The Girl Who Loved Tom Riddle 10

The War

Tom was happy he dropped Divination. It might have been an interesting class but it was not from him, especially after what happened for his final.  For the last part of term in Care of Magical Creatures, they were studying unicorns. The unicorns were skittish around the boys and would only let the girls approach.  Tom knew this was the way unicorns were, but he loved horses and he wanted to ride a unicorn, just once, or at least, touch it.

"They're so beautiful," Tom mumbled. "Look at how they glow."

"Yeah—I wonder if we will use their blood for potion class," Alaric said.

"What?" Tom gasped, turning to Alaric. "Alaric, don't you know that drinking unicorn blood will give you a half life?"

"Yeah, but it can keep you alive," Alaric said as if killing an innocent, beautiful creature were no big deal.  "Even if you're about to die."

"Well, I'd rather die that kill a unicorn," Tom said.  "Besides, how would I kill it if I can't even get close to it?"

"You don't' have to use a knife, you know."

"Alaric, you worry me some times," Tom said.

It was a wonder, how Tom Riddle could be a best friend with Alaric Malfoy. They were complete opposites except for the fact they were both in Slytherin.  Tom was poor.  Alaric was wealthy.   Tom had manners.  Alaric did not.  Tom grew up in an orphanage.  Alaric grew up in a manor.  Tom liked to study and work.  Alaric liked to cheat.  Tom was good with the books. Alaric was good with the broom.  If it weren't for the fact they were both in Slytherin, might have been rivals.  However, even though Alaric sometimes seemed as though he wasn't best friend material, he did respect Tom for what he was when the boys at the orphanage didn't. When Tom needed new robes, Alaric came up with the money for them.  Alaric took him to his home. Tom didn't stay there very long but at least Alaric took the time to invite him.

"Hey, boys," said the Care of Magical Creatures Professor, holding a baby unicorn.  "You can approach the foals.  They'll let you."

Tom grinned and hurried to the foals.  Unlike the adult unicorns, the foals were gold and they were less skittish.

"I still want to ride on one though," Tom said, sitting down on the grass and stroking one of the foals. 

"That's quite difficult, Tom," the teacher explained.  "When a unicorn sees you, it runs away before you can get any closer."

"Why do they fear boys?" Tom asked.  "Do they think boys will hurt it?"

"Yes, correct," the teacher replied.  "A witch has a better chance of approaching a unicorn because most witches are pure…like a unicorn.  It fears that a wizard will kill it for its blood or hair or horn."

"But I would never harm something like this," Tom said.  "I just want to get close enough to it so I could ride it.  I love horses."

"Yes, well, horses are not the same as unicorns, Tom."

Tom groaned. "I guess not."

The baby unicorn started to lick Tom's face. Tom laughed.

--

Tom was dreaming again, but this time, it wasn't about the wizard.  Actually, he was dreaming he was in the forbidden forest, tracking unicorns.  They ran away when he got close enough to them.

"Don't worry."  Tom said. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to touch you."

Tom reached a foal and he got down his knees to play with it. It licked his face and Tom gave a boyish laugh.  Chuckling, he got back up to his knees.  He saw a unicorn standing a few feet away from him.  Tom stood still and didn't make any sudden moves. 

"Hi," Tom whispered. "I know you don't let wizards approach you because you think they'll kill you for magical properties in your blood and horn, but I'm not like other wizards.  I just want to get close enough to touch you and maybe ride you.  Please don't run away."

The unicorn blew air from its mouth, it's lips sounding like a rudder as it brought its head down to the ground and continued to graze.  Tom took a step to the animal.  When it reared its head up, he stopped. 

"Be patient, Tom," he told himself.

He waited before taking another step, looking into the animal's eyes.  He walked closer, coaxing encouragingly.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

Tom reached his hand out. He was getting closer.  He should be careful so the unicorn doesn't run away.  Another step. So far so good. The unicorn showed no signs of running away.  One more step to go. 

Tom reached the animal and started to pet it.  "There now…see? I'm not going to hurt you.  I'm harmless."

Tom grabbed hold of its mane.

"I wish I could ride you."

The unicorn bent down on its front legs.  Tom laughed.

"Unbelievable."  He pulled himself up and kept hold of the unicorn's mane, using it as reigns to guide it.  He gave a gentle kick in the ribs and it started walking around.

"I'm riding a unicorn," Tom said in disbelief. "I'm doing it…oh, if my other could see me now.  Faster, unicorn.  Faster."

The unicorn's pace increased to a trot.  Tom leaned forward and held tightly on the mane.  Then the unicorn started to gallop. Tom laughed, overjoyed.  He was having so much fun spending time with the animal when he heard a loud noise and something plunge into the animals skin.

The unicorn neighed painfully and Tom fell off.  He tried to get up.

"What happened?" he asked himself, turning around.  "What was that? Oh no!"

The unicorn was neighing in pain. Something had pierced its front legs.  It couldn't move and it fell down.

"No. No!" Tom ran to the animal to look at the wound.  Silver blood poured out of the wound. There was another piercing noise like an arrow and it hit in the animal in the neck.  It neighed and shook its head.  "Don't worry…don't worry!  I can help you. Oh no…it's going to bleed to death."

He tried to keep the unicorn calm by talking to it.  It was breathing shallowly.  Something came up behind Tom and threw him aside.

"What the?" he gasped. He turned and saw the dark wizard bending down to the unicorn, dipping its finger into the wound.

