Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
"Harry, that's completely insane! You can't possibly imagine to hold your own against You-Know-Who's ability to get what he wants! It simply can't be done!"
"I just don't see why I can't do it, Hermione. You've got to admit, it's a brilliant plan."
"Brilliant doesn't necessarily mean you'll succeed-Harry, he'll kill you before you even realize what's happened! He can read minds, or did you not know that? He'll be able to see right through you no matter how well you practice or whatever it is you plan to do." Hermione paused and a look of dawning crept over her face as she watched Harry's sheepish expression.
"You weren't even planning on practicing?! How dare you! You and I both know that even you aren't that stupid!"
"So if he can read minds there must be a way to prevent someone from reading your thoughts." That seemed to give Hermione pause.
"There's a few books in the library. I'll get them for you when I'm there next." She seemed less put out with him, but that could be because he actually wanted to learn how to keep Voldemort from reading his mind.
"Occlumency is incredibly hard to learn on your own so we're learning together." Harry obliged and tossed her a book from the pile he was working on. The one he was reading was just explaining theory and barely touched on the practical application for actually blocking someone from getting into your head. Nonetheless, it was interesting and made Harry think that if he actually tried to understand how magic works he might just have an easier time in class.
The two studied late into the night most nights of the week. Even the seventh years were going to bed before them. The two studied relentlessly, and by the end of their fourth year had managed to devour all the books the library had to offer on the subject twice over. The next step for them to take was to start meditating and exploring their own minds.
Harry had tried to put this off for as long as possible, but even Hermione was getting fed up with all the reading they were doing. She felt it was time for them to move on to meditation, and that's just what they did.
It didn't take long at all for Hermione to get her mind in order the way the books described, but that same method wasn't working for Harry. Not only did he not want to think of his mind as a giant filing room, he was having a particularly hard time sorting out one particular part of his mind that just always seemed to be a bit darker and less willing to be organized than the rest.
Putting that part off as a bad job, he swore to Hermione that he'd spend the entire summer meditating and getting his thoughts sorted out so they can move on when the next school year started. Even though his idea of infiltrating Voldemort's side wasn't her idea and definitely wasn't up to her standards, she was treating it like it was her idea. Harry appreciated her and all the efforts she was putting forward-even if she didn't like why he was learning Occlumency in the first place.
The trip back to London was the same as usual-Ron complaining about not knowing if Harry would be able to come for the end of the summer like he usually did, Hermione complaining about a lack of wizarding books to study whilst staying with her parents and Harry poking fun at the both of them. He did pass Ron Hedwig's cage as they pulled into the station, telling him that Hedwig was on her way to the Burrow and would stay with them for the summer. Errol could use some time off and she wasn't going to get the space she needed at the Dursley's.
The Dursley's were late to pick him up-so late, in fact, that the workers at the station had all asked him if he was okay. It wasn't until after dark that a female employee approached him and gave him some fish and chips before asking if his family was going to show or if they might have just abandoned him.
"No, I'm fairly certain they've simply forgotten. Or they're doing it from spite. Either way, they'll be here before the sun comes up. I just don't know when specifically." She left it at that, but promised to keep an eye on him and his things until his family came to get him just to be on the safe side.
The Dursley's did arrive about two hours before dawn giving them time enough to get home and get Harry into their house without letting the neighbors know they had even left. Harry, not one to argue with the likes of his aunt and uncle, simply let them rush him into the house. What he did not expect was for them to shove his trunk into the cupboard under the stairs, only to toss him in with it and lock the door from the outside.
Looking around at the dusty interior filled with old cobwebs, Harry sighed and gazed at his trunk. At least they didn't separate him from his school things.
Somehow, he'd managed to move his trunk so it was nestled at the furthest end of the small space he had. A flimsy blanket covered the rest to keep it hidden so the Dursley's wouldn't see it. His hope was that it was out of sight, and therefore, out of mind.
He was pleasantly surprised when the door opened that afternoon and he was allowed out to use the restroom and eat dinner-even if it was stale bread and cheese with a glass of tepid water. It was more than they'd ever willingly given him before. When Petunia heard Vernon's car pull onto their street, she hurried Harry back into the cramped space. He could hear her rushing back to the kitchen to fill the sink with water, likely so Vernon wouldn't be aware that Harry had eaten.
While Harry was crammed in his little space, he spent his time meditating and trying to put his thoughts in order. It wasn't easy; in fact, it was almost impossible were it not for the lack of anything else to do and Hermione's wrath upon finding out he didn't do the one thing he needed to do over the summer.
So he meditated.
And meditated.
And meditated.
And eventually, he finally decided everything was well organized except for that tiny little place in the back of his mind that didn't want him there. He meditated and eventually he forced his way into the little space of blackness.
How surprised he was when he walked through a curtain of black only to be in a study of emerald green velvets and gold filigree. A young Tom Riddle sat in a rather plush looking armchair, looking up from a book only to stare at him.
"So, you've decided to brave my little haven? What can I do for you?" Harry went to reach for his wand, only to realize this was all technically in his head. Tom chuckled.
"You can't hurt me while I reside here. I'm a horcrux, being hurt isn't something horcruxes do." Another chair to match Tom's appeared and Harry gingerly sat down.
