In front of Tom, Albus Dumbledore sat in a plush armchair, with the man himself looking to be quite a bit older than last Tom saw him. However long ago that was apparently-one moment Tom was being pulled into his diary and the next he found himself crammed, apparently, in Dumbledore's desk drawer.
The boy had already pulled his wand out and pointed it at the Professor as he worked to cast an imperious spell at the man, when the wand in his hand transfigured into a snake shaped balloon. Furiously Tom glared into man's blue eyes, that should not twinkle, as he held Tom's actual wand in his hand.
"None of that now, Tom. Come, take a seat."
A chair from across the room pulled up to the other side of the Professor's desk, and it is only due to the older man holding his wand hostage that the student takes the proffered seat. A bowl of lemon drops are offered to him which are promptly declined. That damn twinkle remained in the man's eyes.
"So, you've most likely realized whatever ritual you were performing failed." Dumbledore finally spoke after taking one of the lemon drops himself and Tom immediately scoffed. The man across from him appeared to be dated many years past, what, the fifty he must have been in 1942. Tom would take a chance that he was closer to one hundred now. Obviously, the Slytherin had attained something through the ritual. Albus seemed to read this as he continued.
"The year is 1991, with about a week before the school term at Hogwarts begins. I assume, though, you were wishing to conjure something related to Harrison Evans. Not transport yourself into the future."
The man is a master at occlumency and Tom wishes to rip the man apart because there is something the older man is not telling him. Secrets are not something often kept from the Slytherin, wrangled out by lessers with his superior skills, and he has always hated Dumbledore for his ability to take that away from him.
"I'm sure you have many questions."
And at what price was Tom willing to pay for the answers?
With no other choice, Tom grit out, "You were there as soon as I entered the Chambers- you saw everything. What do you believe I was trying to obtain?" A question for a question.
Dumbledore takes a moment to peer over his half-moon shaped glasses at Tom, as if he is withholding himself from rolling his eyes. As if these were mere antics of on unruly student, but this is all Tom will give. He can manage to get himself out of Albus' grasp and work back from the bottom to reach the top, as before. He can begin his research anew, with others maybe making strides in the type of magic he is seeking. A lot can change in a short time.
"I believe you were working to call Harry's spirit towards you, and possibly summon him in this world. Instead, you've settled in a new one. Grindelwald has been defeated, and the war ended with British victory. Congratulations, Tom, you've found yourself in a much kinder time. In some ways." This seems to remind the older man of something as he dug through one of the piles, just use magic. However, Albus seems to be victorious as he exclaimed and offered a letter for Tom to take. The Slytherin simply crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow in question, "Why."
"Muggles are still unaccepting of magic when they encounter it. This includes any children placed in their care. Deliver this letter for me, as the owls have been unable or stopped from delivering them, and I will continue to answer your questions." The letter floated through the air and tucked itself in one of Tom's folded arms. He scowled as he snatched the letter before wishing he had lit the object on fire instead. Harry was a common name, but the letter seemed to incline towards Dumbledore's more menacing side. Giving him a letter with his deceased partner's name on it was simply tacky for the serene image the Professor exhumed.
"I will return your wand with some modifications. It can perform only spells I have allowed on it. I have created a port key for your travels."
Tom's wand appeared back in his school robes, which Dumbledore quickly transfigured to the plain robes students usually wore pre-sorting. Before Tom could comment, another bloody lemon drop began floating towards him.
"After you have used the port key, the next usage will take you to Diagon Alley. I'll owl the barman of the Leaky Cauldron, Tom is his name as well, I'm sure you'll get along well."
The Slytherin very much doubted it but swiftly took the port key. The tug behind his navel blessedly took him away from the insipid wizard. The young boy had no time to ponder his situation as he found himself instantly placed on a rock in the middle of the ocean with pouring rains, every inch of his skin drenched in seconds. Albus would endure a slow death, Tom would make sure.
The man had graced him with the spells to place a shield over himself as well as one to dry his clothes and he morosely made his way to the single structure on the small island. When he arrived at the door the sheer anger behind his alohomora blasted the lock open and sent the door to beat against the wall it rested on. He tromped in and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light in the room. Four figures finally come to his sight; a larger man in his pajamas aimed a rifle towards Tom while a rail thin woman with harsh features cowered behind him. On a lumpy sofa, a child that was nearing the size of his father and held the same stupid expression on his face worked to speak. And in the corner, sat a boy in tattered clothes, with a too thin blanket and dirt covering every inch of him to press that the floor was indeed where he slept.
Tom was unable to process this revelation as the owner of the rifle began waving it towards him.
"I demand that you leave at once, sir! You are breaking and entering!"
Tom sneered as he transfigured the rifle into a snake, the man promptly shrieking and dropping the poor snake to the ground instantly. The snake took a moment to shake its head and readjust from the fall before it reared up and hissed at the, now three, figures screaming. This only egged the snake on, as it began shifting to each side and rotating its tail so that it began hovering closer to them. Oh, how Tom loved the wonders of magic. The shrieks only grew as the snake slowly slithered forward so it takes a moment for Tom to hear it.
" Hullo there, do you understand me, Mr. Snake?"
The boy that had resided in the corner has shuffled forward with Avada green eyes wide in amazement as he watched the conjured snake's every movement.
Unknowing that he has flipped Tom's entire world upside down.
The snake twisted its body around so that it can seek out who spoke to it. The snake's forked tongue flicked out in appreciation, " A new speaker! I have never encountered another!"
Harry is somehow able to grow more shocked.
"Can't everyone like us speak to animals?"
The older wizard finally pulls himself together and cleared his throat, "No, Mr. Potter. The ability to speak to animals is exceptionally rare, with snake speak almost unheard of. To have this ability means one thing, however." This young boy creates so many questions in Tom's head; how does he share the Slytherin trait, how does he not know this is rare, why is the child and his entire family holed up in a ratty shack on the sea? The larger man who previously held the gun rudely interrupted his ponderings.
