Much of what Albus said was lost as Tom knew he was spiralling- disassociating, actually, but he couldn't explain it out loud. His occulemency shields had slammed back into place like a red blaring alarm going off in his head and Albus wanted more from him- a better concrete way to prove who he was, and how he was here, but Tom didn't even know where here was, outside of Hogwarts.
Albus retrieved a copy of the Prophet from somewhere within his robes, which showed Tom that it was still the same day- the same balmy July afternoon, and that was when he truly began retreating into his own head, walls up and crowding him, suffocating, as Albus, this Albus, dithered, trying to get Tom to speak more. It was almost like Tom's brain knew what was going on, the pieces were all dangling right there in the front, but something was shielding his mind from connecting the dots, because if he connected them, if he understood, somehow he knew he'd collapse or start screaming and not stop.
"Gringotts." He said suddenly, sharply, louder than was probably necessary, making himself wince, Albus was looking at him like he was mad and he cleared his throat, his brain slowly chugging to life. "I could do a Blood Test at Gringotts."
Albus's lips were pressed into a thin line like he was going to object, but slowly nodded. "I- yes… The goblins are nothing if not discrete."
Tom felt like he should be picking some clue up off that, but his brain had put blinders on, if he could ignore it just then it was probably for the best- if he froze, if he sank into his mind and stopped moving, he didn't know when or if he could resume, so it was best to stay in motion, moving- acting. Albus had turned, finally releasing his grip, one of his hands still grasping at Tom's sleeve like he couldn't believe he was there, and the Gargoyle politely stepped to the side for the Headmaster.
The archway slid open and the men took the steps two at a time, the rotating stairwell not fast enough for either of them. Like the Slytherin Common Room and the Department of Mysteries, everything was so close to how he remembered it, but off ever so slightly. Little things- the crystal ball set Tom had gotten Albus the Christmas prior was missing- it was a joke as it wasn't a real crystal ball, but rather had been charmed as a means of communication. Books and instruments that Tom had grown up seeing on familiar shelves were missing from their place, replaced with unfamiliar objects.
They did not linger long. Albus threw floo powder into the fireplace that was barely burning, given the blazing summer heat, but the flames roared when the powder made contact and Albus paused, a silent request (or perhaps demand) that Tom step through first. Tom obliged him.
"The Leaky Cauldron!" Tom said, sharply, remaining still as the floo whisked him away. He stepped out immediately, nary a hair out of place, the familiar sensation of the pub's stone floor under his feet and cleared the way for Albus to follow.
He moved through the pub, not pausing to wait for the headmaster, certain he was on his heels the moment the elder man was through the floo and instead slipped out the back and to the brick wall in the alley. Albus was behind him, dogging his steps, watching him like a hawk and Tom hadn't felt that stare since he was a boy. Since he was a student. It felt familiar but chilling. So very unlike the Albus he knew up until that very morning.
He tapped the bricks and only waited long enough for them to begin twisting before he slipped between them as soon as the opening was large enough to clear, impatience in his hurried gait.
They were all but running and Tom was glad that Albus was nearly as tall as he- if it had been anyone else Tom would have been too quick, given his unusual height, but he didn't dare slow down, didn't dare allow his gaze to sweep along the shops, he knew if he saw any differences it would have ground him to a halt and any stagnancy might lead to a very public mental breakdown.
If he could make it to Gringotts and have one in the office of a goblin, then that somehow felt more safe. He didn't know why, but it did. Maybe because one of his earliest mental bouts of disassociation had happened there, back as a teen, but it felt safe, even safer than Hogwarts. Less personal and immediately intimidating.
He skipped half the steps and twisted to easily clear past bodies moving through the doors and thankfully, there was at least one teller immediately available, or Tom would have shoved past whoever was in line to get to them.
"Who is the bank manager?" He asked harshly, nearly slamming to a halt at the teller. It wasn't a goblin he recognized, not that he claimed to know them all, but about half the time they looked familiar. He only knew a few of their names, Wryrx was his account manager, but he didn't always have to speak to him directly just to withdraw or transfer funds.
"I am certain I can assist you-" The goblin said, sounding both annoyed and bored at the same time, but Tom's patience was razor thin and he was barely keeping it together, a string pulled taught and ready to snap, so instead he slammed his right hand on the teller counter, not loud enough to cause a scene, but enough to make to goblin's ears twitch in irritation.
"It is of utmost importance," Tom cut in and felt no small sense of satisfaction at the way the goblin's eyes slowly widened at the sight of the Slytherin signet ring on his ring finger.
"I shall fetch him," The goblin instead said curtly, hopping off his stool and disappearing behind the row of tellers.
