A/N: Not many reviews, but I don't blame you lot. I hope you weren't scared away by my response to 'Guests' review.

To fanfictionfan1990: I'm glad that this is your first :) Thanks for reviewing; you truly are a star * It's okay, I read through your fics and I can assure you that your OCs are not Mary Sues :) Thanks for informing me of that- although I have changed Tia's name to Katherine. And Here you go, I've updated :)

To Summer Leigh Wind: Thank you- and I've already addressed all of those points through PM- though you have been an invaluable beta. And thanks for informing me of the fact that Tia's name is an anachronism, I've changed her name to Katherine, now :)

My favouriters:

- Chuu112

- Cytryne

- DannyRaven Lover

- Nacanaca

- aspygirlredo

- cup'o'tea

And my followers (Oh God, never saying that again- I feel like Voldemort :S)

- Chuu112

- Cytryne

- Nacanaca

- aspygirlredo

- cup'o'tea

- pinkmonkey36

Tom Riddle has given you all a hug. An invitation to Riddle Manor (with an Unbreakable Vow not to kill, harm or use you XD) has been sent to you all by owl mail.

A REMINDER: TIA MARGE RIDDLE IS NOW KATHERINE MEROPE RIDDLE TO MATCH THE TIME PERIOD. I HOPE YOU ALL DON'T MIND THIS CHANGE, SINCE IT IS DONE QUITE EARLY ON IN THE STORY, BUT YEAH. CHEERS! :)

I awoke to the stone ceiling in me and Tom's dormitory, momentary confusion filling me.

Pain. I remember pain.

I shuddered, my muscles groaning in protest.

"Tom?" My voice was little more than a rasp. I cringed, but swallowed in a desperate attempt to call my brother without exerting my body and causing me an ache- a distant echo of the pain I had felt only moments before. "Tom?" I was louder this time, my voice carrying through the room and reverberating off the walls. My brother immediately entered the room; dressed in the only clothes we had apart from the school robes- the orphanage uniform. A sneer was present on his face and I couldn't fault him for the loathing he had on his face for the meagre clothes he was wearing. The second his eyes lifted and met mine, however, his whole demeanour changed.

He became the brother I knew my whole life.

"You called me?" He asked, his voice concerned. He climbed up the bunk bed, somehow managing to remain looking graceful, before sitting down next to me, his head tilted in such a way that made his neatly combed hair fall into his right eye. Sunlight that filtered through the Black Lake lit the walls with an eerie, pulsating aqua green light hit Tom's face, making him look like some sort of water-God.

Poseidon, My mind supplied, as I recounted the countless mythology books Tom had taught me how to read from. Or Neptune.

"Kathy?" His voice shook me out of my musings and his face was contorted with worry. I licked my lips and rasped out a word.

"Water." When Tom made to get up, I grasped his hand with the little energy I had and battled against that ache that had been dormant for the time I had remained still. "Stay. Please." I whispered. He gently but firmly slid his hand out of my grasp, giving me a pitying look.

Don't pity me, Tom. You'll be like the others. Like those matrons who think I'll forgive them if they coddle me.

Don't be like the rest.

"I'll be back, Kathy, I'll be back before you know it. Don't be afraid- I'd never leave you." He reassured me. I almost trembled in hysteria.

"You won't. I know you won't. Not unless you promise me you won't die." I stammered. The moment Tom's face became closed off; I knew I had overstepped the line again. I prayed that he wouldn't get angry, my throat closing up. But he must have seen something in my eyes as he examined my face for any insincerity because I saw his face begin to soften.

"I won't die. God knows I'm terrified of death, anyway."

"Swear it, Tom. Swear that you'll put yourself before me in any and all situations- because I'll be damned if youdie," Here my voice broke, "just to save me. I'm not worth anything- you're worth twelve of me." Tom looked strained, but didn't answer. "Swear it. Please!"

Tom looked conflicted, but eventually answered with a strained voice:

"I promise. I swear it. I swear it on my magic." He whispered, his voice filled with conviction. I finally went lax, my body relaxing once I heard his promise.

"Okay. Okay." I whispered, trying to convince myself that he would be back unharmed. Tom gave me a shaky smile before leaving the bunk bed, his footsteps light until I heard the heavy creak of the door closing. I closed my eyes, imagining the torment that I could have gone through if I hadn't had Tom.

