Chapter 1: The Dreams

Disclaimers: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters.

Warning: A slightly different Harry who is a little dark. Boy/Boy pairing but nothing more than kissing. Character death. Not a live-happily-ever-after story.

-O.o.O-

Harry James Potter opened his emerald eyes to find that he was sweating all over. Cursing under his breath, he sat up and looked for his glasses blindly in the darkness. Suddenly, he heard a sound of shattering glass after carelessly knocking over something with his hand.

"Sh-" He muttered. Rubbing his eyes, his shaky fingers finally caught his wand.

"Lumos."

With a spark of white light shinning softly from the tip of the wand, he looked down to his bedside table. The pair of old black-rimmed glasses was still lying on it, but the small vial which was supposed to be standing beside the glasses was already gone. He stared down at the broken pieces and the splattered Dreamless Potion on the ground, sighing heavily.

He didn't know what had been wrong with him these days. His dreams kept stirring in his mind, pulsing and creaking over and over again, telling him about the endless happiness in a rather sexy voice. Every day he tried very hard to forget about them, but every night he still let himself sink deeply into the dreams. He had been confused to see his unfamiliar counterpart growing up with a dark-haired boy; he had been stunned to see himself falling in love with that teen; and he had watched them hugging each other, blushed and excited.

The cello-like voice echoed near his ears, calling from inside of his body, "Harry... Harry..."

In the dreams, they had talked and laughed together as if they had known each other for many years. They had sat side by side on the seaside, watching the beautiful sunset. They had held hands beneath the stars, looking at each other like they were a couple. He had absolutely no idea about how this was happening.

The dreams felt so real. He could even see that boy's dark eyes reflecting his own image, could even smell the scent of salty sea water when they were sitting on the beach, could even touch the soft golden sand at their feet. He did not want to admit it, but...

He was so fascinated by the dreams.

Falling in love with a boy was bad, and falling in love with a boy in a dream was even worse. However, the worst part of everything was that the boy who had been together with him all the time in the dreams was not a stranger.

No, not a stranger at all. Harry could even call him an "old friend", perfect.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, a.k.a. Lord Voldemort.

'Oh great, wasn't that the best thing ever?' Harry thought sarcastically before throwing himself into the bed with a groan and trying to get some more sleep before the dawn.

-O.o.O-

Voldemort paced restlessly around the room. A rush of flowing emotion had just come through the connection between the Potter brat and himself. He wondered what exactly had happened to that raven-haired kid, because actually he had never felt anything about Potter from the connection before. He had always been the one sending Images and false messages to Potter. Now this was something unexpected... Gazing at the burning fireplace in this thought, he heard a group of footsteps coming from the door.

"My Lord."

He turned to look at the blond with silver-grey eyes. The man was pale and absolutely nervous. Being summoned by the Dark Lord for no reason was mostly not a good thing and he knew that well.

"Lucius," Voldemort hissed quietly, blood-red eyes glowing in the dim light, "I have a special task for you..."

-O.o.O-

It wasn't until ten o'clock that Harry finally woke up again. Luckily it was Saturday, or he would be in serious trouble for not showing up in his classes on time. Ron was already gone, perhaps out dating someone near the lake. Grabbing his glasses and shirt, he yawned drowsily and tried hard to think clearly. The dormitory was unsurprisingly empty, much to his relief. He began to take off his blue-stripped pajama as quickly as possible and then...

- Have anyone told you that your body looks kind of sexy? -

Harry froze when he heard the whisper, his hands stopped in the air. - Wh-what? - He answered unconsciously, not noticing that he actually didn't ask the question out loud, then immediately looked around. The dormitory was still deserted as before, which meant that voice just came from nowhere...

- Who the hell are you? - Annoyed, he asked impatiently, but the tone gave his anxieties away.

- Why not have a guess, Harry Potter? - The voice came and he finally realized that whoever that person was, they were communicating in his own mind, through some sort of connection. There was only one possible explanation since he had heard that voice a thousand times in his dreams. The voice was charming and attracting. However, considering the speaker was probably his archenemy, he really didn't want to hear it at this moment.

