Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the Harry Potter universe. All recognizable characters, plots and settings are the exclusive property of J.K Rowling. I make no claim to ownership nor do I make any profit.

Acknowledgments: Thank you to my betas Umar, Luq707, Yoshi89 and Fezzik for their work on this story.

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Recommendations:

Harry Potter and The Prince of Slytherin by The Sinister Man.

Harry Potter and The Boy-Who-Lived by The Santi.

Growing Up Black by ElvindorkNigellus.

The Hero and The Veela by JackPotter.

Stepping Back, and Honour Thy Blood by TheBlack'sResurgence.

The Mind Arts by Wu Gang.

A Cadmean Victory by DarknessEnthroned.

Magicks of The Arcane by Eilyfe.

"Speech"

'Internal Dialogue'

Parseltongue

Memories/In Story Text

Harry Potter and The Dark Lord's Equal

By ACI100.

Year 2: The Looming of Shadows.

Chapter 20: Interlude.

February 15th, 1993

Professor McGonagall's Office

3:23 AM

The trek back up into the castle proper was one of the longest trips of Harry's life. He resented the entire affair. Primarily because the agony wrought by the Cruciatus Curse was still very much present in every fibre of his being. The simple motion of standing to his feet was incredibly taxing, let alone the effort it took to walk. What made the situation even worse was that he was forced to lean heavily on Snape for support as the Potions Master levitated Ginny, Hermione, Dean and Ron ahead of them.

This was rather problematic for two reasons. One of which was that Harry detested physical contact of any kind. The other was that he loathed contact even more when it concerned his Potions Master. Granted, he had an immeasurable amount more respect for Snape now than he'd had upon their arrival down in the Chamber, but it did not change the fact that Harry was still rather unfond of the man.

Even when he did get a brief reprieve from the necessitated closeness, it was to take a rather uncomfortable ride up the tube back up to the school. Harry sincerely wished that the now baby phoenix, Fawkes, had not been hit with the killing curse. If he'd have avoided that fate, he'd have simply been able to flame them all to where they needed to go. But without that ability, it was a long, monotonous journey.

None of the unconscious students stirred as they walked. Ginny had been stunned by Snape before leaving the Chamber. If the man was to be believed, waking up in an unknown environment probably wouldn't be the best for her mental stability. There was also the small problem that she'd just experienced months on end with the Dark Lord in her head. Whether it was a teenaged version of him or not, Snape had reasonably pointed out that she was a wildcard to put it kindly.

As much as Harry hated to admit Snape was right about anything at all, he grudgingly had to concede that the man had a point.

Beyond that bit of obligatory chatter, the two of them shared silence on their way up to the castle. Harry leaned on Snape as they neared McGonagall's door, sorting hat in hand. Snape had a firm grip on the sword, but he kept glancing from the blade to the youth at his side.

At long last, Snape pushed open the door and practically dragged Harry into McGonagall's office after first floating in the unconscious students. A scream was the first thing Harry heard as Molly Weasley rushed forward towards her two children, clearly in hysterics. It took a significant amount of time to assure her that they were both perfectly unharmed. She insisted on asking about Harry as well, but he brushed her aside the best he could

Unfortunately, she was not having it.

"Come on, dear." She told him, trying to take a light grip on his arm. "I'm taking these two to the Hospital Wing. I'll take you as well. You clearly need some attention."

"Mrs. Weasley, I'm fine-"

"Harry, you can barely stand. You need help. I'll take you, dear, it's no trouble."

"My apologies, Molly," came a strong, clear voice from the doorway to the office, "but I am afraid I have rather urgent business to attend to with Harry. He does indeed need attention and I do promise you he will receive it promptly. But before he does, there are things that the two of us must discuss."

