Disclaimer – Do I look like a female British Billionaire? My bank account has about $5.00 in it with all the school expenses I have, and I am most definately not female. Hence, Harry Potter, Tom Riddle, and any other references to characters, places, spells, or anything from J.K Rowlings Harry Potter series do not belong to me, they are just being borrowed to show the direction I would have liked the series to go in.

Harry Potter and The Shifting Sands

Chapter 1 – There is no Good or Evil

It was a cool midsummer day, with the wind frolicking through the trees, and birds hiding in the massive hedge garden that flanked the old brownstone home. It was a magnificent example of a home, a giant manor ostentatious enough to impress the neighbors with a display of old wealth, a rather normal front for families with ancient pedigrees. The grounds of this manor were sprawling, the large maze of hedges filled with many strange looking plants, seeming to go on for miles. Many of these were very strange looking plants, for you see, the family that owned this home would not be what most would describe as normal.

What is normal you might ask? That would depend on who you were speaking with. If you asked the neighbors, you might get something like this.

"Freaky old lady, that one, she hardly ever leaves the house" from one neighbor. "Odd folks coming and going all the time - men wearing dresses I tell you! And owls, all kinds of owls if you can believe it, flying in and out of the house...not quite all there upstairs if you get my meaning." from a gentleman, his hand gesturing towards his head, pointing one finger and moving it in a small circle.

The immensely fat old lady that lived here, who was hideously rich and possessed a terrible fashion sense, would say she was completely normal. Completely normal for a witch that is.

Yes, indeed, a witch that could trace her roots back to one of the greatest in the history of the wizarding world. This witch, Hepzibah Smith, a distant descendant of Helga Hufflepuff, was about to have one bugger of a day. An utter disaster of a day that in the distant future would serve to give an extremely lucky wizard another chance to fix things, though he might not be thankful for it.

Unfortunately for Hepzibah, the stage was set, a conversation from two days ago setting wheels in motion. The end of her life was on its way, and nothing could stop that now.

Death arrived in the form of handsome tall dark haired young man with dark eyes, wearing a robe black as the night appeared with a light crack of sound near the hedge maze. Bending down, he pulled a pair of common garter snakes out of his robe pocket and set them gently on the ground. The two snakes coiled up, appearing to look at the man's face.

A trait inherited from another of the powerful old family's, the Gaunts, last descendants of Salazar Slytherin, reared its head once again. A staccato of hisses emanated from his throat, a long lost language known as parseltongue, which allowed those so gifted to speak with snakes..

"One of you,go, scout the maze and find near the center a nesting place that is well defended, then return to me. Make sure it is well hidden, and memorize the surroundings. Report to me inside. Go!"

One of the snakes rapidly uncoiled and moved off into the hedge maze. Glancing at the other snake, the young man hissed again.

"You, go to the manor, I must know where the old witch and her house-elf are. Once you locate them, scout the rest of the house for any others, then return here immediately."

Reaching into his robe pocket he pulled out his wand, a 13 ½ inch slender cut of yew with a phoenix feather core, and tapped the snake on the head. Shimmering, the snake seemed to disappear, blending in with the surroundings.

"Go, quickly, make sure you are not stepped on!" he commanded.

"Such a useful tool, the disillusionment charm, foolish thing would be spotted in a moment without it" he muttered under his breath.

Digging in a robe pocket, he quickly located three of the items he was carrying. One of these, a small vial filled about halfway, contained dried and ground aconite, which would he thought would be extremely useful. Another vial, partially filled with veritaserum, a colorless odorless potion that resembled water but forced the drinker to tell the truth, was perhaps the most important part of his trip here – three drops and Hepzibah would tell him anything he wanted to know.

The last item was the most difficult for him to acquire, and probably the most dangerous. It was a good thing Borgin and Burke, the owners of the specialty magic item shop he worked for, were very susceptible to mind altering spells such as the Imperius or a simple obliviate. Otherwise the young man would have been out of a job sooner than he was prepared for. A dazzling crystal hourglass with a golden chain, delicate and fragile, but almost frighteningly powerful, lay in his palm. It was a time turner, larger than the ministry standard size, the bottom half filled with a shimmering sand.

Glancing around at the mansions surrounding the Smith manor, his anger grew, for the resemblance to the country manor his worthless father called home was uncanny. His father was a muggle, without a spec of magic to his name, and had retreated to his family home after learning his wife and son were blessed with magic. "Freaks" he called them, and left poor Merope Gaunt to die, forcing his own son into a miserable life at an orphange.

The wind blew with sudden force, responding to the darkness of his anger, the vials beginning to rattle in his pocket. He quickly calmed himself, remembering the pleasure and rush of power he felt as he enacted his revenge. His father had been nothing more than stepping stone on the way to his own greatest desire- Immortality.

