The Riddle Answered: A Harry Potter Fanfic

Disclaimer: I do not – REPEAT DO NOT – own Harry Potter or any of its associated characters; all copyright goes to the Empress of Fantasy Writing: JK Rowling; I do own this story and the OC name: Harry James Salazar Rasputin Riddle.

Any OC Spells will be explained at the end of each chapter;


Rather than kill Harry in the graveyard, Tom reveals a startling secret: Harry is his son and his real name is Harry James Salazar Rasputin Riddle: True Heir of Salazar Slytherin and son of Tom Riddle and Bellatrix Lestrange. However, tying up loose ends will be tough, can Harry Riddle cope with the trials and actions of 5th year Hogwarts and, if so, can he cope with Tom's BIGGER Revelation?

Tags: DarkSlytherinHarry; DARK Magic; Character Deaths; Manipulative (borderline desperate) Dumbledore; OOTP AU

Pairings: Harry/Daphne; Draco/Ginny

DEDICATIONS: I would like to thank Tiro for her fic A Different Life and Shadow Bubbles for her fic A Sense of Something Sacred: they are the inspiration behind this story and the recommended reads…

Normal Speech



Tom and Harry's link

Chapter 1: He's Back


Harry struggled and strained against the bonds as he watched the horrific scene before him: a select few members of Voldemort's close circle, the Death Eaters, all watching as Wormtail, the man responsible for Harry's orphaned state, dropped a body into a black cauldron and stepped back.

With frantic cries, Harry tried not to think about the searing pain in his scar, nor did he think about the dead body of Cedric Diggory at his side; instead, he only thought on what was ahead: his visions and dreams about the dark house were now coming to pass; Harry, despite being the sole survivor of the Triwizard Tournament, was now going to die, as he was always meant to, at the hands of the Dark Lord.

The cauldron seemed to fill with green flames, returning Harry's attention to the scene, before a pale, thin figure rose and seemed to inhale the night air like he'd been underwater for longer than humanly possible. The figure had pale skin, cold, murderous red eyes and a pale, bald head that swivelled round before a voice so sibilant it was like ice, hissed, "My wand, Wormtail."

The cowardly Marauder kneeled to his Master before he presented the Dark Lord with his wand, Voldemort not even bothering to acknowledge the presence of the young Gryffindor. Instead, he took another almost desperate breath before he finally looked and, as if to make Harry's night worse, smiled a crocodile smile, before he spoke, "Release the boy, Wormtail."

"B—But Master," stammered Wormtail, "P…Potter is defenceless: he is yours."

"Release him!" snarled the Dark Lord before he watched as the bonds holding Harry to the angel were removed, forcing the Gryffindor to fall with a gasp, his body shaking as he looked to the Dark Lord. However, before Harry could say another word, Voldemort then added, "Are you all right Harry?"

(Piss off,) thought Harry, before he allowed himself to stand, the bigger thought in his mind nagging to be heard; Harry, however, simply shook his shoulders and went to pick up his wand.

Several Death Eaters made a move, but Voldemort commanded, "Leave him: let him get his wand."

(Okay,) thought Harry, (Now Tom's creeping me out.) However, as he went to pick up his wand, Harry jumped back as a flash of green light sparked from the tip of his wand and stung his hand, almost like a snake was inside his wand and it had struck him.

Wheeling round, Harry narrowed his eyes before he asked, "What have you done to my wand Tom?"

"I have done nothing Harry," replied Tom, "Please, pick up your wand so I can check you out."

(Check me out,) thought Harry, (What? Did that ritual make Tom senile and…into me?) He shuddered at the thought, before he then finally allowed the bigger thought to be heard as Parseltongue.

{Tom said was I all right? Like he cared for me? But why? Did that blood do something to him?}

Turning, Harry bent down once again and jumped back as the flash now burned at his hand; however, when he looked up again, Harry saw Tom was standing behind him, holding out a hand to Harry.

"Are you all right Harry?" asked the Dark Lord, watching as Harry rubbed at the burned scar on his hand.

"Fine," snarled Harry, "Why Tom? Do you need your victims healthy before you murder them?"

"Harry," gasped Tom, watching as Harry tried once more to pick up his wand and once more he was burned, "Why would I want to hurt you? Don't you know what you are to me?"

