The Girl Who Loved Tom Riddle

by Heroine of the Valley

CONCLUDED!! And I fixed the lil problem with 10 and 11.

8. Unwanted

The Girl Who Loved Tom Riddle 8

Unwanted

Tom bathed and dressed in the finest clothed he found in the wardrobe and went to meet with Mr. Malfoy.  He was so excited.  This was the perfect place for him to live.  It had everything.  Alaric was already talking to his father and Tom bumped into Mrs. Malfoy first in the den, the blond curly wig sitting on a desk beside her. Mrs. Malfoy's natural black hair was cut in layers around her shoulders and she was humming to herself absentmindedly.

"Mrs. Malfoy?" Tom inquired. "Are you all right?"

Mrs. Malfoy gasped and grabbed the wig, setting it on her head.  "Oh…Tom…hello…something I can help you with?"

"You don't need to wear that," Tom said.  "You're a person, not a house elf…why do you wear it anyway?"

"Darien insists I wear it," she answered.  "He says I look better as a blond and it helps us both with your mother's passing, of course.  I always wanted to be just like Carrie."

"I know she was a good fortune teller," Tom said, "but you don't need to wear that on my account.  I never even saw her."

"You really don't need to wear it, Mrs. Malfoy." Tom insisted. 

"I probably don't," she sighed. "But Darien really misses Carrie very much."

"That's why he married you," Tom said, "because you were her best friend."

"Exactly—and we mourn her loss together," said Mrs. Malfoy.

"You don't mind wearing that wig?" Tom inquired, pointing at the log, curly blond wig. "Pretending to be my mother when you're not?"

"But I can be, Tom," she smiled. "Alaric just told me about the idea of adopting you!"

"And…you support the idea?" Tom asked.

"Raising my best friend's son?" she gasped.  "Of course…Tom!  It's something Carrie would've wanted.  I will be the closest thing to your mother.  You and Alaric are already like brothers. You are welcome to stay at Malfoy mansion.  Much better than that muggle orphanage—why—that's no place for a handsome boy like yourself."  She smiled and smoothed out his black hair.  It was sweet, but also kind of unsettling.  Either Mrs. Malfoy was under some kind of spell, or she was mad. She sure had some mad, insane aura around her.

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy," Tom said nervously. "Do you know where I can find Mr. Malfoy?"

"Oh, yes, we'd have to run it by Darien, won't we?" she inquired with a vague smile.  "Come now. We'll go find him."

Alaric was talking to Mr. Malfoy in a large office.  Mr. Malfoy jumped to his feet when Tom entered the room.

"Tom, there you are, my boy," he said, grinning broadly.  "Alaric just told me about adopting you. What do you think Serena?"

Tom was surprised he called Mrs. Malfoy by her real name and was even more surprised when she answered to it.

"I think it's a wonderful idea," she answered.  "Carrie would want this…she'd be singing in her grave."

"Yes, I believe she would," Mr. Malfoy said.  "Alaric, Serena, a moment with Tom, if you please?"

"Sure, Father," Alaric said.  He smiled to Tom.  "I'll be waiting for you in my room, brother."

Tom nodded.  The Malfoy family seemed as insane as they were wealthy, yet Tom still would rather stay here than at the orphanage. Anything was better than that orphanage.

"I'll be right outside, Darien," Mrs. Malfoy instructed as she closed the door behind her, hand on Alaric's shoulder.

Just as the door was shut, Mr. Malfoy went to go lock it. Tom looked at the paintings and heads of deer and unicorns mounted on his wall.  Mr. Malfoy walked up to Tom, grabbed him by the shoulders and lifted his head up.  Tom wasn't sure, but he had the distinct feeling that Mr. Malfoy was going to hurt him.

"Er, Mr. Malfoy?" Tom began.

"You have her eyes," Mr. Malfoy said.

"Yeah…my mothers' eyes."

"Carrie Star had the prettiest, darkest eyes of anyone I've ever known," Mr. Malfoy reminisced.  "You could tell…when you found her looking into your eyes, you looking back into hers, that she could see into your soul and read your mind."

"R-really?" Tom stammered.

"Yes…and you can't do, can't you Tom?"

"Well, I guess so…" Maybe he could, because he began to think Mr. Malfoy was crazier by the minute.

"Carrie had a way with persuading people to do things for her," Mr. Malfoy explained, "I know I'd do anything and everything for her.  Sometimes she didn't even have to say anything. She could just look at you.  That was how your mother was, Tom.  A pity you never knew her."

Tom nodded his head.

"I miss her too.  Sometimes I can still feel her in my head and hear her voice.  She's the kind of woman you can never forget.  Wonderful witch, Carrie was.  I have a way to remember her.  So I always have her near. Would you like to see, Tom?"

"See what?"

"Come with me.  There is something you should see. No one knows about it.  You will be the first one I've ever shown."

"Is it," Tom asked, "a kind of magical tool you could use to see my mother in the afterlife?"

"Oh, if only if it were, Tom!"  Mr. Malfoy exclaimed. "But no…I'm afraid, I haven't something like that. But it is something worth seeing." Mr. Malfoy walked to his bookcase, pulled back a book on the top shelf and the bookcase shifted to the right.  Grinning, Mr. Malfoy beckoned Tom to follow him. 

