Title: The End or Perhaps, the Beginning.

Disclaimer: I do not, and never will, own Harry Potter, property of J.K. Rowling.

-x-X-x-

“So ends the famous Harry Potter,” said Riddle's distant voice. “Alone in the Chamber of Secrets, forsaken by his friends, defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Harry... She bought you twelve years of borrowed time... but Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must.”

- The memory of Tom Marvolo Riddle, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.

-x-X-x-

Harry frowned as the pain slowly faded, the chamber coming back into focus. This, he was not expecting to happen. On the verge of death, he had felt himself slipping, his soul preparing itself for departure. Then why did he feel better than ever? Why was he not dead, meeting with his parents in the afterlife? Surely, he had not become a ghost!

Harry gave his head a shake and looked down at his arm, noticing Fawkes resting its head against it. A pearly patch of tears was shining around the area where the wound had previously rested, said wound gone without a mark. His emerald eyes widened in shock, unable to believe his good fortune. He had been saved. Fawkes had saved his life once again.

“Get away, bird,” Riddle voiced suddenly in a growl. “Get away from him. I said, get away!”

Harry raised his head quickly, flinching as a loud bang, not dissimilar to that of a gun, echoed throughout the chamber. Harry watched as Fawkes took flight in a whirl of gold and scarlet, Riddle pointing his wand at the space Fawkes had previously occupied.

“Phoenix tears...” Riddle whispered, scowling at Harry's arm. “Of course, how stupid of me... healing powers... I forgot...” Riddle's eyes suddenly found Harry's, leaf green boring into emerald. “No matter, it makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter... you and me...”

Riddle then leveled the wand at Harry, smirking sinisterly. Harry stared back in defiance, but his shoulders were sagged in defeat. “Goodbye, Harry Pot-”

Both jumped, startled as something landed in Harry's lap, interrupting Riddle. Fawkes sang as both Harry and Riddle stared for a split second at the diary resting in the young boys lap. Then, without thinking, without considering, Harry acted, seizing the Basilisk fang on the floor next to him and attempted to plunge it into the diary with all the strength he could muster.

“No!” Riddle hissed, inadvertently switching to parseltongue. His image blurred, wand clattering to the ground as he warped into a strange, glowing yellow energy, no longer a solid being. Harry stopped, staring at the pulsing orb warily, the diary forgotten. It hovered a few feet above the ground, pulsing every few seconds like a heart beat, rippling as if it were liquid. Then, without warning, it flashed brightly, blinding Harry who covered his eyes with an arm, blinking furiously to regain his sight, but it was too late.

The energy shot forward like lightning, covering the short distance in under a second, impacting with Harry's chest. The boy suddenly screamed in agony, dropping the Basilisk fang in favor of clutching his chest as he fell back, convulsing madly on the slimy, cold stone floor.

The pain was unimaginable. It felt like his very soul was being torn to shreds as the foreign energy invaded him, spreading throughout his body and magic. His eyes bulged dangerously, his throat constricting as he choked on a blood curdling howl. He desperately pounded the ground with his fists as his back arched at a terrifying angle, as if hitting the cold stone would stop the torment. It was everywhere, inside his head, in his fingertips; he never knew such pain existed. The Basilisk poison just didn't stack up against it.

Blood ran freely from his curse scar, covering his face in a crimson mask of pain. It drooled down his neck to pool under his head, in his hair, everywhere, coating the chamber floor as if it were meant too. There was just so much of it. If he had been coherent, Harry would have been amazed at the amount a human could lose and still live.

Trying anything to relieve the pain, he rolled onto his stomach but it was fruitless as he continued to spasm, his mouth opening as he vomited all over the floor. He felt something crack as he arched to the side, a dull burn compared to the pain he had already witnessed. Thrashing from side to side, tears flowed from his eyes like bloody rivers, mixing with the blood coating his face, his glasses shattered a few feet away.

He couldn't take much more of this, it was just too much. People weren't built for this, especially twelve year old boys. He felt darkness beginning to cloud his vision when he heard it.

A voice. A familiar voice. Hissing in a language inside his head only they knew.

