Chapter the First: Two Houses
"NO!" A woman screamed as her husband threw her back. Her arms were encircling a small boy. Her lip was bleeding and there was a black eye rising on her face. "I tried to tell you earlier you wouldn't listen!"
"What the Hell do you mean that 'you tried to tell me' we're married for twelve years and I find out now about your condition! As if you weren't so damn useless already Conscia!"
"I. I would. I." She was sobbing and stuttering her gray eyes were washed out and pale. Her arms had let go of the little boy who was now inching away. His eyes were wide and frightened. His whole body was shaking uncontrollably as he tripped over the edge of an old rug."
"You." Said the man turning on the boy. His eyes were blazing and ice as he stared down at the boy who had hidden in a corner. He looked as a man possessed looming over the room and glaring down like a bird of death upon the seven-year-old figure.
"And are you just like her? ARE YOU GOING TO BE LIKE THAT?!" He yelled stabbing his hand at the woman in the corner. "You think you're so much better then me."
"Tom don't!" The woman was starting to drag herself up against the wall. One hand was gripping the wall, the other was held tight on a wooden rod. "Tom I'm warning you get away from him."
"Or what? You'll point that little magic stick at me?" He was jeering at her. That little thing In you're ignorant little hand Conscia?" He was laughing down on her now. He yanked the stick out of her hand." She was sobbing outrageously now and sliding back down the wall."
"giv.v.ve . thaaat back!" She was really sobbing now but there was a fierce determination appearing under her eyes. "Give it back."
"And what will you do with it. Turn me into a toad? Do you think I'm that stupid Conscia?." He was pointing her wand at her, gripping it like a sword aimed at her throat." "I should break this, I should break you."
There was a crash in the hall. The man jerked up and stared at where the boy had been standing.
"I'll kill him, I'll get that little bugger."
"Tom Don't. please don't hurt him." He was fuming there was steam piling out of his ears. "Tom.don't!" He broke the wand in half and threw the pieces at her. "That's all you are! Is a god damn piece of wood!" She flinched when it hit her and stared down at the pieces with blood shot eyes.
The man ran out of the room and into the hallway. He flew down the hall after the boy.
"Tom I won't hurt you, just come out its all ok." He was running through the house room after room throwing open the oak doors of the huge house. "Tom come to your father I'm telling you to!" He threw open the door of the kitchen pantry to find the boy huddled in a corner.
He grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out of the pantry and threw him into the parlor where his mother was still sobbing on the ground.
"You DARE not to come when I tell you!" He was towering over the small form that was spread out on the ground, still trying to crawl away.
"Tom don't," The mother called out weakly as she tried to stand up.
"you stay there!" she fell back to the floor sobbing.
"I have had enough of both of you." This time his hand connected with the boy's face. "You ingrate, you're not worthy of living in the same house as me, of breathing the same air. YOU ARE NOTHING!"
His hand flew again across his face again and again. He kicked, he hit always yelling "You are nothing, I hate you."
The boy lay on the floor tears falling in a river from his eyes but he never made a noise, never spoke a single word in protest. Just lay in a mess of black hair and blood.
"Tomorrow I'll be gone and it will just be you and your miserable mother. I hope you suffer, I hope you crawl back to her family. The Marvolos I hate every single one of you and I hope you all die."
He aimed one last kick at the boy's ribs and a door slammed.
The woman lay on the floor still sobbing there was blood on her face and hand marks across her cheek.
"Never, Never." she sobbed. "We'll never go back. never. I'll never crawl back no." Her hands were shaking as she pulled herself across the room to where the pieces of her wand had fallen. She held them together sobbing and shaking forced the ends of unicorn hair to touch.
"Mum. what is." She was still crying, her tears were pooling up on the floor. Her breath was coming in sharply. The boy was staring at her face. He tried to move towards her but each movement hurt him.
"I. I'm. s.s.sorry tom. I'm sorry."
"Mum."
"I'm so so sorry.I.I Tom I'm sorry."
"Mum!" he was frantic and trying to inch his way to her. His ribs and face hurt every time he tried to get to his feet or even his knees. The large parlor seemed even bigger then normal.
"I can't go back, we can't go back tom." She was staring down vacantly at the ground, her wand gripped into her hands with her knuckles turning white. She was pointing it at herself.
"Mummy!"
"A. Aveda."
"MUM!" She was growing eerily calm and stared at Tom across the room. Her eyes were full of pain as she looked across the room.
