Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Harry's eyes widened at the two words. Such ordinary words with such a strong meaning behind them.

Tom? He waited for a reply, hardly daring to breathe. He couldn't believe the absurdity of the situation. If it really was Voldemort communicating with him through this journal, then why hadn't he found a way to kill him off yet? He didn't know if he was happy or upset that he was still alive. Perhaps he was waiting to find something to use against him.

But that was ridiculous. Harry had practically spelled out all the horrible things that he had endured while he was here. That in and of itself was fuel enough to keep the papers busy for months, let alone for bringing down the morale of the witches and wizards fighting against Voldemort. How could their precious savior be tarnished in this way? Soiled, never to be innocent again. If he were looking for something to use against Harry and Dumbledore's side of the war, then surely he had more than enough fuel.

He blinked as he realized no matter the motives, he had grown to enjoy the conversations they had. And what did that say about how he felt? He had grown to somewhat trust this person on the other end of the journal.

Yes, I suppose you can call me Tom. It's much better than that cringy name an idiot teenager created. Voldemort, seriously what was I even thinking? And death eaters? Could I have been any more cliche? The ink appeared faster now, rushed almost. If you wish for me to leave you be, I will burn my journal that is linked to yours. I understand if you no longer wish to continue with our communications.

No, that's alright. You can be manipulative but...something is telling me that you're sincere within our messages to one another. Call it instinct I suppose. So far it hasn't let me die, even though you should have been able to kill me several times over.

Harry...I am sorry. It seems I was truly insane at one point thinking that a mere baby would hurt me. I am glad you defeated me. I needed a reality check and Merlin knows everyone over the age of three wouldn't have given it to me. A brief pause. I am so sorry I took your parents away. I cannot repay you for what I stole, and only wish that one day you may be able to forgive a crazy, power hungry lunatic of the past.

Harry's answer was immediate. He didn't even need to think about it.

But Tom, I had already forgiven you. People learn, they grow and collect new morals and learn from their mistakes. I've learned from others that my parents weren't really that memorable. My father played pranks and took his jokes too far on certain people and my mother was kind with pretty eyes. No one knows their favourite pastimes, what made them happy and what made them cry. No one knows what they believed in, what they found hope in. They remember my parents because their child was the Boy Who Lived. I don't remember them, I was too young. I forgave you for a lot of what you did back then, especially since you've returned and kept your masses under control. There's less violence now than there was when you were gone. I can't hate you for keeping things under control this time.

Harry's stomach growled, the pain shooting to his entire body.

Harry, listen to me very carefully. I understand if you want to stay in your circle of friends and with Dumbledore's side of things, but you need to be removed from your situation. It isn't healthy for you there.

I'm fine. I've been fine this long, what's another few weeks?

LOOK AT YOUR ARMS HARRY. THAT'S NOT FINE. THAT'S NOT THE SIGN OF A GOOD LIVING SITUATION. HAVE YOU EVEN LOOKED AT YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR LATELY? Harry flinched, the unexpected outburst bleeding into the paper like it would never go away. I don't mean to yell at you, but you are withering away to nothing. At least let me come to you. You don't have to come with me when I depart, but I would at least appreciate a moment to talk to you. Face to face.

Harry sighed. He knew it wouldn't be so easy as to say he was fine. But how did he know about his arms? Even though he wore a short sleeved shirt, it was so large that the arms covered everything he did to himself. Shame burned in the pit of his stomach at the thought of what else the piece of clothing hid.

My uncle will be returning home tomorrow morning. I'll allow you to be here for an hour starting at midnight tonight. I cannot allow anything more. He closed his eyes as thoughts assailed his mind. He couldn't risk anyone knowing the true extent of how poorly his life was going.

Tom smiled. He would certainly be there, and he would have enough sense to go through the bars on the window this time rather than the front door. He shouldn't have to sneak around picking locks like a common thief. Then he remembered the anti-magic wards.

Right, so flying in through the window wasn't going to happen. But if there was a way to get the bars off the house, that would allow him to have Nagini lift him up. She was long enough that she could do it and she was particularly adept at lifting him to places that he couldn't use magic to get to. Yes, that might work. But how to get the damn bars to let him through was another question entirely.

A few hours later he had an interesting idea. Pressing his wand to his mark, he summoned none other than the world's best potions master.

"Ah Severus, so glad you could make it." He didn't give the man any time to respond. "If someone could invent a potion to allow a witch or wizard to come and go from their animagus form at will without practice, even for an hour, you would be the man that would have invented it years ago." Severus rolled his eyes.

