I screamed. Out of all possibilities my brain couldn't quite comprehend what in fact had happend. Tom Riddle had murdered a rat. He had murdered a rat! That wasn't exactly your every day activity to be meddling yourself with- quite frankly not so much!

Before I could've even made a strategic move to flee the crimescene, the boy acted out quickly as he strode towards me with a heavy glower edged onto his face and covered my mouth with his hand as he forcefully pushed me against the wall.

'Be quiet!'

'Mmghhhnhgh.' I protested, frowning deeply as I smelled a strange aroma of something that infiltrated my nostrils at the moment. Was that... blood? My eyes widened another couple inches, if that was entirely possible. 'Nghh!'

'If you don't stop screaming Walters, you'll be the one to follow next.' He spat venomously. His dark eyes were boring into mine as he stood against me, locking my legs to not flee or run away and going bonkers whilst screaming out for the matron's help. In the darkness of the hour, dark pools of depths were rowing a wild storm inside of the black irises- the insensity of his stare could made any grown man feel the least comfortable they had been before putting on their morning robes. However, as much as I have tried to deny the fact that I was, in fact, a girl. The situation nonetheless made my knees quiver, if it wasn't for the toxicating smell I was forced to inhale so brutally.

'You won't speak a single word about this- ever.' He hissed out the latter, painfully tightening his grip onto my shoulder. There was a slight twinge of fear coming along the way he spoke- desperate for me not to tell on him. And I knew, that when Tom Riddle didn't want them talking- he'd have them not talking for eternity. 'Do you understand? Or do I have to demonstrate what happens to girls who don't do what they're told...'

'Mgh!' My eyes widened, shaking my head vigorously. I remembered all too well what he had done to Amy Benson and Dennis Bischop. I knew it was him- it just had to be. There weren't a lot of eleven year old psychopaths, but in East End, nothing was ever too strange.

I waited for him, wondering what he was about to do next. The question probably raced through his mind as well as he let go of my shoulder with extreme care. 'That's right. Be a good girl and go back to your room.' He bit out, dropping his hand as he carefully took a step backwards. He acted as if I was a wild animal from the amazon, ready to attack-

And perhaps he guessed that right.

I didn't even have words to describe whatever I was feeling- and I knew a thumbing lot of words for my social class. Patsy think, I chided to myself. He just murdered a bloody rat. What do people usually do when someone got murdered or stabbed?

'...Mrs Cole!' I shrieked, yelling loud enough to have alerted at least the entire corridor. Frantically I wurmed past him, tyring to run away before he grabbed a hold of my wrist.

'Wrong choice.' he spat, trying to haul me off to god knows where. Squirming and trying to kick his legs, I decided to bite in his hand when he covered my mouth.

Oh I'll show him how animalistic I can be

'Mrs Cole!' I cried out once again as Tom jerked his hand back as quickly as possible. I didn't have to imagine the distate on his face to understand he did not appreciate that.

'Ouch!'

'Ng!'

'Let go!'

'Stop wriggling you...'

Slap!

The noise echoed quite loudly in the dark, cold corridor. There were a few seconds of silence, then I heard Mr Cole's calm voice- calm in the way a volcano was calm before the eruption.

'Children? What in God's name are you both doing out here?'

Slowly, the elder woman approached from the other side of the corridor, pacing a stride with her morning robes flowing behind her as we so duly had interrupted her beauty sleep. I breathed out heavily- being worked out by the protesting and squirming against the maniac next to me, whom was acting as if he didn't just tried to... How did he do that?

'Mrs Cole.'

Clearing his throat, Tom Riddle worked an excusing smile onto his face as he regarded the woman with the knife held behind his back. My eyes jumped from one side to the other as kids started to leave their rooms- carefully stepping into the corridor with great measure. You never knew what was hiding out here, after all.

There! He had nowhere to hide anymore now...

'I heard a strange noise, and it appeared Patsy had been sleepwalking- that's why I tried to...wake her up a bit.'

'He's lying!' I blurted out before realising that I had been found with him in the corridor and I seemed to be equally suspicious in the eyes of our matron. Confirming my thoughts as Mrs Cole glowered down at me, she crossed her arms and narrowed her beady little eyes.

'Young lady you best tell the truth this instant or you'll both get a year's worth of cleaning duty.' She threatened, pointing her finger at me.

Someone must've found the rat as I heard a high pitched scream coming from behind me. It alarmed the others as well- as all the children darted towards the end of the corridor and went to look what all the hubbub was about.

'H-he's dead!'

Whispers broke out inside of the hallway as the face of our matron turned grim and the usual wrinkles accessorising her gaunt-like eyes became more prominent than ever as the vulcano seemed to have finally exploded. '...Dead?'

The tension dropped another hundred degrees as Emilie held the box with what was left of Billy Snobb's rat- which I had highly mixed feelings about. I didn't like him having pets- especially what belonged inside of a sewer. However, that it just had to be Billy's rat...

Are you in your right mind? I frowned at what battle my brains were having at the moment. Tom just killed a defenceless animal, no matter how cruel the owner was.

'Oh, get that thing out of my face girl!' the blonde woman shrieked, holding her morning robe closer to herself. Emilie waivered her steps hestitantly, frowning as she wasn't really sure what to do with the body- I strangely felt like contacting tweedle dee and tweedle dum, proudly offering their first crimescene. However, as that sounded hilarious in my mind, in reality, I was facing the worst thing imaginable. Blamed for a crime you did not commit.

'Mrs-'

'No! I won't have any of your sickening little antics anymore!' she spat, scaring half of the children that were watching her explode like a fine shaken champagne bottle.

