Time Long Gone

Chapter I: Wool's Orphanage

Once a month, the children in Wool's orphanage would dress in their Sunday best and line up, pink cheeked and smiling in an effort to get adopted. This Sunday was no different, with the children scrambling to the entranceway every time the bell rang.

Tom used to be like them, eager to please the adults that came to visit, trying his best to be chosen. It always ended the same way though – inevitably Mrs Cole started to whisper in their ear, and then they would look at him with disgust or fear, and they never bothered to look or speak to him again. He stopped trying when he had turned four, and none of the staff ever bothered him to make the effort. Well, he didn't care. He knew that he was destined for greater things than any of his peers. When he was older, taller and stronger he would come back here and raze the building to the ground -

"Tom." He looked up, angry at being disturbed from his reading. Before him stood Mrs Cole, the matron of the orphanage. She was a stern lady, with greying hair that was always scooped back in a severe bun. She feared Tom and avoided him as much as possible, so what possible reason could she have for seeking him out?

"Yes, Mrs Cole?" Tom asked quietly, shutting the book he was reading. He had never been bothered before on adoption days, as he usually hid away in the orphanage's pathetically small library until it was dinnertime. He had read every book in the library a dozen times over, but it was better than doing nothing.

She looked pale and shaken, her voice wobbly. "A man is here to see you." Tom frowned as he got up to follow her. A man? Here to see him? His mind raced as he tried to think of anything that would warrant a visit from a policeman. No...he hadn't been into town for a few weeks now, although the last time he went he had stolen an apple...was that was this was?

All the other children were quite as they walked up the stairs to Mrs Cole's office, staring unashamedly at him. He glared back them, feeling hatred welling up inside him. None of the other children liked him, in fact no one seemed to. Tom wasn't sure why at first, sure he had been a little quiet but nothing that would invite bullying. They soon learned that Tom Riddle was not someone to pick on – he gave back just as good as he got. Most children now gave him a wide berth, although the whispers of 'freak' and 'devil's son' followed him continuously.

Tom didn't care though, he'd teach them all a lesson.

"Tom, this is Mr Potter." Mrs Cole introduced, taking a seat behind her desk. Tom quickly appraised the man standing before him. He wasn't quite sure of his age, although he was certainly the youngest adult to walk in through the doors. He had a kind enough face, with bright green eyes that Tom liked very much. He wished he could pluck them out from his head and keep them hidden in a jar, so that only he could look at them.

"Hello Mr Potter." Tom politely said, feeling a little more at ease due to the fact that the man clearly wasn't a police officer. He couldn't relax just yet though because he still didn't know why the man was here or what it had to do with him.

"Hello Tom," the man said, a strange smile twisting his lips. "I know this must all be rather strange, but I would like to adopt you." Tom froze, his face betraying some of his shock. Mr Potter wanted to adopt him? His eyes swivelled to Mrs Cole's who still looked faintly ill. Ah, she must have tried her usual tactics to dissuade Mr Potter from the idea, and it hadn't worked.

"Why?" Tom asked cautiously, although his heart betrayed his excitement. He couldn't help the way it sped up, it was so fast he was sure that everyone else in the room could hear it. But Tom was smart, he knew that adults were not to be trusted, no matter how kind they looked. They were all the same, they all ended up hating him anyway. Why would this one be any different?

"Mrs Cole told me your story, and I wanted to help." the man explained kindly, although something in the way his mouth kept twisting as he spoke, and the way his brows were furrowed with tension put Tom on high alert.

"Okay..." Tom paused, his throat dry. "Where do you live?"

"Hilldrop Estate. It's not far from here." the man paused too, an awkward silence filling the air. Tom turned to look at Mrs Cole again, unwilling to speak again.

She cleared her throat quietly, "Well Tom, do you want to go with Mr Potter?" she still seemed to be in shock, although Tom could tell that she was silently hoping he'd go and leave the orphanage.

Tom considered his options; he hated it at the orphanage with a passion – its grey walls, depressing atmosphere and the soul-crushing loneliness were enough to drive him mad. He let his dark eyes wander over Harry and decided that he seemed decent enough. Wasn't anything better than staying another day in this hellhole?

He nodded slowly, suddenly unable to speak. He couldn't help but let a trickle of excitement find its way into his eyes as he nodded more vigorously.

"Great." the man seemed relieved, and his face broke out into a small but seemingly genuine smile.

"Mr Potter, please follow Tom to his room where he'll pack his belongings," Mrs Cole stood up and shook hands with the young man, her face taut. "and good luck to you Mr Riddle." she sat back down, and watched as the strange young man and the even stranger young boy walked out of her office.

How odd, she thought to herself, lighting up a cigarette, he's so young and unmarried! What on earth does he want to do with an adopted child, let alone one as disturbed as Riddle? She decided to clear her mind of such thoughts, after all, she was glad that the devil child would be out of her care now. She wondered how long she'd have before he was sent back here.

