2. Interrupted Destiny

A strange eeriness settled across Hogwarts. No one was out and about, not even the occasional straggler or student sneaking off past curfew. An undiscovered silence loomed through the castle's corridors. Tom Riddle, his new prefect badge adorned onto his Slytherin robes, wandered across the school. A dim light reflected off the badge, illuminating his solemn way down the corridor. The other prefetcs traveled across the castle, leaving Tom to patrol this particular area alone.

First night of prefect duty, and I just stand here while absolutely no one does absolutely nothing... He thought bitterly. Tom blew a strand of his warm brown hair away from his face, having nothing better to do with his time.

Well… he conceded, Anything is better than being back there with those filthy little muggle kids...

Tom could feel his hands clench into tight fists as the thought of them crossed his mind. Muggles had destroyed not only Tom's life, but they had poisoned the entire wizarding world. His pathetic mudblood father was still out there, somewhere, and Tom could barely wait to finally meet him. Tom anticipated the confrontation, the sweet sensation of justice he would feel once his task was done.

But Tom knew he could not stop there. Oh no, his work would be much greater than the extermination of just one filthy, mere muggle.

I swear, this year will start the beginning of the end for them all. I will complete my purpose. I-

A sharp crash down the hall pulled Tom away from his dangerous thoughts. He drew his wand out from his robes' side pocket, brandishing it out in front of him. Slowly, he glided further though the corridor, nearing the corner. He knew to call something stupid out like "who's there?" was a fool's error, one that he would not be too eager to make.

Silently, he crept around the corner, submerging himself into the darkness. Focusing his eyes to the sudden lack of light, he scanned over the hall, anxious to find an intruder in the act. Without warning, his gaze fell upon a figure. It was sprawled out across the cold stone floor, although Tom could not make out what this thing was.

Whatever it is, it's not moving.

Cautiously, Tom began to approach the shadow, his wand outstretched before him. "Lumos," he whispered under his breath. The tip of his wand slowly ignited, lighting up the thing now at Tom's feet.

It was a girl. Around his own age, by the looks of it. Her blonde hair tangled and tossed across the floor. Her clothes were tattered and torn, as if she had weathered some type of storm. A small trail of blood trickled down her delicate face, drastically dark against her porcelain face. Her eyes were clenched shut, as if she was even afraid to open them in what appeared to be her sleep. She was actually quite beautiful, if one could look past the blood and the horror the way Tom did. Yes, beautiful. As Tom looked upon her current state, his own heart quickened into a chaotic state.

The girl wasn't breathing.

Impulsively, Tom knelt beside her. Grabbing her wrist, Tom desperately checked for the girl's pulse.

Please…please be alive….

Several more seconds passed without a single beat coursing through her veins.

Please…

Slowly, Tom could feel a slight ping in her wrist. Several seconds later, he felt another. And then another. The beats were coming faster and closer together, showing that she was alive, much to Tom's relief. Suddenly, the girl's mouth cracked open, letting out a stifled coughing sound. Careful not to hurt her, Tom helped the girl sit up. As her chokes were replaced by sharp intakes of breath, her eyes fluttered open, revealing hazel, tired orbs staring back at him.

"Are you okay?" Tom asked hurriedly, not knowing what else to say in this kind of situation.

The girl looked madly at the prefect, her frantic state worsened by confusion. "Where…where am I?" she asked, her then gaze transfixed upon Tom.

Wait, who is this girl? She just ends up here in the middle of the night, alone in the corridor, and has no idea where she is? Tom's brain rationalized. Could this girl be just another student? Were the other prefects playing a prank on him? Was she from Hogwarts, or did she not even know what Hogwarts was? She was in muggle clothing ... torn and destroyed, but muggle nonetheless. Was she a muggle? Could a creature this stunning really be something that foul?

"You're safe now," Tom replied quickly.

The girl, still not satisfied by Tom's answer, shifted a little in his grasp, only to be left clutching her head in pain. She let out an agonizing moan. Her gaze moved back onto Tom, her eyes swelling with what to Tom looked like naked fear.

