Mirrors and Shadows

By Angelis Raye

Basis: James and Lily Potter were killed in their home with Sirius Black on August 27th, 1983, by a Muggle serial killer on the run. Harry had been staying at Remus's home that the night and so he was not one of the bodies found at Godric's Hallow that night. Because his godfather and all other relatives were dead (and Remus is a werewolf), he was sent to a local orphanage. Tom Riddle, the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts takes an interest in the eight-year old Harry when he sees how set apart the boy is from the others, despite efforts to fit in.

Chapter 1: Going Home for the First Time

Walking down the street, groceries for the week in hand, Tom Riddle watched the passers-by, enjoying his time off from school for the summer vacation. The last few years had a number of problem students, in his opinion, and he was looking forward to having a much more well-behaved group of first year students... hopefully. It was only when he nearly ran into a rather flustered couple with a small boy that he was forced out of his thoughts.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the professor apologized, smiling a little at the boy, who had the most intense green eyes he'd ever seen in one so young.

The woman huffed, her heels clicking against the concrete as she tugged at the boy's arm, attempting to make him follow her into the building they were standing in front of. "Come on," she commanded him, completely ignoring Tom. Her fiancé then helped her with the rather defiant child.

"I thought you said you'd take me home," he complained, finally tearing his eyes off of Tom, frowning at the other grown ups, attempting to pull his arm away from the woman's grasp. "You lied to me!" the green eyed boy protested, now beginning to cry.

"It's only because of all those weird pranks you pulled -- not to mention your behavior," she replied, gritting her teeth, trying to pick the young boy up, to force him into the building, despite what he wanted to do. "Rick, would you give me some help, here?"

Tom backed away, not wanting to become too involved with what was happened, knowing it wasn't really any of his business. He looked over his shoulder, glancing back at the boy, who the woman had accused of being the source of weird happenings around their house. It was a pity, he thought, the boy really seemed bright and aware enough to be a good child, even for a young couple, like the one he'd run into. The thought didn't occur to him that he'd been in front of the local orphanage's entrance until he'd already gotten ready for bed that night.

As Tom lay in bed, he couldn't stop thinking about the scrawny little boy with brilliant green eyes, who he realized, looked quite like he did when he was about that age. What a bizarre coincidence, was his last thought before drifting off into glorious sleep.

–

Following breakfast, Tom sat at the dinning room table in his cosy condo, his wavy, greying hair pulled back into a small ponytail, most of it falling loose around his face, glasses perched on his nose, examining some paperwork on the table before him. He'd already started working on his lesson plans for the next year, but wanted to include the current events, making sure his material wasn't as outdated as Binn's tended to be, as the ghost kept going every year, mechanically, almost. Tom might be considered old by some of his students, at least when compared to someone like Pomona or Severus, but he wasn't nearly as old as Albus, the headmaster, was for certain.

Thoughts of school, the students, at least, brought back thoughts about the green-eyed boy back at the orphanage, which caused Tom to no longer feel at ease, sitting at the table, planning for September, while that boy was likely depressed and alienated. "Seem familiar?" he asked himself, remembering his own experiences in the orphanage he grew up in.

Conflict rose up in him, making him give up on trying to focus on the work he'd set out for himself for a few hours, at least. He needed to take a walk, get his mind off of that boy – it was unrealistic to think that he could adopt such a young child as a single man, who taught full time at a wizarding school in the mountains of Scotland. Although the boy was likely a wizard, too, based upon what he overheard the woman complain about, Tom believed himself someone that was never good with young children – as young as the boy from the day before way. He could handle teaching and tutoring and disciplining his Slytherins and the other students, but taking care of a six or seven year old, full time, on top of his classes?

Really, it was pointless thinking of even the possibility, but the guilt weighed down on Tom's heart, unwarranted thoughts springing up in his mind, supplying many "what if"'s, just making everything that much worse. Sighing deeply, Tom took off his glasses and put them in the pocket of his collared shirt, putting his papers away, grabbing his keys, put on his shoes, and then head out the door, determined to do something about this awful feeling of his.

–

Standing across the street from the orphanage, the fifth time that week, Tom took a deep breath, crossing the small road, glancing around himself, watching for cars, he could hear his own heart pounding in his chest. A part of him told him to get his arse back home, get out of this ridiculous suit and try to forget about the kid and get back to work on his class material. The other half of him was cheering him on, telling him he was making the right choice – that at least seeing how the boy was doing was the best thing to do.