XXX

Harry's hands hadn't sopped sweating the moment he'd stepped foot inside the orphanage. He felt so sorry for all the little faces that peered up at him hopefully, promising that they'd be good if he would just take them home with him. But Harry was on a mission, and he couldn't afford to be distracted by his soft heart.

He wasn't sure if Tom would agree to go with him, so he was feeling very relieved that the boy had said yes. He was now following behind him down the corridor to a row of identical doors. Tom sent him a sideways look quickly before entering the room. He held the door open for him, which Harry was pleasantly surprised at.

The room itself was a box which could barely fit the drab looking bed, wardrobe and desk. Harry felt pity for the young Dark Lord – he's not Voldemort yet! He chastised himself harshly. He couldn't continue to think like that if he was going to effect any change in the boy. Tom opened up the wardrobe and took out his Sunday best clothes and two objects; a dirty, ripped teddy bear and a shiny marble.

Harry could see Tom's cheeks burning, clearly embarrassed at his lack of belongings. But the boy jutted his chin out as if daring Harry to mock him. Harry knew all to well what it was like to have almost nothing, and could sympathise deeply with the child.

"I'm ready sir."

Harry blinked for a moment, uncomfortable with such a formal address. "You can all me Harry." he replied softly. Tom nodded but didn't say anything. "Is this...is this everything?" surely the orphanage would have provided toys or something for the children to own?

"Yes Mr Potter." Tom replied mutely. Disturbed by how un-childlike the boy behaved, Harry nodded and lead the way back to the front door. He was painfully aware of the whispers that followed them as they walked across the hall.

"Look, the freak's been adopted!"

"Doesn't matter, he'll be back before the weeks up." righteous anger gurned in Harry's chest – who could blame Tom Riddle for turning into a psychopath with such a tragic upbringing? The boy clearly had never experienced love, and was alone and friendless in this giant grey building. If Dementor's were buildings, Wool's Orphanage was the perfect example of how they'd look.

Harry realised he was walked ahead of Tom, so he waited until the small boy was next to him before grabbing his hand and marching onwards, just to shut up the children who were being so cruel so loudly. He could feel Tom startle at the contact, and although his hand was limp, Harry was sure that he appreciated the gesture.

"How old are you Tom?" Harry asked conversationally as they strolled down the street.

"Six sir." Tom replied quietly. Harry peered down at him, taken aback by how dark the boys eyes were. He swallowed his unease and nodded, at a loss for words.

"You won't need those." Harry paused next to a bin and took the only other clothing the child had out of his hands. He wrinkled his nose in distaste at the material – it was horribly itchy and cheap. Harry wouldn't want to be stuck wearing that all day either.

Tom's eyes darkened a little, but he said nothing. "We should get you some new clothes, I think." Harry muttered suddenly changing direction. He pulled Tom after him, his mind racing with ideas. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but he thought Tom would actually have clothes and toys, just any belongings rather than nothing. This meant they needed to take a detour and do some shopping.

"New clothes?" Tom asked hesitantly, his heart speeding up.

"Yes, new clothes and toys for your new life." Harry said gently, relaxing more. This Tom Riddle would grow up with love and would have someone to care for him. He wouldn't grow up to be Voldemort – Harry swore his magic on it. He would look after this little the boy the way he should have been from the beginning. He would give him the childhood that Harry himself had never had.

XXX

Tom glanced up at Harry uncertainly, unsure of where to start. He had never been taken shopping before, and he was nervous. Was Harry wealthy? He didn't look rich, but he definitely didn't look poor either. If Tom had to guess, he would say middle-upper class at best. Middle class at worst. He felt pleased that his caregiver was not poor.

"You can pick out whatever you'd like, and I'll help." Harry suggested gently. "Money isn't an issue, so please don't worry about that." Tom stole another glance up at the man, checking to see if he was being sincere. Harry smiled at him, although it didn't reach his eyes and seemed rather forced.

"Okay sir." Tom then proceeded to lead the way, picking out lovely shirts, trousers and shoes to try on. Before he knew it, two hours had passed and Harry was being weighed down with an inordinate amount of clothing. Tom was suddenly worried; would Harry be angry? What he'd picked out certainly wasn't cheap, but the man did say that money wasn't an issue...

He watched nervously as Harry dumped everything at the till, sending the cashier an apologetic smile.

"Growth spurt?" She asked warmly, directing her smile at Tom. "How lucky you are for your..." she looked at Harry uncertainly, "...older brother to buy you all these nice clothes!" Harry smiled awkwardly and didn't say anything.

Once she had rung up all the clothes, Harry handed two bags to Tom and then held the other four himself.

