Harry wandered the empty halls of Hogwarts; his face completely blank as he tried to create some kind of order to his clouded mind. It was a month after the Triwizard Tournament when Voldemort had attacked Privet Drive, killing both Petunia and Vernon in the process. The blood that ran through Voldemort's veins allowed him through the Blood Wards Lily Potter had created. The attack had been covered up by two muggles with modified memories found at the scene of the crime with a thousand pounds worth of jewellery stolen from a local pawn shop and a muggle hand gun. Dumbledore and Sirius both decided that Hogwarts would be the safest place for him, considering that it was nearly always inhabited by some of the teachers and Dumbledore himself.
Harry still felt numb from all that had happened on that dreadful night. He'd told no one, because no one would be able to understand or even comprehend what had happened between himself and Tom Riddle. When Harry's blood fell into the cauldron and merged with Voldemort, something happened to him.
Wormtail staggered back to the cauldron with Harry's blood. He poured it inside and Harry felt a burning pain deep inside of him as the liquid within turned, instantly, a blinding white. Let it have drowned, thought Harry, please let it have gone wrong…
And then, suddenly, an explosion of emotions, feeling and memories hit Harry via his scar, which began to bleed furiously. A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron, obliterating Harry's now bloodstained view. For every millisecond that the steam obscured his sight, more visions flooded his mind. Harry felt a deep hatred and suffering rush through him with a mixture of other emotions and visions. Voldemort's entire life flashed before his eyes and for just a moment one vision stood out to him and he understood why Voldemort had become Voldemort.
He saw a young Tom Riddle climb down into the Chamber of secrets to discover the carcass of a young red dragon being torn apart by the Slytherin's Basilisk. A pain filled his very being as he ran towards the Basilisk, hissing orders to cease, in an attempt to save the young dragon which he had name Voldemort. The vision faded with Riddle screaming into the side of the carcass, tears running down his face.
When the vision ended, Harry saw through the mist in front of him the outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron.
-End of Flashback-
He'd adopted all of Voldemort's thoughts, feelings, memories and emotions when their connection grew stronger. He was sure that now Voldemort's presence would forever be within his mind as every time he closed his eyes, things came to him. Within three days, the young wizard had learned the whole of the Hogwarts curriculum; after a week, the entire Hogwarts library. Within the month, he had learned why Voldemort was Voldemort, he'd learned more about Slytherin and the Chamber of Secrets and even an ancient group called the Dragon Riders – he had learned Voldemort's entire life up until the moment of his Rebirth.
He stepped into Moaning Myrtle's; opening the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets and calling upon the stairs to take him down like those for Dumbledore's Office. Moving through the antechamber, Harry hissed for the interwoven snakes protecting the main chamber to open and stepped through, quickly making his way to the statue of Slytherin himself, past the towering pillars of spitting snakes and the decaying corpse of the massive Basilisk.
Knowing that parts of a Basilisk would go for hundreds of Galleons on the market, Harry made a mental note of coming back one day to harvest it, as he knew Riddle had once thought of doing to fund his campaign. As Harry came across the small pool the Basilisk was half submerged in, he stepped in, wading to the centre and hissing, "Study." The dark chamber around him disappeared and he was no longer standing in the pool, but an expansive Library that surrounded a large writing desk. Harry sneezed. Everything was covered in dust, which was not surprising considering it had been more than Fifty years since anyone had been in there.
Casting a quick spell, the room was clear of dust and Harry sat down at the desk and picked up the book left by the young Riddle. The History of the Dragon Riders. It had no author. Harry didn't even bother trying to open the book, as it was only locked to those without a Gedwëy Insignia. And it's time to test if I have one as well.
"Treasury," Hissed Harry. The study was replaced with a small stone room without any doors or windows and only the tiniest hole in the ceiling for air to get in. The room was bare apart from a large pedestal holding a large stone. Harry picked it up and began examining it - Its flawless surface was amethyst in colour, except for thin veins of a pink-red that spiderwebbed across it. The stone was cool and frictionless under his fingers, like hardened silk. Oval and about a foot long, it weighed several pounds, though it felt lighter than it should have. For the first time since before the Third Task, Harry smiled. Something just felt… right.
Well there you go, I felt like writing something. Hope you like it.