Tom dashed down the hallway. His gaze darted wildly, glancing over the decrepit walls. He could hear the maniacal laughter behind him. It felt so close.

He pushed forward.

He ran, stumbling over his own feet, but miraculously, he never fell. The hallway just kept going. It was dark, and he couldn't see the end. Was there even an end?

Tom didn't want to find out, so he just kept running.

The laughter was closing in. It was echoing all around him, closer. Closer. Tom risked a glance back, instantly regretting it. There it was, speeding towards Tom, face stretched wide in a malicious grin, illuminated by an ominous red glow.

Tom sucked in a breath and whipped his head back around, the panic in his chest rising. His eyes were wide, focused on nothing but what was in front of him— or what wasn't.

The laughs grew closer. The hallway wasn't ending.

He sprinted, hoping desperately for an exit. The walls felt as though they were closing in on him. Were they closing in on him? Debris fell from the ceilings, the walls cracked, but Tom kept running.

There was no ending.

He felt its presence steadily approaching him, and he stumbled forward as fast as his legs could take him. The laughs echoed all around him, goading him, taunting him.

He kept running. The laughter grew louder. Tom dashed, breathing uncontrollably, cold sweat rolling down his forehead. They grew even louder, unbearably loud. He pushed forward—and there it was.

A doorway—an exit.

He sprinted towards it, praying he would make it in time. It was there, so close, just out of reach. He leaped—

The floor crumbled underneath him, plunging him into a void.

Tom groped desperately, but the exit drew further… and further…and eventually, it was consumed by the darkness.

He continued falling, deeper and deeper into the pitch black void. He found himself standing in the darkness, alone.

Tom tried to call out. 'Hello?' but no one replied. He glanced around.

Where was everyone?

He tried walking, but he didn't seem to go anywhere. It was quiet—unsettlingly so. Tom felt his heart rate pick up once more.

'Hello?' He tried again. Silence. Tom bit his lip, feeling more and more unnerved by the second.

Where is mum—CRASH—Tom jumped at the loud sound, and jerked his head around to find the source.

At first it was just darkness. And then a spotlight switched on, illuminating something lying beneath it. Tom squinted, trying to make out what—or who— it was. It looked vaguely familiar, no, very familiar. Tom took a step forward.

He tried to get a closer look, but then the body rolled over, and he froze.

Tom's frightened gaze met her vacant stare. Blood dripped from her forehead, and more slowly pooled around her. He gulped, heart pounding in his ears.

'M-mum?'he croaked out, taking another step forward. The body didn't respond.

'Mum?!' Tom repeated, starting towards her. He needed to reach her— to save her. He couldn't suffer alone, not anymore.

Her arm twitched, almost as if she was trying to reach out to him.

'Wait for me! Please!'

She kept reaching out, hand reaching towards him. She was drawing further, and further…

'Don't- don't leave me! Please!' He cried out in desperation, lapsing into a sprint. He pushed himself as fast as he could go. He just needed to reach her, to hold her hand one more time— But the more he ran, the further she seemed to be getting.

'Mar…vo…lo…' His mother's voice, although weak, rang loud in his head.

'MUM!'

The spotlight switched off— and he was left in the darkness. Alone.

He looked around desperately, breathing ragged, searching for someone, anyone, but there was nothing. It was just emptiness.

'Please! Come back!' He called, pleading, his voice cutting through the quiet like a knife. But it was for naught. It was pure silence, with nothing but his own breathing to fill it. And Tom hated it. It made him feel small, helpless…

Alone.

'No…' Tom whispered, grabbing his hair. 'no, no, NO!' He let out a choked sob. 'You-you can't leave me, mum! I-I need you! Please…' he sank down to his knees, covering his face and taking deep breaths, doing his best not to cry. 'I can't be alone…'

'Oh but you aren't, boy.'

Tom went cold. It was a voice he didn't want to hear, not now, not ever—

'You caused her death, you know,' the voice went on, echoing all around him. 'You were the one that did this—'

'No!' Tom shouted into the void. 'No! It- it was you, I-I—'

'If you didn't exist, she didn't have to die trying to protect a freak like you,' the voice cut him off, hissing, words hitting Tom harder than a bullet to the heart.

Tom stared at his hands in disbelief. Was it true? What…what if it really was his fault? Did he cause his mother to die?

'It—it can't be…' He hunched over, posture defeated, his terrified gaze never leaving his hands.

'Oh, but it can,' the voice replied, reverberating all around him. 'It was all you…You were the one that caused her so much pain— You were the one that caused her suffering— You killed her.'

'I…I…I killed mum…' Tom echoed helplessly, hands trembling.

'You killed her…' It whispered, tone low, 'and now—'

The voice cut off. He felt a presence behind him.

