Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter; it all belongs to J.K Rowling and Warner Brothers Inc. However, I do own Alex.

Pairings: Tom Riddle Jr./Alex Potter, mentions of Harry/Draco, Past!Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Blaise/Daphne and Past!Alex/Theo

Warnings: Language, Character Death, Mature Scenes, False Twincest, Sadism and Masochism, Dysfunctional Relationships

"Speaking"

'Thoughts'

"Parseltongue"

The following day, the twins had received permission from Mrs. Cole wander around London. The matron had been reluctant as she trusted neither of them. But it was safe to say that the others in the orphanage were quite pleased to be rid of them for the afternoon. As per Dumbledore's instructions, they searched for the Leaky Cauldron – which according to the old wizard, was a popular pub in London amongst their kind. Tom was astonished how no one else paid it any mind, whilst Alex still wondered what non-magical folk saw when they stumbled upon the odd establishment.

Alex recalled her first trip with Harry and Hagrid, as well as the night she and Harry had spent at the place before the start of their third year. It wasn't exactly the brightest or cleanest inn, but it was welcoming, and the barman had always been a friendly fellow. She was surprised when she spotted him behind the counter as they entered, though much younger than when she had last seen him. Tom was simply irked upon learning they shared a name.

Tom, the barman, gladly assisted them in entering Diagon Alley. Like before, he tapped on the bricks sequentially, and Alex smiled as she watched them shift aside to form an archway. With a quick thanks to the man, she tugged on her brother's sleeve and pulled him along.

The young witch peered around inquisitively, noting how a number of shops she should have recognized were missing and yet to be built. There was no Madame Malkin's, no Zonko's, and in place of Florish and Blotts was another book shop called Tomes and Scrolls. She felt her throat close up when she caught sight of where Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes should have been standing instead of a Ministry Office building.

"Interesting place, isn't it?" Tom's voice pierced through her thoughts.

"Yes – it's quite magical, I'd say." She deadpanned in response.

Tom let out a huff of amusement, "Was that supposed to be a pun?"

Alex blinked and turned to him, "That depends. Was it funny?"

The rest of their trip went without a hassle. They had purchased their books and other necessary stationary supplies, as well as some robes from a second-hand shop. Both thought it was best to get only what was needed, lest they ended up owing the school too much. Alex wasn't quite sure how the student funds worked, but she assumed that they would have to pay back what they owe once they were out of school and had decent-paying jobs.

It wasn't until halfway through their shopping that Alex had thought of Gringotts Bank. Daphne had once explained the bare-bones of heirships and inheritances to her – how they had to take a blood test to affirm their identities and see what would be passed down to them once they come of age. Harry would have been the Heir to the Potter and Black families, being the older twin and Sirius' godson. However, they never had the chance to actually confirm this. Alex could count on one hand the number of times they had visited Gringotts, though the time they broke in to steal Hufflepuff's cup didn't really count. The only other occasion was during their first year, but at the time, they didn't even know about inheritances let alone think of it. Hagrid had accompanied them and never brought it up.

Alex paused in her steps. Did Dumbledore have Hagrid accompany them for this purpose? Had it been someone like Professor Snape or Professor McGonagall, perhaps they would have mentioned it. Did Hagrid even know about the heirship? Did he intentionally keep it from them? He wouldn't do that, surely? Hagrid was their friend…

…And he was also extremely loyal to Dumbledore, Alex lamented, her brows scrunching at the thought.

"Alex?" Tom's face unexpectedly appeared in her line of sight, almost causing Alex to reel back in shock, "Is everything alright? You look troubled."

'Fine' was what she wanted to say. But that would have been a massive lie when betrayal and denial flooded her at the epiphany that her and Harry's first friend may have been a part of a plot to kill them since they were eleven. And as she recalled, Tom had framed him for murdering a student when they were in school – there was a high possibility that she would be seeing him.

"I was thinking about this whole thing – about Hogwarts," she began hesitantly, "I'm… I'm nervous."

I'm terrified.

"Nervous?" Tom mused, "Whatever for?"

Alex bit at her bottom lip, "What if I don't do well?"

