Chapter 5

The months passed by, not exactly quick, but at a durable pace. I was mostly left to my own devices, reading, doing chores or small talking with the matrons. Being in a seven-year-old body with the mind of a nineteen-year-old made it much easier to get the adults to like me. All I had to do was act polite, be cute and not cause trouble. Being the perfect child I was, they mostly let me do what I wanted and I managed to require several more books from the library, all beyond the usual comprehension of someone my actual biological age. By the third month of being there, I was considered a prodigy, vastly different from the other smart kid they had in the house. I could sometimes hear them talking about it; how polite and kind and smart I was, and what an awful boy they thought Tom was. They weren't exactly wrong though.

By the children, I was more known as that girl "who always read" and "doesn't say much", but they were mostly unbothered by it. I was kind, shared my toys and sometimes even entertained them with a story or two. They didn't bother me too often and didn't seem to mind my quiet nature.

Dennis was another case. Constantly bugging me, he initiated conversation whenever the opportunity arose, and I was growing more and more annoyed. As his interest in me seemed to grow, so did his antics with bullying other kids. And with "kids", I meant mainly Riddle.

It seemed that whenever I was around, he started harassing whatever permitted victim was in his vacancy by either tripping the person up or gloating at them, all with the support of his friends. Amy in particular, who clearly had a thing for Dennis and went along with everything he did.

Of course, I knew what was happening. By now, it was rather hard not to, as he always kept glancing at me, having that smug expression on his face. I had several times told him to stop, demanded he didn't continue bullying, but nothing I said seemed to work.

I pulled him aside one time and explained how it was bad to do what he did, only for him to continue with even more enthusiasm.

Not only that but his… gifts weren't exactly appreciated either. Apart from the occasional snack I was offered, he also stole toys from other kids, giving them to me. I really wasn't comfortable and continuously kept turning him down. This only led to more drastic measures, which also resulted in the current situation.

Refusing to take his gifts, Dennis tried to come up with other things I would like. I had already told him, bluntly, how I really wasn't interested, and definitely didn't appreciate his efforts. Apparently, he took this as another challenge.

His behaviour was starting to get out of hand, and what was from the beginning a small crush, was turning into something more like an obsession. Which is in itself odd, considering he's only seven-freaking-years-old!

On that note though, every person I had met, I felt like there was something off. Maybe it was because this was a fictional world in reality, but people's reactions really weren't what I expected them to be. It seemed that behind every decision, there was some sort of weird reasoning that I just couldn't follow, and for some people, that let to impulsive decisions and consequences.

In short, people were stupid. Maybe not individually, but as a whole group. Easily, almost too easily, the masses could be swayed. Now, this might just be in the orphanage that people turned on each other so quickly, but I had my suspicions. I had my suspicions that I was not just imagining things and that as the world was fictitious, so was people's reactions in order to appease the plot. A plot I was growing more and more spiteful of.

And if this was what the muggle world was like, then I would hate to see how judging the wizards and witched would be. I might not know much about the Harry Potter world, but I had watched or heard enough from obsessed friends to know that the wizarding world was a prejudiced one.

Back to the problem at hand though. The gift Dennis had finally decided to give me was the last drop.

Returning to my room after having been outside reading quietly on the bench by the building, I was surprised to see Dennis waiting for me.

He stood eagerly by my bed, holding something in his arms, though it was obstructed from view by his hands. Seeing me by the doorframe, hesitant as to what he was doing here and wary of the reason why, he smiled, showing the gap between his two front teeth.

I was beginning to learn that that smile boded no good.

"Eh…" I started, no idea of what to say. Dennis took a step closer to me and I got a quick glimpse of what he was holding. It was something black and small, though I could not yet identify it.

All the while smiling, he suddenly reached out with the thing in his hands, offering it to me. "I got this for you."

Now, that might have been a sweet scene, had this boy not been a sadist and had the gift not been a dead animal. However, as that was not the case, I stumbled back to avoid the bird hanging limp and Dennis persistently followed.

"What the-" I took another step back, wanting desperately to put as much distance between me and the crazy boy as possible. "I don't want it!" My voice was cold and angry, but Dennis just moved closer.

I glared at him, "Get that thing away from me!"

He didn't listen and even though I shouldn't have been so scared of such a young boy, I really couldn't handle dead beings. As was normal. He, however, was not. I tried to keep up my furious facade, but a glance at the bird had me faltering.

Dennis followed me as I backed away, still holding out that thing. "I snapped its neck, but it struggled much and it took some time to catch one," he explained and I stared at him with a mortified face.

Right, he was sick. Speaking of sickness, I felt my own stomach lurch at the sigh of rumbled feathers and black, blank eyes.

Was someone punishing me? I could not remember ever doing something to deserve this, but apparently I had really pissed off someone royally, otherwise, this would surely not be happening.

I took a firmer hold of the book in my hand and suddenly threw it at his face, making him stagger back with a confused, scrunched up face. Before he managed to catch up with what'd just happened, I turned and started sprinting away from the deranged kid. Glancing back as I rounded a corner, I could see him starting to run too, calling after me. "I caught it for you!"

Desperate to get away, I tried to find an adult to hide behind, but it looked like the whole orphanage was empty. With my heart beating madly as I made a turn into another empty corridor, I suddenly I remember why. It was Tuesday and they had gone, with most of the kids, of to the park. I had opted to stay behind, wanting to read in peace by the building instead.

With almost everyone gone for the day, there was no one present to help me and I settled for finding somewhere to hide instead. I refused to touch the dead bird and with him chasing me, it was hard to think clearly.

I could hear him coming closer and cursed my short legs for not keeping up with the pace I wanted. I entertained the thought of hiding in someone else's room but discarded the idea as he would probably soon find me did I choose to do that.

I was just rounding another corner, heading for the kitchen in an aimless pursuit to shake the other boy of my tail when something was suddenly blocking my way, and as I was already running, the momentum kept me on track and I crashed into whatever had appeared before me.

At the impact, I fell back violently, landing hard on my bottom and wincing painfully. I could hear Dennis coming closer and looked up to see what it was that I had bumped in to. Or rather, who.

Tom Riddle sneered down on me.

I seriously feel like my writing-voice changes with every chapter and nothing is really consistent. Any thoughts?