Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Tom Riddle's Redemption	By : SweetHoney Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 1695 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights of Harry Potter and anything associated to it, and do not make any profit from this. My work is purely fiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Tom Riddle's Redemption
- 2-Wand
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 1
- 2
Alone in her dorm room, Honey Sheridan carefully shuffled the deck of Tarot cards in her hands and spread them on the surface of her bed. Taking a deep breath, she chose a card from the center and kept it face-down. On the count of ten, she flipped the card over and felt her heart stop. The graveyard. Again....

“Do stop torturing yourself, love,” said her grandfather from the nightstand by her bed.

Honey looked at the miniature portrait as tears welled in her eyes. Her grandfather stared back at her with concern.

“Throw that cursed deck away,” he ordered.

Honey placed the card back in the deck and picked up the portrait. It was an heirloom she'd inherited from her grandfather along with the rest of his fortune when he passed away. Made long ago when he was twenty, the frame was chipped with age and the paint was slightly faded. But that didn't distract one's eyes from the young, handsome man with bright blue eyes, who stood tall and elegant in his dark robes.

“What difference will it make?” said Honey. “I'll still die, with or without the deck. At least this way I'll see it coming.”

“Cease this talk of your death. The only death I want to hear about is Albus Dumbledore's.”

Honey mentally winced and prepared herself for the partial lie she was about to tell him. “I've been busy with schoolwork. I have O.W.L.s to study for, Grandfather.” Rubbing the round crystal tied around her neck, she gathered her courage and continued, “I – I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't kill him for you.”

Honey held her breath as her grandfather looked at her thoughtfully. For a moment she believed he would understand her words and feelings. She didn't want to kill her Headmaster. She didn't want to kill anyone, period. But it was her grandfather's dying wish that she do the deed, without his explaining the reason behind his hatred of Dumbledore. She found it difficult to convince him she wouldn't do it. Even when she outright said she wouldn't, he always found a way to guilt her back into it or ignored her words entirely.

“It's not like you don't already know what they're teaching you.”

When Honey was eleven, a large crystal sculpture had fallen on top of her and nearly killed her. She had swallowed a few glass shards, which damaged her throat, cutting blood vessels and making her into a mute. The Healers had managed to mend her physical wounds, but her psychological wounds took longer. It took four years for them to pursuade her to use her voice again. She was still learning to speak in the higher notes. She couldn't walk as fast as before or carry heavy objects, either, because the weight of the sculptures had crushed her ribs, arms, and legs, damaging her nerve endings.

During her stay at St. Mungo’s she had been home-schooled, spending most of her days and nights reading and rereading any book available. She could recite them word for word from memory. Because of that, she already knew the material her Hogwarts Professors were teaching her. She could have just taken her O.W.L.s and passed with flying colors, but she wanted the school experience, something she had been denied. Even now, she was still upset that the accident had happened right after she’d received her Hogwarts letter.

Now seventeen, she was admitted to Hogwarts like she was supposed to have been seven years earlier. No one but the teachers knew her real age and situation. Her parents didn't want her to be teased or treated differently by the other students, and the staff respected that. Not that anyone could tell her age from her appearance. Six years of being trapped indoors and living off hospital food through a tube had caused her growth to develop more slowly than average. She was small enough to resemble an average fifth year.

“Oh, all right, love. You can kill him next year – or how about this summer? I'm sure you'll have plenty of time between lessons to plot and kill him during summer break.”

Without a word, Honey placed the portrait back on the nightstand. Gathering the cards, she shuffled them, spread them out, and chose two. This time, without waiting she flipped them over. One showed a group of Thestrals tearing the flesh off a carcass, and the other a graveyard.

Seeing the time on the clock-radio, Honey gathered the cards and stuffed them in her bag and headed straight for the Divination classroom in the North Tower. Hugging her bag to her chest, she carefully made her way through the corridors, walking past students who huddled in groups chatting since there was still a lot of time left before the bell rang. They had time, but Honey didn't. She had to start for her class early because she walked at a slow pace and needed all the time she could get. The teachers had told her it was all right for her to arrive at class a little late because of her condition, but she didn't feel right about it.

