So, this is an edited version of When the Past comes back to Haunt You. I decided to change it and put it into a one shot instead of a full story. I prefer this version although it's darker than anything I've ever written before.

Disclaimer – I don't own Harry Potter, I don't make money from this. I do own Alicia and her parents.

He had met her under strange circumstances.

Tom Riddle walked along the corridors, using his Prefect status well as he searched every nook and cranny for students out of bed after curfew. His chocolate brown locks were styled carefully so that they did not fall in his eyes unnecessarily yet they were not slicked back like Abraxas Malfoy's. His blue eyes scanned every single brick and hole for students and his lean, six foot frame moved gracefully through the corridors. When he rounded a corner, he was shocked to find a third year in the middle of the corridor. They were normally better hidden, not that that stopped Tom as he knew almost every secret of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The young girl with dark, golden brown hair was playing with something on a thin golden chain. It looked like an hourglass.

"What are you doing out of bed?" he asked in an authoritative voice. The girl jumped violently and instantly rose to her feet facing Tom.

"I-I-I w-w-was just, um . . ." she stuttered and Tom sneered at her. How he loathed the pathetic little creatures like the one in front of him.

"What is that?" he demanded, eyeing the golden necklace distastefully. The girl gulped hugely.

"I d-d-don't k-know. My father left it lying around and I was curious," she answered and Tom was relieved that she had calmed down.

"Give it over, you should not have it." Tom reached for it and the girl ran away. The small golden hourglass tumbled through his long, pale fingers and landed on the floor in front of him. With a smash disproportionate to its size, a flash of light engulfed him. When he got the nerve, he re-opened his clenched shut eyes and found himself still in the Charms corridor although it looked slightly different. And standing in front of him was a very startled sixteen year old girl wearing Gryffindor robes and a Prefect badge.

She hadn't reacted well when she found out his whole name.

Alicia Baker grumpily led the mysterious 'Tom' up the spiral staircase to Headmaster Dumbledore's office. Her naturally straight, shoulder length chestnut locks swayed as she stomped up the steps. She knew that the demanding stranger wasn't particularly intimidated by her five feet two inches height or her glaring hazel eyes, but she was fuming and ready to lash out. When she had knocked on the wooden door in her own signature way, Dumbledore had given her permission to enter.

"Good evening Miss Baker and . . . well, what do we have here?" the wise old professor asked, his brilliant blue eyes sparkling darkly as he eyed 'Tom'.

"I trust you remember me, Professor Dumbledore," the stranger assumed in an arrogant tone. Alicia curled her lip distastefully at him before turning her gaze back to the Headmaster.

"Yes, I remember every student to walk the halls of Hogwarts," Dumbledore replied calmly and gestured for them to sit, which they did so.

"Professor, Tom here claimed to be walking along the Charms corridor when he encountered a third year who ran away and a golden necklace smashed – a golden, hourglass shaped necklace," she explained, putting special emphasis on the word hourglass. Dumbledore smiled at her slightly.

"Well, this is quite the mess, isn't it, Mr Riddle?" he asked as he gazed at the stranger. Unfortunately, Alicia realised that he wasn't much of a stranger after all as white hot rage surged through her and she shot out of her plush armchair, almost knocking it over.

"Oh, so THAT'S why you didn't tell me your last name! Merlin, you truly are a slimy snake!" she shrieked, pointing at him accusingly. Riddle looked relatively unconcerned.

"Miss Baker, please sit down," Dumbledore requested but her sensitive temper had kicked in fully.

"NO! You know what he did to my parents, to ME. He gave me this!" And she gestured to the grotesque scar that magic couldn't get rid of and make-up wouldn't cover. It ran in a thick, single line from the left corner of her forehead, across her face diagonally, narrowly missed her right eye and ended right at the edge of her collarbone. The pink and purple scar was the subject of many nightmares and panic attacks. Riddle's eyes went slightly wide but she stormed out before he could say anything.

He had scarred her more than once.