Harry swallowed before clenching his fists. - Voldemort.- Hatred flooded into his chest and he felt like he was on fire, burning with anger and the desire to revenge.

And then there was silence. He almost thought that the other had already left until the voice appeared again after a while with a soft chuckle, - Close enough, but nope. Sorry to disappoint you. -

- What do you mean? Come on, stop playing innocent. We both know who you really are. The only question left is what do you want from me, - He snorted, sitting down on his bed again, - or did you really expect me to believe your stupid little lie? I didn't know the Dark Lord was such an optimist. -

- Look, I swear, I know there is a person called Voldemort because I heard that name many times from you, but I have absolutely nothing to do with him. Not from what I can still recall in my memory anyway. -

Harry's eyes widened with astonishment while his hatred and anger were slowly fading away, but he was still wary enough to make sure, - Wait... What is your name? -

- Tom Marvolo Riddle, I woke up and that was the only thing I could remember, at first. Then I saw everything through your eyes but could not make any contact or talk to you till today. Do you know what happened to me? - The reply came without any hesitation.

- And why should I believe your story? How do I know if you are not Voldemort, lying to me? -

- Lying? What for? - Riddle said playfully, amused, - If I were that person you are talking about, do you seriously think I would bother spending a long time to make up some weird stories that you won't even believe and try to convince you? That really sounds like a terrible plan. -

- Merlin's beard... - Groaning, Harry banged his head on the desk, finally understanding what was happening.

All right, now he was having an amnesic Dark Lord in his head, like watching himself being buddies with his greatest foe in the dreams was not creepy enough. The Goddess of Destiny obviously loved him very much.

-O.o.O-

- What are you, exactly? - Harry asked this particular question for the third time while heading to the DADA class. Thank Merlin for allowing them to have their nice little chat without being noticed by anybody else, or almost all the students and teachers would probably decide that The Chosen One had finally lost his mind.

- I have answered that question twice before, Golden Boy. My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle and I was a fifth year student from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I had been sorted into Slytherin. One day I was writing my one of my O. W. L.s exams when I passed out. And here I was, trapped in your mind, - The voice replied wearily, seeming to get tired of his endless questioning.

- How long have you been here? I mean, when did you get into my head? Okay, this sounds kind of scary. -

- Since I arrived here while you were being sorted, and now you are sixteen... About five years, I suppose, - The velvet voice sounded really fascinating.

- And you just lived with me for more than five entire years! You must be kidding... Don't you eat or drink anything? Oh, never mind. I forgot that you were inside of my head. That also means you don't age and you will be fifteen years old forever, Merlin knows how Jealous I am, - Harry mocked.

- Oh, shut up, The-Boy-Who-Lived-to-be-Noisy as they call you,- Riddle mocked back. Harry was sure that he was laughing silently, or rolling his eyes.

- So why couldn't you talk to me before? - He couldn't help but asked.

- How should I know? This is your mind after all. Did anything happen before you heard me for the first time? -

- Oh, the dreams! Were they your doings? - Harry asked suspiciously. He still couldn't believe Riddle, Voldemort was his enemy after all and he was not that gullible.

- What dreams? I don't really know what you are talking about. -

Harry snorted with disbelief, - Give me one reason not to tell Dumbledore about your existence right now. -

- Well, I actually have two. First of all, you really want to give others another reason to think that you are insane? Dumbledore will trust you, for sure. But what will he do to me? More importantly, to you? If he found out I'm inside of your head all along, will he still trust you? Last year he let Snape teach you when he knew about your mental connection with Voldemort, which turned out to be a terrible decision and didn't help anyway. How do you know what he will do this time? -

- Fair enough, I got to admit that you have a point. - Harry muttered, - and what's the second reason? -

- Secondly... Your greasy-haired teacher is staring at you for not paying the slightest attention to his class and I think he is really mad at you right now, so it won't be a very good idea to leave and talk to Dumbledore at this moment, will it? -

Harry looked up quickly to see The One-time Potions Professor's furious glare in time. Also, his two closest friends were both looking at him in concern. "Potter, answer my question NOW!" Severus Snape snarled, there were sparks of wrath in his obsidian-like eyes.

"Er... Sorry sir, I beg your pardon?" He asked warily, and was not surprised to see the man's eyes narrowing to slits at him.