 "What are you doing?" Tom demanded.  "Leave it alone!  What have you done?"

"Don't you mean what you've done?" it said, reaching his finger into his mouth.  "Mmm, unicorn blood.  Tastes wonderful…you can feel it start working.  Care for a taste, boy?"

"No!" Tom shouted. "I'll be cursed once that blood touches my lips!"

"So be it," he said, bending down to lick the blood away from the leaking wound. "But you will some day. You will do anything to stay immortal."

"You're wrong." Tom muttered.  "I will not kill something so beautiful just so I can live for another ten years!  I am in great health anyway."

"Oh, you say that now," said the evil wizard, "but someday, you will find yourself so weak that you'll beg for it."

"You lie," Tom muttered.  "I'd just let myself die."

"You will see, half-blood," the evil wizard continued after taking another lick of unicorn blood.  "You wont' be able to control yourself. You are just now seeing what greatness tastes like. Third year at Hogwarts, taking extra classes, on your way to becoming a dueling champion.  At this rate, you'll be able to apparate in your fifth year.  You want to get another taste of greatness, boy? It's right here.  Drink it up."

Tom clenched his fists. "I'll be happy once I'm Minister of Magic. I won't need to become you."

"That's a lie," said the wizard.  "Don't you see? Once you accomplish one thing, you'll want another, and another, and another.  Minister of Magic would not be enough for you.  You will continue to thirst for greatness.  This is where will end up, half-blood.  You will become me.  It will be better than the Minister of Magic, I assure you."

"I don't want to kill anyone. Not people, not even animals!"

The wizard laughed and went toward Tom. Tom backed up. He grabbed Tom's hand and slapped the unicorn blood on his finger.

"Go ahead, boy. Have a taste…"

"No…you killed that poor creature," Tom insisted. "I will not be able to look at a unicorn again the same way."

"Well, then perhaps you should quit Care of Magical Creatures then, shouldn't you?" he laughed.  "Stick with Runes and Arithmancy.  Those are your strong points, dear boy."

"How would you know?" he demanded. "You don't know me.  Maybe I want to stay with Care of Magical Creatures."

"Boy, I know you more than you can comprehend. Because I am you.  I'm you decades from now.  Soon I'll leave your subconscious and I'll take you over. You just wait…now, I'm resting in your soul.  You cant' stop me.  I'm stronger than you are."

--

Tom ended up having to stop Care of Magical Creatures because he became close to tears every time he looked at a unicorn. He couldn't' do it anymore. He could just see the dark wizard bending down the unicorn and drinking its blood.  Tom didn't want to study any more animals because he knows he'll have a nightmare of the dark wizard killing it for its blood too.

Before the End of Term banquet, Tom handed in his Time Turner.  "I can't keep it up, Professor LeStrange." He said, taking the Time Turner off his neck. "It's too hard."

"You did quite well, Tom," said LeStrange, "I'm impressed that you made it this far."

"I'm staying Arithmancy and Runes for now on," he said. "I'm really good at those anyway."

"All right then," he nodded.

"Could you give me more Potions homework, Professor LeStrange?" Tom asked.

"What for?"

"Potion is a real art.  I want to learn all I can about it."

"Oh, very well, I suppose," he replied  "Best be off to the banquet."

Tom went to the End of Term banquet and fell down next to Alaric. 

"Where were you?" Alaric inquired.

"I was speaking to Professor LeStrange," Tom replied, "I dropped Care of Magical Creatures and sticking with Runes and Arithmancy."

"Oh no," Olive gasped.  "Divination and Care of Magical Creatures were the only new classes I had with you!"

"Oh, boo-hoo," Alaric muttered.  "Well, I guess you'll be stuck with me then, Olive!"

Olive folded her arms. "Humph."
"Don't worry, Olive," Tom insisted. "You'll still me in everything else. Our required classes--Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology…"

"But it's not the same," she frowned."

Alaric chuckled and took a sip of his drink.

--

During the summer, there was a war involving the whole world. Adolf Hitler was declaring war and there were allied forces trying to stop him.  Tom sat in the den with the other children, listening to the radio about the war.  Tom thought about this Adolph Hitler. What was he thinking? Trying to take over the world?  It reminded him so much from the wizard from his dream except Adolf was a muggle. Now the whole world was at war and Tom did not understand why the wizard world did not do anything to help.  Did they not live in the same world together? 

He sat there on the floor, with eleven-year-old Sarah laying her head on his lap.  He was stroking her strawberry blond hair away from her face, thinking he should try to help the muggle world.  All right, so he might get in big trouble for it, but what should he do? Just sit here and listen to the radio about World War II and so many people dying?

True, most people from his house hated muggles and Darien Malfoy surely wouldn't want Tom to talk to Alaric after this, but Tom had to do something.  He looked around the room. Everyone looked so scared and angry. Tom pushed Sarah up from his lap and got to his feet.

"Tom, what are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm going to the boy's quarters," he answered. "I need to be alone for a while."

Tom hurried up the stairs, opened his trunk and pulled out his Oakshaft 79 and wand. He stuck it behind jeans, opened the window and flew out into the night. He had to help those people. After all, he was half muggle.

Tom soared around and he saw the war going on.  Fighter planes going down.  People screaming and running off. One of the Nazi planes prepared to drop a bomb on a civilian building.  Tom raised his wand at it.

"Transfigurio Aetites!"

Just as the bomb was about to hit, it changed into a giant eagle.  He flew around, keeping an eye out for any trouble.

