Author's Note: I ran into a sudden wave of inspiration and ended up writing these chapters quicker than I thought. Here they are, chapters 12, 13, and 14, two days early.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all rights to it belong strictly to J.K Rowling.

I am simply having fun with my imagination.

...He was very excited to plan for all the glorious things that the Death Eaters would do the following year. Just thinking about how pure the blood in the castle would be brought him such tremendous joy...

CHAPTER 12: PREFECT

Tom stared at the silver badge that had fallen out of the envelope. It gleamed as he rotated it around in his fingers, and it seemed to shout at him "DIPPET PITIES YOU!". Tom scowled as he thrust the stupid badge back into the envelope and sat on the bed.

"He only gave it to you because he feels bad for you," said a voice in his head. "Poor, innocent orphan who doesn't have anyone or anything."

"No, he gave it to you because you are the best at everything," said another voice. "You have top marks in all of your classes and are at the very top of your year."

"Whatever the reason, you don't want this," said the first voice. "It's stupid and not worth your time."

"Wrong again," cackled the second voice. "You have all the time in the world. You don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon, and just imagine all the power you'll have with such a position around the school."

"True," said Tom aloud to the empty room.

It was mid August. Tom had spent the summer helping Mr. Q at Flourish and Blotts for a little more pay this time. He'd quit just the day before however, for Hogwarts students would be doing their shopping that week and he didn't want anyone finding out that he had worked there. But the Hogwarts letter that he was now holding in his hand was not the only bit of post that he'd gotten that summer.

Avery and Lestrange had written to him just the week before and they'd made plans to meet up at the ice cream shop in Diagon Alley. It wouldn't be safe meeting at Knockturn Alley, for passerby-ers would probably assume that they were up to no good. And with last year's events still fresh in everybody's minds, Tom didn't think it wise attracting more attention to them.

Mrs. Cole and the other orphans did not bother him at all that summer, though he still resented the place with a passion. There wasn't much to do except think and plan. There was a small incident at the start of July when Mrs. Cole had tried moving Tom to one of the rooms upstairs, but he absolutely refused. Billy had interrupted Mrs. Cole's speech and suggested that Tom would be more comfortable in his own space in the basement. Tom was a little impressed with Billy's nerve, though knew perfectly well that he was only doing this to spare Mrs. Cole the pain that Tom would surely inflict on her if she bothered him more. Still, it was nicely played.

Tom appeared at Diagon Alley the following Tuesday at noon. He quickly did his shopping and then spotted Avery and Lestrange sitting at a table outside the ice cream shop, looking pretty grim. Tom approached them and, upon noticing him, they quickly got to their feet and bowed their heads.

"Let's go," Tom instructed, and he led the way to the back of Quality Quidditch Supplies. Looking around once to check that they were not being eavesdropped on, he leaned in to whisper. "What did you say his name was?"

"Davis," answered Lestrange in a low voice. "He's in Slytherin."

"Why haven't I seen him before?" said Tom.

"You have, he's that fourth year who's always studying by the fireplace, you know," said Avery. "But he's brilliant!" he quickly added.

"How so?" said Tom.

"He's the best in his year," said Lestrange. "And he's vindictive to Gryffindors."

"Rosier is vindictive," said Tom. "I do not need this Davis."

"Trust me, sir, you do," said Lestrange. Tom raised an eyebrow. "Uh, I j-just mean…t-that…you ought t-to meet him…s-sir."

Tom did not speak for a long time. He wondered whether meeting this stranger would be worth his time at all. Then, spotting Emily Troops' mother walking into the shop with her, he quickly nodded and motioned for the group to part ways.

Just before leaving that day, however, Tom decided to pay Borgin a visit. He bought a few more leering masks and some more of that Imperius powder, then turned to leave. Just before descending from Knockturn Alley, however, a shop caught his eye: Moribund's. He did not think he had noticed that shop before. He had been to all the other shops at Knockturn Alley. This must have been a new addition. Curious, he let himself in and looked around.

