Tom hated Malfoy, with every fibre of his body. The blond was arrogant, annoying and never left him alone for more than five minutes. One would think Malfoy wanted something else from him. But Tom knew better. The Malfoy heir was pestering him, because the elder thought Tom was a mudblood. Which was untrue.
Tom had been researching his family, or at least what he knew of them. The woman from the orphanage had never been able to tell him who his mother was, she didn't know anything about her, besides the fact that she was young and demanded his name would be Tom Marvolo Riddle. But Dumbledore knew who his mother was. Merope Gaunt. She had been a pureblood. He didn't know anything about his father, only his last name, which he carried now. There was no wizard family with the name 'Riddle', pureblood or otherwise. Which meant his father was a muggle. That was something he would look into later. For now, he was pleased with the wizard-side of his family.
Everything would change now. Tom had been practising his magic as well. While others were busy with silly things like quidditch and girls, he had been studying, light magic as well as dark magic. He had been preparing everything for this exact moment. Now he was ready to face the older boy.
He turned the yellowish page of the old book lying upon his lap. It was another book about the dark arts. Professor Slughorn had let him borrow it from the forbidden section. The old fool was easily manipulated by his 'Brilliant, but poor orphan boy'-act. If he just asked it in the right way, their potions-professor would give him everything.
"Riddle!" He was interrupted by the Malfoy heir, flanked by his three cronies.
"Is there a problem, Abraxas?" He asked, not looking up or otherwise acknowledging the blonde's presence. Tom knew perfectly well what the problem was, he was after all seated in the chair Malfoy claimed for himself.
"Yes, you know there is, you insolent brat!" The boy hissed. "And it's Lord Malfoy for you."
"Lord Malfoy?" He looked up for the first time. "I prefer to call you Abraxas. Anything else?"
He was not going to give into this idiot Malfoy again. It was time for things to change. He had put up with the blonde's harassments from the first day, al through Christmas, this was going to end now.
"You are sitting in my chair." The Malfoy heir scowled. "But perhaps this is you inviting me to give you another lesson in manners."
"I thought we already settled who had the most manners. You did not come out on top, Abraxas." He dismissed all four of them, just by absorbing himself in his book again. By then they had the attention of everyone currently seated in the Slytherin common room. They were all looking at was happening, not interfering, knowing this was a fight for power, waiting to see who was going to come out on top.
"I will teach you a lesson, you filthy little mudblood!" The elder sneered.
Tom got up, his book dropped from his lap onto the hard-stone floor, his wand in his hand in mere seconds. "Call me a mudblood one more time, Abraxas, I dare you."
"Mudblood." Malfoy said, an evil grin upon his face.
Apparently, the blond thought he had won, finding his enemy's week spot. But nothing was farther from the truth. Tom knew he had to remain calm if he wanted to win this. Malfoy was a strong opponent, otherwise the boy would not be the Prince of Slytherin at age of thirteen. But he also knew he was stronger and he had gained a lot of knowledge and power of the past couple of months. And if he played this correct, he would not only defeat Malfoy, he would also win the respect of his fellow snakes.
Tom threw a spell first, knocking Malfoy's wand out of his hands. "Pick it up." He said.
The blond just stared at him, those cold blue eyes now filled with disbelieve. It had probably been a while since anyone disarmed him, let alone a first year.
"I said, pick it up." His voice was soft, but with no room for disobedience. "You have this one chance Abraxas, take it."
The elder picked up his wand and aimed it at him. Now Malfoy did not wait to attack, he threw one spell after the other, not waiting to catch his breath.
Tom grinned. This was going exactly as planned. The Malfoy heir was driven into a corner, knowing all too well what would happen if he should lose. But Tom was more focused on the task at hand, then Malfoy was. He blocked or deflected every single spell, without even breaking a sweat.
When he got the chance, Tom aimed a spell of his own at the Malfoy heir. The spell hit the other right in the middle of his chest, throwing him backwards, against the wall, not hard enough to knock him out cold, but hard enough to hurt him.
Tom stepped towards the other, picking up Malfoy's wand along the way. It had never been so quiet in the Slytherin common room, all eyes still fixed upon the both of them.
He leaned over the boy, looking in those bright blue orbs, now filled with absolute horror. "I am no mudblood, Abraxas." He hissed, almost snake-like. "I am a true Slytherin, a descendant of the Gaunt Family. Even you must have heard of them."
"The Gaunt family?" Malfoy whispered, yet everyone inside the common room could hear him.
"Yes." Tom replied, still with a dangerous hiss in his voice. "You own me your allegiance."
