Aftermath
Cold wind pushed its way through the cracks in the wall of his dark dreary cell and whistled its way to his bones, the guard guarding his cell was a portly man with a thick beard and shaky hands. Was this how they viewed him now, oh how the great Voldemort has fallen, so meek that all he required was a singular guard, not that it was inadequate or that the ministry was wrong in their assumption, he was weak with his magic stripped away from him and his hands and feet tethered to the wall, there wasn't much he could do.
He lost and yet all he felt was complete emptiness inside, ever since his first Horcrux there was little he could feel other than rage and hate, and now that they were all destroyed there was so little soul left in him that he couldn't even muster up the angry fiery rage that used to warm up his weary bones and breathe a whisper of life into his body.
It was interesting knowing death was so close yet not fearing it, all his life he was running from this dark figure he felt loomed over him everywhere he went, it was almost freeing.
There weren't many times he felt truly free, he could recount only two instances where freedom brushed its wings on him, Hogwart was one, the other was the palace in his mind, the one he created when he was still a child in Wools.
All he could really move is the pointer finger of his left hand which he brushed against the harsh stone he was tied to, thinking back do his days of scraped knees and hollow cheeks, his days in the orphanage, he wondered how far he’d abandoned that boy, that one he promised to always put first, the one he vowed to always keep safe, Tom Riddle was supposed to live forever, but was killed by the greed of Lord Voldemort, the same lord that promised him his eternity.
As time made its slow passage through the planes of his body he closed his eyes and leaned against the stony wall of his cell, slowly his body slumped onto itself as he fell asleep and dreamed of a familiar white sky.
During Battle
Death was a foreign feeling, it wasn't as similar to falling asleep as it was waking up drenched in cold sweat.
Opening his eyes to white wasnt what Harry was expecting, his body still ached from the damage of the battle but his mind was clear, all the noise that followed him throughout his life was quiet all of a sudden, which was nice but he also noticed an emptiness that made its presence prominent between his ribs.
He thought he would meet his parents and Sirius but all he could see was a vague picture of Kings cross station.
“Hello my dear boy”
Whipping around he found professor Dumbledore smiling at him with a serene smile that suited his long face.
“Professor” Harry breathed out, he had so much to say to him, he wanted to cry, kick out and scream and run and embrace the man all at the same time. But all that managed to come out of his mouth was a weak “where am I?”
“Well what do you see”
“Kings crossing”, Harry replied
“Then were at kings crossing” promptly answered Dumbledore
Placing his hand on Harry's shoulder Dumbledore urged Harry to walk with him, sensing a storm brewing inside Harry's mind he asked “what are you thinking about?” but Harry ignored him and asked a question of his own.
“Am I dead?”
Dumbledore stopped and looked down at him, for a second Harry thought he wouldn't answer, but eventually he resumed his walking, looking out to the vast whiteness surrounding them “not fully, you are now in a place between life and death, to those in the real world you are dead but your soul isn't fully at rest for that to happen you would have to move on from this place to another then you would be dead” answered Dumbledore.
Harry pondered his professor's answer, many questions filled his head but before he could ask them he heard a weak whimper coming from somewhere on his right, looking onto the vast emptiness he could make out the hazy shape of the benches that used to line the train station he remembers fondly.
Going to investigate the sound he found a small curled up body of what looked to be a child under one of the benches
Lifting up his head from his crouched position he saw Dumbledore looking at the curled up body.
“That's him,” said Dumbledore cryptically.
“Voldemort?”
“Yes, well the piece that was forced upon you that night”
“He looks so frail” Harry said, he felt conflicted, on one hand he was disgusted by the idea of the parasitic-like creature that followed him even in death, but on the other hand he almost felt parental, he may not have asked for this piece of his enemy to be put in him but it was there and it grew with him and was a part of him like how a child is a part of their parent while in the womb.
Without thinking he picked up the soul out from under the bench and cradled it in his arms, it was wrapped in a cloth that covered its face and half of his body, gingerly he pushed away the fabric from his face and gazed upon the small features hidden under a layer of translucent red liquid similar to blood.
