Chapter Text
Harry didn't really know what to do. Dumbledore had faded away, blending into the whiteness of the replica of King's Cross station. And Harry was standing there on the platform, looking around and wondering what he was supposed to do. If he caught a train, according to Dumbledore it would take him, 'on'. But on to where?
Harry slowly turned in a full circle, taking in every detail of the platform. It was just like platform nine and three quarters, but much more ethereal. His eyes landed on the pinkish figure huddled under the seat nearby. The remnants of Tom Riddle's soul, stuck in Limbo. And the last piece was still alive, somewhere in the living world.
How long would it be until that final piece joined the infant like creature huddled under the seat? How long until Tom Riddle was whole once again?
Harry took a cautious step forward, curious despite himself. The creature did not give him its attention. It merely lay there, shivering as its bony arms wrapped around itself in an attempt to keep warm. Harry was vaguely disturbed by the picture it presented. While it did resemble an emaciated child, and was rather hideous to look up on, it still took hold of his heart strings.
Harry knew a lot about Tom Riddle. Things from what Voldemort had told him, things from what the Tom Riddle from the diary had told him, and things that Dumbledore had told him. He could probably understand Tom much better than anybody else in existence, and while that thought sort of frightened him, he had learned to accept it ages ago.
From what he knew of Tom, he had never had a friend. He had never had a love interest. He had never had anyone to genuinely care about him at all. Tom had been an incredibly lonely person for most of his life. And even when he referred to as followers as his 'true family', he did not actually see them as people he could trust. He did not care about them, and if it came down to it, he would kill them in order to succeed and further himself. A perfect example of this was Snape.
It just made Harry so sad that Tom did not get the same privileges as Harry did. Harry had friends. Harry had a different outcome. And while Harry had been improperly warned against Slytherin in the beginning and had convinced the Sorting Hat to put him elsewhere, it didn't change much. If Harry had chosen not to listen to anybody he would have been in Slytherin. With the way people viewed Slytherins he probably would have ended up just like Tom. A Halfblood stuck in the house of people who are believed to be blood purists, and racists, and former followers of the very Dark Lord that Harry had supposedly defeated. Hated by the other Houses simply for being a Slytherin. Had he actually gone to Slytherin, he probably would have ended up exactly like Tom Riddle. No friends, no family, and completely hard-hearted.
Harry wished that Tom could have had the same opportunity. All Tom would have needed was just one act of kindness, or one friend, and his entire childhood and teen years would have been completely different.
Now while Harry respected Dumbledore and looked up to the man, he did feel that Dumbledore had played a large part in the creation of Voldemort. Dumbledore knew and even had the memories of Tom Riddle claiming to be a parselmouth. And if Dumbledore knew that he could do such a thing, why did he not inform him of his possible ties to the Slytherin Line? Tom's time at Hogwarts could have been a lot better and his relationship with his fellow Slytherins would have been much happier had everybody known ahead of time, just who and what he was. And the Chamber of Secrets most likely would have never occurred, if everybody knew that Tom was the Slytherin heir and Tom was not foolish enough to act when people were suspicious of him. Dumbledore withheld that information, simply because of who Tom's ancestor was and that wasn't right.
Harry took another step forward, bringing himself much closer to the infant.
Tom Riddle's mutilated soul was breathing. Or something relatively close to breathing, since it was more of a wheeze. It folded in on itself, refusing to look up as Harry came nearer.
Bending down, Harry reached beneath the seat and drew the infant into his arms. He cared not for the blood covering the shivering frame, or the skeletal body. He simply clutched the broken being close, wishing that somebody had been there to do that for Tom when he was young. Wishing that somebody had cared.
There were no words. No sneers. Nothing to attempt to deter Harry from his careful ministrations. Harry simply held the creature to his chest, making sure to keep his breathing calm and his disposition friendly. Lightly, he began to hum.
Would Tom reside in Limbo forever? Would he be unable to move on to whatever sort of Paradise apparently existed after life?
"That depends on him."
Harry's head snapped to the left, eyes widening when they landed on the tall, cloaked figure standing mere feet from him. He could not see a face beneath the hood, but for some reason he just knew who it was.
"You are Death," he stated, eyeing the creature warily. His arms wrapped more protectively around the creature in his arms.
"Indeed. When I gifted the three brothers with my Hallows, I had given them favor. Favor in the eyes of Death is a rare thing, and comes with a price and a gift. Depending upon their character, they either suffered the price or earned the gift. Antioch and Cadmus paid the price. In truth, the three brothers were brilliant in their magic, which had earned them a boon each, but the eldest and the middle brother were extremely greedy and they paid the price. Your direct ancestor, Ignotus, ended it up receiving the gift. He did not die. He transcended realities and now resides in paradise, in a glorified form.
