Don't Mess With The Chosen One....

28

It was Sunday, and Harry had just finished telling Ron and Hermione about his lesson with Dumbledore.

"I've decided that I'm going to help Voldemort." Harry concluded.

"You can't be serious!" Hermione gasped.

"No, I'm his godson."

Hermione rolled her eyes, while Ron laughed.

"Voldemort wants to kill you, Harry. It's a terrible idea!" Hermione said. "Ron, tell him I'm right!"

"I don't know Hermione," Ron said, scratching his nose. "Maybe Harry's doing the right thing here."

"But it's Voldemort! How can you help him?! Harry, he killed your parents!"

"I'm aware of that, Hermione." Harry said calmly. "I can't explain it, alright. I just feel like I can get through to him. I think I may be the only one...."

Hermione sighed. "Just for the record, I hate this idea. How can we help?"

Harry smiled. "I need to talk to him. Let him know exactly what happened fifteen years ago, and what Dumbledore is planning."

"You could send your memories to him. And I guess send a letter." Hermione offered.

"Why don't you just access his mind?" Ron asked. "You never closed the connection, right?"

"Yes."

"So do that! It's safer than risking your mail being checked." Ron said.

"You're a genius, Ron!" Harry said.

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That night, while his dorm-mates were sleeping, Harry closed his eyes and focused on Voldemort. He wasn't really sure how to access their connection. All of last year, it had been accidental. And then there'd been that time over Christmas....

Harry rolled out of bed, and tiptoed out of his dormitory, down to the Common Room. He sat on the floor in front of the hearth. Harry stared into the roaring flames, the heat they gave off warming his face.

'Is it really that strange that I want to help you, Tom? Is it wrong? I know you've done terrible things, and I'm not going to forget or even forgive you for stealing my parents from me. But at the same time, I saw what you were like, before. You were lost. Alone. Maybe, had someone given you a chance, then things would have turned out differently.'

Harry pulled his knees to his chest, and rested his chin on them.

"Harry..." A voice whispered in his mind.

The orange flames vanished and were replaced by a snake lying on a black blanket at the end of a bed. Long, white fingers were twirling a wand.

"Tom." Harry breathed.

Voldemort grimaced. "Do not use that name!"

"But why? It's not a terrible name, you know. I think it suits you."

"It's a common name. A muggle name." Voldemort spat out the words.

"Harry is common too...."

Voldemort massaged his temple. "Why are you in my head, Potter?"

Harry blinked. "I- Oh, right. Er... I wanted to talk to you, To- Riddle."

"What about?"

"It's complicated." Harry told him. "It's easier if I just show you... But first, I wanted to thank you for helping me. With my uncle."

Voldemort tightened his grip on his wand. "Yes.... You're welcome."

Voldemort was quiet for a moment. "What did you want to show me?"

Harry remembered what he'd seen in the Pensieve, and it played out in his mind.

Harry could feel Voldemort's anger, his scar burning from it.

'To think that that fool had been able to Imperio me to kill her!' Voldemort thought. 'Why would I have even continued going after Harry when he was an infant?! And then the fool made Harry suffer for years....!'

Voldemort could not explain why he felt (could it be pity?) for Harry. But it didn't matter. What mattered was that he suddenly felt like he needed to protect the younger wizard.

"I want to kill Dumbledore." Harry told Voldemort. "I have for the last two years. And I also want to help you, Riddle."

"I don't need any help." Voldemort snapped.

"I know about your Horcruxes, Riddle. And so does Dumbledore. He wants to destroy them, and then kill you. I want to make your soul whole again. You could be just as powerful as you are, but without the risk of being unstable. What do you say, Tom?"

Voldemort rubbed his chin, as he thought it over. "You are an interesting wizard, Harry Potter. I accept your proposal. Which Horcruxes does Dumbledore know about?"

"The cup and the locket. Your diary and ring are gone."

Harry clapped his hands to his scar, as Voldemort let out an angry hiss.

In Parsletongue, Voldemort shouted: "~/~ How dare he destroy them! Why is he always ruining my life?! He's going to pay!~/~"

"~/~ Yeah, yeah! Think you can calm down now?!~/~" Harry asked through his pain.

Voldemort took a few breaths. He was now petting Nagini.

"So he doesn't know where the others are?" Voldemort asked.

"No." Harry said. "He's still looking."

"I will help you, Harry. Soon, Dumbledore will be out of our lives forever."

"Thanks Tom." Harry yawned.

He dragged himself back to bed.

"~/~ Sleep well Harry.... ~/~" Voldemort said softly.

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