Chapter Text
AVADA KEDAVRA
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Harry jolted awake, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The remnants of an otherworldly pain echoed in his chest, yet a twisted laughter escaped his lips, signaling he had not succumbed to the infamous killing curse. Or maybe he did. He was alone.
"King's Cross," Harry mumbled, his confusion and weariness evident as he picked himself up, surveying the bright surroundings. He appeared to be naked and unscathed. Yet he felt a persistent ache in his chest.
He began to walk, guided by an unknown force.
The mist was never ending.
Harry walks for a long time. Despite it all, the only thing he feels is the growing pain in his chest. An unexplainable loss gnawing at his being.
In the profound stillness, a faint whimper pierced the air, drawing Harry's attention. The pain in his chest intensified, but he pressed forward as his hand clenched onto his chest. He hears thumping and the pitiful whimpering noises coming from near it, the view still obstructed by the mist.
Harry approached the source of the sound cautiously, curious of what it could be—
He recoiled for a moment at the unexpected sight. The source had the form of a small naked child. Its skin raw and rough, as it layed curled up on the ground in a fetal position, whimpering, as shudders emanated from the tiny figure. Unwanted.
Despite the uncomfortable sight, Harry felt drawn to it. The pain increased as he drew himself near it. But he didn’t care. He drew himself even closer–
“You can’t help him, Harry” A voice resonated, making Harry turn away from the pitiful scene. “You have to leave him.”
The sight of Dumbledore surprised Harry, but his gaze quickly returned to the whimpering child on the ground. The baby's cries grew more desperate, tugging at Harry's empathetic instincts.
Ignoring Dumbledore's warning, Harry gently scooped the baby into his arms, disregarding the blood that stained his hands and chest. The child continued to whimper, and Harry found himself lulled into a protective instinct. The pain in his chest reached a crescendo, but he paid it no heed.
“Harry. You wonderful boy. You brave, brave man.” Dumbledore started again. “It is something beyond either of our help. I already told you. You have to leave him. Let us walk.”
"It's him, isn't it?" Harry murmured softly, his voice a mixture of wonder and realization. The baby in his arms seemed to respond to the familiar tone, its cries gradually softening.
“Help will always be given to those who ask for it at Hogwarts, Harry,” Dumbledore said, his tone filled with a kind of sorrowful wisdom.
"Yet he was denied it, was he not?" Harry countered, his voice heavy with the weight of his thoughts.
“He was beyond help, Harry. You must understand. He was beyond saving. He is not capable of understanding,” Dumbledore replied, his eyes filled with a sorrow that seemed to reflect the weight of centuries.
"How am I different from him?" Harry asked, his voice trembling with emotion.
Dumbledore shook his head gently. “You are not Tom, Harry. You are nowhere near like him. Tom knew what he was doing, and where did it end him? It was just destroyed not many moments ago by none other than himself.”
It’s not fair.
“He was once like us, wasn’t he?” Harry said. “Like me.”
“No, Harry, no,” Dumbledore reached out, as if to hold him back. “He wasn’t. You know that.”
No, he doesn't.
Both his and Tom’s lives seemed set in stone. He had seen Tom’s remnants of memories, glimpses of a childhood that had shaped his destiny. They had both been driven by forces beyond their control. Harry was destined to be the hero who defeated the Dark Lord, guided by others until it was almost too late. Tom, on the other hand, had become a figure to be feared. Taught to be feared and powerful.All by those around him, and then it continued with Dumbledore. All because curiosity and kindness did not work for Tom.
It was live or die.
Dumbledore tried to hold him back.
Harry did not let him.
“Leave him there. You don’t know what you are doing, Harry.” Dumbledore declares.
Harry gritted his teeth.
“I know exactly what I am doing,” he replied without looking back. He wrapped the tiny figure of Tom with his robe, positioning his gently against his chest, hugging him tightly.
Once he turned, he saw that Dumbledore was gone. In his place stood a chilling, cold figure that gently embraced him from behind. Harry turned to see a hooded figure, its presence both intimidating and strangely comforting. He had seen this figure before, once or twice, when he was a child.
"Who are you?" Harry asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"I am Death," the figure replied, its voice like the rustling of ancient leaves. “But I think you know that. It’s nice to finally meet you, face to face. You, or well, I should say both of you.” Death smiles as it twirled around Harry. It looked at the small figure in Harry’s arm, gently yet sinisterly caressing the air around it.
Tom whined in fear and discomfort, as if facing pain and dread.
“What is it you want?” Harry grew defensive, moving away.
Death looks at him with a grin, "A choice."
"A choice?" Harry repeated, confused. "What choice?"
"To go back or to move forward," Death said. "The choice is yours."
“And what’s the catch?” Harry asked, believing it’s not that simple, not with Death.
“Nothing.” Death said as they shrugged.
“You're lying” Harry stated.
“I assure you, there is nothing.” Death guaranteed. “Just a teeny weeny decision. Besides, nothing is more difficult, and therefore more precious, than to be able to decide.”
Harry stared at Death with a blank expression. "And Tom?"
Death smiled knowingly. “He will not be allowed to pass. He is just a remnant, a piece of his soul. His soul must be whole in order for him to cross into the afterlife.”
Harry’s grip on Tom tightened. "I am not leaving without him."
“I know.” Death chuckled, amused. “That is why I am parting with you with a small gift. I know you are earnest, Harry Potter. You will do well”
“What do you–” Harry began to question, but before he could finish, he felt himself fading out of existence. Everything became too bright, and Harry panicked when he no longer felt Tom in his arms.
“You’ll understand soon, Master,” Death’s voice echoed as everything around Harry disappeared into light.
Harry regained consciousness as he remained lying in the courtyard. To his comfort, a feeling assures its presence in his being.
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He heard Narcissa ask about Draco. He nodded discreetly..
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“Dead” Narcissa’s voice resonated.