M.P.O.: Hm, the blurb I had for second year was a little short, so I added the one for third year as well. Hope you enjoy! And no, I don't have chapter titles for these, likely won't until it becomes an actual story, that is, if you all want it to become one. Doesn't matter to me, but if you would like it to be an actual story, just tell me and I'll work on outlining it. Should be easier, since I've got the main drabble points already written, just need the filler stuff and a couple other events to add.

Congrats to Gemini Perevell for being the first reviewer, after getting 99 hits. First reviewer for this chapter gets a cookie and a HP chess set.

Hello, my name is Tom Riddle.

The words inked themselves across the page, bleeding into existence without the use of a quill. He smirked, tapping his finger on the page and considering the small black book. The very same book that had started it all. It really was a waste, waking poor Saiesa and making her go back to sleep, but it had to be done. He could not let Hogwarts be closed, under any circumstances. Decision made, he picked up the quill once more.

'Hello Tom. I am Lord Voldemort, and you have outlived your purpose.' He wrote carefully, the handwriting matching the one above letter for letter. Before the ink had even sunk into the page he had snapped it closed, resting the tip of his wand against the cover and closing his eyes.

Dark Magic rose from the book, warping and twisting the pages, though they never ripped or tore. Black mist, reminicent of His last encounter with Voldemort, rose from the small journal, hovering in a ball above the tip of his wand for a moment before shooting forward, latching onto his forehead and driving into his skull. His vision flashed black and a moment of panic almost forced him to release control before he shoved himself back into place, calming his breaths and wiping the sweat from his brow.

The book sat, still and lifeless against the bright red sheets. Thinking, he grabbed the quill again and wrote carefully.

'My name is Lord Voldemort.'

Nothing.

The ink stayed, drying slowly on the page. He smirked, running a thumb over the still wet ink and smearing it across the page. One down, five to go.

That night, he crept down to the second floor, slipping into the girl's bathroom with nary a sound. A silencing charm took care of the sound of grinding stone, and he smirked as he dropped into the pipe, hissing a command for the opening to close behind him. Sliding out of the end, he grunted softly, pushing himself up and wrinkling his nose at the mass of small animal bones littering the floor.

"Filthy." He muttered, brushing his robes off and striding forward. He hummed in appreciation of the 60 foot snakeskin lying in front of the entrance and absently gave the password, waiting quietly as the snakes slid back and the door swung open.

/Saiesa?/ He called carefully, closing his eyes and staying in the doorway, listening. The sound of scales on stone echoed back at him, and a loud, curious hissing followed soon after.

/Master Tom? You are early. I was not expecting to be called for another moon at least./ The voice, if that's what it could be called, was soft, feminine in it's gentleness, but sharp at the same time. He smiled, reaching out his hand, fingertips meeting the silky cool of Saiesa's snout.

/It was not I who woke you, dear one. There was another, but he has been dealt with. I'm afraid that you will have to go back to sleep. I cannot let Hogwarts close./ He hissed, tilting his head up, as if to look at her, though his eyes remained closed, safe from her killing gaze.

/I understand. I wonder though, it has been a long while since I have traveled the forest. If you would permit me, I would hunt there until you call again. The little ones are easy prey, but I will not hunt them if you wish me not to./ She shifted uneasily, restless and dreading the return to her slumber. He smiled lightly, shaking his head in amusement.

/I suppose that I can allow it. Use only the tunnels leading to the forest, and do not travel the school ones again. I may have need of you later. For now you shall hunt, grow, and live as you were meant./

/Thank you, Master Tom./ Her tongue flickered over his cheek in gratitude, and he turned, heading back the way he had come, closing the door behind him.

Dementors. Dark beasts that thrived on one's most horrifying memories, sucking away all of your dreams and desires and leaving nothing but a babbling shell. One of them was enough to make any wizard curl into a ball and weep, unless of course said wizard knew the correct spell. But a hundred? Even Dumbledore would have trouble holding off that number without help. He smirked, twirling his wand idly and watching the beasts mass across the way. The girl had disappeared, too afraid to watch her friend and his Godfather dying. He stayed, a small, satisfied smirk playing about his lips as he waited for the opportune moment.

Ah, the brilliant white light of an unmarred soul. So pure, so whole. It disgusted him. But young Harry would be devastated if his dear Godfather was lost. Sighing softly, he raised his wand, flicking it in a carefully controlled manner.

"Expecto Patronum." He murmured, wrinkling his nose in distate as the rush of magic rippled over him. It was too cheerful, bright and pure, the Light Magic, and the hair on his neck tingled with it's power. His Patronus was massive, brilliant white light shifting and morphing into the form of a basilisk, it's coils looping around him in a halo of magic. The Dementors screeched, retreated in terror as the great snake snapped it's fangs at them, catching one or two in it's maw and swallowing them. Each one gave a shrill scream as it was disentigrated, and the others fled, rotted black robes mere streams in the frozen air.

/Thank you Kah, you may leave./ He murmured to the great Patronus, patting it's snout gently and watching as it faded. Turning slightly, he smirked at the slumped form of Harry Potter, knowing that the boy would never tell anyone what he had really seen.

M.P.O.: So that's that for this one. Gonna be a shorter fic than I thought, I've already written the fourth year drabble and it's as short as these. Fifth year should be longer, and the last two as well, plus an extra scene that I have yet to think up. Kinda just writing these as I get the idea for how to do it. *giggle*

Review thanks to: Gemini Perevell, kuchingz, alexandra101, and Dedication to Runes.

Question answers, for those who reviewed them:

"What happened to Harry after the death of his relatives?" - Though it wasn't said in this, because they're just drabbles, he was sent to an orphanage for the month before he went to school. After first year, I don't know where he goes, as I haven't worked that bit out yet.

"What happened when Harry received his Hogwarts letter?"- Not sure what you mean by that, actually, but I'll give it a go. The Dursley's death didn't take place until after Harry had already been to Diagon, as (if I'm remembering correctly) it took about three days for Hagrid to finally get his letter to him and take him there to get his supplies. Therefore, at the time of the Dursley's demise, he already knew he was a wizard, had his supplies, and knew where he was going in September. I put the date of their deaths at about three days after their arrival back to Privet Drive, giving Harry about a month in the Orphanage before he went to Hogwarts.

"Where was he sorted?" -Gryffindor of course! Harry himself isn't aware of his 'guardian' and won't be for a little while longer. Anything aside from these little drabbles is basically cannon, though if I do write this as a fully story, it will be with my particular flair instead of JK's.