Eileen Morris: thank you!

hpg1775: I can see that, death is a very touchy subject for a lot of people. Voldemort is the definition of a character terrorised by death, and the message extracted from that is that we, mortals as we are, have to come to terms with the fact that our time on Earth is quite limited. Though that doesn't mean what we have to limit ourselves. In fact it means we should see what the world has to offer before our time runs out.

Roxasstorm: indeed, it's not a concept other people have used. Honestly, I don't think I've ever seen a fic that has any character apart from Harry using the stone. Which is a miss for me. Harry wasn't born to become Master of Death or something.

skotos: hey again. Yeah, that story is a masterpiece, though I wish it was updated more often. Tamelyn in that story is one of my favorite fanfic characters ever, no joke

There was a soft breeze as Lady Voldemort walked outside the shack to the back garden, brushing her hair around her face. Nothing grew here apart from grass. No flowers, trees... the place barely had space for one tree, after all. It had a small fence that was broken in some places. Perhaps the act of an animal. The place was surrounded by a lot of wilderness, after all.

Harry Potter stood with his back turned and hands on top of the fence. But he heard her approaching and turned to face the Dark Lady. His green eyes cast down upon her with... less discomfort. She didn't know how much he had heard, if he had heard at all... but his expression was calmer. His features didn't harden as much just by the sight of her. There was less hatred to be detected.

"Hello." She felt awkward, not knowing quite what to say. He had been right. In many points. To imagine the Resurrection Stone could have worked like that... what could she think? What was she supposed to take from that?

The shade of Merope had told her that if she didn't understand it already, she would soon. The Dark Lady wasn't sure she completely got it. Maybe at least she wasn't out of the loop.

"I won't ask who you saw." Potter started, looking at her weirdly. "But I can only imagine, judging by your face, that it wasn't for nothing."

"No, it was not." Voldemort stepped closer. He didn't move an inch. "I... I think I understand... maybe..."

"Do you understand that it isn't something you should run away from?"

She shrugged. "I suppose. I can... accept it. I don't like it-"

"No one does, Tam." The way he talked to her was a lot less hostile now. "It's not that we worship death. But the world is made up like that. You can prolong life, sure. Take the Philosopher's Stone, for example."

"I've heard of it." She had, after a study in alchemy that Voldemort had dismissed... what, seven or eight years ago? That crimson piece of jewellery that allegedly produced a liquid that could extend one's life indefinitely and be used to extract pure gold from it. Life and riches.

"It doesn't make Flamel immortal," Harry said. "It can't prevent him from being killed by even the smallest things. He can still be hurt, maimed, or whatever. He's not invincible. In my world, the stone was destroyed."

She eyed him curiously. "I imagine you had something to do with it?"

"It was your fault." He answered, a bit of the previous bitterness returning. "You were trying to get the stone so you could be resurrected. The whole ordeal was weird. I think Dumbledore set me up to... be a hero, I guess. He returned me my cloak. It had been with him for a few years since my dad gave it to him... and I faced off against you for the first time. You told me how you were even less than a ghost. After I dealt with you, the stone was gone. And Flamel died just last year in my world, along with his wife."

The Dark Lady pondered his words for a few more seconds, though her attention was turned towards what he said about how he confronted Tom Riddle...

"How did you face me if I was reduced to so little? More importantly, how did you beat me?"

"I didn't beat you, not really. I was eleven." Potter smirked at her shock. "You possessed our Defence teacher that year. He wasn't a Death Eater, funnily enough-"

"Death Eater?" Voldemort had to interrupt him again. "You mean a Knight of Walpurgis?"

"Your lackeys went through a rebrand just before the war really took off." Potter explained. She couldn't find herself at the present moment choosing a name like Death Eater for her followers. It seemed so... too , even. "Anyway, since my mum sacrificed herself and created a protection with blood magic, you couldn't physically touch me. Not even in that form."

"Oh. I've never heard of such magic." That much was true. For all her years of research around the globe, she hadn't ever heard of even a tale of protective blood magic, able to prevent even physical contact from threats. It sounded extremely powerful.

