
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4504404.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Tom_Riddle, Harry_Potter/Voldemort, Charlus_Potter_&_Harry
      Potter
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Tom_Riddle, Charlus_Potter
  Additional Tags:
      Tom_is_not_a_nice_guy, Murder, Attempted_Murder, Reincarnation, Canon
      character_deaths, OOC
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-08-05 Words: 11175
****** Moments When ******
by AppleWood
Summary
     Harry Potter- the boy said to have the power to defeat him. The
     infant stared at Lord Voldemort calmly. Voldemort laughed,
     remembering moments when they were Tom Riddle and Harry Wilson.
     "Come back to haunt me, have you?"
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
                                   May, 1937
“We really cannot accept any more, we’re already at our wits end,” the woman
muttered, “are you sure every other option has been exhausted?”
“We combed the area he was found in and the surrounding but we found no one who
even knew or had seen him before, and we’ve held onto him personally for weeks
now, no one has come to claim the lad,” the policeman said, one hand clasped on
the small boy’s shoulders.
Mrs. Cole sighed, and bent down to look at the small boy, he was very cute, it
would help with possible adoption- but he was already at least eight or nine
years old, most couples wanted to adopt younger. The boy peered at her with his
large green eyes and gave her a shy smile.
“It’s either here or holed up in some cell,” The policeman informed her.
Mrs. Cole looked at the boy again and felt a tug at her heart and let out a
sigh before nodding.
“Does he have a name?” Mrs. Cole asked, one eyebrow raised.
“None that he remembers ma’am, however, while at the station he took a shine to
one of the officers, Harrison Wilkes, so we started calling him Harrison’s
shadow for a while and soon it just became Harrison Jr. or Harry for short,”
the officer filled her in, now slightly pushing the boy forward.
“Do you really not remember anything Harry?” Mrs. Cole asked, “No last name, no
family?”
“No ma’am,” Harry’s voice was soft and shy as if he had been schooled to be
seen and not heard, “I can only remember the past few weeks.”
“Very well.” Mrs. Cole said, putting an arm around Harry and taking a small bag
full of some donated clothes from the men in the police station, “Go on and run
inside, there’s a girl named Marianne who can help you find a place to sleep
until we can hopefully get a cot donated for you, or a room miraculously clears
up.”
Harry nodded and started to walk up to the looming and rickety building. Mrs.
Cole watched him walk in before turning back to the officer.
“Anything else?”
“No, I’ve told you everything we’ve been able to find out about him,” The
officer bowed his head slightly, “thank you for taking him in, the men will be
relieved.”
“Yes, well, have a nice day.” Mrs. Cole turned around and began to walk up
after Harry.
“Wait!” The officer suddenly called, causing Mrs. Cole to turn around, “Take
care of him yeah? We’ve all grown fond of him, he’s a good lad.”
“We’ll try.” Mrs. Cole muttered as she walked up and into the door.
As Mrs. Cole walked in through the door she was greeted by Marianne who gave
her an encouraging smile, “The new boy is just darling Mrs. Cole, I’m sure
he’ll be adopted right away if we teach him how to cook and clean and maybe
sew.”
“Where’d you put him?” Mrs. Cole asked, “I need to bring him his things.”
“Oh, I put him with Tom,” Marianne said a bit cautiously.
Mrs. Cole felt a chill go down her spine and she turned to look at Marianne.
“Mrs. Cole, please understand, Tom is the only one here who has a room all to
himself, plus Tom could do with a friend around him, he’s always off on his
own.”
“He chooses to be alone Marianne, he likes his space.” Mrs. Cole answered.
“I don’t know why you favor Tom Mrs. Cole, he seems to always get what he
wants.”
“I do it not for him, but for everyone else.” Mrs. Cole thought. Clearing her
throat she said out loud, “Fine he may stay there.”
                                    ---------
 
Tom smirked as his hand slipped into his pocket and gently caressed the ring he
had just taken from a small girl named Missy. It had apparently been left for
her by her mother. Tom scowled as he thought about it. At least his mother had
died and hadn’t willingly dropped him off here.
He entered his room in order to put it in his box when he stilled. Sitting on
the floor of his room was a small boy who was flipping through his only book.
Or well, the book he had stolen from Howard two years ago when he heard Howard
was going to be adopted.
The boy looked up and Tom realized that he didn’t recognize the boy nor did the
boy seem to recognize him, which wouldn’t seem so farfetched since there were
quite a lot of children in Wool’s Orphanage- however, all the children knew of
him and certainly knew by now not to touch his things.
“What are you doing?” Tom asked coldly.
The boy seemed confused at his tone and simply gestured toward the book,
“Reading.”
“You can read?” Tom questioned, raising one eyebrow in disbelief. Hardly anyone
at the orphanage could read, sometimes the older ones were able to learn some
basic reading skills when they picked up jobs in order to help out. The fact
that Tom had taught himself how to read was more proof that he was better than
the rest of them, “How did you learn to read?”
The boy’s forehead crinkled in thought, before shaking his head, “I don’t
know.”
“Liar.” Tom accused, he let the strange power he always had course through him
he looked the boy directly in the eyes, “Tell me the truth.”
The boy looked at him curiously not being affected by whatever Tom was doing,
“I am telling the truth.”  
“Tom.”
Tom’s face immediately went blank, into a perfect mask of politeness as he spun
around to face the orphanage’s matron Mrs. Cole.
“Yes Mrs. Cole?”
“This is Harry, your new roommate until space clears up elsewhere,” Mrs. Cole
said, walking over to the boy and giving him a bag which the boy accepted, “I
expect you to make him feel welcome here.”
“Understood Mrs. Cole,” Tom replied with an easy and charming smile.
“Harry here has amnesia, do you know what that is?” Mrs. Cole questioned him.
“It’s when you lose your memory.”
“Right, so I don’t want any funny business alright? He was brought here
personally by the police and I wouldn’t be surprised if they came to check up
on him from time to time.” It was said nonchalantly enough but Tom could see it
for what it was really for- a warning.
“Of course Mrs. Cole.”
Mrs. Cole gave a curt nod and then walked out of the room.
                                                              ---------
                                                                  
                                  July, 1937
 
“It’s a really nice day out today Tom!” Harry said, laughing as he ran around,
he had been at Wool’s Orphanage for three weeks now and had seemingly adjusted
well enough. He had quickly gotten over his shyness and had become a very
bright and chatty child.
However, he would not stop following Tom. Tom likened it to a baby duck that
had imprinted. No matter how harsh his words were or how much he ignored the
boy, he always came back.
Tom had not harmed Harry yet, since he did seem to be visited quite often by
the policemen who had found him. If they were in the area they tended to stop
by to exchange words.
“Tom,” Harry said poking Tom at his side, “I hear we get to go to the sea on
holidays! Is that really true? I don’t think I have ever been to the sea
before.”
Tom once again, did not reply. Harry didn’t seem to mind (he never really did)
as he continued to bask in the rare sunlight.
“Tom, do you know when your birthday is?”
Tom finally snapped at Harry, “Of course I know when it is, I turn eleven this
December. Who does not know when their birthday is?” With that, Tom turned
around and did not even look back as he walked away, intent on losing the ever-
growing nuisance that was Harry.
“Oh,” Harry said, letting Tom go ahead as he looked down and whispered, “I
don’t.”
                                    ---------
 
