Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

1. What difference does it make by The Smiths
   
   
2. Fiction (dreams and digital) by orgy
3. blue Monday by New Order
4. stitches by orgy
5. all the same by orgy
6. Muv your dolly by xp8
7. like a killer by Scarling
8. Lucretia my reflection by Sisters Of Mercy
9. going under by evanescence
10. hurts like hell by Fleurie
11. reptile by the church
12. damn I wish I was your lover by Sophie B. Hawkins
13. human by Christina Perri

Cover: 

Picture From chapter "Legilimency" 

Chapter Text

It was a bright, warm, sunny day, one of the first of the summer, so beautiful that the staff of the orphanage cancelled all lessons, and allowed the children to spend the day outdoors, swinging, skipping rope, and playing games of hide and seek. They were all so thrilled with this rare treat that neither student nor staff noticed that one of their number was missing. Little Lexi Monroe, a tiny sliver of a girl with stringy black hair and large brown eyes that took up most of her little face had snuck back inside. She didn’t care much for playing with the other children. She was shy and didn’t know them well, having only been at this orphanage for a few weeks. But getting to know them would’ve been pointless anyway. In her experience, other orphans across the country were far more likely to taunt and bully an outsider than they were to befriend her, and on the rare occasion someone would try to be friendly, it didn’t do any good. They’d turn on her once they figured out what she was really like, and no one could stop her from being shoved out to yet another orphanage, the previous one wanting nothing to do with a child such as her once “it” happened. And it always happened.

Today though, she couldn’t be bothered by that. It was merely her lot in life. Nothing to be done about it. Today, she had simpler pleasures in mind. A few nights ago, an older boy had shown up at dinner. He’d been allowed to sit alone at a separate table from the other children and wasn’t scolded at all by the matrons for doing so as she had been when she attempted the same. At night, instead of heading to the boy’s ward to the left when she turned towards the girls ward to the right, he continued down the corridor, to an area she had been told was off limits to the students. She was curious by nature, so even though she didn’t intend to talk to the boy, she did want to know where he was going. That night, when everyone was asleep, she had snuck out of the girl’s ward, and down the hall in the direction the older boy had disappeared. Silently, she’d peeped through each keyhole, finding no sign of the boy, until finally at the last one, there he was, still awake, standing at a wardrobe, pulling down a box, and inside the box? Sweets. It had to be. All orphans hoarded treats when they had the chance, and this older boy with his own room was sure to have loads. She hadn’t gotten to see for sure that night though as the boy had whipped around, as if he’d heard something (though she was quite sure she had been completely silent,) and quicker than a mouse she took to the shadows and made her way back to her bed. The past couple of nights she’d lain awake, stomach grumbling, dreaming of what sort of sweets the older boy kept in the box, but she hadn’t dared to go back.

Until now. Everyone else was outside so this was her chance. Slip in, grab the box, open it, stuff her pockets, and scamper out. She’d enjoy the treats alone, under a bed perhaps, and the boy, the staff, no one would ever know it was her. Her mouth watered in anticipation of chocolate or peppermint or if she was very lucky, a lolly. It had been far too long since she’d managed a lolly. She made it to the boy’s room, where the door was locked. Not a problem. She’d expected as much. She pulled the hairpin she’d taken from one of the older girls out of her pocket and used it to pick the simple lock. The room was empty as she had expected. She made her way to the wardrobe, dragging over a chair from the nearby desk in order to reach the high shelf. She opened the wardrobe, climbed up, reached for the box and …. The chair suddenly slid away, across the room, and the little girl’s body was thrown backwards, slamming hard to the ground.

“What are you doing in my room?” An acidic voice hissed in a cold whisper. Lexi looked up to see the dark haired older boy standing over her, cold eyes flashing with anger. “Everyone knows better than to come in here.”

“I- I’m sorry” the girl muttered.

“In my wardrobe even. Why?” Something about his tone terrified her. This wasn’t her first time getting caught pilfering someone else’s sweets. Normally she could lie her way out of it. But something was different here and she didn’t know why but she felt truly in danger. The pounding of her heart was echoing in her ears.

“I said I’m sorry,” she whined. The boy smirked cruelly, relishing the younger child’s fear.

“You will be,” he jeered. In reality, Tom Riddle knew he couldn’t do much to hurt the girl. He couldn’t use his wand to perform magic out of school, and if he hurt her too much, someone would find out, and it’d get back to Hogwarts. That wretchedly nosy transfiguration teacher, Dumbledore, would be sure to find out and cause trouble for him. He didn’t need that … But he could frighten her as he wished. Nothing anyone could do about that. He shut and locked the door, then turned back to the girl with a predatory hunger. It was then that she screamed. Squinting her eyes tightly shut, she screeched, and the boy’s body was pushed away from her, slamming into the door, while simultaneously, the lightbulb burst, spraying them both with glass shards. Tom sat there at the door, as a mixture of emotions played across his face in rapid succession. First, anger, for the briefest of moments shock, then curiosity. The girl was obviously a witch. Was she a muggleborn? Or perhaps a half blood like him. Fair potential to perform a stunt like that with no formal training. She didn’t look old enough for Hogwarts yet. But maybe she could be useful. At the very least perhaps having another wizard around could make the summers he was forced to spend at this bleak, boring muggle orphanage slightly more interesting. “I’m sorry. I didn’t-” The child repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked now more terrified than before. “I didn’t mean to. I never mean to- Please don’t tell-” hardly able to form a sentence she pleaded with her eyes.

The Slytherin boy smelled blood. This child that had been so terrified of him moments ago was now far more terrified that he might tell someone what she had done. She couldn’t control her magic then. Probably didn’t understand what it was, and it had likely caused her trouble with the muggles who’d seen it before. Tom pasted a smile on his face and picked the child up, placing her on his bed, speaking in soothing tones, the perfect imitation of a loving older brother. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. And I’m not angry. I was just surprised to see someone in my room. That’s all. Are you alright?” The girl nodded, narrowing her large eyes a bit as she stared at him cautiously, but her posture became a little less ridged, and her breathing softer. He sat down next to her and she didn’t recoil. “If you can do things like that, you’re special. Like me. Tell me, could your parents also do such things?” He smiled his encouragement, gently tucking a stray hair behind her ear. She siddled away but remained close on the bed, bit her lip pensively, then responded , swinging her feet as she spoke.

“ Don’t know actually. Been in orphanages ever since I can remember.” Her voice was just above a whisper. Tom flashed his handsomest full tooth smile. “That’s something else we have in common then. My mother died when I was born. I lived only in this orphanage for many years before I knew what a wizard or a witch was.”

“A witch,” the girl repeated, testing the word on her tongue. She looked up at him curiously. “Do witches write in funny letters?” “Funny letters?” Tom prodded. The girl explained about the two letters that had been found with her as an infant on the steps of the orphanage in Kent. One was a simple letter giving her first name, and explaining that her mother was too young for a baby and couldn’t keep her. Tom cared nothing about this letter but listened indulgently, encouraging the younger child to continue. The other letter was of far more interest. She described a worn piece of parchment with deep crimson ink that never faded, no matter how many times she’d forgotten to take it out of her dress pocket on laundry day, or how many times she’d stuffed it in the bottom of the paper sacks they’d given her to place her belongings in each time she was shipped off to a different orphanage. The parchment was covered in a multitude of symbols, letters perhaps, that neither she nor anyone else had been able to read. They sounded like runes to Tom.

“Can I see the letters, please?” he asked. Lexi thought for a moment. The older boy was a bit scary but he was being nice, and he wasn’t scared of her or angry at her for what had happened earlier. What’s more, he said she was special, and seemed to know something about why this always happened. Though she normally never allowed anyone to hold her treasured letter from her mother, she found herself racing back down the hall eager to place her greatest treasure in his hands. Tom looked at the letter with a discerning eye and a neutral expression, careful not to seem too curious to the girl who sat eagerly waiting for his appraisal. The letters on the parchment were easy for him to read. They were a simple runic alphabet that any 2nd year student at Hogwarts would have been able to translate with a dictionary (or a good decoding spell) and minimal effort. As for Tom, top of his class, soon to start his third year, and a good two years ahead of most other students by his accounting, he may as well have been reading English.

My sweet Lexi, it read, I truly hope one day you will be able to read this. That will mean you have returned to our world. But for now, for the sake of your life and the lives of many others, I must leave you, safer with muggles than wizards. Our family is well respected, pure blood for generations. My parents would never abide what you are. Though our blood is in your veins, so is your father’s. He is a muggle. I cannot say who any more than I can say who my family is. He is the brother of a muggleborn friend of mine. My parents never approved of my being friendly with the muggleborn, and if they knew of your existence, they would kill her, your father, and at best leave you and I destitute and alone. They might try to hurt you as well or force me to give you up anyway, so I hid my pregnancy with a glamour spell and made the choice to give you up myself. I hope you don’t hate me for it. I hope one day you can understand. I will come to check on you when you’re older to see which way you were meant for, theirs or ours, but you will not see me until you are much older and then only if you are of our world. But please understand that I cannot acknowledge you publicly while my parents live. For now I leave you with my love and hope for your happiness whether you are witch or muggle. That was it. There was no signature, no additional information, but the few vague details it did contain, assuming they were true, could be enough for a clever reader with good connections to the Wizarding world to track the writer down. Tom wondered if it could be useful for him to do so. Having privy information on an established pureblood family couldn’t hurt his prospects.

“Well, can you read it or not?” The little girl stared at him, her lips in a thin expressionless line, but her eyes betrayed her desperation, tracking his slightest movement, widening exponentially as he returned his gaze to her. He could easily read it to her. Word for word, but then, information shared is power shared and Tom had never really been much for sharing. Still, she needed something if she was to believe in his ability. He'd paraphrase it, leaving the most important bits for himself, and if he could keep ahold of the letter, she’d never know any better, even after she’d made it to Hogwarts and could decode the runic alphabet for herself. He shined his most handsome, deeply indulgent smile as he answered. “It seems I was right about you,” he said. “You’re a witch. So was your mother but it seems she couldn’t keep you.” “Why?” she asked, her little voice barely audible. She tried to hide it, but the cavernous pain of a solitary orphan, no family to speak of and not a single friend to call their own was one that Tom knew all too well. The familiar rage started to seep in. Disgust for a weak and cowardly mother who could not or would not stay for her child, hatred for the ignorant muggles she’d abandoned them to who like animals feared and rejected them as not one of their own, never truly understanding how superior they were. For a moment, seeing that reflected in the child repelled him, but like everything else in his environment, he quickly calculated how he could use it to his advantage. She needed him. Needed someone to confirm what she’d always felt, that there was a reason she felt so different, that there was more to her than the fools around her saw. He held the knowledge she was only beginning to realize that she sought . And if he gave it to her? What price would she be willing to pay? What could she have that was of any value to him? Well, it would make the wretchedly dull summers pass a little more quickly to have someone he could speak with about his own world. Her familial connections may one day prove advantageous, and the girl also seemed to have talent, given the force of her accidental magical assault. Her wizarding world family connections wouldn’t be of much use to her, at least not in her early years at Hogwarts, but with the right guidance, her presence could be cultivated amongst the most influential students and teachers. He shrugged. “It doesn’t say exactly. She was young, I’m sure. She didn’t say who she was either. But you now know you’re a witch. Just as I’m a wizard.” “A wizard?” “Yes. And how old are you … Lexi, was it?” The girl nodded and smiled, pleased that he’d remembered her name. “Nine.” “Then in two more years, you’ll go to Hogwarts, like me. You’ll learn to grow your magic and use it intentionally. And when you’re grown, you can leave this place and live in the Wizarding world.” Lexi mulled this over in her head. What he was saying sounded too good to be true, but she wanted it to be. What orphan hadn’t dreamed of secretly being something special? Something great? Having a family? A friend. “What’s your name?” she asked the boy. He smiled at her again, and it was dazzling. “Tom will do.” A bell rang then, signaling for the children to come back inside for lunch. Tom took her left hand with his right, leading her down the corridor in the shadows on their way to the dining hall. She was so pleased with this that she didn’t notice him slipping her letters into his pockets with his left hand. As the summer passed, the staff grew used to seeing the pair together, getting over their initial shock that the sullen new girl seemed to be chattering nonstop to the elder boy, and that the normally aloof Tom not only tolerated her presence, but showered her with attention and affection. “Birds of a feather,” they’d say with a bemused shrug. The girl had proven to be an acceptable companion for his summer. She talked too much, as was typical of young girls, but she could be quiet when he commanded, and would always listen intently to anything he had to say about the wizarding world. She was reasonably clever, a quick learner, so eager to please, and most importantly, obedient to him.

One morning in late August, Lexi sat on Tom’s bed, staring at the floor as he sat at his desk, going over his third year supply list. “You’re quiet,” he observed, finding himself irritated at the change in the child’s behavior. “Tom, my letter …” she began. Oh. That again. At first she’d brought it up often, but as time went on, she brought it up less and less. It had been a good three weeks since she’d mentioned it last. Annoying. He had half a mind to destroy it just so she knew better than to mention it again. But he didn’t destroy his trophies once he’d taken them. He took good care of his things. “I’m sorry, Lexi. I still don’t know where I’ve put it. You’re not cross with me, are you?” He flashed a smile and she blushed. “It’s just … you’ll be gone to Hogwarts in two more weeks and I’ll be all alone again.” When her lips quivered, Tom felt that irritating little tug he felt in his chest sometimes when she was around him.

“If you cry, I’ll hex you,” he bluffed. She was unfazed by his threat but she did her best to smile at him instead and he rewarded her with a pat on the head. “You will keep busy with your studies while I’m gone. I’ll leave behind my old books and you’ll continue to read them and learn all you can.” Lexi nodded emphatically. She wanted nothing more than to continue to learn about the wizarding world. Well almost nothing. “Will you visit me on breaks, Tom? Will you write me?” Tom had no interest in coming back to this dreary, dull muggle hovel before he had to. But yes, he could send her an owl now and again. Keep her interest in him, assure she was continuing as instructed. And he would be pleased to have a more educated young witch for a companion next summer when he returned. For the once friendless and isolated girl, this morsel of acknowledgement was enough. She’d dutifully continue her studies, eager to report her progress whenever Tom sent an owl. She longed for and dreamed of her new handsome, intelligent and talented friend. It wasn’t much,but if he thought of her occasionally, even in such a magical and wonderful place as Hogwarts, then that was enough for her. She would continue to do whatever he asked. She longed for her own letter so that she could accompany him there one day, but little did she know that with the distance between them, this is the safest she would be for the remainder of her life

Chapter Text

The night before Tom Riddle was set to return from Hogwarts, Lexi couldn’t sleep at all. The past 10 months had been a blur of constant longing and learning, and like one possessed she devoured every book of spells, potions, history, even newspapers that Tom had left behind.

At night, the sound of German planes dropping their bombs across the city terrified most of the children and when they were forced to shut the blackout curtains and turn off the lights, sniffles and wails could be heard throughout both the boys and girls’ wards. Lexi though, buried under the covers in Tom’s bed with a flashlight and book couldn’t hear them. Her mind couldn’t have been farther from Wool’s Orphanage. Instead, She was in an Egyptian pyramid, helping a team of cursebreakers access an ancient wizard’s tomb, or in the Norwegian countryside helping Newt Scamander soothe a frightened Norweigian Ridgeback, or perhaps on a broomstick soaring across the night sky stretching over the moors. She’d sometimes forget to eat or venture outside of Tom’s room for whole days at a time because she was so engrossed in the books.

Tonight though, she found no solace or distraction in her reading. All she could think of was Tom. It had been three weeks since his last letter telling her that he would be returning on the 1st of June and expected to see some demonstrations of what she had learned. The owl he had sent didn’t wait around long enough for her to write a reply. She wondered what kind of demonstration he wanted. She could recite so many new facts, but had her magic actually grown? She had practiced the words and motions of the incantations in the Standard Book of Spells Grade 1, but most of them required a wand. She had learned the ingredients of some basic potions as well, but Tom hadn’t left a cauldron, or any shrivelfig or salamamder blood. How could she know what he was expecting? How could she prove herself to him?

A loud rumble and an empty feeling in her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten anything today. Perhaps a little snack would help soothe her nerves enough to allow her to sleep. She got up out of the bed and quietly crept through the shadows towards the kitchen.

A light was shining in the kitchen pantry and hushed voices could be heard whispering inside.

“See there? They’ve been doing us dirty, Jim. Haven’t they?”

“You’re right, Jack. Putting us on rations when they got this good stuff stored up in here. I says we takes em.”

Lexi silently groaned. The Mitchel brothers. Bulky, stupid, and cruel to the younger students. Lexi knew their type from other orphanages and had steered clear of them since she came here. She didn’t want to be caught in the pantry with them in the middle of the night. She’d have to go without her snack for now. She turned around, but too late.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

Lexi froze, mentally scolding herself for being seen. She’d always been so good at sneaking in the shadows and now she knew that it was probably her magic that had helped her with that. Had she really been so distracted lately as to allow herself to be caught by big bumbling oafs like these two? She knew better than to try to run now that she had been spotted so she turned around and tried to quickly think of the best way to get out of the kitchen without incident. If she ran, they’d chase her and they’d all get caught. If she stayed and they tried to bully her, her magic might protect her and then what? She couldn’t risk getting sent away to another orphanage, this time away from the only friend she’d ever had. She thought quickly.

“You think this is the good stuff? I know where Ms Cole hides her gin.”

This seemed to interest the older boys greatly. They stuffed their pockets and followed her back out into the kitchen where she proceeded to lead them to the basement stairs. Once they were distracted she could fade to the shadows and escape.
At least that was the plan. But the Mitchels were a bit less dense than she had suspected. The eldest, Jim, clamped his large rough hand tightly around her wrist.

“You’ll be coming with me. And ye better not be lyin’ bout the gin.”

“I’m not,” Lexi lied. “Me and Tom sip from it all the time.”

A look of recognition spread over the brothers’ faces.

“That’s right. You’re that weird little bird what hangs around Riddle all the time.”
She nodded, smiling, pleased to hear that people had begun associating her with Tom.

“Freaks, the both of you,” Jim replied hardening his grip and glaring down. “And think you’re better ‘en the rest of us, don’t ya?”
“Cos we are,” muttered Lexi before she could stop herself. This earned her a hard slap from Jim’s free hand. She reeled, and would have fallen had he not been gripping her wrist so tightly.

Suddenly, Jim pulled away from her, jumping as if he had touched a hot stove.
“Ow! What’d you do, you freak?!” he screamed, then stuck his fingers in his mouth and sucked them gingerly.
A light flicked on in the corridor.
“Who’s in there?!” one of the matrons called. Lexi, once again clearheaded used the moment’s distraction to slip back into the shadows and escape the Mitchel brothers. As they fled, pursued by the matron, she snuck quietly back to Tom’s room and laid back down, having neither her hunger nor her nerves soothed.

***************
Tom Riddle was quiet and sullen on the Hogwarts express on its way back to Kings Crossing Station. Abraxus Malfoy was prattling on to Orion Black about some new broom he would be receiving from his father when he got home for his holiday. Orion, in turn regaled him with talk of the Black Clan’s holiday trip to Bulgaria where he would follow through on his father’s mandate to court Walburga.

Boring. Stupid. His classmates had no real ambition or vision. At school, they had already begun to look to him as a leader, smart, talented, and witty, as they should, but their lives outside of Hogwarts still held such a stark contrast. They would enjoy the mindless pleasures of a privileged wizarding youth, while he would return to that disgusting muggle orphanage.

How he’d wished the German muggles with their planes and bombs that little Lexi had dutifully described for him would have managed to hit that one building so he didn’t have to go back. But he hadn’t been so lucky. At least she was there. He had plans for Lexi this summer that should prove rather interesting. Hogwarts students couldn’t practice magic outside of school, particularly not in the vicinity of muggles. As of yet, he hadn’t found a way to do so undetected. But young witches who hadn’t gone to Hogwarts yet, who hadn’t been taught how to control their own magic couldn’t get into too much trouble. They didn’t know any better, after all. Tom smirked to himself, thinking of the fun they would have. Perhaps this summer wouldn’t be so bad after all.

************†*******
Lexi Monroe thought she would die, and she would die the absolutely happiest girl on earth. Tom Riddle, surely the handsomest boy to ever exist was holding her hand, gently rubbing his thumb over her lightly bruised wrist. Up until the moment of his arrival, her stomach had been in knots but the moment he walked in the door, all she felt was pure joy. She ran to hug him and Tom tolerated it patiently for a few seconds before finally pushing her away. It was them that he noticed the bruises. No one had ever noticed or cared about little marks on a friendless nobody like her before. But Tom had. Right away, he had.
“Who did this?” he asked, after silently inspecting it for few moments. His voice had taken on a dark edge that frightened her in a way she hadn’t felt since that very first day they’d met. She tried to pull her hand away but he held tight.
“Its nothing, just some older boys were funning around, I guess.” She didn’t want to admit how she had been seen by the Mitchel brothers, her magically enhanced ability to hide away having failed her. Of course she had somehow been able to burn his skin. Was that enough to redeem herself in Tom’s eyes?
Inwardly Tom Riddle was seething with rage. Some pathetic muggle thought he could get away with putting his hands on a witch? More importantly, that muggle had dared to touched something (someone) that belonged to him. Vengeful thoughts swirled in his head.
“Who was it?” he demanded, pressing just a bit hard into the bruise to make sure he had her complete attention.
“The Mitchell’s. Jack was the one that did it, I think.”

“Just to be sure, they’ll both pay,” her older friend replied.

Lexi was a little less sure of herself now
“Are you going to hurt them, Tom?”
Tom Marvolo Riddle smiled at the still naïve youngster.
“No, my dear,” he replied. “You are.”

Chapter Text

When the beds of both Mitchel boys caught fire in the middle of the night, no one knew quite what to think.

“Probably trying to sneak some cigarettes. Same thing happened to my father when he fell asleep with one.” One of the matrons suggested.

“Doesn’t make sense. We’d have found matches then.” Replied another.

“Not if they got burned up,” chimed a third, knowingly. It was possible. Both boys suffered burns that required the staff to call in the doctor, nothing life threatening but they were certainly lucky to get off as lightly as they had. Jack Mitchell had his hair and eyebrows singed off but his older brother, Jim had it worse.
His hands and wrists had been burned to a point where there would probably be some permanent scaring.

“That means he’s the one that started it” one of the children whispered, as they, like the staff had been abuzz with rumors and theories of exactly what had happened.

It wasn’t lost on Mrs. Cole that this incident had occurred the very night after Tom Riddle had returned from his boarding school but as usual she couldn’t prove he’d been involved in any way. She did worry for that little girl though. The poor thing seemed absolutely moony for Tom. She had moped about the whole school year while he was gone and had been back at his side the moment he returned. But she hadn’t returned to her usual cheerful chatty self as one might have expected. She was seated next to Tom now, but instead of turned towards him with a worshipful gaze, her head was bowed, staring at the buckles on her shoes in silence.

“You’re being childish. You know that, don’t you?” Tom scolded his younger companion. She shrugged silently, the weight of conflicting emotions preventing her from speaking. She had wanted to do something to get back at the Mitchell brothers. A prank seemed like a good idea. But she hadn’t wanted to hurt them that badly. Jim Michell’s screams as the doctor treated his burns were still ringing in her ears. Tom had laughed then, as if it were the grandest of jokes. He had praised her then. Talented, he had called her. Clever. She liked the sound of that, especially from his lips, but as her mind played the boy’s terrified screams over and over she couldn’t help but feel guilty. Tom gently lifted her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye.

“This isn’t your fault. He hurt you first. He deserved to be punished.” He did hurt her first. That was true.
“Just look at your wrist. Your face too.” Tom was right. There were still bruises on her wrist, and her lip was still a bit swollen where Jim had slapped her.

“If you’re not respectful to a snake, chances are he’ll bite you.” Lexi wasn’t sure exactly what Tom meant by this but he said it so sagely that she couldn’t help but feel as if he was speaking a profound truth. She nodded, the voice of guilt deafened just a little by her idol’s confidence and charm.

Tom smiled as he saw his little companion relax a bit. He had worried that he had pushed her too far too soon, but as her only gateway to information about the wizarding world, she trusted his word as absolute truth. She had performed beautifully for him though. Despite her initial hesitations, with prodding, she was able to do exactly as he asked. It was hardly enough though. That oaf should suffer more for touching something of his. Oh, the way he had screamed was golden though. Still, it had been too much for Lexi. He’d take care to be more gentle in his lessons now that this had been addressed. In time he was sure he could teach her what he knew instinctually: that they were superior, that muggles were unworthy of her sympathy.
For whatever stupid reason this had been difficult for her, yet she obeyed. That is what Tom liked about her the most. She always obeyed him. He widened his smile and rewarded her with a brotherly kiss on the top of her head. She melted into him, clinging to his sweater, and he let her.

“Ms Cole! That peculiar gentleman’s here again! Says he’s come to see the Monroe girl this time!” One of the staff had rushed into the activity room where Tom and Lexi had been sitting in the corner together and announced this loudly.
Tom cursed. He knew exactly who the woman was talking about. Dumbledore was here. He pulled Lexi closer and whispered a fervent command in her ear.

“Listen, I had nothing to do with what happened to the Mitchells. As for you, you’re untrained and inexperienced. You couldn’t have known any better and so you won’t be punished. But be careful what you tell this man. He’s not to be trusted.”

Lexi didn’t know what to think at the moment. Her heart raced when Tom pulled her closer and whispered in her ear. Surrounded by his warm body and his familiar smell, she felt safer than she had the majority of her life, but what he said was confusing. What man? Who was being punished?
Tom’s voice took on an increased urgency with its harsh whisper.

“Lexi. I did nothing, and you’ll tell Dumbledore nothing. Tell me you understand.”
She didn’t but she nodded anyway not wanting to disappoint Tom. Tom released her and looked up, smiling a fake smile at a man who was walking in the door.

The man who walked in was one of the strangest Lexi had ever seen. He had long auburn hair and a bushy beard just beginning to streak with white, but he was otherwise well kept. He wore a soft looking eggplant purple suit with a marigold colored bowtie. His nose was long and a bit crooked, and a small pair of half moon spectacles was folded in his breast pocket. Lexi supposed he was handsome, though certainly nowhere near as handsome as Tom. She had no idea who he was but she was sure of what he was. Another wizard.

