Chapter Text
It wasn’t till after breakfast when Harry felt it. The portal—the rift between dimensions—opening up in their backyard, right next to the field of beautiful wildflowers that were determined to bloom every year, even with barely any help from the family.
(Well, that wasn’t true. Once they’d started growing, Harry had started taking care of them. Of course, Danny followed not long after, and then Lily had, and then Remus, and soon enough the entire family was out there taking care of the wildflowers every once in a while.)
(Help was a strong word for James and Sirius though, who mostly just watered them by having water balloon and water gun fights weekly.)
Even approaching the chilly month of November, and subsequently Sirius’ birthday on the third, the flowers were still in full bloom with help from a small weather spell from Harry. And another one from Lily. And a tried attempt (more of accidental magic than anything) from Danny. And Remus.
Anyways, back to the portal. Harry sat up straighter on the couch, grinning wildly at the realization of what the portal meant. He was being summoned.
Tom, who was leaning against Harry, also sunk deeply into the couch and slowly flipping through the pages of the second Harry Potter book, glanced over with a raised eyebrow. The sunlight created a soft glow of the room, perfect for spending a lazy morning lounging around.
Harry’s voice was barely a whisper of excitement. “I’m being summoned.”
Next to him, Tom froze. He still somehow inched his way closer to Harry, despite the fact they were already smushed against each other. (clinging tighter don’t let go or he’ll leave forever never come back you’re not worth it-) as if afraid Harry would just disappear from right under him. His voice came out just as quiet as Harry’s had been, though not for the same reason. “You’re what?”
Harry failed to notice Tom’s growing panic. “Merlin, it’s been years since I’ve been summoned! Last time was probably, oh, sixteen thousand years ago, give or take? Right old tosser, he was, trying to use my power to take over the universe, like I’m some demon he can just bind at will. I have to admit, it was pretty funny watching him realize he did not, in fact, summon a demon.”
Through Harry’s small monologue, Tom had calmed considerably, taking note of a few important points. “So.. You can’t just be summoned by force? You won’t just disappear?”
“Huh? Oh, no,” Harry replied, finally looking over to meet Tom’s eyes, and suddenly realizing what Tom must’ve thought would happen. “Oh- Oh Merlin, no, Tom. No, nobody can force me to do anything. When I get summoned, they basically just open up a pathway between their dimension and the one I’m in. Don’t worry, I won’t be leaving any time soon. You’re stuck with me.”
Tom exhaled a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “That’s.. reassuring. And I believe you have it backwards; you’re stuck with me.”
Neither of them brought up how Tom’s arm was still tightly wrapped around Harry’s, unwilling to let go just yet. The bracelet dangled from his wrist, glinting in the sunlight.
“Would you like to come see the other side with me?” Harry asked, grinning. “We can explore a whole new dimension together.”
Tom quickly realized that the man who had last summoned Harry was right—he was, in fact, a demon. Because that was oh so terribly tempting, to accept and explore a whole new universe with Harry, but his self-preservation as kicking in at the worst possible moment, especially now that he was mortal. “Will it be dangerous?”
And Harry gave Tom a smirk—much more dangerous than any smirk Tom had ever produced—and his eyes seemed to glow with all the power he held. “I pity the fool who thinks they can harm what belongs to me.”
Tom immediately decides to ignore the sudden flips his stomach has decided to turn, along with his heartbeat, which decided to skip three and a half beats for some reason.
He barely croaks out his last attempt at an argument. “W- What about your family?”
“Mom, Dad, Remmy, and Siri are all out doing their own things. I think Mom is sorting through my vault to see what’s all in there; the Marauders are having one of their date nights where they try out a whole bunch of muggle things in short succession while becoming increasingly drunk.”
“That sounds believable.”
“We can ask Danny if he’ll wanna come, but I doubt it,” Harry answered. “He said today was going to be a Danny-day.”
“Which is?” Tom questioned.
“Basically, he wants to spend the entire day alone. Sometimes the thought of interacting with people—even his family—sounds hard to do, so we respect that and give him time to himself. We had to deal with the Weasleys yesterday, and he had barely any warning to mentally prepare himself for their visit.”
