The Dark Prince's Ascension

Chapter I

He was standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.

His heart beating very fast, Harry stood listening to the chill silence. Could the basilisk be lurking in a shadowy corner, behind a pillar? And where was Ginny?

He pulled out his wand and moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. He kept his eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following him. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, he thought he saw one stir.

Then, as he drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall. Harry had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above. It was ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And between the feet, facedown, lay a small, black-robed figure with flaming red hair.

"Ginny!" Harry muttered, sprinting to her and dropping to his knees. "Don't be dead—don't be dead—Ron will be very say if you're dead! Just wake up!"

"She won't wake," a soft voice said.

Harry jumped and spun around on his knees. A tall, black-haired, handsome boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as thought Harry was looking at him through a misted window. But there was no mistaking him.

"Tom…Tom Riddle?"

Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off Harry's face.

"What d'you mean she won't wake?" Harry asked. "She's not—Is she—"

"She's still alive, but only barely," Riddle said. Harry stared at him. Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, yet here he stood, a weird, misty light shining about him, not a day over sixteen.

"How is this happening?" Harry asked, ignoring his heart's heighten pace. "Are you a ghost?"

"A memory," Riddle said quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary Harry had found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Moving immediately, Harry got to the diary and took it. "I thought I lost it," he breathed, looking at Riddle. "How did all this happen—how did the dairy get out of my room, into here?" he asked.

Riddle chuckled. "Her," the boy said. "Everything that happened is because Ginny Weasley opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."

"What are you talking about?"

"The diary," Riddle said. "My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes—how her brothers tease her, how she had to come ot school with secondhand robes and books, how"—Riddle's eyes glinted—"how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her. …"

All the time he spoke, Riddle's eyes never left Harry's face. There was an almost hungry look in there. Harry tried to look away, making an unconscious groan at the last part.

"It's very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl," he went on. "But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic. I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. No one's ever understand me like you, Tom. …I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in …It's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket. …"

Riddle laughed, a high, cold laugh that didn't suit him. It made the hairs stand up on the back of Harry's neck. "This was her's?" Harry asked, looking down at the diary.

Riddle just shook his head. "Mine, Harry. The girl has just obtained it. If I may say so Harry, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. Just as it seems I have charmed you."

"W-What do you mean?" Harry asked.

Riddle just smirked and said, "You've showed importance for the diary over the girl, you've looked frantically for the diary, Ginny wrote all about your restless nights of looking, it seems through our short encounter, I have seemed to leave a mark on you." Harry shook his head, denying it, but Riddle just smirked. "No need to hide it Harry, I know how I've made you feel. It is all obvious. You coveting my diary."

"I just… thought you were handsome," Harry whispered.

Riddle chuckled and said, "How sweet of you. Now, where was I? Oh yes. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted. …I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darker secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her…"

"How?" Harry asked. "How did you feed on Ginny's soul? Why do you need it?"

"Because Harry," Riddle said coolly, "I need her soul to live. The more she pours into my diary, the more I become more real than memory."

"That's…"

"Awful?" Riddle finished. "Of course it is to people like you. After all, you fear what you don't understand—"

"Then make me understand," Harry said. "You took her soul from the diary to live," Harry stated, trying to understand.

"Yes," Riddle said, a bit stunned off yet interested in Harry's reaction, the boy still holding the diary close to him. "She poured out her soul to me, and the more she did the stronger I've became," Riddle repeated.

"Do you… do you need all of her soul?" Harry asked, looking down at the diary. He looked up at the handsome boy and said, "Wouldn't half her soul work?"

"Half?" Riddle laughed. "Stupid boy, why would I stop with only half of her soul? Half of her life?"

"Because…" Harry began, "Couldn't you uh just use half and uhh find some other way to…"

"Some other way to come back to life?" Riddle asked. He gave Harry a cold, smirk and said, "Sweet, innocent boy. Why would I look for another way when Ginny's soul is almost mine."

"Because… because," Harry said, his eyes darting around trying to find any reason. "I uhh like you."

"Like me?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded, his small cheeks getting a hint of rose.

"Then say it," Riddle said. "Say 'I like you Tom Riddle.'"

Harry's cheeks turned from the rose tint to flaming as he looked at the handsome boy standing in front of him. "I like you Tom Riddle," Harry said.