'But I wasn't-'

'Twelve months of cleaning duty! And you may take your little friend with you-'

'We are not friends!' Tom and I argued in synchrone, shooting each daggers at each other as I perfectly knew how we weren't friends.

'Go back to bed! Everyone, there's nothing to see here.' Mrs Cole sneered. And as an obedient crowd of pigeons they all left to return to their rooms, shocked by the events of the night. Had only Billy lived on the second floor- he would've gone bonkers. Somehow I was grateful for being one of the more unfortunate souls.

'You'll get a notice when you may begin scrubbing.' And with that, the gargoyle left me to my defences. 'Dead rats...'

Slowly, the door of my room creaked open, admitting a brilliant ray of light that cut through the darkness like a red hot knife through butter. It fell on Tom Riddle's face, which also was pretty much red hot, at least in the places where my hand had made contact with his cheek.

'You,' he narrowed his eyes mendaciously, his jaw taut, 'are either considerably dumb or have more morals than apparent at first sight.'

I narrowed my eyes, crossing my arms. 'What is that supposed to mean, "more than apparent at first sight"?'

His threatening dark-coloured eyes fixed on my face again. 'It is supposed to mean more morals than one would expect from a girl who runs around the halls in her birthday suit!'

'Hey, I did not run around the halls in my...whatever.' My inner feminist screamed at me. Why did he had to bring that up now? 'It is you, who decided to barge in like that and demand me to get dressed right infront of yours truly!'

'An idea I thought no sane individual would take seriously.'

'Well, I have, at least I'm not a psychopath that kills animals for having a go at it!'

He shook his head derisively, looking down at the knife in his hands. I almost had forgotten I was chatting with a murderer. Something seemed to spark in his dark eyes, and though his facial expression didn't really change, he somehow suddenly seemed...satisfied. Almost as if he had made up a victorious plan. Oh blast!

'You don't know the half of it,' He said. 'Sleep well.'

The next morning I was awakened by a vehement knock on the door. Before I either had the time to rub the sleep out of my eyes, much less call 'enter', the door was thrown open and a bucket clattered onto the stone floor, which on closer inspection revealed Martha to be holding a mop, trying to look as austere as possible as she let it lean against the wall. She did not a very good job of the latter as it stumbled multiple times.

'Thare! Yer mop 'n' bucket, water ye can gie fae 'th kitchens- ye kin stairt frae th' first fluir up tae th' second- understood?'

I blinked, sleepily- realising I was to clean the entire orphanage with no little than three hours of sleep last night.

'Urr ye alrigh'?' she asked.

Yawning rather superfluous, I groaned as I got reminded of the lack of food the fast few days. 'Martha. You don't happen to carry any breakfast with you, right?'

Offering a sad smile, the help shook her head regrettably. 'Ah fear nae. Orders o' th' matron, lassy.' Bending down, she grabbed the mop that had fallen onto the ground once again. 'Mibbie if y'er dane earlie- ah kin mend ye something?'

Well that sounded rather scrumptious

'Git dressed, Patsy. It's time tae tackle th' floors.' She rushed out and I did as she had ordered. However, I dressed with even less care than usual. It was rather unnecessary really. It was a weekday, soon enough I would be exchanging my dress for a pair of second-hand school robes that were given to the salvation army- for all those too poor to pay for a pair of slacks.

I felt a slight tremor run through me at the thought of encountering him again. Fear? No, it couldn't be fear. Perhaps I hadn't processed the events of last night to really be afraid of him.

I went downstairs and started filling up the water as been told. For a change, Mrs Cole was not in a sour mood over my new supposed 'triggers' of being mentally insane. Her mind was more pleasantly engaged. There was a visitor.

Oh I heard it alright.

'Look! Someone's coming!' a girl proclaimed outside in the corridor.

'What is he wearing?'

'Girls! Settle down, we've trained for this!' the voice of our lovely matron cleared through the hallway as she tried to ease the rising commotion. I snorted, grabbing the bucket out of the sink as I tried to not let it spill over the kitchen floor- our cook wouldn't appreciate it. They always had an act up when anyone visited- even if it was the postman.

I had dropped my hopes for getting adopted a long while ago, I didn't care anymore who wanted to have a piece of the tarte of Mrs Cole. Half of that pie was expired- meaning the HOC's.

'Oh come in Sir, what pleasure have we found upon us to have a visitor this early upon the day?' Meaning, we hadn't even had breakfast yet and who was he to dare keep us from it. I edged closer towards the door as I tried to get to open it single handedly- Where was Tom when you needed him?

'My apologies, Mrs Cole. I do seem to have a knack for rising early...' the voice of man louded as I got the doorknob to turn, opening the door as silently as possible.

As I stepped foot in the hallway- the visitor finally got to my eyesight as I noticed an elderly man, taking off his raincoat. 'You've received my letters, I presume?'

Something clicked in the way Mrs Cole stood a little straighter, nodding. 'Oh your letters, you're...Tom's relative?'

Splash!

The bucket that had been filled with water now clattered onto the floor.

...Tom Riddle had relatives!?

My dear witches and wizards,

Any idea who the visitor is? ;)

It has been a while since I updated, but I can explain, wait a little beforeyou get those pitchforks out of the closets!

Friday I'll be going on a 6 week vacation trip- which is planned, rest assured.

Thus I had to simply finish this chapter to an extent, where I owed my readers to read something first for the beginning of their summer holidays.

I'll try to find the time to write, I promise you that.

I wish everyone a happy holidays,

Yours truly,

Lady Dominique.