Hi! English isn't my first language, so there could be some mistakes in here.

Basically, this is one of those time travelling stories in which Harry goes back in time to raise Tom Riddle. There will be a lot of angst in here, but also some fluff and family feels. There is also occasionally some humor, too. I'll try to keep both Harry and Tom IC, but it could be that they are sometimes a bit OOC.

I hope you will enjoy it, given that I'm not exactly the best writer in the world and such. Tips and suggestions are definitely welcome, flames not. Don't like, don't read.

Everytime Harry closed his eyes he could see professor Dumbledore fall again. And hear it too - a soft rustle of clothing when his mentor slowly fell backwards over the cold stones of the tower. And before that the quiet begging directed at Snape.

Harry fumed when he thought about that and clenched his fists. From the corner of his eye he could see Ginny looking at him while the tears streamed down her freckled face. He was tempted to brush them away and draw het into an embrace, but he refrained from doing that at the last moment. He was almost mad with grief and anger himself and he knew that Ginny would sense it and only get more worried about him.

Yes, they all worried about him. Ginny, Ron, Hermione. Dumbledore had worried about him constantly and look how that had worked out for him. It almost seemed that that was their destiny; to die horribly, all because of him.

Harry unclenched his fists when the funeral was over and stood up. He ignored the looks of his friends and mumbled that he wanted to go on a walk for a bit. Alone.

He slowly made his way through the row of people who all had come to pay the last respects to the man who was definitely one of the greatest wizards of all time. But almost none of them, not even Harry, had ever truly known Albus Dumbledore.

And now he's locked up in a white tomb. Cold and alone. His wisdom forever closed off for the outside world.

Harry tried the swallow the lump in his throat away, but it hurt to much. Tears were burning in his eyes so he kept his head low to shield them from everyone. He quikened his pace when the rows of people seemed to go on endlessly and finally he reached the back of the crowd. He let go of a breath he did not know he was holding in and let the tears stream down his face. His fists were clenched again by the time he reached the tree by the lake where he always used to sit with his friends. He sat down behind the tree, so he would be blocked from view.

The Giant Squid was dozing in the sun in the middle of the lake and for a moment Harry wished the two of them could trade places. Hell, he would like to be anyone but himself for once. Of all the people on the planet he had to be the Chosen One. A title and role he did not ask for when he came into this world as a baby. All he ever wanted was to be normal. But Harry had to face reality and accept that he wasn't normal at all and that would never change, no matter how hard he wished.

"He won't get away with this, professor," he said quietly to a patch of grass by his feet.

"You trusted him but he killed you without blinking an eye. Guess you weren't that smart after all, were you now?"

His voice trembled with emotion, but he ignored it. There wasn't anyone around. For just a moment he was alone in the world.

"You always tried to see the good in people, but it turned out to be the end of you. All because of your sentiment and trusted Snape, you trusted Wormtail and you even trusted Voldemort. If only you killed Tom Riddle before he became what he now is. Then all this pain and suffering in the world would have never become reality. And you and my parents would still be alive."

Harry became silent again when he heard people approaching. He quickly brushed away all the remaining tears and tried to smooth down his forever unruly hair and gave up after a few seconds.

"Harry."

Harry blinked and looked up at the face of professor McGonagall. Her piercing eyes were softened as she looked down at him through her glasses and Harry averted her eyes, afraid that he would start crying again at the slightest provacation.

"I know that you are absolutely not in the mood to talk about him right now, but-"

She breathed in through her nose and Harry discovered to his embarrassment that there were tears gleaming in her eyes as well.

"Albus - Professor Dumbledore - had a proposition for you. If something were to happen to him I had to immediately inform you of this. But I thought it would be better to wait until after the funeral. Again, I know that this is an extremely poor choice of time, but it is urgent. Will you follow me to Professor Dumbledore's chambers?"

"I- Okay. If it's urgent, then... Yes."

Harry did not know what to think of all this as he followed Professor McGonagall to the castle while he felt hundreds of eyes following his every move. He already knew that Dumbledore had a plan and what he wanted Harry to do. So what was all this about?

Whatever Harry thought at that time, it was definitely not this. But here he was: London in 1927, standing in the rain before Wool's Orphanage with a piece of paper in his left hand and a suitcase in the other and his head spinning with doubts and above all: revenge.