I do not own any of the recognizable characters in this story. They are the property of J.K Rowling, bless her. As for the characters you don't recognize, well they're mine, bless them. Any other works such as song lyrics, poems, titles, etc. used are not mine either. They belong to their rightful owners whose names are too plentiful to name. (Also cause I'm too lazy to keep track.)

a/n: I don't know. Is this shit? Should I stop? I'm probably not going to stop but it'd be helpful if you tell me what I'm doing wrong and what I'm doing right. Okay. Bye.

A Song of Despair

CHAPTER TWO

Thomas Marvolo Riddle Jr. was an orphan half-blood. That much wasn't quite as obvious as it was during the last day of school. King's Cross station was filled to the brim with jubilant parents waiting for their children who were taking their time saying goodbye to friends. Tom could've easily ignored their beaming faces if they didn't make it impossible for him to make his way to the doors. He knew no one would be waiting for him and was quite eager to make his way to The Leaky Cauldron where a room awaited him. He was of sixteen years and Mrs. Cole – who would never admit it – had heavily implied that he find boarding elsewhere. He had planned of having an evening spent exploring parts of Diagon Alley but by the looks of things, he'd be lucky to get out of King's Cross before sunset.

These stupid fucking idiots, he thought, if they don't get out of my way soon I'll blast them all to Hell!

He used his right elbow to discreetly move people out of his way all the while trying to keep his composure. There were important people about picking up their children and it wouldn't do well for him to be seen flustered. Yes, appearances must be kept under the scrutiny of potential business partners.

It seemed like an eternity had passed when he finally saw a clear passage to the clear brick wall leading to muggle London. His feet quickened at the sight and he was only a few feet when his shoulder hit something both hard and soft. He heard a masculine grunt and turned to see that he had hit another boy, who looked to be his age and was now giving him a glare.

Tom raised a brow. He knew it was customary for him to apologize but the glare this boy was giving him caused his pride to rise in defiance.

The boy in front of him scoffed, "Not even going to apologize, mate?"

Tom sighed in annoyance, "No."

He turned back to the exit, dismissing the boy. As he walked away he heard another voice converse with the boy.

"Was that really necessary?"

"What do you mean?" he heard the boy argue, "He hit me and didn't even apologize!"

Tom smirked at what the voice said next, "Honestly, Roger. Grow up."

Solomon, the innkeeper of The Leaky Cauldron, was an aging old man whose leathery skin wrinkled like raisin. He should have been retired by now but had refused to give up the reins to his son, Tomas, or Tom as he often corrected everyone that knew him. Even if his son had worked in the inn since he was just a boy and spent every free waking hour there, Solomon still saw multiple faults in Tom's business skills.

Tom Riddle shouldn't have known this, nor did he ever want to, but he couldn't help but learn as he observed the father and son duo bicker behind the bar. He was sat at one of the corner booths around the inn where he had taken refuge after Solomon had informed him that his room wasn't ready. His irritation grew the more father and son talked. He touched his palm to his brow, trying in vain to stop the steady throbbing behind his eyes. Going to Diagon Alley was out of the question at this point, so the next best thing was sleep. The throbbing steadily grew to match the pair's voice. It was a pleasant surprise when the grating noise stopped, he looked up.

"Hi."

It was a female student. His age. Here. At The Leaky Cauldron. Fuck. It was like he couldn't get away from them.

Tom slid back into the darkness of the booth before she could notice him. There he could observe that it was Jude Heathrow. Gryffindor, Tom remembered.

"Evening. May I help you, Miss?" Solomon inquired. Tom, his son, bristled at this.

Her voice was drowned out by an outburst of cackles from a table of witches across the pub.

Riddle frowned, hags seemed more fitting.

He turned back just in time to see Solomon hand the girl a key. It seems like he wasn't the only Hogwarts student staying at The Leaky Cauldron. He would have to be careful, from his experience at school, she would call her friends over and soon enough he'll be having his own personal audience. Curious though, with the amount of people at the pub already, there would still be rooms left at the inn, let alone how fast she received a key to one so quickly.

Tom's brow furrowed, he was there first, shouldn't he have gotten…

He was on his feet in a second and at the counter in another, startling a withering old man he suspected wasn't even a wizard at all in the process.

"Excuse me," Tom spoke loudly to gain Solomon's attention. "When will my room be ready?"

