All Tom knew was pain.
He wished he knew how long it had been since he had finally been taken by death at the hands of Potter, a century could have passed as easily as a second. The passage of time had no meaning here, who he was before he died had no meaning anymore. The moment Potter's expelliarmus overcame his curse, Tom fell into an abyss. The only thing he knew with certainty was that he wasn't whole, he was fragments that were forever trying to meld themselves together while tearing themselves further apart and the feeling only grew.
Tom's wasn't a being, he wasn't a man or monster, he felt like dust. The details and memories of his past life began to fade away into the abyss he was doomed to remain in for eternity.
As soon as he reached death's realm, he realized what hell truly was. Hell was not the cruciatus curse, it was an eternal parade of the lives of those Voldemort had taken. Tom would find himself living their lives, feeling their feelings: a shadow of their love, their fear, and their hope, only to be faced with ungodly red eyes and a green light that ended it all.
Tom lived an endless amount of lives, both muggle and magical, all ending in the same horrible demise, and it was unbearable. He would watch his soul get torn away from his lifeless body and scream to be let go, to go back to his family, that he wasn't ready to die, just to be thrust into another life. He barely had any sense of who he once was in his last existence and the abhorrent red eyes were always there, just in his peripheral vision as he went through each life. The monster was always there, following him through every life he lived, like a demon waiting to swallow him whole.
The pain of death and loss was a constant, it became all he knew. Tom had his loved ones taken from him by the monster, he had his body torn apart, he watched those he loved be tortured and he could do nothing but watch.
Tom watched as the monster tore his child out of his arms and tortured her in front of it's followers before finally killing him. Tom screamed and screamed as he hovered over his dead body, watching as a massive snake began wrapping its coils around his child before being tossed back into the abyss of nothingness.
Something was different this time.
Tom found himself standing in a building filled with ethereal light. There were windows along the walls, flooding in white light and surprise struck him when he realized that he was in Kings Cross Station. Tom stood in the same spot he had when he first boarded the train to Hogwarts, and an odd emotion he couldn't quite place throbbed in his chest. He wasn't sure how he knew where this was, how the memory resurfaced when the rest hadn't.
"Hello Tom." The solemn baritone struck Tom to his core.
Tom whirled around to see a grey-haired man standing before him. A memory pushed its way to the forefront of his mind, Dumbledore giving him his Hogwarts letter. Dumbledore regarded him sadly, like he was still the little orphan boy he had met all those lifetimes ago, and Tom felt an add emotion he didn't understand pulse through him.
"Now Tom I must say I am surprised that we are here." Dumbledore said earnestly, cocking his head. "Let us walk."
Tom didn't know how he fell into step with Dumbledore, he didn't know how he had a semblance of a body after an afterlife as mere dust, but he did. "Are you really here?" Tom croaked, managing to find a voice he didn't believe still existed.
Dumbledore regarded him slowly before replying. "You see me, don't you? You're talking to me."
"I have seen countless people since I died." Tom said, feeling as though a hole was punched through his chest. "None of them were real."
"That doesn't mean they're not real, Tom. I never imagined that you would come so far, make the progress you have made." Dumbledore stopped and sat on a bench bathed in white light, patting the spot beside him in invitation. "Would you like to know what I said to Harry when I greeted him here?"
Tom felt his whole being squirm when his companion uttered that name and memories washed over him. Green eyes that tortured him for years, the last thing he saw before he was taken by death became the forefront of his vision. "Harry Potter," He uttered the name like a prayer. Memories tried to rise in his mind, but there was a barrier that held them at bay, that kept his recollection hazy, the same barrier that held back the Monster with red eyes.
Dumbledore didn't seem fazed by his lack of recognition, he seemed rather sad. "My, my Tom, you have come far. I once told Harry that you were beyond our help, that you were beyond salvation." A small smile played at the edge of his lips, "your soul is trying to make itself whole again."
Tom didn't entirely understand, but he figured the old man was referring to the sensation of his being torn apart and trying to mend together simultaneously. He chose not to answer, trying to reach within himself to find the memories of "Harry", but whenever he ventured too close to the edge the monstrous red eyes would appear and he was forced back.
"How do I become whole again?" Tom questioned, hope twisting in his insides.
Dumbledore gave him another sad look, "You have to face the memories of who you are Tom, of who you were."
Panic flooded through him and he shook his head violently, his hands immediately covering his eyes. "I can't do that; it would find me. The monster, it would find me." Tom muttered, the terror of the monster that had followed him through every life, destroying everything it reached. "It's always there."