What if I can't save everyone?

"What if the others don't like me?"

I have no allies or friends here. How would I know whom to trust?

"I'm not as talented as you." The young witch stated factually, "Magic seems to come so easily to you."

I'm not strong enough…

Tom chuckled and gently cradled his twin's face in his hands, brushing his thumb tenderly across her cheek as he met her emerald gaze steadily, "Your worries are needless, dear sister. You underestimate your clever mind, and anyone would be a fool to insult you."

"But the children in the orphanage – "

"– are nothing more than pathetic non-magical beings. Their opinions do not matter." Tom sneered at the thought of the other occupants that shared their living space, and felt his blood start to boil. Had someone said something to Alex to make her feel this way? Did they not understand that his sister was not to be touched? If they were feebleminded enough to disregard his warnings, then clearly, punishment was due.

"End of discussion," He piped in sternly when Alex looked ready to argue further, removing his hands from her face and rested one at the small of her back to lightly nudge her forward, "Now, let us move on. We only have the wands left on the list."

…

As they finally reached Ollivander's, Alex was just as awed and excited as the first time she had visited his shop. The moment she realized her wand was no longer with her, she had been devastated at the fact that she would have had to wait to reunite with it in Diagon Alley. What if, by chance, someone claimed it before she did? Her wand had been very picky with its wielder; Harry had been the only other person to successfully cast a spell with it, and she was certain that to some degree, Tom would be able to as well. But that was only because they had brother wands, all possessing the same type of core from the same phoenix its feathers were harvested from. So surely, no one else would have taken it?

"Ah, Mr. Riddle and Miss Riddle – I wondered when I'd be seeing you both." There standing at the front desk of the shop, was a younger Garrick Ollivander.

Alex was ecstatic to come across the familiar, yet not so familiar face of the old wandmaker. The Ollivander in her time had been kidnapped and tortured by Voldemort information on the Elder Wand. She and Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, had rescued the wandmaker and Luna Lovegood from Malfoy Manor just before the battle at Hogwarts.

"Sir, you talk about wands as if they have feelings," Alex speculated as she and Harry watched the man inspect the crafted pieces they had handed him, "Like they can think,"

Ollivander smiled wistfully, leaning forward a bit on his seat as if he was about to tell them a large secret, "The wand chooses the wizard, Miss Potter. That much has always been clear to those who have studied wandlore."

What if it no longer chose her?

"Good afternoon, Mr. Ollivander." Alex greeted politely, "We're here to get our wands."

She didn't miss the look on Tom's face as she said this, but chose to ignore it.

"Ah, of course, Miss Riddle! Lady's first... Now, please hold out your wand arm." Alex held out her right hand, appearing unbothered by the tape measures floating about.

She had always assumed that her and Harry's wands had picked them because they were destined to defeat Voldemort. But that didn't turn out to be the case.

One simply can't exist without the other.

No, they were meant to be equals – that's why Voldemort could never seem to harm them with his own wand.

"Miss Riddle?"

Alex looked up to see Ollivander holding out a wand to her. "Try this – ten inches, mahogany wood with unicorn hair, rather supple."

She gave it a wave, breaking the vase on the desk. Tom blinked at the sight, and Alex immediately set the wand back down.

"Not quite," Ollivander muttered, not even concerned at the prospect of more damaged furniture as he went back to skimming through the shelves. Eventually, he pulled out another box and gingerly unwrapped the piece of crafted wood, "How about this... Thirteen inches, ebony wood with phoenix feather, rigid."

Alex smiled at the familiar description, ardently grasping the wand as it was offered to her. A familiar warmth spread throughout her body, white sparks shooting out from the tip of the wand in her hand as if it shared her enthusiasm. It felt good to be reunited.

Ollivander smiled as well, but for an entirely different reason, "Well done, Miss Riddle! Mind you dear, this is a rather stubborn wand."

Just like its owner. She could practically hear Harry's voice echoing wryly in her head.

Tom, who had been watching the whole ordeal with interest, eagerly stepped forward for his turn.