Tom swallowed and took one step.  He almost stopped dead when his eyes fell on the secret room.  It was a round room with glowing torches. 

"Isn't it wonderful, Tom?" Mr. Malfoy asked, a grin on his pale, lost face.  "A shrine to your mother…Carrie Star…the best witch of them all."

Tom's eyes nearly popped out of his sockets.  His stomach turned. A boy stumbling onto a shrine dedicated to the mother he never meant might be interesting and exciting, but Tom found it unsettling and sick.  Maybe just a picture of Carrie would be nice, but this room was like the vault in Diagon Alley, except it had more.  There was a life-size statue of Carrie Star standing in the room and her eyes followed wherever Mr. Malfoy went.  Even as a statue, her eyes still seemed to have that hypnotizing effect on him.  There were paintings galore of Carrie Star on the walls, different things that belonged to Carrie Star and things she desired and loved, mostly divination items. Tom suddenly pictured in his mind's eye of Carrie walking to class, minding her own business and groaning when she heard lovesick Darien Malfoy chasing after her with flowers shouting, "wait my love!  Wait!  Don't run!  I love you! I need you!"

Mr. Malfoy walked up to the statue of Carrie and touched the face of it, his gray eyes staring down into the stone carved statue, outlining her face and body as if the statue was actually Carrie.  Mr. Malfoy was truly insane. Tom knew that for sure now.  Not only did Mr. Malfoy love Carrie, have lustful emotions for her, he was totally obsessed of her.  Why? Certainly his mother didn't mean to do that, did she?  Maybe the whole Malfoy family was mad.  Darien Malfoy had to have been mad before he even started Hogwarts. It had to be a Malfoy gene.  Had to be. Tom started to have second thoughts about living in this home.  He didn't want to end up insane like the rest of the Malfoy family, no matter how spacious and fancy the manor was.

"Such beauty," Mr. Malfoy mumbled, "most beautified.  She had the body of a real seductress.  I had the pleasure of escorting her to the Yule Ball in our fourth year.  She didn't have anything to wear so I bought her the perfect gown. She looked radiant that night. Your father—whoever he was—was a very lucky man, Tom…Carrie was half veela, you know."

"She was?" Tom asked nervously.

"Oh, yes indeed."

"Mr. Malfoy," Tom cleared his throat, "about adopting me…"

"Huh? Oh, yes," Mr. Malfoy turned around, blinking.  "We will adopt you.  This is the best place for you to be…and whenever you miss your mother, you can just come here and talk to her.  I come and talk to her a lot…hours a day.." he began to look and feel the statue around.  "A pity she had to die…how—did she die—Tom?  I never knew.  I lost track of her after our last year at Hogwarts."

"Childbirth," Tom replied. "Died giving birth to me."

"Your father must've died from a broken heart," Mr. Malfoy said sadly.  "Poor fellow—what was his name?"

"Tom Riddle," Tom repeated.  "And he's not dead—I don't think he is anyway."

"Tom Riddle," Mr. Malfoy pondered. "I don't recognize that name.  That's…your name."

"I was named after him. My father was a muggle," Tom explained.  "He left my mother before I was born."

Mr. Malfoy's expression changed as if he were just brought back to Earth.  In a way, he was.  "What?"

"I said my father was a muggle."

"Your father was a muggle, you say?" Mr. Malfoy's eyes narrowed and he stepped loser to Tom.  He looked angry.

"Yes, sir."

He shook his head. "You must be joking, Tom.  Why would your mother sleep with a muggle? She should never even talk to one…they weren't worth her time…not when she could have had, someone, someone like me."

"I don't know," Tom shrugged.  "She probably didn't know he was a muggle.  She just left me a note in the family vault she knew she was going to die and he left her while she was carrying me."

"I don't believe this."

"Neither do I, sir," Tom said.  "That's why I was brought up in a muggle orphanage."

"This cannot be," Mr. Malfoy said, shaking his head.

"Mr. Malfoy, I thought Alaric told you," Tom said.

"No, Tom. He did not.  But I as sure as hell wish he did…before he talked me into letting you stay here."

"Why is that?"

"Then I wouldn't have let you come, Tom. I cannot let a halfblood infest my house."

"What?" Tom gasped.  "Half—half blood?"

"That is what you are, boy," Mr. Malfoy spat.  "Your father was a muggle—you bear his name—and incase Alaric has not told you, the Malfoy family looks down on muggles."

"But I'm not a muggle!" Tom shouted.  "I'm a wizard! I go to Hogwarts with Alaric!"

"Not as good as a pureblood, I'm afraid," Mr. Malfoy spat.  "Your father was a muggle—you bear his name—and in case Alaric has not told you, the Malfoy family looks down on muggles."

"But I'm not a muggle!" Tom shouted.  "I'm a wizard! I go to Hogwarts with Alaric!"

"Not as good as a pureblood, I'm afraid," Mr. Malfoy said.  "You will need to go back to the orphanage."

"Go back?  Mr. Malfoy, you don't know what it's like over there!" Tom exclaimed. "Please adopt me!  I won't hurt anybody…I can be a good son.  I broke Black Runner for you. Alaric and I best friends."

