Chapter Text
October 31 was a day like any other at Wool's orphanage. Children did not hunt for candy and did not dress up as demons, witches or ghosts. They didn't even carve pumpkins, too precious to be wasted like that. The only thing that differed from the other days was the small slice of tart, provided to all the children equally. If among them there were those too young to protect their dessert, the instructors didn't care that much, until a fight started, they would never intervene.
Tom was now done being one of those children who were too weak. At the age of four, he had understood that what had been provided to you you had to hold tightly to you, fight tooth and nail to avoid having it torn off from under your nose. And if it happened? Then he would have promised himself that the imbecile would not get away with it. He was capable of things out of the ordinary. Of superpowers that no one had except him. He was special, unlike all those stupid kids around him. And he would always be the only one to be.
October 31, 1930, for Tom, was a day like many others. And it would have continued to be so if it weren't for the sound of the bell, the one that announced the arrival of a new baby. Mrs. Cole stood up with one of the instructors, with the air of someone who would rather drink her usual glass of wine than welcome another child within those walls. Whispers began to rise between the tables of the cafeteria, the children wondered who it could possibly be, if it was male or female, what tragedy had ever brought him here. Questions that were never answered, the other instructors invited the children to finish their dinner and return immediately to their rooms, if they did not have homework to do.
Tom followed the crowd of children to his shared room, there were at least a dozen beds in that single room and everyone began to get ready to go to sleep, sharing the bed with at least one other child due to lack of places or the cold. He felt lucky, not only did he have the bed in the corner closest to the door - where the heating pipes were - but he didn't share the bed with anyone, he wouldn't allow it. What little space there was on the mattress was his, his and that's it. Before going to sleep, she always made sure to check under the mattress if her most precious objects were still there: a brush that seemed to be made of jade - she was missing a few teeth, but it was still comfortable to use -, a book with pictures - Tom did not yet know how to read, but he had promised himself to learn it soon, before everyone else - and the one that was Snake skin - he made sure to wash and treat it with care every night, because it was the first gift he ever had.
But it seemed that that evening he would not be able to pull out the famous skin, Tom heard footsteps approaching the room. Without a door, he would surely have been noticed if he hadn't gotten under the covers as soon as possible. Mrs. Cole's voice was easy to distinguish, nasal and hoarse, the woman had not stopped smoking and drinking red wine for as long as she can remember. Every now and then he had heard her pray to someone - perhaps God - during one of her nights full of wine, Tom found it disgusting. Now that woman had just entered the room, out of the corner of her eye she could see a small bundle in her arms, accompanied by the instructor from before. He could hear the footsteps approaching his bed, and Tom knew at once what he was doing: he wanted to put the new baby with him.
He gritted his teeth as he felt something resting on his side and continued to pretend to sleep until he felt them were out of reach. Tom immediately sat up on the bed, observing what the bundle of blankets hid - surely he would have used them to cover himself better from the cold, afterwards -, he was a child, otherwise they would not have taken him to the boys' room, and he had a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt that started from his forehead and ran to his cheek. Tom found it strange. It didn't look like a normal scar, not because of the ramifications it took, just like a real lightning bolt, and the lock of white hair that started right where it began.
"Well, I'm going to share my bed with you just because you have extra blankets."
Tom whispered, starting to free the baby from the bundle he was imprisoned in and placing blankets over both of them. The child must have been younger than him, perhaps by a couple of years, and took up very little space. Tom appreciated this, at least he still had most of the bed to himself.
...
The child's name was Harry. Harry James Potter. He was two years old and his parents had died in an accident. Mrs. Cole took the trouble to introduce him to the cafeteria, though she seemed a little bored at having to do so. Tom saw her begin to drink her red wine as soon as he sat down. The new baby didn't look anything special, he was obviously shy and tried to look even smaller because of how close he was to him. The only thing that intrigued the others - and that intrigued him too - was the strange scar, which in the sunlight was even longer than Tom had imagined, reached the boy's throat and apparently gave him some trouble with his voice.
Harry ended up sitting with children his age and knew nothing more about him until it was time to go to sleep. The routine at the orphanage was different for everyone: younger children were given light tasks, suitable for their build, but as they grew up they ended up helping with more complicated manual jobs, such as tidying up the garden, cleaning the rooms and corridors or helping in the kitchen. Tom occasionally watched him from afar, after all they were forced to share the bed, he had to know something about him, but Harry was so anonymous that when they moved him to a single room - just after he turned seven - Tom forgot about him completely. Or almost.