"Your wand arm, Mr. Riddle?" prompted Ollivander.

Tom held out his right hand, like Alex had done, and stared at the floating tape measures curiously. Alex was distinctly reminded of Harry.

No! She scolded herself, It's not him. Not my brother. Not Harry…

Yet, she began to doubt. The Voldemort she knew and had come to despise with every fiber of her being was a heartless, snake-faced dark wizard who knew no emotion but anger and enjoyment for another's pain. But in the time she had spent with the young Tom Riddle; she had seen him angry, envious, concerned, sad, and dare she say 'playful' – but she had yet to see him truly happy. He had shown her his emotions, something the Dark Lord could have never done as he was deemed incapable of doing so.

Did he deserve the way I was treating him? Alex thought idly, He's a child…

"Here you are, Mr. Riddle... Thirteen and a half inches, yew and phoenix feather, rather pliable." Alex's ears perked up just as Ollivander announced the make of the wand, and observed intently as Tom held the it in his hand. She could practically feel the magic pulsing around him, green sparks emitting from the tip of his newly acquired wand.

Tom grinned in satisfaction.

"A very powerful wand indeed, Mr. Riddle. I trust that you shall do great things with it in the future."

You-Know-Who did great things, terrible but great.

Alex truly felt like she had her work cut out for her. Trying to prevent a future Dark Lord from delving into the Dark Arts was like trying to keep Oliver Wood from Quidditch – damn near impossible. There was no way she could stop him from wanting to find out about his parents – he deserved to know this, at least – or discovering his heritage and Salazar's hidden chamber. She just had to stop him from splitting his soul and turning into a loveless, emotionless psychopath.

How exactly was she supposed to do that?

She was surely going to die before her seven years at Hogwarts were over.

"Curious, very curious." Ollivander remarked wistfully.

"Sorry? What's curious?" Tom and Alex chorused, and blinked once they had realized they had said the exact same thing at the exact same time. Alex had a vague sense of déjà-vu.

Ollivander chuckled, "Why, I remember each wand I've ever made, Mr. Riddle. The phoenix feathers in your wands happen to come from the same bird, along with one other I haven't sold yet."

Harry... Alex internally sighed.

"So, you're saying our wands are like... brothers?" inquired Tom.

Ollivander nodded in affirmation, "You could put it that way, yes."

"Interesting..."

Alex groaned, "Honestly, Tom? Have you no other adjectives?"

Tom's grin widened considerably, and he went to pay for their wands.

September 1, 1938

"Platform 9 ¾? Is this a joke?" Tom hissed.

Alex fought to contain her amusement as she witnessed the young wizard's patience wear thin. They had walked around the train station twice in search of the platform, and eventually stopping by the wall between Platforms 9 and 10. She knew where it was, of course, but couldn't exactly tell him that when she wasn't supposed to know.

"You've seen bricks move around and form an archway to a secret shopping district, at a pub that no one else can see." She pointed out to him, "This isn't the oddest thing we've witnessed so far."

"I know that!" Tom snapped as he held the train tickets in his hands, "But this doesn't explain where it is!"

"It'll be somewhere near Platform 9, which is where we're standing." Alex pointed to the number on the ticket, before gesturing to the sign above their heads, "If I were to guess, the entrance would be right between nine and ten."

"Alex…" Tom began slowly, "That's a wall."

The young witch sighed, "And it's possibly magic. You can't simply use your eyes, Tom. Think on what I said about the Leaky Cauldron."

Tom scoffed, "And what do you suggest we do to open a pathway? Tap it with our wands?"

Odd, Alex blinked in bewilderment, Harry implied something similar the first time around.

"I wouldn't recommend that, no." stated Alex, "But why not try going through it?"

"You realize you are asking me to run into a brick wall?"

"Yes, but who knows?" Alex wheeled her cart to face the wall between both platforms, "It might surprise you." And she pushed forward, Tom's call for her slightly muffled as she disappeared to the other side.

…

It was just like how she remembered it in her Hogwarts days, and it was amazing how it brought back so many brilliant memories, save for the dementor attack in their third year. She didn't think she'd be able to ride it again after everything, but Alex stood before the Hogwarts Express with her so-called brother and a nostalgic smile on her face.