Tom found himself lost. “People- people do that now? They don’t just force him to socialize to get over it?”
Harry looked at him with a half-worried stare. “It’s not something that just goes away. Forcing him to socialize with others when he doesn’t want to just makes everything worse.”
“Oh.” Tom was staring into his hand with a sort of wonder, his voice breathy. “I never knew.”
(He remembers days upon weeks where he wanted nothing more than a day to himself, to have alone time, but he instead forced the feeling down as deep as it would go and kept it there, until the pain of leaving it unchecked was only background static. He remembers ignoring it, working through the feeling, because it was only in his head and therefore didn’t exist-)
“So do you want to come? I honestly just want to scare the crap out of whoever is on the other side. And then we can explore a bunch,” Harry asked again.
And Tom was officially out of arguments, and allowed himself to become just as excited as Harry was. “Yes.”
Harry grinned.
. . . . .
The vortex had fully-formed since Harry and Tom had finished talking. It was a purple spiral, leading to places unknown, with no clue what could be on the other side. (Well, Harry could check, but what would be the fun in that?) Reality itself seemed to distort around it, kind of like a glitch in the universe—which was basically what it was.
Danny had been notified of their departure, and Harry had left a detailed note for the adults for when they returned. He didn’t know how long they’d be gone, but he promised his family no more than a couple days at most.
Tom shuffled on his feet, unable to stand still with the prospect of exploring an entire new dimension. They hadn’t bothered to pack anything; what would be the point in that, when Harry could summon anything he wished with barely half a thought.
“Well, are you ready?” Harry asked, grinning over at Tom with his vibrant eyes.
“Absolutely.”
They held each other’s hand and stepped into the portal without a single hesitation.
It was a hundred million different sensations that Tom had never felt before, everywhere from being sucked through a small hole in the universe to feeling like both nothing and everything at once to when he made his horcruxes and split himself apart, only this time it was a hundred different ways—every single particle in his body—and without any of the pain. He had a moment of panic when he couldn’t feel Harry’s hand, or see Harry anywhere, but he couldn’t really see anything, and feelings were fading and coming as fast as possible.
And as quick as it started, the feeling disappeared. Tom stepped out of the portal, full of anxious excitement as to what was on the other side. He was exploring a new universe. Merlin, he’d never imagined being able to cross dimensions when he’d met Harry, and he surely didn’t deserve to, after everything he’s done, but he’ll accept everything Harry offers him until the day he realizes Tom’s not worth it.
(Harry should’ve killed him the first chance he got.)
The first thing Tom noticed upon exiting the portal was the flash of green light heading straight towards him, in the exact shade of the killing curse.
. . . . .
Harry stepped out of the portal first, having millennia upon millennia to practice walking through dimensions with ease. (Tom would surely be another minute, since it’s his first time.) He felt his body changing to suit the universe, as it did in every single universe, and he wondered what he would look like this time. Maybe he’d have long hair again; Harry loved having the long braid he’d had in the Marvel universe.
The first thing Harry noticed were the countless binding runes under his feet, outlining the small summoning circle until it reached the corners of the room.
Control, control, control-
With an unnecessarily strong stomp of his foot, the stone floor cracked hundreds of different ways, breaking every single one of the runes until they were nothing more than dust.
Then, finally, Harry turned to face his summoners, his eyes almost blinding in the otherwise dark room. “So, which one of you idiots thought that they could control the Master of Death?”
All of his summoners were wearing black cloaks to hide their faces, though they were quickly removing them upon seeing who the Master of Death was. The room was lit up by several small lights throughout, illuminating the basement of Grimmauld Place—somewhere Harry would always recognize immediately.
“.. Harry?”
It was Remus who spoke, barely a whisper, looking distraught and thirty years older, covered in scars.
The others all had varying levels of shock on their faces, ranging everywhere from Snape’s half-furious rage to some of the Weasley’s fully horrified stares.
Ah, he was summoned by the Order of the Phoenix. Harry could barely keep the grin off his face; this was going to be fun. He got summoned to another world parallel to his first life.