"You'll be better then that. You are already better then him. don't you dare let anyone compare you to him. Don't you dare."
"MUM!"
"I'm sorry Tom. so sorry."
"Mum what are you doing, mummy I love you mum I. I."
"AVEDA KEDAVA!"
A flash of terrible green light filled the room.
***
Tom Marvolo Riddle sat straight up panting in the night. His eyes looked franticly around the room expecting to see his mother's body, or worse his father.
His eyes were met only be the dismal sight of a crampt room and too many bodies laying on beds little better then cots. Tom stared around at the old wool blankets and peeling green paint on the walls. There were two small windows on opposite ends of the room and they each had three bars horizontal and three vertical bars. They made the same nine square grid pattern that Tom had spent the last four years of his life staring out of.
He looked at the others sleeping around them. Most had been here far longer then he had, most of them didn't have scars like he did. Their parents had all died in the normal fashion, a few were war orphans but none had a story like his. No one in the orphanage was like him.
He ran his hands through his hair and tried to lie back down onto his bed. Every sound pulled him back up, but he was not afraid, he hadn't been afraid for a long time. Now he was just waiting for something to happen. He had always considered himself a patient person but it was getting late and it was time for him to leave.
Knowing that he wouldn't sleep that night Tom crept down the old wood stairs of Mannford House and into a narrow hallway that lead to the old ballrooms and parlors that had been divided with temporary walls into classrooms.
He crept silently into the furthest one from the stairs where after latching the door he collapsed against it. The room was cramped and too many desks were crowded into too small of a space. There were no windows in this room, and the only glimpse of the outside was a broken globe and an outdated map, which still depicted Prussia, and Austria-Hungary.
Tom turned on the singular light that dangled from ceiling. It sent a circle of harsh light down upon the old crooked and graffiti covered desks.
Tom looked around the room but there was nothing to distinguish it from any of the other rooms in the Mannford House orphanage that he resided in. Not that there was anything to distinguish this house from any of the others that dotted the country.
He pulled an old envelope from the pocket of his pajamas. It was creased and worn after too many times opening and closing the folds. Tom hated the letter more then anything else in the orphanage. He hated it with every deep recess of his being and every thought in his mind. He hated it because it was why he was here It was why his mother was dead and why he stifled every day.
To the temporary guardian of Mr. Tom Marvolo Riddle
My Client wishes to inform you that he his relinquishing all rights as the parent and legal guardian as the above mentioned into your care. After the death of his wife Mr. Riddle feels that he is unable to care for his son. He is willing to sign all appropriate documents and will not oppose any placement that you see fit.
Mr. Riddle also requests that he is not contacted again on behalf of his son in any way. He will be joining the army and chooses to leave his son permanently in the power of the state.
Marlin and Finch Partners in Law
The words were starkly legal and formal but since the moment Tom had first read it he knew what the letter really said; 'Your father hates you, he's turned you away to anyone who will take you, and he never wants to see you again'
He hadn't seen his father since that night, that haunted his dreams over and over again; and in some ways he hoped that he would never see him again. More often though he wanted to see his father lying on the floor begging for mercy. Helpless like his mother just before.
His eyes closed to fight back the tears that threatened to spill over onto his face. He would not cry. No one saw him like that, he didn't have anything to cry over, and he was strong. One day he wouldn't have any of this. He would be alone. He would be far away from here. His mother always told him that. He knew he was better then this place.
Tom heard a noise from above him in the dormitories. He turned off the light and slunk to the door. Pressing his ear against the wood he listened to see who else was prowling the school at night, but the old house had gone silent again and there was nothing left but to sneak back up to the dormitory.
He lay down with the letter still in his pocket; he never left it out of sight it was a constant reminder of who he was and where he came from, and he would never let it go. He lay down to wait for the sun still unable to sleep.
The morning dawned cold and gray Tom was dressed and at the window before even the earliest of risers was stirring. He stared out past the small lawn and surrounding cold metal fences to the village beyond
It was just like the village that he had grown up in, except the old red brick Riddle house was missing from its place towering over the landscape.
"Tom what are you doing awake?" The speaker was a middle-aged man with a brown beard and hair in need of a trim. He had just come in to wake the other kids who had begun to move restlessly in their beds. He was the overworked sort and always looked worried about something. He had a tendency to go up and down in weight quickly depending on the type of stress he was under. Now he was looking exasperated and annoyed. "Tom I asked you a question."
"I wasn't tired, I woke up. Is that so hard to understand?"
