Chasing Harry

Chapter One: Alive

Harry Potter faced the stone gargoyle guarding Albus Dumbledore's office and uttered the password given earlier by Professor McGonagall.

"Blood lollipops." He wondered a little at this as he ascended the steps toward the door. Blood lollipops? Apparently, the Headmaster had morbid moments of his own. He pushed the door open.

"Ah, Harry..." Dumbledore adjusted his glasses. "I've been expecting you."

Sixteen-year-old Harry sat down in front of the wide oak desk, feeling a little apprehensive. He had a good reason to feel nervous. Dumbledore didn't usually summon him from his classes like this unless there was a serious problem that needed his attention. He squirmed in his seat as his eyes traveled around the room.

His gaze landed on Fawkes who was on one of his bad days. The poor phoenix was nearing his end again and the bird's glorious feathers were all gone now, scattered around his perch. Fawkes squawked a little when he saw Harry. In response, the Gryffindor gave his friend a wave and a sympathetic smile at his plight.

"Harry, a grave matter has come into my attention. I believe that you, as someone who had first hand experience with the person involved, have the right to know about this." Dumbledore peered at him through crescent glasses, the normally twinkling eyes clouded with worry.

Harry was a little taken aback by the news. What could possibly make Dumbledore this worried? Voldemort had been vanquished forever--killed simultaneously by the combined power of Harry and his friends, Hermione and Ron. Forming a triangle around the injured Dark Lord, they had muttered the words of the killing curse and brought an end to his year-long reign of terror over the wizarding world. This had occurred a few months ago and now, life was just returning to normal with witches and wizards trying to put the pieces of their lives together to start anew. No, it couldn't possibly be Voldemort.

"What is it? Is it serious?" Harry asked, quite worried too this time.

Dumbledore took a deep breath. "I suggest that you hold on tight to your chair while I tell you this. I, myself, took a while to absorb the reality after I had been told about it."

"Harry," Dumbledore started, "Voldemort is dead. You know that perfectly well since it was you who vanquished him."

The headmaster paused. Harry waited with baited breath for him to continue.

"The thing is," Dumbledore said, his tone a little hesitant, "it appears that Tom Riddle is alive and well."

"What! That's impossible!" Harry stood from the chair, shouting. "I killed him myself. No one, not even Voldemort, could possibly survive the killing spell delivered triply strong."

Dumbledore held up his hand. "I didn't say that Voldemort survived. Tom Riddle did." He motioned for Harry to sit down once more. "Do you recognize the difference?"

Harry plopped on the stuffed chair heavily. His head was whirling with confusion. "Headmaster, I'm afraid you'll have to explain."

Dumbledore sighed. "Very well. Just remember to keep an open mind through this. Do you remember the opening of the chamber in your second year, and Tom Riddle's diary? You do? Good. Well, it turned out that when you pierced the book with the basilisk fang, it did not completely destroy the preserved memory of sixteen year-old Tom Riddle. The magic Voldemort used was much too powerful for it to simply end like that. At that moment, Tom Riddle's spirit escaped from the diary and rejoined the person of Voldemort, alive at that time."

"So, you mean, he melded into Voldemort? Aren't they the same person?" Harry's brow was still furrowed in confusion.

"Well, yes, but not exactly. The sixteen year-old memory did not have the same evil that the Voldemort of that time had. They were, at that moment, two entirely different people, separated by fifty years of living and experience. In consequence, Tom Riddle became a sort of subconscious thought--imprisoned inside Voldemort's mind and having no real body or power of his own. Having been separate from Voldemort in spirit, he wasn't destroyed when you killed the Dark Lord. In contrast, you set him free. He has emerged once again into our world as a human with his own body, young, alone, and confused. He had been wandering around Ireland for weeks before the Order was finally able to learn of his existence."

Dumbledore chuckled with the memory. "It had happened quite by accident. Remus Lupin had been on one of his travels around European forests when he stumbled on the young man who was, at the time, quite incoherent with fright. The moon was full that night. Luckily, Remus had taken some Wolfsbane, but poor Tom didn't know that, so Remus had to chase him around 'til morning. He didn't dare lose track of Tom Riddle."

Harry sat in silence for a few minutes, digesting the information. Tom Riddle was alive. It was as if Voldemort was here once again.

"Where is he now?" he asked Dumbledore after a while.

"He's here, Harry. Here in Hogwarts."

Harry gasped in denial. The monster was here in the school?

Dumbledore quickly explained, seeing the boy's panicked reaction. "You don't have to worry. He's quite harmless. The young Tom Riddle is very much different from the Dark Lord that you killed. In fact, he's doing better now. He had been painfully thin and depressed when we found him. He was hiding and trying to survive in the forest on his own. He's happier now and is quite content with the peace and quiet. Due to obvious reasons, the Order has maintained that we must hide his existence from the world until an appropriate time comes, when the world is ready to accept him as he is."

"And now is appropriate?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"I understand your reluctance regarding the matter. After all, your experiences with Voldemort have been more traumatic than the normal wizard or witch but, Harry," Dumbledore sighed, "Tom is only a child. He's just your age, still inexperienced and in his way, innocent of the world. He deserves to have a normal life, away from the dark life his other incarnation had been forced to lead. It's the start of the school year and he has to join your year as a normal student. The three years spent as an observer in Voldemort's head had horrified him and permanently steered him away from the dark path. The Order has confirmed his turnaround and is willing to accept him into the ranks of humanity once more after fifty years in that musty book."

