Whitstable beach, 1937

An excursion to the beach during the summer months isn't all that unusual, it occupies the children for the day and keeps the staff from getting too cranky as they get something to look forward to as the year goes by. Tom loved going to the beach because it was peaceful and too big for the other children to find him quickly and bother him. Ailill on the other hand hated the beach, it was cold, windy and sand always got where it's not welcome, if he had his choice he wouldn't step foot in the sand. The only reason he was even here is because he knows Tom adores the trip, curse him and his sad boy backstory, making Ailill feel pity for him, disgusting.

Instead of sitting on the distasteful sand this year around Tom wanted to explore the caves nearby which to the other boy was unarguably better than sand so he agreed to go with him. The beach led off to trailing high cliffs that the sea bashed against in a rhythmic manner, both soothing and unnerving in its unassuming nature. Tom poked around a few small alcoves as Ailill trialed behind absentmindedly. He only picked up his pace when he could hear Tom call for him from inside a decently larger cave. It was an eerie sight that met Ailill's eyes, he was standing at the edge looking out onto the sea, so vast that whiskey eyes couldn't make out the distant banks of land beyond. Tom was in a cavern so high that the ceiling was out of sight only inky darkness shrouding the area. A misty greenish light shone far away in what looked like the middle of the lake from within the cave; it was reflected in the completely still water below. It was truly a wonder of nature, far more beautiful than the beach. Ailill made his way until he was right beside Tom then reached out and broke some of the stalactites, he poured magic into the little icicle preventing it from melting and adding a soft glow. Tom looked at it enviously so Ailill broke off another piece and placed it in the boy's hands, softly urging him to focus and manifest what he wanted to happen. It would have been hard for any other children but this is Tom Riddle, nothing was too complicated for him. Once he succeeded Tom looked at the one who encouraged him with a preening smile, eyes shining with expectant praise. Ailill leaned down until his face was level with Tom's who leaned in closer, Ailill raised his hand and tugged on the boy's ear lobe softly.

"Ah~ what an amazing job, Tom. You picked it up so quickly."

Tom sniffed haughtily but couldn't hide how pleased he was to hear those words.

"Of course," the younger boy said. "I am the best after all."

"Indeed you are."

The two explored the care for a bit finding smooth stones, little critters, and some uninteresting moss but they were rudely interrupted by the pests of the orphanage, the literal scum of the litter, Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop. Amy was plain-looking with an ego far too large for her IQ, she had mousy features and rat-like tendencies. Dennis had the backbone of a worm, following others like a lost sheep and naive enough to do their dirty work. The two were standing a few feet in from the mouth of the cave, clearly after following Tom and Ailill. Amy always hated that Tom got the most attention from Ailill, the boy clinging to the eldest like a limpet. What was so special about that freak? Tom's patience for others within the orphanage was already stretched thin on the best of days and now these two useless wastes of oxygen show up on his and Ailill's day out?

Such a thing can go unpunished.

The bumbling fools looked around the cavern in interest before their eyes were drawn to the glowing pieces of ice making them bug out of their head. Before they could utter a question Tom was ordering them away.

"Leave."

"Eh?" Amy squawked indignantly. "No way, you don't own the cave, Riddle. And give me the glowing rock, I want to see it." She held her hand out as if actually expecting the boy to give it to her.

"I said leave, Amy, or else."

"Or else what?" Dennis sneered trying to look intimidating, it was so bad Ailill actually snorted in suppressed laughter making the boy glow in embarrassment.

"Or else," Tom trailed off. "I'll make you."

"Oh please, Riddle you're not nearly as half intimidating as you think you are-"

The condescending snark was cut off by a gurgle of choked air that came from Amy's throat. Tom's magic curled in the air heavy and hot like the so told pits of hell, it was offensive and always on the prowl to attack. The girl was clutching at her neck as she struggled to breathe under Tom's dark stare. Dennis was twitching with panic as he watched the girl turn bluer as time went by. Tom dropped her in favour of looking into Dennis' eyes and eliciting a blood-curdling scream from him as he forced the boy to watch horror-like images flash in his mind. He kept it up for a few seconds before dropping him too, effectively bored of them. The two huddled together trying to get a grasp on themselves.