Like the time he hung Billy Stubbs' rabbit on the rafters. The child had bothered him so much at that time, that he deserved to receive punishment, right? It was also not difficult to retrieve the rodent from its cage and open its stomach, leaving it hanged with its own guts. Tom was sure that no one had seen him, after all it was the middle of the night and they could hardly blame him. Yet she was surprised to find Harry right behind her. The child, still quite small for his age, was looking at the rabbit with indifference. Then he looked at Tom. He was already ready to block the child if he dared to warn anyone, although unable to speak he could still wake Mrs. Cole and direct him towards Tom. Yet Harry simply walked past him and went to the room they had previously shared.
From that moment Tom kept him under close observation, from which he could understand two things: that Harry did not seem in the least willing to spy and that he had no one to do it with. The child was isolated from those of his age, even in games. He diligently carried out his daily chores, finished before everyone else and returned to his room without leaving except for lunch or dinner. Every now and then he found himself forced to ask what he was doing during those hours, but the other children had no idea. Harry isolated himself and preferred to stay alone.
Tom forgot about him again. If he preferred to stay alone it was only a point in his favor, even if they had supostoted him, what evidence did they have? The only witness was even mute. He didn't even notice the fact that, at that time, he found more and more objects for his collection around, not even that someone kept him company when they punished him in a closet, or that every now and then he found himself with an extra blanket at night. Until he caught the child, just when he was leaving a doll - the one that reminded him of the doll of one of the older girls - near the door of his room.
"Hi, Harry."
The boy made an obvious start, which reminded Tom of cats when they were frightened, and he couldn't help smiling in amusement. The youngest child was in obvious embarrassment, observing everything but him. Tom pretended not to notice as he approached him, retrieving the doll he had left on the ground. He turned it over in his hands, like a valuable object, and smiled with satisfaction, now he also had something to blackmail one of the older girls with. She looked at Harry, the child had his gaze downcast but every now and then he raised it to observe him, almost as if he was waiting for something from him. To Tom it reminded me of a puppy.
"Great job, Harry."
The boy smiled at him. His eyes, of a particular green, lit up with happiness. He went away, running down the corridor. Tom followed him with his eyes until he disappeared from behind the wall. From that moment on he seemed to have a puppy following him, where Tom was there was also Harry - except when the two had tasks to do -, they sat at the same table and did the tasks together. Harry witnessed Tom's powers and looked at him as if he were a god, not as the devil's son. Harry always defended him from the accusations of the other children or Mrs. Cole, even when in reality it was Tom's fault. Harry became something closer to a friend Tom could ever have.
Their first fight came when Tom stranded Dennis Bishop and Amy Benson in a cave. Every summer they always went to that anonymous beach, full of rocks and where the sun had difficulty reaching them if it was not at least noon. That mid-summer day it seemed, however, that the weather would not improve very soon and the waves were too high for even the youngest children to enjoy, so most were on the beach. Tom took this opportunity to take Harry and two children his age with him, taking them to a cave he had discovered a couple of years earlier. Reaching it was easy, for him who had the powers, but he offered to help only Harry while the other two struggled to keep up with them.
Harry immediately did not seem convinced to enter the cave: the waves were too high and the path was slippery. But Tom convinced him to proceed, reassuring him that nothing would happen to him. When they arrived halfway through the cave, the group stopped, unable to continue due to the high tide. Dennis and Amy were obviously scared, holding hands as they watched around them. Harry was slightly calmer than the other two, he kept jolting with every strong wave, but he kept his gaze steady on Tom. Tom couldn't help but smile and start his little joke. Dennis and Amy were forced to jump into the water, thanks to Tom's powers, and every now and then they were raised to catch their breath. The more he heard them begging to stop, the more he enjoyed letting them go.
Harry that time did not seem to rejoice in Tom's powers, instead he found the child with his eyes firmly closed and his head turned to the opposite side. This confused him. The calm and silent Harry, who had always followed him like a lost puppy and who always defended him, now seemed completely disgusted by Tom's gestures. He brought his peers ashore, letting them rest for the moment, while he looked at Harry with confusion. And perhaps even with a hint of irritation.
"You've been doing the difficult thing since before, what's the matter?"
The youngest turned to him with a surprised look, looked first at the two children - who were coughing behind them - and then at the surrounding cave. Then he began to move his hands quickly, over the years spent together, the two had invented a code with which to communicate and Tom was the only one able to decipher it, so that he could tell what Harry wanted to the people around them. That time the movements of the hands were hurried, almost anxious, Tom could hardly understand what he was saying and had only caught the word 'death'.
"I'm not understanding. Slow down."
'They risk dying. This. It's. Torture.', Harry said, pointing first to the children and then to the surrounding cave.
"They won't die, I won't allow it. I'm powerful, remember? I can do whatever I want."
'And if your powers can't do it? How could we explain the disappearance of two children? We will end up being the prime suspects, they will send us to prison, they will separate us, we will not be able to see each other anymore and...'