Harry's entire body jolted at the voice that he knew so very well. He struggled to turn, using Snape as a point of balance as he stared, open mouthed at Albus Dumbledore. He was standing in the doorway of the office with a travelling cloak still pulled tightly around him. There were even bits of snow in his hair and beard. It was clear that he'd rushed to Hogwarts as quickly as he could and had only just arrived. Upon seeing its master, the baby phoenix let out a soft trill, bouncing on Harry's shoulder as it stared expectantly at Dumbledore. For a split second, there was surprise in the old man's face. Then, he held out his hand, and Fawkes floated softly into his grasp.

Yet another magical who could wield the force of magic without a wand. Something to look into, eventually.

"Headmaster!" Molly protested. "He's hurt! He needs medical attention-"

"And he will have it, Molly, I assure you. For now, it is essential that I speak with Harry as soon as possible. There are things that need to be discussed between the two of us. I would not insist if it was not a matter of the utmost urgency."

Mrs. Weasley reluctantly deflated. "Yes, of course, Albus. I know you wouldn't. I just worry, you know?"

"I understand very well, Molly. It is an admirable quality that has helped you to raise many wonderful children. Take Ronald and Ginevra to Pomfrey. In my admittedly amateur opinion, neither of them look in dire conditions, but it is still best if you hurry in matters pertaining to such things." Molly nodded, casting one, final look back towards Harry before exiting the room.

When Molly left with her children, Dumbledore turned to McGonagall. "Minerva, I do hate to impose so swiftly upon my arrival, but could you please escort Mister Thomas and Miss Granger to the Hospital Wing? Once there, I would be ever so grateful if you could get in touch with their parents. As well as Lady Longbottom, if possible."

Harry's heart gave a jolt. In all the chaos that had been the last number of hours, he'd almost completely forgotten about Neville.

"Right away, Albus." Professor McGonagall said, levitating the students in question out of the room as she quickly strode after them.

"Severus," Dumbledore said tiredly, "my brave friend, would it be an overextension on my part if I asked you to await me up in my office? I have matters of the private variety to discuss with Harry here first." Harry thought he did see a flash of annoyance on Snape's face, but he nodded curtly so soon after that he may well have imagined the whole thing.

Only when Snape had swept from the room, easing Harry into a conjured, plush armchair courtesy of the Chief Warlock did Dumbledore sigh heavily, sinking into the chair across from Harry.

"Sir," Harry asked at once, "Is Neville-"

"Mister Longbottom will be perfectly fine, Harry. I admit, I have ascertained very little in regards to his situation, but he seemed no worse for wear, in the grand scheme of things. Just one of many to fall victim to the heinous scheme that has been this entire year, I am afraid. While we're on the topic, tell me, Harry. What is it that has all transpired this year at Hogwarts? Fill in the sizeable gaps in an old man's knowledge, if you would be so kind."

And so he did.

He told Dumbledore of the way that Riddle had manipulated Ginny and how, in turn, she had poured her heart and soul into the enchanted diary, which now lay between them after being discarded there by Snape moments earlier. He told Dumbledore of Riddle's scheming with Ron and Lockhart and how it had all connected to Harry. How Riddle's goal had been to get he, Dumbledore, out of the castle in order to strike at Harry more directly. When he told Dumbledore about the diary, an odd, dark… something flashed in the man's eyes. Harry paused his tale for only a second, but by the time he had done so, the look had vanished altogether. Finally, he told Dumbledore about the events following his removal from the castle, including a full, unedited account of the night's events.

When he finished, a ringing sort of silence stretched between them. It was not necessarily unpleasant, just wholly and completely absolute.

"Despite my exceedingly lofty expectations, you never do disappoint, Harry. I had full and complete faith in you to defeat whatever remnant of Tom that was causing this. Admittedly, I underestimated exactly how dangerous and sophisticated that remnant could be. I would likely have played my hand differently had I realized what we were well and truly up against. But in the end, it matters not. You have triumphed once more. For the third time in your short span of life, you have defeated Lord Voldemort, albeit in a different form, on this occasion."

"I didn't though." Harry said bitterly, allowing his true thoughts out for the first time since the whole debacle. Every minute or so, an agonizing spasm would wrack his body. Aside from that, however, he could now coherently communicate his thoughts, which was a massive plus, given the situation at hand.

