A/N: I don't own HP. This is somewhat based on the 'Just one of the boys' song sang by Troye Sivan, but only loosely. One sentence in particular, 'The madness continues to haunt me…'. I don't own the song either.
The Madness Continues
A fourteen year old Tom Riddle took in his surroundings. Again the other ones were… bullying him. Bullying being a relative term. They were yelling mediocre insults at him for not wanting to join their silliness. But, honestly, what were they playing at? Playing some sort of football, or rugby, and touchies hybrid. They were fourteen years old, for goodness' sake, wouldn't they ever grew up?
He mentally chastised himself, thinking he should be a bit more like the other boys at the orphanage.
But he wasn't, was he? He was odd in their eyes, queer.
He sighed, blocking out the many voices that invaded his very core. Foul words, depicting him as a nancy, an infected child.
Tom smiled to himself.
He was infected. With the most wonderful disease out there. Magic.
At Hogwarts he didn't have these problems.
"You think you're so damn smart, don't you?"
That was the first comment that got his attention. He looked up at the boy from his book. Scrawny, but he had a pair of dazzling eyes. His voice still hadn't broken, Tom noticed. The boy looked at the others as if searching for some sort of positive reaction. None came. Tom summarised the situation within seconds.
The boy was in the others' friend group, in a way, but he had to prove himself. And that was where he that was Tom Riddle came in.
They boy surged forward, grabbing Tom's collar. He tried to show some strength, but he was unable to lift him off the floor. Tom smirked.
"Welcome to the old school." The boy breathed into Tom's face.
"You're too tough to talk, but nothing to fear." Tom replied calmly.
"We'll kick it out of you!" One of the boys yelled, aiming a kick at Tom, but catching his friend in the shin.
Tom aimed his words at the one that was just kicked. "Don't be surprised if you don't last a year."
The boys would maim him, the scrawny boy. Tom nearly pitied him.
Nearly.
Tom eased himself out of the boys grip. He smiled his famous charming smile – unfazing the boy entirely. He walked to his room, the book loosely swinging in his hand.
We'll beat it out of you, we'll beat you black and blue – don't be surprised if you don't last the year.
That night Tom left his room to find the boy. It wasn't a hard task, really. He knew the orphanage inside out, despite him being there only during summers.
That's what it was now, summer. The other children didn't know what he was; just that he went to some elite school for particularly intelligent children.
He opened the door, silently cursing the creaking hinges.
"What do you want?"
The boy was faster than he would've imagined. A knife was aimed at his throat – how hostile, Tom thought with dark amusement.
"I've heard about you." He went on, not waiting for Tom's reply. The knife seemed to dance in front of him. The small shaft of moonlight coming through the window reflected on it, casting Tom's face in an eerie light.
Tom smiled – but not his usual dazzling smile. His pupils dilated, sucking his former tormentor. He had always had this… ability. To make people think, imagine and experience the most horrible things. He forced his madness onto the boy, hoping to lighten his own burden. The knife clattered to the floor as the boy screamed. The images Tom was making him see was horrifying.
Tom nodded satisfactorily and moved away. His record was already tainted.
He knew he was mad, as they had accused him years ago to be. Insane, crazy, bonkers… Yet, he had discovered, he didn't particularly care. Yes, from time to time his madness became a burden – but it was one he could manage. One he wanted. Yearned for.
So the madness continues to haunt me… Hello world, this is me, and I'm more than going to be – just one of the boys.
Not that he had ever planned that in the first place.