Fate's strange sense of humor

Talking with Tom had been exhausting, but when Harry laid in his bed, sleep didn't come immediately. He was surprised by the number of emotions and experiences he and Tom shared. He was aware of this since his second year at least. And he had received warnings about it from Slytherin himself. But knowing it and realising it were two different things.

There was something else he had to face. Something that bothered him greatly.

Tom wasn't his parent's murderer. For the very simple reason that Tom wasn't Voldemort. The boy wasn't a good person. His innocence had been trampled on and he had made wrong choices. But from the moment he had started to split up his soul, he had begun to lose himself and had become a very different wizard.

Harry wanted to hate the boy he had managed to pull out of the Horcrux. But he couldn't. To be honest, if his parents had abandoned him he wasn't sure he would have made better choices on his side.

He wouldn't have fought the Sorting Hat's decision to send him to Slytherin. He wouldn't have become the youngest Seeker in Hogwarts history and wouldn't have known the unique sense of freedom that flying brought him and that had comforted him many times.

He wouldn't have met Ron and Hermione.

But he would still have refused to shake Malfoy's hand, he thought with a smile. That little git.

He couldn't deny he never had the idea of ruining everything and fleeing Merlin knew where. But the fact that he could always rely on someone to help him, had been determining. Tom had no one.

He turned to the other side of his bed. Tomorrow would be a long day.

Tom remained for quite a long time when Harry left. He eventually glanced at the basilisk who hissed at him with defiance. Harry Potter was a strange boy. He definitely wasn't the typical Gryffindor. He wasn't a golden boy, had a past which rivaled with his in terms of sorrow and was apparently a Parseltongue. This was Slytherin's Heritage and he didn't understand how someone unrelated to his lineage possessed it. Also he owned a basilisk. A quick glance at his features made him realise that this one was of the same family of his own basilisk. The snake was young. It could be very possible the snake's mother had been his basilisk.

He looked at the remains of his old friend with sadness.

What a fool he had been. He realised it now. He had thought he had been better than everyone else. Sharper, cleverer, destined to a bright future where he would be able to show everyone how superior he was. And apparently he had succeeded. But this part was foggy in his head. Everything that had happened after he had created the Horcrux with the ring of Gaunt was distant. He tried to remember Harry's parents. He could see himself going to a little cottage because he was convinced there was a child there he had to end. This child was a threat to his power. And then, a green beam. His curse that had turned against him.

He stood up and started to pace the room. The basilisk looked at him with an annoyed look. This boy was exhausting.

When Harry woke up, he immediately rushed toward the Chamber again. The basilisk hissed with satisfaction as he saw him cross the path between the row of statues.

'Hello you,' smiled Harry when he saw him. 'I hope he didn't bother too much?' He added while pointing at Tom who was observing them with a keen curiosity.

'I had a basilisk too,' intervened Tom. 'People think snakes are sly, even treacherous creatures. In fact they are among the most faithful ones.'

Harry nodded. He seemed calmer.

'I wanted to ask you something,' continued Tom in a neutral tone. 'How did you survive?'

Harry turned his gaze towards him. 'How is it that a young child survived the most powerful wizards of all time?'

'Ah, I already had this argument with another of your Horcruxes,' said Harry. 'Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard of all time. But that's besides the point.'

He then proceeded to explain how the sacrifice of his mother had granted him a protection so powerful even the Death Curse couldn't break it. That is why it had rebounced to hit Lord Voldemort with full force. Tom processed it but then he focused on another detail.

'Another of my Horcruxes? How many did you destroy?'

'I didn't even know what it was,' scoffed Harry. 'I destroyed your diary three years ago.'

'How did you do it?'

'Basilisk venom,' replied Harry while indicating the remains of the giant snake. 'How many did you create?'

But Tom didn't answer the question. So, this is why he had failed. Because of the love of a mother. He chuckled.

'What is so funny?' Asked Harry.

'Nothing. I just find it ironic that what destroyed me was the very thing I have always lacked. I don't know, I guess Fate has a strange sense of humor.'

He sighed and looked at Harry. He wasn't trying to conceal his sadness anymore.

