Disclaimer: This is the last disclaimer I'll ever write.

A/N: Hello everyone. Please pardon the lateness; I wanted to write a really good final chapter and also…well, I guess it was just slightly harder to let go of this story than I thought. Hope you enjoy!

Pretending To Live

Epilogue

More than one year later

" ...just wanted to thank you again for what you did last week, I don't know where I would be now without you..."

"It's quite alright, Albert, really," Tom said wearily.

"You shouldn't be so modest," a stately witch wearing a pince nez and a stern expression said reprovingly. "Not many people could have gotten out of a situation like that with their lives, even those who have been training for years."

Tom was too tired to argue with her and so he resorted to his favorite 'dirty trick', as Ariadne liked to call it, and flashed her a charming smile. She blinked, momentarily dazed, and he took the chance to extricate himself from the crowd of Aurors, who were laughing and joking in the room. Several of them clapped him on the back as he passed them; one of them forced a glass of Firewhiskey in his hand as he left the chatter behind him and headed for one of the minor departments on his level.

He ducked as the occasional paper airplane emblazoned with the words 'Ministry of Magic' zoomed through the air and walked through a pair of heavy oak doors that emerged into a cluttered open area divided into cubicles. He spared a glance at the sign pinned to the nearest cubicle that read: Auror Headquarters.

He picked a familiar path through the maze of low walls until he came to a particular cubicle at the very back of the area where a man with curly blond hair was sitting with his feet up on his desk. He was throwing darts at a picture of a Quidditch team pinned up on the opposite wall; a half completed report and an upturned inkwell lay neglected on his desk.

Tom leaned by the cubicle's entrance and spared a lazy knock that caused the man to fumble his last shot; it hit the wall beside the poster.

The man turned around in his seat, taking his legs off the desk. "Tom!" He said in surprise. "What're you doing down here? Why aren't you up celebrating with the others?"

Tom set down the glass of Firewhiskey and folded his arms. "Celebrating what, Garrett?" He muttered moodily.

Garrett grinned. "I heard about what happened last week. Good thing you were there, can you believe with all the protective enchantments we've got on the interrogation cells that lot we caught still managed to escape?"

Tom shrugged and Garrett laughed at his expression and took a drink from the glass he had set down. "I keep on telling you this, but you need to loosen up, mate."

Tom sighed, for this was not the first time he had heard this, but the only concession he made to his request was to loosen his tie slightly. He flicked his wand and a thick stack of paper appeared out of nowhere and landed on Garrett's desk with a heavy thud. "Here's the report on those Crushing Cabinets you asked me about. As to your suggestion, I think it may be possible except in this case the victim did not actually step into the cabinet before she died..."

Garrett swore loudly. "You're making everyone else in this department look really bad." He reached under his desk and pulled out a large parcel that appeared to be filled with cauldron cakes. He held it up. "Want one? The missus sent them to me this morning."

Riddle took one and the two chewed in a companionable silence until the elder man decided to break it. "So, tell me why you haven't joined us in the Auror Office yet."

Tom snorted and Garrett amended, "Well, officially."

He sighed again. He had begun working in the Ministry of Magic almost half a year ago, in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, much to Ariadne's chagrin. He had started out in the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects but it seemed his natural gravitation towards Dark objects was inevitable as he had found himself straying more into the field of curse breaking and tracking down Dark magic than anything else. Particularly in the last couple of months, the Auror Office had begun requesting him specifically for assignments and lately, he had suddenly found himself tracking down Dark wizards rather than objects.

The irony was not lost on him.

"I've told you," Tom said heavily, "I just don't believe I'm the right person for the job."

"What a load of rubbish," Garrett replied in his typically blunt manner that both amused and exasperated him. "Richardson and Hodges would be in St Mungo's now if it weren't for you."

"I don't..." Tom said slowly, thinking it over, "...have the right sort of... background."

Garrett frowned, "What do you mean?"