“You are mine! Now and forever!”

-x-X-x-

“Harry!” A young, feminine voice called desperately. “Harry, wake up!”

Green eyes snapped open in an instant, the owner's body lurching forward into a sitting position. Scrambling to his feet, he eyed the younger girl warily as he snatched his wand from the ground. The girl - I think her name is... Ginny. Ginny Weasley. - stared up at him in surprise. He ignored her in favor of eyeing the large, dead Basilisk lying a few meters away.

My precious pet, I-Wait a second, pet? But didn't I... but why would I kill my...

“You look... different,” She whispered, startling him from his thoughts. He stared at Ginny strangely. “Older... what happened, Harry?”

Harry? Is that my name? But I could have sworn my name was Tom. But then Harry sounds familiar and... right too. What... happened?

“Harry? Are you hurt? Answer me!” Ginny suddenly shouted, a tad hysterically. Harry - Or is it Tom? - felt a stab on annoyance lance through him. He frowned harshly, his eyes narrowed at the girl in front of him. She took a step back in surprise, a little frightened at the look on his face.

Weasley? I remember now. Purebloods, but they are blood-traitors, the lot of them. All filthy Gryffindor scum! How dare she talk in my presence! But wait... she's a friend? That makes no sense. Why would I be friends with a blood-traitor Weasley? This must be some kind of trick! Well it won't work!

“Harry?” She asked meekly, shrinking in on herself. “H-Harry, are yo-”

“Quiet, blood-traitor,” He hissed venomously, raising his wand up above his head before bringing it back down like a whip, channeling his magic towards his wand before she could move. “Accresco Gravitas!”

A loud hum accompanied the incantation, followed by a piercing scream of agony as the girl was crushed before his eyes, the gravity around her body increasing tremendously in pressure. A symphony of snaps echoed with her screams, the sound of her bones giving way under the unbelievable force. Even the ground beneath her feet started to give, large cracks branching out like a spiders web. It wasn't long before she was nothing but a broken, bloody, lifeless mess, her skull shattering under the strain and spilling her brain across the floor.

Canceling the spell, he stared at the lump of flesh emotionlessly before turning, ready to leave. A loud, deafening squawk stopped him in his tracks, as the phoenix darted towards him at full speed. Flinging himself out of the way from being dive bombed, he rolled with his momentum, skillfully back to his feet, snarling, “Avada Kedavra!”

His wand bucked violently as a deathly coil of green magic burst from his wand, an eerie rush of wind following in its wake. The phoenix had no time to move as the killing curse struck it in the back, between its wings. The creature literally exploded in a ball of flames, vile green mixed with bright red and gold. Ash piled on the ground underneath the small explosion, and from within the sooty mass, a tiny birds head poked out, squeaking softly.

Harry, as he decided he liked that name better, frowned at the newly re-born phoenix, mind racing.

Fawkes... Dumbledore's phoenix. Wait, when did Dumbledore have a phoenix? I've never seen it in the transfiguration classroom... wait, Dumbledore is headmaster. When did this happen? Hmm, if this is his phoenix, surely they can communicate in some fashion. That means it can't get back to Dumbledore... this is a problem.

Making his way towards the small magical icon, he stared at it for a few seconds before sighing. Flicking his wand, he conjured a small metal box and levitated Fawkes inside it, shutting the holed lid and locking it. The phoenix rolled around inside for a few seconds before stilling, knowing it could not escape in its current state. It was helpless for the time being.

“This is entirely too troublesome...” Harry muttered, walking towards the entrance, metal box in hand, wand in the other. Hissing the password absentmindedly, he passed through the large doorway and started down the rocky tunnel, his mind trying to process his conflicting thoughts and emotions.

It was strange. He was Harry, yet he was Tom. Harry Riddle? No, that wasn't right at all. Tom Potter? That sounded stupid. He just didn't understand. He remembered turning into that strange yellow energy but he also remembered the pain he felt after he was hit by it. He was two people, but he was one. An entirely new person, yet with both of his former selves thought processes and feelings, both of their power and knowledge. He was unable to comprehend.