'I took some time to think about what we discussed yesterday,' he continued. 'To a certain point I guess you were right.'

'To a certain point?' Noted Harry.

'They weren't all innocents,' replied Tom with disgust. 'I could regret killing Myrtle. But my father…'

'I understand.'

'Do you?'

'He betrayed you,' started Harry. 'When I learned about the wizard who betrayed my parents and gave Voldemort the information of where they lived, I also wanted to kill. I wanted to destroy him, I wanted everything about him gone. If I hadn't been stopped, I can't say for sure I would have spared him.'

They looked at each other in silence. There was no animosity in their eyes.

'I was so sure of myself then,' said Tom. 'I was convinced there was no light or dark…'

'Only power and those too weak to seek it,' finished Harry with a smile.

Tom narrowed his eyes.

'How often have we met since you came back to the Wizarding World?'

Harry proceeded to explain to him their first encounter in front of the Philosopher's Stone. He then moved forward to his second year. Without noticing it he started to add details to his story. His third year could have been more relaxing if his godfather hadn't escaped to seek revenge. Then there had been the Triwizard Tournament and the plot that led him to participate against his will.

'So he's back?' Said Tom when Harry was done.

"He?" They were making progress then.

'Didn't you mean: you're back?' asked Harry mischievously.

'You are annoying, do you know that?' Replied Tom. 'I knew that the creation of Horcruxes was a way to preserve myself, but I was also aware it would divide my soul. I… I just wanted revenge against those who harmed me. I wanted to make sure that time wouldn't stop me.' He looked into Harry's eyes. 'I remember killing Myrtle and I remember killing my father. Everything that happened then is a bit blurry. Like a book with missing pages. But if you tell me that I have become the kind of person willing to kill a baby to protect my power…' he shook his head. 'Then it means I wasn't able to control myself in the end.'

They both sat down and contemplated the ring the snake had freed as soon as Harry had been back.

'So, you speak Parseltongue?' Finally asked Tom.

'The night Voldemort's spell bounced back on me, it gave me this scar,' explained Harry while pointing a finger toward his forehead. 'Apparently I inherited some of your powers too that night.'

Tom's eyebrows furrowed.

'That's not right,' he muttered. 'Parseltongue is not a power.'

'What do you mean?' Asked Harry a bit surprised.

'Parseltongue is inherent to Slytherin's Heritage. It is not just a language, it is the way to communicate with snakes. If someone learnt Parseltongue, that wouldn't mean snakes would listen to them.' He turned his head toward Harry. 'But they listen to you. You even are the master of a basilisk!'

'I prefer to think of him as an ally,' said Harry quickly.

'Ally, servant, friend, whatever,' replied Tom. 'They wouldn't listen to you if you were just reciting the words. The Heritage of Slytherin flows within you. It is part of you.'

Harry wasn't sure if he liked what he was hearing.

'I do not know much about sacrificial magic,' said Tom hesitantly. 'But I know a lot about Horcruxes.' He stared at Harry who avoided his look. 'Living and not-living Horcruxes.'

Harry was frozen. His chest tightened and he thought he was on the verge of having a panic attack. But it made sense. His scar wasn't just a connection. It was the mark of the soul fragment he had received from Voldemort.

'Horcruxes,' recited Tom, 'are dormant parts of someone's soul. But they are nonetheless alive. I guess you have experienced weird mood swings or visions, haven't you?'

Harry just had the force to nod. He was shaking, the Prophecy was making much more sense now. A horrible smile drew on his face as he realised it.

'What is it?' Asked Tom concerned.

Harry recited the Prophecy and Tom almost jumped up.

'So, this is the Prophecy that binds us!'

'It intertwined our Fates,' corrected Harry bitterly. 'I would have preferred they never joined.' He took his head in his hands. 'Neither can live while the other survives! It makes sense now. If I am alive, I keep a fragment of his soul away from him and he can't fully live. At the same time, if he lives, I will never be fully myself.'

'You are correct,' nodded Tom. But he refrained from adding what he was thinking about.

'This is why I, and only I, have the power to vanquish him. We may destroy him and all the other Horcruxes. But only I will have the final word,' he closed his eyes. 'I have to die.'