Summary: He had it all planned. Summon a teenage Dark Lord, kill him (preferably by strangling), then toss the dead carcass back to the past. It was a foolproof, ironclad plan. His goal: kill the Dark Lord. Even being a midget will not stop him!

Disclaimer: I own nothing~

Harry stormed through the house, his best friends scurried after him.

"Please, Harry, think first!" Hermione cried. "What you're going to do is reckless!"

"I don't care Hermione! I'll make him pay!" Harry shouted back, his voice filled with rage as he slammed the door close in front of his friends' nose and put up the most powerful wards he knew. It would even take Hermione awhile to dismantle all of them. "How dare he do that to me? I'll kill him! Kill him!"

'Kill him. Kill him. Kill him,' his mind chanted as his body was busy drawing runes and circles on the floor. He had planned this months ago but Hermione and Ron always managed to beat the sense into him. But this was the last straw. He couldn't take it anymore. The bastard! How dare he?

He deliberately ignored his friends' yells and banging. His wand lay forgotten on the floor as his hands feverishly drew the pentagram.

"Finished!" Harry said with a flourish, a maniacal grin on his face (though he would forever deny its presence) at the same time the door banged open. Hermione had successfully taken down his barrier.

Ron charged in yelling, "STUPEFY!" He would stop his best friend from making the stupidest mistake in his life!

Hermione who followed closely behind, took in the scene in a glance and promptly screamed, recognizing the diagram on the floor. Ron, no! Her hand reached out to her best friend who was crouching in the middle of the circles with wide, surprised eyes. No!

"HARRY!"

As the jet of red light passed through the array of circles, a blinding white light exploded.

When it was clear Harry Potter was nowhere to be seen. Hermione Granger could only stare in horror at the spot her best friend had once been and Ronald Weasley was left speechless.

"Oops," he finally managed.

*Page Break*

Harry woke up with a groggy mind. Where am I? Then, he saw the Entrance Hall in all its glory. He was at Hogwarts. Urgh, his head felt like some troll was doing a tap dance in it. Did Ron slip something in his drink? If he did, he swore he'll tell George he who burned half the shop down, Harry thought as he staggered towards the Great Hall. Voices could be heard from the other end. Ah, maybe they're having dinner. Madam Pomfrey must be in the Hall too, he could get some Headache Relief potion from her.

Harry tripped on his robes. Dammit, when did it get so large? It must be Dudley's. He snickered. Dudley don't wear robes, silly. He must be going mad, thinking about his long-time-no-see cousin. Harry opened the door quietly and felt his jaw dropped.

The hall was decorated with floating pumpkins and flying bats. Halloween? Last time he checked, it was still somewhere in April. His presence went unnoticed. The students and staffs were too busy talking to each other to notice the half an inch opened door. What the he– Before he could finish his thought, he caught a glimpse of a face and it wasn't any face.

It was the Face.

His memory came back in a rush and with it, understanding.

'The runes backfired,' he thought with horror. It wasn't possible. It was supposed to be the other way round. How could it be? But then, the answer dawned on him immediately. Ron. The spell he used was attuned to him, and only him. It requires his magic and when Ron's spell passed through the circles, some magical glitches happened causing the spell to backfire and sending him back to the past. Harry mourned his misfortune. Just his luck then, getting thrown to a time where his most hated person in the universe was still living, breathing and in school.

At the thought, Harry's mind halted. A savage grin appeared on his face. Heh, he may be in the past, but his enemy was a teenager. Not a Dark Lord. At least not yet, and if he had his way, the bastard will never be one.

Wasting no time, he crept stealthily towards the Slytherin table and hid under it. No one noticed him (his legendary luck kicking again) and he was glad for his stealth ability (sneaking to the kitchen in the middle of the night have its benefits).

Harry reached for his wand and frowned. His beloved wand wasn't in its rightful place, his pocket. Was it stranded back home? He vaguely remembering toss– putting it on the floor. Dismay filled him and he took a second to lament the loss of his beloved wand.

