Death's Fool

By ANarrativeCloud

Chapter 0

Mrs. Cole had only just helped deliver the woman's baby when she realized that the door to the room had opened, not loudly as if announcing their presence, but casually as if the person in question who opened the door belonged exactly where he was. There was an odd hum to the air surrounding the man, who was most definitely high class if his state of dress was anything to go by, yet there was some warmth that Mrs. Cole could feel from the man. There was nothing to suggest that the man had not belonged in the room, but Mrs. Cole knew that he wasn't supposed to be there yet the words were stuck in her throat as if she was pinned into the floor and unable to sit down despite the tiredness in her frame

"Merope." The man whispered the name, as if tasting the name on his lips as he approached the woman on the bed and placed two fingers on her neck. The man paused for a while and closed his eyes.

"She's dead, isn't she?" The man mused, as his eyes sought the only other person in the room, the sheer intensity of the green eyes almost swallowing her whole.

Mrs. Cole could only nod.

"She had a child?" The enquiry was softly said.

This time she could speak if a little breathlessly. "Y-yes. She said his name was—"

"—Tom Marvolo Riddle." The man interrupted amusedly yet the hum in the air still hadn't stopped. "Indeed. Where may I find him, matron?"

"T-the—" Mrs. Cole stopped herself. She may not be the kindest that the Orphanage had to offer and neither was she the bravest but children didn't deserve to be picked up just like that. She gulped, readying herself to talk to this intimidating man. "May I ask what your name is, sir?"

The man chuckled, low and it made the air hum even more that Mrs. Cole's knees almost buckled. What was wrong with her? "Hadrian Peverell. I'm the boy's godfather of a sort."

The name was heavy, Mrs. Cole could feel the coldness of it yet… "Godfather? Can you provide any proof of that, Mr. Peverell?"

The man's lips curved lightly and his eyes crinkled in thinly veiled mirth. (It had been quite a while since anybody had used the honorific 'Mr.' for him. It was most often Lord or just plain Hadrian, though it was a very welcome change) "Do you truly need one? Isn't that fact that I know exactly what he was christened as enough to persuade you, matron?"

"W-well—" Mrs. Cole was probably suicidal. She didn't even knew what possessed her to demand anything from the man. "H-he's with t-the other children. I-it's the first room down the other hall."

"Do I need to sign anything for me to formally adopt him? Merope, the poor dear, had left him with you, after all." The man said slowly, as if gauging her reactions. "Though I doubt that he already has records with you. May I take care of that for you?"

"N-nothing. Not yet, at least. We planned on resting the night before filling out the forms. It has been a long day, after all."

"Then please, leave the rest to me. Little Tom is family, after all."

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Hadrian strode slowly to the designated room, his mind wandering near and far. Had Tom truly spent his childhood in a place so gray and dull? No wonder he had wanted to be special. Especially with that intellect of his, he probably had nothing to occupy him and when he had found solace in the Dark Magic that he grew to be so well known to excel at, he had probably latched onto it. Even the Dursleys wasn't as bad as this.

The room that Cole had pointed out was small, enough for eight babies or four children and there were three children there, all of them varying in age. Yet Hadrian did not even have to look at the babies to know which one was Riddle. The baby, even so young, had a magic that sent shivers up his spine just feeling it. It was not the overwhelming power that he would grow up to have, but a pleasant brush of sunlight on a cold day. Inarguably, though, the magic was already leaning towards the dark and Hadrian could only smile at the possibility.

He gently picked the baby up and nestled it softly underneath his touch, and as if sensing him and his magic, the baby's blue eyes slowly opened as it stared curiously at the bright green eyes of his holder.

"You're a smart baby aren't you?" Hadrian whispered. "You'll grow to be great, that I can promise."

And with a soft whisper of the wind, he disappeared.

