Wow... ok- so it has been a LONGG time since I have updated, and I shall now begin my useless excuses.

1. I began to watch two Anime's- Demon Slayer, and Black butler! I AM NOW OBSESSED.

2. -ok, I don't have any more reasons.- :DD

ON WITH THE STORY~

~Harry walked down the busy streets of London quite lost on what to do... that is, before he met someone that would change everything.~

Lost in thought, Harry bumped into someone and fell back from the impact. He balanced himself and got up to apologize when he he saw crimson eyes staring into him.

...

Tom Riddle- or really what was left of him sharply turned as he felt a small figure walk into him. He turned to see a boy who could be no older than seven, on the ground. The boy had a delicate figure, and was surprisingly very thin. As the child looked up, he saw startling green orbs peer into him.

"I'm s-sorry sir, I didn't see you there." The boy spoke, looking down at the gravel below him now. At first, the man didn't speak while realization dawned him. A plan was formulating quite fast in the Riddle's mind. "Nonsense. Now, what is a child like yourself doing out here?".

Tom Riddle's plan was simple, yet expected by him to be quite effective. The second he saw those oh so familiar emerald green eyes, and untamed dark hair... it was quite impossible not to realize who the child was; at least for him it wasn't.

How could he not? This boy was the reason for his downfall, and he would make sure he paid dearly. But now was not the time to be worrying about such things.

Harry stared at the man in front of him. He looked to be middle aged, about forty. Maybe a few years more...

It was a most peculiar sight for Harry. Well, it wasn't really everyday in which you see a man with such an unusual eye color, and a purple turban above any head.

"I-I was with my parents here... But I seem to be a bit lost at the moment", Harry lied.

The man just gave a small 'hm' as a response.

"Well, what is your name child?" the man asked.

"Harry... Evans". He didn't necessarily lie, the name Evans was in his bloodline after all- and it wasn't like him to just give off personal information to strange looking people which he didn't know.

"Well then, Mr. Evans, I could escort you to the nearest Police station. Then you could simply dial your mother or father to pick you up. Indeed?"

Harry turned a slight shade of pink. It was obvious from the man's tone that he didn't seem to believe a word he said. But he didn't have any proof.

"I don't know their number" Harry replied in a monotone.

"I see". A smirk tugged at the man's lips.

"Well then, why don't you just come with me? I'm sure we'll all sort this out". Tom Riddle said in a tone which left no room for argument.

Harry knew that he just let the man corner him with not much space to move. Figuratively speaking, of course, but that didn't make it any better.

Harry just gave a curt nod and followed him to wherever he was going, it was the least he could do at this moment.

...

They continued to walk the city streets until the crowd slowly faded away, and the dark rough gravel turned into soft silk-like grass. The air was no longer heavy, but turned into light cool breezes which came every now and then.

'Where exactly are we going?!' Harry thought. His shoulder had started to throb again. Harry wasn't surprised, with all the moving he had been doing, it would be unusual if it didn't hurt.

Unfortunately, the wound wasn't healing like the scrapes he had gotten on his hand earlier had. He assumed that only small injuries tended to heal with magic. Even so, as the blood started to leak through his over sized sweater, it only got more noticeable.

It was only pure luck the man hadn't turned to face him to notice all this. He wanted to escape extra questions anyway. He hadn't noticed that the man was now standing still over what looked like a torn up dusty book.

The sun had started to set and Harry was now on top of a seemingly steep hill with a book in the center.

"Hold on to the book" the man commanded.

"What? Why would I do that..?" Harry responded.

He gave harry a look which was clear in what it meant - or else. Harry sighed and bent down to pick up the book. Once he came up, he suddenly felt very dizzy and stumbled a bit before straightening him self out again.

The man simply gave a questioning glance in which Harry brushed off.

His shoulder now started stinging as well, and Harry was sure this wasn't good sign. 'Maybe it's infected' - Harry thought. As the man grasped the book as well, Harry started to lose focus to what happened around him.