"You have to face the monster, Tom, and accept it. I cannot help you until you do." Dumbledore's voice sounded further away this time, much to Tom's dismay.
Tom realized that he was being torn away from the station, Dumbledore stood up and watched him with a curious look on his face. He tried calling out to the man, begging him to let Tom stay but it was to no avail, he was dragged back to the abyss.
Eternity past, lives lived and lost, before Tom realized that he the feeling of his soul being forced together was becoming stronger than the force tearing it apart. His soul was not mended, it would become so close but would fall apart again leaving Tom devastated. The lives he led were bleeding together more and more and Tom realized he was feeling the victim's emotions stronger each time, which made his death worse than ever.
He never returned to Dumbledore and he knew why, as much as he didn't want to admit it. Tom needed to face the monster that loomed over him in perpetuity, he couldn't become whole unless he did. The idea of turning to face it terrified him to his core, he imagined he would be swallowed out of existence. An afterlife in Hell was worse to not exist at all.
Tom tried to imagine "Harry" but every path that led to him was blocked by glowing red eyes. In the lives he led, he tried to find the mysterious man but every time Tom came close he was fade away like a ghost, and trying to remember the last life he lived when he had moved on to his next was like trying to cup water in his hands.
Everything came to a cusp when Tom was reborn in his next life doom to end in tragedy as he could feel like one was different. He was born as a girl, as a Muggleborn girl with red hair. Lily was the Muggleborn's name. He lived her life befriending a little half-blood boy, attending Hogwarts and watched a war begin to brew.
Tom had to watch as countless were courted to follow the Monster, watching it drag them into darkness. He met Dumbledore, he married, and he fought with the light to overcome the monster without victory. Then he had a child, and as soon as he laid eyes on the green-eyed boy, he knew this was Harry.
Tom knew he never truly felt the emotion of the person whose life he was forced to experience only a shadow of it. When his heart swelled with love for the first time in his existence, he wasn't sure how to handle it. It took Tom a long time before he could understand that love was the emotion he was truly feeling, as he couldn't remember a time when he felt anything other than despair and fear.
Tom didn't know where the love came from, but he didn't find himself caring as it felt so good to be able to experience it. Loving little Harry felt like drinking water after years of drought, it was what his soul needed but it still didn't make him whole.
Harry Potter, he knew the little green-eyed boy when he was alive, he was certain. Tom wondered if he would ever be able to relive his own life, to learn who he was and why he deserved an afterlife of such misery. Tom felt a sinking pit of fear growing in his stomach but refused to analyze the feeling, he was afraid of what he might find if he looked behind that curtain.
The monster would kill Harry, the thought struck Tom, leaving him breathless. The monster killed his loved ones in every life he led, it was inevitable that the Monster would come for Lily Potter and her son as well, Tom wouldn't be living her life if it didn't.
It wouldn't take Harry. The resolution Tom felt down to his very core even shocked himself with its intensity. He would protect this boy with everything he had, even if that meant facing the monster and being swallowed out of existence. If there was one meaningful thing Tom could do in all these lifetimes, in all this misery, it was to save Harry.
If the real Harry was still out there somewhere in the land beyond death, still living then Tom would save him here. He understood now those who had plead for the monster to spare their loved one's lives before their own, it was as easy as breathing when he really thought about it.
When the monster finally came for them, Tom had expected his fate. He could feel it arrive, more real than in any lives he had lived before. The monster's essence was like tar, spreading and tarnishing everything it came close to. This was everything culmination of his afterlife, this was why he was living countless lives of others to be ready to make the right decision.
Tom stood before Harry, feeling the monster draw ever nearer. He was not Lily Potter, he was Tom Marvolo Riddle, and this was his choice. He was choosing love, he realized with surprise, even though he had no understanding of what the emotion truly meant before Harry. If he stood aside, then he could remain forever. The monster could not truly destroy Tom's soul if he didn't allow it, but he still stood his ground before Harry.
He steeled his heart as he felt the monster just beyond the door and thought of nothing aside from the Green-eyed-boy.
He did not turn away from the monster this time.
Tom felt his world shift and he looked up, expecting to find the monster of his nightmares but was shocked to see Lily Evans, standing before a crying Harry and pleading for his life.
Confusion filled Tom and he couldn't understand what was going on. He tried telling her no he would never hurt Harry, he loved Harry. That isn't what he did.
Horrified, Tom was helpless as the monster demanded Lily move out of the way, it was only there for the boy. No, no, no, Tom screamed without sound as it raised its wand to Lily. With a flash of green light, she was laying on the floor with the ghost terror still on her face. Tom felt something in him break and he couldn't understand the emotion flowing through him, he wanted to save her, he wanted to save them both.
