Hey guys :) I thought it was time for me to start on a Harry Potter fiction. This will be Harry/Tom Riddle since that's my OTP and also a Harry goes dark story. Please forgive any mistakes I overlooked, English is not my mother language. Feel free to ask any questions and to review. Have fun!

Disclaimer: I sadly do not own Harry Potter.

Helpless … Completely, utterly helpless. That was how Harry felt every time his uncle's meaty fists descended on him. That was how he felt when his aunt Petunia just stood there and watched while her husband dragged him into the basement – what he felt when Dudley joined his father and brought his Smeltings stick with him. When he desperately attempted to make them stop, saying he was sorry over and over, when he felt his first bone break, then the second and they still went on, laughing at him and insulting him.

Hatred. That was what he felt when he thought about his relatives. While they used their feet to kick him in the gut and stomp upon his legs he couldn't help but think that he deserved better. He did everything Dumbledore wanted him to do; he was a good boy, the perfect Gryffindor, was he not? Dumbledore. Another surge of hatred for the man who left him here with the muggle beasts he ironically called his loving family. But Harry knew better. And he knew that Dumbledore knew better. His freaking Hogwarts Letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs! He didn't eat much and he knew that the house-elves reported unhealthy eating habits to the school nurse, ever since third year when she told Lavender Brown that her figure was healthy and she should stop starving herself.

He knew the house-elves must have reported to her how he did eat next to nothing every starting school year, simply because he couldn't stomach that much food anymore. Or how everyone who looked for it could see his bruised and battered skin or how he didn't grow properly because of the malnourishment.

So why was he still here, in his own personal hell? How come he had to do everything for this fickle wizarding world when they didn't do anything for him in return? When they left him here to –

Harry abruptly stopped thinking when a particularly hard blow landed on his head and he drifted into unconsciousness. The last thing he heard was Dudley's laughter. The last thing he felt was hatred.