No matter, he would have to improvise. People always said he was reckless, bordering on suicidal, but they never said he wasn't adaptable. A knife on a table caught his attention and a plan began to form in his head. Brilliant! But he had to be quick. His enemy was distracted and this was his golden opportunity and possibly might be his only chance in catching Riddle unaware.

Taking a deep breath, Harry jumped out of his hideout, grabbed his intended utensil and charged towards the smiling, unsuspecting Riddle. He gave a mighty roar which caught the attention of the students nearest to him, even Riddle, making the teenage wizard turn towards him, exposing his unprotected chest. Perfect! Harry thought and leaped towards his arch enemy, stabbing the weapon in his hand straight into the prefect's blackened heart.

*Page Break*

Tom Riddle was having a satisfying day. He had finally found the Chamber of Secrets after labouring for five long years. And did he mentioned the basilisk? She was the most beautiful snake he had ever seen. It was enough to put him in a good mood for the rest of the evening. Even his 'friends' talking loudly and stupidly didn't manage to put the smile off his face.

A sudden wave of magic silenced the occupants of the Hall for just a moment. But this was Hogwarts, magical disturbances were as common as mushroom popping up after rain. The feast continued smoothly. Tom ignored the disturbance, savouring the food and his triumph until...

"RAWRRRRR!"

Reflex made Tom turned towards the source of the shrill scream. A bundle of robes was flying towards him and instinctively, he caught the thing. What in Salazar's name?

Then, he felt a strange sensation. Something blunt was being stabbed over his left chest again and again. Annoyed and irritated, he grabbed the offending piece. It was a spoon.

Seeing its weapon was stuck in his grip, the thing stopped struggling and Tom had a good look at his assailant. A questioning eyebrow was raised. It wasn't a thing. It was a boy, around the age of five to six, wearing a black robe several size too large. A fluff of messy black hair covered the head, and round glasses was perched on the face.

"What are you doing?" asked Tom. Venom present in every syllable.

*Page Break*

Harry grinned as he hit his target and, ignoring the hands that caught him, he stabbed his enemy's chest directly over the heart. Hahaha! Take that Riddle. Feel the pain as your blood burst –What? Why didn't he feel any skin broke? Where was the spurting of blood signalling the end of Riddle's life? Undeterred, he stabbed again and again, sure the skin would break any time soon. He would kill the bastard in front of him, no matter what!

A hand curled around the weapon he was holding and he struggled, trying to tug his hand free, but it was futile. The grip was too strong. Assuming someone else was holding his hand (Riddle was on the brink of death, he couldn't have any energy to breathe, let alone stopping him), Harry stopped his resistance and looked up to see the dying eyes of his enemy, smiling a bit maniacally. Goodbye, Tom Riddle. Don't worry about your body, I'll just burn it. Aragog's been craving roasted human lately.

But something was wrong... Riddle looked the same as the time when he was a memory from the diary, no hint of pain was in his eyes or face. The maniacal gleam was still there, though and the anger too.

What?

Harry's gleeful expression turned to horror as he caught sight of his weapon. A spoon? A bloody spoon? No, no, no, no, no! It was supposed to be a knife. A knife! Why was it a spoon? Even a fork would be nice.

"What are you doing?"

Harry felt his heart constricted with fear at the dangerous tone. Why was he feeling afraid? He was supposed to be immune to the Dark Lord's veiled threat by now, right? Right?

Then another revelation came to him. His hand gripping the spoon was small! Too small compared to the Dark Lord's larger hand. Did he decrease in size? Did he became a midget?

It was too much. From his foiled plan, being threatened and to his small size. The stress was too much for him. Even with the memory of being 18 years old, his mind and body was still of a five years old. Harry felt his eyes watering... and bawled.

