A Different Path
Rated: PG
Disclaimer: If I were Jo I'd be making a hell of a lot more money.
A/N: Takes place immediately after DH chapter 34 "Into the Forest" and contains spoilers for Deathly Hallows. Some lines of dialogue are direct quotes from the book.
This fic is a rewrite of the canon ending and basically what I think should have happened. This is a one-shot that I may expand into a HP/TR fic someday, however this fic is not HP/TR slash.
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This world may have failed you,
It doesn't give you a reason why,
You could have chosen
A different path in life.
Angel, Within Temptation
Harry laid face down, listening to silence. It took a long time for awareness to return, a long time to realize that he was someplace and not no-place. Harry sat up slowly, looking around. Mist swirled around him, a bright shining mist that seemed the promise of an unformed thought.
Harry did not know what he had expected-harps and clouds maybe-but it wasn't this.
A sound came to him, a sound like moaning and a soft thumping, as though something was trying to escape.
Harry drifted towards the noise and, as he moved, the world seemed to solidify. The mist melted into a wide-open, bright space with a clear, domed-glass ceiling and rows upon rows of seats. Harry turned in a circle, looking at the new place. He was quite alone here, no one but him and-
Harry caught sight of what was making the noises. A small form, like that of a small, naked child, laid on the ground under one of the seats. It was ugly, its skin rough and flayed looking, red in place, bruised in others. Its hands covered its face but moans and sobs came from it.
Harry was repulsed. Tiny though the figure was, he did not want to approach it. He struggled with the feeling. It's only a child, he told himself, a hurt child. He grabbed hold of his courage and made a move towards it.
"You cannot help."
Harry spun around to see Albus Dumbledore walking towards him.
"Harry," he said, flinging his arms open wide, "You wonderful boy. You brave, brave man. Walk with me."
Harry and Dumbledore sat and talked, and as they did, the wails and moans of the creature under the seat clawed at Harry's mind, making his skin prickle with shame.
"Headmaster, are you quite sure there is nothing that came be done?" Harry interrupted Dumbledore's explanation of the Deathly Hallows. He had asked the question once before and Dumbledore's answer was the same.
"There is no help possible."
The moans of the pitiful creature hiding under the seat had grown louder.
"Professor, I-" Harry broke off as it's voice wavered up and interrupted him. He got up and walked back down the aisle, pausing at the row it was under. A realization hit him. "Professor, that's him, isn't it?" He turned back to the seat where Dumbledore was still sitting, watching him over half-moon spectacles. "Voldemort," Harry clarified and pointed at the flayed, naked figure under the seats.
"A part of him," Dumbledore affirmed. "The piece of his soul that was inside of you."
Harry turned back, horror and fascination clawing at his throat. He stooped down to look at the creature. It was small, as small as a child, and quite naked. Its skin was raw and red, stripped in some places down to bone. Its claw-like fingers covered its face as it continued to moan, rocking itself back and forth.
Harry reached forward, wanting to comfort it, despite its hideousness.
"It will not help, Harry," Dumbledore said softly. Harry ignored him, creeping closer until he was finally close enough to reach out and touch the small, shivering creature.
The figure jerked back as his touch as though it pained him and its moans got louder. But its fingers parted and dark eyes were looking back at him-dark eyes that he recognized.
"Tom," Harry said in a soft, sing-song voice, as though he were speaking to a small child, "It's all right, Tom. I won't hurt you. Let me help you."
Harry's hand drifted closer. He glittering eyes watched him from beneath the parted fingers and, for one horrible moment, Harry was certain the creature would attack him rather than let him touch it. But then his hand connected with solid flesh.
The moans became a keening cry and then the creature exploded into movement, flinging itself into Harry's arms and wrapping its arms around his torso with bruising force. Shocked, Harry looked down into the lumpy, bruised face that was revealed, staring back up at him. The creature-Tom, Harry silently amended- was looking up at him with the adoration of a child that has never been touched in kindness. And, knowing what Harry knew of Tom Riddle's life, that may well be true.
Harry hesitantly wrapped his arms around the emaciated figure, cuddling it close.
"It's all right, Tom. No one is going to hurt you again. I promise."
As soon as the words left his mouth Harry felt the magic in them wind between himself and the child clutching his middle, powerful as the Unbreakable Vow. And he heard Dumbledore's voice saying, "Well done, Harry."
He looked up, but Dumbledore had vanished. Indeed, the whole station had vanished. Instead of King's Cross he now sat on the floor of a filthy cabin, Tom still huddled in his lap. A dilapidated table stood in front of him, and from beneath it, a pair of eyes glittered at him.