The children all knew to fear Tom. They had bullied him once, rallied against
him because he was different and they could sense it. Not anymore. Now they
cowered at his feet and Tom felt powerful.
They held no such fear of Harry.
Harry ran from the group of boys who were chasing him with sticks. Harry
Hunting, they called it. Everything they wished they could inflict on Riddle,
they attempted to inflict on Harry.
Harry was fast though, and was soon clawing his way up a tree. The boys’ sticks
were long though and though he was far up, they still managed to land a few
good hits on his legs, leaving red marks that would later turn into ugly purple
bruises.
“Tom!” Harry called out as he spotted the boy, “Tom, help!”
The boys hitting at his legs suddenly froze in fear as they too spotted Tom.
Tom regarded Harry’s situation with cold eyes until finally he simply turned
and walked away, not doing a thing.
Harry cried out as the boys exchanged dangerous smiles with one another and
continued.
                                    ---------
                                 August, 1937


Wool’s Orphanage took many of their charges out to the sea. It was tradition
that never seemed to fail, no matter how bad the monetary situation got or how
many children they currently needed to look after.
However, Mrs. Cole was on high alert, the last time they had come here the
incident had happened. She was sure that Tom had done something to poor Amy
Benson and Dennis Bishop. They still refused to talk about it, and had refused
to come today, choosing to stay back at the orphanage.
Her eyes zeroed in on Tom Riddle, being followed as always, by small Harry.
Harry was a wonderful child, however, she felt his association with the Riddle
boy was truly holding him back. How many opportunities had the boy missed to
meet potential families because he chose to follow Riddle around like a puppy
rather than talk to the families?
Suddenly some kids shouted in pain and Mrs. Cole diverted her attention. A
couple of children had tripped and scraped their knees while rough-housing. She
tutted as she went over to inspect.
Tom smirked as he noticed everyone’s distraction. The smirk grew dangerous as
he turned to Harry who was also looking in the direction of the commotion,
worry in his eyes.
“Harry, do you want to see a secret place?”
Harry seemed to hesitate upon seeing Tom’s expression but nodded anyway. Tom
roughly gripped Harry’s upper-arm and closed his eyes and thought of his Cave
while drawing his power to the surface.
As they appeared in the Cave, rather than being scared like Benson and Bishop,
Harry smiled.
“Whoa!” Harry called out as he clambered to the edge of the lake and peered at
the small island in the middle, “This is amazing Tom! I didn’t know you could
do that! How did you do that?”
Tom’s face was in a scowl nothing seemed to scare Harry. He didn’t fear Tom,
and it annoyed Tom to no end.
“Why aren’t you scared?”
“Huh?” Harry responded, looking at the boy in slight amusement, “Why should I
be scared? You’re my friend.”
“Friend?”
“Well, yeah, at least I think so,” Harry got a bit closer to the water and let
his fingers trail along the surface of the water, “Can I tell you something
Tom?”
Tom felt something ugly claw up within him, friends were for the weak. Friends
were for the filth that he was forced to share space with in the orphanage.
Friends were a distant dream that Tom buried and hid underneath his hatred. He
did not need a friend.
“Can you swim Harry?” Tom suddenly asked, disregarding Harry’s own question.
Harry made the face he always made when he was trying to remember something he
had long ago forgotten, “I…I don’t know Tom, I’m sorry.”
“Then you better be careful, the water’s deep.” Tom whispered.
With a strong shove, Harry disappeared with a splash.
Tom ignored whispers of a foreign emotion just as he ignored the gasps and
splashes and left the Cave.
                                   --------- 
 
Harrison Wilkes was a very tall imposing figure who did not talk much nor show
much emotion, which was why he was considered so great at his job. Very rarely
did he ever let fear or doubt get in the way of catching a criminal.
However, right now, he was beyond angry.
Harry had at first been a hindrance to doing his job, perhaps he liked the fact
that Wilkes stayed quiet so he could prattle on without being interrupted or
maybe Wilkes made him feel safe, but soon the boy had grown on him to the point
where he would let Harry go out with him if he weren’t doing anything
dangerous.
He would have taken the boy in himself, but his wife had insisted that she was
not ready for a child- and if she was she would want her own. He now wished he
had disregarded her worries and had taken him in.
His partner was currently interrogating the suspect, 10-year-old Tom Marvolo
Riddle.
When the matron had come to them with her face pale and shaken to report Harry
as missing, she was quick to point the boy out and now that he was in the same
room with him, Wilkes knew why. The boy was unsettling. Despite the boy’s damn
near perfect answer and alibi Wilkes just knew that he was responsible for
whatever had happened to young Harry.
When Wilkes’ partner turned to him and gave him a half-hearted shrug he damn
near flipped over the table and lunged for the boy- in fact, he might have, had
the door not opened at that moment.
In walked a wet, shivering, but alive Harry. Wilkes gathered the boy in a hug
before pulling away and promptly asking him what happened.
Harry shivered some more and bowed his head, “I- I wanted to be closer to the
sea because I thought…I thought maybe I had been to the sea before and I could
remember. I wandered off from Tom and managed to climb down the rocks but it
was too slippery for me to climb back up.”
There were questions and “are you sures” and plenty of suspicious glares sent
towards Tom, but Harry assured them all.
“I do not think I have anything more to add,” Mrs. Cole said after the police
were done admonishing and lecturing the boy, “Come, you’ve been gone for two
whole days, you must be starving.”
Harry shuffled as he moved to follow, he brushed past Tom and did not meet
Tom’s glances.
A room, perhaps by fate, suddenly cleared up and Harry moved out of Tom’s room
shortly after.
Tom felt something he had not felt since he was younger and helpless- shock.
                                    ---------
                                 October, 1937


Harry was once again up the tree, it seemed like each time he climbed higher
and higher to escape the bullies below him. Despite the fact that he did not
hang around Tom anymore he was still a social outcast among the others and
Harry Hunting retained its popularity amongst the boys.
Harry pressed himself closer to the trunk as he felt a rock narrowly miss his
head. Harry closed his eyes and held out his hands in front of him as if to
block the rocks if they came near him.
Soon however, he heard the scuttle of the boys running away and Harry
tentatively opened his eyes and looked down and was surprised to see Tom Riddle
staring up at him with a look Harry had never seen before on his face.
Harry climbed out of the tree and spoke to Tom for the first time since the
Cave incident, “Why?”
Tom pulled a scowl as if he was not too sure why he did it himself but spat
out, “You are my friend, are you not?”
                                    ---------
                                  March, 1938