The look in Malfoy's eyes changed, the confusion and horror made place for disbelieve and fear. Apparently, the blond had figured it out, the lineage form which he descended. "Salazar, that's not possible!"
"Oh, but you know it is." Tom stepped backwards, playing with Malfoy's wand, looking at it, instead of the boy himself. "I believe I need to punish you now for your bad manners and disobedience."
He aimed his wand at the boy, a smile crept upon his face, cruelty in his dark blueish grey eyes. "What was that spell you used on me again? The cruciatus curse? I believe it was." He licked his lips, before casting one of the tree unforgivables. "Crucio!"
Malfoy tossed and turned, his muscles tensed. The boy's whole body trembled. But to his credit Malfoy did not scream, not once. After a few seconds he cut the curse again, looking at the Malfoy heir, lying at his feet, tears streaming down his face.
"Do you like this Abraxas? Being tortured? I can do this all night you know." He stated. He would do this all night, until Malfoy broke, until the elder apologised and begged on his knees for forgiveness. But he would not ask it, Malfoy had to do it all by himself.
"No." The blond whimpered. "Please, stop."
"What did you say? I did not quit catch that." Tom asked friendly, but without the warmth in his voice.
"Please Riddle, stop it." Malfoy repeated. "I beg you."
"Please who?" The cold returned to his voice.
"I...I don't understand." Malfoy whispered confused.
"Still no manners, apparently you have not yet learned your lesson. Crucio." He continued the curse, just for another few seconds. Malfoy knew exactly what he wanted to hear. The blond was no fool.
The elder boy's body jerked, every muscle in his body strained to the maximum. And for the first time a sound came over those pale lips. "Please." Tom could barely hear him. "Please, My lord!"
At that Tom smirked. He stopped the curse immediately. "Now that was not so hard, was it Abraxas?"
"No." The Malfoy heir said, still trembling, pulling his legs up.
"No who?" Tom demanded.
"No, my lord." Malfoy replied.
"Now that's a good boy." He gave the other a smile, more dazzling than any he had ever given anyone, but his eyes still held the hatred. "Are you prepared to serve me, Abraxas?" He held out the boy's wand
"I am, my lord." Malfoy took his wand, after which he got up from the cold floor and straightened his back.
"Next time, this will not be that easy, understood?" Tom asked.
"Yes, My Lord. Please accept my apologies." Malfoy bowed his head just slightly.
"Apologies accepted." He patted Malfoy on the head, like he would with a pet. Then he turned to look at the others. "Is there anyone else who wants to challenge my authority?"
Silence reigned the common room. No one dared to look at him, afraid of what he would do. But they were safe, for now at least. He was still too angry with Malfoy; the boy's punishment was not yet over. Tom knew he was pretty vengeful, but he would pay Malfoy back for everything the boy had done, even the smallest of things, like letting his breakfast explode, or pushing his books of the table. Malfoy would pay.
The memory faded away, and everything returned to the dull grey. Tom looked at Harry, who was standing a couple of feet away. The boy looked at him with absolute horror. Perhaps showing that last part was not such a good idea. But there was no use in hiding who he was, not from Harry at least.
"We're nothing alike, you and I." Harry said softly. "You're a monster. You were a monster at eleven and you're a monster now."
"A monster? Because I paid Abraxas back for what he did to me?" He asked, without a hint of remorse. "It is not so different from what you are doing, you just hide behind you infinite hero-complex."
"How is it the same? You just hurt people, because you feel like it! Because it helps you to gain whatever it is you want! I do what I must in order to protect the people I love. We'll never be the same." Harry looked anything but happy. But the boy had to understand how things worked in Slytherin, rather sooner than later.
"If I had not done that, Abraxas would have made me into a slave for him. I would have been no better than a house-elf." Tom stated.
"A house-elf is way better than what you're now, Riddle." Harry hissed. "You don't understand what I'm going through, not at all!"
"Oh no?" He stepped closer to the boy, fixing his gaze upon those killing curse green eyes. "People are always looking at you, expecting the best. They watch you like a hawk watching its prey. You cannot make one mistake, because they will be on you like vultures. The whispers behind your back are the worst, they follow you wherever you go. And all the while, you wish you are nothing more than an ordinary boy, because then you would be able to just live your life. You are just a child, bearing to much responsibilities, unable to slip up once, because of the dire consequences."
The look on Harry's face slowly changed. The anger was still there, but subdued now. Tom felt a mixture of feelings, understanding, hurt, loneliness.
"I know how it feels Harry." He said, softer now. "The only difference is that I used it to my advantage. I became the protégée they wanted, until I got what I wanted."