"Fine." He was still glaring at Tom though as he said it. As if being awake was a malicious evil trick Tom was playing on him. Tom saw this and capitalized on it.
"I heard you walking around last night sir." The caretaker turned and stepped back towards Tom, he towered more then a foot above Tom and glared down at him with a menacing brown-eyed stare.
"I wasn't up last night; and if I find out that you were, I will have your head."
"Right." Tom didn't show any emotion as he spoke, but this seemed to push the caretaker even more.
"Tom you are neither high nor mighty and I don't care what you claim that you heard."
"Fine."
"Oh. and you're on dish duty today."
"I was last week."
"I don't make the schedule and you're name is on it, have fun." He was defensive now and looking for an excuse to flee the room away from Tom.
"I really don't give a damn how much my name shows up on your schedule." Now Tom wasn't even looking at the caretaker, and his words were muted as if spoken to the floor.
"Watch it tom." Tom raised his head to look directly into the caretaker's eyes.
"I always do."
It was an idle game Tom played with the caretakers and he knew it, but it always kept them on their toes when he talked to them, especially the headmaster, Sir William Campford. He thought that his title made him so much better then everyone else, that just because of that he would always be better then everyone else. Well he would learn that he's not better then everyone.
Tom smiled to himself it was already the middle of August and he knew that he would be leaving soon enough so it didn't matter who hated him.
He didn't even mind dishwashing or whatever other chores they came up with for him to do when he was being 'cheeky' or 'disrespectful' he knew that all the teachers hated him and the caregivers would like to see him run away and no be found, but it didn't matter.
He did have a knack for making friends that he found important at the time. The kitchen women all loved him; they gave him treats and called him a 'fine young man' One of them even took them home for a 'real dinner'. It was funny if you think about it, most of the boys distained the kitchen, but Tom knew better then that.
They were the same boys that always complained because they never got what they enough to eat or wanted more desert at supper. Tom always got what he wanted though no matter how much they were lectured on rations and sharing due to the war. There was a way around all rules.
He walked into the near empty cafeteria and shot a brilliant smile at the serving woman at the long tray of food.
"Good morning Mrs. Davis, and how is your cat boots? I loved the picture you showed me last week." The plump graying blonde lady smiled back cheerfully at Tom as he spoke.
"How lovely of you to ask Tom, he's quite well. He even caught that mouse that had been getting into the flour." She smiled as she dumped sausage after sausage onto Tom's plate. "But what about you Tom? How did that Maths test go, you were so worried about?"
"I had to study all the time, and I barely got any sleep for the last week." All of a sudden tom looked very tired and drawn as he looked down at the floor."
"Oh you poor dear. I always knew that they were expecting too much of the lot of you, its already so hard being stuck here and then the unrealistic amounts of work they make you do. It just disgusts me."
"Don't say that Mrs. Davis it's not half as bad as you think." Tom broke off in a yawn. "I hardly had anything else to do."
"Look at you you're a wreck, yawning and its only seven in the morning, I ought to have a word with those teachers of yours."
"Don't do that, I'm fine really and I'll see you later today when I have dishwashing and you can see how well I am."
"Dishes again?" She thrust her giant spoon back into the bowl of porridge in front of her. "You were here last week working, no wonder that you never get enough sleep. Don't you worry about chores today. You will be taking a nap, or face the consequences." Her spoon was now pointed at Tom. Tom threw his hands up in response.
"I guess I have no choice." He said smiling.
"Nope you don't."
Tom turned away from the cafeteria line to find that the room had begun to fill up with sleepy faces in old clothes, a few looked like they were only sleepwalking into the room. Tom found the sight distasteful even though he saw it every day.
A group of eleven and twelve year olds had entered the room as Tom finished talking to Mrs. Davis and were now eyeing him
"Tom is flirting with the lunch ladies again, how does he do that. He gets everyone who doesn't matter to like him, and everyone who does matter thinks he's a prick." A tall blonde boy was smiling and laughing. Tom stood directly in front of him and tilted his head slightly to look into the boy's pale blue eyes.
"Everyone matters, Franklin if you don't believe that then you are going to be sorely lost in this world." Tom smiled as he did so he seemed to grow taller then Franklin as he spoke.
"And what people like you will be in charge? Don't get me wrong Riddle, you're smart but you're stuck in the same bloody orphanage as the rest of us in the middle of a god damn war, you'll be lucky if they take you as a soldier when you turn eighteen."
Tom laughed.
"You honestly believe that the war will go on that long, eventually wars like this will cease to be important."