"You won't talk to me," Tom stated as he came up behind the unmistakable figure of Alicia Baker. She was so small yet she had a slightly intimidating presence that he admired. And she determinedly kept walking. He felt a sense of relief from this, not wanting to see her face. Dumbledore had informed him that Tom's future self had killed Alicia's parents then tortured Alicia herself, leaving her with a scar created by Dark Magic so powerful and evil that it would last forever and grew with her. Having already killed the worthless Myrtle in cold blood, he wasn't particularly bothered by the deaths of Alicia's two parents (muggles, he'd heard). But Alicia was another story. He had not, at that point in his life, tortured someone so harshly that their entire life was affected by the trust issues and paranoia instilled through the curse. He had heard two girls discussing the somewhat hideous scar he'd apparently given her. They had been laughing at her misfortune when a thirteen year old boy with messy black hair, round glasses and an interesting lightning bolt shaped scar had told them off. He had explained Alicia's story proudly, like he was pleased that she had survived. Tom supposed it was plausible, as he knew his temper couldn't get away with him. It could be considered a miracle that Alicia was still around.

"Are you going to leave me alone?" Alicia finally demanded as they reached the Gryffindor Tower entrance. "Or are you here to finish the job?" she snarled. Tom raised an eyebrow sardonically.

"I am not the person who did those things," he replied calmly and she snorted sarcastically.

"No, you're just the person who will do those things. I hope you enjoy it . . . because one day, I am going to watch and rejoice as you die, Tom Riddle. You should know that." And she whispered something to the Fat Lady's unattractive portrait and disappeared inside.

She had slowly grown attracted to him and his charm.

Six months after she had found him in the Charms corridor during that late September day, Riddle was still following her around. Despite warnings from Harry Potter and threats from a chunk of Gryffindor House, the future Lord Voldemort continued to stalk her mercilessly. He used suave charm and the utmost politeness and never seemed to be caught in the wrongdoing. Then again, she knew the same had happened back in his own time (the Chamber of Secrets sticking out in her mind). She had begun speaking to him more around four months after his appearance, learning that he was very different to his future self. But she never forgot. Oh, she never forgot. He would kill her parents. No matter what she said or did (aside from killing him, which she'd been expressly forbidden from doing as it was a risk to the time line), he would kill Harry's parents, her parents and scar her both mentally and physically for life.

"Hello Alicia." She would know that annoyingly smooth voice anywhere. Looking up, she wasn't disappointed to see the pale blue eyes of Tom Riddle.

"Riddle," she greeted simply then returned to her book – The Lord of the Rings. His hand reached over and grazed hers before gently pulling the book from her grasp. He glanced at the cover and smirked slightly.

"Intelligent reading." She took that as a compliment.

"What do you want, Riddle?" she asked in irritation. That was her parents' copy of that book and seeing the thin fingers that were so similar to the ones that held the wand that killed them had her teetering on edge. He smirked which had her seething further.

"I want to have a real conversation with you and without insults or irked emotions." His honest answer shocked her so much that she agreed. She discovered that he had no friends, only followers, a short temper and his favourite colour (predictably) was emerald green. She told him that her best friend was Harry Potter as they understood each other's situations (although she avoided explaining just what Harry's situation was). She let him know that she got on quite well with Ron and Hermione but preferred Harry and her other group of friends and that her favourite colour was neon orange. They stayed away from the family topic, much to Alicia's relief, discussing everything that didn't directly link to anything difficult from her past. They slowly moved closer and closer together in their deep conversation, until Tom reached out and tenderly stroked her cheek, causing her to half mid-sentence. He leaned in, closing the small distance between them and placed a kiss so sweet on her lips that she truly believed he was pure and good. When she began moving her lips against his, he swiped his tongue against her bottom lip and their tongues tentatively moved against each other. His hand that had been on her cheek slid around the back of her neck, holding her in position, not that she minded. Her own hands hesitantly reached out to rest on his shoulders as his other hand came to her right shoulder. At some point over the next ten seconds, Alicia came to her senses and attempted to break away. But Tom wouldn't have it. The hand holding her neck tightened and the one on her right shoulder moved to the front of her neck, pressing hard. She gulped for air as he pulled his mouth away, blue eyes glinting red as his fingers dug into her windpipe and cut off her supply of oxygen.

"W-w-what a-are you d-doing?" she managed to gasp and he grinned maliciously.

"Finishing the job," he answered darkly, drawing his wand.

He went back to his time and eventually found her again.

Lord Voldemort crossed the threshold of the Baker household, black robes and hooded cloak flowing softly like water and his formidable wand clutched in his skeletal hand.

"Who are you?" the filthy muggle father demanded. Voldemort laughed harshly.