"How can Alaric be best friends with you, I wonder?" Mr. Malfoy demanded.  "Alaric knows he should only be fraternizing with purebloods! Not mudbloods—not even half-bloods!—Does not matter who your magical parent was!"

"Mr. Malfoy, you made a shrine to my only magical parent," Tom said, "We're standing in it!  I don't think my mother appreciates how you're treating me right now."

"Why did your mother have a muggle man for a husband?" Mr. Malfoy questioned.  "When she could have had a pureblood wizard like me?  I would have done anything for her! Anything!  And I did do everything for her in school.  I checked out every book from the restriction section for her.  I lied and cheated for her.  I fed her cat and even cleaned out her cat box!  I gave her the best things money could buy.  There was nothing I wouldn't' do for her! I even would have killed for her. Why? Why did she choose this Tom Riddle?  Why a muggle?  Why?"
"I don't know, sir," Tom mumbled.  "But you can still adopt me.  I love it here. Don't send me back!"

"I am sending you back to that orphanage you hate, boy," Mr. Malfoy muttered. "You will not be allowed to set foot in this house again."
"Even if Alaric invites me?"

"Alaric will know better than to even think of it!" Mr. Malfoy roared.  "You will not owl him!  Stay away from my son! Stay away from my house!"

"You can't—" Tom began. 

"I want you out of this house in the morning," Mr. Malfoy hissed.  "You will stay in that orphanage until someone really wants you for what you are. Good luck."

Tom clenched his fists.  "Very well…I don't' think I want to live here anyway…and have you for a father.  I'm glad my mother never married you!  Best thing she ever did!  I bet you never left her alone! You are insane! INSANE!"

"Get out!"

Tom backed out of the secret room.  Mr. Malfoy looked back at the statue of Carrie, looking sorrowful and a bit angry. 

"Why a muggle, Carrie?" he asked it as if it could talk back. "Was I not—good enough?  What did a muggle with no magical powers have that I did not? I would have given you everything…everything your heart desired.  WAS I NOT GOOD ENOUGH?"

--

Tom crossed paths with Alaric on the way to his room.  Alaric was wearing a big grin on his face.  "I was just about to come and see you. How'd it go?"

"He's not going to adopt me, Alaric," Tom said. 

"WHAT?!"

Tom pushed Alaric in a den and closed the doors.  "Your dad won't adopt me."

"Why not?" Alaric demanded.  "Is he mental?"

"I think so," Tom said.  "Haven't you noticed?  Your father is insane, Alaric. Is your family related to Uric the Oddball?"

Alaric shrugged.  "We might be," he answered, rubbing his arm in thought, tapping his chin.  "I'm pretty sure that's what my great grandfather said anyway, but he could've been wrong.  His mind was going…"

"He's got a shrine to my mother," Tom said.  "In his office."

"What?" Alaric gasped.  "No way…I've never seen it."

"There's a hidden passageway in his office," Tom explained, "he showed it to me.  He was obsessed with my mother.  Had a shrine and pictures of her everywhere!    Your father is crazy, Alaric!  You should've seen the way he was acting."

"Why wouldn't' he adopt you?" Alaric asked.  "It's not like we don't have room for you…"

"He thinks you don't."  Tom said. "According to your father, there's no room for a half-blood in a place like this. Why didn't you tell him I was a half-blood?"

"I didn't think it was important," Alaric answered.

"Wasn't important?"  Tom demanded.  "Alaric, you must be mental too!  Your father said that a high class pureblood family can't let me stay at your house…you can't even talk to them.  Why did you become friends with me, Alaric?  You wanted to rebel?  Or because I'm Slytherin's Heir? Is that why you wanted to be my friend, Alaric?"

"Of course not, Tom!" Alaric barked. "You told me you were half-blood before you were sorted into Slytherin. If I didn't want to be friends with you, I would've went straight to a different compartment!"

"Why did you stay?"

"I don't know," Alaric answered, shrugging.  "There was just something about you—that I liked—you've got brains…I like that.  Doesn't matter if you're halfblood.  Crabbe and Goyle are purebloods and they can't even spell." He laughed, hoping Tom would laugh with him but Tom was too angry to even smile.  "You're unique.  And you're a real Slytherin.  Most ambitious individual in our year."

"You—you really wanted to be my friend?" Tom asked.

Alaric nodded.  "Absolutely."

Now Tom was able to smile. He sat down. Maybe Tom inherited that persuading behavior from his mother.

"Thanks."

"Anyway, it doesn't even matter," Alaric said, "I'll make my father reconsider.  He'll want to keep you here if you're the last descendant to Salazar Slytherin!"

"Oh, I don't think so," Tom said.

"Why? Did you tell him who you really were?"

"No."

"Well, what's your problem, Riddle?" Alaric demanded.  "Relax.  I'll get it all worked out.  If you just told him you were Slytherin's heir then he would've forgotten about the little mudblood thing. I thought for sure he'd keep you if you were Carrie's son."

"He's angry because my mother married a muggle," Tom explained. "He wanted to be her husband."

"We'll fix this," Alaric insisted.  "Don't worry about a thing."

