Okay didn't take long until I got this fic figured out, and i am now well into chapter 2. Thank you freedomfighter for the help. now enjoy!
Is this thing on? Oh, good. Hello, my name is Leah Everleton. I had six children and two different husbands. One, who you all know as You-Know-Who. I must say, I am not proud of this fact, no, not now. But, he was oh so ever different when I meant him and fell in love with him. He wasn’t the man you either call You-Know-Who, The Dark Lord, or if you are bold, Lord Voldemort. No, he was whom I was accustomed to calling, Tom Riddle, or just plain old Tom.
Let me tell you a little bit more about myself. I was born and raised in the small Wizarding Community call Black Raven, founded by no other than herself, Rowena Ravenclaw. As you may or may not know, that Black Raven and Godric’s Hallow are the only communities of the founders that are still left on the map. Hufflepuff’s community, as some of you know, was destroyed by a Dark Wizard in the thirteenth century and the Slytherin community is said to have been engulfed by the muggle city of London. We can only assume that Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley may have been once one of its streets.
I’m sorry, I’m rambling off. Like I said earlier, I was born in Black Raven. I was the youngest of four children. Actually I was a little surprise to my parents; I am the youngest by a good nine years. The eldest, older than me by fourteen years, was my brother, Holgan, next in line was Natile, a good thirteen years older, and she married and moved to China, so I never saw her again after the age eight. The second youngest was Shira nine years ahead of me, I knew her the best, but as you can imagine, not that well.
Sorry dear, you must be getting impatient with me, I suppose you want me to tell you when I met young Tom Riddle. Some of you may have been expecting me to meet him on the Hogwarts Express, indeed, that was not the fact. It was in the boat ride over the lake. It was a dreadfully cold ride. We poor first years had to endure a down pour and strong winds of a powerful storm. I remember sitting in the back of the boat next to the boy. He was pale with his lips turning the same shade of blue as mine, though none of us were shivering as bad as he. Wasn’t surprising, his school clothing was so old and worn out. When the wind whipped his cloak out from him, you could see the moth eaten wholes in it.
‘Are you cold?’ I asked rubbing my own hands together trying to get some warmth in my fingers. By the looks of Tom, he didn’t even look like he could make it to the shore. His eyes just shot towards me, he looked curious but fearful; he was such a shy poor boy. Vigorously, he shook his dark wet hair. Even the dropits of water hit me, and I could feel the icy chill specking onto my own wet damp cheeks. ’Here, I’ll sit closer to you, it should help some.’ Scooting next to him, our both soaked bodies huddled together shielding each other from the weather. I will never forget how his body sort of jolted from shock once he felt me next to him. His eyes were rather huge with the look of disbelief that someone was actually being kind to him. Oh, he looked so ever cute there too; he had his hands up to his mouth, breathing into them trying to keep them warm. It almost seemed as if he were biting his finger nails out of a nervous habit.
He didn’t bother to let his hand down as he spoke, still wide eyed asked me ’What’s your name?’ his voice had this sweet sounding tone to it, his voice still not being matured and all as you can imagine. But, when I think of how he asked, he was so timid sounding, as if he were ready for me to lash out or something rather dreadful. I know, I know, it’s hard to believe that the most terrifying wizard in our time was once a timid, young boy. But mark my words, he was more than timid, he was cautious and very critical person. There was nothing he wouldn’t evaluate first before ever acting, even if it were to talk to an eleven year old girl who was snuggled up to him for warmth. To him, it was like everything had to have a downside, nothing was truly on friendly terms with him.
I knew nothing of ordeals such as that, when I was a young girl, so I said rather warmly. ’I’m Leah Everleton.’ my girlish tendencies were kicking in, and I giggled because he was so cute. ’What’s your name?’
He lowered his hands briefly, showing the bottom part of his face, and he answered very quietly that I could barely hear him because of the roaring wind, ‘Tom Riddle.’