"Detention after school, Mr. Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor for not listening to the teacher carefully. Come to my office at six o'clock and no excuses, understood?"

"Yes... Sir." Merlin, Harry rolled his eyes. Sometimes he really wanted to punch the big bat right in the face. But since this time he had it coming and it was apparently no one else's fault, he had to accept the consequences.

It seemed that his bad luck was never going to end.

-O.o.O-

- I don't like him, - Riddle said inattentively.

- Who? You mean Snape? Oh, great. Because neither do I, - Striding to his room, Harry whispered in his mind.

- Why do you even allow them to call you The-Boy-Who-Lived or The Chosen One? Those nicknames sound silly. -

- Yeah, I'm with you, - Harry agreed. - But somehow my opinion doesn't matter very much these days. Don't you dare call me by those names again! I prefer Potter. Or Harry, if you want, - He added.

- Call me with my first name, then. I don't like it though, - Riddle decided after a moment.

- Why don't you like your own name? I like Tom, it's simple and it sounds good. -

- You won't say that when you know how many Toms there are in this country, - Riddle said, a little disgusted. - This causes problems, obviously. But if you insist then that's fine, it's not like anyone else is here to listen to our conversation. -

- All right, Tom. You said that you see everything through me... -

- That's right. I see what you see, I hear what you hear, I feel what you feel. I always do. -

- Then how about telling me your stories?-

-Why should I? I am a Slytherin after all and a Slytherin has secrets. -

- Come on, everyone has secrets. Now you saw mine and that's not fair for me. -

Then there was silence. Harry didn't have a clue about why he was talking to Tom Riddle, the boy who would have become a heartless monster and the boy who would have killed his parents in cold blood along with hundreds of innocents if he had not been trapped in Harry's mind. Nor did he know why he wanted to learn more about the other's life and experiences. Perhaps those weird dreams had changed his mind a bit, or perhaps he could feel that they were extremely similar in some way.

After a while, Riddle finally started speaking again, - I was born in an orphanage. My mother was a witch, a descendant of Salazar Slytherin. My father was... a muggle who abandoned my mother after she had got pregnant. And my mother died giving birth to me. I had never seen my father in my life, and I never stopped looking for him until I found out his identity and decided that I didn't care. As a result I grew up in the bloody orphanage where everyone called me a monster or a freak. I did hurt them sometimes, but that was always after they had done the same to me. - He said quickly and unwillingly, obviously not wanting to share the story of his past.

- But you certainly knew that you were not a monster, so why not just ignore them? - Harry asked. He was listening to the story very carefully.

- Of course I would learn that after getting into Hogwarts, but it was different at that time. I was so afraid, so scared, and so terrified that I agreed with them. - Riddle said quietly.

- What do you mean? -

- They told me that I was a monster, so I believed them and became a monster; they told me that I was a worthless freak, so I thought about myself as a worthless freak; they said that I was cold and cruel, so I chose to become cold and cruel. After I had been sorted into Slytherin it was still the same. They told us that we were mean and cunning, so we had to become mean and cunning. People become what they are in other people's eyes. They become what they are told they are, and think that's exactly what they should be, as simple as that. -

Harry didn't say anything, because he had had the same feeling before, too. When he had been living with the Dursleys, he had thought, though he had never told anyone, that he was a freak and was meant to be treated that way. That was why he felt so startled and shocked when he knew about his true identity.

- You know what, Tom, I think we are more similar than what I thought. So why don't we try to get along with each other since you can do nothing except for talking to me? - He said to Riddle in his mind.

- Aren't we getting alone quite well with each other? - Riddle questioned after a pause.

Harry smirked, pushing the door to his room open.

- Yes, indeed. -

Author's Note:

Hi everyone! This is my first fan fiction written in my life. I have posted the same story in Hogwarts Extreme but it's still me so I guess I can post it again here. My first language is not English and I'm still in high school so please, please don't judge if my word choices or tenses are terrible. Suggestions are welcomed though and hope you like the first chapter! Just so you know, in this story Harry was beginning his sixth year at Hogwarts and hadn't had his private classes with Dumbledore, yet. Thank you for reading my story!