Well, this is the longest time between chapters yet. That would be the combination of me being busy and suffering (again) from writer's block. Here it is, though. As a change of plans, I'm splitting the Tom Riddle arc into two chapters. This chapter is his childhood, pretty much stuff you'd expect from reading the books, and the next chapter will be his Hogwarts days.

Btw, all I know of Hogwarts staff from Riddle's time is Armando Dippet was Headmaster, Dumbledore taught Transfiguration, and Slughorn was potions master. The rest of the staff positions are ocs made by me. If you guys know of some staff member for sure other than them, refrain from telling me or bashing me for not including them. I'm sticking to my ocs for staff.

***It was brought to my attention that Grindlewald was defeated during Riddle's time at Hogwarts. This is true, and I completely forgot. So I'm gonna go AU on this and say he was defeated before Riddle ever came. As such, Dumbledore the Transfig teacher will have a bit more power and recognition than he had before when Riddle was in school. Should be fun to torment Riddle ^-^***

This chapter was brought to you by Centuries by Fall Out Boy, my new favorite song. :3

The night was a night like any other. There was no storm, no foreboding flashing lightning, and no wind whispering of horrors to come. The night was quiet and calm, with a clear sky full of stars and a crescent moon.

If one were to be at Wool's Orphanage, the night was strange.

For a woman, as plain as any woman could be, was giving birth that night. It became evident very soon to the Matron of the orphanage that the woman would most likely not survive the birth.

When the baby came out, they were all slightly unsettled by the boy. His brown eyes were eerily knowing, his face solemn, and there were no tears, no screaming.

The woman took him in trembling, weak arms, and stared at his face adoringly. "I hope" she whispered "he turns out to look like his father." She looked at the Matron, then, and said "His name is Tom, after his father. Tom Marvolo Riddle." And moments later, she died.

The Matron took the newly dubbed Tom from his mother's arms, looking at him with sorrow in her gaze. "No child deserves to lie in their mother's dead arms." She sighed, then, and turned to go find a crib. She failed to notice the two pairs of eyes gleaming out from a dark corner, one red and one green.

*page break

A five year old Tom Riddle cowered, fear mixed with righteous anger in his eyes. Jeers and laughter came from a group of boys standing in front of him. "Can't fight back, can ya freak?" one sneered, and then proceeded to shove him onto the ground. He curled up, obviously fighting back tears as the other boy started kicking.

Harry watched all this with a sort of dispassionate curiosity. It was interesting, he thought, how similar he and Tom Riddle truly were. If only the man hadn't gone insane in his later years.

Eventually the children grew weary of their beating and walked away, but not before kicking some dirt into Riddle's face. The boy lay on the ground in the fetal position, in obvious pain.

Harry sighed inwardly. Why couldn't something exciting happen? This was rather dull.

"Dinner!"

The call flew through the orphanage, causing every child to run in a mad dash for the dining room. It was common knowledge that the best food was given out first. Best, of course, was a relative term, as the food was far from good.

A six year old Tom Riddle followed the other children at a more sedate pace. He knew that even if he were to hurry, he would not get the best food, as the caretakers had decided long ago that he was 'unnatural'. Whether they said it out loud or not, he could tell. It made resentment burn in his mind.

What did they know of him? Did they ever try to help him? No! That was why he had to punish the other boys. No one would help him. He had to rely on only himself. For that, he needed to be more powerful than the other boys. That had been easily done. The strange powers he had been born with were hard to control at first, but he had kept at it.

If he wanted them hurt, they hurt. If he wanted them scared, they were scared all right.

It was satisfying how easily cowed the boys were. Of course, he didn't blame them. He knew he could be rather terrifying when he wanted to be. Sadly, the caretakers were not as oblivious to this as he might wish them to be, no matter how charming he tried to be.

Charming. Yes. He needed to be better at manipulating people. People were like puppets- you pull one string, and they react exactly as you want them to. While slightly more unpredictable than puppets, the idea was the same.