Solomon cleared his throat, "In a moment, sir."

He said the word as if it was shit under his shoes. Tom knew the old man didn't like him, knew it when he first came when he was eleven. He wasn't sure, but he suspected Solomon subscribed to the pureblood supremacy ideology like most senile witches and wizards these days. Solomon acted like he could smell the status of Tom's blood whenever they met.

Tom's mouth curled back. It was people like Solomon that made him feel murderous; they always acted like they were better than him. Pieces of shit, they were. He reached into his pocket for his wand, leaning toward the aging wizard. Irritation from the station earlier, the old wizard's blatant disrespect, and his throbbing headache resulted to a dangerous mix.

"No," Tom practically growled, "It'll be ready now."

Solomon straighten, "Now, you watch your tone, young man. I–"

Imperio.

Solomon's eyes glazed over and his posture straightened. Tom heard distant pops, Solomon's spine. The spell was working.

Solomon held out a key, "Have a nice stay, Mr Riddle."

Tom smirked, "Thank you, Solomon."

Before he departed, he studied geriatric wizard. He knew he should leave, he could get caught, be at Azkaban by the end of the night, but his curious nature couldn't help it. He hadn't been able to perform the curse this well before. Cruciatus, yes, - his quick temper made that easy – but the Imperius curse was… difficult. It required great control and focus, the latter of which was hard to come by with being around hundreds of students and their incessant blunderings. This was the optimal time to study the curse's effects on the victims, it would be a waste to let it go now.

Tom was about to command Solomon again when another body crashed against his own, sending him to collide with the counter. What was it with people and their lack of respect for personal space? It was getting ridiculous and having so many things that close felt like swimming in filth. He felt like bathing in acid would be the only way to get rid of the feeling.

These thoughts in mind, Tom looked at the body beside him. It was the girl from earlier, swearing at presumably the one who caused her to collide against him. Tom quickly ended the curse before she could notice.

When she was finally done, she turned back, "Sorry. That arsehole over there's drunker than a– Tom Riddle."

"Yes?" He forced the irritation out of his tone.

Jude just stared at him. Fuck. She wasn't one of those, was she? They were in the same year and he mostly knew everyone, but he didn't go out of his way to get to know them. What he gathered from his encounters with female students at Hogwarts was that they spent an inordinate amount on personal grooming and they were especially fond of giving him chocolate on Valentine's Day.

Tom inched back fearing what she would do, but Jude just turned to Solomon. Weirdly, there was no one there. She leaned forward across the counter and a shout of alarm rose from her throat.

Tom's posture went rigid. At first he thought Jude had shouted because of him but he saw she wasn't even looking at him. Curious, he leaned forward as well and saw it was Solomon she was looking at who was on the ground clutching his back.

"Fucking hell!" Solomon yelled, gathering the gaze of everyone who could hear.

Suddenly, Jude jumped over the counter and kneeled beside Solomon. A few witches tsked in displeasure, grumbling under their breath about the unladylike act.

"Where does it hurt?" she asked calmly.

"My back!" he whimpered. Tom's lips curled back in disgust.

"You're going to be alright." Jude said calmly. To the pub, she shouted, "Where's Tom?"

At first Tom was confused, thinking she was talking about him but quickly realized she meant Solomon's son. Speaking of, Tom burst forth from the door to the kitchen with presumably the person who had fetched for him.

"Dad, what have you done now?" Tom accused Solomon.

A string of obscenities dribbled out of the old man. Tom pursed his lips at his father, ready to argue back; before he could someone spoke over him.

"We should take him to St. Mungo's." the girl stated, "I've been there, I can apparate him. Can you follow after us?"

Tom shook his head, "I can't apparate, I've never been and our floo is broken."

"Shit. Okay." She looked around the bar before her eyes landed on Riddle. "Riddle, fourth year, you were at the school trip to St. Mungo's right?"

Tom silently groaned, "Fine," he begrudged. "I'll side-along with him."

Jude's eyes turned to slits. She stared at Tom but her face quickly cleared when Solomon groaned again.

"Tom," she addressed Solomon's son, "Riddle will take you."

She only gave Tom a chance to agree before she disapparated from the spot.

"So…"

"What?"

"We're in the same year, right?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Logically speaking, people in the same year have birthdays in the same year."

"Logically."

"And am I right to assume this applies to you?"

"Why wouldn't it?"

"Is that a yes?"