*Page Break*

Tom watched with fascination as the small, chubby face changed from glee, to shock, dismay, fear and finally settled on a scrunched up face. To his horror, a wail came out, followed closely by tears. By now, all eyes were on them, students and staffs' alike. The future Dark Lord inwardly grimaced. He had a reputation as a perfect student to maintain, so he couldn't throttle the boy into silence.

Awkwardly, he hugged the boy to him, trapping the hands. He saw the matrons at the orphanage did the same thing to all crying children, eventhough he was never at the receiving end. But it suited him just fine since he never cried. Surprisingly, the boy buried his head in the crook of his neck. From someone who moments before had tried to kill him, the Prefect figured it was an instinctive reaction.

He patted the boy's back in circles while muttering shut up and its synonyms, sending a brief glare to his 'friends', full of silent retribution if they somehow even let a snicker out of their mouth. At the corner of his eyes, he saw his Head of House followed closely by the Headmaster and Deputy Headmaster walked towards him. Frowning, he debated his move. A plan formed swiftly.

"Shh...be quiet, silence, or I'll gag you and carve a human toy out of you. Shove some snake down your throat ..." He murmured in the boy's ears. It worked. The crying subsided until only hiccups were heard.

"Mister Riddle, please follow us," Dippet said, gesturing towards the door behind the staff table.

Tom followed the professors, still holding his assailant close.

"Tom, my boy, what seems to be the problem and who is this...little boy?" Professor Dippet asked as soon as the door closed behind them.

Tom gripped the small body closer to him and gave an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry Professor," And he spun his lie. "You know I live in an orphanage, sir. And this... is my little brother." He felt a resistance from the boy. It seemed the brat had regained his senses.

"Le–"

Swiftly using the other hand, he pressed the small head into his shoulder, effectively shutting up the midget and tightened his grip. From an outsider point of view, the gesture could be read as protective but the small body he was holding knew better. He smiled, to the unknown, with fondness but to the known, it was a sadistic smile.

"In all but blood," he continued. "His name is...Harry." A common name but it felt just right coming out of his mouth. The brat flinched. Inwardly he wondered if he guessed the name right. "He's a wizard and I presumed accidental magic brought him here, Professor."

"I see," Dippet said and frowned. "But he can't stay here, Mr. Riddle."

Tom widened his eyes, a distraught look in them, but he kept his voice calm. He couldn't act hysterical now, could he? It would be counter-productive. "But sir, please, something must have triggered this accidental magic. He appeared on Hogwarts ground, bypassing her wards, sir. I can only imagine the emotional turmoil he experienced to elicit this kind of reaction. Do you really want to send a five year old back to whatever that caused his extreme reaction?"

There, he had stressed the word five. Any morally inclined adult will have doubts sending back a little boy, who probably had just experienced a near death situation. Besides, mentioning Hogwarts' ward should be enough to show how severe the situation was.

Riddle purposely ignored his Transfiguration Professor. He knew, without looking, the usual suspicious look would be on Dumbledore's face, but if he played his cards right, it would be two professors against one. Ah... he thought and grinned inwardly. He had forgotten: Dumbledore's pathetic declaration of the power of love. Perhaps he could use that to his advantage too even though it would be difficult. That man had seen the true him, after all.

Dippet had a troubled look and Tom grasped his chance at the Professor's silence. "I promise I'll take care of him. Just till Christmas holiday, sir, then I can find some guardian for him. Please, professor, he's family."

Hearing the sincerity in the prefect's tone, Dippet and Slughorn's face soften. Tom smirked inwardly. Playing the orphan card always worked.

"Well, Armando, it will not hurt to let the boy stay here for a while, will he?" said Dumbledore, a knowing look in his eyes.

'What was that?' However, the bundle in his arm distracted him from examining further the meaning of the old fools' gaze.

At hearing the sound of the Transfiguration Professor's voice, his assailant had started to squirm, fighting to release the death grip on his head. Tom tightened his hold and whispered, "Stop that or I will make you regret it later." Promising a world of pain. The brunette in his arm stilled.

