Chapter Text
“I’ll be summoning Lucius today, you're welcome to be present.” Tom said over breakfast.
Harry had been staying with Tom for a few weeks now. They mostly spent their time in his office trying to create a worthwhile plan to fix the shithole that was Britain. Harry, obviously, knew nothing about the current political situation, but he was able to keep up with Tom’s tangents and soon enough started arguing back against plans and putting forward ideas.
They’d even made a trip to Diagon Alley, both under glamours, Harry was apparently very recognisable, though less so without the useless glasses. Tom didn’t think anyone would recognise his own face but better safe than sorry. They spent most of their time in bookshops, as well as a few less-than-reputable shops in Knockturn that Tom wanted to visit, Harry just kept silently by his side and curiously watched as Tom haggled for goods. Now, a week on, the Dark Lord had decided it was time to bring some worthwhile connections into the fold.
“Is this just so you can watch him shit himself when he realises I’m with you?”
Tom’s lip quirked. “Well, I have to get my amusement somewhere. I believe Barty reported some animosity between you and his son so I’m quite looking forward to the confrontation.”
Harry flipped him off and continued munching on his bacon.
Apparently the professor at Hogwarts last year was one of Tom’s followers in disguise, Barty Crouch Jr, who, since his father was dead, was now residing at Crouch Manor. Tom had informed him of his successful return, though he’d know anyway with the darkening of his mark, but he wasn’t yet sure what to do with the man, he was a loyal Death Eater but his time in Azkaban and then years under the imperius had left him less than sane. Pettigrew, the man who’d been at the graveyard was staying in Tom’s father’s home, Riddle Manor, while he and Harry were at the lesser known, unplottable, Slytherin one.
“Why Harry, you’re famous.” Tom said when the Daily Prophet arrived. ‘The Boy Who Went Missing’ was the boldly stated title on the front page. Underneath was a photo of Harry wearing a white shirt and red and gold tie looking decidedly pissed off. Photo-Harry rolled his eyes at the camera and turned to speak to someone out of view.
“I do not look good in those glasses.” Harry said, looking at the article in Tom’s hands.
“I think you did it to hide your eyes." Tom said, consideringly.
“Why would I want to hide my eyes?”
“They tend to…glow when you’re angry in a way that doesn’t quite sit with your mediocre image. Also, they make you look more like James Potter. Which I believe is something you would want to capitalise on.”
“Huh. Anything else interesting in the paper?”
“Not really, but you can have it when I’m done. Are you going to sit in on my meeting with Lucius?”
“I’ll disillusion myself and stay, I think. I don’t want to give away that I’ve lost my memory to anyone else, who knows if I’ve met him before.”
“Fine. But I may tell him we’ve reached an agreement and I know where you are, depending on how the conversation goes.”
“Alright, make sure to ask him if he knows anything about where I live and with who.”
“I was already going to.” Tom said and continued flipping through the paper.
*
“Lucius, welcome!”
Harry had convinced Tom that he didn’t really need the glamour, especially with those of his inner circle, as he was doing it differently this time around. So Malfoy almost gasped when he saw his Lord and realised what he actually looked like. Harry had to hold in his snicker from where he was leaning against the wall behind Tom.
“My Lord.” He said, pulling himself together admirably quickly, bowing down low. “It is good to see you back.”
Harry watched them talk as Malfoy tried to justify his lack of commitment with how he tried to look for his Lord but decided to keep himself in a position of political power so as to serve him when he returned. Harry could tell Tom thought this was a load of shit, but Lucius's connections were broad so Tom told his Death Eater that it was forgiven as long as the man remained useful to the dark's cause.
Harry tuned in fully when they got onto the subject of himself.
“What do you know about Potter’s disappearance, Lucius?”
“I assumed you had taken the boy, My Lord. He went missing after the third task, so my sources say, though it only reached the papers just this morning. I believe Dumbledore was covering it up.”
“What do you know of Potter, have you met him?”
Malfoy sneered. “I have, My Lord, he tricked me into freeing one of my house elves after the fiasco with the Chamber of Secrets.”
