Work Text:
Tom Riddle opened his eyes to another monotonous day at Wool's Orphanage. The gray walls suffocating any semblance of cheer. The other children kept their distance, as they always did, whispering behind his back. He preferred it that way. Solitude had become his ally. But today was different. Today, a new boy had arrived.
Tom first saw him through the doorway of the common room, a scrawny boy with wild black hair and piercing green eyes. The matrons ushered the boy in, asking questions to which he responded in a quiet, almost scared, manner. His name was Harry, he was seven, and he lived with his aunt and uncle. Or he had, until now. Tom’s interest was piqued. There was something different about this boy, something that set him apart from the other frightened, ordinary children.
The next morning, Tom remained in his usual corner, observing as Harry was introduced to the other children. Most of them flocked to Harry, peppering him with questions, but he seemed distant, as if his mind were elsewhere. Tom’s gray eyes never left him. He could sense the boy’s discomfort, his unease. He understood that feeling all too well.
“Who’s that?” he heard Harry ask Billy, one of the older boys.
“Him? That’s Tom Riddle. Best to stay away from him" Billy replied.
Tom smirked. He had earned his reputation well. Strange things happened around him, things he couldn’t explain but felt a certain thrill in controlling. He watched Harry’s reaction carefully. There was no fear, only curiosity. Perhaps this Harry was different after all.
Days passed, and Harry adapted to life at Wool’s with a resilience that intrigued Tom. He watched as Harry navigated the strict routines with a quiet determination, and noted the absence of fear in his eyes. One afternoon, Tom saw Harry standing by the bushes, talking to a small snake. He approached silently, intrigued.
“Can you understand them?” Tom asked, his voice low and measured, masking his excitement.
Harry turned, surprise flashing in his green eyes, but he only nodded.
Tom studied him for a moment, feeling a strange connection. “Who are you?” he asked, crouching down to Harry’s level.
“I’m Harry.”
“Harry, huh?” Tom mused, a small smile playing on his lips. “You might be interesting.”
From that day on, they were inseparable. The other children avoided them, giving them a wide berth. When the matrons began calling them “Wool’s Demons" Tom felt a strange sense of pride. It was fitting, after all. He and Harry shared a bond that went beyond mere friendship; it was as if they were two halves of the same whole, both outcasts in their own way, yet powerful together.
Harry didn’t have a last name, and when an old man with a long white beard came to Wool’s, speaking of a special school for boys like them, Tom insisted that Harry be given the surname Riddle. He watched the old man’s eyes twinkle with a mysterious light, but Tom met his gaze with unwavering confidence. There was something about this man, something ancient and wise, but Tom felt no fear, only anticipation.
They didn’t know what the future held, but Tom felt a deep, inexplicable connection to Harry. They would be feared, yes, but they would also be powerful. Tom could see it in Harry’s eyes – the same hunger, the same need for something more than this gray, lifeless place.
In the dead of night, Tom often found himself contemplating their future. He had always known he was different, destined for greatness. The discovery that Harry shared his gift, that he too could speak to snakes, only solidified his belief that they were meant for something extraordinary. The other children might see them as demons, but Tom saw them as kindred spirits, bound by a shared destiny.
He looked over at Harry, who was quietly reading a book in the corner. A faint smile touched Tom’s lips. The future was theirs for the taking, and nothing – not even fate itself – could stand in their way.
Meanwhile, at number 4 Privet Drive, the disappearance of Harry Potter went unnoticed. The Dursleys, in their ignorance and disdain, were glad to be rid of him. Magical Britain, however, had lost its savior forever. But Tom Riddle had found an ally in his quest for power, and together, they would shape the world to their will.