AN: Okay, I'm slowly coming to accept the fact that I would never be satisfied with my work. With this story I feel even worse because I don't think it can stand on its own at all. It is kind of a link between Friends and Promises and the final story in the series showing character development and setting up certain conflicts that would be resolved in the sequel.

Still, I did my best and I hope you guys enjoy this fic!

DISCLAIMER: I have a logic puzzle for you;
1) I own Harry Potter
2) Only one of these two sentences is true.

Promise to Keep

When Tom was growing up he was often haunted by a sense of not belonging, feeling left out and out of place. You'd think that it would go away once he got to Hogwarts or at least when he established his leadership over the Slytherin house. But it never really did. There was never a place for Tom Riddle, never a thing he could call his own.

The downfall of Lord Voldemort in 1981 only solidified the idea in his mind. He had lived on borrowed time and as soon as it was up all of his achievements, "friends" and power vanished like a dream. He couldn't even say that they betrayed him since it never felt like they were his in the first place.

The Slytherins Tom grew up with weren't necessarily disloyal or cowardly, nor was their friendship solely based on mutual benefits and calculated profits. But their true allegiances were formed long before Tom entered their world and he would never come first for any of them. He was a fool for even trying to find his place among them.

That didn't stop him wanting it, though.

Tom was waiting.

He stood alone among the tombstones and yew trees, his black cloak hiding him from view. With his posture inhumanly still and his skin so pale he looked like one of the marble angels marking the long forgotten graves.

His eyes were closed, elegant eyebrows creased ever so slightly, long fingers stapled together like he was praying or maybe counting in a game of hide and seek.

He was waiting for Harry Potter to come to him.

Now, Tom was never a patient man. And in the past few months whatever virtues he may have had were severely diminished by the gnawing ever angry entity that now lived somewhere in the back of his mind.

When Tom absorbed the frail and tortured remains of the Dark Lord's soul he somehow thought that it wouldn't affect him too strongly. Voldemort was so much weaker than Tom's young soul nurtured by Ginny Weasley's mind and residing in a newly created body. Tom thought he would be able to consume the Dark Lord completely. In a way he had. He couldn't tell for sure if the whispering murderous voice in his mind was the spirit of Voldemort poisoning his thoughts and waiting for a chance to take over his body or just his own way of dealing with the weight of the many years of knowledge and experience that he got from his older self. He only knew that the voice kept hissing that everyone betrayed him, that he would always be alone, that the one who promised to be his was going to abandon him as well.

"No sign of him, my lord!" somewhere from behind a huge yew tree Pettigrew reared his disgusting head. Tom was contemplating cutting him down with a Crucio.

"Thank you for stating the obvious, Wormtail. If you do not wish to have your tongue cut off, I'd recommend keeping it behind your teeth in the future," Tom drawled with an air of bored distaste. He wouldn't show the pathetic rat that Harry's absence indeed bothered him.

This was the night of Tom's great triumph, the night Lord Voldemort gathered his followers once again. But first he wanted to see Harry. Certain... parts of his plan depended on how their meeting went.

When they had last seen each other his Harry had promised him something, something precious. At the time, Tom had the boy eating out of the palm of his hand but two years could change a lot in a teenager's life. It appeared Harry had forgotten all of his promises. Tom clenched his fists.

"You know that golden egg? Does yours wail when you open it?"

"Yeah, so?" Harry was so pretty with his little frown of confusion and his hair in a permanent wild dance.

"Tell you what... Um... It would do you well to mull things over in hot water..." Diggory hesitated for a moment licking his lips, "I can show you. Tonight, after curfew," he looked up at Harry expectantly.

Harry twirled a lock of his untamable hair in contemplation as he peered at Diggory coyly through his lashes, "That's very kind of you, Cedric. It seems only polite that I agree."

Diggory's shiver of excitement was clearly visible.

"O-okay, you know the Prefect's bathroom? Fourth door to the left of that statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor. Password's "pine fresh". I-I'll see you tonight?"

