A/N: Hah, fooled you all with a super quick update! As a note, I got a review that mentioned how I didn't seem to like Ron... that's not true. I do like him. It's just, for the purposes of this story, I couldn't see him being the same person he was in the original story. He's still loyal (just to other things) and courageous and a great strategizer, which is all things you'll hear about in the coming chapters. And as for the whole H/R thing, I just don't see it working without Harry there as a buffer. I know Ron hasn't been mentioned much, but he does play a part later on... so don't worry too much, okay?

Warning: this chapter includes some mild torture.

Pain, darting across his skin and through his muscles and boiling his blood, was what jerked him out of a heavy sleep. There was no in between, just a straight jump from unconsciousness to awareness of a horrible curse that he'd had previous experience with. It was every bit as painful this time around as it had been before, and Harry squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he was still unconscious, as he writhed on the floor, fingers clawing at the ground in hopes of finding some reprieve from the agony. Distantly, he heard himself screaming, and beyond that, the sound of some familiar, insane laughter.

"Poor little Potter cub," Bellatrix cooed, ending the spell with a twist of her wand. "Does that hurt?"

Harry tried to breathe deeply through lungs that didn't want to work properly as his body continued to spasm before finally falling limp. He didn't know how long he had been there, trapped in the small cell – it could have been minutes, hours, or days – but Bellatrix was enjoying every second. She had mercilessly tortured him until he passed out at least half a dozen times already, mostly with the use of the Cruciatus curse, but occasionally, she got inventive. His right arm was broken, and his whole body was covered with dark bruises and about two dozen small but deep knife wounds.

"Stupid... bitch..." he rasped out finally, cursing himself for ever turning his back on her. Like an idiot, he had assumed that he was safe as long as Remus and Sirius were around, even though he had been taught - and should have known - better.

"Is that the best you've got?" she asked, looking delighted. "Don't tell me I've broken you already."

"It... would... take a lot more... than anything... you've got," he retorted.

Bellatrix's eyes flashed and she smirked. "I think I'll take that bet." She lifted her wand and made a simple slashing movement. Harry cried out as a cut formed on his shoulder, exactly where she'd hit him before during the Diagon Alley fight. "You're so fun to play with. I almost hate the thought of taking you to my lord. I really can't understand how a little boy like you is really such a big concern." Twice, her wand twitched, this time opening up slashes across his lower belly and upper thighs. "He should leave you to me. This is nothing, little Potter. I could have you screaming for real in no time. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

"Go to hell," Harry whispered, wincing when his throat, which ached from hours of screaming, protested the words.

"I should say that's where you're headed," she said. "Get up. It's time for your meeting with my lord."

At first, Harry refused to move, just because he couldn't. The simple act of gathering enough energy to actually get off the floor of the cell seemed to be too much to ask of his exhausted body, and his muscles just trembled weakly when he attempted to follow her order. But Bellatrix wielded her wand threateningly and opened up another few cuts in his back before she threatened to cast the Cruciatus curse again. That got him going, sore muscles or no. After a couple of attempts, he managed to roll over, where he somehow found the strength to slowly push himself to his feet. Harry grimaced as the movement re-opened a few of the older cuts on his chest and arms that had clotted. Blood seeped down his chest and back, staining what remained of the shirt he was wearing, and he winced. If he lost too much blood, he wouldn't even get a chance to escape.

"Come on, boy, get a move on," Bellatrix ordered. Her mouth contorted in a cruel smile. "Unless you'd like me to give you some extra persuasion."

Harry ignored her and walked past as stoically as he could. He hated to show pain to someone like Bellatrix, because the evil witch got off on it. Even now, she practically purred in delight when she caught sight of the blood that had soaked into his shirt. She stayed right on his heels as he walked down the hall, and every once in a while her wand would give him a sharp jab in the back, usually right over one of the cuts. It was hard to bite back his yelps when every jab brought forth a fresh burst of white-hot pain.

"In there, Potter." She pointed to the door at the end of the hall and used her wand as an extra 'incentive'. Harry stumbled forward into the room and fell to his knees. He heard Bellatrix laughing as she slammed the door behind him and cast several complex locking charms. There was no way he'd be getting free through that door, especially without a wand.

"Good evening, Mr Potter," a smooth, familiar voice said.

"Riddle," Harry spat, rising to his feet immediately, even though it caused more than just a twinge of pain to do so. He glared at the man seated comfortably in front of the fire. Tom Riddle, wearing nothing more than a dressing robe, was relaxing in a huge, plush chair and had his feet up on an ottoman. A small green snake was coiled in his lap. His left hand gently stroked the snake, and he held a wine glass of thick, red liquid in his right.

"Such a lack of manners." Tom clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Please, do have a seat. We have much to discuss."

Actually sitting down with the evil man was the last thing Harry wanted to do, but his bruised and cut legs were beginning to tremble and he knew it wouldn't be long before they gave out on him. Reluctantly, he crossed the room and sat down on the bright red chair across from Riddle. On the table in front of him, there was a tall glass of what appeared to be water, and beside it, two different vials of potions. One was a light blue, the other a dark violet. He didn't recognize either one.