"Yeah sure Riddle." The boy was laughing now. "You're a psychic right? Or a master of Military strategy? I hardly think that you would even know who's fighting on either side." The whole group was laughing now.
A bell started to ring in the same 'ding dong dong gong' pattern that it did every day. Tom pulled his books and notebooks off the table.
"This has been a really great chat boys but I have Maths now, and I didn't sleep well last night so I would like to continue my sleep."
Tom walked down the hallway towards his first class. A few more boys disappeared every day, all eighteen, all joining the army. The halls were littered with propaganda posters and paint peeling around them.
He walked towards his class among the peeling faces of Winston Churchill and the royal air force. He didn't blame all the boys who ran off on their birthday, he was more then willing to do the same thing, anything to leave here.
Tom walked into the cramped room and immediately sat in the back. The chair next to his creaked whenever the person in it moved. Tom sank into the stupor that usually accompanied these lessons. He was sick of waiting for the letter to come, he wanted to leave now.
The lesson crept on like a snail with a broken leg, and Tom remembered none of it. He didn't sleep either and was more frustrated at every squeak and ever scratch of the chairs against the floor.
It was getting ridiculous to be here. Tom was starting to get a little worried though; his letter should be coming soon. It would be coming; there was no doubt about that. He had enough experience with magic when he was with his mother to know that he wasn't a squib.
The bell rang again and Tom stood up from his desk. He began to trudge down the hall. He was tired and knew that he should have slept last night.
"Mr. Riddle I need you in my office please." The headmaster appeared behind him. "I've receive a letter about you and I feel it would be best to discuss it in my office with the senior board."
"What letter are you talking about?" Tom's heart skipped a beat, finally the letter had come he would be out of here.
"We'll discuss that in my office Mr. Riddle, please follow me."
"I want to know what this is about." Tom stopped caring for even the most common courtesies; he would be gone at the end of the month.
Just come with me Mr. Riddle." Tom followed the headmaster down the hall, and into the one non-cramped room of the building. Sir Campford's study was an old world den of mahogany and oriental carpets. Sir Campford still thought that imperial Britain still existed and that instead of being the headmaster of a children's home he was a big game hunter in Kenya.
Tom entered the room, he had never seen it before, but it represented everything he hated about the orphanage and Sir Campford. While their classrooms were full of peeling paint and outdated maps he had his own plush study.
Most of the faces in the room were wrinkled and drawn, few he had ever seen before. A couple looked like they were practically asleep. Tom sat down in the chair that the headmaster gestured to.
"Mr. Riddle we have received a most interesting letter about you, and I have called these people here to discuss it." The headmaster was holding an envelope of parchment paper in his hand as he sat behind his desk.
"I still don't know what you are talking about Sir." Tom lied, he knew that the headmaster was holding his Hogwarts letter, but he wasn't going to give away any more information then was asked for.
"Fine, read this." He passed the piece of parchment paper over the table to Tom who took it and read the letter.
Mr. Tom Marvolo Riddle,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been admitted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Term begins September 1st. Please see the enclosed list of supplies and books. However, because of your current residence we will provide you with all materials of study that you need.
We look forward to see you in September.
Deputy Headmaster,
Albus Dumbledore
"Its about time."
"What do you mean Mr. Riddle?!" The headmaster was glaring down on him and his face was turning bright red, however Tom could sense fear behind his eyes.
"I mean just that Sir. I mean Sir that I knew I would get this letter all along. My mother told me so, she told me she was a witch, and not one of those fake ones with charms and ouija. She had real power, I saw it, I have it. I saw her use it to kill herself.
"What is that boy talking about?" One of the other members of the room was on his feet staring at Tom like he was a mad man.
"He's not being serious, its some sort of joke. I want to put an end to things like this." The headmaster was trying to calm them down, although he was beginning to look a little panicked.
"Fine," said Tom icily, "It's a practical joke, let me ask you one thing though: How did the letter get here?" His face was ashen and serious, "How was it delivered Sir Campford?"
The Headmaster's face grew pale as Tom spoke and as the room turned to look at him for an answer he cleared his throat repeatedly before speaking.
"That is what I wanted to discuss. you see this is going to seem very unbelievable to you. but er." Tom interrupted him
"It was an owl wasn't it? That came this morning and dropped the letter onto your desk?"
"How did you."
"I told you, I've been waiting for this day since I got here, and now I'm going to leave."
"You most certainly are not."
"Oh course I am. What are you going to do to stop me?
