Harry can't remember anything of the past few months. Death eaters everywhere are still out for her blood, and her only chance at surviving rests in the two strange boys that saved her life for some obscure reason. She knows that she cant trust Tom Riddle or Regulus Black. But the lack of viable options lures her into accepting their help anyway and spiraling into a world of discoveries that make her question if, perhaps, she was better off not remembering at all.

"I suggest you leave, before I lose complete control of my hormones and perhaps lose my mind over you." "And what if I don't leave, Tom?" she said, with a smirk forming at the corner of her lips. "Then I'll rather do something, that will make you scream my name."

Rose Davies was no ordinary teenager, even though she felt like she was invisible. As Rose entered her fifth year of Hogwarts, she drew the attraction of Tom Riddle. Tom could sense strong, powerful magic inside of Rose. He was instantly drawn to it and was determined to learn more about her. Rose was instantly entranced by Tom and no matter how hard she tried, she could not pull herself away from him. It was if there was a magnetic force that pulled them together. Tom soon uncovers secrets about Rose that changes her life forever. He divulges his dark secrets to Rose as he begins to trust her. Rose knows that there is darkness and evil inside of Tom, but she is destined to save him. Ultimately, Rose needs to try and save Tom from himself, or she has to watch the boy she has fallen in love with turn into a horrible monster. **I do not own J.K. Rowling's characters, story lines, or Hogwarts. This story is strictly a product from my own imagination.** Rankings: 4/6/2021 - #1 in Seer 4/6/2021 - #1 in 1943

ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ᴏꜰ ʜᴏɢᴡᴀʀᴛꜱ, ᴀ ɢɪʀʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ꜰʀᴀᴄᴛᴜʀᴇᴅ ʟᴇɢᴀᴄʏ ʜɪᴅᴇꜱ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʜᴇʀ ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪᴛʏ-ꜱʜᴇ ʜɪᴅᴇꜱ ʜᴇʀ ʙɪʀᴛʜʀɪɢʜᴛ. ʟɪɴᴏʀᴀ ᴘɪᴇʀᴄᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ᴍᴀɴ ᴡʜᴏ ꜱʜᴀᴘᴇᴅ ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ɪɴ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰɪʀᴇ, ᴡᴀʟᴋꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪɴᴇ ʟɪɴᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴄʏ, ʜᴇʀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇᴀɢᴇ ᴏʙꜱᴄᴜʀᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴏᴡɴ. ᴅʀᴀᴡɴ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ'ꜱ ɪɴɴᴇʀ ᴄɪʀᴄʟᴇ, ʟɪɴᴏʀᴀ ꜰɪɴᴅꜱ ʜᴇʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ꜱᴜʀʀᴏᴜɴᴅᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴀᴍʙɪᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴄᴜɴɴɪɴɢ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀ, ʜᴇʀ ꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ'ꜱ ʟᴇꜱꜱᴏɴꜱ ᴇᴄʜᴏɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴍɪɴᴅ. ᴀꜱ ꜱʜᴇ ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴀʟʟᴜʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ'ꜱ ᴘʟᴀɴꜱ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴜʟʟ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ʟᴏʏᴀʟᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰʀᴇᴇᴅᴏᴍ ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛᴇɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴜɴʀᴀᴠᴇʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʟʟꜱ ꜱʜᴇ'ꜱ ʙᴜɪʟᴛ. ʜᴇʀ ᴘᴀᴛʜ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴀʟ ɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴇᴇᴘᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴅᴇᴄᴇɪᴛ, ᴀʟʟɪᴀɴᴄᴇꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴ ᴜɴᴅᴇɴɪᴀʙʟᴇ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏ ᴅᴇꜱᴛɪɴᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴅᴀʀᴋɴᴇꜱꜱ. ⊷⊶⊷⊷⊶⊷《 ✮ 》⊷⊶⊷⊷⊶⊷ Tom Riddle x OC

War. They had dragged her into it, wrapped her in prophecy, and painted her as some messiah with a target on her back, all to clean up their mess. She was supposed to fight their battles, die their hero, and leave the world tidily saved. But Alexandrina Potter didn't give a damn about anyone's savior fantasies anymore. It should have ended. She did her duty, paid in scars and losses, and tried to make her peace. Yet here she was, tossed back nearly three decades by a smugly amused Lord Death, dumped into the year 1958 with a son she'd kept hidden from the world and a blood-adopted daughter who carried a legacy darker than any shadow she'd ever faced. Thomas Alexander Potter, three years old, bright-eyed, her heart's calm anchor. And Delphini Lilith Potter, fierce, sharp, and bound to her not by fate but by Alexandrina's own stubborn defiance of it. They were hers, and damn it, that meant something. Her goals were simple, if slightly ambitious: avoid meddling wizards, rewrite the future, and raise her children without the looming threat of war breathing down their necks. Shouldn't be too hard, right? She'd already defeated one megalomaniac. What was a little time travel, a few impossible odds, and the chance of crossing paths with Tom Riddle when he was still just a snake-eyed schoolboy with delusions of grandeur? Life had given her a second chance-no more, no less. And she was bloody well going to use it. Most Impressive Ranking #1 enemiestolovers out of 117K stories

