Disclaimer: Do you really think that JK Rowling's lawyer's scan for stories that do not include a disclaimer? That is sad people. Why don't you pick up a hobby like scrap booking or elf hat knitting? Your life may have more conviction then. Well, for formalities I suppose I have to say: I do not own anything you recognize except the plot.
A/N: Yea! It's me people! Not that I have made a huge splash in the literary world of fanfiction or otherwise. I have been recognized though by International Society of Poets for my poem "Death's Garden", if you would like to read it see it on under my account of the same name.
So, I have finally sunk to a new all time low and have started a Tom Riddle romance story. I decided so many stories show him being the pure physical, tangible body of evil but I don't believe that he was. I think that all humans have a part inside that yearns for love and our beloved Tom Riddle is no exception. Don't take this wrong, this is not going to be a lovely dovey story; there will be heartbreak ultimately for very poor reasons. Poor Tom eh? Also, I think I might take this from an OC's POV.
So, sit back why don't you?
I never thought that chance would take me there,
The edge of doom to wallow without content.
What virgin hell had led me to despair?
Out of time and space I was to be sent.
Picture this... Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 1942. The world was a more peaceful place in those days. We had little fear of the future and little memory of the past. I guess the experts are right in saying that time is fluid. That it can be changed or it can stays the same untouched for many lifetimes over. I was in my fifth year when I was given the opportunity to change the course of time, but I didn't. And I ask myself everyday, why didn't I reach out and touch him, accept him? This was complex question, and would take a lifetime to answer I found out. My life was not meant for him but inadvertently given to him. Who? Tom Riddle.
"Evita! Evita, come down and have some brunch before you leave for school darling." It was my mothers twittery voice not so much floating up the stairs but vomiting up the stairs. She had a cheery voice that, I suppose was to be labeled kind and maternal but it made me sick when I heard it.
'Why do I have to be up so early?' I glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of my room. 7:45 bloody am, not time for 'brunch'. The station was a quick floo away; I was packed and not very hungry. I readjusted myself in bed, wrapping the quilt tighter around my curled pajama clad figure.
"EVITA!" my mother screamed. She was always very touchy when I ignored her. She didn't seem to like 'fresh girls' who would undoubtedly end up in a whore house someday. Yes, my mother could have been a self esteem speaker for young girls.
She often would say to me, "Men expect answers and obedience my dear. How do you expect to find a nice young man and one who will have you, at that, if you have a streak of independence like that?" she usually said this over a frying pan with one of my fathers steaks or while we where cleaning the curtains or perhaps even while she polished my fathers shoes. The house was kept spotless for him at all costs. My mother seemed to think that servitude to my father or any man for that matter was a role that all women where born to fill. I had stopped arguing years ago.
"Coming mother. I'm not decent yet." I hastily called downstairs. "Can you have a house elf bring my food up?"
"Of course Evita, darling." My mother said sweetly.
"Thanks mum. I'll be down soon." I said back down the stairs. I hurried to my vanity, pulling the lacy curtains aside behind it letting in brilliant sunlight. I examined the reflection in the polished mirror. My hair was set in curlers and my eyes were puffy from sleep but I didn't think I looked too bad for the first day back. I removed the pins in the curlers and started to pull them out. They left my hair in rather set wave. At least my mother would be proud of something today… my vain and meager attempt to look like wife material. I saw fifth year as the year of passage into adulthood and perhaps if I could have my mothers blessing it would go smoothly. With my hair in place, I did my make up. Very light makeup, just a little rouge and a touch of lip tint was as much as I dared. I didn't want to look like an unrespectable woman after all.
"If only I could wear my own outfits maybe I could get a good chap." I sighed to my mirror.
"You don't need clothes dear to get a decent fellow." Said my mirror "You need manners and well breeding."
"Just how long, Mirror, have you been part of the Andrews family? You sound like all of them. Or perhaps they sound like you." I retorted as I snapped a barrette in my hair.
"Seven generations my dear, now get dressed and eat something. You don't want to look nastily thin do you?"
"Shut up." I growled. Everyone was always telling me I needed to eat more. My mother asked me in every letter "Are you eating alright? At Christmas you looked a peaky." On the other hand, when I did eat people said something about 'having my fat burning skills.' I could bloody well help it if I never was too hungry or if I couldn't gain weight. I grimaced at the plate of eggs and toast the elf Nodly had brought to me. I pushed it around with my fork for a while taking small bites or convincing myself that I eaten all I could and then threw the rest away promptly. I never was too hungry in the mornings anyway.
"Miss not hungry?" Nodly was tidying up around my room, fluffing pillows and such. We often made small talk in the mornings.