"Y-you," Amy wheezed hoarsely. "You demon! You s-should just die!"

The air stilled as the words hung in the open, Tom wasn't too bothered by the girl's declaration but clearly, it wasn't him she had to worry about. Ailill who had been watching the show from further back with detached interest was suddenly up by the girl crouching beside her, startlingly close. His usually hollow, whiskey coloured eyes were alight with a fury unknown to the children.

"Die you say," he whispered as if it was a secret for only them. "Why don't you join him then?"

Time seemed to pause before Amy let out a howl of absolute agony mixed with terror. There where her arm used to be was a bloody stump, skin shredded beyond repair and bone as jagged as glass. Tears ran down the girl's face from pain or panic Tom didn't know. Dennis beside her went green before throwing up to the side of him, face clammy in fright and eyes shaking in fear. In contrast to Tom's magic, Ailill's was burning not from heat but cold. It was indifferent in nature, idly hovering around but comforting should it recognise you as a friend instead of foe. Tom didn't know what the feeling was but watching Ailill be so cruel and for him, for Tom lit a fire in his stomach and caused his heart to beat wildly in his chest. He couldn't keep his eyes off the boy who created such violence in his name, he was magnificent.

"My arm!" Amy wailed like a banshee. "My arm!"

"Aww," Ailill simpered in faux sadness. "You don't like my gift?"

The girl rapidly shook her head, face an ugly splotchy red. Ailill hummed in a non-committal tone before rising to his full height once more, towering over the other two children.

"That's a shame," he said, not sounding put out at all. "I suppose I could give it back."

At that three pairs of eyes looked at him in disbelief. Amy was begging for the return of her arm and Dennis was starting to look faint. Tom's eyes were more interested in how he planned to do that, the girl's whole arm was mangled and it didn't seem to be an illusion but a physical wound. So how was Ailill going to just fix it?

Ailill smiled sinisterly at Amy, "Apologise."

"What?" she bumbled

"Apologise," he said. "to Tom. Say you're sorry."

Amy looked bitter at the thought of saying those words but her arm was clearly more important than her pride.

"Sorry, Riddle."

Ailill looked to Tom to see if he'd accept the apology. Normally Tom would make the person suffer more but he just really wanted to see how Ailill was going to fix the girl's arm. After receiving the nod of acceptance Ailill just snapped his fingers, the sound ringing and echoing three times before a flash and suddenly the arm was whole once more. Seeing her arm Amy hauled herself to her feet and bolted out the cave without another word, Dennis not too far behind. Now that the two were gone, Tom sauntered his way over to Ailill and wrapped his arms around the boy's waist, and laid his head on his shoulder. Their magic intertwined complementing each other and weaving bonds stronger than steel. Ailill was tense for a few moments but relaxed in the hold eventually lifting his own arms up to encircle Tom.

"I didn't know you could do that." Tom said his lips against the other boy's neck, a sign of trust that he let Tom so near to such a vulnerable area.

"Hm," Ailill hummed. "I don't do it often cause it makes me tired." true to his word Ailill's eyes were heavy with the urge to sleep, head dipping every so often.

Tom considered the other boy carefully, he had never seen such ferociousness from him before and now that he has he doesn't think he'll ever want to stop. Ailill is so animated when upset, it reassures Tom that he's here beside him and not off in a place he can't reach. Figuring that they've had enough adventure for one day, Tom leads Ailill out of the cave and back to the beach where they sat in the warm sand, much to one of their displeasure, and leaned against one another. Ailill drifted off into a nap as Tom tracked the occupants of the beach, his icy eyes scaring the shit out of others even if he looked adorable being the teddy bear for another child.

The night started to set in and the matron herded the children back to the dingy bus they arrived on. Tom gently shook Ailill awake much to his annoyance, the two sat side by side on the bus, one staring out the window and the other drifting in and out of sleep. Once back at the orphanage Ailill headed straight to bed not even giving it a second thought, he was exhausted. Tom helped him change clothes and then changed himself before crawling close to Ailill for sleep. The two slept soundly unlike some others who dreamed of missing arms and horrifying images, the stuff of nightmare created by the two hellspawn only a few doors down.

