Chapter 4: Chapter 4
Sorry it took a while for me to post this chapter guys. I've been quite busy, but I'm sure you don't want to sit there and read up my boring excuses, so I'll just go on with the story. :)
Just a fair warning for you lot. I may have made up some of the dates as the books and a few wikis weren't very specific about them - like the day Dumbledore visited Tom, for example.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
Review Responses:
AvalonTheLadyKiller - When you say 'push thoughts at the other', do you mean like a mind-link sort of way? And of course, there's a little 'meeting the ancestor' scene in this chapter just for you. I quite enjoyed writing it. XD Again, I can't thank you enough for your encouragement.
ulqui's-girl - Yes, there will be a time skip, with snippets of their first to fourth years of course. :)
bkasavan - Not much of a spoiler, really. More of an... alternative ending? Haha. Anyways, if Tom will be redeemed, you shall find out soon. X)
Em - In a way, she is. I'll be explaining things as the story progresses.
Thank you for all the great comments and continuous support to my stories, guys! It means a lot!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter; it all belongs to J.K Rowling and Warner Brothers Inc. However, I do own Alex.
Pairings: Tom Riddle Jr./Alex Potter, mentions of Harry/Draco, Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Blaise/Daphne and Past!Alex/Theo
Warnings: Language, Character Death, Adult Scenes, False Twincest, Sadism
"Speaking"
'Thoughts'
"Parseltongue"
Alex held her breath as she listened intently from her hiding place, the passage behind the one-eyed witch statue Fred and George had told her and Harry about. She had noticed how much he had been watching her, following her quite frequently. He always had that intense look in his eyes, an emotion she couldn't quite decipher. It was very disconcerting. Whenever they were together — heck, even when they were apart — she could feel his eyes on her. If not him, he'd send someone to keep an eye on her.
She sighed deeply as the footsteps finally disappeared, her back tiredly leaning against the wall of the narrow passageway.
October 31, 1938
"I told you I'm fine." Alex assured her 'brother'.
Tom however did not look convinced as he eyed her near-empty plate. "You aren't eating."
"Yes, I am."
"I' would hardly call a couple of cookies a meal, sister."
"I'm not that hungry." However, Alex's stomach betrayed her, grumbling loudly enough for both Tom and Alex to hear. Tom wordlessly scooped up a spoon-full of his mashed potatoes, and holding it up to Alex's mouth. Alex, stubborn as she was, turned away.
Tom sighed. "You aren't making this easy, are you?"
Reaching out, Tom gently placed a hand on Alex's cheek, turning her head so she was facing him again. Alex shivered slightly at the cold contact, her emerald eyes looking up to meet his forest green ones. They flashed with an unreadable emotion, but Tom shook his head, breaking their eye contact, and holding the spoon up to her lips.
"Eat." he told her firmly. Alex eyed the spoon as if it held poison, but slowly — and very much reluctantly — opened her mouth.
Tom force-fed her throughout dinner until he was satisfied with how much she had eaten. He had ignored how all the other girls had swooned, squealing how he was being such a 'sweet brother'. Alex nearly snorted at that. 'Tom Riddle' and 'sweet' simply did not belong together, not even in the same sentence.
February 2, 1939
She sat on her favourite spot by the lake, leaning against a tree stump with an open book on her lap. If Harry had been there, he would have dragged her to the Quidditch pitch, not that she would complain. It was the perfect weather for flying: there was not a dark cloud in the sky, and it was nice and breezy. She had briefly contemplated on trying out for the Quidditch team, but who was she kidding? Men in the forties were no better than the sexist pigs in the nineties. Women were discriminated all the same, only here, it was worse. Women were simply trophy wives, nothing more; they didn't play sports, they didn't even duel!
No wonder these people had such low defenses. The girls here seemed overly delicate. At least Pansy Parkinson could duel, Alex had thought, the girls here couldn't cast a proper shield charm to save their lives.
"Sickle for your thoughts?" Alex's head snapped up. Tom stood only a couple of feet from her, a smirk plastered on his lips, and his own book tucked safely under his arm.
"Pardon?"
"You haven't turned that page for nearly ten minutes. What's bothering you?"
Alex's eyes narrowed warily, and Tom's smirk fell. "It's none of your business. And how long have you been watching me?"
Tom ignored her question, silently seating himself right next to her — a little too close to her in her opinion. "You've been straying from me, sister." he crooned, running his hands down her arms, and sending unpleasant chills down Alex's spine. "Why is that?"
"It's nothing." Alex cringed when Tom's eyes hardened, and his hands gripped her wrists firmly.
"Tell me." he demanded. "Why is it that you avoid me, and instead, you choose to spend your time with those foolish, lowly Gryffindors?"
"I don't have to tell you anything." Alex retorted angrily, her eyes blazing, "You do not have any say about whom I choose to be friends with." She yanked her arms from his grasp, snapping her book shut as she stood. "I'll see you in the common room."
She could still feel Tom's furious gaze boring into her back as she trudged up the castle.