He reached the dining room, and was handed a bowl of porridge with a stale piece of bread. He glared balefully at the pitiful meal but starting eating with jerky, almost mechanical movements. He was not paying attention to his surroundings at all, and in hindsight that had been his first mistake.

A meaty fist belonging to the most overweight kid at the orphanage pulled the porridge out of his grasp, sneering. "It's mine now, Riddlesticks!" He laughed, as if he thought the nickname was particularly clever.

Tom fumed, inwardly furious. How dare the heathen take his food! It was not the first time, but it would be the last. Oh yes, after this no one would dare cross him.

With one last glare, he turned and walked away, already planning his next move.

*page break

"Director! I'm glad you decided to see us." Here Harry smiled, a malicious edge to it that was quite evident.

Sebastian stood by him, studying the goblin in fascination. He had never seen one before.

The Director of Gringotts stared at them both, fear evident in his eyes. "Ah, yes, how could I refuse?" His eyes darted nervously between them.

"What else other than a vault?" Harry smirked.

The Director looked unsure. "A…vault?"

Sebastian looked amused. "What did you think we came here for? To coerce you into letting us into one of your more wealth client's vaults?"

The Director gulped and looked away.

Sebastian laughed. "That is what you thought, isn't it? No, just get us a vault. We would like the highest security you have."

The Director cleared his throat, slightly terrified of their reaction to his question. "What, exactly, do you need a vault for?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, and then said sarcastically "To ride unicorns in. No, to store something, you dolt. But if you really want to know…" Here, he raised his hand, a necklace gleaming in his grasp. The Director stared at it, his eyes wide. "How…where did you get that?"

Harry simply shrugged. "I'm not that charitable."

*page break

"Ahhhhh!"

Riddle smirked at the horrified scream. It had taken them less time for them to find the rabbit than he'd thought it would take. It didn't matter, of course, as he had made sure he was far from it from the moment he'd been done.

He idly wondered what exactly they would do. Finding a dead rabbit hanging by a noose from the ceiling had to be traumatizing. He knew that they would suspect him. He was the weirdo, the freak, after all.

No matter. All he needed was to be feared.

"Hello, Mr. Riddle. I am a Professor from a school-"

Riddle interrupted "A professor? You're a doctor, aren't you. They told you to come in here and-"

"If you would let me finish, Mr. Riddle." The man sounded aggrieved.

Riddle sulked silently, glaring at the man. If they were forcing him to go to some asylum, they would have another think coming. There was no way he was letting this man take him.

"As I was saying, my name is Albus Dumbledore. I come from a school for special children, a school you have been chosen for."

Riddle glared. "What do you mean by special?" he asked, his eyes guarded.

"Have you ever done something strange? Something no one else can do?"

Riddle carefully concealed his surprise. "Like what?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Like magic, my dear boy."

Inwardly Riddle growled. 'His dear boy?' He was no one's dear boy. On another note, a level of delight he had never known before was spreading through him. Magic! He was different than those…those…idiots. He needed a term more derogatorily appropriate.

"Magic? You mean what I can do, it's magic?" He injected some childish excitement into his voice. It wouldn't do to come off even more as strange. If he was going to this school, he would have to start over. Dumbledore might have an inkling of something off about him now, he needed to erase it.

"Yes. Hogwarts is a school for magic. Now, Tom. I believe there is something that wants out?"

At that point, the wardrobe burst into flames. Riddle barely refrained from jumping back in shock. He stared at the wardrobe expressionlessly, yet inwardly he was horror struck. In that wardrobe was everything he owned! This man had no right, no right to come barging in only to burn his meager possessions!

He opened his mouth, about to unleash a furious diatribe, when Dumbledore spoke. "Something wants out, Tom. Why don't you go and take a look?" He froze, incredulous. The man was burning is things, and now he wanted him to burn himself going to get them?

No, no that was preposterous. The flames were magical, after all, so perhaps they didn't actually damage him or his things? Seizing onto this hope, he took a few steps toward the wardrobe, not taking his eyes off Dumbledore. The man was obviously a threat, and his years of being bullied had made him learn to never turn your back on a threat.