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Hadrian knew that the Slytherin Keep had never been found as one of the last true bearer of the name had sealed it until a worthy heir could open the Keep. Hadrian though, knew exactly where it was, as Voldemort—who remained a fully different entity from Tom Riddle—had made it his base of operations during the war. With the last worthy heir in his arms, Hadrian could most certainly bypass all the security wards that had been set up for the Keep. A little blood from the child had grant granted them access past the main gates and Hadrian had his wand at the ready for possible hostiles.

The Slytherin Keep was grand and beautiful, pristine as if it had never been abandoned for years upon years of neglect from its owners. True to Slytherin heritage, the main color theme of the house was silver and green, with white accents and several different shades of green. The Manor itself was wide, spanning a little bit bigger than twice the longer side of a Quidditch pitch. Hadrian was not in any hurry and continued to rock the baby in his arms, humming a tune that would not exist yet, for several decades. The front gardens were colorful and something that Hadrian had never associated with Salazar Slytherin.

Double-doored, with the crest of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Slytherin embossed in the middle—Hadrian touched the door, his Magic intermingling with borrowed magic from the infant in his arms made the runes previously invisible on the doors glow, the script lighting up as the magic passed through the runes. Then with a might groan, the doors opened slowly, giving view to a large receiving room where there were two staircases lining the sides of the large room and a lightly glowing chandelier the hung right at the center of the ceiling. There was a huge painting of Salazar Slytherin at the farthest point of the room and he looked so serious, much unlike Hadrian when they had decided that he was to be the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter.

There were several loud cracks in the air and Hadrian could feel the arrival of the House-elves, much enthusiastic their lot were.

"Tizzy is welcoming Little Master back! The Slytherin Keep welcome real master home!" One of the House elves spoke with its eyes shining brightly. Hadrian wondered distantly what happened to these House-elves if Voldemort had only found it when the War was about to end. "Whos is you, Little Master's holder?"

Hadrian gave the house-elf a smile as he crouched to its level. "I am Hadrian Ignotus Peverell. I am going to act as the little Slytherin's retainer as he grows up. Would that be okay to you?"

The House-elf's eyes were wide and shocked. No pureblood worth their salt would ever treat a house-elf this nicely, Hadrian knew, but he was far from conventional and he'd made friends with more than just house-elves.

"Master Peverell does not need Tizzy's permission!" Tizzy replied finally. "Master Peverell can do what he likes!"

"Yet if you think I should not do something, please tell me." Hadrian said with a smile. "I do not know of the protections that the Keep has installed and I would appreciate your help with familiarizing myself with the Keep."

"Tizzy will do his best!"

"So who are the others?" Hadrian asked curiously as he eyed all three house-elves. Hadrian inwardly thought that they probably hadn't needed this many house-elves if they were just few and his thoughts strayed to Hermione and her objections. Hadrian himself had never thought that house-elves needed to be free though Dobby was a rare case.

"I is Yuppi!" The shortest one said with eagerness.

"Sletchy!" The tallest one said.

"Do any of you sew?" Hadrian asks curiously. If he did not need to go to Diagon, he wouldn't.

"Tizzy, Yuppi and Sletchy can only fix clothes. Not make them." Tizzy said sadly.

Hadrian chuckled and patted their heads with his free hand. "Well, then. How about you fix up a room as a nursery for Tom?"

"Sletchy will!" Said the house-elf as it disappeared with a crack that had Hadrian wincing. He needed to teach the house-elves how to apparate soundlessly soon or Tom would be woken up too often too much if the kept happening.

"Then can you please fix up a dinner, Yuppi? I'm starving." Hadrian said wryly as he followed Tizzy up the new nursery room.

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Tom was a smart baby. He knew what to do to get Hadrian's attention and had started to make his cries different when he was cold, hungry or wanted to poo. Tizzy, loved his new master to bits and often played with the young Slytherin heir. Hadrian knew that the baby's name was important and needed to be something powerful but Tom already had a wonderful second name, and he could use it if he so wished. Hadrian often told Tom muggle fairy tales and he had full plans on teaching Tom about both the Mundane world and the Magical world then let him decide for himself what he wants. Truly, Hadrian hadn't had any plans on leaving the Keep at least, until Tom would no longer cry when Hadrian went too far from him.