We went silent for a bit, but as the castle approached I felt a raise of excitement. I knew that I would be sorted into Ravenclaw, my whole family since they began attending Hogwarts, was in Ravenclaw. But I still had to think, what if I got in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor? Of course, the possibility of me being sorted into Slytherin wasn’t even a possibility to me, they being a power hungry house, and me, being a little girl who just wanted to be a good successful shop owner. Not very ambitious, I must say.
‘Which house do you reckon you will be sorted in?’ I questioned politely, trying not to scare him off.
His face furrowed and turned into a frown, and then he answered somewhat slowly, ‘I have never heard of being sorted into houses.’
My face went into a surprised look, my lips saying ‘oh’. But I quickly wiped that look off and laughed, ‘Are you a Muggle Born?’ He just seemed to get more and more confused. ’Did you have non magical parents, I mean.’
He looked down, almost as if he were embarrassed but when he looked up he had an almost angry look, ’I was brought up in a orphanage, the nuns there say my mother gave birth to me there and abandoned me there. I don’t know anything of them. Though, I guess, it could be that I am a Muggle Born, just like you said.’ he was rather stern with me.
I was sure that if it weren’t for the warmth that I was supplying him with at that moment, he would have scooted away from me. But I recovered saying, ’There’s nothing wrong with being a Muggle Born.’
Once again, I had to endure his critical gaze as he analyzed me studiously. ’There isn’t?’ he was a little bit surprised, however, it didn’t show all that well. His gaze was sterner than anything, hungry for the information I could relay him.
‘Well, unless you are sorted into Slytherin, no there isn’t.’ I assured him with a smile.
‘Slytherin, is that a school house?’ his voice questioned me.
‘Why yes, there’s Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin.’ I named them off on my hand.
I could feel his muscles relax next to me. It was a good sign, it was almost as if he were starting to trust me and except me as his friend. ’Can you tell me about the houses.’ His voice was soft once more, whatever suspicions he had of me had been laid to rest.
I told him everything that my little eleven year old head knew about the four houses. He had brought up his hands to his mouth again, as I spoke, I remember often wondering if this boy was even really listening, but letting his mind wonder. It was the blank, emotionless look that he gave that made me wonder. In the end, I knew he did because of his comment…
‘I wish I knew my lineage.’ he announced. There was something depressing in his tone, as he continued. ‘Because Slytherin would very much suit me, I want to be as successful as I can be. And they seem to be the key. But…’ he whispered. ‘I’m doomed to be a nothing, because my parents couldn’t even bother to keep me. Who knows, I could have had magical parents…’
It was rather sad to see him hunch down and talk so lowly of himself. I had to try and cheer him up and I said rather resiliently, ’Anyone can get into Slytherin. If that’s the house you want, I’m sure you’ll be sorted there. However, I know I will be in Ravenclaw…’
His head shot up as if I had truly given him the greatest ray of hope. He smiled; it was a true smile that made him look like a normal happy child. ’I’m sure we will get along even if we are in separate houses!’
My friendship was starting with this boy, and even now, I am quite glad that I befriended him. I was his only true friend I think Tom Riddle ever truly had. Those who are kind to him, Lord Voldemort never forgets. He will remember all the ways you have displeased or pleasured him. Most of the boys in Slytherin treated him poorly in the beginning, but became his first Death Eaters, and in the end, they all died at his hands. It may have been the only thing that would save me in my later years, befriending him on that small boat on that cold and miserable night.
It is still hard to think of him as the evil man he became. I often think of that eleven year old boy, sitting in that boat huddled up to me and I wonder what indeed went so wrong for him to become the evil Lord Voldemort. I try not to think about, because if anyone had the answer, it would be me. And I often think back, searching for the answer.
Our first year was speeding by at great speeds. Tom had been sorted into Slytherin, I into Ravenclaw as we wanted. To say the least, Tom wasn’t having a good time in that house. In fact, most of the time he went straight to the library after classes and didn’t go down to the Slytherin common rooms until it was curfew. It was the cruelty of that house that I think helped shape him. When he was just a first year though, he had no desire to mingle with the group. As he saw it, what was the point of trying, they hated him just as much as he did. It was common for me to see him walk in and a Slytherin boy stick out her foot, tripping him. Or more commonly, he would show up bruised from an earlier scuffle.