Smiling the loveliest of smiles Harry nodded and was off.

What he didn't see, of course, was Mad-Eye Moody lurking just behind a gargoyle one flight of stairs higher. As soon as Harry left he came down to still dazed-looking Diggory and gave him detention for the night of his little tryst.

Tom's loyal follower may have stopped Harry from seeing Diggory that night but the memory that Crouch had sent him still burned bright in the Dark Lord's mind.

His Harry had been so close to easily giving away everything he promised Tom. There was no guarantee that Crouch had managed to prevent any other possible indiscretions. Tom clenched his jaw angrily.

What did you expect, you foolish child? The voice in his mind hissed. You thought you could keep him? The boy is said to be your demise. You should just kill him when you have the chance.

Tom shook his head stubbornly. Really, instant death was the smallest punishment he would give to any of his followers who committed such an offense. But with Harry... Tom wanted to at least hear his excuses. It was bound to be entertaining if nothing else. Then again if the boy was still as fascinating as he was two years ago, maybe Tom would keep him anyway, disloyal or no. With proper punishment Harry might learn his lesson once and for all.

My, sounds like someone is in denial...

Before Tom could argue with that thought faint blue light illuminated the cemetery. Turning his head sharply he saw two figures appearing on the ground. Two?..

Wormtail made a low whining sound and hid behind one of the gravestones taking out his wand while Tom made his way over to the portkey with confident grace.

Two boys were already on their feet looking around.

"Do you think this is part of the tournament?" one of them – Diggory – asked.

"No, I don't think so," came Harry's voice just as the boy turned and his eyes connected with Tom's.

Harry's glasses seemed to have fallen off during the portkey ride and his face looked naked, vulnerable without them. His eyes were so deep and so green - like two pools of water in a forest full of secrets.

To Tom's frustration, he was given only one moment to stare into those eyes as in the next instance Diggory – the blasted Hufflepuff – jumped in front of Harry protectively.

"Who are you?" Diggory asked pointing his wand at Tom, "Where are...-"

He never got to finish the question. Cold fury that was building up in Tom ever since he first heard of the pathetic boy who tried to steal his Harry, finally spilled over the edge and in the next moment an explosion of green lit up the cemetery.

Diggory had only a moment to look surprised before the curse hit him square in the chest and in the next moment his body fell to the ground at Harry's feet, his arms spread wide in a protective gesture.

Tom breathed in and out slowly trying to calm the demon inside him calling for more blood.

The traitor would try to run now, cut him down before he can. Do you want to hear him laugh at you as he escapes?

Harry looked down at Diggory's body and his face seemed to shatter and then close off. The boy didn't move however. Now that Tom had time to look, the Gryffindor had grown up very nicely. He was still thinner and shorter than most boys his age but instead of looking underfed he appeared delicate and refined. A perfect contrast of maturing features and childish build. Tom felt arousal coiling in his stomach at the thought of exploring that body with his hands and mouth and introducing his Harry to the pleasures of flesh.

But first things first.

"Tell me, Harry, do I need to refresh your memory or do you remember me well enough?"

Green eyes snapped back up at him and Tom once again felt a thrill go down his spine from the vulnerable look in them.

"Hello, Tom," the boy swallowed and licked his lips, "I-I was wandering if I would be seeing you tonight." Harry seemed twitchy, his muscles tense - ready to jump and run at the first sharp movement.

"Oh, so you do remember me?" Tom tilted his head and relaxed his posture trying to calm Harry down. Lulling him into a false sense of security. "Even thought about me lately… Tell me then," Tom's eyes narrowed, "do you also remember what you promised me two years ago?"

Harry's face was intent as he nodded. His eyes watching Tom carefully.

"I promised m-myself to you," he replied quietly.

"Yes, you did," Tom tapped his chin with his wand thoughtfully even as the voice in his mind kept urging him to punish, to torture until that subdued façade broke, to kill… "So tell me, Harry, what is it that I hear about you consorting with Diggory? Did you honestly think that I would not find out?" Tom's eyes were trained on Harry, waiting for the moment when the realization dawned on him.