Dumbledore looked taken aback. "Didn't what, exactly?"

"I didn't beat him. It was Snape who beat him. He was the one who killed the basilisk and destroyed the diary. Without him, I'd be dead." To say that was difficult to admit was like saying basilisks did not make safe pets. Harry still had an immense amount of resentment for Snape, but facts were facts, unfortunately. "Hell," Harry muttered, taking the thought process further still, "I've never beat him. Not really, at least. When I was a baby, I only survived because my mother died for me. Last year, it was the same protection that killed Quirrell, not anything I did. And this year, I was helpless. I tried to block an Unforgivable with a Protego, for Merlin's Sake. If It wasn't for Snape, I'd be dead. I'd never have beaten him. I might never-"

"Enough."

Dumbledore did not raise his voice. In fact, he spoke more softly than Harry was accustomed to. In spite of that, his voice cut through Harry's musings like a knife through hot butter. Harry was immediately silenced by the weight of Dumbledore's undertones and the intensity In his no longer twinkling eyes.

"You are truly remarkable, Harry. More remarkable than any boy your age whom I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Most boys your age would sit before me without an ounce of modesty if put in your place. They would be on cloud nine. They would be euphoric with their victory and I would worry deeply for a possible, unhealthy rise in their confidence. Instead, you sit here before me the exact opposite. You speak not of the incredible things you have done, but of the impossible things you have not managed to achieve.

I am, of course, wholly unsurprised by that fact. It is a good trait to have, modesty. It keeps one honest, in most instances. It wards off over confidence and allows one's motivation to stay high, in turn driving them to do remarkable things. There is a point, however, when modesty becomes unhealthy, when applied in the extreme. In your case, it is partially modesty and partially the overwhelming guilt that you irrationally feel." When Harry made to cut in, Dumbledore raised a hand to forestall him.

"You are speaking emotionally, Harry, not logically. Allow me to attempt to pull aside the veil of emotions and expose the truth for what it truly is. Eleven and a half years ago now, Lord Voldemort attacked your family. On that night, you were his downfall. In many ways, his defeat can be attributed to your mother's noble sacrifice, this much is true. Of course, there were… other forces at play that Halloween night that we need not get into quite yet. For the sake of argument, I will concede your point and we shall say that on that night, it was your mother who had bested Lord Voldemort.

"Fast forward a decade and you are at Hogwarts. As a result of my own horrific mistakes, you grew up with no advantages." Dumbledore scowled. "Well, I suppose that's not true. You grew up with every disadvantage one could imagine but from that turbulent environment, advantages were indeed born. By the time you stepped foot in this school, you were already quite remarkable.

Your resilience was something to be prided, your loyalty to those you care for was unmatched and despite all of the emotional torment you went through, you remained unbroken as a result of said resiliency. But more than that, you had goals. You were driven, more so perhaps than any first year student I have ever met. Your mind was already magnificent as well, which, loathe as I am to admit it, I think was partially aided by the trials and tribulations you were forced to go through."

Harry nodded, reluctantly conceding the point. If he'd have had more ways to occupy his time at Privet Drive, perhaps he wouldn't have turned to books and knowledge as a salvation.

Still, he failed to see where this was going. Fortunately for him, Dumbledore pressed on valiantly.

"Then," Dumbledore continued, "you arrived at Hogwarts. At long last, you were where you always should have been, in this world, I mean. But still, you had to overcome trials and tribulations unimaginable for an eleven year old. And yet, you did it. You pieced together the mystery of the fake Philosopher's Stone. You correctly deduced that it was indeed Lord Voldemort after the stone. You skillfully evaded the defenses and stared down Lord Voldemort. Though it was your mother's protection that finished the job, it was your deductive reasoning, strategic thinking and overwhelming purity that defeated Lord Voldemort. Do you have any idea, Harry, how special a person needed to be in order to look in that mirror and see themselves with the stone? Whether it was the true stone or not is irrelevant. If you had not removed it from the mirror, Voldemort may well have never had cause to touch you. If this was the case, he may well have escaped that night.