The shop very much resembled Borgin and Burke's, though it was exceedingly darker and more packed with books of all shapes and sizes. The wizard behind the counter muttered a hello and went back to pouring candle wax into a cauldron. Tom browsed some of the shelves until he found something particularly interesting; The Immortals Among Us. Glancing at his watch once, he noticed that it was time to go back to the orphanage. He quickly bought the book, stuffed it in his bags, and hurried out of Knockturn Alley. He took extra care in making sure that no one saw him come out of there. After all, he was now a prefect and he could really use this new reputation to his advantage.

Tom boarded the Hogwarts Express a week later feeling rather confident about the eventful year ahead. He'd instructed Avery to extend an invitation to this Davis character to join them in their compartment. After the food trolley came around, Davis showed up. Tom took a second to examine him before motioning for him to sit down. The boy was of about Tom's height and had very dark hair and virtually black eyes. He did not look at all to be a year younger. In fact, he was very well-built and looked to be very intellectual.

"Do you play Quidditch?" Tom asked, slowly.

"I do, sir," said Davis.

Avery must have warned him ahead of time to address Tom in that way.

"Why?" breathed Tom.

"I like the flying," said Davis, "Not the game."

"Not the game?" repeated Tom, more slowly.

"That's right, sir," said Davis. "I like the feel of the wind when I race through it."

"I see," said Tom, thoughtfully. "You don't think of it as a complete waste of your time?"

"No, sir," said Davis, confidently. "There is nothing that brings me more joy than to knock a Gryffindor off of their broomstick every now and then."

A sick smile spread across Tom's pale face.

"Have you heard of the unforgivable curses, Davis?" he asked him.

"I have, sir," said Davis.

"Have you tried them?"

"No, sir."

"You will try them," declared Tom.

"When you command me to, sir."

The boy was telling Tom everything he wanted to hear, but Tom was very wary of letting him into his ranks easily. He eyed the boy carefully.

"Why do you want to join us?" he asked.

"Avery told me that you are the Heir of Slytherin."

"Did he?" said Tom, glaring at Avery who looked very frightened.

"Yes, well I happen to know that Slytherin hated mudbloods," continued Davis. "And so do I. I absolutely detest their smell. So I'm guessing that, being Slytherin's heir, you will take it upon yourself to do something about the current situation in our school."

"And what makes you so sure?" said Tom, still watching Avery.

"You don't strike me as the type to sit there and do nothing," said Davis. "Sir," he quickly added.

"We'll see how you do on your test," Tom declared, finally looking away from Avery and turning to Davis. "And then we'll go from there."

Davis nodded.

"You may go," said Tom.

Davis got to his feet, bowed, and left the compartment. Tom fumbled around in his bag for his wand and then instructed Avery to stand up.

"I…P-please…I d-didn't m-mean t-t-to, i…"

"UP," spat Tom.

Avery stood up on trembling feet and squeezed his eyes shut. The others in the compartment shifted around in their seats uncomfortably, though Rosier sat back and watched with a gleam on his face. Tom pointed his wand directly at Avery and watched him curl into a ball on the floor and bite his tongue so as not to scream at the pain.

The start-of-year feast was the same as usual. After the Sorting Ceremony, the students dined under the candle-lit ceiling and amongst excited conversations recounting summer activities. Several new Slytherins had joined the table. Half way through the feast, Professor Kettleburn called all the prefects for a brief meeting to tell them that it was their job to guide the first years to their houses and explain the school rules to them. It was also their job to confiscate illegal items, report to teachers if there were any problems, and so on.

And so, as Headmaster Dippet wished everyone a good year, Tom rose from his seat and motioned for the 17 frightened first-year Slytherins to follow him. Just before he could escape the traffic of the Great Hall exit however, Professor Dumbledore stopped him.

"Good evening, Tom," he said, brightly. "How was your summer?"

"It was fine, professor, and yours?" said Tom, mechanically.

"Oh it was pretty dull," said Dumbledore, casually. "I dare say a little excitement would cheer me up. You know, some extraordinary event."

"I understand what you mean, sir," said Tom.

Dumbledore considered him for a moment.

"I see that you've made prefect status," he beamed. "Congratulations."

"Thank you, sir," said Tom, bowing his head once.