"Whoa? What the?" shouted an English air fighter.

"What's the matter, Frank?"

"Something just flew by my plane—looked like some kid on a broom!"

"You're losing it, Bryce."

"I swear—I saw a kid on a broom!" Frank Bryce insisted.  "I saw him!"

"Oh, what a load of—what the!" the other fighter leaned forward.

"See, I told you I saw him!"

"Let's shoot him down!"

"Hey, wait a second, I think he's on our side!" said the other fighter.

Another fighter's plane got hit and Tom soared to hit to put the flames out, opened the door and old his hand out.

"Come on!" Tom shouted. "I'll save you!" He grabbed the fighter pilots arm and flew him to safety.  He hearted the shout of machine guns down bellow.  Somebody was being killed.

"No! No!"

Tom flew down but the teargas made it him possible to see. He waved his wand and used a Clearing Charm. He landed, his hand outstretched.  He heard the Nazis talking in German, shooting some of the English army.

Tom ran up behind them. "Stupefy! Stupefy!"

The Nazi soldiers were stunned and they fell on the ground. Tom looked for anyone who needed help. Where were all the field medics? So many people were hurt. Dead. He heard someone shouting for help.

"Is there anyone there? Help me. Please."

"I hear you! I hear you!" Tom cried, running to the sound. "Don't worry, I'll help you! I'm coming!"

"I've been shot…can't feel my legs."

Tom found the soldier lying on his back, reaching to him.  Tom gasped and stepped back.

"Oh no…"

No wonder did the boy was unable to feel his legs. They were blown off. 

"Help me."

"Don't worry, don't worry, I'll help you," Tom insisted. "Just lie back…lie back." Tom looked at the soldier's face and screamed.

Tom knew who he was. He grew up with him at the orphanage. It was Josh, the only boy that didn't pick on him.

"Josh—hold on—you'll be okay."

"How—how do you know my name?" he asked.

"Josh, don't you remember me?" Tom questioned. "It's me, Tom. Don't you remember me, from the orphanage?  You were adopted a couple years ago, remember?"

"Tom…yeah—yeah, I remember you," Josh said, his voice hoarse. "H-how are you doing?" Long time no see."

"Yeah, I know, sorry…I've been kind of busy," Tom said.  He looked around. Maybe he could try stick his legs back together?  It shouldn't be so hard.  He had a magical wand for goodness sakes.

"Tom…I can't…breathe…"

"Just relax, Josh, relax…I'll think of something…don't worry…oh, healing potions. Why didn't I bring any healing potions?"
Josh had a coughing fit and blood dribbled from his mouth. Tom didn't know what to do.  He just lifted him up and tried talking to him.

"Hey, stay with me," Tom insisted. "Don't die on me, okay? We got a lot of catching up to do."

"Heh, yeah," Josh mumbled trying to laugh.  "My legs…I can't feel my legs."

He tried to look down but Tom held him back.

"No Josh…no, just lay back."

But Josh saw the blood stained grass where his legs should be and he freaked out. "My legs! I have no legs!"

"Now just calm down," Tom said, almost about to freak out as well. "Josh…don't die on me buddy, why don't you talk to me about your new parents, huh? Josh…"

Josh went into convulsions.  Tom yelled in anger.

"No…Dammit!"

Josh's eyes rolled back into his head, he took in a breath and he died.

"Josh? Josh?  Josh! No!" Tom threw head back and screamed. "AUUUUGGGGH!"

"Hey, I hear something," said one of the other infantries.  "Let's get a medic over her."

Tom got up to his legs and walked away before anyone else saw him.  Did it make any difference, coming over here?

--

Tom returned to the orphanage smelling like smoke, tear gas and blood.  He sat on his bed, looking as if he were in a trance.  People heard on the radio everywhere about a boy riding on a broomstick.  Believing that it could be Tom, Sarah went upstairs to the boy's quarters to see if he was still there.

"Tom?" she asked. "They're saying on the radio that a boy was riding on a broomstick in the war.  Could that be you? Tom?"

Sarah walked to him. He looked as if he didn't even notice her walk in.

"Tom? Oh Tom, it was you, wasn't it?" She sat down next to him and put her arms around his neck.  He sat there, his arms on his knees, his palms up in the air with unfocused eyes. 

"Tom, you look terrible…what happened?"

"He's dead," Tom mumbled.

"What?"

"Josh…you remember Josh, don't you?" Tom inquired.  "He was there…in the war.  His legs, they were blown off. I could do nothing to help him. Why, why didn't I try to save him?  I could've created new legs for him. I had my wand on me. I just sat there and watched him die.  I could've done something—I snapped Ned's neck back in place when I accidentally pushed him down the stairs, why, why did Josh had to die?  He wasn't mean to like Bobby or Ned or Patrick."

"Oh, Tom," said Sarah.  "It will be okay."

"Sarah, it was awful, he said. "I hate war…I hate it!"

--

The Ministry of Magic got wind of Tom flying on his broomstick during the war and he had to go and speak to them.

"You were seen," said the Minster of Magic himself, holding up the Daily Prophet, where Tom was flying around on his broomstick. "You used spells, Mr. Riddle. How do you explain yourself?"

"Those people would've died," Tom mumbled. "I had to do something."

"You gave our world away!"