Harry took slow, deliberate steps forward, getting closer and closer to the mastermind behind it all. “Albus Dumbledore, I’d say it’s nice to see you again, but.. it’s really not.”
He allowed a terrifying grin to adorn his face, almost too inhuman for them to mistake him for their Harry Potter any longer. Almost.
Sure enough, Dumbledore’s eyes were twinkling, and Harry could almost hear his thoughts.
(‘The Master of Death is only Harry, and Harry is so easy to control. So easy to manipulate to suit my needs; I’ve already been doing it for years.’)
“Harry, my boy, I’m afraid I wasn’t expecting you.”
Harry’s retort could only be described as scathing, full of venom. “But of course not. I am no one’s boy, Dumbledore, and most definitely not yours.”
“Potter! Cease your infernal prank this instant! Just as bad as your father, thinking you can interrupt important meetings because you’re bored.” Snape snapped.
Harry glanced around the room, quickly taking in all the details. So, they thought he was only playing a prank? They don’t actually believe him to be the real Master of Death, for he was only Harry Potter in this world.
Remus seemed to want to speak up—to defend Harry’s father, but he only shrunk in on himself instead. Sirius was nowhere in sight to comfort him like he usually did.
There were only adults in the room—Dumbledore’s most trusted allies in the Order—so the Weasley twins, Ron, Hermione, and whoever else were all missing, most likely somewhere else in the house. Molly and Arthur Weasley, Snape, Dumbledore, Moody, Remus, and perhaps a couple others Harry didn’t bother to name were there, all standing around the broken remains of the circle with varying levels of wariness and irritation. The portal still glowed brightly behind Harry, even though the summoning circle was no better off than any of the binding runes.
Harry ignored Snape completely. “Tell me, Dumbledore, what reason did you have to summon me? You must be quite desperate, surely, to flirt with Death.”
The twinkle in his eyes still hadn’t disappeared—which was perfectly fine by Harry’s logic. It meant he still believed Harry was controllable, and Harry was going to have a wonderful time proving him wrong. “Harry, my boy, if you are indeed the Master of Death, then we request your help to defeat the Dark Lord Voldemort.”
“Bold words coming from somebody who just tried to chain me to the ground,” Harry retorted.
“Yes, well,” Dumbledore started, carefully picking his words. “We thought the Master of Death would be.. someone else.. and were preparing for the worst.”
Harry took a step forward, watching with amusement as half of the room backed up. The ones who didn’t obviously didn’t believe Harry was anybody more than Harry, which would be unfortunate for them. “You would not have summoned me unless you felt truly desperate that you would lose the war against Voldemort. Why do you have no faith in Harry Potter?”
“We have perfect faith in dear Harry,” Dumbledore started. “But he is still young and does not deserve to be pressured into being the wizarding world’s sole protector. I feel we have burdened the boy with enough already, without having him fight our war against Voldemort for us.”
Harry was honestly half shocked at the amount of lies that just came out of Dumbledore’s mouth. He didn’t honestly believe anything he just said, did he? “You expect me to fight against Voldemort for you?”
“Surely the Master of Death would have no problems ridding the world of a single monster,” Dumbledore challenged.
“I could,” Harry agreed, gesturing to the portal behind him. It was revving up again, brightening and swirling faster than it had been. Somebody else was coming through. “But I fear that you’ve mistaken whose side I am truly on.”
Harry’s grin could only be described as predatory, gaining much too much satisfaction from Dumbledore’s expression as he realized he may have made a terrible mistake in trying to summon the Master of Death for his own selfish purposes.
The portal powered up even more, the purple vortex looking close to breaking from the mold it had grown into, but it only continued to shine brighter and brighter, until Tom stepped through the other side, looking a bit disoriented.
Only a few people immediately recognized Tom for who he was, Dumbledore and Mad-Eye Moody being two of these people. Harry would love know what thoughts were running through Dumbledore’s head right now, but he settled for the sheer amount of horror on his face instead.
Moody was a bit quicker to jump into action—years and years of Auror training kicking in at every possible moment, or as he liked to yell, ‘CONSTANT VIGILANCE!’—and whipped out his wand faster than the normal eye could even blink.
