I. AM. BACK.

FINALLY.

Oh my gosh, I'm sorry for not updating BOHD! But as you can see, there are so many flaws, and I have to go to training every MWF, and, and- *cuts off* Sigh.

So, *claps hands* a rewrite is born! Well, not really a rewrite. It could totally be a different story. But you know what I mean. Dani and Tom do not have the same set of skills anymore. That gets old real fast. It's... not believable.

Truth be told, I've lost motivation. But here I am! Eh. Reviews are welcome, and if you'd like to get a new friend, I am always here! (Pls guys, I'm so bored.)

WARNINGS: fem!Harry/Tom, a different Harry from canon, fem!Harry's bad mouth, manipulative!Dumbledore (but not necessarily evil), Ron being Ron (the noob) and of course, Tom Riddle being born in the 80's! (Meaning Grindelwald is the Dark Lord, explanations later)

So... on to the story!

Sometimes, Dani thought, scowling. I fear as if the world is really out to get me.

Dani glared at the brass number four on the door of the Dursleys'. Every single time she tried to escape from those asshole Dursleys, she manages to find her way back here. She could be running in the same direction, but she'll never reach the end of Surrey. She knew the world wasn't this ridiculously small. In fact, when she was younger, she managed to walk to school, buy the groceries and all that! However, when she begins to truly leave the Dursleys, she'll manage to wind up back in this hellhole.

Dani slowly breathed in, and breathed out. Composure is key, she reminded herself, straightening her back. Composure is key. She stiffly walked towards the door, opening it and softly shutting it.

A click was heard as the door was shut.

Far away, Tom Marvolo Riddle gazed outside, sketchbook in hand. There was a fire in his eyes as they pierced through the glass. He began to meticulously sketch the night sky, his gestures fierce yet precise. He had gotten a visit from Albus Dumbledore, the knowing headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a week ago. While the headmaster was an interfering and suspiciously warm person that Tom found himself disliking, a genuine smile played on his lips every time his train of thought lead him to that wonderful memory as he sat alone at his table. Needless to say, every orphan ran away from him screaming.

It had been a tiring day for him, and he just wished to unwind and finally relax. After all, today was his birthday.

The ten minute sketch wasn't much, but it was his drawing. He found it special, even if no one else will.

Danyte Jay Potter glared at the single light bulb dangling from her cupboard ceiling, if you can still call it that anyways. To calm down, she grabs her notebook and begins to write. She writes to find release and solace in her own words, to go beyond reality. Dani still remembers the tale she herself wrote of the young boy who traded his heart for wings. Dani pauses. She remembers the tale very well. Too well.

Chapter One: When the Light Fades

Dani never liked the feeling of hope. And while she understands that hope is a… positive feeling, which blooms in your chest and spreads out to every part of your body, she disliked it. She hates leaving things to chance, because she practically has the worst luck in the entire world. And so, every time something comes up, she refuses to even entertain the idea of making the most out of it.

But there were always the first times. There was the first time she made that hateful mistake of actually bothering to hope.

She actually thought of getting in the school's dance club, which she heard was extremely hard to get in, especially if you were only grade five. Of course, without the signature from her guardian, she isn't allowed to audition. So when Aunt Petunia shot her down and ripped the form to pieces, the hope that once flourished inside her died, replaced by utter depression, sadness, and the urge to break down and cry. She never did show up on the schooldays wherein the dance club were supposed to perform on.

Fast forward to a fortnight later. She did not hope for the bus to be able to catch her. When it did, she felt relief flood into her. But she was confused. How did the relief manage to overload her senses, and yet, she did not hope? She spent the entire time in the bus ride thinking. And then the answer came to her like a wrecking ball.

Because I still wished for the bus to pick me up! I am not strong enough to keep it all within me. However, the feeling was greatly reduced. If I had hoped and hoped and hoped, and the bus came, I would most likely be yipping in joy. But because I did not wish for it as hard, only a limited portion of the elation I should've felt is what I actually felt. Makes sense.