Contrary to popular belief by many who visited Wool’s Orphanage, Billy Stubbs
was not an orphan.
Billy Stubbs was a nice boy. He had just moved quite close to the orphanage
with both of his young parents. He often came to the orphanage to play with the
children and usually brought along his pet rabbit and let the children who were
not allowed pets to play with him.
Billy Stubbs was a much more appropriate friend for Harry to have than Tom
Riddle, Mrs. Cole thought as she looked out the window to see Billy and Harry
talking to each other while Harry pet the rabbit with a child-like reverence.
It also was a good thing that Billy’s parents were looking into possible
adoption since Billy’s mother could not conceive anymore and Billy wanted a
sibling.
Harry, meanwhile, thought it was nice to have another friend. While his and
Tom’s friendship had been repaired and the two got along a lot better now, Tom
was still quite withdrawn and still often ignored Harry or asked to be alone.
When Billy Stubbs had enthusiastically greeted him, Harry had been ecstatic.
Plus, Harry was sure that Tom liked all the personal time he had now that Harry
had Billy to play with.
Billy, Billy’s rabbit, and Harry were currently chatting. Harry decided that
while Tom was a great listener, it was great to have someone who responded to
his questions.
“So you really don’t remember anything?” Billy Stubbs asked, his eyes wide.
“Nope!” Harry said shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders.
“You could be anyone!” Billy Stubbs exclaimed with excitement, “My mum told me
about how a Russian princess had escaped death and people have been seeing her
everywhere!”
“I’m a boy, I don’t think I’m a missing princess,” Harry pointed out, laughing
at Billy’s nonsense.
“But still! You could be royalty!”
“If I am, I will make your rabbit the royal rabbit,” Harry said with fake
solemnity, causing Billy to also laugh and pretend to bow to his rabbit.
Neither of them noticed either Mrs. Cole or Tom watching them from windows.
There were advantages to Harry’s friendship, Tom had learned. He was much less
likely to be punished if Harry was around, for one. Second, Harry was one of
the only ones who possessed any type of intelligence as far as Tom was
concerned- and because he was intelligent and chose to follow Tom showed that
Tom was worthy of recognition.
And sometimes Harry chased away the loneliness that clawed at his very soul.
Tom, he realized, was not very willing to give up any of these advantages. As
he watched Harry laugh with the filth that was Stubbs his lip curled into
something of a snarl.
                                    ---------

Harry was saddened when Billy Stubbs moved after his rabbit had been hung from
the rafters. Billy had been so shaken up by the event that his parents had
little choice but to move, and Billy had never even come to say goodbye to
Harry.
Harry turned to look at Tom who was re-reading their only book once more.
He knew Tom had done it. Despite what Mrs. Cole thought, Harry did not have any
illusions that Tom was innocent, he still had not forgotten about the Cave
incident- and Tom had not even ever apologized. What Harry did not understand
was why. Billy Stubbs was Harry’s friend, and had even been keeping Harry out
of his hair.
Tom usually only hurt bullies or people who deserved it. It was something that
Harry sort of admired- it reminded him of the policemen.
Harry bit his lip and went deep into thought, maybe Billy was secretly mean? He
desperately wanted to ask Tom, but Tom had been in a very good mood ever since
he heard Billy was moving, and he did not want to do anything to ruin it, so he
kept his mouth shut and his questions to himself.
                                    ---------
                                   May, 1938
 
“That’s wicked!” Harry said, as he saw Tom hissing to a small snake curled
against his wrist. He seemed to always see snakes around Tom, but had never
ever seen him do this. Secretly he was pleased that Tom was sharing this part
of him.
The snake seemed to nod at whatever Tom had said and slithered away, into the
grass.
“You could become a famous snake charmer,” Harry said jokingly. Harry expected
an eye-roll or perhaps a sarcastic reply but instead-
“No. It’s my gift. My secret. You’re lucky I even showed you.”
Harry winced, knowing he had angered Tom as he stalked away back to Wool’s.
As Tom entered the orphanage and closed the door behind him, Harry sighed and
sat down in the grass. It seemed like there was never a right time for Harry to
tell Tom, though sometimes he thought that even if he managed to tell Tom he
would not even be paying attention.
Making sure no one else was looking, Harry concentrated on a pebble and made it
levitate for a few moments before dropping it back down onto the grass.
                                    ---------
                                   July 1938


“Hello, may I talk to Tom alone for a few moments?” The man asked. Harry looked
up and smiled in amusement at the odd way the man was dressed.
“Of course sir, I’ll be in my room Tom,” Harry said, getting off of Tom’s floor
and dusting off the back of his trousers before walking out.
After the man left, Tom would not tell him anything about what the man said,
but had a look of extreme happiness and excitement on his face.
Harry felt a pit of worry settle in his stomach, this pit of worry proved to be
very true when a few weeks later Tom disappeared to buy school supplies and
finally told Harry that he had been accepted to a boarding school on full
scholarship in Scotland and would not be back except for summer holidays.
“I can read too!” Harry protested, “I can do math as well!”
“This is a school for special people Harry,” Tom said as he packed a large
trunk, “you wouldn’t understand.”
Harry wished he had never let that man talk to Tom.
                                   --------- 
                                   June 1939


When Tom finally came back the next summer he was in a foul mood, all he could
talk about was wanting to go back to the school, and he ignored Harry even more
than he had when they had first met. In fact, all Tom could do was scowl and
talk about how much better his school was. It was like Harry and Wool’s
Orphanage was nothing more than dirt on his shoe.
Of course, he still tolerated Harry’s presence, and sometimes even told Harry
tidbits of the school, although Harry could see Tom did not even tell him ten
percent of the whole story.
He found out that Tom’s family had probably gone to the school, and Tom was
probably very important and maybe soon he would not have to come back to the
Orphanage at all.
He kept mentioning his dad and how he was sure his dad was also special.
“If my mom were special like my dad, then she wouldn’t have died,” Tom had
informed him and Harry quietly thought to himself that no matter how special
anyone was, everyone had to die eventually.
In the end, Harry did not tell Tom how badly he had been bullied in Tom’s
absence, or how Mrs. Cole kept trying to catch him when he hid from families
looking to adopt, or how he had been studying and had even asked Harrison
Wilkes when he came over for some paper and pen, or how he was hurt that Tom
had not even written- not even on Christmas.
Soon it was time for Tom to leave again and Harry felt terrible as he realized
how happy Tom was to leave him again.
                                    ---------
                                   June 1940