"Yes, my lord. I invented it last year actually, a special request for Madame Pomfrey at Hogwarts. Transfiguration had gotten a little out of hand that day. May I be so bold as to assume you would be wanting some of this particular potion?"

"Yes, if you could. How long does it take to brew?"

"I've got some stocked up at Hogwarts. Transfiguration doesn't mix well with Hufflepuffs, you know. I'll go fetch it at once and leave it with one of your house elves shall I? I do have classes to get back to." Tom hummed in agreement and thanked him before he left. The key to keeping Severus on his side was to treat him like his time was worth something.

It was exactly two minutes prior to midnight when he and Nagini arrived in front of Harry's residence. Tom downed the potion, not bothering to taste it. It left a slight aftertaste of what he could only describe as silver moonlight before it shifted his magic ever so slightly. He focused on changing, morphing himself into an animal. It was only when Nagini hissed in frustration did he open his eyes.

Suddenly the world was much larger and he was flat on the ground, and Nagini seemed much larger.

~Master, you've got to be kidding me~

~What are you talking about?~

~Look at yourself. Did you have any idea what you would even turn into? Now can I please go home? I have better things to do than slink around with no goal.~ Tom looked at himself and saw his scales glinting in the dark. He changed back to take Nagini home, quietly laughing to himself. Of course he would be a bloody snake himself. Once he was back at Privet Drive, he looked at the house. With only seconds to spare he was slithering through the open window, easily sliding through the bars.

There was no light turned on, forcing him to let his eyes adjust as soon as he was on his own two feet once more. He managed to make out Harry's outline, hunched over in the corner facing the wall. He slid his foot across the floor, just enough to alert Harry to his presence. When he turned his head to look, Tom felt his heart stop for a moment.

Gone was any childhood innocence. The light had long disappeared from his eyes, leaving them empty. He was hugging himself, making it painfully obvious just how small he really was. Tear streaks lined his face, while his hair hung limply. Tom made his way to him, proceeding with caution.

"Harry?" He held out a hand. "Can you stand?" The eyes glinted with trepidation, his entire body screaming caution with every move he made. Nonetheless, he did reach out and allowed himself to be pulled up.

The wincing didn't escape Tom's notice; however, he didn't comment on it.

"Please be honest with me. When was the last time you let anyone help you?" A pregnant pause followed and ended with Harry shaking his head.

"I-I don't let anyone help." His voice was broken. It had a hollow echo that spoke of pain and emptiness. It was obvious he hadn't talked in a very long time. "They shouldn't have to. I'm nothing but a burden as it is. Everyone around me already has to live with the knowledge that they're automatically top of your kill list just be associating with me. I can't ask for help. What would they say if they saw me now? Their saviour, beaten and stuffed into a corner in fear. Unable to practice magic-to even do homework. Too thin, nightmares that rip screams from him...no one wants to see me like this so they pretend it doesn't happen. It would break them all if they knew their precious hero was dead inside." A tear slid down his cheek, glinting like the stars in the sky. "I'm only worth anything if I'm strong in their eyes. And so I pretend to be strong for them. That is what I'm on this planet for." Tom shook his head.

"It is true, you are broken. But so are they for not seeing what a wonderful person you could be if only they would help put you back together again." Harry looked at the floor while he talked, mulling over his words until his head suddenly jerked up.

"What do you care?" His voice was full of distrust, his glare sharp enough to cut diamonds. "You want me dead anyway," his arms stretched out around him. "So do it already. Kill me. It's what you came for, yeah? My life is the only thing you've wanted since I was born. Take it. I don't want it." His eyes flashed, a silent challenge trying to egg him on.

"Harry, you don't believe that. Not even I believe that anymore. I haven't wanted to kill you for months. I've been quite happy sharing quite a few secrets with you, as a matter of fact." Harry's face fell, his arms lowering as what Tom was saying sunk in.

"You don't...want to kill me?"

"No, foolish bo-" He cut himself off as his eyes caught sight of Harry's arms. The young wizard quickly moved his arms to his sides, hiding them from sight. Tom held out his hand, his annoyance quickly being replaced with concern. "Please, let me see. I need to know." He looked into those green eyes, trying to convey how much he wanted to help. After a few moments of the two staring at each other in their own silent battle, Harry hung his head and held out his right arm.

Tom's fingers gently traced the cuts on his arm. There were too many to consider counting, some deeper than others. They went every which way, conveying the chaos that was in Harry's mind at their time of creation. The green eyes were closed now, shame staining his cheeks pink.