"Neither did Dumbledore, funnily enough. I imagine all he found out about it was from after it happened." Potter chuckled. "When I touched your vessel, his skin burned. I passed out from the pain of being close to you that was always present because of the Horcrux... but I know he died. All this made you commit your greatest blunder a few years after when you returned. How I was bound to Earth as long as you lived because of you using my blood, just so you could nullify the protection."

"I see." That was truly disheartening information, Voldemort thought. It was just so overwhelming. To know she tampered with magic barely known, just to be defeated by even more obscure forms of witchcraft. "That pain you felt... is it gone now?"

"After you destroyed the Horcrux, yeah. It is. As is my Parseltongue. I've spoke it ever since I was a kid. That was because of your soul piece."

"You mean that you inherited abilities?"

"That's almost how Dumbledore said it the first time I asked him that. The night you killed my parents, you transferred some powers. I think he suspected it to be Horcruxes, but he couldn't have known. And you can imagine how it would mess up a child to know that. Though I wish he would have grown out of it."

"What do you mean?" Voldemort had to ask, seeing as his tone turned just slightly bitter at the end. This supposed hero who vanquished her, having issues with Dumbledore? That was not what she expected. Maybe this wasn't a yes-man of the headmaster, after all.

"Nothing." Harry answered quite quickly. "My mum's protection doesn't extend to you, it seems. Maybe it expired when he died or something. But I already touched your skin and nothing happened."

She didn't need to be reminded of the previous night. Having been completely taken by surprise was shameful enough for the Dark Lady. "You were saying?"

"Yeah, sorry." Potter forced an apologetic smile. "Horcruxes aren't like the stone. They make you go against nature itself. Beings shouldn't exist in that state you were in."

"But wouldn't Horcruxes existing make it natural?" Voldemort didn't want to start an academic debate, but she felt like the question was necessary. "I wasn't the one to first create a Horcrux, and I will certainly not be the last."

Potter diverted his eyes away from her, instead staring at the wilderness in front of them. It was a cloudy day, but Voldemort could spot the sight of a few birds in trees. Eventually, he spoke again. "When you destroyed the Horcrux in my body... You did so thinking you were killing me."

"Yes."

"That meant you used the Killing Curse. But something weird happened."

"What is it?" She couldn't help but find herself getting curious simply from the way he was talking now.

"This is not something I've told anyone." Potter said. "Not even my closest friends. But I guess there's no better person. I woke up in a different place. It was all blindingly white, and it looked like King's Cross."

"That's... why?"

"I'll get there," Harry promised. "Then, Dumbledore showed up."

It took her a few moments to realise why that would be important. "He... he was already dead, I assume."

The Unspeakable nodded. "We had a weird talk. But we weren't exactly alone. There was... hell, I don't even know what it was. I wanted to help it... But I couldn't even look at it without my stomach swirling. It looked like a baby... but it was all maimed. The face was identical to that of Tom."

Lady Voldemort was a smart woman. She could quickly put the pieces together on what it meant, and the realisation made her face go pale. "You believe that was the Horcrux?"

"What else could it be?" Harry finally looked back at her. His green eyes were in a foggy state. "I don't even know if that happened... I asked Dumbledore if it was happening inside my head, and he said it was, but that didn't mean it wasn't real."

She found the strength to chuckle incredulously. "I don't think an illusion or even hallucination would replicate a saying like that. I am inclined to believe you were... at a crossroad, most likely."

Potter nodded. "He told me that if I boarded a train, it would take me on. I had the choice. And I chose to go back."

"Just because you felt like you needed to stop him?"

"I wouldn't ever be selfish like that," Harry said. "I couldn't move on without bringing justice. After so many people died... it was the bare minimum. But I don't think your soul was able to move on. I don't know if there's a Heaven or Hell, but I think it was just stuck."

"Because of the Horcruxes?" Tam asked, dreading his answer.

"Maybe. I don't know how symbolic showing remorse really is. Dumbledore said killing maims the soul. Perhaps it was because of how cruel you were until the last moment."

"Then what do I do?" She couldn't even tell if the question was directed at him or herself. She was so confused... her world had turned upside down. Now, she was tempted to believe things she never conceived to be true. "If severing my soul can cause it to simply remain in a limbo, then what hope is there for me?"

"It's... I don't have a clear answer, Tam." Harry sighed. "Honestly, this is as fucked up to me as it is to you."