“I hadn’t expected to see you so soon, Professor,” Tom stated coolly.
Albus Dumbledore returned Tom’s cordial smile.

“You’ll be pleased, Mr. Riddle, that I am not here to bother you during your holiday. It is your young companion, Lexi, that I am here to speak with.” Outwardly, Tom did not react to this response, but Lexi, felt the prickles of Tom’s anger and apprehension. Maybe she was mistaken. Tom disliked plenty of people but he wasn’t afraid of anyone. Was he? Who was this man?

“Miss Monroe, would you please take a walk with me?” Lexi remained next to Tom, waiting for his instructions. He gave a barely perceptible nod and so she got up and took the arm the gentleman offered, allowing him to guide her out to the garden.
Dumbledore led her to a secluded stone bench under a shady old oak on the far side of the garden. This was a favored spot of Lexi’s, where she would often go to sit and read or just think when the matrons insisted she go outside with the other children. This was her place. She felt comfortable here. At ease. For Dumbledore, this spot was ideal, as it was sufficiently far away from eavesdropping from both the muggles, and young Tom Riddle. Dumbeldore sat down next to the girl and gave her a kind, twinkling smile.

“My dear, I believe first we should make sure we are on equal footing. I know your name so it’s only fair that you should know mine. Have you already guessed who I am?”

“I don’t know your name, sir, but I know where you’ve come from and what you are. You’re like Tom and me aren’t you?”

“If by that you mean that I am a Wizard, then you are right. You’re a very clever young girl.” Lexi beamed at his praise.

Tom, too far away to hear what was being said, but watching covertly from the window felt a sting of jealously. Lexi was smiling at Dumbledore. Not the fake placating smile she gave to the matrons when they were correcting her, but her real smile, the one he’d only ever seen her give to him. He didn’t like it. Thoughts of setting the Hogwarts professor on fire like they’d done to the Mitchells entered his mind to comfort him, but he quickly pushed them away. He was sure if he thought about it too much that Dumbledore would somehow feel it and he couldn’t risk getting caught. He exhaled in frustration.

“My name is Albus Dumbledore,” the man told the girl and held out his hand to shake hers. “I am a professor at Hogwarts, which your young friend, Tom, had no doubt told you about.” Lexi’s smile widened even more as she responded.

“Oh yes. Tom told me a lot about Hogwarts and witches and wizards and I’ve been learning magic already. I’ve been studying Tom’s old books. I can do a lot already. I know incantations. I know about potions. I read a little bit about herbology and also magical creatures. Can I go? Did you come to bring me a letter?”

“Not only clever, but also studious and talented,” the professor observed. Lexi was over the moon with this additional praise. Although she’d always enjoyed reading and history lessons, Lexi’s messy handwriting and less than excellent arithmetic skills had far more often earned scolding than praises from the teachers at the many orphanages where she had grown up. Getting acknowledgement from a teacher, especially one who already knew how she was special, felt wonderful.

“Idiot,” spat Tom glaring at Lexi as she continued to light up in Albus Dumbledore’s presence. No doubt the professor was filling her with empty flattery in order to gain allegiance or compliance. Was she really so naïve, so stupid, as to fall for that? He’d have to come up with a plan to ensure that she remained loyal to him. Just him.

“You’ve only just turned 10, so I’m afraid you have another year before you can come to Hogwarts, but your name is on the list of future attendees. That’s not the only reason I’m here today though, I’m afraid.” Dumbledore’s smile faded to a still cordial but more serious expression. Lexi froze. This is what Tom was trying to warn her about. He knew what she had done to the Mitchels. What would happen? Was she going to be punished? Expelled from Hogwarts before she even began? Sent to some kind of wizard’s prison? But how could he know? No one but she and Tom had been there. She did her best to keep a blank expression and fish for more information.

“Oh? Why then?”

“A muggle boy was harmed through magical means last night.” He glanced towards the window where he could just make out Tom Riddle’s silhouette.

“How do you know it was magic?” she asked. Dumbledore explained how each residence where young witches or wizards live is set with a trace to detect if any magic is used. Lexi tried to swallow, but felt a hard lump in her throat. Should she tell the truth? Maybe he was bluffing. Grownups often did that when they wanted children to tell on themselves and they thought children weren’t smart enough to know better.

“Tom already knows that young wizards are not allowed to use magic outside of school. I hope he wouldn’t break the rules in such a way.” Lexi felt the need to defend her friend.

“Of course he didn’t!” She responded with indignation and it was the truth, but even if it hadn’t been, she would never have told on Tom.

“Then what did happen? The burns seem too deliberate to be accidental, but you truly don’t seem to be the kind of person who would hurt another human being in such a horrible way.” Dumbledore gazed into her eyes with a kind but piercing stare that made her stomach hurt. She knew he was wrong. She had hurt them. Tom had managed to make her forget it for a moment but the guilt was still there and she was worried that somehow this wizard could see it.
Dumbledore softened, sensing the child’s internal struggle.

“Lexi, it’s understandable to get angry when people hurt us physically or emotionally.” The girl nodded.

“Tom said the same thing,” she mused, mostly to herself. Dumbledore sighed, finally understanding what had happened and feeling pity and kinship for the little girl. He continued.

“But we are responsible for what we do with those feelings. If what happened was an accident, we can teach you to control it. And if it wasn’t,” he paused for a moment, seeing the little girl wince, confirming what he had suspected. Reminded of his own youth, when he had once been so desperate for the love of a charismatic young wizard that he had ignored his own scruples.
“You shouldn’t have to do things you know in your heart are wrong to get someone to love you. And just because you love someone doesn’t mean that you must or you should ignore yourself.”

Lexi didn’t fully understand what he had meant by this but it left her feeling more ashamed. He seemed to be talking about how she felt about Tom. It was true. She had never hurt someone like that on her own, but Tom had told her to, and Tom approved when she did as she was asked. Before Tom, she had been alone. No one had told her she was clever, special, talented. Tom did. No one had bothered to teach her to hone her own special talents or even knew what they were. Tom did. He was also clever, talented, smart, wise, handsome, witty, everything she’d ever wished for in a friend or an older brother. Perhaps that’s where she and this wizard professor differed. The reason she really felt guilty is because she knew deep down, that if Tom wanted her to do it again, she would. She’d feel awful for it but she’d do it all the same. Keeping her friend, and making him happy meant more to her than anything else. She liked this Dumbledore and she wished there was a way she could explain this to him. Apologize for it, maybe. Make him understand how that felt. But that was impossible.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, and she meant it, but she knew that it wasn’t enough.

Dumbledore’s heart broke for the little girl, understanding her more than she could ever possibly imagine. He knew all too well what it was like to so desperately need someone to love you. It was the heaviest of curses, and to this day, he wasn’t fully sure if there was a countercurse. Impulsively, he hugged the young witch.

“Lexi, you’ll gain more friends, and more people who will see the good in you at Hogwarts, but it will be up to you to choose the good in yourself.”

How dare he. Tom’s seething threatened to boil over in white hot rage. That prick Dumbledore had his arms around her and he couldn't stand it. He had thought Lexi was a simple tool, one he’d utilize on occasion and do just what was required to maintain. Why should he care who else she spoke with or who else showed her affection so long as she was willing to do as she was told when he asked? But somehow that didn’t feel like enough anymore. To see someone else giving her the affection she childishly craved, to see her return affection to someone other than him. He wouldn’t have it. That smile, those hugs, even her annoying girlish chatter. He wanted all of it for himself. Albus Dumbledore of all people was not going to take it away from him. He painted on his loving big brother face and sauntered out to the garden, determined that Lexi’s attention and affection be returned to him immediately.

When Tom appeared, Dumbledore watched sadly as everything he had just told the girl seemed to melt away. In this moment for her, he knew that there was only Tom and nothing anyone else could say or do would be able to get through.
Tom put a possessive arm around the young witch’s shoulders and she leaned into it.

“Professor, I was hoping that we could return to our studies. You interrupted a study session you know.”

“Very unfortunate what happened to the young muggle boys,” Dumbledore responded. Tom looked from him to Lexi and back, and he knew that Dumbledore knew something, as he always seemed to, but Lexi, despite her naiveté hadn’t told him everything.

“Yes. Unfortunate but deserved. They bullied her, you know. And it’s so hard for little witches to control themselves when someone is hurting them. Making our lessons all the more imperative.”

“She’ll learn at school, Tom. You just make sure you are setting the proper example for her until then. You know our rules.” Tom pulled Lexi closer.

“I’ll be sure of it.” With one last look of pity, Dumbledore left the two children in the garden and went to speak with Ms. Cole and the muggle boys to make sure there was no need for a memory charm, and to warn her that Tom and Lexi should be monitored closely when together.

“Don’t I know it,” she confided. “It isn’t proper the way the two are always together and I do worry about her. But he doesn’t hurt her like he did the others. Seems to like her as she’s peculiar as he is.” It seemed that Dumbledore would have to wait until she entered Hogwarts to better protect young Lexi. He prayed that by then it wasn’t too late.

Back in the courtyard, Tom sat with Lexi but instead of next to her as he would have previously, he pulled her into his lap. Dumbledore wasn’t about to show his Lexi more affection than he did.

“What did he say to you, Lexi?” Tom prodded. Lexi gave a mundane overview of their conversation, leaving out the bits about her feelings that she was barely able to admit to herself. “Dumbledore will mess with your head,” Tom warned. “Don’t take a thing he said for face value, and remember he is not to be trusted.”

Lexi nodded and Tom felt appeased for the moment. But this wasn’t over. He knew now that it wasn’t just magic he’d be training her in this summer. He would also need to ensure that she was his, in his presence, in his absence, around muggles and wizards alike. She belonged to him and he had to ensure that nothing could change that.

Chapter Text

Lexi’s first trip to Diagon Alley was something that she had dreamed about ever since she had learned of its existence and now that she and Tom were going there together the only thing she could imagine enjoying more was their actual arrival together at Hogwarts. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, she thought. She could think of something she thought she would enjoy even more.

This past summer, the staff at the orphanage had taken some of the older children to a picture show. She had never been to one before and after substantial begging, Tom agreed not only that she could go but that he would go with her. She was ecstatic.

It was a film about a tempestuous young woman and her dark enigmatic lover. They had loved each other even as children and were fated to be together even in death. Tom had found it incredibly boring and fell asleep in the darkened theater shortly after the excitement of the newsreel about the muggle war effort had ended. But for Lexi it had stirred so much new emotion. It gave words to things she had felt but hadn’t known how to name or describe even to herself.

If everything in the world died and Heathcliff remained, life would still be full for me. That’s what the woman in the film had said, and she knew exactly how that felt. She knew because she had Tom. When the woman laid in her deathbed, sick from unfulfilled love, her beloved had wrapped his arms around her and passionately pressed his lips to hers. Tom had kissed her before, on her head, on her cheek, but never like that. That kind of kiss was something different. Not to be shared between just friends or brother and sister, but between lovers. The princess and knight in shining armor in a fairytale. Heathcliff and Cathy.

From the beginning she knew she had adored Tom with her entire being but now she realized there was a another side to it, a new kind of feeling that began to fill her dreams at night and her musings during the day. Somehow she hadn’t been able to bring herself to admit all of this to Tom but surely he had to know how she felt about him. She knew Tom was fond of her. He lavished her with attention, affection, praise, even gifts. He was moody and demanding but he always rewarded her attention and obedience and of all the girls in the orphanage, she was the only one he ever graced with his own time or attention. But what was she to him? A friend? A student? A little sister? She wished she could be something more. Perhaps at Hogwarts she would one day have that chance.

“Honestly, Lexi, this incessant daydreaming of yours lately is rather unbecoming. You need to be focusing on the task at hand.” Tom scolded her gently, bringing her thoughts back to Diagon Alley. He was pleased to see that she not only automatically acquiesced but managed to look sufficiently admonished without it affecting her ability to obey. Over the past year he had become fond of the girl, and was unable to imagine a pet that would have been easier or more eager to be trained. Sometimes he imagined transfiguring her into a little garden snake just so he could keep her in the pocket of his robe. He might one day. He didn’t think she’d really mind. “Let’s go over the story once more,” he prompted.

“My parents were Romanian wizards. They died on holiday in UK and I was found by muggles which is why I live at a muggle orphanage.” Tom patted her head.

“Perfect. My friends will adore you. You’re bright, talented, lovely. A perfect accessory to Slytherin.”

“But what if I’m not put in Slytherin?” she asked.

“You will be,” Tom responded, managing to make it sound like both a threat and a promise.

A group of teens around Tom’s age approached them. A tall, slender blonde boy, slapped him on the back jovially.
“Riddle, old boy! Couldn’t help but notice that shiny new prefect badge! Well done!” Tom smirked.

“Was there ever any doubt, Abraxas?”

“Certainly not!”

A thin dark haired girl flanked by three similar looking dark haired boys smiled at Lexi.

“Tom, she’s precious,” she cooed. “Is this your little Romanian orphan?” She pet Lexi’s head as one might a cute puppy. Tom appreciated that his Lexi tolerated but did not beam at well connected but stupid Walburga Black. Her fiancee, Orion Black, raised an eyebrow.

“Are you quite sure? I’ve been to Romania. She doesn’t really look Romanian to me.” Lexi shrugged.

“Well I don’t know what to tell you then.” The rest of the group laughed.

“Sassy little thing,” Abraxas observed. “I like her.” Tom laughed along with the group but only Lexi seemed to notice the slight narrowing of his eyes when his gaze turned to the dark haired boy who had dared to question Tom’s lie.

The group made their way to the Leaky Cauldron, where Tom had led them and Abraxas Malfoy had paid for everyone to have a drink. Somehow, although the blonde boy had paid for it, the entire group, including Abraxas seemed to be ingratiated to Tom for the drink. Lexi wasn’t sure what to make of this but she was happy to see that her Tom seemed to be so well respected.
Tom had ordered Lexi’s drink for her. A butterbeer, he called it. It was very sweet tasting, like a candy she had tried before but she couldn’t remember the name of.

As they gathered at a table, more Slytherin students joined them and conversation turned to topics she knew little about. When she tried to speak up to ask questions, a discreet elbow from Tom gave her to know that she would not be participating in the conversation. Growing increasingly bored and frustrated, she pouted, then whined to her friend.

“Can we go now, Tom? Please?” She didn’t want to sit here with all these older students who probably knew far more magic with which to impress Tom, and listen to them drone on about things she didn’t understand, especially if she wasn’t even allowed to engage. Tom gave her a dirty look.

“Soon. Now be quiet.” She continued to sulk but did as she was bidden, retreating into her own thoughts again. Tom was different here. At the orphanage he stayed away from the others, and he doted on her constantly. It made sense, she guessed. There she and Tom were the only ones who were special. Here everyone was. She had the feeling that Tom was talented enough that even in in this magical place he was exceptional. She wasn’t sure where that left her though.

Watch. A single, wordless command came to her mind in Tom’s voice. She looked up in surprise and met his eyes, which were fixed in the dangerously dark glint they wore when he was exacting a revenge for any perceived slight. She shivered a bit without meaning to but Tom didn’t notice.

When he had her attention, his lips pulled into a smile but his eyes remained smoldering. He shifted his gaze meaningfully to Orion Black, meaning for her to follow.

Orion looked paler than earlier, and seemed to now have a slight green hue to his skin. His eyes flitted wildly around the room.
The conversation stopped, turning the attention onto Orion when one of the other dark haired boys stopped to ask if he was alright. Orion opened his mouth to speak but instead vomited, all over the table, and all over Walburga Black who screamed and began hitting and cursing at her fiancée who continued to vomit in copious amounts. In rapid succession, the table began to clear out, as no one wanted to be near the disgusting spectacle. Soon, only Tom, Lexi, Orion, Walburga, and a helpful barkeep who had brought the sick boy a bucket and a wet towel remained.

“Well, I suppose we’ll be off then,” quipped Tom. “I’ve still got to take my little Romanian witch to get her first year supplies.” He emphasized the nationality and Orion’s eyes widened, realizing his mistake too late. Tom smirked. “Feel better, Orion. I’ll see you on the train.” He took Lexi’s arm leading her out of the pub and back towards the shops.

“Tom, did you-” she began. He gave her a cold glare in response.

“No one crosses me. Ever.”

She shuddered. If Tom treated those whom called themselves his friends this way, she didn’t want to think about what happened to those who weren’t his friends that tried to cross him. In a place where Tom had free reign to use magic, she could only guess how gruesome his revenge might be.

Tom was quite pleased. Everything was going well. He’d demonstrated his power by the influence he had over the other Slytherins and by punishing one who dared to question him. He’d also successfully used the art of Legilimency to project his thoughts into Lexi’s mind. He was eager to continue probing this talent.

“Come, let’s finish up your shopping, my dear,” Tom quipped in a pleasant tone, smiling at his younger companion. “I have homework for you tonight.”

Chapter Text

The long awaited date of Lexi’s first trip on the Hogwarts Express had finally arrived but somehow, Lexi couldn’t seem to muster the energy to match the excitement she thought she would feel. Right now she was far too physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted to feel much of anything. Tom had kept her up all night pushing and prodding into her mind with his newfound legilimency skills.

At first, it seemed like a fun new game. Tom would think a few words and she would try to hear them in her own mind. Then, he would instruct her to think of something and he would try to hear it in his own mind. When it worked, Tom was ecstatic, manically demanding trial after trial of increasing difficulty. When it stopped working, he quickly lost his temper, angrily hissing his demands, insisting that Lexi was the problem, not him, that if she’d just concentrate a little harder they could push farther.

“Tom,” she had whined “I don’t want to play anymore. I’m tired.” His normally cool dark eyes flashed with fiery intensity.

“Don’t be daft. This is not a game. This is a skill I will require to become the most powerful wizard the world has ever known and it is worth every ounce of our effort to develop.” Lexi squirmed uncomfortably.

“I know, but … can’t we just rest a bit? We can practice more tomorrow, can’t we?”

“No!” Tom’s response came out a monstrous growl as he summoned every bit of his ironclad will and smashed it violently against her mind.

Lexi crumpled to the floor, blacking out at the sudden psychic force. This stopped him for a moment. He stared at the girl, limp like a ragdoll on the cold pine floor. It reminded him of the small animals he used to catch and torture to death when he was younger. He teetered between a thrill at his own power and a disappointment that Lexi hadn’t been able to take more.

Weakness. He despised it. His Lexi wasn’t allowed to be weak. He’d train her to be better. He picked her up and laid her on the bed, and she began to come to in his arms.

“Tom,” She murmured his name and he felt that annoying tug in his chest again. He inhaled, breathing in her familiar scent. Often this past summer she had stayed up late into the night studying at his side until she fell asleep next to him. It was easier to just leave her in his bed rather than wake her and allow her to risk sneaking back to the girl’s ward. So he’d lay next to her in the single bed. Her body was warm and soft so he didn’t mind it being there.

He considered laying there with her now, allowing both of them some rest before their trip to King’s Crossing in the morning. But the allure of growing this new and rare power was too much for him to resist. He looked down at the girl now lying on his bed, her now open eyes showing a mixture of fear and that desperate need to please him. And also exhaustion. Would she be of any use to him like this? Perhaps he could let her sleep, for a little while. Besides, there were other legilimency skills he wanted to experiment with that were best attempted on someone sleeping.

“Go ahead then. Get some sleep,” he instructed. As he rhythmically stroked her hair in the darkened room, shushing her when she tried to talk, her initial look of disbelief faded and she succumbed to her exhaustion. Perfect. Now to try his hand at probing the sleeping unconscious mind.

He laid next to her, feeling the familiar warmth of her aura, then pushed inward, towards the hum of her unconscious mind. This was harder than looking for a specific thought. So many thoughts, images, feelings, floating around, spinning in a never stopping carrousel. Was it possible to reach out and grasp a single one?

He felt his own presence throughout her mind and this pleased him though some areas seemed to be more blurry, and harder to see. He focused on one particularly murky region trying to see beyond the thick fog. He could sense his own presence there somehow. He didn’t understand how that was possible. Perhaps it contained a thought related to him? He thought quickly, and decided to try some more focused prodding. Guided suggestions, perhaps?

Lexi, What do you think of Tom Riddle? he mentally prompted. Her mind radiated warmth and her unconscious responded.

He’s lovely, she thought. Tom snorted, annoyed. Is that all girls thought about? Whether a boy was handsome? No wonder there weren’t any witches in his year that were anywhere close to rivaling him.

He is handsome but that’s not what I meant. Her unconscious responded to his own musings.

Oh? He responded, caught a bit off guard.

He’s smart. He always knows what to do and everyone always listens to him. Because he’s clever. And he knows all about magic. He’s so strong.

Go on. Tom grinned. He couldn’t help but indulge himself in this bit of ego stroking. He did appreciate when others had the intelligence to realize his magnificence. Another reason he’d become fond of Lexi.

I know things will be different at Hogwarts. I know he’s already got so much power there. She grew quiet for a moment and the air around them seemed to grow cold and a whistling wind blew through her mind.

Lexi, what are you thinking about now? A minute passed with no response. He repeated the prompt again, forcing his energy into hers a bit further.

I’m scared. Lexi’s voice echoed.

Fear makes you weak, Tom scolded.

I know Tom thinks so. I try not to be. But I know he’ll hurt people.

And that scares you? A translucent image of the young girl before him shook her head in negation.

Maybe, but …no, that’s not it really.

Then what’s the problem?

Jim Mitchell screaming in fear and pain flashed before him, replaced by Dumbledore hugging young Lexi in the garden. This sight, even after more than a year had gone by still filled him with such an intense jealous rage.

The image flickered as her mind felt and wilted against his anger. An urge to punish her came to Tom’s mind. She had allowed Dumbledore to hug her after all. She had even smiled at him. Why? It felt like a betrayal that she would smile at his enemy. What was she really hiding in that murky section of her brain? He threw his will into it, causing her to moan in discomfort in her sleep as if she was having a nightmare.

Gradually, an image became clearer. Lexi, a bit older than she is now, and what he surmised to be an older version of his self stood together. Around them, he smelled fire and blood, screams of fear and anguish rang in the distance and about them, buildings reduced to rubble and lifeless bodies littered the floor. Tom’s heart quickened at this intoxicating scene.

Even if … Lexi’s voice began, but stopped to correct herself. Not if. Even WHEN this happens, I’ll love him.

Love? Silly little girls always thinking about this. Even his Lexi who was surely smarter than most girls. This foolish preoccupation with emotional attachment was something that Tom simply couldn’t comprehend. Certainly he was fond of the girl, but love? He didn’t understand it and he had no desire to. It seemed like a waste of time and energy at best, and at worst, weakness. Tom Riddle despised weakness in all forms.

The figures before him, now more corporeal, approached one another and embraced. He saw his older self pull the older version of Lexi to him and put his mouth over hers almost like a dementor sucking out her soul. He felt Lexi’s heartbeat quicken at this image and he found his heart rate increasing as well along with an unfamiliar stirring in his gut.

He didn’t like this. He knew girls thought he was handsome and more than once he had used his charm to get what he wanted from them, but not once had it stirred the slightest feeling in him. But with Lexi he felt something. It wasn’t love. He wasn’t nearly so weak as that. But he wanted her. He wanted to keep her near him, bask in her adoration, feel her warmth, and … no, this was foolish. He’d punish her for having such weak, foolish, girlish thoughts… But he wanted her to keep having them all the same. He wanted her to need him, long for him, worship him. She was his and so he wanted it all.

Tom felt something then that he had no words to describe. It repelled him, crawled his skin. He wanted no more of this. Quickly he withdrew himself from Lexi’s mind and found himself back on the single bed next to the young girl’s sleeping form.

“Lexi,” he called her name, but she didn’t respond, sleeping soundly. He shoved her over a little harder than he needed to and laid down beside her, staring up at the ceiling and trying his best to think of nothing until he too fell into a restless sleep.
That morning when they woke up, Lexi seemed quiet and tired, but showed no indication that she knew what Tom had seen in her mind.

“You look tired,” Tom observed flatly. She nodded.

“Yeah, I don’t think I slept well. Bad dreams I think,” she replied.

“About?” he prodded. She simply shrugged.

“I don’t remember but I don’t think I’ve ever been so tired.” So then, if you probed someone’s unconscious mind when they were asleep they might not even realize you’ve done it. She might not even be fully aware of the thoughts that he saw even within herself. That was good information to have. Now, they had business to attend to.

“Go back to the girls ward and get dressed," he commanded, feeling back to his usual self. "Today we leave for Hogwarts.”

Chapter Text

As Tom Riddle boarded the Hogwarts Express for his fifth year, he did so with a mind burning with great ambition, eager to continue testing his legilimency skills on other students, and to continue the research into his family lineage that he’d been forced to leave behind when he’d left for the summer. He was close, he knew, to confirming a great lineage for himself. He’d make Lexi help him. Between the two of them, they could scour the dusty old tomes twice as fast. She could, in fact, continue the research whilst he was busy with prefect duties and that would also free up his time for other manners of gaining power.
For example, determining the identity of Lexi’s pureblood mother. This, he would do without her assistance. If he chose to share the information with her, it would be because it benefitted him to do so, though more than likely, he’d keep it to himself. He didn’t need some sentimental hag nosing around his Lexi. She’d be far too busy for such things what with the research, her schoolwork, becoming a witch worthy of supporting his great ambitions. He looked to her now, gazing around the train with the widest eyes he’d ever seen. Feeling his gaze, she beamed at him despite her exhaustion and he smiled back. Yes, this would be a very good year. Tom took the first year’s arm and led her into an empty car.

“Are your friends coming?” she asked. Tom nodded. “They’ll be filing in soon. But now I’ve got my prefect duties, so you’ll stay here and wait for me.” The girl nodded and sat down as she was bid, sinking into the soft bench seating. It was so much softer than the scratchy old bedding on the cots at the orphanage, and immediately reminded her of how tired she was.

“Can I rest, Tom?” she asked. He merely shrugged.

“Do as you like,” he responded and he exited the car without a glance back in her direction. Lexi, grateful for the warm car and the knowledge that she was finally off to school with Tom instead of being left behind stretched out on the seat and closed her eyes, smiling to herself.

“Right then, come on back here!”
The voice of an unfamiliar boy startled Lexi awake. She hadn’t realized she’d been sleeping and had no idea for how long. Outside the window, green windswept moors passed by and the sun was high in the sky. Was it lunchtime already? Her stomach seemed to think so.