Harry began to breathe faster, blocking his hands from what he was about to say. Tom looked at him with a morbid curiosity, this was the first time he had seen someone panic. Children usually cried and screamed when they wanted something. But Harry just lacked air, couldn't breathe, and looked like a caged animal. Tom also watched when he escaped from the cave and stood still waiting, because Harry always came back, because Harry would never abandon him, because...
Harry didn't come back.
...
On his 11th birthday, a strange man visited him, introducing himself as 'Professor Albus Dumbledore'. He admitted to teaching at a school where children like him, special children, learned magic. And Tom could not be more than happy. Finally someone who understood his abilities. Finally a club that would have appreciated him for what he was. But all his dreams were erased when his closet was burned down. His closet. With all its treasures. With all the treasures Harry had given him. The first time Tom saw magic it was not something as special as the appearance of a flock of birds, but something violent that erased all the progress he had made in those four walls.
Leaving the Wool orphanage was not difficult at all. Tom felt almost light when he was told that he would spend most of the year away. In Scotland. He was excited to see what this new world he was about to approach was like. The only person to greet him, at the entrance, was Mrs. Cole, who had paid for a taxi to reach King's Cross station. The woman was not at all happy to pay for him, but she seemed decidedly happy to see him go. No one else came to greet him, not even Harry.
His first year at Hogwarts was not difficult at all. If he thought he would find friends within those walls, he was very wrong. His peers, and even the older boys, looked at him as if he were scum, no matter how hard he tried to be the best of his year, no matter how much he tried to learn good manners at the table, no matter how much he kept to himself and didn't bother anyone. Tom, surprisingly, missed Harry. At Christmas he thought of sending him a letter, to wish him happy holidays. The letter was written first with nostalgia, then with anger and finally with sadness. He did not have the courage to send it, but he kept it in his trunk. He continued like this for the rest of the year: when he needed to talk to Harry, he wrote a letter about what worried him but then he never had the courage to send it. Summer came too fast for his taste. He was back at Wool.
The children who lived among the children were forbidden to use their wands, but Tom didn't have that kind of problem, he knew how to use magic even without the wand. After all, he was special. None of his peers could do it and they would soon see how special he was. Throughout the summer he began to design a plan on how to get all the Slytherins under the palm of his hand, it would have been a long-term plan, but it would certainly have been worth it. He finished all his homework for the holidays far too soon, now Tom didn't know how to pass the time except to do his usual chores for the orphanage and reread the first year books. It was the longest summer of his existence.
Finally the second year at Hogwarts began. Mrs. Cole called him a taxi again to get to the station, and she was again the only one who would say goodbye to him before he left. Tom certainly didn't expect someone else, it would have been stupid of him. He, Tom Riddle, would not have been lost in conjecture. Then he looked up at the windows, until he reached the fifth floor, where the boys' rooms were and met two green eyes, right where he hoped to find them. Harry waved his hand lightly, before walking away from the window. That year, for Tom, started better than last year.
Yet nothing had changed among his fellow housemates. Everyone saw him as a parasite that shouldn't have been there among them, and Tom saw them as just weak beings. However, he began to try to have more contact with some of his peers, with many doing some blackmail, with others he enjoyed hurting them. Eventually, the entire second year of Slytherin began to see him as the King of their year. This was his first step to climb the social class. For Christmas - or Yule - he had several important items bought, such as new quill pens, high-quality scrolls or a folder with protective runes inside. Just at that time she began to write letters for Harry again, but by then it had become more of a habit than out of necessity. He would never have sent them anyway, so he could write anything he thought about them. He continued to do so until the end of the year and was again forced to return to the Wool.
That summer seemed to be just like last time: with him completing all his homework, rereading textbooks, and doing his assigned chores. On July 31, however, something changed. Tom was certain it was Harry's birthday that day, Mrs. Cole took care to provide an extra treat at breakfast for those celebrating birthdays. But that day the woman took Harry aside and from the window she could recognize Professor Merrythought. A shiver ran down Tom's spine, a shiver of high expectations. He reached Harry's room just as Mrs. Cole left him with her DADA teacher.
"Good morning, Mr. Potter, I am Professor Merrythought, and I have come from Hogwarts to deliver this letter to you."
Harry prese la lettera tra le proprie hands and began to read its contents. Surely it was the same letter Tom had received two years earlier, telling him that he had been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, then the list of all the books he would have to buy along with school supplies and a wand. Oh, Tom couldn't contain his happiness. He watched as Harry's expression changed from quiet to surprised, then confused. The poor fellow had to make the old woman understand that he could not speak, and she seemed to be caught a little off guard, but straightened her back with a sweet smile on her face.
"It's nothing to worry about, my boy, there's nothing a potion can't fix. I am sure that our healer will know how to help you as soon as you come to us. So, do you accept?"
