Chapter One

"It's time," said Hermione in an awestruck voice. "Time…"


There were a million places that Tom would rather be. He had never been very picky when it came to deciding what activity he would be doing for the day because of the unacceptable amount of free time he had, but this was not something he would normally choose to do. Usually he would be happy with even the smallest of activities. An ideal place would be somewhere silent and secluded where he wouldn't have to waste brain cells on idiotic conversations with the civilians of London. Most conversations did not end well due to Tom's tendency to insult the people he was chatting with.

A people person, Tom Riddle was not.

His current company was, unfortunately, impossible to get rid of. It wasn't their fault he was trapped down there with them so he couldn't act particularly nasty to them. "Them" being a hoard of hot, sweaty, men who were pressing into him on all sides as they tried to lean forward and get a good view of a tiny concrete arena below them. Almost every single one of them was either drinking or smoking and all of them were hollering at each other, not caring who they may or may not annoy.

The only one who wasn't doing that was his friend, Jasper. A fourteen year old nuisance who was the reason he was even in this environment. The boy was amazingly immune to Tom's strange nature and hung around him enough that Tom had actually grown used to his presence after a few years and, though he didn't like to admit it, was fond of him. In fact, he actually trusted him; trusted him enough to share a few secrets with him. In return, Jasper provided unwavering loyalty.

Perhaps that was the reason he wasn't strangling the boy.

He was really considering it, though, especially when Jasper clapped a hand onto his shoulder and grinned at him as if they were both having a spanking good time.

Git.

"God, Jasper, tell me again how you managed to convince me to come down here with you," Tom said.

"I didn't," Jasper said cheerfully. "I dragged you down here against your will."

Tom glared. "Why am I here?"

Jasper cleared his throat and moved closer to him. "This is a dog fighting ring and I put in a bet. I just need you to make a little use of your special talent," he said nervously. When he saw the expression on Tom's face, he added, "Don't think you're not getting your fair share of the prize money! Do I really come off as dishonest?"

"You plan on cheating while illegally gambling," Tom pointed out. "You also lied about being in school today."

Jasper opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by a loud buzzer. Both boys looked down at the ring where two dogs had just been released. One was scarred around its legs and had gray matted fur, clearly some kind of mutt. The other dog was a much more common sight, a pit-bull. Tom leaned forward against the railing around the arena that encased the two dogs to get a better look at it. A muzzle had been strapped securely around its snout and it was struggling hopelessly to get it off. A second buzzer sounded and the mutt was set loose. When the pit-bull looked up and snarled, the mutt snapped and began to attack, taking full advantage of the defenseless dog. Tom knew the fight was over before it even started.

"Tom," Jasper whispered. The mutt was digging its teeth into the pit-bull's shoulder as is run around the ring in a fury panic. Blood splattered the wall and a few droplets landed on the men on the other side of the ring. They opened their mouths wide and cheered. "I bet on the pit. It could really use your help right about now."

Tom snorted. "You would bet on the hopeless case. You should have said something sooner and I could have actually done something. It's far too late for me to turn the tables on a match like this."

Jasper's mouth dropped open in both disbelief and horror. When he shut it, his expression was one of complete and utter disappointment. "I had really been hoping... Ah, well, shouldn't be taking advantage of you like that, anyway…"

"Damn right," Tom said. He rolled his shoulders and glared down at the two dogs intently. "Now make sure nobody disturbs me, this is going to take some effort."

At first, Jasper was confused, and then realized what was going on. "Tom, you're the best person ever."

"Obviously," Tom replied. He turned his attention back to the dogs until the crowd all around him faded to a low buzz.

He focused on the pit-bull and eventually felt a familiar pull from it. The first thing he felt was the suppressed power in its forelegs and jaw. It could easily tear the mutt apart if it didn't have the muzzle. Tom shifted his attention to the mutt which in comparison was clearly weaker. At his will, it attacked the pit's muzzle, ripping it off. The audience started shouting obscenities at the turn of events and Tom could sense Jasper's glee. Attention still on the mutt, Tom forced himself into its mind and felt its slow, sluggish mind compared to his own. The fear, anger and pain were the most intense feelings the creature felt so he focused on those until nothing else existed. He was sure that at this point the dog probably wasn't moving and if he continued for just a few more moments –

A painful elbow to the ribs broke his concentration and he stumbled. Two hands went onto his shoulders to steady him and he glared at the owner, faintly surprised to see it had been Jasper.