Since then, Dani acknowledged the fact that hoping was a deceitful bastard that can never be escaped.

"Dudley, get the mail." Vernon ordered, casually flipping a page. Dudley looked up and scowled.

"Make the Freak get it." He sneered, grabbing a piece of toast and taking a huge chunk out of it. Vernon did not glance up.

"Girl, get the mail." Dani frowned.

"Uncle Vernon, shove it." Vernon's head snapped up and he glared at Dani as she escaped from the room.

"FREAK!" Dani chuckled, knowing she'll probably get a beating later for her cheekiness. She honestly didn't care. Picking up the mail, she began sifting through them. Wouldn't do now if the Dursleys have some interesting threatens in the form of mail, would it? Honestly, she was just trying to help them out a little.

Bills, bills, bills. A lot of bills. Dani didn't dare unseal them, alright, but she did open the postcard from Dudley's Aunt Marge. Not hers, by the way. That obese spawn of Satan could rot for all she cared. Her eyebrows raised at the slightly disturbing letter which expressed affection, and Dani disgustedly closed it and never bothered it again. There was also a letter from David Bruth, Dudley's pen pal. Urgh.

Dani froze as her hands felt something rougher than ordinary paper. Pulling out a thick, creamy envelope with a purple wax seal, she stared at it. Definitely looked like something from an old-fashioned library. Or maybe time-travellers who wished to recruit her in the British Navy. Dani snickered. She was a bit tired, after all. She didn't stop to think if it was actually for her. Flipping it, her eyebrows shot upwards.

Ms. Danyte Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

Number 4 Privet Drive

Surrey

… Stalkers… was Dani's first thought. Scoffing at the ludicrousness of the letter, Dani stuffed it in her pocket and checked the last few bills.

"GIRL! MAIL!"

Took them long enough.

However, Dani couldn't help but feel that damnable hope worm its way into her system once again. She would open it at the end of the day.

It was hot.

Shit, it was hot.

Dani was wearing over-sized baggy clothes, and while she liked her clothes a little loose, she did not like them huge-ass and nearly dwarfing her entire body as she worked under the bloody sun. She was hot, tired, sweaty, and she also felt like total crap. She had been weeding the garden for two hours now, but she was just halfway through. Why the hell was she performing so poorly?! She was fine bloody yesterday! An irritated sigh escaped Dani's lips as she tried her best not to just lash out at that moment. She needed water, fast. Cold. Cold water.

Cursing the Dursleys, she played with the idea of just killing them. Grab a knife or something sharp, plunge it deep to their hearts. It wasn't bad, although she'd be the first suspect. She couldn't even escape Surrey, so it was wiser to keep her morbid thoughts as it is: thoughts, not plans. And even though Dani already considered it about a few sextillion times, she was pretty sure it wouldn't be very beneficial in the future. However, Dani did like to live in the present, followed closely by the past.

She shook her head. Visualizing your relatives' hopefully violent demise is unhealthy for one's mental stability. She thought, snickering. She idly wondered if she snickered too much, before banishing the whole train of thought quickly. She needed to work fast so she'd be able to visit the library before sundown, and imagining scenarios which will probably never happen is kinda like the perfect distraction.

Dani smiled victoriously as she realized the garden was now in its amazing perfect state. Although Aunt Petunia claimed she had took care of the magnificent award-winning garden herself, it was always Dani who took the responsibility of it.

"'I planted and took care of the garden myself!' my arse. More like 'threw my niece out to take care of it'. When is she ever going to get a life?" Dani muttered, rolling her eyes. Gossiping and spreading lies is not a very good way to live.

Dani sighed, doing a few hamstring stretches before deciding to hit the showers. Thank God she saved her allowance of one meagre shower per day 'till she finished her work. This way, she would smell clean when she arrived at the library. Maybe she can even write out a few things. Yes, that would be really nice, Dani smiled. Shoving her hands into her big-ass pants' pockets which were equally as big-ass, she entered the door and softly shut it.