"Not really Nodly. Butterflies, you know. I go back to school today." I said as I dug through my trunk. I had accidentally packed all of my uniforms. I pulled out the summer jumper. "Ugh, I had forgotten how unflattering this was, damn." I threw it on my bed.
"Nodly is done now Miss. Does Miss have anything she wants Nodly to do before she leaves Miss?" Nodly curtsied.
"No, course not. You can go wake up my little sister. I doubt she's up yet. My sister's name was Alice and she was a second year Ravenclaw (my mothers Alma Mater) Mother hasn't started on her yet to 'always look your best'. I imitated my mothers sickening voice.
"What's that dear?" my mother, as though on cue, entered my bedroom. She unnecessarily smoothed the quilt on my bed. Nodly had made it perfectly as usual.
"Oh nothing just mumbling some school stuff. There might be a quiz in Transfiguration from our summer studies." I said quickly turning back to my outfit.
"Oh no darling. Not that drab old thing." My mother hissed.
"I was just thinking the same thing. But its Hogwarts standard issue. Who am I to undermine the rules?" I said.
"That's the spirit darling. Now get dressed and come downstairs. We're picking up your friend Edith Thomas. You two can get comfortable in the prefects compartment" my mother leaned in and kissed my temple. "Oh my little girl all grown up."
"I'll be home at Christmas Mum. And despite the message I may send you sometimes I would still like to your little girl for awhile." Answers like this came automatically these days. Anything to appear the perfect daughter was acceptable.
"Oh, your father and I have been so blessed but darling you're going to be 17 soon. Marriage is on the horizon. Isn't that exciting? You'll have a white dress and a handsome groom with white swans in the water garden with exotic flowers." My mother sniffed loudly then exited the room dabbing the corner of her eyes.
'Yes, every little girl's dream.' I mumble closing the door behind her.
"So anyway, I told my mum I was part of a summer charms club, she didn't expect a thing." For Edith Thomas, brains it seemed were an option.
"Suspect Edith, not expect. And how will you account for your Charms grade staying the same this year? I mean wont your parent's wonder why months of charms theory didn't bump up your grade?" I asked conversationally.
"Nah, they'll probably forget about it in a week or so anyway. But, this gentlemen Jack Grumman is a Spaniard and he's very romantic. We visited his father's vineyard in Southern France two weeks ago and you know what he called me?"
"Edith?" I answered sarcastically.
"Well that too but no, mi corazon!" She giggled. I stared at her blankly.
"You know mi Corazon is Spanish for My corozon." She said with a haughty knowledgeable air.
"Funny, I always thought it meant "my heart". But of course, silly me, there are only 5 letters in heart and corozon has 7."
"What?" She looked at me as though I had lost my mind.
"Nothing, continue with your story."
"Well, on my last night there he asked me to marry him!" She grinned broadly and re-crossed her legs. 2
"That's exciting. Marriage though, quite a commitment." I raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, Evita. Just because you don't believe in love matches doesn't mean I can't. I love Jack and Jack loves me. It's not like the servitude rubbish that you seem to think marriage is. That belongs to the old days Evita." Edith probably knew her the best at school. She knew my ideas about the world, though she seemed to have 'liberated' her self from them.
"Sorry if I'm old fashion. As I said, I will believe in love when I fall in love. Until then..." I cocked my head and shrugged. "...love is a fools fancy."
"You're bloody hopeless Evita." Edith sighed. "So who else to you fancy prefects?" So far we were the only students in the prefect's compartment.
"No idea. I hope they're not prats though. I don't want to pick up any extra work if other prefects don't do their job."
We sat in silence for a while. Edith was staring out the window while I was skimming through the new DADA text. I respected Edith despite my frequent temperament with her; she didn't push conversation any further then I wanted to go ever. A few people were entering the compartment but I didn't look up at first.
"Good morning ladies." I glanced up at this voice. It was Winston Davis, resident ladies man in Gryffindor house. He was a year ahead of me and I suppose extremely good looking though I never looked. He flashed a grin our way but I 'missed' it by diverting my eyes back to my book. Edith however giggled.
"Hi Winston. How was your holiday? She asked.
"Grand! My father just bought a share of an estate in France. We're spending Christmas holiday there and I'd ask if you wanted to come with us if you're parents are gone like they were last year. Think about it eh?" he flashed a sickening smile.
"That would be fantastic Winston. I'll definitely consider it."
"Great. Well I have go talk to the head boy but I'll be back ok? Save me a seat? 'kay?" He touched her arm.