Tom gritted his teeth as he got off the train after his second year at Hogwarts
and exited the platform with his trunk. Despite his flawless grades and amazing
reputation with all of the teachers at the school and the majority of the
students as well as the excuse about the declared war- he had been denied
permission to stay the school all summer.
Dumbledore had denied him. He hated the man and the way he played favorites
with the Gryffindors and mudbloods of the school. He hated how the man could
see right through him and had ordered him to spend yet another summer at the
filthy muggle orphanage with all of the muggles who had made him feel so
freakish when he had really been extraordinary. All of the muggles and- Harry.
Tom blinked as he saw Harry beaming brightly at him and waving at him next to
Mrs. Cole who looked even more haggard than normal.
He had forgotten about Harry.
His rage slightly lessened and he could feel the curdling sensation of guilt in
his gut but quickly shook it off. If Harry were special like him he would not
have had to abandon him.
                                    ---------
                                   July 1940
Tom was mildly surprised when Dumbledore entered his room with a little over
one month left of summer, and he foolishly hoped, if only for a second that he
was here to take Tom to Hogwarts and he had changed his mind. His hope froze
though as Dumbledore cleared his throat and asked
“Tom, may you leave the room? I need to speak with Harry here.”
Tom nodded his head as he stiffly left the room like Harry had, two years
prior.
Harry on the other hand, was ecstatic, his hard work had paid off! In fact,
just a few weeks before Tom came back he had shown Mrs. Cole his skills in
reading and writing and she had asked him to tutor some of the older children
at the orphanage!
“Do you know who I am Harry?” The man asked, sitting precariously on Harry’s
dingy bed.
“You’re the man from Tom’s school! The one he got a scholarship to! I’ve been
working really hard all year so I can go too! I can read and write very well
sir, you won’t regret it!” Harry said, beaming up at him.
Dumbledore was shocked- he was sure since Harry was another wizard that Tom
would be gleeful in showing Harry all that he had learned so perhaps he could
have a partner in torturing all the rest of the children.
“Harry…can you do things, especially when you’re upset? It would’ve started
when you were about three or so.” Dumbledore asked slowly. It was a few moments
before Harry answered, much less enthusiastically.
“I..uh, yes sir, I mean…I don’t know. I can make things move and one time when
I was being chased by the kids instead of climbing up the tree I just appeared
there. I don’t think I did it when I was three though, I can’t remember. Are
you going to take me to a government lab? Am I a mutant?” Harry ended with a
scared whisper.
“Of course not, my boy,” Dumbledore laughed, “The school Tom attends, it’s
called Hogwarts, a place to learn magic. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry, and you are a wizard…and I am Albus Dumbledore.”  
“Magic…” Harry trailed off, looking down at his hands. Unlike Riddle, Harry’s
expression was one of pure child amazement and excitement and Dumbledore found
himself quickly growing fond of Harry, “So that’s what Tom has been learning?
Magic? He can do things like me?”
“Yes,” Dumbledore affirmed, “Tom never told you?”
“No but I, I should have guessed,” Harry said, thinking of the Cave incident
with a slight shiver. Since then Mrs. Cole had not allowed him to go on the
trip at all. Suddenly Harry felt guilty, “And…I never told him about me
either…”
Dumbledore raised one eyebrow but did not prod any further, instead he went
through the motions, giving Harry a demonstration- at which Harry let out a
laugh and clapped his hands, told Harry about the rules about not doing magic
outside of the school and how muggles (the wizard’s world for non-magic people)
cannot know about magic whatsoever. Then he pulled a rather thick letter out
from his very colorful robes.
“Oh, one more thing,” Dumbledore said, holding the letter just slightly out of
Harry’s reach, “Your letter, unfortunately, does not have a middle or a last
name, a malfunction in the charm, I’m sure. Would you mind telling me them?”
Harry shook his head, “I’m sorry sir, but I don’t remember them…I uh, I was
found by the policemen a little over two years ago with amnesia and no one has
claimed me.”
“Ah, well then, I see little harm in creating a name for yourself,” Dumbledore
said, eyes twinkling as he winked at Harry. Harry grinned and thought about it
for a second.
“Can my middle name be Thomas and my last name be Wilson?” Harry thought, it
would be nice to pay tribute to two of his favorite people in his own subtle
way.
“Well, I can’t say anything, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Harry Thomas Wilson
fits right in at Hogwarts.” With that Dumbledore gave Harry his letter and left
the room and Harry collapsed onto his bed with a giddy smile on his face as he
looked at the envelope. To his delight, the rest of his name began to appear.
Harry Thomas Wilson
Third Bedroom, West Hall, Second Floor
Wool’s Orphanage, London
                                   --------- 
“I got in,” Harry said, walking alongside Wilkes. Wilkes raised his eyebrows at
the young boy who grinned back at him, “The school, the one I was studying for,
I got in…turns out I didn’t need to study as hard as I did.”
Harrison Wilkes shrugged and smiled.
“I’m going to go get supplies with Tom in London, they’re paying for those
too!”
They spent the next few minutes in a very comfortable silence.
“Harry Thomas Wilson,” Harry said suddenly, “The man who informed me of my
scholarship told me to come up with a full name, that’s mine.”
Wilkes ruffled Harry’s hair and cleared his throat, “It’s a fine name.”
                                    ---------
                                  August 1940

Tom had been angry at first that Harry had never told him that he could also do
magic but it soon disappeared. Now, they were currently at Diagon Alley. With
the rise of a Dark Lord and conflict in Germany, there were not nearly as many
people shopping as there normally would be, which was fine with Tom.
However, Harry’s face was filled with wonder as they walked through the people
in robes with shops stacked on top of one another. Tom had taken his list from
him and glanced over the needed materials, although he remembered them from his
own first year.
First they stopped by Gringott’s- which Tom explained was the Wizarding Bank
run by goblins. Apparently it was here that orphans picked up their Hogwarts
stipend for the year. When they were done, they both had a pouch with coins
inside. Harry marveled at how shiny the coins were.
Tom agreed to give Harry his old textbooks- and Harry in turn, used some of the
extra money to purchase both Tom and him new robes rather than the secondhand
ones that Tom had been purchasing.
Harry now walked out of Ollivander’s, holding his wand gently to his chest,
birch and vine wood with unicorn hair. He relished in the feeling of
completeness as he held his wand.
Harry looked at Tom who was busy looking through all the windows, searching for
an interesting shop to browse in and he could feel nothing but content.

 
                                   ---------
                                September 1940
When the day came to board the train and go to Hogwarts, Harry was practically
bursting with excitement, he had spent all day pestering Tom with questions,
questions that were left unanswered but it put no damper on Harry’s mood,
especially because he was used to it.
When he saw Tom walk through the brick wall, he let out an audible gasp, before
pushing his cart and running toward the wall full speed.
Tom and he shared a compartment in relative silence, with Harry sometimes
talking to Tom, Tom sometimes answering but mostly not, and Harry reading his
textbooks.
He had gone over most of them multiple times, each time getting more and more
excited at the prospect of magic and the fact that he wasn’t alone.
After what was supposedly a long ride, but Harry did not notice at all, Tom
looked at him and said, “We’ll be arriving shortly, you should change.”
“Er, right,” Harry said, gathering a change of robes and opening the
compartment to find the restroom to change.
When he came back, Tom was also changed, probably taking advantage of Harry not
being there and Harry observed his green and silver tie.
“I knew you’d be in Slytherin,” Harry commented.
“If you wish to continue our friendship,” Tom said, while adjusting his tie a
bit, “You better be in Slytherin too.” With that, Tom reached up and took down
his trunk.
Harry felt his stomach drop, because while he had entertained the idea of being
in the same House as Tom, he had read up on them and knew he was definitely not
ambitious and cunning. Or Pureblooded. But then again, Tom wasn’t Pureblooded,
so maybe it did not matter?  
Meanwhile Tom smirked to himself, the closer Harry was, the more he could use
him to his advantage.
                                    ---------

“Wilson, Harry,” Albus Dumbledore called up, smiling as the boy nervously
stepped up to the stool. Harry sat down and Albus placed the hat on his head.
“Hm, interesting character here.”
“Please, Slytherin, please, please, please.” Harry thought to himself with his
fingers crossed.
“Slytherin? With the loyalty you show that boy, you’d be a perfect fit for
Hufflepuff,” The hat commented, “In Slytherin you’d be miserable, I can see it
all here, in your head you know. They don’t take too kindly to Muggleborns
there, you’d be an outcast.”
 “I don’t care, I’ve been an outcast before. I really want to be in Slytherin,
please.” Harry then began to think of all the times he had been bullied before,
he could take it, he didn’t mind.
“Maybe in a different life kid, but you do have guts,” with that the Sorting
Hat then called out, “GRYFFINDOR!”
Harry let out a sigh and a shrug, he had tried, but as the table with the red
and gold banner burst out in cheers and applause he smiled.
                                    ---------
“You’ve been in a foul mood all night Riddle,” Avery commented, stretching out
on his bed, “What happened?”
Tom glared at Avery but said nothing. He instead wondered what Harry was doing
right now. He probably was laughing and joking with the lions. Not even
thinking about Tom.
Tom let out a long breath to calm himself down, in Hogwarts he usually didn’t
lose control like that, in fact, he normally didn’t lose control at all unless
he wanted to.
He didn’t particularly need Harry in Slytherin, he reasoned. He didn’t need
Harry at all. There were so many new things to learn this school year. So many
curses to research. Maybe he could transfigure a cup into a rabbit and torture
it and pretend it was Billy Stubb’s rabbit.
                                    ---------

