. Muggleborns, half bloods, half-breeds, they all have their value. Anything with magical blood is of use. They all have their own power, and at the end of the day, that is all that matters. Look at us. Truly we are both half-bloods descending from old Wizarding families, and by the time you reach your majority, I would bet there will be few capable of standing up to you. As you can see none can stand up to me, and I am only at a fraction of my power."

Harry knew the man was right. Other than Dumbledore there were likely less than half a dozen wizards that could even stand up to Tom in his current form. The Dark Lord continued, "I wanted you to see those duels tonight because I wanted you to see what you could be capable of. I wanted you to see just what my magic, and my teachings could give you. Trust in me, and all the magical power in the world can be held in your hands."

The young wizard thought over his mentor's words carefully. He could only imagine the rush he could feel if he had conquered the dueling circuit like Tom had tonight. The power he could one day hold in his fingertips. He would never have to fear anyone else ever again. Not the Dursley's, not any of the older Slytherins, not even Dumbledore.

"We made an oath together, my master…I trust you." Harry said softly.

"Then I trust you are ready for your ritual? There is not much time left in your birthday. We should begin now." Tom commanded as he strode towards the front door to Gaunt Manor.

Harry followed closely behind feeling nervous, but ready for his first experience with ritualistic magic. He had done the research, and was more than prepared to execute his tasks.

When the two entered the living room, Tom flicked his wrist casually moving all the furniture to the corners of the room, and summoned a large pedestal that a crystal basin sat upon. The man eyed the basin carefully, then glanced at the nearby counter that held the potion, and all the necessary ingredients before offering Harry a sweeping gesture with his hand, "The floor is yours."

Nodding Harry apprehensively took his steps forward. Glancing at the bowl the teen swallowed hard before reaching for the potion and uncorking the vial. With a trembling hand, Harry clutched the vial, and glanced at Tom one last time. The man offered him a reassuring nod, and Harry leaned his head back, and threw the consequences to the wind as the potion touched the back of his throat. He felt like he was drinking straight ash, as the potion burned his throat.

A scent of decay passed through his nostrils and he seemed to hear whispers around the room. His blood also seemed to pulsate heavily in his veins as his senses dialed to eleven. As his heart pounded in his chest, each beat felt like a reminder of the life he was about to forsake. Taking the scrying tool on the counter Harry began to carve the magical symbols into the crystal basin. Runes that were long forgotten to the modern magical world followed Harry's carvings. Strength. Power. Youth. Resolve. Clarity.

When Harry finished he put his wand to his palm and sliced it open. Just like he had when Tom had convinced him to create the blood pact. With his own blood, he outlined the symbols he carved, and when he finished he was panting. It had taken more blood than he imagined, and the pain seemed sharper as each drop left his hand.

The finishing touches of the symbols were complete and a soft golden glow began to emanate from the runes. Harry knew the next part must be done quickly as he grabbed the remaining ingredients, and tossed them into the basin, before pointing his wand at the basin, and giving a final glance towards his mentor.

"You can do this, Harry. One last step." Tom said excitement clear in his voice.

This is my fate. Harry thought. My destiny.

"Incendio." Harry whispered.

As the fire leapt from his wand to the basin an agonized scream left his lungs. It felt like his body was being set on fire as a piece of his humanity slipped away like sand through his fingers. The power that coursed through him was deeply unnatural and saturated with darkness that felt like it was consuming him, filling a void that was once left by shattered hopes and dreams.

Despite the pain, there was a sense that he was no longer incomplete. While at first there had been an overwhelming sense of doom, there was now a strange feeling of acceptance. There was no escaping the path that he had started on now. With one final agonized scream Harry surrendered to the darkness, and allowed the pain to consume what was left of his mind. Then the world went black.

(A/N) So there are a couple things to note in this chapter. As we go on we will see the youth of Tom Riddle play a pretty big factor in this story. This version of the Heir of Slytherin is still trying to prove to the world his might and power, and as we saw in this chapter he is a bit of a show off. This is not without reason. Tom needs ground to stand on, and to do this he has to prove to his apprentice, and other potential followers that he has the power to lead people to greatness or victory. His older self had proved that over decades, this young Voldemort has yet to do so, which means we can expect some bolder moves from young Tom Riddle going forward.

If you want to read Chapter 8 for free, you can follow me on Discord for free at "The Hunters Lounge" or if you can't find the server, find me OrionB15 and I will share a link with you. If you want to read through Chapter 11 you can follow me on Pat(reon) for just 1$ and receive weekly updates. That is all for this week though, see you all on Christmas Eve!