"NO!" A woman screamed as her husband threw her back. Her arms were encircling a small boy. Her lip was bleeding and there was a black eye rising on her face. "I tried to tell you earlier you wouldn't listen!"
"What the Hell do you mean that 'you tried to tell me' we're married for twelve years and I find out now about your condition! As if you weren't so damn useless already Conscia!"
"I. I would. I." She was sobbing and stuttering her gray eyes were washed out and pale. Her arms had let go of the little boy who was now inching away. His eyes were wide and frightened. His whole body was shaking uncontrollably as he tripped over the edge of an old rug."
"You." Said the man turning on the boy. His eyes were blazing and ice as he stared down at the boy who had hidden in a corner. He looked as a man possessed looming over the room and glaring down like a bird of death upon the seven-year-old figure.
"And are you just like her? ARE YOU GOING TO BE LIKE THAT?!" He yelled stabbing his hand at the woman in the corner. "You think you're so much better then me."
"Tom don't!" The woman was starting to drag herself up against the wall. One hand was gripping the wall, the other was held tight on a wooden rod. "Tom I'm warning you get away from him."
"Or what? You'll point that little magic stick at me?" He was jeering at her. That little thing In you're ignorant little hand Conscia?" He was laughing down on her now. He yanked the stick out of her hand." She was sobbing outrageously now and sliding back down the wall."
"giv.v.ve . thaaat back!" She was really sobbing now but there was a fierce determination appearing under her eyes. "Give it back."
"And what will you do with it. Turn me into a toad? Do you think I'm that stupid Conscia?." He was pointing her wand at her, gripping it like a sword aimed at her throat." "I should break this, I should break you."
There was a crash in the hall. The man jerked up and stared at where the boy had been standing.
"I'll kill him, I'll get that little bugger."
"Tom Don't. please don't hurt him." He was fuming there was steam piling out of his ears. "Tom.don't!" He broke the wand in half and threw the pieces at her. "That's all you are! Is a god damn piece of wood!" She flinched when it hit her and stared down at the pieces with blood shot eyes.
The man ran out of the room and into the hallway. He flew down the hall after the boy.
"Tom I won't hurt you, just come out its all ok." He was running through the house room after room throwing open the oak doors of the huge house. "Tom come to your father I'm telling you to!" He threw open the door of the kitchen pantry to find the boy huddled in a corner.
He grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out of the pantry and threw him into the parlor where his mother was still sobbing on the ground.
"You DARE not to come when I tell you!" He was towering over the small form that was spread out on the ground, still trying to crawl away.
"Tom don't," The mother called out weakly as she tried to stand up.
"you stay there!" she fell back to the floor sobbing.
"I have had enough of both of you." This time his hand connected with the boy's face. "You ingrate, you're not worthy of living in the same house as me, of breathing the same air. YOU ARE NOTHING!"
His hand flew again across his face again and again. He kicked, he hit always yelling "You are nothing, I hate you."
The boy lay on the floor tears falling in a river from his eyes but he never made a noise, never spoke a single word in protest. Just lay in a mess of black hair and blood.
"Tomorrow I'll be gone and it will just be you and your miserable mother. I hope you suffer, I hope you crawl back to her family. The Marvolos I hate every single one of you and I hope you all die."
He aimed one last kick at the boy's ribs and a door slammed.
The woman lay on the floor still sobbing there was blood on her face and hand marks across her cheek.
"Never, Never." she sobbed. "We'll never go back. never. I'll never crawl back no." Her hands were shaking as she pulled herself across the room to where the pieces of her wand had fallen. She held them together sobbing and shaking forced the ends of unicorn hair to touch.
"Mum. what is." She was still crying, her tears were pooling up on the floor. Her breath was coming in sharply. The boy was staring at her face. He tried to move towards her but each movement hurt him.
"I. I'm. s.s.sorry tom. I'm sorry."
"Mum."
"I'm so so sorry.I.I Tom I'm sorry."
"Mum!" he was frantic and trying to inch his way to her. His ribs and face hurt every time he tried to get to his feet or even his knees. The large parlor seemed even bigger then normal.
"I can't go back, we can't go back tom." She was staring down vacantly at the ground, her wand gripped into her hands with her knuckles turning white. She was pointing it at herself.
"Mummy!"
"A. Aveda."
"MUM!" She was growing eerily calm and stared at Tom across the room. Her eyes were full of pain as she looked across the room.
"You'll be better then that. You are already better then him. don't you dare let anyone compare you to him. Don't you dare."