He cautiously reached out and, when he felt nothing from the flames, opened the wardrobe. His eyes flew to a rattling container, where he knew he kept the things he had taken from the other children. This man wanted him to give them back? They were his. He had taken them as retribution for the attacks of the other children. He deserved them.

"Open it, Tom." He glared at the box, but complied, taking it out and opening it. Inside were the things he had taken. Dumbledore stared down his nose at him, his eyes frosty. "At Hogwarts, we will not tolerate stealing, Tom. See that you return those items to their rightful owners." I am their rightful owners Tom thought furiously. These things are mine. With that thought he felt his magic swirling through him, aching to unleash itself on the old man. No. No, I can't attack him. That will make it so I can't go to Hogwarts, and beyond that, there will be repercussions from the law. Sad. This man deserves to be taken down a peg or two.

With that thought, he smiled woodenly at Dumbledore. "Of course, sir."

Dumbledore nodded, seemingly appeased. "Good, now will you need help getting your school things?" Oh, he probably would, but no way was he staying with Dumbledore longer than necessary. "I'm sure I can figure it out on my own, sir."

"Of course, my dear boy. I'm sure you'll do just fine on your own."

*page break

Harry sighed, staring at the ceiling. Who knew watching Tom Riddle's childhood could be so bloody boring? He had expected most of it, and he guess that was part of what made it so boring. There was nothing new. The most interesting parts were probably at Hogwarts, and as good as he was at being unseen and unnoticed, even he wasn't so good that he could just walk through Hogwarts wards without being let in.

But maybe he could be invited. His eyes lit up as he thought of it. He had to tell Sebastian! It was perfect.

He stood up and walked over to Sebastian, who was reading yet another book.

"Seb! I know what we can do to watch Riddle at Hogwarts!"

Sebastian looked up from his book, raising an eyebrow. Harry seemed genuinely excited. That was new.

"And what would that be?"

Harry smirked. "How would you like to be a professor with me?"

"I'm assuming, then, that if there are no openings we are going to make openings?"

Harry smiled cheerily. "You know me so well, Sebby!"

Sebastian glared. "I'll let you call me Seb, but please no Sebby."

"Then you'll be a professor with me?"

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Fine. But I'm leaving all of it up to you. I have a few things I need to go do."

Harry merely smiled again and walked away.

Harry leaned against a pole, inspecting the house of one Jeremiah Sherr. Sherr was the current Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts. So far, the man hadn't made a single appearance, and he had been watching the house since sunrise for the past few hours.

He would have simply entered a long time ago, but the wards around the house were exceedingly well done. Getting in would be simple enough, getting in without being noticed would be next to impossible.

He might was well go the simple route. There was nothing stopping him from knocking.

He walked up to the house and knocked, then waited patiently to see if anyone would answer. He waited only a few moments before the sound of footsteps reached him. He tracked the footsteps all the way to the door, where the sound of locks being unlocked emanated. The door opened, and standing in front of him was a man he had expected to never see again.

Redbeard raised an eyebrow, leaning against the door frame. "Well now, isn't this a surprise." Harry blinked, surprised for the first time in a long time. "I was not actually expecting you."

"No, you were expecting the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher of Hogwarts. Why?" His tone was sharp, and Harry realized he was on the defensive. This was probably the first time in a while that he had been surprised.

Harry knew lying to him would be supremely foolish, so he instead replied truthfully "I was going to Imperious him to resign and recommend me to be the new teacher." His tone was matter of fact, with not a hint of guilt.

Redbeard snorted. "Of course you were. Fine, I won't ask. I'll resign and recommend you. What name do you want to go as?" Harry blinked. He hadn't expected so soon a capitulation or any capitulation at all.

"Pravus Michaelis." With no further comment, Redbeard stepped back and closed the door in his face. Harry stared at the door for a moment before turning around to go back to Sebastian. That had been interesting.

Harry combed his fingers through his hair, inspecting the changes to his face. He had made his jaw narrower, with a light smattering of reddish stubble. His hair was fire red, and slicked back, making it look rather like flames. His eyes were the same ethereally intense green, as the spells that changed eye color tended to affect the quality of eyesight over time. He stuck with the small, lithe build and average height.