He was hypnotized by the weight in his arms, was this how his mother felt when she first held him. The emptiness he felt when he first woke up in this place was suddenly filled with a feeling foreign to him. He wanted to protect this being like how he sometimes wished someone protected him when he was this young.
He almost didn't notice Dumbledore's hand that reached out to take away the small body from his arms. Harry didn't know why he felt the need to protect and comfort the child-like creature, or what that meant, all he knew was that he didn't want Dumbledore to take his child this being away from him.
Cradling the body closer to him, he gave his professor a stare that made him take a step back.
“Harry you shouldn't-” Dumbledore tried to say but was cut off by Harry turning away from him to hide the creature with his body.
“Harry, you dont understand if you don't put it back yo-” Dumbeldore tried to warn but was cut off suddenly. When Harry turned back around to see where his old professor went he found nothing but the vast whiteness.
Now alone with nobody but the child in his arms Harry started to panic, where was he supposed to go.
Deciding that standing would not help he started to wander, walking in a straight line so that he could maybe retrace his steps if he ever got lost he, while walking he stumbled upon an ancient looking tree, its trunk were thick, consisting of multiple ropes of wood that stood tall to hold up the many branches that twisted and intertwined to form a dome of leaves, it was as white as everything in this place was but surprisingly there was a slight shadow under that painted the ground with intricate designs of gray and offwhite.
Beside the tree was a small cottage, one identical to the one in Godric's hollow. With nowhere else to go Harry decided to enter the uncanny white cottage.
Harry knew little about taking care of children, he knew it would be even harder to take care of this child all alone in this weird place he knew no way out of, and while that thought scared him to tears, he also knew it wouldn't be hard to love this sweet being in his arms.
Salad days
Tom had many secrets, like a dragon to his stash of gold he kept his secrets hidden, away from the greedy eyes of his classmates and admirers.
Every secret of his was important to him but one stood out, one secret he would rather expose all his other secrets just to keep that one safe.
He first met him on the night he created his first Horcrux.
~~~
Exhaustion ate at his mind, he couldn't believe he did it, he didn't mean to make a Horcrux, but when do you get the opportunity to have a dead body at your disposal.
He didn't feel guilty per se, but as the adrenalin slowly left his body, an itch started to make its presence noticeable, anxiety like he hadn't felt before took over him and all he could do was lay in his bed.
‘You wanted this’ he said to himself ‘this will make you invincible, you are invincible now’
A smile broke his porcelain features, he was invincible, not even death can touch him now.
He could feel a cackle start to make its way up his throat, or maybe it was bile.
Black started to surround his vision and he fell asleep with his Horcrux safely under his pillow.
It took him a minute to realize where he was, he knew this white intimately, the same limitless clean white he used to escape to when reality was too much, when hunger was painful and the voices in his head were screaming, he found solitude in this almost clinical white.
But this time it was different, this time there was a white cottage just a couple of meters away, strangely, warm light was leaking out of the windows making where Tom stood now seem colder than it usually was.
Walking up to the cottage he could hear a voice coming from inside. He opened the door without knocking and was greeted with the sight of a boy around his age cooking and cooing at a deformed looking creature that sat in a highchair giggling at whatever the boy was saying.
The boy then turned around when he heard the door close.
“Tom! Come I made your favorites” the boy said with a smile on his young pretty face.
Looking at the dinner table he saw a Sunday roast, similar to the one served on the first day of term at Hogwarts. The boy was right, it was one of his favorites but how did he know that? how did he know him? and why was he in Tom's mind?
“Who are you?” Tom demanded
“Hah funny, come dig in-”
“What's your name?” Tom demanded, louder this time.
“Don't be silly, what? you forgot my name” Harry replied thinking it was some kind of joke but when Tom did not respond he answered “its Harry, now if your done joking around can we start eating”
Tom quickly analyzed the situation for any danger, Harry wasn't anyone he knew, that meant he is probably a figment of Tom's mind, maybe he's a hallucination stemmed from the exhaustion making a Horcrux brought about. When he was sure there was no danger, he sat down.