"What was that for?" he hissed.

Jasper met his eyes. "You were getting carried away again."

Tom's glare faded and he blinked a few times as he thought back to the sheer pleasure he had felt when he unnecessarily tortured the mutt. All he managed was a soft, "Oh," in response.

Jasper just shrugged and jerked his head toward the arena. Tom turned to look but was hindered by a rush of fatigue. Controlling an animal – something he had once been able to do so easily as a child – was both mentally and physically exhausting. He didn't need to look to find out who won, the crowd's screams of displeasure were enough to tell him.

Jasper waited patiently for him to regain his bearings as the crowd thinned. When Tom was sure he would be able to walk in a straight line without falling on his face, they joined a very few amount of others who had formed a line to collect their winnings from an old man.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" the old man asked gruffly, pulling out a few bills and shuffling through them as he counted the appropriate amount.

"Shouldn't you be minding your own business?" Jasper retorted lamely. Tom rolled his eyes and plucked the stack of bills out of the old man's hands.

"School is out due to a bomb threat," Tom lied.

As they made their way out of the rugged building, they heard a gunshot. Tom glanced back and saw the pit-bull had been shot in the back of the head, its blood staining the concrete floor and jaw detached just a foot away from its body. He dragged Jasper out of the building before the younger boy could get a good look.

"This place is revolting," Tom said. "How could you possibly come across this area by accident?"

He was referring to a small region in South London that could be described as questionable. It was where the dog fights had taken place and also where shady characters hung out in parks and alleyways. Jasper claimed he had come across it by accident and saw it as an opportunity to make some easy money. Tom doubted it was on accident and couldn't help but feel a little apprehensive that his friend was actively seeking out places like this.

They were both hidden in an alley that was currently unoccupied, counting and dividing their winnings. Jasper insisted they do it here instead of a place someone they knew could question where they got it. Tom just wanted to get onto a carriage or tram and away from this place.

"You know I tend to wander," Jasper said, stuffing his money in his pocket. "I have nothing to do all day."

"You have school," Tom said quietly. "Why aren't you there?"

"Like you're one to talk."

Tom scowled. "You're wasting your valuable education time on silly things like gambling."

"Hey, I've been getting more money than you and your stupid job," Jasper said smugly. A loose brick above him on the wall he was leaning against shifted and fell, missing Jasper only because he just barely managed to duck out of the way. It shattered violently on the ground in a way that was obviously unnatural. "Alright! I'm sorry, geez…"

Tom ignored him, walking out of the alley to find a train station or tramway. He had never been on this side of the city before and he did not plan on getting too familiar with it. At the moment he didn't care if Jasper followed him or not. Besides, he was sure he'd find him eventually if they got too far away from one another.

He maneuvered through the area quickly, mapping the whole area in his head as he did so in case he ever needed the information for later. Not many other people were out because of the gloomy weather and possibly to avoid confrontation with each other. The whole area had an antisocial feel about it which Tom couldn't help but appreciate. All of the shops he passed were neglected, so none interested him except one. The thing that separated it from all the others was that rather than looking disused, it looked old as if it had been there for several decades. Seeing the books resting on the shelves through the window was what encouraged him to go inside.

He pushed the door open and saw the shopkeeper's head snap up to look at him in alarm. Tom took a moment to examine what he was holding behind the counter. It was an old, heavy looking clock with far too many hands and words etched at the edges of its face. The shopkeeper cleared his throat and they stared at each other for what seemed like hours so that Tom began to wonder if he was allowed to be inside at all. Finally the shopkeeper just cocked an eyebrow at him and gestured at the rest of the shop, inviting him to take a look around.

As he has seen through the window, there were shelves of books, but most of them were not labeled on the spine and seemed to be covered in dust. The ones that did have titles seemed too silly to even be worth reading. The Giggles, Grunts, and Groans of Ghosts, Vanquishing Vile Village Vampires, and A Guide to Wonderfully Wicked Wives, to name a few.

He was paging through a book about potions and how to make them when he noticed that Jasper was standing outside of the shop looking around wildly. Snapping the book shut, he watched him curiously. Obviously the boy was looking for him, but he usually had enough sense to search a bookstore so why wasn't he even glancing at it?

"Have somewhere to be?" the shopkeeper asked abruptly.

"Yes," Tom replied, though he didn't know why it was any of his business.

"Should get to it, then. You gonna buy that?"

