Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc,. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Note: [12/23/10] I have gone back and rewritten this chapter. It's longer by perhaps 400 more words.
LISTENING TO: Good Morning by IU
It was like any other day at number four, Privet Drive, lonely, but instead of being the normal summer's day, it was cold and wind with clouds blanketing the sky. Harry sighed deeply when he remembered that the next day was his birthday, and more than likely, it was going to rain.
It was a sign that it was going to be a bad birthday; an annual event really, so should Harry be surprised that it would be pouring cats and dogs? The sky gave a little roar and Harry was sure that somewhere close, the rain was being merciless.
Today, his Aunt Petunia had gone shopping, his Uncle Vernon was at work, and his cousin Dudley was probably smoking some pot on some street corner with his friends.
Harry walked down the stairs and headed towards the clean and tidy kitchen. His gaze fell on the table he wasn't allowed to sit on anymore, then at the small kitchen's sink. Turning on his heel, Harry walked towards the living room and stared at the television he was never allowed to watch. All those normal things he couldn't do in his relative's house, he could do right now. Perhaps if he sat in the dinning chair hard enough, his presence would be imprinted there. He could always think of it as 'his' chair just like whenever he looked at the cupboard under the stairs, he thought of it as 'his' cupboard.
Harry slowly went back to his room and looked into his small closet for the only things he bothered to take out of his Hogwart's trunk. He got his sneakers, one of his old jackets and then proceeded to pull up the zipper on the worn out, navy jacket as he straightened himself out.
Hedwig was in the corner of the room, too busy to pay him any mind, preening. Harry softly smiled as he gazed at her; she didn't seem to have a care in the world but that didn't stop the pang of sadness he also felt as he watched his poor pet. Hedwig hadn't been let out of her cage since Harry came back from school and she had been a good owl and hadn't made any disruptive noise that could enrage his relatives thus far. Harry had a theory that Hedwig also was attuned to his mood. She would sometimes croon softly at him when he was just staring up at the ceiling, lost in his despair over losing Sirius. "Don't worry, you still have me." He could imagine her saying.
Closing the door, Harry made his way again downstairs, this time heading for the front door.
Almost mindlessly, Harry began wondering around the neighborhood, he looked at all the similar houses and tried to spot the differences. One house he could see bright pink curtains, in another, the house had cats pacing back and forth and lazying around the dried grass. Amused, Harry kept walking. Mrs. Figg probably wasn't home; otherwise, the cats wouldn't have been outside at all, they'd be keeping her company with all the other hundreds of cats in her house. With purpose now, Harry started towards the local park. The gloominess of the day seemed to have scared off any other inhabitants. Thus he was alone and the swing set was his to conquer. Harry closed his eyes, while swinging slightly, and began to hum the soft sounds of Mozart's Lacrimosa; the Hogwarts choir had sang this softly for the rest of the school during one of the last remaining days of the school year.
Harry opened his eyes only to find a young man, probably his age, staring down at him. The person in question had black hair, much like his, and hazel eyes.
"Can I help you?" Harry asked. He was a bit miffed this someone interrupted his, er, humming.
The guy smiled and the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood up. "No." He said, "But I feel a bit... lonely today and I couldn't but notice you were also. Would you mind, how would you say, accompanying me somewhere? Perhaps a restaurant of some sort."
Harry's eyes widened as he became nervous. No one in their sane mind would ever accept such an offer. This felt like one of those scenes you'd hear about when some was about to get snuffed behind an alley way. Yet, Harry didn't know what this person was on about but he did have enemies, primarily Voldemort. Was this someone who plotted to take him to Voldemort?
"Er," Harry began, "It's all right, I think I'd rather be left alone."
Harry thought he saw the guy glare at him, but Harry wasn't sure. But the next thing he knew, the man sat next to him on a swing. "Well, I guess I'll join you."
Oh shit. Harry thought, I have to get away from him. Harry began making up excuses before it got too dark and people began to leave. The last thing he wanted was to be alone with him
"So," the hazel eyed man began, a grin on his face, "I don't believe I have introduced myself. My name is Tom Riddle."
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck…
Harry was in deep trouble. With the power he didn't even know, he began with a calm voice. "Well, I guess you know who I am."
Tom smirked. "How could I not? You are, after all, responsible for my downfall."
Harry never imagined this was the way Voldemort was finally going to get him. Who would have thought? And why hasn't a wand been pulled out yet? How come he wasn't dead already?
His face felt so cold, the wind seemed to have become sharper, more biting. Harry closed his eyes bidding himself to stay calm. If he were to die he was going down with dignity. Maybe he should have listened to Dumbledore and stayed indoors. This was due to his disobedience and naivety. Again.
"So what do you want?"
"You know," Voldemort began, "I have asked myself the same thing. What do I want? And you know what I have concluded? I want you."
Here it comes. "Did you really have to take time to figure that out?" Harry said sarcastically, eyeing the ground, watching the leaves rustle around from the wind.
"I think you misheard me. I want you. But not dead. Oh no. You are too precious for that. I want you as my heir."
Harry finally opened his eyes. What? Was he joking? Would he truly be that cruel? Yet the answer came as instantly as he questioned it. He was the Dark Lord after all. "It seems you don't need one. You look healthy enough." Harry had been trying not to think of the significance of Voldemort's sudden youthful figure. Hopes he had of Voldemort kneeling over and dying from old age were dashed.
"True." Voldemort stated. "But I can't live forever, though I have tried, and there are other ways to have an immortal life."
"That makes no sense."
"Think about itttttt." Voldemort leaned onto Harry, mouth practically covering his ear, the last word hissed almost seductively in his ear. "I just need competent people to carry out my agenda. But I need someone powerful, and there's no denying that you are."
"What makes you so sure I would do as you say?"
"I have my ways. Come and join me. I promise I won't harm you."
Harry snapped, pulling himself away from the leering face. "Who in the world would trust you? Why you are even speaking to me when you can kill me right now? Stop being such a fucking bastard and fucking kill me already."
Voldemort smirked. "Really? Wow." Voldemort's handsome face leaned in again. Harry didn't even have it in him to back away, his heart seemed to have stopped, his hands were shaking and his throat seemed determined to not let him breathe. "You and I are very alike. Know that. I know more than anyone that you feel alone and desperate. But the question is, do you really want that?" Harry felt Voldemort smirk. "And you know what? What if you were to defeat me? What then? What will happen when you try to go back to normal?"
Voldemort pulled back and tisked. "Why, everyone would hate you. Everyone will bow down to you at first, sure. But what if a new Dark Lord arises and starts killing off people, hm? Do you know what? They will begin to blame you for that. They would start saying all these lies about you, finally shunning you." Voldemort smirked cruelly. "Is that what you really want?"
"No, but this isn't about what I want."
"You're right. But doesn't that make it all the more pathetic?"
"Come with me. I'll even spare people of your choice."
"No." Harry got up and stepped back from the swing set.
Voldemort didn't move from the swing he occupied. "Don't be stupid, Potter. Sometimes you have to know when to quit. Do you really think you have a chance to defeat me? Prophecy or no prophecy, there is no hope for you. Face the facts. There is no way to beat me. Come now and save people. Come now and become whatever you want to be. I'll give you freedom. You'll be my equal."
Voldemort's beautiful face smirked as he saw the uncertainty in Harry's eyes.
"Come and be whoever you want to be. We can even change some things if you'd like. Just be with me."
Harry's emerald green eyes locked into Voldemort's hazel ones. Harry even saw a glimmer of red there. "Fine."