The last chapter so far. I hope you will like it and thank you for the likes and comments. :-)

English is not my native language and if someone of you wants to correct my mistakes: Thanks and I won't stop you.

Have fun. :-)

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As Harry Potter came to Hogwarts, he thought that everything would be better than before. Of course, first of all he thought that the letter was just a fake. Something like this couldn't be real. It simply couldn't. But as Hagrid came to get him a little hope caught fire. There were thoughts in him. Thoughts which filed him with hope and fear at the same time. Hope, that he would finally find friends, real friends and that he could be just like every average boy of his age. Like he wished for such a long time. He wanted to be normal. Once in his life he wanted being normal and not looked at as a freak he was. But instead of proving that he could be normal, he sat there in front of everybody on an old stool with a hat on his head. He could feel their eyes on him as he was a rarely exhibit in a museum. Harry never felt more like a freak than in this moment. He hated it with his whole heart. He could feel their observant glances on him and it made him feeling uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable.

He started to wriggle on the stool and his heart started beating faster. After some minutes, as it remained still in the Great Hall, students all around the tables began to whisper with the person next to them. A general anxiety captured the students and they started to wonder what happened in front of them. It was unusual that a new student wasn't sorted into a house after a few minutes.

"Gryffindor!" shouted the hat and it took a short moment for Harry to realise that the voice of the hat wasn't any longer in his head. Which was an weird experience. He had never listened to a voice in his head that wasn't his own. And, of course, he had never heard a hat which could actually speak.

With wobbly legs he rose from the stool and stumbled to his House table. Only in the background of his head he heard the happy and joyful slapping of his new house members. He didn't care. The hat had respected his wish. He couldn't believe what just happened. With round eyes he tried to remember when the last time someone, or somewhat, fulfilled a request for him.

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In his first year at Hogwarts Harry learned that magic was actually true. Harry realised that he was indeed a wizard and that he attended a school which taught this stuff to him. There were Professors who knew their subjects and had the task to support him. It was an amazing feeling. And as he he saw the library for the first time his heart started beating faster and the only thing he wanted to do was to stay right there and look around. But, he thought with sad eyes, he wasn't suppose to like learning and reading. He was a Gryffindor now, not a nerdy Ravenclaw and Ron, a new mate of him, kept out of harm's way as well. The only one he knew with the habit of going to the library was Hermione Granger. Mocked by everyone because of it and without any friends. So, he didn't go there. Harry wanted someone he could call a friend and if he went there he wouldn't find somebody. Another thing that Harry worked out was that everyone figured that they knew more about him than he about himself. I read in a book about you. Or. You look so like your father. Except your eyes. You have your mother's eyes. Great people. They were great people. Even the man who taught him potions told him which person he was although they had never seen each other before. Arrogant. Just like your father. These were his words towards him and Harry... Harry was confused. After the first lesson he had with the man Harry knew that he hated him with every cell in his body. But he didn't figured out was the reason why.

One night he slipped out of the Gryffindor tower. And there things started being complicated. Trolls, hidden rooms in the third floor and a big dog named Fluffy. A dragon took part as well. And during this period he made friends with Hagrid, the gamekeeper and Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts, and Hermione, where Harry had to admit that she really acted like a typical know-it-all. He had to face his first detention together with Ron and Malfoy, a spilled brat, in the Forbidden Forest. The place where he saw Voldemort the first time in his life. It shouldn't be the last time.

His very first year at the wizarding school ended in a way he never expected it to end. Laying in a bed in the Hospital Wing he thought back to the start of the term. This was the weirdest year in his whole life and there were a lot of weird things before. He knew exactly what he was talking about. Since he was growing up with his relatives.

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His second year started odd even before it started. There was a so called house elf. A tiny and small figure with big eyes and ears. His name was Dobby and he was standing in the middle of Harrys bedroom. (His relatives gave him the second bedroom from his cousin, after they saw the address which was written on top of his letter.) And it tried to convince Harry that he should never going back to school. Harry couldn't bring himself to say yes.

After that a little accident happened which involved magic. Of course it wasn't him who did it but his relatives didn't believe him and his uncle converted his room into a prison cell. With a dumb feeling in his gut Harry watched his room forming in his very own prison. There were grids in front of his window, locks at his door and Hedwig, his first present ever, looked at him with sad eyes. "I know," he said. "I wish I could change it."

