The Heir of Slytherin

Tom Riddle III's second year at hogwarts is here. I have written a first year for Tom but I have included all need to know information in this chapter so you don't have to read the first if you don't want to. If you read this and decide you do thats great too. Hope you like my story!

The Leaky Cauldron was bustling with wizards and witches on that day. There was a constant traffic moving through the tavern this particular week. Hogwarts letters had gone out recently and students were all making their way to buy this year's school supplies. Currently there was a family moving through the room, dodging wizards and witches who were actually spending money in the tavern.

The parents were clearly muggles. The man wore a sky blue t- shirt that said Leave it in the Ring across the chest and had two boxing gloves hanging from the bottom of the G. The woman was very coordinated with a cream colored tank top that had a pattern by the neck line and a worn green cardigan that matched her eyes and earrings. With them were two boys. The shorter one had blonde hair that curled tightly on his head. He had thick glasses that could have made the blind man see. The boy strongly resembled the man as both had the same hair and complexion; however, the boy didn't look like the athlete that his father clearly was. The second boy was older and taller, fourteen years old and going through a growth spurt to be exact. The average on looker might say that this boy was the other's older brother; however, this was not true. Upon closer examination one would see that he looked nothing like either of the muggle adults with his dark brown hair and dark, almost black, eyes. In fact he was not part of this family; he was simply a friend of the younger boy's visiting for the summer.

"Hey Tom watch this it's really cool," Scott, the blonde boy, said pulling out his wand and tapping the brick wall. It groaned as it opened to reveal a bustling street called Diagon Alley.

Tom smiled and nodded pretending like it was just as awesome as his best friend thought it was. In reality he had seen better. Scott ran held his hands out to show "pizazz", making his best friend snort. Tom paused for a second to actually take in the street. Wizards and witches were everywhere making their way to the stores that lined the street corner.

Even though Tom had been raised by a wizard and was currently going into his second year at Hogwarts he had never been to this famed street. His father had never planned on sending him to Hogwarts in the first place so visiting the alley would have been pointless. Tom's father was in Azkaban now serving a life sentence. The man had committed more accounts of first degree murder than Tom could count. On top of that Augustine York had openly proclaimed to the world that he was a death eater and so one could also argue that he was in prison for being a follower of the Dark Lord. York wasn't actually Tom's father. That would have been far too simple. His full name was Tom Marvelo Riddle III, son of Tom Marvelo Riddle Jr aka Lord Voldemort. The Dark Lord had raped a woman two years before he attempted to kill Harry Potter, and she gave birth to two twin boys. She raised them until they were three in a remote prison that had been specially created just for her. Then something happened that neither boy remembered causing her death. Augustine York took them in after that.

Jonathan, Tom's twin, died though, when they were seven. Tom didn't know how, but he was there. Something had happened that night. Jonathan looked into his murderer's eyes and said, Long live Harry Potter. There had been a green flash and then all Tom could remember was pain. His father raised him from then on alone until he was thirteen. About a year ago the ministry found them and put both on trial for murder. Tom should've been found guilty. After all his father had been training him in the art of magic since he was three, and it would be a lie to say that all the magic he learned followed a path which the ministry would deem morale. A miracle named Dumbledore happened then and it was agreed that he would go through a seven year trial period at Hogwarts before a final decision was made. This brought him to today, two weeks before the start of the first semester of his second year of Hogwarts.

Tom studied each shop," Where are we headed?" he asked Scott.

Scott shrugged," You said you wanted a new wand right? Why don't we start there?"

Tom nodded and the four headed over to Olivander's. An old man with white wispy hair stood behind the counter.

"You two are a bit old to be buying your first wand aren't you? I know I sold you one last year Rowan wood with a unicorn hair core correct?" Olivander said studying the boys.

Scott nodded and held up his wand showing Olivander that he was still using it.

"Actually sir I would like a new one," Tom said politely.

"You look like you're fifteen why do you need one?" Olivander asked although he was already rummaging through his drawers for a good fit.

"My old one was homemade and I thought one made by a professional would be more efficient," Tom lied smoothly. His old one worked magnificently, his father had crafted it just for him. In light of the events that happened over the past year Tom had thought it best to get a new one. He was forcing himself to put as much distance between himself and the past as possible. Every time he looked down at his old wand a lot of confusing feelings came up, feelings that were easier to burry than deal with.

Olivander raised his white eyebrow and glanced up from a box he was studying, "A homemade wand? It worked? What was it made out of?"

"My father made it, I believe it is oak and the core was a thread from a dementor's cloak," Tom replied quietly.

