Okay guys! New story. Will be about ten chapters, classic horror genre. The first chapter is just explanation and getting the cogs turning, but I hope you enjoy it all the same! Next one out later this week.

It was raining the morning of the Funeral. It was raining, the church was stuffy, his shirt was overly starched and Thomas Riddle Jr. was bored beyond belief. The pastor, priest, whatever he was, droned on terribly and the sound of weeping and sniffling had long been irritating him. He shifted his legs around, kicking the small woven pillow that sat at his feet.

'LOVE THY LORD', the pillow read. Riddle smirked, nearly rolling his eyes at the ridiculous sentiment. There was little he loved and a Muggle God certainly wasn't on the list. His eyes slid to the woman sat beside him. Another thing he could never bring himself to love.

His Mother's black-cloaked shoulders shook with sobs as tears rolled down her pale, sculpted cheeks. The pathetic creature must have sensed his gazed and turned her head to look at him. Merope Riddle was an attractive older woman, graceful in her age, with large, clear blue eyes and silver-blonde curls, but today; puffed-up red eyes, shaking lips and mascara-stained cheeks rather ruined her elegance. She offered him a small, sad smile, lifted a black-gloved hand and placed it upon his knee. Tom wrenched it away immediately, returning her caring look with a scowl, that slowly rose into a harsh smirk. The smile disappeared from Merope's face as the pair of them stared into each other's eyes. His glare conveyed insolence, anger - her's reflected only fear.

"We therefore commit Thomas Riddle's body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in the sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life."

One month later.

"Here we are, m'love," the cab driver said, tapping lightly on the pane of glass that separated the two sections of the motorcar.

Hermione grunted slightly, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Do excuse me, Sir, I must have dropped off."

"That's quite alright love, it was rather a long way."

"Yes, it is getting rather late - dark already!" she said, looking out into the night.

It was intimidating, being brought to a new area, with little idea of who she was meeting or what to expect. A new job had been the incentive to travel across the country and leave her tiny flat in Diagon Alley. Before, she had been tutoring students during the school holidays, whilst juggling research for her first book - an extensive piece of work on the History of Magic. Tutoring students was gratifying, but it barely paid the rent. Then, out of the blue, her former Headmaster from Hogwarts, Professor Albus Dumbledore, sent her a message - a Mother was looking for a Governess for her seventeen-year-old son. The role required her to tutor him during the day, in an array of subjects, whilst the evenings and weekends belonged to her. Though she herself was only twenty-years-old, she had plenty of experience teaching and a great deal of knowledge in all magical subjects. The job included a room, board and, according to her old Professor, one of the largest private libraries in Britain. It all seemed too good to be true and, had Dumbledore not vouched for the validity, she would have remained in London.

"How much do I owe you?" she asked the cabbie as she pulled on her coat, hat and scarf.

"No worries, it's already been covered," he replied, sending her a big smile.

"Oh!" she cried, smiling widely. "Well, that's wonderful."

Just as she began to open the door, the cabbie stopped her. "Just one word, love, before you leave."

"Yes?"

"This house and the family that own it. They're pretty well known around here for being, well, a little odd..." his voice was hushed, as if he were worried about being overheard.

"Odd, how?" Hermione replied. She guessed the Muggle village had heard rumour of strange happenings in the magical household. It was nice to get their view of her new employers, in fact, it had been her idea to travel by car as opposed to Floo for the very reason of getting to know the layout of her surroundings. However, due to the darkness and the twisting, turning roads she little idea whether or not there were buildings nearby, or countryside.

"Well, there's been a couple of...accidents up there. People disappearing and the like. It's always been owned by the same family but recently - and I'm talking in the last year - three of 'em have died. There was the two old folks and then, only a month ago, the Master of the 'ouse. Just the Mistress and Master left now. Seems odd, is all, none of the original family left - and they own half the valley. It's like the wife and boy moved in and a sickness spread, or something."