"Never mind." Tom heaved a sigh and incinerated his crumpled cake wrapper with his wand.

Wisely, Garrett changed the subject. "Gladys down in level six fancies you, you know," he said lightly.

"Really." Tom's voice was flat.

"Yeah, but I told her that you were taken." The blond man grinned at him and tipped him a conspiratory wink.

Tom remained silent and not for the first time that day, he thought about Ariadne. The Hogwarts Express would be arriving at Platform 9 and 3/4 this afternoon for the Christmas holidays but he knew she would not be on it, for she had written to him last week saying that she had to stay behind to study for her upcoming final exams. Tom understood of course, but still, he could not help but be slightly disappointed at the news...

"She goes to Hogwarts, right?" Garrett said. "Your girl?"

Without realizing it, a slow smile began to spread across his face at the man's words. He imagined the look on her face if she had heard it herself and his grin grew wider. "Yes, she does."

"See, loads better," Garrett said approvingly. "Makes me almost think that you aren't secretly planning to murder us all in our sleep."

Tom laughed outright at this. "You know..." He said slowly, "...lately I have been considering the idea. Of becoming an Auror," he added when the other looked blank.

Garrett seemed about to reply but was interrupted by a slow, deep voice.

"I'm glad to hear it."

They both looked round to see a bald black wizard with a thin gold hoop in one ear watching them.

"Minister," Tom murmured in greeting while Garrett yawned, "Morning Kingsley."

Kingsley Shacklebolt nodded his acknowledgement to the other Auror before he turned back to Tom. "You must be the Mr Riddle I've been hearing quite a lot about. You helped us out of a rather tight spot last week."

Tom nodded. Although he had long since gotten used to the idea, he was inwardly grateful that very few people knew that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. Those that did were almost all of them dead by now, and those that remembered the clever, handsome student that had once been Head Boy over fifty years ago did not suspect what he had become in his later years...

"What are you doing down in the Detection Office?" Kingsley inquired.

"I'm a curse breaker," Tom replied. "I specialize in identifying and reversing Dark magic in cursed objects."

"And yet I hear you've been doing a lot of work here in the Auror Office."

Tom threw a sideways look at Garrett who shrugged. "Yes, as of late."

Garrett chimed in, "He helped us track down the Gardner twins from the Manchester murders, do you remember Kingsley? Ghastly pair."

"Why haven't you applied for training as an Auror?" Kingsley said, watching him closely. "You're more than eligible, from what I've seen in your school record."

Tom didn't pay much consideration to the compliment although it earned him a curious look from Garrett. "The thought has been beginning to cross my mind lately," he admitted.

"But?" Kingsley pressed.

Flashes of the previous year ran through his mind: how he had shattered all the mirrors in his apartment by accident when he had lost his temper, how he had brutally injured a man and how he had nearly killed another in a fit of rage.

Then the memories shifted to Ariadne; Ariadne calmly picking up the shards of glass on the floor; Ariadne erasing the man's memories as she had brought him to St Mungo's; Ariadne dabbing the blood away from his face in the silence of their apartment. She never seemed to blame him, which was foolish, and she trusted him, which was even more so.

It was difficult, fighting against his natural inclination towards the Dark-but he was trying, really. And the reason was simple: he loved her. Once it would have seemed a pathetic justification, a worthless argument to him- but that was a long time ago and from a mind very different from his own.

He loved her. But he couldn't stop himself from disappointing her when he slipped, or hurting her, although she never admitted it to him. So to even think about becoming an Auror, to fight against the Dark when so much of it was still inside of him, to volunteer to protect others when he couldn't even protect the one he cared about most from himself...was that not the worst kind of hypocrisy?

Tom kept his silence and Kingsley stared at him contemplatively.

"I don't know about you," he said slowly. "Who you are or what you've done. But you saved people's lives and that is not something they will forget. And if you're willing to put in the hours and the work, then we could use someone like you on the team."