"It's not a no."

"Riddle!"

"Yes. Why does it matter?"

"It's just…"

"Just what?"

"Howdoyouknowhowtoapparate?"

Silence.

"Tom?"

More silence then, "How do you?"

Nervous laughter, "Shut up, Riddle."

"I hope Solomon will be okay. He probably will, right? I mean, he's a wizard and wizards are stronger than muggles, at least that's what some of the muggleborns in Gryffindor say. I bet he'll be back by tomorrow nagging away Tom's ear. He'll probably last longer than the rest of us. Can you just imagine when you're as old as he now and you come into The Leaky Cauldron and he's right there behind the counter still giving orders to Tom? It doesn't even right imagining The Leaky Cauldron without him. Ever since I could remember, he's been there. I think if we ask some of our parents, they'll probably say the same thing. Maybe I should ask Dad… Oh, but he won't be back for two more weeks! Bugger! Two weeks at The Leaky Cauldron, what am I going to do? I guess I could shop around Diagon Alley, but seriously, who doesn't get bored staying at the same place for two weeks, am I right? Maybe I'll take a floo to Paris, I haven't gone since forth year. I wonder if any of the girls would want to join–"

"Miss Heathrow."

Jude looked to Tom beside her, "Yes?"

"I don't really care." He deadpanned.

Jude smiled, "I know."

Tom tilted his head, "Then why are you–"

"Cause you've been staring at that same spot on the wall for ten minutes, only occasionally blinking every two. I was trying to figure out if you've gone mad or just indifferent."

"And which conclusion have you come to?"

Jude's smile grew, "A little bit of both, I think."

Tom began to open his mouth to reply and he would've if the other Tom hadn't come. He looked haggard, probably from arguing with his father again. Stubbornness seemed to run in the family.

"Hey, you two," The jovial middle aged man said, "Sorry to have kept you. You could have gone back to the inn when the healers took him."

From the corner of his eye he saw Jude shake her head, "It's fine. We wanted to stay."

Tom refrained from saying anything. He didn't even want to come, let alone stay.

"Well, Healer Malcolm fixed the problem with his spine," Jude smiled at that, "now they just want to keep him over night. They don't want him moving around for the next few hours to let the potion take effect."

"That's wonderful, I'm glad he's okay." said Jude.

The older man chuckled, "Right, so both of you can head back to the inn now. Thank you very much for your help tonight."

Tom and Jude stood up to shake his hand and give their welcomes. They were quickly left alone by Tom's departure.

Jude cleared her throat, "Ready?"

Tom raised a brow, "For what?"

"This," Jude took his arm and the world spun.

They landed back into the dingy, dank room of the pub in less than a second, startling a sleepy wizard drooling in his firewhiskey.

Tom tore his arm from Jude and growled, "You had no right to do that."

"Oh, c'mon. It was just a joke." Jude scoffed.

A fire grew in his gut, "You don't even have an apparition license. You could have splinched me!"

Jude crossed her arms, "But I didn't."

His eyes turned to slits, "Has anyone ever told you, you're annoying?"

Her eyes matched his, "They usually just say confident instead."

"More like, domineering." He scoffed.

"Strong-willed."

"Overbearing!"

"Self-assured!"

"Pushy!" he dragged the word out.

"Slytherin!" the word hissed of her mouth.

"Gryffindor!" he roared.

Jude's eyes widened, "I take offense to that!"

He snarled back, "Well, I take offense to your personality!"

"I'm not going to stand here," her jaw clenched, "arguing with you. It was a stupid joke, get over it. I'm tired–"

"You're tired–"

"–Yes, I'm tired! So I'm going up to my room! Goodnight to you, Tom Riddle."

"You insolent bit–"

Her heart thudded in her chest; she drew in a deep breath. She could feel the fast beating all the way from her toes, to the door she leaned against, 'til the tips of her ears. Clenching her hands in fist, Jude closed her eyes, and her head thumped against the smooth wood door of her room. A second thump sounded from the room next door a second later but she ignored this in favour for the whirling thoughts in her mind.

Merlin, she had just had an argument in the middle of The Leaky Cauldron. With bloody Tom Riddle of all people! She had told him to shut up for goodness sake! Albeit, that part was hours earlier and totally in a different context, but still! She hadn't done something like that in… fuck, has it really been two years? And with bloody Tom Riddle!

"Holy fuck!"