The new light.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is obviously not mine, anything you don't is.
Five
As soon as Harry landed on the muddy floor of the graveyard, he immediately wrapped his arms around his body as a chill wind weaved its way through the material of his muggle clothes.
He looked down at his attire and watched calmly as the jeans and jumper changed into that of a long black sweeping cloak and robe. Grinning to himself he looked round at his surrounds. It was over a year ago since he had last been here, and back then he was not prepared for Voldemort. But now, well now was different. He was different.
Pulling his hood up to cover his face Harry set off, weaving his way through the barren graveyard. The eerie silence of the place would have sent shivers down the spine of anyone else. But Harry welcomed it. If one listened hard enough they could hear the anguished cried of those dead and long forgotten.
He continued on his trek taking in the names and brief history of every tomb stone that he passed until he reached the one he was searching for. He stopped by the side of it and knelt down in the mud. Slowly and carefully he ran his pale fingers over the disturbed ground and over the name on the stone.
Tom Riddle
That was all it said, there was no message from his mother or father, because they had died at the same time, there are their graves over there to the right. There was no message from his son, who by this point already hated him beyond even the slightest consideration; it was he who sent him here in the first place, there was no message from his wife who had died 16 years before. There was nothing only the name.
Harry closed his eyes and his hand sunk through the mud and into the grave. The ground glowed a deep purple and slowly Harry removed his hand from the mud and with it the skeleton frame of Tom Riddle.
Very carefully he laid the body out on the ground and placed both of his hands over the frame. The bones glowed dark purple, like the ground had, and very slowly the bones re-joined themselves and the muscles that had deteriorated long ago began to reform. Weaving in and out of each other until complete, then a pale layer of skin started to form over the muscles then another and another.
The body of Tom Riddle had been remade.