"And now, not a year later, you have bested him again, albeit in a different form. You managed to find the fabled Chamber of Secrets, something Headmasters and Headmistresses past have failed to do for centuries. Why, I include myself on that very long list. You willingly walked into the path of fire in search of victory and liberty for those who you care for. Your will overpowered Tom Riddle's in the diary. Down in the Chamber, from what I understand, it was once more your strategic thinking and calmness in the face of fire that allowed you to defeat Tom Riddle. Severus was only able to finish the job because you had done such a marvellous job at getting him to that point, Harry.

"You say that you did not beat Voldemort because oftentimes, you have not been the one to deal the final blow. A man's defeat cannot be summarized by a single mov,. It is a sequence consisting of a countless number of events which lead to a person's defeat. In all three of these instances, you were the driving catalyst for the vast majority of these events. How could you have delivered the final blow as a toddler? It would have been impossible. Even last year, an eleven year old boy could have never dreamt of beating Voldemort in open combat no matter the form he took. And tonight, if there was any twelve year old in the world who knew of a way to destroy this diary, I would be immeasurably concerned for that child's future."

A long, heavy silence stretched between them once more as Harry mulled over everything the man had said. He needed to be better in spite of all Dumbledore had laid out. This much was true and irrefutable. He needed the ability to finish the job in the future. Both for his safety and his own, selfish reasons. He did see where Dumbledore was coming from and the man made some compelling points.

He would let the matter drop, for now, but his feelings of inadequacy had not been vanquished.

He would not allow them to consume him, as Dumbledore clearly feared. Instead, he would use them as further motivation. They would be what drove him to make the necessary steps to ensure that one day, hopefully in the not so distant future, he would no longer need to rely on the intervention of others.

Never again.

"What ails you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. "I know that I will not sway you completely to my way of thinking on our previous point of discussion, but there is still something bothering you deeply. Something else."

Harry hesitated, unwilling to put his feelings into words. What would Dumbledore say if he pointed these things out? Had the man missed them over the years? Would it change the way he looked at his star pupil?

But Dumbledore had never done that before. Harry trusted him more than anyone in the world aside from maybe Neville and Augusta.

"Riddle and I talked down in the Chamber." Harry said quietly.

"Ah," Dumbledore mused, "so you have met Tom Riddle, have you? I confess, it does not surprise me that Riddle was intensely interested in you. He was an obsessive being, even as a child. He was also more than likely the most gifted student to ever walk these hallowed halls." Dumbledore smiled minutely. "Until you arrived, perhaps."

Harry spared a weak smile for Dumbledore. "Yeah, he was interested in me. He asked me how I survived on Halloween, for starters."

"Naturally." said Dumbledore. "I imagine lack of an answer on that front was destroying Tom for a… vast number of reasons, some more obvious than others."

That answer was interesting, but Harry had to continue his current train of thought. If he didn't, he may never summon up the courage to say it again.

"That… wasn't all he said. It wasn't the only reason he was interested in me." When Dumbledore looked at him expectantly, Harry took a deep, heavy sigh before taking the metaphorical plunge. "He said that we were similar. Eerily so, even, was how he described it."

"Ah," Dumbledore mused softly, "so that is the heart of your discontent, is it? Let me assure you, Harry, you are nothing like Tom Riddle. Surely, you can see that."

"He wasn't wrong." Harry said in barely more than a whisper. "There are… a lot of similarities between us. Both of us are halfbloods who were orphaned and raised by muggles. According to Riddle, he was also raised by muggles who hated and wanted nothing to do with him. When we got to Hogwarts, we both became magical prodigies. The best of our generations, by far, is how he described it. Both of us are Parselmouths. Probably the only two this century, even. We're the only two known students to find the Chamber of Secrets." Harry made a face. "We even look alike." He said with some disgust.

