The dining room held an awkward silence for three tortured minutes; nothing moved it seemed, nothing at all but a fly that rudely buzzed and circled the many platters, unaware of the entire situation it was disturbing. Finally the silence and the fly's wings were broken by a portly looking maid, who, was also unaware of the event in the dining room as she ran up to the edge of the grand table and snatched the wretched creature right out of the air. It buzzed lightly in her half closed fist, but was quieted once she closed it completely. With a look of disgust she wiped the remains of the creature -which was all but a black smudge in her hand- onto the side of her yellow uniform.

Needless to say, the black smudge didn't go well with her otherwise unblemished unit of clothing.

A loud grunt erupted from somewhere near, and Tom turned to the side to see Grandfather's dismayed face. He wasn't looking at his grandson, so Tom knew it wasn't because of him, but he still held his peculiar look. Tom was very curious as to why this was so. Was he dismayed at the maid's sloppy disposal of the fly or was this his reaction to the two unwelcome guests that made quite a scene in his home? Or, perhaps a little bit of both?

The maid in question suddenly seemed to sense the tenseness in the air, and without saying a word she scuttled back to wherever it was that she came from. It was another full minute before someone else made an attempt to speak.

"Umm, Hello, ah, Cecelia...dear, how are y-" Began Grandmother.

But before she could finish her inquiry, Father rose up from his seat, and leaned over the marble table toward the woman, as both hands gripped the edge and whispered, "Cecelia, is that...is that really you, darling?"

The woman smiled thinly and confidently made her way to where the man was standing. Her red heels clicked as she walked. When she got there, the man turned to meet her and finally she leaned into his ear and replied, "It is, Tom. It is."

For a second, and only a second, Tom was sure that he felt a bit of pity for the man. How pathetic he looked as of then! Wide eyed and hanging on from her every word like his life depended on it. And she, she looked like someone teasing a starving dog with a piece of meat. Her tone sounded passionate and longing, but her eyes looked utterly bored. Tom's initial thought of her intrusion, that it leading to someone's eventual demise, echoed in his head as he watched the current scene unfold.

Again, a grunt brought about focus in the otherwise confused atmosphere that was the Riddle dining room. And of course, it came from Grandfather.

"Ugh, would anyone mind explain what in god's name is happening in here? First, there are people at the door -which is rare considering that no one visits us anymore- and secondly, out appears my son's old lover and some child in our dining room! And then, those two are whispering sweet nothings to each other like they were madly in love or something! Someone please! Tell me what's going on!" He roared, while looking expectantly at his son.

The man cleared his throat, and nervously glanced around the room, as if just realizing that his dream was being witnessed by people of reality. "Ah, Father, well isn't it obvious! It's Cecelia! She's come back! Come back to me even though - ah, never mind that, but still, Father, Cecelia has come back, and decided to give me another chance!"

The man gave a loving look toward the woman he called Cecelia, and she was jolted into a response, her stiff composure broken momentarily. "Oh? Oh, oh, yes, yes, that's right. Another chance. Of course. Umm, Tom darling, may we speak for a while..." She said, eyeing the occupants in the room. "In private?"

The one being addressed nodded excitedly, while murmuring 'Of course we can' and 'Anything you wish for' numerous times as he took the woman's slight hand and lead her away to a nearby hallway, which Tom noted was conveniently close to where the two were previously standing.

The rest of the room was again swallowed up by silence. Grandmother and Grandfather both looked at one another several times with varied facial expressions, as if holding up an entire conversation through the subtle body language. And perhaps they were, for they looked quite satisfied once their silent conversations had ended. For a while Tom wondered if his grandparents were somehow 'special' like him, as he reasoned that only people of talent could communicate efficiently without saying a word.

But as the minutes dragged on, he dismissed the idea. Surely, that ability was just some old folks thing...wasn't it? Yet, another thing he had to ask Massak. If only he could find her...

Aside from the apparent communication powers of the elderly, Tom also noticed Richard, who was just standing unusually straight in the same exact place he was in when he first entered. The boy looked so nervous that he looked as if he might faint. And the thought of Richard Crum rigidly falling onto the unforgiving floor nearly caused Tom to brake out in boyish giggles. But, for the sake of conserving the silence in the room, Tom managed to keep quiet. It was very difficult, he concluded. Especially when Crum's face was beginning to display pigment, and a bead of perspiration rolled down his neck.

Finally, after quite some time, the two emerged from their hallway, with one partner looking much more excited than the other. And with the attention of the entire room, the man who was apparently his father happily announced, "Everyone! I have good news! Wonderful, wonderful news! It is confirmed, that, Cecelia and I are to be wed as soon as possible!"

He looked out into the audience, apparently expecting some big outcry of happiness and approval, but instead, a loud chuckle was delivered to him by Grandfather. Rather than happiness or devastation, Grandfather looked utterly amused.

