A/N: Many thanks to everyone who showed interest in the story and I hope you'll enjoy future chapters as much as the first :]. Special thanks to Cocobunny79 for proofreading.

The toddler's small nostrils clenched and his nose scrunched as the smell of baby powder and other baby products and unpleasant byproducts lingered in the chilly morning air. His face went slack and his half-mast eyes remained blank as he stared at the faint streams of soft morning light that squeezed past the green grill at random intervals. As he watched, the black curtain slowly floated up and down with the wind's silent caress and the young light peeked in whenever the curtain had traveled too high to bar its entrance.

He sat up; using one flabby arm to prop himself up and yawned soundlessly and widely. Tom was still far too young to bother covering his yawns with his hands yet still, one rose to wipe the tears that always woke with the morning ritual.

Just as his body finally reached a full sitting position, a loud snore rumbled through the room and shattered the peace into pieces. His young body stiffened as he realized the wizard from the night before was still in the room and quickly, as if he thought the wizard would disappear soon, crawled to the front of his crib. His skin prickled with goose bumps.

The dark eyes remained curious as they stared intently at the young teenager. Although the boy's covered stomach laid in the darkened section which the toddler's crib also rested in; his head was close enough to the window that the occasional rays of sunlight managed to give it a weak shine. The teen's hair wasn't messed up by sleep, as the toddler's quite clearly was, yet its natural messy style made it appear just as chaotic. At the sight, Tom couldn't help but wonder how something so horridly messy could exist and hastily lifted his hands and patted down his own hair. It was only after he was certain that his hair had been tamed that he managed to tear his gaze away from the unruly hair and look down. He shivered and frowned as he noticed the pleasant smile that was plastered on the teen's sleeping face.

The would-be dark lord leaned forward and reached his right hand out of the bars and towards the fallen form of the wizard. Nothing happened. He tried to reach further, his face so fixed in concentration that he looked constipated and his fingers stretched to their pudgy tips. A black spider scuttled slightly farther up the cream-white wall but nothing more occurred. With a pout, he retreated only to give a squeak of surprise as the cherry-wood crib refused to release his arm. His eyes went wide from shock and his breaths came faster from exertion as he tried to jerk his arm left and right. Left, right he tried again and again. His rapidly pinking arm barely moved. Finally he twisted his arm to the side and sweet release was found. He hugged the arm to his thumping chest.

With his dark eyes still wide with the remnants of surprise, a random patch of still messy hair on the very top of his otherwise neat head and a slightly parted mouth, he looked crazed enough to easily pass as Merope's son. He hissed at the bars of his crib as anger quickly chased away any other sliver of emotion.

With his face firm in determination yet again, he rose to the corner of his crib and began to climb. The pale face turned ruddy after numerous attempts yet he did finally manage to successfully throw his leg over the rail. After a bit more maneuvering, it became simple to leap to the ground. However, the quiet was not ruined this time by the plop of a body hitting the floor but instead by something far louder.

Harry awoke with a scream.

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His stomach joined his mouth in its cry of pain. Of course, since his stomach had no vocal cords with which it could scream, it instead clenched and curled as if a small grand piano had pounced upon it. Green eyes grew wide only to flinch half closed as light pierced their pupils. Unfortunately, they were better off simply staying closed for tears of pain, sleepiness and a lack of glasses revealed a world of only the vaguest blurs. Still, this didn't stop him from reaching confidently to where his wand sat patiently.

Yet, it was not a solid wooden surface that his hands found. Instead, they touched something fleshy and warm that he somehow instantly knew was Tom Riddle.

It was odd, only two nights before the thought would have given him panic but all he could feel was calmness towards the idea. Harry liked to think of it as acceptance of his self-appointed duty; though if asked, he couldn't honestly deny that it may have just as easily been from subconscious denial. Whatever the reason, it was because of this change of heart that Harry only blinked the sleep out of his eyes and languidly searched for his glasses even as he felt tiny fingers invading his pockets. With a pained grunt, he pushed himself into a sitting position and readied one hand to stop Riddle's curious ones while the other continued its search.