She looked towards the source of the disturbance and gasped in surprise. Just inside the door of the car was the strangest person that she’d ever seen. He had to be bigger than most grown men she’d seen, but his face was that of a child, perhaps close to her own age. His shaggy brown hair flowed wildly in all directions down his well worn cloak. He looked up when he heard her gasp and gave a sheepish smile.

“Sorry. Din’ know no one was in here. Din’ mean ter wake yeh.” At that moment a tiny green vinelike creature jumped down from the ceiling into his bushy hair, settling in like a bird in its nest. Lexi thought she recognized the creature from her reading.

“You’ve got a bowtruckle in your hair.” She muttered. The boy grinned again with an apologetic shrug.

“Yeah. Truckie here got bored on the train an’ wanted ter go fer a walk. Din’ mean fer em to go wakin’ people up though.” His voice grew more gruff as he gazed upwards, directing his words at the creature, but he couldn’t stop smiling long enough to scold it properly. Lexi smiled back, taking a liking to the large creature loving boy.

“It’s alright. I didn’t mean to fall asleep in the first place. Are you a first year?” The boy shook his head.

“Second. Name’s Ruebeus Hagrid.” He stuck out his pillow sized hand for her to shake and she took it, pleased to finally be speaking to a wizard so near her own age, even if he did look a bit odd. She gave her own name, remembering to include the fictitious backstory Tom had created for her. Unlike Orion Black, Rubeus Hagrid seemed to have no trouble accepting her tale as truth. He gave a sympathetic look.

“Sorry bout that. Just me and me dah. Don’ know what I’d do without ‘em.” The boy started to tear up then, wringing his massive hands, making Lexi feel both pity and awkward uncertainty on how to proceed. Perceiving her discomfort he apologized immediately, explaining how his father had taken very ill over the summer but had insisted on Ruebeus making it onto the Hogwarts express to be there for the start of term. Lexi truly couldn’t imagine what that felt like. She felt nothing but a vague sense of lonliness when she thought of the mother who had left her at the orphanage as an infant. The only thing she could possibly compare it to was what if something happened to Tom, but even that remained the vaguest of feelings because she truly could not imagine anything ever hurting Tom. In her mind, he was godlike, invincible. The thought that anything should ever happen to him seemed preposterous. Still, she understood that this boy was upset, so she attempted to comfort him, standing to offer him a gentle pat on the back. He wrapped her in a tight, bone crushing hug in response, before realizing he’d overstepped and apologizing once again, profusely. He was still stammering apologies when an old witch with a trolley cart appeared in the doorframe.

“Something from the cart, dearies?” she asked, smiling sadly when she noticed Hagrid.

“Don’t you worry, Ruebeus. I heard about your father’s illness, dear. You get yourself a snack and I won’t take a knut for it.”
Hagrid happily ordered some lunch and then asked the elder witch if he could get a snack for his friend as well. Lexi smiled. She supposed she now had two friends. Tom Riddle and Ruebeus Hagrid. Large, loud, and awkward Reubeus was so different from her Tom, but she was quickly growing to like him all the same. She couldn’t wait to introduce the two of them.

The two youngsters spent a lovely teatime together, feeding Truckie insects from Hagrid’s pockets and talking about Hagrid’s number one favorite subject, magical creatures.

“Care o’ magical creatures don’t start till third year but sometimes the professor’ll let first an’ second years play with his Puffskeins. They’re so cute and fluffy. Guessin’ yeh never seen one if yeh was raised by muggles.” She hadn’t, of course, but she had read about them. They did seem cute, but rather elementary. She was hoping to see something more impressive. A unicorn perhaps. These creatures in particular fascinated her and she was quite pleased when the wand that had paired with her in Olivander’s had a unicorn hair core.

“Aye, there’s some live in the forest. Student’s aren’t allowed in there though. Say it’s dangerous. But it ain’t really. Some of me best friends live there.”

“People live there?”

“Well, not human people, but yeh know, Centaurs, Unicorns, mooncalves, hippogriffs. All kinds o interestin’ folk.”

Lexi raised an eyebrow at the large boy calling unicorns and moon calves “folk,” but he didn’t seem to notice. She allowed him to jabber on about the different creatures he had seen while she enjoyed a cauldron cake. She couldn’t wait to get to Hogwarts. She’d ask Tom if he would go into the forest with her. If he was too busy though, perhaps sometime she and Ruebeus could go together. Better yet, perhaps they could all go together. Hogwarts was going to be so wonderful!

As Hagrid was going into a story about how his centaur friend had helped him pass his herbology exam by showing him how the plants grew in the wild within the forest, a shadow appeared in the doorway to the car. Lexi felt his presence before he made a sound, and felt, confusingly, his disapproval. As they made eye contact, Tom Riddle cleared his throat and Ruebeus jumped. He looked nervously at Tom’s shiny prefect badge and tried in vain to conceal a wriggling Truckie under his large palm.

“I don’t believe unsecured animals are allowed on the train. Why don’t you find your luggage and get that creature put away?”

Tom’s tone seemed cordial enough. His lips were even lifted into a smile, but it wasn’t a polite or cordial one. Though it may have looked that way to someone else, Lexi knew better. Tom disliked Ruebeus in the same way that he disliked the other children at the orphanage. But why? With the other orphans it was obvious, wasn’t it? They weren’t special like Tom and her so it made sense that he would take issue with them imagining that they were better than him in any way. Ruebeus wasn’t like them though. He was kind. And he was a wizard.

Ruebeus, for his part, knew he wasn’t wanted, so with one last look at Lexi, he made his way out like a scolded puppy with his tail between his legs. Tom shut the door, then stood staring at Lexi, hands on his hips with a disapproving scowl.

“Must I keep watch of you all the time? You were supposed to be sleeping, for Merlin’s sake!” Tom’s harsh, scolding tone stung. Should she apologize? No, Tom never cared for empty apologies. He’d expect to know how she planned to correct her mistake. That would be kind of hard though since she wasn’t even sure what she had done to earn this treatment in the first place. Tears started to well up in her eyes as she tried to make sense of it. She quickly wiped them away and tried to stop more from coming. She knew Tom hated it when she cried and she didn’t want to disappoint him any farther.

Tom sighed heavily and sank into the seat next to her. He’d taught her plenty about magic, but he’d clearly neglected to teach her about social hierarchy in the wizarding world. He’d seen the large boy before. A younger Gryffindor, he believed. Rumor had it he was half giant. Less than a nobody. Not a suitable companion for his Lexi. She was good enough at taking his lead when he was around so he’d never thought to instruct her on how to behave around others when he wasn’t. More work for him, piled onto an already busy school year. Well, he supposed he better get started.

“You’re a smart girl, Lexi, so you should learn quickly. Some wizards are better than others.” She furrowed her brow, trying to make sense of what he was saying.

“More powerful, you mean?”

“Yes, but power comes in many forms. Knowledge, magical prowess, wealth, social standing.” Lexi nodded and scooted closer attentive to Tom’s impromptu lecture, feeling more at ease in her comfortable role as his student. “That boy, which of those do you suppose he possesses?” Tom asked. She thought for a minute.

“He looks strong, right? I mean he’s big.” Tom rolled his eyes.

“Irrelevant. Try again.” Lexi couldn’t answer. Ruebeus hadn’t seemed particularly intelligent, he’d nearly failed his first year herbology exam before he got a centaur to tutor him. Judging by the state of his clothes he wasn’t wealthy. She had no way of knowing what kind of social standing he had. She’d just met him after all. What kind of answer could Tom be looking for here?

“Well, he’s good with creatures, you know.” Jealousy stung in Tom’s chest, hearing Lexi compliment someone else’s abilities, but he chose to keep that to himself.

“Trick question. The answer is none. Other students think he’s weird. No money, no family background.”

“But Tom, we don’t really have those either,” she observed. The apparent accuracy of her observation irritated him, but she was wrong. He didn’t have much money or power yet, but he had talent. He had wit. He had cunning. And he was growing his social status as he went. This year he aimed to add lineage to the list as well.

“You’re wrong,” he chided. “We have potential he could never hope for, and the intelligence to seize power. Don’t be so foolish as to lack the will to do so.”

“Tom, he was nice though,” she protested, wanting to somehow defend her new friend that her beloved seemed to think so little of. Tom sighed. She was so naïve. She just didn’t get it yet. This required a different approach. He turned to her, taking her hands in his.

“Lexi, you think me intelligent don’t you?”

“Of course! The smartest and the cleverest. I’m sure everyone knows it.” She responded emphatically, not needing a moment to consider. This pleased him, and soothed the sting of jealously he’d felt earlier, at least a little.

“And you trust me, don’t you?” She nodded and he rewarded her with a kiss on the cheek that gave the young schoolgirl goosebumps.

“Then trust that I know what’s best for us and allow me to choose the right friends for you, until you learn to do so for yourself.” She nodded again. How could she say no? He was clever, and she did trust him, and more than anything she wanted to please him. Ruebeus was nice. She really did like him. But there were more important things. Most important to her was Tom. She still didn’t understand why, but if he didn't wish her to be friends with someone then she wouldn’t be. It was a pity though. She hoped she could find some way to change his mind.

The train began to slow as Hogsmeade village came into view. They would be arriving at Hogwarts soon. This meant Tom had more prefect duties, but this time he could take Lexi along. He took her arm and led her out. “First years,” he called. “We’re now arriving. Head towards the front!”

Chapter Text

“Slytherin? Are you sure? You’ve got a bit of cunning in you, true enough, but have you considered Ravenclaw? You’re studious. You’d fit in well there.” The ancient enchanted hat on Lexi’s head mulled through her thoughts, considering which of the four houses she should be placed in. For many students their place was obvious, and the sorting hat could call it before it was even fully placed. For others, the choice was less clear. Either they possessed characteristics that would help them fit into many different houses, or the student already had some idea in mind but the hat wanted to be sure that they had thought through their options. Lexi was the later. She was begging for Slytherin with every fiber of her being, but it was also clear to the sorting hat why she had made the request. A boy. Her eyes were glued to a Slytherin prefect, a handsome and dark minded boy the hat had sorted into Slytherin four years earlier. It wasn’t uncommon for a child to request a house based on the placement of a sibling, a friend, or a crush. Often, the hat honored these requests. After all, it was quite telling about a student, the people whom they considered important to them.

“Slytherin, please. Tom said Slytherin,” Lexi wasn’t sure whether she had whispered or merely thought this, but the hat heard her words and responded.

“A loyal friend, are you? Then perhaps Hufflepuff?” She shook her head.

“No. It has to be Slytherin.”

“Then so it shall be. Slytherin!” The hat spoke this response loudly, and applause erupted under the green and silver banner where Tom Riddle stood silently smiling his approval. Lexi practically ran to his side and threw her arms around him. He gave her a quick squeeze before allowing her to be overtaken by his followers.

“Well done, Romania,” Abraxas Malfoy quipped, patting her on the back. “See now, Orion? There should be no more doubt she’s our kind now,” Walburga chattered, throwing her arms around the younger girl. Orion glanced at her and then to Tom nervously.

“Of course, dear. Of course.” He offered his hand and Lexi shook it.

“Prince, Eileen,” Professor Dumbledore read from the scroll as the clamor died down. A pale, thin, and sullen looking girl walked up to the stool where the hat rested.

“Prince, did he say? That will be a Slytherin,” Abraxas whispered to the others with authority. Tom’s entourage nodded to each other knowingly, leaving a confused Lexi looking to Tom for clarification.

Blood lineage. She heard Tom’s voice speak these words into her mind. Yes, she had read that pureblood witches and wizards were often sorted into Slytherin, and some families, such as the Malfoys and Blacks, had histories going back for centuries with their house. And yet, here she and Tom were, with no idea who their parents were.

“Slytherin,” the hat called, sounding almost bored. The girl walked over quietly, awkwardly shrugging off the congratulatory pats that followed her. Lexi smiled shyly at her new housemate who seemed to be doing her best not to make eye contact with anyone else.

At the feast, Lexi had hoped to sit next to Tom but with Abraxas on his left and Orion on his right, and seemingly every Slytherin upperclassman clamoring to be near him, she ended up sitting and sulking between Walburga and the Prince girl.

“Oh, Romania, are you pouting?” Walburga teased, finding the younger girl’s soured mood endearing.

“ ‘m not,” huffed Lexi, staring jealous daggers into Abraxas’ forehead.

“You’re so cute. No wonder Tom adores you. But we have rules here, and you have to earn a place next to our prefect.”

Earn? She huffed again. Tom might have warned her if that was the case. She had of course assumed that they’d be inseparable at Hogwarts, just as they’d always been at the orphanage. What was she to do with herself while he was busy? All her books were in her trunk, leaving her nothing to do. She looked around the great hall, and observed Ruebeus Hagrid at the Gryffindor table. He sat at the end, taking up enough space for three average sized students, and was not very discreetly shoving large chunks of meat under the table to the delight of a spotted kneazle resting near his huge feet. Lexi giggled at the spectacle. Hearing her voice, Hagrid looked up, and their eyes met, but Lexi quickly looked away. Tom had forbidden her to befriend the friendly giant. He required her to make the right kind of friends. She’d agreed to leave that up to him but for now, that left her feeling lonely.

“Don’t worry,” Walberga said. “From what we’ve all heard, you’re rather talented. Slughorn will snatch you up in no time, and the best part of Hogwarts for one such as you is you’ll be sure to find an eligible bachelor of good stock before you graduate. Mother says that’s the true reason young witches come here. The spellwork is simply incidental.” At this, the older girl laughed as if she’d told a clever joke, but Lexi didn’t get it. She continued to pout staring a hole into her plate.

“Hey. Do you play gobstones?” The sullen looking Prince girl had leaned closer to Lexi and spoke without looking at her.

“I know how, but I don’t have any,” Lexi responded. Well, in theory she knew how anyway. At this the girl gave a thin smile.

“I’ve got extra. If you’re tired of sitting here lets go ahead and find our dorms and we can play.” Lexi, not wishing to displease Tom again decided that this time she’d check with him first. She didn’t want to go making the wrong sort of friend again, whatever that meant. She got up and walked over to him.

Tom had been discussing some plans with his followers when he felt Lexi approaching him. He stopped midsentence and turned towards her, causing the others to do the same, curious about the first year who would approach Tom Riddle so boldly.

“Can I go to the dorms now and play gobstones with Eileen Prince?” Tom smiled. Perhaps she wasn’t completely clueless on getting to know the right sort of people after all. He glanced over in the direction of the other first year giving her a quick assessment. Eileen Prince didn’t seem to be particularly attractive or charismatic but the name Prince bore a certain prestige with it’s pureblood lineage. She’d do.

“Tell Walburga to show you the way.” He took her hand and then added telepathically, ‘I’ll see you tonight.” Lexi felt much better as she walked back over to Eileen. She’d still be spending time with Tom and she’d make new friends too. Hogwarts would be a lovely place.

At the teacher’s table, Professor Dumbledore watched the young girl walking away from Tom Riddle, back towards another first year. She was still clearly as in awe of Tom Riddle as she had been when he’d seen her last over a year ago. Now that she was here, however, there was a chance to work at breaking the spell of Tom’s domineering influence over her. Making new friends was a good start. Good relationships with teachers would be next. He'd start on that tommorrow. It wasn't too late to save the little girl just yet.

Chapter Text

After hours of performing as a model student, fulfilling his duties as a highly visible and conscientious prefect, impressing the right professors, charming the right students, Tom Riddle was finally alone as he entered the Slytherin common room for the final time tonight. That’s how he liked it best, no distractions to keep him from his personal studies and pursuits.

He had promised Lexi he’d see her this evening as well, but by the time he’d made it up, she had already fallen asleep in an armchair next to the fire, a copy of “Fantastic Beasts” open in her lap. He smiled, pleased that she had been using her time wisely. He considered waking her then, shooing her into the Slytherin girl’s dormitory as he’d have done any other first year he may have found there, but he stopped himself. She’d want to talk about her first day at Hogwarts, would probably prattle on as if she could have possibly experienced anything in the past 12 or so hours that he hadn’t already in his four previous years here. He’d had enough idle chatter from the other students tonight. He could tell her to shut up, and she would, but then she’d get that irritating scolded puppy look, her bottom lip quivering slightly in that maddening way that gave him that little pinprick sensation in his chest. No. Best to avoid that. He had a lot of reading to catch up on after all. But he couldn’t have her getting sick either. She’d be even more irritating suffering from a cold.

“Accio blanket,” he whispered, gesturing with his wand to wrap a green and silver Afghan knitted blanket around her.

“Tom,” she murmured his name and he froze to look at her for a moment, but he knew she wasn’t really awake.

His breathing grew shallow as he checked his surroundings, making sure that no one else was around them. Maybe he should try practicing his Legilimency skills on her again. A ghost of that unsettling feeling he had felt while in her mind last night began to creep in but he pushed it away. He was far too busy for this nonsense. He had so much reading to do.

Safe in the folds of his own four poster, curtains drawn, the Slytherin prefect pulled out the tome he had chosen to peruse tonight: some genealogy records of the pureblood wizarding families within the United Kingdom. He had chosen this volume in hopes of killing two chasers with one bludger. It could be of use to him in search of his own lineage, but could also help point him in the direction of Lexi’s mother as well. He opened to the table of contents, browsing over wizarding surnames, many familiar, some not so much, until one in Particular caught his eye: Slytherin.

Salazar Slytherin, the greatest of the four founders of Hogwarts, had been of particular interest to Tom since he was a first year, not the least of which because he had found himself in the cunning and ambitious wizard’s namesake house, but also because of the promise of power the name held. Salazar Slytherin had been a parseltongue, a wizard who could speak with snakes, just like him, a very rare and mostly hereditary talent, he had read, lending farther credence to his theory that he had descended from powerful wizards. If only he could prove it. He sighed as he turned to the chapter on Slytherin’s descendants. There, his eye fell on something familiar.

“Last known living relative at the time this book was written: Marvolo Gaunt, son of M. L. Gaunt (deceased), current address not listed in the English Common Wizard’s Directory.”

Marvolo. His own middle name. He had heard the stories from the matrons at the orphanage many times. Named Tom and Riddle after his father. Middle name, Marvolo, after his mother’s father. For years, that had been all he’d known about his family, and he’d never given his mother’s family a second thought as he’d always assumed she’d never allow herself to succumb to death as she had, had she been a witch. But here it was. Marvolo Gaunt. The name of his grandfather. Not only was he of wizarding blood, but descended from one of the greatest and most powerful wizards of all time. He’d known. Somehow he’d always known he was destined for greatness through the blood of his ancestors. Now he had proof.

That also meant that he would be able to open the Chamber of Secrets once he found it without a doubt. That would be his next goal. Tom leaned back on his pillow, grinning from ear to ear as he thought about the implications, indulging in just a little daydreaming.

A sudden rustling outside his curtains caused Tom to startle, snatching his wand and crouching defensively, pointing it in the direction of the noise.

He felt her presence then and scolded himself for getting startled over nothing. Using his mind’s eye to determine her positioning, he quickly and quietly untied the sash and grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her into the interior of his own four poster. He quickly clamped his other hand over her mouth to muffle any screaming until she realized she was safe.

“Any particular reason you’re in the boy’s dormitory?” Tom whispered. Lexi relaxed and he let go of her, retying the sash to conceal them both inside.

Lexi shrugged sheepishly. She wasn’t really sure how she had ended up here. She had woken up alone in the Common room and had felt … something. She wasn’t sure what it was really. The fire had flickered a strange green but then turned back to red orange when she rubbed her eyes. Half asleep, she reached out subconsciously for Tom’s presence, and she felt it nearby, but it felt different somehow. He was … happy. More than happy. As joyous as she’d ever felt her quick tempered idol. The feeling was intoxicating. Before she even realized what she was doing she had sought him out, ending up just outside his bed.
Tom sat cross legged with his arms folded over his chest, impatiently but with only a mildly annoyed expression drumming his fingers on his arm as he stared at the younger witch.

“Well?”

“I … felt you,” Lexi responded, grasping for the right words to explain what had happened.

“Well, you’re stuck here now, aren’t you? I can’t risk boys seeing you leave the boy’s dormitory. Terrible for your reputation, and it’s only your first day.”

At first, Lexi didn’t understand what he meant by that. She’d often slept in Tom’s room at the orphanage and it’d never been a problem. Sure, the matrons had whispered some stupid things about impropriety. How girls ought not go into boy’s rooms. How girls of a certain age ought not be overly familiar with boys. But she’d never cared and she thought Tom hadn’t either. Was she wrong? Boys might begin to think certain things about a girl who would do so, they said … But what sort of things? She couldn’t really imagine what they were inferring. Unless … the scene from the picture show where Heathcliff had kissed Cathy in a bed not unlike this one flashed in her brain. Lexi blushed, suddenly feeling rather self conscious.

“Don’t worry. No one else is stupid enough to try to look in my bed curtains. You’re safe from prying eyes here, and if you need something to take your mind off of it, here,” He slid the book into her lap, open to the sentence about Marvolo Gaunt. When she read it, Lexi squealed, loud enough for Tom to put his hand over her mouth again.

Quiet! He scolded mentally, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at her enthusiastic response.

“Oh, Tom!” she replied, remembering to whisper this time. “So this means …”
He nodded, then reached under his bed to retrieve a few books, a biography on Slytherin, and Hogwarts, a History.

“Let’s get to work, shall we?”

Just like at the orphanage, Lexi finally fell asleep next to him studying, and just like at the orphanage, he didn’t send her back to her own bed. That was one of the few things from that god awful place that he really hadn’t minded so much. In the morning he’d see her out properly before anyone saw her. For now he laid next to her and indulged in daydreaming about the chamber of secrets again. When he fell asleep he had a strange dream that he transformed Lexi into a little python that could curl next to him every night with no one thinking anything of it. Though curious, it wasn’t altogether unpleasant. When he awoke, he made sure the boys dorm and the common room were clear so he could send Lexi out. It was time for him to return to his model student role. He dressed, groomed himself and put on that persona.

“Wake up Slytherins. Day two of term starts now and it’s to be one amazing year!”

Back in the girl’s dorm, Eileen Prince opened one eye to eye Lexi slipping into the unrumpled bed next to hers.

“You sleep in the common room all night?” she asked with a yawn.

“Oh! Um, yes. I did.” replied Lexi, a scarlet flush spreading across her cheeks.

“Youre lying but okay, not my business,” she muttered. Lexi said nothing in reply.

Chapter Text

By October, Lexi had settled into a routine in her new life as a Hogwarts student. First every morning was to wake up before and try to avoid Walburga Black while getting ready. The older girl seemed to have taken a liking to Lexi and fussed over her appearance with all the vigor of a domineering mother hen.

“Oh, Romania,” (the nickname seemed to have stuck) she’d chatter as she braided the first year’s hair, “You’re a lovely girl, really, but you really must attend to your appearance better if we’re going to catch a proper suitor for you. Did no one ever teach you to braid your own hair?” Actually, they hadn’t. The overworked matrons with dozens of other children to look after hadn’t bothered to teach a strange and solitary little girl such things. Growing up, she’d brushed her hair when she had to and on a few rare intimate occasions, Tom had insisted on doing it for her, but never before had she worn her hair any way but hanging straight down. She had to admit that the result of Walburga’s work was impressive. On the first day she’d done it, Lexi spent more than a few extra minutes admiring herself in the mirror, and had Tom shown even the slightest indication that he’d liked the change in her appearance, then she would have gladly tolerated it daily. But Tom Riddle cared nothing for a young witch’s appearance. After all, what use was that to him? So Lexi did her best to avoid Walburga in the mornings so as to avoid the inevitable fussy hair styling, cloak smoothing, skirt creasing, and whatever else she thought a young witch ought to do to her appearance to catch the interest of a suitor. Even if that young witch was only a first year.

“Never too early to make a good impression,” Walburga had insisted when Lexi had met her with this protest.
Tom insisted that Lexi be polite to Walburga, that she was the right type of friend due to her familial connections, but he did concede that she was boring and dull with her obsessions with matchmaking and school romance.

Once she had dodged or was released by Walburga, Lexi would meet up with Eileen who was usually playing gobstones in the courtyard, and the two would walk to breakfast together.
Tom was usually already there, surrounded by a group of fawning upperclass Slytherin boys. She and Tom usually had little time to spend together during the days, but they still studied together several nights a week. After other students had gone to sleep he’d use his growing legilimency skills to summon her to him, usually to the prefect bathroom where he knew they were unlikely to be disturbed, and they’d study themselves to exhaustion. Lexi liked that. She felt useful. Special.

It wasn’t like at the orphanage though, where she’d chatter away and Tom would listen indulgently. At Hogwarts, ever since the first night, it had been nonstop work with Tom. Mostly reading, finding and recording every tidbit of information they could about Salazar Slytherin and his Chamber of Secrets. She didn’t complain. She knew that finding the chamber was important to Tom and to his goal of becoming the most powerful wizard, but it didn’t take long for the two of them together to read every book in the library about the Hogwarts founder. Lexi began to grow bored with the material, while Tom grew increasingly obsessive and frustrated, certain that there was some crucial tidbit that they were overlooking. During the day, when she watched him smiling and laughing with his followers, she could hardly tell, but she knew that at night he would be broody, distracted, and snappy with little time for the interests and concerns of a first year.

“Who cares what Tom Riddle thinks?” Eileen would say when Lexi would whine about the lack of his attention.
“Literally everyone.” Lexi would respond, giving her dorm mate a dirty look. This was the only point of contention between the two girls. They had become easy friends. Perhaps Lexi liked Eileen because her sarcasm and aloofness reminded her somewhat of Tom, but where Tom was magnetic, always in the spotlight, Eileen seemed to actively avoid attention, and preferred the company of her few friends. Lexi had to admit that she felt special somehow to be admitted amongst them, just as she felt special to be noticed by Tom but in truth just having friends at all meant everything to Lexi.

Tom’s tutoring over the past two years had come in handy in her classes. Despite staying up late and neglecting her own homework to spend what time she could with Tom, she still had good marks in most of her classes, the exceptions being Astronomy and flying lessons , the first because star charts bored and confused her, the second because the ancient practice brooms the first years got to use seemed to enjoy coming up with new ways to whack her in the head.
Her best subjects were potions and transfiguration.