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In his second year at Hogwarts Harry learned to understand the meaning of the words family and friendship. Both meant loyalty and trust as well.

The first time he associated anything else with family was as he saw a flying car in front of his window and the faces of three Weasleys'. Before family was just a word which stands for a bit of fear and suppression. Now there was a warm feeling. Something unknown for him. Something which overstrained him and some which called Ron normal. It was everything, but not some he would call normal.

The friendship got its meaning as everyone thought he was Slytherin's heir. His friends were standing up for him without that he had to ask them. They didn't hesitate once or doubted him. No. The opposite was the case. Even as he told them they would be mistrusted and considered as an ousider as well, they remained at his side. Hermione smiled and responded that her first year was almost the same. So this wouldn't be anything new, she was used to it. At this statement Harry couldn't bear her gaze. It was his fault. He could have spoken earlier with her but he didn't.

Things got worse as he began to hear voices. And suddenly he was aware of one thing. Even in the wizard world: He wasn't average. He just couldn't be like everyone else. No! Of course he had to be The-Boy-Who-Lived and someone who could hear voices nobody else could hear.

Together with his two best friends tried to figure out what happened in the castle. Hogwarts wasn't like before. Pupils were found frozen and nobody knew what caused this state. Harry became popular being Slytherin's heir and everybody feared him doing something bad. The majority hated and feared him and some thought he had gone insane.

"Harry?" Ron asked quietly. "What... What should we do?" They stand next to Hermione's bed and looked down at her frozen figure.

"I don't know Ron," he answered and hated himself for this stupid remark. "But I wish I would know..."

In his second year Harry found the Chamber of Secrets. Something that not one adult could do before and in the back of his mind was the quiet question why he had to be the one. Together with Ron and Professor Lockhart they went down.

Harry felt his heart beat very fast. He was standing in front of something like passage. Old and it even looked like it was a bit rusty. Parseltongue, he remind himself. And it worked. The Chamber was huge. There wasn't another word to describe it. He stumbled at first but could catch himself before he could fall.

Tom Riddle looked like the one in the diary, Harry guessed. It was as the teenager had waited for him. A slick smile was on his face and Harry felt a prickle in his stomach. Deja vu , whispered a tiny voice in his head. He looked familiar. As would Harry knew him since a very long time and something screamed at him. To run. But he couldn't put a finger on it. Should he turn around and run away or should he run to the slim figure in front of him.

"Ginny," he said and whatever it was broke.

As Harry reported to the headmaster what happened in the Chamber he skipped mostly everything. He told him that he killed the Basilisk with Gryffindor's sword and that Voldemort's given name was Tom. Tom Marvolo Riddle.

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His third year at Hogwarts started like the second one a bit different than an average student was used to. But because he wasn't average he wasn't even surprised. Another magical accident happened. As the first one this one involved a Muggle as well, his uncle eldest sister Marge Dursley. To kept it short: His uncle refused to sign a letter which granted a permission going to the wizarding village Hogsmeade.

It was kind of funny, Harry thought. With his wand in one hand, his bag besides him and sitting on a street. It wasn't his attention but as the bus stopped only one meter before him he just tumbled. The large dog was forgotten and he stared ahead in disbelief. It looked ridiculous high and unstable.

"The Knight Bus," he replied slowly and went inside. "I guess, when this start so, it can only get worse."

And it got worse. The following school year went on weird. Odd. Whoever thought it would be a great idea to let Hagrid teach, even when it was just Care of Magical Creatures. Harry didn't want to say anything against his friend but his teaching method wasn't something for everyone. Personally he found it amazing. Yet Malfoy thought the opposite way. And as he, Malfoy, was kicked by a hippogriff in one of Hagrid's lessons... Well, let's say Malfoy's father was more influential than Hagrid and Buckbeak, the hippogriff, was sentenced to death.

To name the rest of his year was simple. Harry figured, or rather Hermione, out that one of their Professors was a werewolf. Professor Lupin, his favourite and best teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts. And to made it even better Harrys godfather was a committing mass murder on the run. Lucky him, Harry thought cynical. Snape was as nasty and unfair as always and seemed to hate Harry with every year a bit more and hated every single lesson he had with him. Snape preferred his own house, Slytherin, and disliked Gryffindor at the most. Especially since Harry was part of it. His method of teaching was horrible for everyone how wasn't in Slytherin or just a natural. Harry wasn't any of it.