Tom could notice how Harry noticed him in passing, smiled at the woman and nodded his head. That year Harry would come with him to Hogwarts and Tom could not contain his happiness.
...
On August 10, the duo, in the company of Professor Merrythought, headed to Diagon Alley to buy what was needed for that school year. Harry was visibly agitated, he looked at everything around him with a critical eye and was frightened at the slightest loud sound, he always kept close to Tom - just like in the old days - and he could only be happy. The first things they bought were everything they needed for Harry, leaving the books for last, and the wand, essential for attending Hogwarts.
Ollivanders was happy to see the professor, but above all to look for a wand for Harry. Tom could only be even more proud when he discovered that the two shared a nucleus, while the boy seemed surprised by this knowledge. He turned to Tom, his wand in his hand, and pointed to both of them, a silent question to ask if this was the truth. Tom couldn't help but nod. Harry's gaze first lit up then, to Tom's confusion, became cold and distant. The rest of the trip was a bit embarrassing, even with the chats he had with their teacher, Harry's coldness could be felt even with his silence.
Tom promised himself to confront him when they returned to the orphanage, now he could no longer ignore him. Now they would attend the same school, as big as Hogwarts was, Tom was sure that at least at mealtimes they would be forced to meet. Or if Harry ever ended up in Slytherin just like Tom... In that case it would have been difficult to ignore each other. He had to solve that problem as soon as possible. The professor accompanied them to the gates and wished them a good day, not after having given Harry all the necessary rules of the statute of secrecy. When he disappeared, Tom grabbed the younger one by the wrist and began to drag him to his room. Harry looked like a dead weight behind him, he didn't object, but he didn't even give a hint of wanting to walk.
Tom locked the door with an Alohomora without a wand as he looked at the little boy with his arms crossed. Harry continued to maintain his detached expression. It reminded him of the times before they began to become... Friends. When he found out he hung Bill Stubbs' rabbit from the rafters and said nothing to Mrs. Cole. When they still shared the bed but apart from that they knew nothing about each other. But it was certainly not Tom's fault, it was Harry too weak of stomach, he knew what he was capable of and ran away as soon as he saw two children whimpering. Hypocrisy, that's what it was.
"We cannot continue like this. We can't pretend not to know each other, not now that the teachers know that we come from the same orphanage. Do you wish anyone had doubts about us?-", Tom clenched his jaw when Harry deliberately ignored him, he found himself forced to shake him by the shoulder. "-Answer me, damn!"
'You were going to kill someone.-', Tom found himself surprised when Harry actually answered him, he expected him to ignore him again. '-You were going to kill children and it seemed to be enjoying you.'
"You saw me killing animals, Harry. Rabbits. Cats. And now that I was going to kill people, are you complaining? Really?"
'Killing a person is different from killing animals. People have souls.'
Tom snorted in amusement, shaking his head. Really... Of all the bullshit he could say to him, the very one they heard in church. He shouldn't be surprised after all, Harry has always been indifferent to his petty gestures, until the thing fell on him too, then the boy felt guilty and ignored Tom for days. How could he not understand? Harry was always indifferent, but deep down he still had hope that someone could come and pick him up, someone to consider family. And what kind of model child would he be if he had been bad in the eyes of God?
"You're really stupid if you think that nonsense, in church, can be true. Look at me Harry! How many times have they called the parish priest to 'free the devil' from me? How?! Does it seem to you that it worked? That all those beautiful words solved something?"
'It's different.'
"How would it be different?! Do you know how many times they whipped me with the belt? You should know, you were there too. How many times have I been forced to stay under water in the tub, unable to breathe? How many times, Harry, how many?!"
Harry looked down, unable to look him in the eye. Tom tightened his grip on his shoulder, only to let go of it and start patting him on the shoulder. Harry continued to be short for his age, skinny, that the blows he received ended up making him stagger and force him to retreat. He looked at him with contempt, grabbing his wrist, but Tom began to do so with his other hand as well. Before long, they found themselves pushing each other. To give each other blows that left bruises. To provide scratches and bites. The two found themselves in a real fight for their first time.
"Answer me! For Salazar. What would be different?! Do you also think that I am the son of the devil, Harry? Do you think I'm bad? A monster to be locked in the closet?-", they ended up falling on the bed, with Tom caging him between him and the mattress. "-How would you be different, Harry? What changes between you and me? You... that you stood by and watched while I killed Bill Stubbs' rabbit. You, who stood by while I hurt the other children. You, who created the plans with me!", Tom tried to catch his breath as he looked at the boy below him, Harry's eyes lit up by something he didn't know.
"You and I are the same. We always have been. You're just as bad as I am, Harry. You can't run away from the truth, not anymore."