If I had been an only child.

No doubt the man who tried to touch me years ago would have succeeded. He'd called me a pretty little thing, his favourite comment being how 'alike emeralds your eyes are'. I shuddered at the memory; briefly recounting the indescribable relief I'd felt when Tom had stopped the man by pushing him down the stairs. I was too overcome with solace from Tom's presence to have chastised him- albeit weakly- for murdering a man. He hadn't fallen without vicious satisfaction, however, since he'd tried to pull himself back to the brink by clawing at Tom's hands. Tom had avoided them, but gained a small scratch on his palm- one identical to the one that the man had given me earlier when I'd skirted around him.

What I didn't know was that the murder of the paedophile had invoked the darkest, foulest of magics to come alive when Tom and I fell asleep in the same cot that night, our scars touching and our limbs tangled.

Our life after that wasn't exactly top-notch either. By the time that we had hit eight, the Great Depression had affected Britain also, despite its origins in America. Our meagre rationings of food had been reduced to a pitiful quarter-slice of bread, with a sparse amount of jam on it. It was at around this time that the usually harmonious time in the orphanage had become dangerous. Children fought over one another to have the most amount of food. Everyone was starved to nought but skin and bones and over half of the orphanage was suffering from Anaemia. What didn't help was the fact that we were born only years after the First World War and Britain was still in shambles over the conflict. This meant that people were still afraid and were often dedicating their time to recuperating England back to its original state. But there were still whispers- tainted fear- that a second war would arise.

Every single time I thought of the dreaded orphanage, the rumours that had plagued Europe kept circulating throughout my head.

There's going to be a Second World War...

A new leader is rising...

His name is Hitler...

Stop it! I thought to myself. It's not going to happen- and you're going to look like a fool when it turns out that Germany and England will get along famously in the next decade or so!

Even then, however, doubts still filled my head. It gave me an uneasy gut feeling that the rumours were going to be proven correct and that Germany would, indeed, rise up again with the blonde-haired, blue-eyed Aryans in tow, Hitler in the lead.

Tom entered the room, an apologetic smile on his face. I immediately manoeuvred myself up, propping myself up into a sitting position.

"I'm sorry I took so long. We couldn't get you to the hospital wing because Dumbledore refused the damage inflicted on you," Here his expression turned stormy. "Timothy Littlewood got out of his punishment with little more than a slap to the wrist, but I will ensure that he will get what he deserves." I waited for the rush of gratitude toward Tom and disgust toward the Muggleborn who dared harm me, but instead only weariness filled me.

"Don't bother, Tom. He's not worth your time." I rasped back. Tom's face turned into one of shock before it became hurt.

That I did notexpect.

"So what you're alluding to me is the fact that I am restricted from doing what I feel is justice? That our relationship has broken because of one filthy Mudblood?!" He exclaimed. I released a breath of air.

"Tom, please. Not now." I pleaded. Tom pursed his lips but placed the water on the middle of the floor before turning around. But not before he threw another comment behind his shoulder.

"If you feel that his wellbeing is more important than yours then you are no more than a selfish girl who is related to me in nothing more than name. Do you know how much I cared for you? Do you know how furious I felt when I saw you on the floor- writhing in agony?"

"Tom, don't go-" He turned to face me again.

"Katherine, I watched you in pain. Someday you are going to oppose me if you continue with this traitorous behaviour and when that day comes I will be expected to kill you. Are you telling me not to care about you? You're being selfish, Katherine. You'd sooner die than see me in pain, but you don't ever take notice of the fact that I will always feel that agony in my heart for all of eternity if I see you die."

"Don't you dare say that Tom, don't you ever turn your back on me." I whispered. "I care for you more than the world itself- hell, I'd gladly become a Squib for you- so don't ever say that I don't care for you again."

"Don't you realise that by throwing yourself in front of that curse, then all of this could be avoided?" He asked, his voice pained. I turned away.

"Better me than you." I said, bitterly. Tom turned away. He said one last thing before he left the room.

"If you want the water, then go and get it yourself. You need to understand, Katherine, that if you don't have me to make everything easy then you'd have to go through pain and torment to get what you want." He slammed the door shut and the room shook a little. I did nothing but stare at the lone glass of water, an unfamiliar, strange pain hitting me like a punch to the chest. I curled up as though it would make it go away before tears clouded my vision.