"Have a drink."

"Not on your life," Harry said, glaring at the man. "I'm not that stupid."

Tom smirked. "I assure you that the water is not poisoned and that the potions would make you feel better... The blue one is a healing potion, and the purple one is pain relief. I do so like my opponents to offer me a challenge before I kill them. But if you wish to suffer, that is your own choice."

"Yeah right. As though I would trust anything you said." He hadn't been a fantastic potions student, but there were some potions like veritaserum which he could never forget – and it just so happened that veritaserum was colorless and odorless, making it easy to slip into something like a glass of water. No matter how dry his throat was, he wouldn't have sipped from that glass for anything.

"I have given you no reason not to," said Tom, his blue eyes wide with innocence.

"Why am I here?" he asked warily, choosing not to respond to that remark.

"I'm going to kill you, of course," Tom said, smiling faintly. "That was the thing I was warned about the most, after all. That there was a prophecy and you would be my downfall." He paused, studying the boy across from him. "Of course, I hardly see how a child like you could ever be a challenge for someone like me, but if killing you means that nothing can stand in my way, then it's hardly a trial for me to do so. I'll even let you choose the way you'd like to die."

"Wait... you were warned? By who?" Harry leaned forward as much as he could before his back muscles seized up.

"I suppose you're very curious about why the world has changed so much. Since you're going to die, it doesn't really matter if you know. It's not as though you can do anything about it." He took a long sip from the wine glass and swirled the liquid around inside before he spoke again. "Have you ever heard of a Horcrux, Potter?"

"No."

Tom nodded. "I didn't think so. It's not exactly on the light curriculum. It took a great deal of research and many hours of torturing before I had gathered the information I required, back when I was a boy your age. To put it simply in terms you'll understand, a Horcrux is created when you split off a piece of your soul and seal it into another object. It's a way of living forever. A way to cheat death. You can't die as long as you have a Horcrux in this world, tying you here."

Harry's green eyes widened, and he felt sick. Was this why Voldemort had returned so often? "You..."

"Relax. That was my original plan, before my older self showed up in my bedroom," Tom told him, seemingly amused by Harry's reaction. "It seems that he had gotten a hold of some aetas arenae and decided to make a few changes. Apparently, he came from a time when a teenager was making his life a living hell and thwarting all of his attempts for world domination." He shot a disdainful look at Harry. "You can only imagine my surprise when I was told that some child was going to be my downfall. My initial instinct was to believe that he was an imposter, but much of what he said... Well, let's just say he convinced me that he was speaking the truth. We exchanged some very relevant information before the effects of time travel caught up with him and he disintegrated right in front of me." Tom sighed. "Apparently not even the great Lord Voldemort is impervious to the damage excessive time travel can do, even without the use of a Time Turner."

So Hermione and Draco had been right after all. The two of them really did make an excellent research team. Harry mentally filed that information away, knowing that it would be important when he got back to Dumbledore, and said, "So you changed your plans. You didn't make any Horcruxes after all."

Tom gave him a slow smile. "Let's not go that far, my boy. It's none of your business whether I created Horcruxes or not. Most of what Voldemort told me was in reference to you, a prophecy, and your parents, as well as the half life that awaited me if I continued along my path. He cautioned me against openly attacking the wizarding world and urged me to make my rise behind the scenes, so that when I made my move, I would be able to overwhelm the world and end the fight before it really began. That is why I have spent so much of my time rising through Ministry politics and becoming a teacher at Hogwarts." He chuckled. "That fool, Dumbledore... He never trusted me once while I was in school, yet he made the mistake of giving me a position there. I suppose he felt it better to keep an eye on me, not that it will do him any good."

"Dumbledore was right not to trust you," Harry snapped, anger flashing through him when Tom openly mocked his mentor. "You might think that he has no idea of where you're up to, but you've never been able to pull the wool over his eyes, and I doubt that's going to start any time soon."

"If you could see the plans I've already put into effect, you wouldn't be saying that, boy. Not that you'll be around to see most of it happen, since you'll be dead by then." From within the sleeve of his robe, Tom drew forth a long, slender wand. It was the same yew wand that Lord Voldemort had wielded. Harry felt a chill run down his spine when he saw it, and he missed his beloved holly and phoenix feather wand more than ever. His mind spun, trying to think of a way to divert the man.

"Why do I even remember?" he blurted out, finally getting to what had been bothering him all along. If this was true, and it actually sounded like it might be, then there was no reason that he should recall the real world. It didn't even exist anymore. He looked into Tom's blue eyes and kept his mind blank, deliberately not thinking about Ginny. If Tom didn't know about her, he couldn't kill her.

"You weren't supposed to. That is all the fault of my foolish older self," Tom hissed, his eyes flashing crimson. "Instead of attacking your family that Halloween night, I cast a trip jinx that would put you out of my way for good in such a way that no one would have cause to suspect me. Much to my disgust, it turned out that you had survived, and that the old fool was going to use the Imago Universitas spell on you." His fingers clenched around the wine glass and he hissed, much like a snake would. "You and Voldemort shared a connection, boy. He had touched you with a part of his soul. I was unaware of this. When he died, I knew of a spell that would absorb what remained of his soul. Everything he had done... everything I would have done... I remembered it all. Only then did I learn aboutt he connection, but it was too late. My soul and his had already blended together, and enabled me to create a Horcrux without losing any fundamental part of me."

