Tom Marvolo Riddle stared down at an object sitting on a bathroom sink. This time he was going to do it. He had planned his entire day around this, making sure that no one had any reason to be around the bathroom and if, by some strange chance, someone did happen to come in he had positioned himself perfectly for his escape route. Chances were that he had no reason to worry, but he couldn't help himself.

His entire future depended on this moment, if it didn't work or went horribly wrong, he was sunk. Tom drew in a deep breath and put on hand on top of the object. A diary. Technically his diary, even though he had never written a word in it in his life. He slicked his hair back with his free hand, it was shaking. Tom reached his trembling hand towards his school bag, all the cocky confidence that he'd had earlier that day was gone. It was just hours earlier that he'd been talking to his 'friends' in the Slytherin common room.

****

The entire common room burst into laughter, Tom had said something witty again. He crossed his hands in his lap and smirked, how wonderful it was to be him.

"Tommy" a high pitched voice said with a giggle "Tell us more about what you saw The Oaf doing today."

'The Oaf' was his group's official name for the, now game keeper, Rubius Hagrid. Who was also the supposed opener of the Chamber of Secrets; Tom, of course, knew better than that. He went on weaving tales about how the fourteen year old boy had talked to a girl yesterday, only to be spat at and his foot stomped on, and various instances of particular embarrassment to Hagrid.

In the middle of one of his funnier stories, something heavy and hard smacked onto Tom's lap, then there was another high pitched giggle. "Tommy, can you tell more of your funny stories later? I think my makeup might be running." Then she giggled again and began to stroke and braid Tom's hair.

Tom knew the girl to be Mellisa Burke, another one of his many 'friends' and one that harbored a large crush on him. Of course, anyone with any common sense knew that you don't braid Tom Riddle's hair and not expect any consequences, especially if you were in his inner circle. Mellisa gave a hick-up and then another giggle; she had most likely had a little too much butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks today in Hogsmead.

Tom tried to pry to fourth year off of him without getting her mad, the only reason that he really put up with her was because her father ran a store in Knockturn Ally that he considered of use to him. Being friends with the girl wasn't a huge sacrifice to make if it meant accomplishing his goal in the end, which was the only thing that mattered.

He smiled charmingly, "Actually, I have to get going. Have some very important business to take care of, you know." He winked and they all gave him encouraging grins.

"Go on Tom, we don't want to keep you."

"Ya, go on."

He calmly got up and strode out of the room, smirking to himself as he went. They didn't even know what he was up to and they still supported him, that brought joy to his heart.

***

But that was hours ago, when this scheme was just still an idea, an ingenious theory, and not his living reality. His shaking hand searched around in his book bag for his wand, almost deliberately taking longer than usual to find it. His wand finally protruded from the bag.

There was really nothing special about Tom's wand, contrary to popular belief. It was just a normal thirteen and a half inch yew wand with a phoenix feather core.

Tom touched his wand to the diary. He knew that the deed had already been done, and that all he needed to do was to finalize it with one word, but the irrational part of him didn't believe it. This other part of him still believed that he had never done anything wrong. That he had never stolen the ring. Never met his uncle. Never killed his stupid father.

He knew that he set himself up for this. He didn't have to charm the stupid, gullible librarian into showing him some of the darkest books in the Hogwarts library, saying that it was 'Just a common interest of his.' No, no, no he really committed himself to this the day that he asked that fatal question.

***

"Sir, I want to ask you something." Tom asked. He needed to approach this with care, one wrong move and he would never find the answer.

"Ask away, dear Tom, ask away, we have all the time in the world…." Slughorn said nonchalantly, apparently not realizing the importance of this conversation.

"Sir, I wondered if you know anything about…..about Horcruxes?" He held his breath , and just hoped that Slughorn was as thick as Tom presumed him to be. "I saw the word in a book I was reading and didn't quite know what it was referring to." This wasn't a complete lie. He'd discovered the book by charming the librarian into telling him where it was, and even then Horcruxes were only mentioned in one sentence that was talking about not mentioning them. Tom had several theories about what they were, but he needed to make sure.

"Well, it can't hurt to give you an overview of course. Just so you understand the term…."

Tom's excitement peaked, his heart beat faster, and it took all of his control for it not to show on his face. Slughorn went on.

"If the act of murder is committed, a most evil act indeed that one should never consider, the soul will split. Then, if a certain incantation is stated, the user can put part of their soul into an object. Then if any harm should come to the person, they will not die. But it's a very pathetic way to live Tom, no one would ever want it…"

But Tom wasn't listening to the last part, and only really half-listened to the rest of Slughorn's warnings. He knew how to do it. How to acquire eternal life. All he need to do now was to find the incantation used after the murder was committed. He was elated.