"Was that necessary?" Albus asked from his left and Tom glanced over at him out of his eyes.
"Yes," he gritted out, instead, "The faster I'm in one of their offices, the better," he snapped out, all of the hair still standing on end, he felt again like a coiled snake, hissing in warning.
Albus only hummed a response, perhaps picking up on the implied so I don't have a complete panic attack in the lobby of Gringotts, but the goblin was back, quicker than Tom honestly had expected. "This way, my lord."
Ulkras was already sitting at his desk in the same office that Tom remembered and once again he resisted the urge to completely sag with fucking relief upon seeing the goblin because if Albus didn't know him, if the teller seemed surprised by his ring… And Ulkras, looking at him with the same keen observing gaze he'd turned on Tom when he'd been in here with the Chadwicks, then- he knew the goblin didn't know him, but once the door was closed he felt the pressure dissipate, just a hair.
Less magic poured over him here, less noise and stimulation, his skin settled and he took one deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth, only vaguely aware that Ulkras and Albus were exchanging words.
"Tom?"
Tom realized he'd been pinching the bridge of his nose again while he focused on his breathing. The headache had returned. He needed tea. He needed water. Food. Sleep. Instead, he stepped forward and held his palm out to the goblin who was looking him over and cataloguing every inch of him.
"Blood test," he bit out, "Please." He added, knowing that Ulkras had always appreciated that Tom and his children always observed nontraditional niceties with the goblins that many wizards and witches did not.
Sure enough, Ulkras's eyebrows rose up towards his hairline, his gaze twitching back to the Slytherin signet ring once more before leaning down to grab a new roll of parchment for an application and then forward to grab the red quill from its place. Then slowly, grasped the tip of his forefinger and pressed the quill to its skin and then pulled back almost immediately, as if Tom might lash out, eyes narrowed on him.
Once before when he was younger, Ulkras had watched him like a hawk, but with a look of curiosity, as if Tom was an overly smart animal who had done a funny trick and he wanted to see what else he could do. Now, it looked more like one predator trying to size up another to determine who would win if a battle came. Tom did not like it.
He allowed two drops of blood to hit the parchment before he withdrew. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and rubbed his finger on it, his eyes unfocusing once more as he dropped into one of the chairs in front of Ulkras's desk, both legs immediately bouncing with stress.
Neither of the other men in the room spoke and after a moment he allowed himself a glare over at them. Albus had moved forward and was peering over the top of Ulkras's desk, both staring at the parchment, eyes wide, eyes darting across the parchment as Tom's messy scrawling filled in the details.
"Extraordinary…" Albus said quietly, his eyes flittering over the parchment. Ulkras hadn't moved since Tom sat, his hands folded together in front of his mouth in thought.
"I'm only a bit curious this go round since I know at least what most of it should say," Tom said, almost laughing but it sounded too forced. "The first time I did this I watched the words spell it all out and Ulkras seemed to think it a fucking riot that he'd managed to nab the Heir to Slytherin into his back office from the lobby."
Both of the older men did look over to him then and Tom took a deep breath and looked up from where he was hunched over, his elbows resting on his knees. He sat up slightly and leaned forward, and the goblin gently pushed the parchment towards him.
It was true that just about all of it looked correct. But there, at the top near his personal vault number-
"Currently Unaccessible Due to Spatial and Temporal Constraints?" Tom demanded, the breath going out of him once more. "Jesus H. Christ."
He felt lightheaded, the room tilting slightly. He sank back into the chair, both his hands over his face. He was forcing himself to breathe in, count to four, then breathe out, count the rest to eight.
"I'm going to assume, Albus, that that's enough proof now, yes?" His voice sounded too high-pitched. He felt a hysterical laughter bubbling up the back of his throat and it came out sounding a bit like a wheeze.
"I can honestly say I have never seen that particular phrasing," Ulkras said, sounding like he was thinking about each word carefully before he said it. "Temporal? Yes. Spatial? That one is new."
Tom managed to get one leg to stop bouncing, but it increased the intensity of the other and he opted to ignore it instead. Later he'd consider the fact that Ulkras had apparently interacted with someone who had time travelled far enough that it would impact their ability to access a vault- that was a puzzle for future Tom. "I- I need to get home." He said quietly, looking to Albus, "I need to get back into the Department of Mysteries, the arch-"
"That will likely be a bit of a problem," Albus said, cutting him off and looking apologetic. "I am currently… on outs, as it were, with the Ministry. And without the utmost clearance, there is no way we'd be able to get you down there."