The child was going to be spoiled rotten if Hadrian didn't get a hold of himself.

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"Hadrian! I've already finished my book!" Three-year old Tom called, his tone all mature yet had the childishness that was inherent in a boy his age. He had started reading and understanding the books since he was two and a half and Hadrian was hard-pressed not to be impressed. He himself had never learned to read properly until he was at least seven.

"Impressive." Hadrian complimented as he gave the boy a smile. "Can you tell me what it was about?"

Tom brightened and started to talk. "Well, Potions: Theory and Practise for Beginners just really lists what method is good for what effect. Like a diced-insect type flobberworm would make a potion 'fertile' and 'soft' while crushing it or adding it whole would make the potion 'stringy' and 'soppy'. Another example is the ears of a cabbit, when diced, it would add 'firmness' and a light component with grinding it would reduce the 'flow' of the potion. There are lost of examples in there and it was really interesting!"

Hadrian chuckled mildly. "How about your Charms?"

Tom's nose scrunched up cutely and Hadrian resisted the urge to hug to boy to pieces. "I can still move things and change the color of things. The snakes in the corridor likes me a lot, so I never get lost and never have to use the Point Me."

"That's brilliant." Hadrian praised him as he picked the boy up and Tom's face reddened and hid himself behind his hands. "You are the best son I could have hoped for."

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The first time Hadrian had taken Tom out of the Keep, Tom had felt a trickle of anxiety as he'd never interacted with people who weren't Hadrian or the House-elves. He was only four years old and while Hadrian assured him that while people expected him to have manners and compose himself as the proper pureblood heir he was supposed to be—though he wasn't really pureblood but was the heir to one—there was something about meeting people that made him want to just go back to the Keep and stay with Hadrian and the elves.

"Tom?"

Said child blinked as he looked up at the kind green eyes that looked at him.

"I should have thought of this—I'm sorry Tom. I should've let you come out earlier… I think I've been a tad too protective."

Tom smiled dryly—what four year old could pull that off?—"It's bound to happen sometime. I think I've had enough practice with the elves though."

"If you don't like them or are getting on your nerves—" Hadrian started.

"—just smile at them and hope they swoon themselves to silence." Tom finished. "I get it, I get it. Charming cute smile of a little four-year old and all that."

They were going out to go to Gringotts and arrange whatever was left of the Slytherin Fortune if the Gaunts hadn't managed to squander it all. It would also be good to know if Hadrian himself has a fortune that he had never touched but was content on opening a new vault if he hadn't had any. It was also a good idea to socialize and have Tom practice his conversational skills with people other than Hadrian. It was also a prelude to the parties that they would no doubt be invited once the right people heard of Tom. It was also definitely a coincidence that Hadrian had picked a day where Hyperion Malfoy, father to Abraxas Malfoy and grandfather to Lucius Malfoy was going to Gringotts at the exact same time that he had decided to (he wasn't fooling anyone who might have paid any attention).

"Remember your Gobbledygook lessons, Tom?"

|Of course.| Tom replied in the language.

|Brilliant.| Hadrian smiled.

"And I'm also supposed to do 'accidental' Parseltongue while you go play with you friends."

Hadrian blinked at the crude humor. "That might just be a good idea."

"Of course! No one will believe us if there isn't at least some proof." Tom said with a slightly raised nose. Hadrian would need train his more obvious tells out of him, but that was for another day. Tom would most probably be able to pick it out himself if he spent a day in front of a mirror anyway.

"Are you ready? Leaky Cauldron, okay? I'll go first so that I can catch you if you stumble."

"I won't stumble." Tom huffed.

Hadrian went first after pronouncing the name clearly in a single try and Tom followed him not soon after. The flames flared green and ebbed before it faded.

"Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron!" was the cheerful greeting after the fading of the green. "Diagon Alley, right?"

Hadrian smiled and Tom stood beside him. Not too close but not too far. It was a calculated distance that wouldn't have been so intimidating if Hadrian had put a leash on his magic, but that would defeat the whole purpose of the trip, so he didn't. Not all wizards could feel the magic anyway, unless he made it obvious like he did at Wool's with Mrs. Cole. They'd need to be at least good before being able to tell if he was powerful or not. There was the problem of Grindelwald, but Hadrian was pretty sure that even without the help of the Hallows, he'd be able to beat the aging German wizard without really putting his all. Even if the man was in his prime. Besides, the war wasn't even talk of the town yet, even if the more perceptive people could already feel it encroaching the horizon.

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Tom Marvolo Riddle didn't know what to make of his guardian.

Tom always knew that he had always been there and that he loved Tom to bits and Tom loved him too. A lot. More than he'd ever care to admit, really. He was already ten years old and Hadrian didn't look like he'd aged a day and Tom knew that ten years does a lot to a person. Just look at him! He was so tiny before and he could at least reach Hadrian's shoulders now.

The past ten years of his life had been great and full of excitement everyday that Tom was almost dreading to go to Hogwarts. He'd been doing conscious wandless and wordless magic since he was Two and everything that he needed to learn had been drilled into his head. Hadrian hadn't discriminated either. He'd taught Tom both Dark, Neutral and Light magicks, from Patronuses to the Cruciatus curse, from the cheering charm to the Nightmare Encapsulating curse and so on and so forth. He was even taught how to play piano with what little Hadrian knew and learned some other miscellaneous things while he was at it. Granted, he soaked up knowledge like a sponge so it wasn't as if it was a chore and he always had something to do, Hadrian made sure of it.

Sure, there were days that Hadrian sat tom on his lap as they just talked about anything and everything as Hadrian guided him to create his own principles by giving equal amounts of proof for both sides of every argument that Hadrian could think of. It was like an extensive ethics class where Tom was practiced in making decisions should they ever come up.

Tom inherited Hadrian's distaste for human fear and irrationality, though. Hadrian spoke about the Mundanes finding them and exterminating them if they never stood their ground. Tom and Hadrian wasn't above force when needed but never too much as that would spoil the game that they had designed to play.

He'd finish Hogwarts and create ties with the next generation that he was supposed to lead and pull up (even when he's so far off the learning curve that it isn't even funny anymore) while Hadrian works with the other purebloods on policy and making sure that the magical children everywhere would be treated with the respect that they deserve. There was also the brainwashing of the whole school population for them to realize that muggles were destroying the Wizarding culture with their mugglish ways. Maybe even start a class that taught all and every Muggleborn what they don't know about the Wizarding world (It was Hadrian's idea).

Tom knew that there was still going to be a lot of problems in the future but he already knows what he wants to do and how to get there that he was pretty sure that there was nothing stopping them now.

Well, that's the future at least, now he had a Sorting to get to.

Not that there's any question as to where he's going, really.

"It better be… SLYTHERIN!"

-fin-

'A/N: Hello! I know I promised a new chapter on WITA, but I'm pretty sure that it was going to make a dark turn if I didn't manage to get this out of my system first, so voila! Time traveler Harry raises Tom! Woohoo!

And don't even hope. XD There's not gonna be another chapter of this. XD

For those who wants to know I've decided that I'm pro-Slytherin so expect there to be more reckless Gryffs in the future. Ron will get a redemption arc or something though, so don't worry. XD I just like them with their cool and collected auras. They're much nicer to write than shallow let's save them all kind of thing (blame cywscross for her (his?) brilliant fics C'est La Vie and Dead Man Walking. Those kinda cemented my Slytherin loyalty. Three cheers for Regulus Arcturus Black. XD) Though I doubt I did Hadrian justice. I just can't do that awesomeness that those others could do without more practice. This one is more freewriting than something I planned for anyway so.

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