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Summary
Well, f--k.
Harry thought that when he decided to return, it would be to Hogwarts. He believed that choosing *return* meant he would be back in the forest. He certainly didn't say, *Yes, I am aware my soul's essence is actually Tom Riddle, and I understand this choice will send me back to Halloween 1981.* He didn't know. He really, truly, didn't know. Swear to God, Merlin, Morgana, and bloody Dumbledore's beard, he didn't know. He thought he was going back to Ron and Hermione, not to Godric's Hollow, where baby Harry Potter would be looking up at him with wide eyes, possibly with his mother—no, Lily Potter's body lying nearby. Well, f--k. F--k you. F--k you very much. Harry—who-turned-out-to-be-Tom wanted to cry. Holy-f--king-shit. Even the fact that mini-baby Harry was unbearably cute didn't help…
