An Ally

Chapter 5

Harry's eyes widened at the two words. Such ordinary words with such a strong meaning behind them.

Tom? He waited for a reply, hardly daring to breathe. He couldn't believe the absurdity of the situation. If it really was Voldemort communicating with him through this journal, then why hadn't he found a way to kill him off yet? He didn't know if he was happy or upset that he was still alive. Perhaps he was waiting to find something to use against him.

But that was ridiculous. Harry had practically spelled out all the horrible things that he had endured while he was here. That in and of itself was fuel enough to keep the papers busy for months, let alone for bringing down the morale of the witches and wizards fighting against Voldemort. How could their precious savior be tarnished in this way? Soiled, never to be innocent again. If he were looking for something to use against Harry and Dumbledore's side of the war, then surely he had more than enough fuel.

He blinked as he realized no matter the motives, he had grown to enjoy the conversations they had. And what did that say about how he felt? He had grown to somewhat trust this person on the other end of the journal.

Yes, I suppose you can call me Tom. It's much better than that cringy name an idiot teenager created. Voldemort, seriously what was I even thinking? And death eaters? Could I have been any more cliche? The ink appeared faster now, rushed almost. If you wish for me to leave you be, I will burn my journal that is linked to yours. I understand if you no longer wish to continue with our communications.

No, that's alright. You can be manipulative but...something is telling me that you're sincere within our messages to one another. Call it instinct I suppose. So far it hasn't let me die, even though you should have been able to kill me several times over.

Harry...I am sorry. It seems I was truly insane at one point thinking that a mere baby would hurt me. I am glad you defeated me. I needed a reality check and Merlin knows everyone over the age of three wouldn't have given it to me. A brief pause. I am so sorry I took your parents away. I cannot repay you for what I stole, and only wish that one day you may be able to forgive a crazy, power hungry lunatic of the past.

Harry's answer was immediate. He didn't even need to think about it.

But Tom, I had already forgiven you. People learn, they grow and collect new morals and learn from their mistakes. I've learned from others that my parents weren't really that memorable. My father played pranks and took his jokes too far on certain people and my mother was kind with pretty eyes. No one knows their favourite pastimes, what made them happy and what made them cry. No one knows what they believed in, what they found hope in. They remember my parents because their child was the Boy Who Lived. I don't remember them, I was too young. I forgave you for a lot of what you did back then, especially since you've returned and kept your masses under control. There's less violence now than there was when you were gone. I can't hate you for keeping things under control this time.

Harry's stomach growled, the pain shooting to his entire body.

Harry, listen to me very carefully. I understand if you want to stay in your circle of friends and with Dumbledore's side of things, but you need to be removed from your situation. It isn't healthy for you there.

I'm fine. I've been fine this long, what's another few weeks?

LOOK AT YOUR ARMS HARRY. THAT'S NOT FINE. THAT'S NOT THE SIGN OF A GOOD LIVING SITUATION. HAVE YOU EVEN LOOKED AT YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR LATELY? Harry flinched, the unexpected outburst bleeding into the paper like it would never go away. I don't mean to yell at you, but you are withering away to nothing. At least let me come to you. You don't have to come with me when I depart, but I would at least appreciate a moment to talk to you. Face to face.