"'kay." I mocked under my breathe flipping the pages of my books.
"Yeah." She said to his retreating backside. "Isn't he the sweetest?"
How's Jack Edith?" I asked viciously ignoring her question.
"Jack who?" she said offhandedly.
"Exactly."
"Hmm?" she turned to look at me as though I lost it. "What are you talking about?"
"Nothing." I sighed and turned back to my book.
A few minutes later the compartment was packed full of students. It had obviously been magically enhanced to fit the 50 some prefects but it was a tight fit. Head boy and girl sat in chintz chairs at the head of the compartment smiling nervously at the sea of students before them. They called off names of the students that were to be present. Each student in turn was to say the name of his or her house and favorite class. I was called third.
Standing up, I growled inwardly. I hated public speaking even if it was short.
"Evita Andrews. I'm from Gryffindor house and my favorite class is Transfiguration." I sat back down quickly. Nobody seemed to have noticed my turn to speak. Head boy called off the next student. Most of the students took this introduction to say something in favor of their house. 'From the greatest house in Hogwarts, Ravenclaw' or 'Go Lions!" for the Gryffindors. It seemed to take forever.
"Tom Riddle." Said the head boy.
A tall black hair boy stood up. He was sixth year; I could place him in the library next to the school history section often. I sat there too, though I never spoke him. He cleared his throat.
"Tom Riddle. I am from Slytherin house and my favorite class is History of Magic." He had a forceful presence but didn't command attention.
"Thanks Tom." Head boy grinned turning back to his parchment. The boy named Tom sat back down. He sat about 5 people down on the opposite side of the compartment from Edith and I. Edith leaned in to whisper something to me.
"Where does Hogwarts hide these boys the first four years?" she giggled silently. I turned and raised an eyebrow though not in a scolding manner.
"The library. He sits in the same section as I do." I determinedly continue watching the student introductions.
"And you never introduced us, shame Evita."
"I don't know him myself so don't feel so put out." I readjusted my robes not looking at Edith.
"Still, think he's attached? Think that some saucy Slytherin minx may have there paws on him?"
"How should I know? Go talk to him after the meeting Edith." I whispered sharply.
"No, for you…" she was cut off.
"Edith Thomas." The headboy calls out. Edith stood up grinning widely.
"Edith Thomas. I am from Gryffindor house and my favorite class is Divination and I have foreseen us winning the House Cup again this year, so sorry people, you don't stand a chance." This was met by a chorus of cheers for the Gryffindors and hisses from everyone else. People started yelling, throwing things (though not at Edith)
"Happy Edith?" I growl not looking at her.
"What?" she asked. "He's looking this way" she nodded at the Riddle boy.
I did't answer. I tried to make myself as small as possible. Too much attention was directed our way and she was right. I could feel a gaze burn so hot for a moment I had to blink in surprise. I looked up. The odd person or two were casting looks my way but they mostly slide over me and settled on Edith. My eyes settled on Tom Riddle. His eyebrows were furrowed but he didn't break his gaze. Neither did I. His nostrils were flared and jaw was set in a stubborn fashion but his eyes told a different story. They weren't kind, no, just curious and searching. I didn't hesitate to look back because there was little chance of being seen staring coolly at a Slytherin.
"Everybody calm down!" The heads called out. Someone had let a militia of chocolate frogs on the crowd. Girls screamed batting them with handbags, boys shouted spells to try and valiently save the girls from the sticky chocolate. Winston was certainly making a fool of himself. He offered his jacket to Edith to cover her bare legs and was swatting at the frogs with his hands instead of using is wand which was in his pocket.
"I can't stop them Edith! Take cover!" Winston smacked a frog into the window with a sickening thud, followed by a streak of chocolate on the window.
"Use your wand you dolt." I said. Tom Riddle had finally looked away when an army of frogs jumped on his lap.
"Wha?" He was distracted by the neighboring girl throwing a frog his way.
"Oh bloody hell, IMMOBULAS!" Frogs freeze in mid-jump and land with dull thuds on the compartment floor. Everybody turns their head to look at me. I merely scoff.
"Hurry up and eat them people. The spell doesn't last forever." Hands grabbed the frogs from the floor and stuffed them into their owners mouths.
"Thank you Miss. Andrews." The head boy said with a fluster. He, himself had been one of the boys swatting at the frogs instead of using magic.
"Anytime." My voice was dripping with sarcasm.
"Well, let's continue with the introductions. Miss. Rasp, would you please?" the head boy said to the head girl.
"Tzal, Pancal" A dark boy in Hufflepuff robes stood up with a bit of chocolate still dripping down his cheek.