Hey, everyone! Glad you've enjoyed my story so far. As I said before, it's loosely based on the musical Wicked. Mainly the concept of the story behind a villain, and a friend to guide them along unintentionally.

DISCLAIMER: Oooh, let's see, what doesn't Holly own? She still doesn't own Dhani Harrison, son of George, in case you're wondering... She also doesn't own Ricky Ullman, who is her latest flame but isn't interested to learn more about him. He's not cool enough yet. He's not- oh, right, back to the disclaimer. JK owns Harry Potter. Michael Jackson (damn him) owns the Beatles songbook(leased to Sony and such). I do own Johanna Finch and a few other characters. (Switching to first person.)

Tom only blinked. Why tonight, of all nights, was he thinking about this? About her? He loved her name. Johanna. He could say it again and again and again…

"Hi! My name's Johanna Finch," the little girl grinned. Both front teeth were missing, and she had a lisp. "What's your name?"

"Tom. Tom Riddle," the little boy solemnly said. "How old are you?"

"Seven. Nearly eight! I'll be eight in a month."

"I'm older than you! I'll be eight in two weeks."

"No fair." The little girl pouted for a moment, then brightened up. "Hey, look! They've got toy broomsticks! Do you want to play?"

"Toy broomsticks?"

"You've never heard of them?"

"No!"

Johanna seemed incredulous; she, after all, had been raised to play on these things. They were most likely her favorite toy. Still, it wasn't fair to leave him in the dark. She told him she'd show him, and he agreed. Why was he so sad looking? He looked like he was about to cry!

"Are you sad, Tom?" she asked. "Hey, can I call you Tommy?"

"Er- okay," he agreed. "And well, I think…I'm lost! I was in the park with-" he stopped. "- with my friends and I sort of was walking around and and…I'm lost."

"Oh. I think I am, too." Her dark brown eyes were very serious. "I can't even find my daddy, and he was just here a moment ago!"

The pair chattered on for awhile, as she took his hand. What was this park? Tom hadn't seen this part before! The grass was even greener than before and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Even more, there were people wearing robes. Tom was starting to get scared. "Johanna-" he whimpered. "I'm scared."

"Scared? Why?" she laughed. "It'll be fun, wheee!" she exclaimed as she ran over to get a broomstick. Why was she riding a broomstick? That was silly. And it was weird. What was she doing?

"Come on, Tommy! It's fun!"

"Um." Tom began. He began to walk away. Where was Mrs. Mansfield? And Miss Aubersworth? Where were all of them? The other boys from the orphanage, they'd been on queue for the slide...

"TOM! Oh, Tom!" an old lady screamed. "There you are! I've been looking 'round all over for you, my dear! Come, come here!"

Tom walked slowly over only to be hugged by Mrs. Mansfield. She pulled away to look at him for a moment. "Dear, you're shaking. Why on earth?"

Mrs. Mansfield wasn't ever this nice. Ever. Tom didn't understand. He looked up.

"Hello-"

"Hello, young man. Have you seen my daughter? Perhaps you've played with her at some time. She likes to wander off; and she knows she shouldn't!" He chuckled. "But she's a little girl, just like you're a little boy, and you all tend to do that." He laughed some more, which elicited a fake laugh from Mrs. Mansfield.

"Oh, I'm sure he hasn't seen her- have you, Tommy, dear?" Tom frowned. Only one person had called her that, and it was the girl he'd just met. Johanna. He wanted to call her Jo. But that was just silliness. He didn't even know her! He silently scolded himself.

"Please, sir- what was her name?"

"You're a polite boy, aren't you? Her name's Johanna."

"Oh- she's over there. Past the purple slide, I think, sir."

"Thank you." He muttered 'broomsticks' under his breath. Mrs. Mansfield frowned.

"Tom, what on earth were you thinking? Going off like that! We could have lost you, and then look where you'd have been! No parents or a home, to boot! You ought to be more careful next time, boy."

"Yes, ma'm." He said quietly, looking at his feet.

Mrs. Mansfield softened. "We wouldn't want to lose you, anyway."

"Thank you, ma'm."

"Tommy! Tom!" he heard a voice from behind call. His breath was knocked out of him as something shorter than him wrapped his arms around his waist. "Tom! I was wondering why you ran off! I guess this is why…" Johanna's voice trailed off, looking up at the stern woman towering over both children. "I'm sorry, madam, I was just- happy to see him- we just met, you see, and I was hoping we could be friends-"

"I'm sure that could be in order," Johanna's father laughed. "We could all do for a little bit of happiness, considering what's going on in the Continent."

"In Germany? Oh, yes." Mrs. Mansfield replied. Both adults were unaware that they each meant entirely different things. Her voice took on a professional tone. "However, Tom and I really must get back to the orphanage, and I'm afraid it may not be possible."

Tom looked back apologetically as he cast an look at his new friend for not telling her. She only smiled back.

"Daddy, why can't I see him again?"

Johanna's father looked after. "I don't see why you can't."

"He's an unusually perceptive little boy, he hears a lot of things, I guess I should say," Mrs. Mansfield told Johanna's father. "It seems your little girl's rather intent on playing with our Tom."

"Yes, she won't stop talking about him. She calls him 'Tommy'. It's sweet, I think. Her mother got a real laugh out of it."

Mrs. Mansfield smiled. "Your girl's awfully lucky. Actually, so is Tommy. He's a good little boy but-"

"-But none of the other little boys seem to want to play with him." Jane Aubersworth cut in. "I've only been working here for a year, and I can see that." She cast a look at Mrs. Mansfield. What was she going to say about that little boy?

Johanna's father smiled.

All of this was seen from the eyes of Tom Riddle and Johanna Finch. This was the second time she'd come over to play, and Tom was happy. He finally had somebody that would at least talk to him! All the other boys teased him. Tom told Johanna this, feeling incredibly silly. She nodded with her dark, serious eyes, and patted his hand.

"Don't worry, Tommy. I'll always talk to you."

"Don't worry, Tommy. I'll always talk to you."

Those words now haunted Tom. Damn her, damn her! How could she be so wonderful and so right!

"Tom, Tom, what have you done?"

A memory came to him from nearly ten years after his previous one. He shut his eyes quickly. He wouldn't think of that now.

Perhaps the little Potter boy could wait. Wait, just one more night. For tonight was Tom's, and Tom's alone. For him to spend on his memories. On Johanna. Those dark eyes still haunted him.

Ah. Another chapter done! I have a very rough outline of where this story is going, unlike my other stories. My other Potter story, The Simple Joys, is just about dead. I haven't deleted it in case I find the strength to edit it so it's more canon-ish. Harry really should be more broody- he's grinning far too much in it. Anyway, okay, sorry, guys, I kind of got off topic. Anyway, I'm really hoping I'll get some more reviews!

dances the REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW dance that was cut from the Producers

Please?