Emerging from the trap door, she spied Professor Trelawney putting copies of battered leather-bound books on each of the spindly little tables. Professor Trelawney blinked when she saw Honey sitting in her usual seat and came over to her.

“My dear, did you get all of your affairs in order like I advised you to? You mustn't overlook anything or you'll be sorry,” said Professor Trelawney, patting Honey’s shoulder.

The first day Honey had stepped foot in the class, four days ago, Professor Trelawney had come up to her, eyed her intensely, then told her she was going to die. At first Honey thought she was speaking about her hospitalization six years ago, but the woman shook her head as if she could read Honey’s mind. What she had predicted upset Honey greatly. She sat nervously rubbing the crystal her uncle had given her on her birthday to soothe her. She’d felt better after a few of her kind classmates, who had overheard, assured her she wouldn't die.

“Don't listen to her,” said Meredith Brook, a fellow Ravenclaw, as she sat next to Honey. “She predicts someone's death every year. It's her way of greeting you.”

“Yeah,” said Becky Knight, sitting behind them. “Says Harry Potter’s going to die every now and then. Last I saw he's still walking in the corridors.”

“Thank you,” said Honey with honest appreciation.

“We and a couple of others are going to study in the Library later. You should join us,” suggested Meredith.

Honey's face heated with excitement. “Y-yes, I'd love to.” This was the first time anyone had invited her to anything. Being isolated from people for six years, with the exception of her parents and uncles, caused her to have limited social skills. She didn't mind being alone, but having company was good, too.

After that Honey spent most of her time with her new friends. They went out shopping in the village, and for fun she bought a deck of Tarot cards to see her fortune. After following the instructions on a strip of parchment that came with the cards, she flipped four cards over and was surprise at what she saw. The first was a demon with sickly green skin and black eyes. He was holding his hand out to her, beckoning her to come to him. The second card was Death; he was standing perfectly still, but she felt like his hollow eyes were staring at her and following her movements. The third was a group of Thestrals tearing the flush off a carcass. The last was a graveyard in a moonlit night with dark clouds slowly gliding over the tombstones. Meredith and Becky kept telling her it was nothing and that they were enchanted prank cards made to scare students. Each of them took a card from the deck and both were normal ones. Honey was the only one who received unlucky cards every time.

“I've a scheduled exam with my family Healer. I'll be missing class next week, starting tomorrow,” Honey informed Professor Trelawney as she had the rest of her teachers, friends, and the Headmaster. “It's nothing serious, just a routine check-up.”

Professor Trelawney sighed. “Ohhhh...you poor, poor child. The dark cloud coiled around you is plotting against you. Soon it's going to swallow you up.”

Honey ignored her and opened her book. This was the same thing Professor Trelawney said to Honey whenever she saw her, and Honey had learned to ignore the ominous words.

“Such a shame, a gifted witch. Lost,” murmured Professor Trelawney as the rest of the students filled the room.

***

Honey's physical examination took longer than expected. It took her Healer three weeks to finish examining the nerves and muscles on the rejoined bones of her legs. Having not been used in a long time, the muscles were swollen from her walking and carrying heavy books. Other than a little fatigue, however, she was perfectly fine. The Healer discharged Honey with a few bottles of potions and a list of exercises she had to do to improve her muscle function.

Believing it was best to have things settled, Honey met with her solicitor, who was in charge of her financial holdings, after leaving St. Mungo's Hospital. It didn't matter to Honey if Professor Trelawney and the cards were right or wrong. Everyone died sooner or later.

By the time she had finished looking over her will it was late at night. Her solicitor suggested Honey stay home and return to school the next day. She refused, believing herself well enough to return that night. When she got off the train and walked through the entrance, Honey was greeted by Marvolo, a ghost who lived at Hogwarts. He was the first friend she had made there.

“Welcome back, Honey. I was so worried about you,” said Marvolo.

“It was nothing really, just a routine check-up,” said Honey. She put her trunk down and turned her head in the direction of his disembodied voice. Marvolo was always invisible when he spoke to her, claiming he was too shy to let anyone see him.

“That's good to hear.”

There was a silent pause, which prompted Honey to think that Marvolo had flown off somewhere. She picked up her trunk and was about to head to her dormitory when he began to speak again.