The world was still blurry to Harry when Tom's small hand loosely held the long wand. Harry's glasses gripped his nose and for two seconds the teenager witnessed such eagerness on the young Riddle's face it was a wonder if Tom didn't wet himself.

Suddenly, the young wizard's stomach dropped. Unfortunately, there was not enough time for him to make sense off the feeling before the world exploded into red and gold.

It is a well documented fact that amazing things can be achieved with adrenaline. Harry's reaction did nothing to disprove this. Despite being in a sitting position, Harry's arms and scrambling legs pushed with such strength that he found himself at least a good six inches backwards. A high pitch yelp escaped as he plopped onto the ground.

The wizard's face mirrored the toddler's shock at the sudden firework display. However, only Harry's chest rose and fell with alarming frequency while Tom's shock soon morphed into an expression of both greed and unparalleled glee.

"Mine," he said to the world with a smile so wide it made him appear more deranged than joyful. Pudgy fingers tightened around the wand to the point that his knuckles turned pallor. With the wand secure, he wasted no time in joyfully swishing it every which way he possibly could and chased the panicking shadows away with the red and gold sparks.

Unsurprising, nearly every toddler in the room smacked their dry lips with slobber and yawned in awakening at the unusual amount of noise. Meanwhile, Harry James Potter could be found awkwardly scrambling to his feet.

It didn't take long for Harry to catch up to Tom and awkwardly attempt a grab for his wand. Just as his fingers grazed the holly wand, Tom turned and bit harshly into his right hand. The teenager hissed nonsense; though more from surprise than pain, and stopped to examine his aching hand. If the blood slowly seeping out of his hand was any indication, Tom Riddle had gifted him with another scar.

The wizard took a deep breath and closed his eyes firmly as he adjusted partly to the pain but mostly to growing irritation. The toddler hadn't moved further than a few steps when the wizard's eyes opened and hardened in determination enough to earn the comparison to emeralds.

Tom Riddle seemed to sense the change for his steps became a louder thump, thump against the hard floor. Unfortunately for Tom, Harry's natural seeker skills came in handy for catching up with thieving toddlers. Unfortunately for Harry, the toddler was a natural at biting, kicking, dodging, hitting and head-butting his way to freedom. In no time at all, Harry was feeling suitably pathetic and felt the slightest twinge of sympathy for Voldemort's irritation at being beaten by a toddler.

Suddenly another thought occurred to Harry and he became as still as his erratic breathing would allow. The air itself crackled with energy. Still, Harry did not move from his position near the lonely window and Tom Riddle seemed to notice this lack of movement no more than the movement of the black spider.

The wizard's right hand curled, as if grasping an invisible wand, and lifted until it reached his eye level. Tiny droplets of blood languidly slithered down his right hand and he unconsciously licked his lips. Please work he thought and shouted, "Accio!"

SMACK!

Harry's hand snatched the wand only centimeters away from one of his wide, green eyes. He released a breath he hadn't realized he had held and felt a nearly overwhelming wave of gratitude for his seeker skills. Hesitantly, as if afraid that his balloon of joy would be burst before it was even fully filled, he lowered and opened his hand. I did it. I really did it. His grin grew so wide that it reached his eyes.

At first, Tom's face was rigid with anger but when he turned to face the astonished wizard, his features rearranged themselves into furrowed brows and his eyes quickly darted from the wand to the wizard's face. Finally Tom settled his gaze on the wand. The silence stretched.

"How?" Tom finally said. His eyes had glazed over and his hands clenched erratically with the desire to claim the wand from the wizard's possession. Harry looked up and felt as if a pail of icy water had been dumped on his head.

"Magic," Harry said simply and wrapped his fingers protectively around his wand.

Tom's hands stilled at the idea and his face rearranged itself into a thoughtful expression. After some consideration, which was only seconds for a three year old, the toddler seemed to find this a believable enough explanation and walked towards the wizard. He held out his small right hand as if he was expecting a handshake.

"Gimme," Tom said with a raised chin and a stern, almost angry, look that gave the impression that Harry was the delinquent child that stole the prized possession.

His dark eyes continued to bore into Harry's own, the expression they held refused to fade in its intensity. Harry met the stare with his own stern expression. They breathed in sync.