Tom regarded him with a mixture of surprise and disbelief.

"I'll consider your offer," he said finally. "Minister."

As Kingsley left, Garrett grinned at him. "Looks like we'll be seeing you a lot more down here, then eh, Riddle?"

Tom ignored him as he watched the Minister's retreating figure. And, not for the first or the last time that day, he thought about Ariadne.

888

The train hissed behind me as I stepped off it and onto the platform. I sighed with relief and peered through the smoky vapour coming from the scarlet train, looking around at the crowd of people gathered around as they waited for their loved ones.

"See you around, Ari." One of my friends coming up behind me patted me on the back as he headed over to his family waiting by the sides and I grinned.

"Yeah, Merry Christmas mate-" Another one of my classmates said as they ran past, their luggage in tow. I waved at them with a similar greeting and shrugged the strap of my bag on my shoulder as I left the platform, slipping quietly through the crowd and through the barrier that opened out into a plain brick wall between platforms nine and ten.

I was grateful I hadn't packed much with me as I weaved through the clusters of people that packed the station; it only would have been a hassle to lug my trunk around. Once I was out, I breathed in the cold, wintry air and watched my breath make spirals of fog. As I walked, my eye was caught by a nearby stall that held an array of brightly colored flowers and I stopped.

"How much for them?" I asked, pointing at a bouquet of deep red poinsettias. I bought them and tucked them carefully under my arm as I continued to walk until I had found a relatively deserted area behind a few of the older shops. Then, wrapping my scarf more tightly around me and readjusting the flowers in my arms, I turned on the spot and disappeared.

I reappeared in front of a small, iron wrought gate covered in powdery white snow; I pushed it open and trod slowly through a familiar path that weaved through the rows upon rows of grey and white rectangular stones. I stopped when I reached the two that stood quietly side by side towards the back.

I knelt down in the thin snow and nestled the bouquet between the headstones; the red of the Christmas flowers gleamed like rubies against the stark white.

"Hi, mum," I said quietly. "Hi, dad. Merry Christmas."

I heard the bells of the church nearby begin to ring for the early mass and I watched the people trickle through the doors. Within minutes, the faint strains of Christmas carols echoed through the air.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited lately," I said. "I guess I'm pretty rotten at these sorts of things."

I stayed there in the snow until I felt my legs begin to grow numb. I stood up and rubbed my raw knees absently-of all times to wear a skirt- as I flicked a glance towards the church. It looked like service was already over. I cast one last glance at the two stones.

"Don't worry, okay?" I said. "I'm fine now. And don't be mad at... him. He's different. He's..." I hesitated. "He's kinder. And he makes me happy and well...I love him."

It was strange how warm I suddenly felt even in the frosty weather. Even though it had been almost two years now since he had found me in that grey street, I hadn't gotten used to the idea that I could even say such a thing. The very idea that there existed someone that I could say that to, in the way that I meant it...it was both frightening and comforting. I smiled into the scarf I had wrapped around my face and bent down to rearrange the bouquet between my parents' graves one last time.

"I miss you," I said and I turned on the spot again, the telltale crack! of my disappearance masked by the ringing of the church bells.

Once the suffocating blackness lifted, I found myself in dingy, shabby street some ways away from the old-fashioned red telephone box that was the visitor's entrance to the Ministry of Magic. I stepped inside, shutting the door behind me in a routine gesture and removed the phone from its handset that looked like had been half wrenched from the wall.

"6-2-4-4-2," I muttered as I put in the numbers using the rotating dial and waited.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business." said a cool female voice that sounded as though the person was standing right next to me.

"Ariadne de Lioncourt, I'm just visiting," I said into the handset and then added hurriedly, "But, er...could you not tell anyone about that just yet, it's kind of a surprise."

"Thank you," the voice said and a small rectangular badge popped out of the metal chute that normally would return change. "Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes."