"I don't think I want your dad to adopt me, Alaric," Tom said. 

"Why not?"

"Your dad is insane, that's why!" Tom shouted.  "If you have seen the shrine to my mother, you'd understand.  He treats your mom like she's my mother! Why does she wear that blond wig all the time? And your mother…your mother doesn't seem to care about wearing it!  I'm surprised he doesn't call your mother Carrie!  Are you sure she's not confounded?
"She's not," said Alaric.  "Let's go talk this over. Come on."

Reluctantly, Tom followed Alaric back to the den to speak with Mr. Malfoy and Mrs. Malfoy.  They were both wearing sneers.

"Alaric, you are not to speak to Tom anymore," Mr. Malfoy ordered.  "He is a half-blood."

"I already knew that," Alaric muttered.  "It doesn't matter because he's the heir of Slytherin!"

Mr. Malfoy chuckled so loudly, so manically, that the windows were about to break.

"Heir of Slytherin?" he inquired, wiping tears from his face.  "That boy?"
"Makes more sense than a mudblood, father," said Alaric.

"I knew he wouldn't believe it," Tom muttered in his best friend's ear, "I still don't believe it myself."

"Come on, Riddle," Alaric muttered back, "the Sorting Hat's never wrong."  He looked at his parents.  "You can't send Tom back to that orphanage. He hates it there!  He is the heir of Slytherin. Really he is!"

"Quit making up stories, Alaric," Mr. Malfoy said lowly.  "Your friend there is going back tomorrow and I don't want him to set foot in this place again!"

"Dad--," Alaric began.

"Forget it, Alaric," Tom said.   "Forget it."

Alaric folded his arms.

"You are not to even talk to him again.  Don't even look at him!"

"We both go to Slytherin!" Alaric exclaimed.  "How am I supposed to not look at him again?  Tom is my best friend. You really expect me to talk to Crabbe and Goyle all the time?"

"Their parents are both magical."

"But they're stupid!" Alaric cried.  "They'd do better as muggles than wizards, Father.  You know that!  Tom may be a halfblood but he's a bloody good wizard!  He ranked high on all his tests!  He can study at the fifth year level!  He broke Black Runner.  We've been trying to break Black Runner for years! Tom can do anything—except fly a broomstick…"

Tom narrowed his eyes. "Thanks, Alaric."

"I'm not surprised," Mr. Malfoy said.  "Because muggles can't ride broomsticks."

"I'm not a muggle, Mr. Malfoy," Tom muttered.  "My father might be but my mother was a witch.  I'm a wizard and I do have Slytherin blood."

"You are to leave tomorrow," Mr. Malfoy ordered. "The matter is closed.  Understand?"

"Yes sir," Alaric muttered.

"Do try to understand, Tom," Mrs. Malfoy said, "It's better this way.  You grew up in the orphanage…you're comfortable there."

"Comfortable?" Alaric gasped. "Mother, Tom's been uncomfortable in that place his whole life! The kids hate him!"
"That is not our concern," said Mr. Malfoy.  "Both of you to bed.  Tom is going back to the orphanage first thing in the morning. Understand?"

"Fine…Come on, Tom.  We'll go play in my room for the last time."  He looked back at his father.  "You're making a very big mistake!  Tom's going to be great someday!  You'll just wait!  He'll rule the world!"

"Alaric, stop," Tom mumbled, his cheeks red.

Tom was having mixed feelings about the whole thing.  Living at the Malfoy Mansion with his best friend sounded wonderful but at the same time it sounded risky.  His new adoptive father was no doubt insane.  He was still in love with a woman who was dead, who probably never returned his feelings.  Tom was also very saddened.  For all his years at the orphanage, he was afraid about being adopted because of what he was.  Before he was even born, a muggle man did not want him because Tom was the son of a witch. Now a wizard man did not want him because he was the son of a muggle.  It seemed as though nobody—whether they were muggle or wizard—wanted Tom for a son.  But Tom wasn't just the son of witch or the son of a muggle, Tom was an orphan.  His parents might had been together long enough to create him and when he was just a fetus growing helplessly in his mother's womb, his father left him before he got to see the family resemblance.  It was not fair to poor orphaned Tom.  Was there anyone—anyone at all—who would care for this boy?  Why did he have to grow up in an orphanage where all the other orphaned boys hated him, the girls feared him and the adults misunderstood him?  For a moment, Tom thought all that was going to change and just as the puzzle was coming together, it was taken apart again.  He was back to square one.  Now he didn't feel like the Heir of Slytherin at all. He felt, just like he always did before he came to Hogwarts, Tom the Orphan.  That's just what Tom was going to be too.  He certainly didn't feel like Her of Slytherin, or the greatest wizard of the age and how could he be when living in an orphanage for his whole childhood?  Tom was an orphan and nobody was going to adopt him.  He might as well face it now.  It was the awful, sad truth.

Bobby and the others bothered him even more when he came back.  "What's the matter, Riddle?" Bobby  asked, his eyes glinting.  "The wizard didn't want you?"

"Shut up," Tom snapped.

"You really are pathetic, Riddle!" Bobby laughed.  "Ordinary people wouldn't want you because you were a freak and now even freaks just like you don't want you either!"

