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Voldemort paced in the room, staring at the pile of books he had read the whole night, researching horcruxes. He knew everything about them that a man who created seven of them could know, but he had never imagined that he would have created an accidental horcrux. This accidental horcrux was currently lying in the room next door, still knocked out after the obliviate charm.

Dumbledore, the old fox, must have thought he was cunning to hide this fact from everyone that even his most loyal and competent spies weren't aware that Harry Potter, the boy who lived, had a piece of his soul inside him. The bastard was hoping he would kill his own soul and destroy part of himself.

Except he found out about this in time before the plan he had devised could be placed into motion. He trusted none of his followers to inform them that his archnemesis was a vessel for piece of his soul.

This complicated everything. He couldn't kill him anymore. He needed to retract his soul before he could get rid of Potter. Knowing Potter, he couldn't willingly come with him, so he decided not to complicate things and simply obliviated the young man and apparated to one of his hideouts. The house was perfect, lost in the middle of forest, away from prying eyes, it was the perfect place to experiment and find way to get his soul out of Potter.

He had to kill the stupid muggles living here, but getting rid of them was a pleasure and Nagini needed to eat something.

Since he didn't want any of his death eaters to know about this, he had Nagini watching Potter, while he was doing to research.

Now that he knew the truth, no wonder, his resurrection ritual didn't go as planned. His body didn't properly resurrect and he was stuck with his absolutely deformed face for months. Since Potter had his soul, his blood wasn't the perfect blood of the enemy. Thankfully, he managed to get Dumbledore's blood and revive his physical form properly.

Looking deformed made him more feared, but he always looked handsome, so getting his looks back was important. Though, he still planned to glamour himself and look like his serpentine form when he would visit his servants.

He smirked looking at himself in the mirror. He looked young and handsome which always helped him to get away with things. He decided to glamour himself and look like the bald, noseless form that Potter knew him as just to intimidate him, but before he could wave his wand, strange sounds stopped him.

"Oh, what's wrong?" he heard an agitated voice. "I am so sorry, baby."

It sounded like Potter. Except, it couldn't be, because if he woke up, he would not remember anything and would be scared having Nagini looming over him. Potter wouldn't even know that he had magic.

"Hey, don't pout," he heard Potter mumble a coo like he was talking to a child. Maybe his magic worked wrong on Potter, and he had gone insane instead of just forgetting everything.

The boy was always such a headache.

He walked towards the room, his wand drawn, in case Potter still had his memories and needed to be stupified.

Potter was making strange giggling sounds. The boy was insane. He definitely didn't damage him. His skills were immaculate, so there must have been something wrong with Potter.

He pushed the door open and stared at the sight in front of him.

Potter was on the bed with a little girl in his arms, gently stroking her head and murmuring some kind of comforting nonsense. Voldemort narrowed his eyes. The little girl was not a little girl. It was Nagini, under an expertly casted transfiguration spell.

Potter's eyes lifted up and Voldemort brought his wand up. Potter hadn't lost his memory. The defensive way he looked at him was a clear sign that he was wary of him.

"Oh," Harry Potter mumbled, his gaze softening as some kind of realization passed through his face. "I am so glad. I don't know what happened to me. I must have hit my head pretty hard and can't remember anything. I made our daughter cry. Hey, I am sorry sweetheart."

He petted girl-turned Nagini's head. It was unsettling to watch. Especially because he could tell Nagini was enjoying this.

"What?" he lowered his wand.

"I promise, I will remember everything," Potter hurried to reassure. "But could you perhaps remind me our names?"

"You are..." Voldemort narrowed his eyes. Potter could be lying. But the boy was too naïve and too gryffindor to play games. "Harry."

"Harry," he tried out his own name. "And our daughter?"

"Nagini," Voldemort said without thinking.

"That's a unique name," Potter said with a smile, planting a kiss on top of Nagini's head. "I bet I chose it."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow. Potter was arrogant even without his memories.

"You didn't tell me your name," Harry said, looking up at him. "I should know my husband's name."

Why would Potter think they were married? Then he remembered that he looked like his young self and had restored his youth and didn't glamour himself to look scary. Potter's arrogance knew no bounds. He assumed they were married because he looked so handsome. Who knew that Potter deep down had a thing for handsome men!

"Tom Riddle," Voldemort answered with a wince, not liking that he had to use his muggle name. But he needed Potter cooperative, so he could get his soul back.

"Tom," Harry smiled. "I like it."

A/N: Please let me know if you like the idea of this story and if you would like to see more of this and stories like this.