A/N:I just really had to write this. Tell me what you think.
EDIT: Alright so basically looking this story over I actually have a sudden want to continue this. Originally I had written this as a prologue to a story I had planned. Basically looking over the books and realizing how big of a lazy dick Harry is, I decided to take matters into my own hands and write something in which he wasn't. I want to write a Harry, who after a very traumatizing situation, gains a drive to become a great wizard. To become powerful. Then after writing it I thought it looked good as a oneshot. I am seriously considering making this a multi-chapter story and actually I am planning some things out. I want to know if that looks possible to you guys. Or is it just good enough as a oneshot?
His vision was blurry.
The side of his head was bleeding.
He could have broken his ribs, he was unsure as he had lost feeling in that area not too long ago.
Yet Tom Riddle's triumphant smirk was clear as day to him.
"Soon, Potter. Soon I will be able to rise once again to my former glory and the world shall see the return of Lord Voldemort..."
No.
He had apparently said this aloud as Riddle smirk seemed to widen and he said something else that he didn't or couldn't hear. He had pulled himself together, however, to hear the final words of Riddle's tirade.
"...and you shall follow your pathetic Ginny to the grave!" Riddle began to laugh, though Harry did not hear it or did not want to.
Ginny...
She was going to die. And Tom Riddle would live in her place.
Tom Riddle...
....Lord Voldemort...
He would take her place.
His eyes traveled to Ginny's body. It was directly in front of him. So close he could reach out and touch her face.
She was going to die.
And Tom Riddle would live in her place.
His body seemed to react on its own as without thinking, he grabbed the basilisk fang which lay right beside him.
...And stabbed it into Ginny's heart.
Blood flew everywhere, soaking his hand and his shirt. He could feel some hit his face as well.
Something cold flowed through him as a cold realization hit him.
He had killed her.
He, Harry Potter, the supposed saviour of the Wizarding World, had killed his best friend's sister.
He barely noticed Riddle's piercing scream as what little colour he had disappeared from his face.
"No!"
Again Riddle screamed. And again. And again. Each time his voice grew shriller and shriller, until finally Harry turned his head to look.
The older boy was pale as a ghost. And seemed to be about as solid as one too.
He could tell that whatever bond Riddle and Ginny shared was doing something to him.
Ginny was dead and had passed on. Their bond was trying to pull Riddle with her.
Riddle obviously did not want to go as he writhed and screamed against it.
In horrific fascination Harry watched as Riddle's body grew more and more transparent, at the same time becoming much less human. Moments later, what lay before him was not at all reminiscent to the fair-skinned, handsome prodigy that stood moments earlier. It was a silvery beast of some sorts. To him it seemed like some sort of hairless dog with a serpentine head and eyes to match.
And it was looking directly at him.
Without warning the creature snarled and charged at him.
He didn't even raise an arm as the beast entered him.
It was surprising as he had thought he was going to be eaten or clawed, but it did not take long to realize what it was doing.
"Get out!" Harry's screams mingled with the beasts inside of his head.
Riddle's shouts were much more primal and less intelligent, yet Harry could understand what was being said.
"You. Are. Mine. POTTER!"
He fell to his knees, screaming even louder. He couldn't feel his legs. Moments later the feelings in his arms were lost as well. Riddle's life force was covering his entire body with a blanket of coldness that would end his existence.
The rebirth of Lord Voldemort. It was disappointing that he couldn't stop it.
Just like his parents he was going to fall to Lord Voldemort, a deranged sociopathic prodigy. Someone who would go so far as to kill to get what he wanted. He was going to die.
...Just like his parents.
His parents.
Riddle had killed them. He had killed them. He had lived the last ten years of his childhood with relatives that hated him. People that he was quite sure wouldn't mind it if he died the next day. He had a miserable life. Bullied, mistreated and starved.
It was all Riddle's fault. It was his fault that his life had been so terrible.
And now, finally when he had reached a place where he could actually call home, the bastard actually had the nerve to come and take it away from him. At this point he'd be damned if he just stood by and let that happen.
So he fought back, though he couldn't tell how exactly.
All he knew was that he was pushing Riddle back somehow. But Riddle pushed back.
"Potter!" Harry ignored the roar coming from inside of him as he stood. The feeling had suddenly returned to his legs and he walked. He walked until he was he was right in front of Ginny. Then once again falling to his knees, he grasped her hands.
"I'm so sorry," Harry whispered to her lifeless corpse.
He could tell that it hurt Riddle. The screams rose and rose once again. Riddle was in pain.
Simply existing inside of Harry caused him pain now.
Harry could feel his own body writhe as Riddle struggled to escape from his body. He did not try to stop it. The silvery essence was released from inside of him and in front of him appeared the beast once more, though different from before.
It was smaller, though perhaps because it was curled up.
It shivered and shook; the screams which were emitted earlier were instead replaced with whimpers.
Harry did not know why but he felt pity for it. Riddle, formerly the great Lord Voldemort, lay before him, reduced to pathetic whimpers. It`s existence was painful, that much he could tell. By entering and losing the fight to conquer Harry it had lost nearly all of its powers.
With new-found energy, Harry walked past it, to where he had dropped the Sword of Gryffindor.
He picked it up; it was surprisingly light in his hands. With slow, sure steps he walked back to Riddle.
The whimpering beast did not even raise its head as Harry stood before him, sword raised in two hands.
It was a pity. He had wanted to get one last look into its eyes.
He then plunged the sword downwards.
A/N: So. Basically the reason I wrote this was to exercise some of my creative muscles and hopefully get a little better at writing. Of course I am kind of in a rush as I write this, but I really want to improve my writing so any constructive criticism or opinions people want to give are much obliged. Thank you for your help.