“The Chamber of Secrets?”
Lucius paled. Harry had no clue what the Chamber of Secrets was but from both of their expressions, this was going to be interesting.
“Well a couple of years ago there were a number of bills going through about the seizure of dark artefacts and a lot of our faction were worried about our properties being searched so in an effort to discredit Arthur Weasley who was noticeably pushing for the searches I slipped an old black diary you gave to my father to-”
Harry could almost feel Tom’s anger and rage. In actual fact… he could, it was making his scar burn slightly.
“That was a very important object, Lucius.” Tom said, seething. “Tell me, where is it now?”
“I’m afraid Potter destroyed it, My Lord, with a basilisk fang I believe.”
Harry winced, partly because he was at fault for destroying something precious to Tom and who knows what the Dark Lord would decide should be retribution for that - partly because fucking hell his head was gonna split open.
The pain subsided slightly as Tom got control of himself. “I’m going to ask you to give me a full report on the matter when I feel less likely to crucio you. But tell me, before you leave, what’s Potter like, who does he live with?”
“Thank you for being so merciful, My Lord. I haven’t had much interaction with him apart from that but Severus tells me he is almost a copy of his father in attitude, 'an annoying reckless stupid brat’ I believe he’s said. I could go on, he seems to have quite a few antagonistic feelings towards the boy.”
"And your son? He’s in Potter’s year, Draco, I believe.”
“Yes My Lord, I believe they’re some sort of school rivals, Draco thinks he’s rather full of himself but-” He cut himself off.
“Come on Lucius, what does Draco think? Unless you’d prefer me to take what I need straight from your mind. And I won’t be gentle.”
“No My Lord, I overheard my son and a friend of his discussing Potter’s disappearance and Draco seemed to be of the opinion Potter survived. He said it would be just like Harry to shack up with the Dark Lord and that he had the utmost faith in his continuing survival, I don’t believe he knows I heard. I’m sure it was just a joke, My Lord.”
“So you don’t think me and Potter have… ‘shacked up’?”
If Tom revealed him to Malfoy, Harry was going to be so pissed off, he couldn’t exactly say anything right now so he did the next best thing and flicked the Dark Lord on the back of his neck with his finger.
Tom’s reaction was carefully blank, but when he rubbed at the mark on his neck Harry thought he saw a hint of a smirk.
“No, My Lord.” Lucius looked like he dearly hoped that was the right answer. “And as for where Potter lives, it’s not publicly known, some even think it might be muggles.”
Wonderful.
“You may leave now Lucius, I’ve told you what to start work on, at some point I might want to talk to your son. He’ll be perfectly safe.” He added after Lucius' eyes widened slightly.
“Of course My Lord.”
“Taffy.”
“Yes, Master?”
“If you could escort Lucius off the premises.”
“Taffy will be doing that.” The elf grabbed Malfoy’s robe and apparated out without asking the man. Harry liked Taffy, you could tell he’d got his attitude from Tom.
Harry undid the charm on himself and sat on Tom’s desk so he was facing him. “So on a scale of one to Dumbledore, how much do you hate me for destroying your thing.”
“I am angry at Lucius for using something important of mine entrusted to him to further his own political agenda.”
“Right, well add it to the list of things we both have to apologise for when I get my memories back anyway. Do you mind me asking what it was? You were… very angry.”
Tom sighed. “I honestly don’t know why I’m telling you this, I trust you too much, but… have you ever heard of a horcrux?”
“You’re asking the amnesiac?”
“Yesterday I wondered aloud how to improve a ritual circle and you gave me an in-depth explanation of what and what not to do almost instantly, excuse me for covering my bases.”
“Well that was a spur of the moment thing, it’s kind of subconscious, when I’m actually trying to find answers they just don’t click in my head.” He rubbed his forehead, annoyed. “Sorry, carry on.”
“I will, thank you for your permission, darling. Horcruxes are a method of immortality. Murder can create small tears in your soul which can you capitalise on using a ritual and a small part can break off and attach to an object. To be able to die, your whole soul has to cross over, so if, like me, your body gets discorporated, the horcrux is a tether to the land of the living, it’s how I was able to survive.”