Any outsider would see a big brother calming down his dearest little brother. How easily fooled they are, Tom thought with a smirk until he felt pain on his shoulder. Did the brat just bit him? He couldn't believe it. The midget bit him! Fortunately, his mask, perfected for over five years, remained the same. He retaliated by shoving the brat's head more into his shoulder. Let him suffocate!

"It... certainly won't be harmful. But, he is under your supervision, Tom and you'll take full responsibility for the boy during his stay." Dippet acquiesced, although a bit reluctant.

"Thank you, Headmaster. If I may be excused–" Fingers clawed at his clothes. Fortunately it was thick enough that his skin wasn't broken.

"Aren't you going to ask him what happened?" Slughorn asked, thankfully at the same time he was distracted.

Tom really put up a distressed face. "Professor, do you really want to interrogate a five year old so soon after what happened? And to strangers! No, absolutely not. No one will interrogate him tonight," he said forcefully.

He didn't care if his image showed an over-protective older brother, they were just professors, easily fooled (except for one), and he just wanted to go somewhere far, preferably a Silenced room so he could Crucio the brat without any witnesses. He would show the little boy not to mess with Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Slughorn looked flustered. "Uh... I didn't mean..."

"I think it would be great if young Harry here spend the night at the hospital wing. A dose of Dreamless Sleep potion for a restful night and tomorrow, we can ask him what happened," Dumbledore cut through the reddening professor.

"Good idea!" Slughorn said jovially, seizing to the idea gratefully. "Yes, Tom, bring the boy to the hospital wing, I'm sure the nurse can take a look at him."

WHAT? NO! Curse you Dumbledore! I can't torture someone in the hospital wing! It defeats the purpose of prolonged pain.

"Certainly," Tom smiled.

"Well then, chop chop," said Dumbledore as he made a shooing motion.

*Page Break*

A warm body was holding him. Unconsciously, he snuggled deeper into the warmth. Why was he crying? He didn't mean to cry. He blamed it on stress and this pathetically small body couldn't handle it. Really, after founding out your arch enemy was your magical guardian and said enemy had made your life worse than it already was. The need for revenge had engulfed him, tiring him to his bones and then came the strain of time travelling which had apparently somehow shrunk his body, followed by the thwarting of his ultimate plan to kill the unsuspecting Dark Lord by a spoon of all things (he now officially hate spoon). The fear that had risen at seeing his arch enemy's un-uglified face. And the threat! The freaking veiled threat. A sob threatened to get out and Harry let out a miserable wail.

"Shh...be quiet...hush...gag you...carve...your throat ..." The murmured voice was much better than Uncle Vernon's shouting that unconsciously, Harry relaxed regardless of the wording.

Wait... he was missing something. And to his utmost horror, he realized he was hugging the Dark Lord. Well, more like trapped in the maniac's arms. Still, he was in the psychopath's arms. Harry knew he would have nightmares for months and he had just recovered from the Voldemort's induced ones. He struggled.

"Le–" Omph. His face was pressed against the robes. Let me go, you evil scum –

"His name is...Harry."

Harry flinched. Lucky guess, bastard.

Relax, Harry. Take a deep breath. Think first. Think before you act. What would Hermione say? 'Don't be reckless, Harry. Yes, that was certainly what she would say.

"Well, Armando, it won't hurt to let the boy stay here for a while, will he?"

Professor Dumbledore!

Harry struggled again. If anyone could get him out of this mess, it would be his Headmaster.

"Stop that or I will make you regret it later."

Regret? I'll show you regret. He bit hard into the shoulder. Hah! Take that you– Umph. His face was pressed harder, cutting off his air circulation.

Let me go, you moron. I can't breathe. Panicked, Harry scraped his fingers along the clothes. He ignored the voices floating around him. Damn, why is the robe too thick? Need to breathe. Breathe. Maybe, if he could just turn his head some five degree to the right...yes! Air.