He stepped even closer yet, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. He did not like to touch others, or to be touched by others, but with Harry it felt somehow natural, like he needed to do this. "They do not deserve people like you and I. You know why not? Because they left you to yourself, to give you a 'normal' childhood. They left you with muggles for years, while there was, and probably still is, a power underneath your skin, eager to come out. And when it does come out, strange things happen, things you could not possibly understand, because there was no one there to tell you what was going on. For years people labelled you a freak. You got bullied, because you were different, and there was nothing you could do about it. Even the ones that were responsible to take care of you, treated you different, feeling the strange sensation of your magic. And then one day an old man comes around, telling you that you are a wizard, made to do so much good in the world, destined for something greater."
Tom didn't notice his voice had gotten louder with each word he spoke, anger filling him. "For the first time in your life you are surrounded by people just like you, for the first time you feel at home. But even that feeling does not last. Soon you realize you are even different from those people, you are still a freak in this world as well. Because you are stronger, your magical potential is greater."
Harry was remarkably quiet. The boy just stared at him, a turmoil of emotions passing through those beautiful eyes. Tom did not stop, not even when he saw a tear in the corner of Harry's eye.
"You draw to much attention to yourself, people are able to pick you out of a crowd to easily. They drive you into a corner, where even your friends can not reach you. They do not understand how you are feeling, no one does. They drive you into solitude, there is no place you are save except for the dark recesses of your mind. Insanity is right behind the corner, but you do not want to reach it, out of hope that one day you would get the rest you want and deserve. But you know all too well that you well never find that peace, until you are either dead or your 'enemies' are defeated."
His hand slipped from Harry's shoulder, for a moment he closed his eyes. "I know perfectly well how you feel. I might not be the boy who lived, but I got my fair share of attention, too much expectations. I chose to live my life differently, to live according to my own expectations."
The boy was trembling, he could hear Harry's heart pound even from where he was standing. Perhaps it was better if he left it at this, there was no use in breaking the golden boy into pieces.
"You could have chosen not to attract so much attentions." The boy whispered. "You had that choice, I did not."
"If it comes to powerful people, there is no choice, sooner or later they will find you. Lesser people are attracted to us like moths to a flame. Even if you weren't 'The boy who lived', you still would have been in the centre of attention. That is the fate of all people, whom are born with power. You cannot outrun fate forever."
"But why did you use your powers for evil? You could have helped people." The boy was so naïve. But he would teach Harry how the world worked, one step at a time.
"Why would I help people, who did not help me? I do not see the use in 'being the better man', if they treat me like I am nothing. An eye for an eye. If they pester me, I will repay the favour." He said patiently. "If someone does not show respect for me and for my live, I will not show any respect for theirs. There is no good and evil, only what people want to see, and cannot see."
"You've killed my parent's, that's evil!" Harry found his anger again, yelling hard now.
"Everyone is afraid of something Harry. I am afraid of dying, but yet they want to kill me. What I did was protect myself." He was pretty sure Harry would not understand this. "If one of your friends was about to die, and the only way to save them, was by killing someone else, would you?"
"Of course I would!" Harry said.
"So, killing someone to save another is good?" Tom asked, looking straight at the boy once more.
"I..." Harry looked back at him, sensing the trap. "There is a difference."
"Is there?" He asked. "So, it is all right for you to kill someone, in order to save one of your friends, but it is evil if I kill someone to save myself? I do not see the difference, besides the obvious hero-complex involved in your situation."
"You killed my parents because you wanted to kill me! I was just an infant!" The boy was back to yelling.
"Oh." He smiled slightly. "Dumbledore did not tell you, now did he?"
"Tell me what." The Gryffindor crossed his arms.
"About the prophecy. Maybe you should ask him about that first, see how your mentor lies to you in order to use you in whatever way he wants to." This was the perfect way to break Harry away from the lord of the light. How more Harry trusted him, how more power he gained. "There was a reason my older self wanted to kill you. I would think twice about trying it again, but I am saner then he is."
"What prophecy?" Doubt was settling in Harry's mind, Tom could feel it.
"Ask Dumbledore, I am sure he would love to enlighten you." He smiled. "When you know, we will continue this conversation. Maybe then you will see that we are not so different after all."
Harry looked at him a little while longer, before he disappeared, leaving him in the darkness of his prison once more.
But Tom knew he had achieved something today. With or without realising it, Harry was starting to trust him. They had a lot in common, even the boy could see that. And he was probably the only one that could understand Harry. There were not a lot of people out there with the same background, the same power. Sooner or later his little puppet would come back to talk to him. Tom had this strong feeling it would not take long.