"I'm not a freak!" Tom snapped.

"Leave him alone!" Sarah cried, running into the boy's room.  "That's enough!  Tom is not a freak, he's a genius! The rest of you are idiots!  You don't have a chance of getting adopted any more than Tom!  So just leave him alone!"

"Sarah, go," Tom whispered.

"I can hear you on the next floor," Sarah muttered.  "You keep bothering Tom any more and I'll—I'll scream and Miss Smith will send you to another orphanage!"

"No, you won't," Bobby sneered.  "You don't have the guts!"

"You keep trying to make Tom miserable and I won't have to!" she said. "She'll hear you all fighting!"

"Miserable?" Bobby asked. "Well, let's make him feel better, right boys?"

Patrick and Ned snickered.

"Leave me alone, Bobby," Tom said.  "I don't want to fight with you."

"Why?" Patrick demanded. "Because Tommy got magic homework to do?"

"At least I'm smart enough to do it," Tom sneered.  "You dumb git.  All of ya!"

"What?" Bobby gasped.  "Pummel him!"

Ned grabbed Tom by the collar and just as he pulled back his fist, Sarah clenched her fists, took in a deep breath, closed her eyes and tilted her head back, letting out the longest, highest, loudest scream ever heard.  Bobby, Patrick, Ned and even Tom stumbled back with their fingers in their ears. 

"Make her stop!" Ned yelled.

Loud footsteps came stomping up the stairs and voices carried throughout the hall. 

"What's going up there?"

"Was that Sarah?"

"I think Bobby is bothering Tom again."

"Not again!"

Patrick walked to Sarah, trying to cover her mouth up.  "Quit screaming!  Shut up!"

The other orphans and Miss Smith walked in the room. 

"What's the matter?" she demanded.  "Explain yourselves!"

Sarah immediately stopped screaming.  "Patrick was going to hit me."

"No I wasn't!" Patrick shouted.

"Bobby, Patrick and Ned were fighting Tom."  She said.

"Did Tom fight back?"

"No, ma'am.  Bobby started it. He always starts it."

"Bobby, I think I have no choice but to send you to another orphanage." Miss Smith said sternly.

"What?" he gasped.  "But Tom--,"

"You have been pestering Tom for years and he has done nothing to you. You will be leaving tomorrow."  She looked at Ned and Patrick. "And as for you two, I hope you won't pick up where Bobby left off.  Understand?"

"Yes," they said in unison. 

"Now everyone wash up," she said. "Time for dinner."

People started to walk out of the room but Bobby and his cronies stayed behind.  Sarah took Tom's hand and walked with him downstairs.

"Tom, are you all right?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure," Tom answered.  "Bobby won't be here to tease me anymore."

"No, I didn't mean about that," she said.  "I mean…what happened when you went to see your friend.  You said you were going to be there for the rest of the summer but you came back early.  Did something happen?"

"I asked Alaric's father if he'd adopt me," Tom explained, "he said yes—but when he found out my father was a muggle—he said no and told me not to speak to Alaric again."

"What? That is so cruel!" Sarah gasped.  "You and Alaric are friends!"

"It's not going to keep me from talking to Alaric," Tom insisted.  "I'll still see him at school and we're both in Slytherin House.  We eat at the same table.  How am I supposed to avoid him when I see him all the time?  Alaric's my friend—and—he's the sanest person in the family."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Alaric's father—he's insane, Sarah," Tom said with a slight laugh.  "He was obsessed with my mother.  Had a hidden shrine to her through a passageway from his office.  I imagine Darien Malfoy never left my mother alone.  Always following her everywhere she went, asking if he could carry her books for her, probably.  Mrs. Malfoy is also insane.  She has to wear a wig to look like my mother and she doesn't mind it. Serena Malfoy was my mother's best friend.  That's probably why Darien married her."

"I'm sorry, Tom," Sarah whispered.

"Oh, It's okay," Tom insisted.  He didn't want any pity right now.  "I guess I just have to accept it.  No one wants me."
"Don't say that!" Sarah hissed.  "Never, ever say that!"

"It's true, Sarah," Tom said, "People who don't believe in magic didn't want to adopt me because I was magical, that my mother was a witch.  A wizard didn't want to adopt me because my father was one of those people.  I don't fit in—wherever I go.  I'm just going have to accept it.  I admit it.  No one wants me."

"Tom, if you talk like that, you'll never get adopted!" Sarah insisted.  "Who knows—maybe your father will have second thoughts and come for you!"

"Sarah, be reasonable.  He left before I was even born." Tom muttered. "He's not coming.  If I ever found him and told him who I was, he'd deny me on the spot. I know it."

"You bear his name!" Sarah urged.  "How can your mother just—make it up?"

"Listen, Sarah, if my father wanted me, he wouldn't have left my mother," Tom told her.  "Why would he come for me now?  If he knew I was a wizard, he won't support me.  He didn't support my mother, did he?  He just abandoned her."

"People do change, Tom." Sarah said.  "If you truly believe your father has changed and wants to believe in magic and he's sorry for leaving your mother, then he will.  He'll come for you.  You just need to have faith."

