After dinner, Gabe and Billy took Harry back to their room, and helped him get ready for bed. There was one problem however, there were only two beds. One for Gabe, the other was Billy's. So, Harry had to sleep with one of them.

"I'd offer, but there's hardly enough room for myself," Gabe spoke, rubbing his head sheepishly. "You'd be able to share with Billy, but he kicks in his sleep."

"Do not!" The blond boy snapped good-naturally, his tone implying that no malice was intended. Gabriel ignored him, in favor of talking to their roommate.

"You can decide, or we can see if we can make the floor comfortable for you if you'd rather chose that as a last resort."

Harry shook his head, smiling up at the two bigger boys. "No, I can take care of it myself. You two go to sleep, and I'll figure out what I need to do."

After some hesitation, Gabe and Billy went to bed, saying good night before both falling fast asleep within seconds. Harry glanced around before deciding to just lay down on the floor in the middle of the room, since he was unable to find blankets or anything else to shield his body from the hard wooden panels of the floor.

The thin boy lay on his back, staring at the ceiling with calm, slightly dazed and detached emerald eyes. He supposed that so far, life at the orphanage didn't seem that bad. It was better than the Dursley's at least. None of the other children seemed to be beaten or neglected. It was obvious the adults tried to feed them all, despite the strict, cold, and cruel first impression the place had made on the young boy.

Thoughts of that one boy, the one that had been far to beautiful to be human, flashed to Harry's mind. It seemed that that "Tom" was singled out from the rest. While the other children were treated with some level of care, much more than Harry was used to at least, Tom seemed to be in what Harry's position had been until just two days ago.

Harry turned on his side, the wood that had been digging into his spine being relieved from his discomfort some.

Would he be treated the same as Tom if the others at the orphanage found out that he was a freak too? Would he be placed from one family that ignored, beat, and starved him to a horde of strangers that ignored, beat, and starved him all over again? Would Billy look at Harry with the same disgust and fear that he did with Tom? Would Gabriel flinch with horror and fright like he had in the line for dinner that night?

Harry decided that no, he would not let that happen. He would hide what he could do. How he could talk to snakes, how he could teleport onto roofs, how he could make his hair grow back overnight. Everything. Everything would remain hidden, and therefor he would remain safe. Tom could flaunt his ability and deal with everything that came with it. Harry had been given a chance at a new life, and he wasn't going to waste it.

That was another thing that Harry decided. Why should he have to figure out how to go back? Why should he force himself to go back to a family, if they could even be called that, that would treat him so horribly? There was a reason he felt the need to send himself here, and he had realized looking at Tom that he shouldn't place himself in that position. For the first time in his life, he had friends. For the first time in his life, someone would look after him properly. Why should he have to give that up? Because he was from the future and didn't belong?

No, he'd make a spot for himself in this new life. Harry James Potter would be someone. Someone worthwhile. Someone to give a care about. He'd have a decent life. And no one, no one, would keep that from him.

Not even a certain brash headed (in Harry's opinion anyway) boy named Tom Marvello Riddle.


The next morning, the three boys woke up, and Harry borrowed some of Billy's clothes, since they were closer in size than Gabriel was to Harry. So, Harry soon found himself wearing an old white button up shirt and dark brown pants that stopped just below his knees, along with some white socks to cover the rest of his legs. Harry felt a little over dressed, but Billy assured him that it was just normal clothes, and a lot more was added to the outfit if he needed to dress up.

Harry went down the stairs for breakfast, walking behind Gabe and Billy who were conversing adamantly, something about a prank involving a sack of flour and raw egg that Billy was planning. Just for fun, of course. Gabe was joking with Billy, at the same time trying to talk him out of it. Harry could see hidden fear in the larger boy's eyes, and he wondered why the boy would be so afraid of this prank. It sounded harmless enough.

It was only when a cloud of floor drifted down the stairs from the upper hallway that Harry made the connection.

Covered in flour, clear and yellow slime dripping down from the small boy's head and making the flour stick to him. The murderous glare from narrowed, dark eyes, even the long lashes covered in flour. The boy's finely put together clothes now ruined and stained from the egg. The already pale skin, covered in the fine powder, made the boy look like a ghost, even as he slowly descended the steps. Harry swore that Tom didn't even make a sound, not even the stairs, which had creaked loudly under the other children's footsteps, could quake under the furious boy who was taking slow, precise steps, headed straight for the other three boys.

When Tom had come a few feet away from Billy, he kept his seething eyes on the blond. He spoke in a quiet, deceptively calm voice as his fist clenched.

"I had planned to try and be pleasant today, but it seems that will never be possible. Not as long as you are here..." Tom sighed, and gazed pitifully down on Billy. "Well, I'm going to go wash up, Harry, tell Mrs. Cole that I'll be down in a few minutes, will you?"