A green bolt of light shot out of the end, heading straight towards Tom. He’d only just barely snapped out of his dizziness, and for a quick moment, he looked wonderfully excited to be in a new dimension, just before he saw the killing curse flying towards him and any excitement turned into dread. It was already much too late to dodge out of the way by the time he’d noticed its presence.
In even less amount of time than it would take for the spell to make contact, Harry had already moved. One second, he was across the room next to Dumbledore, and in the next he was standing in front of Tom Riddle, grabbing the deadly curse out of the air with his hand. It glowed the same color as his eyes, bright and vibrant and deadly, curling around his hand like a snake.
While making direct eye contact with both Moody and Dumbledore, Harry raised his hand, which was still tightly gripping the spell, and put it in his mouth. He swallowed it whole, and the entire room watched as Harry’s eyes glowed just a bit brighter for it.
Meanwhile, in his other hand, still at his side, a chain was slowly forming, materializing into existence at his will. Tom was the only person who noticed it’s presence—everybody else still distracted with Harry swallowing the killing curse—and watched as it slowly grew link after link, until it reached around his neck. The chain connected to the sudden collar he was wearing, because apparently his ‘forged from the heart of Harry’s first star’ bracelet had decided to change both shape and location.
And even as it wrapped itself around tighter and tighter, Tom never once felt afraid.
He finally decided to take a proper look around, because he seemed to have just stumbled directly into chaos, only to meet the eyes of Albus Dumbledore from across the room.
Um.
Tom blinked, but no, Dumbledore was still there. His eyes slipped from Tom onto Harry, looking almost.. disappointed. Merlin, Harry would hate that look.
Harry, who apparently seems to have aged almost a decade and was now only a bit shorter than Tom. His previously childish face had completely vanished, and what was left in place was an extremely handsome young man who had gone through puberty almost as well as Tom had.
(Tom decided to ignore the sudden wave of emotions that had come out of nowhere, along with the fact every single one of his organs had apparently decided they wanted to fold themselves into pretzels. The curvy-twisty ones.)
(He also decided to ignore how his body temperature had seemed to raise several degrees, and wondered if the room was naturally this hot and he just hadn’t noticed before.)
(Tom had, however, failed to notice the deep blush he was sporting because of the heat, but that was okay, because nobody else had noticed either.)
Dumbledore spoke, and Tom had almost forgotten how much he hated the sound of his voice. “What reason do you have to protect Voldemort?”
Voldemort?
Moody looks as if he was barely restraining himself from throwing another curse Tom’s direction, but there was no way Harry would allow that to happen.
Harry yanked on the chain, bringing it to everyone’s notice. “This Tom is mine.”
And surprisingly, it’s Remus who spoke up next, while everybody was frozen under the implications of what that meant. “Um, I don’t mean to interrupt, but.. what’s going on?”
Harry smiled, and it wasn’t one that Tom had ever seen directed towards Remus before. Alternate universes were a riot. “As I’ve said before, I am the Master of Death. You all did try to summon me, after all.” He directed the same icy glare back towards Dumbledore, only much more amplified. “It’s such a shame none of your binding runes worked.”
Tom glanced at the ground, noticing for the first time that it was cracked a thousand different ways, and then realizing that the white chalk drawn everywhere had all been binding runes. Merlin, those are a type of illegal that even Tom wouldn’t touch. Even just one would be enough to do some serious damage for any normal human, and there must have been hundreds on the ground. It doesn’t just let somebody control another—which would’ve been bad enough—but it ties their entire being to the other. Everything from their magic to their soul to their mind would be nothing more than a puppet for controlling, or even in the best case scenario, the person would still have to obey any and all orders of the other. It’s what he based his Dark Marks off of, but like, there were lines even Voldemort wouldn’t cross, and that was saying something.
If Tom hadn’t been connected to the leash Harry was holding, he would’ve walked straight out of the room to throw up. Honestly, his stomach was still contemplating the action anyways, but Tom tried not to focus on that too much.
Remus cringed back a bit, but after catching a supportive twinkle in Dumbledore’s eye, he continued. “Y-Yes, but.. Why do you look like Harry?”