Harry meanwhile, was getting to know all of his dorm-mates. There was Edward
McLaggen, Ignatius Prewett, Owen Hornby, and a very large boy named Hagrid.
Harry immediately took a liking to Ignatius Prewett, who was a pureblooded red-
head with a mischievous grin, the two got along quite well.
He was, apparently, the only muggleborn sorted into Gryffindor that year, a
fact which all of them seemed to be immensely interested in, they constantly
asked him about things in the Muggle world. When the topic came to his early
childhood, Harry shrugged and told them of his amnesia.
“Wha’- wha’s a meesha?” Hagrid asked, face screwed up.
“It’s when you lose your memory,” Harry informed them, “I was apparently found
in London one day wandering around- not even knowing my own name. The police
took me in, then dropped me off at Wool’s Orphanage where I’ve been ever
since.”
“Oh so it’s kind of like being Obliviated!” McLaggen concluded, causing the
other boys to ‘aah’ in understanding.
When everyone had said goodnight, Harry stared at the ceiling, hoping Tom
wasn’t too angry with him.
                                    ---------
                                   June 1941
Harry and Tom looked around at the destruction caused by what people were
calling the Blitz. Bombings for over seventy days, people said. So many people
dead. Tom observed with indifference, the Muggle world was beneath him now.
However, Harry was very visibly upset.  
Harry knew that some of the fellow muggleborns at Hogwarts didn’t have a home
to go back to anymore.
Harry was relieved to find that Wool’s Orphanage was still standing while Tom
sneered. Being one of the few buildings standing, there were even more children
there. Food would be scarce that summer, and Tom plotted on who he would be
stealing food from.
The day after they came back, Harry was approached by Mrs. Cole who took him
out of the orphanage for a few hours.
When they came back, Harry was crying and clutching a badge to his chest.
Apparently, Harrison Wilkes had been lucky that he had been properly
identified, so many had not been.
Tom found it very annoying that Harry cried so much that summer, but, at least
he didn’t look ugly while doing it.
                                    ---------
                                 December 1941
“Happy Birthday Tom!” Harry said, shoving a very haphazardly wrapped present
into his friend’s hands. Tom stared down at the present.
“You already got me a Christmas present, you should’ve saved your money,” Tom
said, raising one eyebrow.
“It’s because you keep giving me your textbooks that I even have enough money
to buy you something Tom, so just humor me.” Harry said.
Tom took off the wrapping and was surprised to see a brown leather-bound diary
with his name written on it. “A diary?”
“Yeah, well I know you think a lot of things that you don’t tell anyone, not
even me, so I figure you need a place to put all of those thoughts,” Harry
shrugged, “Also, I know you don’t like your name, but I think it’s a pretty
great name, so I put that on there too.”
Tom did not thank Harry, but he kept the diary.
                                    ---------
                                 January 1942
His classmates were talking about sex, again. Or perhaps it was who they wanted
to have sex with, either way Tom was content to lean back and do his homework.
They long ago stopped asking Tom for his input on conversations such as this,
as he never really had anything to say.
The war had not bothered nor shaken Slytherin house very much- in fact, most of
them viewed the war in a pretty positive light, eradication of the muggles and
misery of the muggleborns they were all for- and Tom was inclined to agree with
them. But when he thought of how Harry had cried that summer he frowned,
perhaps there was a better way to go about it?
“That second year Wilson, I would take him to bed in a heartbeat.”
“The Gryffindor?”
“You disgust me, Nott- a muggleborn?”
“It’s his face, it’s so pretty.” Nott said, letting out a lewd moan. Which
caused everyone around to roll their eyes.
“Don’t you all have something better to do in your time?” Tom snapped out, his
eyes narrowed, causing the boys to all jump, they had never heard Tom speak
with such venom. He was usually so charming that he had most of the school
eating out of his palm.
“See? Riddle agrees, no one should lay with such filth, no matter how pretty.”
That night, under very heavy privacy charms, Tom came into his hand thinking
that Harry was purer and worthier than all of them.
                                    ---------
                                   May 1942
It was the end of the year and Harry was watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team
practice along with Ignatius who was making amusing commentary.
When the team was done, Ignatius went back to the castle right away, while
Harry stayed out to enjoy the outdoors for just a few more minutes.  Lying down
he let out a contented sigh as he stared out at the sky.
“Did you enjoy watching our practice?” A voice asked, and Harry rocketed up and
blinked in shock at seeing the team’s Seeker grinning down at him.
“Yeah,” Harry replied back, enthusiastically, “You guys are brilliant!”
“Why don’t you try out? We can always use more Reserve players!”
“I would, but I suck at flying, it’s one of those things I admire because I
cannot do it.”
The boy laughed and stuck out his hand for Harry to take, “I’m Charlus, Charlus
Potter.”
“I’m Harry Wilson.”
                                    ---------
                                   June 1942
The situation at Wool’s was even worse, with declining support and money and
even more children and no adoptions happening, the orphanage was cramped. Harry
had moved back in with Tom since anyone else who was placed there almost
immediately had an accident of some kind.
Currently everyone in the orphanage was sleeping- or was supposed to. Tom could
hear Harry shuffling around on the floor, tossing and turning.
“Can you stop?” Tom hissed out at him.
The shuffling stopped, followed by a whispered, “Sorry, Tom. Can’t sleep.”
“Why not?”
“I, I kind of got used to sleeping on a bed, but it’s okay, I can-“
“Get up here,” Tom ordered.
“Tom?”
“You can share my bed with me, so I can get some damned sleep.”
“O-okay, thank you.”
As Harry fell asleep, Tom allowed himself to lean in closer to Harry and drag
his fingers across Harry’s pale arm.
“His skin is soft,” Tom thought, “and mine.”
                                    ---------
                                 October 1942
Tom, in a rare display of frustration, pushed the book aside. For weeks he had
been looking into his heritage, looking for any sign of his father.
“Did you ever think that maybe, your mother was the one that was magical and
not your father?” Harry suggested, closing the book he was looking at and
opening another one entitled Wizarding Family Traits.
Tom growled, “What’s the point of being better than that filth if you die
giving birth?”
The same thought that had crossed Harry’s mind in previous years popped up
again, only this time he spoke it out loud, “No one can escape death Tom, not
even magical people.”
Tom snarled, his eyes dangerous, “I will.”
Harry sighed, used to Tom’s temper, and went back to reading.
Minutes later, Harry pulled Tom out of his brooding by slamming the book he was
reading in front of Tom.
Tom’s face lit up.
He was Slytherin.
                                    ---------
                                 December 1942
Harry sighed, he had hardly seen Tom at all during the break. In fact, after
helping Tom with his little genealogy project back in the fall, he had hardly
seen him at all.
He did notice that every Slytherin was now hanging off of Tom’s arms more so
than they already had before due to his intelligence and magical power.
Well, at least the Quidditch pitch looked pretty. The snow covered all the
grass and the warm lights of Hogwarts cast a nice glow over the snow. Looking
around and seeing no one, Harry let himself fall into the snow and began to
make a snow angel.
“Mind if I join you?” A voice asked and Harry looked up to see Charlus Potter
grinning at him.
“You sure the great pureblooded Seeker Charlus Potter can lower himself to
making a snow angel with me?” Harry asked snickering. Harry and Charlus had
become quite good friends just over the past week when Charlus stayed over
winter break in order to get a head start on some of his work.
Charlus jokingly also looked around to see if anyone was there and whispered,
“I think I can spare a few moments.”
As Charlus landed in the snow himself and began to make a snow angel, Harry
sputtered as the snow Charlus pushed aside landed directly on his face.
“You arse!” Harry laughed, gathering the snow off of his face and dumping it on
top of Charlus’ face.
“Oi!” Charlus said, “I grace you with my presence and you treat me like this?
Wait until my father hears about this!” With that he lunged at Harry, prompting
a wrestling match. Harry fought valiantly but was soon pinned under the heavier
boy.
“Alright, I give, I give!” Harry yelled laughing.
“Good, I think it’s time for my winning prize then,” Charlus said smugly.
“What do you want?” Harry asked in amusement, lightly propping himself up on
his elbows, “Perhaps an old hand-me-down scarf? I have a few of-“
He was silenced by Charlus’ lips on his.
The only thought on Harry’s mind was that he hadn’t been able to tell Tom happy
birthday.  
                                   --------- 
                                 February 1943