"Hello," Tom greeted the woman at the desk, smooth as ever, smiling his charming smile. Granted, he didn't look nearly as handsome with all of that grey hair of his, but, hopefully, he was still good-looking enough to win some favour.

"Do you have an appointment?" the secretary asked, smiling back at Tom a bit shyly. Apparently, he still had some charm left in him. "I need your full name for the records, sir."

"No, but I wanted to see a boy, he has these bright green eyes – he's probably about six or seven years old?" Tom supplied, his heart pounding even harder as he asked, hoping that he wouldn't be thought of as some sort of pervert or anything. "Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr."

"Oh, you mean Harry?" she asked, her eyebrows raised sceptically, a bit unsure that this man really knew what he was getting into. The boy already had two prospective foster parents change their mind for one reason or another in the past three months. Harry had been there for nearly five years now, and despite how cute and pleasant the boy was, something always happened that left him here, rather than being with a good family, living a normal life. Sure, he was a bit strange, but she couldn't see why so many had rejected him.

"That's his name?" Tom returned, grinning. "If you don't mind, may I see Harry?"

"Sure, he's in his room – number 12 – probably reading or something. He's a good boy," the secretary told him, getting out his file, handing it to Tom to look over. "Follow me," she directed him, standing up to walk down the hall towards Harry's room. After hearing a "come in" following a knock on the door, she opened the wooden door, showing a small boy sitting on the bed, a book perched open before him, a pad of paper next to it with a pencil.

"Harry, dear, Mr. Riddle came to see you today," she said after letting Tom into the room. "Hows your maths book work going?"

"Well," he replied, catching Tom's eyes again. "I saw you last week – sorry you had to see me like that."

Tom didn't know what to say – the boy was surprisingly mature for.... He looked at the file: he was eight, not six or seven as he'd supposed. Much more mature than some of the eleven year old students that he'd taught in his recent years. "It's nice to meet you, Harry," Tom offered a hand, smiling, all self-doubt and conflict vanishing from within up as the boy took it.

"Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Riddle."

"I'd prefer it if you called me Tom," he added, knowing for sure that this boy was much more than he appeared to be – Harry Potter, as his file proclaimed him to be, was most definitely a young wizard. And Tom would be damned if he left the boy here to suffer much as he had when he was that age.

"Tom," Harry repeated, grinning for the first time, in front of Tom – the first time in a week, at least.

–

A week and a half later, Tom came to the orphanage with all of the appropriate paper worked filled out and signed, dressed in his best suit, dyed his hair, and even had his hair cut for this meeting. After all, as an older single man, he had to make the best impression possible, for Harry's sake, so the boy wouldn't be let down, once again. Everything had gone well up until now, but today, he was meeting with the headmistress of the orphanage, who ultimately would sign Harry into Tom's custody.

If Tom had been nervous the first day he'd set foot inside the orphanage, he was even more so today, with such an important decision being made, all depending on if the woman in charge of the children determined if he was suitable to raise Harry properly.

The meeting, however, went surprisingly well, all the paperwork was co-signed by the headmistress, and they shook hands on it, and he was congratulated on becoming a father. It was all a bit much for Tom at the moment and it made him somewhat dizzy with emotion Tom didn't know he had. By the end of it all, he was standing outside the door to the orphanage with Harry, who was just as excited as he felt.

"Are you ready to go home?" Tom asked, grinning at his new son.

Beaming, Harry smiled wide, nodding, grabbing Tom, hugging him tightly. "Thank you so much," he said as he let go, taking the man's empty hand, walking down the street to where he'd live from now on. And Tom wasn't going to break his promise and take Harry back – after all, he'd told Harry what he was and what Harry, himself, was and what he really does for a job..... Things weren't going to be so bad, after all, Harry believed, truly happy for one of the first times in his life: he'd get to learn how to be a wizard!

--

Yes, very AU, but, this is always what I've thought of (well, non-dark version) when I thought of Tom adopting Harry. Don't see too many of these kind of fics, eh? For the readers of either WAITS or Dark Lord, I appologize for not writing another chapter of either of them -- this was something that was burning inside of me. I haven't written for Tom in ages and it's not exactly something to repress, I suppose. Been writing too much of Draco, apparently.

Tom has been teaching for 38 years, at this point -- longer than Minerva McGonagall, as the Defence Against the Dark Arts position opened before Dumbledore became the Headmaster, making the Transfiguration position open to Minerva. I'll detail more about the past in later chapters. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter; I certainly had fun writing it.

Reviews are greatly welcomed, and so are questions -- which will be answered to the best of my best ability!