As Tom waited by the stairs, he wondered if he'd made a wise move in agreeing to sneak out of the orphanage with a Muggle girl. If they came across a file on his family at the Town Hall would he want anyone to see it beside himself?

As an orphan, Tom knew that there were many reasons why babies were given up by their families. Mrs Cole had told him his mother had died giving birth to him, but she knew nothing about his father. What if his mother had been a prostitute? What if the birth certificate said that his father was unknown and he was a bastard? Lots of babies were unclaimed by families for that very reason and it would explain why his father or his mother's family had never turned up to claim him. Tom chewed at his bottom lip, growing more and more anxious every minute.

If Buffy saw his birth certificate and saw that he was classed as a bastard would she sneer or, even worse, would she look at him with pity? The thought discomposed him and Tom didn't like having feelings like that. She was a Muggle, why should he care what a Muggle thought of him?

Tom decided that he'd tell her he'd changed his mind, that if Mrs Cole caught them she might throw them out. He'd go again some other time and not tell her he was going. It wasn't as if he needed anyone's help – least of all a Muggle girl's.

"Hey," Buffy whispered quietly. She moved along the dark corridor towards him wearing the boy's outfit he'd seen her in the previous night. When she saw his frown, she stopped and flashed him an embarrassed smile. "Did I take ages to change? Sorry it took so long, I couldn't find my... er, hat."

He'd no way of knowing it, but the boggart had been giving her trouble. The little creature had been hovering behind her door, waiting for her. It had refused to go back inside the wardrobe and then darted around the room excitedly when she'd chased it. Finally, she'd picked up Great Expectations and it had dived under the bed and refused to come out.

"Not at all," Tom found himself saying. "I came out just a moment ago. Are you ready?"

She nodded and he felt like kicking himself. He was supposed to be ditching her. All this pretending to be nice must be having a detrimental effect on his brain, unless...

A horrible thought occurred to him. Hogwarts was full of teenage boys and girls making fools of themselves over each other. He'd always avoided it, but some part of him, and he wasn't going to look too closely at which part it was, wanted to spend time with Buffy. Hormones, he thought sullenly and began to descend the stairs.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Buffy tugged his arm. "You're going the wrong way," she whispered, nodding towards the back of the building. "The kitchen is that way."

"And find ourselves locked out, like you did? I know a better way."

Buffy's face lit with approval. "A better way? I take it you've snuck out before?" At his nod, her smile widened, and a nostalgic look appeared on her face. "So beneath that bookish, tweedy exterior you're a 'Ripper' at heart? A bit of a bad boy?"

"Oh, you have no idea," breathed Tom happily. He'd spoken quietly, confident that she couldn't hear him, and missed the sidelong look Buffy gave him

When they reached the door to the cellar they paused, Tom reaching up to take down a box of matches and a candle from a shelf. "This cellar is separate to the main one," he explained. "It runs directly beneath Mrs Cole's private quarters and we need to keep our voices down."

Buffy shrugged. "No talking. Sure. Lead on MacDougal," She tugged on the back of the boy's cap she wore, tucking her shoulder-length hair out of sight.

"Duff," said Tom, striking the match ineffectively against the side of the box.

"Huh?"

Tom frowned, concentrating on getting the match to light. It was much easier to cast a Lumos charm than deal with damp Muggle matches. The match flared to life and he flicked a glance over the top of the candle at Buffy's face. "The name is wrong. The actual quote is from Shakespeare's Macbeth and reads 'lay on MacDuff'."

Buffy's face took on the glazed, faraway expression that Tom was beginning to recognise. Memories were coming back to her. "I remember covering that in a literature class once." Her eyes took on a devious glitter and her tone became more teasing. "It's the play with the witches. Those witches were bad news, but they were nothing compared to the ones trying out for Sunnydale's cheerleader team." She shot a glance at his hand. "If you can smell flesh burning, try checking your fingers."

Realizing the match was burning down, Tom blew it out. Witches? Did Buffy know about magic and the Wizarding World? Or was she simply a Muggle romanticising about magic? Tom took the opportunity to peer into her eyes, trying to figure her out, and getting absolutely nowhere as usual.

Buffy tilted her head, looking at the cellar steps meaningfully. "So you were saying... cellar, way out?"

Aware of Mrs Cole above their heads, neither spoke as they crossed the cellar. Tom guided the way to a small window just above ground level and the two used it to enter the side courtyard of the orphanage. They stood up, shooting wary glances at Mrs Cole's window before darting across the yard to the main gate.

