AN: Just practicing my hand at diverse roles. Hope you enjoy! ;D

Disclaimer: I don't own HP or its characters.

Predator

"A predator never asks for permission, it takes what it wants without fearing the consequences, dominant and overbearing." – Black Ghostly Curse.

~O~

Weak. Pathetic. I can't allow that to happen, forgotten and disposed of. And he calls himself a wizard. I'll never let that happen to me. What use is magic if you can't stop yourself from dying? Useless. He has no right to call himself a wizard. It's a shame to all wizards and witches. You should keep your head up high with dignity not suffer through retribution. These past few days have been torture. With having to keep my followers in line and keep up appearances with my teachers I don't have much room to breathe or the privacy I wish to acquire. Tedious and troublesome.

Now a disease has taken root that is sustaining me. I can't eat. I can't sleep. This restlessness has taken my very warmth. I can't stand it. My eyes sear the ancient text in front of me. There must be something. I slam my fists on the desk. I will not be chained down by old age and arthritis. I'm destined for greatness. Everyone will know my name. They'll fear me. A cold cruel laugh escapes my lips, rumbling through my chest, echoing a thousand octaves in the enclosed space of my dorm.

Nobody is here to bother me. After putting up with countless witless fools for weeks this is a welcome reprieve. The beds are neat and clean; no ruffled sheets, scattered clothes, food crumbs – gone home for the holidays. A bitter-sweet smile curves my mouth as my mind wanders to the traitorous sea of the orphanage. Garbled words: freak, dirty old rat, abnormal, psycho. Ruthless laughter with fingers pointing, jeering and hooting, stabbing wounds, thump, thump, thump, thump as fists pound into flesh, twisting a hand in my hair and forcing foul liquid down my throat ghosted into my subconscious. I shake my head, dispelling years of torturous memories. What does it matter? Pointless. Hogwarts is my home.

Glaring, I leave the boy's dormitory and briskly push the portrait to the Slytherin common room open and set off at a controlled but hurried pace. My footsteps clap the stone marble floor, clink, clunk, clink, clunk. I enter the third floor corridor on my right.

"Tom."

I skid to a halt. The Headmaster stood, staring at him. Mouth turned down and stern, serious eyes squinting obscuring my view of the big oak double doors leading to the library. He held a thick volume in his hand while his other massaged his beard.

I straighten my back, slipping the scowl urging to crease my features into a blank, impassive mask. My breaths even out and my hearts slows to a steady thrum. "Sir." I deliberately emphasis each word precisely and clearly showing no inflection of the growing irritation rising in my system.

This is going to be trickier than I expected. Of course, I can't just waltz into the library unattended I have to ask for permission. A waste of time in my opinion but still, I have a reputation to keep. Best I not mar my position with unnecessary risks.

"Shouldn't you be at the orphanage?"

I grit my teeth. In the presence of mudblood and filth, I'll settle for a lone cot rather than sully my robes interacting with vermin who can never match my abilities either in skill or brains. "They didn't want me back. Said I wasn't welcome, so I stayed here. I hope that is alright sir. Hogwarts is my only home. I have nowhere else to go."

A strange expression darkens the skin around his eyes. "Surely you have a family Tom, relatives."

Forcing the words out I say, "I do not know sir."

"Hmmm..." he murmurs, nodding.

Coward. I have no patience for dim-witted brash nobles who test my countenance.

"Where are you headed?"

"The library sir. I'm completing my potions assignment-"

He laughs and shakes his head, wagging a finger in my direction he says, "I can't allow that Tom. The library is closed for the holidays. No one is allowed in or out. I've spoken to countless others who have requested simply the same thing. I'm sorry Tom. I'm afraid you'll have to return to your common room."

This is to be expected, unacceptable. I will not be denied entry. Everything I want is stored in there. I clench my fist behind my back. I will get what I want. The stupid wizard doesn't know what he's talking about. He'll allow me. I'll make sure of it; after all, I have my ways. I took a deep breath. I have to do this right. No mistakes.

"Headmaster Dippet, I know what you seek to hide. I can understand why you'd try so hard to deny it. A predator always knows what target to hit." I curled my hand around my wand beneath my robes.

"Tom, what foolishness is this." His cheeks blazed scarlet and his voice rose in an exceptional roar. "Surely you're joking, and if you are, I don't find it very amusing. It's crude and not what I expect an exceptional student like you resorting to." A dent forms on his forehead where his brows brush together. "I'm very disappointed Tom, very."

"Forgive me sir, I was out of line." I lower my head a fraction, briefly, in contrite. I will not bow down to him. Sounding as demure as I can manage, I say, "You see, I have no one else to share my concerns with. I was simply sharing my sympathy."

His face softens and a weary sigh leaves his lips, breathing in deep. "I see."

"I feel alone. I have no one to talk to. You must understand it pains me that the orphanage doesn't want me."

He nods. "I understand Tom." He strides towards me, a sombre expression on his face. "Come with me, we shall go to my office."

As quick as a cobra I whip out my wand. "Obliviate!"

He jolts to a stop inches from me. A glassy film peels over his eyes before he blinks and his vision clears. My green eyes mirrored into them. A cold look shadowing them. Startled, he says, "Tom, what are you doing here?"

I smile thinly, pleased. "Professor Dumbledore sent me here. Said he wanted a word with you in his office. I was just headed to the Slytherin common room when he intercepted me."

"Very well." He pats my back and starts his descent round another corridor, departing shortly after a wave of his hand and a word. "Common room."

Instead of doing what's asked I carefully full sprint to the library doors unlocking the charm sealing them closed. The hinges creak as I shove the door open, quietly slipping in I close the door gently then quickly head to the restricted section. Rows and rows of dusty, worn leather bound books on the bookshelves greet me. Wasting no time, my eyes skim book to book scanning each book as thoroughly as possible without taking too much time. Where is it? It's not been moved, I just saw it here two days ago. I was unable to take it with me at the time.

Frustration caused the muscles in my body to tense, a bead of sweat to dampen my hands and forehead and gratingly clench my teeth. Gradually as I go through them, a book falls out thud. Hands reaching out I snatch the book off the floor. Magic hums from the book, vibrating with power. I flip it to the first page. "Horcruxes..." he breathes.

A smirk teases my lips. A predator always knows when it's his time to shine; it rears and rises to the challenge.