Disclaimer- JK Rowling owns everything.
(Tom Riddle is probably too powerful for his age in this fic. In hindsight it's unlikely that he would have had so much strength, so young. Then again, most powerful wizard who ever lived..Hope you enjoy it anyway.)
"On the summer outing - we take them out, you know, once a year, to the countryside or to the seaside - well, Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop were never quite right afterwards, and all we ever got out of them was that they'd gone into a cave with Tom Riddle. He swore they'd just gone exploring, but something happened in there, I'm sure of it."
Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, pg 251.
It had been one of those odd, unsettled summers.
That day at the end of July had been humid, blustery. It had been one of those days where the sun had never quite seemed to have come up- only settled vaguely somewhere where it could just about cast enough light to be called day, and the whole sky was white, one enormous unembellished cloud.
The sky and the sand. If you'd squinted, you wouldn't have been able to tell the difference. Both of them, just miles of blank, almost colourless landscape. The only divide between them was the sea, and that had no colour either- it was grey, far too bitter to paddle in. The only relief from the shaded scene were the few idle bits of seaweed that drifted along, and the sharp orange of the gulls' beaks.
The orphans- all fifty of them- were huddling. Some were trying to fend off the wind by cuddling into their flimsy scarves, others hugged themselves against the biting, salty air. Some of them huddled together, keeping close-knit, linking arms or making little circles of three or four, using each other as windshields.
There were three figures who had strayed apart from the others, however. They were not braced together against the cold or shivering into their coats. The three of them- all around the age of ten- were picking their way unsteadily over the sharp rocks and the little pools across the beach. Gulls, beady eyed, orange beaked, lingered in the air and watched.
Salt, on the air. You could smell it, taste it. Feel it on your face and in your hair.
"Shouldn't we better go back now?"
The smallest of the little group had piped up. She had been the one having the most difficulty clambering over the sharp stones, making sure not to slip on any sudden slimy seaweed. The worst thing, in the mind of Amy Benson at that point, would be to fall over and land in seagull poop.
"They won't think to look for us yet, Amy."
Said the boy a little way in front of her. He was quite a strong-looking thing, considering he'd been brought up on string carrots and cold porridge. His name was Dennis, and he was kind and sensible, but like all boys his age, unwilling to be held back from an adventure by a sissy girl. "We'll just go a bit further."
"But I'm cold!" the young girl protested, pushing her mousy hair out of her face with a sleeve.
"Tom said the caves aren't far." Dennis said consolingly. "Come on, don't be a chicken."
"I'm not." Amy said, stung, and continued picking her way across the stones, looking up ahead and squinting against the salty breeze.
Tom Riddle was ten and a half, making him just about the oldest out of all of them. And he seemed to know where he was going.
Five minutes later, they reached the cave entrance which had seemed so far away at lunchtime, when they had set off. It had also looked smaller. Now that they were right up close, the shallow-looking dip in the rocks seemed in fact to be a tall, gaping mouth, ready and eager to swallow them. Inside, it was dark and even more slippery, and the echoes of dripping water could be heard, far back.
Amy whimpered as they drew to a halt, and clutched at Dennis's arm. Dennis just turned to look at Tom. determined not to look in the least bit worried.
"Are you really sure there's treasure in here, Tom?"
There was a flicker of annoyance on Tom Riddle's handsome young face, and he didn't look at Dennis as he replied,
"Yes, that's what I heard. Real pirate treasure."
"Really?" Amy squeaked, "real jewels and necklaces and things?"
"Let's go in and have a look." Tom said. It wasn't an invite or a suggestion, it was an order.
"Actually, I think we'd better go back." Dennis said, a feeling of dread suddenly plucking at him. He half turned, meaning to start running the moment they had made their way out of the really rocky area, but he found himself standing eye-to-eye with Tom Riddle, and he felt instantly helpless.
Tom's eyes were hard and cold as the sea, and his mouth was set in a determined, nasty half-smile.
Tom placed his hand flat against Dennis's back, propelling him slightly forward, slightly further into the cave.
"Coward." He sneered. Amy quickly tried to break away from the two boys, knowing a potential quarrel when she saw one. She released her friend's arm and made a dash back towards the safety of the group back on the beach, but Tom Riddle was quick as a striking snake, and his other arm flashed out and grabbed her by the wrist.
