"Then mum and dad came," Harry whispered. "Tom's and my wand connected, and every person he had killed came out of it like ... like spectres, ghosts but not really, and they talked to me and ... gods ... there was so much I did not know. And then dad told me, ... he said that it was Voldemort or me or ... or the two of us together." Looking up, he noticed his soulmate had slipped into the room. Whenever Harry needed him, Tom was there. Still, he did not interrupt. He just stood there, a silent sentinel at Harry's back. "And he got rid of the rags Wormtail had wrapped his homunculus body into; stick thin and grotesque. And dad said that I had to kill him and I ...," looking at his friend, Harry shook his head, "I couldn't do it, Neville. I couldn't kill the murderer of my parents. Maybe it was a weakness, but I think it was courage. Instead, I helped him, patched him back together so we could ... I don't know ... not let our past destroy us. Instead, we chose to work for a better future ... together! He made mistakes in the past; I know that." Rubbing his eyes, Harry sighed, defeated. "Don't I  know that ... but from all the witches and wizards in our world, I believe he is the only one who can save us. I had to believe in something that night, Neville. So, I chose to believe in him. Can't you understand that?"