Tom Riddle had so many cuts and bruises that first year that I often forgot how cute he looked on the boat a few months prior. The abuse made him cautious to everyone else; accept me since I had only shown him kindness. There were times I could walk done the hall and see those boys pushing young riddle around, or even casting a semi harmless hex on him. I would drop my books and make sure that they met the end of a good hexing themselves. It was the only thing I could really do for Tom. Just being there meant a lot tom him.
Almost every night, after the classes and dinner, I would head down from the Ravenclaw common rooms to meet up with him. I felt bad for him and I thought he didn’t deserve to be treated like he was by his own house. I myself wasn’t making much friends, I was always too occupied with defending and finding time to be with him to notice the other kids my age.
As my usual routine, I ran into the musty library, huffing and puffing from the long run from Ravenclaw Tower. I stopped in my tracks when I approached our usual table to find Tom not there. Bewildered by the absent Tom, I retraced my tracks back to the main hall of the library. ‘Tom?’ I called out somewhat loudly, getting a look from the up tight librarian. ‘Tom, where are you?’ I called out once more.
‘Ssshh! This is a library, Ms. Everleton! Not one of your social gathering places!’ the old, bony librarian hissed from behind her mountain of books. Her tight grey bun poked out from the side, letting me know that she knew my position in her well maintained library.
I quickly dodged into the next row of books, trying to avoid her hawk like gaze. It was never pleasant for any of us kids to get ‘the glare’. As a matter of fact, it scared me to death. This Librarian was the known enemy to all children at Hogwarts. She probably had given out more detentions than any other professors at Hogwarts. This made me pause for a few moments, waiting until I heard the loud thumping compression sound of her stamping. She was busy and no longer aware of my presence and it aloud me once again to go look for Tom. This time when I called out his name I made sure that I was farther and out of earshot of the librarian. ‘Tom!’ I waited for a few passing seconds before I continued further and further into the library. Getting tired and huffy, I called once more, ‘Tom, answer me!’
‘Leah?’ I heard his soft voice echo somewhere from my right. I quickly ran down that row and found him sitting in the dark in an alcove. It was almost as if he were hiding… from everyone, including me. ‘Oh it is you… I’m s-sorry; I thought you were someone else…’ When Tom was younger, he wasn’t as sly at lying, nor smooth as he later would become. Or maybe, possibly, he was a good lair, just at the time, not skilled enough to get past a person who knew him well. After all, despite his poor treatment at Hogwarts, he kept a bright and cheery persona at all times in front of all the professors. Not one of them knew he was truly depressed, even darkly secretive. Tom even flew under Dumbledore’s radar for a few years. Why should the man pay attention to a poor, depressed boy, who kept his nose clean and got good grades?
There was no reason. So even though Dumbledore had brought Tom his invitation and acceptance to Hogwarts letter, he didn’t care. That was one of the many flaws of Dumbledore when he was young. I truly think that if someone, anyone, who was older and wiser, like Dumbledore, had stepped up to the plate, Tom may have not ever became Voldemort.
Now, I am not saying Dumbledore is a bad man. But it was so obvious that Tom needed a little more professional help than what a little girl could give. I could love him, be his friend, but Tom was so ambitious, but at the same time he felt hopeless. Being his friend and loving him doesn’t fill the void of a role model and Tom eventually found one, one that changed his thinking and put him on the path to Voldemort.
He was so stiff sitting there. It would take someone very self centered not to notice the gloomy state of Tom. Being his friend, I stepped up to the plate and asked with an obvious concerned and caring voice ‘Tom, what is it.’ At my question he hunched into the chair and the shadows didn’t allow me to see his face. He wanted to run from me, not let me know what was wrong. However I stood my ground, not moving from my standing position in front of his table. Though, this was one of my first crash courses with Tom’s depressed and dark side, I had enough experience to know that just being there, waiting patiently would let him know I was there and staying until he told me what was bothering him so.
