Disclaimer: I don't own anything, you know that
Summary: One little phrase can bring out all the missed parallels one may have missed.
Warning: Nothing bad, just a bit of swearing.

I'm thinking I'm going to add more later, but I figured I really needed to get one of my fics somewhere one the internet. I don't really like it, but I'm not a fan of most of the things I write. Tell me what you think.

"I don't need you, fuck I don't need anyone."

A sense of déjà vu hit me as those words were shouted at me. I had heard them before, or at least a variation carrying the same meaning.

"I'm Tom Marvolo Riddle, and I don't fucking need you or anybody else."

Tom had more of a sense of self worth, at that point in time he already knew his mother was descended from Salazar Slytherin. In fact, Tom had always been arrogant and independent, always knowing what he wanted and going for it. He was a prime candidate to be set up as a Dark Lord, although I don't think anyone foresaw how out of hand he would get, not even his loyal followers.

I thought knew then how the next few decades would turn out. Tom would go and spend a few years gathering followers and spewing out his propaganda. Then he would start the senseless killings, being Tom I figured it would be mostly muggles and muggle borns. And then there would be a war, a war that we would win.

I was right too, to a point. And then things started diverging from the plan. First more followers joined him than I thought would. Tom was smart enough to tailor make his recruitment methods to each of his followers. Promising each of his followers exactly what they wanted; fame, power, money, freedom. I should have seen that, Tom was always a clever boy.

And Tom was far more powerful and ruthless than I thought he would be. In school he wanted to be liked, and so he never openly showed his ruthless side. He wanted people to admire him, but not be jealous, and so while he was top of his class, he never showed it off. No one knew how powerful he could be, not until he had already established himself as the Dark Lord.

I misjudged him, underestimated him, but I never thought it would end the way it did. I never realized that all of England would become embroiled in this war. I never foresaw how many would die. I never foresaw how Tom didn't want to be liked; he wanted to be worshipped.

But they didn't know that. No one knew that I didn't see this coming. They all thought I had everything planned out, that I would get them through the war. And I let them; I let them think I knew that everything would be all right.

And because of who I was, who I am, they believed it. Everyone believed that I would get them through this; I thought I would get them through this. But in the end, it wasn't me. It never was me. Oh I helped them survive the attacks and I gave them plans, but I didn't beat him.

No, it was a little baby entering his 15th month of life. A child who in one fell swoop became a hero and an orphan.

When Tom was a child I never knew he what he was destined for. I never knew what he would become, and I never presumed to know. But with little Harry Potter, I thought I knew exactly how he would turn out. After all, I had planned his life from that dark Halloween night.

But I was wrong again. I had thought he would be the perfect hero. I knew that little Harry Potter had not really defeated Tom, that Tom would find a way to come back. And that night I was handed the perfect hero, a little boy who was already famous for doing exactly what I needed someone to do.

But I miscalculated. I wanted him to be humble and independent, so I left him with his muggle relatives. When I saw him at the age of 11, I knew immediately I had made a mistake. But Harry was nice, well adjusted, if a little insecure. I thought he would still be able to do the task I had set up for him. And he did, he did the task beautifully, he got rid of the Dark Lord, of Lord Voldemort.

And he did it by himself, another déjà vu moment. Those were the last words I heard from either of them.

"I don't need you"

Harry uttered those words, stormed out of my office, and one month later the news came. You-Know-Who was dead. Harry Potter had won us the war. Celebrations took place all over England, and no one saw the parallels between the two of them.

Except me, I saw it. I knew that they were the same. I didn't realize for a while, but that last sense of déjà vu got me. They were the same. And I had treated them like they were the same. Tom had always been a favorite of mine, just like Harry. I had made the same mistakes, had led them down the same road. And I knew I would be fighting another Dark Lord, a Dark Lord that wore the face of a hero.