Another child-another piece of Tom-was huddled under the table, staring at him curiously. It made no noise, just regarded him and the small figure hugged into his body. Finally it seemed to make a decision and it crept forward slowly, as if afraid something terrible would befall it if it left the shelter of the table legs.
Harry held his breath as, ever so slowly, the other Tom crawled across the dirty floor until it was an arm's length from Harry's knees. Then it seemed to fall forward into the first Tom. Their two figures blended together and solidified and the child now holding Harry's middle looked less ragged, less hideous. The face turned up to Harry looked a little more human as the bruises faded a little, and the lumpy mass of skin grew more definite.
Tom gave a sigh and buried his head in Harry's chest. Harry's arms tightened around him as the scene once again faded and solidified into another place. They were in the woods now, the same woods were Ron had destroyed the locket Horcrux weeks ago. The child huddled there was just as frightened and pitiful. But he went into Harry's lap all the same.
The child in his lap now looked almost human. Their surrounded faded again and they were in the hallway outside the Room of Requirement. There were no signs of battle here, no clue that a war had raged here only an hour ago. The corridor was deserted, except for a scrawny, pale figure that hid in the corner between a staircase and a broom closet.
"It's okay, Tom. Come on," Harry held his arms out. The pale figure regarded him with glittering eyes before it too jumped into his arms and fell inside the first Tom.
They were in the Chamber of Secrets now. It was so dark that Harry could see nothing and so still that the only sound was the drip of water and Harry's own ragged breathing.
A scuttling sound came from the darkness to his right. Harry turned his head. He could just make out the pale, naked child.
He held out his arms and opened his mouth, but it was Tom, the Tom on his lap, that spoke.
"It is time to return to ourself," he said, and Harry was sure he spoke in Parseltongue.
The other child did not hesitate, but came right up to Harry bravely and melted into Tom. Harry looked down and somehow he could see Tom's little face smiling up at him, a younger version of the Tom Riddle that he had met inside the diary.
"Almost done," the child said, and dropped his head once more to Harry's chest.
And then the world was melting away and Harry was lying face down again, with dirt in his mouth. He could feel the forest around him, even as he felt ghostly arms still wrapped firmly around him. Harry was back inside his own body, but Tom was somehow still with him.
Harry heard the Death Eaters talking to Voldemort and someone ordered forward. Cold hands touched him, checking to see if he still breathed. A curtain of long hair fell onto Harry's face.
"Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?" The barely audible words were whispered in his ear and Harry realized that it was Narcissa Malfoy.
"Yes," he breathed back. He felt her hands withdraw as she stood up.
"He is dead!" Narcissa announced. A shout of triumph came from the Death Eaters, and a roar of grief from Hagrid. Harry focused on keeping his body perfectly still and limp as the Dark Lord shot the Cruciatus curse at him, as the Death Eaters laughed and celebrated, as Hagrid sobbed. Harry heard Hagrid ordered forward to pick him up. Voldemort was going back to the castle and wanted to bring his prize with him.
The Stone, a small voice said. The Resurrection Stone. You must bring it.
It was Tom that was speaking, Harry knew, but there was nothing Harry could do. His wand was tucked into the front of his shirt and he could not move without giving himself away. He concentrated on keeping his body limp, his mouth slack and open. Hagrid's tears splashed on Harry's face.
"Stop."
Someone passed close by Harry, and he knew it was Voldemort. It was strange to be this close to him without the pain in his scar flaring to life. He heard Voldemort taunting the people inside Hogwart's with the fact of Harry's death and anger burned through Harry as he heard startled gasps and cries.
"No!"
"NO!"
Harry! HARRY!"
Ron and Hermione's voices rose in anguished denial and Harry wanted to jump up, to reveal that it was all a lie. He forced himself to lie silent, rage and grief choking his throat. Harry felt invisible arms tighten around him, trying to give comfort.
There was a scuffle and a shout, then a bang and flash of light. Harry slit his eyes open to see that someone had broken free from the door of the Great Hall and charged at Voldemort. Harry saw the figure on the ground, hit with a Disarming spell.
"And who is this?" Voldemort said softly, throwing his would-be assailant's wand aside. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"
Neville Longbottom struggled up. Harry barely heard Bellatrix introduce him to the Dark Lord, or Voldemort's reply. A sense of anticipation was filling Harry.
So close now, Tom's voice said in his head.
"I'll join you when hell freezes over," Harry heard Neville defying the Dark Lord he used to fear. "Dumbledore's Army!" he shouted, and there was an deafening cheer from the fighters within Hogwarts.