Months drifted by like water, steady and rarely disturbed. Amy and Dennis never spoke about what they saw that day despite the bribes, threats, or consoling they were subjected to. They kept their mouths shut and never made direct eye contact with the two boys that lived within their nightmares.

The year 1938 crept in and with it the anxiety of war, the Germans had been rather active in their military rearmament and seemed to be buzzing with untold intentions. The prime minister had been adamant in his words, stating reassurances and hoping his policy of appeasement would stop Hitler from kick-starting another world war. Tom noticed Ailill had been rather somber as the years went by as if waiting for a huge bomb to drop and accept his fate. The boy went to work every day instead of attending school as Tom did, when the younger boy came home he'd teach anything Ailill wanted to know but it seemed like the oldest already seemed to know everything much to Tom irritation, he'd like to be able to teach the other boy some stuff for once.

Spring went by and summer started to set in, with this meant more children around and more free time. The children within the orphanage seemed to have given up bothering Tom Riddle over the years, not finding half as amusing as he used to be. All the boy did was wait in his room reading, starting out the window hoping to see Ailill stroll up the pathway to the building they lived in. The two were as close as ever, glued to the other's side like magnets, wrapped up only in their world, the outside disinteresting to cold eyes.

As summer progressed Ailill was out more because the longer days meant more opportunities for prey subsequently meaning more freebies. Both Tom and Ailill had aged a small bit, growing into the starting figures of pre-teens. Ailill had made an off-hand comment once in front of everyone in the orphanage that Tom and himself were the kind of people who were like wine, the older they get, they get finer. No one could really argue with him, Tom was growing to be a darkly handsome young man with brooding features that only brightened for one person and he was sprouting up, height still below Ailill but on its way. Ailill was maturing to be a real eye-catcher, more so than even as a younger child. His hair remained long and voluminous, looking shiny and healthy to all. His eyes while unnerving were enchanting to look into, to see if you lit a spark of interest in amber whisky irises. No one but Tom however seemed to do that. His figure was slender but with dancer-like muscle, coiled tight and perfect for parkour and aerial maneuvers. He was tall and willowy fairly like a woman would be but from the looks of it, his shoulder would be the thing to give away his sex.

Tom stuck to wearing traditional sweaters and slacks occasionally picking out some blazers when Ailill would take him out to buy some clothes, all looked dashing on the young boy of course. But Ailill didn't care what he picked up, if it was pretty he bought it, it didn't matter if it was a girl's skirt or a woman's blouse. He liked it, he wore it. Tom was worried for him, afraid he'd get hate crimed but then remembered Ailill was a goddamn menace to all and strong enough to make anyone pay for attempting to hurt him. The first time Tom saw him in a skirt he choked and became so red Ailill actually worried for him, after many assurances that he was okay the boy finally left it alone but the image of the Ailill in a skirt played through his mind for months on end.

Mrs Cole was starting to get on Ailill's back about going to school, something about the government becoming more active in the whereabouts of children in orphanages. Sounded sketchy. As Ailill was out for the day in the middle of August poking around the streets looking for someone to indulge him, Tom was sitting in his room basking in the sun and reading when he could hear voices below. It was the gritting voice of Mrs Cole and one Tom had never heard before. He didn't think much of it, new people were always coming into the orphanage whether they were government officials or prospective parents. It didn't matter to the boy. It only really gained his attention when the voices started to head in seemingly his direction.

"I'm telling you, he's a bit...off." Mrs Cole said. "He's like the other only more volatile, especially when Ailill isn't here."

"Ailill?" the other voice questioned curiously.

"Yes, another boy we have. Him and Tom are as thick as thieves, always together when Ailill isn't out and about." Mrs Cole sounded very close now, outside the door Tom thought.

