Work Text:
A/N: This dumb short ficlet was totally inspired by Flayu’s amazing work.
I know this story might be confusing. The main thing that will make it easier to understand is to let go entirely of what happened in the HP book series. Tom meets Harry in the Chamber of Secrets in his fifth year of Hogwarts, not the second year, and all things that did happen in canon somewhat happened in this verse.
Just in a different way.
Please do not repost, recreate or translate.
Summary: Being the Chosen One was so tiresome to Tom, so boring . The only one who seemed to see him for his potential was the Dark Lord known as Harry Potter.
Warnings: Alternative universe, dark!Harry, grey!Tom, mentions of manipulative!Dumbledore, Ginny dies
Bad Reputation
'I don't give a damn about my bad reputation. You're living in the past, this is a new generation.'
Tom had known his time at Hogwarts would be horribly eventful the moment that oaf named Hagrid kicked down his uncle's front door to deliver an acceptance letter to a school Tom had never applied for. There had just been something about meeting a half-Giant and discovering a whole new magical world that screamed to Tom that maybe things would never be the same again.
Although predicting the future had not been one of Tom's many talents he had been painfully right.
It had been five years since the day he had first met Rubeus Hagrid and Tom had spent most of his time trying to avoid getting killed by a certain Dark Lord. Five school years spent in that horrible Gryffindor house, which he had undoubtedly been sorted into because Dumbledore had wanted to make Tom seem like he was more of a good kid than he actually was. Five summers spent at the Gaunts who were abusive and rude , five Christmases spent wandering about Hogwarts, discovering something new about the castle every day.
Tom had not expected life to still be so dull now that he knew that he indeed was special, better than others. Tom had expected the Gaunts (who were all Squibs) to respect him now but they only feared him at most when he’d show them his wand. They hated it when he spoke of magic because they could not perform any.
Being the Chosen One was so tiresome to Tom, so boring . The only one who seemed to see him for his potential was the Dark Lord known as Harry Potter.
Harry Potter, child prodigy much like Tom, orphaned like Tom as well. His life was nothing but destruction and dark secrets, his actions forever stuck in history books. He fought for equality between Dark and Light magic, fully believed that as Wizards and Witches they were the more superior kind. Muggles were just defects of evolution, or so Harry Potter believed - the more Tom dove into his past the more he felt understood. Harry too had been raised by an abusive uncle, his hatred for the filthy actions that Muggles endlessly justified and barely punished fed by his rage. No one had cared, no one had bothered to be his friend as a child.
Just like no one had cared for Tom until they found out he was, in fact, the Chosen One.
The few times Tom and Harry had spoken was before or during battle, fleeting comments hanging in the air just as thick as the magic that crackled all around them. There was a prophecy about a child born at the death of December meant to be the Dark Lord's equal, a perfect match. Everyone believed that this prophecy foretold that Tom Riddle was born to slay the Dark Lord who had installed so much terror on the Magical world that they did not even dare to speak his name anymore, and the audacity of this had led Harry Potter to want to kill Tom just to prove that no one would ever match him in power or intellect.
Tom truly was just convinced that they were meant to be a match in an entirely different way.
They both had this way of looking at things. It was hardly noticeable but it was significant to Tom because they both were so unconventional. Tom had all of his intelligence from books – his fellow Gryffindor Hermione was often jealous of him and seemed to have this personal vendetta against him – and Harry had it from experience. Sometimes in the dead of the night Tom thought to himself that together they’d be invincible.
In reality Tom was a danger to the Wizarding Community in the very same way Harry was.
Tom didn’t want to be a savior. Tom had goals of his own – he wanted to be immortal, infinite, feared and well-known the same way Harry was. He had even created a new name for himself and he was very well on the way of reinventing himself.
