Warnings: Spoilers (CoS, GoF), Bits of Angst floating around.
Feedback: If this story gives you any thoughts I'd love to hear them.
Archive: I'd recommend a shrink and sending me an email or leaving a review to tell me.
Author's Notes: I'm sorry - this is as of yet unbeta'd (anyone feel free to point out typos, or if I used US English somewhere), and it came out in a real jumble. I even forgot what inspired it, but I think it's good enough to be uploaded here. ^_^, If it's not, go ahead and say so - I don't really mind, and you can only learn.
* * *
He's alone again, and the voice is clear in his head.
A high-pitched, mocking sound, parody of a child's voice.
Tom!
He starts running faster, but he's not moving.
Tom?
There are masked faces standing in a circle around him. Hands shaking.
Tom ...
No friends, the only chance at friendship dead by his own hands at his feet.
There's no warmth to be had.
He later forgets getting out of bed. Drawing back the curtains.
Sneaking out silently, like he didn't think he'd have to ever, ever again.
The night air is cool and soothing on his skin, banishing the unnatural flush that his rapidly beating heart has summoned up on it.
* * *
Harry rolls over onto his back on his bed in the Gryffindor fifth-year boys' dormitory.
He has been thinking, long and hard.
"Y'know, Ron .. "
A rustling, then the curtains on the other bed are drawn back, too.
"Voldemort... "
Ron flinches.
"Voldemort, his real name's Tom Marvolo Riddle."
Ron frowns. He knows that.
"I really think... I really think we should call him that. Tom, I mean."
Ron looks baffled, then laughs. "That makes him sound like a muggle."
* * *
Tom is alone again, and he can't get his name out of his head.
Just like he can't kill his father.
His name's somewhere in those muggle books.
It enrages him, and he silently vows to himself that he'll find and destroy all traces he's left in the muggle world.
Even if it does take down that entire world.
All the better, he tries to tell himself.
Tom is alone again, sitting in a corner, and making up plans of revenge.
How he wants to show the bullies, what he'd do if he were a wizard.
But suddenly he is.
* * *
Draco Malfoy turns onto his back and laughs. It's a sharp sound.
He wonders wether his father knows that his precious Voldemort is just a mudblood himself?
"Mudblood." he says out loud.
It doesn't help much.
"Tom Riddle is a mudblood."
He feels a lot better, and the sharpness in his voice catches a slight note in hysteria.
* * *
Tom Riddle has had his dreams come true, and he can't look back.
Tom Riddle most certainly doesn't have any regrets. He hated those bullies after all. Right?
Tom Riddle is alone again, but there's no light switch to switch to see the other children.
There's no old lady to scold him for doing that and waking everyone up.
He has to say it himself, but he can't.
Lumos?