"Filthy muggles" he muttered "Soon all of them shall be dealt with."

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It was not long before the snake searching the house returned. Reaching down, he allowed the little reptile to wrap around his hand, from where it rapidly climbed up to wrap around his neck. Hissing rapidly to him it spoke.

"Master, the witch is sitting near the fireplace reading, the elf is tending to her. The house is otherwise empty"

"Excellent, my pet, excellent. Stay quiet and hidden until I give you another task." he hissed commandingly. The snake rapidly moved around his neck, resembling a choker, but still under the effect of the disillusionment spell.

He stood, walking briskly towards the house, approaching the front door quickly. It was a large door, heavy and quite solid, with an ornate golden door knocker with the name Smith carved in silver. He stood quietly, waiting – a deadly spider patiently stalking prey. The door opened suddenly, opened by a short ugly little thing, the house-elf. The elf quickly bowed and spoke.

"Master Riddle, the mistress be in the sitting room, ill go let her know you arrived."

Turning, the elf headed towards the sitting room to lead the way. Riddle pulled his wand out and began casting in one smooth motion.

"Imperio" he cast quietly. The elf fell to its knees. Pulling the vial of veritaserum out of his pocket, he handed it to the elf and commanded "You will put this in the tea for your mistress, and then destroy the vial. You shall not speak of this to anyone." The elf bowed rapidly, small hands slapping the ground, face nearly doing the same, and popped away to do his bidding.

Riddle continued to the study, knowing the secret to what he was seeking was contained in the mind of Hepzibah Smith. The location of Hufflepuff's cup, and The Gaunt family heritage his mother was robbed of, Slytherin's locket.

"Raggard-looking women who must have stolen it. Slimy bastard, Burke is going to pay for that, yes indeed" he muttered again.

As he walked into the study, the old witch looked up and smiled brightly, teeth nearly as blinding as her hideous yellow robe

"Tom! What a pleasant surprise, I wasn't expecting you so soon. Please, have a seat. Tea? Biscuits?" Hepzibah offered Tom in the manner any excellent hostess greets a guest.

"Just some water would be fine." he replied bruskly. "Hokey!" Smith called out "A glass of water for Tom immediately and a cuppa of Tea for myself! Moments later, the house elf popped in with the refreshments, served them, and popped out. Smith reached for the cuppa of tea, took a long drink, and set it down with a slight clang on its saucer.

"So, what brings you here today Tom? I must say, this visit has slightly unsettled me, I did not expect you for at least a week or so." Hepzibah spoke with a tremor in her voice, the veritaserum the elf laced her tea with working quickly, reducing her inhibitions and forcing her to tell the truth, the slight pinkness of her cheeks and the pinpricks her pupils had become letting Riddle know she was ready to be questioned.

"Hepzibah, sorry to say I am here on a serious business matter" Tom spoke coldy, his eyes flashing red for a moment. He then continued with a hint of command in his voice "I seek Hufflepuff's cup, and my mothers locket, Slytherin's locket. Where are they?"

"They are located in th... no, I don't want to... must not let.." Hepzibah struggled, obviously in pain, Tom commanded once more, pulling his wand as he spoke. "WHERE are they! Imperio!" he cast. "Tell me, NOW!" The combination of the Imperius curse and veritaserum did the trick – Hepzibah's eyes went blank, and she spoke, to Riddles immense satisfaction. "Hufflepuff's cup and Slytherin's locket are located in in the antique display case in the sitting room."

With a bright flash, an elegant trophy case flashed into existance alongside the china cabinet on display. His eyes widening momentarily, then shrinking to two slits of red, Riddle spoke "The Fidelius charm – Interesting, I would never have guessed you capable. Call your house-elf."

"Hokey!" Hepzibah called. Tom waved his hand, and Hepzibah's tea floated in front of him. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the vial of aconite. Tilting it slightly, he poured it into the tea, and with a wave of a finger, mixed it up just as the house elf appeared with a pop. Another wave, and the tea floated to rest in front of Hepzibah.

"Drink" Riddle commanded. Smith picked up the cup of tea, and drank it to the dregs, some dribbling down her chin. "Finite Incantatem" he cast, hitting both Smith and her faithful elf. Both shivering, the elf cowered on the floor, while Hepzibah looked on in horror.

"What have you given me, what have you done to me" she exlaimed frantically, clutching at her throat. "How could you, you always seemed such a good man."

Tom glanced at her, eyes blood red, a malevolent glare that made her shiver. He spoke, voice as cold as ice "My lady, there is no good, there is no evil – Only power, and those too weak or too afraid to sieze it. And, dear Hepzibah, that question would have been better phrased as what have you done to yourself."

