Chapter 1

Tom Riddle gazed over the turbulent waves, a scowl on his face. Why everyone seemed to think it was such a wonderful idea to go to the sea, he didn't know. However, although he'd never admit it, it was…nice to get away from the orphanage.

"Riddle, we're leaving." Someone called. Turning around, Tom slowly began walking back toward the rest of the group from the orphanage, wishing he could just walk away, or, better yet, simply apparate.

Suddenly, a loud crack broke the relative silence. Whipping around, ready to release his wand from the holster, Tom scanned the area. In a section of long, brittle-looking grass, a girl, seemingly around his age, was lying unconscious, looking decidedly worse for the wear. She had long, messy black hair, ragged, strange clothes much too large for her frame, and numerous cuts, scrapes, and bruises all over her body.

Tom stared for a moment. "Mrs. Cole!" He called loudly, noticing the girl's shallow breathing. While he could really do without all the rumors that would no doubt surface with his discovery of a girl looking half-dead, and could have easily left her there, Tom was curious. And to find out where this girl—presumably a witch—had come from, he had to keep her close by. Mrs. Cole came scurrying towards him, looking peeved.

"What is it, Riddle?" She snapped. Tom simply pointed. Mrs. Cole shrieked. "What did you do?" Tom sighed, trying to keep up his emotionless façade.

"Nothing. I just found her moments ago." Mrs. Cole looked at him suspiciously. "Ms. Cole, the longer we wait, the worse she'll get. She needs a doctor." Mrs. Cole's nostrils flared—she knew Tom was right.

"Billy! Robert!" She barked. The two boys, who were a bit younger than Tom, appeared in an instant. "This girl, whoever she is, needs medical attention. Take off your jackets to carry her. You as well, Riddle."

Billy and Robert moved quickly, and began carrying the girl. Tom followed, his mind racing. The best plan seemed to be contacting Headmaster Dippet, telling him what happened.

The girl was a witch, he was sure of it, and Tom could practically feel the need for more information burning into his core. Snapping out of his thoughts, Tom strode over to Mrs. Cole, who was trying to figure out whether or not the girl was from the village.

"Mrs. Cole," He said. The old woman looked at him, scowling. "I'm sorry, but I've only just realized that this girl goes to my school." Tom lied smoothly. Mrs. Cole narrowed her eyes.

"Why didn't you recognize her before?"

"I'm not exactly close to her, and we don't have many classes together." Tom began. "Not to mention that at the moment, she looks as though Death itself has chewed her up and spat her back out again."

"Fine. Then you contact your school and have them come collect her." Mrs. Cole grumbled. Tom saw an opportunity.

"Mrs. Cole, my school is a bit old-fashioned, and I'm afraid they don't have any telephones. The only way to get in touch would be to write." Mrs. Cole frowned.

"Where's your school, again?"

"Scotland." Mrs. Cole thought for a moment.

"You stay here and write to your bloody school, then." She spat out. "You're on your own for finding transportation, though." Tom nodded, his face a mask. Soon enough, he was watching everyone from the orphanage leave to return to London.

The smallest shadow of a smile crossed his features. For a short time at least, he was free.