But instead the boy's face seemed to clear and his shoulders relaxed somewhat.

"That's what bothers you?" gingerly the Gryffindor stepped over Diggory's prone form and came closer to Tom.

"Should I be more concerned about some other betrayal then?" Confusion added to Tom's anger and that was never a good combination.

Harry stepped even closer and was now only a foot away from the Dark Lord.

"I didn't betray you and I haven't broken my promise, Tom."

He is lying through his teeth.

Before Harry could even blink Tom's hand closed around the boy's throat, "Yes, because my servant made sure of that," his grip tightened and a first flicker of fear flashed in Harry's eyes. "I don't share, Harry, and I don't take kindly to traitors. So tell me, why shouldn't I just kill you right now?"

Harry grabbed Tom's hand but thankfully didn't put up any more struggle. The Dark Lord had no tolerance for that. He was about to snap the boy's neck, so Harry had better give him a good reason not to.

The Gryffindor wheezed in what little oxygen he could and answered, "Servant?.. You mean Crouch?.. You think he could stop me if I really wanted to…? With Cedric?" Tom's eyes widened a little but he didn't ease his hold of the boy's neck. "I knew... he was keeping an eye... on me... And I guessed... he worked for you. What I didn't know... was wether or not... you even cared... I mean... Thought... you'd kill me... tonight..–"

Abruptly Tom let the boy go and Harry doubled over gulping the air. A test. That's what this little performance was.

But of course. Somehow it never occurred to him that Harry could be as uncertain about their meeting as Tom himself was. The boy knew better than anyone else that the entity that Tom had absorbed hungered for his death for years.

"How did you know about Crouch?" Tom asked trying to connect all the dots.

Harry replied hoarsely still panting, "I have a magical map. It shows where everyone in Hogwarts is. Real names, too, not the appearances people put on. I was confused at first 'cause I thought it was Crouch Senior, but after some research..." Harry shrugged.

There was no trace of lies in his body language and expression but the insistent voice in Tom's mind kept hissing, looking for loopholes and potential tricks, urging him to push and bend until the boy broke and told him everything.

"So," Tom muttered, "you led Diggory on? Just to see my response?"

Harry looked a little sheepish at that, "Well, yeah... That and he really helped me with the tasks. It's a pretty hardcore competition for a fourth year, you know."

"And you brought Diggory here...," Tom's mind made a few last connections, "A human shield... You've done this two years ago, too. What's with you and this strategy?"

"Is it a bad one?" Harry asked, his eyes lighting up with eagerness to learn.

"What, you mean morally?"

The Gryffindor boy snorted and finally the thick charged atmosphere around them seemed to have lifted. Harry belonged to Tom. Diggory was dead and forgotten. For now they were just two friends catching up after a long time spent apart.

"Diggory seemed quite determined to bed you, though," Tom muttered, "how did you dissuade him and still managed to get help from him?"

"Told him I wasn't ready for sex yet."

"And he just went with it?"

"Hufflepuffs," Harry looked at Diggory's body and shrugged helplessly.

Tom chuckled. His Harry was so different now. A little damaged, a little jaded, with less compassion and better acting skills. Apparently, that was what living with the deaths of two people on one's conscience did to a normal boy.

Huh... Who would have thought.

Still, as Tom stepped even closer and gathered Harry in his arms, the boy was gorgeous. And it was glorious knowing that Tom shaped him into this person, that he was all Tom's.

Harry was trembling in his embrace ever so slightly and when Tom pressed a kiss against those slightly chapped lips he knew at once that the Gryffindor was indeed as untouched as he had been two years ago. Harry's lips pushed back back a bit more readily but just as inexpertly as before, nimble fingers gripped the material of his robes almost desperately.