August 21, 1939
Her head was pounding, and her body was shivering. She felt strange, but not sick. She had no cold or temperature, and was not nauseated in the least. But she felt as if something was missing. Oddly enough, she couldn't remember when she had climbed into her bed. Last she could recall, she had been outside, conversing with one of the garden snakes. She was distinctly aware of the hand that brushed through her locks.
"What are you doing?" she asked plainly.
Tom chuckled, and Alex could feel his chest vibrating with his low laughter behind her. He was too close. "Hush now, Alex, and go to sleep. They won't be able to hurt you now."
What?
Alex shifted her position, so she was laying on the bed, facing Tom.
Tom had his head propped on his elbow as he laid down sideways on the bed, facing Alex. He had an oddly smug and satisfied look on his face, making the ravenette look up at him in suspicion. "Tom, what happened? What did you do?"
Tom blinked, his expression contorting into one of confusion, "Do you not remember?"
"I would not be asking if I did." Alex snapped, "Now what happened?"
"Never you mind. It's nothing to concern yourself with, sister." Tom said, and smiled. Alex was momentarily stunned. Tom had smiled! The world must be ending. "Now get some more sleep. It's rather late."
Alex knew it was no coincidence that Billy Stubbs had walked around the orphanage the following day, covered in bandages and rather large bite marks, refusing to look either twin in the eye.
September 29, 1940
"No."
Alex's cheeks flushed in anger, "Why not?" She hissed. "I'm perfectly capable."
"You could hurt yourself." said Tom, looking up from one of the older books he had borrowed from the library's restricted section, "And it is unbecoming of a lady to indulge in sports."
"Oh please —"
"You are not trying out for the Quidditch team, and that is my final word on the matter." Tom interrupted as Alex's mouth opened to protest once more. Alex's expression was caught between scowling and pouting.
"The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws have girls on their teams." She argued.
"That is because they do not possess proper pure blood mannerisms."
"Neither do I."
Tom glared, "And here lies our problem, sister. Your mannerisms are rather... crude. It is unbecoming of a lady, much less a Slytherin."
Alex turned on her heel and exited the common room without a retort, leaving Tom to stare blankly at the spot where she had previously stood.
A couple of days later, the lineups for the Quidditch team had been posted, and Tom seethed. Alex had made the team... as a seeker.
Whispers erupted in the common room upon seeing her name. A girl on the Slytherin Quidditch team? It was simply unheard of!
"Did I not say that you could not join the Quidditch team?" He snapped at her later that same night as she entered the near-empty common room. Alex merely brushed passed him, her face stoic. Tom reached out and grabbed her arms roughly, pulling her back to face him, and ignoring her wince. "How dare you disobey me!"
When Alex didn't answer, he shook her, "Answer me, Alex!"
"Do you care about me, Tom?"
Tom was taken aback by the sudden question, and the seriousness in his 'sister's' eyes.
"Of... Course." He answered, but there was a sense of uncertainty to it. "You know you're important to me, Alex."
A sardonic smile crossed Alex's face, and she shook her head. "Somehow I doubt that. You can't even see how making the team means a lot to me."
Even Harry had been happy for her, and they were playing for different teams.
"You could get hurt!" Tom hissed. "I won't allow it!"
"Too bad," Alex snarled, "because I'm playing whether you like it or no — eeek!" Alex squeaked when Tom suddenly pulled her close, his arms wrapping securely around her form. "Tom, what — ?"
"I can't stand to see you hurt." Tom said.
Alex sighed, looking up at him. Ever so hesitantly, she placed a hand on his cheek, much like he so often did to her. "Hey," she said softly, her thumb brushing along his cheekbone. "I'll be fine."
Tom closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. She had never touched him like this before. It felt... good. Her hand was soft and warm against his cheek, and it sent tingles through him.
His eyes snapped open when Alex's hand dropped from his cheek. He would never admit it, but he already missed the warmth of the contact.
"Goodnight, Tom."
He never missed a single Quidditch after that, so long as Slytherin was playing.
December 25, 1941
Tom sat in front of the fireplace, a book in hand. He and Alex had chosen to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas, like they always did. It really was a relief to be able to escape that bloody orphanage.
He jumped slightly as something soft wrapped around his neck, then a pair of arms moved to rest in either shoulder. The touch was so familiar, yet so foreign, and never failed to send the heat jolting through him.
"Merry Christmas!" Alex chirped cheerfully, and Tom could feel her her breath close to his ear. There was that odd feeling again. Was it him, or did his pants feel a tad bit tighter? "I know it's not much, but I hope you like it anyway."
Tom looked down at the woollen fabric around his neck. It was a green scarf with the Slytherin crest on it, and his name stitched on one corner. He knew then, that she had put some effort into this. Everyone else had simply gotten him books, one of which he had just been reading.
"I haven't gotten you anything." Tom whispered, and Alex shrugged, plopping herself next to Tom on the couch.
"Well, you can repay me by getting off the couch and go for a walk with me by the lake or the Quidditch pitch." She suggested cheekily. She made to stand, pulling him with her, when she found that she couldn't move. "What the — ?"