"What do you mean?" Voldemort asked, puzzled.

"You were the worst human being I've ever met." He spoke. "There are few people who are close to your level. Fenrir Greyback, but he is barely human, Bellatrix Lestrange-"

"I beg your pardon. Bellatrix... You mean Bellatrix Black?"

"Oh, yeah, you visited her yesterday." Harry shook his head. "Well, yeah, she is insane. Or will become. I don't know for certain. But there aren't many people as bad as you were. I should have just killed you like you said. It would spare the world a lot of pain. But that's not what I went back to do."

"Because of your mission." Voldemort guessed, crossing her arms.

"Because I gave you a chance even after you killed so many." Harry fidgeted the fence. "I looked you in the eye and told you that you should show remorse. In a way, that was your last chance, and you didn't take it. We were meant to fight before I was even born, but I at least wanted a simple end. To be back with you, who hasn't committed half the atrocities he did... and who, against all my expectations, is listening to what I'm saying... I don't know what to think, to be honest."

That was... enlightening. Was enlightening the right word to use here? The Dark Lady was simply lost. This was so, so much... Harry Potter's retellings spoke of the loss of purpose. She was halfway into becoming something that barely resembled a human. Her horcruxes were already made, but this Tom Riddle... he went a step further. Harry Potter spoke like he killed thousands. Maybe he did. And fate tied this Unspeakable to her male counterpart in ways that she wasn't even aware were possible.

"So, what am I to do?" It almost felt like her knees would buckle under the pressure of having to say those words. She felt so weak... with all her power, knowledge of magic, intellect... what fate had reserved for her were decades fighting a teenager. She had planned to soon begin more aggressive operations if Dumbledore refused to hire her. That had been his thought process until returning to her hotel room in London. But everything was now flipped. "I do not want to commit acts of cruelty for the sake of it, Harry Potter. If I developed sadism later, I have yet to harness that aspect of me. What is the point?"

"I wish Tom had thought like that in the later years." Potter chuckled humourlessly. "People say dark magic can corrupt you. And not just the Killing Curse. You saw how much you like to splatter the Cruciatus around, cursing anyone who ever wronged you, and above all those who didn't. Yeah, sure, it probably didn't happen in one night, but it kept getting worse. I'll ask you like I don't know who you are or became. Is this what you want?"

No... it probably wasn't what she wanted. Especially because it would destroy everything she tried to accomplish. More than ten years would be wasted as a meaningless spirit, while the rest of Tom Riddle's life would be spent on an ultimately unsuccessful conflict where he was bested by a teenager. The proof was standing in front of her.

Fate wouldn't allow her to win like that.

But was there another way to win?

"I repeat my question, Harry Potter. What can I do? Repenting for my sins? I can't imagine you are a religious man."

"I'm not." Potter proclaimed. "But I learned that people are more complicated than they seem. This has been like thermal shock. Do you think I expected you to be even remotely human? I definitely expected you to hex me first, ask questions later, but not what came after. I thought I'd have to extract the answers from you by force."

"Would you be willing to do that?"

"Yes." He didn't miss a beat in answering. "Not now, since you've been so kind as to avoid violence. But fine, answering your question... I don't know. Not really. I never thought you'd see reason. Maybe it's being a woman or something. Maybe your ego isn't as big as Tom's. But don't blame I never thought I'd get to this part."

From everything he told her, Voldemort couldn't blame the man as much as she wanted to. Her mixed feelings were a shock even to her. Because she didn't want to fail. As much as she believed in magical superiority, her conflict had been planned to get rid of Dumbledore, especially, along with any potential allies of his. Ruling was not something she wanted. She'd leave the government to the families, to do as they pleased. They could call her Lady; they could serve her... but what was the point of sitting behind a desk and rubber-stamping legislation?

No, she desired to hold true power. The secrets to life itself. Voldemort wanted to understand the fabric of reality. Why was the world built like this? If it could be done, she wanted to manipulate the world itself. Change it to what her heart desired. Stretch the limits of the impossible with magic. Her immortality helped because then she would have infinite time to achieve such goals.