Tom Riddle had no chance, Harry thought. After all, why would he cower to Tom Riddle when he had refused to cower in the presence of Voldemort?

The curtain flapped noisily yet they both were too engrossed with their unannounced competition to look at the oddity. "No," Harry said just as the curtain climbed high enough that the sunlight finally managed to pierce Tom's pupils. Tom hissed, his eyes watering as stepped back into the safety of the shadows. The wizard scowled, thinking the hiss was aimed at him and tucked his wand safely away in the waistband of his slacks. Harry Potter had defeated Tom Riddle once more.

The curtain fell again. With the distracting light gone, Tom did what all three year olds do best. He gave a shriek of rage and barreled towards the wizard. Harry's scar tingled and he bolted like a deer.

The earlier chase had gone topsy-turvy. Now it was Harry that ran around the room, dodging the little fingers which snapped at his clothes. He was torn between amusement and horror as he easily dodged the toddler's vicious attacks. When the wizard turned sharply, he spared a glance at his pursuer's snapping fingers and allowed himself a small smile as he wondered if a crab was Tom Riddle's animagus form.

He had been dodging the attacks for some time when he found himself ghosting through the crib. He blinked at his disintegrating hands and suddenly had the nearly overbearing urge to hit himself for his stupidity. With the thump, thump of the toddler's feet still chasing him, he glided through the wall next to the lone window. Instinctively, he looked down and felt childish awe as he experienced another miracle of magic—he was floating, broomless, several stories above the courtyard of the orphanage.

Tom paused for a moment, clearly reconsidering his plan of attack before he settled on pursing his lips and banging on the wall. The head poking out of the wall went unnoticed.

Every time the small fists slammed against the wall Harry couldn't help but grimace. He stared at Tom curiously, musing if this was normal three year old behavior. As the toddler continued to incessantly pound on the bricks, Harry had to admit he felt a bit impressed with the toddler's determination. If he carried that level of determination throughout his life then it really was no wonder that he had managed to become a dark lord. He scowled at the thought and berated himself for thinking it. There would be no Voldemort.

His infamous scar had just begun to twinge again when he said, "You can touch the wand again." Tom stopped his assault at the statement and tilted his head in a way that would allow him to see the floating head out of the corner of his eye. He smiled slowly at the words, clearly thinking that he was victorious.

"When you're nice," the toddler's smile crumbled and was replaced by an affronted look.

"Nice?"

"Yes, you can't bite people. See this?" Harry allowed his hand to ghost through the wall. "It hurts. It's not nice to make people hurt."

"No bite?" Tom gave Harry a dubious look.

"No bite," Harry nodded. "And when you want to borrow something you say please. You can't just take it or say mine."

"Say please?" the would-be-dark-lord looked like he was barely resisting the urge to retch as he tasted the word.

Harry nodded again and allowed himself a preemptive smile at his success. Could it really be this easy? With some difficulty, Harry managed to swallow his excitement at the possibility. Luckily, Tom didn't see the smile because he had already turned his gaze to the window. The soft morning light made his jet black hair glisten and his lips thinned in concentration.

As the curtain began to fall again, Tom turned to Harry and evenly said, "Please?"

At the magic word, Harry ghosted through the brick wall and pulled his wand out of his pocket. The toddler's fingers snapped at the wand in a manner reminiscent of a snake and Harry reflexively ghosted back into the courtyard. After recovering from his surprise, he gritted his teeth and jabbed his head back through the wall. Although he valiantly tried to rein in his irritation, it leaked into his words as he firmly reminded Tom, "No bite!"

Riddle threw Harry a cross look and slowly, as if he expected to catch the wizard off guard, started to grab for the wand again. When Harry disappeared again Tom grudgingly returned his hand to his side and stared nastily at where Harry disappeared. The nasty expression refused to disappear even when the floating head reappeared.

"Not like you," Tom tilted his chin importantly and crossed his arms defiantly over his chest. His eyebrows furrowed deeply for a moment before he excitedly shouted out "Ugly!" and gave a small, prideful smile as if it had been a clever insult.