"The world is at war, Minister!" Tom cried.  "How could you just sit back and watch this all happen?  It's inhuman!  Do you really think that if we keep the magic world a secret everything will be better? My father was a muggle, Minister!  My father! And he left my mother because she was a witch. If he knew already about the magic world, maybe he wouldn't have left.  We should try to get our worlds to coexist.  There are many muggleborns at the school now. Some of those people who died could've been their parents, or relatives!"

"Sit back down, Tom," the Minister of Magic ordered. 

Tom did so, frowning.  "When I become Minister of Magic, things will be different.  Muggles and wizards will coexist.  They'll understand one another.  We can't hide forever. Some day or another, muggles will find out who we are."

"Well, Tom, when you become Minister of Magic, you can do that," the minister of Magic said, "but now I'm the Minister here and what I say goes, understand?"

"Well, what are you going to do then?" Tom demanded.  "Expel me from Hogwarts?"

"Considering you had good intentions, Tom, we'll let you off," he said. "But…something like this had better not happen again. Understand?"

"Yes, Minister," said Tom.

"Good…enjoy the rest of your summer. And no more playing hero."

--

Tom's nightmares had become worse after trying to save Josh.  Bombs were falling all around Tom and there were dying muggles around him.

"Foolish half-blood," said the evil wizard. "Why do you try to help muggles when they hate and fear you?"

"Not all muggles are like that," said Tom.  "Some muggles like magic.  Maybe if my father understood more about the magic world he wouldn't have left."

"You are a fool, boy, trying to save muggles. You are wasting your time."

"I am half muggle," said Tom. "I can't deny it and kill muggles because of what my father did. There are still a lot of good people out there and you want me to kill them!"

"You will kill them, half-blood," said the voice. "You will.  Someday you will see."

"I don't want to kill anybody," said Tom. "It's wrong to kill.  I just want to be a great wizard."

"The only way you'll be great is if you become me."

"But I don't want to be you.  I hate you."

The darker side of Tom Riddle laughed.  "You say that now, but soon, you will be become me.  It will be only a matter of time.  Why try to save muggles?  You know they won't want to live with wizards and witches.  How can they? When muggles can't live together?"

Tom flinched.  The monster laughed again.

"You see? It's true. You know it is true.  After this world war with the muggles, do you think they'll want to share this world with you?"

"Not all muggles are like that.  Just leave me alone."

"I will never leave you alone, boy.  You need me.  As much as you want to deny it, you need me."

"That's a lie."

"Look, half-blood," the cloaked figure pointed behind him.  "Look…you want to see why you're half muggle?  Why your mother chose a muggle?  You want to know the story…look behind you and see."

Tom turned and looked behind him. He saw his mother, probably eighteen, recently graduated from Hogwarts, standing next to a tree and looking at a group of boys playing a sport on horses.  There was one boy he couldn't see very well.  He was blurred out but Tom got the feeling this boy was his father.

--Carrie's Past--

Carrie looked on interested at the game they were playing. The only sport she was familiar with was Quidditch.

"Muggles are such interesting people," she said to herself, watching on with a smile.  She was wearing a muggle style of attire, a soft green sundress and sunhat

A very good-looking boy with black hair caught her attention.  She gasped when she saw him.  It was like the whole world stopped.  She stepped forward and focused on him.

"He is so handsome," she gasped. 

"Great play, Tom," said one of the boys.  "You're the best polo player on the team.  A real champion."

Tom grinned and patted his dark brown mustang. "Well, it's not just me…I couldn't do it without Thunder."

Thunder pounded the ground with his hoof.

Carrie walked closer onto the field.  One of the boys wolf whistled.

"Look at that. What a catch, wouldn't you say?"

"Hey, Tom, she's looking at you."

Carrie smiled. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?" Tom asked.

"This," she nodded to the stick he was playing.  "What is it called?"

"I guess the girl's never seen a polo game before," said the boy next to Tom.

Tom leaned forward. "It's called polo.  It's a game you play on horseback."

"I've never been on a horse before," she said wishfully.

Tom smiled flirtatiously, "well, pretty girl, would you like a ride then?"'

His friends hooted and winked, saying, "go Tom."  Carrie smiled back, took off her hat and shook her long curly blond hair. 

"I'd love to."

"All right then," Tom held out his arm. "Come on over, don't be shy.  My horse won't bite."

Carrie put her hat back on her head, walked to the horse, petted Thunder and took Tom's hand.  He lifted her up in front of him and she sat sidesaddle.

"My name's Carrie," she said softly. "Carrie Star."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," he smiled. "I'm Tom Riddle.  I'll see you later."

"Oh, sure," said his friends, grinning.  Later, Tom."

Tom took Carrie around the countryside.  She loved how he handled the house.  It like he the horse knew where he planned on going.

"Love horses, don't you?" she asked.

"Sure do," he replied. "Since I was a little boy. I'm a polo champion—you know—I got lots of trophies.  My father's rich."

"That sounds interesting," he said.  "Can I see your home?"

"You want to see where I live?"

"Please?"

"Well, all right," Tom said.  "If you won't get in trouble with your family.  Wouldn't want them to think you were kidnapped."

Carrie smiled. "Oh, I wouldn't say that. Tell me more about yourself, Tom."

The more Tom had to speak about himself and her family; she wouldn't have to talk about hers.  She knew he was a muggle and she was a witch. She shouldn't even be with a muggle right now.  Her father wouldn't like it one bit.  Her ather expected her to marry a wealthy, pureblooded wizard, someone like Darien Malfoy. But Carrie did not like Darien Malfoy.  She didn't like him at all.