“Your diary was a horcrux? And it’s been destroyed?”
“Yes. By the Basilisk venom.”
Harry thought for a moment. “But that doesn’t make sense.”
“What do you mean?” There was a crease in Tom’s forehead. Harry fought the urge to smooth it out with his thumb.
“You said it yourself, the soul has to be whole to cross over, so that bit in the diary can’t have gone without you. It’s still on this side.”
Tom blinked. “So where the hell is it then?”
“Maybe it came back to you? Do you think it was maybe the tearing apart of your soul that took your sanity?”
Two red eyes glared at him. He raised his hands in defeat. “Well maybe it’s not that, but you’re sane now and the horcrux is destroyed so no prob- wait… can someone have multiple horcruxes?”
Tom didn’t need to reply.
“How many?” Harry asked, resigned.
“I planned to make seven, it being the strongest magical number and all, but there’s five. Four now I suppose.”
“Well you seem pretty sane to me right now so… don’t worry about it?”
Tom groaned in a way very unbecoming of a Dark Lord.“Taffy, bring us two cups of tea please.” He scoffed at Harry’s look. “We’re British, my dear, even if you don’t remember it.”
“So do you think you might have some kind of friendship with Malfoy Junior then?” Tom asked while he stirred his tea, Harry could tell he was changing the subject but he decided to let it slide for the moment.
“Well maybe, and whoever he was conversing with, it would make sense to have some allies if I was not who I was pretending to be.”
“You weren’t.”
“We don’t know that Tom, but for the sake of argument, sure. Do you know if me and mini Malfoy were in the same house?”
“He’s a Slytherin.”
“And I was a Gryffinclaw?”
“Gryffindor.”
“I still think that system is stupid.”
“You’ve told me. Many times." He took a sip from his mug. "So… living with muggles.” He didn’t try to disguise the disdain in his voice.
Harry sighed. “Yeah, I suspected.”
“Why?”
“Well…” Should he tell Tom? Would the Dark Lord think less of him? “I have some scars that I’m quite certain are from a belt and I think wizards would at least use magic to discipline their children. Or not do it all, I think children are viewed as more of a blessing here than in the muggle world.”
Harry risked looking up into Tom’s eyes, they were angry. Before he could try to talk the man down - “Fucking- ow.” He pushed his palm into his head, over the scar. “Fuck, what the hell? How hard are you projecting your emotions?”
Tom’s anger faded into confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I felt it earlier as well, when you were mad at Lucius, like I’m suddenly being stabbed right here.” He poked at the scar.
“Can I?” He reached out a hand towards Harry’s face.
“Oh, um, sure, knock yourself out.”
His fringe was gently pushed out of the way and Tom’s finger brushed his scar.
For a moment he just stared at Tom, wondering what was going on in his head, and then he just felt calm, an ache in his chest and his mind he didn’t know existed suddenly disappeared. He felt the soft heat of Tom’s shirt on his cheek and realised he’d leant forwards far enough he was practically sitting on Tom, his face buried in his shoulder. Harry couldn’t even bring himself to be embarrassed, he felt… complete.
Once he’d basked long enough, he pushed himself up and tried to gracefully extricate himself from the Dark Lord’s lap.
He ended up standing in between Tom’s legs, which was better than sitting directly on the man, but he found himself having to frantically repeat in his head that he was only fourteen years old. A child.
But are you really though? His traitorous mind replied.
He coughed, trying to will the blush away from his cheeks. “So you have any idea what the fuck that was?”
Tom was looking at Harry like he couldn’t quite believe he existed. “On the night I came to kill you I intended to create another horcrux. I think I did.”
Denial sprang instantly to Harry’s lips but he swallowed it back down. Somewhere deep inside, in his heart, maybe the horcrux itself, he knew Tom was speaking the truth.
He was only half present for the conversation after that; he wanted to cling to Tom and breathe him in and never let go; he wanted to run away and hide and rip Tom’s soul out of his forehead.
The compromise was for them both to shakily drink tea in silence.