“Honey, have you ever hear of the Chamber of Secrets?”

“The Chamber of Secrets? Oh...yes, yes, I have. It's a secret chamber created by Salazar Slytherin. Inside was a creature of some sort that was suppose to be unleashed by Slytherin’s heir. His heir was suppose to unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic.” Honey recited what her friends had told her. “Over two years ago the Chamber was opened and a few students got Petrified by the creature, which turned out to be a Basilisk, but they survived and the Basilisk was killed by Harry Potter.”

“Yes...” said Marvolo flatly.

“Is something wrong?” asked Honey.

“No, no. I was wondering if you'd like to see the Chamber.”

Honey blinked at this. “See the Chamber of Secrets?”

“Yes.”

“But it's been sealed, hasn't it?”

“There is more than one entrance. If you'd like to see it, I can show you.”

“Hm...I don't know. It's very late and I'm very tired. Can't you show me tomorrow?”

“No. Not tomorrow. This is the only time we can go. Come on, Honey, think of it as an adventure.”

Honey creased her brow, contemplating whether she wanted to go or not. An adventure was what she had always dreamed about while she’d been locked indoors for so long, reading novels. Could she really have an adventure? A small one. It couldn't hurt, could it?

“Trust me, Honey, it'll be fun.”

“All right, let's go,” she said, against her better judgment. Marvolo was a good friend and she did trust him. “Wait a moment, I just have to put my trunk away.”

“There's no time. You have to go now. Use a shrinking charm on your trunk and take it with you. Now, close your eyes and listen to my voice.”

Trusting him, Honey did as he suggested and followed his directions. Soon she found herself standing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel. Using a Lumos charm to light her way, she continued to follow his directions until she saw a solid wall in front of her. It was carved with two serpents entwined, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.

“Open,” she heard Marvolo whisper. The serpents parted as the wall cracked open. The two halves slid smoothly out of sight, and Honey, who was shaking from head to foot with excitement, walked through the opening.

Inside she saw towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rising to support a ceiling lost in darkness. The pillars cast long black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place. She placed her wand in her pocket and ventured furthered in. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following her. Gazing at the snakes, she was reminded of the Tarot card with Death on it and how his hollow eyes had followed her. Brushing the thought aside, she drew level with the last pair of pillars. A statue as high as the Chamber itself loomed into view against the back wall. It was of a wizard who appeared ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of his sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor.

“Salazar Slytherin,” she muttered, as voices began whispering in her ear. She tilted her head in an attempt to understand them.

“Welcome back...” were the words she thought she heard.

“Look over on your right, Honey.”

Honey jumped, suddenly hearing Marvolo's voice. Turning her head, she gasped at what she saw. It was the skeletal remains of the Basilisk.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, stepping closer.

Gingerly she reached her hand out and caressed its large head. Feeling heat on her neck, Honey took off her necklace and stared at it. She winced as the crysytal burned her hands, and dropped it. She clasped her hands to her chest and her body began to shiver from the sudden cold air that replaced the heat. Her breath was clearly visible in the damp air.

“Cold?” came Marvolo's voice.

Honey turned and there was a tall, handsome, black-haired boy standing over her necklace.

“Marvolo?” she said. He was transparent, similar to the other ghosts she had seen, yet not the same. Something about him was different. Very different. And his cold smile, it was familiar. Very familiar....

Honey's eyes widened as long-forgotten memories resurfaced. Six years ago she had had an imaginary friend named Tommy. Tommy was a handsome little boy with pale skin and dark hair. He went everywhere with her and played with her while she was alone in her room. She was special, he said; he wanted to play with only her and no one else. Like a fool, she believed him and his sickly-sweet words. She trusted him.

One night he awakened her while everyone else was still sleeping and coaxed her into playing a game with him. An adventure game. No, they couldn't play it tomorrow. Not tomorrow. This was the only time they could play it. They must hurry now, or else he wouldn't play with her again. Against the advice of the little voice that was telling her to go back to bed, Honey agreed to go, and put on a coat over her nightdress. Tommy told her to close her eyes and listen only to his voice. His game was fun at first, until they reached the end. She opened her eyes to find that they were inside the crystal room, the room farthest from everyone's bedrooms. The whole room was filled with large glass cases housing various crystal sculptures, from the marble floor to the ceiling.