Riddle smirked. "A childhood crush," he said. "But I am glad that my diary fell into your hands. I was getting bored of Weasley, and she was starting to become suspicious of me. Blackouts, memory loss… the girl started to distrust me. That was, until, you came into the picture, sweet Harry. Ginny told me all about you, Harry. Your whole fascinating history." His eyes roved over the lightning scar on Harry's forehead, and their expressions grew hungrier. "I knew I must find out more about you, talk to you, meet you if I could. So I decided to show you my famous capture of that great oaf, Hagrid, to gain your trust—"

"Hagrid's my friend," Harry said, his voice starting to shake. "And you framed him, didn't you? I thought you made a mistake, but—"

Riddle laughed his high laugh again.

"It was my word against Hagrid's, Harry. Well, you can imagine how it looked to old Armando Dippet. On the one hand, Tom Riddle, poor but brilliant, parentless but so brave, school prefect, model student …on the other hand, big, blundering Hagrid in trouble every other week, trying to raise werewolf cubs under his bed, sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest to wrest trolls… but I admit, even I was surprised how well the plan worked. I thought someone must realize that Hagrid couldn't possibly be the Heir of Slytherin. It had taken me five whole years to find out everything I could about the Chamber of Secrets and discover the secret entrance…as though Hagrid had the brains or the power!

"Only the Transfiguration teacher, Dumbledore, seemed to think Hagrid was innocent. He persuaded Dippet to keep Hagrid and train him as gamekeeper. Yes, I think Dumbledore might have guessed. …Dumbledore never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did…"

"I bet Dumbledore saw right through you," Harry said, still clutching the diary.

"Well, he certainly kept an annoyingly close watch on me after Hagrid was expelled," Riddle said carelessly. "I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still in school. But I wasn't going to waste those long years I'd spent searching for it. I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work. And it seems, that I have found that person." Riddle smirked.

"You haven't! You haven't finished it, nobody died this time!" Harry said triumphantly.

"And yet you are still holding the diary," Riddle said. "Besides… killing mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore. For many months now, my new target has been—you."

"Me?"

"Yes," Riddle said. "Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it was Ginny who was writing to me, not you. She saw you with the diary, you see, and panicked. What if you found out how to work it, and I repeated all her secrets to you? What if, even worse, I told you who'd been strangling roosters? So the foolish little brat waited until your dormitory was deserted and stole it back. But I knew what I must do. It was clear to me that you were on the trail of Slytherin's heir. Ginny told me that you could never let down a good mystery, especially if that mystery gotten your best friend hurt… and that you are a Parseltongue. So I've had Miss Weasley write her own goodbye letter, all so that we could meet here."

"But why?" Harry asked. "Why are you so fascinated with me?"

"Well for one, it is the same reason why you are so fascinated with me," Voldemort smirked. "Also, I have so many questions for you Harry. Such as how is it that you—a small boy—managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"

There was an odd red gleam in his brown hungry eyes.

"Why do you care so much about Voldemort?" Harry asked slowly. "He was after your time…"

"Harry… Voldemort is my past, present, and future," Riddle said softly. He took out Harry's wand from his pocket and began to trace it through the air, writing three shimmering words:

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

Then he waved the wand once, and the letters of his name rearranged themselves:

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

"You see?" he whispered. "It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. And yet… even knowing this you still hold onto my diary so… why is that?"

"I…I don't know," Harry said, strong conflicting feelings raging inside him; the poor twelve year old not understanding or even able to name these emotions. "I can't. I just can't."

Riddle smirked at that. "How queer," he said. The boy finally moved, his footsteps echoing off the Chamber as he walked towards Harry, each step measured and precise. When he reached the kneeling boy, Riddle looked down. "Why aren't you yelling, Harry Potter? I am the man who killed your parents; the monster that the Wizarding World trembles of. Dumbledore ran away at the mere memory of me! Why aren't you reacting?"

Harry looked up at Riddle. He's supposed to hate him, he is. But for some untold reason he can't. His arms tightened around the diary. "I don't know Tom," Harry said. "I… I…"

"Stand," Riddle ordered. A sensation to obey filled Harry completely and he stood, shocked at his body's reactions. Riddle, also surprised, just looked down at the young boy. "You want my diary Harry," he said. "I can see it in your eyes. So how about we make a small agreement then."

"Agreement?" Harry asked warily, his eyes looking down at his wand in Riddle's hands. This is Voldemort he thought. I need to be careful.

"Yes," Riddle smirked. He started walking around Harry. "You want to keep my diary and save the girl Weasley's life, yet I tell you I need her soul so I can live. So tell me Harry, why should I just kill you now? Unleash Slytherin's Basilisk and have it devour you as I finish taking the rest of Weasley's soul?"

Riddle walked in a slow circle around Harry, his eyes glaring into him, but still Harry stood his ground. Still clutching the book Harry looked straight up at Riddle, their eyes meeting, and he said, "Because I have a better plan."