"There are other things, too. If I were in his position, I'd have been just as curious about me as he was. If I were in his position, I wouldn't rest until I knew the big secret that was being kept from me." He looked up at Dumbledore, almost imploringly. "There are too many similarities. We're alike. What if… what if something happens down the line. What if… what if-"

"What if you go down the road that Lord Voldemort walked decades before you were born?"

With an extreme degree of hesitance, Harry nodded.

Dumbledore sat back in his chair, a look more calculating than Harry had ever seen was evident on his face. He seemed to ponder something very intensely. Perhaps it had to do with all of this? Perhaps it was whatever bit of information Dumbledore had not told him at the end of his first year. Perhaps he was contemplating on whether or not to tell Harry.

"I will not deny any of those parallels between yourself and Voldemort." Dumbledore conceded. "But there are other things you need to understand about Tom Riddle, Harry. First and foremost, Riddle was a master manipulator long before he took his O.W.L exams. Before he even arrived at Hogwarts, to an extent. It does not surprise me at all he brought this information forth in the manner he did so. Riddle made points that would naturally be compelling to you, but he did not contextualize said points. Because I understand why you will take these with such surety, allow me to deconstruct Tom's arguments. Then, once I have done so, I will explain why none of them are relevant to the topic at hand."

Nervously, with a fair bit of apprehension, Harry nodded.

"Both of you being half bloods does not make you similar, Harry. That is simply a fundamental fact about both of you that neither can change. It has absolutely no bearing on the person you will one day become and it means nothing outside the political arena. Tom was not orphaned. Not completely, in any case. It is true that his mother died giving birth to him on a cold, winter's night many years ago. His father, however, was very much alive. Tom Riddle Sr. abandoned his one time lover long before Lord Voldemort was born. If I am correct in my assumption, and I'm sure that I am, it was Voldemort who murdered his muggle father years later in cold blood." Harry's eyes widened at the horror of that situation. "As for yourself, you were quite literally orphaned as a result of Lord Voldemort's actions. It is he who created any similarity in that arena. There is a world of difference in your situations.

As for the muggles who raised you, I will not deny that both yourself and a young Tom Riddle grew up in less than desirable situations. In truth, I believe you had it far worse than he. I do not believe the matrons of the orphanage in which Tom grew up ever went out of their way to abuse him as your aunt and uncle did to you. Mind you, it is true that they were intensely neglectful and, if my research on the matter holds true, they did ignore a staggering amount of bullying on the part of the other children. This is perhaps the most notable similarity between yourself and Voldemort and I will come back to it in a moment.

As for both being magical prodigies, again, this is true. Riddle was not mistaken in telling you that you were both heads and shoulders above all of your peers. I would go as far as to say the gap between the two of you and the respective next best students in each of your years was and is insurmountable. This does not make you similar to Voldemort. By this logic, I can say that the two of us are extremely similar as well, for I also found myself in the same, exact position many, many years ago.

Let's see, what's next? Ah yes, Parseltongue. The truth of the matter, Harry, is that you are only a Parselmouth because Lord Voldemort is a Parselmouth. That night in Godric's Hollow, when the killing curse rebounded, it did far more than destroy the Dark Lord. Magic like what transpired that night has consequences. It formed a connection of sorts between yourself and Voldemort. A connection deeper than any I have ever seen before. It is this connection which rendered the trauma at the end of your first year to be far greater than it should have been. It is this connection that will strengthen as Lord Voldemort himself inevitably grows stronger. And it is this connection which allows you to understand and speak to snakes. There is no similarity there. Just a magical anomaly that allows it to exist.

Have I missed anything?"

Harry sat in silence as he pondered everything Dumbledore had gone over. In his personal opinion, a connection between himself and Voldemort only made the issue more pronounced. He could see where Dumbledore was coming from, but there were deeper things too.

