The Things You See in a Graveyard - 2

Harry/Tom got to his feet. He absorbed the remnants of Tom Riddle's soul, gaining all of the knowledge and memories of the young man. Truly, this wizard was a genius. Charms, Transfigurations, Runes, Alchemy, Potions, Arithmancy, and even Herbology just clicked for him. Combining all of that meant that he was rather adept at creating new spells, altering existing ones, and had the skillset to be an Enchanter. Not only that, he was incredibly powerful. It made him realize just how out-classed he had been in his previous life. Tom was also deeply, excruciatingly terrified. He was much too proud to admit it, but the not-yet-Voldemort was afraid almost every day of his life.

It was strange to see the life of a man who had haunted him play out. Memories of nights huddled in the sorry excuse of a basement of the orphanage while Germans bomb the city were not something he ever wanted to experience. The original plan of Lord Voldemort was driven completely by fear and Harry didn't blame him. He wanted to make a safe place for all magical people. That was it. No Pureblood Supremacy, Muggle Purge, or Magical Civil War. Take the island of Britain and make it a safe place for all witches and wizards. He was smart enough to see that Muggleborns and Half-Bloods were absolutely required to keep the magical community alive. The Purebloods had the money and influence to give it the push.

Harry… Tom. His name was Tom. He could get used to this.

This Tom could admit that was a decent idea. Maybe he could get the original idea to work without killing at least a third of the magical population. The inspiration was obvious. It was currently 1943. World War Two still had another couple of years to go and this was his Fifth Year. As a Half-Blood, his life outside of Hogwarts did not look good. Either live as a second-class citizen in the Magical World or try to survive as yet another Muggle trying not to get blown up by a stray German bombing raid. Would his reputation and legend he had earned in school follow him or would the Pureblood's that he had cowed suddenly realize he had very little power over them.

He felt something solid hold him up. Tom looked over his shoulder to see it was the head of a familiar snake instead of a wall. The last time he had been so close to the basilisk had been a moment before going into its mouth. Tom could feel his entire body freeze as he looked into the large eyes. He wasn't petrified, or dead, so something was different. Maybe he could die?

<Master,> the Basilisk said. <You just died.>

<Yes,> Tom nodded. <I did.>

A memory surfaced of a previous interaction with the creature. The basilisk had a membrane that it could use to block its deadly vision. Her name also came to mind, Catalina.

<You live,> Catalina stated.

<That I do,> Tom brushed himself off. <Remind me, Catalina, have we killed anyone?>

<No,> the basilisk shook her head. <You wanted me to wait. Did you change your mind?>

<Yes and no,> he tapped the journal with the tip of his shoe. <I have changed my mind; we shouldn't kill anyone at the moment.>

<That is good news,> Catalina sighed.

Tom knew from both lives that snakes were more emotive than given credit, but it was still funny to see. A giant magical creature that could kill with a look just sighed in relief.

<Plans are going to change,> Tom continued. <Is there enough prey in the forest for you to survive?>

<Magical energy sustains me just as much as food,> Catalina answered.

<That sounds good,> Tom nodded. <Keep the grounds safe, exercise caution with the other creatures living there. Find me if you need me.>

<You are setting me free?> Cataline asked.

A memory floated to the front of his mind. He had enslaved Catalina shortly after opening the Chamber. Tom could admit he made some mistakes handling things dealing with the basilisk. A scared young man suddenly having control of a mythical being that could kill with a glance did not lead to him exercising self-discipline. Following that train of thought, there was another student that had a dangerous creature that required attention.

Tom closed his eyes to focus on his memories. He had explored the Chamber thoroughly in this life. There were quite a few secrets that Harry had missed. This place was made to function as something akin to an air-raid shelter. As such, there were a couple of rows of dorm rooms that were duplicates of those in the castle with the same furniture, décor, and color scheme. The staff were covered as well with private quarters for each attached to a classroom. Truly, they could live under Hogwarts for quite a while if needed. The true treasure came in the form of Salazar Slytherin's private suite. It had master bedroom, full-sized bathroom, and an attached study. The books he found inside were part of the reason Tom was so advanced. Each one was packed full of knowledge that had been long forgotten. The notations in the margins were priceless as well.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a sudden motion in the corner of his eye. The mythic form of the basilisk smoothly shifted into that of a woman. She was tall, regal, with shine to her skin that was in the very subtle pattern of scales. Her eyes were a rich gold, her long, black hair flowed on some unseen breeze.

Tom stared at her. Partially because she was also completely nude. A much larger inspiration was the fact that a giant snake just turned into a woman.

"I didn't know a basilisk could do that," Tom muttered.

"They can't," Catalina replied in perfect English. "I, however, was born on a nexus of magical power, and have lived my entire, vast, life in one."

"You didn't tell me about this before," Tom said after a moment.

"You were my 'master' before," that one word dripped venom.

"Oh," Tom shuffled his school robe and offered it to her. "You must be cold."

"Hm?" Catalina looked down at her body, then let out a playful laugh. "Right, nudity makes you humans uncomfortable."

Catalina strolled over to him. Her strides flowed smoothly from one to the next. Tom had to tilt his head up to look her in the eye and he wasn't short.

"Can other magical creatures change their shape?" Tom asked.