Pointing his wand at her, in his cold, frightening voice incanted "Crucio!" With a scream of pain, Hepzibah fell to the ground, shaking violently. "One who seeks to hide the treasures of Salazar Slytherin from his own heir shall feel the wrath of Lord Voldemort. It's a pity you wont be around to warn anyone, but I am not prepared for that just yet. Goodbye, Hepzibah."

With a laugh that chilled to the bone, Tom Riddle, who would later come to be known as the darkest wizard who ever lived, Lord Voldermort, stood up and pointed his wand once more. "Obliviate" he cast at the hapless elf. "You served your mistress tea with a large helping of what you thought was sugar, and cream – the way she always takes it. No one was here, no one has visited." The little elf bowed, and popped off to continue whatever her normal duties were.

Voldemort strode quickly over to the trophy case, and with a wave of his wand it opened. Gathering the locket and the cup, he walked over to Hepzibah. Leaning down slightly, He whispered "The aconite works swiftly, and your death will come shortly. I want you to die knowing you had a hand in helping me live forever. Soon even that righteous fool Dumbledore will tremble at the power I command!" his voice shook slightly as he spoke, the thought of so much power overwhelming, but oh so desireable.

Setting both boxes on the table, he opened the box containing Hufflepuff's cup. Reaching in, he held it up to the light, enjoying the feeling of power it seemed to contain. Holding the golden cup, he waited.

It was not long before his attention was focused on a hissing snake that was rapidly approaching, the garter snake he had tasked with searching through the sprawling gardens. "Master, I have found a place, it is dark and warm, not easy to get to. There was one plant that tried to stop me, squeezing painfully, but I escaped."

"That is excellent news... I will go check its suitability soon soon." Voldemort hissed back. His eyes glazed momentarily while looking at the snake, gathering the memory he would need to apparate there, then snapped into sharp focus.

Hepzibah's breathing suddenly slowed, becoming ragged, with a hint of death's rattle. Quickly turning back to his victim, Voldemort held up the cup in one hand, aiming his wand with the other. Immediately before Smith drew her last breath, Voldemort rapidly cast a spell. Suddenly going pale, he almost dropped both cup and wand.

A flash of dark lightning appeared, traveling from Voldemort's wand to the cup, glowing for a moment with a red light. The cups glow slowly converged on one point, changing the eyes of the badger to an unholy red, the color of blood. As quickly as it came, the lightning ended, the red glow of Tom's eyes dying out to a more normal green, tinged with red. "That was... unexpected" Voldemort muttered.

Looking towards a mirror on the wall, he noted his slightly changed appearance. Pale, with dark eyes, tinged with the color of blood, that was the image staring back at him. If this was the price to pay for immortality, it was something worth bearing. Still clutching the cup, he shrunk the box containing the locket and slipped it into his robe pocket.

With the now empty hand, he leaned down and hissed "Come, let us go examine this nest." Winding around his arm rapidly, the snake settled onto his forearm while Voldemort strode for the door. Once he was out, he apparated quickly to the location he took from the snake.

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Appearing in a dark and damp section of the hedge maze somewhere near the middle, Voldemort was surprised by a large devils snare that was attempting to rapidly surround him with vines. Waving his wand, a jet of flames shot out, forcing the plant to release him.

He looked around, appearing rather pleased with the look of the area. "Yes, this will do quite nicely, time to set up some defenses" he hissed to the snakes.

Pointing his wand, he rapidly cast several powerful notice-me-not charms, in addition to wizard, muggle and animal (both magical and normal) repellent charms. A quick engorgio and dissillusionment charm on the devils snare, and the defenses for the first of these magnificent artifacts would be nearly ready. Just one last final touch would keep it protected for an eternity.

Voldemort set the cup upright on a small bed of rocks he conjured. Reaching into his robe pocket, he grabbed the time-turner, careful not to tip the hourglass he held it carefully over the cup. Pointing his wand, he cast "finate incantatem" on the time-turner to remove the protection charms. With a swift downward motion, he broke the end of the hourglass, carefully pouring the sands into the cup making sure not to touch any of the grains.

Once again, he aimed his wand, this time at the sands in the cup, but standing well back, he casts an animation charm. The sands seem to come to life, surrounding the cup in a golden dome, everything inside taking on a hazy, transparent look.

"It is done." Voldemort hisses quietly to the two snakes. "There is much to do, much to take care of. Remain here, I have no further need of you at this time." Reaching out, Voldemort allows the two snakes to climb down his arms, rapidly retreating into the darkness of the hedges. With a slight crack, Voldemort dissapeared.

In a small dark room, empty except for a small bed, a dresser with an empty cage resting upon it, and broken computers, electronics and other gadgets, nearly half a century later a young man with a scar tossed and turned in his bed, until with a gasp, both hands reaching for his forehead, green eyes opened in the darkness.

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This is my first attempt at a story, so have pity on me please :) Id love some reviews and constructive criticism.

Dreamweave