It didn't take long for Carrie to fall for Tom. She found that this muggle boy was more fascinating than any boy she ever met and he seemed interested in her too. Not because she was half veela, or a talented witch, or a good seer, but he seemed interested in her for her and that was what Carrie ever wanted.

Tom picked up the hat from her head.  "You know, you have very pretty hair.  Why wear a hat?"

"Keeps the sun out of my eyes," she answered.

"I like your hair the way it is," he said.  "So long…curly…shiny," he reached his hand in it.  "Like gold."

She smiled, "yes…I suppose so." She took the hat back.  "I guess I really don't need it.  Not that bright of a day.  My father gave it to me."

"He wants to cover your hair?"

Carrie sighed and threw the hat on the ground.  "I think so.  My father's…kind of bossy.  He wants to live my life for me, you know…won't let me choose for myself."

"I know what that's like," Tom agreed.  "I think my horse would like to go back home.  Bet he's hungry…and I'm too. Care for something to eat?"

"I'll be delighted."

"All right then."

Carrie was amazed at the size of his house. It was huge.  He took Thunder back to the stables, took off the reins and took the bit out of his mouth so Thunder could drink and eat while he took of the saddle.

"Such a big place," Carrie said, looking up at the mansion while Tom continued to take off Thunder's saddle.  "Do you have servants?"

"A cook and a gardener," he replied. 

"Do they saddle your horse for you?"

"I don't let them go near Thunder," he explained as he brushed the dust and dirty off Thunder. "Only I can approach my horse. There's a certain way I want hem saddled up…and they don't do it right.  They make Thunder uncomfortable—don't' they, big guy?" he patted thunder on the ribs and walked to Carrie. "Come on, I'll take you inside.  We'll make you something."

The little cook was very sweet and made lunch for the two of them.  Tom's parents, however, were surprised to see Tom talking to a girl they never seen before.  Carrie could hear them talking to each other in the next room.

"Who is that?" she heard his mother say to his father.  "I never seen Tom with her before."

"Mother, Father?" Tom stood up. "Come here. I want you to meet someone."

Tom's parents cleared their throats and stepped inside, putting on their most polite faces. 

"Mother, Father—this is Carrie."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Riddle. Mrs. Riddle."

"Pleasure," said Mrs. Riddle lightly. She had black hair to her shoulders and brown eyes.  Mr. Riddle had brown hair and grassy green eyes, the same as Tom's.

She cleared her throat and nodded to Tom, "Tom…could you come here please?"

"Mother—I have a guest," he mumbled.

"Now, Tom," she hissed.

"Excuse me, Carrie," said Tom, walking out of the dining room.  He closed the doors and talked to his parents so Carrie wouldn't hear. But she heard everything that went on.  They did not know Carrie was a witch.

"Tom, where did you find this girl?" his father demanded. "She's not from the school."

"That's because I go to an all boy school, father," Tom said sternly.  "If you come to watch me play polo, you would know that."

"Watch your tone."

"She doesn't like anyone I know," said his mother. "We know all your friends and their sisters—everyone talk to. Where did she come from?"

"Mother—you're speaking as if she's a witch or something!" Tom exclaimed and Carrie flinched.  If only they knew the truth.

"Her dress looks cheap," said her mother.  "I think she got it from a second hand store."

"It's a sundress!" he exclaimed. "And it's clean.  For heaven's sake, mother, she's not wearing rags.  Didn't you notice how beautiful she is?"

"Does she have money?" her father asked.

"Father, what are you playing at? All I did was take her for a ride.  I saw her while I was playing polo with my friends.  She never was a horse before so I took her for a ride. Where's the harm in that?"

Carrie heard enough. She closed her eyes and disaparated right on the spot.  When Tom was done hashing this with his parents, he went inside and found her gone.

"Carrie? Where are you?" he asked.  "Hello?  Great work!" he cried at his parents. "I think she heard you. You offended her.  I hope you're happy. I probably wont' see her again!"

"Well good," said her mother, "because we don't want you to."

--

Tom Riddle spent days thinking about Carrie Star.  He wondered if he ever saw her again.  When his friends asked him how far he got with the pretty blond girl, Tom told them she left before even got around to it.

"My parents were talking about her," he muttered.  "She probably heard us talking and left."

"And you never seen her again after that?"

"No," said Tom.  "And it's making me crazy.  I can't get her out of my head."

"You've tried looking for you, haven't you?"

"Of course I have!" Tom barked. "I've looked everywhere in town.  I've asked everyone but no one seems to know her."

"She's probably not even from here," said another friend.  "Little Hangleton is a small town, Tom.  Everyone here knows everybody pretty much. You'll have to go outside of town to look for her.  Maybe all the way to London."

"All right," Tom answered. "I'll just keep looking for her.  I'm not going to stop until I found her."

"You're really hung up on her, aren't you?" asked Tom's friend with a grin.

"I barely even know Carrie," Tom said.  "But I can't stop thinking about her.  She's so mysterious, that's what I like about her.  I've got to find her or I'll—I'll go mad."

As for Carrie, she also couldn't stop thinking about Tom.  She spent all her time writing about him in her journal, his eyes, hair, handsome face and tall physique. She'd do anything to see him again.

Carrie left her journal lying on her bed, open as she went downstairs to get a drink.  Her father worked in the Disposal of Magical Creatures Department at the Ministry of Magic and he worked there long hours.   He came home early to check up on her. He apparated next to her room.

"I'm home, Carrie," he said, "Carrie?"