"Oh?" Riddle said amused.

"Yeah," Harry said, not losing his courage. "Take half of Ginny's soul. Take half of hers… and half of mine. I will keep the diary, use it… keep in contact with you—"

"And in exchange for you staying with your crush," Riddle smirked. "I get to become stronger on the soul of the boy I desperately wanted to meet." Riddle looked down at Harry. "You know what this mean, don't you Harry? You keep the diary, and you become mine."

Harry blushed and bit his lip, trying to control his prepubescent hormones and body. "So many ideas Harry… she told me the rumors, that you were almost sorted in Slytherin. So tell me, is it true?"

Harry looked up at Riddle and nodded. "Yeah, it is."

"Then why weren't you?" Riddle asked.

"I asked the Sorting Hat not to. It told me Slytherin would lead me to greatness, but it's wrong," Harry said. Riddle's eyes narrowed, but Harry stood his ground. "Malfoy's in Slytherin, I don't want to be in the same House with that Prat."

"I see… you would rather have a childish fight than achieve greatness…" Riddle shook his head. "That is something we will need to get out of you Harry. Now then Harry… I am willing to accept this, but first you need to tell me one thing."

"What?" Harry asked, curious and a bit apprehensive.

Riddle smirked, "Simply tell me Harry that you are mine. Say, 'I, Harry Potter, belong to Tom Marvolo Riddle.' Do this and I promise you many great things."

"Ron's sister will be safe? And the Basilisk attacks will be done… and the dairy will be mine?" Harry asked, looking down at the small black diary in his arms.

Riddle smiled a surprisingly honest smile and said, "Yes. Everything will be as you say. All you have to do is say those words."

Harry blushed and bit his lip as he thought. One on hand, here is Tom Riddle, the boy he had a crush on since he first saw him in the memory, the sixteen year old who couldn't escape Harry's mind. But he is also Lord Voldemort, the man who killed his parents. In his mind and heart complex emotions swirled inside, his body aching as a headache. He so wanted to be with Tom, his crush. He told him that he could be great, that there were so many things that he could give to Harry and Harry wanted to know each and every thing Riddle could give. Yet… he is the man who killed his mum, killed his dad. He is the one person who is responsible for Harry to be forced to live with his aunt, his uncle… his cousin. If it weren't for this handsome boy standing in front of him, Harry would have had a family, a normal family. His mum and dad and him. Still… Harry couldn't resist the handsome boy in front of him, he couldn't resist the soft gaze, or his pale, strong body. The emotions inside him battered his body numb as he thought, Riddle waiting patiently for his response.

The Chamber was dead quiet, Harry and Riddle just standing in front of each other, Ginny's unconscious body forgotten by the feet of the statue. Finally, after the tense quiet that overwhelmed them, Harry looked up at Riddle, his throat dry and lips trembling as he nodded. "Yes. …I Harry Potter belong to Tom Marvolo Riddle."

He felt something inside him move, something that awoken or changed, Harry couldn't tell. All he knew was that as soon as those words left his lips, he felt altered, changed forever. Riddle gave Harry a strange, hungry smile as he looked down at the boy.

"Good Harry, you have chosen correctly," Riddle said. "There is just one more thing…" And before Harry knew it, Riddle bent down and pulled the small second year for a kiss! It was brief, but still its message was clear. Standing dazed in Riddle's arms, Harry just watched as Tom Riddle slipped his wand back into Harry's robes. "You are mine Harry. Do not forget that," Riddle whispered in his ear.

Harry just nodded.

Tom smiled and moved away from the small boy. "And now, as I promised Harry, I will hold my first end of this agreement." He moved towards the unconscious body of Ginny Weasley and bent down. Harry watched as Tom placed a hand on her forehead, and slowly up surely started to become more faded and blurry. When the boy stood up, Harry thought he looked like a reflection off of a shimmering river that never stopped. The reflection walked back towards Harry and took his chin. "See Harry, I always keep my agreements, and I am merciful. You have nothing to worry about little boy." Harry swore he saw a smirking smile on the reflection's face. "Together, we are going to achieve the greatness you deserve. We are forever linked Harry, remember that."

Harry just nodded again, giving the reflection an odd smile.

There was a sound, and both the reflection and Harry looked around. Music was coming from somewhere. Riddle whirled around to stare down the empty Chamber. The music was growing louder. It was eerie, spine-tingling, unearthly; it lifted the hair of Harry's scalp. Then, as the music reached such a pitch that Harry felt it vibrating inside his own ribs, flames erupted at the top of the nearest pillar.