I have made it so that those who are descendants of the Peverell Three, may also partake in the price or the gift. As the rightful owner of one of my Hallows, you can either pay the price or accept the gift. Your character will determine. Just as you are, Tom Riddle is the only other living descendant of the three brothers and can either pay the price or accept the gift.
You have died. The moment the rest of Tom Riddle's soul departs from the living realm, he will be considered dead as well. However, instead of moving on, both of you will be stuck here. Between worlds, where souls with unfinished business tend to reside. However, your position here is due to your blood relation to the Peverell brothers. The price you pay is death but the gift you receive is a choice. You have one more chance to live in a new life. Nobody has ever managed to work out the riddle before and therefore always chose to move on to Paradise. But you can either stay here for eternity, move on to Paradise, or go back to the living world as a new being."
Harry stared at Death. His mind was whirling with all this new information. He and Tom were somehow related. The Hallows and Death, but also the fact that he could apparently become alive again and so could Tom.
"The reason I tell you about the gift, is because you have become my Master. You, who never wanted immortality to begin with, will be the only person to ever possess all of my Hallows at once. And no, Dumbledore did not actually possess any of them, he did not own them at all. They have only ever belonged to the Peverell family and its descendants. You won the wand by conquest, the cloak was yours by familial obligation, and in essence, as Tom's only other living relative and the fact that you defeated him on at least three separate occasions, you head over him by right of conquest of the Slytherin Line and anything he owned became yours. Meaning the stone is yours by conquest as well. You are the Master of Death."
Harry opened his mouth, fully prepared to go into a tirade about how he did not want to be immortal or ruler over death or anything ridiculous of that nature, but Death held up the skeletal hand and stopped him before he could begin.
"Yes, I know how you feel. So I have decided. Should you choose to return to life as a new being, you will be my master, for however long you wish. You will have powers that none other can have. Should someone die before you, you would have the power to stop their soul from moving on. You would even have the power to reinsert the soul into the body and reanimate the body. You'd be able to tether Souls to bodies so that even if the body suffers unimaginable torture and damage, it can't actually die. You could influence my power, to keep yourself young and unable to age. You could do the same to other people.
All of this power will be yours, should you accept to live again. But I will only remove the Hallows from your possession, when you truly do not wish to live any longer."
"Why would I even want to go back at all?" Harry asked, not really seeing why he'd care about going back when he could actually go forward and meet his parents.
"You never had a family," Death purred. "Tom never had a family either. What is a couple centuries of finally living the way you want? Of finally having the things that you want? You realize that if you move on to Paradise, you will be there for eternity. That means that you will have all eternity to spend with your loved ones. Why not live to the fullest? Why not do the things you wished you could do when you were younger? Why not just be yourself?"
It was a tempting offer. Honestly, Harry had always wanted to be free to live his life without anyone expecting things from him. Once the whole Voldemort things was over with, he could just live.
"What about Tom? Will he still be mad and hell bent on ruling over Muggles?"
"Once he is whole, his sanity will return."
"But will he still want to lord over everything that isn't him?" Harry asked, glaring at the being as if it was force Death to be truthful.
"That solely depends on Riddle's heart. When his mind and soul were whole, he did not want to rule the world. He never planned to be a Dark Lord, or even be like Grindelwald. Perhaps he will realize his mistakes and seek to rectify them."
So it was a fifty-fifty chance that Tom would go murderous Dark Lord again. But if he did, it would only take one hit to kill him. Harry had used the other two Unforgivables and while only slightly guilty for it, he felt the Killing Curse wasn't the worst.
If it came down to that, he'd do it.
"I want us to live again."
Voldemort's body wasn't buried. Harry made sure his body was cremated and that the remains were sealed into a mixture of flour and dirt, in hopes of removing possibility of anyone being able to tamper with the man's ashes.
The urn was buried in Tom's father's grave. The last place anyone would look. And only three people alive even knew about the grave itself.
Along the time it took for Death to work the magic required to bring Tom back from Limbo, Harry picked up a ward of his own. A young Slytherin who had been carelessly abandoned by his family for protesting the torture of first year students.
Harry had to wonder if Tom even knew that was what had happened while his Death Eaters ran the school.
For someone who claimed that magical blood was important, he sure seemed to love spilling it.
In the darkness of the Death Chamber, Harry stood, hidden under his Invisibility Cloak. Death had told him where to go to meet Tom and the soul was going to be coming through the Veil.
The voices cried out, some whispered to him, begging him to come closer. Harry stood resolutely, refusing to fall for it.
Through the mist, a form became visible, drawing nearer and nearer. Slowly, a hand reached through the barrier of the Veil, followed by a forearm and a shoulder. An attractive man fell through, completely starkers and shivering in the chill of the chamber. His transparent form flickered thrice, before solidifying into a creamy, pale color.
Harry removed the cloak.
Dark brown, near burgundy eyes met Avada green, and Harry cocked a brow in challenge.
§Harry Potter,§ came the sibilant voice.