Harry jumped slightly, shocked to be suddenly addressed, much less asked anything from the other "freak." On instinct, he stuttered an affirmative, and Tom turned away, heading back upstairs just as silently as he came down. Harry could swear he saw a smirk raise the corner of the deceptive boy's mouth, a strange and implacable gleam in his eyes before he turned away.

Billy and Gabriel shook out of their frightened stupor, and shook Harry until he turned his gaze to them.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Gabriel placed a hand on Harry's back as Billy had gripped his shoulders, silent worry but relief in his cow brown eyes.

"What did he do to you!?" Billy asked urgently, fear and worry swirling in his eyes.

"I-I'm fine..." Harry forced out, looking between the two of them, "honest."

"You don't have to do what he says, Harry!" Billy shook the boy slightly again, looking intently into the smaller boy's bright green eyes. Harry forced a smile, and waved his hands.

"No, no. I agreed to tell her, so I will. Besides, he didn't force me or anything. It's not like I'm doing much anyway..." the boy skillfully slipped out of Billy's grip, and bounced down the rest of the stairs. "She's in that office you two told me about, right? Don't worry, I can go there myself." Harry waved as the two others struggled to protest, but before they could say anything, Harry was already around the corner, and headed to the last door on the right.

He breathed in and out slowly before knocking on the door. Soon, Mrs. Cole opened the door, and she glared down at the small child. After having seen Tom's, Harry wasn't as scared as he might have been otherwise, and simply turned up his angelic smile.

"What is it you want, Potter?" Mrs. Cole growled out from clenched teeth, and the smell of alcohol drifted into Harry's nose, causing his eyes to widen. A sweat of fear and nervousness broke out on his forehead. The small boy took a small step back, and forced his smile to remain, even though he knew it was strained and twitching.

"Nothing. Ma'am. It's just that Tom got into a small accident, and he told me to let you know he would be a little late for breakfast."

The woman groaned, and snatched Harry's arm, gripping it tightly as she dragged him down the hallway after her. Harry yelped as his eyes widened, pain lacing up his arm as he was forced to follow her. Flashes of his uncle dragging him into the cupboard nearly every night flew in front of his vision, and Harry started tearing up. From the physical pain or the memories, the boy didn't know, and frankly, he couldn't care less.

"M-Mrs. Cole! Please, l-let me go!" But his protests fell on deaf ears, and he was dragged up into the bathroom that all the orphans shared.

"Boy!" The woman screeched, and Harry flinched, yet again his first thought being that they were talking about him.

"Yes?" The calm, quiet response came from behind them, the tone innocent in it's questioning. Mrs. Cole whirled around to face Tom, Harry crying out slightly as he was spun around as well. Bright emerald eyes widened as his gaze found the other boy.

Tom had obviously cleaned up, the flour was gone, and he was wearing different clothes. But his hair was dry, and his eyes were dazed slightly, making him look extremely tired, like he just woke up.

"What do you think you've been doing, you little devil?" The woman spat out the words, and Harry flinched from the harsh tone, starting to shake.

"I don't know what you're speaking of, Mrs. Cole," Tom replied evenly, his eyes widening in angelic innocence, his brow furrowed only slightly in minor confusion.

"This here boy," the warden lifted Harry up by the arm, and the small boy let out a small whimper, "says that you 'got in an accident.' Are you going to blame one of the other children for you being late for breakfast? Trying to get out of chores?"

"No, Missus. I was just going down, then I heard you calling my name." Tom blinked slowly, and glanced at Harry. For a split second, something glinted in those dark eyes. Amusement? Pity? Mirth? Was Tom enjoying seeing Harry in this position? But as soon as it appeared, it was gone, replaced with what Harry was now realizing with horror dawning on his features as complete false innocence.

"Oh...?" Mrs. Cole turned to Harry, the word drawing out on her tongue as her eyes glinted in malicious pleasure. Harry's own eyes widened further in fear as he gazed back up at the woman. Out of his peripheral vision he saw Tom smirk for a second before replacing it with a slight frown that hid all trace of thought and emotion. "It seems you've been a very bad boy, Potter."

Harry tried to jerk away, but Mrs. Cole's grip only tightened, causing the bright eyed boy to whimper again in pain. The warden dragged him forward out through the door, along the way grabbing Tom's arm in an equally tight hold, and pulled both boys down the hall in each hand.

Tom, unlike Harry, didn't give any indication that Mrs. Cole was hurting him. In fact, he looked perfectly calm and comfortable. He simply let himself be dragged, his limbs loose and unresisting. Harry, however, was struggling all the way, crying out and wincing from the pain. Through tear blurred eyes, Harry made eye contact with Tom's dark ones. But Harry could not see any emotion in the other boy's eyes, his face a mask of indifference.

Mrs. Cole walked down the hall, past the room that Harry shared with Gabe and Billy, and opened the only other door at the end of the hall. It was the one Harry had assumed lead to the attic, and indeed, the door lead to a set of cheap steps. The air smelled musty, though oddly enough there was no access of dust or cobwebs.