Tom pressed their bodies flush against each other and bent forward making Harry stand on his tiptoes and arch his back. The boy's hands came up to grip the Slytherin's shoulders and he made a choked noise in the back of his throat. Tom swallowed the sound delightedly pushing his tongue into Harry's mouth, swiping across the roof and tickling the gums. This time Harry actually moaned and he sounded somewhat scandalized like he didn't even know that people could do that.

"My Lord? It's almost midnight." …of course Pettigrew was going to ruin the moment.

Tom reluctantly pulled away from Harry still holding him half suspended in the air.

"Wormtail?" Harry looked at the pathetic excuse of a human with wide eyes. "Of course, you'd be here, you disgusting rat..." he murmured almost to himself stepping away from Tom gracefully.

With one lingering look of regret Tom, too, straightened and pulled out his wand. It was time to gather his Death Eaters and announce that the Dark Lord was back.

When Tom was growing up all he knew was greed. It was a black gaping hole inside him that wanted to swallow up and own everything. So he took away other children's toys, stole the artifacts of the founders, robbed people of their power, free will and life.

And yet it was never enough. He hid his precious treasures in wardrobes and caves, protected them with armies of the dead and powerful spells and it still felt like they could be taken from him at any moment.

Living things Tom could never keep. His parents, his pet snakes, his first friends – they would all wither and die and abandon him. It seemed that his mere touch corrupted and poisoned them and before he knew it they slipped through his fingers. Living things were too strange and too fragile to be owned.

And that, more than anything, fueled his greed, his desire to take and possess and keep.

"Your arm, Wormtail," Tom said regally before jamming his wand into the Dark Mark on Pettigrew's forearm, then, gentler, to Harry, "Sit over there and be quiet, love."

With obedience that finally appeased the hissing creature inside Tom the Gryffindor moved over to one of the statues and settled down at its feet. A couple of minutes later first pop of apparition sounded.

"My Lord?"

One by one the Death Eaters appeared among the graves and yew trees and slowly approached Tom. He stood there still and impassive, waiting, Voldemort's knowledge whispering to him the names of the masked and hooded figures.

As the first one - Walden Macnair - came within the distance of several feet from Tom, he fell to his knees and crawled to kiss the hem of the Dark Lord's robes.

"Master," he whispered reverently before backing away to stand in the distance.

The others followed suit forming a spacious circle around the Dark Lord.

Even though Tom already had a memory of how Voldemort's Death Eaters used to treat their master, he was still impressed. Over the years he managed to instill such blind adoration and servility - it was... kind of dizzying.

The voice inside him kept on hissing, whispering that none of those "loyal followers" had tried to find him, help him when he had lost his body but Tom paid it no heed. The Dark Lord who had been banished by a baby deserved no help. Tom glanced at Harry who watched the proceedings curiously from his perch.

Nodding in satisfaction, Tom began to speak, "Welcome, Death Eaters. Thirteen years... thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday... We are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we?"

The last words were said in a barely audible hiss, yet they all heard him and shivered.

Slowly Tom looked around the circle noticing the gaps where people were missing - Lestranges, Black, Karkaroff, Snape, Dolohov…

"So many have left our midst - those who were loyal and are now in Azkaban and those who betrayed us and were too cowardly to return. Did they think that they will escape punishment? That I would forget them? I do not forget. I do not forgive. Those who deflected will pay with their lives. Those who proved their loyalty will be honored beyond anything they can dream of," Tom paused before focusing on the cloaked figures once more, "But this is really about those present, isn't it? Those who renounced me to get out of the Ministry's clutches and yet came to my first call," his eyes fell on his first target, "Lucius, my slippery friend. I hear you've managed to retain your wealth and position and still keep to the old ways… Isn't that right?"

Lucius fell to his knees murmuring, "Yes, my Lord. I… we've all been waiting, hoping that you will return to us."

"And yet you didn't bat an eyelash giving away an item the Dark Lord has entrusted you with?" Tom saw the man tremble on the ground. "Cucio!" he held the curse for a few seconds listening to Malfoy's screams and then cut it off to continue with his speech, "Yet you are in luck it seems. For it is thanks to your deflection that I am standing here right now."