He stepped inside her room and picked up her diary. He couldn't' believe what he was reading.

 I can't get him out of my head.  None of boys were like him. I don't care if Tom is a muggle.  I feel myself falling in love with him.  He is so handsome.  He's not like the boys at Hogwarts.  I wanted to meet a muggle boy so I could learn more about muggles.  I could never find a boy at Hogwarts I could feel so comfortable with like I am with Tom.

Carrie walked back in her room and screamed when she found her father reading her diary.  "Daddy, no! Put that down!"

Marvolo Star turned around, shaking the diary.  "Is this true? You went searching for a muggle boy?  Now you're in love with one?"

"Yes."

"Haven't I taught you anything?" he demanded. "I told you to find a boy at Hogwarts, one who knows magic, like Darien Malfoy. That boy has offered you to visit him at his house and each year you turn him down. He's the right kind of boy for you!"

"I don't like Darien, Father!" she shrieked.  "I've never liked him. He would never leave me alone when I went to Hogwarts. He would always follow me around.  I don't want to be with him.  I hate him! I'm in love with a muggle and I don't care if you like it or not!"

Marvolo threw the diary at her.  "Does this muggle know you're witch, Carrie?"

"No," she answered. "I haven't told him."

He laughed.  "And if you tell him, do you know what will happen? He will leave you Carrie."

"No he won't!" she exclaimed. "You don't even know him."

"Do you know him, Carrie?" Marvolo demanded.  "Ask yourself. Do you really know this muggle boy?"

"Y-yes," she said. 

"How well? Do you know if he likes magic?"

"I don't care," she muttered. "I love him!  I want to be with him."

"You're a witch! He's a muggle!" her father roared. "You don't belong together!  It's been that way for centuries. Muggles cannot live with the magical.  It's the truth."

"I don't believe you," Carrie grumbled.  "I don't believe you at all!"

"You will marry Darien Malfoy," her father said. "I know what's best for you!"

"You can't make me!" she grabbed her wand and pointed it at her father. "I'm sorry, Father, but I will marry this boy.  I don't' care what you or anyone else thinks. I'm not going to let you blab this to anyone so you can lock me in St. Mungos for loving a muggle. It's my life!"

"Put the wand down, Carrie," he said.

"You're not going to ruin this for me, Father," she hissed. "For the first time in my life I'm happy! You will regret this!  You're going to St. Mungos. You're the on who's going to pay. Have you forgotten you hadn't married a real witch, Father? You let yourself be seduced by a veela and you think you can make me pay for your mistakes.  You want me to marry a real wizard to make you look good. It's always been about you! You never cared about what I wanted!

"Carrie, that's not true."

Carrie held her wand straight.  "No one will ever know this."

"You'll kill your own Father, Carrie?" he asked.

"No, Father," she answered. "If they caught me I'll end up in Azkaban. There are worse things than death you know.  I'm sorry, Father, I wish you could understand, but since you don't, you leave me no other choice.  Obliterate!"

Marvolo flew back and hit the wall. His whole memory was zapped away.  Carrie bent down and picked up her diary. 

"No one will ever know about this," said Carrie.  "No one will ever find me. Goodbye, Father."

Carrie disaparated and searched for the muggle boy who stole her heart.  She went back to the place she first saw him playing polo. His friends were there but she couldn't' see him.

"Where's Tom?" she asked.

"You just missed him," said his friend. "He's taking the train to London."

"London?"

"Yeah—he's been looking for you—where've you been all this time?"

"I have to go," she said.  "Thank you."

"Hey, you'll never reach him in time," Tom's friend said, waving his hand impatiently, "the train will leave soon."

Carrie went around the bleachers and disaparated.

"Hey—where'd she go? It's like she just disappeared!"

Carrie searched the train station for him. She saw him about to board the train.

"Tom! Tom! Wait!"

"Carrie?" he asked, turning.  "Carrie!" he pushed through the crowd of people and ran to her.  "I was just about to go to London so I can look for you. Where've you been? I've searched Little Hangleton all over trying to find you. I couldn't get you out of my head!"

"I know," she said, "I've been thinking about you too."

"You heard my parents talking about you," he said, "didn't you?"

"Yes," she answered.  "I did. That's why I left."

"None of that matters now," he said. "I ran away. I told them I loved you and I didn't care what they thought.  Carrie, let's run away together."

"Really?"

"Yes. Let's get married."

Carrie smiled and threw her arms around him.  "Yes. I'll run away with you! I love you, Tom Riddle. All I want it is to be with you."

Tom smiled, cupped her face and kissed her thoroughly on the mouth.

Carrie Star, a witch, ran away with a muggle boy named Tom Riddle.  They lived in Tom's coattage with a stable.  Carrie got pregnant with a son and while Tom was brushing a horse, a snake slithered into the stable and spooked the horse. Tom tried to get the horse under control and Carrie found herself walking to the snake and hissing and spitting at it.

"Get out of here," she said, or she at least thought she said.  "Get out of the stables." The snake looked up at her, she repeated what she said and it slithered back out.

Tom gasped and looked at Carrie in shock.  "Carrie? How did you—what did you do?"

Carrie closed her eyes and sighed.  "I never told you the truth about me."

"What truth?"

"This will…be quite a shock," she said.  "But…Tom I'm…a witch.  I can speak to snakes—it's a gift I've been born with.   A little trick my father taught me. At my magic school, I got an Inner Eye Award. I know a lot about divination. That was my best subject.  I used snakes as a sort of divination study."