Potions, she found fascinating, and between Eileen who was a talented potions brewer, and Tom, who was talented with everything, she had garnered an invite to the upcoming Slug Club after Professor Slughorn declared the Wiggenweld potion that she and Eileen had brewed together to be the most potent he’d seen a first year brew in his entire teaching career. Eileen declined the invitation, but Lexi accepted, eager for the opportunity to spend more time with Tom. Eileen was fairly certain that Tom was the real reason they were invited.

“Our potion was good, but not that good,” she pointed out, and Slughorn , who considered Tom Riddle one of his crown jewels would want to reap the benefits of familiarity with students the star Slytherin Riddle deemed worthy of association. Lexi didn’t care if that was the case. An opportunity to spend time around Tom and maybe show herself distinguished enough to sit with him at lunch was all she saw in the situation.

“You’ve got problems, kid. Your obsession with Riddle is just unhealthy,” Eileen observed, and it was hard to tell whether or not she was joking, so Lexi shrugged it off as a joke.

“Unhealthy? Well good thing I can brew Wiggenweld. Should we work on pepperup next? ” But Eileen didn’t laugh.

In transfiguration, Dumbledore seemed to have taken a special liking to Lexi, praising her efforts often, and frequently calling on her to be an example for the class. Lexi thrived under the praise and positive attention, finding herself wanting to work hard to improve her form and technique.

Tom didn’t like Dumbledore. She knew that. But she could hardly see what was wrong with him. That made two people now that she wasn’t allowed to like, even though she did, very much.
From time to time she’d still see Ruebeus Hagrid around the school. He was rather difficult to miss, after all. He was ridiculously clumsy, and certainly not the best or brightest student, but he always seemed so jolly, despite how he must have been worrying about his father’s illness, and so incredibly kind to every creature he came across. She’d smile at him sometimes, when no one was looking, but she hadn’t dared to speak with him again. Although she just might if Tom didn’t start paying more attention to her, she told herself.

But that was sure to change tonight. Tonight was her first meeting with the Slug Club.
She proudly announced it to Tom and he rewarded her with a wide smile as he ruffled her hair.

“Good work. Get Walburga to braid your hair for it, then. That’s a good look on you and you’ll want to make a good impression.” Lexi blushed. So he had noticed her hair after all.

“Tom?” she almost whispered his name, thinking she would try her luck, but bracing herself for a cold blow of rejection. “Shall we go together? To Slug Club, I mean?”

Tom shrugged. “I don’t see why not.” She squealed happily as she ran off to find Eileen.

Chapter Text

In a flurry of robes and stringy dark hair, Lexi Monroe ran as fast as she could up to the main courtyard, skipping steps on the staircase, stumbling more than once in her excitement, but barely caring as she raced to find her friend and deliver her news. She was finally going to get to spend more time with Tom during the day. She knew Eileen’s reaction to the news would probably be less than enthusiastic but she needed to share her elation with someone or she would absolutely burst so who else should she tell but her best girl friend? She’d listen at least, and be happy for her, whether or not she realized how much of a big deal it was that Tom said yes. Then Eileen could help her plan her moves throughout the event, how to best impress Tom and Slughorn, how to gain the respect of the upperclassmen so to be more frequently admitted amongst them. Perhaps she could even convince Eileen to spend more time with them as well. They’d easily accept a daughter of the Prince family if she’d have them. Daydreams of a charmed life at Hogwarts where she was always at Tom’s side and surrounded by the warmth and love of her friends were a magnificent indulgence as she burst into the courtyard, all but out of breath, but somehow managed to squeal her friend’s name.

“Leeeny! Leeeeeeny! Guess what?! Tom said-” The first year stopped abruptly when she realized that her friend was not in her usual spot in the courtyard. Instead, it was empty save for a solitary student with a familiar hulking form.

“Oh. Um, sorry. I was looking for my friend,” Lexi began to back out as Ruebeus Hagrid looked up at her.

He was the most pitiful sight that she had ever seen. His entire face was red, his eyes swollen from the tears that were still falling , his runny nose trailing down his chin. It was the same face she had secretly smiled at countless times over the past month and a half, but just now it held only the ghost of the jolly giant with the hearty laugh and twinkling eyes that she had grown used to seeing from afar. Lexi’s heart ached. She knew Tom had advised her not to talk to him, but how could she be so cruel to someone this miserable?

“Rubeus? Are you alright?” It sounded stupid. Of course he wasn’t alright, but she didn’t know what else to say. He looked at her with anguished eyes, unable to speak and handed her a tear soaked letter from his pocket. Not knowing what else to do, she took it in her hands, and began to read.

Dear Mr. Hagrid:

I regret that this letter does not find you with better news. As you know, your father has been visiting St. Mungos for outpatient services over the past month as we monitor the progression of his illness. This past week, after he missed his appointment, I made a house call to find that his illness has progressed to the point that he is no longer able to care for himself. I moved him to a bed at Mungo’s posthaste, but he has continued to deteriorate daily and I fear he may not have much time left. At this time, he is too unwell to write you himself, so I have written to you as well as to Headmaster Dippet. Between the two of you, you may decide what’s best, but should you wish to visit, I recommend coming as soon as possible as I am unsure of whether Mr. Hagrid Sr. will survive to the Christmas Holiday. Please write with your intentions as soon as possible. I will do my best to keep your father comfortable.

Regretfully Yours,
Dr. Margauritte Abbot.

Lexi looked back up at the giant boy, her own eyes beginning to tear up. How awful he must feel. Instinctively, the young girl put her arms as far around the large boy as she could manage.
“Oh Ruebeus, I’m so sorry,” she murmured, and she was, sorry for the pain and loss he must be feeling, and sorry that she had spent her time ignoring this boy who could have really used a friend to talk to over the past few months.
He returned her embrace and the two stood together, crying wordlessly.

“Get your filthy hands off our Romania or I will hex them off for you” A familiar voice spat with unfamiliar vitrol. Ruebeus jumped away from her and they both looked up to see Abraxas Malfoy glaring hatefully at the young Gryffindor boy.

Lexi froze. Anything Abraxas saw would certainly be reported to Tom and Tom wouldn’t be happy to know she had been so familiar with Ruebeus , but she was sure Tom could forgive her given the circumstances. However, the look Abraxas was giving Hagrid was more than the cruel disdain Tom had looked at him with. It was a deeper hatred of a dark kind she didn’t understand that turned her stomach.

With wand drawn, the blonde upperclassman stalked towards Ruebeus, who despite being larger and taller backed away with wide fearful eyes.

“What were you doing to that little girl, you beast? Are you really so low as to put your filthy perverted hands on a child in public?”
What? Did Abraxas think Ruebeus was doing something to her? Hurting her?

“Abraxas, wait, please!” she grabbed his wand arm and Hagrid fled, bolting out of the courtyard and away from the Slytherins with a speed Lexi’d have never guessed he possessed. Abraxas then put his wand away and turned to her, his face morphing into a look of Concern that starkly contrasted with the look of hatred she had seen just a moment ago.

“Are you alright, Romania? Did that mongrel hurt you?” She shook her head and he let out a sigh of relief. “I cant believe they let a creature like that into the school in the first place. Filthy halfbreed. Barely more than a beast.” He placed a gentle brotherly arm around her shoulders. “You should be more careful. Riddle would kill me if something happened to you.”
She tried to explain that Hagrid hadn’t done anything, that she had merely given a friendly hug because he was crying, but Abraxas wouldn’t hear it. He continued his brotherly scolding while leading her back towards the common room.

Panic began to wash over Lexi. Abraxas was taking her to tell Tom what happened. Or rather what he thought happened. She remembered all too well how Tom had reacted to the last person who had hurt her. Ruebeus Hagrid was nothing like the Mitchells. He didn’t deserve to be hurt like that. And here at Hogwarts, with followers to impress, perhaps the punishment would be even worse. She had to think of something fast to convince Abraxas not to tell Tom. She dug her heels into the flagstone flooring causing her and Abraxas to stop in the corridor.

“Abraxas, can you do me a favor?” she asked, putting on her sweetest little girl voice that she used to use to get favors from some of the matrons at the orphanage. The elder Slytherin eyed her with curiosity.

“You said you’d get in trouble with Tom if I got hurt, right?” He nodded, confirming it was more than just a passing comment. She continued.

“I’d also get in trouble for putting myself at risk, right? But I’m okay. So we can keep it a secret and neither of us has to upset Tom.” Abraxas considered for a moment and then smiled appreciatively.

“Fine. It’s settled then.”

Tom felt Lexi’s presence as she approached along with Abraxas Malfoy. He also sensed a change in her emotional state. What was it? Fear? Of what? She’d hardly been gone long enough to get herself into any trouble. His anger began to well up immediately in response. He’d told her time and again that fear was weak, but more importantly, surely no one at Hogwarts was stupid enough to threaten or intimidate one so clearly under his protection. If they were, they would pay dearly. He’d make sure of it.

When they entered the common room, Tom looked up from the desk where he had been sitting, his face a mask of cool disinterest. He casually greeted his two most loyal followers, careful to appear nonchalant.

“Did you find Prince, Lexi?” he asked.

Think of anything but Ruebeus,she told herself, worried that Tom might read her mind and perceive events in the same way as Abraxas. She thought instead of Eileen, wondering aloud where she could have gotten to. Of her potions homework. Of her essay on Merlin for History of Magic. Of her upcoming defence against the dark arts test. Anything else.

Tom sensed that Lexi was hiding something from him and he didn’t like that, but a casual sweep of her thoughts produced nothing. Just a general sense of anxiety. Something about schoolwork? That didn’t make much sense though. His Lexi was fairly confident in her studies in most subjects. As she should be. He’d tutored her himself after all. Perhaps it was the Slug Club she was concerned about. She shouldn’t be. He’d even said he’d accompany her. She’d do fine at his side. She always did. Tom furrowed his brow, perplexed, and he caught an errant thought of hers about how gorgeous he looked when he was thinking. Then another wave of anxiety.

Wait. Is that what this was? Foolish, girlish nonsense, pining over him? Well that was of little concern then, though perhaps he was doing them both a disservice by having her spend any time with someone as empty headed as Walburga.

Speak of the devil. Walburga and Orion Black came walking out of the boy’s dorm just then, both looking rather flushed and disheveled. Walburga had the grace to look embarrassed when she saw the group in the common room and was going to flee to her own dorm but Tom, stopped her. May as well use a resource for what it was. Regardless of his estimation of its intelligence.

“Walburga.” He called her name and she froze in place.

“We- I thought you’d all be at breakfast by now.” She stammered. “I was just helping Orion to um-”

“To find my Arithmancy book.” Orion supplied helpfully. Abraxas coughed to hide a snicker, and Tom rolled his eyes.

“I have no interest in that but you’ll be pleased to learn that our Lexi has made it into the Slug Club.” With social engagements to focus on, Walburga quickly forgot about her embarrassment. She clapped her hands.

“Oh! Well done, Romania!”

“So of course you’ll see to it that she’s presentable today.” It was an order, but one Tom was so certain would be followed he didn’t have to ask or demand. It stayed as a mere statement.
“Of course!”
Walburga Black took Lexi’s arm and led her back into the girl’s dormitory. Lexi had never been happier to get away from Tom or to play Walburga’s dressup dolly.
She had managed not to let Tom see any thoughts of Ruebeus so that was a relief, but now that the immediate danger had passed, she couldn’t help but ruminate on poor Ruebeus Hagrid’s situation. She had heard that wizards had very few incurable diseases these days as magic was able to cure most of them. What must it be like to be Hagrid? To know that he was just so unlucky to have his father irreparably I’ll despite being in the care of the best healers in the magical world. It’s not like there was anything that she, a first year Hogwarts student could do to help, but that didn’t stop her from feeling bad for him. She couldn’t be friends with him. It wasn’t even just that Tom said they couldn’t. The wrong word from Abraxas or another of Tom’s followers and he could actually get hurt. She couldn’t be the cause of that. But that meant that she couldn’t encourage or comfort him as she wished she could, and that she couldn’t even try to help him find a cure for his father.
“You’re awfully sullen for a little orphan whose been given such a big honor, and opportunity” Walburga scolded the younger girl for not matching her enthusiasm. Lexi offered a halfhearted smile and agreement. Walburga was right. She should try to feel happier. After all, she was going to get to spend more time with Tom and nothing in the world had ever made her happier than that.
“Will you do the pigtail braids, Walburga? Tom likes them.” Walburga smiled knowingly.
“You little minx! You fancy him, don’t you?”
Lexi sighed. Fancy didn’t begin to describe what she felt for Tom but she guessed you could call it that. Walburga patted her head in a patronizing elder sister sort of way.
“Well you’re a bit young for him, but one day perhaps.”
Yes. One day. But today she had to prove her worth. She did her best not to think of Ruebeus anymore, paint on a smile, and prepare for the day ahead.

Chapter Text

Tom Riddle walked around Lexi, checking over her appearance to ensure that she was immaculate before they walked to Slug Club together. She had managed to keep her hair and clothes tidy throughout the day. Good. Walburga had given her the pigtail braids that so perfectly framed her face and after classes had touched up not only her hair but had used just the slightest bit of makeup, a little color to her lips and cheeks. A bit more than girls her age typically wore, but as she was the only first year to attend Slug Club as of yet this year, perhaps it would be to her advantage to appear a bit older so that the other attendees didn’t discount her abilities due to age.

He did have to admit that it was a good look on her, objectively speaking of course, because the Heir of Slytherin had no interests in such things, but it did concern him that other boys from other houses might get the wrong idea about her. Contrary to Walburga’s and many other students’ personal beliefs, Slug Club was not a dating service. Rather it was a good place to build ones reputation, make good connections, and test ones mettle against any potential competition. Tom used it as a means to show his intellectual dominance over the other students. With Lexi he intended to show that even his followers were superior to everyone else. So perhaps it was better if she looked her age, to better show her off as his prodigy.

“Let’s wash your face before we go,” he commanded, so used to her automatic obedience that he was caught off guard when this was met with surprising resistance from his little protégée. She stuck out her bottom lip and crossed her arms.

“I’d rather not. Besides, Walburga said you’d like it.” Tom scoffed.

“Walburga is an empty headed git,” he hissed at her. He saw the wounded look on her face for the briefest of moments which she quickly blinked away. His stomach lurched slightly then rose in anger. He was not going to tolerate this kind of defiance from her. Should he punish her? What was she hoping to gain by disobeying him now over such a simple demand? His little Lexi, always so quick to obey, even anticipate his whims. What had gotten into her?

He thought of her anxiety earlier, and her hurt look just now, and he thought he had an answer. She was a good follower but she was still a young girl, no matter how smart she was, how well he had trained her over the past two years. Those annoying girlish feelings. Crushes, girls called them. Ironic as that’s what he would do to any stupid young witch who dared to bare her weak foolish twitterings to him. But his Lexi, she was far too useful to him. What would he gain by crushing her so? He’d indulged her a bit in the past, knowing his handsome face and his soft words made it easy to get what he wanted. He’d train her to be better soon. But for now, there were more expedient ways to gain obedience. He smiled at her and gently stroked her face. Her cheek was soft and warm and he found himself unconsciously repeating the action as he spoke to her.

“Girls want someone to think they’re pretty don’t they?” She blushed deeper than the pink rouge on her cheeks could hide, and her face warmed hotter. He had her. “You are, you know. Girls like Walburga wear this stuff because they need it. But you? I’ve always liked your face as is.” It wasn’t a lie, that last bit, which made it all the more easy to sell. And Lexi? Any resolve she’d had to defy him seemed to melt away under his touch. He cupped her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. She’d do anything for him now. He felt… powerful. “Now my dear, put away that pout, and go wash off those silly colors so I can see you as I like you best tonight.”

A part of Lexi wanted to resist. She knew he was flattering her to get his way. She’d seen him do it before. To the matrons at the orphanage, to teachers here at Hogwarts. She wanted to argue, to descent in some way, but once he touched her she couldn’t think about anything else. She had felt numb earlier, trying not to think about Hagrid and be what everyone expected of her. When Eileen had asked her what was wrong she said nothing and smiled, and it wasn’t actually a lie because she had pushed all the bad feelings she’d had earlier away and was only thinking about what she ought to do for Slug Club.

Then Walburga had done her makeup. She liked the way it looked, thought it made her look grownup. When Tom had told her to take it off she found her own desires surprisingly at odds with his for the moment. But now? Tom had called her pretty, not just good, smart, sweet, talented, his usual praises, but pretty. And the feeling of warmth from the touch of his hands radiated electrically through her entire being. Such a deeply intoxicating feeling. If Tom thought she was pretty without makeup and asked her to take it off, then of course she’d do as he asked. Anything to get to continue to feel this.

“Okay,” she managed to croak. A wide genuine grin spread across the prefect’s face. He’d won. This little battle of wills was over. She’d submitted to him and he hadn’t needed to so much as raise his voice to her. Would it be this easy with any girl, or only one so near perfect as his Lexi?

“There now, much better,” he cooed from just behind her as she looked in the mirror next to the basin at her freshly washed face. “Tonight they’ll all see how well I’ve taught you. Impress the Slug Club, and I’ll have you sit next to me at breakfast in the morning.”

“Tell me what I need to do.” She responded and her eyes focused, waiting for his instruction.

“In terms of intellect and study you’re well prepared. Socially speaking, you need only follow my lead which will be easy as I’ll be right next to you the entire time.”

The future dark lord took the girl’s hand in his own, and began leading her towards the potions room where the meeting was to be held, feeling even more self assured than usual with his little protégée on his arm.

Chapter Text

Tom and Lexi were the first students to arrive at the potion master’s office for the Slug Club meeting that evening. Stop. Tom commanded wordlessly as they neared the partially shut door, holding a finger to his lips, signaling for his young companion to remain quiet so that they could listen to the voices inside.

“Oh, right, the half giant. Well, to be honest, Albus, I don’t think he’s bright enough to pass my exam if I don’t send him at least some homework while he’s on leave but I’ll do whatever you think is best.”

“The boy’s father is dying, Horace!”

“Alright, calm down, Albus. I’ll mark him exempt until after the Christmas Holiday and we’ll take it from there.” Tom raised an eyebrow, intrigued at hearing new and possibly valuable information. His curiosity piqued, he wondered what was going on. Lexi, on the other hand, already knew. Her stomach lurched as she was again reminded of poor Ruebeus Hagrid, but she quickly tried to push the feeling down, so as not to alert Tom. Luckily, Tom was more focused on his least favorite professor who was thanking Professor Slughorn and opening the door to reveal the two Slytherin students just outside.

Dumbledore smiled at the two students, keeping his gaze on the first year girl rather than the prefect who was used to being the center of attention.

“Ms. Monroe, you’re looking lovely this evening. Did Ms. Black style your hair for you again?” Lexi smiled weakly at the transfiguration professor and nodded.

“She did, sir. Thank you,” she replied. Dumbledore always noticed things like that. He was so nice. She wished Tom didn’t dislike him so much. Beside her, Tom felt rage pour into him like a broken levee. Tom was sure Dumbledore was purposefully ignoring him and complimenting HIS Lexi just to have a go at him. One of these days he’d crucio that ugly sod right in front of her. See how nice and charming she found him then. Lexi felt Tom’s anger and knew she’d better move along. “Well, we have Slug Club so …” she muttered, casting her eyes to the ground. Tom slipped an arm around her shoulder, both rewarding her obedience and staking a visible claim on his protégé to ward off the interloper. Dumbledore pretended not to notice and smiled more broadly.

“So our potions master has collected you already. If you’re as talented with potions as you are with transfiguration, that’s no surprise.”

“That she is, Albus! Brewed the best Wiggenweld I’ve ever seen from a first year!” The bombastic potions professor butted in, ushering his students into the office. “Tommy, old boy! Don’t just stand there! Come in. Have a cuppa!”

Lexi slipped inside away from Dumbledore and the obvious tension between him and Tom, and Tom followed after her. Much to her relief, Dumbledore turned his attention back to Professor Slughorn.

“Well, I’ll let Ruebeus know he has nothing to worry about from us while he’s on leave,” he said and then disappeared down the corridor.. Lexi exhaled, glad for the tension to deescalate, but she couldn’t help but think of Ruebeus again. Poor Ruebeus. He was going to be leaving school to see his dying father for perhaps the last time, and by Christmas break, he’d be an orphan like her and Tom, mourning a newly dead father. She wished there was something she could do to help him, but what could she, a first year student, do that the best magical healers in the country hadn’t already?

Mistaking her worry for Hagrid as nervousness, Tom put a reassuring arm around her and whispered in her ear.

“Don’t I always look after you? Follow my lead and you’ve nothing at all to worry about.” She felt the residual anger from his encounter with Professor Dumbledore but she was still comforted by the confidence and steadfastness in his voice. She wondered if Ruebeus had anyone to look after him.

The group of students sat in a crescent around Professor Slughorn’s desk, enjoying expensive tea cakes and butterbeer. It was, as Tom pointed out, a telling who’s who amongst the student body. Members of the well respected pureblood families such as the Blacks, the Malfoys, Lestranges, and the Averys were all represented. These, Lexi knew. However, there were also several students who seemed to be chosen for their personal merit. There was Stephen Miller, the muggleborn captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team who was already being scouted by the major league teams. There was also Pepper Harlow, Hufflepuff prefect and Head Girl, voted by her year as most likely to become Minister of Magic, and Jason Sellers, the half blood whose parents were ridiculously wealthy in both the wizarding and muggle worlds. Tom had quietly explained the traits of these individuals through a combination of legilimency and covert whispers, as Slughorn greeted them all by name and seated them. He waited until they were all seated, eating, and talking amongst themselves before he cleared his throat to get the attention of the group. Professor Slughorn stood and walked behind Lexi’s chair, placing a hand on her back. She stiffened, uncomfortable with the unfamiliar touch and the sudden feel of all the groups eyes on her.

Relax. Just smile, Tom spoke into her mind, and she did as she was bid.

“You may have noticed our Tommy has brought us a lovely new addition to our membership this evening. She’s only a first year but exceptionally bright. Perhaps she’ll give some of you a run for your money in the quiz competition. A warm welcome, if you please to Ms. Monroe.” Everyone clapped politely, and a few of the Slytherins cheered but quieted down when Pepper Harlow spoke up.

“A first year, Professor? That’s hardly fair to her to have her participate in the quiz bowl.” Lexi felt Tom’s anger flair but on his handsome face was a playful smirk.

“She’ll be fine, I assure you. I’ve been tutoring her myself. Perhaps you’re afraid you’ll be humiliated by a first year.” Everyone in Slytherin, including Professor Slughorn, and a few students from other houses laughed at this and the Head Girl’s freckled face turned crimson. Lexi swallowed. She hoped she could live up to the hype Tom was setting her up for.

As it turned out, that wouldn’t be a problem. Many of the answers she did know. She found herself in the top half of participants with no trouble. When she did begin to doubt herself, Tom was there, using his legilimency to plant answers in her head. Finally, the competition had come down to only three: Tom, Pepper, and her. The other students stared in amazement.

“We’ve got some hot competition tonight. Well done to our newcomer. Harlow, Riddle, good work as usual. Now for the sudden death round," Professor Slughorn announced gleefully. Lexi gulped. She wasn’t certain what to do now. Tom would be happy if she beat the Head Girl. But if she beat him? Tom wanted her to show everyone how smart she was and he might get angry if she sounded stupid, but he also hated to lose. Would he be angry if she somehow knew the answer and he didn’t? No, Tom said follow his lead. That’s all she had to do. Then he’d be happy and she’d get to sit with him at breakfast tomorrow.

“Final Question to determine tonight’s winner: There is a mythical plant rumored to grow in the exact middle of our own forbidden forest under a grove of Silver Hawthorne trees. This plant is said to be able to cure any disease, including rare disorders that are resistant to other healing charms and potions." Pepper Harlow knitted her russet eyebrows in confusion.

“Dittany?” she responded.

“That is incorrect. Harlow is out. Now it’s between our 5th year Slytherin Prefect and his lovely young protégée. Do either of you have a guess?" Tom and Lexi looked at each other and Tom shrugged. Neither of them knew. She wished she did though. She couldn’t help but think of Hagrid now, and wonder if such an herb would help his father. Surely the St Mungos healers would have thought of such a thing already though. Wouldn’t they?

“Going once. Going twice.”

“Im sorry. I don’t know,” Lexi said. Tom placed a comforting hand on her head.

“I wonder if you’re pulling our legs, Professor. I’ve not read of any such plant,” said Tom in a jovial tone, but Lexi could feel the undercurrent of annoyance. Professor Slughorn chuckled.

“We’ll call you the winner then, Riddle, as you are absolutely correct. None of you will have read about this plant as it hasn’t been recorded in any book. It is a hybrid that was cultivated by the great Mirabel Garlick herself. She was a dear friend of mine, you know. She had her own reasons for not releasing it to the public, I suppose.” Lexi swallowed. A plant that could cure anything. Grown by one of the most famous names in herbology. But she never wrote about it. That meant that the St Mungo healers might not know about it! That meant that maybe there was something that she could do for Hagrid after all! She had to find out more.

“What’s it called, Professor?” she asked eagerly. Tom rolled his eyes. Don’t encourage him, he spoke mentally, but for once, Lexi was more interested in something other than Tom, and was highly focused on Slughorns words as he responded.

“Angel’s Petticoat.”

“And what’s it looks like?” she asked, sitting on the edge of her seat. Lexi, come off it! Tom was starting to get irritated with her now and the tone of voice of his thoughts clearly reflected that. She didn’t want to displease him, but she had to know more about this plant.

“It’s pure white and glows fluorescent. The blossoms are shaped like lace petticoats.” Exact middle of the forbidden forest. Under a grove of silver Hawthorne trees. A florescent white plant with blossoms shaped like petticoats. Angel’s Petticoat: a one of a kind plant that could save Ruebeus’ father. She had to find it, and fast. The healers at St. Mungos were expecting him to succumb to his illness soon. So she’d have to go into the Forbidden forest and fetch this plant before it was too late. Tonight even, if possible. She thought about telling Tom, asking him to accompany her. It’d be safer that way. But no, then he’d want to know why she had been around Rubeus when he had expressly forbidden it, and it wasn’t outside of the realm of possibilities that he would catch wind of the events with Ruebeus as Abraxas had perceived them and that was the last thing the poor boy needed right now. So unfortunately she couldn’t get any help from Tom or any of his followers. Perhaps Eileen would help her.

