Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, I own nothing.
Edited: 8 June 2014
A Chance in Meeting
He did not give up - he is too much of a fighter to give up. It was a moment of weakness, the responsibilities were stacking higher on his shoulder and it became to be too much. Now he is back here, King's Cross. He wonders briefly, if like before, Dumbledore will appear once more. But no, there is only the bench where Voldemort's withered fractured soul had one hidden under. Nothing.
He wants to say he feels awful about that slip of self-preservation, but he doesn't. He's here now and nothing can change that. With a slight huff of breath he take a seat and ponders. When is the train coming?
He waits on hours no end but the train finally arrives, there's a shout. "All aboard! Departure in one minute!"
Harry looks around but there is no one there but himself. What would happen if he didn't get on the train?
"Departure in ten, nine, eight..." Panic struck him.
"Five, four."
Next great adventure.
He jumps on his feet and runs towards the nearest open door, he wonders what his next big adventure is and whether he will remember his experiences. He supposes that he won't which is such a shame. He went through all the trouble of becoming whom he is, and now all of his knowledge will be wasted. He sat down in an empty compartment and stared blankly at the lone bench he was sitting on before.
"Last call for departure...alright let's get this train moving (there's a thumping, like one would do a car or carriage to get the driver moving)."
"Wait!"
Quickly, Harry looks outside to see the owner of the shout but no one is there, although he can hear the sound of someone getting on the train and hearing a grateful "thank you, sir!"
He can hear footsteps approaching his compartment as the train lurches forward; Harry feels like he is riding the Hogwarts train for the first time all over again and wonders who will open the sliding door.
The door slides open, and it's just a man. He's completely normal looking, with average hair and average eyes. He's a generic looking man, it's his average looks that, to Harry, make him appear above average. "Hello," the man says smiling. He has a little dimple below the right corner of his lips that make him seem all the more charming and handsome. He has loose curls all over making it messy, like his own. However, unlike Harry's rat's nest, it's completely neat. Every curl is carefully placed in such a way as to enhance his attractive qualities. "All the other compartments are full, may I sit with you?"
Funny, Harry thinks, all he saw upon entering were empty compartments but now that he thought about it, this place is packed. This completely white-out King's Cross was completely packed full of people. Why doesn't he remember that? In fact, now that he remembers, this was the last empty compartment that was available. Strange. Why is here? How did he get here? What is this place? Who is he? Oh right, Harry Potter. JUST Harry. Why does that matter, Just Harry?
"I'm Harry Potter, just Harry," he says politely.
"Oh well then Just Harry, I'm Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr., you can call me Just Tom."
Surprise chills him to the bone, but Harry can't remember why. "Hello Tom."
The world becomes blindly white before fading to darkness.
A/N: There may be a sequel (I'm still debating), if there is, it will be a crossover and updated at a snail's pace.