Summary: Both were shattered inside by perfidious life, tortured mentally and physically, wronged by people they thought to be sincere. So they wouldn't know and they could never know on what side of the boundary Harry Potter really lies with. No one but that man locked in the pages, destroyed but alive, just living in a man with a name they knew not to utter. Fem!Harry/Tom Riddle or Voldemort.

I own nothing of the series or movie but solely my plot.

Prologue

Harry faced him again, right in front of her, standing boldly as he wore the robe handed to his pale arms. He didn't look any different when she had seen him behind the head of the always stammering and juddering Quirrel – shuddering as she was now in fear of the revolting sight.

The wand she held with her fingers wavered to keep steady. Her bottom lips which was now blood-rushed red from all the nipping was quivering. All the flush and blush of her cheeks caused by running was drained away like watercolour. The body of a friend, only friend, Cedric Diggory, lied somewhere along the grass around them.

Looking like a war goddess behind the glamour was what she thought she appeared to all. But above it, she was just an abandoned boy who lived after a deadly curse was struck towards him. Yet through all neglect, the tip of her wand pointed intrepidly, trying to show no sign of anxiety. Still, she had failed again to raise her facade. As she tremulously shook, Voldemort stared through her like she was something odd, a taunting curve on his lips.

Then they battled. Energy flickered around them like a haze of smoke. Spells shot to opposite parties glow like fireworks. The deatheaters served as spectators as if they were watching Quidditch. It was as intense as the game of brooms and balls, but it all ended when harry dropped from her focus, slumping on the floor in a gasp for air.

Then Voldemort smiled viciously and liltingly.

Harry couldn't care less about dying. Die if she must, Petunia would say, and that's what she wanted to execute. Who was here to comfort her after the loss of her only friend? Of course neither Granger nor the Weasley whom both played the part Dumbledore wished them to.

They were paid. They were given piles and piles of galleons to pretend as her allies as they received some honours for tagging alone in the first two adventures – retrieving the sorcerer's stone and a small part in killing the beast in the chamber of secrets. Worse was, she trusted Dumbledore, thinking him to be someone of honest nobility. But when she realized he had be withdrawing money from her own vault, nothing could have made her more furious except for giving her to her abusive and pathetic relatives; the Dursleys.

She decided that she didn't want to be controlled any longer – not by the headmaster, not by her pretentious friends whom would serve as henchmen for Dumbledore for the worth of money, not by the ludicrous rules set upon her, hindering her from living her life properly. She needed freedom, even though it was all a false dream as there was no such freedom existing. Only you and your choice.

And so, she opened her mouth to speak.

"Kill me, just do as you wish!" She cried, the usual voice of virility ringing to her ears like wind chimes. "Isn't that what all of you wanted? Me, dead?"

Voldemort's expression turned into amusement. Knowing her covert, he waved his wand, casting off the charm which hid her true identity. Harry's eyes widened at the lousy move, a chorus of gasps erupting from the deatheaters surrounding them. As a cloud of heavy mist washed away, only a girl lying there in anguish was present. There wasn't any boy who lived, no one else but a girl who reigned in desolation. No one but a presentable girl of fourteen, turning fifteen, with a past so dark as same to how he lived in his forgotten precedent.

"Are we on the same side, Potter?" No answer was spoken through the static silence. "I said-"

"No, I'm in no one's side." Harry replied, trying to stand from her position. "Especially not on the side of a man like you are, Voldemort."

Said man flinched from the blunt mention of his name, his eyes narrowing at the girl before he again returned to settle with a smile. "We both know that's not what you said in the journal."

It was her turn to shiver, her Avada green orbs assessing his taller figure. "I was a child then, not knowing what I said." She finally had her feet on the ground, staring the man down. "But now, we both know I'll never side with you or anyone alike."

"You don't have anyone." He added, earning a steep glare as sharp as the elder's wand. "Why even join the light side if you could do so much more?"

She spat on the floor, exhaling a snort, thinking the idea to be mere foolishness. "Do what more? Joining with a reptilian man? Is that my other choice, Voldemort? To help you find your nose?"

Harry heard muffled laughter around them and a squeak from a Pettigrew.

The said sallow man smiled again, making Harry take a step back from his odd repetitive actions. "No." his long ghastly fingers twirled on a lock of her lengthy raven hair. "But you, the star, can shine so much better in the dark."

And she fainted as a red flash of reducto sped in the distance, boggling the consciousness out of her. As she drifted off to a persuasive sleep, all she remembered was the quote uttered to her and nothing else whilst a curtain of obsidian covered her sight.

But she need not worry if everything was prophesized.

Greetings. This is my first story in history. So bear with me Potterhead populace, and I give you my word that the next chapter to this will have over 3k words as most readers please.

R&R and F&F.

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