"One way or another~"[]Harry Potter gacha[] Gacha HP/Gacha []Corrupted Harry AU[] Short GCMV

🖤 AU INTRODUCTION (I used chatgpt to make it more understandable) After the Chamber of Secrets, everything was supposed to be over. The diary was destroyed. The memory of Tom Riddle was erased. And the girl he haunted was finally free. That’s what they believed. That’s what Harry Potter told himself. But something about that day never felt… finished. At first, it was nothing more than a feeling. A quiet unease crawling down his spine. The sense of being watched when no one was there. A presence lingering just out of sight. Harry ignored it. He had learned, long ago, how to live with things that didn’t make sense. But then he started seeing him. At the end of the corridors. In the reflection of glass. Standing still among crowds of people who never seemed to notice. Watching. Always watching. Tom Riddle. Unchanged. Untouched. As if the diary had never been destroyed at all. Harry tried to tell someone. Once. Twice. But no one understood. They said he was just tired. That he had been through too much. That it was stress, imagination—something his mind had created to cope. Some looked at him with concern. Others… with doubt. So Harry stopped talking about it. Because every time he tried to explain, the words sounded more insane out loud than they did in his head. And slowly, dangerously— he began to question himself. Was he really seeing Tom Riddle? Or was his mind finally breaking under everything it had endured? Because no one else could see him. No one else ever reacted. And yet… Sometimes, Tom would smile. Sometimes, he would move closer. And sometimes— he would speak. Soft. Quiet. Like a voice meant only for Harry. At first, it was nothing. Just his name. A whisper in the dark. But then… the words began to change. “They don’t believe you.” “They never listen.” “Why do you keep pretending you’re not angry?” The voice was calm. Patient. Understanding. “You don’t have to be the hero all the time.” “You could make them understand.” “You could make them stop.” Harry told himself not to listen. Told himself it wasn’t real. But the voice never left. It followed him. Stayed with him. knew things no one else did. And the worst part— it sounded right. Harry tried to ignore it. Tried to drown it out. But the voice never left. It lingered in the quiet. Followed him through empty halls. Waited for him in the dark. Patient. Certain. Like it already knew how this would end. And sometimes— when Harry caught his reflection just right— he wasn’t sure if he was alone anymore. Because behind him, just for a second— there would be a shadow that didn’t belong. A smile that wasn’t his. So now, Harry no longer asks if Tom Riddle is real. Because the question that haunts him is far worse. If he isn’t real… then why does it feel like something inside him is changing? And if he is— then maybe he was never gone at all.