"I don't believe this," Tom muttered, shaking his head.  "Why...why didn't you tell me this before?  You didn't think I wouldn't find out what you really are?  Carrie, how could you?  I have never liked magic!  Now I learn that my wife is a witch!"

"I didn't know how to tell you," she said.  "I wanted to be an ordinary girl. I wanted to know what it is like.  Please try to understand, Tom.  You're not like the boys I knew when I went to the magic school."

"Oh, so there's a school for people like you?" he demanded.

"Tom, please…"

"My parents were right," he said, "they told me you weren't good enough for me.  They said something was wrong about you.  You are a witch!  I'm not going to live with a witch anymore."

"Tom, no! Don't leave me!"

"You should've thought of that before you ran off with me," Tom muttered.

"Tom, we're going to have a son together," she said, "You and me.  We can raise him together."

"What if this boy is—this boy is like you?" he demanded. "I'm not going to be the father of a freak! A freak like you! I'm leaving!" He turned to walk out of the stables but the door slid shut. "Carrie, that's enough.  Let me go.  If you really can see through the future, you shouldn't known this would have happened."

"Don't you walk out on me, Tom Riddle!" she screamed, her curly golden blond hair with silver streaks were flying around her head. 

Tom spun around and backed up into the wall in fear.  Carrie suddenly looked ugly, scary.  Her brown eyes had a hint of red in them.

"You walk away from me," she said, "and you will die."

"You'll come and kill me, Carrie?" he asked challengingly.

"Not me, but your son," Carrie replied.  "He will come and kill you for abandoning us.  He'll come after you."

"Because you'll tell him, won't you?" he inquired.

"I won't have to.  Because I'm going to die giving birth to him." She said. "I'll die of a broken heart because you left me.  When our son is older, around the age of sixteen, he will come and kill you.  But if you stay, with me, you will live."

"You're making this up," he said.  "You're doing this to scare me."

"No, it's true," she said.  "You leave and our son will kill you.  If you wish to stay alive, you must stay with me."

"I don't believe you," he tried to open the door. "I don't believe you. Let me go!"

"I'm going to name our son after you," she said, "and my father.  Our son, Tom Marvolo Riddle, will come for you, and he'll kill you."

"Don't you name that freak after me!" he shouted. I don't want him having my name!"

"I will name our son after you," she said, "whether you stay or leave.  He'll carry your name whether you like it or not.  He has to know his father somehow."

"Let me go, Carrie."  He said. "I'm not going to stay with you any more. You're not the girl I thought you were."

"Very well, you want to leave?" she demanded. "Then go!  But mark my words, Tom Riddle, our son will come and kill you for this.  You cannot hide from the greatest wizard of all—the Heir of Slytherin!"

--End Carrie's Past—

"That's not real," said Tom, shaking his head.  "You showed me this to scare me."

"Oh, it's true, half-blood," he said. "That is how your mother met your father…how your father left you.  How odd you carry your father's name, when he didn't want to be your father, and your grand father's name, when he didn't want to be your mother's father."

"I don't believe this," Tom said.

"Your mother knew you would become me," said the dark Wizard. "She predicted this would happen.  So you can't hide from it now. She predicted you will go and kill your father—and that's exactly what you're going to do."

"I won't kill my father," Tom muttered.  "I carry his name."

"But aren't you angry for him for what he did, half-blood?" he inquired.  "Don't you want to do something to make him pay?"

"Yes, I am angry," Tom admitted, "but I'm not mad enough to kill him."

"Your grandfather disowned your mother because she disgraced the name of witch," he said, "letting herself fall in love with a muggle, when she could've had someone better. Someone like Darien Malfoy."

"She must've had a good reason for wanting to be with a muggle," Tom said. "She was probably curious about the muggle world."

"Yes, that's probably true," said the wizard, laughing. "She learned more than she bargained for, wouldn't you say?"

--

Tom woke up and raised his troubled head.  Quietly, he walked downstairs for a glass of water.  He wished the dreams would stop. He wondered if he should see a physiatrist but how would they understand?  How could he lie on a coach and tell someone he doesn't know, probably a muggle that doesn't know a thing about magic, tell him that he's having nightmares about a monster he will someday become?  He will probably be locked up in a loony bin for the rest of his life. 

A school owl came with the post.  It carried only one letter with a list of items he would need for his fourth year. Sarah did not get one. Tom felt bad for her.  She'd be waking up soon and how could he tell her she wouldn't be coming to Hogwarts with him?  He didn't want to leave her behind another year.  Maybe if he wrote a fake letter saying she was accepted to Hogwarts, it will help her feel better.

Why couldn't Sarah be a witch?  She wanted to be one so bad.  It wasn't fair to little Sarah.  Tom felt that if she could go to Hogwarts, she would be in Hufflepuff house.  She certainly reminded him of a Hufflepuff.  She was very sweet and loyal and just.  She had the voice of a bell, just like Helga Hufflepuff.  Tom thought that she could be the Heir of Hufflepuff.  Sarah couldn't' be a muggle, could she?  Maybe her father was a muggle but no one knew about her family. Maybe her mother was a witch and she had brothers and sisters that were wizards and witches and perhaps Sarah was a squib, having no powers of her own.

Sarah walked down the steps.  "Good morning, Tom," she said brightly.  "Is that your Hogwarts letter?"

"Yes."

"Did I—did I get one too?" she asked hopefully.

