A Change of Heart

Chapter Thirteen

Harry woke up suddenly. He had a feeling he was not alone in the room. He half-rose and his hand had stretched out for his glasses when someone caught that hand. A warm hand covered his mouth.

"Shh... it's me."

And as the hand was removed from his mouth, and he was released, Harry sat gaping like a fish, not even able to ask what Voldemort was doing in his bedroom, kneeling by his bed.

In the moonlight, Voldemort looked pale and blurry. Tom Riddle had been pale too, thought Harry as took his glasses and put them on. The other wizard's face came into focus and he still looked pale. Harry picked up his wand and pointed it at Voldemort, breathing heavily.

"How are you?" Asked Voldemort, ignoring Harry's wand. His wand was not in his hands, Harry noticed.

Tom, thought Harry. Not Voldemort. But Tom Riddle had tried to kill him too.

"What are you doing here?" Harry finally found his voice, his hand was shaking a bit.

"I was worried about you."

Harry dropped his wand and wondered if he was losing his mind. For, a part of him had felt comforted as Tom said he was worried about him. But another part of him was warning him to be careful. This was Voldemort he was dealing with.

"You are not putting a spell on me, are you?"

Tom looked surprised. "No. Why do you say that?"

Harry shook his head, feeling stupidly relieved. "I... I just felt glad when you said you were worried about me."

Tom sucked in a breath. "You felt glad?" There was an odd note to his voice.

"Yea, pretty insane I guess," Harry was looking down at his wand. Harry could feel Tom's gaze on him.

"May be," said Tom as he stood up. "I should be leaving."

"You are leaving?" Harry raised his face to look at Tom, surprised. Why had Tom come?

"I came to see how you were doing. You seem alright."

"Okay," he bent his head again. He was alright. Or he would be, once Ron and Hermione replied to his letters.

Another thought struck him. "Are you stopping my letters?"

Tom looked bewildered. "Stopping your letters?"

Harry put his wand back on the side-table. "It was just a thought," he muttered. He could not explain to himself why he felt Tom was not lying.

Tom sat down on the bed. He took Harry's chin in his hand and lifted his face. Green eyes met brown. Harry was feeling breathless and frightened.

"Good night Harry," said Tom quietly as he bent down and kissed Harry on the forehead, right on his scar. Harry closed his eyes and when he opened them, he was alone in the room. Tom had disapparated silently.

Harry could feel his scar tingling as he took off his glasses and put them back on the side table. He lay back down and hugged his pillow close. He could not explain the goofy grin that was on his face.