Then he got a map of Hogwarts which showed him everyone. Were they were and where there were or went. It was practical and he could go to Hogsmeade. Which he did. Hidden under his invisible cloak (he got this as a present in his first year at Christmas).

And now he was here. Side by side with Hermione in the Forbidden Forest. His hearts was racing inside his chest and he had difficulties catching his breath. His mind tried to handle the fact that he turned back in time. Certainly, magic was real. Why should time travel be impossible? He would laugh but with the knowledge that Lupin, as a werewolf at the moment, would kill them instantly, he knew it better than to follow this urge.

The third year proved Harry that his life couldn't be normal. His child's dream of being average will never came true. But he had friends and a godfather who loved him.

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The forth year started normal. Harry would went as far to say it was boring. He wasn't used to nothing happened. Alright, skipped that. It wasn't boring at all. Together with the Weasley family and Cedric Diggory, a Hufflepuff one year above Harry, he attended the Quidditch world cup. It was really amazing until there were the Death Eaters. Harry would describe them as a group of wizards which followed a crazy bastard named Voldemort. He got lost in the crowd and then, suddenly, everything stopped. Oh? Did he mentioned the dreams he had of Voldemort? No? Now he did. It was creepy and scary. End of the story.

As Harry arrived at Hogwarts he didn't expect anything. Actually it would be a good thing to have a proper year without any interruptions. But of course it didn't went this way. In the wizarding world was an occasion called the Triwizard Tournament. An absurd dangerous game which joined, so Harry's opinion, only people with a death wish. And since we were on this part of thinking: Which adults in there right mind would let children participate in it? The wittiest part of this play was that Hogwarts has been chosen being the setting for the next tournament.

The arrival of the two other schools were enjoyable, Harry assumed. The Beauxbatons Acadamy of Magic came in first. The girls looked amazing and there show was it as well. Coordinated and soft. At the contrary was the performance Durmstrang Institute. Powerful and square.

The year went on. To Harrys horror he was selected by a bloody cup, The Goblet of fire. Everyone thought that he wanted the attention, the first one who took part in it at such a young age. They hated him again. If Harry wouldn't be always in the focus he would laugh. That was just ridiculous. Why the hell should he want to join this madness? Oh Merlin. At first they called him there saviour, now they hated him. Every few months they changed their attitude towards him. It was laughable.

Ron hated him. Harry could just stare at Ron with an open mouth. "You really think I did this to gain more fame? Are you crazy?" he asked and wanted to hit something really badly.

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The best thing of this was the Yule Ball. Even if it felt wrong to lead the dance. Harry couldn't name what made him feel like this but every cell screamed wrong over and over. He was to short to lead Parvati properly, so he thought.

During the tournament Harry learned to hate Rita Skeeter, a witch who worked for the Daily Prophet, the wizarding newspaper. She wrote very detailed together with a lot of imagination and devised things -and an alarming huge crowd believed her.

The Triwizard Tournament demanded everything he had to offer. Between the tasks, where he fought against dragons, the merpeople and run through an amazing horrified labyrinth, Ron and Harry rebuilt their friendship. Of course it wasn't like before but they were on a good way.

Harry wanted to throw up. Never in his life he felt as helpless as now. Tears in his eyes and the death body of Cedric Diggory right before him. His heart was racing, his head numb as he watched with horror the resurrection of Voldemort. His, Harry's , blood circling through Voldemort's veins. Without questioning it was the most disgusting thing he ever saw.

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His next three years were heavily influenced by Voldemort along with the loss of many things and persons he loved.

In his fifth year he dreamed about Voldemort and after he couldn't stand this anymore he spoke with Dumbledore. A man which Harry cant judge. He was the headmaster of Hogwarts, that was sure. But all his actions were of a higher welfare. This man, if you asked Harry, was dangerous. Just... different than Voldemort and, which Harry valued most, he didn't tried to kill him.

