"He went so far as to hope that human justice would mete out punishment unflinchingly. But he wasn't afraid to say it: my callousness inspired in him a horror nearly greater than which he felt at the crime of parricide." – 'The Stranger'- Albert Camus

For Sarah, who typed out the entire section of Morfin's memory from HP6 for me when I had lost my book. Without her, this chapter would never be. Also, I must put the disclaimer that this chapter is largely JKR's.

Cruel Parricide

It was a warm day, but Tom was shivering as he walked down the main road in Little Hangleton. He couldn't contain his trepidation and excitement at the thought that, in a few minutes, he would finally meet Marvolo— he who shared his middle name.

Tom had long envisaged this meeting. He was sure that Marvolo would be a great wizard. He had to be, as a fellow descendant of Salazar Slytherin.

Tom paused and closed his eye, breathing in the sweet scent of jasmine and honeysuckle in the air.

It was a beautiful evening.

Tom opened his eyes slowly and was met with the picture of the sun, setting over a magnificent house. Slowly, he progressed towards this house. He was certain that only wizards of immense power and affluence would be worthy of such a mansion.

He frowned, however, when he saw that the house number did not match the address he had written down. Sighing in frustration, Tom proceeded past the house and continued until he came upon a shabby, dirty shack.

He looked to his paper in disbelief.

Surely there had been some mistake—descendents of the great Slytherin, living in a wreck like this?

Tom lit up a lamp and gingerly pushed the door open.

It creaked.

Slowly, he looked around the hovel until his eyes fell upon a filthy man sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room of the wreck of a room. His beard was so overgrown that Tom could see neither eyes nor mouth.

Tom lowered his eyes to the empty bottle of vodka the man was holding in one hand, and then the knife and wand he held in the other hand.

It was then that Tom felt the sinking feeling of disappointment. The wand only confirmed that the man was a wizard.

They stared at each other and then, suddenly, the man staggered upright, the many empty bottles at his feet clattering and tinkling across the floor.

'YOU!' he bellowed. 'YOU!'

And he hurtled drunkenly at Tom, wand and knife held aloft.

Tom swallowed quickly, making his decision quickly.

'Stop,' he hissed in Parseltongue.

The man skidded into the table, sending mouldy pots crashing to the floor. They stared at each other and there was a long silence while they contemplated each other. The man broke it.

'You speak it?'

'Yes, I speak it,' said Tom. He moved forwards into the room, allowing the door to swing shut behind him.

He wasn't scared of the man. Quite the opposite, he was revolted and disgusted that he was related to such filth—

That such filth was meant to be as pureblood as it gets.

'Where is Marvolo?' he asked, hoping that perhaps this man was merely a servant.

'Dead,' the man responded. 'Died years ago, didn't he?'

Tom frowned.

'Who are you, then?'

'I'm Morfin, ain't I?'

'Marvolo's son?' Tom repeated in disbelief.

'Course I am, then…'

Morfin paused to push the hair out of his dirty face to get a better view of Tom, and Tom narrowed his eyes as he caught sight of the black-stoned ring on Morfin's ring on his right hand.

'I thought you was that Muggle,' whispered Morfin. 'You look mighty like that Muggle.'

'What Muggle?' said Tom sharply, his heart beating faster in his chest.

'That Muggle what my sister took a fancy to, that Muggle what lives in the big house over the way,' said Morfin, and he spat unexpectedly upon the floor between them. 'You look right like him. Riddle. But he's older now, in'e? He's older'n you, now I think on it…'

Morfin looked slightly dazed and swayed a little, still clutching the edge of the table for support.

'He come back, see,' he added stupidly.

Tom gazed at Morfin, his eyes calculating, and took a step closer.

'Riddle came back?'

'Ar, he left her, and serve her right, marrying filth!' said Morfin, spitting on the floor again. 'Robbed us, mind, before she ran off! Where's the locket, eh, where's Slytherin's locket?'

Tom did not answer. Morfin was working himself into a rage again; he brandished his knife and shouted, 'Dishonoured us, she did, that little slut! And who're you, coming here and asking questions about all that? It's over, innit… it's over…'

He looked away, staggering slightly, and Tom moved forwards. He gave a small flick of his wand and, as he did so, an unnatural darkness fell, extinguishing his lamp and Morfin's candle.

'Stupefy.'

--

Tom's breathing was ragged as he stalked out of the hut, towards that mansion he had first seen. He felt possessed with hatred and anger…

He had left her. He had left him.