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Harry whispered as he wrapped his arms around Charlus’
midsection. The two had been meeting up at Hogsmeade every weekend. Their
relationship was secret for now, but only until Charlus could speak to his
parents about it over Easter holidays. He had laughed quite hard when Harry had
asked if they would be okay with Charlus being with another boy. Worrying about
sexual orientation, race, or religion was below wizards.
“Happy Valentine’s Day Harry,” Charlus said, ducking his head down to press his
lips lightly to Harry’s. He broke away from the kiss in order to give Harry a
small package, “For you.”
Harry opened it and pulled out the object, it looked a lot like a muggle
spinning top, “Aah what’s this?”
Charlus smirked as he buried his face in Harry’s hair, “I sometimes forget
you’re a muggleborn with how brilliant you are, this is a Sneakoscope. It will
light up, spin, and whistle if someone is doing something untrustworthy near
you. With all of the recent attacks on muggleborns, it would make me feel
better if you had one on you.”
“Charlus,” Harry swallowed, he wanted to tell Charlus that he had feeling he
knew exactly who was behind the attacks and if it was who he thought it was he
wouldn’t have to worry about anything, but he bit his tongue, “thank you.”
                                    ---------
                                  April 1943
“Harry,” Charlus whispered in his ear, making Harry jump and Charlus chuckle.
They were meeting in an empty classroom now, Hogsmeade trips had been taken
away with the attacks still ongoing.
“Charlus,” Harry said smiling at him, “Welcome back, how was your Easter?”
“It was fine,” Charlus said, “boring without you. I told my parents by the
way.”
“Yeah? How’d it go?”
“Fine,” Charlus said, a grin overtaking his face, “they want to meet you over
the summer.”
“What?!”
                                    ---------
                                   June 1943
“Tom, this is murder!” Harry hissed, he had finally cornered Tom alone after
hearing the news of Myrtle’s death. The Ministry was due to arrive at the
school that evening to deliver the body to her parents, “This isn’t just taking
revenge on the bullies, this isn’t right.”
“What makes you think I have anything to do with this?” Tom hissed.
“Please, I know you Tom,” Harry said, “I know it’s you, I may not know exactly
how, but I know it is you, this has your fingerprints all over it.”
“And what of it? Did you care for that filthy little mudblood?” Tom taunted,
eyes alight in a way that made Harry uneasy for the first time in a very long
time.
“What if they find out, you know Dumbledore suspects you, he even asked me if I
knew anything,” Harry said, “they’ll take you away from Hogwarts, from Wool’s!
What if I can’t see you again?”
Tom looked at Harry oddly.
“What do you think I should do then?”
Harry made a whining noise at the back of his throat, “I don’t know, just don’t
get caught!”
                                    ---------
                                   July 1943
“So you’re still mad at me for framing that oaf.” Tom stated, it was getting
ridiculous, it had been nearly a month and Harry had hardly said a word to him,
“You told me not to get caught, and you were the one who told me about Hagrid’s
fascination with creatures.”
Harry just glared at Tom.
Tom got close to Harry and pinned him against the wall, whispering in his ear,
“Would it have been better had it been someone you didn’t know hmm? Would that
have made it morally okay in your book or would you still be throwing this
temper tantrum?”
Harry pushed Tom away from him harshly and turned his head away.
“Fine,” Tom said, anger filling him, he fiddled in his pockets and pulled out
the police badge he had slipped there just that morning. When Harry saw it his
eyes widened as he immediately reached for it but Tom kept it out of his reach,
“I wonder what would happen if I were to burn this with magic, or maybe I could
shatter it.”
“No,” Harry whispered, “give it back.”
“Or maybe I can destroy it in a muggle way, fitting for a filthy muggle cop,”
with that Tom threw the badge on the ground and put his foot directly on top of
it.
“No! Don’t please Tom, please don’t!” Harry was screaming now, as he clawed at
Tom’s shoe trying to remove it from the badge.
Tom wrapped long fingers around Harry’s neck and tilted Harry’s chin so Harry
was looking at him.
“Do you forgive me, friend?”
“Yes, yes, please, give it back to me,” Harry said and he cried in relief as
Tom’s foot moved so he could pick up the badge.
“Good.”
                                    ---------
                                  August 1943
“Charlus!” Harry greeted as he stumbled into the other boy’s arms. The Knight
Bus had not done any favors from him, and he usually wasn’t the most graceful
person either.
“Are you okay there?” Charlus asked, his eyes showing his amusement.
“I’m fine,” Harry said, gathering himself.
“So is this him?” A feminine voice asked and for the first time Harry looked
behind Charlus to see two beautiful and imposing figures.
“Yes mother,” Charlus answered, grinning, “Mom, dad, meet Harry Thomas Wilson.”
Harry bowed to both of them before shaking their hands.
“How darling!” His mother commented, ushering the two inside, “Come on, I have
some snacks prepared for you both.”
Charlus’ parents were polite and when Charlus and Harry excused themselves to
Charlus’ room, Charlus’ dad winked at them and shouted
“Don’t do anything that will make your mother blush!”
“They loved you!” Charlus said, grinning, “I knew they would.”
“I think the feeling is mutual then,” Harry said, “They’re great.”
“I’m glad you like them,” Charlus murmured, rubbing Harry’s shoulders, leaning
in he whispered, “Can I kiss you?”
Harry tilted his face up and nodded. Charlus captured his lips in a sweet kiss
and pulled Harry to his bed, setting him down on the on the soft sheets. Harry
responded positively, wrapping his arms around Charlus’ neck.
Charlus broke the kiss and gently removed his own shirt, making Harry blush at
the other’s physique. They continued until Harry’s shirt was gone too and their
hands began to dip just below the waistband of each other’s pants.
Harry pulled away then, face flushed as he stuttered, “I- Charlus it’s my- I
don’t know if I can-“
Charlus smiled and shushed Harry, “It’s okay Harry. I am more than willing to
wait.” He must’ve noticed Harry’s guilty gaze because he added, “When we do it
will be wonderful and ten times better than what might have happened here
because we will love each other.”
                                    ---------
Harry had been gone for a whole day now, Mrs. Cole said Harry had gotten her
permission to go to a friend’s house. Tom sneered, wondering why Harry had felt
the need to leave him out of his little plans.
Tom flipped through the diary Harry had gotten him, he had not written in it.
But, with Harry gone he could try something, something he had only seen in
whispers of books on the library bookshelves.
When Harry returned he found Tom in somewhat of a stupor with a manic look in
his eyes.
“I did it Harry,” Tom said, upon seeing the boy walk in.
“You did what?” Harry asked warily.
Tom got up and stalked towards Harry, and pressed his body against Harry’s,
using Dark magic always gave him such a rush. He could have anything he wanted
because he was powerful enough, anything.
“Tom, are you okay?” Harry pressed his hand against Tom’s forehead to check for
a fever.
Tom chuckled and pressed his face against Harry’s next, pressing kisses to the
flesh that was exposed by a slightly too large shirt, “You’re pretty.” He kept
pushing Harry until Harry fell on their shared cot, he climbed on top of Harry.
“Tom, Tom stop.” Harry said pressing his hands against Tom’s chest.
“Why?” Tom said, seeming to snap to perfect clarity, eyes narrowed.
“I-“ Harry hesitated before spilling it out, “I have someone.”
Tom walked out of their room and slammed the door.
He did not come back- and when Harry got too tired to wait up for him, he
drifted to sleep.
That night Harry woke to Tom’s hands everywhere and his body on top of his.
Still half asleep and not quite sure what was happening he let out a little
moan. This seemed to increase Tom’s attentions. He felt lips and teeth on his
neck and was suddenly aware that his shirt was gone and his pants were halfway
down his legs.
As Harry came to full clarity he began to push on Tom’s shoulders, trying to
wiggle free.
“Don’t.” Tom warned, pushing Harry down further into the scratchy, thin
mattress. Tom slipped his boxers down to join his pants and all Harry could
feel were touches that burned and the tears running down his face.
Tom disregarded him as he wrapped a hand experimentally around his penis and
gave a few pumps. Harry hated himself for responding.
He felt Tom lift his legs and hands exploring there too.
When Tom eventually entered him, harshly, roughly, Harry knew there was no
love. There was only possession and dominance. The tears stopped, and Harry lay
there, staring at the ceiling and as Tom filled him so did shame. When Tom
finally fell asleep next to Harry, so sure Harry would do nothing Harry sat
wondering why he could hate himself and as he looked at the boy who had
violated him he could only find forgiveness.
                                    ---------
                                September 1943
“I’m sorry Charlus.” Harry managed to choke out after all was said and done.
Charlus was left standing there confused and hurt. Charlus had asked why and
Harry couldn’t answer. How could he say his closest friend raped him? But it
