A single moment changes lives.
In the life of a young Harry Potter, a boy who was already more man than boy, it happened in his second year of school at Hogwart's. He was standing face to face with a memory, nearly alone; the half dead form of a young girl near him was of no comfort.
So many choices to make, and only a moment to make them. The phoenix dropped a book into his lap as he and Tom Riddle locked eyes. He saw the future, past, and present Voldemorte flick his gaze away briefly toward the Basilisk tooth he held and new what he had to do.
But he paused, his morals questioning the choice he had already made. Was it really his choice to decide whose life was more important? Is the murder of a memory still murder. He took that one moment to look at Ginny Weasly and watched her take a final breath.
Time slowed in that moment.
Ginny's chest heaved upward one last time, pausing before she shuddered. Her now lifeless body fell back into the ground. She looked almost asleep, but for that heavy quality that differentiated between the sleeping and the dead. He drew his gaze to Riddle who was no longer pointing his wand toward him, but leaning backwards and floating an inch above the ground. Harry lifted the tooth and plunged it into the diary, hoping to sever the link between the two.
But it was a moment too late.
That moment, that choice, had allowed Riddle to completely materialize. He connected with the floor, the soft sound of dress shoes tapping against dark stone echoing through the chamber, and leveled the wand toward Potter again.
"You defeated my other self twice, Harry Potter, but you cannot defeat me." The strengthened young Dark Lord smiled evilly at the pitiful Gryffindor lying in a pool of ink with only a slippery, blackened tooth in his hands. "I am myself again, and shall not make the mistakes of my counterpart."
Riddle paused. As he spoke, Harry had stood and began to shakily walk toward the empty shell across the chamber. "You killed her, Harry," Riddle muttered as he approached. "Her blood is as much on you as it is on me. Remember that."
Harry looked at him blankly. "I- I killed her?" His mind was slowly breaking, and he was clearly in shock. He had never seen anyone die before, and knew that he was partially responsible for it. "No, you- you killed her. I just, just..." he trailed off, muttering to himself.
"You just didn't stop me, Potter." Riddle smiled again and began to walk away. "I was going to kill you, Harry, but now I think I'll let you live." He cast a selective memory charm on Harry. "You won't remember me, but you'll remember being to late to stop my pet from killing the girl. Good-bye, Harry, and remember, it was all your fault." Riddle walked away laughing.
In the life of a young Harry Potter, a boy who was already more man than boy, it happened in his second year of school at Hogwart's. He was standing face to face with a memory, nearly alone; the half dead form of a young girl near him was of no comfort.
So many choices to make, and only a moment to make them. The phoenix dropped a book into his lap as he and Tom Riddle locked eyes. He saw the future, past, and present Voldemorte flick his gaze away briefly toward the Basilisk tooth he held and new what he had to do.
But he paused, his morals questioning the choice he had already made. Was it really his choice to decide whose life was more important? Is the murder of a memory still murder. He took that one moment to look at Ginny Weasly and watched her take a final breath.
Time slowed in that moment.
Ginny's chest heaved upward one last time, pausing before she shuddered. Her now lifeless body fell back into the ground. She looked almost asleep, but for that heavy quality that differentiated between the sleeping and the dead. He drew his gaze to Riddle who was no longer pointing his wand toward him, but leaning backwards and floating an inch above the ground. Harry lifted the tooth and plunged it into the diary, hoping to sever the link between the two.
But it was a moment too late.
That moment, that choice, had allowed Riddle to completely materialize. He connected with the floor, the soft sound of dress shoes tapping against dark stone echoing through the chamber, and leveled the wand toward Potter again.
"You defeated my other self twice, Harry Potter, but you cannot defeat me." The strengthened young Dark Lord smiled evilly at the pitiful Gryffindor lying in a pool of ink with only a slippery, blackened tooth in his hands. "I am myself again, and shall not make the mistakes of my counterpart."
Riddle paused. As he spoke, Harry had stood and began to shakily walk toward the empty shell across the chamber. "You killed her, Harry," Riddle muttered as he approached. "Her blood is as much on you as it is on me. Remember that."
Harry looked at him blankly. "I- I killed her?" His mind was slowly breaking, and he was clearly in shock. He had never seen anyone die before, and knew that he was partially responsible for it. "No, you- you killed her. I just, just..." he trailed off, muttering to himself.
"You just didn't stop me, Potter." Riddle smiled again and began to walk away. "I was going to kill you, Harry, but now I think I'll let you live." He cast a selective memory charm on Harry. "You won't remember me, but you'll remember being to late to stop my pet from killing the girl. Good-bye, Harry, and remember, it was all your fault." Riddle walked away laughing.