Harry had disappeared in the years that Tom was a young child after murdering Tom's mother and father. The love Merope Gaunt had felt for her only son had been the only thing to protect Tom - the killing curse had bounced off him and had rendered Harry Potter nothing but a powerless ghost. A ritual requiring Tom’s blood, his faithful servant's hand and his own father’s bone had made him return stronger than ever.
Harry had not killed Tom that day and Tom wondered why. Because what if Tom had been a righteous Gryffindor? What if he had grown up with the intent to come after Harry one day? Tom wondered to himself if it had been arrogance or if Harry had simply known what Tom was. Tom wondered if Harry had known even then that Tom had been special.
Different, from everyone else.
It was odd how Tom could think of Harry with vague envy and even illicit interest when Harry Potter was the one who had put him in this entire mess.
Tom scowled, his eyes trailing over the feet of the ugly looking statue in front of himself, beyond repulsed at the man’s face. He had hoped that Salazar Slytherin was handsome but it seemed that Tom truly did get all of his good looks from his Muggle father.
Tom had known he had been the heir of Slytherin since his second year at Hogwarts, the only year in which Harry had left him alone. It was like Harry had almost been coaxing him into trying to find out about his family. Tom got his Slytherin heritage from his mother and he wasn’t in the least bit bothered by being a Slytherin when Harry clearly was too. Harry had distantly been related to Salazar – one of his ancestors had been one of the Peverell brothers as well. Very distantly, Tom and Harry were cousins though they shared no DNA anymore.
Classmates started fearing Tom once his ability to speak in Parseltongue became known.
Fine, he didn’t need them anyway.
His eyes trailed down. There was a small redheaded figure at the statue’s feet. Tom wasn’t even interested in saving the girl. She was annoying, constantly followed him around and he had known it had been her to write those stupid messages on the walls and twisting the necks of those roosters the moment he had seen that glassy look in her eyes, those stray feathers in her robes.
So then why was he rescuing her and possibly risking his life? Tom didn’t know. He was bored and it was expected of him and maybe, just maybe, the thought of being capable of seeing Harry Potter once more was thrilling to him as well. His eyes fell on the black diary on the ground next to her limp body.
There were a lot of sorts of magic around but Tom would recognize a Horcrux when he saw one. He was busy making his own after all - the only wizard he could imagine capable of making Horcruxes as well was Harry Potter.
Ginny had attempted to steal the diary back from Tom before but Tom had known to hide it somewhere safe, keep it with him. He hadn’t been stupid – he knew the damn thing had been tugging at his magical core every time he wrote in it. Like it had been feeding off himself.
Tom had given it back to Ginny eventually after seeing all the memories 16 year old Harry Potter had wanted him to see. The teen had been pleasantly surprised to see that he had been beautiful at that age – piercing green eyes, pale skin, messy hair. A strong confident posture no matter his short frame. Tom had often spent his time trying to reach out and touch him, whenever caught up in one of Harry’s undoubtedly tampered memories.
Tom had given it back because he had kind of hoped Ginny would get killed by it. She appeared very close to dying right now so it was a job well done – he could tell from all the way up from where he was standing that she was barely breathing.
But he also knew that Dumbledore wouldn’t trust his word when he’d say that she simply had been dead already. He’d want to see Tom’s memory in his Pensieve – would undoubtedly try to get past the thick Occlumency walls Tom had put up in his mind, with good reason. He knew the man had been prying in his mind and Tom had been very wise to teach himself how to stop that from happening again.
Tom started running, putting up a great façade of being worried. Once he got at her side he gasped, though he secretly only felt glee at seeing her in this state and he grabbed her hand and started shaking her.
‘Ginny, please wake up!’ he exclaimed, his voice tinged in desperation that he didn’t actually feel, ‘Ginny, don’t be dead – please don’t be dead!’
Tom put up a great show of pocketing his wand and dragging her head into his lap. Her face was white as marble and just as cold, her eyes were closed.
Lovely.