"Master," Lucius said, "please, tell us how. We all want to know..."

"Ah, always eager to learn. But I am afraid this is neither the time nor the place to examine the achievements of our past," Tom held a dramatic pause before continuing, moving in a slow circle, "For tonight we begin the future. We shall restore the wizarding world's glory and return what is rightfully ours."

There were soft murmurs of agreement and Lucius took the chance to finally stand up and return to his place in the circle. Tom let him. The fool was lucky this time.

Nott, one of the more level-headed Death Eaters, voiced his concerns however, "Master, but what about Dumbledore? His standing is quite strong right now. And he has a lot of sway over the Ministry."

The rest of them stayed silent and seemed to be waiting with baited breath for Nott's punishment but Tom knew that privately they all wondered about exactly that.

"Oh, yes, old mudblood-lover with questionable fashion sense," there were sniggers and Tom even thought he saw Harry snort out of the corner of his eye, "He's been awaiting my return for quite some time now. It would be hard to catch him unprepared... But we have a strong ally on our side. Someone the headmaster will never suspect. We shall infiltrate Dumbledore's Order of Phoenix from the inside before making any moves out in the open. Then," Tom said with a flourish, "we'll crumble the entire house of cards in a single move."

"But, Master, if you forgive me, who is this ally? Who can possibly do something like that without Dumbledore noticing?" Nott pressed.

This time the Death Eaters closest to him shifted away ever so slightly expecting a blow. Tom chuckled softly.

"There's no need to fret, my friends. If I wanted to rule over mindless sheep unable to voice their doubts, I would have long ago gathered an army of muggles," the Death Eaters laughed somewhat nervously, "But I suppose it is time I introduce to you our guest of honor," Tom extended his left hand to Harry who looked up in surprise.

It was a gamble. He didn't tell Harry anything of his plans and the boy could cause quite a scene right now. But Tom wanted to see if his Gryffindor would play along, if he understood the rules of the game he got himself into. No one disobeys the Dark Lord.

To the boy's credit, he took Tom's hand without hesitation and stood by his side silently. He was shivering almost imperceptibly and it suddenly struck Tom that they had been in the exact same situation before. Two years ago his Harry took the same leap of faith grabbing Tom's hand and not letting go. The Slytherin pulled the boy closer. Mine.

In the silence the Dark Lord could practically hear his followers' thoughts racing as they recognized the Boy Who Lived and processed exactly what his presence here meant.

Tom gave them a moment before proceeding, "Harry and I have managed to settle our differences and he has generously offered his help. Dumbledore is going to put all his cards on the boy," that earned him a sideways glance from Harry, "And that shall be his downfall."

Once again there were murmurs of agreement and Harry nestled closer to Tom. So tantalizing. It was time to finish their little get-together and attend to other matters.

"Morsmordre," Tom pointed his wand at the sky casting a Dark Mark. The Death Eaters bowed. "I shall call you again shortly and we will discuss the plans in detail. For now, know that your Lord has returned and be ready."

One by one the Death Eaters backed away and disapparated until the only one left was Pettigrew who was covering at one of the gravestones unsure what to do.

"I believe Mr. and Mrs. Diggory would like to see their son, Wormtail," Tom said impassively. "Take his body back. You are well equipped to escape unnoticed afterwards."

Pettigrew trembled and whimpered with fear but didn't dare to disobey. As he wobbled over to the portkey Tom turned back to Harry.

"And you have a promise to keep, love." He gestured toward the Riddle Manor looming over the graveyard, "Shall we move to a more comfortable location?"

Harry nodded vaguely, his eyes glued to where Wormtail was dragging Diggory's form to the gleaming goblet on the ground. Tom steered him away with a hand on the small of his back. None of that, my lovely, you can only look at me now.