Tom gazed back down at the dusty book in his hands, bouncing it a few times as if it would help him think. It really was an interesting book. It took itself seriously when it detailed about ingredients and the history of potions and potion makers. None of the information could possibly be true but he always thought that he should read more fiction books even if he learned nothing from them. Keep an open mind and junk.

"I suppose," he drawled. "How much?"

The shopkeeper squinted at the book. "Eleven sickles."

Sickles? Tom frowned. "I don't have that," he said. "I have notes but – "

"That'll be fine. I can convert 'em," the shopkeeper said dismissively.

Unwilling to get scammed, Tom pulled out what he thought was a reasonable amount of money for the book and watched carefully as the man did some math on a piece or parchment. Finally, Tom was handed a few silver and bronze pieces that he had no idea what to do with. The shopkeeper seemed so certain that he knew what they were that Tom couldn't bring himself to question it and make himself look like an idiot so he ended up pocketing them and scurrying out of the shop.

Jasper yelped when he saw him, jumping back with a hand on his chest. "Where the hell did you come from?" he gasped. "Did you turn invisible or something?"

Regrettably, Tom hadn't been able to do that since the children at the orphanage stopped bullying him when he was six. He shook his head as he slid his new book into his satchel. "I was in the shop right behind you."

Jasper whirled around and almost fell down when he saw the shop.

"That… that wasn't there earlier," he said weakly.

"Don't be an idiot," Tom said, rolling his eyes.

"It wasn't!"

"You've always had trouble focusing on your surroundings. I'm not surprised you missed something right in front of your face."

"I looked everywhere," Jasper said, although he seemed less certain this time. He bit his lip and stared at the shop for a long while. Finally, he shook his head. "Ok, fine. You wanted to get out of here?"

"Of course."

"Great, tram should be here any second." Jasper grabbed Tom's sleeve and pulled him around a corner, ignoring the older boy's objections at being touched. His protests were ignored until they reached a road where a tram was waiting. They both managed to leap on board and Tom flashed both of their cards to an inspector before Jasper settled the both of them in the back.

"You can come visit my parents," Jasper suggested when he let Tom's sleeve go, ignoring his vicious glare. "Mum loves it when you come over so she won't ask me why I'm not at school."

Tom shook his head. "I work today."

"Ah," Jasper said. "How about we visit Hypatia afterwards? She always puts you in a good mood. You'll need it after working with that twat, Williams."

Edward Williams was the proud owner of the unfortunately named Slaughterhouse Lounge, a small diner with an even smaller bookshop attached to the back. Tom was paid under-the-table to do simple tasks such as cleaning and occasionally cooking or working at the register. It would be an enjoyable place to work at if Williams didn't constantly breathe down his employee's necks and keep an eye on their every move. The man was so paranoid that Tom was almost positive that there was another business that Williams practiced but he didn't truly care enough to find out what it was. Shoving his nose where it didn't belong would undoubtedly end up with him fired and it would almost be impossible for Tom to find a new job due to his little incident.

"I don't know what time I'll get off," Tom said. The thought of visiting Hypatia was a very pleasant one indeed and he'd hate to miss an opportunity to do so.

"Don't worry about it. My sister always keeps her door open for you."

Tom shrugged, ignoring the sudden warmth underneath his collar and he determinedly looked outside of the tram. It wasn't long until he spotted their destination. Just before the tram jerked to a stop, he shoved Jasper out so that he rolled on the ground, garnering a few scrapes when he tried to stop.

"What was that for?" Jasper whined when Tom stepped out beside him.

"You did not think you would face the consequences of dragging me with you today?" Tom asked. "Be grateful your punishment was not more severe."

"You pushed me out of a moving tram!"

"As I said, be grateful." Tom shrugged and glanced at Jasper's watch. "Time for work. I'll see you later, then. Stay out of trouble."

"I hope you get fired," Jasper said bitterly.

"You're late," Williams hissed when Tom entered the diner. Tom knew he was actually right on time but wisely decided to say nothing of it. "Have you any idea how busy we've been? Get to cleaning. Do it quickly and then make yourself useful by helping Ellie. She needed you for something."

Tom was already putting an apron on by the time he finished that sentence so the old man seemed satisfied and disappeared into his office. When Tom was inspecting the tables, he realized that some of them hadn't even been moved since last night which means they hadn't been busy at all today. He rolled his eyes and went to the back where he was positive there would be a few dishes for him to wash and maybe something else to keep him busy before he had to deal with Ellie.