Tom pressed his lips together.  He couldn't bring himself to tell her no so he shook his head slightly.

"I didn't?"

"I'm sorry, Sarah," said Tom.  "You didn't get a letter."

"Oh," Sarah sat down across from him.  "I guess, I'm not a witch then."

"Don't be sad, Sarah," Tom told her.  "Maybe your mother was a witch.  Did she ever use magic? Do you remember?"

"No," she answered. "I don't remember my mother very much. She worked a lot and she just left me home with a babysitter."

"Where did she work?" Tom inquired.

"I think she was a waitress," she said. "I can't remember where though.  She had a lot jobs. I think she was working more than one."

"Do you know any of your family?" he asked. "Any aunts or uncles? Grandparents?  Sarah, try to remember."

"I can't remember any from my father's side," she explained. "My mother had a brother though.  I remember seeing him wear a dress one time...but he told me they were robes."

 Tom grinned.  "Yes, they are robes, Sarah, but they do look like dresses, don't they?"

"Yeah. I think so."  She said. "And his wife—my aunt—she was the same too. She was kind of funny. Strange things happened when they were around. They weren't at my mother's funeral, but I remember this bluebird being there."

"Sarah, do you remember your mum's maiden name?  The name she had before she was married?"

Sarah shook her head.

"She kept your father's name, right?"

"Yeah.  I think she thought she'd always come back to see me.  I do remember a bit about my father. I remember him fighting with my mother and he left one day."

"I'm sorry, Sarah."

"I don't know why he left," said Sarah.  "I think because he wanted a boy instead of a girl."

"That's a horrible reason for him to leave," Tom muttered. 

"Maybe he would've stayed if I was a boy," Sarah said sadly. 

"Sarah, don't say that," Tom said, taking her hand.  "It's not your fault."

"Maybe my dad will come back for me," she shrugged.  "I think he had something important to do."

"I think I know why your father left," Tom said slowly.

"Why?"

"The same reason why my father left," Tom answered. "Because our mothers were both witches.  You're a halfblood like me, Sarah, only you don't have any magical powers of your own.  That's why you are a squib.  Your mother was a witch. Your aunt was a witch and your uncle was a wizard. See, you do have family, but the police didn't know that.  Know why? Because magical people live in different places, far from muggles.  Your mother's muggle friends didn't know she was a witch.  She didn't tell them."

Sarah nodded. "Well, is there a way I can become a witch, Tom? So I can do magic too?"

"I remember reading something about a Kwikspell Course at school," he said.  "I can look in it for you."

"Oh, Tom, will you?"

Tom shrugged. "Sure."

Sarah gasped, got up and threw her arms around him. "Oh, thank you, Tom!"

Tom smiled and blushed, closing his eyes in slight embarrassment.  "Well, the least I could to, Sarah."

Sarah kissed him on the cheek. "You're the best, Tom!"

--

Feeling he didn't need it anymore, Tom sold his Oakshaft 79 at the same place he bought it to buy his new books and sold his Divination and Care of Magical Creatures book at a second hand bookshop for more money.  The money in his vault was getting quite low. 

"Kwikspell course," Tom mumbled, looking at the books, "Kwikspell, Kwikspell—er—excuse me—sir?  Is there something here on Kwikspell courses?"

"You thinking of enrolling in one?" asked the manager, looking him over. "You look like a capable wizard to me, son—already in your Hogwarts robes."

Tom smiled and cleared his throat. "No, it's not for me.  It's for a friend. You see, sir, she's a squib.  I want to send her the Kwikspell Course. She can study it on her own, right?"

"Well, sure," he said, scratching his chin, "I think we do have something here. Just a moment—let's see here--,"the manager searched around for a book. "Here we go.  This is our little pamphlet for the Kwikspell Course."

"Kwikspell Course, Tom?" Alaric asked, walking inside the bookstore. "You don't need that! You're great enough as it is."

"It's not for me, Alaric," Tom answered. "I know a squib at the orphanage."

"There's a squib at your orphanage?"
"Yeah. She's a very sweet girl.  She's sad she can't go to Hogwarts though."
"Tom, why waste your time?" Alaric asked. "If she hasn't any magical powers then why bother?  Think of yourself."

Tom narrowed his eyes.  "I'll see you on the train, Alaric.  You don't want your father to see us." He looked back at the manager.  "How much for the pamphlet, sir?"

"Five sickles."

"All right," Tom reached into his pocket and paid five sickles for pamphlet.  He walked outside looking at it.  The Kwikspell Course would be a helpful way for Sarah to learn magic and then maybe she could come to Hogwarts to learn on her own.  But could there be a way he could speed the process up faster?

--

Before Tom left for his fourth year at Hogwarts, he handed Sarah the purple and silver envelope.

"This is your Kwikspell Course," he said. "You can study that while I'm gone and you can look at my Standard Book of Spells Grade 1 if you want.  I won't need it anymore.  Next year, I can buy you a wand. I'm sorry; I didn't have enough money now.  I spent almost all I had on the course for you."

Sarah looked up at him, grinned and threw her arms around him.  "Oh Tom!"  She couldn't express her feelings into words.  "I'll try very hard.  I promise.  I'll see you when we get back and then you could get a wand for me.  Thank you, Tom!"

Sarah kissed him on the cheek, he kissed her back and he left the orphanage. Sarah ran back up to her room and read over the Kwikspell Course.  Perhaps it wasn't the same as going to Hogwarts to be with Tom, but it was the next best thing.

To Be Continued