She clasped her hands over her chest and her body began to shiver from the sudden cold air, her breath visible. Glancing around, she saw that the glass cases near her had fogged up.

“Tommy, I think we should go back,” she said, but when she tried to leave the door swung closed by itself.

She rubbed her eyes, which were growing heavy, and forced them to open. That was when she saw him. Reflected in the glass was a tall, handsome, black-haired boy standing near her. He looked about sixteen and had features similar to Tommy’s. He could have been Tommy’s brother, but something told Honey he wasn't.

“Tommy?” she heard herself say as she spun around to face him.

“Come here, Honey Bee,” said Tommy. He was holding his hand out to her, beckoning her to come to him.

She shook her head, frightened by the odd red gleam in his hungry eyes. A voice in her head yelled for her to run, to get away from him. She ran to the door and tried to open it, but she stopped as she felt her strength draining from her body. Tommy laughed a high, cold laugh from where he was leaning against a glass display case.

“I'm tired, Tommy. I want to go back to bed,” Honey said quietly, still facing the door.

“So soon?” he chided her. “The game’s just begun.”

Like a scared rabbit, Honey dashed through the maze of glass in an attempt to distance herself from him. Tommy followed a few feet behind her at a slow pace, toying with her. It was as if he knew the layout of the room as well as she did. Heart pounding, she continue to run although it was obviously useless.

“This is getting boring,” she heard Tommy say.

Honey yelped as something hit her in the back. She fell on the floor, crying as pain spread through her broken ankle. Before she could stand up a large crystal Phoenix fell on top of her lower half, pinning her where she lay.

“That's better,” said Tommy, who was standing over her, no longer transparent.

A cold smile spread across his face as he watched her struggle weakly to get out from under the sculpture. She sobbed. Little bits of glass had embedded themselves in her skin and blood was seeping out of the wounds. She dared not ask him for help, especially when he look so amused at her suffering. Quitting her efforts to move the heavy object, she took a deep breath and let out a long, piercing scream. Tommy roughly grabbed her jaw, forcing her mouth to stay open. Honey hit him repeatedly with her fist, not wanting him to touch her. Undaunted by her attacks, he tightened his grip on her jaw and with his other hand he picked up a broken hand-sized sculpture from nearby and beat her arms with it until they were cut and bloody and useless. Strangely enough, his hand was unharmed.

Satisfied that she was now immobilized, he picked a small shard of glass off the floor and held it over her mouth. “Let's see how many it'll take before you pass out.” He shrugged. “Or, you know...die.”

Tears flooded her vision as she realized what he was planning to do.

“One...two...three...four...five....”

Tommy's voice was drowned out by the sound of Honey choking on her own blood. The glass shards fell into her mouth, cutting into her tongue and everything else, becoming embedded deeper and deeper. Pain coursed through her throat whenever it involuntary contracted in an attempt to push the shards out, but it only caused her more pain and more loss of blood. She was bleeding from the inside out.

Focusing her remaining strength on her left arm, which was behind Tommy, she managed to move it and reached around for anything she could hit him with with. Feeling something smooth and round, she grabbed it. A voice told her to hit him with it if she wanted to live. She picked up the glass and smashed it into his back. As she lost consciousness, the last thing she saw was a bright light engulfing Tommy....

Back in the Chamber of Secrets, Honey glanced at her crystal necklace on the floor and then at Marvolo or Tommy – whatever this name was. It became clear to her that the crystal was the same one she'd hit him with on that long-ago day. He must have been trapped inside it somehow for all these years. That was why she hadn't seen him until now. Her uncle must not have known it was housing a psychopathic ghost when he gave it to her.

“You remember,” Tommy stated. Not waiting for an answer, he continued, “Hmm...it was quite an ordeal you put me through.”

“What I put you through?” Honey's voice was tight as she held in her anger. “Because of you, I was in a coma for months. When I woke my voice was gone, my arms and legs were completely useless, I ate food through a hole cut in my throat, where a tube was put in. Every day I felt nothing but pain. For nearly six years I rarely slept, terrified of something I couldn't remember.” She looked him over, hatred dripping from every word.