"On 'outs'?" Tom demanded, eyes narrowing, "How are you on outs- you're the bloody head of the Wizegmont!"
"It is… very complicated, to say the least." Albus sounded weary, his eyes sliding back to the Gringotts Bank Application that had been filled in by the Blood Test. "Very complicated."
"I'm sorry Albus but I fail to see how," he waved his hand with tremendous amounts of exasperation at the headmaster, "Whatever you have going on here could be more complicated than-" He paused as he looked back to the Blood Test, "Spatial and Temporal Constraints!"
Tom wasn't surprised that Ulkras had yet to move except to push the Blood Test over so Tom could read it, but it was here the goblin looked to Albus, waiting to see what he would say and Tom didn't like that.
"This may not be the space to have this particular discussion…" Albus said slowly, not looking to either of the men in the room, his gaze drifted towards the door and Tom scoffed loudly, drawing the Headmaster's attention back to him.
"If you won't help me then I will go to the Ministry myself," He snapped. While he doubted that was the best idea, it certainly was not his first, but if Albus himself was refusing to help him then he'd have to take his chances.
"I would not recommend that," Ulkras said, his gaze moving from Albus to Tom. "The Headmaster is not wrong that the current climate of the Wizarding Ministry is… tumultuous at best."
"And would either of you like to explain why?" Tom snapped, "What little patience I've had is at an end, Albus. I am not a student, I have been one of your staff for over forty years and you will speak to me like an equal or not at all." He honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd lost his temper with Albus. Likely before he'd become headmaster, before Tom had been employed by him. The man liked to play his cards close to the chest, his array of chest moves planned far in advance, but it was rarely to the detriment of those around him, so Tom had never felt the need to pry.
Albus seemed equally taken aback, and if Ulkras had an opinion, he kept it to himself, his face unchanged as he watched the exchange.
"Tom Riddle, the version of you who exists here," Albus started slowly before adding his addendum, "Did not become a Hogwarts Professor. His fate is unknown by the public at large, however, there are a few of us who remember him and know that he is the man behind our current… tumultuous climate." His heavy blue gaze looked to Ulkras in acknowledgement of borrowing his phrasing.
Tom pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes until he could see dots and colours. For some reason, it surprised him less than it should- less than the shock that he was in an entirely different reality than his own. Albus had told him once, in his seventh year, that Tom had reminded him of Grindlewald when he had been young, and that along with his ability to speak parseltongue had put the professor on edge, worried that Tom would follow a similar path. So, would it really be so very odd that in another world he had? He took another deep breath, rolling his neck. "On a scale of one to Gellert Grindlewald, how bad is it?" He finally asked.
The phrasing made the corner of Albus's lips twitch. "In Europe as a whole?" He asked instead, then shook his head, "Not nearly so widespread. It did not feed into a world war with the muggles, or work in conjunction, but locally? In the UK? Worse."
Tom felt his eyebrows twitch back up before sinking low again. "How the ever-loving fuck am I worse than Grindlewald?" Tom managed to spit out. "He was a Nazi."
He spied the faintest hint of a smirk tug at the corners of Albus's lips again and Tom raised a hand cutting the headmaster off, "Fine, this- this is going to be a long and involved conversation that I am going to need three things for-" He held up a finger, ticking the items off one by one, "Tea. Water. Food. Eventually sleep, but that can wait. Before that though, Ulkras, I have a question."
The goblin tilted his head, but his expression remained blank. With the knowledge that the Tom in this world was somehow worse than a Nazi it made sense, the blank slate, but it was still odd to see from the goblin who he usually was able to draw amusement from. He hoped he'd be able to do so with his request, at least.
Tom reached out and tapped two of his fingers on the scroll of parchment on the edge of the Goblin's desk. "This Blood Test does confirm I am Tom Riddle, Lord of Slytherin, and have access to the vaults listed here, on the paper, sans my personal one, which does not exist in this universe, correct?"
Ulkras, as cunning as he was, understood what Tom was asking for immediately and for the first time since this encounter had begun broke out into a familiar feral grin, his sharp teeth adding to the viciousness of it. "Oh yes, Lord Slytherin. That is correct."
"Call me Tom," He said instinctively, and Ulkras's eyes sharpened, and if anything his smile grew more feral. Tom found himself returning the look as he leaned forward towards th goblin slightly, "So there would be nothing amiss for you to escort me to my vaults, correct?"
"Of course not… Tom," Ulkras said, sounding like he was trying to hold back a deep cackle. Tom finally allowed a glance towards Albus, who was smiling as well. "I would be delighted to escort you and the Headmaster down there personally."
"Excellent."