Done with that, he slipped on black robes over tan trousers and a white button down. He hated robes and how they restricted movement, but knew it was necessary to stay in traditional wizard garb for at the very least his job interview.

A week after retelling the story of visiting Jeremiah Sherr's house to Sebastian, he had gotten an owl from Headmaster Dippet requesting a job interview from him. It was obvious that Redbeard had done as asked.

Sebastian watched his primping with an amused look on his face. "You'll do fine, love. You have the recommendation of the previous teacher. This is just a formality."

Harry sighed. "I'm not nervous, Seb, you know that. I'm just making sure there are no irregularities with the appearance charms."

Sebastian smirked. "I know."

Harry rolled his eyes and walked over to the fireplace, taking some green floo powder from a bowl. He threw it into the flames, and then walked in, calling out clearly "The Leaky Cauldron."

He withstood the sickening sensation of spinning through space, and then stepped gracefully out of the fireplace once he arrived.

Waiting at a table was the current Hogwarts Groundskeeper, Vincent Yaslow. He was a wisp of a man, for someone who commonly worked with rather large dangerous creatures. Harry approached him, and held out his hand. "Pravus Michaelis. And you are?" Yaslow shook his hand. "Vincent Yaslow, Groundskeeper. I'm here to take you to Headmaster Dippet." Harry dipped his head. "Lead the way."

Yaslow led Harry to one of the apparition points of Diagon alley, before holding out his hand. Harry took it, and with a crack and a turn they were gone. Within moments they were dumped at the Hogwarts front gate, Yaslow stumbling but managing to stay on his feet. Harry landed, catlike, on his feet with his knees bent to absorb the impact.

He stood gracefully, and inspected Hogwarts as if he were seeing it for the first time. The school looked much the same as it had when he attended, not that he was expecting much else. It was a castle, after all.

He turned to Yaslow, who was watching his reaction to the schoo. "Shall we be off, then?" The man nodded. "Of course, of course, come with me." He walked up to the gates, which swung open in welcome. They trekked up the path to the school silently, before Yaslow attempted to break the silence, which was no doubt awkward for his part. "You knew Jeremiah? The Headmaster told me he had recommended you."

Harry replied blandly "I knew him, yes." Yaslow looked put out by the brief answer but said nothing else, seeming to get the point that he wouldn't get much conversation out of Pravus.

They reached the entrance to Hogwarts, which also swung open upon them nearing it. They walked through the halls of Hogwarts to the entrance to the Headmaster's office, guarded by a stone gargoyle. "Daffodils." The gargoyle slid to the side, with the door opening.

Harry raised an eyebrow at the choice of password, but nodded goodbye to Yaslow before climbing the rotating staircase.

Upon reaching the top, he was greeted by a beaming Headmaster Armando Dippet. "Mr. Michaelis! How good of you to accept my interview offer! This is just a formality, you understand, Jeremiah's recommendation is good enough for me!"

This man, Harry mused, is an idiot. Just because the previous teacher recommended him meant nothing about his intentions, all it really proved was he was competent and able to teach. Inwardly he shrugged. From what he had heard of Armanado Dippet, he hadn't been expecting much else.

"I was only too delighted to receive your job offer, Headmaster. I've always wanted to teach at Hogwarts, but it never seemed to be the right time, you see."

Dippet beamed again. "That's wonderful, wonderful indeed. I'm sure you'll do well at the job." The rest of the so called 'job interview' was Dippet making small talk about inconsequential things. By the end of it, Harry was ready to bash the man's head into the wall. Repeatedly.

He was shaken out of his delightful reverie by Dippet exclaiming "You'll have to have your book list sent in before we send out the acceptance letters for the year, and send you're lesson plans to Deputy Headmaster Dumbledore and for review. I'm sure you'll do fine!" He was ushered out of the office.

That, he reflected, was a huge waste of time.

Note: Redbeard's name is not Jeremiah Sherr. It is an alias. I thought that was obvious, but I guess not so much