"Don't you think that was a little too risky? Telling them about me?" Harry asked as they approached the house. "What if they tell? What if Dumbledore finds out?"

Such a good boy. Knows when to talk and when to keep quiet.

Tom chuckled, "You didn't think I was going to throw you out on the barricades, did you?" Harry looked at him, uncomprehending. "It is a good way to check my Death Eaters' loyalty but I won't risk you in this war," you were made for better things... "Dumbledore will be dead soon enough. If anyone tells him about your involvement, it would only serve to distract the old man from my actual plans."

Entering candle-lit entrance hall of the manor Tom turned to look at his Gryffindor. Harry's eyes were wide and there was a mix of surprise and admiration in his expression.

Tom chuckled and pulled him closer. Of course. How silly of him to forget. Harry wasn't expecting people to not want to use him.

"Oh, Harry, you are all mine."

When Tom was growing up he was often haunted by a sense of not belonging, feeling left out and out of place. Now, even as a child he was a very smart boy, so it didn't take him long to realize the reason for this. He found out early on that he was missing some very important ingredient, something simple and obvious that others seemed to grasp with ease. So, being a very smart boy, he learned. He learned when to smile and when to frown, he learned how to disguise his indifference as sympathy or pensiveness, how to turn his cold fury into a mask of patience or sadness. He mimicked the appropriate expressions and hid the ones that made people shrink away from him.

But the feeling never left. He knew all the right things to say and do but at the end of the day it only made him weary and more lonely than ever. It was frustrating him to no end. It was also utterly terrifying. What if he was just all around wrong? A defect human being that had no place on this planet, no chance to ever find a place for himself.

Tom wasn't one to give up however. He would sooner warp and corrupt every good thing in the world than allow others to enjoy them while he could not.

Morning found them in the master bedroom curled up together and breathing in unison. Tom was caught up studying Harry's face – peaceful and almost painfully young in his sleep.

His Harry cried out so sweetly during their coupling, his reactions were so unrehearsed and genuine that Tom let go of the last of his doubts. The hissing voice in his mind finally subsided only letting out a pleased whisper of mine each time Tom's eyes found the scar on Harry's forehead.

Hazy green eyes blinked open and lean muscles stretched as his Gryffindor woke up.

"My bum hurts," Harry murmured rubbing his eyes sleepily.

Tom chuckled. "Want me to heal it?"

"M'kay," the boy said closing his eyes once again.

Tom lifted the sheets revealing smooth tender skin littered with his marks. The boy's skin was a little sticky with dried sweat and other substances. There was a small pinkish streak on his thighs where he had bled a little from penetration. Tom's tongue curled in his mouth in pleasure. Such innocence.

By the time he cleaned his Gryffindor up and relieved his little aches Harry was already fully awake taking in the room around him with child-like curiosity. Tom supposed he hadn't got much time to examine everything before.

"So, what now?" asked Harry. His thin fingers came up to comb through Tom's hair softly. It felt so very nice.

"Well, there are many things," Tom replied lazily. "Plans and meetings and some arrangements... But first thing today I'm going to make you an honest man."

Harry's laugh was a beautiful sound. The Dark Lord smiled indulgently. He was already thinking about retrieving the Gaunt ring from the shack nearby.

The End

AN: I really really hope you enjoyed the story. I'm having a rough time right now but I did my best with it. And now there's just one fic to go!

Originally I planned to have the first half of the story to be all about Tom mistrusting Harry and the second half to be all about porn but it didn't work out that way. The scene where Tom talks to his Death Eaters kind of feels unnecessary but it was there in the book and I wanted to showcase the changes between canon Voldemort and Voldemort in this story. Dunno.
The sequel will take place after the events of the Little Things (the story, not the series) and will be told from Draco Malfoy's point of view.
Please, tell me what you think of the story! Your reviews help me a lot. Also, tell me what you expect from the sequel. I have a pretty clear idea of what I want to write but I'm not quite sure how it will get from point A to point B. Maybe your suggestions will give me a clue.