Tom Riddle Lives

He raised his wand-

Then, in a rush of wings, Fawkes had soared back overhead and something fell into Harry's lap - the diary.

For a split second, both Harry and Riddle, wand still raised, stared at it. Then, without thinking, without considering, as though he had meant to do it all along, Harry seized the Basilisk fang on the floor next to him and plunged it straight into the heart of the book.

There as a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over Harry's hands, flooding the floor. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing, and then-

Green eyes locked with green eyes. Harry could almost feel the pain and torment the young Voldemort was in. Excruciating pain and regret, along with fear, seemed to radiate from the suffering eternal youth. Harry didn't know what force compelled him to do what he did, but for some reason, he knew he had to do it.

"Fawkes!" He called, desperately, to the Phoenix. Without hesitation, the magnificent bird swooped down and hovered over the nearly faded image of Tom Riddle. It lowered it's head over the Slytherin's form and cried great, pearly tears. Harry, during this time, desperately pulled at the fang submerged within the diary. He pulled it free and fell backwards, and watched in awe as the diary started to mend itself. Fawkes too sat back to admire his handy work on the 16 year old dark lord.

Tom Riddle was on his back, in the middle of a pool of ink and blood. His breathing was ragged, but starting to even out. His eyes, which had closed, fluttered back open and immediately found their way to Harry's eyes.

"Why?" Was the only word he managed to pant.

"Because of something Dumbledor told me," Harry replied, only now realizing the reason why he spared the Riddler's life. "Everyone deserves a second chance. You're not Voldemort yet. You're just a teenager who needs time."

"But I just tried to kill you. . . all those things I said to you. . ."

"You'll have plenty of time to make up for it later." Harry cautiously walked over to Tom's side and crouched down. "Do you know a spell to duplicate something?"

"Yes. . ." Tom answered, looking bewildered. His breathing had evened out again, and he sat propped up on one elbow, still regaining his lost energy. "Duplitus Reflexis. What's that got to do with anything?"

"Everything." Harry pointed his wand at the newly restored diary. "Duplitus Reflexis." Immediately, a copy of the journal appeared. Harry picked up the Basilisk fang again and chopped a hole through the center of the copy. He safely tucked the original into his cloak. Tom's eyes widened in realization.

"You're covering for me?" he gasped, in disbelief. "You're not telling anyone?"

"I'm at least telling Dumbledor. But no, I'm not telling anyone else. It would be impossible for you to live a normal life if everything thought you were already Voldemort."

"Live," Tom muttered. "You broke my connection to the girl's life force," he said, jerking his head to Ginny's recovering form. "How CAN I live?"

"The Phoenix tears restored your life force. You won't need to steal Ginny's in order to live."

For a moment, both boys sat in silence, thinking about what had just happened. Then, unexpectedly, Harry felt strong arms wrap around him and a head bury into his shoulder. He could faintly hear a muffled 'thank you' through soft, low sobs.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dumbledor had been quite understanding and encouraging when Harry related his story about what had happened in the Chamber of Secrets. Tom appeared to be in something of a trance, and remained quiet, his eyes never leaving Harry's form. Harry handed the original diary to Dumbledor for safe keeping, and the fake was used to gain Dobby's freedom. Lucius Malfoy had assumed that his master was dead, and since he never knew Voldemort's original name was Tom Riddle (he never read the diary, just knew that it had been Voldemort's), he had no idea that the black haired, green eyed 16 year old next to Harry was his former master.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tom smiled fondly at the memory while sitting up in bed after a disturbing nightmare. It was the summer between Harry's fourth and fifth year. The memory had was of the first time he had seen his friend, his companion, little brother, and in a sense, son. It was the first time he had seen the person who he'd be fiercely protective of in years to come. Tom looked over at Harry's still sleeping form and smiled proudly. ::Just let someone try and hurt him now::, he thought bitterly. ::They'll have me to deal with. Just try it, Voldemort.::





Author's Notes: Ok, as you can see, this fic will center on Tom and Harry, and their friendship. There will be lots of flashbacks to scenes in some of the HP books, only with Tom included, or scenes with Tom that I just made up. Tom and Harry will have a pretty close relationship, and be very dependant on one another, but this will not be a slash. It's strictly friendship. This was just the intro, the other chappies will be longer. This first part started near the end of Chamber of Secrets, just with Harry's compassion winning over in the end.

For those of you waiting for the other fics to be updated, I haven't died. I've just been really busy. I promise I'll update them asap.

Please read and review! I like reviews! Tell me what you think of it so far, and whether or not I should really put the time into it to continue.