At least he wouldn't die of suffocation.

Harry felt himself being carried away, he couldn't see but from the murmuring of students, he guessed they were passing through the Great Hall. Their eyes were practically burning holes on his back. The five year old cringed, trying to make himself as small as possible. Unconsciously snuggling deeper into the arms holding him.

The feeling of being x-rayed vanished as the large door swung shut behind him. Releasing a relieved breath, Harry promptly kneed his arch enemy's gut. A rush of released air signalled his success and the hands around him loosened. He struggled, kicked and shoved his captor away with renewed strength.

As he fell on the floor on his arse, Harry felt a sense of triumph. He managed to get away from his nemesis, again. Now, to his primary objective: destroy Riddle. First, he needed a weapon, ideally a wand. And what great fortune he had when he spotted a wand on his enemy's robes.

He charged and felt his collar being yanked away. Haha! Too late, bastard! Riddle's wand was already in his hand. Harry waved the wand.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Nothing happened. Oh, he forgot ("You need to mean them, Potter!"). He aimed the wand at the teenager's throat.

"Sectumsempra!" Heh, a slice at the neck would do since the bloody Unforgivable was useless.

Nothing happened. Harry frowned. Was the wand malfunctioning?

"Diffindo! Reducto! Incendio! Wingardium Leviosa!"

Not even a hair fluttered out of place. 'No,' he wailed, 'stupid, broken wand!'

In frustration, he threw the piece of stick at his arch-enemy. Hoping it poked the slimeball in the eye. No such luck.

Harry felt his lower lip trembled. Not again. The first time was humiliating enough. With great willpower, he bit his lip, trying to stop the trembling and opened his eyes wide, not wanting the tears to fall down.

*Page Break*

It was pathetic. Really. The lower trembling lip, biting said lip, and those big eyes. If he didn't know better, he would have said the little brat was pulling the puppy-eyes trick on him. As if a Dark Lord-to-be will fall to such ridiculous cheap trick. Tom scoffed inwardly. Maybe now he would realize his efforts are futile. The future Dark Lord dropped his attacker and wandlessly summoned his wand.

"Follow me," he ordered.

He walked to the staircase. Sensing no movement behind him, Tom turned.

The midget was still sitting on the floor.

He let out a frustrated sigh. "I said, follow me." It was a demand, using the tone only one person had ever been immune to. Alas, he was surprised yet again.

The brat stood, with his arms crossed, a defiant look on his face and a spark in his eyes.

"No."

Tom grinned inwardly. He was delighted. "Follow me," he repeated, masking his inner joy.

"Why should I?" Yes, he will savour the moment those sparks die in those pretty little eyes.

"Because you don't want to die, do you?"

The brat scoffed. "I'd rather die than follow you."

"And I'll live to see all you hold precious suffer." Well, he would certainly find those precious things in time.

Hesitation. Ah, he had hit the right button. Typical of a Gryffindor's protectiveness and stupidity. Tom smiled.

"Now come with me." The prefect turned and walked. This time he was sure the midget will trail along behind him.

Again, he was proven wrong.

"Dream on." The mocking tone was unmistakeable.

His temper flared. A wonderful plan took shape immediately and there were no eyewitnesses present. Torture him, kill him, and dump his body in the Chamber. A beautiful plan. No one knew the boy and no one will miss his absence... except of course, the professors and his lack of alibi will make him the prime suspect of a missing child. Dammit.

No physical harm since they were going to the hospital wing and the matron will definitely check the brat's physical condition. But at the thought, Tom let a smile formed on his face. Nothing was mentioned about mental health... and who said anything about not torturing someone outside the hospital wing?

He brandished his wand. "Silencio. Legilimens."

The brat was totally unprepared, he thought sadistically, enjoying the pain he inflicted on the little boy. But his enjoyment only lasted for a second. Miraculously, he had struck gold. My, my who would have thought... a stupid time traveller.