That made Olivander pause, his eye's shot up as he digested the information, "That's a strange core. What is your name?"

"Tom."

Olivander stared at him with a hard expression for a second. Then there was a slight change in his face. It was microscopic, but Tom couldn't help but suspect the old wand maker knew.

"Of course," he said putting the box back down and moving to another one a few steps down, "What house are you in?"

Olivander was just asking the question to fill the silence in his shop, but Tom knew that the man was relieved when he replied, "Gryffindor, we both are," he said. He pulled out a box and handed it to Tom.

"It is made out of oak like you're last one, dragon heartstring core," Olivander said. Tom pulled out the black wand and held it in his hand. He let his senses explore the wooden object. The oak felt familiar in his hand but all together wrong. It didn't feel right.

"Not this one," Tom replied handing it back to Olivander. The old man looked a little surprised; Tom wasn't his typical inept customer. He knew what it felt like to hold a wand and to belong to it. He would expect no less. They went through several more wands before Olivander gave him the correct one.

"I like the feel of the dragon heart string core," Tom said. "The woods that you are giving me aren't right though."

Olivander nodded and grabbed a box. He stared at it for a second before handing it to Tom, "It is dragon heart string core with yew wood."

Tom nodded and took the wand in his hand. It was the same brown color of his hair and had a slender handle with a design engraved around the end of it. He felt a familiar rush of energy move through his body and that craved to be released through the wooden object he held in his hand. He ignored it though and put the wand back in the box.

"That's the wand," Tom said. Olivander smiled and nodded. Seven galleons later Tom followed Scott out the door very happy with his purchase.

"Come on we're going to the book store now," Scott said pulling Tom towards Florish and Blott's. There was a long line coming out the front door.

"What's going on," Scott's dad asked. The man had his eyebrows drawn together and it was obvious he was trying very hard not to judge all the strange cultural aspects of the wizard world.

Scott shrugged and continued to walk them towards the store. Once they were closer they saw what the commotion was about.

"Gilderoy Lockhart is signing his biography," Scott muttered confused, being muggle born Scott wasn't familiar with the name.

"My dad knew him," Tom said quietly," or at least he had opinions about him. Apparently he's full of it; although, if you want the politically correct version, than he is one of the most successful wizards alive."

"He sounds like a celebrity," Scott's mom muttered as she examined the crowd. They made their way around the massive line that was flowing outside the door. Tom scanned the list of supplies that he needed.

"They are all written by this Lockhart guy," Scott said reading Tom's thoughts. The boys glanced up from the bookshelf in they were standing by and towards the table at the front. A blonde haired man was standing up in the front getting his picture taken with the one and only Harry Potter. For a moment Harry glanced over at Tom and exchanging sympathetic looks. Harry and he weren't exactly best friends; it was more of a mutual respect. The past year they both had a run in with Quirinus Quirrell and they had bonded a bit while recovering in the hospital wing. Harry was also one of two students at Hogwarts who knew about his past, the other being Scott. Tom busied himself with finding the books he needed trying his best to ignore the commotion that was going on behind him.

"Who's that?" Scott asked fifteen minutes later. Tom followed his best friend's gaze towards the line. Two men were conversing in what looked like quite an unfriendly conversation. The first had long blonde hair and an expensive looking black cloak. The other wore worn robes that were a bit faded. His head was full of bright orange hair.

"The blonde one is Lucius Malfoy. The other one must be Ron's dad," he replied nonchalantly.

Scott nodded, "Right you said something about that guy last year right."

Tom shifted uncomfortably, if he remembered correctly the year before he got into a bit of a skirmish with Draco Malfoy. Malfoy had tried to attack Scott and Tom had stepped in. He may have reiterated some of his father's opinions on Lucius Malfoy during the fight. Needless to say the opinions weren't positive.

The two men looked like they were getting violent now as they were standing close to each other very threateningly. "We should go Scott. The Malfoy family won't like you're parents."

Scott understood immediately what Tom was hinting at and the two quickly made their way towards the exit, after paying for their books of course.

On the way out the two boys passed the Weasleys. Tom brushed up against the younger one on his way out. In that moment, for a split second Tom felt a chill wire itself through his body. He was suddenly acutely aware of the oversized dark mark that spread across his chest and spiraled down both arms. The last time his tattoos acted up like this he had been standing face to face with the dark lord. At the time the dark lord had only been a face of course, plastered on the back of someone else's head.

Then as fast as the chill had come it passed. The moment had been so brief Tom almost dismissed it as nothing. Almost. Over the past year he had learned not to dismiss anything as nothing, for most of the time it was in fact something.