Chapter 2: The question that's been burning

Author's notes: I know the last chapter was kinda boring, but I really had to make it. Don't expect this one to be all that better, but still, there must be some improvements on the action. I hope you enjoy! o/

Oh, and by the way, I invented the directions in the last chapter… I hope the description is not too lame! I'll also have to make a description on this one, although of a different thing, and I really hope it's not very confusing. It wasn't my intention. Feel free to make some corrections, if you want. :-) And review too! I'm a little nervous with this whole thing, publishing a fanfic and, as if it wasn't enough, doing it in English… Oh well!

Disclaimer: Go read the disclaimer in the first chapter. Then go read a dictionary. Then get to understand that a fanfiction is a fan's work, and that we do this because we love it, and not because we want some share of Rowling's fortune (actually, I wouldn't really mind, but you get the point, I hope). Besides, it's not like this is worth something. I know I wouldn't pay for it:-P

Summary: It shouldn't be necessary by now, should it?


Skipper kept walking for a long, long time, her mind wandering lost on what she had just found out. She was a little confused. «Tom Riddle, at an orphanage?» It didn't make sense. It was true that she barely knew him, at least personally, because in a general way he was too much popular to be ignored. And although every one at Hogwarts praised him, fact was that he himself didn't talk that much about his life. He liked to keep some secrecy, and even she had noticed that a long time ago. Why, it was unknown. How, when every student kept trying to befriend him and know more about him, could only be explainable by the constant feeling of respect he imposed around him, like some kind of perfume. No one wanted to annoy him, as fuss about his life would.

Still, not all the students were that scrupulous. Specially the ones from Slytherin, with whom he had to deal everyday. Eventually, it was only natural that someone would confront him, moved by jealousy or just plane and uncontrollable curiosity. Certainly, many girls liked the mysterious type, but aside from them, everyone was pretty much annoyed by it. Not that people would spend that many time thinking about it. Tom was not that interesting. «But eventually… Eventually, something would have to be found!», her mind yelled.

She could only imagine how it had been in the beginning, when he was just an eleven old kid entering a new school without anything of special about him, or at least that people could tell right away. «I mean, it's not like he had a scar right in his forefront and had destroyed the most evil wizard of all times at an young age, right?». An eleven old prick, of whom no one knew anything about, didn't impose enough respect to repeal all kind of snooping people. And to say that there are always kids more than eager to find out more about their future classmates is an understatement. She herself had suffered on the hands of one or two girls so desperate to befriend her, as lonely as they felt about leaving home and knowing no one on this new stage of their lives, that their efforts to synthesize their whole lives in just one train trip from London to wherever Hogwarts was, was certainly remarkable. And they always expected the other person to act likewise, for it would only be fair (although no one ever asked them talk in the first place).

So someone had, at some point, to have made him some sort of inquisition. That was for sure. Still, the burning question remained: how had he managed to deal with it?

She didn't know, for she would only enter school on the year after that one (and Skipper never really made an effort to know, as it could bring her trouble), but truth remained that somehow he had been successful 'till now, 5 years later, and that only was even more remarkable than whatever some babbling girls did.

And what about her being the one to find it all? She never even looked for it, not even once! Skipper liked to read and to keep informed, but not about gossip! That was too much information! And too much information often leaded to trouble. It had been an accident, a coincidence. She had been about to walk by the building when she had to stop to let some kids get in with a teacher. Involuntarily, they dragged her attention upon the front door, while she patiently waited for them all to enter it, since the sidewalk was small. Sighting, her eyes deviated a little to the right, where the window was. Then, she saw him. It took just one or two minutes for that to happen, and there it was.

But giving it second though, she concluded that it would be all fine as long as she kept quiet about it. Tom hadn't seen her, so basically, now both had a little secret to keep, difference being that Skipper knew Tom's and he didn't know about hers, which was exactly the fact that she had found about his secret.

Not that she was scared or something! Tom Riddle was like the ultimate gentleman – he would never do something that might trouble him later. He was perfect! Too perfect, actually, but again, that was none of her business!

So, basically, Skipper decided to pretend not to know a single thing about the matter.

Tom Riddle wasn't an orphan! Tom Riddle didn't live in an orphanage during summer holidays! And maybe if he did – well, who was she to know such a thing? She was clueless! She knew nothing! She didn't even want to know! She was just running back at the orphanage, in the hopes of catching one more glance of him and make sure it was Tom. Hence, she didn't know, but she HAD to know, just so she could pretend not to know again, because otherwise she could very well be pretending not to know something that she had never known because it was a mistake and she had confounded Tom Riddle with some other boy in the first place!

And there it was: a big dirty building, amongst many others, all of which looked just like the same. The difference was the sign. It didn't even have space on the outside for the children to play; it was just like any other building, but bigger. Out of the front door, there was a small flight of stairs 'till the ground, and then, one would only have to walk more 2 meters 'till a regular sidewalk, all the way being sidestepped by some pleasant flowerbeds. This time, she was on the opposite side of the street, in order to have a better view from the place she was, because she found out that she couldn't go on for more that 15 meters from it. She didn't want him to see her, by any chances. It would be embarrassing for both, because he certainly wasn't proud of having to be there, being all secretive and all... But that way, she couldn't make sure if it was really him! «Oh, what a dilemma!», she though. Her mind went blank, and her shoes glued to the ground. She could be prudent, go away, and protect herself from trouble; but then, she would forever be stick to annoying «what if's». And there she was on an impasse again, despite her best efforts to act cool!

She tried to rationalize the situation: for one side, her prudent self was struggling to win; for the other side, her curiosity, with the building almost shining in anticipation. It had red wine walls, and suddenly, she found herself imagining a small inner demon trying to talk to her, and a little angel trying to get her back to her senses. She listened harder: «Go, go», her inner demon said appealingly. And then: «Go, go!», her inner angel also said. And so she did. «NO, not that way, not that way – THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION!», the angel cried. But it was too late. And as she went closer and closer, Tom Riddle in person stepped out of the building, and almost jumping in a scare, she fled immediately in the opposite direction. She was gone in a second, unnoticed.