Memories passed through him and examined them like a crazy scientist examining his lab rats. Who the hell stuck his own face on another person's head? Oh, me. Isn't that the Chamber's entrance? Interesting... Dementors, dragons, chimera... the brat certainly had some talents.

Tom felt some feeble, floppy mental shield trying to come up. He brushed them aside as easily as swiping a spider web. Pathetic. And the memories continued.

Reaching the end of the brat's memories, he closed his eyes, stopping the flow of information. That was certainly...enlightening. His victim was already on the floor, passed out, hopefully from pain.

Tom picked up the unconscious bundle, his mind in a whirlwind. Prophecy and Horcruxes. It seems he needed to change his plans.

*Page Break*

The school nurse greeted them as soon as Tom opened the door to the hospital wing. Quickly he put a finger to his lips, whispering, "Shh... he has just fallen asleep."

Madam Quirke pointed towards one of the bed. She then proceeded to do some body scans on the little boy, transfiguring the large robes into a standard white hospital pyjama.

Tom watched her wave spell after spell over the small body. His face was adorned with the perfect mask of worry.

The nurse finished her diagnosis with a sigh and with a jerk of her head, she motioned for Tom to follow her.

"How is he?" Tom asked urgently as soon as they entered the office.

The nurse gave Tom a frown. "How old is he?"

"Five," Riddle said, rising his hand, palm open.

"I see."

"Madam Quirke, what's wrong with him?"

"How did he get here?" The nurse asked, completely ignoring his question.

Tom shrugged, but inwardly he was seething. Answer the damn question, woman! "I don't know but I suspect accidental magic."

The nurse nodded and then, gave Tom a level stare. "Who is he?"

"My brother, Harry."

The middle aged woman nodded absentmindedly, lost in thought.

Damn this model student charade! How he wished he could curse the witch in front of him. Alas, five years of hard work will go down the drain if he did that. "Madam Quirke, will my brother be fine?" He asked forcefully and most importantly, loudly.

His voice brought the nurse out of her musings. Seemingly startled, she gave Tom a pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry, dear. You bother's just suffering from magical exhaustion. Although it's quite a severe one, it's nothing a few nights' rest wouldn't cure. Hmm, he does seems to be a bit on the small size. Make sure he eats his vegetables during the meals. A healthy meal, mind you. Aside from that, he's a healthy young boy," Quirke finished with a wide smile.

Tom let out a relieved sigh. Fortunately, she couldn't scan the brat's mental condition. He then gave the nurse his perfect smile. "Thank you."

And like all woman, she fell for it. "It was nothing, dear. You can stay here for the night if you want."

Tom nodded his agreement. "That will be wonderful."

*Page Break*

Tom Marvolo Riddle watched his 'brother' laying unconscious on the bed quietly as his mind plotted ways to use his knowledge concerning the future. Who would have expected? The one destined to defeat him would be a mere teenager? He did have the name on the spot though. Harry. What a common name for a wizard.

Speaking of which... How on earth did he become smaller?

"You are one piece of enigma, Harry," muttered Tom.

At hearing his name, the little boy began to stir to consciousness.

He let out a befuddled, "What time izzit?"

"Three in the morning," replied Tom.

"Huh?" The green eyes were still glazed.

The teenage Dark Lord felt a sadistic glee bubbled in him. His head must feel like it's been bludgeoned many times over. He certainly felt it must be kept as long as possible. Unfortunately, the needed to question his prisoner override the urge to see the brat in prolonged pain. That was why he hated torturing someone in the hospital wing. The antidotes were too near.

Tom headed towards the potions cupboard and took a bottle of Headache Relief Potion. Wordlessly, he handed it to the child sitting on the bed.

*Page Break*

"...Harry."

At the sound of his name, Harry stirred and opened his eyes slowly. Everything was blurry and his head was pounding so much he felt like banging it at a wall. He scrunched up his face. Why did it hurt so much?