I didn't know what this strange emotion was, but the best word I could associate it to was heartbreak.

More like heart-shatter.

Indeed, my heart did feel like it had been torn apart and thrown to the floor like it was nothing more than glass. I felt like Fate had torn it out before breaking it and dancing on the vital organ. It hurt, it hurt so much. And whenever I thought of Tom, the feeling only intensified.

I didn't know how long I'd stayed there, but it was long enough for the dawning sunlight through the Black lake to turn into sunset and eventually silvery moonlight. The room was bathed in tones of mercury when Tom finally re-entered the dorm we shared, his expression unreadable. His eyes fell upon the glass in the centre of the room before they lifted to meet mine.

"I hope you've learned your lesson." He hissed, his voice equally as impassive.

Fear travelled up my spine like ice, each minute hair pricking up along my back.

"I expect an answer." I swallowed, but eventually nodded. The sudden movement caused me to go a little dizzy, but I didn't fall. Tom's face pulled taut like canvas over a frame. "A verbal answer." I eventually worked up the energy to open my mouth.

"Yes, Tom." I whispered. "I've learnt my lesson." He lifted the glass in one fluid movement before climbing up the bunk bed. I felt apprehension fill me as he edged nearer and nearer toward me. By the time he was right in front of me, my neck was craned backward in a pathetic attempt to keep my distance from the boy who had changed so much. Tom looked vaguely perplexed before a cold look descended on his face yet again.

"There is no use trying to stay away from me, Katherine," His fingers found themselves on my chin, gently holding my face closer to his. I lifted my sheets up closer to my face like a five year old cowering after a nightmare. "I won't harm you unless you give me reason to." His words did nothing to reassure me, but I didn't dare move my face from his hands. They were a reminder- no matter how soft or gentle his hands may be- of how he could harm me in an instant. He gently pulled my face from my covers and pressed the rim of the cup to my lips. I immediately opened my lips and was rewarded with the water that had been sitting there for the whole day. Tom's eyes were on me the whole time, and my own optics were trained on his also. Terror kept me from trusting the boy in front of me, no matter how many times he had saved me. Eventually, the water finished and the refreshing liquid- who knew water could taste so sweet?- had been drained. I made a move to turn away, but Tom grasped my face again, his knees either side of my body. He was so close that I could see the tiny imperfections on his face- like the small burn on his ear for punishment when he gave Mrs. Cole food poisoning when he worked in the kitchens or the small scar on his forehead that looked suspiciously like a lightning bolt that he had gained from the crack of Mr. Wiley's belt. His lips were cracked and his hair was still neat, but somehow looked less flattering than it had at the beginning of the day. I could tell immediately by the exhaustion he kept masked beneath his mask of cold indifference that he had a school day today. Finally, my eyes made contact with his and I wondered how I'd missed it.

Of course. Tom would never harm me. No matter what I'd done.

His green eyes looked normal- emeralds shining out, irises rimmed by black and framed with long, dark lashes that would make any girl jealous- except for the red that ringed his pupils. His pupils were suspiciously dilated and his irises also held flecks of ruby red. Whilst it wasn't the block-red colour that had completely shrouded his eyes two nights before, it was obvious as to who was the real cause for the suffering. Tom wanted me dependant on him- he was possessive, and I couldn't fault him for that since the man tried to approach me- but it was only to a certain extent. Earlier, he'd wanted to own me, not protect me in the touching way that only Tom could. Tom would give me the world; the entity that had possessed my brother had cared for me, but only because he wanted me as someone to use or to take his anger out on.

"Voldemort."I spat, my voice full of spite. Tom- no, Voldemort- smirked, his face contorted in a way that not even Tom could achieve.

"Ah, sister dearest. I'd been wondering how long it would take for you to figure it out." He drawled, his nose only a millimetre from my own small, celestial peak. I snarled at the being, his eyes flashing in alarm once I pushed him off me, but rage filled his features and I immediately felt terrified.