was all okay because Harry loved Tom and had already forgiven him, but didn’t
know if he could forgive himself ever.
Harry walked away and hid where no one could find him.
But Tom could always find him.
Harry curled in on himself, trying to hide himself from Tom’s eyes, forgiven
but not forgotten like the rest of them all.
“Don’t look at me,” Harry thought.
Tom kissed him and left.  
                                    ---------
                                 January 1944
“I love you.” Harry whispered when he thought Tom was not paying attention. He
hoped that saying it out loud might make him feel better. Tom rarely listened
to him anyway, Harry reasoned.
He was right. Tom did not hear him.
It did not make him feel any better.
                                    ---------
                                   June 1944
It continued that summer. It came to a point where Tom would just need to press
his hands against Harry in a certain way and Harry knew what was to come.
Harry hated himself for settling for this. Loving a boy who would never love
him back, because he couldn’t. Because he was a dark boy filled with only hate
and possession who would probably one day be consumed by it.
Harry spread his legs more as Tom continued to pump into him, showering him
with half-hearted praises as he left bruises on his skin.
Harry let his mind wander to Charlus, strong Charlus. Charlus would not have
settled, Charlus could have loved Harry. Maybe he let this happen because Tom
was the only one he could ever remember loving, maybe if he had remembered
loving his mother or father he would be stronger. Harry must have let his mind
wander for too long because he felt a hand tighten around his throat.
Harry’s eyes focused and they found Tom watching his face, dark eyes swirling.
But he could never have loved Charlus.
Maybe it was better this way.
                                    ---------
                                  August 1944
“I love you.”
This time Tom heard it, Harry knew Tom heard it. Tom didn’t say anything. That
was okay, Harry could work with nothing.
“I think I’ve loved you ever since we were little,” Harry said, “I could never
stay away. Even after you tried to drown me.”
Tom still said nothing.
Harry closed his eyes.
“Every time you hurt me I think ‘this is it, this is when I stop loving him’,
but I can’t.”
The crickets outside had never seemed so loud.
                                    ---------
                                 December 1944
This time it was in Tom’s secret room, the one where you could think of
something and the room you needed appeared in front of you.
This room was bare, with only a bed in it. There was not even anything on the
ceiling to distract Harry. Harry knew that Tom hated it when he was distracted.
Harry closed his eyes as he blocked out everything, thinking of something
mundane, something safe. Dumbledore had been getting suspicious because of
Harry, he had given Harry sad understanding eyes and asked him if he had
anything to tell him.
Harry had said no sir and smiled and then let The Devil sink his claws into his
back.
“Harry, look at me,” Tom stressed, “Don’t you love me?”
Harry’s eyes snapped open, once again fully aware of the intrusion in his body
and the hands and the teeth. As green eyes took in Tom’s malicious smirk he
thought Tom had never been so cruel.
                                    ---------
                                   June 1945
Dumbledore had defeated Gellert Grindelwald, it was supposedly the greatest
duel in all of history between two wizards.
When Tom learned the news Harry knew immediately that Tom was fearful. Next to
death, Dumbledore was his worst fear.
He wondered what his third worst fear was.
Tom knew what his third fear was, it was laying under him right now, staring up
at him with big green eyes as if they saw every single terrible evil deed
(though he hadn’t told Harry about his father) he had ever done and they
accepted him for it.
It was what had brought him back to Wool’s again rather than going straight to
Albania as planned. It was the thing that could probably make him move
mountains if he asked. The only thing that he cared about possessing perhaps
just as much as immortality.
It was Harry. His only friend.
                                    ---------
                                September 1945
Tom was in Albania and Harry was in Hogwarts. Harry felt a weight lift off of
his shoulders without Tom there watching him. It was almost as if he didn’t
need to worry about loving Tom. So he threw himself into his studies and
distracted himself with his friends.
He began to visit Hagrid in the hut. Together they tried to cook- but their
cakes and biscuits would always come out vaguely rock-like. Harry would eat
them anyway.
He even tried flying again, though it was just as disastrous as the first time
he had tried. He may have even tried to contact Charlus again if Charlus hadn’t
already graduated and entered a betrothal contract with Dorea Black.
When he heard the portraits whispering of handsome young Tom Riddle pleading
Headmaster Dippet right after he graduated for the Defense Against the Dark
Arts position that had opened up for at least two years only to be turned down
Harry didn’t allow himself the luxury of hope.
                                    ---------
                                   June 1946
When he got to Wool’s, Harry did not see Tom, nor did he get any letters. It
was like Tom’s first two years of Hogwarts all over again, however, at least
the war was over now- and people were starting to adopt- some were even going
back to family.
Harry got himself a part-time job to help the Orphanage down at the police
station.
When Harry walked in the station to start his job on the first day and someone
recognized him and said, “Look it’s Wilkes’ boy!” Harry felt good about himself
for the first time in years.
He wondered if this is what recovery felt like.
Then Tom visited and he wondered if that was what relapse felt like.
                                    ---------
                                September 1946
Harry entered his last year of Hogwarts trying to hold his head held high. He
had only seen Tom a few times during the summer, as Tom had taken up a position
at Borgin and Burke’s after turning down a Ministry offer.
Tom had been different though, almost as if he wasn’t all quite there. To
everyone else he probably appeared completely fine, but to Harry, who knew
Tom’s soul better than anyone knew something had happened and was probably
still happening. It unsettled him. Tom could hurt Harry and twist him but Harry
could not allow Tom to hurt and twist himself.
Even if it was what Tom had been wanting his whole life.
                                   ---------
                                 December 1946
Tom got up, casting various cleaning charms on himself (but not on Harry, but
that was okay because Harry doubted he could be cleaned by one anyway). Harry
looked at him, it was almost like Tom wasn’t all there.
Why couldn’t anyone else see it? It was like staring at a porcelain plate that
had been broken but then glued back together poorly.
Tom began to excitedly tell him about all the dark artifacts he came across at
Borgin and Burkes. None of them were worthy, apparently.
“Worthy of what?” Harry had asked then.
Tom did not answer him and instead began to leave. He tended to leave whenever
Harry disappointed him. As Tom opened the door to walk out of their rented inn
room, Harry stopped him.
“Happy Birthday Tom,” Harry said.
Tom looked as though he had forgotten his own birthday himself, but Harry
brushed it off.
Who didn’t know when their own birthday was, after all?
                                    ---------
                                   June 1947
Harry was unpacking his bags into a small room at the Leaky Cauldron. He,
unlike Tom, had not been offered a job, so he would need to go job hunting soon
enough.
He heard a crack of Apparition and then a knock outside his room door and he
knew who it was. He opened the door for Tom who sneered at his room briefly.
Tom was in a good mood and Harry wondered what he had done this time.
Tom told him that soon he would be going to Ministry and asking if the position
was still available, he had quit his job at Borgin and Burkes. He would then
proceed to climb up to the top before changing the world.
While it all sounded like something Tom would say, Harry couldn’t help but feel
like this was an imposter standing in Tom’s skin.
Tom then pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top of him, a ritual Harry was
very familiar with. Harry tried his best to drift away but Tom always brought
him back.
“Say my name Harry,” Tom whispered.
“Tom,” Harry replied back dutifully only to be slapped across the face.
“No, not Tom,” Tom bent down to whisper into Harry’s ear, “Lord Voldemort.”
When Tom was done he collapsed next to Harry, breathing heavily.
“Ah, so it isn’t Tom after all,” Harry thought, surprisingly without any
emotion.
“We’ll need to change your name too,” Lord Voldemort said, folding his arms
behind his head, “Harry Thomas Wilson is a pitifully common name.”
“It’s a fine name,” Harry whispered back. Lord Voldemort snorted and went to
sleep.
Harry looked at the police badge on the bedside table and at the man who wasn’t
Tom. Then, Harry resolved to save Tom from Lord Voldemort.
As Harry’s hands closed around Lord Voldemort’s throat he didn’t hesitate.
He didn’t love Lord Voldemort after all.
                                    ---------