"Concentration, Potter." Harry wasn't sure if could hate Snape more than at this moment. He had the ability to see the necessity behind it but that didn't mean he had to like it. Snape was a master, Harry could understand this part but what he couldn't understand was why Snape had to be the person who taught him Occlumency. This man had a horrified attitude towards his students, especially if they were named as Harry James Potter. It wasn't like he didn't try to act mature but under this circumstance it was impossible.

Besides the detentions with Umbridge, the torture in form of his daily Occlumency lessons with Snape, the school year went on without other disorders. And despite Snapes insistence that he was a hopeless case, Harry thought that he fared better than average. At least Snape didn't laugh about his more or less good childhood. And if that didn't proofed that he had a bit talent than he didn't know how to proof it in a better way.

It went on well until it didn't. One simple dream should change his whole being. Harry saw his godfather in the hands of Voldemort and something switched. Together with his friends and a couple more people he broke in the Ministry of Magic to save his godfather. And then he saw him die. Right before his eyes. Sirius Black. Death. Something in his body just broke and left a gap behind. His hope of a real hope disappeared.

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In his fifth year Harry learned that Voldemort wanted to see him death because of a prophecy. The picture of Tom Riddle faded out with every single minute and Voldemort, a crazy wizard who murdered his parents, took his place instead. The glimpse of a warm feeling was not present, there was just a dumb and bitter thing left.

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In his sixth and seventh year he hunted Voldemorts Horcruxes down. It was a dark business and sometimes he thought he would end insane as well. His mood switched between dumbness and horror.

Snape and Malfoy. Both protected him in a way he never imaged they would. And somehow Harry could understand what could be the reason why Snape acted like he did. He couldn't stand the thought that Lily had chosen James Potter instead of him. That Lily married the man who made his childhood a torture. Nonetheless Harry disliked the man.

Seeing your friends suffer was never a thing he wanted to watch. Hermione tortured from Bellatrix Lestrange. He knew it was necessary to hold Ron back. If they wanted to life they needed a possible plan. Time, he thought, we need time. While he considered he couldn't look away from the scene in front of them. He would remember her screams his whole life. They burned in his mind and could feel tears running down his cheeks.

Harry was ready to die so that everyone could life. Without purpose Harry reached Voldemort's goal. He was in possession of the Deathly Hallows and survived the killing course twice. It was Voldemorts aim to gain immortality. And in the end he lost. Voldemort died as he fought against Harry. "A nd either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives," Harry whispered as he quoted a part of the prophecy.

They had destroyed all Horcruxes the man had made in his life. Snape, Dumbledore, Sirius, Fred, Remus, Tonks. All gone. He broke in the safest places in the wizarding world, had run away from werewolf and faced the most disgusting things a wizard had to do. He and his friends witnessed the depths of human nature. And what for?

Harry never felt so alone. The war ended but to which price? So many who were death or hurt. So many who lost their family or a friend or a partner. Children which were orphans now and parents without their child.

"There is a reason," he told them, "for everything." He saw in there face and recognized the disbelieve. Harry wasn't sure whether he trusted his own words neither.

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Fate smiled sadly. So many souls which arrived at deaths gate. And two souls who shouldn't have had to follow the paths they did. One, who was insane since he lost his most valuable thing and finally passed away and another, who was standing in front of the ruins which were once his life a long time ago. Both destroyed from each others hands. Two persons who were meant to be each others solution. Two people. One like another but both formed into something different than they meant to be by decisions made from themselves and others. Time divided one from the other. But nothing could separated them for an eternity and so they collided.

Fate sighed. This should have another ending. Something more suitable.

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As Harry opened his eyes, his surroundings were lightened with the first sunrays of the day. Without thinking he took his glasses and then he froze. There, at the other side of the room, was Tom Riddle. Looking like he had every right being there and that it was just a normal thing. Harry watched the boy as he dressed himself in a Slytherin uniform. He had to be around 16 or 17. He looked like a teenager. That wasn't right. He saw him dying. His thoughts circled and didn't found a beginning or an ending.

Harry watched him as he stood up. This boy caused so many harm. Because of him... Harry saw the pictures of the war. Death bodies and tears wherever you went. But this... He looked kind of innocent.

"If you don't want to be late, you should stand up." And Tom Riddle left Harry Potter speechless.