It was a few months after the war had ended.
After all the funerals. After all the tears. Hogwarts was almost entirely rebuilt in preparation for the next year of classes to begin. That was if anyone was brave enough to face the walls that held so much horror once again.
After it all, the world was beginning to turn again. And people were beginning to go back to their lives once more. The hurt was still there, and yet the world still turned. Forcing people to move on.
But not Harry.
It wasn’t long after the final battle that Harry moved into Grimmauld Place. Alone. Much to the protest of his friends. But in the end it was his choice. He wanted to be alone for a while. He need it. To process. To mourn. Not just the losses from the battle, but the losses of his entire life. His history was a graveyard of memories and people he wished he could trade places with. People who deserved to live.
The season had begun to change. The air was getting colder. Harry knew that soon wizards and witches from all around England would pack their bags and get on the Hogwarts Express. In fact, he was pretty sure Hermione was going this year to finish school properly. She had mentioned it once or twice. Likely more, but Harry hadn’t really been in the right frame of mind recently to concentrate on much else other than his own thoughts.
Harry was not packing for Hogwarts. He was staring into the mirror next to a cabinet in a long forgot room of Grimmauld Place. His hair had grown even longer, he noticed. It almost touched his glasses at this point. His messy hair had turned into an even bigger mess of curls than before. Not that Harry cared.
Though Hermione definitely did. Once or twice she had threatened to get a pair of scissors and fix it herself.
“You look less like yourself everyday.”
Though perhaps that was to do with more than his hair.
His hair was of no importance. What did matter was the cupboard. Well, more so what was inside. A boggart. And of course there was no one but him to get rid of it. Not that it would be hard. It was a year 2 spell, he had no reason to be a nervous as he was. But it was not the spell that worried him. Not the boggart itself. But rather what the boggart could be.
Harry doubted that after everything that his greatest fear would still be a dementor. It couldn’t be. Not after everything he had seen. The things he had lived through. It just wouldn’t make sense anymore. Boggart’s were just feelings, they were just ideas. He had almost nothing to fear there. Almost nothing.
With a deep breath, Harry reach for his wand and pointed it at the cupboard and with a flick of his wrist… opened in.
Harry quickly shut his eyes. Refusing to see what was in front of him. Until he heard a voice.
“Wow. You even look like me.”
A tear pooled in his eyes. He had known, you see, all along what the boggart would be. He just refused to admit it. How could he not know? What he feared now, is what he had feared all along. That him and Tom Riddle were alike. That he could end up like him.
“C’mon Potter… Look me in the eyes.”
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Harry looked up at the man in front of him. The boy. Yet refusing to meet his eyes.
Tom stood there, smiling at him, his hair with a slight curl in it; and his eyes slightly greener than before. As if to say that they were the same. That he could be him after all. Maybe that he already was.
“What is it like then? To look at your future?” The snake asked him.
“I am nothing like you,” Harry whispered back. In place of a response the boy just laughed. Harry lifted his wand, but before he could spit out the spell Tom spoke once again.
“Such a pity. You are in denial of your own future. You can’t even admit your own faults. The blood on your hands is dripping. Just as mine are. You came back from the station that day. You seek the gift of a long life. Just as I did. “
“No. No.”
“You have no family left. You are the cause of their destruction. Just as I was the cause of mine.”
“I didn’t mean to! I just—“
“Killed them. I know.”
The tear that was pooling in Harry’s eye suddenly fell. As if heavy with the weight of his sins.
“You push away those who wish to help. As did I. We do not seek help, people like us. No. We seek something far darker. You know your desires. You know your destiny.”
“What I will become…”
“Is me.”
“Is nothing like you. You seek power for revenge. I seek revenge for closure. We are nothing alike.”
“And yet here you are. Fearing how alike we are above all else. Admit to the world what you have already known.”
“We are nothing—“
“We are EVERYTHING!”
Looking him in the eye for the first time, Harry lifted his wand to him. His face void of emotion.
“You aren’t him. You aren’t me. You are nothing. And so am I.”
With a last breath Harry whispered, “Goodbye Tom. Riddikulus”
And suddenly the once powerful lord was the size of a mouse. But Harry didn’t laugh. Even when the boggart escaped he did not follow. He simply watched. And thought. Perhaps he cried once or twice. But after it all he went to the phone and called Hermione and Ron. Because Tom was alone. And so he wouldn’t be.
Because he could be Tom. But he refused to be. So he wouldn’t. Because the world was ruled by will alone. And if Harry had nothing else she had his will.
“Hello? Harry? Is everything ok?”
“Of course,” he spoke, “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It’s just… You haven’t called recently.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you guys want to come over for dinner? I have no food here. I can only barely cook and I’m going to be terrible company but… I would really appreciate it if you could come over—“
“Harry! We loved to. We’ll be over soon.”
And then the line went dead.
He wasn’t Tom Riddler. Or Voldemort.
He was Harry. That was enough for now.