Young Severus Snape sat placidly in a chair in a dark room, lit only by a modest fireplace which cast ominous shadows on the surrounding wall. His long, black hair hung into his eyes, on a face that was already fraught with subtle wrinkles which would soon sink into deep crevices over his skin. His brow was furrowed, his thin lips parted slightly. He looked pensive, but also irritated. He appeared to be waiting for something, or someone.

A door opposite the fireplace creaked open, but permitted no further light into the room. A man stood on the threshold. Snape remained quite still apart from the slight twitch of his head towards the man.

"Severusss..." The name was spoken with soft hiss.

"Tom," replied Snape. He had not moved, his legs firmly planted before the chair, his hands resting on his knees.

"Sssurely," Tom said with a quiet, throaty rasp, "I get a better welcome than that."

Tom walked towards Snape in his chair, the shadow behind him long and disfigured. He was tall and thin, not broad, but very lean. A distinct outline of his musculature was hinted beneath his black robes. Short, dark hair in disarray was swept away from his eyes, which were fine like slits beneath dark eyebrows. His nose was small with large nostrils, and he had a strong, masculine chin. His mere presence commanded power, but Snape did not budge.

"Tom Riddle, I told you not to come here again," Snape said coldly.

Hardly dejected, Tom swept behind the high-backed armchair and draped his hand onto Snape's shoulder. He squeezed it with a surprising gentleness.

"What happened to usss, Severuss?" Tom said. Snape's eyes closed, for pain or pleasure it is hard to be sure. "What happened to our plan? What happened to our quest for the... Wand..."

Snape sneered. "I lost interest."

Tom spun around to face him, descending on his knee. "No you haven't. I know you haven't. We talked about it so much; the power, the possibilitiesss. I know you wanted--want--this as much as I do. So what happened for real, Severusss?"

Snape, being calm, swung one slender leg over the other and gripped the arms of the chair. His young face now showed great distress.

"I think you ruined our chances of having any sort of friendship, Tom." Snape stared blankly.

Tom considered. "I remember that day well. You told me off. You told me to leave. But you never told me why. Why, Sev?"

"I'd rather not say. You understand my wishes and if you respect me even a fraction, you will leave now." Snape suddenly stared at Tom.

Tom replied, "But it was you who acquiesssced to see me, simply by being here. What else could you possibly believe that I wanted other than your forgivenesss when I sent you that message by owl to be home this evening and wait for me?"

"I live here," Snape retorted. "I would not have you force me to leave my own house."

"I didn't attempt to force you. I left you a choice."

"You let yourself in."

"You left the door open."

Silence.

Tom continued. "Tell me why you turned on me that day at Hogwartsss when we were so close to what you and I know we both badly desire..."

Snape was frustrated now. He sat forward in his chair, wringing his hands and staring into Tom's imploring eyes. They had in fact been friends. Good friends. The best of. He had met Tom in his fifth year when he had managed to sneak in to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, searching for the legendary Wand. Snape had caught him but, in exchange for not being ratted out, Tom shared his mission and the two hit it off. Snape had needed someone like Tom just when he arrived. Life at school was hard, what with James Potter and his cronies running aloof. Tom was the perfect role model, years older than him and so very very intriguing. He inspired in Snape a newfound lust for power and the Dark Arts. Their friendship had become something unlike Snape had ever experienced, until...

"Tom, if you need a place to stay, I can offer you that. I know you have been in hiding for some time now. But... my decisions, I promise, are final. I prefer not to disclose my reasons, as they are my own and I feel liberated to keep them to myself."

Tom Riddle looked visibly upset, but also tattered and tired and welcomed Snape's hospitality, even if it was far from what he actually wanted.

Snape gathered up linens and made a bed for Tom, who watched him carefully with a longing contentment. It was just like old times, before everything got messed up. For some reason. Tom's head cocked to the side as Snape bent over to tuck the sheets into the pullout couch. As firm and delicious as ever, Severusss. I will have you yet...

Snape bid a hasty goodnight to Tom, who bowed graciously, and retired quickly to his room.