"Very well, "Voldemort's soft voice was chilling. "On your head so be it."
Still watching through his lashes, Harry saw Voldemort wave his wand and something zoom towards him from an upper-floor window. Something dark and dilapidated flew into the Dark Lord's outstretched hand and Harry finally identified as it came to rest; the Sorting Hat.
Voldemort flicked his wand and the hat forced itself down onto Neville's head. Neville seemed unable to move, frozen to the spot.
"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me," said Voldemort. Another flick of his wand caused the Sorting Hat to burst into flames.
Neville's head was engulfed in flames, his screams ringing in Harry's head. Harry could not bear it. He had to do something, he had to save Neville-
Not yet, Tom hissed at him, still speaking in Parseltongue.
Harry heard a distant roar of shouts coming from the periphery of the school grounds and a cacophony of roars from the direction of the castle but Harry did not take his eyes off of Neville. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Neville broke free of the Body-Bind and swept the Hat off his head, reaching inside of it and pulling out a silver sword.
Now, Tom's voice urged. Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak out of his pocket and flung it over himself. He pulled out his wand too, and muttered "Accio Resurrection Stone."
Harry felt the stone slap into his hand at the same moment that Neville raised the sword of Gryffindor and ran towards Voldemort. With one smooth stroke, Neville brought the blade down and severed the head of the enormous snake that had been wound around Voldemort's shoulders.
The Dark Lord's mouth opened in a scream. A figure burst from the snake's neck-the thin, pale body of a child had appeared in the place the snake's head used to be.
Come, hurry, Harry heard Tom cry and the child ran towards Harry and disappeared into the place where the invisible Tom rested. He heard Tom's cry of triumph as everything snapped back into reality.
The scene was a confusion of running people and spells lighting the pre-dawn courtyard. People poured from the castle, even as reinforcements appeared from the direction of Hogsmead. Giants roared as winged creatures soared at their heads, thestrals and Buckbeak the hippogriff joining the fray.
Harry's eyes searched they chaos, trying to find the Dark Lord. More fighters poured from the castle. Harry could hear Kreacher's voice crying, "Fight! Fight for my Master, defender of house-elves!" and felt his heart constrict with emotion. Still under the Invisibility Cloak Harry was buffeted by the crowd of people. Hexes and curses flew past him.
"Where is Voldemort?" Harry cried, scanning the crowd.
There, Tom answered and Harry felt his attention directed towards the huge double doors that led inside the castle. He turned and saw Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange fighting their way up the stairs and into Hogwarts.
Harry took off after them, tripping over fallen bodies, dodging curses. He burst through the doors and pushed across the entrance hall into the Great Hall.
Voldemort was dueling McGonagall, Slughorn, and Kingsley all at once and there was cold hatred on his face as they wove and ducked around him, sending desperate curses at him but unable to finish him-
It is time, Tom whispered. Harry looked down and he could see a ghostly outline of the child clinging to him, his small, handsome face upturned, his dark eyes shining.
"Yes," Harry answered and whipped the Invisibility Cloak from his body.
"Voldemort!" Harry cried.
There was a yell of shock as heads turned at his cry. Fighters broke apart, all eyes on him and he began to walk across the Hall towards the Dark Lord.
Voldemort's eyes widened as he saw Harry. "You're dead," he cried.
"You've been wrong about that before," Harry answered. He raised his voice, "I don't want anyone trying to help. It's got to be him and me."
Voldemort hissed. "You speak as if you're sure you can win, Potter."
Harry smiled. "There are no more Horcruxes, Riddle. They're all gone. It's just you and me now."
"You and me?" Voldemort sneered. "You are no match for me, foolish child. Without Dumbledore pulling your strings you are nothing."
Harry felt Tom's arms tighten around him again. "I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. Important things that you don't. Do you want to know one of them?"
"Is it love again?" Voldemort jeered. His snakelike face twisted into a mocking smile. "Yes, Dumbledore favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquers death." Voldemort's laugh was high and cold. "But it did not save your dear Mudblood mother, did it? Nothing conquers death, Potter. Nothing but this."
Voldemort brandished the Elder Wand. Harry shook his head.
"A wand cannot stop death, Riddle. And even if it could," Harry shrugged, "There are worse things than Death."
Voldemort's eyes narrowed, "There is nothing worse than death!" Harry was reminded of Dumbledore's confrontation with Voldemort in the Ministry of Magic. The Headmaster had said that Voldemort's refusal to understand that there are worse things than death was his greatest failing.