He wanted to run to Lily and shake her awake, but he couldn't move.
Tom's anguish multiplied as the monster stepped over Lily's dead form, to Harry.
Why couldn't he do anything? He screamed but nothing could be done.
It was when he stopped and looked to his side, he saw his reflection the wardrobe mirror.
Red eyes peered back at him.
He was standing where the monster stood. His head would cock when he monsters did. Then it all made sense.
This is why he was forced to live through all of these lives, they were his victims in life. His retribution was to live the fear they felt, the despair they felt.
He killed Lily and he was about to kill Harry, he was the monster.
No! No, no, no! He screamed, sudden realization hit him and it the barriers fell. Everything came flooding back. Voldemort, the Death Eaters, Harry Potter, he remembered it all in a rush of memories and emotions. It was him; he was the monster. He had killed all those people, he killed everyone he ever cared about, and it was him who was trying to kill Harry!
Tom couldn't process it as everything that was Voldemort flooded him and he felt the true, raw shame of all the lives he destroyed. He couldn't process it, he had to turn it off, but it wouldn't go away! Every scream, every plead for mercy ignored, all the lifeless eyes bore into him without any barrier to break the pain.
The pain he felt was more excruciating than he had ever dared to imagine, and he wondered if his soul itself was dying, what little bit of dust was left of it.
Tom watched as he raised his wand to Harry, who stared right back up at him with eyes no infant should possess. Voldemort could not hear him plead for Harry's life, and Tom felt Voldemort's absolute hatred flow through him for this innocent child but also his fear. How could this small, insignificant child be prophesized to be HIS downfall?
He began to utter the curse that would kill Harry and steel his fate as the monster for eternity, helpless to stop himself.
At that moment, he realized he did not fear death, true death. Voldemort died when he did, and would give up the last shreds of his soul for the boy who lived.
Tom wasn't sure how he did it, how he reached inside himself and grasped ahold of the love he felt for the boy who killed him, but he held onto it with everything he had. He thrust himself forward, into the grasp of the monster and screamed "NOT HARRY!" Using every bit of love he could muster, he forced the monster back.
The killing curse struck Harry and rebounded.
Tom felt himself get torn apart, swallowed whole. Then there was nothingness.
"Tom, I must say you have surpassed everything I thought you capable of, everything I hoped for you." Dumbledore's voice pierced the nothingness.
Tom opened his eyes and wondered for a moment if he would find himself deep in hell, but he found himself back in Kings Cross station. The first thing he realized, was that the pain in his body was gone. He wasn't torn, his pieces had found their way back to each other and it had been the most excruciating thing he had ever felt.
"You faced who you once were and you came back whole," Dumbledore continued with merriment. Tom knew he should feel hatred of a sort towards the old wizard who he had once despised, but he didn't have the same hatred deep within himself as he used to, much to his surprise.
"It doesn't really matter, does it." He replied dejectedly, "I still tried to kill Harry anyway. Nothing I did mattered; I couldn't stop Voldemort-myself. I couldn't stop myself." Tom felt bitterness rise in him.
"Of course it mattered, Tom." Dumbledore admonished, "You did something you would have never been capable of doing. Knowing full well who Harry was, who you were, you chose love."
"And it lit my soul on fire," Tom replied, cringing at the memory.
"That wasn't just love that did that, Tom, you may not realize it, but you did something I never realized was possible. You felt regret, Tom. You were faced with what you have done, and you overcame it." Dumbledore praised.
"It destroyed me, Dumbledore." He said solemnly. Silence stretched between the two. Tom did not feel bitter or angry, he felt drained and tried to clear his mind as the ever-present shame threatened to over-whelm him again. He wondered idly if a train would come by before thinking better, there was nothing waiting for him beyond.
Dumbledore hummed quietly and followed his gaze to the train tracks. "I meant to ask you Tom, where would you say we are?"
"Wouldn't you be the one to know that? You're the one who was here waiting for me." Tom replied without malice.
"I can assure you Tom; this is entirely your party so-to-speak." Dumbledore smiled softly.
Tom shrugged, "Kings Cross."
Dumbledore hummed in surprise, looking thoughtful.
"That's curious, don't you think?" Tom asked, surprised that the afterlife would be a train station.
Dumbledore gave him a knowing look that made him uncomfortable. "Actually, if I think about it, it doesn't seem curious at all." He paused, leaving Tom extremely confused. "Did you stop to think why you feel the way you do for Harry, Tom?"