Tom whipped around, and he saw the Master looming over him, grinning maliciously, beer bottle in hand and raised high. Tom froze, eyes wide. The Master's grin grew.

'You have to pay the price.'

He swung the bottle down. Tom squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the impact—

—–––—

—and he awoke with a jolt, breathing ragged, clothes drenched in cold sweat.

—–––—

[Early-December 1933]

—

Tom sat in a bed, panting, eyes wide in panic. He gripped his head, trying to calm himself down.

It-it was just a dream, Tom, you don't have to panic. It was just a dream. Just…a dream…

He took an unsteady breath. It was just a dream, not— He took another breath— not real…

He could feel his heart slowing down ever so slightly, feeling just a little bit calmer. Yes, it was all just a dream. He carefully lowered his trembling hands, and stared at them. Memories of something flashed before his eyes.

Was it a dream?

Tom turned rigid, the events of what happened hitting him all at once.

When his mother shielded him. As the beer bottle was flung across the room. As it crashed into her skull and exploded into a million pieces. The cruel, sadistic expression on the Master's face. Her body, sprawled across the floor, blood pooling around her head and splattered…everywhere…And how he held her hand as she…she…

Tom covered his mouth, heart rate picking up once again, mind racing.

No…no, it can't—

It felt as though the whole world was collapsing on him. He took strained breaths, throat feeling like it was closing in on itself.

"It…no, Mum can't…" he gasped, refusing to believe it. He had to see his mother, he had to see for himself.

He moved hastily, scrambling off the bed he was on, the soft material suddenly hard and uncomfortable. He had to get out. He had to see his mum; He—

Wait, bed?

He paused, looking up for the first time since he awoke. He had just taken notice of where he currently was. Tom looked back to what he had just gotten down from. It was a simple thing, with metal frames and a plain white blanket, but nonetheless, it was a bed. He nervously glanced around, taking in the dank walls and sparse interior.

This…this wasn't the master's house. This wasn't his hatch. And he wasn't supposed to have a bed.

But most importantly, if he wasn't at the master's house, then his mother wasn't here either.

He was—where really was he? Who took him? Why—?

Tom felt himself panicking more and more by the second. His wide eyes darted around, trying desperately to make sense of what was going on.

As he scanned the room for anything that could point to where he was, something on the shelves caught his eye.

Was that…?

He blinked, focusing on the object. There it was, a baby-like doll which was— ahem— naked, and had a ridiculously embarrassing heart symbol in the middle. It largely appeared to be the same as he had last seen it, aside from some odd burn marks in some places. (Tom did not notice them in his panic, much to Severus' luck)

Tom blushed at the memory which came up at the sight of the doll, biting his lip, momentarily forgetting the situation he was in. Then, a question popped into his mind.

But that's the doll I gave the tall man, so why is it here?

He searched around further, and noticed that the book he had seen the tall man reading was lying on the desk next to the shelf. Why were all these things that belonged to the tall man lying around? He tried to calm himself and focus, but his thoughts just refused to make sense.

Then, something clicked. His panic and grief-addled brain finally started to make connections.

If the doll that he had given to the tall man was here, then this had to be the tall man's room, right? Then, did the tall man bring him here?

Tom frowned, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to recall anything past the…he gulped. But no, he was alright, wasn't he? If it was really the tall man that had brought him here to his house, then he was safe, right?

He could vaguely remember a familiar and somewhat…secure presence that had approached him at that moment. He recalled the feeling of being lifted up, followed by an unpleasant tug somewhere in his gut, before everything went black.

It must've been the tall man. He didn't know anyone else that made him not fear for his safety, other than his…his…Tom could feel his heart picking up once again, and forced himself not to think about her.

It's alright, he thought, clenching his fists tightly. Mum's alright. She…she's better… Just stop worrying, Tom, you'll make things worse.

Yet, he could feel tears forming in his eyes. He blinked furiously, trying his best not to let them fall.

He's experienced much more serious situations than this, so why wasn't he feeling more composed? More calm? He should know by now that it was no use to cry. It never changed anything.

Tom slid down against the bedside onto the floor, hugging his knees to his chest.

Maybe, he told himself, maybe if I just pretend, then everything will get better. Maybe everything will stop. Maybe I won't have to feel like this anymore.

And so he sat there, rocking himself back and forth, chanting in his head over and over that it would be alright. That he didn't do anything wrong. That she's safe. That he didn't cause her to die.

—–––—

[Early-December 1933]

—

Well, that was certainly something, Severus thought as he apparated directly outside the apothecary.

He glanced down at himself, quickly checking his appearance before pushing open the door, the doorbell tinkering as he stepped into the shop. He had taken a tad longer on his little errand than he expected, dragging it out until the early morning.