And that Harry's greatest power was love.
And suddenly everything was clear.
Harry felt Tom's invisible arms release him.
"This is you're last chance," he said quietly. "Try for some remorse. Try to feel something…Be a man, Try…"
Voldemort sneered. It's all right, Harry, Tom spoke from beside him. Do it now.
Harry pointed his wand at Voldemort just as Voldemort pointed the Elder Wand at him. The curse did not matter, of course. Harry was quite sure that the Elder Wand would not strike down him, its Master.
"Expelliarmus!"
"Avada Kedavra!"
For the third time in his life, Harry was bathed a green light that passed over him harmlessly, leaving him quite alive. The Elder Wand jumped from Voldemort's hand and flew into Harry's.
" Now!" Harry could see Tom become more solid as he ran the few steps that separated him from his other-self. He leaped and Voldemort screamed as the rest of his soul tried to force itself back into his body.
Harry could hear the crowd's cries of shock and knew that they had seen it too, but no one moved. Voldemort sank down onto the floor, his pained screamed rending the air.
Harry remembered once asking Hermione if there was any way that Voldemort could put the pieces of his soul back together.
"Yes", she'd said, "But it would be excruciatingly painful."
Harry watched as the tiny body of the child Tom Riddle forced itself inside the larger body of Voldemort. First the legs than the torso, and finally the arms were shoved, inch-by-inch, through Voldemort's chest. Voldemort writhed, screaming, as his soul fought to return to its rightful place. Finally, only the head remained and it turned to Harry as it disappeared, a triumphant smile on its face. As the soul disappeared inside, Voldemort's body went slack.
Harry rushed to the inert body and knelt down. Voldemort stirred, his eyes opening and Harry noted that they were no longer red, but dark and shining, like the eyes of the child.
"I'm dying," Tom Riddle sighed softly and Harry knew that it was true. The magical force it took to fuse the pieces of his soul had drained him.
Harry felt something in his pocket burning into his leg. He reached in and took out the Stone. From his other pocket he pulled the Invisibility Cloak and the Elder Wand. As soon as the three objects came close to one another they began to glow, shining so brightly that Harry had to turn his head away. When the glow had died down, the Deathly Hallows were gone, and in their place, a heavy silver bracelet encircled Harry's wrist.
Harry stared down at it, feeling it pulse against his skin. Was this it then? Was he Master of Death now?
Harry put his fingertips to the silver bracelet and felt Death tug back at him.
What do you wish?
A dozen things flew through Harry's mind- his mother and father, Sirius, Fred and Lupin and Tonks, even Snape. Would they want to come back? And if they did, would they be half-shadows like the girl in the story, doomed to live when they were happy in death?
A rattle came from the throat of the man in front of him and Harry made a decision.
I want him, Harry answered.
Him? Not someone you love? Not your mother or father or someone else?
No, Harry answered firmly, I want him.
He could almost feel Death smiling. Wise, child. Very well.
The bracelet burned cold for a moment and then Harry heard a great gasp of air forced into Tom Riddle's lungs. Harry took his hand away from the bracelet and stood, waving his wand over the figure on the floor. Ropes shot out of it and bound the former-Dark Lord tight.
People were moving now. Kingsley and Mr. Weasley both came forward, their wands pointed on the fallen man. Riddle's eyelids fluttered and then opened and looked around, before they pinned Harry with their dark gaze. Harry felt something pass between them, an understanding. Riddle bowed his head and allowed the approaching Order members to haul him to his feet.
No one else moved as Tom Riddle was positioned between the Auror and Mr. Weasley. Kingsley kept his wand on him and Mr. Weasley reached out, preparing to Apparate them through the fallen wards and directly to Azkaban. Riddle turned his head and looked at Harry, his mouth forming words that were drown out by the faint pop as all three men disappeared.
In the general riot of joy that followed, Harry hardly had a moment to contemplate what had happened. Ron and Hermione and the rest of the Weasley's crowded around, hugging him. Everyone was cheering, crying or squeezing the person next to them for joy. Harry smiled and shook hands and accepted the congratulations while his head spun and his tired feet stumbled. Finally he sought his bed, setting Kreacher at the door to guard against intrusion.
Harry laid down on the bed that had been his in the Gryffindor dormitory in what seemed like a lifetime ago. The fingertips of his left hand stroked the bracelet around his wrist. He closed his eyes and, just before dropping into sleep, he saw Tom Riddle's face again, his lips speaking soundless words that looked a lot like "Thank you".
Fin.