"Faith…yeah…"  Tom mumbled.  "Easier said than done, Sarah."

--

Even with Bobby in another orphanage, Tom still felt miserable with no one to talk to, nothing to do.  Patrick and Ned still teased him now and then but without Bobby to give him commands, they didn't pick on him as much.  Tom went to the stables often and went out on rides to clear his head.  It was weird why he was so good on a horse but he was terrible on a broom.  Could it be just because he worked with them since he was in the orphanage, or did he inherit the ability from someone?  His mother was a witch, was she good on a broom? If she was in Slytherin, then she didn't play Quidditch.  Slytherin didn't allow girls to play on the team but she had to be able to fly, couldn't she?  Maybe she liked to ride horses instead.  There was another explanation, he hated to admit it, maybe he picked it up from his father. Tom didn't know who his father was.  Maybe he was a good horseback rider and loved horses as much as he did.  Muggles certainly couldn't ride a broomstick.  Tom's mind began to wander.  What happened to his mother?  Who was his father she named him from—the man who left her?  Tom was very confused.  Why didn't his mother marry Darien?  He obviously fancied her and wouldn't leave her.  He probably would have her sitting on a pedestal.  Chances were, he might drive her insane like Serena but if Carrie Star had a boy who was crazy about her, why would she pick a boy wanting nothing to do with magic?

--

Carrie Star was a very pretty girl.  Being half veela, she could have any boy she wanted and the boys certainly wanted her.  Many of the girls were jealous of her because of this but Carrie did not want to go to school to be admired. She wanted to learn everything she could so she could make her wizard father proud.  Her veela mother did not stick around very long.  By the time Carrie was old enough to go to Hogwarts, her mother fled with her veela clan, leaving her daughter and husband behind. Veela were like that.  They liked to seduce men, bewitch them and go to bed with them, get pregnant and they might stay a while and then they'd go off with their veela friends to talk and laugh about the men they just seduced. Marvolo Star had to raise her by himself and it wasn't very easy.  He had to be both mother and father and he had to work harder at his job in the ministry.  Marvolo instructed his daughter to find a boy who was pureblood, having two magical parents, with money up to the eyeballs and having looks good enough to kill.  But Carrie didn't want to marry for money, or for looks or because the boy was pureblood.  Carrie wanted to marry for love.  She wanted someone who would want her for who she was, not because she was half veela and was so beautiful.  Things got worse year by year when she developed her body and the boys went crazy, asking her out, giving her flowers and pleading if they could do anything for her.  It made Carrie mad.  She just wanted to learn.  But in their fourth year, when the Yule Ball was coming up, all the boys in Slytherin, even those too young to go, were asking Carrie to the ball left and right.  It made Carrie not even want to go to the ball.

 "Carrie, if you're not going with anyone and since I'm not going with anyone, you want to go to the ball with me?"

"Uh—who are you?" Carrie asked. "You're in my Runes class, right?"

"You take Runes?"

"No…." and Carrie fled quickly every time. She went straight toward the girl's dormitory where it would be safe. 

"I think half the school asked me to the ball today!" Carrie cried.  "It was bad enough people asking me to read their palms!

She fell on her bed and Serena Snape, her best friend, a pretty brunet nudged her.

"Carrie, something came for you!" Serena exclaimed.

Carrie groaned and turned over.  "What is it?"

"A package. It's from Darien."

"From Darien?" she demanded.  "Why won't he leave me alone?"

Carrie leaned forward and unwrapped the package anyway. She might as well and see how much he spent on her.  She found a very nice dress made out of silk.

"That is so gorgeous!" Serena gasped.

"Oh no…" Carrie moaned. "He asked me to the ball and I told him I had nothing to wear…now I have to go with him!"

"Didn't you see this coming?"

"How can I?" Carrie demanded. "I can't concentrate with all these boys following me around!  I might as well put it on and go with him.  I want to die…"

The ball was worse than Carrie imagined.  Darien wouldn't stop holding her hand or take his arm away from her waist and was dancing with her with all the songs and hurrying to get her drinks.  He always asked her if her inner eye saw that they'd be together forever and she always answered no. He probably thought she'd change her mind or didn't hear her because he would continue to ask her.  When it was getting too hot, he escorted her outside for some air and to look at the stars.

"Do the stars say anything about our future, Carrie?" Darien asked wistfully.

Carrie groaned and looked up.  She might as well play along.  "Let's see…well…you're a Sagittarius, right?"

"No, I'm a Pisces."

"Oh, right…Sagittarius is my sign."  She looked back up the stars.  "Uhh...no  I don't' think so."

"Why not?"

"The stars say no match, Darien.  Sorry. But...we can still be friends."

"Okay," Darien mumbled.

"Hey…the stars say you will be very compatible with my friend Serena."

"Serena?"

"Yeah…why don't you go and ask her to dance?" Carrie asked.  "She didn't have a date.  Would you ask her, please, Darien?  It would mean so much to me."

"If it's that important to you," Darien said, bowing, "I'll do it!"  He fled off inside to find Serena. Carrie, finally rid of the dolt, leaned back.

"Finally…I've got him out of my hair."

