A/N Again I am sorry the updates are coming slowly, it's harder than I imagined getting this story down on paper. My goal is to have another two chapters up before the end of the month, even if I have to lock myself to the computer! Thanks to all who are reading and commenting, it helps motivate me!


"Am I dead?" The question flew from Tom's mouth as he sat next to Ainsleigh on the bench. He watched as the joy in her eyes slipped away.

"Ainsleigh, I NEED to know. Am I dead?" Panic had filled his voice. Death had been his greatest fear, the one thing he had hoped to avoid at all cost. She sighed as she responded.

"If you are asking if your curse backfired, if Harry Potter was indeed the master of the elder wand, then yes Tom, you are dead. You are dead mostly."

"Mostly? How can someone be mostly dead?" Confusion and a little anger tainted his voice.

"What you need to understand Tom, is that in your quest for immortality, you crossed lines. You delved into magic that few, if any, before you have dared to try. Because of that, because of the terrible damage done to your soul, you cannot move on like many others do. You are here, not quite living, yet not quite dead."

"So there is hope then? I mastered death after all?" Elation filling every word. Ainsleigh shook her head.

"No Tom, you have not mastered death. You have simply postponed it for a short time. To move on, there are certain things that must be done. Things that must be set right."

"Things? What things? And why are you here? What do you have to do with this?"

"I am the reason you are no longer in torment. The reason you have this chance-"

"Chance to do what exactly?"

"A chance to atone."

"Atone? Atone for what?"

"For the crimes you committed against your soul. It will all make sense in time. Speaking of time-" Her gaze settled on something just behind him.

"It's time Tom."

"Time? Time for what? I don't…" His voice slowly trailed off as a small black book materialized to the left of where he and Ainsleigh were standing. It was suspended midair as if held up by very fine wires, and as it slowly rotated he could just make out the gold lettering on the back. Tom Marvolo Riddle.

"It…can't be." His voice filled with wonder as he slowly moved toward the diary, his hand outstretched. He stopped, and turned toward Ainsleigh, his eyes accusing.

"Why is this here? What are you playing at?"

"You must take it Tom. It's the only way for us to move forward." She moved to stand next to him and the diary.

"And if I don't?" He questioned, his voice devoid of emotion.

"You will return to the state in which I found you. Take it Tom, I cannot tell you what is to come, I can only assure you that nothing but unending agony awaits you if you don't. Make your choice."

"Choice? Do I really have a choice?"

"There is ALWAYS a choice." Tom turned away from her and looked again at the diary. It seemed innocent enough, but he knew all to well how looks could be deceiving- especially with this particular book. He couldn't say when the decision was made, he could only watch helplessly as his hand plucked the diary from the air. He felt a tug in his stomach curiously similar to the sensation of grabbing a portkey, then everything went black.


"Where are we?"

"You tell me." Tom looked at his surroundings. Everything was enshrouded in a haze, the details obscured. He could just make out a large mirror just above a row of chipped sinks. As he continued to study the room, it became clearer. He saw a row of stalls lining the walls. The doors were slightly dingy, the paint just beginning to peel.

"The girl's lavatory, second floor, Hogwart's."

"Really? How fascinating!" Ainsleigh replied as she looked around. Tom took a few steps forward, his eyes on a sink at the far end. When he was standing in front of it, his hand reached out to caress a small snake carved into the side of the tap.

"This is the…" His voice trailed off as he glanced at her.

"Yes?"

"Never mind." He looked back at the sink.

"Why are we here?"

"You tell me." Before he could respond, the sound of weeping filled the room. He turned toward the stall behind him.

"Who's there?" His voiced echoed of the walls, but the crying didn't stop.

"Answer me!"

"She can't hear you." Tom continued to look at the door of the stall, his expression filling with confusion.

"Why not?"

"We aren't really here. This is merely the shadow, an echo if you will, of an event."

"The echo..?" His voice died as he shot one last look at the stall and moved back to where Ainsleigh stood.

"We have to leave. We need to go before-"

"Before what Tom?"

"I don't want you to see this! We have to go NOW!" He was beginning to panic.

"We cannot leave, not until it is complete. Then we may move on."

"Till what is complete? Move on to what?!" His panic was rising, his voice echoing loudly over the crying of the girl in the far stall. He grabbed her arm, wanting to run away from what he knew was coming.

"You can't run away Tom." She said sadly.

"The past will always find a way to catch up with you. You chose this'"

"I didn't know what I was choosing! I never wanted you to see this!" He continued to tug on her arm in vain.

"Tom, it's too late." Even as he tried to deny her words, defeat washed over him. He saw the door slowly opening. He watched in horror as his teenage self strode purposefully into the room and made his way to the far sink, pausing only to throw a glance at the stall that held the still weeping girl.

"Open." The younger Tom commanded as his older counterpart sank to his knees refusing to meet the revulsion he knew had to be in her eyes. She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder as a giant serpent emerged from the chamber that had opened beneath the sink. They watched as a girl wearing glasses, her eyes red and puffy from crying, angrily opened the door.

"Kill." The serpent turned to the girl who upon meeting it's gaze, fell to the floor dead.


The pain that exploded through his body was consuming in it's rage. It moved through him as if alive, seeming to rip his insides to shreds. A star-burst of agony speared behind his eyes, blinding him to everything around him. He retched violently, repeatedly as wave after wave rushed through him. The blood in his veins seemed to be boiling, as if eager to escape the confines of his body. In his terror, he began ruthlessly clawing at his face, his arms, his legs, any part of his body he could reach trying to relieve the unbearable pressure he felt building within. He was distantly aware of Ainsleigh screaming for him to stop, the horror of his pain terrifying. His screams echoed throughout the room as he cried out-

"You lied to me! All lies! I hate you!" He knew he wouldn't survive this. Ainsleigh had brought him here. She had released him from one agony only to bring him to another, greater one. She had lied to him, and he would never forgive the deception. He was too far gone to see the tears streaming down her face. He didn't see her anguish as she tried to keep him from ripping himself apart. He was too absorbed in his torment to see the blinding light surrounding the two of him, or the brilliant piece of soul leaving her and entering his body.