Thank you for reading! I don't own any of Harry Potter! Please let me know if you enjoy! Updates every Saturday!

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Merope Gaunt wore a frown on her pale face as she escorted her eleven-year-old son to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters early one autumn morning.

She glanced down at her dark-haired little boy after they successfully made it onto the platform by running at the brick wall that seperated the magical world from the muggle realm.

"Is that it, Mother?" Young Tom Riddle asked as he kept a firm grasp on Merope's hand.

"Yes, that's it, Tom." She answered with a wry smile as she nodded at the massive train a short distance in front of them, "That's the Hogwarts Express."

Tom fell silent as he stared at the locomotive while he and his mother approached.

Merope bit her lip against the pressure he put on her hand as he crushed it in his grasp.

Children ran up and down the platform, some Tom's age, some older, but all eagerly anticipating another year of magical education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Tom didn't seem to share in their enthusiasm.

Once they drew close enough to the train, she smiled at her son, "Don't you want to let go of my hand, sweetheart? The other boys your age aren't clutching their parents."

"You're my mother." Tom scowled, "If the others say anything rude, I'll set them on fire."

"Now, Tom……" Merope said with a nervous smile, "Remmeber what we talked about?"

Tom cast his mother a frigid scowl while he kept his agonizing grip on her hand.

"You'll make lots of friends if you'll just be yourself." Merope nodded, although doubt lingered in her mind at her own words, "But to do that, you can't be this angry. You have to be sweet and kind, alright? And thoughtful……You can be thoughtful, sweetheart. Think about the time you defended me from that robber! That was very thoughtful!"

"That man was trying to hurt you." Tom frowned.

"He was, yes, you're right." Merope nodded, "And it was very thoughtful of you to fend him off, my darling!"

"...No one hurts my mother." Tom said very slowly as a dangerous scowl darkened his handsome face.

Merope frowned at the grim seriousness of her child's expression.

"Don't be that way, sweetheart." She said to quickly change the subject as she laid a hand on Tom's cheek, "You're as handsome as your father. You'll be an alpha too, I'm certain. With a single smile, I'll bet you can break ten hearts!"

"I don't want to smile." Tom scowled.

Merope's frown returned.

"And I don't want to break hearts." He grouched, "I want to go home and chat with the snake in the garden. How can you do this, Mother? How can you send me away?"

"Oh, sweetheart……." Merope sighed as she knelt to be eye level with Tom, "I know you've been raised in our little flat, but I have to work two jobs just to keep us there. I want better for you! You are," She continued as she sat Tom's trunk down and grasped his other hand, "So very talented…….and brave……and determined. You will go far in this world, my darling! If you stay with me though and shun the opportunity to receive a proper education, you'll fall short, Tom. Is that what you want?"

"Would that disappoint you, Mother?" Tom frowned.

"It would break my heart." Merope pouted.

Tom stiffened as if he had just been given an execution sentence.

Merope watched the veil of resolute ambition pass over her young son's pale features before he sniffed and said, "And if I do this…If I get on the train and go to……Hogwarts…….you'll be proud of me?"

"My darling, you don't yet know what I've had to do to secure your scholarship! Since your conception, Tom, my entire life has been about you! Everything I've done, everything I have, it's all for you, sweetheart! It's all for you!" She exclaimed.

Tom visibly gloated as a proud grin washed over his face.

Suddenly, the train whistle interrupted their chat.

Merope and Tom both looked over to watch the other children hurriedly begin to board before Merope squeezed Tom's hands and asked, "Will you do this for me, sweetheart? Will you take the chance I've given you?"

"Yes, Mother." Tom promised as he gazed into Merope's dark eyes, "I will."

"There's my sweet boy!" Merope smiled as she slowly stood.

Tom threw his arms around her in a hug that was as sincere as it was possessive.

Merope patted his back as she returned his affection and asked, "Study hard, alright? And mind your professors."

Tom nodded silently.

"And remember, dear, no talking to snakes if you happen to find any." She chided.

Still hugging his mother, Tom narrowed his dark eyes as he listened to her words.

He chose not to nod at that command, but instead released Merope, collected his trunk, and hesitantly walked onto the train.

Tom readily filtered into the first empty compartment that faced the tracks, sat down, and waved to his mother until the train left the station.

As Merope waved back while she watched her little boy begin his Hogwarts journey, a heavy sigh escaped her lips.