"Mrs Cole never bothers to lock the gate after she's had a visitor," Tom explained to Buffy as he opened the gate enough for them to slip through. He closed it behind them, making sure not to clang the metalwork, and then they were both in the street rapidly walking away from Wool's.

As they walked, Tom continually scanned the dark street around them. Buffy was doing much the same herself, but noted his vigilance. Was Tom expecting trouble? The street lay deserted around them, no vehicles passed, and the only thing she sensed on her Slaydar was Tom. Every time he stepped closer to her every fine hair on her arm tingled. Buffy wasn't sure if it was because she was aware of him as an attractive boy or if he wasn't quite human.

They'd walked in companionable silence for a while when Tom asked, "Did you hear anything interesting this afternoon whilst hiding in the cupboard under the stairs?"

Startled, Buffy struggled to keep her face blank and stalled for time. "What makes you think that I was eavesdropping?"

Tom gave a sarcastic snort and raised his brows. "Surely, you don't think I'll believe the termite nonsense you gave to Mrs Cole? Or were you actually leaving messages of love under the mop bucket for the grocer's boy to find?" His white teeth gleamed in the moonlight, his smile broadening at her dark glower.

"Great guess, Mr Snake-Pajamas." She was so not going to admit to spying on Moody and Mortimer. "Robbie and I are planning on eloping and starting a business together."

"And that will be a greengrocers, I suppose?" The smile left Tom's face and it became sharp and intent. "You were eavesdropping on the men from the Ministry, weren't you? What did you over hear them say?" He lowered his voice, allowing it to take on a darker and more commanding edge."Tell me the truth."

"They were talking about you," Buffy replied, her voice dripping with sweetness. She didn't bother to wait for his reply, instead, she took a sudden right, and dived into an alleyway that ran between two rows of houses.

Tom had to hurry to catch up, his heart banging in his chest. Salazar! Had they discovered his Muggle-baiting plans? No, he reasoned, it was impossible they could know. Malfoy had paid for the boggart and then Tom had let him carry it through the Leaky Cauldron. There was no evidence leading back to him, so what had they said about him?

"Tell me..." he ordered. "Tell me what they said about me."

"They said you were a jerk," replied Buffy cheerfully.

Tom let out a long hiss of annoyance.

"And you can stop hissing at me, Tom Riddle."

"I don't hiss," snarled Tom, wondering why Buffy was able to shake off his influence so easily when so many others fell under his thrall. Some Muggles were very sensitive to his magic. Tom decided that Buffy was as sensitive as dragon hide. Frustrated, he raked a hand through his dark hair, ruffling his immaculate locks.

Buffy shot him a glance from under her eyelashes. "You do hiss. I've met snakes who don't have as many hissy fits as you do."

Tom let out another involuntary hiss of anger. It translated as something rude in Parseltongue and he was very tempted to translate it when Buffy wrenched his arm. Annoyed at how she took personal liberties, Tom jerked his arm back and scowled down at the petite blonde. Buffy pointed silently at the ground in front of his feet. He'd been about to walk into a large, muddy puddle.

"I don't have hissy fits!" he snapped, skirting around the puddle. He was angry. Angry at her for the ease she could make him lose his temper and angry at himself for losing control. When Tom finally glared at her, he found that she wasn't even looking in his direction.

They'd come to a place where two alleyways crossed, and Buffy's interest was on the alley to their left. He followed her gaze. It was dark down there, but the moonlight shone onto dark puddles, broken bricks, and thick patches of mud on the pathway. Further on, the alley wound between buildings, and the darkness was impenetrable. Anyone or anything could be down there.

Tom knew from past experience how dangerous Muggle streets were. He'd run into trouble here before and didn't wish to meet it again.

Buffy walked on. Putting their argument to one side, Tom asked, "How did you know about this short-cut?" The cut-through wasn't well known and only used by locals.

From behind him, came the sound of a splash as if someone had accidentally put a boot into a puddle. Were they being followed? He shot a look over his shoulder, seeing nothing but darkness, and then looked at Buffy. The girl continued to lead him unerringly towards the Town Hall and she gave no sign of hearing anything.

"I came across the alley last night. On my way back from the hospital," she explained. "I sort of made an unexpected 'detour'." Buffy didn't think detour was the right word to use for her vampire hunting adventure, but it was as close to the truth as she was prepared to get.

"Detour?" Tom picked up on the slight emphasis, looking at her sharply, trying to read her face.

"Um, yeah. I, sort of, got lost." she replied softly. They'd come to the mouth of the alley and old habits kicked in, she checked the area before venturing out. "That's Stockwell Town Hall over there, isn't it?" She nodded to a large brick building on the opposite side of the street.