Harry died at the age of 157. After he had killed voldemort he was thrown away from everyone he thought loved him. They had betrayed him after the hard work was done. he had been cast away to forever rot in Azkaban until he died. He had turned quiet through those long years. planning. seething. waiting for his time of revenge. he spent his time locked up seeking knowledge from the depths of his magic. traveling the world in a lasting coma, where he was not awake nor asleep. when he was 150 he escaped Azkaban and tracked down each and every one of the people who betrayed him. he killed them all, with no mercy. But he didn't just kill them and be done, oh no no no, he tortured them. made them watch there loved ones die. made them go to the point of insanity. and he loved every single second that he watched them suffer at the tips of his fingers. when he went to kill Dumbledore who had never died before but faked his death, he was killed in a ambush. still out for his blood he was helped by a family friend who we know as death. Harry was sent back to 1934 where he was know as 5 year old mute Hadrian Peverell. a orphan in wools orphanage and the beauty of the orphanage. he ends up being roomed with Tom Marvolo Riddle but with his now wise 157, well now 162 year old mind he was ready for anything. including excepting his soul mate and helping him. as Dumbledore always said. For the greater good.

"Oh my love," Voldemort sighed. "Aren't you tired of this endless running? You don't look well. All this writhing in the dust like a hunted animal doesn't suit you." Harry struggled against the binds keeping him in place, his breaths coming out in sharps pants as he twisted away from his touch. He's a monster, he reminded himself, forcing himself not to think about how gentle he could be with him. How much he missed his touch. You need to run from him, run far, far away. You are in the middle of a war! "I'm tired of chasing," Voldemort continued, stepping closer to Harry's struggling form. "Of indulging this little game of yours. Let's stop pretending there's anywhere you could run where I would not find you." He paused in front of Harry and knelt down, a hand reaching out to caress his cheek possessively. "Let's stop pretending you want to be anywhere but my arms, hmm?" "Go to hell!" Harry spits, jerking away from his touch. "I'm not yours!" "And that, my love, is where you're wrong," Voldemort said with a crazed smirk. "Nothing, not even death, could keep me from you. You always have and always will belong to me!" |.-.-.-.-.-.-.-| Voldemort had finally won. He defeated the light and gained control over Magical Britain, and in the process, he had lost everything. As he remembers how he met, fell in love with, and ultimately lost Harry Potter, he realizes that in his greed, Voldemort had ruined everything that ever mattered to him. But when new information comes to light, it's a race against time to bring Harry Potter back from the dead and reconcile their relationship or risk losing the love of his life forever... ...Even if it means getting help from what's left of the Golden Trio.

One summer day, he sees Voldemort on his neighbor's roof. And it all came crashing down. Armed with a stabbed diary that oddly brings him comfort and a ring that feels important, Harry is ill-equipped for the summer ahead. 'On his neighbour's roof, staring directly at him, was Voldemort. It would be comical if it wasn't for the struggling muggle teen in his grasp. Mockingly, Voldemort held up a scrap of parchment. 'Surrender yourself, or the muggle perishes.' Harry ducked away from the glass and got his writing supplies out. He held the parchment to the wall as he wrote, with a quill this time. 'I don't negotiate with terrorists. I'm going back to bed.' He wiggled it into the corner and left the sight of the window. There was a strangled scream he tried to block out. In bed, he piled his blanket over his ears. Bottom of the line, he needed sleep. And who was he to intervene? Every damned time he did, the person ended up dead or injured. Cedric, Sirius, and countless other friends had suffered under his supervision. Harry was done playing saviour.' Cross posted from AO3 by Author (me)

Voldemort intended the object to be used by his most loyal follower in the event that his horcruxes were destroyed, but it ended up in Hermione's possession instead. She knows she has to kill him. Steal his horcruxes. Destroy him. But Tom Riddle isn't who she thought he was. Hermione discovers it's a dark descent into the madness of the man she should hate, but can't. When she realizes Tom Riddle's soul is half of her own, she knows she can't destroy him. To kill him would be to destroy herself. There simply has to be another way.

❝‬𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙗𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙧𝙪𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙀𝙙𝙚𝙣. 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙨 𝙄, 𝙩𝙤𝙤, 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙀𝙫𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪.❞ tom riddle ff ©coffeeicreme on hiatus