"What the hell are you doing in my head?"
"Subtle as ever, I see. The night I went to murder your parents I had planned to make a horcrux. What I didn't foresee was you rebounding the killing curse back at myself. Thus, a horcrux was created in part. With nowhere left for my soul piece to go, it sought out the strongest magical thing near it-you."
"Right. What's a horcrux, exactly?" Tom rolled his eyes and sighed before snapping his book shut and pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Surely the one with enough power to vanquish a dark lord at the mere age of one doesn't know what a bloody horcru-" He stopped talking as he saw the blank expression on Harry's face.
"Oh for fucks sake. A horcrux is a piece of someone's soul that is housed in another object-any object-which ties that soul to this earth, thereby rendering death a useless endeavor. You cannot die if you have a horcrux."
"Wait, but you didn't look like this when you killed my parents."
"Ah yes, I was wondering when you'd arrive to that part. The beauty of creating horcruxes-apparently-is that upon reabsorbing the horcruxes into one, they will take on the form of the younger horcrux. I was sixteen when I created my first horcrux; therefore, I will look sixteen." Harry's mind was reeling. Tom Riddle created horcruxes to stay alive forever-how was he ever going to kill Voldemort?
"Wait, you made more than one? I feel like splitting your soul is a bit painful, why go through that twice?"
"Oh, it's terribly painful. I was under the impression that death was something to fear; however, I know better now that there are worse things. Floating amongst the walking as a mere wraith was much worse than I imagined death to be."
"But you said you're the Tom Riddle from when you first made horcruxes, how could you possibly know that?"
"Do they not teach you anything in that blasted school anymore? Soul magic is one of the oldest magics in existence-every other school teaches it! Nevermind-that's a different subject for another day. Soul magic is the theory behind how souls work. The theory, that I can now prove, is that when a soul is split or separated, each piece will feel strong emotions from the other-even over distances. Even I am not stupid enough to think that I imaged all the pain and suffering and loneliness that the main portion of my soul felt. I felt the pain every time I created a new horcrux and I felt the suffering that occured whilst my counterpart was wandering as a wraith. It has not been exactly fun."
Harry's brain had stopped when Tom mentioned that other schools taught different forms of magic. Did Hogwarts really not offer as many subjects as other schools? He had thought that Hogwarts was the greatest school of all time but...come to think of it he'd never heard of soul magic. Or any other types of magic at all. He knew nonverbal spells were a thing but you didn't start learning that until your sixth year-and even then, most people had trouble with it.
"Are there other types of magic as well?" Harry leaned in, eager to know more. It wasn't like Tom was about to attack him in his own mind, and he was curious. Hermione would have a field day with this information.
"Yes, there is. There's soul magic, the kind of magic that so intricately ties people together that there's simply no avoiding them. There's love magic, that's incredibly powerful if you have enough love for the person you're doing it for. And there's blood magic, fueled by our very essence that keeps us alive. It's all very powerful and very dangerous if you don't know what you're doing. And soulmates have their own magic that's unique to them."
"Wait, soulmates are real? I thought that was just a children's dream, a way to romanticize obsession." Tom outright laughed at him.
"Absolutely not! They're very real and they're very special. When one finds their soulmate they should grab on and never let go. People have been known to go crazy in pursuit of their soulmate."
"Does everyone have them?" Tom laughed again.
"To an extent. Not everyone has a romantic soulmate-that's simply the way it goes. If your soul is independent enough, it will decide to remain on it's own. But everyone has at least one soulmate in the way of friendship. Ever notice how some friends, no matter how badly they might fight, always manage to work it out? And how some students only ever seem to really date one person and they end up married for life with plenty of children?" Harry's jaw dropped.
He had noticed that very same thing happen between him and Ron-the two fought not just last year over something Harry had no control over and yet they managed to work it out over very few words. Months of avoiding each other and glares sent from down the table had been resolved with a handful of words each. And there were some couples in Hogwarts that were rarely seen apart. They hardly fought and always seemed down when they weren't around each other. Hermione and Ron were like that.
"How do you know if you have a soulmate?" He needed to know if there was any hope for him finding someone that wouldn't love him for the fame he brought. He didn't want to spend forever looking for someone if they simply didn't exist for him.
"You'll sometimes feel random bursts of emotion that don't really seem to come from you. Usually they're not that strong. For example, if you're taking a shower and suddenly feel a slight echo of happiness for no reason. There's really no reason for you to be overly happy whilst shampooing your hair, but there it was. And just as fast as it comes, it's gone again. But even if you don't have a soulmate, that doesn't mean you can't have relationships. It just means you won't have that same level of understanding of each other. Back in my day, people used to use blood magic with soul magic to tie their souls together. It creates a bond between two souls so even if there are fights, they can usually come to understand each other better through it. It was used a lot during arranged marriages to make the transition from strangers to spouses easier. It also cut down on abusive relationships, although that was less of a concern than divorce was at the time."
By the time Harry was wrenched out of his meditation by his aunt coming to let him eat supper, Harry was fully convinced he was seeing a different side to Tom Riddle-a side that rarely, if ever, was shown to anyone. He ate with a small smile on his face and couldn't even bring himself to be afraid of his uncle's footsteps pounding the floor outside his cupboard as he walked by.