Some how I knew that his dark stormy gaze was piercing through me, calculating on what to say, or if he could get out of this situation and keep to himself. I must have been standing there for a good ten minutes before he muttered in a darkly and sardonic. ‘I’m disgusting and don’t belong in this school. How can I? I don’t even have a knut to my name. Worst of all, I am a mudblood, unpure, the wretched filthy blood that clogs up the magical world.’
‘Tom there’s-’
‘Shut up, Everleton. I do not want to hear your theories. You’re from a pureblood family, one that is just as ancient as any family in Slyhterin. None of this even flies under your nose because you have never had to put up with-’ his voice cut off, it becoming dry. ‘Being poor, having no family, being a muggle born. No, you are lucky, born lucky. As for I, luck has never been my strongest ally.’
My face frowned. What was I supposed to say? My friend had been sorted into the greediest, snobbish house. All they did was worry about is if the person they were talking to had money, from a good family, and was not a muggle. To say the least, Tom didn’t clear any of those hurdles, or at least he didn’t when he was an eleven year old boy. He would one day become the leader of the Slytherins. But how were we supposed to know that?
After thinking over what he had said for a few moments, I answered reluctantly, ’Well, yes I do come from a pureblood family, and, well, are family is nowhere as rich as most of the Slytherin families, but yes we are moderately rich. When I say moderately, I mean, we have a small fortune, but it’s no bigger than the average Wizarding family… But Tom, you must understand that these people who claim-’
‘Claim what?!’ he interrupted with a quick snap of his voice while it still remained quite calm.
‘Claim superiority!’ I shouted at him, irritated for being interrupted. Before he could say another word, I continued, trying to keep my temper, my jaw was clenched and my words restrained. ‘They don’t realize that there is no family left in the magical world, where they are pureblood. It’s not possible. And how do you pick out which family is pure or not? My family has only been magical for 400 maybe 500 years, Tom. But in the beginning, I came from a muggle. It’s the same on all families!’
‘But I’m the first generation. I’m clearly not from a pureblood family…’
‘That’s not the point, Tom! The point is that if you wait a few generations, your family would be considered pure, it’s like that with all families!’ his head whipped up, his gaze was challenging. I looked away and shook my head. ‘Tom, it doesn’t matter what they say in Slytherin, what matters is that you use the gift that was given to you and…’ I didn’t know what to say next.
‘Harness it.’ Tom finished for me in a grumpy mood.
‘Yes! Why worry, Tom? You’re the brightest in our year. And despite what they say about their blood, you’re better at magic than they are.’ I concluded.
I could see from the way Tom by habit tucked his head down, that he was thinking. I wasn’t sure if he was reflecting on what I said. But he replied rather coldly, ’So why do you hang around me? Honestly, you’re the only one who is…’
Shrugging, I pulled up a chair and sat in front of him. For the first time I really saw his face clearly. It was a face I have never seen on his features, however, it was one that I would later become well acquainted with. His eyes were dark and piercing as he looked at me, with the meanest down turn smile you could ever see on a boy that age.
‘Tom.’ I started softly. ’You have known me for the past few months, have I ever made you think that I cared that you could be a muggle or that you have no money?’
He looked at me with those calculating eyes that were well on their way analyzing me. It only took a few calculating seconds for him to let out a sigh and let his stressed shoulders drop. Tom really amazed me. He was the same age as me, but yet there was this air of maturity. Not him acting like an adult, but, the way he thought and the thoughts he let pass through his mind. I only remember a few moments of our lives where he was truly carefree for long periods of time. If he ever was carefree when he was young, they came with spouts, but quickly disappeared.
‘No.’ he finally whispered, he was ashamed of accusation for sure. He looked up sheepishly, ’No, you have always been kind to me. It’s just that, they…’Tom shook his head violently, as if he could shake a bad thought away. I wasn’t just about to let him keep something in There was something that was obviously chewing up the poor boys conscience.
’What is it?’