"Oh? Is that so? Well, on that note, why don't I just pull a telephone out of my rear and call up the queen!" He laughed.

"Thomas!" Reprimanded Grandmother sharply.

"Father!" Hissed his son.

With a bemused expression and a soft voice the old man replied, "What? I thought we were sprouting out ridiculous things that will never happen?"

"We were not!" His son retorted.

As if to really confirm this, the Cecelia woman stepped forward. "No, no, we assure you that this announcement is genuine. Although we have agreed upon not having a ceremony, as it would just prove to be unnecessary and troubling. We plan to sign the official papers concerning this agreement tomorrow morning."

"What?" Grandmother screeched. "No ceremony!? It's not a wedding until you have the ceremony! That's the whole point!"

"Mother! This is my life! I have the choice of having or not having a ceremony for my own wedding and we - I mean, I - chose not to have one. And that's that!" Argued her son.

As they argued, Tom felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Was it the food? Was it undercooked or poorly prepared? As he scanned the presented platters and the elegant and amazing food placed upon them, he immediately dismissed the notion. Was it... Was it her? Or Richard? Or the both of them put together, possibly? Whatever it was, it was most defiantly not the food causing his discomfort. That much was certain.

In the middle of the argument, Grandfather cleared his throat and averted their attention to him.

"Oh, well dear me I don't want to be rude, or anything, but can someone either explain why that strange child standing over there is in this house and if not can someone usher him out?"

So I wasn't the only one who noticed Richard standing there... He thought.

As the majority of the occupants in the room were at a loss for words, for they didn't have an explanation for the boy's existence for themselves let alone one for the old man and preceded to make assumptions to compensate, once again Cecelia was the one with all the answers.

"That child is...under my care at the moment. His name is Richard. He is a calm and courteous boy. He won't cause any trouble, I assure you."

Tom instinctively glanced over to his father, and noted the horrified look in his previously overjoyed face. In the same second, the man contorted his face into a tense, but otherwise calm expression. The rest of the occupants, excluding Richard and Cecelia appeared to do the same.

And so it was that the Riddles finished their meal, all while in the company of the two intrusive guests. The boy who was reportedly courteous and calm had devoured anything edible that was presented to him - out of pure politeness of course - with the mannerisms of a wild boar. It was not until his mother, or whoever she was to him, prodded him several times and hissed something inaudible from where Tom was sitting into his ear did the boy stop eating and display halfway decent behavior.

After which, by choice, each person went about leaving the table, with Tom being the first one to go. He made straight for his assigned bedroom, racing up the mountainous stairs, swung open the door and sunk into the bed, exhausted.

As he lay there, the boy couldn't help but fume about most current of events. Not only did he have to put up with the man who most certainly unintentionally fathered him, but now, if all went as announced, he would have to share this living space with that rigid looking woman and worst of all, Richard Crum. In the same manor! Why had fate -or whatever dictates how human lives are lived- decide to free him from the orphanage, only to throw him into a mansion full of people that were equally as terrible and intolerant as the ones who resided in Wool's? Why?

Granted, that technically speaking, not all who lived in Riddle Manor were this way. Tom wasn't sure when he'd decided this, but as late, for one reason or another, Grandmother and Grandfather had become quite tolerable to be around. In fact, he no longer dreaded Grandmother's kisses, and accepted them with only mild discomfort when they came. As for Grandfather, well, most certainly his best feature in Tom's eyes was his ability to poke fun at his son's shortcomings; which were indeed plentiful, as it turned out.

The seven year old's mood was almost improved by the thought of Grandfather not only critiquing his 'father', but also that woman, and Crum on a daily basis about their each and every flaw. Almost. But no, the sad reality was that even if Grandfather amused himself with their presence at their ultimate expense, Tom would still be made miserable by them. And worse yet, he couldn't even use those powers of his, could he? No, no, not with that many witnesses around... None of which would have no qualms about accusing him of making unnatural things occur... Richard was particularly fond of accusations...

Fears, frustrations, and questions whirled recklessly in Tom's head, and only furthered his previous feeling of exhaustion. He felt his eyelids droop, and his breathing relax. It must only be late afternoon, and usually during this time he was reading Grandfather's book, but surely it was obvious that the boy had no energy for any of that. The only thing that Tom Riddle felt worth doing at the time, was sleeping. And within a few seconds after that realization occurred, the boy did exactly that. He slept.

"...I...not...see why...is important.."

"...believe me dar...love you...want...know...boy..."

"For wha..."

And at once, he was awake. Groggily, Tom scanned his surroundings, but saw nothing but pure blackness. If he recalled...the light had been on when he fist came into the room...how long had he been asleep? Unusually, long, apparently. As for the light being off, Tom figured perhaps Grandmother had stumbled upon him sleeping and took the liberty of shutting off the light. He also reasoned that it must be nighttime, as not even a sliver of light made its way from his obscured window.