As they made their way back to their common rooms, several students stopped to congratulate Lexi on holding her own in the quiz competition. This pleased Tom enough for him to forget his annoyance, and Lexi smiled and thanked them as she was expected, but her mind was already drifting away, into the unknown darkness of the forbidden forest.

Chapter Text

After Slug Club, Tom Riddle still had a busy evening ahead of him so he had sent Lexi on her way. He needed to speak to his Knights about new developments in his research and delegate tasks accordingly so they spent some time in the library together until the librarian kicked them out for lights out time. Then, he had to do his rounds as was his duty as a prefect. Following, he took a bath and attended to his hygiene appropriately.

Finally, after that, it was time to return to the sanctity of his own books and bed curtains. He laid himself down in his bed within the room of already snoring boys, and thought through the events of the day. It had been an effective day overall.

Slug Club had gone well, and he was certain he was extremely close to finding the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. At this point, his followers were enthralled by his lineage and willing to do anything to help him achieve his goals, thereby earning his favor. Dear Lexi had been so good at Slug Club. She’d hardly needed his guidance, but was quite obedient when he gave it. Except for her prodding about the stupid herb that Slughorn was bragging about. That was annoying, but it was just her curiosity. She’d wanted to learn everything about magic since he’d first told her about it. That wasn’t really a bad thing. He could teach her to be more discerning in her pursuits if it became a problem for him in the future.

He reminded himself that he was rewarding her with letting her sit next to him at breakfast in the morning. Which side would be best? He’d make Avery slide down a seat. Avery’d been getting on his nerves lately anyway. He yawned, stretching back on his pillow, suddenly realizing how exhausted he was. He closed his eyes and within moments he was asleep.

When he awoke again, it was pitch dark, the last students’ candles having burned down, but the sun was still not yet awake. He had hoped to sleep a little longer as once Tom awoke, the constant whirrings of his own mind would never allow him to go back to sleep. It had been the same ever since he was a small child. No matter. This would be a good time to call for his Lexi. He could set some expectations for how she was to behave next to him at the table, and then perhaps they’d read together until sunrise. Tom smiled at the idea of the this familiar ritual and closed his eyes, focusing on his internal image of her familiar aura.

Lexi, he called out to her. She didn’t answer. Perhaps she was sleeping. He probed farther, in the direction of her dorm, feeling auras not as familiar, her dorm mates. He felt the Prince girl. Lexi should be nearby. But in the direction of her bed … nothing. Where was she and what was she doing out of bed this time of night without telling him about it?

He began to grow angry as he searched for her aura within the castle, casting his senses farther and farther out until he reached his limit, and still, she was nowhere to be found. What was that stupid girl up to? Hogwarts was a big place, and all the ancient magic did make it difficult for him to search out too far. Perhaps she had gone to the library, or perhaps she had forgotten to eat during the previous day with all her nerves and was sneaking into the kitchens the way she often did back at the orphanage. She’d return to the common room soon and then he’d call her to him.

He picked up his current favorite book, Magick Moste Evile, and decided to do a little light reading in the meantime.

The sun began to rise and Lexi still hadn’t returned. Now Tom was really starting to get angry. She knew they were having breakfast together in the morning and she knew that he hated to be late for anything and equally hated to be ill prepared, and therefore had the same expectations for his associates. If she had planned to be away from the common room for any substantial length of time or had a good reason (and it had better be a damned good one) for needing to miss breakfast with him in the morning (though he couldn’t imagine what that could possibly be) then she ought to have told him.

Unless for some reason she couldn’t. Was she spending time with someone he didn’t approve of? Was it Dumbledore? Or had some handsome young wizard caught her eye and she had snuck out to see him? She wouldn’t dare! Would she? This thought brought out a darker insidious anger, as images of his far too young little Lexi being snogged by some brainless quidditch player in the corridor seeped into his thoughts unbidden and he wasn’t certain if he was angry with this imaginary boy for imaginaryingly thinking he had any right to so much as imaginaryingly look upon, much less bismirch with his filthy imaginary hands and mouth Tom’s sweet little Lexi, or if he was more angry at a hypothetical Lexi who, having shown she was capable of stupid, girlish feelings towards him might hypothetically turn those feelings outwards towards someone else like stupid imaginary quidditch boy. He began to feel queasy and pushed these thoughts away.

There was another far more plausible explanation. There had to be. He thought of other possibilities. Had Peeves gotten her lost or trapped somewhere? Had she gotten herself hurt?

Tom Riddle, who preferred to plan ahead, to make all of his moves in advance, hated not having the requisite information to make an informed decision on how to handle an unexpected situation and he particularly hated when something or someone went against his well laid plans. He needed to figure out what was going on so he could put things right and regain control.

He’d go and look for her. If she was lost, he’d find her. If she was hurt, he’d heal her. If there was any other reason for her absence, he’d punish her accordingly. In any case, he’d set things right.

Chapter Text

“Prince. Good morning;” Tom Riddle spoke suddenly in a too-pleasant voice from just behind her that startled Eileen from her solo game of gobstones. She turned to face the Prefect who stood between her and the only exit. He was smiling at her but Eileen didn’t smile back. Truth be told, although she wasn’t stupid enough to say it to his face, she didn’t like Tom very much. She knew what he really was: a bully and a fake, just like her father. All smiles for the public, but one step out of line … she suppressed a shudder. She had hardly thought of that arsehole since she’d made it to Hogwarts. She wasn’t going to let Tom Riddle put her mind back there.

“Hello,” she said evenly.

“Seen Lexi this morning?” he asked. She hadn’t. She’d assumed Lexi was with Tom. That’s usually where Lexi was when Eileen woke up in the early morning and Lexi wasn’t in her own bed. She’d never asked directly what they did during that time. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“She wasn’t with you then?” she asked. Tom frowned.

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at, but no, she wasn’t. However, she’s supposed to sit next to me at breakfast this morning and she has yet to show.” Eileen felt a cold lump forming in her throat. If she wasn’t with Tom and hadn’t been seen since last night, she had an idea where the girl might be found and it wasn’t good. Tom’s eyes narrowed.

"You do know something,” he stated, his voice taking on a darker, unsettling timbre.

“Leeeny, please. You have to come with me.” Lexi had begged her last night. She’d told her no, that the Forbidden Forest was way too dangerous for a couple of first years on their own. And besides, Angel’s Petticoat might not even be there. Anything could have happened to it since the time Garlick had planted it, or it was possible that Slughorn had just made the whole thing up.

“ Ruebeus Hagrid goes into the forest alone and he’s only a second year,” Lexi had pointed out.

“Yeah, but he’s bigger and stronger than both of us put together. Besides, if he’s in the forest so much, how come he doesn’t know about the plant already.” Lexi had given her an exacerbated sigh.

“Because no one knows about this plant. They never wrote anything about it. I told you that already.”

“Probably because it’s not even real. Going on some wild Goose chase and ending up lost or hurt in the Forbidden Forest isnt going to help anyone. Just let it go.” Lexi threw up her arms and gave a wordless frustrated groan. She was incredibly cute when she was frustrated. Eileen wondered if Tom ever told her that. Probably not.

“If you know something, you need to tell me,” Tom said. “As long as I’m the one who finds her, I’ll see to  it that she doesn’t get in too much trouble. What if you don’t tell me, and then she gets hurt?” At first Tom had said this simply to manipulate the Prince girl into divulging any information she had, but no sooner had the words left his mouth than he started wondering what if they were true. Lexi really could be in danger. “Tell me what you know,” Tom demanded, his voice a low, dark growl as his mask of the easygoing friendly student fell away for the moment.

He reached into her mind and easily pulled out the thought he was looking for.

“I’ll go to the forest by myself if I have to but I wish you’d come,” he heard his Lexi plead in the Prince girl’s memory. Of course! The forbidden forest. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Because he hadn’t expected her to behave so rashly. If she wanted to go to the forest she ought to have asked him. He might have found the time to indulge her. He knew he’d been busy of late with his focus so deeply on the Chamber of Secrets, but Lexi ought to have had the sense to wait until he was available. Instead the little fool had run off by herself, like an idiot and if she really had gotten herself hurt .. Tom turned from Eileen wordlessly and abruptly left.

Eileen wasn’t sure exactly what had just happen but she got the distinct impression that Tom now knew what she knew about Lexi’s whereabouts.

“Sorry, kid,” she muttered to the empty courtyard. She hadn’t meant to reveal any secrets but if Lexi really was lost in the forest, she could only hope that Tom Riddle would find her in time, and that his reaction to her whereabouts didn’t spell more trouble for Lexi.

Lexi’s whole body was cold, and she felt like it had been for eternity, as if warmth was nothing more than a fairytale, something she had imagined from long ago. She was laying on her back on a muddy bank. She vaguely remembered falling, and wanting to get up, but her body wouldn’t move. Time had passed since then as she waited listlessly, but she wasn’t sure how much. She did see some strands of light peeking through the trees, but they didn’t bring with them any warmth either. It was okay though. Her body was beginning to go numb. The cold was leaving her. Perhaps like this she could finally get some rest. Lexi Monroe closed her eyes.

A hard slap to her face jolted her awake, and she felt some prickly heat from where the slap smarted on her cheek.

“Don’t you dare go back to sleep,” Tom growled at her, an air of desperation in his voice.

“T-“ she tried to mumble his name but could barely get out the first sound .

“You’re poisoned. I don’t know with what. I’ve done some stabilizing charms but we have to get you to the hospital wing for treatment. You have to stay awake until then. Do you understand me?!” She mumbled something unintelligible, trying to ask him about the Angel’s Petticoat she’d never gotten to, but no actual words would come out.

“Can you stand?” he asked. She tried to do as he asked but could barely move her fingers and toes, much less her body. Tom didn’t wait for her to try again. He leaned down and scooped her up into his arms, cradling her body to his chest. She could hear his heart beating wildly with her head against his shoulder. “You’re not going to die,” he stated firmly, the way he’d give any other command he expected to be followed. Tom found a path to follow towards the school and set forth to quickly get Lexi to the hospital wing. He needed this madness to be over. His heartbeat and his own breathing were beyond his control at this point.

Tom Riddle had seen dead things before, even a few dead people, and he’d never felt anyhing more than a detached curiosity. He’d even been the cause of death for some unfortunate animals, but seeing his Lexi so near death was not something he was prepared for. She was supposed to be his, to be by his side, not go off on her own and get herself killed, leaving him alone, abandoning him for death just as his own mother had done. No, Lexi wasn’t allowed to die. If she did, he’d never forgive her.

"You’re a stupid little girl, but you are powerful. Whatever this poison is, fight it. Do you understand me?!” He kept on babbling such orders, barely knowing what he was saying as he concentrated on getting them out of the forest.

“You got her here just in time, Mr. Riddle. You’re a true hero.” Madame Dervish spoke as she tucked thick warm blankets around Lexi’s small frame.

“She’ll live then?”

“Yes. But she’ll need to stay here in stasis until the antidote is ready.”

“How long?”

“The first dose will be ready within the month. The second dose must follow a month later.”

“Can I stay here with her a bit? I’m like an elder brother to her. I’ll be a comfort.” He laid his charm on thick, knowing the nurse would agree and gave her a handsome grateful looking smile as she nodded and walked off.

Tom sat down in a chair next to the bed and looked at Lexi. She’d survive. She was far weaker than she ought to be, but she would survive. Death had tried to take what belonged to him but he wasn’t a helpless infant this time, and he had stopped it. Still, it had been a mocking reminder how easy it was for Death to destroy someone.

Death shouldn’t be something he had to fear, it should be something he could outsmart, outmaneuver, something he could use for his own purposes. He was the Heir of Slytherin, he’d be the greatest wizard who’d ever existed. He’d find a way to tame death for his own purposes. He wasn’t sure how he’d do it yet, but he’d make death bow to him. He would consume Death, claim it as his own, and it would never touch him again.

“Tom.” Lexi murmured his name in her ilucid but recovering state as she slept. Tom checked around to make sure no one else was around and then climbed into the hospital bed with her. After she had sufficiently recovered and he’d had time to gather the facts, he would be punishing her foolish act, but for now he would simply lay beside her, feeling the warmth of her body that he’d become accustom to, savoring the feeling as the first of many victories for the Heir of Slytherin over Death.

Chapter Text

“Ruebeus!” This name escaped Lexi’s lips as she sat up in the hospital bed, conscious for the first time in three weeks. Tom Riddle who had been sitting in a chair next to her, looked up from his book, with a raised eyebrow.

“What?”

“I’m almost to the Angel’s Petticoat. I can save his father.” Tom gave a mirthless laugh. Her confused babbling as she awoke wasn’t nonsensical to him. Through legilimency he had gained a sense of what she had been thinking when she went off on her own. She had put herself in harm’s way for the benefit of someone he had expressly told her not to associate with. At absolutely no discernable benefit to herself. And what’s more, she had sought to deceive him. Had he not thought quickly and discovered her little stunt, she would be dead and rotting on the forest floor right now. Perhaps she deserved to be. None of his other followers would have dared to so brazenly disobey him.

But Lexi … She’d always been the most obedient, the most eager to please. He couldn’t understand why she’d crossed this line and it incensed him. Too often in the past he’d told himself he ought to punish her, but he’d so rarely follow through. She wilted so beautifully at just a stern look or just the ghost of a harsh tone, he’d hardly felt she needed it. But not this time. This time he’d be firm. She would not disobey him again. He smiled at her, ready to set into motion her punishment.

“What have you done, you stupid little girl?” he said, his eyes taking on a predatory glow.

“Tom,” his own name from her lips, her tone saturated with both adoration and pleading. “We have to help.” Step one. Make it clear to her that she failed in her endeavor.

“Ruebeus Hagrid has already gone home to mourn his dead father. Your foolish stunt brought him no relief. You couldn’t even make it to the center of the forest before you almost managed to get yourself killed.” Her face fell. Good. This time he wanted her to feel hurt. Step two. Remind her whom she really ought to be indebted to. “Lucky for you, I know you better than anyone. I knew where you’d be and I found you. I saved you, despite the fact that you hid this whole little escapade from me.”

Her tears were instantaneous. She hadn’t been awake long enough to build any mental defense. The tears tried to work their usual magic on him, that uncomfortable feeling he got in his chest when he saw them in her wide eyes, but this time he was too angry with her to let them change his course. He would see her punished. Just the fact that she had almost given herself over to Death wasn’t enough. She had also disobeyed and deceived him, and to Tom, that felt like rejection. That was something that he could not accept.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to …” She’d said those same words to him the day they’d met. You will be, he had responded.

“Don’t you even start!” he hissed venomously. “You’re sorry things didn’t go to your poorly laid plan, or lack thereof. You’re sorry you failed. Don’t act contrite for anything else, because I won’t tolerate you lying to me again. “ Lexi was crushed. Being scolded by Tom was her least favorite thing in the world. She hated to see him angry and to have it turned on her full force was more than she could bear. Her entire body shook as she heaved a sob. How could she make him understand? She’d only wanted to help someone.

Those gasping sobs were soothing to Tom. She regretted her foolish behavior and he loved that it tormented her so to know he was unhappy. But that still wasn’t enough for what she had done. Twist the knife deeper. Make a scar she won’t forget. And if she was strong enough to belong to him, she’d tolerate it and learn to be better.

“Stop being a crybaby, and tell me exactly why you did this.” He knew why, but she would confess in her own words. Then he would finish punishing her. Her words poured out then, though still shaky.

“I thought I could help. I thought if I got to the angel’s Petticoat, id be able to save his father. Im sorry I didn’t tell you. It’s just, well, I know you said not to be friends with Ruebeus. And then Abraxas saw him hug me but he thought – I don’t know. Thought he was doing something bad. He wasn’t! But he needed me, Tom. He needed me to help, and I-” At this new bit of knowledge, Tom’s blood felt like ice before his acidic anger melted it away. That pathetic creature had hugged her? And Abraxas had seen it and hadn’t reported it. What had Lexi done to make him feel familiar enough to hug her? This was not at all acceptable. It seemed there would be a lot more punishment to dole out.

“And how was it any of your concern to begin with?”

“I wanted to help…”

“And instead, you’ve made a mess of things, that could have been avoided if you had done what?” Lexi sniffled. She knew the correct answer, and she gave it, defeated.

“Listened to you and did as you told me.” Tom smiled then and gave her a little pat on the head.

“You see? Was that so hard?” He sank in close to her then, whispering in her ear, enjoying the way she drew closer, needing his approval.

“But you did deceive me, and you did disobey me. How should you be punished for that?”

Lexi swallowed. Tom rarely frightened her. Despite knowing the things he sometimes did to others who crossed him, she somehow hadn’t imagined it ever being turned on her. She was his friend. She loved him. Every once in a while he might pinch her or pull her hair when he was irritated, but that was something she’d dealt with all her life before Tom, from people she liked far less. That was nothing. But she had seen what he had done to others who crossed him. She remembered well how he had made Orion sick and humiliated him in front of everyone at the pub in Diagon Alley. Would he really do something like that to her? Tom eyed her coldly, looking like a viper who was enjoying toying with a meal before devouring it.

“If you don’t have an answer, that’s alright. I’ve thought of something for you. With this, when I call to you, you’ll answer.” What was he talking about? Her head was still a little wonky and she didn’t understand what he was saying. “It’s something I’ve been thinking of for a while, a way to link my followers to me. You will have the honor of being the first, but it will be a bit painful. Let me mark you, and I will forgive you.” Lexi chewed her bottom lip pensively. This didn’t seem so bad to her. She didn’t mind being marked by Tom. The idea felt to her somehow almost romantic actually. And if it was painful … well, at least it would be worth it if Tom forgave her. She nodded her consent and his predatory smile widened across his entire face.

After checking to ensure the door was locked and they were alone, he took out his wand and used it to lift the sleeves of the simple hospital robe she had been wearing. He traced over her pale tender skin with the tip of his wand enjoying her involuntary shiver and shallow breaths more than he expected. Where to place his mark? It should be able to be hidden, but not so conveniently so that she could forget that it’s there. Somewhere she could see it when dressing without having to look in the mirror. He settled on her upper arm. She winced as he began the spell, the design spreading across her skin. A low whimper caught in the back of her throat, but she bit her lip to keep from crying out. Despite his anger, he couldn’t help but feel fondness for her noting how gracefully she took the pain he knew she was feeling from the dark magic slicing through her skin and seeping into her body. His pants felt uncomfortably tight as he felt the stirring of that unsettling feeling he had felt when he was in her dreams, but this time he wasn’t going to relent.

Lexi cringed against the invading pain. First it felt like a blade, cutting the design into her skin, but then it felt hot, like fire burning her from the inside, then finally it sank deeper and felt cold like the poison of the forest, a cold that would never fully go away. She would always be able to feel the mark he was placing on her. It would become a part of her, tying her to him inexorably, permanently.

The two looked over the handiwork when the spell was complete. Tom smiled. Perfect. It had come out better than he had expected. Lexi found the design a bit crass and unsettling contemplating what it represented. The serpent and the skull were the images that Tom had chosen to represent himself, and now that she wore them on her skin, it marked her as his. An acknowledgement that she had wanted, but at her tender age, she couldn’t fully comprehend the implications of. She felt faint now, exhausted. Somehow this ritual has taken more out of her than her weakened state allowed. She laid back on the bed now, too exhausted to process what had just happened.

Tom smiled at her, almost affectionately. He was satisfied for the moment.

“One more thing,” he said with a wicked grin. Final step. Give her hope, something to work towards, to earn that would keep her under his control.

“While you were sleeping, I figured out how to open the Chamber of Secrets.” Lexi’s jaw dropped and her heart nearly stopped. She would have been thrilled for Tom had she had the energy to do so. She had so many questions. The Heir of Slytherin grinned even wider.

“Perhaps I’ll tell you about it when I feel that I can trust you again.” With that he turned and left, leaving her to recover alone.

Chapter Text

The rest of first year went by in a bit of a haze for Lexi. After two more weeks she was allowed to leave the hospital wing and return to her regularly scheduled classes. Very little seemed to have changed during the time that she had spent there, and yet somehow it seemed that everything had. She was more careful now, no longer smiling at Hagrid, who had returned in December, when no one was looking. Although it seemed these days that there was always someone looking.

Tom kept an eye on her a lot more frequently now, though he also seemed to be keeping her at arm’s length. Their late night reading together had all but stopped and she very seldom found herself alone with him. He said he had forgiven her for deceiving him and for getting herself hurt, but she still felt his seething, an anger that was not burning hot, but icy cold, seemingly out of nowhere at times, and she could almost feel it pulsing through the mark he had placed on her.

Dumbledore continued to favor her to other first years, but she shied away a bit more now, not wanting to upset Tom again. The shrewd professor seemed to notice this, and when he’d put a gentle hand on her shoulder while guiding her wandwork, it was almost as if he knew of the mark that had been placed there.

Alone, she’d stare at the mark sometimes. It tied her to Tom in some deep, primal fashion, marking her as something that belonged to him. It felt soothing, knowing he wanted her enough to mark her, and yet it was unsettling in a way she didn’t fully understand.

Eileen saw the mark on her skin once when she was changing, but she hadn’t said anything. She and Eileen had become even closer now that she was spending less time alone with Tom. When she needed someone to talk to, it was Eileen who lent her ear. When she was feeling rejected by Tom’s ignoring her or his continuing bouts of moodiness, it was Eileen who soothed her and made her feel as if she still had value to someone.

Eileen Prince was known for being sarcastic and withdrawn but for Lexi, even when she was being sardonic, there was always a gentleness, a kindness others didn’t always get to see. This new connection was how she had been able to survive the rest of first year. Without it, with the ambivalence she was currently experiencing from Tom, she didn’t know if she could have carried on.

Eileen didn’t trust Tom, or approve of the way he treated Lexi, and when the two girls were alone, she was vocal about it. “Why is his attention so important to you? You have other friends, you know. You’re smart, and sweet, and beautiful. You don’t need him to tell you that.” Secretly, Eileen wished that it mattered to Lexi that she told her those things. All the things Tom so seldom seemed to. If Lexi cared about what she said as much as she hung on Tom’s every word, Eileen would tell her this every single day until she believed it and remembered it. But she knew she couldn’t compare to the hold that Tom Riddle had over the girl.

As the end of term drew near, Lexi braced herself for Tom’s mood to darken with it. She knew how much he hated the annual return to the Muggle orphanage. However, things seemed different this time around. As the last weeks went by, he had grown more chatty, and even a bit affectionate. Lexi wasn’t sure exactly what was the catalyst of this change but she was extremely grateful for it. Her old butterflies for Tom welled up more often as he’d chat glibly with her, giving her his handsome smiles, and affectionate pats the way he used to. She began to hope that he had finally truly forgiven her and things would go back to how they used to be between them.

They even sat together on the train, just the two of them. Lexi could feel Tom’s excitement although he hadn’t told her why. She didn’t even think to question it, she was so needing this return to his good graces. When he sat next to her, absentmindedly tracing the mark hidden beneath the sleeve of her robe as he read next to her in companionable silence, she felt happier than she had in a long time.

“What will we do this summer, Tom?” she asked him, daring to hope for a positive response. He flashed her a devilish grin that took her breath away.

“Oh, I have plans, my dear. You’ll see. It’s time for Slytherin’s heir to rise.” She didn’t know what he meant by that, but his smile, his affection, his enthusiasm was enough to make her heart skip a beat. She couldn’t wait to find out what he meant.

Chapter Text

Tom Riddle sat on the thin cot he slept on every summer at Wool’s orphanage, silently contemplating. He’d been in this depressing little room many times before, and each time he was forced to return here, he grew more bitter, more disdainful of the muggle world. Tonight was different though, as he knew he would be leaving here shortly. He had another destination in mind. Little Hangleton. Through tireless research he had tracked down the last known whereabouts of his wizarding family. He had even managed to surmise that there may be a living Gaunt still there among them. He would go there and finally fully verify his Slytherin heritage, and also see if there were any artefacts that ought to rightfully belong to him as the heir of Slytherin.

Next to him, Lexi groaned in her sleep, unconsciously curling closer to him on the cot. He reached out towards the young girl, tracing with his fingertip the mark he had placed on her arm. It was a thing of beauty, that mark. He felt quite a bit of pride in having designed not only its form, but also its magical function. It ensured she would always know when he required her presence, so she wouldn’t dare try to take off somewhere without him again.

He set his jaw hard, thinking of that. It had been months now since Lexi ran off into the forbidden forest alone, nearly getting herself killed, and she hadn’t dared to be so foolish as to do something like that again, but it still angered him whenever he let himself think about it too much.

He wasn’t sure if he was more angry because she had disobeyed him and deceived him, or because of what she had made him feel as a result of it. For the first time in his life Tom Riddle had felt fear, panic even, over the state of another creature other than himself. He’d never admit that to her or to anyone else though. He’d barely admitted it to himself. But that weakness within him, it festered and stung inside him and even though he’d assured her he’d forgiven her, he still found little ways to punish her more every time he thought too much about it. Now, he was feeling that way again.

Tom had told Lexi that he had plans involving his heritage this summer, but he hadn’t yet revealed to her what those plans were. He hadn’t so much as uttered the name Little Hangleton to anyone just yet, not even her.

He wondered to himself how she would have felt if the roles were reversed. Of course he was powerful enough to look after himself. He didn’t need someone older and stronger to look after him. She wouldn’t need to worry about him getting hurt. But she would miss him. He knew how miserable she became when he ignored her or was away from her long. He could see it in her eyes how much it bothered her when he no longer called her to his side during his leisure, when he hadn’t bothered to find task for her in his research after her disobedience. And in some way it felt good to punish her like that, knowing he possessed that power, that she was his, that she needed him in such a way. And yet …. That also repelled him. He didn’t like that he cared that she needed him, that her absence and her disobedience could provoke feelings in him that nothing else could. He hated that and wanted to punish her more for making him feel so weak as to care about something so trivial.

No, he wasn’t about to take her along to Little Hangleton. He didn’t need the distraction, and he didn’t need to have her with him. And if he should have want of her, he could call her to him.
“Tom…” she murmured his name in her sleep, and he reached out to stroke her hair in an automatic response before even thinking, gently shushing her .

