Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters but Arianne Aglaia, and Jonathan Bones. Tom Riddle is owned solely by Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and no infringement of copyright is intended. Please refrain from suing me.

Author's Note: Read on.

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Chapter One: How It Began

The night's darkness was almost palpable. Magic was in the air. It hovered like a mist, clinging to all who stepped through it. The stars were pinpricks of light in an infinitely black sky. No clouds hid the moon from view. Tom smiled, it was perfect. He could feel a tension in the night air that had only recently begun to appear in his life. But he could dismiss is as hormones, since he was eleven and fast approaching his teenage years.

He sat on the rooftop of the orphanage, peering up into the night sky. Something was going to happen soon. It was bound to. Destiny was calling him as loudly as the children had mocked him earlier. Imagine, that they would mock him. When he was so much more intelligent than they. But he was different, so the picked on him. They would regret it, he promised himself.

As he sat, Tom thought about his life. An orphan, brought to the orphanage when he was barely a week old. He had lived there ever since. And life was hell. The children would tease him, sensing his difference and not knowing how else to cope with it. From the age of about four until now he had been mocked and called names. Tom was determined to make them pay for it eventually. He would bide his time until he could do something, though. It was no use making a move when he did not have the power to do so.

The sky pressed down on Tom like a blanket. Not suffocating him, but warming him from the cool air. His jacket was inside, left behind so as not to weigh him down as he crawled out the window onto the roof. He wasn't as cold as usual, anyways. The night was pleasant, but even then the air still held some tension. Tom lay back, lacing his fingers together behind his head. The roof was the only place he could find peace. Inside, he shared a room with eight other boys, and they never slept all at once. None of them dared come outside, so he knew he was safe. For now. Until one of the older boys saw him and ratted him out to Madam Elisabeth.

Madam Elisabeth was the frumpy old woman who ran the orphanage. She pretended to do it for charity, instead preferring to spend little of the money donations on the orphans, and more on herself and her frilly dresses. That was why the boys never ate decent food and grew to be scrawny young men with bad attitudes and cold souls. Tom didn't like Madam Elisabeth. No one did, not even the post man, whom she had an enormous liking for. Not that he blamed the man, but it would have eased the pressure off the boys if Madam Elisabeth had a decent love life. The only thing of the kind at the moment was her little rendevous with the milkman. And that had been a one time thing.

Tom heard something, and he sat upright. What had it been? The scratching noise had seemed to come from the tree across the street, which was a bit odd because no birds nested in that tree. It was awfully weak. But there it was again, still from that tree. Tom frowned, his brow wrinkling as he squinted through the darkness at the tree. Something emerged from it, a large creature with huge wingspan and glowing eyes. Tom scrambled backwards, reaching for the latch on the window. He fumbled with it, but his fingers refused to work properly.

The creature landed on the roof a foot away from him. Tom turned slowly toward it, almost not daring to look. But he let out his breath. It was just a barn owl. The owl stuck out it's foot, and Tom stared blankly at it. What was wrong with this animal? Did it have some sort of foot-spasm disease that caused it to do that? A piece of paper was attached to the bird's leg. Tom raised his eyebrows curiously and untied the paper. It was a series of letters, written on heavy parchment in greek ink.

The bird flew away, leaving Tom in a flurry of wings and shedded feathers. He sneezed, rubbing his nose and cursing his allergies. Then he returned his attention to the letters. The script was flowing and elegant, much different from what Tom was used to. At least he could read, unlike many of the other boys in the orphanage. He turned the envelope towards the moon and began to read. The envelope was addressed to: Mister T. M. Riddle, The Roof, Charity Cross Boys' Orphanage, England. Tom shook his head in amazement, pulling out the letter to read.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

---------------------------------------------------------

Headmaster: Armando Dippet

Dear Mister Riddle,

We are please to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins September 1. We await you owl by no later that July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Deputy Headmaster

Tom shook his head, rubbed his eyes, and reread it. But the writing read the same thing. He shivered. Surely this whole thing was a big joke, an elaborate ruse thought up by one of the older boys to excite Tom and give him hope or happiness. Yes, it had to be. Tom still wondered if it could be real. He pulled out a second piece of parchment and read it silently.

Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Uniform

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragonhide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

Course Books

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)

by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic

by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory

by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration

by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi

by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions

by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection

by Quentin Trimble

Other Equipment

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

Tom stared at the paper incredulously. None of the orphans were this creative and imaginative. They had too few brain cells to lie, much less come up with such an elaborate plot to tease him. So that would mean that...it was real. All of it was true. He would be getting out of this hellhole by September first. Tom could not believe it. His mind was working overtime, trying to come up with reasons that would prove this to be a false scheme. But he could find none. Emotions raged inside of him, happiness, hope, and even some sadness that it might be a joke.

He gazed at the paper for a few moments, still trying to make sure he had read it correctly. Would Madam Elisabeth allow him to go? Why wouldn't she? She hated him with a passion, so she would be glad to see him go, surely. But if she had to pay for it...then it was a definite no. Tom would find a way to get the money, even if he had to sell all of his belongings--and Madam Elisabeth's--to manage it. He had to; he couldn't stand his life here any longer.

Tom shoved the letters into the envelope and clutched it to his chest. He hoped he wouldn't wake up in the morning with nothing but a fading dream of this night. Knowing that he might have a chance for a better future, if this wasn't a dream, Tom jammed the envelope into his pants pocket and unlocked the window. He tumbled inside, before closing the window. Then he tiptoed to his bed and slipped under the covers without even bothering to change clothes.