However, his thoughts on the abundant amount of darkness in his room was cut off by the very reason of why he was awoken in the first place.

"Tom! Please! Stop asking me about this!" Hissed Cecelia's voice.

Tom blinked, and upon realizing how effortlessly he was was eavesdropping on this originally private conversation, he yawed and listened on in the darkness. How thin these walls must be!

"I just want to know, my dear! You know I'll love you regardless! I told you about...her... It's only fair that I at least know one thing about you." Came the softer reply.

"...Just one thing, hmm?" Questioned the woman's guarded voice.

"Yes, yes, of course, just that one thing. It will only remain between you and I, my love. No one else will ever know." Confirmed the man's voice.

A sigh. Most likely from the Cecelia woman. And then came her response: "Well, have it your way then." Another long sigh. "I suppose you wish to know the origin of the boy? Where he came from, and the like?"

"Richard..?" Wondered Tom aloud.

"Wha-? Did you hear that Tom!?" Roared Cecelia. Tom cupped a hand over his mouth, and noted that thin walls didn't always work in his favor.

"No, I did not. Darling, no more distractions. Won't you tell me the reason behind you keeping him? I've already got myself a brat to handle. I don't need any more. And from what I've seen, there isn't any reason for him to be here just because he happens to be under your care. It's not like you're fond of each other. Why don't you just give him back to his mother, or, wherever he came from?"

"Ugh, well I'd love to, but it's not that simple, you see. Mainly because, because, well, after you ran away with that tramp, I, I, sort of went a bit wild with myself I guess. I attended parties, flirted around some, sampled a few promising bachelors. Look, he -Richard- is sort of the result of...a one night thing with this investor's son that my father introduced me to, during a wedding reception for a family member of theirs, or whatever it was I cant even remember...after it was official that you would not soon return to me, he and I had one hell of a night together."

Tom crinkled his nose at that. Although he didn't quite understand just where she was hinting at when she said 'one hell of a night." To him it just seemed as if she were talking about something obscene.

"And, well, I got stuck with the outcome! Turns out, and pay attention because this is the best part, it turns out that the investor's son was already betrothed to some banker's whore! So when I realized what he had left me with, the bastard was long gone... Father tried to track him down, but in the end what could he do? By then, they had already married, and here I was, with some screaming child that no one liked; not even Mother and Father would approach the little beast, we had to hire a nursemaid to do it! Talk about unnecessary expenses!" She fumed.

"Now, now, darling. You know that I can relate. Almost entirely. Although I never saw Tom as a baby -" He began.

"You hush! You said you wanted to hear the boy's tale, so quiet down so I can tell it. The entire bit. This isn't even the worst part."

"Of course my dear of course! Ah, please continue...at your own leisure."

"Hmmph. I will. Anyway, after three weeks of him being in our house, I decided that enough was enough. I simply grabbed the monster while he was asleep, made sure that the car and its driver was ready, and insisted that he take me to the nearest child dumping area. Turns out it was some orphanage, called Sool's, or something like that, and within twenty minutes, I came home a free woman. Mother and Father didn't mind, and in fact approved of my decision to leave him at that orphanage rather than somewhere on the street. And I was free, and for a long while too, until one day, those little useless pricks decided that I should retrieve the boy. Seeing how tremendously terrible my marriage prospects were, they insisted that I pick up their only heir if I didn't want to be cut off from my inheritance. So I did, reluctantly, mind you. And luckily, for me, the day we came back from our other house along the coast, I happened to spot a handsome, but forlorn Tom Riddle gazing out of his window..." She finished.

"And the rest is history." His father's voice warmly completed.

Tom shuddered in disgust. It would seem that horridness ran in the family, wouldn't it? Crum and his mother were one and the same! Even though one was stiff and plastic and the other burly and pigmented, they still shared the family trait of a nasty personality. Though it was possible that the two terrible lovebirds were still clucking, Tom was no longer listening. He sunk into his bed once more, and would have otherwise quickly fallen asleep if not for one glowing cord like creature sliding its way onto the mattress...

"Massak?" Tom whispered ever so quietly, remembering the thin walls.

For a while there was no response. Tom felt his eyes closing.

A heat source found its way to his feet. And then came her response:

"Quiet, Tom. Go on, fall asleep. You're too tired to remember let alone process anything I'd tell you anyway. I'll be with you in the morning, I assure you." She promised.

"But - but, where have you - " He halfway asked. Sleep overtook him before he was able to finish his inquiry. The snake remained at his feet.

As always, feel free to point out any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors. I know this one is a bit short, but I assure you that this tale will be completed, although I will not guarantee that everyone will survive. But later on that. Anyway, thank you to those who didn't lose hope in this Fic. Again, I will finish this within a week or so.

Feel free to leave a review, or if not, thanks for reading anyway. It is currently one A.M. And so I am retiring from the Internet as of now.