"Amazing, isn't it?" She remarked, but Tom did not respond. He was too busy eyeing the bright red steam train, and the odd crowd of people around them. "It's not polite to stare, Tom."

This time, the young wizard did turn to her, a small smirk plastered on his face. "Let's find an empty compartment then, shall we? I don't fancy sharing one with a bunch of rowdy children."

Alex rolled her eyes at him and moved to board the train, Tom following close behind.

It didn't take long for them to find an empty compartment at the end of the train, as they were one of the first few who had boarded. The twins settled next to each other on one side of the compartment, much to Alex's chagrin, but she offered no protest. Moments later, the train started filling up. People chattered as they passed the twins' compartment, but no one bothered to enter. For this, Tom was thankful.

Unfortunately, his luck didn't last when a boy about their age requested to join them. Alex easily recognized the slicked-back platinum blonde hair, the boy's pointed face and steel grey orbs, and the haughty air that surrounded him. There was no doubt in her mind that this boy was a Malfoy.

"Mind if I sit with you?" he asked.

Alex exchanged a look with Tom, and the former shrugged, "I don't see why not."

The boy offered a curt nod in thanks and stole the empty spot across from them.

"I'm Malfoy, by the way. Abraxas Malfoy." he introduced as he leaned forward slightly in his seat and held his hand out to the male twin, who shook it after the slightest hesitation.

"I'm Tom Riddle, and this is my sister, Alex."

Alex merely gave a nod in acknowledgement. She couldn't help the amusement and anticipation that briefly flooded her at the similarity between Draco and his grandfather. If this Malfoy was anything like Draco, it wouldn't be long before the topic of blood status came into play.

She wasn't wrong.

"Riddle, you say?" Malfoy mused, the disdain slowly creeping into his tone, "Not a name I recognize. Tell me – what is your status?"

Tom blinked. "Sorry, status?"

Noticing Malfoy visibly stiffen in his seat, Alex's eyes narrowed as she interjected, "We're not muggleborns, if that's what you mean." She propped her elbow on the window ledge and rested her head on her knuckled in an attempt to appear bored and unaffected, "Not everyone can have the privilege of carrying a surname such as yours, you know. If I may ask you kindly reserve judgement for now, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yes, I suppose." To her relief, Malfoy chuckled, tension in his shoulders easing, "Very well, Miss Riddle. Is there a house you were hoping to be sorted into?

"I'd say Slytherin." Alex responded easily, "Ravenclaw doesn't sound too bad, though a bit too bookish for my taste."

"How about you, Tom?" Mafoy queried her male counterpart.

"I'd have to agree with Alex. Slytherin does sound like the ideal house…" Tom responded in kind.

Alex, however, was alleviated that the conversation kept flowing smoothly and dangerous topics narrowly avoided for the time being. She expected Tom to question her about her odd behavior at some point; he'd want to know where she had attained particular pieces of information, and she wasn't quite certain how she was going to answer. "I just know things" wasn't going to cut it all the time, and if she wasn't careful, Tom might start to believe that she was some sort of seer.

When Malfoy had brought up the topic of blood status, she simply remembered Hermione Granger. She was one of Harry's best friends and brightest witch of her age – and the one who had outwitted even the most high-ranking purebloods and saved their lives countless of times due to her extensive knowledge. But the girl was a muggleborn, and not to mention, terribly underestimated. How she wanted to voice this out, but couldn't. She had to remember that this wasn't Draco; this Malfoy would have no idea who Hermione was. So she didn't speak after that, but she felt the odd glances Tom cast her way every now and then as he conversed with their new acquaintance. Alex couldn't stop the heat that rushed to her cheeks as she cursed herself for her stupidity... and her big mouth.

She shouldn't be surprised – she had been told more often than not that she was a Slytherin with morals of a Gryffindor, after all.