The emotions he felt for Harry rushed back into Tom like a tidal wave, both his and Voldemort's from his last life. "We killed each other; I don't know what you want from me Dumbledore."
"Do you believe you and Harry were meant to destroy each other, as the prophesy foretold so long ago?" Asked Dumbledore.
Tom wanted to say yes but deep within himself he knew it wasn't true, from the same place his love for the boy sprouted. He opened his mouth, but he couldn't say anything. He wasn't Voldemort, not any longer and he wasn't sure he was Tom Riddle anymore either. So much hatred and anger had been burnt away, leaving so many emotions he had never felt before. Tom hadn't been able to process the emotions left in him; he hadn't had time to find himself yet.
"If I could go back and go through it again, I wouldn't have tried to kill Potter." Tom replied quietly, answering honestly.
The old man hummed and seemed pleased enough with Tom's answer.
"There's no way to go back, is there? To live my life again?" Tom asked suddenly, hopefully.
Dumbledore smiled sadly and shook his silver head, "As many lives as it would save, no one gets a do-over, Tom. However," Dumbledore said pensively, "I could show you what would have happened if you had chosen other paths other than splitting your soul, other lives you could have lived."
Tom cringed at the mention of splitting his soul and frowned, "But how can I find peace knowing what could have been?"
Dumbledore didn't answer for some time, humming to himself. "I believe if you truly desire to move on, you can board a train."
"Where would I go?"
"On." Dumbledore answered quietly, and Tom felt some annoyance at the obscurity of his response.
Tom thought about what that would mean for a long time, to be able to have an afterlife. Then he looked back up at Dumbledore quickly, "What about Harry?"
"What about Harry, Tom?" Dumbledore replied with an odd twinkle in his eye that Tom had never seen before.
Tom paused, not knowing exactly what he was asking. Everything came down to Harry. "What happens to Harry? Will he be there?"
Dumbledore smiled, "One day I am sure Harry will arrive. When, I am not sure."
Tom stopped to think about his response, thinking about the green-eyed boy. "The lives I could have lived, they all involve Harry, don't they?"
Dumbledore got to his feet and stood before Tom, holding out his hand, "I can show you, I'm afraid it will do more justice than a narrative."
Tom considered Dumbledore's extended hand warily, wondering if he was about to make a grave mistake. He had to find out how he and Harry were connected, how he possibly could have felt an emotion such as love so suddenly and strongly. Tom sent a look down the tunnel, wondering if he should move on and leave Harry be. A strong feeling of nausea passed through him and he knew he couldn't leave, he wasn't ready.
Nervously, he rose to his feet and placed a hand in Dumbledore's, feeling immensely uncomfortable.
Dumbledore shot him a wink before the world twisted around Tom and disappeared.
It was different than living the lives as other people, he wasn't living as his alternative self. He was like a ghost, standing with Dumbledore as screens played before him like Muggle Cinema at high speed. Tom wasn't sure how, but he was retaining every story and felt every emotion his counterparts felt. Tom felt himself gasp in awe, watching hundreds of lives he could have lived with Harry. Every moment burnt itself in his soul.
Lives where Harry was his lover, his husband, his partner, others where Harry was his best friend, in some Harry was his companion. Flashes of green eyes and broad smiles that warmed him to his core, laughter that made Tom want to cry out of happiness. Years he watched with Harry, of love and heartbreak and trust and desire. It made Tom feel whole in a way that he had never encountered before, even now with his soul intact.
Tom finally understood.
The realization brought Tom to his knees, emotion so great that it over came him, and he touched his cheeks to feel wetness.
"Harry and I have a soul-bond, our souls are perfectly matched, perfectly balanced." Tom uttered in sheer awe, although he couldn't bring himself to utter the word soul-mate even though that's the only word that fit fully. This was why he had made Harry a Horcrux in his past life instead of the closest object, his soul fragment was drawn to the soul that so perfectly matched his. Dumbledore laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed in response.
Suddenly, it all stopped, and Tom found himself calling out for Harry before he could stop. He stayed on his knees, trying to process the new discovery. But it wasn't a discovery, Tom thought with all certainty, his soul had always felt it, he had always known to some extent. He couldn't pass on; he couldn't board a train. Tom thought that he was content with passing on, but he wasn't, and this experience had solidified that for him.
"I need to get to Harry, I need to go back." Tom stated confidently, rising to his feet and facing Dumbledore. "I need to go back for Harry."
Dumbledore regarded Tom sadly, looking him up and down before softly replying, "You know that is not how it works, Tom."
"It has to be!" Tom growled. "We never got a chance, Dumbledore, and you know it. I had nothing and no one, you treated me like a monster when you could have tried to save me."
