Still not J. K. Rowling, I really wish I was, but I'm not at her level. Constructive criticism is welcomed as always, so please enjoy!
Chapter 1: A Snake and a Lioness
Tom Marvolo Riddle, or Lord Voldemort as he's better known as, sneered as he looked around the pure white room he found himself in. There was only one other occupant, a woman with hair so red she could've been confused for a Weasley. The woman's bored blue eyes closed when she brought a cup of green tea; how she got it Voldemort had no idea, to her lips and took a long drink. This woman, unknown to Voldemort, was unfortunate enough to have died from sickness. She was honestly more confused than Voldemort, but she wouldn't let it show.
"Do sit down Mr. Riddle; you're making a spectacle out of yourself." A cool male voice said. The woman and Voldemort looked towards the owner in unison. He hadn't been there beforehand, neither had the desk that he was sitting behind. Voldemort sneered once again and took a seat, his mind coming up with ways to kill the man for such an embarrassment, the great Lord Voldemort sitting next to a muggle woman of all things, what a disgrace.
"Where did you even come from?" The woman calmly asked as she crossed her legs, Voldemort dully noted that she crossed them like a man, "It would appear that you sprouted out of thin air." The woman was testing the man that he knew. The man's onyx eyes met the woman's blue eyes and the calculation in them almost caused a shiver to go down his spine. He's seen those types of eyes before; Morgan le Fay herself had them.
"I wanted to exist, but now I believe we are here to talk about you two." The man dodged the woman frowned slightly before schooling her expression into one of calmness. Voldemort had joined her in calculating the man before them, not that he knew it, and felt his annoyance beginning to show on his face. What right did he have to talk to him, Lord Voldemort?
"Do tell." The woman calmly said as she took another sip of her green tea.
"Morgan O'Brien, you died at the age of twenty-four from cancer of the lungs, you are a rather intelligent girl, yet when you took a test called Pottermore you were sorted into a house of courage. That courage is why you are still here at this moment." The man hissed out. Blue eyes sharpened and the man knew he had her attention. That could be a dangerous thing to have, "Tom Marvolo Riddle, you died at the age of seventy-one. You are charged with the crime of creating, not just one, but seven Horcruxes. Your punishment is to relive life alongside my master and make sure that he can defeat you a second time." Voldemort hissed at that, but then remembered that he didn't have his magic. He settled for seething at the man.
"Lovely, but why am I here exactly?" Morgan asked. The man gave a smirk at that.
"You are to make sure that he stays on the right path, and you are to help him with his emotions." The man stated. Morgan narrowed her eyes at that. Tom joined her in the act.
"What do you mean 'help him with his emotions' are you telling me that he actually doesn't have emotions?" Morgan asked. The man closed his eyes as he quickly thought up an answer.
"He has emotions, just not love or happiness. A second chance, even if it doesn't seem like one, will allow him to feel and participate in things he hadn't before." The man responded. Morgan gave a curt nod that showed she understood, "Now, get going you two. Go find my master and help him. Listen to your instincts and grow your magic before Hogwarts."
Before the two could complain their visions turned black and pain erupted through them as they physically shrunk. The two felt their bodies hit something hard, and wet. The smell told Morgan that what they had hit was concrete. She blindly rubbed a hand against it. Yes, it was definitely concrete. Tom grumbled as he attempted to untangle their limbs, his somewhat smaller than Morgan's. She had an easier time and quickly staggered to her feet.
"At least we have clothes on." Morgan said on a light tone. Voldemort, or Tom as he now had to go by, sent her a sneer. She was wearing a simple white dress shirt with a red cardigan, black jeans that hugged her legs laid neatly on the top of shiny black dress shoes. Tom wore similar clothes, except his cardigan was a deep green, "You know this world better than I, so what do we do?"
"We find Potter you stupid girl." Tom sneered. A strange feeling began to burn in his gut, but he pushed it down. Morgan's eyes barely betrayed her hurt and she simply sighed before giving Tom a sly smirk.