Lord Voldemort stared at Harry Wilson while rubbing his neck that was sure to
be bruised. The habit of sleeping with his wand had saved him. Well, at least
the boy had fulfilled some purpose, Lord Voldemort thought. He brought out the
two treasures, and split his soul again.
Lord Voldemort got dressed and wondered about going to Ministry today, but as
he glanced at the body on the ground for some reason he felt sick.
No Ministry then, he would leave, leave the country. Get the experience Dippet
talked about and apply to the Defense position again. Harry would like that.
Lord Voldemort quickly disposed of Harry’s belongings and looked down at the
boy before incinerating his body.
It was a shame.
Harry Thomas Wilson would’ve made a worthy Horcrux.
                                    ---------
                                   June 1980
Lily rubbed a hand across her belly, feeling the child within kick
energetically. She rolled her eyes and figured that this boy would probably be
just like his father. When she told James this he let out a laugh and suggested
that they name the boy James Jr.
“Definitely not,” Lily said, but acquiesced when she saw her husband’s
downtrodden face, “James can be his middle name though.”
James perked up and laid his head on his wife’s belly.
“How about Harry then? My father was always fond of that name. Told me he would
have named me Harry if it hadn’t had been for mum.”
“Harry James Potter?” Lily said out loud, testing it, thinking about holding a
little boy and calling him Harry and she smiled, “It’s a fine name.”
                                   ---------
                                 October 1981
He had tried to spare her, stupid girl. His servant would understand however,
that his little mudblood fascination had to die. When he had heard that one of
the boy’s born to fit the prophecy would be a Potter, he had been delighted.
Charlus Potter and Dorea Potter had died of a sudden bout of mid-age dragon pox
that no one had seen coming just last summer.
Lord Voldemort approached the crib.
Harry Potter- the boy said to have the power to defeat him. The infant looked
at him calmly with familiar green eyes and Lord Voldemort for the first time in
a long time hesitated. Lord Voldemort then laughed, remembering moments when
they were Tom Riddle and Harry Wilson.
“Come back to haunt me, have you?”
The infant didn’t respond.
Harry Wilson hadn’t spoken much towards the end either. Lord Voldemort raised
his wand.
“Avada Kedavra.”
End Notes
     Thank you for getting through my first story on here.
     It was meant to only be kind of a collection of drabbles- but then
     everything ran away from me. A few notes:
     1) This story was actually the result of a bunch of ideas thrown at
     me by friends when I told them I had no ideas on what I wanted to
     write (among them were such beautiful joke prompts like 'Harry dates
     his grandpa'). I took all of them as seriously as I could.
     2) I tried to stick to the original timeline of when Tom did things
     as best as I could remember, but some things got smushed together in
     order to make the life of Harry Wilson's fit.
     3) I had no idea when the Hogwarts school year ended for summer, so I
     made it in late June.
     4) Harry's wand was not his holly and phoenix feather wand because he
     was not yet Harry Potter nor did he have the horcrux in him yet, plus
     he's not quite the same as his later reincarnation. (I only briefly
     mentioned the wand, it was going to have a larger part in the story,
     but I took it out- but if you want an explanation here it is)
     that is all.
     Is this even open for a sequel who knows
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