Although, Severus thought, smirking to himself, it was not unwarranted.

Regardless, he needed to request for a singular day off, not wanting to leave Riddle on his own for too long. He was no expert in dealing with children, but he understood well enough that a child who experienced the trauma that Riddle did should not be left alone to their own devices.

He knew that Ashurn would likely be in the apothecary at this time, despite it being earlier than opening hours. He was always earlier than Severus, no matter what time he showed up.

Sure enough, there the man was, sitting behind the counter reading that day's issue of "Candour Wizards Weekly", a newspaper organisation that didn't exist in the future, and it made sense, considering the time gap. The Daily Prophet likely wasn't even founded then.

Severus swiftly strode over to Ashurn, black dragonhide boots clicking softly on the wooden floorboards.

"I need a day off."

Ashurn didn't glance up.

"And greetings to you as well, Snape," he replied mildly, flipping a page. Severus merely gave Ashurn a pointed look, not amused.

"Right. Well, pleasantries aside, I need a day off." Severus repeated, hoping to speed the process up.

"And why is that?"

"Personal matters."

"Well now, that's hardly convincing."

Severus tsked. Of course. "Do I need to give a reason?"

Ashurn shrugged nonchalantly, eyes still fixated on the article in front of him. "Not necessarily, but I would like to know why you, who has never once in the six months you have worked here asked for a day off, suddenly request for one."

Severus sighed, crossing his arms. He should've known that Ashurn would question his sudden decision, being the meddling employer that he was.

He could provide a lie, but that would just complicate things for him in the future. It would likely be better for him just to tell the truth and get this over and done with.

"If you must know, I currently hold temporary responsibility for a child. I would prefer not to leave him unattended."

Ashurn didn't react at first, staring blankly at the newspaper, before he finally looked up at Severus with a confused expression. He blinked.

"I'm sorry?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Yes. However unlikely you might find it, I do have a child to look after for the time being—–"

"You're kidding."

"This is not up for discussion," Severus deadpanned, tapping his foot on the wooden floor impatiently.

"I beg to differ—You? With a child?"

"He is not of my own," Severus quickly added, seeing Ashurn's growing smile, "but is merely someone that needs a temporary location to reside, and I am currently the only person available to look after him."

Ashurn continued to give him that irritating grin. "Are you sure he isn't yours?" Severus glared at him. "Alright, alright," he conceded, shrugging. Then his expression turned curious, and he eyed Severus up and down speculatively. "But how in the world did you, of all people, end up taking care of a child?"

"That is not of importance at this moment—"

"I think it is pretty important," Ashurn interjected, raising an eyebrow.

"—but what is of importance is that I require a day off, which is taking far longer to acquire than I imagine it usually does, due to your insistent meddling." Severus glared at Ashurn once more.

The man in question simply gave him an innocent look.

"Whatever do you mean? I'm no meddler, just a caring boss that looks out for their employees!"

"I should have just walked out of here the moment I informed you of my plans," Severus muttered under his breath. In fact, he considered doing just that.

"Well, you can't fault me for wanting to know what my employee is doing on a day off— I am quite the benevolent benefactor," he said, smirking.

"What a benevolent benefactor indeed," Severus said dryly. Ashurn simply gave him a smug look. But then, his expression turned thoughtful.

"Although…"

"What is the matter now?"

Ashurn tilted his head, as if contemplating him. "Don't you live in a room at the Leaky Cauldron's inn?"

Severus furrowed his eyebrows. "Yes…and what significance does that add to this conversation?"

Ashurn hummed, folding up the newspaper and laying it on the counter. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, eyeing Severus.

"Well, it's hardly the safest area nowadays, is it?" Ashurn said lightly, tapping his finger on the cover article of the newspaper. Severus peered down at it.

Right at the top of the page were the bold headlines; 'GRINDELWALD STRIKES AGAIN! What does he plan to do next?'

Severus went cold, mind already piecing together the implication.

He quickly scanned the article. As expected, it was about the victims of Grindelwald's attacks as well as Dumbledore's 'heroic efforts', as they called it, namely more focused on the latter. Of course, the only images of the attackers were blurry— only a few vague silhouettes were visible.

Despite all the information, there was only one detail that really caught his eye.

The location of the attack.

Severus glanced up, and his dark, obsidian eyes locked with those oddly piercing blue-white ones. He narrowed his eyes, and Ashurn simply kept their gazes locked, making Severus a tad suspicious. He sub-consciously reinforced his occlumency shields.

Eventually, Severus broke eye contact, shifting his gaze out the apothecary's windows and onto the bustling street. He observed the witches and wizards strolling by as he considered Ashurn's statement.