"That's..." Harry just stared at him. He wasn't sure what was more chilling, that Tom had actually absorbed Lord Voldemort's soul, or the fact that the man had a Horcrux after all. "Does that mean... I have a connection to you now?" The fear and disgust in his voice was obvious.

"A meagre one." Tom waved his hand as though it was of no importance. "After all, I wasn't the one who tried to kill you that night. However, that connection is what enabled you to remember everything even when everyone else forgot." A frown touched his handsome face. "If I had never absorbed Voldemort's soul, he would have disappeared, and you would have forgotten it all as well... I could have arranged for you to die in a battle. But I knew that would not work when you fought back in Diagon Alley. Foolish Gryfinndors, always having to go down fighting." He shooed the snake off of his lap and stood up, walking over to the fireplace. With a flick of his wand, he summoned more wine to his glass.

Harry sat behind him, stunned and trying to understand everything that had just been dumped onto him. The fact that he had a connection to Voldemort was nothing new; his fifth year had given him ample demonstrations of that. But if that connection was really the reason he remembered everything, that meant Ginny must have had one, too, and no one had even realized it. He supposed that on some level, it made sense. Tom Riddle had been a part of Voldemort's soul, and he'd fed off Ginny's life force in the Chamber. When her life force was returned, it must have still held some taint of Voldemort... He shuddered at the thought. Knowing that he had a connection to Voldemort was disturbing enough, but strong, beautiful Ginny? That was a new level of creepy.

But... thank god that Ginny had known and remembered. As much as he hated to know that she had been touched by Voldemort's soul, that connection had actually turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Harry would have completely disregarded the other world at first if it hadn't been for Ginny, who had been the one to insist that something wasn't right. Tom would have had a much easier time killing him if he hadn't been so prepared, and then his plans would have succeeded. Harry made a mental note to kiss Ginny senseless in thanks if... when he found a way back to her.

And at least Riddle didn't seem to be aware of the connection. Even though he had absorbed Voldemort's soul, he hadn't mentioned the diary or Ginny at all. Perhaps he didn't know about the connection, which would give Harry a leg up on him. A large part of Tom's plan seemed to revolve around the light side not being prepared for him to attack. He eyed the man, knowing that Ginny would have already been a target if Tom knew about it. And not to mention, he didn't know about Draco or Hermione, either. Harry crossed his fingers, hoping that his friends would have the sense to go to Dumbledore and get help. In the meantime, he would have to be extremely careful not to let on that there were other people capable of creating distrust against Tom Riddle.

"I don't understand," he said finally, as though the thought had just occured to him. "If you want to kill me so much, why didn't you just do it at Hogwarts? I was unconscious there for over ten years and as a professor, you had every access. It would have been easy."

"You were more protected at Hogwarts when you were unconscious than you were awake," Tom said in a bored voice. "Under the eye of Dumbledore and your parents and that nurse... you were never alone. I could have easily gotten them out of the way, of course, but I was unprepared for the battle that might arise with Dumbledore. I knew that I would be his first suspect. No, it was safer to bide my time. Even when I realized that you remembered the way everything had been, I didn't bother to strike. I knew it would be easy to kidnap you and make your death slow." He scoffed. "You Gryffindors are always entirely too trusting."

"If we're really so trusting, than you wouldn't be so afraid of Dumbledore," Harry said with a smirk.

"I fear no one!" Tom hissed, turning away from the fireplace and brandishing his wand. His blue eyes had gone entirely crimson with rage. "You grow too comfortable for your own good, boy."

Harry gazed at the wand for a minute before he raised his eyes to meet Tom's. If Tom Riddle had one weakness, it was how easy it was to infuriate the man and make him loose control. This would hurt, but at least his friends and family would be far away from Riddle's mind. "What was that about wanting opponents who could face you?" he asked with a cocky smirk. "At least in the graveyard, Voldemort had the guts to give me back my wand and allow me to face him in a real duel. You keep saying that he was the foolish one, but as far as I can see, you're the one who is a coward."

Crimson eyes glowed with fury, and then Riddle's wand was moving in a pattern that was starting to be familiar. Harry closed his eyes failed to hold back his scream of pain as the curse struck him again. Bellatrix might have been good at it, but Tom Riddle was a master. He fell sideways out of the chair as the curse was lifted, gasping for breath. His body trembled with exhertion. The dark wizard hovered over him, giving him a kick in the ribs that forced his body to roll over.

"I will kill you slowly and painfully, Potter," Tom Riddle said, smiling broadly. "And no one can help you now."

"Fuck... you..." Harry whispered, feeling his body going limp. His vision darkened as Riddle kicked him again and then turned away, no doubt summoning someone – probably Bellatrix – to return Harry to his cell. He reluctantly allowed sleep to overcome him, all the while hoping desperately that Ginny had gotten help.

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