While Ulkras retrieved his keys, Albus summoned his patronus and sent off a message to Severus and Minerva- Albus's versions. Tom's chest squeezed a bit, knowing that the ones he'd sent word to to meet him at the Headquarters, whatever that meant, were very different people than his.
God- he hoped Minnie didn't set fire to Albus's office when she found out what was going on.
Tom's keys were on a ring in his bag and he had to wonder if they would work- if this Tom had rekeyed them the same amount of times, if if if, but Ulkras assured him upon his return that if they did not work, then as the owner of the vault I could request a copy of the key should he wish it.
While he could not speak for Nazi Wizards, Tom kept the majority of the important things in the Slytherin Vault, which did not actually require a second key as all. It was sealed with Blood Magic. While much Blood Magic was considered Dark Magic and thus highly regulated, the Blood Wards that were used to seal some of the oldest vaults in Gringotts were grandfathered in, thankfully.
The cart took them down to some of the lowest sections in Gringotts, where the oldest of the family vaults were. The Perevell Vault was actually the oldest of the ones he had access to, not because the family line was older (though it was certainly possible), but rather it had taken some time for any of the Slytherin line to trust the goblins enough to open a vault in the first place.
As the cart screeched to a halt outside of the familiar landing, Tom turned to the goblin, "Would the… other me be informed that someone has access the Vault?" He asked, suddenly. He never received notifications if anyone who was approved for his, but if this Tom were paranoid enough he wouldn't put it past him.
Ulkras gave him another vicious and satisfied smile as he climbed out of the cart. "Why ever would I need to inform someone that they accessed their own vault?"
Tom was reminded why he loved working with Ulkras. He walked across the platform while Ulkras flipped through his key ring and went to the ornate pedestal with the large viper carved atop it, curled around a ceremonial dagger.
The first time he accessed the Slytherin Vault, when he became the first Lord to access it in several hundred years, he'd dramatically sliced his palm open and placed it over the Slytherin Crest, but he was older now and knew that was highly unnecessary. Instead he lifted the dagger to his forefinger on his left hand and pressed it gently to it, almost immediately drawing blood. He gently squeezed his finger, allowing a healthy amount of blood to well to the small cut and then reached forward and pressed it to the seal.
The seal hummed with magic, lighting up, and Tom pulled his finger away- the seal burned, hotter until the blood burned right off, or was absorbed into it, he honestly wasn't certain which it actually did- not that he thought any of the goblins would ever tell him. While it burned, Ulkras pushed his key into the other side of the door, and the doors opened in that heavy whirring fashion that all of the older vaults seemed to possess.
Tom knew this vault well. Theon and Chadwick had helped him over two years catalogue everything and put it and the other vaults back to order, so he wasn't surprised when the vault inside did not look unlike it had when he'd first opened it as the Lord of Slytherin in his world. Whatever else that had changed, it was clear the Tom Riddle in this world had straightened out the treasury, at least. In a decent-sized alcove immediately into the vault to the right was the Slytherin Treasury Room. If he had truly begun to parse through any of the deeper parts of the vault though, it was hard to tell, since from the entrance it looked largely untouched.
Tom stepped inside, and Ulkras remained outside the vault, though Albus stood at the threshold peering inside. Tom grabbed several rolls of galleons from the shelves, some of them still covered in dust, and stashed them in his satchel, rows of platinum and gold and silver ingots were in the same places he remembered them being, untouched, as a back-up, an emergency should anything ever happened to the Slytherin Fortune.
He perhaps grabbed more than he needed, but if this version of him was a Dark Lord that compared in severity to Grindlewald, he didn't know if it would ever be safe for him to come back and attempt this a second time, so instead he threw caution to the wind and pocketed more than he'd hoped to need.
Worst come to worst he'd give it to Albus if he didn't need it.
"I can honestly say I never expected to see inside one of the founders' vaults," Albus said, looking a touch awestruck.
Tom looked over his shoulder and felt something squeeze in his stomach, "I would show you around, but when I took over I gutted the place and organized it properly so I wouldn't actually know where anything is in here- I don't think he's touched the interior, just the treasury."
"It is still an extraordinary sight-" Albus said wistfully. "There must be much in here, just left and forgotten."
"Well, I'd try and locate Adela's grimoires, but it would likely take too long…" Tom said, his mind wandering as he tried to remember where they had been located. Many of the books were stuffed haphazardly through the vault before he'd reorganized it, and while he knew wha some of them looked like from the outside, he couldn't recall if he knew their original location. "And they're enchanted so they cannot leave the vault."
"Adela?" Albus asked.