Tom clenched his fists. He would make him pay.

Through the gate, past the front door, up the staircase…

It all happened so quickly.

Before he knew it, he was in the doorway of the dining room. Tom shivered in disgust as he saw him. It was as though he was looking at an older version of himself, and yet this version was weak and pathetic- a filthy muggle. He had to fight the urge to kill him then and there.

Slowly, he walked into the room and saw an elderly man and woman, sitting opposite each other across the table. Tom refused to even consider that they were his grandparents.

Without a second thought, he had raised his wand—

'Avada Kedavra.'

A flash of green light and the woman was dead.

'Ladies first,' Tom thought grimly.

The elderly man and his father both looked up from their meals, alarmed.

'Phyllis?'

'Mother?'

A second flash, and the old man was sent the same way as his wife.

Tom watched dispassionately as his father gasped and went to get up. Cooly, Tom walked into his view and sat at the opposite head of the table.

His father paled to a ghostly white.

'What is this?' he whispered. 'Who are you?'

Tom merely stared at him. He was surprised at how little he felt as he saw who was meant to be his father.

The man began to break out into a sweat. Tom waited. He wouldn't say anything, but would wait for his fool of a father to realise.

He didn't have to wait long.

'Me…ro…pe…' he whispered, realisation evident in his expression.

He looked at Tom, his eyes sad.

'She… she was telling the truth, then? She…she wasn't lying when she said she was pregnant?'

He shook his head, his eyes closing and looking pained.

'And you're my son?'

Tom shook his head vehemently, disgusted at the sight in front of him.

'I am no son of yours, vermin.'

He paused, looking into the eyes which were exactly like his.

'Avada Kedavra.'

Returning to the orphanage after everything he had just done was a surreal experience for Tom. He felt as though he was in a daze as he walked through the familiar, whitewashed corridors—

It was strange. He had killed so many people now- achieved so much since he left the orphanage last year, and yet, the orphanage was just the same. The orphans still wore their shabby, gray shift uniforms, Sister Jackie was still an alcoholic, and the orphanage still smelt like freshly baked bread.

He closed his eyes as he came to the end of the hall and heard her familiar laugh. Suddenly, there was a squeal followed by running footsteps. Tom opened his eyes as a few of the younger girls ran through the hallway, laughing, chased by Selene.

She caught them, just before they reached him.

'Gotcha!' Selene laughed, ruffling the youngest one's hair.

The girl squirmed and Selene laughed. She looked up and stopped suddenly when she saw Tom.

But her eyes were still alight.

'Tom!' she said, going up to him. 'You're back!'

He nodded stiffly.

'Yes, I am,' he said formally. 'I see you're wasting your holidays, as always.'

The two girls came and hid behind her back, and Selene put her arms around their shoulders.

'Why don't you play with us, Tom?' she grinned.

Tom opened his mouth to say but, before he could respond, Selene was dragging him down the hallway.

'Okay, girls. Your turn to find us. Make sure you close your eyes and count to ten!'

Selene started running, pulling Tom with her. Suddenly, she let go of his arm-feeling as though something had scalded her.

'What…'

Tom glared at her.

'I don't play childish games,' he said icily.

Selene sighed impatiently.

'Why can't you just have fun, for once? It's just a five-minute game. You've been away doing God knows what, why can't you just play with us for a bit?'

Tom raised an eyebrow and walked right up to Selene. Selene swallowed, not used to being in such close proximity with someone.

'You want me to play with you?' he whispered in her ear.

Selene shivered and stood back, coming to a dead end against the wall.

She swallowed again.

'Well?' Tom asked.

'I want you to play with us- Hide and Seek,' Selene said flatly, not liking his tone.

'Okay then,' Tom smiled sardonically.

'Ready or not, here we come!'

Selene gasped as Tom suddenly grabbed her wrist. The next thing she knew, she was being sucked into nothingness.

Thanks once again to Sarah (her ffdotnet pen-name is Saciice. Look her up!)

So I've decided that I'm going to tweak a bit of what happened in the 'back story' from TGM for this. Nothing yet, but just be warned that I won't be sticking exactly to those flashback scenes we saw in TGM.

I'm excited for the next chapter-

'Selene's teeth chattered and she shivered and she raised her head to see that they were in a dark, dank cave…'

Show me your love by reviewing!

Love Anya