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In the morning, Tom woke up at five o' clock, as usual. He headed downstairs, turning before getting to the dining room. The boys were chattering around the table, and he could hear them even as he knocked on Madam Elisabeth's door. She might be awake today, and she might even decide to work. It would be a stretch for her, of course, but Tom could always dream.

The door of her office-bedroom opened, and Madam Elisabeth stood, regarding Tom with cold eyes. He smiled gently at her, hoping to find her in a good mood. Even though she was not a morning person, Tom's smile could usually win over anyone. She frowned and stepped aside, allowing him to enter. He sat in the chair in front of her cluttered desk. Madam Elisabeth sat behind the desk, her eyes still chilly.

"Good morning, Madam Elisabeth," Tom greeted, managing to fake pleasantness for once. "How are you this fine day? I hope I find you well."

"Good morning, Tom. I am well, thank you. What is it you called on me for? And if it is another complaint of bullying, I warn you not to raise the issue. Mornings are not my time of day."

Tom knew that already. He nodded politely and replied, "I recieved this late last night." He held up the envelope, being careful not to extend it to her, for fear of her taking it and ripping it to shreds, as the woman had been known to do.

"Is that so? What is it?"

"It is a letter. It came by owl. The letter says that I have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Do you know what this is about? I thought it might have been a joke, but it is so elaborate that I doubt anyone would have been able to think of it without months of preparations."

Madam Elisabeth's eyes widened, causing her to look more like a fish than ever. Tom held back a snigger and watched her reaction. She seemed to be turning an odd greenish-purple color. It was not a good color for her. It clashed terribly with the scarlet of her dress and the faded brown of her hair.

"Where did you get that?" she hissed, the color of her skin returning to a somewhat normal color.

"I told you. I recieved it by owl."

She spluttered some curses and obscenities, before saying, "I don't know what you think you're doing, but you may just as well drop it now. I know for sure that you are a lying little brat and that you shant be trusted. Get out of my office, Riddle. And no meals for you today. Go to your room and don't you dare take one step out of it, or I'll have your hide. Be gone!"

Tom stood, before hurrying out of the room. When Madam Elisabeth began yelling, no one stayed in her presence, and if they did they usually ended up with severe head injuries. Tom headed up to his room, though he had no intention of staying there. He opened the door and stepped inside, checking to see if any of the other boys were inside. No one. Good, he could have some privacy.

He grabbed all of his belongings and stole one of the other boy's bags. Tom shoved the few items of clothing he had into the bag and also managed to hide a few morsels from his stash into the bag. There was nothing else he had to take with him. Tom thought about heading out immediately. But if he were caught, there would be no second chance. If he left at night, no one would see. Madam Elisabeth needed her 'beauty sleep', even though she never looked any more beautiful to anyone.

Tom decided that nighttime was his best chance for escape, so he began tracing a plan on the dust that had collected on his nightstand. He would go out the window, climb down the trellis, and make his way to London by hitchhiking. Someone would help him, he knew it. And if he couldn't find anyone to hitch a ride with, then he would walk. Tom was fit, and could keep a pretty steady pace for a while. But not all the way to London. He would have to have some other form of transportation.

He rummaged through the drawers of his roommates and found a few notes hidden beneath the clothing. Tom stuffed the money into his pocket, along with the letter and a couple of crackers. Now he had everything he needed for a successful escape. Once he made it into London, Tom had no idea what he would do. But he knew that he could be useful to someone, somewhere.

Tom lie on his bed, waiting for night to fall. The boys came in for lunch, and didn't even bother teasing him as they would have usually done. He was invisible to them so long as he was confined to his bedroom, which was fine with him, because he didn't have to worry about being bloodied up before his great escape. By seven o' clock, Tom was hungry and he could smell the porridge from downstairs. But he knew he couldn't get some food from his secret stash, or he'd be caught for sure. Bread crumbs in between his sheets had gotten him in trouble a number of times before.

The other boys returned to the room by nine, after dinner. They were laughing and joking together, ignoring Tom completely. He was still invisible to them. If he was lucky, he would stay unnoticed until midnight, which was when he was planning to leave. The watch he had stolen from one of the boys read ten thirty when he began to hear snoring. They were falling asleep quickly tonight. A good omen for Tom. By eleven thirty, Tom could hear eight snoring boys.

He arose from the bed at five until midnight. Tom grabbed the stolen bag and tiptoed to the window. Unlocking the latch, he stepped onto the desk and crawled out onto the roof. He tried to be utterly silent as he placed his foot on the trellis. The laticework creaked barely, and Tom flinched at the noise. But it was so quiet that surely no one in the orphanage had heard it. He continued down the trellis, working slowly from the second floor to the ground. Tom reached the ground, landing with a soft thump on the soft dirt. He checked the watch. It said twelve forty-five. Not bad, he congratulated himself.

But he wasn't free yet. He still had to make it over the fence without waking anyone. It would be tricky, but Tom was an agile creature. He hoisted the bag over his shoulders and ran quietly to the fence. Placing his foot on a rock that was placed near the fence, Tom hoisted himself over. Just as his other foot swung over the fence, the boulder began to shift. Tom wondered if it might cause some damage. The rock started to roll, heading for the little fountain. It crashed into the fountain with a resounding thud. Tom's luck had run out.

He dropped from the fence, turning and running like hell away from the orphanage. He could hear people's voices from the yard, but he didn't stop. He was free, and he was heading towards London. Anything he encountered there had to be better than living in the orphanage for the rest of his life.

So Tom ran non-stop for fifteen minutes. If they hadn't caught him by now, they weren't going to. He stopped outside a derelict structure. It was uninhabited. Tom went inside, inspecting it to see if it was fit to spend the night in. Tom decided it would be fine, so he propped his bag up near a crumbling wall and lay his head down to sleep.