“Here you go, I hope you like it,” Harry said while putting the plate he made for Tom in front of him.
Eating in silence was comforting, the anxiety that was burning up his skin slowly started to seep out of him, the itch in the depths of his being was slowly ebbing away, Tom didn't know why but sitting here eating and listening as Harry feed the creature he called ‘baby’ mashed carrots was making him feel comfort, which he didn't fully understand.
Little did he know that after that night he would be seeking out the warm light of the cottage every time he laid down to sleep.
As the night turned to day Tom woke up to a faint humming coming from under his pillow, opening his journal, in neat handwriting, his neat handwriting he saw the words, ‘He is yours now, keep him safe.’
~~~
For many years to come Tom kept visiting Harry in white space, and without his knowledge he started to fall in love with Harry.
~~~
They were sitting on the couch by the fireplace, with nothing but the sound of the crackling wood and the beating of their hearts to fill in the comforting silence that covered them like a blanket.
“I love you” Tom professed into Harry's hair, kissing his way down Harry's face, whispering love letters into every feature of his beloved .
“I love you too” said Harry while giggling and smiling, a smile only Tom was allowed to see.
if you were to cut Tom open you would find Harry's smile carved into the side of his ribs, Tom will carry this secret to his gave, because it is his, and his alone, Harry, his sweet little secret, his darling, Harry who owned his heart, mind, and body, he who owned his whole being, what were heaven and hell to Harry.
~~~
As Tom made more and more Horcruxes, the connection he had with the white place started to dwindle, memories of his beloved Harry and their ‘child’ started to disappear, and because there was no way for Tom to remember Harry in the real world, he slowly started to forget him until he was nothing but the odd name his journal repeatedly wrote over and over again.
Aftermath
A familiar white sky greeted Voldemort as he opened his eyes, for a second Voldemort was hit with deja vu.
Looking around he found the cottage he used to call home, the windows still oozed warm light like they did all those years ago.
As he walked closer he could see the body of the person he held dearest to him fretting around.
Memories flooded his mind like water would flood from a broken dam, unconsciously he started rubbing his ribs, the place Harry always rested on.
How could he have forgotten about Harry, it seemed wild to him.
Tears started to leak from his eyes as all the grieving he should have been doing for decades now was all rushing at him that instant.
With no hesitancy, he broke into a run to the cottage door, he needed to see his beloved, needed to hold him, kiss him, know that his precious secret didn't forget about him, that he didn't forget their love.
But just as he was about to touch the door knob he was whisked away back to the dreary cell he was in.
“Get up, it's time” said the guard.
A couple of hours ago he was apathetic to death, now that he knew it was his only way to Harry he walked to it gladly.
Standing up Voldemort willingly followed the guard as he guided him throughout the ministry atrium that was lined with angry mobs of people who were all there to watch him die.
After being paraded around the ministry he was taken to the department of mystery, into the chamber where the veil of death was housed. A group of ministry officials were standing around to witness his death. The guard that was guiding him unchained his arms and legs.
“Any last words” someone shouted, malice and glee coloring their voice at his demise.
Being in the same place where he attacked his beloved made him feel an immense feeling of guilt.
“I'm sorry” he whispered, directing his apology to his Harry.
Walking to the veil Voldemort took a deep breath and smiled as he entered.
Liminal
Voldemort was back home again, he can hear the voice of his Harry fretting around their ‘child’.
Opening the door he was greeted by the sight of the person he missed the most.
“Tom! Come on we'll be late here carry this " Harry said passing him a picnic basket while kissing his cheek.
Harry went back and picked up his ‘Baby’ and pushed Voldemort out the door. “Hurry up or we'll miss the train” he fretted.
Voldemort was in a daze, he missed this so much, he missed Harry's touch, his voice, his presence that he didn't even realize that he was boarding an empty train.
Sitting down at a compartment Voldemort gazed at the vision that was Harry.
“Im sorry” he whispered
“Don't worry you weren't that late” Harry said with a smile on his face, bouncing his ‘Baby’ on his knee.