Tom wasn't listening. He was too busy staring at the plant hanging above their heads with undisguised shock. Then, he glanced down at Alex, who looked absolutely mortified.
Enchanted mistletoe.
"You know we have to." said Tom.
Alex shook her head in protest, "We can't, Tom! It's just wrong!"
He cupped her head in his hands to keep her still and leaned forward. It was nothing more than a brush of their lips, but the sparks if electricity that coursed through them was intense. Alex's eyes were wide with horror once Tom had pulled away, and hastily rushed back to the girls' dorms once she could move, the door slamming shut behind her.
Tom remained still, his eyes closed in bliss. His heart was thudding painfully in his chest, and his blood seemed to heat up. The feeling was overwhelming, yet he wanted more. He craved more.
January 15, 1942
She was avoiding him every chance she got, and she was certain he had noticed. It had been three weeks since the incident, and at that instant, something had changed between them. And to think she had finally started warming up to the bloke. She was such an idiot. She was too deep in thought that she hadn't noticed where she was going, and bumped into someone as she turned the corner, falling right on top of the person.
Alex scrambled off him at once, "Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry!"
"It's fine." The boy chuckled as he tried to stand, and Alex took that time to see who she had actually bumped into.
Merlin's beard, he looked almost exactly like Harry, only with hazel eyes. He was lean, and had the same messy black hair, and wore round glasses, which have been knocked askew. She was beginning to think that the males in her lineage were cursed with messy hair and bad eyesight. There was no doubt this was Charlus Potter. Her grandfather.
Alex bit her lip and held her hand out to help him, and Charlus accepted it with caution.
"I'm really sorry. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going." said Alex sheepishly. She was actually talking to her grandfather! He looked to be the same age as her — how on earth had she missed his name at the sorting?
"No harm done. I'm Charlus Potter, by the way." he introduced.
Alex gave a curt nod and smiled. "Alex Riddle." she took his hand, placing his glasses on his open palm, "You dropped this."
"Thanks," he chuckled, putting his glasses back on. "So you're the nice Slytherin Minerva was telling me about?"
"Nice? I always thought she'd call me temperamental."
"Well, she did mention you had a bad habit of hexing Amelia Parkinson."
Alex snorted, "She deserves it."
"Where were you heading anyway?" asked Charlus.
"The Great Hall."
Charlus smiled, before he extended her arm out to her. "Then may I escort the lovely maiden to the Great Hall then?" Alex smiled, her hand reaching out to take his when...
"Alex!"
Both Alex and Charlus turned to see Tom striding towards them, and grabbing Alex's outstretched arm and pulling her close to him — away from Charlus. "Potter," he nodded curtly in greeting.
"Riddle," Charlus returned the gesture, before turning to Alex, "I suppose I'll see you around."
Alex smiled at him as he walked off, and turned to glare at Tom. "What do you want?" she hissed.
"I have something to show you." he told her, and dragged her to the direction of the library. She barely caught how Tom had glared heatedly at the Potter boy's back as they parted.
May 16, 1942
He was so close, he could feel it! He was certain that Salazar's hidden chamber existed, but where it was hidden, boggled him immensely. He sighed as he set the book down. He and Alex had already thoroughly searched the library the past few months, but found nothing that could help them. So he had taken the liberty of asking his dorm mates for a few books from their family's personal library.
He chuckled at the thought of his... followers. Funny what a simple Cruciatus curse could do.
He glanced at his sister's sleeping form on the couch. She had her robes off, so he had a better view of her petite body. She had matured greatly since their first year. He knew it was wrong, but he found himself growing more... infatuated with her. He didn't think that it was possible for him to become attracted to the opposite gender — Alex had mocked him once for being asexual. And here he was, craving for his sister's touch. He absolutely adored her wit, her kindness, impulsiveness, even her temper. He relished the overwhelming sensations that coursed through him every time she touched him.
He hadn't forgotten the kiss they had shared last Christmas. He wanted to do it again, but her reluctance was making it difficult for him.
Alex stirred in her sleep, her skirt hitching up and exposing more of the smooth, creamy skin of her thighs. His pants tightened again. How he longed to have her bare form writhing under him as he pleasured her. He could feel his member harden at the thought.
Tom shook his head violently. No, he couldn't. This was Alex, his sister — his twin! It was very wrong to think of her in such a manner.
Yet to him, it was all the more reason to do it.
Back to the Present... October 21, 1942
Once the coast was clear, Alex exited the passageway with a sigh of relief. She was taken aback, however, when she found herself suddenly pressed against the wall, and her arms pinned to her sides by firm hands. She struggled, thinking it had been Tom, and kneed the bloke directly at his crotch.
The person doubled over in pain, grunting, "Bloody hell, Alex..."
Alex gazed down at him with wide eyes, a sob escaping her. She thought she would never see him again. Merlin, he was supposed to be dead! So what was he doing here?
"Blaise?"
Oooh, cliffhanger! Sorry if it's pretty short. These were only meant to be snippets, and the actual present time story will come into play in the next chapter. Please review and tell me what you think!
~Cassandra