But Harry didn't have time to realize that as he was thrown against the bare wood planks forming the steps. His hands stung where he had thrown them out in front of him by instinct and grew an angry red. Harry barely was able to let out another pitiful whimper before the body of another person was thrown against him, and he was crushed against the sharp edges of the planks. Harry could swear that he got splinters from his hands and face being forced onto the unsanded wood.

The light from the hallway quickly became narrower as the warden closed the door. Tom let out a small, almost silent groan and Harry's eyes widened in fear as he heard the door being locked.

"Wait! What are you doing!?" Harry struggled to get out from under Tom, and the dark eyed boy floundered around for a few short seconds before jumping off of Harry, pressing against the wall. Harry could feel those dark eyes narrow into slits and glare at the back of his head as he threw himself at the door, banging at it with his fist, wide emerald eyes staring up at the blockade. "Let me out! Please, let me out!"

He was back in the cupboard, trapped in a too small space with no way out, at the mercy and whim of the only person who held the key to his escape. Harry's eyes widened further in realization as he slowly turned his head to gaze at the dark eyed boy still glaring at him from his spot on the steps.

No, he wasn't alone.

Tom shrugged off the wall, and stepped down the steps, just as silent as he had been earlier that morning. Since there was not much level ground below the set of stairs, Tom was easily right in front of Harry when he reached the bottom, their faces just a few inches apart.

His dark eyes were still narrowed in a deathly glare, hate and something like a pitying anger, maybe irritation, was swirling in his eyes. His long, almost feminine eyelashes fluttered when he blinked, and Harry could see now that Tom's eyes were actually green. You could only tell if you were close in proximity to him, and Harry felt like if he took his eyes away from them Tom would be able to lash out and do something unspeakably evil. Tom's voice was quiet, nearly a whisper as he spoke, the emotions in his eyes calming down and hiding in that unreadable mask again.

"You're rather pathetic, aren't you?"

"What...?" Harry could barely keep himself from stuttering, still unable to take his eyes away.

"Always crying and begging for help. No one will lift a finger for you. Not here, not in this world. Not even those two that you probably started calling 'friends.'"

Harry's eyes blazed in indignation and fury for Billy and Gabe, and his own green eyes narrowed into a glare of his own. It could never compare to Tom's always cool, relaxed but quietly seething and killing gaze. Like he was always pondering how to best slaughter all of the humans around him.

"They are! What would you know about it!?"

Tom chuckled softly, placing his hands on either side of Harry's head.

"I don't need to know anything. I already know about those two, and they're not really your friends. They just like to say that to all of the orphans. And do you know why?"

Harry quaked at the words. He had never had friends. All of the children in his school seemed to think he didn't exist. And Dudley never helped matters. He didn't know what made people friends, and had been so happy when he started to think that maybe, just maybe, he finally had managed it. People who he could talk to and enjoy spending time with. But what if whatever Tom knew was true? Had Gabe and Billy been using him? Really?

But Tom continued, smirking as he saw he had planted the seed of doubt. Now to finish it.

"Humans are selfish creatures, Harry. They attach themselves to others with kind words and promises, but really don't mean it. They're parasites. Billy and Gabriel are no different."

Harry slowly slid down the door, his mind fighting with itself. He knew it wasn't true. It didn't make much sense in Harry's mind, he knew that. But his mind was accepting it at the same time, somehow. There was a huge gap in what Tom was saying somewhere, but it was almost like it didn't exist.

Harry's eyes closed unknowingly, and he felt a slender hand cup his cheek. He could sense the warmth of another body come even closer, making contact in several places. Smelt an indescribable scent of cold soil, dark herbs, and... birch? Heard Tom's soft, but oh-so deceptively kind voice whisper in his ear.

"So pitiful..." Tom's smirk widened a little, and his eyes were full of pleased happiness as he glanced at the other boy. He was only able to see his wild black hair, but was able to imagine the sort of expression the thinner boy had, and loving it. "But then again, you're just the same, aren't you?"

Harry might have not been alone on those steps, but he was starting to suspect that it wasn't Mrs. Cole that held his fate.

It was the cruel, evil, insidious demon in boy's skin that he was trapped with that was really the one who was pulling the strings in this place.

And it had found a new plaything.

AN: Err... hello...? Nice weather we're having... oh, it's cloudy where you are? Oh, um... that's nice...

Okay, I really am sorry that I took nearly the whole school year to write this. And apparently my chapters are really short anyway. Sorry about that. Sophomore year is a lot more hectic than freshman was. I know that's no excuse, but I couldn't find the time. And I wasn't sure how I wanted to do this chapter, so I had a lot of scrapped pieces.

Thank you for any of you that decided to stick around, and I apologize to those that gave up on this story. *Bows.*