Vision 1. My best enemy. Harry Potter.

-Hello, mister Dursley,- said a young, clean-shaved man in a somewhat old-fashioned, but expensive tweed suit as the man opened the door.

-I'm Jonathan Fortesque. I'm here to transfer your nephew away for the rest of summer. Just, let's do it quietly- we don't want your neighbours to notice something, do you?-

Vernon, who already started turning crimson in fury, went pale. Then he turned back into his house and yelled:

-Boy! Your freak friends have come to pick you up! Pack up and get down here!-

Then he turned towards the man.

-At least you bothered to dress like normal people.-

They waited for two minutes and then a thin young man with bright green eyes went down from the first floor, carrying a large wooden trunk. Seeing the man, he stopped and eyed him with the suspicion.

-The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...- whispered the man, noticing his look. -He told the Order.-

The young man visibly relaxed.

-Come on, I'm driving you to London, my car is a few blocks away.-

Without saying anything like "Goodbye" they left the house at Privet drive. The older man looked around and cast first a Notice-me-not Charm, and then a Shrinking charm on boy's trunk.

-Put it away,- he said to Harry. The young man picked his trunk up and put it into his pocket.

-Do I know you?- Harry broke the silence. -You look familiar, but I cannot put my finger on it.-

-Second year.-

Harry spent several moments skimming through the memories of people he saw that year. Then he remembered and his very existence filled with ice-cold dread.

-Tom Riddle,- he mouthed, trying to reach for his wand.

-Don't even think about it. My wand is already out and I'm at no-miss distance. So, don't fret: if I wanted to kill you, I'd have locked your house down and set it on fire. We share the same blood, so your wards wouldn't react even if I made an autopsy of you on the front lawn. So chill, we're in for a long- postponed talk.-

Harry Potter looked around, trying to think of a way to escape from this trap, but the streets were deserted and no cars drove by. They walked into a local park and sat down on the bench.

-I'm not joining you,- said the teen doing his best not to look scared.

-Well, "duh",- snorted the Dark Lord. -I wasn't expecting you to. Just wanted to open your eyes to reality, so that if you happen to vanquish me, you didn't get fucked up the way Dumbledore was. You're no match for me now and you know it, so please don't do anything stupid. First, I don't really believe in the Prophesy, it sounds like a pile of fabricated bullshit now that I think about it. Secondly, I'm not quite as mad as I've led others, including you to believe. Thirdly, most of things you know about me and this world is incomplete at most, if not a pile of shit.-

-Death of Cedric Diggory is pile of shit? Or my godfather's? Or my parent's? Or all those muggles and muggleborns you killed?- the teen looked furious.

-First, Pettigrew is a weakling and his killing curse can't kill a fly. Diggories were my spies in the previous war and now Cedric is studying for his mastery in Charms in US. Priory Incantatem is also BS- my original wand was destroyed along with my body. All you saw was a well-orchestrated play to lure Dumbledore into a confrontation with Fudge. Your godfather... it's not my story to tell. But Bella had a reason to hate him the way she did and not because of politics. You'll find out some day, but not now. Your parents? Well they were my enemies, quite powerful, influential and brave ones for that. No Prophesy, no politics, just war-time opportunity. Muggleborns... Well, we could start there. You see, the mugglebornes don't have any real chance to get a decent job in any world- they have no skills, knowledge and paper trail for muggle world's education, while their blood status does not let them get any good job in the Wizarding one. As a result they are the cheapest labour in both worlds. So, in the times of war they are recruited into Auror Corps, thrown into one-month training and then sent to the front lines. As a result the muggleborn cannon fodder dies in mass, Ministry claims they are victims and makes a political statement, people get inspired, opposition slowly but steadily gets slaughtered. Then Ministry starts repressions against opposition, robs them blind or sends them to jail, hence getting the profit from the campaign. And cleanup writes everything off as collateral damage. Here's the "killed muggleborns" bullshit you were so angry about. I'd say that by failing just about every muggleborn of Hogwarts in Potions, hence making them underskilled for Aurors, Severus saved more lives than a shield charm during last war.-

Harry went silent in shock. What Tom described sounded monstrous, vicious and... truthful. Painfully, shamelessly truthful.

-You see, if I didn't come back, you'd be put up as the next Dark Lord as you wouldn't accept the status quo. The Ministry then would seize the Potter fortune and start a new fodder conveyor. That's how this world now works.-

-What are you doing then?-

-My aim is to bring down this world, to burn it to ash and see it rise from it. Or not- then good riddance, if it can't survive one man's efforts, should it survive at all? Harry, if one day you see another way to cleanse this world, you can try to bring me down, but before it, you'll always be no match for me.-

Harry blankly stared in front of him, trying to process new information. Minutes later, he stammered:

-How do I know it's true?-

-You don't. You'll see everything for yourself, you'll learn everything for yourself and you'll find your own vision. When your time comes, you'll do what you think is right and you will reap what you sowed. And in the end you'll pay for every your mistake by yourself. That's the Path of the Mage, Harry. That's the only Path that's worth it.-

They sat in silence for a moment. Then Dark Lord summoned teen's wand and made a complex movement.

-Here goes your tracking charm,- Tom Riddle gave the wand back to young wizard. Then he reached for his pocket, took out a shrunk trunk and a quill and gave it to Harry. The young wizard took them with a questioning glance.

-See you around, Harry. Letus.-

Harry felt the familiar sensation of being a frog in a mixer. When the world came back to him, he found himself in the middle of warm sandy desert. Emptiness and nothing holy- all around.

Warm dry wind warped around him and he closed his eyes, for the first time this year feeling freedom and oblivion all over him, erasing all worries and fears of yesterday.

"You're a bastard, Tom,- he thought. -Cruel, cold-hearted, violent bastard. But still, you're the best enemy I have."