A crimson bird the size of a swan had appeared, piping its weird music to the vaulted ceiling. It had a glittering golden tail as long as a peacock's and gleaming golden talons, which were gripping a ragged bundle.

A second later, the bird was fling straight at Harry.

"A phoenix," Riddle said.

"Fawkes!" Harry said.

"And it brought the Sorting Hat," Riddle said, looking at the old hat the phoenix dropped. He then laughed and shook his head. "Dumbledore," he muttered "always a second too late. So unreliable. Don't worry Harry, you won't need to depend on the old fool anymore."

The reflection took a step closer, and Harry could have swore he felt him and Riddle connect, the boy disappearing both into his body and the diary. It felt hot, yet comforting; like Harry was being snuggled against a tall, broad body. Above all, however, it felt safe, like a hug a father would give to his son. "Dad," Harry unconsciously said.

He heard a chuckle in his own head, and Riddle's voice ringing out "No Harry, it is me. As we have agreed, you can have the diary as I have you. Right now I am lingering in both, still trapped in the diary, and yet I can still be inside you, listening to your thoughts, looking through your eyes. I am a shadow that will never leave your side. As long as you hold the diary close to you, I will always be there."

"Like a guardian angel?" Harry asked, earning Riddle's laughter.

"If you want to put it in such a way, then yes. But I am more important to you than a simple angel Harry, but that we can discuss later. For now, hide the book before the girl awakes, and make sure that bird doesn't see it."

Harry nodded and quickly turned as he pocketed the diary. He looked around and quickly ran towards Ginny.

"Search her robes!" Riddle's voice whispered inside him. "There should be another book identical to my diary. She thought she was being clever, using that one as a decoy in case you see it again. The foolish girl. Take the book and destroy it."

"How?"

"You're a wizard Harry," the voice said as Harry bent down Ginny's body, muttered an apology and started searching. "Use your wand! You should know the spell."

Harry nodded and made a noise as he felt the book and pulled it out. Just as Riddle said, it looked exactly like his diary. Taking out his wand, he muttered, "Incendio!"

A small fire began in the center of the book, and burned through it, leaving black angry singe marks around the edge of the fire as Harry opened the fake diary and continued to burn the pages, making it so the entire center was destroyed. When he was done, there was a giant hole in the center of the ruined diary, burn marks and smoke damage destroying the remaining pages.

"Excellent Harry," Riddle's voice whispered. "Now, simply repeat after me."

There came a moan from Ginny as she stirred. Her bemused eyes traveled the empty Chamber, to Harry and the diary in his hand. She drew a great, shuddering gasp and tears began to pour down her face.

"Harry—oh, Harry—I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I couldn't say it in front of Percy—it was me, Harry—but I—I s-swear I d-didn't mean to—R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over—and—Where's Riddle? The last thing I remember is him coming out of the dairy—"

"He's gone," Harry said. "Everything is alright Ginny. The diary is destroyed, see? The basilisk is gone as well, I took care of everything. Riddle is finished, the basilisk is gone, and the dairy is destroyed, see?" Harry showed her the destroyed diary. In her hazy mind, she just stared at it, believing him. "Now come on Ginny, let's get out of here—"

"I'm going to be expelled!" Ginny wept as Harry helped her awkwardly to her feet. "I've looked forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since B-Bill came and now I'll have to leave and—what'll Mum and Dad say?"

Fawkes was waiting for them, hovering in the Chamber entrance. Harry urged Ginny forward through the echoing gloom, and back into the tunnel. Harry heard the stone doors close behind them with a soft hiss.

"I may have failed Slytherin's goal," Tom Riddle whispered in his mind, "But I have still succeeded. Together Harry, we have succeeded.

What about Ginny? Now that you have half of her soul? Harry thought.

"She will life a half life, but it is a small price for us to achieve our goals. Forget her Harry," Tom Riddle whispered. Harry could have sworn he could hear the teen smirk as he said, "Besides, from your fascination with my diary… I can tell you will not like her. At least the way she likes you."

I know, I'm a poof. I've known since I was seven and accidently walked into Piers getting dress, Harry thought, a strange feeling started to bubble inside him. Regret? Fear?

"Harry!" Ron's voice pulled Harry out of his thoughts as they've approached the landslide of rocks.

"Ron! I've got Ginny! She's going to be okay!" Harry yelled. He heard a strangled cheer and they heard rocks being pushed out of the way before Ron's eager face appeared staring through a sizable gap he had managed in the rock fall.

"Ginny!" Ron thrust an arm through the gap in the rock to pull her through first. "You're alive! I don't believe it! What happened? How—what—where did that bird come from?"