I picked up; it read: Ariadne de Lioncourt, Surprise Visit.

Rolling my eyes, I pinned it to the front of my sweater and waited for the female voice to finish speaking.

"Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."

The booth jolted and then began to descend down into the earth; I leaned against the windows and waited until it finally shuddered to a halt.

The door opened and I stepped out onto the polished black floor of a vast hall. Fireplaces adorned the gleaming walls at intervals; occasionally green flames would erupt in them as a wizard or witch would emerge. High above, a brilliant blue ceiling decorated with changing golden symbols twinkled down. In the center of the hall was a gold fountain that threw light against the walls.

I blinked around in surprise. This was emptiest I had ever seen the Atrium: there were only a few groups of people scattered around the hall as opposed to the hundreds I was normally used to seeing bustling around, and a lone person at on the edge of the fountain. Then again, most people didn't like to work during holiday season...I scowled slightly.

I made my way to the end of the hall until I reached a desk to the left of the golden gates underneath a sign that read Security.

"Happy Christmas, Eric," I said to the poorly shaven wizard in peacock blue robes sitting behind the desk. He looked up from his Daily Prophet and grunted.

"Haven't seen you in a while," he said gruffly, pulling out a thin, golden instrument and waving it negligently over me.

"I've been at school," I reminded him as I handed over my wand.

He grunted again as he dropped it onto the set of brass scales on his desk. It began to vibrate and a piece of parchment popped out of its base.

"Alder, ten and a quarter inches, dragon heartstring core, been in use for two years," he said in a bored voice without looking at the parchment.

I made a non committal noise and took it back from him. Inwardly, I recalled my shock almost two years ago when I had discovered that I was still a witch; I had almost fainted. Then again it should have been obvious, I thought wryly, because I still had some of the First Locket's magic in my blood, didn't I? Even though in this present, the Twin Lockets no longer existed...

Tom had brought me to Ollivander's almost immediately (although he had not gone into the shop with me, for his wand was all too recognizable) and as if to confirm my most desperate of hopes, a wand had chosen me. It was slightly longer than what I was used to and its core was nothing extraordinary but nevertheless, my delight could not have been greater; I was a witch, I could go back to Hogwarts, I could stay with him...

"Is this proof enough?" Tom had asked me. "That you belong here with me?"

And because I hadn't been able to speak past the lump in my throat, I had only stretched up to my toes to kiss him.

"Are you going through?" The wizard asked, breaking me out of my reverie. He nodded at the golden gates to his left.

"No, I'll just wait in the Atrium. Cheers."

Unpinning the visitor's badge from my sweater-I must have had at least a dozen of these by now-I walked over to the golden fountain and tipped my head back to look up at it. Shimmering water surrounded a group of statues: a wizard, a beautiful witch, a centaur, a fierce goblin and a house elf. Jets of water gushed out from the ends of the wizard and witch's wands, from the arrow of the centaur and from the hat and ears of the goblin and the house elf. But what I had always liked most about it was that the motley group stood in a circle, facing outward. The wizard side by side with the goblin, the witch between the house elf and the centaur, as equals.

I glanced down at the gleaming bronze plaque at its base. This fountain stands in memory of those, be they human or not, that had been lost during the Battle of Hogwarts. May it serve as a reminder of our own humility and the importance of the bonds of friendship that withstand even the darkest of hours.

Below that, it read: Commissioned by H. J. Potter, R. B. Weasley and H. J. Granger.

Even further down: All proceeds from the Fountain of Magical Brethren will be given to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

I dug in my pocket and tossed in a Galleon, making a wish as I normally did whenever I visited. It was the same wish every time.

I was about to sit down by the fountain's edge when I noticed that I wasn't the only one doing so; I peered past the faint curtain of water at the man across. His back was to me but nevertheless my heart stopped dead in my chest.

