AN. Harry Potter IS NOT MINE. JKR beat me to it!

Chapter 1 - The Grand Tent

The Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One. The Shepard of the light... They called me all that, and more. Parading me through their streets. And me being the fool I am, got caught up in it. Promised them that I would succeed, Promised her that I would return, stole hearts that weren't mine to steal, broke promises that weren't mine to break, and killed people that, frankly weren't meant to be killed. After all this time, I can't help but wonder...

When they look upon me now, do they see a monster?


He lay face down, listening to the sobbing. He was not alone. Somebody was crying and for the life of him the only one he could think of was Hermione. He wasn't completely sure where he was, maybe it was his funeral and Hermione was sobbing by his casket? No. That was too cruel. He dispelled the thought and like water flowing off a tile the sobbing faded. The silence was oddly comforting.

A long time later, or maybe no time at all, it occurred to him that he must exist, must be more than a disembodied thought, because he could feel his cheek pressed, on a cool surface. Therefore he must have a sense of touch, and the thing he was lying against existed too.

Almost as soon as he had reached this conclusion, Harry became conscious that he was naked. Oddly this didn't concern him, even though he could still hear the sobbing, it was muted as if he was listening from the wrong side of a closed door. But it did intrigue him, he wondered whether, as he could feel, he would be able to see. In opening them, he discovered that he had eyes.

He lay in a bright, turbulent mist, though it was not like any mist he had experienced before. His surroundings were being formed by a cloudy vapor that swirled and shifted a short ways off, as if it had met an invisible wall on the path of its flow. The floor on which he lay seemed to resemble marble, with an intricate pattern consisting of thin gold, silver, maroon, and green lines weaving itself from the wall of mist, trickling over the marble surface, as far as Harry could see.

He sat up. His body seemed unscathed. He touched his face. He was not wearing glasses anymore. His fingers dappled on his forehead. He had no scar.

Then the sobbing grew, as if the door had been thrown open. The person crying was dragging long deep breaths. Harry could almost feel their shoulders shuddering. It was a heartbreaking noise, yet also slightly provocative. He had the uncomfortable feeling that he was eavesdropping on something private, Intimate.

For the first time he wished he was clothed.

Barely had the wish formed in his head, than tendrils of the low hanging mist wrapped around him, covering everything below his jaw. It felt comfortably warm. When the mist dissipated shortly after, he was clothed In robes of deep green velvet. It was extraordinary how they had appeared , Just like that, the moment he had wanted them...

He stood up, looking around. The wall of mist seemed to have disappeared. Was he in some great room of requirement? The more he looked there was more to see. A huge canopy, that somehow seemed dark green and then the deepest maroon the moment later, stretched, high above him, as far as he could see. Well, at least until the swirling mist in the fringes of his vision swallowed it up. Perhaps it was a huge circus tent. All was hushed and still, except for those deep drawn-out sobs coming from somewhere close by in the mist...

Harry turned slowly on the spot, and his surroundings seemed to form themselves before his eyes. A wide open space , bright and clean, a hall larger by far than the Great Hall, with that, now maroon, canopy overhead. It was quite empty. he was the only person there, except for -

He started. A boy no older than him sat on his knees, crouched over the marble floor a few paces in front of him. He was robed in the same deep green as harry, and as his shoulders shuddered when he gasped for air Harry noticed a golden lion stitched on his loosed lapels. Inclining his head slightly, harry found a silver snake on his own.

He felt sorry for him. whoever this boy was. He was crying so hard that his breath now seemed ragged. He drew slowly nearer, ready to back off at any moment. Soon he stood in front of the boy. His hand outstretched and clasped the boy's shoulder as he would have Ron, to reassure him. The boy abruptly stopped sobbing. Sapping all noise from their shared domain. Harry could feel the boy's shoulder tense under his hand and he squeezed it comfortingly. The boy slowly raised his drooping head and locked eyes with harry.

Tom Riddle stared back at him.


AN. I really didn't want to stop here, but I'd just completed Mass Effect 3. Undergoing crippling depression because of the ending at the moment. Trying to watch something funny to feel better, but it just wont work :SIGH: but don't worry I'll have the next chapter up by Monday night