He gave her a lazy stare. “If you'd done your part like a good girl, lay there and died like you were supposed to, you wouldn't have had to suffer so much.”

~*~

Tom rubbed his ears with his palms as Honey screamed, her bottled-up emotions breaking free. He sighed when she finally stopped and fell on the stone floor with a thump. Willing the ringing in his ears to cease, he strode to her unconscious form. He was tempted to wake her up with a slicing curse but decided against it. If last time had taught him anything, it was that she had a strong will to live. If she were conscious there was a good chance she would escape again. He didn't want that. It was why he had particularly chosen the Chamber of Secrets in which to kill her. With the entrance sealed there was no escape unless she spoke Parseltongue. Might as well sit there and wait for her to finish dying.

Kneeling beside Honey, he studied her, noting that she was no longer that tiny little brat he’d known before. Six years had passed since he’d last seen her. While trapped in the crystal he couldn't see anything, only hear voices. It was much like when he’d been trapped in the diadem, yet not. In the diadem he’d been able to use his magic to manipulate Honey, but inside the crystal he had no magic, because he was weakened from the trauma of being sucked into it. He could only speak to her. It didn't matter; he'd always been able to charm the people he needed, and Honey was no exception. She’d fallen for him all over again. She didn't know it, but every time she rubbed the crystal she transferred all her worries and fears into it. That was what he'd been feeding off of. It gave him enough strength to use his magic and begin draining the life out of her, restoring his. Presently she became less whiny, but she was still needy. It was that neediness for others in her that had allowed Tom to gain her trust and manipulate her. Everything had been going according to plan until she’d developed a social life. Since entering Hogwarts and making friends, her dependency on him had started to wane. He couldn't have that. He had to finishing draining her as soon as possible, while she still trusted him. Needed him.

“I'm going to miss you when you're gone,” Tom said as he caressed her cheek with the back of his knuckles, feeling magic course through him. Slowly, he was becoming human once again. “You put up quite a fight.”

“Will...” she said in a soft breath, her glazed eyes staring up at him.

Hearing a low sound going from her mouth, he leaned his ear over her lips to see what her last words would be.

“Will...am...” she hissed before taking her last breath. Her body stiffened, her face was pale. She was dead.

Tom turned to face her as his mind registered that she’d been speaking Parseltongue. Distracted by the knowledge, he didn't see her tie transform into a black snake. The snake turned its head and stared at Tom. Sensing that his mistress was being threatened, it bit him on the face without warning. Tom fell back, cupping his stinging face.

“William?” he hissed. How could he have forgotten she'd Transfigured her pet snake into a tie to sneak him into Ravenclaw Tower?

Raising himself from her chest, William hissed, “Stay away! Stay away!”

Tom groaned in pain as disembodied hisses joined William’s, echoing off the walls. Oddly, fifty years ago he hadn’t heard the disembodied hisses.

“You're not welcome here, Mudblood! Kill the Mudblood! Kill the Mudblood! Kill the Mudblood!”

“Shut it!” Tom hissed back, but the hisses continued.

He went back to Honey's body, knowing that she probably had an antidote for William's venom somewhere in her robes.

“Move, William,” he hissed, waving the snake away. “I'm trying to help your mistress!”

“Liar! Liar!” William accused him, biting his hand.

Growling in frustration, Tom abandoned William and his dead mistress. Making his way out of the Chamber, he headed for the Hospital Wing. He didn't know how far he got before he lost consciousness. When Tom woke he was on a bed in the Hospital Wing. Someone had found him and brought him there, and Madam Pomfrey tended his wounds. She gave him the antidote to the snake venom, but his face was purple and swollen beyond recognition, as was his hand. Before Madam Pomfrey could question him, Tom quickly invented a story about being bitten by a snake while he was napping on the grass. Noticing how she eyed his old-fashioned school robes, he told her a sob story about how poor his family was and that he had to wear his grandfather's old robes. She seemed to take his word for it and asked hardly any more questions.