Hardly daring to believe it and fighting the excitement that was beginning to trickle in just in case I was bitterly disappointed, I began to walk slowly around the fountain until the man's pointed profile came into view.

Then sorrow and joy rushed through me in equal measure and I reached a hand into my pocket and tossed in another handful of gold into the fountain on the spot. I sat down, some distance away from the man; he spared me a cold glance. At this, I completely lost my head; all self control disintegrated and I sidled up so that I was sitting right next to him.

"Hey, old man," I said with an irrepressible grin, "Don't you know you're not supposed to loiter around here?"

He actually looked around to check that I was addressing him. "Excuse me?" He said incredulously, his cold eyes narrowing.

"You're blocking the view," I told him. This was an utter lie, as the golden fountain towered behind us in the quiet hall.

He drew himself up in his most haughty manner as he looked down at me with ill disguised contempt. "And you?" He said with a sneer that brought back a thousand memories. "I think the dirt on my shoes have more of a right to be here than you."

I chuckled delightedly. "Ouch." I glanced down at his gleaming black shoes and compared them to my scuffed Mary Janes. "Bet they must have cost a patch, huh?"

"More than you can afford, I expect." He threw an imperious glance over my clothes, tossing his white-blond hair back slightly.

I snorted. "You're probably right."

He frowned at me, apparently irritated at my lack of insult. "Do you know who I am?" He asked impatiently.

I wanted to ask him the same thing. Instead, I fought a smile and said cheekily, "Some strange bloke who gets off on insulting teenage girls?"

His pale face flushed and now he looked seriously angry. "Why you impertinent-"

I couldn't help it; I laughed and the man looked at me as though I had lost my mind. "Sorry! I don't mean to be a prat, it's just...it's good to be out of school."

"Hard to tell with someone so obviously uneducated as you are," he said snidely. Then he paused and said out of an unwilling curiosity, "You go to Hogwarts?"

I beamed at him.

"In my final year," I said proudly. "I'm just coming down to stay with my...boyfriend for the holidays. He graduated last year." The memory came to me with a hint of sourness.

Even though I had technically been seventeen two years ago- perhaps even older if I had counted the years I had spent in the darkness when I had died- my birth certificate said that I had been born in 1993, which meant I was still sixteen on paper. I had to redo my whole sixth year again while Tom had continued on to his seventh. He had flat out refused to help me on this as I 'needed all the magical education I could get'.

Even now I had to stop my exasperation from showing through. What rubbish; I knew that he just took some weird and inexplicable delight in being older than me. It was irritating, especially now that I rarely saw him during the school year except for the holidays. I brightened slightly. "That's why I'm here actually, I want to surprise him once he finishes work."

"Did I ask for your life story?" The man said, looking thoroughly bad tempered.

I smiled at him. "Do you have kids?"

He frowned. "What?"

"Well...you're old."

"I am not-" he began hotly and then caught my amused look. His flush grew more pronounced, as I remembered it did when he got angry. "I don't have to listen to this, especially not from some mad bag lady-"

" 'Bag lady'?" I said, amused. "Good Lord, you must be ancient."

The man swore and made to get up; panicking, I caught his sleeve and pulled him back down.

"Sorry! Sorry, don't go okay?" I pleaded, forcing him back to his seat.

"You're insane!" He yelled as he struggled to get out of my grip, but to no avail. Desperation made me surprisingly strong.

But when he pulled out his wand with his free hand I let go of him immediately. I yelped another apology and he stared at me.

"I guess I am, but I'm sorry, I'm just- look-" I struggled for words, torn between wanting to tell him the truth and maintaining some semblance of sanity, "I am just really, really happy, okay? You have no idea-it's so- Christmas is great-" I sighed and gave up. "Never mind. What were you saying about your children?"

"I wasn't." He said coldly.

"Are they at Hogwarts? How old are they?"

"He," The man said in the same cold tone although I could detect a bit of smugness and pride lingering just under the surface, "is five. He'll be starting in a few years...that is, if I don't send him to Durmstrang instead," he muttered as an aside.