He remembered spinning, so much that he felt nauseous. Then he just fell... Deeper and deeper into darkness which he didn't try and resist.

Tom Riddle had just lured young Harry into using an un-authorized portkey straight to his manor, and he was quite proud with himself. That is, until the child came crashing down unconscious onto the mahogany polished floors.

Riddle noticed blood pooling around his right arm and rushed to see what was wrong. As he removed his arm from his sweater, which was very easy considering how loose it was, he saw a very deep gash, most likely done by some sort of knife or dagger.

He should know, he was very experienced when it came to the topic of blood or murder. Tom Riddle clicked his tongue, as he cleaned up and patched the wound with a flourish of his wand.

He then continued to conjure up a stretcher in which he placed Harry in.

...

There was many things his manor was famous for- it's elegant design, the strange disappearance of anyone who decided to attack or infiltrate it, the un-mistaken smell of blood on some days.

And many other things in which Tom Riddle took great pride in. But never, had there been anything close to a hospital wing. The Riddle had just never needed it, considering his own stretch of powers.

So he was in a conundrum of where to take him to. Not his room, oh heavens no. There were far too many precious things that he could risk of being touched, or at most found out about. No, Harry would need his own room. Not that it was a problem for him, no. His manor had much too many unused rooms to count, so he would just put Harry in one.

One which was closest to his room of course. He would need to keep an eye on the young Potter. So he gracefully swept across the large stair case of the Riddle Manor, walking to a specific room in his mind.

He ended up picking one which was right across from his his, in one of the main hallways a few floors up. It wasn't small for his standard, quite spacious actually. There was a four poster bed in the center with a green and silver silk draping above it. Beside that was a wooden bed-side table, and a walk in closet right ahead of it.

The room was actually built to match the elegance and design of the Victorian era's, much to Tom's liking's. He carefully laid Harry down on the large bed and snapped for an elf to come.

Not a few moments later, a poorly dressed elf popped up in front of him bowing so low, that his long crooked nose grazed the floor. "What can Dillo do for Master Riddle?" The elf spoke in a very high pitched voice.

"Tend to the boy's injuries and make sure he does not wake" Tom commanded the creature, an air of authority around him. "Of course Master Riddle" The elf answered bowing once again.

Tom Left the room and walked over to his own which wasn't very far away. The day wasn't going exactly how he would have liked. The Riddle had originally planned to bring Harry to his manor and modify his memories.

The prophecy echo'd in Tom's ears as he sat down on a chair in front of his room's fire place.

~The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches~

Tom Let out a sigh. Just a room across him was the one with this sort of power. He reminisced the picture of Harry lying on the bed, looking as if he had no care in the world. "So vulnerable", the man muttered under his breath.

Tom Riddle sat up rubbing his temples. He knew that he could easily waltz into the room and kill the boy right there and then. But why wouldn't he do it? It wasn't as if it was against his morals of killing children.

He had done so on multiple occasions. But the ones he killed had been muggles, had they not? ... 'Yes, that must be it' - The Riddle thought. 'I won't kill him.. not just yet. And it's not because I care - he is still a magical child - and they should be cherished.' He thought, getting a control on his thoughts.

The Riddle calmed down and sank low in his seat, tired from the long day. He would deal with Potter once he woke up. 'Yes' - He thought satisfied. 'For now, I should get some rest'.

YAYYY! I updated :DDD

Ok, so like I said earlier, sorry for the long wait. I wrote a slightly longer chapter this time. (I don't think it's noticeable).

So I have been having some writers block these past months, but I finally decided to screw it and move on :DDDD

I don't know when I'll be writing my next chapter, but I hope that it's pretty soon!

I'd really appreciate if you could leave a comment, because I really want to improve my writing, and I would really love some tips.

I didn't pick any ships so far in this story, so I guess you could drop that in the comments if you could as well :)

(It doesn't matter if it's a slash, I'm open to all ships!)

BYEE! I hope to update soon!