"It is," replied Tom. "Any thoughts of how we can get in?" He scanned the Muggle building, examining the imposing front door, the tall sash windows, and then the smaller side entrance. There would be no magical wards in place and a simple Alohomora charm would unlock every door. It was a pity that he couldn't use it, but he didn't dare risk it. There was a Trace charm on all underage magic users and using magic during the summer holidays was banned. He'd need to use a non-magical, Muggle, way of getting in.

While Buffy went off to check the doors and windows, Tom waited in the shadows at the rear of the building. After a good while, Buffy came back to him admitting defeat.

"I've checked," she said sourly to Tom, who'd crouched beneath one of the windows."We're out of luck. They're all locked."

Tom pointed to a roughly painted cellar door beneath the window. "Perhaps, you should look more carefully?"

Buffy crouched down beside him, giving the unlocked door a look of disbelief and then giving him a suspicious look. Tom's grin became impish. He lifted his hand, showing her the open padlock and the hairpin he'd used to pick the lock.

"It was far easier opening this padlock than breaking into Mrs Cole's office." With those words, he grabbed the cellar door handle and hoisted the door upwards to reveal the dark hole beneath. When he looked back at Buffy, a genuine smile of pleasure lit up his face. "There's no need for Felix Felicis when you're as good as me."

Distracted by a smile that gave her butterflies, Buffy forgot to ask who Felix Felicis was. Inwardly, she gave herself a little shake, reminding herself that she had too much going on in her life to think about boys. Wagging a finger at him she said, "Never brag that things are going easy, that's tempting Murphy!"

But Tom ignored her, smiling happily he lowered himself into the cellar and dropped out of sight. Buffy heard him land on something that rattled and rolled away beneath his feet. Tom grunted and cursed softly.

"It's full of coal!" he complained.

For a teenage boy, Tom was always spotlessly clean. Buffy guessed he wouldn't like his clothes getting full of coal dust. She heard him crunching around and then he called up to her, "Come on, I'll help you down.

She knew she didn't need his help, but it seemed churlish to refuse when he was so keen on playing knight in shining coal dust. She lowered herself into the cellar, allowing Tom to guide her onto the coal heap. When her feet made contact with the coal, large chunks rolled out from underfoot and Buffy lost her balance. She pitched forward, stopped from doing an embarrassing face plant only by Tom's sharp reflexes. Tom grabbed her, his warm hands on either side of her waist, steadying her until she regained her footing. Aware the way his touch was sending tingles throughout her body, Buffy stepped quickly away, embarrassed and flustered by her reaction.

"Um, thanks," she half-whispered. She'd memories of another dark-haired man sharing intimate moments like this one with her - Angel. Buffy sucked in a fast breath. She hoped history wouldn't repeat itself and she'd find out that Tom was a murderous demon who needed slaying. She ducked her head, glad of the darkness covering her flushed face, and turned for the outline of a door in the far wall. "This way," she said huskily.

"Wait!" Tom ordered, from his pocket he took out a candle and lit it. "I brought these from the orphanage," he explained, holding up the candle to let its feeble light flicker across the coal cellar. "I knew we might need a light."

"Cool. If you were a boy scout you'd get a badge for that." Buffy climbed down the coal heap, sending lumps of coal skittering everywhere.

The door led onto a long, cold corridor that smelt of old books, mould, and mouse pee. Neither dallied, both eager to get away from the smell. They had just reached the door at the opposite end of the corridor, Tom's hand on the handle of the door, when Buffy yanked the back of his collar, almost making him choke.

"Salazar, girl! Are you mental? What-?"

"Look!" She pointed excitedly to a door in the corridor.

Tom pulled on his askew collar, smoothing it out before holding the candle closer to the door Buffy pointed at. Glinting in the candlelight was a brass door plaque bearing the words 'Records Office'. Buffy turned the handle and pushed the door open. Beyond was a windowless room and Tom stepped forward, holding up his candle. Along one side of the chamber were floor to ceiling shelves containing old ledgers and books. On the opposite side ran a banking of filing cabinets with more shelving above.

"Woah! It's Giles heaven," Buffy said softly taking in the sight of old books and the smell of parchment. Next to the door was a bakelite switch and Buffy pressed the toggle down. There was a loud click and inside the room a single overhead bulb flickered before casting a sickly yellow light.

"Giles was your old teacher," Tom remarked. He blew his candle out and moved to the first filing cabinet. He continued, "There's nothing wrong with having a thirst for knowledge. If you don't wish to marry Robbie the grocer..."