‘Wake up, wake up,’ he murmured, struggling to keep the pleased smirk off his face. This was just perfect. He had finally gotten rid of her, Dumbledore would think Tom had done everything in his power and that his Chosen One was just as flawless as he told everyone he was…
‘She won’t wake,’ a soft voice said from somewhere behind him. Tom’s shoulders tensed all of a sudden, pleased amusement entirely gone, replaced by a feeling of anticipation. He knew that voice.
Tom knew that voice because he had been fantasizing about it breathing out his name in all different tones of desperation and although Tom couldn’t sense his presence very strongly, he could feel him somewhat as well.
It was Harry Potter. The Dark Lord was standing right behind Tom.
Tom turned around slowly, remaining on his knees and he took him in slowly – he was the exact same way Tom had seen him in the memory. Raven-haired, beautiful. Harry was strangely blurred around the edges as though Tom was looking at him through a misted window but there was no mistaking him.
Tom wouldn’t forget a pretty face like that.
He studied Harry, watching as the teen stood there, watching him. His face didn’t appear to be showing any emotion but Tom thought he saw an inkling of what Harry was thinking. He was sizing Tom up as well. Harry’s eyes rested on Tom’s lips for just that brief moment before they finally connected with Tom's. Tom’s scar throbbed a bit but he couldn’t help the lazy smirk that spread on his face.
Harry found him attractive as well. Turned out Tom’s Muggle father had been at least good for something.
‘That’s just as well…’ Tom murmured. Harry was just refusing to take his eyes off Tom or so it seemed anyway. Harry seemed to be glowing like he was a ghost. Ginny laid forgotten behind Tom and there was a brief confusion in Harry’s eyes at his reply like it wasn’t what he had expected. Tom temporarily took his eyes off Harry, gazing at the little black diary next to Ginny’s form. Briefly Tom wondered if this part of Harry’s soul had been lonely when he’d been trapped within its pages.
But there were more pressing matters to deal with.
‘I’ve waited a long time for this, Tom Riddle,’ Harry started, ‘For the chance to see you. To speak to you.’
‘So have I,’ Tom replied, smirk still in place. Harry’s eyebrows rose and then he smirked back at Tom. He seemed pleasantly surprised with this and although Tom knew that Harry’s older self was cruel and way too impatient to indulge Tom enough for a conversation, his teenage self was not. This version of the Dark Lord was playful, teasing.
‘This is an interesting piece of magic you’ve performed,’ Tom continued. ‘You were trapped in the pages of the diary and fed off the life energy of whomever that wrote in you. You seem to be getting stronger each passing minute. ’
‘Well thought,’ Harry complimented him. ‘Ten points to Gryffindor.’
Tom glanced down at his own Hogwarts robes as if Harry had been stating they’d been stained and he couldn’t help the irritated scowl on his face at the sight of the Gryffindor crest on his chest, on his tie. He envied Harry for his own set of Hogwarts robes. Harry had the Slytherin crest on his chest.
‘Something tells me that you're a snake stuck in a lion's den, Tom Riddle.’ It intrigued Tom how Harry insisted on saying his name all the time but he chose not to ask questions about it. Instead Tom nodded and looked Harry right in the eye again. He wanted to show Harry that he was not afraid of him even if Harry had murdered before. He wanted Harry to know that Tom Riddle feared no one.
‘I am not sure if I should be worried or flattered to know that you’re the only one who notices this. Either my acting skills are very good or simply nobody cares.’
‘It’s likely to assume that it’s a combination of those two,’ Harry replied. There was a certain hunger in his expression and Tom found it entirely… Sexy. Tom folded his arms over his chest and released a soft breath while Harry came closer to him.
‘It’s strange,’ Harry murmured, circling Tom, trying to get a better look of him quite obviously. ‘It’s like a part of me is just anxious to…’
Harry reached out a hand to touch Tom’s scar but Tom’s hand was quick to grasp it. Or, at least, attempt to – trying to grasp Harry’s hand was like trying to grasp a handful of water. You could feel its temperature, feel that it was there, but not solid enough to actually take hold of it for long. It slipped right through his long fingers.
