Seven Times Forsaken

by Gideon Moriattis

What if all you had to do to be reincarnated was to take someone's hand? Tom Riddle Jr., years after his death, is reincarnated into his nine year-old body. However, every memory of his previous life has vanished alongside the alias of Lord Voldemort. How will he be affected by a world where the man he had been is both a monster and a memory?

2. Prologue

What if you had the chance start again?

After years of darkness, the blind man saw. He opened his eyes and saw- but he wasn't sure he liked it. Seven faces stared back at him; each a different age, but each his own. He turned slowly, examining each in turn, feeling a painful twinge within his chest with every met gaze. His eyes lingered on the last, the eldest, and a hand went involuntarily to his own face, tracing contours identical to those of the one before him. There was more feeling in him now than he could ever remember there being, and while he felt no remorse, he could not his grotesque fascination with the event unfolding.

"Is this what I'd become?"

His voice. He could hear it, but couldn't feel himself speaking the words, though his lips- he was sure- had moved. There was no vibration in his throat to assure him that he had spoken aloud.

What if you had the chance to start again?

This he heard as clearly as if he himself were speaking again. The lips of the figure before him moved, but the sound moved through the air without a source.

"What do you mean?"

Again the feeling of speaking without a voice.

What if you could do it all over?

He thought back on his life... and his death.

What if all you had to do was make a choice?

This time the lips of the oldest figure did not move. The voice was eerily familiar; a voice he knew at once, but had not heard for decades. The man turned, looking to see which of his selves had spoken. None would meet his eyes, except... once he had turned in a full circle, the eldest and youngest of his selves parted, and another stepped into the space. The speaker looked at the man he would grow to be calmly, and spoke again, the words this time unmistakably coming from his mouth.

"What if all you had to do was take my hand?"

He knew the cost. He knew the risk. He knew he had no way to be sure of the outcome. And... he knew the lure was too great to resist; to be able to cheat again as he had so many times before, and in doing so gain the opportunity to do so again, and again, and again.

He took the hand of his nine year-old self.