Hermione blinked a couple of times, uncertain of what the man was trying to insinuate. "I'm sure it's nothing like that, Sir."

"Just be careful, love. Wouldn't like to hear that a nice girl like you has gone missing," he said, giving her another crinkled smile, though his bespectacled eyes were filled with worry. "And - sorry I'll let you go in a second - watch out for the boy. He's got a bit of a temper on him according to the girls in the village. Never liked to play nice."

Hermione smiled and nodded at him, slinging her satchel over her shoulder and picking up her small suitcase. "I'll make sure to keep him at arm's length, don't you worry!"

"That's my girl! Well, if you ever get lonely up in that big old house and fancy an outing, take a walk down to the village. Lots of nice types around, all very welcoming. I tend to be in The King's Arms Pub on the weekends, if you need a friendly face to talk to. Name's Bernard Jennings, by the way."

"Hermione Granger," she replied, grinning at him. "And I certainly will! Have a lovely evening, Mr Jennings."

"Bernard, please. Best of luck, remember what I said. Now, it's up that driveway there, in between those bollards. Quite a driveway, sorry I can't get any closer."

With that, she unlocked the door and stepped out into the night. Much to her chagrin it was pouring with rain and her wand was packed away in her bag. She had magically enhanced her suitcase so that it could hold all of her belongings, so there was no chance of finding it in the dark. As Bernard's cab pulled away, Hermione turned to face the lights that framed the driveway. Rain pelted against her skin as she turned her face to look at the entrance to the house. The wrought-iron gate was intricately designed to look like a writhing mass of snakes that framed the words 'RIDDLE MANOR'.

In the darkness of the night it was near impossible to see any detail to the hulking black mass that was Riddle Manor, but even from the vague, shadowy outline, she could tell that it was gargantuan. It was a short walk from the gate to the porch but the sheer volume of rain falling from the sky caused Hermione to be soaked to the skin by the time she arrived. Eager to get into the warmth of the house, she pressed her finger to the doorbell. A loud shriek echoed inside, yet, even after five minutes, no-one came to greet her. The family were definitely aware that she was arriving this evening, they had to be in! Eventually, Hermione banged her fist against the shiny black door and found that it swung open upon impact.

Tentatively, she entered the hallway, finding it well lit and delightfully warm. After gently closing the door behind her, she walked further into the cavernous room, mouth agape as she took in the incredible features. Two sweeping staircases lined the room, leading to a large landing that held three, dark green doors. To her left and right were two other rooms, one which looked like a sitting room, the other a large, open ballroom. The hallways stretched on and on in both directions, so far that she could only see darkness at either end. Straight in front of her was a small set of armchairs and numerous tables that were decorated with vases of lilies, whose scent lingered heavily in the air. The floor was a black and white chequered marble, and the majority of the walls were a deep emerald green, though a number were simply a shining mahogany - each was lined with paintings. The most prominent was that placed above the lilies, a large portrait of a very handsome man, who looked to be in his forties. Unlike the others, this picture was not magical and the gentleman remained motionless, silent. It was an odd addition to the magical household, but nevertheless, it certainly stood out due to the quality of the artwork and the presence of the figure within.

The house was, in short, beautiful. As she took in the sight of her new abode, she failed to notice the set of eyes that watched her from the darkness of the landing.

"Hello?" she called, now stood in the centre of the room. No reply - simply the sound of her own voice echoing throughout the halls. Nervously, she turned to look back at the entrance door. Perhaps she should leave, head to the village for the night and return in the morning?

"Hello?"

Hermione nearly jumped from her skin at the sound of another voice. She span back around to see a tall figure standing on the landing. It was a young man, impeccably dressed in a dark jumper and dress trousers. His hair was dark, neatly parted and his skin was a pale alabaster, sickly almost, though she couldn't deny he was a handsome specimen. He was leaning against the wooden bannister, bent at the waist with one hand stuck under his chin, as if he had been observing her for some time.

