Tom Riddle arrives! Watch out! (Sorry for any mistakes cause this wasn't beta'd. If you find any, just tell me and I'll correct it as soon as I can.)
*Funny Fact: Fred and George were born on April Fool's Day... That should explain a lot!
Chapter 2
Harry woke up very slowly. His head felt like there was a herd of giants in there, stomping around with their clubs, making as much noise as possible. Why ever would giants choose his head as their home, he didn't know. He wondered what just happened when more voices interrupting his fuzziness; voices that seemed to be increasing in volume by the second.
"Get up, boy! Do you think I have all day to stay here and look after one child?"
Harry frowned. That voice didn't sound like the previous boy's. This was clearly a woman, and a rude one at that. He opened his eyes to see himself lying prone on the floor. The very, dirty floor. Ugh! He would have to clean himself at least 3 times to get rid of all the filth. There was even one patch on the floor that looked like it had once been blood. He closed his eyes. He didn't want to know.
The woman, who was stooping down towards him, shook his shoulder."Are you alright, boy?" she asked, her voice sounding harsh and annoyed, contradicting with her statement. He looked at her properly, and his eyes widened in recognition. Now he remembered her. Cole! He remembered seeing the plump lady in Dumbledore's memories; she was the one who loved gin; the matron in Riddle's orphanage. What was she doing here? And for that matter, what was he doing here too?
"yeah, I'm fine," he replied when he saw that she was still waiting for an answer.
"Good," she conceded. "Now come downstairs and eat your breakfast. I will give you a little leeway considering that you just got here." She got up and left, expecting him to follow.
The other boy, that had woken him up before was standing near the door, nervously. "I came upstairs to call you when I saw that you weren't behind me," he remarked. "I've never seen anyone faint," he remarked. "And you just dropped like a stone, onto the floor. So, I went and called Ms. Cole for help."
At least he cared enough to call someone, Harry thought to himself. He didn't let me drool all over the floor.
"Thanks," he told the boy. "I did not catch your name, actually." He smiled apologetically.
"That's because I didn't tell you," replied the boy with a cheeky grin. "Ms Cole found you half-dead yesterday night in the rain, on the doorstep and took you in. I don't even think you even knew what was happening around you. You fell asleep straight afterwards. Ms. Cole told me to wake you up in the morning, though. But you seem alright. I'm Gregory. Welcome to Wool's Orphanage." He said this all in one breath as he extended his hand towards Harry, to help him get up off the floor.
"I'm Harry," he replied. He liked this kid, as much as his voice bothered him. So, he appeared here last night? How?And Wool's Orphanage…so, this was the exact same orphanage that Riddle lived in once?
"Come on," Gregory said. "Let's go downstairs. We have oatmeal today."
Harry quickly changed into the uniform that everyone wore, when Gregory told him to and followed him out of the room and down the stairs The whole place had a dreary depressing feel to it, adding to his already morose mood. What was he doing here? How did he transport himself to Riddle's old orphanage? As far as he knew, it was impossible to time travel for more than 24 hours. And as far as he knew, Wool's orphanage was destroyed nearly 40 years ago. Was it possible that he traveled nearly 40 years to the past? Maybe more? And why was he a child? He was twenty-five for Merlin's sake! The only conclusion was, what he had gleaned from the few Muggle movies he watched at the Dursley's; where the Muggle protagonist is transported to different places or times because of freak electric storms. Apparently electricity was a big thing in the Muggle world. There was a lightning storm last night. A bad one at that. Could that be the reason that he apparently traveled back in time? But again, why would he shrink to a kid? Nothing made sense. Maybe, this was a dream and he was probably asleep back home. However, he could do nothing but watch and wait. Bide his time until he understood what in Merlin's name was happening or wake up, whichever happened first.
As soon as he came to that conclusion, he felt an utter calm wash over him. Nobody knew who he was here. He was not Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived, or Wizarding World's Savior, or the horrible boyfriend and horrible friend that he was before. He did not have to go to his tedious work every morning to face ungrateful people who coddled him and took him for granted. He was free to do as he wished. His time and his life were his to live, at least in his dream.
Here, he was just another orphan boy who apparently was dumped at the orphanage, yesterday; who roomed with Gregory, another one of the many children that nobody cared about. Here, he was just Harry. This epiphany sent him soaring into ecstasy. He was free at last.
He could never imagine being free. When he was at the Dursley's he had chores to complete and he lived more like a house-elf that a person. And the house-elf represented the exact opposite of freedom. He thought that he would finally gain his freedom when he went to Hogwarts, but there, an even heavier burden was dumped on his shoulders. He was destined to defeat the greatest Dark Lord in history, or die instead. Amazing destiny! Right? Wrong! Even after the war, when everyone sighed with relief, he could not. In a world without Voldemort, the others could live and do as they please, but not him. He was the Chosen One who was now the Wizarding World's Hero. He had to be the one to inspire people. And he could not do anything that would ruin this image. Everyone looked up at him, looked to him for help in their littlest things. And then, he got "promoted" to a position behind the desk, where he was not only mentally but also nearly physically restrained. So, this concept of independence was rather chilling and bizarre for him.
He had no one to answer to now. Nobody expected him to save their day.
This revelation made him so happy that he felt like skipping and dancing around. He did skip down the steps, the rest of the way, feeling entirely right doing so. He was a child. He was supposed to skip.
I am free, he sang to himself. He could do anything he pleased, he could go anywhere he pleased, he...- felt like an utter idiot, because staring at him from across the room, was Tom Riddle.
Merlin! He had entirely forgotten about Riddle. His pleasant daydreams were abruptly brought back to the ground with just one look from his arch-enemy; an enemy who was didn't look more than 9 years old and was currently staring at him.
Maybe this is a dream, he thought. Seriously, if he had to go back in time, why would he go back to the exact time that Tom Riddle lived here, for Merlin's sake! This was probably fate messing with his head. He already knew that fate hated him; just look at all the things that happened in his life. This was just another one of it. Even if this was a dream, couldn't he have one without Riddle in it, ruining everything? If this is a dream, then maybe if I close my eyes and count to ten, he will disappear. He did, but when he opened his eyes, Riddle was still there, staring at him. This isn't a dream, is it?…. he thought dismally.
Oh well, Riddle can just go and &*#%$#*….he thought, several words that were probably not even invented yet, and should never have been combined, running through his mind. I am not going to let him ruin my new-found freedom. He sniffed haughtily and turned up his nose pointedly at Riddle, turning his back towards him as he walked towards the line-up for breakfast. He got a dollop of some mushy, multicolored substance that looked like someone stepped on it, with muddy shoes. And Gregory said that this was oatmeal!
Holding his tray of inedible looking….thing, he looked for Gregory, the only person he knew in this strange world. But he was nowhere to be seen. So, he just sat at an empty table and morosely squished about this suspicious substance with his fork, trying to build up the courage to take the first bite.
"You are sitting in my seat, " a voice said, interrupting his musings.
He looked up to see his second-most hated face looming up at him; the face of young Tom Riddle.
I'm pretty sure that you can guess who has his most hated face!
Regarding " &*#%$#*" : I can assure you that Harry is very inventive and has a wide variety of available words in his vocabulary, so you can imagine what he would be saying. I would give recommendations but I don't think that they would be fit to be seen in public. Or private, to be honest.