A blurry figure was at the bedside chair.

"What time izzit?" He mumbled.

"Three in the morning."

"Huh." That early? Time aside, Harry felt as if he was missing something...something important. If only his brain would stop throbbing and start working.

Faintly he heard the sound of bottles clinking together. With difficulty, he pushed his body into a sitting position. A small potion vial was handed to him.

"Thanks." Harry said thickly.

The throbbing in his head lessened but with it, the memory for the last few hours rushed back to him.

He squinted. Yes, his arch-enemy was sitting in front of him. He wouldn't mistaken the blurry face that haunted him for years, with anybody else, even if it was derived of its nose-less and baldness.

"You mind-raped me," he hissed venomously and tighten his grip on the bed sheets. What he wouldn't give for a wand right now...

He expected Riddle to reply with some kind of sadistic gloating. Or better yet, a Cruciatus Curse. On the contrary, he felt his glasses being pushed to his face.

Harry blinked. The world came into focus.

What?

"Yes, and what interesting memories you have."

Harry eyes widen as the full impact of Riddle's action hit him. "No," he choked.

The teen's eyes darken with delight. Harry felt panic and rage build up in him.

"You bastard." He balled his fist, aiming to wipe the arrogant smirk on his enemy's face.

A snap of Riddle's finger and Harry felt himself frozen. Harry sat, wide eyed. He'd forgotten the Dark Lord prowess in wandless magic. Dammit!

"Why?"

At the sound of his enemy's voice, Harry stopped his futile struggle. "Huh?"

"Why did you attempt this foolishness?"

Silence.

"It'snnotfoolish," mumbled Harry after awhile, not realizing the spell was off him.

"Then explain why did you ignorantly, recklessly go back to the past?"

"It wasn't supposed to be like that..."

"Tell me how it was supposed to be then."

"Shut up!" Harry snapped. Who do you think you are, huh? Interrogating me, you bastard? I don't owe any explanation to you! But words tumbled out of his mouth anyway (he blamed it on anger). "It WAS SUPPOSED TO BE YOU! NOT ME, YOU SLIMY PIECE OF STINKING SNAKE!" Harry roared. The hateful face in front of him just smirked.

"Really?" Tom's voice sounded pleased. It was supposed to be me? I should have been sent to the future rather than opposite then. Interesting...

Harry couldn't stand the smirking, ugly face, he charged but again, he was stopped mid-air. Struggling, Harry glared at his arch-enemy. "I hate you and I hope you die painfully!" he spat with all the venom his five year old voice could muster.

"Noted." Tom said with a smirk, dropping the midget on the bed. From what he observed, the little boy was easily riled up. "Foolish brat, to use a Time Array, just to summon a Dark Lord. All because of a moment of stupidity and recklessness, you arrived here and with no way back."

Harry bristled but kept quiet. He recognized the-mother-of-all-stupid-mistakes he had just made.

Tom inwardly gloated. Too easy.

"And do tell what will you do once I have arrived?"

Harry crossed his hands and sneered. "I'll kill you and toss your dead carcass to Hagrid's pet!"

Riddle raised an elegant eyebrow, a smirk on his lips. "My, my, bloodthirsty are we."

Harry glared. "I learnt from the best."

"Did you?"

Harry heightened his glare but kept quiet.

"I wonder... do you really have what it takes to kill me?"

"I did it once, and I can do it again."

"Then do it."

Huh? Did he hear what he just heard correctly? A Dark Lord offering himself to be killed? No way. It was his deepest wish coming true! Haha, prepare to die, bastard! Wait, there must be a catch. His enemy was cunning as a slimy snake. So, you think you can trick me this easily? Heh, I'll show you, you scumbag.

*Page Break*

Tom laid his wand on the bed.

"Then do it," he said. He watched again in fascination as disbelief, elation, suspicion, anger and finally suspicion again cross the brat's face. He does wear his emotions on his sleeve.