Buffy rolled her eyes at him.

"...you would do well to heed Giles and continue your education."

"You are so jealous of Robbie," snarked Buffy, going over to the ledgers and pulling the first one from the shelf. She squinted at the cramped cursive Victorian writing – accounts of some sort – and replaced the ledger back on the shelf.

"I really don't care," Tom said. "It was merely general advice." He missed the dark glare Buffy gave him as he pulled out the top cabinet drawer and withdrew a thick file. He scanned it briefly before muttering, "Rental properties," and moving on to the next cabinet.

The two of them went through the cabinets and the accounts ledgers, finally moving on to boxes of files. Finally, Tom said, "Ah!"

"You've found something?" Buffy brushed at a cobweb clinging to her face, leaving a streak of dirt behind. Tom waved a thick file at her.

"I found the Wool's orphanage files and this is mine." He took out an old brown envelope and opened it up to slide out the contents. There was a wedding photo of a young, rather plain, girl staring adoringly at a very handsome youth who stared into the camera lens smugly.

"You can tell he is your father, you look just like him," Buffy said, taking the picture from his fingers. "You can see it's a real love match."

"Hmm," replied Tom absently, looking at the second picture. This one showed a photo taken a few months later. His mother, Tom noticed the cast to her eyes, faced the camera proudly with a hand beneath her bulging stomach. His father stood a little behind her with his hand on his wife's shoulder. Tom held the picture closer to his face, taking in the glazed look in the Muggle's eyes.

"She looks happy to be pregnant," said Buffy, standing on tip-toe to peer over his arm and see the photo. "She must have been looking forward to holding you."

Tom looked at the girl's expression. Buffy was right, his mother did look happy. What had happened to them? Had his father died? Why hadn't she gone to St Mungo's for help? Going to a Muggle orphanage to give birth had put both their lives at risk. His eyes moved over to the image of his father again, taking in the man's unfocused expression. His father was a Muggle and his mother a witch. A horrible feeling grew in his stomach, and Tom knew that he needed more time to peruse the contents of the file, to see if more clues would come to light.

"We need to go," he said abruptly, taking the wedding photo from her and pushing both photos into the envelope. "The longer we are here, the greater the risk of being found." Folding the file (careful not to bend the photographs) Tom placed it into an inside coat pocket.

Once they'd made sure there was nothing out of place, they left the room and went back along the corridor. In the coal cellar Tom insisted on giving Buffy a leg up. Once she was safely above ground, he jumped up, grabbed hold of the cellar door frame, and began to pull himself up. Seeing him struggling, Buffy helped by grabbing the back of his trousers and yanking him upwards. She must have pulled a little too hard because suddenly Tom shot forward and knocked her to the ground.

For a long and embarrassing moment, Tom lay sprawled on top of Buffy before he leaped away with the speed of a scalded cat. He glared, hissing at her, "Mental, you're totally mental!"

Shame-faced, he stuck his hand down the back of his trousers and pulled his underwear out from between his buttocks.

Buffy exploded with laughter at his stricken face. "The wedgie was totally accidental. And stop hissing at me and saying I'm mental."

"Hiss? I'll do more than hiss if you ever do that to me again," Tom snarled. Already he could feel his magic crackling around him, magical power that normally intimidated Muggles or Wizards alike, Buffy didn't appear in the least bit intimidated – she just grinned at him all the wider. He scowled, turning his back on her while he shut the cellar door, and replaced the padlock. "There, all done. No one will know we've been here."

"Tom," Buffy said very softly, no longer laughing.

Still feeling sore at what she'd done to him, he ignored her. Keeping his back facing her to show his ongoing displeasure, he felt inside his pocket, making sure the file hadn't become dislodged when he'd fallen.

"Tom!" Buffy's voice was more urgent.

Tom whipped around, the words 'do be quiet' dying away when he noticed the figures stepping from the shadows to surround them. It seemed that he and Buffy had run into trouble after all.

…...

A/N;

that chapter wasn't easy to write and I have no idea why. Stress and being really tired from migraines, I guess!

Tom and Buffy are still circling around each other. They are developing a slight friendship and not killing each other and that is the main thing. Tom also has clues to his parentage which will be explored more next chapter. I still don't think he will be pleased with how his Muggle father ran off and left his mother and unborn child.

Next chapter will deal with those who have intercepted them. Let's just say Buffy will see another side of Tom Riddle.

Thanks to those who leave reviews and encouragement for me. (especially my militant fan who asks me almost daily when the next chapter will be ready and gets very cross when I say it isn't ;) ).