Dumbledore wasn't fazed by his outburst and Tom wondered if this was truly the real Dumbledore that greeted him in the afterlife. He shook his head sadly, "You still do not understand, Tom."
Tom wanted to throw something, to break something, to force Dumbledore to be fair.
That's when the realization hit him.
He didn't deserve it.
Tom never gave others second chances; he chose death and cruelty every single chance he got. Tom was not merciful, he caused senseless violence and death to fuel his own hatred. That hatred was burnt out of him and all that was left were the coals of a fire long sense extinguished. If he had chosen love once, been merciful when Lily pleaded for her son's life then he could have been saved and had a life with Harry. He was too blinded by his fear of death.
Tom didn't deserve Harry.
He dropped back down to his knees and punched the floor as hard as he could to try to lessen the pain in his heart, but it did nothing. He cried out in anguish and gazed down the tunnel, to the beyond. He truly felt broken, he was shattered.
"Ahh, that's it," Dumbledore said softly. "Now you are ready." He motioned to the train that had arrived silently.
Tom turned his tear-stained face up to Dumbledore, "You have never passed on, have you? You truly don't know what lies beyond, you're not ready."
"Tom, to the organized mind death is but the next greatest adventure." Dumbledore replied with a twinkle in his eye, "But I will admit that I did have some business I needed to see to the end."
Tom nodded, not pushing for more information he wouldn't receive. "Will Harry be okay?"
Dumbledore smiled and nodded slowly, "Yes Tom, I can assure you Harry will have a good life and meet death willingly when he is ready."
Tom smiled, small comfort filling his chest thinking of the good life Harry will have, willing himself to accept that he won't be in it. Harry will never know what could have been, he'll never be plagued by ghosts of lives he could have lived, like Tom will be.
"Shall we board then?" Tom asked sadly, extending his arm. He needed to leave; the despair was threatening to tear him apart again.
It was finally time that Tom Riddle accepted death.
Dumbledore grasped his arm, giving him the truest smile Tom had ever received from the man.
As they were about to board the train, Tom turned to look at one of the greatest enemies he ever had. "Dumbledore?"
"Yes Tom?" The old man asked pleasantly.
Tom opened his mouth, wanting to say something along the lines of 'sorry for everything' but unable to find the right words. He shut his mouth and gave the man a slow nod instead.
Dumbledore nodded back with a twinkle in his eye.
Together they boarded the train to the beyond.
*A/N – Epilogue because I CANNOT leave it at that.*
Tom opened his eyes to pure darkness and confusion, he smelled earth and felt it all around him. He was buried in the ground. Tom truly must have made it to hell Afterall.
Gasping for what little air was in the tiny grave, he started digging, covering himself with more dirt as he struggled. After a minute of struggling he was starting to believe he would suffocate from lack of air. Can you die again once you're already dead? Tom thought in panic.
As he was getting desperate, his hand popped out of the dirt to air, and he quickly pulled himself out.
Coughing, he got to his feet noticing he was in a graveyard. This was the graveyard his muggle family were buried in, he turned to look at his father's grave that he had once desecrated in life. He looked around for Dumbledore before notice the warm, sweet air he was breathing in. He realized he hadn't actually breathed since he had died.
With a jolt, Tom pressed two fingers to his pulse point quickly.
He had a pulse; his heart was beating.
Tom quickly whirled around to see the grave he had been buried in. It was marked by a modest cross that read:
Here lies Tom Marvolo Riddle
May his name never be spoken in fear again
Tom ran his fingers over the cross, marveling at his ability to feel again and knew he would never take it for granted. Harry wrote this, Tom thought in awe. The soil above his grave appeared to be in the first stages of sprouting grass seedlings, it couldn't have been very long since the Battle of Hogwarts, he gaped as his time in the afterlife seemed like millennia.
Harry! Tom thought, this was it. Dumbledore gave him a second chance.
Tom fell to the ground and ran his hands through the dirt and grass in awe. He could feel, truly feel again.
On instinct, he reached into his pocket and felt a something in there that definitely hadn't been there before. He pulled out the Deathly Hallows pendant and ran his thumb over it, silently thanking Dumbledore.
He got to his feet and washed his hands in a puddle, noticing he no longer looked like a monster. He had his body back to what he was before he had first split his soul, he was 15 and whole and sane.
Tom smiled and got to his feet, placing the pendant around his neck. It was fitting, as Harry was the true master of death.
Tom began walking towards town.
I'm coming for you, Harry. Tom thought with determination like steel. I'll always come back for you.