"Lead the way all mighty Dark Lord." Morgan said as she held her arms out and motioned for him to lead. Tom gave a sniff and did just that. He led Morgan, who turned out to be a witch when she noticed the Leaky Cauldron, all the way to Privet Drive. A young boy, around their physical age of ten, knelt in a rather nice garden in front of a cookie cutter house. Tom hissed slightly and Morgan rolled her eyes before peaking over the white picket fence. Scaring said boy when he looked up.
"Idiot," Tom grumbled as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. My friend and I were walking around and noticed that you were outside. My name is Morgan, Morgan O'Brien." Morgan said with a small smile. Somewhere in Scotland a large book began to glow and it jumped open. A bright red quill floated through the air before writing down a name, Morgan's name.
"I'm Thomas, Thomas Smith." Tom said as he made up a name on the fly. He may have hated his first name with a burning passion, but it was common and unassuming. Something he would need when facing Dumbledore. Tom's name was added to the book before it stopped glowing and the quill gently landed next to it on its podium. The only witness to the sudden show of magic was a portrait of an old man with sparkling blue eyes and a magnificent beard that caused many curses to be made from it.
"I call him Tom." Morgan said with a small wink towards the boy. The boy brightened up and Morgan quietly thanked the nurses at the hospital she had been in for teaching her how to talk to children. It wasn't her fault that she was terrible at talking to people. Tom sent her a glare and Morgan ignored it.
"I'm Harry, Harry Potter." Harry said with a very small smile. Harry was slightly worried that his cousin might've made the two talk to him, just to get him to show weakness. Morgan kept a small smile on her face as Tom's eyes darkened, the red color eerily resembling blood; he had read what went through Harry's mind. How dare he think that he, Lord Voldemort, would answer to that fat whale of a muggle?
"Well, Harry, we'll have to see you around. I think our Mum's are calling us. Hopefully we'll see you soon." Morgan said with a grin as she linked her arm with Tom's, annoying said boy. Harry gave a nod as the two quickly left Privet Drive, "Take us somewhere safe." Tom complied and took Morgan and his self to the house that belonged to his mother's side of the family. Harry never saw them leave, but he did hear an odd cracking sound that sounded like it could've come from a car. Harry never noticed the crazy cat lady, Arabella Figg, move away from her curtains and rush towards the fire place.
"I will be back." Tom stated. He hated the fact that he had to talk to the mud-blood. Morgan looked at him with slightly sad eyes before turning towards her surroundings. They were filthy and caused her to give an involuntary cough; she always did have a weak immune system. Morgan removed her cardigan and rolled up her sleeves as she began to plan a way to clean up the Riddle mansion, or was it a house? She couldn't remember her memory of the fourth Harry Potter book was a little hazy.
"I guess I better find…he's an idiot." Morgan quietly said before realizing something. Tom came back and felt cold when her sharp eyes turned to him, "When Harry is fourteen your past self will return here, why have you brought us here of all places?" Tom's red eyes narrowed dangerously.
"For your information, you stupid girl, this is not my filthy fathers house. This is one that once belonged to my mother's side of the family; it's been abandoned for years. I never thought to come back to it." Tom hissed at Morgan, his voice cold and sharp. Morgan pinched the bridge of her nose before sighing.
"Sorry, I was wrong." Morgan said, Tom felt some surprise at that before burying it deep, "Do you any idea where the cleaning supplies might be?" Morgan let out a sneeze that moved a flurry of dust around her. Tom pointed to a cupboard in the staircase and took a seat on a dusty couch. Morgan felt her eyebrow twitch when she realized he wasn't even going to help. She wrenched the cupboard open and pulled out a broom, dusting rag, furniture polish, and a very small wand.
"That's a cleaning wand," Tom drawled, "Just swish and flick, it's charmed to only do cleaning spells. It doesn't have a trace on it so it's safe to use." Morgan did just that at the couch he was on. The dusty couch was instantly cleaned and its true color was shown, oddly enough it was a pleasant cream instead of the dark emerald Tom and she had been expecting. Morgan decided that it most likely came from the previous owner. Morgan gave a quiet chuckle at Tom's unamused expression.
"I was making sure it still worked. Good news is it does." Morgan said with a cheeky grin, she couldn't help but act this way. It was the best she had felt in years. She felt like singing Queens 'Don't Stop Me Now' at the top of her lungs.