She was a pretty little thing, his Lexi. Too bad she couldn’t be trusted to obey him. She’d have to wait here for his return, not knowing where he'd gone, or what he was doing. Just as she’d made him suffer, he would return it in kind. Then perhaps he’d truly feel better. Then perhaps he would be able to forgive her. Of course it wasn’t fully the same. She should already know that he would eventually return. Death had no claim on the Heir of Slytherin.

He gently slipped away from the girl, placing his own blanket around her so she’d stay asleep when he departed. He wasn’t sure how she would react when she woke up and found that he was gone, but it didn’t really matter. He had more important things to think about than the feelings of a silly little girl. The heir of Slytherin was rising and his followers would have to fall in line accordingly. He had a feeling that when he returned to her, he would be much more than before. He was sure a discovery awaited that was his alone.

“Behave yourself while I’m gone,” he whispered as he slipped out the door. She only gave a sleepy wordless murmur in response.

Chapter Text

Lexi knew that Tom hated the annual return to Wool’s orphanage each June more than most anything. Leaving Hogwarts, where he was admired, revered, in some cases even feared, to be forced to return to the crass and ignorant muggle world was probably his least favorite time of year. For Lexi though, it was the opposite. She longed for the summer nights when she and Tom would be together, just the two of them and their books, in their own world where no one and nothing else seemed to matter or even exist, at least not to her. When they had stepped off the train together, for the first time in a long time, she had had high hopes, but things had not gone according to plan. Though she had fallen asleep next to him on his cot on the first night after leaving Hogwarts, she had awoken the next morning with a sinking feeling in her stomach, already noting the lack of his presence. He wasn’t at the orphanage now. She didn’t know where he had gone to but she knew he wasn’t here. 

At first, this wasn’t terribly alarming to her. Tom did as he liked, as he always had, and sometimes of late, he would disappear for a while. But this time, something felt different. He felt farther away somehow, and as the day wore on, without his return, she became more certain that something was amiss. 

Where had he gone to? He’d told her he had grand plans for the summer. Surely he hadn’t gone to pursue them without her, leaving her here all alone. She waited in his room until mid-day hoping he'd return soon but as each hour passed, the pit in her stomach seemed to grow larger and heavier. 

“Tom, where are you?” she whispered to the emblem on her arm which had felt like ice on her skin since morning. He’d be back, she told herself. He wouldn’t leave her alone all summer. Would he? When the dinner bell found her sitting alone in their usual spot, she began to wonder. 

She fell asleep in his bed that evening still confused and distressed, and it wasn't until the earliest hours of the next morning just before daylight streaked the sky that she awoke with a start, feeling his presence again. But something was wrong. There was something different about Tom now. He sat rigid in the chair by the desk, unmoving, not speaking, but staring off into nothingness. 

“Tom?” She whispered his name but he didn’t respond. So she stood and walked over to him. A shiny glimmer caught her eye, an ornate ring he was turning over and over in his fingertips, staring at it intently. She could feel an air of ancient and dark magic emanating from the ring, and she recognized the familiar colors and ornate snake crest upon it. Slytherin. But where did it come from, and how did he get it? Is this why he had left her all alone? He spoke then, his voice strangely distant, hardly seeming like his own. 

“I killed those stupid muggles, the lot of them. Disgusting filth…” 

“What?” She drew a little closer but it was as if he didn’t even know she was there, he was so lost in his own thoughts. Lexi knew something terrible had happened and it had affected Tom greatly. It wasn’t just the ring’s dark magic preoccupying him. There was something else. She could feel it. His usual easy confidence was replaced with a dark seething anger and disgust that permeated his entire being. 

“What’s the matter, Tom?” she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t respond. It was as if he was somewhere else entirely. So she sat down next to him and waited. But he didn’t look at her, didn’t speak to her. He just kept sliding that ring across his fingers, over and over again, staring at some fixed point that only he seemed to be able to see between his face and the ring. 

By breakfast, he still hadn’t moved or spoken again. She stuffed the bread they’d given her into the pocket of her pinafore so she could bring him something to eat, and slipped into the shadows with the pitcher of water. 

“Tom, I’ve brought you some breakfast.” This time he glanced at her for a moment, and then spoke, his gaze on the ring. 

“Don’t call me that filthy muggle name anymore. God, they were disgusting. I was doing them a favor ending their pathetic lives.” 

“You what?” He reached out and grabbed her arm and a horrible vision flooded her mind. Voices, screaming, pleading with pain and terror. A dark mirthless laugh echoed, reverberating through her skull as she saw flashes of darkest poisonous green, the color the inside of her stomach felt just now. “What did you do?” she whispered in disbelief, uncertain she really wanted any clarification. She was almost grateful when he didn’t respond.

For the next several days, he continued to sit, staring at the ring and nothing else, occasionally muttering about muggle filth, birthrights, and curses. Lexi took care of him as best she could, bringing him fresh water and whatever food she could pilfer from the table, though he rarely bothered to nibble at it. She wiped his forehead with a handkerchief when he broke out in a sweat and convinced the matrons that he was alright when they came nosing around. But he remained much the same, quietly staring at the ring, deep inside his own thoughts.

Despite his seeming lack of notice of the outside world, Lexi’s presence was not lost on the young Heir of Slytherin. He could feel her presence without looking at her, feel her concern, her need to nurture him and keep by his side. She was dutiful and delicate, seeming to comprehend the gravity of what he had done but bright enough to know not to ask for details. She was a good follower, he thought almost fondly, perhaps the best he had, and he found himself forgiving her for her previous misdeed. He ought to reward her in some way, he thought. So as she set a cup of tea before him that evening, he pulled her to him, giving her what he’d known she’d desired for quite some time.

Lexi jumped, nearly knocking the teacup off the table as he pulled her to him, brushing his lips against hers. Her heart rate increased before she had time to even process what was happening. This moment that she’d secretly dreamed of so many times felt exactly as she expected it to. She felt herself melting into him, feeling for a moment only his presence and the fire it stoked within her. There was nothing more in the universe beyond Tom Marvolo Riddle and the way it felt to have his arms wrapped around her and his mouth on hers. But slowly, a different feeling crept in.

The vision she’d seen of the muggles who’d been slaughtered. Tom had killed someone. Maybe more than one person. She felt the truth of this every bit as real and as heavy as his kiss, and it pierced her rapidly beating heart like a basilisk fang. The worst of it was, it didn’t make her desire him any less. She’d always known she’d choose him over anything. She’d thought of her loyalty as her chief virtue. Nothing about this moment felt like virtue, but something in her obviously broken brain continued to need this. She felt guilty, but the guilt was swallowed by the overwhelming need to be close to him, to be his.

As for the young Heir of Slytherin, the kiss was meant to be a simple gesture, a reward of sorts. It shouldn’t have caused him to feel anything. And yet, it stirred something. He wanted more of her, wanted to feel more than just her soft lips and trembling skin, wanted to consume her soul, over and over again … But this was weakness. He now knew precisely what had happened to his mother, how she had pined for and wasted away over that filthy, disgusting muggle, leaving him all alone… he’d never allow himself to be so weak. Not even for this. As quickly as he had begun, he pushed her away, leaving her staring at him breathlessly with those large brown eyes. That beautiful pathetic look of need and adoration on her face somehow drew him in and repelled him at the same time. He pushed the thought away as he slipped the Gaunt family heirloom on his finger.

“Do something for me, my dear?” She blinked, seeming to pull herself from a trance, and then focused intently.

“Yes, of course, Tom.” He cringed, hearing that name again.

“If you must refer to me in public, Tom will do, but I’ve decided on a new name, one that suits my inheritance and my ambitions far better.”

Lexi nodded. He seemed to be coming back to his old self now. And for that, she’d do anything he asked.

“What shall I call you then?" she asked. He smirked.

“I am Lord Voldemort.”

Chapter Text

     Second year was very different from first year now that Tom wasn’t Tom anymore. Now that he was Lord Voldemort, everything seemed to have changed. He spent a lot more time with his followers, a group of mostly sixth and seventh year Slytherin boys that secretly called themselves the Knights of Walpurgis and talked of clandestine plans in furtive whispers. To Lexi, most of them seemed like boys playing at a darker version of cloak and dagger games, but she knew that wasn’t the case for Lord Voldemort. He was serious. Dead serious. Anything and anyone who stood in the way of his goals would be eliminated. The thought of the very real possibility of someone getting hurt or worse churned her stomach, but nothing too terrible had happened since the summer. At least not yet.

     The professors whispered, preoccupied with their opinions on the dark plans of Gellert Grindelwald, with occasional comments about the Muggles’ war. None of them seemed to recognize the very real threat brewing within their own student body.

     As for Lexi, she threw herself headlong into her studies. It was easier that way. No one questioned why you were up so late when you sat in the common room with a book in your lap and a quill in your hand. No one asked you why you didn’t want to talk at breakfast when you were busy reciting the rules of transfiguration to yourself.

     They never suspected that it was from the gnawing guilt of things that had happened, or a crippling anxiety for things that might.

     Even Lord Voldemort complimented Lexi for her devotion to knowledge. “You'll be a greatly powerful witch,” he praised. “I was right to give you a place by my side.” He’d trace the mark on her arm under her robe as he’d murmur this to her.

     He felt a deeper affection for Lexi now. She’d kept his secrets just as she said she would, and she was always right there studying when he had want of her. He kept her at arms length, not wanting to involve her too deeply in the darker aspects of his plans for now, but wanting her there next to him all the same. He was certain of her value as an asset to him. Although he hadn’t decided exactly the best use of her yet, he knew he wanted her there. Perhaps as his plans took shape, he’d gain more clarity on that aspect, but for now, it was enough to have her loyalty and her attention as he set things in motion.

    Although no one else would ever know this, his thoughts turned to the mother he’d never known more often now that he knew the truth of what had happened to her, and it fueled an intense mixture of emotion within him, different from anything else he’d ever experienced. During those moments, when Lexi looked at him, sometimes he felt an urge to protect her, to punish the mother who’d discarded her, deal with her worthless muggle father the same way he’d dealt with his own. But just as often, he wanted to punish her. He hated that weak look in her eyes, that pathetic desperate devotion. It only served to remind him of his own mother, a pitiful creature that had allowed herself to be completely consumed by a weakness and sickness these fools called love.

     And yet he didn’t want her to stop her adoration. Not really. He craved the pleasure that he felt when she listened wideeyed to him brag about his clever scheming, the warmth of her body as she sat next to him, the scent of her that lingered on his robes when she’d been near…

    This internal struggle was something he could never let anyone know. To the world, he was Tom Riddle, a brilliant student with a bright future. To his followers, he was Lord Voldemort, a figure of immense power and fear. But within, he wrestled with emotions he deemed unworthy, despising the part of himself that could be swayed by such human frailty.

     He pondered this one night as he sat awake by the fire in the common room, waiting for the deepest silence that only comes at about 2 or 3 in the morning, when most everyone is asleep, so that he could go down and summon the basilisk. He'd sent Lexi up a few hours ago, and she’d actually had the nerve to protest, saying she needed to stay up and study. If any of his other followers had defied him like that, he’d have punished them immediately. But Lexi seemed to have some enchantment about her, that made him lenient towards her, even when he hadn’t intended to be. Perhaps he ought to punish her for that too.

     A subtle flicker to the flame gave Voldemort to know of the presence of another, even if the flame hadn’t turned green yet. He waited quietly for the shift in hue before speaking.

     “Looking for something?” Through emotion filled unguarded flashes, he garnered exactly who had created an unregistered flu connection into Slytherin common room, and for what purpose. Well … nearly.

     “I’m sorry,” came the misery soaked and strangely familiar sounding voice of a witch. “I hadn’t meant to disturb anyone.”

     “Its alright,” Tom Riddle crooned in his most charismatic, accurate imitation of caring. “You’re looking for someone. Perhaps I can help you.” The voice seemed desperate enough that he was sure they’d be willing to pay greatly for his assistance.

     The image of a woman appeared in the flames. She had long hair, and soft feminine features. She looked familiar somehow although he was certain he had never seen her before. Lord Voldemort was quite good at keeping up with the catalog of people he’d met. The more people you knew and the more information you stored about them, the More power you had at your disposal over those people. But this woman, familiar though she seemed, he hadn’t met her.

     “My daughter …” the woman spoke. “I believe she’s here. She’d be a second year now, I think.”

     “You think?” How would she not know her own daughter’s year in school?

     “I can’t tell you who I am. I’m sorry. But I don’t want any trouble. I’ll leave soon. I only wanted to see…if she’s here…. if she’s….. happy.” At that moment, Voldemort knew exactly who she was. The guilt ridden timbre of the woman’s voice, the pitiful defeated posture on the frame of a clearly once beautiful and proud woman. And those eyes. He knew those eyes. So like those large fragile eyes that both attracted and repelled him….

     He'd played this moment in his head before. How he’d find the identity of Lexi’s mother, how he’d blackmail her, use the family connection to his benefit, but as he stared at her now, his cunning seemed to leave him. He only felt disgust and rage. This pathetic woman had sullied herself to the base pleasures of a muggle man. And when she had been left with the consequences of her despicable behavior, instead of guiding the child as a proper wizard, she had abandoned her to live amongst muggles who could never understand what she was. His mother had abandoned him in death, and that was contemptible, but this woman, she had chosen to leave her child alone. Despite still living. If it were possible, she was categorically worse.

     “Lexi is mine.” He heard himself hiss at the woman. “You’ll never see her. You don’t deserve to see her.”

     The woman let out a single pathetic pained sob.

     “You’re right. But I had to. I didn’t have a choice.”

     “Let me correct you. You were too weak to choose better. The pleasure of a muggle meant more to you than the witch child you produced. But she doesn’t need you. She’s mine. She only needs me.”

     “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.” The woman replied and soon the flames returned to their normal color and her image disappeared. It was too late when Voldemort realized that his rage had cost him the opportunity for exclusive knowledge and blackmail that he had long sought. But it didn’t matter. He could do without it. And so could she.

    “Lexi, come,” he whispered with his mind, and the girl grogglily appeared from the girl's dormitory.

     “Tom?” she murmured sleepily, and he forgave her in her state for using that muggle name. Wordlessly, he led her up to his dorm, and quietly concealed both of them inside the curtains of his four poster. Then he pulled her to him, and without another sound, they both closed their eyes and slept.

     A few weeks later, Lexi came up to breakfast and took her usual seat next to Eileen prince who was frowning at a letter in front of her.

     “Bad news?” Lexi asked. Eileen gave her a half-hearted smile.

     “My older sister. She ….” Eileen took a breath trying to think of a delicate way to say it, knowing how sensitive Lexi could be. But there was no truly gentle way to say that someone had taken their own life. “She’s no longer with us.” Lexi’s face filled with sympathy.

     “Oh Leeny. I’m so sorry.” Eileen merely shrugged.

     “Don’t be. We weren’t really close. She was 15 years older than me. She never did pay much attention to me. She got married when I was three and didn’t visit much after that.”

     “Oh. I’m sorry.”

     Eileen smiled then at her friend, affectionately sweeping a silky strand away from her soft face.

     “You apologize too much, Lex. You know that, right?”

     “Yes. I know.”

Chapter Text

Nobody liked Myrtle Warren. She was the type of girl that nice kids tried to be friendly with because they felt sorry she had no friends, only to soon realize why that was the case. Lexi hadn’t bothered trying to be Myrtle's friend. She knew Myrtle was muggleborn, and nobody of renown at school, therefore not the “right” type of friend that Lord Voldemort would have her seek out.

However, this year, the Slytherins had Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws and Dumbledore seemed to insist on grouping Myrtle with Eileen and her as no one else in the class seemed keen to tolerate her. Lexi always tried to give her a smile at least, but Myrtle never smiled back. She just eyed her suspiciously. Eileen hadn’t bothered smiling at Myrtle but that wasn’t unusual. She didn’t really bother smiling at anybody most of the time. When Lexi had whispered to Eileen that she ought to at least try to be friendly to Myrtle, that had only made Myrtle sulk and mutter throughout the lesson about how horrible they both were for talking about her behind her back. It only got worse when Eileen accidently misaimed her wand, turning Myrtle’s hair into straw when she had been supposed to turn a bundle of kindling into a broom.

Still, Dumbledore insisted they sit together. It was either with them or with Hornby and Hornby really was horrible to the Ravenclaw girl. So Transfiguration, one of Lexi’s favorite classes last year was now tedious and awkward.

Unfortunately however, the tediousness of having class with Myrtle Warren was fairly low on her list of worries as Slytherin's heir terrorized the student body. Several students had been found petrified, their frozen expressions of fear haunting the hallways. Rumors flew, and fear grew with each passing day. Lexi felt a gnawing unease every time she saw Lord Voldemort with his Knights now, as everything in Slytherin seemed to grow darker. She knew he was behind the attacks, him and the basilisk although he would never admit it directly.

“It unsettles you.” He spoke mentally to her one evening as they sat reading together in the common room. He had noticed the way she had stiffened when Mulciber had made a distasteful joke about the petrified bodies. She didn’t respond, but her continued stiff posture was answer enough. He leaned close, whispering in her ear, his breath tickling her skin.

“Mulciber is an imbecile, but trust me, all this is part of something bigger. There are reasons for all of this.” He said this kind of thing often. There were reasons. There was a plan. Everything was part of something bigger. But if that were so, he didn’t care to share the details with her, and she was honestly a little afraid to ask. He traced his fingers over the fabric of her robe, tracing the dark mark hidden beneath it perfectly, then turned to deliver an admonishment to Mulciber.

“There is a lady in our presence, gentlemen. Save your crude jokes and gestures for another time and place.” Mulciber’s face grew white and the Slytherins boys who had laughed grew quiet. He apologized immediately and then quickly, the subject was changed. Lord Voldemort smirked as he turned back to Lexi. The Slytherin boys all listened to Lord Voldemort’s every word. No one dared to contradict or challenge him.

“Now my dear, if you don’t wish to talk about this, let us speak of something else. How were your classes today?”

Lexi smiled, grateful that Lord Voldemort seemed to be genuinely interested and concerned for her. She did her best to push her worries out of her mind and talk with him, the way they used to. He smiled back encouragingly.

“Oh, pretty good, I guess. We brewed girding potion, which I think perhaps ought to he done somewhere other than the dungeon. That smell was horrid!”

“You’re not wrong. What else?” Voldemort replied after he gave an affectionate chuckle. It wasn’t so much that he actually cared what had happened in a second year’s classes, but he let her continue talking because he enjoyed the sound of her voice, her words lilting freely, and the little smile on her face as she spoke to him. Lately, with all the tension surrounding his work, she seemed to fret a lot, becoming increasingly quiet and reluctant around him. He had found that he actually missed the hum of her girlish chatter.

As for Lexi, when smiled at her, she forgot for a moment that she was speaking to Lord Voldemort, and it felt like it was just her and Tom again.

“Also, in Transfiguration, Eileen had transfigured Myrtle Warren’s hair into straw.”

“I’m sure that was quite a sight.”

“Yeah. Eileen swears it was an accident but I’m not really convinced. If it was on purpose, it wasn’t very nice. Myrtle was in tears. Although that’s not hard to do. She always seems unhappy.”

“Maybe because she doesn’t belong here.” Lexi knew well what he was suggesting but pretended not to, not wanting to spoil this precious opportunity with her beloved.

“Yes, well, Dumbledore keeps putting her with Eileen and me. And it makes for a rather awkward and tedious time in Transfiguration these days”

Voldemort nodded and smiled, giving his Lexi an affectionate pat on the head.

“I see. Well, I can take care of that problem for you.”

“Would you? How?” He winked at her, making her melt inside, before the true realization of how Voldemort was likely to fix problems set in. She froze.

“Oh, it’s nothing, really. Don’t worry about, Lord Voldemort. I’m sure you have more important things to do.”

“On the contrary. This works out perfectly for me. But I don’t want you to worry about it at all. Let’s keep talking. I’ve missed this.”

They continued talking but Lexi wasn’t sure what was coming out of her mouth at this point. All she had wanted was to talk to Tom the way she used to. About anything and everything. But he wasn’t Tom anymore. He was Lord Voldemort. And she both loved and feared him.

Chapter Text

“Hey. You going to class today?” Eileen Prince asked in an uncharacteristically gentle voice as she pulled back the curtains on the bed next to hers in the Slytherin girls’ dormitory. It took everything Lexi had in her just to sit up and wordlessly shake her head as she accepted the glass of water Eileen offered her. Eileen ran a frustrated hand through her dark hair and sighed. “Okay. But at least try to get up a little today. Take a bath. Eat something, yeah?”

Lexi nodded obediently but her friend knew it didn’t mean anything. She had been lying in bed barely able to do anything more than blink or nod for the last three days. Eileen was sure it had something to do with Myrtle Warren, since she’d been like this ever since Hornby had come shrieking like a banshee when she found Myrtle’s body in the girl’s washroom. Lexi felt guilty somehow. Responsible. As if she could have somehow singlehandedly prevented it from happening. Which was absolute rubbish. Even if they’d been bosom buddies with that sodding crybaby, it probably still would have happened. If not her, then it just would have been someone else.

It was only a matter of time before that creature the Gryffindor kid had brought in the castle killed someone, right? You couldn’t control beasts like that. You just couldn’t. At first Eileen had wondered if Riddle had had something to do with the death and that’s what was bothering Lexi. But Riddle had caught the culprit yesterday, so at least that wasn’t it.

She wished Lexi didn’t feel so guilty. She was just too good, too tender hearted to be a Slytherin. And yet here they both were, and she was doing a shite job at protecting her right now. It made Eileen feel like the helpless little kid she’d always felt like at home before Hogwarts. Before Lex. “I’ll come check on you after charms, alright?” she said, gently tucking Lexi’s stringy hair behind her ears. This time Lexi leaned forward and clung to her. Her embrace was warm and soft, and Eileen’s heart melted and broke at the same time.

“It’s gonna be alright, Kid. You’ll see.” She muttered into Lexi’s hair, but she had no idea whether it was the truth. After an immeasurable moment, the two girls released their embrace, and Eileen left for class.

“Is she coming?” The voice of Tom Riddle startled Eileen as she made her way into the common room. She shrugged.

“She wants to stay in bed.” A slight twitch of annoyance betrayed the prefect’s otherwise impassive face.

“Have you gotten her to eat anything?” Eileen shook her head and Riddle scoffed irritably. “Fine. I’ll do it.” Eileen nodded and left him to it. She didn’t like Riddle. Or Volda-whatever his cronies were calling him these days, but if Lexi were to get out of bed for anything it’d be for him. So she left him to it. Back in the girl’s dormitory, Lexi lay in bed staring blankly at the emerald green canopy of her four-poster. Eileen had told her she ought to get up, to eat something, or maybe take a bath. Lexi knew she was right, knew she should be in class right now, but the very thought of moving felt impossible. It was as if her limbs were made of lead, every ounce of energy drained by the guilt gnawing away at her. The memory of Hornby’s panicked scream, of Myrtle’s lifeless body as Dippet and Dumbledore hurriedly carried it out of the washroom , of the immediate sense of dread that hit her, the sudden realization of exactly how and why Mrytle had died, replayed endlessly in her mind. Each time it did, the guilt weighed heavier, pressing her deeper into the mattress, suffocating her under its invisible burden. The physical act of standing, of walking out the dormitory door, seemed insurmountable. She was exhausted, not just from lack of sleep, but from an unrelenting, crushing guilt that left her numb and hollow.

"Lexi, come." Lord Voldemort’s command penetrated her mind, clear and sharp. He wanted her. Even now, the instinct to obey him stirred within her, but her body resisted, heavy and unyielding. Every part of her being seemed to reject the idea of moving from this spot. Time became a blur, the minutes stretching endlessly as she lay motionless. Then, he called her again, more insistent this time, the dark mark on her arm buzzing with a searing heat that she couldn’t ignore.

"Lexi. Now." She forced herself to respond, dragging her feet off the side of the bed with agonizing slowness. It felt as though she was wading through thick, suffocating fog, every movement a monumental effort. She had no sense of how long it took, only that each step was a battle. But eventually, she found herself standing before Lord Voldemort, her body weak, but her loyalty unquestionable.

“Sit,” he commanded, motioning to the seat next to him on the sofa and she complied. He looked her over, cold and appraising as he took in her fragile state. She was pale, eyes hollowed by sleeplessness, and she seemed utterly diminished, a shadow of the warm, adoring, bright eyed beauty he’d grown accustomed to having at his side. She was so bloody weak. And it annoyed him. There was no reason for her to be upset, no reason for this pathetic display.

That stupid sniveling mudblood girl was never anything more than an inconvenience, and he had dealt with it. He’d done it for her, actually. He could have just as easily chosen anyone for the basilisk to kill, but he'd targeted that particular snot nosed bespectacled horror because his Lexi had complained about her. She was an inconvenience for Lexi that he had removed. Lexi should be grateful, pleased even, that he had taken care of her problem, and in doing so furthered his own plans. But instead she sat here before him, limp and lifeless as if the world had ended. No matter. He’d snap her out of it.

“You will eat,” he commanded, glancing to a tray of fruit and bread on the side table he had brought down for her from breakfast. She blinked at him as if dazed, but made no move to comply. A wave of annoyance surged through him, but he quelled it, sliding closer, so that their bodies were touching. If she wouldn’t do as she was told on her own, then he would make her. He picked up a grape from the tray and held it to her lips. "Eat," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. Lexi hesitated, but under his piercing gaze, she opened her mouth. Voldemort carefully slipped the food inside, watching her chew with an almost clinical detachment. But As he continued to feed her, a strange sensation began to creep over him. Her plump pink lips brushed against his fingertips, and he found himself distracted by the most ridiculous details of her form, the delicate curve of her neck, the way her hair, even tangled and unwashed, so perfectly framed her face, brushing her cheeks. It was an unwelcome distraction, one he wasn’t accustomed to feeling. Physical attraction was beneath him, a base instinct he typically ignored. But here, in this intimate act of feeding her, it stirred within him, and it only added to his irritation.

As she drank, his eyes traced the delicate line of her throat, the way it moved with each swallow. He was thorough, methodical, as he cared for her, ensuring she consumed enough before moving on to the next task. But as he watched her, those feelings stirred within him—feelings he rarely entertained. The sight of her lips, slightly parted as she sipped from the cup, drew his attention in a way that was unsettling. They were soft, a faint flush of color returning to them as she drank, and he found himself staring longer than necessary, thinking of the way it had felt when he had kissed her this past summer.