"Why are you telling me this?" Harry stared at Dumbledore, unable to fathom why the Headmaster was informing him of Tom Riddle's existence in advance. Why didn't he wait for Harry to find out with the rest of the school when Tom Riddle finally attends his classes?

"I told you because I believe that you would understand, that you are mature and kind enough to accept the truth." Dumbledore met Harry's stare. "Tom's acceptance into this world and time won't be easy. There are wounds that would take a long time to heal and not all people are as understanding as you or your friends. Harry, Tom needs a friend who would help him, guide him this year and the next, someone who is willing to accept him as he is, not as Voldemort."

"And you believe that I am this person?"

Dumbledore nodded, smiling a little for Harry's benefit. Harry thought of the irony. Voldemort had been his mortal enemy, and now he was supposed to be his friend. He sighed. Of course he understood. There really was nothing he could do otherwise.

"When will I meet him?" Harry inquired, resigned to his fate.

Dumbledore beamed. "Right away. I've already sent for him earlier. I believe he is now on his way to my office."

Harry grinned wryly. "You read me like a book."

"I am not the Headmaster for nothing." Dumbledore chuckled.

At that instant, the door opened, revealing a sixteen year-old boy, tall, dark-haired, and green-eyed. He stood there before Harry and Dumbledore, clearly nervous about the meeting.

"Hello," he greeted them quietly, meeting Harry's eyes.

Harry stood, drinking the sight of his former enemy. The events of what happened in the Chamber of Secrets were still sharp in his mind. Tom Riddle was the one he had battled there, not Voldemort. He should be more wary. Still, if Dumbledore said that he'd changed, then Harry was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Hi." Harry held out his hand. "Nice to see you again."

"Harry." Tom acknowledged him and they shook. "You've grown."

"So I have. It's been three years." Harry gave him a small smile. "You haven't changed at all."

Tom chuckled. "It's hard to age when you're not even alive." He looked down and surveyed his own teenager's body. "But I'm human now. I assume I'll grow old just like everyone else."

"Now boys," Dumbledore interrupted, "I have arranged for a room for you, Tom. I know that you've been sorted into Slytherin but you are not living in any of the dorms. You shall be staying in quarters of your own, quite near Gryffindor tower so you could be closer to Harry. During mealtimes, you shall sit with the Slytherins. This will give you an opportunity to get to know the people in your own house as well. Now, for your room: from the main hallway of the third floor, turn right at the first bend. The eleventh door to the right is the room. The password is 'mumblemumps.' I trust that you shall be able to find your way."

"I'll accompany you," Harry offered. Tom nodded, smiling a bit, and the two boys exited the office.

His eyebrows furrowing once more, Dumbledore looked at the empty space where they had stood moments ago. It will take a lot of heart for Tom to live normally again, if he ever does.

***

Harry walked alongside Tom in silence as they made their way to his private quarters. Each boy was lost in his own thoughts: Harry of the past, and Tom of the future. Both were more than a little anxious in each other's company, considering the disturbing history they shared.

"Here it is." They stopped in front of a large door. "Mumblemumps." Tom touched the door, feeling the grain of the wood brush against his skin as it opened.

"Wow!" Harry exclaimed, "This isn't a room, it's a suite."

"Yes. It's...quite large."

Tom looked around. The door opened to a roomy sitting room with its own fireplace furnished with comfortable-looking overstuffed chairs. Tom walked to another door leading to the bedroom. This was almost the size of the sitting room and had a large four-poster against one wall. There was a big window near the bed hung with forest green drapes. They were drawn open to let the sunshine in. Tom felt a little apprehensive as he observed the place. He wasn't sure if he deserved all these.

"Hey, you have a bathtub that easily fits three!" Harry walked out form the bathroom he had inspected. "I wonder if it has the same perks as the prefects' bathroom. You know, with all the bubbly scented stuff they have there."

"Harry," Tom interrupted, "I'm not sure about this."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

Tom slowly turned towards him. "I mean all these..." He swept his arms around, indicating the room and all it contained.

"I don't think I deserve all these...nice things." He sighed, bringing his arms down. "I'll ask the Headmaster to have me relocated to another room."

"Tom, don't be ridiculous." Harry gripped his arm. "You don't have to punish yourself for anything."

"Don't I?" Tom lifted his head and met the green eyes so much like his own. "I don't even deserve to live."

"Don't think that way," Harry admonished softly. "You should be happy to be given another chance. Not many people get that in one lifetime. You could live life the right way, the way you want it to be. Don't think of the past."

They exchanged a tentative smile.

"You're right, Harry," Tom declared, "I've been given another shot at this. I won't blow it this time."

"That's the spirit!" Harry clapped his back laughing. Feeling much more comfortable with each other, the two boys headed out to the sitting room.

"So..." Harry stopped at the door. "I'll see you later after dinner. I'll introduce you to Hermione and Ron."

"I'll be there." Tom smiled. "Oh, and Harry--"

"Yes?" About to leave, Harry looked back once more.

"I never apologized before. I'm sorry now. I really am." Tom was unmistakably sincere. The green eyes flashed, unsure. Tom's smile wavered.

Harry held his gaze and smiled back. "It's okay. It doesn't matter now."

With one last wave, Harry disappeared into the corridor, shutting the door behind him. Breathing deeply and feeling a lot lighter, Tom surveyed his quarters. It really was a lovely suite. He supposed he should make himself at home.

He sat in front of the fire, thinking of Harry. They weren't friends yet. But who knows? He hadn't had a friend in a long time.

"Friends?" Tom whispered to the air. "It's not impossible."

The only answer he received was the crackling of the flames as he stared into their depths.

-TBC-