Disclaimer: If you recognise it I don't own it. Only disclaimer in the entire story, don't expect any more because I am not likely to miraculously own Tom next chapter.

A/N Yes I am officially obsessed with author's notes. It is very scary. This is my first Harry Potter fan fic so don't flame it too badly. Hopefully you won't need to. This will hopefully become an ongoing story if I remember to update it and will run right up until he becomes the dark lord... hopefully. Enjoy! Oh and review.

Chapter 1: Of wizards and relations

He ran as fast as it was humanly possible to run; the holes in his socks occasionally snagging on the rough wooden floor of the orphanage. Through the half-opened curtains of the corridors the morning sunlight danced on the surface with him and off in the distance the laughter of washing children reached him. But the much more immediate sound was behind him, the panting of their breathing and the yelled threats and insults, Tom heard all these familiar sounds and tried to run faster but with little success. Every day it was the same, the same frantic chase, the same desperate hope he cherished that he might out run them this time, the same dreadful sense of disappointment as they pounced and held him to the wall while Eric's punches wracked his small body. Skidding slightly he entered the now empty dormitory and flung himself under one of the beds. For what seemed like eternity he waited, cowering under the wooden supports, then they were in the room with him. Large blue eyes looked fearfully out from under the crack between floor and the edge of the flowery duvet. Underneath the violent pink petals the boy could see three pairs of feet moving slowly in and out of his plane of vision.

"Come on Tommykins, we know you're here."

That would be Sam, as small and weak as Tom he made his way through life by verbally tormenting Eric's victims. Today would be no exception. I'm not here.

"Where are you Riddle?" I'm not here. "We won't hurt you, just come out." I'm not here. I'm not. "Sister Joanne says you have to come down for lunch," Eric's voice came again. "You don't want me to tell her you're being disobedient again, do you?"

I'm not here.

"Oh Eric, don't do that. Don't you remember what happened last time Tommy was disobedient?" Another of Eric's friends: tall dark Richard. He knew them all. Knew their name, their voices; he knew the smell as they entered the room, the sense that prickled at the back of his neck when one of them was watching him, waiting for him to leave the protection of the sisters for just one moment. That would be their moment no matter how fast he might run.

"Awful wasn't it?"

"Without food for two days, I think." Just leave me alone, I'm not here. "Be worse this time I reckon."

He must've moved without noticing it because Eric called suddenly "he's under one of the beds. Ric, you start at that end. Sam this. Come out Riddle! It'll be worse for you if they find you first."

I'm… not… here… "He's not under this one." I'm…not… here. I'm not here. I'm not here. From his hiding place Tom could hear the covers being pulled up from each bed in turn. It would not be long before they reached the one he was hiding beneath and then it would be over once more. I'm not here. I'm not here. I'm nothere.I'mnothere.I'mnothereI'mnothereI'mnothere.I'mnot…

With a wave of blinding light the bedspread was swept away and he closed his eyes and waited for them to pull him out, two hours later he would be lying in almost exactly the same place beaten and bloody. At breakfast tomorrow he'd be asked what had happened, "I walked into a door," or perhaps "I fell down the stairs." It would never do to tell on them, whatever task the sisters might dish out for punishment it would be nothing compared to what he would suffer at their hands. But it never came. He opened his eyes slightly and saw Sam's rat like features staring straight through him. "He's not here." Tom blinked in surprise. Sam could not have missed him. As stupid as he was he was definitely not blind but there was no doubt that he had looked under the bed and instead of seeing a trembling eleven-year-old boy had seen nothing. "I thought you said he was under the bed!" Richard demanded.

"I thought he was… little squirt must've got away."

An hour after they had left, muttering and hitting each other instead of him, he finally crawled out from the protection offered by the pastel sheets and raced down towards the dining rooms. Breakfast had started half an hour ago and the long tables were full of children shovelling down porridge that looked and smelt more like wallpaper paste than something edible. One or two faces turned to watch him as he made his way between the rows but most ignored him focusing on more important matters. Before anyone could take notice of his unexpected entrance he slid into one of the gaps and tried to eat.

"Happy birthday Riddle," the girl next to him hissed.

He started to thank her but the quiet of the meal was soon interupted. "Riddle!"

"Look's like it'll be no different from last year," he mumbled and made his way up to the head of the hall where the sisters sat. "Sister Joanne, I heard you wanted to see me."

"I am as always amazed at your punctuality."

"I was detained, sister. I apologise."

Sister Joanne sighed, Tom Riddle was so often detained for their scheduled meetings although usually when he did turn up he was accompanied by a black eye and a split lip which seemed to be mercifully absent for today's. She had long harboured suspicions about who was responsible for his beatings but the lad refused to talk and Eric Chambers remained unpunished. "I need to have a word with you. Have you finished your breakfast?"

Tom thought back to the now stone cold bowl that awaited him back his place. "I'm finished."

"Then lets go to my office."

* * *

Delicately he seated himself in the large armchair opposite the sister's desk. It swamped his tiny figure and Tom sank back into it gratefully. He'd been into the office before of course but always before with eyes swollen mostly shut and he looked around curiously at this new scene. It was practically empty save for the desk, the two chairs and the bookshelves that lined the walls. He let his eyes wander hungrily over their golden embossed titles, his fingers itching to pick up each one and stroke their leather covers and read the corn coloured pages where so much knowledge he didn't possess dwelt.

"This arrived for you this morning."

He reached across the empty desk for the heavy parchment envelope. The clover green ink of his address still gleaming as if it were still wet.

Mr. T Riddle

The Orphanage of the Holy Sisters

Kingston upon Thames

He turned it over to find a wax seal containing an elaborate crest containing a lion, a serpent, an eagle and a badger. "Before you open it I also have this to give you." Sister Joanne pushed another letter towards him. This one too was written on thick parchment and was addressed simply with the words "To my son Tom."

"I'll leave you alone to read them."

To my dear Tom,

Happy Birthday! Eleven today, I wish I could be there to see the fine young man you've grown in but it seems the gods have different plans for me. You must have received your Hogwarts letter today and while what it may tell you is strange please believe it because today marks the beginning of a completely different life for you. I wish I could see through the ten years that lie between us to where you are today but I cannot; I can only hope that you are happy with whatever life has chosen for you. Know always that you carry my love with you wherever you go and whatever you may do.

And lastly whatever you may hear to the contrary I believe your father loves you too. If you get the opportunity please seek him out, it's all I have ever wanted for both of you. I love you so much,

Mother.

He did not cry, he had no tears left. He merely placed it back on the table and picked up the second letter. It was heavier than the first, obviously made up of several sheets. Gingerly he broke open the wax that sealed the envelope and pulled out the sheets it contained.

Dear Mr. Riddle,

It is my pleasure to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Tom?" The door opened again and Sister Joanne poked her head back into the room. "There's someone out here who claims he needs to see you. Can I let him in or do you need more time with your letters?"

"No, its alright," he answered having decided to ignore the mysterious second letter and its strange content. "Who is it? What do they want?"

The door was pushed open further and a middle-aged man with vibrant auburn hair garbed in curious bottle green robes entered the room shutting the door behind him.

"Tom Riddle?"

"Yes."

"In answer to your questions I can tell you that my name is Albus Dumbledore and I have come to speak to you about that letter you hold in your hand."