Nobody could say he was a normal human anymore, not after swallowing a killing curse whole. Harry answered anyways, both as vague and as truthful as he could be. “Because that’s who I am.”
There really was no other answer that he could’ve given.
Snape, and several others, didn’t look like they really believed that, still somehow doubting the authenticity of Harry not being the same as their Harry, and instead somehow being thousands of times stronger and apparently sided with Voldemort. Who was on a leash.
Molly Weasley, who had been in moderate to severe amounts of shock before then, finally voiced her opinion, as she always does. “Harry, dear, why don’t you introduce us to your.. friend..”
It was obvious to see that everybody was curious about the person that could cause such a negative reaction with both Dumbledore and Mad-Eye Moody, especially with Dumbledore normally being wonderfully kind to everybody else without discrimination.
(Harry wanted to scoff.)
Harry lifted the chain and let everybody watch as it clanked together—showing it off to the crowd, as if to remind them all of its presence. As if to remind them that ‘Harry’ currently had somebody on the end of a leash, somebody who Dumbledore and Moody recognized. “Yes, Tom, why don’t you introduce yourself?”
Tom caught onto Harry’s plan easily (not that Harry was trying to hide it with that smirk-), and understood exactly why Harry had so much fun (other than almost dying) with summonings. He got to mess with random people who had been expecting something completely different, all while having no consequences on his actual universe.
Tom stepped forward, out of Harry’s shadow. He grinned, baring just a bit too many teeth to be anything other than predatory, all while never making a move to remove the obvious collar around his neck. The Deathly Hallows symbol glinted in the dim lights, as if it were glowing with the same power that Tom resonated. “My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, but you all know me better as Lord Voldemort. I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, but.. it’s really not.”
His last line was full of scathing venom directed towards Dumbledore, all but mirroring what Harry had said only minutes before.
Snape sneered, “You expect us to believe that this.. boy is the notorious Dark Lord?”
Harry shrugged. “Well, I don’t really care if you believe me or not, but he most definitely is.” He met Snape’s glare head-on, causing the man to barely hold back a flinch. “And surely, Severus Snape, Harry would know who he is better than anybody else.”
(Hearing the name, Tom’s mind decided to dredge up a random memory from years ago—of a catchy song that Harry had showed him before he’d messed everything up.)
“Yes, Mr. Potter,” Dumbledore started, unable to keep quiet for longer than a few minutes, “I have no doubts that you know Voldemort better than any of us, but why, may I ask, have you brought Tom Riddle to our, supposedly, very secure location, and on a leash, may I add?” The elder wizard glanced to Tom’s collar, noticing how the Dark Lord never made a move to remove it, looking completely at ease in a room full of enemies.
“.. That was like six questions in one,” Tom mumbled.
“Because Tom Marvolo Riddle belongs to me, and I would prefer that none of your men attack what is mine, Dumbledore,” Harry voiced.
(Tom’s memory only grew more vivid, until the lyrics made their way to the tip of his tongue.)
“Is this the reason you will not help against the war with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Because you have already enslaved your universe’s version of him?” Dumbledore asked, looking both disappointed and upset that Harry would apparently enslave somebody, like that was any of his business.
“I’m here of my complete free will, thanks.”
Harry smiled, pulling the leash taut until Tom was forced to lean closer, who didn’t look even a bit annoyed with what was happening. “Tom came to me of his own choosing, and I simply accepted what he offered. And besides, you should be much more worried about the fact you unleashed the Master of Death upon this universe than any mortal wizard.”
Dumbledore caught on quickly, gaining a darker glare as his thoughts aligned. “What did you plan to do while in this universe, Mr. Potter?”
Harry broke out into a terrifying grin, reminding Dumbledore, once again, that he was not as human as people first assume (not that Dumbledore believed him). Too many teeth, and eyes just on the wrong side of green, too close to the color of the curse he just swallowed whole. “Maybe I will go end the war.” His smile grew just a bit wider. “Come along, Tom, let’s go find this universe’s Harry Potter.”
They walked past the crowd, to the place where Harry knew the door was hidden. Nobody tried to stop them, choosing instead to shuffle out of the way. Even Dumbledore was frozen where he stood, trying to understand the implications of what he just summoned.