His eyes looked away from me. For Tom, it was sometimes hard for him to accept that we were indeed friends and if I could tell there was something wrong, I wanted to hear about it. I knew that at the orphanage he came from he had no friends and none of the nuns particularly liked him. Tom was the boy whose mother gave birth to, before leaving him. The orphanage decided to keep him adopt him in a way. Not the kind loving way, but they had hopes he would one day grow up and run the orphanage. It was clear to me that was the number one thing that Tom did not want to do.
He wanted success. Tom wanted it so much that it often could be seen pulsing through his veins. Without a doubt in my mind, I knew that Tom worked harder than anyone else when it came to school work. It was as if he thought that if he didn’t get any mark other than outstanding, he would be sent away to live as a muggle the rest of his life. Being a muggle, I think when he was a boy, was the scariest thing to him. To be reverted back to a nothing, just someone for the orphanage to raised so that he could inherit that nightmare.
Tom was worrying about being a muggle again that day, ’It’s just that, well, I don’t see how I am going to get enough money to attend school again next year.’
I gave him the most reassuring smile I could muster, ’Tom, do you honestly think that you will be expelled for not having money?’
He gave me the look, like he was thinking I was naïve or something, ’Well how am I going to pay for my second year text books if I don’t have any money?’
My mouth dropped and closed. He had a point. I couldn’t very well just tell him my family would cover it, for I wasn’t sure if they ever would. He gave me an incredulous look, as if he was wondering if I were for real. He shook his head a little irritated at me. ’I know I could just get a job as a newspaper boy. But the thing is, will I make enough? I can always demand a little money from my labor work around the orphanage, they sometimes do that for the older kids who are about to leave…’
I didn’t want to look at him. I felt so ashamed sitting there in my nice and crisp robes that had been purchased for me brand new just a few previous months ago, while my good friend sat across the table from me in these, tattered robes and school clothes that must have been at least ten years old and passed down from brother to brother a few times… It was horrible that an eleven year old on his way to being twelve, would have to work hard just so he could stay in school and get an education.
‘I’m sure that you’ll find some way to pay for your education, Tom.’
I remember that this incident had also ruined my plans for the summer. My best friend was Tom, and I his. I so very much wanted him to come and stay with me a few weeks that summer. But, he needed a job, and he would go back to that ‘hell whole’ he so affectionately called it.
I looked up at him, I was slightly blushing when I admitted my plans to him, ’I- you see… I wanted you to come out this summer for a few weeks… but if… you… you don’t think you can I understand… no biggie…’
My words swiped any haughty look he had had on his face. ’R-really?’ he sputtered out of pure surprise, his eyes getting big out of shock.
I was sure my cheeks were lighting up that dim area from my blushing when I nodded. I glanced up just a bit to see that Tom’s mouth was opening and closing like a fish. ’Well… I…’ his voice cracked a little and he cleared his throat. ’I’m sure if I get enough money before the summer ends… I-I could…’
My heart never soared so high in my life. I couldn’t believe that a sometime difficult boy was actually saying yes to stay with me part of the summer. ’That’s great!’ I said fully energetic my body must have been shivering with so much energy. ’Because I sent an owl to my parents and they said they would be more than happy to come and get you and everything!’
We had another one of our rare moments; he was smiling so beautifully that he looked so handsome. Not many people can say they truly ever saw him smile. But my kindness touched him so much he showed it. His voice was even bright and gentle, ’I’d be glad to join you this summer at your house.’
If I hadn’t been a little girl, my heart would have melted. At those words I remember planning a thousand and one adventures, involving just him and me and the huge acreage of my parents’ estate. _________________
Last edited by Vasaver on February 5, 2008 7:09 pm; edited 4 times in total
It's not really that dull, it's quite good actully, try adding extra detail, you can never have enough detail. _________________ "If it looks like we were scared to death, just a couple of kids trying to save each other. You should've seen it in color."
ur welcome _________________ "If it looks like we were scared to death, just a couple of kids trying to save each other. You should've seen it in color."
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