"Avada Kedavra!" he yelled, pointing his wand. With a flash of green light, he disgusting human fell to the floor in a dead heap. A shrill scream alerted the Dark Lord to another presence and he turned to see the mother staring wide eyed at her deceased husband. He noticed a young girl running away down the corridor.

"No!" the woman shrieked and Voldemort sneered.

"Be quiet," he snarled and pointed his wand. "Avada Kedavra." When the woman was crumpled on the floor, he made his way through the house, searching for her. It didn't take long. He found her cowering in her parents' bedroom, tears rolling down her untouched face. He grinned evilly and advanced on the whimpering girl he had once been so fond of. His attempt at putting her out of her misery had been foiled by the boy he later knew to be Harry Potter – the one in the prophecy. He was next. Voldemort glared down at the snivelling mess that would become hard and paranoid because of what he was about to do to her. He saw it as doing her a favour. And she told him to enjoy it. So he would.

"P-p-please don't kill me," she begged and he smirked.

"I won't kill you. You are to grow into a strong, beautiful young woman yet." He raised his wand. "Crucio!"

She had hoped never to see him again, in vain.

A strong, hardened and twenty year old Alicia Baker walked out into the Hogwarts grounds, trying to prepare herself for the sight she'd had nightmares of seeing since she was fourteen. It took the screams of McGonagall, Harry's friends and Harry's girlfriend for Alicia to finally look up and see the boy she'd befriended in his first year and her third year in Hagrid's arms.

She screamed too.

This made Voldemort, the hideous, snake-like creature that was nothing like the Tom she had almost fallen for, laugh harshly. When his glinting red eyes connected with hers, cold hatred was all she saw. Her toughened demeanour faltered under his cruel gaze and she knew by the shake of his head that he saw the hopelessness in her hazel eyes. Shaking her own head, she stood tall and readied herself for the fight she knew would come. He had enjoyed torturing and scarring her so she would fulfil her end of the bargain. And now that the supposedly one person who could kill Voldemort was dead, she had no one to watch. So she would do the deed herself or die trying. She fought her way into the Great Hall when the fight began, finding herself between Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley as the three of them duelled Bellatrix Lestrange. A killing curse narrowly missed Ginny and they were all barrelled out of the way as a furious Molly Weasley took over and looked set to kill. Alicia scrambled out of the way and found herself wandless and facing Alecto Carrow. The Death Eater growled and raised her wand. Alicia gulped and glanced around. the last thing she saw before the bright green light hit her was the gleeful eyes of Lord Voldemort.

And so she stood somewhere that resembled a large and empty Great Hall. Alicia thought that it was slightly morbid, considering what had obviously happened to her there, although it was different. It was brighter, cleaner, lacking house tables and teacher's table along with people. She felt lonely.

"It is strange, isn't it?" Oh Merlin, no, it couldn't be. Alicia slowly and fearfully turned around and looked into the pale blue eyes of a sixteen year old Voldemort.

"I never thought I was evil enough to get sent to Hell," she said with a snarl, glaring harshly at the slightly smiling teenager in front of her.

"You always were sensitive," he commented, taking a small step forward. Alicia glowered at his feet and took a bigger step backwards. He sighed.

"What did you expect? Did you think I would run into your arms and delight in your presence? The last time I saw you, this version of you anyway, you were trying to strangle me!" Her sarcasm was slightly hysterical. Then she saw something that she never expected to see on his face: apology.

"That was the version of me with an already broken soul," he told her.

"So, what? This version of you isn't real?"

"No, I am real. I am also whole." Alicia cocked her head to the side. That meant his soul was intact. "This is where the segments of my soul came and formed when the Horcruxes were destroyed – this is the age it all went wrong."

"Yeah, I'm going to have to agree with you there," she replied dryly. Tom smirked.

"I am sorry about that – I believed myself to be doing you a favour and bringing you out of the misery I put you into," he told her and she breathed deeply.

"I am not going to forgive you." Tom grimaced. "I will never forgive any version of you. I don't care if you thought you were doing me a favour, it still wasn't right. I may care a lot about you, this version anyway, but I still hate you. Goodbye Tom." And she walked into the large ball of light that had appeared, never to see the man who had hurt her so much ever again.

In case it wasn't entirely clear, Alicia is older than Harry and was attacked before Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow. Anyway, hope you liked that (morbid as it was). I just thought Tom was OOC in my other story and this keeps him relatively evil and dark. Love Bianca :) x