I wrinkled my nose. "What house d'you think he'll be in?"

"Unless he wants to be disowned, Slytherin." He caught the face that I made and said haughtily, "You're a Gryffindor, I expect."

"Yeah. You needn't look so impressed," I said, amused but pleasantly surprised that he didn't say anything other than the mute disdain that rolled off him in waves. "You know, I sort of pegged you for a Gryffindor myself."

"You're joking." He looked insulted.

"But Slytherin's a great house as well," I said lightly and surprise flickered over the familiar but aged features. "I think though, that he'll do alright no matter where he's in," I mused.

"Better than me, anyway," he muttered darkly, although it was more to himself.

I remembered the boy I had once called my brother and I smiled. "You're alright, old man."

He narrowed his eyes at me. "If you want to see your boyfriend, you'd better leave now or you'll be too late."

I grinned at him. "It's never too late." I glanced behind him and nearly choked as I saw a stream of Ministry workers leaving the golden gates and heading straight for the fireplaces on the left hand side of the hall. I scanned the group but could not find the dark haired head I was looking for; I must have missed him. I swore. "Except on this occasion, just a little bit."

I jumped up from my seat while the man looked on forlornly. "I'll catch you around sometime, okay?"

"Doubt it," he muttered.

"Say hello to your family for me!" I yelled as I began running for the same fireplaces, the ones I technically wasn't supposed to use. As green flames burst all around me, I crossed my fingers and hoped that I caught him in time.

888

Harry yawned and Vanished the pile of scrolls on his desk. He stood up and stretched, stealing a glance at Fabian Prewett's watch. "I think I'm done for today, are you coming?"

"No, you go on ahead," Ron said, rubbing his eyes. Only his forehead was visible over the massive sheaf of paper in front of him. "I've still got all these files to sort out by today and Hermione will kill me if I leave it for another week..."

Harry laughed and put on his cloak while Ron watched him wistfully.

"You're still coming over for dinner, right?" He asked.

"Yeah, Ginny's bringing something. She'll be glad to come, Albus is still sick with the flu, what a nightmare..."

"See you, mate," Ron said glumly.

Halfway up back to the Atrium he met Kingsley; they exchanged brief greetings and began walking together in the same direction.

"Did you hear about what happened last week down in the Auror Office?" Kingsley said. "You were away then, bargaining with that nasty group of hags in Kenya."

"Yes, I have," he said, frowning. "How did the detainees manage to escape custody in the first place?"

"I had a talk with Richardson about that," Kingsley replied gravely. "He put a lot of people's lives at risk...if it weren't for that new curse breaker..."

Thoughtlessly Harry said, "Who?"

Kingsley smiled. "Yes, apparently they've been making good use of him down in the Auror Office. He's certainly talented...do keep an eye on him, would you Potter?"

"What's his name?"

"Riddle," he replied and Harry froze mid step. At the same time, Kingsley had stopped by his own accord and he didn't notice Harry's expression. "Ah, there he is over there."

He pointed and Harry automatically followed his hand to the two men walking out of the golden grille. One he recognized as Garrett Abernathy, one of the Aurors down in the Investigation Department and the other was someone he had only seen in the shining memories of a Pensieve and once, face to face, in the Chamber of Secrets.

Tom Riddle.

There was no mistaking it. It was as if he had emerged from a memory; he looked not a day over twenty. He was not the snake-like monstrosity that he had seen leave the great cauldron when he was fourteen; he was still dark eyed and handsome. Harry felt a cold block of horror slip into his gut.

Kingsley yawned. "I'd better get back down to the office, I still haven't dealt with all the complaints I've received from Level Three about those exploding cheese graters..." He gave a weary sigh and strode off, leaving Harry to stare at the enemy he had thought he had defeated nearly thirteen years ago.