"Obviously." Tom bit out as Morgan began her cleaning of the first floor, using the wand the entire time. She was done in seconds. Morgan came back with her blue eye sparkling slightly as she put the cleaning wand back in the cupboard. Morgan then lay down on the floor; Tom didn't even bat an eye at it. He might've been getting use to her strangeness; Morgan figured she'd have to step up her game.
"I call dibs on the room with the view of the lake and garden." Morgan piped up. Tom gave a grunt as a response, "At least it's only musty smelling instead of dusty." She was attempting to make some kind of bond with the now Ex-Dark Lord. Morgan felt as though it was a lost cause at the moment and got up off the floor, "I'll be in the garden if you need me." With that she left and went to go see what plants they still had.
"Unlikely." Tom hissed after he heard the door close. What help could a mud-blood be to him? He gave a disgusted shudder as he thought about the obvious option. Tom shook his head, his shaggy black hair following his movements, and got up from the cream colored couch. He wanted to see the room that Morgan had laid claim to. When he was halfway up the staircase he stopped and ponders why he seemed to care, or why he wanted to. Feelings, he decided, were something he didn't need. Sentiment was a weakness. Tom gave a low hiss and opened the white door. The room that met him was nicely lit up by the large windows that overlooked the lake and garden. He could see Morgan looking around the garden and muttering to herself about the plants. Tom felt strange, and he didn't like it. He duly noted the color scheme of the room was on the lighter side and consisted of pastel purples and blues.
He left the room and went towards the library he believed might have some books that would be of use to him. He entered that room and was met with dust; he let out a louder hiss of annoyance and dusted his cardigan off. He stood up straighter when he noticed a bundle of dust moving. He walked towards it and flicked his wrist. A stunning spell hit the bundle and a house elf fell from the dust.
"You are a house elf belonging to this house, correct." Tom stated, he left no room for argument. Another flick of his wrist and the elf was allowed to speak, the creatures large softball shaped eyes looked up at him in slight wonder.
"Yes, Clara is the house elf of this home, are yous Clara's new owner?" The house elf asked. Tom narrowed his eyes slightly, he had to be charming.
"Yes, I am Thomas Smith. Apparently I was left this house." Tom said. There was truth to that since no one besides a Marvolo could enter the house through Apparition. The house would send them halfway across the world if they tried.
"Clara is honored to serves yous master Thomas." Clara said as Tom released her. Clara got up to her small feet and gave a bow, her somewhat clean uniform crinkling at the waist. Tom mused about how uncommon it was for a house elf to actually look like a servant instead of a doormat. Morgan had entered the house once again and found the two without a problem. Clara looked ready to protect her new master from the intruder.
"Clara this is Morgan O'Brien, she is also living here as well." Tom said, sniffing slightly. Morgan sent him an unamused look.
"It's nice to meet you." Morgan said in a kind tone. Clara looked ready to bawl at that, her new mistress had treated her like an equal. Clara was honored and apparated to do some cleaning and get her owners supplies, "That was oddly easy." Tom didn't even give her a response as he searched the shelves for something to read. Morgan was ahead of him and grabbed a beginners Rune book. She sat down in one of the comfortable arm chairs and began to read. Tom sneered as he sat down and opened his book, it was about a dark magic that he hadn't learned yet.
It was quiet, save for the sound of a page turning every once and a while, as they read until the sun started to go down. Morgan was the first to close her book with a slight frown on her face as she stored the information she had learned away in her mind, or rather mind palace. That was something she had created after reading Sherlock Holmes. Morgan left the room with the book and set it on the mahogany desk in her room before heading to the dining hall. Her eyes wandered around the room and fixated on a portrait of a wizard with a magnificent beard. The portrait moved and Morgan just stared at him in amazement.
"Cool." She quietly said. The wizard gave a light chuckle at that and Morgan took a seat at the dining table, "My name is Morgan O'Brien, what's yours sir?"
"My, my, such manners. I am Emrys, or better known as Merlin." The wizard said. Morgan gained a surprised glint in her blue eyes before excitement lit up her features. She was meeting the Merlin, the wizard who helped King Arthur.
"Can Clara get Missus Morgan anything?" Clara asked as she appeared at the girls elbow.