Ten minutes later, Dani exited the showers and threw some clothes on. Not really caring about how she looked, she left Number Four in favor of going to the library.

She walked in silence, the sun glaring at her. She started to sweat, but she ignored it. This was something she really hated; she sweated a lot and easily. Dani chalked it off as genetics, cursing whichever bloodline passed down this burden to her.

It wasn't a very long walk to the library. It was considerably peaceful with the birds chirping and the trees swaying slightly. There was a very small breeze which helped Dani with the sweat thing, and of course, when she arrived, her face was red. But other than that, it was an okay trip. Dudley and his idiot friends didn't show up, thankfully. Dani scowled at the mere thought of them.

Entering the library, she waved at the librarian, Ms. Anne. Ms. Anne kinda looked like her, and when Dani was younger, she liked to pretend that Ms. Anne was her mother, caring for her. She had messy black hair, but it was only up to her shoulders. She had blue eyes, but she also had prominent cheekbones. She stood straight-backed and tall at 5'9, and wore rectangular glasses. She was only nineteen years old, so it was seriously obvious that she wasn't her mother. Unless of course, Ms. Anne indulged in such... activities when she was eight years old. Ms. Anne smiled at her and waved.

"Hello, Danyte." she greeted, chuckling at Dani's red face. "Damn, puberty hit you early."

Dani scowled. "Hey! It didn't hit me early, it's probably some genetical... misfortune." she finished lamely. Ms. Anne's eyebrows rose.

"Genetical misfortune? That's a new one." she remarked offhandedly. "By the way, Piers Polkis entered the library alone. He didn't even look at any of the books, but he did look like he was trying to look for you."

"Ms. Anne-"

"Hey! What did I tell you about adding a 'Ms.' to the Anne? Anne's my first name, idiot!" Ms. Anne stuck her tongue out. Dani and M- Anne already did have this conversation yesterday, but Dani still couldn't get rid of the "Ms." without trying. "Besides, we're too close for formalities."

"Erm, Anne," Dani tested. Anne looked at her approvingly. "How are you so sure he was looking for me?"

"He muttered, 'Where could she be, she's always here around four?' so it's kinda obvious." Ms. Anne rolled her eyes. She scratched her eyebrow, revealing blood red nails. Dani winced. Ms. Anne noticed and smirked. "Pubes really haven't hit you yet. Just you wait, Dani, you'll be painting your nails soon. I predict your nails will be black by fifteen... or sky blue." Dani shuddered dramatically.

"I'd rather keep them the normal color," she huffed. Anne laughed.

"Yep. Definitely black or sky blue. Maybe even sea green. You're too... Dani to paint them any other." Dani's eye twitched and Anne smirked. "Aren't you touchy today," she remarked casually.

"Well, it's not really my fault, is it?" she proclaimed, gratful for the fact that the library was empty save two young boys giggling over a comic book. (What the fuuuu...? Dani thought disbelievingly. I didn't know boys had it in them to stomp down their pride and giggle.) "Aunt Petunia gave me a longer list of chores than yesterday's. And yes, I mopped the floor two days ago!" she cleared up as soon as she saw Anne open her mouth. Anne shut her mouth and smirked.

"Okie, okie, you win, brat." Anne passed her a book. Glancing at the title, Dani's eyes widened.

"Oh my God..." whispered Dani disbelievingly. Her hands shakily fingered the book. "How did you-"

"Like Shelly Arthridge?" Anne grinned. "The book is yours." The Rickety Secret was written on the cover of the page. It was just published this year! Dani felt giddy. She had heard about a new book of Shelly Arthridge, and now, now-

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Dani tackled the older woman into a hug.

"Oof!" the nineteen year old grunted, but hugged Dani back. Dani wasn't very familiar with hugs, but it felt nice.

Dani realized she just had her first hug.

Tom Marvolo Riddle did not like sharing.

