Some day, this will be a "Last.fm/NetFlix/Amazon for web fiction" (both original and fanfiction) where you can search across many different hosting sites or rate what you've read and get recommendations. However, life keeps throwing more urgent projects my way, so I don't know when it'll be ready.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/12295181/1/"For all that violence and pain, was this end really something to be so afraid of?" Harry asked softly, testing the surface of the ghostly table with his elbow and leaned his cheek on his palm as he waited for the answer, actually curious for it.
Tom Riddle startled, and cracked pale green eyes shot through with chips of red flew wide. "Potter?! What are you— Come to gloat have you?" The broken soul asked, parts of him shifting jaggedly as he moved.
Harry snorted. Were the Gaunts related to the Malfoy's at all? He'd heard something like that from Malfoy at least a handful of times!
"Hardly. Shame you weren't here a while ago, you just missed Dumbledore." Harry replied with false cheer. "We had a lovely chat, I'm sure he'd have been delighted to include you in the conversation."
If he'd been capable of it Harry would have died again laughing at the look he was presented with for that. He was used to people, mostly Slytherin's his age and Snape, looking at him like they were doubting his intelligence and sanity, but to have it directed at him from the face of Tom Riddle made that priceless. Harry was starting to understand a little of why Dumbledore had hung around this place so long waiting for Harry to pass through. In this place, hatred and pain were washed away, and it was easy to exist in just this moment.
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