"Some tea and sandwiches please. Make sure you get something to eat as well Clara." Morgan said. Clara was surprised at that, but didn't argue with her mistress. A good servant never argued. Clara gave a small bow and snapped her fingers disappearing from sight, "I don't think I'll ever get used to that." Merlin chuckled at that.
"So I presume Mr. Riddle is here with you?" Merlin asked. It was like a switch was flipped and Morgan's blue eyes darkened and her expression became serious. Merlin was able to hold his ground against such a flip in personality, he was used to it due to Morgan Le Fay, and his own blue eyes met her own, "I hold no I'll will towards him."
"No I suppose you don't, but where is your other portrait?" Morgan asked. Ravenclaw, Merlin mused, that girl was definitely a Ravenclaw. If he was wrong, which was unlikely, he would eat his own hat.
"In the headmaster's office at Hogwarts, sadly the headmasters never talk to me anymore." Merlin said with a very small pout. Morgan rolled her eyes slightly as Tom entered the room. He barely spared the portrait a glance as he sat down at the end of the table, far away from Morgan.
"This won't be shared with Dumbledore, correct?" Morgan asked, she intertwined her fingers and rested her lips against them as she stared Merlin down. Merlin had to admit that she was better than Le Fay at staring someone down to do their bidding.
"Correct, but may I ask why he is here?" Merlin asked.
"Death, Death sent us here to fix something and protect his master." Morgan told him, the truth would be better. Morgan smiled when Clara returned with the sandwiches and tea. Tom raised a brow at the choice in food and Morgan simply sipped on her tea. Earl Gray, not one of her favorites but it'll have to do for the time being. They had no way of opening a vault at Gringotts or getting into one.
"This house is called the Lake Side Cottage; Dumbledore won't know who lives here." Tom drawled. Morgan spared him a slight glance as she bit into a sandwich. Merlin sat down in his portrait and watched the two. It was an interesting dynamic; it was similar to Arthur and himself. Tom, though not as chivalrous and light, was similar to Arthur. Morgan on the other hand was a lot like him, Magic fascinated her and she had a great thirst for knowledge.
"Besides, Minerva writes and sends out the letters." Morgan said before sighing quietly, "What do we do about money, Tom?" Tom paused in his actions to drink some tea, he hadn't actually thought about it. He didn't know, and that infuriated him.
"I don't know." Tom hissed. The truth burned his silver tongue more than he cared to admit. Merlin thought about it for a few seconds, if Tom was placed in a body that was simply a younger version of his self, perhaps he could claim that he was an heir of Slytherin. Merlin told him as such.
"That would work, if your theory is correct. I suppose the only thing we can do is go to Gringotts and try." Morgan stated. Tom hated himself for agreeing.
"Tomorrow." Tom stated as Merlin smiled contently.
"Is there a portable version of you?" Morgan asked Merlin. Merlin thought about it for a few minutes.
"Your best chance is to try and get my chocolate frog card. I can usually move through those as well. A speech charm would allow me to communicate through the card." Merlin said. Tom hadn't known that.
"Nifty." Morgan piped up. She finished her third sandwich before polishing of her tea and standing up, "I believe I will retire for the night. Good night, Merlin. Good night Tom." With that she left the room and went up to hers and changed into her borrowed night gown for the night. Clara had shrunken down one of her old mistresses night gowns. The woman turned ten year old child went to sleep exhausted.
Merlin looked back towards Tom who was frowning.
"Something on your mind?" Merlin kindly asked.
"Feelings are ridiculously underrated." Tom growled. His frown deepened as he tried to figure out the strange, he shuddered to even think about them, feelings that had been piling up at an annoying rate.
"Name one and I might be able to help you figure it out." Merlin said as he leaned forward in interest. Ton spared Merlin a glare.
"I felt a strange unpleasantness when Morgan is around." Tom admitted with a grimace. Merlin smiled, seventy years old in spirit but ten in body, he knew that Tom hadn't had these feelings the first time he lived so he would have no clue how to tell them apart.
"A part of you respects her; you are unused to feeling positive emotions so they feel unpleasant." Merlin said, honestly he thought the two had a rather strange chemistry. Tom gave a derisive snort before getting up and heading to bed himself. He was not looking forward to seeing the goblins.