"Don't." He pushed me back, my head hitting the wall behind me. I took a sharp gasp of surprise and pain once it made contact with the stone, sharp agony coursing through my head. "You." He was back on top of my legs, straddling my body whilst glaring at me. "Ever." His hands were around my own, my digits enclosed in an iron grip. "Do." His hands lifted my own ones up before pinning them up above my head on the wall behind me. I swallowed, fear causing my body to go lax, my every breath coming out in breathy, short intakes. "That." He leaned in, emphasising his point. His left hand left my left wrist, his right hand keeping my hands up above my head. "Again." His left hand was raised, and I cried out. Only to be cut short by a resounding slap of skin on skin, my cheek burning. He finally let go, his eyes finally holding satisfaction, the red bleeding through his emerald green eyes. My hands flew to the reddened cheek, tears already falling yet again. Betrayal coursed throughout me, though I knew that it wasn't truly Tom who'd hurt me. I wanted to meet Voldemort's gaze- to hit him like he hit me, but I couldn't bear the thought of marring my brother's skin. Though Voldemort may be harming me, I had to remember that it was, ultimately, Tom's body that he was residing in. I couldn't kill him for as long as I lived, and for that I resented him.

"I hate you." I spat, meaning every single word. Surprise overtook Tom's face before the red withdrew from his eyes- from the far off flecks at the edge of his irises to the crimson ring around his eyes. And eventually, that faded too.

Tom collapsed in front of me, his eyes closed and his body rigid. I let out a gasp, immediately worried. I felt guilt overtake me, but tried to justify it by mentally telling myself that I meant to say it to Voldemort.

But Voldemort's your brother too, isn't he? He's just a little more cruel...

I touched his hand and immediately withdrew it the second it made contact.

So cold...

But instead of shivering and trying to stay away from him to keep my body heat, I grasped his hands and pulled him into the bed, my teeth chattering lightly. I finally got him levelled up next to me before I tucked my feet behind me and kneeled. I pulled the covers over him and sat back down again, heaving his dead weight on top of me. I rubbed my hands together and placed them on his cheeks, hoping that the heat generated from the friction would at least be able to heat him a little, but I was sourly disappointed. With Tom's fragile body- for there was no other way to describe it; the only reason why he appeared so powerful was due to his posture and stance- curled up on my lap, I began to weep, anguish setting fire to my emotions like dynamite. He subconsciously started to lean into my body, seeking warmth. I leaned back and held his small body closer to me, drawing up his uncomfortable, freezing body closer to me. It felt like hugging a block of ice, but I held out and endured it.

I owe him that much.

I finally fell asleep to Tom's rhythmic breaths and the play of silver light across the walls from the moonlight through the Black lake, dreaming of a better world where our parents were either alive or had never abandoned us- where our only worries was petty things such as our grades or friends instead of fearing for the life of the other twin.

I have a dream...

•••

"Tom?" It was dawn, I could tell that much by the amber light streaming through the lake and into the windows. Tom was still asleep, but his body was much warmer. I loathed to wake him up after such an episode- partly due to the fact of the trauma, partly because it was so early and it was the weekend and mostly because I didn't want to face him- but persevered anyway. He'd confront me sooner or later- or ignore me all together, which was much worse in my opinion- and demand answers from me. Ambient golden light played across my brother's features.

And to think that I thought he looked like Poseidon. I thought. He looks like Apollo, now. The God of the Sun.

"Tom?" I repeated with patience. I placed my hand on his cheek gently, being sure not to surprise him. He hated surprises- and I had the same opinion. Whether they were good or bad, they always had that nasty habit of sneaking information on you- rather like an unannounced test. We preferred to have a little foreknowledge. I shook his shoulder gently. "Tom, wake up. We have school today." He groaned a little before turning over. I only just managed to refrain from gasping. There were black veins spread out from his nape, his hair curled off over it. It had a twisted beauty to it, but I couldn't help but stare at the imprinted pattern- no, words- before they shrunk and vanished all together.

I hate you.

The same words that I had cried out to Tom only the night before came back to haunt me. I desisted from shaking my brother and sat in guilty irony.

Voldemort had the last laugh after all.

A/N: Hello! Yes, Tia is now Katherine. Hope you all got that.

Quick theme updates:

Tom's theme: See what I've become, by Zack Hemsey

Voldemort's theme: False King, by Two Steps From Hell

Tom Riddle's Lullaby: Davey Jones' Theme

Katherine's theme: Will be revealed when Kat meets Harry Potter.

Until then, guess which theme YOU think describes Kathy the most in your reviews- and Tom will give you a kiss :)

Pretty please review; Tom will give you a huge kiss an