"MUM!"
"I'm sorry Tom. so sorry."
"Mum what are you doing, mummy I love you mum I. I."
"AVEDA KEDAVA!"
A flash of terrible green light filled the room.
***
Tom Marvolo Riddle sat straight up panting in the night. His eyes looked franticly around the room expecting to see his mother's body, or worse his father.
His eyes were met only be the dismal sight of a crampt room and too many bodies laying on beds little better then cots. Tom stared around at the old wool blankets and peeling green paint on the walls. There were two small windows on opposite ends of the room and they each had three bars horizontal and three vertical bars. They made the same nine square grid pattern that Tom had spent the last four years of his life staring out of.
He looked at the others sleeping around them. Most had been here far longer then he had, most of them didn't have scars like he did. Their parents had all died in the normal fashion, a few were war orphans but none had a story like his. No one in the orphanage was like him.
He ran his hands through his hair and tried to lie back down onto his bed. Every sound pulled him back up, but he was not afraid, he hadn't been afraid for a long time. Now he was just waiting for something to happen. He had always considered himself a patient person but it was getting late and it was time for him to leave.
Knowing that he wouldn't sleep that night Tom crept down the old wood stairs of Mannford House and into a narrow hallway that lead to the old ballrooms and parlors that had been divided with temporary walls into classrooms.
He crept silently into the furthest one from the stairs where after latching the door he collapsed against it. The room was cramped and too many desks were crowded into too small of a space. There were no windows in this room, and the only glimpse of the outside was a broken globe and an outdated map, which still depicted Prussia, and Austria-Hungary.
Tom turned on the singular light that dangled from ceiling. It sent a circle of harsh light down upon the old crooked and graffiti covered desks.
Tom looked around the room but there was nothing to distinguish it from any of the other rooms in the Mannford House orphanage that he resided in. Not that there was anything to distinguish this house from any of the others that dotted the country.
He pulled an old envelope from the pocket of his pajamas. It was creased and worn after too many times opening and closing the folds. Tom hated the letter more then anything else in the orphanage. He hated it with every deep recess of his being and every thought in his mind. He hated it because it was why he was here It was why his mother was dead and why he stifled every day.
To the temporary guardian of Mr. Tom Marvolo Riddle
My Client wishes to inform you that he his relinquishing all rights as the parent and legal guardian as the above mentioned into your care. After the death of his wife Mr. Riddle feels that he is unable to care for his son. He is willing to sign all appropriate documents and will not oppose any placement that you see fit.
Mr. Riddle also requests that he is not contacted again on behalf of his son in any way. He will be joining the army and chooses to leave his son permanently in the power of the state.
Marlin and Finch Partners in Law
The words were starkly legal and formal but since the moment Tom had first read it he knew what the letter really said; 'Your father hates you, he's turned you away to anyone who will take you, and he never wants to see you again'
He hadn't seen his father since that night, that haunted his dreams over and over again; and in some ways he hoped that he would never see him again. More often though he wanted to see his father lying on the floor begging for mercy. Helpless like his mother just before.
His eyes closed to fight back the tears that threatened to spill over onto his face. He would not cry. No one saw him like that, he didn't have anything to cry over, and he was strong. One day he wouldn't have any of this. He would be alone. He would be far away from here. His mother always told him that. He knew he was better then this place.
Tom heard a noise from above him in the dormitories. He turned off the light and slunk to the door. Pressing his ear against the wood he listened to see who else was prowling the school at night, but the old house had gone silent again and there was nothing left but to sneak back up to the dormitory.
He lay down with the letter still in his pocket; he never left it out of sight it was a constant reminder of who he was and where he came from, and he would never let it go. He lay down to wait for the sun still unable to sleep.
The morning dawned cold and gray Tom was dressed and at the window before even the earliest of risers was stirring. He stared out past the small lawn and surrounding cold metal fences to the village beyond
It was just like the village that he had grown up in, except the old red brick Riddle house was missing from its place towering over the landscape.
"Tom what are you doing awake?" The speaker was a middle-aged man with a brown beard and hair in need of a trim. He had just come in to wake the other kids who had begun to move restlessly in their beds. He was the overworked sort and always looked worried about something. He had a tendency to go up and down in weight quickly depending on the type of stress he was under. Now he was looking exasperated and annoyed. "Tom I asked you a question."
"I wasn't tired, I woke up. Is that so hard to understand?"