A knock was heard before the matron pushed open the door to see Tom sitting on his bed the picture of innocence with his book open. Tom looked practically angelic, all cherubic faced and wide eyes. The man with the matron was of decent age, enough to see the effects of time wear on his body. The salt that peppered his ginger hair and the deep crows' lines near his eyes. He wore a well-made suit, three pieces and clearly costly. He looked at Tom with a twinkle in blue eyes that made him uncomfortable.

"Tom," Mrs Cole spoke. "You have a visitor, this is Albus Dumbledore, he's come to speak with you. I'll leave you two to talk." She shot Tom a sharp look. "Be good."

The two looked at each other for a moment as the woman left the room closing the door behind her. Coming out of his thoughts, Dumbledore moved his way into the room and took a seat on the rickety chair near the desk. The eyes that made him want to squirm took in everything that the room had to offer. The haggard bookcase with even more haggard books, the small one-person desk and chair that the strange man was currently occupying, the small cots, one with bedding folded and neatly put to the side and the other with a mess of sheets and creased covers, and finally the cubby that hoarded Tom's stolen items and Ailill's generous donations from wealthy people.

Dumbledore looked curiously at the possessions clearly belonging to another. His eyes turned back to Tom Riddle who never took his eyes off him. The gleam in the blue irises unnerved the older man, the child seemed somewhat unhinged despite his well put together image.

"Do you know why I'm here, Tom?" Dumbledore asked.

"You're actually a shrink aren't you?" Tom asked in reply. "Here to take me away to a madhouse."

"No, I'm a professor."

"I don't believe you, she wants me looked at." His eyes dazed for a moment. "They think I'm different."

"Well, perhaps they're right," Dumbledore said.

"I'm not mad."

"Hogwarts is not a place for mad people. It's a place for schooling young boys and girls with magic." Dumbledore paused as Tom stared at him with intense eyes. "You can do things can't you Tom? Things other children can't."

"I knew we were different... I knew we were special. Always, I knew there was something."

"We?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Yes, you're here for Ailill too, right? He is even better at this magic than me. I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to. I can do all that but he can do more. He's amazing."

"I'm like you tom, different." Dumbledore said

"Prove it." Tom said warily.

Holding eye contact with the boy, Dumbledore set the cubby a light with fire causing Tom's eyes to become lit up with greedy interest.

"I think there's something in your closet trying to get out, Tom."

Hearing those words Tom's face filled with dread and anxiety catching Dumbledore off guard.

"Please! Stop burning it, please."

He didn't think the boy would be this upset by him making the boy return the stolen items. He stopped the charm and Tom sighed in relief. Seeing the imploring blue eyes looking at him, the boy reluctantly spoke,

"Ailill's stuff is in there. The things he gets from working, he's been working really hard the past few months and I don't want his effort to be ruined."

"This Ailill," the old man started, "you said he can do magic too?"

"Yes, Ailill's always been better at controlling it than me, he helped me reign it in. He's stronger than me too."

"I see, and when is this Ailill coming back?"

"Can't say," Tom shrugged. "Sometimes he's back early other times he's out all night."

"Well, either way, you must return the items you have stolen back to their rightful owners Tom. Hogwarts has a no thievery policy and will not stand for it. You must return them before the school term, and should you not, I have ways of knowing."

Tom kept his face deceptively blank but on the inside, he raged. Those things were taken with a rightful reason! Those beasts in the orphanage were annoying him and trying to hurt him again, they deserved what they got.

"Sir," Tom asked. "I can also speak to snakes, is that normal for someone like me?"

Dumbledore looked wary at the information, "No Tom, not really."

Tom looked partially upset at that news, he was hoping someone would share his gift. Doesn't really matter too though, there's a whole other world of people like him and Ailill! The world they should be a part of but they're instead stuck here, in a goddamn orphanage.

"Since I have magic, it means one of my parents must have had it too. It couldn't be my mother, she died at giving birth. Do you know of any Riddles, sir?"

"I can't say I do my boy."

"Oh."

"Now," Dumbledore changed the subject. "About your funds for school and where to get your stuff. You must visit Dia-"

The professor was cut off by the banging of the bedroom door opening and there in the doorway stood Ailill. A very bloody looking Ailill with a bag in his hand and a devious smirk on his lips,

"Hey doll, who's the old man?"