"Who are you?" she asked quietly. Stubbornly, she rose to her feet, rocking dangerously from side to side as she did.

"Tom. Tom Riddle," Tom answered, shooting back up. He grabbed the girl before she had the chance to hit the ground again. Her feet lost control, leaving her to sink into Tom's grasp. "Who are you?" he asked back, as if he was trying to distract her from her fragile state.

She just stood there for what seemed like ages, huddled in Tom's arms. Her eyes snapped shut again, jolting a sick feeling into his stomach. Her breathing began to slow again, each gasp for air taking longer for her to take in.

"My name…." She began, her voice raspy and expressionless, "Is…Mora."

As soon as the last word escaped her lips, the girl, apparently named Mora, went limp in Tom's arms. Terrified, Tom cradled her in his grasp as he fumbled with is wand.

"Relashio!" he yelled into the darkness. Suddenly, red sparks flew from the tip of his wand, thrashing down in every direction of the corridor. Without warning, Tom lost his balance, falling to the ground. Mora tumbled to the floor alongside him, her body crashing with an unexpected thud. Within seconds, at least half the other prefects rushed down the hall, coming to Tom's aid. Stepping in front of the other's, another Slytherin and surprisingly, a Gryffindor, helped Tom lift the girl off the ground.

"What happened?"

"I was patrolling…" Tom began, "And I found her here,"

"Let's get her to the hospital wing now!" a large Ravenclaw prefect beckoned, her voice overshadowing the other confused ones.

Suddenly, a tall, balding man swept down into the corridor. A small, ginger colored beard trailed down his chin, making his appearance even more frightening. Being the headmaster, this worked very well on terms of discipline.

"Professor Dippet!" Tom called.

Quickly, the professor swept beside Tom and the others, his eyes cast upon the unconscious girl. His gaze was laced with worry and what Tom suspected to be a hint of undesired fear. "What happened here?"

"I found her, sir. She was knocked out or something. She doesn't where she is, and then she just seemed to pass out again."

Dippet's eyes never left the girl, him studding every aspect of her, especially her injured head. "We must bring her to the hospital wing immediately," he ordered.

Mora felt the slight tinge of warm air hover over her face. Slowly, she felt a burst of pain hurtle through her chest. Jolting upward, she began to cough uncontrollably. As her breathing calmed down, she surprisingly felt a pair of hands on her back. Cracking open her eyes, she found herself in a dark corridor. A single boy, well, more like a man, was kneeling beside her, supporting her body from falling back to the cold stone ground.

She found herself immediately transfixed into his deep, brown eyes. They store back into her own, making her feel a slight moment of peace. Though her vision was blurred from the moist coating shielding her eyes, she could clearly see the worry stored within them.

Hold on a second…. Mora thought, instantly breaking her from the trance.

Who is that? Where am I?

"Are you alright?" the boy asked Mora.

Terrified, all Mora could do was search the room desperately, for something familiar, something that didn't seem so foreign to her. "Where… where am I?" she asked frantically, still looking wildly across the dim hallway.

One minute I was….. one minute I…I

Wait.

Mora's eyes widened even further, her expression draining of any hint of warmth that may have ever been there.

Where had I been?

Racing through the empty shells of her memory, Mora searched for something, anything. Some sign of where she had been before this. Some clue of who she was. But there was nothing.

"Who are you?" Mora asked the mystery boy, hoping he would have some answers for her. Slowly, she rose from her feet, wanting to get out of her pathetic position. She instantly regretted the decision, feeling the weakness left in her legs.

The boy shot to his feet. He caught her the moment she was to fall, cradling her in his arms. "Tom. Tom Riddle," he said back softly. Mora felt her body sink deeper into Tom's grasp, not being able to sustain its own weight.

"Who are you?" he asked back.

Good question…

As fast as the sound of the last syllable faded away, an image sprung into Mora's mind. It was simple; four simple letters.

That's… my name, she thought mournfully. My name.

"My name…" she started, using every bit of strength left within her to cough out the mysterious words. "Is Mora."