Harry heard Riddle's chuckle. He climbed through the hole himself, and after Fawkes landed on his shoulder, offering him his talon, they all flew out, one holding onto the other as the phoenix carried them out of the Chamber of Secrets. Riddle led Harry, telling him that they needed to play the role of Hero. "You have done well with the girl Harry, but the old man will be suspicious. He knows of the basilisk, and will be suspicious of many things. Follow my voice, let your mouth speak my words and we will be fine."

Okay, Harry thought, just happy to have the diary, and in larger extent the sixteen year old Tom Riddle , near his body, the dairy practically touching him through his robe pocket. They found their way to Professor McGonagall's office. The door opened and Mrs. Weasley practically burst out, pulling Ginny into a fierce hug. Harry looked past them and saw Professor Dumbledore, standing by the mantelpiece beaming. Suddenly, he found himself in Mrs. Weasley's tight embrace, the woman hugging both him and Ron.

Harry found himself telling a tale for the next ten minutes, mixing his lies with Ginny's truths as Riddle whispered in his ear. He wanted this to be over, he didn't know how long he would able to last.

"You have done a fine job, Harry," Dumbledore congratulated. "If you would please sit down with me. Professor McGonagall, if you would lead the Weasleys to the Hospital Wing, it would be greatly appreciated. …In fact, I do believe Professor Lockhart here would also need to visit the wing." Everyone left, leaving Harry and Dumbledore alone.

"Keep calm Harry," Riddle whispered. "You need to stay calm, and listen to me."

"First of all," Dumbledore began, "Harry, I want to thank you. You must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber. Nothing but that could have called Fawkes to you." He stroke the phoenix, which had fluttered down onto his knee. "And so you met Tom Riddle. I imagine he was most interested in you. …"

He was, and I'm interested in him, Harry thought. Riddle ignored the thought and began whispering in Harry's ear. "I did… and he was. He wanted to know how I survived against Lord Voldemort," Harry said.

"Oh?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes," Harry nodded.

"Well, I must say that is to be expected. Tom Riddle believed that he was going to be the most powerful and feared wizard in the entire world. To hear that a mere child, a babe of one year, managed to defeat him and only suffer a scar on his forehead, well it must have hurt his ego," Dumbledore said.

Harry just nodded. "Sir? How is it that Riddle came out of the diary? He described himself as a memory but… that's not possible, is it?"

Dumbledore looked at him. "There are many things in the world that even I cannot explain. How Voldemort came out of the diary"—his hand gestured towards the burnt diary laying on Professor McGonagall's desk—"I cannot explain nor do I know. What I do know, however, is that you have done a very courageous thing, and for that I must thank you again."

"You're welcome, sir," Harry said.

Dumbledore smiled and stood up. "Well, I believe you need some food and rest. I suggest you go down to the feast, which I write to Azkaban—we need our gamekeeper back. And I must draft an advertisement for the Daily Prophet, too," he added thoughtfully. "We'll be needing a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. …Dear me, we do seem to run through them, don't we?"

"That would mostly be because of me, I guess," Tom Riddle's voice whispered in Harry's voice. "I have wanted to spread my knowledge and ideals to the next generation, after I have gained what I am… was looking for. Dumbledore must have denied me and I cursed the position in retaliation."

I can see why, you turned into Voldemort Harry thought.

"I am Voldemort," Riddle said. "Do not try to separate us Harry. The man you defeated is as much me as I am him. You are mine Harry, and I promise I will treat you kindly, as long as you remember that. I am Voldemort."

...Okay, Harry sighed in his head.

"Good, now stand up and return to the feast. The old fool is right, we need rest after tonight," Riddle said. Harry stood up, said his goodbye to Dumbledore, and walked out of the office. He returned back to the Great Hall and sat down in the Gryffindor table. He looked around, a strange feeling deep in his bowels as he looked at his fellow Gryffindors enjoying the feast. They were all smiling, and happily chatting their mundane conversations as they ate. He looked down at the food on his golden plate and started eating. He was hungry, starving even, so eating was not a problem. And yet… he couldn't help but feel different from the others, maybe it's because of Riddle's new influence, or something deep inside him started to bloom, but nevertheless he looked around the Gryffindor Table, memorizing all of their smiling faces, and he felt… different. He just couldn't understand it.

"Do not worry Harry, in time all will become clear," Riddle's voice whispered gently. "For now, just trust me. Trust me, and allow me to guide you, as per our agreement."

Harry nodded, and picked up his fork. "Okay," he said out loud and started to eat.

A/N: I'm branching out, trying new pairings! I remember this one being popular a few years ago and want to try my hand at it! Enjoy it? Hate it? Leave comments and tell me what you think.