He finished giving her the drink, his knuckles brushing against her skin, noticing how smooth and warm it felt beneath his touch. The contact was fleeting, but it sent a spark through him that only heightened his irritation. This was not how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to be his devoted follower, not the source of these inconvenient desires. He forced himself to focus, to bury the unwanted thoughts beneath his usual cold calculation, but the pull of her presence was harder to ignore than he wanted to admit. On to the next task then.

“When did you last bathe?” She blinked at that, seeming a bit more coherent as a slight blush prickled her cheeks. She looked better like that, more like his Lexi. His treatment seemed to be working.

“You need a bath,” he repeated.

“Yes,” she agreed but made no move to comply with his implied command. He exhaled in annoyance. It seemed he’d have to do that for her as well. Fine then. He stood up and wordlessly picked her up, carrying her towards the bathroom.

Chapter Text

Being carried in Lord Voldemort’s arms was the most soothing thing Lexi could ever remember feeling. She laid her head against his shoulder and clung tightly to him like a miserably ill child, desperate for comfort. It didn’t make everything magically go away, but it was a soothing balm, his aura caressing her, wrapping her securely within his familiar presence. In some vague drifting place in her mind she wondered at how he could be both the poison she took and the antidote she required.

Voldemort smiled as she relaxed against him. His care seemed to be improving her condition as he had hoped. He pushed his own energy and will into hers, gently, subtly, coiling around her soul like a serpent. By the time he sat her down in the bathroom, there seemed to be a bit more color to her cheeks, a bit more coherence to her gaze. He stopped up the tub and turned on the tap, adjusting the water to an optimal temperature, then he turned back to his Lexi, expectantly, to see her still standing there, doing nothing. Under his gaze she seemed to recognize that he’s expecting something, but her brain wouldn’t tell her what that is.

“Well you cant bathe in your robes, can you?” Voldemort stated impatiently. Lexi, suddenly realizing what she’s meant to do blushed and stammered.

“I um, well I guess not but…” Voldemort moved forward to shush her, concentrating on projecting the desired calmness into her mind as he asserted his command again.
“Robes off,” he replied, in the firm commanding tone he used with his followers and grinned as he watched his Lexi begin to comply. She fumbled with the ties of her robes, her movements slow and unsteady. He sighed and took them into his own hands, deftly loosening the ties, and slipping them off of her shoulders and down the contours of her body, letting them fall to the cold flagstone floor.

Voldemort’s eyes flickered over her naked, trembling form observing parts of her he’d never viewed or envisioned before. She was soft, warm, feminine. He couldn’t help but notice that she was no longer the tiny slip of a girl he had first manipulated into his service. Her body had changed quite a bit, soft curves replacing the slender angles of her childhood. He observed the subtle rise and fall of her chest, the gentle slope of her waist, and the way her skin seemed to flush under his scrutiny.
He could have ordered Lexi to step into the tub and waited for her to comply, but instead, he lifted her himself, the unconscious urge to feel the softness of her flesh driving him forward. She was light in his arms, her body yielding to his touch, and for a brief moment, he was acutely aware of how easily he could crush her, both physically and mentally. She was small, fragile, vulnerable. Weak. But it didn’t anger him just now as any sign of weakness typically did. Rather, he only wanted to push her farther, exert his will more. But to what end? What did he desire from her exactly?

He lowered her into the bath, the warm water enveloping her, steam rising to meet his cool expression. He kept his expression carefully neutral, but his gaze betrayed him, lingering on the way her body moved beneath the surface, the water accentuating every curve and line.
"Relax," he commanded softly, though the word felt oddly foreign on his tongue. He dipped the sponge into the water and began to wash her with slow, deliberate motions, his touch firm but not harsh. It was an act of control, he told himself—a necessary step in bringing her back to herself. But as the sponge traced the contours of her body, he felt an uncharacteristic heat rising within him, unable to distance himself from the all too mundane trappings of a common mortal man. He wanted her. And he could have her. She wouldn’t refuse him, he was sure of it. But could he really let himself fall to such filthy base instincts?

For the first time in a long time, Lexi felt soothed and warm, letting herself be enveloped in the warmth of the water and the sedating bliss that Voldemort was projecting into her mind. Some vague part of her was still aware of what had happened to Myrtle Warren, the horror of it, the guilt that should have weighed on her—but those thoughts floated somewhere just out of reach, hazy and inconsequential. Another part of her recognized that her body was completely exposed before Lord Voldemort, vulnerable and unguarded, but even that awareness was distant, like a dull echo in the back of her mind.

His presence swaddled her like a dark, comforting blanket, wrapping around her until the world beyond the steam and warmth of the bath ceased to exist. The gentle pulse of her dark mark seemed to radiate in sync with his energy, a tether that linked them in a way she couldn’t fully grasp. In the haze, she could sense the way his gaze lingered, a heat so different from the cool controlled composure she usually felt from him. It made her feel both unsettled and…something else she didn’t want to name. Was it comfort? Desire? Her thoughts blurred together, dissolving as quickly as they formed, leaving only the sensation of his hands moving across her skin and the silent connection that buzzed between them. She couldn’t tell if it was his will pressing into her, or something of her own longing, but in that moment, she found she didn’t care

Voldemort slipped his fingers into her damp hair, pulling her towards him, tilting her head back to grant him better access to her slightly parted lips. She gasped into his mouth, and for a moment, as he returned her affection in a way she’d always dreamed of, everything felt right again.
Thoughts and emotions flowed freely between them, their auras mingling, blurring the lines between self and other. It was intoxicating, a heady mix of desire, power, and something darker that lurked just beneath the surface. Lexi felt her heart quicken, a flicker of warmth and longing that she hadn’t realized she still harbored. His need for control, his cold detachment, all melted away in the heat of the kiss, revealing a raw hunger that she both craved and feared.
But as their connection deepened, the intensity became too much. Lexi’s mind brushed against something vast and terrifying within him—an endless abyss of darkness, filled with rage, ambition, and cruelty. She could feel his desires clawing at her, not just for her body, but for her soul, to consume and possess her utterly. Her own fears and doubts rose in response, mingling with his darkness until it became impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.
Voldemort, too, felt the effects of their connection. He was used to domination, to control, but this—this was different. He could sense her fear, her vulnerability, and it excited him. But he also felt her spirit, the part of her she didn’t even fully realize existed that resisted, that dared to question him, and it enraged him. He realized with a growing sense of unease just how deeply he wanted her, not merely as a tool, but as something much more. And that realization shook him to his core. Suddenly, the kiss wasn’t just a kiss—it was a struggle, a battle for dominance and ownership of her very soul, a battle that neither could win. The overwhelming flood of emotion and thought threatened to drown them both.

Voldemort pulled away first, breaking their connection with a sharp intake of breath. Lexi gasped, her chest heaving, as she felt the sudden void left by his retreat. The warmth and comfort that had enveloped her only moments before were gone, replaced by a suffocating emptiness. She felt cold, exposed, and more alone than ever. But she was awake. She was coherent. He had succeeded in his initial intentions. He’d better leave it at this before he let himself fall prey to his own desires that only she had ever managed to pull out of him.

He turned away from her for a moment and then turned back, a more composed mask in place.
“You seem better,” he stated coldly, using ever ounce of resolve he had to force himself not to look at her trembling form still vulnerable and practically begging to be claimed before him.
“Lord Vol -” He held up a hand and shushed her.

“No more of this. Get dressed. Go to class ….” He took a breath and then added, although he wasn’t sure why, “And sit next to me at dinner.” Lexi nodded. She wasn’t overjoyed the way she had been last year when he’d promised to let her sit next to him at breakfast, and he didn’t like that. But she agreed, and that was enough. He turned and left her to look after herself.

Chapter Text

It always started the same way. With her eyes. He didn’t know what charm they held that so drew him to them, and plumbed his thoughts into such depths, but it always started there. Those large brown eyes that somehow contained everything he despised and yet everything he wanted. Their image would flash in his brain, completely unbidden, with that bewildered look she’d had after he’d kissed her in the bathroom, her flesh trembling beneath his fingertips.

That very day he could have lifted her up out the water, pushed her against the side of the tub, held her there by her neck while he satisfied those base instincts she insisted on drawing out of him, watching her face turn white and then start to turn blue, releasing her just as he finished to see her coughing and gasping for air, her soft breasts bouncing as a mixture of filthy fluids, the blood of her innocence, and his seed, dripped from her into the bath. She’d let him do it. He knew she would.

She’d do anything he asked of her. He truly believed that with the right method of convincing, nothing was off the table. So he’d taken to imagining the ways he’d like to make use of her, and surprised even himself with his dark musings.

When he awoke at night now, he had found a surprising way of soothing himself back to sleep. Lying in his bed, stroking himself, thinking of all the things he could do, how she’d look as he defiled her.

She’d be reading next to him, her brow creased as she muttered facts she was trying to memorize to herself, and when she opened her mouth to speak, he’d stick his wand down her throat. When she gagged and looked up at him with confusion, he’d grab her soft silky hair at the base of her skull, pull her down and replace the wand with his cock. She’d have tears forming in her eyes as he thrust into her throat, but he she wouldn’t stop him.

He could call her to his bed, right now, use a cutting spell to rend her night robes, push her head down into the pillow to muffle her screams as he took her from behind.

He could take her to the chamber of secrets. She’d blindly follow. He’d blindfold her so the basilisk can’t harm her, then he’d let the serpent hold her body down while he took his pleasure from it. That one. That’s the one that usually got him there.

His Lexi. She'd let him do it. She’d do whatever he wanted her to. She’d let him do whatever he wanted with her. It was stupid, and weak, and pathetic of her, but he didn’t care about that right now. All he could think of is looking in those eyes, claiming her, spilling his seed in her, or maybe on her…all over her stupidly adorable little face. He finished, his breath ragged, cleaned himself off, and found sleep surprisingly easily.

In the morning, when she sat with him at breakfast, he’d smile at her, and she’d smile back, gently. She’d have no idea the things he thought about doing to her. Good thing he was a practiced occlumenist.

Chapter Text

“But you don’t usually care to go to Hogsmeade” Lexi tried to keep the whining tone out of her voice and sound merely casually interested when Voldemort had canceled plans to help her with her potions essay to partake instead in a Hogsmeade visit. As a second year, Lexi was still not allowed to go, and Voldemort typically didn’t care to, not seeing the point in wasting time in the sweet shops and cafes that other students seemed so keen on. But this time, he was going.

 Over the past several weeks, he had been more attentive to her, keeping her close and doting on her the way he used to at the orphanage, and despite everything that had happened, or perhaps because of it, Lexi had found herself soothed by the familiar. The attacks on students had stopped, and Voldemort no longer spoke of murderous intent to her, so she tried to forget about what had happened, and put the recent tragedy behind her as things seemed to be returning to normal. But the pending idea of any form of separation from him unsettled her deeply.

“Stupid girl,” he replied with a scoff that contrasted with the way he gently fingered the endpeice of her braid. “Im not going for a Hogsmeade trip.”

“But you said-” He cut her short.

“I’m going to Hogsmeade because it’s the nearest place to here that one can apperate.” She paused, taking in his meaning and whispered to him.

“Why? Where are you really going?”

“ I’m going to get a job. So that I don’t have to go back to that filthy muggle hovel over the summer. Dippet let Dumbledore talk him out of letting me live here over the summer. So I shall have to look elsewhere of my own accord.”

Lexi frowned. She knew Tom had always hated the orphanage, and his scorn for the place and its meager inhabitants had only grown since learning of his true heritage, but she never considered that he might go anywhere else before finishing school . He couldn’t leave her alone all summer. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Would he?

Lord Voldemort sensed his Lexi’s growing panic but refused to let her indulge in such foolishness.

“You’ll tag along, of course,” he said. It wasn’t a question or invitation. If anything, it was an order, but to his annoyance, she didn’t smile with grateful relief. Instead she knit her eyebrows and wrinkled her little nose.

“To Hogsmeade? Or to your job? I’m not old enough for either.” At that, he punished her a bit by digging his nails into the soft, plump flesh of her cheeks as he pulled her chin up to force her to look at him, enjoying the way she grimaced with discomfort but didn’t even think to loosen his grip.

“Don’t worry about details that don’t concern you. I say come with me. Do you not wish to?” She blinked.

“Of course I do.”

“Then be glad I want you there and stop asking stupid questions. Be ready to depart with me in the morning.”

With that, he patted her thigh, giving her the nonverbal command to rise from his lap as he could sense other students approaching the common room and did not show her that level of physical affection at Hogwarts when others were present. Lexi obeyed, and the subject was left alone for the evening.

He summoned her early the next morning, while most students were still sleeping, and led her through the secret passage that would set them outside the grounds of the castle without Lexi being stopped by the grounds keeper when he let students out the gate for the Hogsmeade trip. Soon they were outside, finding themselves on a cliff overlooking Hogsmeade proper, and he felt the ancient magic wards protecting the castle grounds fading into a dim hum behind them. Immediately, in one fluid motion, he withdrew his wand and pulled the younger student flush against him, snaking an arm around her waist.

Lexi’s heart jumped into her throat at his sudden move and she didn’t have time to ascertain whether it was attraction or apprehension before everything went black and her whole body felt violently squished as if being put under one of the military tanks she’d seen on the muggle news reels. When her vision began to returned she felt dizzy and nauseous, having to lean against Voldemort to keep from falling over.

“You’ll get used to it,” he said dismissively as he steadied her, not bothering to explain what had happened. But he waited patiently for her to get her bearings, keeping a steady hand on the small of her back. When she finally felt well enough to look up and take in her surroundings she realized they were neither at Hogwarts nor Hogsmeade. The buildings were in similar style to Diagon Alley, but darker somehow. Her instincts told her this was a place to be frightened of, a place she wouldn’t want to go alone, but somehow Voldemort, despite his youth and beauty, seemed to fit here, more at home in the shadows of these shops than he’d ever been within the walls of Wool’s

“We’re in Knockturn Alley,” he said, a sly grin on his face. “This is where wizards with the proper ambitions find the means to pursue them.”

Lexi nodded but kept close to him, unnerved by the few shadowy figures she glimpsed out of the corner of her eye. Voldemort's presence was the only thing that stopped her from turning and running. He led her through the alley, not sparing a glance at the dark, crumbling storefronts until they reached one in particular: Borgin and Burkes.

“Listen carefully, Lexi,” Voldemort said, stopping just outside the shop and turning to face her. His voice was low and commanding, forcing her to focus. “I have no intention of going back to that wretched orphanage for another summer. Dumbledore may have blocked me from staying at Hogwarts, but I’ll find my own way to remain free.”

Lexi swallowed, nodding. She still didn’t understand how this connected to her, but she knew better than to interrupt him.

“I’m going to get a job here,” Voldemort continued, his lip curling in distaste as he gestured toward the dusty sign of Borgin and Burkes. “They deal in magical artifacts. things that are rare and powerful. But Borgin”—his tone shifted, dripping with contempt—“is a greedy man. He needs to see potential for profit. That’s where you come in.” She blinked, unsure of what he meant.

“You will ask questions,” he explained. “Specific ones about the most dangerous objects. I want him to see that there is interest in what he sells—and more importantly, that I am a knowledgeable salesperson who can talk you into buying from him. You’ll inquire about something dark and powerful, something that can be used to silence your academic rivals.”

“Silence…?” she began to ask, her stomach tightening with uncertainty, but he cut her off with an impatient wave of his hand, and he responded in a somewhat annoyed vaguely condescending tone as if he was talking to a particularly slow but likable child.

“Yes. Don’t worry. Im not expecting you to act on anything. You merely need him to think you're desperate for power. Desperation is leverage, and Borgin is a man who knows how to exploit it. You’ll ask about the Hand of Glory. It’s a shriveled, mummified hand that allows its wielder to move unseen in complete darkness. Use your imagination as to why someone would want to use that to silence an academic rival and shape your questions accordingly ” Lexi was already skilled at hiding in the shadows, and she wasn’t sure how a mummy hand might aid in that, but she understood Voldemort’s implications. She shuddered at the idea but nodded obediently.

“Good,” Voldemort said, and then, with a flick of his wrist, produced several heavy gold Galleons from within his robes. He pressed them into her hand. “You’ll purchase it, under my guidance. Borgin will see the transaction, and once he does, I’ll make him realize that he needs someone with my talents.”

She stared down at the coins, wondering where he had gotten so much money. Voldemort wasn’t wealthy; she knew that much. But the question lodged in her throat and she dared not ask. Instead, she swallowed and nodded again.

“Excellent.” Voldemort’s eyes gleamed as he gave her a quick, affectionate pat and then pushed open the door to Borgin and Burkes.

The interior of the shop was even more unsettling than the outside. Dim, flickering light barely illuminated the rows of shelves crammed with dark and twisted objects. Lexi caught sight of a shrunken head on display, its hollow eyes staring blankly back at her. The smell of dust and decay hung heavy in the air. Every surface seemed to gleam with a sinister history, and Lexi felt her skin crawl as they moved further inside.

Behind the counter, a greasy-looking man with thinning hair and a smarmy grin turned toward them. His eyes lingered on Voldemort for a moment but then flickered to Lexi leering at her body in a way that made her want to hide behind Voldemort.

“Welcome,” the man greeted Voldemort with a clammy handshake and a voice as oily as his appearance. “What brings you in today, young Sir? Looking to purchase something extraordinary to impress your little girlfriend?” Voldemort shook his head, but didn’t dispute it when the man had called Lexi his girlfriend. She felt a little foolish for it, but couldn’t help but feel a bit pleased with that.

“Oh, no. I’m not purchasing. She’s the one with the galleons and the problem. I’m merely here to help ascertain the value of the artifacts and guide her to a viable solution.” At this, Borgin shifted his gaze to Lexi, and his smile widened, revealing yellowed teeth.

“Oh, ho! A beauty with money and a problem my shop can help solve. This is exciting! What’s the problem then, pretty thing?” Voldemort gave her a meaningful mental nudge that made her dark mark prickle.

“There’s... someone,” she stammered, “an academic rival, someone who’s getting in my way. I need to stop them—silence them before they can sabotage me.” She heard herself easily spin the tale for the role Voldemort had put her in.

Borgin’s eyes lit up with interest. “A young lady with ambition. I like that. lessee here…” He pursed his lips as if thinking hard.

“If I might make some suggestions,” Tom spoke. Voldemort’s eyes gleamed with cold calculation as Borgin leaned in closer, his smarmy smile never leaving his face. Lexi shifted uncomfortably under the weight of Borgin's leer, but Voldemort’s hand at the small of her back kept her in place. She wasn’t sure if it was for comfort or control.

“Now,” Voldemort began, his voice smooth as silk, “the Hand of Glory is an exceptionally rare item. It grants the wielder the power to move unseen in total darkness. Imagine it, Lexi—your academic rival, thinking they’ve found safety in the shadows, or protection in a darkened corridor. But with the Hand of Glory, you would walk undetected, unseen. You could be right beside them, ready to strike, and they wouldn’t even know it until it was too late.”

Lexi swallowed hard. He made it sound so easy, so inevitable. Borgin’s eyes darted between the two, watching Voldemort’s performance with increasing interest.

Voldemort continued, his voice low and persuasive. “It’s the perfect tool for someone in your position. You’re small, already skilled at slipping into places unnoticed, but with this”—he gestured to the withered hand sitting in a dusty glass case—“you would be unstoppable. You could end their interference without even having to lift a finger. The hand will do it for you.”

Borgin gave a wheezy chuckle. “Oh, he’s good, ain’t he?” He turned to Lexi, rubbing his hands together. “The Hand of Glory is exactly what you need, my dear. Your lad is absolutely right. You’d be able to get rid of any problem standing in your way, and no one would be the wiser.”

Lexi’s heart raced. She knew this was all part of Voldemort’s plan, but hearing him describe it so vividly made the scenario feel dangerously real. Her hand tightened around the coins he had pressed into her palm earlier.

“Now, of course,” Voldemort continued smoothly, his tone turning to one of casual authority, “something of this power doesn’t come cheap. An artifact that can alter the very nature of power dynamics? That kind of advantage is worth far more than just a few galleons.” He paused, letting the weight of his words hang in the air. “But, for you, Lexi, it’s essential. It’s not a matter of if you need it. It’s when.”

He turned to her, his cold eyes boring into hers with a calculating intensity. “You have the means. Don’t you?” It wasn’t a question; it was a command. She felt her stomach knot but nodded silently.

Borgin’s grin widened. “A right little salesman, aren’t you, lad?” he croaked, clearly impressed with how Voldemort had framed the purchase. “He’s right, my dear. With this, you’ll be on top in no time. No one will be able to touch you.”

Voldemort gave Lexi a slight nod, urging her to step forward and complete the transaction. Hesitant but obedient, she placed the gold Galleons on the counter, each one clinking ominously as it hit the surface. Borgin’s eyes gleamed with greed as he swept the coins into his hand, pocketing them quickly.

“Well, well,” Borgin said, clearly pleased with the sale. “You’ve got a sharp eye for these things, boy. You could make quite the profit if you ever decided to go into business. Mr ...?”

Voldemort smiled, though the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “Tom Riddle, Sir." Lexi noted the use of his birth name, rather than the secret name he was now known by to his followers. "Funny you should say that, Mr. Borgin. I was thinking the very same thing.” He folded his arms, his stance confident and assertive. “In fact, it’s precisely why I’m here today. You see, I have no intention of returning to my… less-than-desirable living situation this summer. I’m in need of employment. Temporary, of course. But I believe I could be of some use to you.”

Borgin raised a greasy eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? What makes you think I need an extra pair of hands?”

Voldemort’s smile grew colder. “Because I can do what you can’t. You see, people trust me. They listen to me. You just witnessed how easily I convinced her to part with her gold”—he gestured to Lexi—“and I can do the same for others. I understand your clientele. More importantly, I understand ambition and power. People don’t just want to buy trinkets. They want to buy solutions. Control. And I can sell that better than anyone.”

Borgin considered him for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he appraised the young wizard before him. “You’ve got quite the silver tongue, lad. I’ll give you that.” He stroked his chin, his grin returning. “Alright then, I’ll take you on. Let’s see what you can do. But don’t think I’ll be paying you in Galleons right off. You said you need a place to stay. I happen to have a small flat above the shop. It ain’t Camelot but it’ll do for you. And if you can prove your worth, I might start sharing in the profits.”

Voldemort’s smile remained firmly in place, though his eyes flashed with the briefest hint of something darker. “Of course, Mr. Borgin. I wouldn’t expect anything less.” He glanced at Lexi and then back at the shopkeeper. “I’ll prove my worth soon enough.”

Borgin chuckled, clearly satisfied with himself. “Alright, boy. Consider yourself hired.” He clearly thought he was getting a bargain, taking on this clever, talented boy as a sort of indentured servant.

As Borgin turned away, Voldemort’s hand slid to Lexi’s shoulder, his grip firm. “Let’s go,” he said softly, leading her out of the shop.

Once they were outside, Lexi finally let out the breath she had been holding, her head spinning from everything that had just happened. But Voldemort didn’t look at her. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, his mind clearly on far greater things than a simple job at Borgin and Burkes. His arm reached out for her, pulling her to his side. Without looking at her, his hand tangled in her hair and he bent down to place a kiss at the at the place where her jawline met her earlobe, sending an icy hot shiver down her neck before releasing her again.

“You preformed well,” he praised. Lexi didn’t smile in response.

“Will you at least write me this summer?” she asked, feeling very small and lost. Voldemort gave her an annoyed glance as if she had just said something profoundly idiotic.

“Why would I write to someone who’s living with me?"

Chapter Text

Dear Leeny,

I hope you’re having a decent summer so far and your parents aren’t being too difficult. Is your Pippy still ill? I remember you mentioning that right before summer holiday started. I thought I had read somewhere that house elves don’t often take ill, but then again I suppose there’s a lot I still don’t know about the Wizarding world having lived around muggles my whole life. I’m happy to say though that I didn’t have to return to the orphanage this summer. Tom and I have our very own flat! We’re staying above Borgin & Burkes on Knockturn Alley. Do you know it? Mr. Borgin says it’s an antique shop but the antiques all seem to be of a particular sort. Mostly things you probably wouldn’t find in a shop on Diagon Alley or at Hogsmeade if you know what I mean. It’s quite interesting but also a bit scary. Sorry I couldn’t tell you before summer started. Tom didn’t want me telling anyone while we were at school because he didn’t want any professors interfering since technically the orphanage is still responsible for my legal guardianship but I suppose they don’t mind because no one has said anything about my being here.

Tom works for Mr. Borgin during the day and runs errands for him, and sometimes I go down to the shop and look around a bit but mostly I just stay upstairs. Mr. Borgin makes me feel rather nervous. I suppose maybe it’s just how he is but he always seems to be staring at me when I come downstairs. I hope he doesn’t think I’d try to steal from him. I’d never, especially not with Tom working there. He does let me look after his owls though. This tawny that brought you the letter is named Hareton. I named him because Mr. Borgin had never bothered. Who has owls and doesn’t name them?

Anyway like I said, I stay upstairs mostly because I don’t like being alone with Mr. Borgin, and some of the patrons to the store are a bit intimidating. I’m fairly certain the old woman who was in here yesterday was actually a hag. Also, Tom’s forbidden me going out alone so I’m here upstairs bored out of my skull when he’s away. I could use some company Leeny. Or at least a letter. I hope you can write back and I’ll ask Tom if it’s alright if you can come for a visit during the day. I hope you can come and I hope Tom will say yes to your visit. I miss you!

My Love Always,

Lexi

My Dearest Lexi,

 I’m glad you wrote me. I was surprised to hear from you and hear about the changes in your living situation. I do know the shop you’re talking about. My father frequents it actually and maybe I will visit if my parents let me.

You shouldn’t have to ask Riddle if I can come though. It’s your flat too isn’t it? And he’s probably not even going to be there so what concern is it of his? He’s not your father and as much as you probably wish he was, he’s not your husband either. You don’t have to ask him for permission for things. I would advise you to be cautious around Mr. Borgin. I’ve met him and he seems a particularly slimy little grindylow. I wouldn’t trust him. Write back and let me know when I might come over. I’d love to see you and keep you company.