For a moment they stared incredulously at each other as if they had not expected this. Which was silly, Tom thought to himself. They were both very intelligent after all.
‘You’re unlike what I’ve expected of you, Tom Riddle. Ginny spoke of you. She said -’
‘That I am goodness itself, I assume?’ Harry closed his mouth, but there was an amused glint in his eyes.
‘Yes,’ Harry breathed. He started looking more solid with each passing minute and Tom nodded.
‘That’s what everyone wants to believe. That’s what everyone tells me to be, too, but I am not interested in the Light. At all.’
‘Is that so,’ the ghost-like figure mused. He started moving again and Tom stayed perfectly still not in fear or submission but in mild interest. He was curious as to what Harry might do and no matter how overzealous this most likely was, Tom did not think Harry wanted to harm him. Not right now anyway.
‘Sometimes Tom has this look in his eyes, and it frightens me, ’ Harry cited, ‘ sometimes, I think to myself, what if Tom is unhappy? Will we all suffer if he decides to run away some day and leave us all to fight the Dark Lord? ’
Harry seemed to be desiring some sort of reaction of Tom but Tom stayed perfectly calm, so Harry continued, ‘ Sometimes I fear Tom. He is too perfect – he is handsome, he is intelligent, he is talented. He is too good to be true. But then he makes a funny comment and I find myself falling deeper and deeper in love with him with each breath I take. Every time my eyes connect with his I feel funny, I feel warm in all the right ways.’
This time Tom’s lip curled up in disgust. Harry laughed and he was standing right behind Tom now – he was shorted than Tom. He could barely reach Tom’s shoulders yet, when Harry rested his hands on Tom’s biceps he could feel a little bit of their weight, of their strength. The knowledge that those hands had killed before was strangely dizzying to Tom in a way that was entirely alright with him.
‘I long for Tom,’ Harry whispered, ‘I long to be by Tom’s side, to have his attention on me. I know I am just a silly little girl, but one day I’ll be a grown-up. One day I will be a strong woman, worthy of standing by Tom’s side.’
Harry’s hands slid down to Tom’s wrists, which he wrapped his fingers around. Tom could feel a bit of body heat now accompanying Harry’s touch. Ginny was very close to dying.
‘I wrote back to her,’ Harry continued in that low, teasing voice. He released Tom’s wrists again and Tom turned around to look at him. Harry’s eyes had darkened, the words had turned Harry on. ‘I told her, tell me more about this Tom. Tell me what he looks like, what he smells like, tell me what makes you love him so. I found myself growing obsessed. I found myself infatuated with the mere thought of what you could be like and I knew that I had to talk to you, meet you if I could. And then you took the diary from her and you started writing. Did you know? Every time someone wrote in the diary, I could feel what they were like. I could feel inklings of their souls.’
Tom did not know. Tom knew how to make a Horcrux, he had secretly already made a list with objects he wanted to put particles of his soul into but he didn’t know what it was like for a Horcrux to be trapped.
He loved watching Harry talk, every word interesting, feeding Tom new information.
‘You kept me talking. You showed me those memories just to have me keep you longer,’ Tom concluded. Harry hummed.
‘I wanted your soul, you were perfect,’ Harry admitted. He looked evil when he looked at Tom like that and it sent delicious shivers down Tom’s spine. ‘Alas, you were too intelligent. You knew I could kill you. You wisely returned me to the Weasley girl, though I must admit that the real you is much…’
Harry seemed to consider Tom for a moment. The way his eyes raked over Tom’s body made him feel naked and Tom was reminded of how Harry was an actual killer. Harry didn’t mind killing people and Harry definitely didn’t mind harming them. The only thing holding Tom back from doing all those things himself was the vague sense of morality he still had.