Over a week passed before he was released. The swelling had gone down greatly. He hurried out of the Hospital Wing before anyone could recognize him and stole a wand and robe from an unsuspecting Slytherin his size. The first place he went was the Chamber of Secrets to see Honey's body. Just as he had planned, no one noticed she was gone. Her parents believe her to be in school, while her teachers believed she was still with her Healer. She had arrived at Hogwarts very late, when no one was up, and he’d made sure to convince her to bring her trunk with her to the Chamber. That way her things wouldn't be in her dormitory for her roommates to see. It would be suspicious for her things to be there if she was nowhere in sight.

When Tom reached the Chamber his eardrums were assaulted by the sound of millions of hisses echoing through the cave.

“You're not welcome here, Mudblood! Kill the Mudblood! Kill the Mudblood! Kill the Mudblood!”

It was the same words they’d been hissing last time. The only people who had been there before were him and Honey. He was a half-blood and she was a pure-blood. Was someone else there? A Mudblood? Glancing around, he searched for the presence of a Mudblood as the hissing grew louder and louder.

“Shut it!” he hissed back. “There is no Mudblood here! Shut it!” The hisses suddenly stopped. All was silent. The only sound that could be heard was him breathing.

Tom was wondering where the snakes were and where they had gone when an invisible force suddenly grabbed him. His arms were spread and his body lifted a foot off the stone floor. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Honey striding toward him. Apart from the cold expression on her face she looked surprisingly good for a person who’d been dead for over a week. William's head lay on her left shoulder and his bottom half coiled lazily around her neck. He raised his head and displayed his fangs when Honey stopped in front of Tom.

“Who are you?” asked Tom.

“Don't you recognize me?” Honey asked him casually.

Tom scoffed. This person – whoever she was – may have looked and sounded like Honey, but it was not her. Honey's eyes had never been so emotionless, and he’d made sure her bones were thoroughly crushed, which wouldn't allowed her to move so easily.

“Where's Honey?”

“I am Honey.”

“No, you're not.”

Honey smiled. “If I weren't Honey, how would I know you tried to kill her six years ago?” She tapped her chin. “Let's see...you broke her ankle.”

Tom cringed as he felt his ankles abruptly twist and break. As the pain dulled, he realized that Honey had spoken of herself in the third person, and that she had no wand. This was clearly not Honey. He’d seen her die. This person or thing must have taken possession of her body while Tom was recovering in the Hospital Wing. If that was true, then how did she know about what he’d done to Honey?

“Crushed her legs.”

Throwing Tom threw his head back and screamed as the the bones of his legs were crushed flat.

“Ribs.”

He let out a string of curses as his ribs snapped and the ends dug into his body, puncturing organs.

“And you beat her arms.”

He pulled at his invisible restraints before what felt like hammers started beating his arms.

“Let's not forget the glass shards....”

~*~

Honey watched dispassionately as her tormentor lay on the stone floor. His body was twisted at odd angles and he was coughing up blood; blood seeped from little bits of glass embedded all over his skin. It pleased her to see that he was being punished for his actions. Twice now, he'd attempted to take her life.

Thinking back, she realized it was her fault for being too shy to befriend anyone. That was why she was so alone. When he’d come to her, talked to her, played with her, she’d thought he was her friend, someone who cared for her. But no. The warnings had been so clear, the whispers constant, but she’d ignored them.

He had deceived her right from the start, seducing her with extraordinary tales of brave heroes and mystical creatures. Late at night she’d dreamed of those tales, wishing they were real. He’d claimed they were and promised they'd have an adventure of their own. He’d lied.

Why hadn’t she been able to see his dark intentions? His true feelings for her? There was hatred in his eyes. Hatred for her.

“Tommy,” she said.

He cowered as she knelt beside him, her face mere inches from his, filling his vision.

“Or do you prefer to be call Marvolo?” she continued without waiting for him to reply. “Tommy, then. Don't worry, Tommy, we'll mend you right up. It took me six years to pull myself together. Let's see how long it takes you.”

The look in his eyes told her that he knew she had no mercy for him. That she felt no remorse. There was no escape because she remembered everything....

His cold smile when he’d torn her apart.

The satisfaction in his eyes as she lay there, bloody and broken, like he was now.

Let him know her fear. Feel her pain. Understand her helplessness.
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Tom Riddle's Redemption