***

Now Tom wished that he would have listened to Slughorn's warnings, then he may have had a reason to convince himself not to do this. Finding the incantation hadn't been hard; one quick trip to a rather shady bookstore down Knockturn Ally had gotten him that. Hypothetically, a Horcrux seemed rather easy to make, but actually doing it was another story.

He picked up his courage once again. He had to be the smart, sly Tom Riddle that everyone knew. He couldn't break down know. So he picked up his courage, pointed his wand to the diary and muttered a phrase so quietly he himself did not seem to even hear it.

A cry ripped through his ears, a scream so loud that he could barely even think over it. Tom clasped his hands over his ears, though it did nothing to help. It seemed as though the scream penetrated down to his very core and then just stayed there, jabbing him multiple times like a murder with a knife.

After an agonizing eternity of enduring the never-ending scream, Tom decided that enough was enough. "Just shut it!" Tom attempted to yell, but found that his mouth was already preoccupied. Seeing as he was the one screaming.

Then the real pain began; a slow ripping sensation that seemed to creep through his body. If he was a piece of fabric, he was being torn in half, or as if a knife was cutting him to pieces. It was as if his body, no rather his soul, wanted to go in two separate directions. Slughorn was right, and Tom should have listened to his warnings.

Tears sprang to his eyes. Where was the courageous, charismatic Tom? Where was the brave, smart Tom? 'Well he's definitely not here.' He screamed at himself. This pain wasn't worth eternal life, nothing was, but he couldn't stop it now. Now he could just grip the side of the sink and wish the ripping would stop.

His hands tightened on the edge of the sink as he tried to stifle another cry. After all, he didn't want to be found here. But one part of him almost wanted to be found, maybe they could stop the pain.

His back caved in from what felt like another stab with the knife. Tom was forced to look in the mirror. He couldn't help himself, he screamed. Since the face in the mirror was not that of Tom Marvolo Riddle.

The face in the mirror didn't have Tom's handsome features, his high cheek bones, or his dark eyes. This, what could he call it? This thing in the mirror was barely even human. It was deathly pale, even paler then Tom, had slits as a nose, and crimson eyes that shone with the lust of blood.

Tom reached a trembling hand up to his face, the thing moved. Tom stumbled backward "What are you?" he managed to whisper despite the pain.

The reflection gave a high pitched laugh. "Why, I'm you Tom."

Tom fell to the floor; his entire body was trembling now. "No" he whispered. His hands crept up to cradle his face. Images began to play in his head, horrible things. A slightly recognizable, handsome Tom with red eyes killing an old woman and blaming it on the house elf. A distorted looking waxy Tom wandering Albania, barely acting human at all. Then, the Tom that he saw in front of him….not Tom, something told him, this thing was Voldemort. Voldemort killing an entire street of muggles without giving a backward glance. "no" he whispered, he voice getting quieter. Then a savage looking Voldemort killing a young couple in their own home and then making his way towards the baby crib in the corner…"NO!" Tom yelled as loud as he could. "NO! I AM NOT YOU AND NEVER WILL BE."

He used all of his strength to push himself forward and lunged towards the mirror. Gone was the quiet, docile Tom. In was the Tom who wanted to make a point. Fist outstretched, he hit the mirror. Glass flew everywhere, but half the mirror was still intact. Tom flew at the mirror again, he had to destroy it. Nothing could be left of that mirror when he finished.

Shards of glass sunk deep into his hand, blood ran everywhere and began to coat the bathroom, mixing with water from a nearby sink that Tom had broken in his fury. But still the image remained, laughing at Tom from each separate piece of glass, it seemed stronger than ever.

Tom clutched his head, eyes wide and shaking. "WHY WON'T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE." He yelled. Then, the ghostly image of the reflection stretched itself out of the shards and raced towards him, only slowing down when he was a couple of inches from Tom's face. Tom's heart beat faster; this was not what he had planned. He didn't want this anymore!

The image stroked Tom's jaw, he shuttered. "Because I am you Tom, and we share the same fate." The apparition then reached inside of Tom's chest and yanked something out. Tom gasped, it was like he couldn't breathe, he was underwater. As his vision began to fade he saw the apparition holding a silvery substance in his hand, which Tom knew to be half of his soul.

The image turned its back to Tom and forced Tom's soul into the cover of the diary. "Because I am you Tom," he said as he began to fade away ", and I will never let you change our fate."

The world was then dark for Tom as he head hit the bathroom floor.