Harry turned at the last second, staring directly at Dumbledore through the small crowd. “And you’re wrong—Tom isn’t a monster.”
He stepped through the doorway, Tom following right behind him, and they didn’t bother to look back.
The portal stayed wide open, perfect for somebody else to jump through, if they so wished.
. . . . .
“You’re not actually going to go murder Harry Potter, right?” Tom asked, looking nonchalant.
They were walking side by side on the sidewalk, on their way to a house in Surrey. The sun was shining high in the sky, almost time for lunch, and while the neighborhood was pretty, Tom felt a bit unsettled by how every single house seemed to look exactly the same. Harry didn’t look perturbed though, so Tom didn’t really bother wondering whether this was normal or not.
“Obviously not, but that’ll keep Dumbledore busy for a while. It’ll be hilarious when he finally finds us.” Harry smiled, glancing over to the other wizard. “And.. for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about earlier.”
“Hm?”
Harry gestured to the bracelet, once again wrapped around Tom’s wrist exactly like it had been earlier. The Deathly Hallows symbol dangled loosely off the accessory, glinting in the sunlight. His smile dropped into a frown, voice no louder than a murmur. “For.. the leash. And collar. And almost getting you killed right after you regained mortality.” Harry paused, looking distraught. “It hasn’t even been a day.”
“Why are you apologizing?” (Harry should never have to apologize to him.) “You protected me from getting hurt, just as you said you would. Plus, just in case you’ve forgotten, I was the one to offer my servitude. I accepted your bracelet—which you said represented a collar, might I add—, I would obey almost any order you give me; if wearing a literal collar is what you so desire, who am I do disagree? I offered you myself—my body, my soul, my magic, and whatever else—and that is what I will give you, of my free will.” Tom rubbed over the bracelet. “Actually, it’s kind of a shame the collar disappeared so quickly. I didn’t get a chance to see it, and I quite liked it.”
An idea suddenly popped in Harry’s head, and the blunt shock of it forced him into stopping mid-step. “Oh, oh Merlin.”
Tom stopped too, looking concerned. “What is it?”
“It all suddenly makes sense,” Harry muttered, staring down at the ground in surprise.
“What’re you talking about?”
“I can’t believe I never realized.”
“.. Harry?”
And suddenly Harry was staring straight at him, understanding dawning in his eyes. “You’re just a bratty sub.”
Tom didn’t think he could get more confused. “What??”
“I’m in moderate to severe amounts of shock right now.”
“I’m sorry??”
“No, not your fault,” Harry waved him off, starting to walk again. Tom quickly caught up with him. “I just need to reevaluate several life choices.”
Tom was still very concerned and very confused, but decided to take Harry’s word for it. Whatever ‘it’ was. “Soooo, may I ask why you’ve suddenly aged a decade?”
In the bright sunlight, Tom was able to get a proper look at Harry’s new looks, which included being only a couple inches shorter than Tom, a wild mess of hair that Tom wanted nothing more than to run his hands through, and.. well, he actually really resembled James. They had the same jawline, same body physique, but.. why did Harry look so thin?
“I take on the body of whomever I personify in each realm. In this dimension, I am Harry Potter, so I take on his looks.”
“But.. we’re going to go visit Harry Potter, right? So you’ve only copied his body,” Tom summarized. “Wait, how old are you right now?”
Harry studied his body for a moment, measuring different parts of his arm, waist, hair length, and whatever else before coming to a conclusion. “Summer after my fifth year. Fifteen. Sirius Black just died a couple weeks ago, and Harry is going through mourning, while also being ignored by his friends—thanks to Dumbledore—and being tasked with hundreds of chores. It would be the start of the sixth book in your series, so prepare for massive spoilers.”
Tom brought out his copy of the second book, flipping through its pages. “Well, unless these account for us visiting, I doubt everything will be spoiled.”
“True.”
“So where are we going, anyways? Actually, don’t tell me- We’re visiting the Dursleys?”
“Yep!” Harry agreed. “If.. If I start zoning out, or doing or saying anything weird, just.. get my attention. Snap me out of it.”