Tom just knew that one little push was enough to let go of said morality.
‘…More interesting,’ Harry finished.
‘Interesting,’ Tom parroted, tasting the word on his own lips. They stared at each other for a bit longer before Harry moved away again.
‘She’s going to die soon, Gryffindor. What are you going to do about it?’
‘I think that I will let you have her. There are plenty of Weasleys after all.’
Harry looked surprised. ‘Then why did you come?’
‘Dumbledore,’ Tom simply replied. The ghost of a smile played at Harry’s features and he chuckled.
‘Dumbledore,’ he repeated. It was just a name but Tom knew that Harry knew what he meant. Dumbledore was an insufferable fool. ‘I trusted Dumbledore once. Until I found out he raised me like a pig for slaughter.’
Tom did not speak because there were no words to say to that. A simple I’m sorry would do but Tom Riddle did not apologize, he did not feel pity or remorse. He was above that and so was Harry.
‘So you are not going to try to fight this?’ Harry inquired again. He sounded amazed if not slightly confused and that somehow greatly pleased Tom.
‘No,’ Tom replied, ‘I’d say you get your body back and I get to keep my life. You are actually doing me a favor by killing off that stupid girl and if you do not mind, I have another favor to ask of you.’
Harry licked his lips hungrily as he stared at Tom. He was close, close enough for Tom to touch, close enough to kiss. ‘And what, pray tell, would that be?’ Harry whispered.
‘Take me with you,’ Tom said, ‘you are not of this time. I can be your guide, I do not wish to side with the Light any longer. Their ideas are wrong and old. I hereby pledge allegiance to the Dark.’
‘What makes you think I would desire a traitor by my side?’ Harry instantly demanded.
‘What makes you think I am a traitor? Maybe I was simply born on the wrong side.' Harry chuckled, delighted mirth shining in his eyes. He was becoming more and more solid... And as Harry grew more solid, he reached out and touched Tom's face, and this time Tom could feel it properly.
'You are rather beautiful,' Harry observed. 'And undoubtedly, if my older self sees you as a threat... Then you must have powers. Alas, my trust comes at a high price. How much are you willing to pay?'
'As much as necessary,' Tom stated.
Harry's eyebrows rose.
'Kill her.' Tom paused and his heart started beating fast at that thought. Killing someone? He had fantasized about it... But he never had the chance. Would he be able to?
'What?' he still couldn't help but ask. Harry's smirk grew. He was exquisite... Beautiful.
'Surely, you know the spell. Kill her and show me your worth.' Of course he knew. And nothing would hold him back nor would he ever be blamed... As the Chosen One he was the portrait of innocence and people would undoubtedly think that the evil Harry Potter had committed the murder and that he had taken Tom with him to torture. It would be the perfect crime.
Tom licked his lips.
'Alright,' Tom nodded. Harry's eyes widened a bit like he hadn't expected it and as Harry's body was completely solidified and Ginny Weasley started breathing out her dying breaths, Harry stood close to Tom, his hands snaking over Tom's chest, continiously staring with those endless green eyes. He was doing nothing but ending her suffering anyway, she'd been dying slowly and painfully for Merlin knows how long.
She would be grateful Tom ended her.
'Avada Kedavra,' Tom stated and green light shot from his wand, lighting up the entire Chamber momentarily. The sight was beautiful... and she died, just like that. Tom felt his fingertips shake and he blinked – trying to comprehend he had just ended a human life. The feeling was amazing, empowering. Was this what Harry felt when he killed?
''Yes, I think you will do, mister Riddle,'' Harry decided and Tom looked at him as Harry stood close to him, so close Tom could feel his breath. Yes... Harry was human once more.
Tom startled as Harry kissed him hungrily but after a split second, Tom kissed him back.
From that moment on, he was no longer the Chosen One.
The world would later know him as Lord Voldemort.