Severus pursed his lips together.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, Ashurn did give a good point, one that Severus should have considered the moment he thought of bringing Riddle into the wizarding world.

The attack had been close to the Leaky Cauldron, and dangerously so. Based on the article, it had apparently occurred the night before, while he was away.

Severus' finger twitched. If something had happened to Riddle that night… He clenched his jaw.

He didn't know why he cared so much about Riddle at this point. Perhaps it was because he had already invested so much time in the child—that seemed to be the best fitting explanation.

Regardless, it was honestly quite miraculous how Riddlethe building had remained unscathed in the aftermath, considering the supposed spells used in the attack.

But such a miracle was not guaranteed to happen again.

Living in the inn had never been an issue, but if a kid like Riddle was staying with him...Severus pursed his lips together once more.

Bringing the child to the inn was an impulse move, something that he usually never does— and the one time he did act on impulse, the implications caught up to him almost immediately.

Severus sighed. He could never grasp how Gryffindors manage to pull such feats off so often and with such success.

In all honesty, he had somewhat discredited the threat that Grindelwald posed. It was a rather foolish thought, he knew, even if the attacks and whatever anti-muggle nonsense that Grindelwald was promoting hadn't necessarily affected his life or been a threat to him in particular. At the end of the day, the man was still one of the most powerful wizards in his era, if not in history.

"Shouldn't you at least get a proper living space?"

Ashurn's voice brought Severus out of his thoughts. He glanced back, staring at the man who had reopened the newspaper, but was still calmly observing him from behind it.

"Pardon?"

"It seems to be the natural thing to do in your predicament."

Severus narrowed his eyes. "You believe that purchasing a residence will alleviate the danger?"

Ashurn paused, cold gaze flicking up and landing on him for a second, before returning back to the newspaper. "Well…I suppose not entirely— danger is all around us after all. But," he grinned, "it would be nice not to live in a dank inn room for the rest of your life, eh?"

"Hm." Severus' expression remained blank as he regarded the man.

It certainly was possible— He did have enough money saved to buy a house, and it wasn't as though maintenance would be an issue. It might even provide Riddle with a greater safety, should the place be located further from public areas, where these attacks would likely occur.

He frowned. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like buying a house was only for the better. Perhaps it was something he should consider in the near future.

Severus shook his head. He was thinking too much about the matter. At this point it wasn't the biggest concern, but getting back to Riddle was. All he needed was a day off, and he had allowed Ashurn to sidetrack him too far.

He turned back to the man behind the counter.

"In any case, I am assuming that I am allowed to leave?"

"Oh most certainly," Ashurn replied lightly. "It was just a little food for thought, nothing big." He lifted his head to smirk at Severus. "Enjoy your babysitting session!"

Severus sighed. "Quite so. Well, I shall take my leave." He gave a curt nod before pivoting sharply on his heel and striding over to the entrance.

"Just one last suggestion, Snape—"

Severus looked back, clearly annoyed. "Yes?"

"If you are searching for a safer place to live, I do have a vacant living space upstairs."

"...Right. And is there anything else you would like to 'suggest'?" Severus asked, tone clipped.

"No, no. Just, eh, consider it, will you?" Ashurn observed Severus from behind the newspaper. Severus narrowed his eyes in response.

"You seem quite adamant on this lodging situation, Ashurn," he said, studying the other. His dark eyes met those piercing ones once more, before Ashurn lowered his gaze back down to the newspaper, shrugging.

"Just a suggestion— and mind you, I'm being extremely generous! I don't imagine you'll find any other employer that'll give you a good salary and provide a good living space!" Ashurn patted himself on the back, looking smug. "Good job me; it's a shame certain employees fail to recognise that."

Severus exhaled sharply, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "Is this all you've held me back for, your theatrics?"

"It's barely theatrical, only an accurate depiction of the truth." Ashurn chuckled to himself, but glanced back up at Severus with surprising seriousness. "But the offer is on the table, if only for your information."

Severus eyed the man, but inclined his head nonetheless.

"Very Well." And with that, he swiftly stepped out of the apothecary into the cold weather, and apparated away.

Ashurn stared at the spot where Severus had been, before vanishing the newspaper with a wave and standing up in one swift motion. With another quick wave of his hand, the lights in the apothecary dimmed, and he disapparated with a tiny 'pop'.

To be continued

[Note: This was supposed to be one full chapter with the next chapter, chapter 14, but it ended up with 9k words— so I decided to split them up to help with pacing a little. But the next chapter will be uploaded faster, because it only needs a bit more editing! That's why this chapter feels a little incomplete, unfortunately :( But I do hope you enjoyed nonetheless! I hope you look forward to the next one :D]