But she didn't get to relax long.  About five boys came toward her, asking her to dance or what the stars said about their future.  Carrie so wished to disappear right then and there.

--

Another year at Hogwarts was coming for Tom and he did all his shopping for his second year by all his lonesome.  Then he saw Alaric at Diagon Alley was relieved.

"Alaric!" he cried out.  "How are you?"

Alaric waved and rushed to him.  "Hey.  Did you get all you need for Hogwarts?"

"Yeah," Tom replied.  "Where's your dad?  You're not supposed to be speaking with me. You'll get in trouble."

"So he'll cut my allowance," Alaric muttered, waving his hand.  "I can deal getting a few Galleons less each week.  Besides, he's down in Knocturn Alley.  He doesn't have a clue I'm here."

"Knocturn Alley?"

"Yeah, my dad goes there a lot." He explained. 

"Where's your mother?" Tom inquired.

"She's in Flourish and Blotts buying my new books."  Alaric replied.  "Let's go get a couple of ice cream cones.  I'm starved."

"But I have only a couple of sickles left," Tom mumbled.  "I could go back to my vault--,"

Alaric let out a throaty laugh.  "Don't worry, Tom.  It's on me.  I've got plenty of money."

"Okay. Lead the way."

The two boys went to the ice cream shop and Alaric bought two double-scooped ice cream cones.  For Tom, a scoop of chocolate and vanilla and for Alaric, a scoop of butter pecan and cherry. They sat at the booth to enjoy their ice cream cones.

"Thanks for the ice cream," Tom said, licking the dripping chocolate from his hand.

"Sure.  Why haven't you owled me?"

"Didn't you hear what your father said?" Tom inquired. "He doesn't' want you writing me.  He told me never to write you."

"But I wrote you in the night," Alaric said. "You got my owls, haven't you?"

"Yeah, but, I didn't want you to get in any more trouble."  Tom mumbled.  "I've caused enough damage already."

"Oh, please," Alaric rolled his eyes.  "You didn't tear up the mansion.  You were on your best behavior.  When I invite Crabbe and Goyle over—well—they eat everything and they're well—you know how they are."

"They could probably ride a broomstick better than I can."

Alaric chuckled. "Tom—you are even better than Crabbe and Goyle."

"Then they must be very bad!" Tom grinned.

"Crabbe and Goyle have no manners…all they do is eat when they come over.  They don't know how to do anything else."

"But they're purebloods," Tom mumbled.

"They look more like trolls than wizards, Tom," Alaric insisted after swallowing a bit of his cherry flavored ice cream.  "Maybe my father will change his mind."

"I don't even think my own father will," Tom said.  "It's strange.  Muggles don't want to me to be their son because I'm a wizard and now your father doesn't want me because I'm a half-blood.  I'm cursed."

"Well, he can't keep me from being your friend," Alaric insisted.  "And for a half-blood, you're a pretty good wizard."

"I guess so," Tom mumbled.

"You can be prefect.  I'm sure you will be.  Then my dad will be so sorry he didn't adopt you."

"Will that be enough?" Tom inquired.

Alaric shrugged, "if not, you'll still be a good wizard and you get to tell all the lower classmen what to do!  Why don't you go for it, Riddle?"

"I guess I will."

"You can be Head Boy too!"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Tom said.

Alaric was just finishing up his ice cream and the boys were conversing when an angry man walked inside.  "Alaric Terrence Malfoy!"

{Author's note: Hey, his initials are ATM!  Heh!  I think it fits because he's got a lot of money!  I crack myself up…}
Alaric dropped his ice cream cone and stood up.  "F-father."

"What have I told you about talking to this half-blood?" Mr. Malfoy demanded.  He noticed the ice cream cones. "You bought him ice cream? With your allowance?"

"I have to spend it on something!" Alaric shouted.

"Look, I'll pay you back," Tom began, reaching into his pocket.

"No, forget it, Tom," Alaric insisted.  "Finish your ice cream."

"Come, Alaric," Mr. Malfoy ordered.  "We are going now."

"See you at school," Alaric whispered to Tom, leaving with his crazy father.

"Bye," Tom said, watching him leave. A girl working at the shop got down and started to clean the mess up.  "Here, let me help you.  I can pay for it."

"Don't worry about it," she said, "it happens all the time."

Tom sank down in his chair and finished his ice cream.  Not only he couldn't be brothers with Alaric, but he couldn't be friends with him either.  After he finished his ice cream, he walked out of the shop and left Diagon Alley, alone.

--

His second year at Hogwarts went as well as the first.  Tom did well on all of his subjects and since Mr. Malfoy wasn't there to breath down Alaric's neck, Tom and Alaric talked and played like brothers usually do.  Still, his mind was flooded with nightmares. Nightmares of his father leaving his mother, living at the orphanage, Mr. Malfoy telling him he wasn't going to raise a half-blood in his pureblood home.  No matter where Tom went, no matter whom he talked to, no one wanted him.  At the end of his second year and it was time for the second years to pick out two new classes for their third year, Tom wasn't sure what to pick.

"Don't take muggle studies," Alaric said. "You really don't need that."

"Yeah," Tom agreed.  "I've been with muggles long enough and I don't need to take it to know why my no good muggle father left my mother."