"Come on." Tom said in a voice that made Amy want to cry, "let's go exploring."
And, having no strength or courage left to argue, Dennis and Amy allowed themselves to be pushed, and pulled, into the gloom of the cave.
Countless times they slipped on the wet rocks, and the further they went, the darker it became, and the more they lost sight of the cave's entrance, that little sliver of daylight.
Tom seemed to know where he was going, but when they asked him, he didn't reply. When Dennis found the courage to look back at him, his eyes looked big and almost feverish with excitement, a strange expression on his face.
Amy was crying quietly, clutching the skirt of her dress and trying not to fall, trying not to squeal when she thought she felt things brushing past her ankles. The air felt somehow alive, like it was prickling.
"Okay, we can stop here" Tom Riddle finally said, grabbing them both by their shoulders. "I think we should play a game."
We're doing what I want, and there's nothing you can do about it.
"But it's too dark" Amy whispered tearfully.
"It doesn't matter!" Tom said sharply. "Sit down."
Obediently, Dennis and Amy fumbled around, trying to find a spot where it wasn't completely soaking and where they weren't touching any of the slimy seaweed, or miscellaneous scuttly creatures. Dennis realised, dimly, that he was trembling. He reached out and clutched hold of Amy's hand, squeezing it tightly in the gloom. If Tom noticed, he didn't say anything.
He stood before them, as if he were about to make a speech.
"Dennis can go first" he said, and it was like a death sentence. He felt Tom draw a little nearer, and he could hear the pace of his breath. Dennis, frozen with fear, realised that the boy before him was also trembling- but with excitement, apprehension, nerves. Tom reached out with a pale, spidery hand, and rested his fingertips against Dennis's forehead.
"What do I have to do?" he squeaked.
"It's a game I invented." Tom said. "I'm going to think of a feeling, and then I'm going to try and make you feel it."
"How can you do that?" Dennis barely whispered.
"I can" Tom growled in a voice that refused to be argued with, "because I can."
The next forty minutes were the most terrifying of Amy's life. The same could have been said of Dennis, but she was fairly sure that he had slipped into some conscious state of unconsciousness, and wouldn't remember what had happened.
She watched, horrified and helpless, as Tom stood with his hand pressed against Dennis's head and seemed to focus all his energy towards him. There was an eerie, greenish sort of glow around him, his eyes were bright and he was breathing hard. Amy cowered against the wall as Dennis, oddly rigid, went through a range of emotions, quickly as Tom seemed to summon them. First he was terribly sad- he began to weep into his hands, and gradually to sob almost hysterically as Tom pressed his fingers harder against his forehead. Then he relaxed, went limp as a rag doll as Tom broke away, flushed with his own success.
But then it started again. This time, Tom made him angry. Dennis look at first annoyed, and then his anger seemed to build until he was shouting out and thrashing against an invisible foe. Amy cried, confused and panicking- how on earth was Tom doing this? What should she do? Try to help? But if she drew attention to herself, she'd surely be next..
The last was the worst. Pain. For years afterwards, Amy would wake up in the night thinking that she could still hear Dennis screaming. That awful, almost inhuman noise that rung around the cave, as though it would never end. That burning in Tom Riddle's eyes, his expression which said so clearly "Look, look what I can do!"
Finally, Tom seemed to have had enough. He let go of Dennis, who fell back on the slimy, wet floor of the cave, and lay still for a little while. Amy didn't say a word, and neither did Tom. He stood where he was, his fists by his sides, his head down. The odd glow around him faded away gradually, and he released a long breath.
Dennis sat up, looking confused. He didn't seem to realise what had happened or where they were. Eventually, he stood up and said dully, "We'd better go back."
"Yes, you're right, Dennis." Tom said cheerfully.
He led them back out of the cave. Across those jagged rocks, past the beady-eyed gulls. Back to the orphanage group all huddled together.
Amy never forgot.
Dennis didn't remember a thing, but he was never the same. He still wakes up during the night, like Amy, but his horrible nightmares are forgotten as soon as he opens his eyes. His fears go unexplained. But he wakes all the same, every night, with the taste of salt on his tongue.