"Goodness! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there," she said, placing her suitcase down on the ground and removing her gloves. "Um, I'm looking for the owner's of this house."

"You'd be looking at one of them, Miss-?" the man replied, pushing himself off the bannister. He began to walk down the left staircase, never taking his eyes from her. He wore an odd expression - a friendly smile, with a strangely cold gaze.

"Granger. Hermione Granger - I've just been employed as a Governess here." As she spoke she removed her sopping wet hat and placed it into her handbag, patting down her hair. The young man stood in front of her now, a little closer than she would have liked, in fact, his presence was a little unnerving. As she mentioned her new position within the household, the man's smile seemed to drop and he shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

"I see. My Mother's newest idea," he said, coolly. "I must inform you that you won't be needed for as long as she's told you." Hermione raised an eyebrow. He accentuated ever reference to his Mother with a harsh tone and his upper lip curled slightly as he continued to speak. "She wanted me to be privately tutored, you see, rather than going back to Hogwarts. But I doubt there is anything you can teach me that I don't already know."

Both her eyebrows raised at this remark. "I can assure you that I am very capable - Master Riddle, I take it?"

"Quite," he replied, quietly, as a smirk pulled at one side of his lips. "Tom, if you'd prefer."

"Tom," she repeated, nodding. "May I speak with your Mother?"

"Not tonight," he said, brusquely. "She'll be out of action tonight - far too much wine with dinner. But it is late and I suppose it would be rude of me to cast you out into the rain."

"Quite rude, yes," she said, abruptly, unable to stop herself. Tom's eyes glinted at her sharp remark and that unnerving, toothy smile appeared again. He bent to pick up her suitcase and jerked his head in the direction of the right staircase.

"Do follow me, Miss Granger, I will show you to your quarters. My Mother has had a set of rooms prepared for you, I'm sure that you will find everything to be of an impeccable standard," he eyed her wet coat and mussed hair momentarily before heading across the hall. "If you would like to dry yourself off and set your bags down first, I would be happy to bring a nightcap up to your room. I tend to stay up rather late reading anyway, so we could chat a little more before you meet my Mother in the morning at breakfast."

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "I'm afraid I am very tired from my long journey, Tom. Would it be okay if I get some sleep?"

The man stopped just as he placed his foot on the first stair, turning to face her. He looked rather irritated, or rather, angered by her refusal, but nodded.

"Of course," he held up her suitcase and gestured for her to continue up the stairs. "Follow me."

They entered the third door to the right at the top of the stairs, then continued down a long, candle-lit corridor before arriving at a green door which bore a plaque marked 'MISS . H. GRANGER'. Tom halted and reached for the doorknob, once again gesturing her into the room. She rather disliked the way he controlled her movements, but at this early stage assumed the man was nervous about meeting new people. It certainly didn't seem like the Riddles had many staff or companions to speak to.

Tom stayed outside of the threshold, placing her suitcase just inside of the door. He stood up to his full height, a good number of inches above her, and smiled, eyes narrowing ever-so slightly.

"You will meet Mother in the morning, in the breakfast room at nine-thirty. There is a mapped layout of the house on the desk in your sitting room, but I'm sure you will have no trouble finding it," he said. "I wouldn't unpack entirely, Miss Granger. I have informed my Mother that I do not need tutoring in any subject and, despite her pestering, I'm sure upon your initial assessment tomorrow afternoon, you will see that too."

Hermione blinked, astonished at the young man's self-assurance. "Everybody needs a little help, Master Riddle, even those with great knowledge."

"We shall see," he replied. He cocked his head and smirked again, looking down at the ground and then back up at her. "You know, no-one has referred to me as 'Master Riddle' in some time. I like it, use that instead."

With that, Tom turned on his heel and closed the door to her room behind him. She heard the faint tapping of his footsteps, fading into the distance. As she picked up her suitcase and made her way into her quarters, her thoughts couldn't help but linger on the strange, petulant boy she was to live with and his mysterious Mother.