"Salazar's daughter," Tom explained, and Albus's eyes were filled with a familiar curiosity. "She was his only heir, which is why he allowed the bloodline to path through both male and female heirs. When she married her husband took her name and they did that for a few generations but then somewhere in there it disappeared."
Albus took a breath and Tom knew he wanted to dive in and find them, and perhaps if the other Tom wasn't a Nazi Dark Lord he'd have obliged the headmaster, but instead he put his hand on his shouler, grounding him.
"I can tell you what I remember, I've read most of them- the older ones were harder, obviously, with the dialect differences." He paused as he recalled pouring over the first sets of grimoires, "And she would switch in and out of Spanish in her notes constantly. It was a pain to translate."
Albus took a deep breath and nodded his head. "Yes, of course- thank you."
Tom nodded and headed back to Ulkras, feeling his blinders pulling back on- what little adrenaline had come back crashing, and he knew he needed to get somewhere and get something in him, food, water, whatever, before he finally crashed. The return was just as eventful as their descent, which was not at all, but unlike before when he was hyper-aware, now he barely paid attention.
After he climbed from the cart he closed his eyes, trying to ground himself- the only problem was that any resources he still might have access to in this world, the Dark version did as well, and he didn't want to run afoul of a Dark Lord type who then would have information about transporting through different realities
Why did his life always move towards complications, instead of away from them?
"I have a place for you to stay while we try and sort through this, especially since we will likely need to discover what exactly the divergent point was in… all of this-" Albus said, following Ulkras's lead back towards the elevator, past other wizards following goblins towards the carts, clearly not willing to discuss certain things around others.
Tom nodded his head numbly, following them onto the elevator. "The…" He paused trying to remember what Albus had said to his patronus, "Headquarters?" He asked and Albus raised a finger to his lips and Tom had to resist the urge to smack him.
"Ulkras, you have my sincere gratitude," Tom said, instead turning to the oldest but shortest member of the trio. The goblin's expression had gone back to neutral disinterest as Albus had spoke, but at Tom's words, he looked the wizard up and down before inclining his head.
"You are a peculiar wizard." The goblin finally said. "Despite what many assume, we remain a neutral party in wizarding affairs." It seemed to be a jab at Albus that Tom knew he would need to find out about later.
"Until it benefits you one way or the other. No insult intended," Tom added, "Magical creatures- wizards, goblins, centaurs, et cetera, are all the same in that they think exist in a bubble and are not impacted by the actions of others." Both Ulkras and Albus looked at him with similar expressions on their faces and Tom raised his eyebrows, "Do no deny it, you know it's true, wizards treat all of the sentient magic users as subpar and then goblins, in their rightful irritation at being treated less than try and exist separate from the system that they still use to economically fund their own society, waiting for the wizarding society to finally implode on itself so they can reap the benefits."
Ulkras's eyes bored into him and Tom's smile widened. It was a conversation he'd had at length with his Ulkras after the fall of Grindelwald.
"That is… very introspective," The goblin finally said. Albus nodded his head, a distant look in his eyes like he was seeing or remembering things from his past.
Tom was unable to keep his eyes from rolling upwards. "Everyone assumes that they have more insight than the rest." He tried to recall a quote that Morgan had quipped at him a couple times before. She often spoke in quotes of things he was then forced to learn about. "'Tolerance implies no lack of commitment to one's own beliefs. Rather it condemns the oppression or persecution the views of others.'" He finally said after a few moments.
Ulkras made a grunt of acknowledgement, his eyes narrowed. "If Tom Riddle should need assistance in accessing his vaults again, simply inform the teller you have business with me." Tom tilted his head in confusion, given Ulkras in his universe did not oversee his vaults, and surprisingly enough the goblin did offer an explanation. "I will not purposely put the goblins under my employ at the mercy and ire of a Dark Lord."
"Ah," Tom said and Albus touched a hand to Tom's elbow, withdrawing a pocketwatch from somewhere within his robes. "Of course. Thank you."
Ulkras did not deign to leave with a reply, instead turning on his heel and headed back towards his office, and Tom followed Albus's lead out through the door. "Where to then?"
"Here-" Albus said, grabbing Tom's elbow more firmly and pulling him to the side of the steps. "Number 12 Grimmauld Place is the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix." He leaned closer, whispering low enough that it took Tom a moment to process what he'd said.
"I'm sorry," Tom said, his brows furrowing in confusion, "the what?"
He didn't receive an answer, instead dug his nails into the sleeve of Albus's shirt as the headmaster apparated them off.
A/N: Tom is quoting JFK, though he mixed up a couple of words as you would when trying to recall something from memory. Buckle up mugglerfuckers we're OFF.