Ellie was Edward William's daughter, a woman about seven years Tom's senior. The large age difference did not stop her from harboring an embarrassingly large crush on him. Occasionally, Tom used that to his advantage, persuading her to do a few tasks for him that would make his jobs easier. Sometimes he even managed to get her to convince Williams to give him the rare day off. It encouraged her to follow him around, but he was willing to deal with it since she was useful.

Now that he got a good look around the shop, he had no idea where she was. After a quick inspection, he was able to deduce she had done all of his minor tasks for him so she was obviously going to ask him to do something he might refuse. She didn't ask much of him so what she wanted was a mystery.

The storage room door slammed open, jerking him out of his thoughts.

"Tom!" Ellie shouted, rushing out and looking flustered. She had some kind of thick brown gunk on her head and he couldn't find it in himself to ask what it was.

"Ellie," Tom said, faking a look of deep concern. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes!" she blurted. "I mean, no! It's just… I have a huge favor to ask of you."

Tom hoped he covered the look of displeasure on his face before she had seen it. No matter if she did some of his work for him, doing favors for people wasn't really his thing. He didn't like it.

"Anything for you, ma'am," he said softly, bowing his head a little. He knew she despised to be called "ma'am" because it made her feel old, especially when it came from him. Tom was barely able to conceal a smirk when she stiffened and bit her lip.

"You can't tell my dad," she said. "You can't call the police either, not here. There's this boy about your age in the storage room. He's all messed up and I don't know what to do about it!"

That was… unexpected.

"Where did he come from?" Tom asked.

"I'm not sure, he just appeared in the shop when I wasn't looking! He's babbling nonsense so I locked him in the storage room before father could throw him out on the street. I – I think he's mad but maybe he's only odd because he's hurt. I just want to get him back home but…" She trailed off as if scared to continue. "He's doing strange things. There's this stick… I'm too scared to go back in there. It's not normal. Not normal at all."

"What do you expect me to do about that?" The boy was potentially dangerous and she saw it fit to send a sixteen-year-old boy in there with him? Although, he shouldn't have been too surprised. Ellie was known for her biscuits, not her intelligence.

"Please, Tom. You're his age, maybe you can get through to him."

"You don't really expect me to just – "

"Go or I'll have my dad fire you."

Tom's mouth clamped shut and he stared at her in astonishment. She quickly crossed her arms and set her jaw, standing straight. She was serious and he was reluctantly impressed. She knew he needed this job.

"On what grounds?" he managed to hiss at her.

"He doesn't like you."

Tom scowled and bristled at her touch as she quickly nudged him towards the door. Cautiously, he opened the door and stepped inside, prepared for the worst case scenario: being attacked.

Luckily nothing of the sort happened, although Ellie did close the door behind him which trapped him inside. The only source of light in the room was a pitiful light bulb dangling from the ceiling. Dim as it was, he was still able to see the boy in front of him.

He was lying on the ground holding his arm up and pointing a wooden rod in the air. Large pink bubbles were coming out from the top of the rod (a toy?) and sticking themselves to the ceiling. The boy was giggling to himself madly like a child who found something he wasn't supposed to be playing with. Tom took advantage of the boy's distraction and studied him from a distance. The most notable traits were his red hair, freckles, long black robes, and height; he was probably just a bit taller than Tom. His unfocused eyes looked unnatural and Tom wondered if he had been recently brain damaged or if this was a temporary condition. He didn't have much experience with the mentally disabled so decided to take it slow.

"Hello," he said, immediately catching the boy's attention.

"Look at my bubbles. Aren't they funny? I can't do stuff like this with real spells… ha ha ha…"

"Yes, very funny," Tom said gently. He took a few steps closer and saw that the boy was indeed injured in some way. Dark blood was trailing out of his mouth. Was he beaten up? It was possible, considering his apparent mental state. "Why don't you tell me your name and we can try to get you home?"

He had stopped paying attention and Tom grimaced.

"My name is a little funny, like those bubbles," he almost gagged. He felt like he was speaking to a child and it left a terrible taste in his mouth. "It's Tom, Tom Riddle. Is your name funny or boring?" Ugh.

That got the boy's attention. It took all of Tom's willpower not to flinch back when he lurched forward, his hands shooting forward to grasp his shirt. Fortunately for Tom, he missed and fell on the floor. He giggled feebly.

"It's Ron. Ron Weasley… weasel… ha ha ha… wheezy-bee…"