He had lived alone for most of his life. When the matron had given him another roommate, he had despised him. His name was Dennis Bishop. He was a despicable little thing. Annoying and chatty, infuriating and dumb, he wasn't really the best person to talk to. Of course, Tom threatened the poor boy, who immediately asked for a different room. Of course, he was accepted by Maria and Amy Benson, because the Bensons apparently each had a crush on Bishop.

He never gave others permission to borrow his books. When Eric Whalley, an actually competent individual asked to borrow his Mathematics textbook, Tom had immediately shot him down. Who knows what condition the book would be in by the time Whalley returned it? He also had felt something stir in him. He just did not want to.

He didn't let Martha, one of the caretakers and the resident cook, borrow the storybook he read six years ago. Apparently, she wanted to read aloud to the other orphans. Even though it would probably reap many benefits like more time alone and a debt from Martha, in the end, he chose not to and kindly told her, "No." Of course, Mrs. Cole heard about it and he got in neck-deep trouble, getting a sermon. But it was worth it of course.

Bottom line: it just isn't in Tom's nature to share. He was very possessive of his things, and took great care of them.

A week before Hogwarts, he decided to return to Diagon Alley, even if he already had his schoolbooks, cauldron, wand and school materials. Lugging A Choir of Devils by Shelly Arthridge with him, he asked the bartender (who was named Tom. Tom had to restrain himself from reaching out to strangle him. If there was one thing Tom didn't like about his name, it would have to be the fact that the name Tom was common. He had to share his name with a bunch of other people. Tom despised that.) to open up the passageway towards Diagon Alley, and he once more felt the elation when he had first seen the magical world flare inside him.

He was once more where he belonged.

He deeply breathed in the fresh and crisp air. Yep. Definitely more nature-friendly than the non-magicals. It was clean and unpolluted, so unlike the air of the non-magical factories and that damnable orphanage. Just the mere thought of it made him want to snarl. Casually walking with his head down, he tried to blend in. Being noticed was the last thing he needed. He shoved his hands in his pockets, dark blue eyes painfully looking up and curiously glancing at different people. Most wizards and witches had a bizzare sense of fashion, Tom observed. The robes in the muggle world will surely be frowned upon and would turn heads. They sort of look like dresses, Tom sniggered.

Entering Flourish and Blotts, he decided to look around a bit. Maybe there were books he would take an interest in. He would have to do more odd jobs around the neighborhood, but he'll do it for the knowledge. He casually entered the shop and made his way towards the bookshelves after a nod towards the woman behind the counter.

Surrounded by tall bookshelves with the sign Non-Fiction, the eleven year old started to sniff out some good books. Maybe the Wizarding World had storybooks too? Tom shook his head. He had to be great. He had already wasted away reading Shelly Arthridge, Billius Sheaksrepair and Dannny Iron, and even some of the more classic fairy tales like Peter Pan. He needed to learn. Besides, he knew the Wizarding World's literature wasn't as half as good as Non-magical literature. Highly unlikely he'll find a better storybook then the book in his hands right now.

He paused, looking at the Fiction section at the back of the Non-Fiction. It wouldn't hurt to maybe look again...

Making up his mind, he strolled to the other end and made a swift turn.

BUMP!

"OOF!"

"AH!"

Tom landed on the floor bum-first. What the bloody hell just happened?! Groaning when a dull ache spread across his chest, he opened his eyes to see confused and disoriented emeralds looking at Tom.

Tom got pissed when he saw a crease in the cover of If Tomorrow Comes. Looking back at the girl who so carelessly bumped into him, the words died in his mouth as those piercing emeralds focused on him.

Guys, is it rushed? I'm really sorry if it isn't good! Please review, it'll really make my day even if it is a flame!

How are you guys today? If there's anything I could do to make it better for you, just let me know! Smile! :)

Guys, the authors are made up!

Also, here are some quick notes that no one will probably care about!

(A/N: why doesn't FFN register "sextillion" as a real word?)

(A/N: Again, why is "genetical" not counted as a word? Is it really a word? I checked Google!)

(Dah-VID)