"Fine." He was still glaring at Tom though as he said it. As if being awake was a malicious evil trick Tom was playing on him. Tom saw this and capitalized on it.
"I heard you walking around last night sir." The caretaker turned and stepped back towards Tom, he towered more then a foot above Tom and glared down at him with a menacing brown-eyed stare.
"I wasn't up last night; and if I find out that you were, I will have your head."
"Right." Tom didn't show any emotion as he spoke, but this seemed to push the caretaker even more.
"Tom you are neither high nor mighty and I don't care what you claim that you heard."
"Fine."
"Oh. and you're on dish duty today."
"I was last week."
"I don't make the schedule and you're name is on it, have fun." He was defensive now and looking for an excuse to flee the room away from Tom.
"I really don't give a damn how much my name shows up on your schedule." Now Tom wasn't even looking at the caretaker, and his words were muted as if spoken to the floor.
"Watch it tom." Tom raised his head to look directly into the caretaker's eyes.
"I always do."
It was an idle game Tom played with the caretakers and he knew it, but it always kept them on their toes when he talked to them, especially the headmaster, Sir William Campford. He thought that his title made him so much better then everyone else, that just because of that he would always be better then everyone else. Well he would learn that he's not better then everyone.
Tom smiled to himself it was already the middle of August and he knew that he would be leaving soon enough so it didn't matter who hated him.
He didn't even mind dishwashing or whatever other chores they came up with for him to do when he was being 'cheeky' or 'disrespectful' he knew that all the teachers hated him and the caregivers would like to see him run away and no be found, but it didn't matter.
He did have a knack for making friends that he found important at the time. The kitchen women all loved him; they gave him treats and called him a 'fine young man' One of them even took them home for a 'real dinner'. It was funny if you think about it, most of the boys distained the kitchen, but Tom knew better then that.
They were the same boys that always complained because they never got what they enough to eat or wanted more desert at supper. Tom always got what he wanted though no matter how much they were lectured on rations and sharing due to the war. There was a way around all rules.
He walked into the near empty cafeteria and shot a brilliant smile at the serving woman at the long tray of food.
"Good morning Mrs. Davis, and how is your cat boots? I loved the picture you showed me last week." The plump graying blonde lady smiled back cheerfully at Tom as he spoke.
"How lovely of you to ask Tom, he's quite well. He even caught that mouse that had been getting into the flour." She smiled as she dumped sausage after sausage onto Tom's plate. "But what about you Tom? How did that Maths test go, you were so worried about?"
"I had to study all the time, and I barely got any sleep for the last week." All of a sudden tom looked very tired and drawn as he looked down at the floor."
"Oh you poor dear. I always knew that they were expecting too much of the lot of you, its already so hard being stuck here and then the unrealistic amounts of work they make you do. It just disgusts me."
"Don't say that Mrs. Davis it's not half as bad as you think." Tom broke off in a yawn. "I hardly had anything else to do."
"Look at you you're a wreck, yawning and its only seven in the morning, I ought to have a word with those teachers of yours."
"Don't do that, I'm fine really and I'll see you later today when I have dishwashing and you can see how well I am."
"Dishes again?" She thrust her giant spoon back into the bowl of porridge in front of her. "You were here last week working, no wonder that you never get enough sleep. Don't you worry about chores today. You will be taking a nap, or face the consequences." Her spoon was now pointed at Tom. Tom threw his hands up in response.
"I guess I have no choice." He said smiling.
"Nope you don't."
Tom turned away from the cafeteria line to find that the room had begun to fill up with sleepy faces in old clothes, a few looked like they were only sleepwalking into the room. Tom found the sight distasteful even though he saw it every day.
A group of eleven and twelve year olds had entered the room as Tom finished talking to Mrs. Davis and were now eyeing him
"Tom is flirting with the lunch ladies again, how does he do that. He gets everyone who doesn't matter to like him, and everyone who does matter thinks he's a prick." A tall blonde boy was smiling and laughing. Tom stood directly in front of him and tilted his head slightly to look into the boy's pale blue eyes.
"Everyone matters, Franklin if you don't believe that then you are going to be sorely lost in this world." Tom smiled as he did so he seemed to grow taller then Franklin as he spoke.
"And what people like you will be in charge? Don't get me wrong Riddle, you're smart but you're stuck in the same bloody orphanage as the rest of us in the middle of a god damn war, you'll be lucky if they take you as a soldier when you turn eighteen."
Tom laughed.
"You honestly believe that the war will go on that long, eventually wars like this will cease to be important."