Tom had grown up in the middle of a war, hated for everything he ever stood for. Of course the realization of what that meant would hit him rather quickly—he was too smart for it to fly over his head that easily.
“.. Your Dursleys were not the ones from the book, were they.” It was a question, but came out as a statement. A fact.
“No, they weren’t. The summertime in the books- They left out a lot of facts. Ask my mother if you want to know, tell her you have my permission to tell you.”
“.. How do you not hate me?” Tom mumbled. “Why did you ever leave me alive?”
“Tom, look at me.” It was an order, and Tom didn’t dare disobey. Harry brought their faces closer together, until his eyes were the only thing Tom could see. “You didn’t do that. In my first life, Dumbledore was the one to put me with the Dursleys. Vernon was the one who did the act. You, on the other hand, didn’t even kill my parents. You stunned them. So even if I hadn’t been me, I still wouldn’t have ended up with them. And trust me when I say that I’ve done much worse things than you have,” Harry explained. “I’ve killed millions. Hundreds of millions. I am the Master of Death—just think about what that title means for a minute.”
Tom could only close his eyes and nuzzle into the hand still holding his face close.
“I was just.. trying to warn you of what may happen, I suppose. I didn’t want to catch you off guard,” Harry muttered.
“Right,” Tom pulled away, “I guess I shouldn’t.. worry about that right now. We’ve got a Chosen One to corrupt.”
Harry saw the subject chance for what it was, but decided to play along. There was no use dwelling on distressing topics right now—not in another dimension, right out on the streets, with Dumbledore hot on their tail. “Exactly. Come on, we’re almost there.”
The picked up the pace a bit, walking in a comfortable silence along the street, getting closer and closer to the house.
“Wait, if you’re both Harry Potter, should I address one of you differently? Your Harry and he’s Potter? Or I could always refer to you as Master, of course.”
Harry imagined how that would go over and had to clutch his sides from laughing too hard. “Oh Merlin, you might actually achieve what Voldemort has never been able to do. I can already imagine the Daily Prophet headlines: ‘Boy-Who-Lived Killed By Dark Lord Voldemort’,” Harry took on a reporter voice. “Harry Potter, the golden boy-who-lived, supposedly died of a stroke after Voldemort walked into his house and called him ‘Master’ out of nowhere. Witnesses can confirm that the blunt shock of the event completely fried Mr. Potter’s brain after he was unable to comprehend the meaning behind the word.”
Tom laughed, the previous depressing mood already a thing of the past. “Okay, you may have a point. Should I just call you both Harry then, and hope for the best?”
Harry was quiet for a minute, before finally answering, “Call me Mod.”
“Mod?” Tom repeated. “Where’d you come up with that?”
“M O D,” Harry spelled out. “Master of Death. I am MoD Harry.”
Tom shrugged. “Works for me.”
They reached the house shortly afterwards, where Harry and Tom could see that the flower bed was just a little greener, the house a bit cleaner, and that the surrounding wards—the ones meant to keep Voldemort out—didn’t do a single thing, other than alert Tom to their presence.
“.. Did you know there are wards around the house?”
“Oh, right. Lily’s death supposedly made ‘blood wards’ around the Dursleys’ house, since Petunia is a blood relative. However, they only work, and are much more powerful, if I were to consider this place my ‘home’,” Harry explained.
“A house doesn’t make a home,” Tom muttered.
So, they did what any Master of Death and Dark Lord would do, and rang the doorbell.
“Ah yes, the doorbell,” Tom agreed.
“Ring ring.” Harry pressed the button.
“You know, I the last time I rang a doorbell was that one night.”
Harry muffled his voice, “Open up James, this is the evil police.”
“Evil police.”
“Yeah, instead of catching bad guys, they’re actually just murderers in disguise.”
Tom laughed. “You’re not wrong.”
“Perhaps murdering the Dursleys is not the best course of action right now, though.”
“No, but it sure is tempting.”
“You’re telling me.”
The door swung open, revealing a haggardly-dressed and very tired-looking Harry Potter, whose green eyes, no matter how widened they were, Tom mused, were barely half as vibrant as his Harry’s. Merlin, that was going to get confusing quickly.
“ Voldemort!”