But finding out in a matter of hours that she'd instead start believing the pureblood idiocy she had always despised? Her existence was proof that blood didn't matter. She was the greatest witch of her time, with a very Muggle father. She had more than one reason not to associate herself with the name of that man. Not only that, but she would abdicate care for herself and fall victim to the whims of fate.

What good was her immortality if it could be stripped so easily by an adolescent boy?

"Are you certain about what you said about souls? How you saw his soul so mangled it couldn't move on?" Voldemort finally asked after some time.

"Of course not. Merlin, it might not even have happened. Maybe that second killing curse sent my brain into a delirious state." Potter clenched the fence. "It's a theory. The best I could come up with to explain what I saw."

"You really destroyed my Horcruxes?"

The man shifted uncomfortably. "Most, no. I destroyed the diary. Dumbledore destroyed the ring, some friends of mine destroyed the cup and the locket... the diadem was destroyed in a Fiendfyre cast in the final battle of the war... You destroyed the one in me, of course." He smiled at that. "And there was another too. Another friend of mine destroyed it."

"Eight pieces?" Her plan had always been to create six horcruxes. In total, seven pieces of her soul, the most powerful magical number. "Why did I create another?"

Potter answered with a shrug. "Maybe you didn't want to consider the one in my body to be a proper one. Maybe you didn't quite realise it yet when you made the seventh horcrux. In the end, you chose a snake to harbour your soul piece."

"A snake?" Voldemort echoed, dumbfounded. One living being possessing her soul was one thing, but two? "How could I-"

"It wasn't a normal snake." Potter clarified if it would make things easier to understand. "I'm pretty sure it was sentient. It was comparable to an anaconda in size, but still venomous. It was the last one needed to make you mortal again."

This was simply too much. It almost felt like her head would explode from such throbbing. She'd need a yearly dose of pain-killer potions. "I have no reason or strength to doubt what you have said to me."

"I have no reason to lie." He answered. "Everything I said couldn't be closer to the truth. No point in changing anything. What do you intend to do now?"

An awfully painful thought crossed her mind at that moment. "At the present moment... I'd like you to know that I don't plan on conquering the world."

Harry tilted his head. "Okay?"

"That means," Voldemort said impatiently. "That you told me how much my actual goals are meaningless if that is my destiny. Sure, your world is different from mine. But prophecies could be repeated. And if I continue this path... what will be left of me apart from that husk?" The Dark Lady took a deep breath and let out the air through a sigh. "My horcruxes. They were meant to prolong my life. Make it possible for me to learn the secrets I wanted to unravel. Against anything that should kill me. I did not take it too seriously when I read there were consequences for the creation of these artefacts-"

"Because you didn't think you'd die to face them." Harry completed, forcing her to nod.

"Yes. But if they are to arrive despite my desires... I wish not to be on the worse end of a punishment..."

"Fear isn't ideal as a way to improve..." Potter said. "But it's a start. Hell, there might be hope for you."

"Forfeiting my horcruxes..." Even the words made Voldemort wince in discomfort. That would sever her immortality for good, making her just as mortal as the man standing in front of her. But if that was the fate that awaited her... There could always be the possibility of fighting fate, but that usually ended worse for those who tried. "I do not know how much it would be repenting..."

"It's a start." Potter declared, looking over to her. "But I have to admit I am almost confused that you just believed all you saw."

"Would you rather have me doubting you, Harry Potter?" The Dark Lady snarled, regaining some of her strength through anger. Her patience was on the brink, and her fury was aggravated by his refusal to even flinch at her words. He simply wasn't afraid of her. That was a first.

Or second, to be more precise.

"I didn't say that." Potter pointed out. "But I'm just confused. I would have expected you to think I'm fooling you. Or that," He nodded towards the shack. "The stone was an illusion."

"Illusions are usually either flattering or deadly. Sometimes both. What sort of illusion says what you don't want to hear?"

For a moment, Potter stared at her, seemingly dumbfounded, which warranted a raised eyebrow, confused as to why he suddenly stopped. "Sorry. I suppose I just never imagined wisdom coming out of the mouth of a Riddle."

"I became Head Girl for a reason, Potter." She knew how much Dumbledore didn't want her to take her position, but every other professor voted so she would. After all, being such a magical prodigy and the one who seemingly revealed the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets, she became very popular among the staff of Hogwarts.