"I'm sure you'll enjoy it," said Dumbledore, "and the many things that it offers."

"Sir?" said Tom.

"Good night, Tom," said Dumbledore, smiling again.

He left.

He was onto him, thought Tom as he led the first-year Slytherins to the dungeons. But how could he be? It was impossible. There was no way that he could know what Tom was planning. Not even the Death Eaters knew, and now that Tom understood how unreliable Avery was, it was very unlikely that they would find out anytime soon.

Just before turning the corner, Tom bumped into a really tall, heavy figure.

"Watch where you're going!" He called after it.

"S-s-sorry!" called the figure in a low voice.

Tom stopped in the middle of the corridor and stared at it. The little first-years anxiously looked around.

"Hey!" called Tom. "Come back here!"

The figure stopped abruptly and turned around.

"What?" it said.

"Come here," demanded Tom..

Hesitating slightly, the figure approached him. It was very tall indeed and had long black hair.

"Who are you?" said Tom, narrowing his eyes.

"M-my name is, uh, Rubeus Hagrid," said the figure.

"Are you a Gryffindor?" said Tom, glancing at the red and yellow tie on the giant's front.

"Uh, yessir," said Hagrid.

"Then what are you doing in this side of the castle?"

"I...I was jus' explorin'," said Hagrid.

"Really?" Tom was not amused. "How old are you? Why are you so giant?"

"I'm a third-year," said Hagrid. "And who are you?"

"I'm a prefect," said Tom, raising an eyebrow. "Go back to your side of the castle, giant."

Hagrid frowned at Tom for a moment, and then descended from the corridor. Tom led the first-years into the Slytherin Common room and gathered them around in a circle.

"The boys' dormitories are over there and the girls' are over there, any questions?" said Tom, glancing at his watch. It was almost time for bed which meant the other Slytherins would be arriving soon.

"When do we get our schedules for classes?" asked a quiet, dark-haired boy in the back.

"Tomorrow at breakfast, any other questions?" said Tom.

"How do we-"

"Alright then, off to bed!" called Tom, dismissing the group without a glance at the boy he'd just cut off.

Tom took his copy of The Immortals Among Us and sat in an armchair by the window, waiting. As the minutes ticked away, more and more Slytherins arrived in the common room, chatting amongst themselves. Some stayed there while others went straight to bed. When Avery, Lestrange and Rosier arrived, they went their separate ways. Selwynn was apparently discussing something with Professor Beery and Rowle was sulking by the fireplace.

Finally, at half past twelve, the common room emptied. Only Tom and the Death Eaters were left. They gathered around the fireplace and welcomed Davis, their newest member.

"You are not yet part of the group," Tom reminded him. "You must first demonstrate to me your skills."

"I'll do whatever you want, sir," said Davis.

"Good," said Tom. "If you mean that, then tomorrow you will sneak off to Hogsmeade and get us Butterbeers from the Three Broomsticks."

"But I-"

"-will be happy to obey me?" said Tom, smiling. "Good, I knew you'd be. Dismissed."

Davis got to his feet, bowed, and retreated to his dormitory.

"He won't do it, Tom," said Rosier as he sat back on the couch and pulled his feet up on the coffee table. Tom raised an eyebrow at the sound of his name being said.

"Oh come on," said Rosier. "Don't you think we've proven our loyalty to you? Can't we be a little less formal, sir?"

"I decide that, Rosier," said Tom.

Rosier shrugged.

"Now," said Tom, addressing the rest of the group. "Go to bed. I'll announce the next meeting."

"Sir?" said Rowle as the boys stood up. "What's the plan for this year? Have you thought of anything yet?"

"Go to sleep, Rowle," instructed Tom, and he did.

Once back in his dormitory, Tom changed into pajamas and climbed into bed, but did not sleep for hours. It seemed that his Death Eaters were getting out of control...loosening up. He could not allow it. WOULD not allow it. They must be put in their place. They need clarification that he, soon to be named Lord Voldemort, is in charge. Smiling slightly at the brilliant name he'd crafted over the summer, Tom rolled over in his bed and closed his eyes. Tomorrow would be the start of the rest of his life.