He watched Riddle step into one of the fireplaces at the left hand side of the hall and vanish in a burst of green flame. Then he pulled out his wand and followed him.

When the ash and dust cleared, he stepped out of the fireplace and looked wildly around. He caught the tail of Riddle's cloak some ways away; he was standing on top of the open marble staircase that led out into the courtyard. He was talking to Garrett Abernathy; the other man clapped him on the back and Riddle smiled mechanically. Harry felt a swoop of hatred surge in him and he strode forwards, his wand raised-

"Tom!"

Both he and Riddle gave a start and turned towards the source of the voice; he saw a streak of dark green as a girl darted up the stairs and threw herself on him. Riddle's hands came up automatically to steady her and she gripped the back of his robes, holding on to him as though she would never let go.

Harry had expected Riddle to throw her off; he was stunned when instead he merely adjusted their positions so that she was balancing comfortably on her toes so that the two were still locked in their tight embrace. The girl was saying something into his ear and he thought he saw Riddle laugh.

Harry stared.

Eventually the two broke apart, turning so that Riddle's back was towards him. The girl's gaze strayed over his shoulder and landed on Harry. Their eyes met and hers widened infinitesimally.

She murmured something quickly into Riddle's ear and he turned around to face Harry as well. For a minute that felt like an eternity, green locked with the grey.

There was recognition there, Harry was sure of it. And his grip around his wand tightened.

888

There-there he was! He was talking to another wizard on the marble steps; as I watched, the other man laughed and clapped him on the back. I thought I might have seen Tom roll his eyes. But he was smiling as he bid the other goodbye and although it was small I could tell it was genuine.

A fierce rush of pride ran through me and both my heart and my feet took off; I cried out his name as a warning and as he turned around I flung myself at him.

He staggered back but caught himself after a few steps; his arms wrapped around my waist to steady me.

"Ari?" He said and he sounded stunned. "What are you doing here? I thought you were staying at Hogwarts?"

"Surprise," I mumbled into his ear. I felt him sigh. Neither of us had moved from our positions and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

"You should have told me," he said disapprovingly, "I would have picked you up from King's Cross myself."

"That kind of contradicts the definition of 'surprise'," I pointed out and he sighed again but I felt his grip around my waist tighten. "How was work?"

"Interesting," he murmured. "Much more so than I would have thought."

I smiled into his shoulder but said nothing; he seemed to feel my amusement and said casually, "And you? How has your school year been so far, Ariadne?"

"Wonderful," I said unconvincingly. He didn't need to know that my grades in nearly every subject had taken a dramatic drop since he was no longer around to tutor me. "Top of every class, I am."

He laughed and much to my disappointment, pulled away, although he still yet held on to me. I tipped my head back to stare up into his face, examining the changes there that had been marked by the past year: he had grown taller, his hair slightly longer, his cheeks more hollow. But the dark grey of his eyes were the same and they anchored me there.

"I missed you," I said quietly.

"Yes, I got your Howlers," he said and he looked amused. But his eyes were warm as he twisted a lock of my hair around his fingers and bent his head down to touch mine.

And just like that, the whole world fell away and I was happy.

My eyes fluttered briefly shut; when I opened them they strayed somewhere over his shoulder and I froze.

"Tom..." I murmured.

He pulled away and followed the direction of my gaze to the man watching us some distance away. He was tall, with untidy black hair and a bespectacled, thin face. The wind blew suddenly and his hair shifted to reveal the lightning bolt scar cut into his forehead.

I reached down reflexively for Riddle's hand; he found mine and gripped it tightly in reassurance.

The man's eyes darted down to our clasped hands and he look momentarily startled. I noticed for the first time that his wand was out, although it dangled loosely at his side.

The pressure I put on Tom's hand doubled and he stroked soothing circles on the back of my own with his thumb. He was still looking in the man's direction.

They stared at one another for one long, unblinking moment. Then, slowly, Tom raised his free hand in a greeting.