"Yeah sure Riddle." The boy was laughing now. "You're a psychic right? Or a master of Military strategy? I hardly think that you would even know who's fighting on either side." The whole group was laughing now.
A bell started to ring in the same 'ding dong dong gong' pattern that it did every day. Tom pulled his books and notebooks off the table.
"This has been a really great chat boys but I have Maths now, and I didn't sleep well last night so I would like to continue my sleep."
Tom walked down the hallway towards his first class. A few more boys disappeared every day, all eighteen, all joining the army. The halls were littered with propaganda posters and paint peeling around them.
He walked towards his class among the peeling faces of Winston Churchill and the royal air force. He didn't blame all the boys who ran off on their birthday, he was more then willing to do the same thing, anything to leave here.
Tom walked into the cramped room and immediately sat in the back. The chair next to his creaked whenever the person in it moved. Tom sank into the stupor that usually accompanied these lessons. He was sick of waiting for the letter to come, he wanted to leave now.
The lesson crept on like a snail with a broken leg, and Tom remembered none of it. He didn't sleep either and was more frustrated at every squeak and ever scratch of the chairs against the floor.
It was getting ridiculous to be here. Tom was starting to get a little worried though; his letter should be coming soon. It would be coming; there was no doubt about that. He had enough experience with magic when he was with his mother to know that he wasn't a squib.
The bell rang again and Tom stood up from his desk. He began to trudge down the hall. He was tired and knew that he should have slept last night.
"Mr. Riddle I need you in my office please." The headmaster appeared behind him. "I've receive a letter about you and I feel it would be best to discuss it in my office with the senior board."
"What letter are you talking about?" Tom's heart skipped a beat, finally the letter had come he would be out of here.
"We'll discuss that in my office Mr. Riddle, please follow me."
"I want to know what this is about." Tom stopped caring for even the most common courtesies; he would be gone at the end of the month.
Just come with me Mr. Riddle." Tom followed the headmaster down the hall, and into the one non-cramped room of the building. Sir Campford's study was an old world den of mahogany and oriental carpets. Sir Campford still thought that imperial Britain still existed and that instead of being the headmaster of a children's home he was a big game hunter in Kenya.
Tom entered the room, he had never seen it before, but it represented everything he hated about the orphanage and Sir Campford. While their classrooms were full of peeling paint and outdated maps he had his own plush study.
Most of the faces in the room were wrinkled and drawn, few he had ever seen before. A couple looked like they were practically asleep. Tom sat down in the chair that the headmaster gestured to.
"Mr. Riddle we have received a most interesting letter about you, and I have called these people here to discuss it." The headmaster was holding an envelope of parchment paper in his hand as he sat behind his desk.
"I still don't know what you are talking about Sir." Tom lied, he knew that the headmaster was holding his Hogwarts letter, but he wasn't going to give away any more information then was asked for.
"Fine, read this." He passed the piece of parchment paper over the table to Tom who took it and read the letter.
Mr. Tom Marvolo Riddle,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been admitted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Term begins September 1st. Please see the enclosed list of supplies and books. However, because of your current residence we will provide you with all materials of study that you need.
We look forward to see you in September.
Deputy Headmaster,
Albus Dumbledore
"Its about time."
"What do you mean Mr. Riddle?!" The headmaster was glaring down on him and his face was turning bright red, however Tom could sense fear behind his eyes.
"I mean just that Sir. I mean Sir that I knew I would get this letter all along. My mother told me so, she told me she was a witch, and not one of those fake ones with charms and ouija. She had real power, I saw it, I have it. I saw her use it to kill herself.
"What is that boy talking about?" One of the other members of the room was on his feet staring at Tom like he was a mad man.
"He's not being serious, its some sort of joke. I want to put an end to things like this." The headmaster was trying to calm them down, although he was beginning to look a little panicked.
"Fine," said Tom icily, "It's a practical joke, let me ask you one thing though: How did the letter get here?" His face was ashen and serious, "How was it delivered Sir Campford?"
The Headmaster's face grew pale as Tom spoke and as the room turned to look at him for an answer he cleared his throat repeatedly before speaking.
"That is what I wanted to discuss. you see this is going to seem very unbelievable to you. but er." Tom interrupted him
"It was an owl wasn't it? That came this morning and dropped the letter onto your desk?"
"How did you."
"I told you, I've been waiting for this day since I got here, and now I'm going to leave."
"You most certainly are not."
"Oh course I am. What are you going to do to stop me?