Harry couldn't help it—he laughed, albeit a tinge hollowly. Riddle growled at the wizard but Harry was far too distracted in his thoughts to hear.

Hadn't he thought that raising Tom Riddle would be easy only minutes ago? Did he really even stand the slightest chance of stopping Riddle from becoming Voldemort? What if he made Voldemort worse than he was to begin with? Every inch of him froze at the horrid idea before he quickly mentally shook it off. No, he couldn't let himself think like that. There must be a way; some sliver of a chance of success. This could even be normal three year old behavior; he realized and instantly felt the stress melt.

The green door creaked open and the other toddler's took this as their cue to cry. Riddle gritted his teeth and covered his ears with his hands at the noise. "Shush! I'm here! I'm here! Really now," her eyes widened as she suddenly noticed the wayward toddler. "Tom! What are you doing out of your crib!" Tom glowered at her and continued to cover his ears. "Mark my words the older children will never dare even look at you again if even one little hair of theirs had anything to do with this," she told Tom, as if she thought her tirade would comfort him. The tingling in the infamous scar increased so suddenly that Harry instinctively clasped his hand over it and clenched his eyes shut in preparation for agony.

In the future, the look that Riddle gave the woman could force ever the most foolhardy of followers to their trembling knees. However, she was too busy muttering about ungrateful children to notice and unhesitatingly reached for him.

Riddle tensed his jaw and pulled back his lips as she came closer. Harry had just opened his eyes when Riddle's teeth lunged for the hand. Although Harry wasted no time in shouting "no bite!" the reminder had come too late. Tom Riddle's teeth had already enclosed around the muggle's hand.

"You bit me!" she said and hastily dumped him in his crib.

"Ugly," he bit out from his crib as he shifted into a sitting position.

"That's naughty," she shook her finger at him and winced belatedly at the movement. "Now you sit there in time out and think about the naughty thing you've done. Be good and later you can play." She shook her head and muttered to herself, "Really, what has gotten into him, he's usually such a well-behaved child…"

Her foot paused in midair in its path to one of the others cribs. "Oh! Dear me. I nearly forgot. Really where has my head gone today?" Harry curiously watched as Riddle backed away into his corner, clearly having an idea of what she had forgotten.

"Now Tom, quit being silly. You need your diaper changed." Harry only barely smothered a laugh. Somehow, Tom noticed this and threw Harry a dirty look from his corner. Soon his ire was directed away from the wizard as the muggle's hands reached for him again. He swatted her hands away, fury giving them enough strength to make the muggle hesitate and allowing him time to press himself deeper into the corner. "No!"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle you will cease this ruckus this instant!" Riddle's face furrowed while the other children wore expressions of dire fear and he tilted his head as if an alien creature inhabited the area where the woman now stood. An evanescent sliver of fear entered woman's eyes.

While he seemed focused on his confusion, she quickly grabbed hold of him and slipped a finger under his diaper. The toddler thrashed, as if in indignation but the woman's hold was firm so there was little he could do. Soon, the confused expression that he had recently wore transferred to the woman. "Not even the slightest," she murmured to herself. She released the toddler as if he was a poisonous snake. Said snake sputtered bubbles angrily in his corner.

The toddler in the crib next to Tom's glanced over, his expression curious before breaking into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

A/N: Eep, Long AN sorry guys. Aoi Mitsukai brought up a good point whether Tom is going to actually be a sociopath rather than a psychopath. When I went on a spurge about it a few years back I remember the main difference between the two is that psychopathy was more so biological while sociopathy is mostly nurture. I've always viewed Voldemort's condition as mostly genetic (love potion, Gaunts' and Riddles' poor genes) so thats one of the main reasons I'm considering him psychopathic. As for whether Tom Riddle will be able to tell the difference between right and wrong and just not care (sociopath) or just not be able to know the difference period (psychopath)...he's not going to be able to tell the difference in the beginning (psychopath). All the other supposed differences between the two tend to overlap depending on the source you use so beyond those two points there will be no other differences between the two conditions. I'll be very surprised if the the differences between the two are ever going to come up in the story itself so don't worry if you forget.