"Oh Harry…" The arm jerked out of his grasp.

"Don't. I don't want your pity." Tom scoffed at him, the annoyance returning.

"What, you think I pity you? No. I merely understand you, you dim-witted dolt! I'm not here to pity you. I'm here to help you in the way no one ever helped me. You think I like seeing you abused like this? You're the only one in this world that has battled me and lived to tell the tale, and you've done it more than once! Even Dumbledore hasn't beaten me in a duel. This isn't the Harry Potter I know. The Harry Potter I know would never let this happen. He wouldn't back down from a fight. He wouldn't cower in the corner while the world passes him by. He would fight."

Tears were now freely streaming down Harry's face.

"How dare you? I...you can't imagine what tortures I've endured here. Nothing you could dream up would compare. You want to know why I'm like this? You really want to know? Take a look. Rifle around in my head. Go for it. You're well known for getting all the information you want even without a wand. Have at it." Tom tilted his head and smiled sadly.

"Harry, I don't want to find out by force. I want you to trust me enough to tell me yourself."

"Why?" The snapped remark took him off guard. Why did he want Harry to confide in him so badly?

"I...bloody hell. Do you know why Dumbledore wants you to tell him every single time your scar hurts?" Harry's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, the curiosity helping him break out of his defensive stance ever so slightly.

"No. Just that I should tell him so he can make sure there I'm not sick."

"So he hasn't told you. Do you, by any miracle, have any clue of what a horcrux is?"

"A what?" Tom turned to face the window and took a few steps mentally cursing his enemy to every level of hell there is.

"Bloody hell Dumbledore, you're hiding all of this from your weapon? How in the blazes was he supposed to figure it out on his own?" He took a deep breath and turned back to Harry. "A horcrux is very dark magic. They are created by murdering someone. Murder creates a sort of sliver in the soul, and the witch or wizard has to...essentially grab onto the sliver and tear it from the rest of their soul. They then store it inside an object of their choosing. It is extremely painful and takes days to weeks to prepare and even longer to recuperate."

Harry's eyes widened. "But what does that have to do with my scar?"

"Harry, I should not be the one to tell you this. However," he held up a hand to stop the impending interruption, "it would seem you have been left in the dark for a very long time and so I will inform you myself.

"The night I killed you I was planning on creating another horcrux. My seventh one, to be exact. It happened to be the day that the rat came to tell me where your parents were hiding you. I came to kill you.

"I imagine you're aware all magical children can have random bursts of magic at a young age?" Harry nodded. "You had such a burst as I cast the curse at you. Your mother's magical core whipped out and surged to protect you and in doing so caused your magical core to throw up a fairly powerful protection charm. It deflected my curse back at me which ripped my soul from my body. In the process, a splinter of my soul was ripped free and went to the only thing practically smothered in magic-you."

Harry could feel his jaw on the floor.

"I'm...my scar is...you're inside me? How...but then...why wouldn't someone tell me?"

"Alas, this I do not know. I can only speculate. Although if past experiences are anything to go by, I imagine Dumbledore wanted you to slowly figure it out over the next few years. He was always a sucker for the long journeys of self-discovery, even at the cost of others. You would have been dead long before you even knew what you are." Harry shivered, holding himself once more.

Tom sat down on the dog cushion, pulling the younger wizard with him. He wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders, draping his robe over his body like a blanket.

"I only learned of this recently. I was digging around in my mind one day after the graveyard and found another link to a horcrux I didn't remember making. It wasn't until I traveled through the link to see through your eyes did I have any idea who you were, and even then it took more than once. That's when I sent you the journal. I knew the importance of what I was seeing. I didn't want you travelling down the same path I took. I lead a vicious life because of how I handled things when I was younger."

"So what, you wanted to be my friend because I have a part of your soul in me?"

"No Harry. That's not entirely true. Although I admit that is a part of it, I saw my past in your present. I wouldn't wish that on my greatest enemy, and wanted to offer my help in whatever way I could. And then I grew to like you. You have a certain...sass that I enjoy. No one has ever been brave enough to talk to me the way you do. I like it." He looked down at the wizard leaning on him, noting that he was quickly falling asleep.

"Come, you need rest. Lie down, that's it. I cannot leave my cloak for fear of what the muggles will accuse you of. But know this Harry, if nothing else. It's real. I care, and that's real." He reluctantly slithered out of the window and apparated home once he was safely outside of the house.