"I almost forgot you were supposed to be smart." He answered. "For all the time I fought you, it was just irrational decisions coupled with insanity and sadism. Yet I kept hearing how much you charmed and persuaded the Death Eaters to join you. At the end, the only reason you even had followers was because they were too afraid of you."

"I am smart." Voldemort eyed him with contempt. Really, what had her male self done? The entire purpose of their mission was to enlarge themselves and their abilities. Not use her followers as spell practice dummies. "And I am wise enough to recognise true words. Perhaps with less evidence, I would have been more sceptical if you hadn't been... convincing. Bringing us here, knowing about the true nature of the stone-"

"I wouldn't have come unprepared." Despite his words of reassurance, there was a flicker of mischief that briefly crossed his eyes. "But I didn't plan on convincing you to do anything. I'd probably just blackmail you into giving any information I asked."

"Cunning. What house were you sorted into again?"

For some reason, that drew a smile out of Potter. "Like I said, Gryffindor through and through. Though the Sorting Hat did consider your house."

Voldemort hummed, briefly indulging in this moment of casual conversation. "I am still not sure of what to do. If I destroy my horcruxes-"

"I can't tell if it means salvation," Potter said. "But... it might be a step towards it. Hell, I don't know what's beyond Earth, but there's something. I'm not religious or anything, but I believe there is a line between what can make a soul suffer for eternity."

"I was raised Christian." The words left her mouth before she even accounted for them. "I stopped believing when I was shown Hogwarts. When I was shown magic. When I was shown, I could evade Hell."

"But wasn't Heaven a preferable option?"

"At the time, it was not." Voldemort chuckled. "I would rather... live forever. Find myself thriving on this planet rather than a hypothetical paradise. There was no room for another god, Potter."

"That might have been the eeriest thing I have heard." The Unspeakable said with an unbelieving chuckle. "So, where are your Horcruxes exactly?"

"You got most of them right," Voldemort told him, remembering the almost accurate list from the night before. "The diadem is in Hogwarts. The diary is hidden in my Gringotts vault."

"Funny that I never realised you ought to have one." Potter mused. "Go on."

What sort of wizard wouldn't possess a vault? Even if she were a wanted criminal in the future, the goblins would most certainly not care for that. Those beings usually didn't care about those prosecuted or accused under human magical law. "The cup is also in my vault. The locket is in the cave you somehow know the existence of. And the ring-"

"Here." Potter swirled the ring across his fingers. She – with his secondary wand pointed to her head – had disabled the lesser protective curses, but the one that would unleash a deadly curse that would wither whoever put the ring on their finger was very much active. As was the compulsion charm, designed to trick a person into wearing the ring. But Harry Potter seemed to be unaffected by the charm. "We can either destroy them one by one... or we can gather them to put an end to it."

"And would you be willing to assist with such a task?" Voldemort inquired. "More than once, you have said all you were required to do while here was... study me. Yet you are adhering to the idea of interfering with another universe?"

"You wouldn't know, Tam, but I, with the help of a truly brilliant mind, was the one who invented dimension slash time travel." The raven-haired man smiled. "So, there aren't regulations or limits on what I can do. Besides, I'd be doing this world a favour. The department couldn't find fault in that."

Despite herself, that was a compelling argument. That was, of course, if she chose to believe he was the one who created the means to be now tormenting her. But what reason did he have to lie? There was enough evidence at this point that Harry Potter spoke nothing but the truth. And that was exactly why he was so unsufferable.

"Fine." Voldemort conceded, sighing heavily. "Where first?"

"Gringotts, of course." Potter decided, but then he drew his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the shack. "Incendio!' He bellowed, and in a matter of seconds, the last Gaunt residence was set aflame. The Dark Lady almost remarked out loud that the stone was still inside...

But it almost sounded like the shade of Merope was whispering to her that it would take more than fire to destroy that artefact. She also remembered the Pensieve was inside the now-burning shack, but Voldemort knew it could also withstand burning. And... to be honest, it wasn't so bad to see this place turning into ashes.

"Shall we go?" Potter extended his arm, meaning to side-apparate with her. Humiliation on top of humiliation. Without a word, she took his arm, and the world vanished around them as they travelled to Diagon Alley once more.