"The one who, when I figure out the problem with my magic, is going to rip you apart you murdering bastard!" yelled Harry, now nursing his hand and wishing he knew a good healing spell.

"Harry," Tom sighed, before he reached out and asked, "May I?"

Harry, realising he actually had no other choice, sighed and held out his burned hand, wincing as Tom prodded the skin with his own wand, before the Dark Lord hissed a spell that sounded like 'Vestigia Retrorsum' before, when Harry looked to his hand, he gasped when he saw his wound healed and Voldemort smiling as if relieved.

"But?" asked Harry, "Why? You want to kill me, don't you?"

"Had I not seen what I just did," Tom replied, "Yes Harry, but, from what I just saw combined with what just happened with your blood, I could never intentionally hurt you."

"But you have," Harry retorted, looking to Tom, "And now you wish to make some kind of freakish mind game on me? Well, I am not going to break Tom; instead, I am going back to Hog…"

{Why would I hurt you, little snake? Why would I hurt my own flesh and blood?} hissed the Dark Lord in Parseltongue as he looked at Harry; as soon as he said the words, though, Harry looked up, his eyes wide with shock.

"What did you say?" asked Harry.

"The truth," Tom answered, "You see Harry, we cannot lie in Parseltongue, so I knew it was the only way you'd listen. Let me propose something to you."

Harry gestured for him to continue.

"Come with me, of your own free will, and listen to what I have to say; when we're done, if you wish to carry on with your old life, I will erase your memories and you can go back to Hogwarts; you have my word."

Harry gave another sigh, before he looked past Voldemort and, pointing to the Death Eaters, asked, "What about them?"

{They will stay,} hissed Tom in Parseltongue, {I will meet and talk with you alone; it is up to you whether or not you believe me.}

Harry nodded before he felt Tom gently take his hand and, before Harry could ask another question, he felt himself spinning through the air, the sights of the graveyard being left behind.


Riddle Manor

"So?" asked Tom, watching as Harry staggered to a nearby seat, "What do you want to know, little snake?"

"Firstly," Harry answered, looking around the room, "Why do you call me that?"

Tom smiled as he clicked his fingers, a large warm fire igniting in an ornate fireplace, before he sighed and looked to Harry, who was seated in a high-backed leather chair, his eyes watching Tom with a cold expression.

"Well," Tom then smiled again before he asked Harry, "Why do you think I call you little snake Harry?"

Harry's mind was once again reeling as he tried not to think about what he suspected: it was impossible; he was a Gryffindor for Merlin's sake and a damn good one too.

Then again, another part of him argued, the Sorting Hat had wanted to put him in Slytherin; plus, he was a Parselmouth and considered by some to still be called the Heir of Slytherin; on top of all that, he knew that no ordinary boy could produce a corporeal Patronus and, to finalise his denying thoughts, Harry also remembered Tom's concern to his injury.

"No," he whispered, "Not that; he can't…you can't be that; no chance in hell!"

"If you have come to the conclusion I believe you have," explained Tom, taking a second leather chair, "There is one way I can hope you'll believe me: if you will trust me."

"How?" asked Harry.

"Through your blood," Tom answered, before he looked over and added, "And, while we're on the subject…" he flicked his wand and Harry watched as the blood-soaked cut on his arm healed with some impressive magic, before Tom continued, "Harry, if you will trust me, I can use our link, which was made on this day, to show you those thoughts of yours."

"Fine," growled Harry, realising that he really didn't have a choice, "Do whatever you want, but it's NOT TRUE!"

Tom closed his eyes, before Harry allowed himself to be dragged into his own thoughts and memories: he saw everything: his near-Sorting into Slytherin; his rescue of the Philosopher's Stone; his realisation of his Parseltongue abilities; the power he had experienced when casting his Patronus; his rivalry with Draco Malfoy; his friendship with Ron and Hermione and, surprisingly, his talk with Professor Dumbledore.

However, as Harry listened, it was then a thought so dark it surprised him crept into his mind: Dumbledore said that love had saved him from the AK Curse, but suddenly that seemed near impossible to Harry.

(After all,) he thought, watching as Dumbledore explained about the power of love, (Voldemort murdered many men, women and children and they all died; I suddenly smell a rat and I don't mean Wormtail.)