Surprise and uncertainty flickered across the other man's face. I saw his fingers flex convulsively around the handle of his wand; I let out a cry of warning. The man's eyes dropped to mine and I saw the confusion there.

Please. I mouthed the word.

He frowned. His eyes darted back to Tom who still stood calmly beside me, his wand undrawn.

Then, after an agonizingly long moment, he gave a short, jerky nod.

I exhaled quietly and turned back to Tom who looked typically unconcerned; he spared one last glance in the man's direction before he pulled me gently along the marble steps. "So, where would you like to go?"

I sighed for his lack of worry but managed a weak grin. "I want to go home."

"Home," he echoed as if he had never heard the word in his life. "And where would that be?"

"Don't be cute," I said.

He raised his brows but the corners of his mouth tilted upwards. He offered me his arm and I took it with a smile. And together we turned on the spot and vanished.

888

Harry watched the two leave. He saw Riddle twirl his wand behind his back and produce a single scarlet flower to the girl who accepted both it and his arm with a smile before they disappeared.

He was unsure why he had not gone through with it. He wondered whether he would regret this moment in the future. The more he thought about it, the more his actions-or lack thereof- seemed increasingly stupid. Why hadn't he done anything?

And yet...

Was he Voldemort? Harry held no doubt that it was Tom Riddle at least, for he knew those features from what he had seen in memories that did not belong to him. But his actions did not make sense; did not fit the boy he remembered nor the man he had defeated. He had never seen Riddle look that way at anyone before, a look that even he, Harry, could not mistake for malice or contempt.

Was it possible that perhaps in some other life...there existed such a person that could both love and be loved by him in return?

It was a difficult thought. Dumbledore had said after all that it was impossible for him-but then Dumbledore was only human, and could make mistakes like any other man. And wasn't it what he had always insisted, that of all things, love was truly the most powerful sort of magic in the world? If love was strong enough to had once destroyed the enemy, then could it be possible for it to change the same man beyond recognition?

Harry did not know. But it was rapidly becoming clear to him now that if he had done what he had intended to do...he would be no better than him.

Love.

A terrible power. A beautiful curse.

Love changed things. Even now, Harry could not bring himself to find them, to attack him. He thought of the way the girl had tipped her head back to look at him, like a sunflower turning its face up to the sun. He thought of Ginny and how although the two were so different they somehow held an inexplicable similarity. It was the fierceness in her eyes, he supposed, a hard blazing expression that had shone through and had been equally and brutally returned by her frightening partner.

Could he destroy the happiness of another?

He sighed. He remembered that his wife was waiting for him, and so were the friends that had stood by his side through all these years. He remembered that war was finished, and that the time for peace had finally arrived. He raised a hand in an old reflex to the lightning scar that no longer pained him.

He thought of Ginny again. He thought of the girl that seemed to love Tom Riddle.

And despite himself, despite the uncertain future that lay before them, he smiled because he knew that in that moment, all was well.

The End

A/N: Again, thank you all so much for reading this story. I guess the only thing I'd like to add in my (final) author's note is that when I look back on earlier chapters from three years ago I cringe so bad…but honestly, I don't think I'll change them. Because I thought it was interesting to see how my writing sort of matured, I suppose, along with my characters. For example, at the beginning, I think now that Ari was quite rash and reckless but then towards the end, as she takes on all these responsibilities and cares and fears she becomes a little more serious and less immature. And growing up writing this story throughout all my high school years and even now, just starting college…it's kind of silly, but I just feel like I grew up with the characters as well. Although I'm not entirely sure about the 'maturation' part, haha…

This was the first, multi chaptered story I've ever finished, as well as the first romance story. I really, really fell hard for all of the characters here and I suppose if I continue writing, this will always be the story I'll remember.

So, thank you, thank you all. Take care, be safe and thank you once more for joining me on this amazing ride.

UrbanRosefall