"Stop! I forbid you!"
Willfully forgetting the modifications on his wand, Tom raised his wand towards the huddled forms who fell back in themselves from terror.
"Forbid me from what? Telling this boy his rightful inheritance, that he possesses abilities that makes himself far superior to you filthy muggles?" The Slytherin does not require proper wand usage to push himself into the older man, Vernon Dursley's, mind through legillimency.
Vernon and Petunia Dursley staring down at a bundled form with only a sliver of the baby's face revealed through the blanket, the fresh scar on his forehead exposed.
"What are we supposed to do with it?" His wife wails.
Harry Potter, barely old enough to have past the toddler stage, balancing himself on a wooden stool as he worked to fry bacon that spit grease back at him.
Vernon Dursley snatching Harry by the arm in a home's hallway before marching him to a space under the stairs.
"Do you understand me?! Any instances of that funny stuff will get you locked up in here. No food!"
Hurt, emerald eyes shining behind broken glasses as the door was shut in his face.
Riddle forcefully pulled himself out and reveled when Vernon collapsed to the ground. There are numerous ways he can kill these three without magic, there's an endless blanket of water outside; Tom could just say that they slipped-
"Who are you?"
Harry Potter now stood fully by his side, Tom's tall stature dwarfing him. The Slytherin had to crane his neck to look down at him. Begrudgingly, the older boy settled himself down on one knee lest he get a neck cramp from conversing with the eleven year old.
"I'm a wizard. Like you, Harry. My name is Tom Riddle. I'm here to deliver your acceptance letter to the school I attend." Attended. Fifty years ago: semantics.
To illustrate this, Tom used a levitating charm to pull the letter from his robe pocket and float it into Harry's awaiting hands. The boy ravenously read it before his eyes roved to the top of the page to reread the letter in disbelief. Faintly, Tom recalls Harrison and how they had felt the same way when they received theirs.
"Now, obviously, we are past the 31st July and they are aware of the situation. We need to acquire your school supplies and ready you for your arrival to Platform 9 -" A throat was cleared and Tom turned his cold gaze to Vernon. The man flapped his mouth shut.
"Tom," Harry spoke quietly, "I don't think I'm a wizard- I don't even know who my parents are , they died in a car accident you see.."
The Slytherin would scoff at the outright lie ( Parseltongue is one of the oldest magics and a scar the shape of the Avada Kedavra is not something a muggle would easily gain. ), but the boy seemed so earnest as he seemed close to tears at the idea that someone thought he was special, that Tom allowed him to continue. The young boy finally stopped and took a calming breath as he stared imploringly at Riddle. One peak at Vernon's mind showed slips of Potter's familial origins, with both parents definitely being a witch and a wizard. As well as the lie the Dursley's gave Harry for his parents demise. Harrison would often crow to other Slytherins that he had taught Tom the wisdom of patience, which he had. Not the patience that came with enacting a drawn out plan, but the need to sometimes take things slowly with individuals. The young boy before Tom, who is still coming to terms with the reality he may be a wizard, does not also need the burden of the truth behind parents. There is something that Riddle can do now that will ease the inferiority complex somewhat.
"Harry, I am about to cast a spell called lumos . It will create an orb of light at the end of my wand. Although wands are often tied to the individual that wields it, other magic users are at least able to do something with the others wand. Whether this be maintaining the light's density, enlarging it, or shrinking it, your magic will react with the wand. Now, please hold out your hand." The eleven year old seemed wary at first yet eventually allowed Tom to place the yew wand into his smaller hand. The wand was barely out of Tom's hand before the lumos spell had encased the entire room in a blinding light and he did not contain the smirk that graced his lips as he looked at the younger boy.
"Was that so hard?"
Riddle takes back his wand and stands up as the boy continues to examine his hand in wonder. Harry hadn't even been to Diagon Alley yet,which…
"Are you ready to leave with me, Harry?"
The Dursleys blessedly remained silent as Harry cast a somber gaze back towards them (Tom may have glared at them from over Potter's shoulder) before he turned back to the older boy. Many of the children at Wool's as well as Hogwarts whispered behind Tom's back that he was an old soul. His baby fat stayed with him for years unfortunately, making him an easy target for new children that were not aware of his power. Due to Harrison's proximity, Riddle often had to resort to his body language and facial features to frighten the children away. They would always see him from a distance and giggle at his weak stature, yet when they confronted him and saw the fury and darkness that lurked behind his cold, brown eyes, they always scurried away as survival instincts kicked in. He was a predator from his experiences, his need to stay resolute and strong for not just himself but Evans. That's what the children went with; he was an old soul who had seen too many things.
While the children were wrong about Tom, they would have been on the mark with Harry. When he turned back to Tom, his body slumped inward. He may only be eleven with no full experience with magic, may not understand the first thing about legillimency if Tom tried to explain, but years of abuse and surviving have instilled the capacity to read people like a book; Potter seemed to understand there was something behind his lack of knowledge of everything, that originates from the Dursleys. The need to take him away from the situation reared in Tom. As he imagined, Harry switched back to exhuming delight when Tom pulled the lemon drop portkey out of his pocket through magic.
"This may look like it's a piece of candy, but it isn't just that. This is what wizard call a portkey and it will take us to a certain location. For our purposes, it will be taking us to a certain place where we can purchase your school supplies. We will each hold either side at the same time and you'll feel a tugging in your stomach. Then we'll be dropped where we need to be. Simple?" Riddle explained and Harry nodded.
"On the count of three, grab your side. One, two, three…"
The Dursleys let out a final shriek when the pair vanished out of existence.