"Do you see now?" asked a voice and Harry gasped as he found himself standing in a blank area with just Tom before him.

"See what?" asked Harry, before he indicated behind him, "All I see is that love couldn't have saved me…Dumbledore…he…lied to me…but why?"

"Because of who you are," answered the Dark Lord, before he stepped closer to Harry and placed a hand on his shoulder, "I told you that this would help you see, but it is up to you."

"Before I answer you," Harry suddenly suggested, his eyes down as he felt the full force of Dumbledore's betrayal hit him, "Tell me Tom, how did I survive that night?"

"You saved yourself," Tom answered, "That is the truth Harry; would you like me to repeat it in Parselenic?"

"In what?"

"Parselmouth," Tom smiled as he then felt Harry pull out of this trance.

Back in the safety of the room, or what safety Harry could feel, the young Gryffindor nodded once, "What do you mean I saved myself?"

"When you were born," Voldemort explained, "Your magic was greater than any your age, literally: it seems Harry that you have a power no other wizard has held, the power of Magical Redirection: in other words, you can dodge and redirect any spell, charm, curse or hex with ease. This kind of power has not been seen since the days of Merlin, Morgana and Mordred and is equally rare as a Parselmouth."

"So…what?" laughed Harry, shaking his head, "You're saying I raised my baby hand and waved the curse away? What, did that mean I hadn't defeated you?"

"Sadly not," Tom replied, "You see Harry, if you think about it, and I mean really think, the answer is there. You just have to say it to accept it."

Harry had been afraid of that: closing his eyes, he allowed his memories to bring back the nightmare he had suffered as a child; the flash of light and the high-pitched laughter; however, as he listened, Harry then realised what it was that had bothered him; the cold laughter was fake!

Furrowing his brow, Harry listened and then gasped as the truth finally came to him:

"Tom!" he gasped, "I…I see it! You're there, but you didn't cast the curse: Dumbledore did!"

"Yes," nodded Tom.

"He killed Mum and Dad and wanted to kill me; when he cast the curse, my eyes glow and the spell bounces off me, hitting you, but you smile at me and…your lips…they say…"

"That's my boy," Tom nodded, before he added, "And Lily and James Harry, they knew what would happen."

"Then," Harry gasped, feeling a wave of fear, anger and determination go to war inside him, "I…I really…you are…"

"Shall I?"

Harry nodded before Tom rose from his seat and walked over to the young wizard; kneeling down, the Dark Lord took Harry's hands in his own before he smiled and spoke in Parselenic, confirming Harry's thought:

{You are not Harry James Potter; you are named Harry James Salazar Rasputin Riddle; you are my son.}

Harry wanted to scream, he wanted to deny it, but instead, he looked up and wiped his eye before he asked, "And, do you want to kill me…Father?"

{No,} Tom admitted, {I have never had any intentions to harm you: I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, do swear on my magic…and my life that I have never willingly harmed a hair on Harry James Potter or Harry James Salazar Rasputin Riddle's head; so mote it be.}

Harry watched as a glow encircled Tom before the Dark Lord looked up and asked, "Do you believe me now, my little snake?"

{Yes…} Harry replied in Parselenic, before he wrapped his arms around Tom's shoulders and, like a boy half his age, added:

{Yes Daddy!}

Tom held Harry there for a few seconds before he added, "And now, my son, meet your other family: your godparents!"

The door opened and Harry turned and gasped with an incredulous gaze in his eyes, "YOU?"

"Indeed Harry," replied the first figure, before lowering his hood.

"And we have missed you, Young Master," added the second, before she too lowered her hood:

Harry James Salazar Rasputin Riddle could only gaze in shock as Lily and James Potter stood before him, before his legs failed him and he fell backwards, his vision blacking out.

Chapter 1 of The Riddle Answered is done and I hope you all like it; I would like to thank Tiro and Shadow Bubbles (also known as Tragic Vanity) for the inspiration behind this fic.

Now though, Lily and James are ALIVE and loyal to Voldemort: what does this mean for Harry and, even bigger, what about the TRUTH?

Keep Reading to Find Out…

In the Next 2 Chapters: Home Truths; A Death; New Powers and Enemies Become Allies

Please Read and Review…