His hand clenched tightly on the paper.  All of the new subjects sounded interesting and he wanted to try them all bt he could only pick two, or could he?

"Alaric, can I try more than two?" Tom asked.

"You are going to be in more than one class at once?" Alaric demanded.  "Don't be crazy, Tom. How are you going to take on so many classes with the required classes we're already taking?  Those are enough if you ask me."

"I'm going to talk to Professor LeStrange," Tom said, standing up.  "Maybe he can figure it out for me."

"Well, good luck."  Alaric said, watching him leave.

As Tom walked out of the Great Hall, he nearly bumped into Professor Dumbledore. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, Professor Dumbledore," Tom mumbled, unable to look up at his bright eyes.  Why did Dumbledore scare him so bad?  He was a nice enough wizard and he made Transfiguration a fun class and hardly gave too much homework.

"It's all right, Tom," Dumbledore said, watching Tom walk out of the Great Hall.

Tom hurried down to the dungeons and knocked on Professor LeStrange's office door.  "Professor LeStrange?"

Professor LeStrange opened the door and invited him in.  "Ah, Mr. Riddle, what can I do for you?" Professor LeStrange was always kind and spoiling to those of his house.

Tom sat down.  "About the classes I need to take next year, I want to take more than two," Tom replied.

"With the work you already need to do?" Professor LeStrange inquired with laugh.  "Now Tom, you are a brilliant boy, maybe the most brilliant of my house but it will be quite a challenge."

"I don't want to take muggle studies," Tom said. "I know enough about them."

"Oh, of course.  I don't' see why we have it here at Hogwarts anyway."

"I want to take every thing else." Tom said. "Runes, Arithmancy, Divination and Care of Magical Creatures."

"All that?"

"They sound interesting.  I want to know what I'm good at."

"Well, Tom, let me explain what they are," Professor LeStrange began. "It's obvious what Care of Magical Creatures is, but it is more than just reading about unicorns, you know.  Professor Moon will have the creatures there and you have to feed them, study them and everything.  You want to do that?  It's tough work, especially if there is a creature that is hard to handle."

"I love animals," Tom said. 

"I'm sure you do." Professor LeStrange smiled.  "Divination is an interesting subject but it is quite difficult if you don't know that art."

"My mother got an Inner Eye award," Tom said.

"Yes, I know," Professor LeStrange nodded.  "Arithmancy and Runes are the most difficult courses.  Arithmancy is like mathematics in the magic world."

"I'm good at arithmetic," Tom insisted.  "I studied algebra and geometry while at the orphanage."

"Ah.  Good.  But Runes…must be the most difficult class.  You need to study different symbols and know what they are."

"I'm willing to try," Tom said.  "And I have a good photographic memory."

"You really want to take these four new classes in addition to your own?" Professor LeStrange questioned.

"Yes sir."  Tom said firmly. He wasn't going to let anyone talk him out of becoming the most educated student of Hogwarts, even his head of house.

He smiled.  "Well, then. There may be a way."

"How?"

"With a time turner, of course," Professor LeStrange replied.  "I will need to get one from the Ministry of Magic and tell them you are a very good student."

"I am."

"Of course you are, my boy," Professor LeStrange nodded.  "You get full marks in Potions.'

"You give full marks to everyone in Slytherin, Professor," Tom said.

"Indeed," Professor LeStrange said.  "Oh, and if this does work out, I won't give you any Potion homework, so you can work on your other subjects."

"But Professor, you don't' ever give homework to students of your own house," Tom said. 

"Ah yes, but they don't need it," Professor LeStrange said.  "Now off your first lesson.  I will let you know when I get this worked out with the Ministry."

"Thank you, Professor."

A week before the second year ended, Professor LeStrange was able to get the Time Turner and he gave it to Tom in after a potion lesson.  As Tom was getting his books, Professor LeStrange approached him.

"Mr. Riddle," he began and he eyed Alaric.  "Mr. Malfoy…"

"Alaric, go on," Tom said, "I need to talk to Professor LeStrange."

"Okay," Alaric said, "I'll wait for you outside."

Professor LeStrange waited until everyone left and he took out a chain with an hourglass hanging from it.  "Here is the Time Turner," he said.  "It took a some convincing, but the Ministry agreed to letting you use this to take your extra classes.  I must advise you to not use it for anything else.  Don't change the past or venture fifty years from now to know what's going to happen—and with your divination class—I don't think you'll need to!"

"Thank you, Professor," Tom said, taking it and putting it underneath his shirt.

"It's best that you don't tell anyone about it," Professor LeStrange advised. 

"No one?" Tom inquired.  "What about my friends?"

"No one, Mr. Riddle," he insisted.  "Each turn is an hour.  Here are the instructions."  He handed him a piece of parchment.  "Now hurry to your transfiguration lesson unless you want to try the Time Turner out now."

"Thank you, Professor," Tom nodded and he walked out of the dungeon room where Alaric was waiting impatiently for him,

"What did he want?" Alaric demanded. "Is he going to adopt you?"

"I wish," Tom replied.  "Come on, let's get to Transfiguration or Dumbledore will turn us into rotten eggs…"

To Be Continued