She had been reassured by one doctor after another that the angst Tom displayed was normal for a boy his age, a mere indication he would in fact, most likely present as an alpha.

Regardless, Merope couldn't rid herself of the notion that no other eleven-year-olds seemed quite so………..dark.

Possessive.

Protective.

Intense.

Merope silently wondered to herself how Tom would progress as he aged.

Although she lacked a formal education, Merope's own magical talents forced her to question if she hadn't permanently impaired her son by her sinister relationship with his father.

She had heard it said on more than one occasion in the magical world that a child begotten of forced consent would be born entrenched in darkness.

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Tom sat by himself with a frown on his face as he watched his peers hurry to and fro in the hallway outside his lonely compartment.

As he noticed that the other children laughed and talked with each other, vines of green envy sprouted in his heart.

His frown melted into a deep scowl until someone very interesting came into his view.

A girl, who looked to be about his age, passed by, glanced in his direction, flashed him a brilliant smile, and walked on.

Tom drew a sharp breath as he gasped.

Her dark hair reminded him of his mother.

Her bright, green eyes reminded him of his favourite snake's scales in the garden outside of the apartment building in which he had been raised.

Distraught that the girl had gone as quickly as she came, he moved to stand until she reappeared, having turned around and returned.

Tom blinked as she opened the door to his compartment, frowned, and asked, "Sorry to bother you……I was a bit late finding the platform……Is there anyway I could sit with you? I've looked for an empty compartment and there doesn't seem to be one."

"Sure, you can……sit……with me." Tom nodded.

His heart skipped a beat as she carelessly walked into his life, er, compartment.

Eager to act as a perfect gentleman, Tom stood and helped her place her trunk in the overhead bin before they both sat down in opposite seats.

"Thanks." The girl nodded as she stuck a hand out towards him, "I'm a first year, so I'm afraid I don't know many people yet. My name is Harriet Potter."

"I'm a first year too." Tom replied as he reached out and readily shook Harriet's hand, "My name is Tom Riddle."

The warmth in Harriet's smile made Tom want to gnash his teeth.

At the young age of eleven, he found something addictive yet infuriating about Harriet Potter as they began to chat while the train chugged along.

"Are you excited?" Tom asked once their conversation came to a pause.

"Oh, yeah." Harriet nodded, "I can't wait to get away from my aunt and uncle."

"Your aunt and uncle?" Tom scowled.

"My cousin too…..my family." Harriet shrugged, "My parents died when I was a baby……..So I live with my aunt and uncle….and my cousin. They're not the best sort of people."

"Are they muggles?" He snapped.

"...What difference does that make?" Harriet blinked, "They are muggles, but I don't mind that. They're not kind to me, that's the problem."

Tom furrowed his brow as he gazed at Harriet.

The unignorable urge to shelter his new acquaintance from the coldness of the world was a foreign, unexpected feeling.

Unable to grab her hand for fear of seeming odd, Tom revealed, "My mother is my only parent. I've never known my father, but she's all I need. She cares for me and watches over me."

"Your mother sounds lovely." Harriet smiled wistfully.

"Not quite as lovely as you." Tom glowered.

"...What?" Harriet blinked.

"I meant," He said as he hastily sought to cover his slip of tongue, "Not as lovely as your….hair….It reminds me of hers."

Harriet smiled and glanced at the floor, unsure what to say in response to Tom's bold compliment.

She silently realized it was the first time she had ever received one.

Although they were years away from presenting, Tom learned his secondary gender then and there as he sat across from Harriet on the train.

He wanted her.

He wanted to hold her, to have her, to protect her.

Tom Riddle wanted Harriet Potter to have a need for him, to rely on him for……..anything.

Everything.

"So then, Harriet Potter, what do you like to do for fun?" He asked in an attempt to continue their conversation.

Harriet gladly continued their chat, although as she spoke, she mistook Tom's intense gaze for polite attention.

He lingered on every word she said.

He watched her face carefully during each expression she made.

Tom made certain to burn each and every second they shared together on the train ride into his memory.

By the time the magical vehicle approached its destination, Tom Riddle had succumbed to his own perils.

He hadn't found a new friend.

He hadn't made a flirtatious acquaintance.

Her smile was as hypnotic to him as her laugh.

Tom Riddle had already become obsessed with Harriet Potter.