…

If there was one thing Tom Riddle hated, it was not knowing things. Therefore, it was only natural to be curious of his sister's unusual behavior. He had noticed the slight changes in her, even during their time at the orphanage. He noticed how often she was lost in her thoughts, and how increasingly wary she had become of everyone, himself included. The fact alone worried him.

When she spoke to Malfoy, he had sensed a sort of warm energy humming in the air around her. It felt good, relaxing even. The sensation prickled at his skin, travelling up his arms and down his spine, making him shudder unnoticeably. Then... it was gone. He peered at Alex tentatively, only to find her face impassive as she stared out the window. He didn't miss the flush of her cheeks, and it almost made him smirk; she was blushing, how lovely. Something bubbled in the pit of his stomach, but he brushed the feeling away as the train ride continued with Malfoy's meaningless chatter.

By the time nightfall came, the three children had already changed into their robes – Tom had kicked Abraxas out of the compartment for Alex to change, and Alex had kicked Tom out. He could see Alex's eyes glitter, a small smile flitting across her lips as they neared their destination. Was it happiness? Excitement? He wasn't sure, but he certainly liked the expression she wore.

"Malfoy, Abraxas!"

The blonde gave them a rather arrogant grin before he sauntered off to the front and seated himself on the stool. The hat had barely touched his head before it cried out, "SLYTHERIN!" Malfoy then hopped off the stool, and strode towards the table of students in green and silver ties, all of whom were politely applauding.

Alex knew Tom was nervous, even if he was doing a very good job at hiding it. He had told her, back at the orphanage that he wanted to be in Slytherin. He had read about the houses in Hogwarts: A History – he could certainly give Hermione a run for her money – and he was worried that he would not be accepted into such an exclusive house, mostly due to their unknown bloodline. She knew though, that he would be accepted, and soon become one of the darkest wizards of all time. Hopefully, that would change.

The sorting continued.

Macnair — Mallory — McGonagall — McKinnon — Mulciber — Nott — Parkinson — Potter — Prince...

"Riddle, Alexis!"

Despite herself, Alex gave Tom a reassuring smile and walked up to the front to take her seat on the stool. She didn't miss those dark green eyes settling on her in a penetrating stare before the Sorting Hat was placed on her head, blocking her line of sight.

So I've sorted you before, I see.

Alex jumped, terror suddenly flooding her. How did the hat know?

My dear, I am an ancient artifact that transcends time. I know all those I have, and will sort.

Will you tell anyone?

No, no. That secret shall remain with us. I am forbidden to speak of what stirs within a student's mind.

Thank you.

I think it is time you go back to your chosen house, is it not? You shall be, or have been, a brilliant addition to...

"SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherins applauded politely as they did for every other first year sorted into their house, but Alex was not blind to some of the disgusted gazes sent her way. It was like her first year with Harry all over again, however, the scorn to her surname was for an entirely different reason. Alex ignored most of them, and promptly seated herself between Malfoy and a boy she distinctly recalled to be Edmund Lestrange.

Both nodded to her in acknowledgement. She returned the gesture, desperately trying not to focus on the fact that she was sitting between two of Voldemort's first inner circle Death Eaters.

"Riddle, Tom!"

Alex found herself crossing her fingers under the table as Tom sat on the stool, his eyes meeting hers just as the hat was placed over his head. It wasn't long, roughly seven seconds, before the hat cried out, "SLYTHERIN!"

There was a new sense of satisfaction in Tom's eyes, all his nerves long forgotten as he moved to sit next to Alex. Edmund scooted over to make room for Tom, and Alex smiled at him in thanks.

"And you were worried that you couldn't get into Slytherin." Alex whispered to him when he seated himself, and Tom chuckled.

"Yes – well… Now I see my worry was unnecessary." he told her.

Unnecessary indeed. So why did she feel like something was not right? Perhaps it was because Dumbledore was staring intently at the pair of them, and he didn't look at all thrilled by their placement. Or maybe it was because the Parkinson girl was glaring at her not too far across the table, most likely for settling into the spot next to Malfoy.

And again, Alex lamented, I'll have to sleep with one eye open.

I hope you guys enjoyed this. Reviews are welcomed and appreciated!

~Cassandra