Slowly, inch by inch, a little hand crept towards his wand. Tom remained still. He needed his plan to work.

Suddenly, faster than the eyes could follow, the midget grabbed his wand and shouted, "Avada Kedavra."

Nothing happened.

Satisfied, Tom plucked the wand out of the brat's slackened grip casually. This was merely to show the brat he couldn't perform any Unforgivables which greatly benefits him. In the future he wouldn't have to worry about an unsuspecting Avada Kedavra flying his way.

"It's broken," the brat said, crossing his arm. Denial in every inch of his stance. Tom mentally smirked, keeping a cool facade.

"Aguamenti." Water spurts out of the wand, drenching the brunette on the bed.

"What the hell?" A very soaked Harry sputtered.

Tom raised an elegant eyebrow. "It's not broken," he said shortly. That's for stabbing me with a bloody spoon!

"You simply did not have what it takes to perform an Unforgivable," continued the teen.

"You –"

"What are you going to do now?" Tom cut through.

"Huh?" The question caught Harry off guard.

The future Dark Lord ignored the stupid reply. "You know, I could kill you right now." He caressed his wand as a glint appeared in his eyes.

"You wouldn't," sneered Harry.

"How would you know?"

Harry eyes darted towards the door, searching for escape. His eyes found the nurse's office. "I'll scream," said the five year old.

Tom identified the brat's glance and smirked. "She's deaf." Why did you think she didn't come out when you were shouting your lungs out earlier?

Dammit. Harry's heart rate increased as his death loomed nearer. Why, oh why did he have to be so impulsive? He cursed his recklessness as his mind tried to figure a way out.

"I –You –Dumbledore!" He latched to the idea of his Headmaster straightaway. "Dumbledore will know. If I went missing he will know what happened. He can see right through you, Riddle. And he's a far greater wizard than you'll ever be!" Harry couldn't resist throwing a jab at the Dark Lord.

Tom's eyes narrowed. How dare the brat insult him! He'll show the midget! Dumbledore, greatest wizard ever? Who was the brat kidding? He will surpass the old fool.

Harry watched with glee as the teen's face darkened. Hah, serves you right you scum –Ack! As fast as a enraged snake striking, the not-yet-Dark-Lord snugly wrapped his hand around Harry's neck, choking the air out of him.

Tom grinned maniacally as he squeezed, watching the brat struggle, uselessly clawing against his hand. He leaned.

"I will let you live, Harry, because you amuse me," whispered Tom. It wouldn't do if he killed the midget. The knowledge of the future was too valuable to lose. But he needed a way to prevent the brat from running to Dumbledore. "Make no mistake, if you run to your precious Dumbledore or tell anyone , I will kill you and everything you hold dear in the future. I will make sure there are no Weasleys to procreate. No Grangers living in the world and Sirius Black will be never be born. Even your grandparents will not live long enough to have a son."

"No," gasped Harry. His struggles ceased as his eyes widen with horror.

Tom smiled evilly and released his hand. He watched the brat gathered his wits and a sense of satisfaction filled him when the vivid green eyes glared death at him. Ah, he can only imagine the pleasure of having the fire in those eyes extinguished.

"I won't tell anyone," said Harry, mustering his Gryffindor bravery and any sliver of Slytherin cunning in him. "But I won't stop trying to kill you, Riddle." It was feeble attempt but deep down he knew, even if he told someone, who would believe the words of a five years old?

"And I will stop at nothing to make sure you die, painfully."

Tom smirked at the challenge. "I expect nothing less," said the teen, sealing their deal.

He would not kill the brat precious friends and in exchange, the midget wouldn't run his mouth to anyone. True, he would have to watch his back from now on but it wasn't something that he hadn't done since he first arrived at Hogwarts. Beside, having the brat's knowledge at his disposal was worth it. He would have to keep the boy close to him. Tom smiled. How hard it was to handle a five year old?

The End