"I see you are not completely convinced, as of yet. I knew this would be the case. Nothing Voldemort described is a true similarity, Harry. Nothing with the exception of your upbringing, perhaps. It is because of this upbringing that both of you are very logical thinkers, which is perhaps the most glaring similarity that admittedly exists. You are both clinical people, which works to your favour in most cases. In matters like this, however, it also means both of you oftentimes miss the bigger picture. Neither of you are rightly equipped to perceive and evaluate emotions. You are making great progress on this front, and the fact is one of many things which separates you and Voldemort, who never sought to remedy that glaring weakness.

Because of your tendency to overlook emotions and their true meaning, you, like Voldemort fail to see what a true similarity is, Harry. It is rooted in far deeper things than coincidental evidence, I'm afraid. It is not the events that transpire around a person which shapes them. It is how that person evaluates said events and grows from them. It is in the same vein that it is not our actions that define us, but our choices and the deep, intricate thoughts that go into each and every one of them." Dumbledore cast a sideways glance towards the ancient hat on the table. "That proof is in the pudding, Harry. When Voldemort rested the sorting hat atop his head, there was only one place for him to go. He was too cunning and far too ruthless to go anywhere else. He would never have been a Gryffindor, for instance. Bravery and chivalry. Tom Riddle never had the moral compass to be anything bordering on chivalrous."

"The only reason I'm in Gryffindor," Harry muttered, "is because I asked to be."

"Exactly!" Dumbledore exclaimed. "And that, Harry, is why you are nothing like Tom Riddle. Riddle sought to go off to Slytherin so he could further his ruthless, manipulative ways. In doing so, being a half blood and a dictator at heart, Riddle forfeited any chance at true friendship. Riddle chose power and prestige over friendship and happiness. Once more, Harry, it is our choices which define us. Would Tom Riddle have risked his life for his friends this evening? Would Tom Riddle have gone after Mister Longbottom at risk of his own death last year? Would Tom Riddle have fought a full grown mountain troll at the age of eleven. Lord Voldemort has always and will always do what is easy, Harry. You, more so than any child I have ever met, have an astounding attraction to doing what is right."

For the first time, Dumbledore had actually managed to cast a degree of doubt on Harry. Doubt at whether or not the comparisons mentioned by Riddle held any true validity.

Before he could think too much more on the matter, the door to the office burst open once more and this time, it was no professor who entered.

Instead, it was a rather irate looking Lucius Malfoy with a battered looking house elf at his heels. As the man entered the room and rounded on Dumbledore, Harry's eyes flashed from the diary to the man himself and a revelation and idea came together in his mind.

Author's Endnote:

I don't feel the need to rehash that last scene, because it goes pretty much the same way as in canon. Dumbledore outplays Lucius and Harry tricks him into losing his temper by making insinuations involving the diary. The only difference is that Dumbledore witnessed the whole thing, this time around.

Oh and damn, there are strong opinions about Snape. I had him do one positive thing and got demonized for it in the reviews. Apparently, I'm not allowed to have a character people dislike have any redeeming qualities or moments, so I'll keep that in mind for future reference.

In all seriousness, if it offends you that much, stop reading. I am not going to make Snape a beacon of morality, but I'm also not going to portray him as a two dimensional bastard for a million words, I hate to break it to you.

I am going to have to contradict something I said on the last upload. After chapter 34, I said that updates would be weekly until the end of year 2 and then at that point, I would be taking a sizeable break from the story in order to pre-write year 3 as well as focus more on my main story.

Unfortunately, I am going to have to go to biweekly uploads until the end of year 2 (one every two weeks). Though I still probably could maintain a weekly upload schedule, as I have nothing pre-written, it really doesn't allow me to get ahead in anything else, since my main story is on a weekly upload schedule. Though it is logistically possible, I think it best both for my mental health and for the inevitable quality of the chapters that I move this to biweekly until the end of year 2.

It may return to weekly uploads come year 3. That will just depend on how much I have pre-written. If I had pre-written chapters, I would still have this as a weekly story, but I just don't.

Please read and review.

The next chapter will be posted on Sunday, August 16th, 2020.