"Right, I think we should drop these off home and then go and get you some toys and books. How does that sound?" Harry asked. Tom once again nodded, still wary of talking too much. Harry wondered if he was always this silent. He hoped it would change once they got to know each other, he hated silences' like this – they reminded him too much of his time at the Dursley's and made him babble stupidly in order to ease the atmosphere.

"Yes sir." Tom responded dutifully. He would not reveal how excited he was, or how the word 'home' had made him feel weird in his chest. Revealing emotions betrayed your weaknesses and made you look foolish, Tom had learnt that already thanks to the orphanage. Don't hope for anything and you won't get disappointed.

XXX

The rest of the day passed rather wonderfully or Tom, although he would never tell Mr Potter that little fact. The older man insisted on getting Tom a variety of stupid toys, even though Tom had quietly said he would much prefer some books to read. Harry, rather surprised but nonetheless pleased, then took him to three different book stores.

Tom was in heaven.

He stayed away from the childish baby books and instead picked up as many knowledge building books as he could fit in his small arms. Harry had chuckled upon seeing how many books Tom had picked, and he'd even heard him murmur about someone called Hermione – although he didn't ask who that was.

Tom was itching to begin reading his new books, but he politely following Harry down the street, not voicing his desire to read. Although Harry carried most of the bags, there too many for him to handle alone. The two that Tom carried were starting to weigh down his arms, and he tried to shift them into a more comfortable position without Harry noticing.

"Sorry, they must be heavy." Harry stopped them at a bench and they both sat down. Tom stared at his feet, although he would sneak glances at Harry every so often. Harry pretended not to notice, feeling awkward enough as it was already.

"Do you like ice cream?" He suddenly asked, spotting a vendor. Tom considered for a moment, before he decided to shrug.

"I've never tried it." he admitted, almost frowning as Harry eyebrows shot up his forehead.

"Seriously? Wait here and don't move." Tom watched in mild annoyance as Harry bought two ice cream cones. Why was he doing this? Couldn't he tell that Tom wanted to read his new books? Tom thought about voicing his opinion, but decided better of it. He had decided that it wouldn't hurt to stay in Harry's good books so far – he could use the man to get more books in the future. Plus, he had to admit he was curious to see where he would be living. When they had reached the house earlier with the clothes, Harry had sent him a mischievous look and told him to wait outside, and that he could come in and see when they were done shopping.

Tom, being the epitome of politeness, nodded silently and stood still, not taking a peak even though the door had been left slightly ajar.

"Vanilla and chocolate. Which would you like to try?" Harry asked breathlessly. Tom almost rolled his eyes – the man was more excited than he was about the ice cream. He was still a child nonetheless, and felt himself curious as to what ice cream tasted like. They'd never had any at the orphanage, as it was considered a luxury item.

"Which do you prefer?" Tom asked quietly.

"I've always liked vanilla." Harry admitted. "Boring I know, but I love it."

"Then, I would like to try that one." Tom decided, reaching out for it.

"I hope you like it." Harry smiled, and this one did reach his eyes. Tom had to admit that ice cream was indeed worth all the fuss. He remembered that he'd never understood why some of the children who hadn't been born in the orphanage begged for it so much, but now he did. It was simply divine. He was hungrier than he'd realised because he'd soon wolfed it down and was licking stray bits off his fingers.

Harry chuckled not unkindly and Tom was mortified that he'd forgotten to be on his best behaviour.

"I'm sorry sir."

"Don't be," Harry chuckled again, "ice cream tastes good doesn't it? Would you like to try chocolate?" the gleam in Tom's eyes told him he did.

XXX

The house that Tom was to call his own was slightly larger than average size for that area of London, which Tom immediately noted with glee. There was a sizeable living room, a modest kitchen and a small dining room. They had the luxury of having two indoor toilets as well!

"No outhouse?" He'd asked, the surprise in his voice unmistakeable.

"No outhouse." Harry confirmed. His hand had twitched – he'd wanted to ruffle Tom's hair, but the strange look in the young boys eyes made him hesitate, and he in the end he let his arm hang limp.

There were three bedrooms, and although Harry had already had his Tom was allowed free reign to choose his own. They both looked identical in size, so he had decided upon the one furthest from Harry's bedroom. At the orphanage it had been nearly impossible to tell if someone was approaching his room, at least here he would be able to have time to hear Harry coming.

Harry had then helped him unpack all of his new clothes and put them into his wardrobe, as well as placing all his books on the bookshelf. Tom had gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling overwhelmed at his new bedroom in his new 'home' with his new Harry, and all his new books and toys.

This is what I've always deserved. He thought to himself viciously, a triumphant gleam in his eye. Yes, he would do everything in his power to stay in Harry's good books, why would he risk losing all of this to go back to that horrid orphanage? He wanted to prove everyone at that stinking orphanage wrong, he would never go back there.