"I have no clue," Catalina shrugged. "Conversation hasn't been in supply for the last few hundred years."

"Are you going to stay here?" Tom asked.

"You set me free," she gave him a gentle smile. "There is an entire world I would love to see." She paused. "Do not fear. Hogwarts will call out to me if she is in need."

Tom nodded. A telepathic link between a mythical creature and a magical academy made perfect sense, all things considered. He shook the encroaching fugue away.

"You will need money and clothes," he said quickly. "Do you know how that works?"

Catalina let out a hiss of laughter.

"I've lived my entire life under a school," she replied after a moment. "I know a few things. Everything else is a learning experience."

Catalina held her hand out. A satchel appeared in the air then dropped into her grip. She reached inside and pulled out a fresh outfit. Tom furrowed his brow. She rolled her wrist, wiggling her fingers along with the motion. The basilisk was dressed in fresh clothing and his robe appeared on the ground in front of him folded nicely.

"If you'll excuse me," Catalina said with a smile in her voice. "I have a world to explore."

"Stay out of the Muggle world," Tom said quickly. "It's war right now."

"I know," she said softly. "Be safe, Thomas."

"Thank you," he cleared his throat, trying to ignore the small lump that appeared for no reason. "You be safe too."

~

Tom used the main passage for the Chamber rather than the tunnel for Catalina. A set of spiral stairs led up to a secret door behind an abstract painting of melting doors in a variety of progression. The hall was well out of the way of normal traffic. There weren't nearly as many empty classrooms as in the future. It was insane to see how big an impact the war had on the magical population. Imagine that.

He tried to run through the names of the students he could remember. The normal names were there, Black, Malfoy, Bones, Potter, and Lestrange, but the attached students weren't ones he knew in his former life. These were the grandparents, or rare set of parents, to the people Harry had attended Hogwarts with.

There were only two students he could connect to his previous life. Minerva McGonagall was a Sixth Year Gryffindor, and Rubeus Hagrid was a Second Year Hufflepuff. Minerva was a prefect but didn't give him a hard time. She spent time with Dumbledore for lessons in Advanced Transfiguration The meddling bastard didn't have quite as much influence currently.

Seeing it from Tom's point of view, Dumbledore was a hard-ass professor that blatantly favored Gryffindor. In truth, he wasn't as bad as Snape, but the divide was smaller than expected. No wonder the old man never thought too much about complaints. Being in Slytherin meant that your grade would never get more than Acceptable in his class. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students were treated with professional indifference.

He shifted his attention back to the matter at hand. His duties as a prefect allowed him more privileges than the standard student. In the past he had used these advantages to start and maintain his own information network, smuggling ring, and underground potions operation. There was a standard Dueling Club and an unofficial version in place long before he had become a student. Oddly enough, Tom didn't allow his businesses to discriminate. Also, the potions weren't anything worse than sneaking booze. In fact, it was actually safer considering Tom had designed them personally. Not to mention the nutritional supplements, healing potions, and dozens of other things he could sneak back to the Muggle world. Rationing wasn't easy on anyone, especially not an orphanage where most of the children had been moved out of the city. Anyone under the age of sixteen had been shipped off to the countryside. Tom hadn't been included. He already spent most of the year in some far-off castle, why would he need to stay with some random family that he didn't know?

It was already after curfew. He would need to track down Hagrid tomorrow. Tonight wasn't his night to be on patrol. He could play it off with a little charm, but he'd rather not have to interact with others right now.

Tom stopped himself as he got to the stairway. He naturally headed to the Gryffindor Tower to go to sleep. It was only the fact that the stairs weren't ready that he wasn't half-way up the tower. He turned to correct his course, this time heading to the Dungeons. He was Tom Riddle. Tom was in Slytherin. He would have to keep that in mind.

His body moved on instinct, cutting through side-passages and slipping down unknown stairs with practiced ease. He completely bypassed the entrance to the dungeon he had used in his other life and found a secondary door. Memory told him that this was for Fifth Year students and above. The public entry was for other houses and underclassmen. This one led to a private lounge area that was better furnished and had its own House Elf staff. Tom had known about it since his Second Year.

Tom gave the sole House Elf a small nod in acknowledgement without breaking his stride. He made it to his private room without issue. The weight of the day, both of them, hit him all of a sudden when he laid eyes on the bed. Phantom aches and pains from his run through the maze and capture bled together with magical exhaustion from his attempt at Horcrux construction. Thankfully, he hadn't arranged for Myrtle to be killed yet. Her death was what fueled the creation. Tom wondered if the previous incarnation had sent Catalina up to kill the girl once the ritual didn't work. The process of creating a Horcrux was, at best, muddled in his memory. Either the process of his soul taking over this body had scrambled his short-term memories, or Death had decided to use the chance to obscure the knowledge.

He could only hope that he woke up to the sound of Ron snoring or Seamus talking in his sleep. A very large part of him said that wasn't going to happen. His experience in his other life and the genius he now had access to catalogued plenty of evidence of this being real. Harry wasn't stupid, but he was nowhere near as creative to come up with years of detailed memories. Tom was capable of constructing a plausible timeline, but he wouldn't paint that bleak of a future.

Tom had already made some changes to the timeline. Tomorrow, he was going to do a lot more.