Harry knew almost nothing about possession and Tom, at age sixteen, only knew so much about the subject, never having focused on it as much as other branches at the time. Nothing he had read said anything about what was happening. It was surreal. Unnatural, yet being unnatural was far from unexpected when dealing with magic. He tried to remember something he may have missed.

That girl, that Weasley. She told Tom many things about Harry. Harry survived the killing curse, from Tom's future self. Is that the reason? The killing curse is supposed to be unstoppable. It could be the reason...

Harry rubbed his forehead, his fingers tracing his curse scar carefully. He then frowned, annoyed at the complexity of all of this. He was just rounding the bend when someone shouted his name in relief.

“Harry! You're still alive!” Ron yelled, his face no longer worried. That didn't last. “Harry, w-where's Ginny?”

Harry stopped and stared at Ron.

Another blood-traitor! No, wait; he's my best friend, Harry's best friend. But he should be eradicated! But... I don't know.

“Ron,” Harry said blankly. “She didn't make it. The Basilisk... it crushed her.”

Ron's mouth fell open in shock, his eyes glazed over as he pitched forward, crumpling to his knees. “But... but... she can't be dead! She just can't be!”

Harry watched as the boy broke down, tears streaming down his face as he sobbed loudly into his hands, his body shaking violently. Harry looked away, choosing instead to look at the unconscious form of Gilderoy Lockhart. An idea quickly formed inside his head. Harry had witnessed what faulty memory charms could do to a person.

Silently, Harry snuck passed Ron to stand right behind the emotionally distressed boy. Smiling sadly, he looked down at his best friend - No, I shouldn't feel pity for a blood-traitor. - with pity. He needed to do this. No one could know about what happened here. No one could know Harry Potter even lived, even if it cost Ron his entire memory of life. He would probably be shipped off to London's premier wizarding hospital to live out the rest of his days.

“Goodbye,” He whispered, aiming his holly wand at the back of Ron's head.

“Wha-”

“Obliviate!”

-x-X-x-

Taking his invisibility cloak from his trunk, he shut the large storage container quietly before leaving the dormitory. He couldn't afford to take anything else. One item going missing can be excused, even if it was something rare. It's quite possible he may have taken it down into the chamber with him. Taking any thing else like his Nimbus, however, would be suspicious. He had to leave it behind, along with everything else.

It hadn't been hard getting from the second floor bathroom to Gryffindor tower unseen, apart from the minor problem of nearly descending the stairs towards the dungeons where the Slytherin common room rested. A mild but effective confundus charm, modified to be placed around his person had taken care of Myrtle and the moving portraits within the school. Couple Tom's nifty spell with the secret passageways the former student knew, he had gone undetected the whole way even with his little detour, not once coming close to being seen.

Slipping down the stairs, he quickly glided across the common room and out the portrait, under his invisibility cloak. A part of him wanted to stay but the other half wanted to flee. He couldn't tell who, out of Tom or Harry wanted to stay, but it didn't matter. He knew he had to leave. Ginny was dead and Ron was a vegetable. It couldn't be helped.

Ten minutes later found Harry leaping from a window on the second floor, Fawkes little box in hand, whispering a spell to halt his fall mere centimeters from the ground, and even less time before he was entering the forest line closest to Hogsmeade. He was free, confused and alone, but free.

-x-X-x-

Authors Notes: Well, that's that. This started as a way to get back into writing, since I haven't done very much of it in the last few months, trying to get rid of the rust. However, it's turned into something more. This is a possible prequel to a longer, chaptered story that I may start. Not sure yet, as I have another idea all planned out and ready to write, but who knows. I've always wanted to see a good 'Tom- possesses-Harry' story as there aren't many around, apart from one that I remember off the top of my head which started really well. So, I wrote one... or the start of one, at any rate.

Enjoy. Oh, and credit goes to the DLP Spell list for 'Accresco Gravitas'. I needed a nice, good, painful spell for Harry to hit someone with. I was originally looking for something with fire, but couldn't be bothered looking through them all. Heh.

Edited: Twenty-fifth of January, 2007.