Love,

Eileen

Leeny,

Sorry it took me a few days to write back. Your owl is cute.One of his feathers fell off while he was here and im keeping it. Is he molting? Linton is molting. That’s Mr. Borgin’s other owl. You’ve not seen him yet but I won’t be sending him since he seems to be in a bit of a foul mood and I don’t want to stress him.

Unfortunately I don’t believe you’ll be able to visit me here. Tom doesn’t want anyone else in the flat and I can’t go out on my own. Maybe one day when he’s not working I can talk him into side alonging me to your place or getting me some floo powder maybe. I’m so bored though! I have plenty of books and I do a lot of reading and studying for next year, but there’s so little else for me to do during the day. I look after the chores a bit and Tom even lets me cook for him sometimes. I’m still learning. I’m not very good at it yet. Of course he’s wonderful at it. Merlin, is ther anything he’s not good at? But that’s pretty much all there is to do. At the orphanage we went to the sea every summer. But this summer I’m stuck in this little flat all day and it’s becoming maddening.

I shouldn’t complain though. I get to live alone with Tom Marvolo Riddle. There’s a lot of girls who would literally kill to be in my position. By the way, we’ve kissed, Leeny. More than once now. I cant describe how that feels if you’ve never done it. But you feel it in your whole body straight into your soul. Or at least that’s how it is with Tom. Maybe he’s not my husband or even my boyfriend yet, but he could be one day, right? We’re already living together after all. And we’ve kissed. It’s a logical next step, isn’t it? I hope it is, but it’s difficult to tell with Tom sometimes. I’ll let you know what he says when I ask him. I really do hope I can see you this summer.

Love Always,

Lexx

A loud slamming of the door caused Lexi to jump making Hareton scratch her arm as she sent him out the window with her letter to Eileen. She turned around to see a very irritable Voldemort slamming himself down onto the well worn sofa in the small livingroom/dining area of the flat. She could feel the stress and annoyance radiating off of him like heat.

“Are you alright?”

Voldemort sat there slumped back with his eyes closed, slowly exhaling his annoyance. This job was beneath him already. A sales clerk? Even at a shop that sold such interesting and useful artifacts, he was far better than that. It felt so beneath him to have to cater to the whims and tastes of the more morally flexible side of wealthy Wizarding families who typically seemed to have more galleons than any true sense of intelligence. True, it provided him some opportunity to mingle with the elite, and to mentally catalog exactly which individuals have useful treasures or skills that might benefit him at some point, but dealing with these lackwits within th e confines of such a position was taking a mental toll on him. He needed a way to let off some steam. Perhaps some dueling…or maybe something a bit darker…

“Would you like some tea?” His Lexi’s bell like voice cut into his inner thoughts. He opened his eyes and gave her a well practiced smile.

“No, no. Just sit.” Obediently, she sits next to him, turning towards him. He could smell her familiar scent, feel her aura brushing gently against his own. He pulled her closer to him, into his lap and planted a kiss on the top of her head and inhaled her, feeling the heat of her body against him. His body responded, tensing in a different way, in all too typical mortal man fashion.

He thought then of a few things that would be rather effective at relieving his stress after such a day. All the dark fantasies he’d secretly indulged in with her soft yielding flesh and luminous brown eyes at its focus. He’d never doubted she would allow him to take such liberties without protest if he pushed. But he hadn’t before. What if he hurt her in a noticeable way? It would be a problem if a professor found out. But here that wasn’t an issue, was it? Here, she was his alone and if something happened Lexi would tolerate it beautifully, and there would be no one else to question it. He found his hands now casually wandering her body as his thoughts wandered with them.

Lexi shivered a bit, startled by his intimate touch, but drawn to it as well. Her body felt like fire as Lord Voldemort’s hands moved over parts of her that had never been touched before. She had no name for the feelings that sprung forth at his fingertips, but she knew she wanted it, whatever it was, wanted whatever he wanted of her. She could feel a tingling heat within her core making her desire things she could neither imagine nor speak.

Voldemort smirked as he felt her form melt so easily under him.

“I’ll take that tea now” he commanded, his mood lightening as he flexed his control in such a delicious manner. She quickly jumped to do as he asked.

At night they shared the same single bed. They had done so often at the orphanage, and even occasionally at Hogwarts, but now... something was different. Voldemort knew he had her all to himself with no one to answer to. He had taken to exploring her body while she slept, contemplating the implications of enacting the rough all too human passions on her that she continued to draw out of him. He imagined taking her as she slept, slipping her nightdress up, revealing her white cotton knickers, sliding them down and…if she protested (and she wouldn’t) he could easily bend her to his will. And if it he took things too far….well, he could obliterate her, couldn’t he?

As the summer wore on, Lexi began to notice a  change in the way Voldemort interacted with her at night. She had grown accustomed to his presence in the bed beside her, the feeling of his body close to hers, the warmth and security it provided even as he lay ridged. The two orphans had slept soundly next to each other as if it was the most natural thing in the world. But now, something was different. Lexi would wake up in the morning to find her clothes disheveled, her skin flushed and tingling with a sensation she couldn't quite place. She would catch glimpses of Voldemort's fingers trailing over her curves, his touch lingering in a way that sent shivers down her spine. It wasn't until she caught him in the act that the full extent of what was happening became clear.

One night, Lexi woke with a start to find Voldemort's hand wrapped around her breast, his thumb circling her nipple with deliberate slowness. She froze, her eyes wide with shock and arousal, her breath shallow and quick.

Voldemort wasn't like other foolish boys, letting themselves be led by their base desires. But Lexi stirred something unique in him and he despised that and yet yearned for it. He'd in fact played this very moment in his head many times. She'd wake up and look at him with those wide eyes, a mix of confusion, fear, but also arousal, and he knew exactly what to do next. He bore into her gaze with his own, a claim, a challenge. She wouldn’t resist him, he knew.

Lexi's eyes darted to Voldemort's hand, still cupping her breast, and she felt a surge of heat pool in her core. His touch was electrifying, sending sparks of pleasure racing through her veins. She wondered if she should be frightened, if she should pull away, but her body had other ideas. A small, trembling sound escaped her lips as he toyed with her nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers. Lexi clenched her thighs, a whimpering moan escaping from her throat. "T-Tom," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart

“Voldemort," he corrected, his grip tightening as he watched her reaction with an intense, hungry gaze. "Is there something you want, Lexi?" he asked, his voice a low, seductive purr. "Tell me." She blushed. She wanted this, had wanted it. She wasn't even certain what this was but it was him and a closeness and a feeling she could hardly describe.

"You. I want you," Lexi breathed, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could second-guess herself. This is what she had wanted for so long. She wa s sure of it. Voldemort's eyes gleamed with a dark and primal glint. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "Then you shall have what you wish," he whispered, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. "I'll give you everything you desire." His free hand slid up her thigh, pushing her nightdress out of the way as he explored her skin. Lexi gasped, her back arching off the bed as he found the heat of her core. Voldemort's fingers danced along her slit, teasing and probing, and Lexi couldn't help but spread her legs, inviting him in. "Please," she whimpered, her voice a desperate plea for more, for everything. "Tom,"

"voldemort," he corrected again with a firm slap to her face. "I won't ha e you referring to me by that filthy muggle name. Especially not now" As he spoke, he claimed every space adjacent to her body, pressing against her where she could feel the tight swell in his trousers, his face just above hers, his hands wrapped around her arms, bruisingly tight, pinning her to the bed.

The sharp sting of the slap sent a jolt of pain throughLexi's cheek, and she let out a small cry, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. But even as fear gripped her heart, a thrill of excitement raced through her veins. Voldemort's correction was a claim of power, a reminder of who held all the cards. Lexi's pulse quickened, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps as she felt the heat of his body pressing against hers.

“Yes, Lord Voldemort," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm sorry. I didn’t mean…” His grip on her arms tightened, the pressure bordering on painful as he pinned her to the bed. Lexi could feel the hard length of his arousal pressing against her thigh, and she squirmed, her hips bucking involuntarily as she sought more of that delicious friction.

Voldemort stared into those huge brown eyes again. how was it that she managed to draw out such madness in him? His Lexi. He wanted her. And it angered him to think that anyone could possess such a power over him. If he finally indulged himself in his dark fantasies with her....would it quell the ache within him or only make it worse?Voldemort growled, his face hovering just above hers. "No more beating around the bush. Since you insist on making me feel such things, it’s high time you were subject to the consequences." She nodded, unable to speak. She didn’t have the words to describe what she wanted but her body seemed to know and her heart had always been his.

This was it. He wasn't going to stop this time. No matter the intensity, he was going to take her. If it was too much for her, he'd just obliviate her so she didn't remember. But he had to follow this through, had to claim her. She touched him back, her gentle little fingers reaching up to stroke his face, and he leaned into it unconsciously, a part of him feeling a pathetic desire for her soft affections. He snorted and grabbed his wand, using a body lock spell to pin her arms to her side. she looked up at him, those big brown eyes growing impossibly wider as she struggled to understand his actions but didn't think to object. Panic flared in her eyes, but before she could voice her fears, Voldemort leaned in and captured her lips once more, muffling any protests with his kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth again, stroking and twirling against hers in a sensual dance that left Lexi breathless and disoriented. She could taste the darkness on his tongue, feel the power radiating from his very being as he explored her mouth with a possessive hunger.Lexi's fingers twitched, yearning to touch him back, to stroke the hard lines of his face and trace the contours of his lips. But even as the urge rose within her, she knew better than to resist. She was at his mercy, utterly at his whim, but somehow the realization only served to heighten the newfound pleasure coursing through her veins. As Voldemort deepened the kiss, Lexi felt her body surrendering to him, her very essence merging with his in a forbidden union of dark magic and twisted desire. She was his, body and soul, and the knowledge only fueled the madness consuming them both.

There were no more words spoken as he used his wand to rip through her clothes, leaving her body exposed before him. his desire grew densely as he observed her body. his fingers brushed over her dark mark almost reverently. His Lexi. His. "Mine," he hissed in parseltonge. bruising her hips with his tight grasp as he lifted her hips and pulled her to him.

As his fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, Lexi gasped, her nails digging into the old sagging mattress beneath them. She could feel the thick length of his arousal pressing insistently against her, and she knew that there would be no turning back from this point. She trembled, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he settled between her thighs. His hot breath brushed against her most intimate areas, and she felt the first flickers of pleasure beginning to build within.

"Please," she whimpered, her hips jerking up in offering. He released his swolen member from its prison of trousers and wasted no time in covering her little body and plunging into her. He met with the resistance of her tight virgin hole and groaned in pleasure, not bothering to be gentle or caring as he painfully tore into it.

"It hurts," Lexi whimpered, trying to squirm away from the intense burning sensation that filled her. But every movement only seemed to make the pain worse, a relentless ache that threatened to consume her whole. Voldemort paid her no mind, his hand clamping over her mouth to stifle her complaints. He was too consumed by the pleasure of having her, of finally claiming what he'd desired for so long. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, holding her in place as he began to move within her, his thick length stroking against her tender walls with a ruthless intensity.Lexi's eyes widened in as she felt herself being taken, her virginity being ripped from her by the Dark Lord. Tears prickled at the corner of her eyes, her body trembling with a mix of discomfort and desire. But even as she resisted, a part of her couldn't help but respond to the dark, primal pleasure that Voldemort's intrusion brought. She was being claimed, body and soul, and the knowledge only fueled the twisted desires coursing through her veins.

"My Lexi. So good," he whispered gruffly as he thrusted into her. had she ever imagined such vulgar things she didn't think she'd have imagined them like this. she wanted to touch him, express her affection and adoration in intimate ways, but he wasn't allowing that. This was about claiming her and appeasing his own appetite…and merlin was she appeasing! Her little body hugged him tightly like it belonged there.

He kissed her tenderly when he finished, brushing her hair out of her face, his eyes smoldering Into hers for a moment before he abruptly rose, and walked off to the washroom, leaving her alone to sort through the mess of thoughts and feelings as the body binding curse wore off.

Voldemort returned to his studies, and when she was able, Lexi rose and took care of herself, quietly joining him with her own book. They didn't talk about then or the next morning. Or the other times it sporadically happened through that summmer. She didn't tell Eileen about the encounters either. Voldemort hadn’t expressly forbade it, but it felt secret somehow, something that ought to be kept between the two of them. Still, she was left to wonder exactly what this new dimension to their relationship meant. But Voldmort never addressed it and she never could bring herself to ask.

Chapter Text

Lexi Monroe paced back and forth across the Slytherin girl's dormitory in front of her four poster, wearing a path into the carpet where she walked.

“Give it a rest, will you? I’m trying to sleep,” complained Juniper Greengrass.

“Oh piss off,” Lexi retorted irritably, not in the mood for a mediocre second year who thought she should mouth off to fourth years. Eileen, sitting on her own bed and watching Lexi frantically pace raised an eyebrow, surprised at the irritable retort but she was pretty sure knew what it was about. Tomorrow was a Hogsmeade visit, something that excited most eligible students, but she knew Lexi well enough to know what was going on. Tom Riddle. Although Lexi didn’t talk about their relationship much anymore, knowing that Eileen disapproved, Eileen was able to tell how things were going between them based on how Lexi acted the night before a Hogsmeade weekend.

Of late, all Lexi seemed able to talk about was her obsessive disdain for a certain aging, bloated socialite witch. Hephzibah Smith. Lexi could barely stomach the thought of her, her bloated figure stuffed into gaudy expensive robes that did little to flatter her sagging frame. The woman was ancient, fat, and greedy, hoarding both treasures and attention like some overgrown magpie. Worse yet, Hephzibah had the audacity to behave as though she had some sort of claim to Voldemort, fawning over him in a way that Lexi found downright vulgar. It was indecent and pathetic, the way she clung to him, practically drooling over his every word, as if someone like him would ever desire her.
But Voldemort wasn’t like other young men. He had minimal interest in physical beauty. His interests tended to go to where knowledge and power could be found, and though he called her pretty at times, and he told her she was one of the few he felt he could truly engage in intellectual discourse, perhaps in terms of wealth and power Hepzibah really could offer him more.
She’d been wanting to bring her up with him, get some clarification as to exactly what WAS going on between him and the older woman, but she was reluctant. He’d be annoyed. Call her childish and ridiculous. Or worse, perhaps he would confirm her worst fears.

“Come on, Kid. Let’s go to the common room and play some chess for a bit, huh?” Lexi stopped pacing and gave her friend an appreciative smile. Maybe it was best to try and distract herself and not think of things too much. If that was even possible…

Meanwhile, young Voldemort was finishing up balancing some ledgers at Borgin and Burkes before bed. It had been another tedious, boring day of dealing with the brainless populace, but some good has come of it at least. He had sweet talked Hebzibah Smith into letting him visit her at home, that he might get a better look at the treasures she claimed to horde. The suit of goblin armor that she wanted appraised wasn’t of much interest to him, but there were whispers of other treasures he was very much interested in, and if they proved to be true the time hed spent charming the insufferably dull woman would have been worth it. Otherwise, hed be very angry.

He sighed. It was a Hogsmeade weekend for the Hogwarts students so he would also be seeing Lexi tomorrow. He wanted the reprieve that her presence would provide, the soothing balm for his mounting frustrations after days of dealing with the mindless masses, so he didn’t want to cancel seeing her, but she likely would be unhappy about him going to see Hepzibah during “their weekend.” Her childish jealousy and insecurity was trying at times, but he knew how to handle her. And if it was really so troubling to her, it’d be convenient to him to do away with Hepzibah Smith entirely. He smirked with a serpentine grin. This weekend should truly prove to be quite entertaining.

Chapter Text

Voldemort gave a satisfied hum as he sat on the edge of the bed, fastening his cufflinks and straightening his tie. “Merlin’s beard, I needed that,” he stated in a dispassionate conversational tone. It really had been quite cathartic to take Lexi to bed again, giving him a chance to let out some of his daily frustrations at dealing with the populace. Now, it would be easier to move on to his next set of goals… except… he could feel those bloody needy eyes on him, without even looking at her. He sighed. "You know I hate it when you pout," he scolded but she made no attempt to change her demeanor.

"You're leaving," she stated. "On our weekend."

Voldemort scoffed in annoyance. "Don't be so childish. I have business to attend to. I made time to see you in spite of it, and now I have somewhere else to be." Lexi couldn't help the mix of frustration and bitterness that spewed forth. It had just been pent up for far too long.

“Oh, how generous of you,” she snapped, pushing herself upright. “Sparing me a sliver of your precious time before rushing off to...”

“Careful,” Voldemort warned, his tone light but laced with steel, but Lexi had had enough and ignored the warning.

“It's her, right?” she challenged. If he was going to push her aside for that hag, he at the least ought to have the decency to come out and say it. Voldemort let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes.

“If you must know, yes, it concerns Hepzibah Smith. Business, Lexi. Not whatever ridiculousness you're allowing to lead your foolish behavior.” Lexi's heart sank into her stomach and twisted hard. So it was true. He was going to see Hepzibah, during their time together, and he wasn't even bothering to hide it or lie about it. A part of her almost wished he would do at least that.

“You choose to waste time with her over me?”

“I choose to advance my interests,” he corrected sharply, finally turning to look at her with a steely sneer. “Unlike you, being coddled by daft old Dippet and those short-sighted potential limiting gobshite professors, I live in the real world now, and don’t have the luxury of indulging petty emotions.” Lexi’s jaw tightened.

“Petty emotions?”

“Yes, petty emotions,” he repeated, his patience fraying. “Your childish jealousy is getting quite tedious.”

She threw back the covers and stood, glaring at him. “So I’m just supposed to accept that you spend our weekend entertaining some disgusting old hag who fawns over you?” Voldemort exhaled through his nose, slow and measured, as if reining himself in. He stepped toward her, voice dropping into a smooth, cajoling tone, slipping his hands around her waist and pulling her close to him, close enough that the smell of his aftershave invaded every inch of her personal space and her heart started beating faster in spite of herself.

“Lexi. You know how little she means to me," he cooed into her hair. She softened a bit, even in her tantrum and he smiled. That was more like it. A little reassurance now, perhaps a promise of later affection, and she'd go along with it. She always did. It was annoying to have to put in the effort, but Lexi was useful, and in terms of companionship, he truly did prefer her to Hepzibah.

"Well, you say that ..." she huffed. So she wasn't going to just let it go this time. Voldemort grew irritated.

"I do say that. So come off it!” His eyes narrowed slightly and then his irritated glare morphed into a cruel smirk. “How about this then? I'll make you a promise. Since you dislike her so much, I'll do you a favor. She won't be a problem for very much longer." Lexi froze in place and her blood ran cold. He couldn’t mean that. Could he? Voldemort’s grin widened as he took in the immediate change in her demeanor but he continued to speak in a soothing, cajoling tone. “Sit, Lexi. Have a cuppa. Read something. I’ll be back before you know it.”

With that he left her, now sitting on the worn sofa, quiet and shaken to the core.

The moment the door shut behind him, Lexi felt the air in the flat shift, the silence pressing in like a held breath. The room was dim, the weak evening light filtering through the dingy window, but the chill settling in her bones had nothing to do with the draft. She sat rigid on the sofa, staring at the empty space he had occupied just moments ago, the ghost of his aftershave still clinging to her senses.

It was a joke. It had to be. He’d been toying with her, punishing her for her childish outburst, making her squirm for daring to challenge him. But the way he’d said it, so offhand, so utterly devoid of emotion… it needled at her. Voldemort did not joke—not in the way normal people did. His humor was sharp-edged, meant to wound, to teach lessons. And hadn’t she learned them all by now?

Her fingers twisted into the fabric of her skirt. She should have kept her mouth shut. She should have let it go, let him leave without a fight, let him have his business with Hepzibah Smith without making it into something personal. But it was personal. Wasn’t it? No. No, Voldemort was right. He was always right. Her jealousy was childish. She was being ridiculous. And yet…

Her stomach churned. If Hepzibah Smith wound up dead, if she made the papers like Myrtle Warren had ... lifeless, gone, nothing but a name on a page, then whose fault would that be? The answer should have been obvious. But it wasn’t. It never was.

You made this happen. The thought slithered into her mind, insidious and sharp in a voice that sounded all too much like his. It wasn’t Voldemort’s fault he was ambitious. He had a plan, he had goals, he always knew best. But she had provoked him. Gotten in the way, made a fuss, let her emotions rule her and forced his hand. If Hepzibah Smith ended up dead, it It would be because Lexi had foolishly put the idea in his head. Just like she had with Myrtle Warren. It would be her fault.

She pressed her hands against her temples, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to will away the gnawing sense of dread creeping up her spine. He didn’t mean it. He’s just making you sweat. He’ll come back, he’ll roll his eyes at you, maybe mock you for fretting, and everything will be fine. And if it wasn’t? If she opened the newspaper tomorrow and saw the obituary?

Then she would have to live with it. All over again.

It seemed an eternity passed in purgatory before Voldemort finally returned that night. The door creaked open.

Lexi sat up so fast she nearly knocked over the inkpot on the desk. Ah. She’d been waiting.

Voldemort took his time closing the door behind him, savoring the way she hovered between uncertainty and relief, the way she fought to compose herself under his gaze. The way her hands fisted in her lap, pressing deep, as if she could will away the foolish little emotions he could feel radiating off her.

Good. She should feel foolish. He stepped forward, watching her dark lashes flick over those big eyes as he took off his gloves, sliding them off one finger at a time. She didn’t speak. Not yet. No, she was waiting to see which version of him she’d be granted tonight. He rather liked that.

"You’re awake," he observed, voice light, expectant.

Lexi nodded, hesitated, then, "Yes." A nervous little thing, now. Well-behaved. It never took much to get his Lexi to do as she ought. Just a little nudge now and then. So near to bloody perfect...He smiled tucking an errant strand of silky black behind her ear.

“What’s the matter, Love? Feeling a bit guilty, over your outburst earlier, I suppose?” She bit her lip but she didn’t protest. She wouldn’t now. Much better. He continued to push in, sitting next to her, pulling her into his lap, lazily tracing her dark mark with his fingertips.

“I meant what I said. I really do prefer your company to her. However unfortunately, I’ll be having to listen to her yapping tomorrow when she brings that suit of Goblin armor for Borgin.” He felt it, the way she stiffened for a fraction of a second and then released, her body managing to relax in a way it hadn’t all night. He laughed then, that high, cold, disdainful laugh that made her feel so foolish and childish.

“You don’t seem angry now. You seem ...” he paused as if he was searching for the correct word. “Surprised?” Lexi shrugged, a light flush across her cheeks, and fumbled for an explanation. Merlin, but something about the way she bit her lip and squirmed when pressed made him want to take her to bed again. So he did. And this time, afterwards, he even stayed in bed with her.

“Next Hogsmeade weekend will be better, Lexi. Won’t it? We won’t argue.” It was a statement rather than a question to which she simply nodded. “And we won’t have to worry about Hepzibah Smith. This whole Goblin armor business will be concluded by then.” She nodded in agreement again, silently, and Voldemort inhaled the sweet scent of victory.

Chapter Text

The obituary of Hepziba Smith appeared in the Daily Prophet a few weeks later, just as the stress of that night had started to fade from Lexi's mind and body. She wanted to say she was surprised, but she wasn't. At least not that it had happened What did surprise her is how little the revelation affected her. She felt...nothing. She wasn't happy about it, wasn't relieved, but she also didn't feel the gnawing anxiety she had felt that night waiting in the empty flat for Voldemort to return or the suffocating guilt she had felt when she heard about Myrtle Warren. She just felt ... Numb. Feeling anything at all right now just seemed like it would take an insurmountable effort that she simply didn't possess at the moment and so she just didn't...

For the most part people didn't seem to notice. Voldemort didn't. He was far too busy with some scheme or another of which he had no real interest in sharing with her. It was probably better that way. What she didn't know couldn't really hurt her. Until it could. But for now it was easier to just not think, not wonder. Go where she was bid. Do as she was asked, smile and nod when it was expected, give the right answers and not have to feel anything at all.

It worked most of the time..But Transfiguration wasn't so easy today. Professor Dumbledore has called on her to recite which objects would be easiest to most difficult to turn into a hat. It was an easy enough question and she answered correctly, she was sure of it, and yet Dumbledore still seemed dissatisfied. He looked at her with piercing disapproving eyes.

"Miss Monroe, stay with me a tic after class, won't you?"

"Yes, Professor," she responded with a polite false smile, but it didn't seem to placate. She exhaled slowly feeling very tired as she waited for the end of class.

Eileen gave her a searching gaze as she rose from her seat when they were dismissed to lunch but Lexi merely shrug, giving her a practices smile. "Save me a seat?" she asked, sending her friend on her way before turning her attention towards the professor who grinned encouragingly and motioned for her to approach his desk which she did with caution.

Professor Dumbledore pulled a small paper sack out of his desk drawer and pushed it towards her.

"Muggles have the most interesting sweets, Miss Monroe. I don't know if you ever had these at the muggle children's home, but these are called Pink Shrimps, and would you believe they are quite sweet and taste nothing at all like shrimp? Take one. Or a few. I'm quite sure you'll like them."

Lexi smiled but shook her head. She was quite certain Voldemort would not like for her to accept sweets from Albus Dumbledore. Even speaking privately to him like this risked punishment from Voldemort if he found out when he was in a particularly foul mood, but she couldn't very well openly disrespect a professor, could she?

"No thank you, Professor. I'll have to save my appetite for lunch. The Baron tends to scold me if he suspects I'm not eating properly."

"Well, suit yourself," he replied, popping a few of the chewy foam like candies into his mouth, "but take a seat. I've been meaning to speak with you of late."

"What for, Professor?" she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral but beginning to feel the edges of unease creeping into her numbness, but she sat, obediently as she had been bid. Dumbledore leaned forward, his eyes soft but probing.

"You've not seemed yourself lately, Miss Monroe. I had just been wondering if you're alright."

She forced a neutral expression, Occlumency straining. "I'm fine, Professor." Her voice was steady, but hollow, her numbness a shield she clung to.

He paused, as if weighing her words, then spoke gently. "You haven't heard any odd or unfortunate news of late, have you?" Lexi's mind flashed to Hephzibah's obituary, but her blank stare held, the numbness a wall he couldn't breach. His brow furrowed, suspicion lingering.

"And how has Mr. Riddle been of late. I've heard he's been quite successful in his position at Borgin and Burkes." She faltered there, not liking the way he too easily connected the two questions.

"He's doing well, I suppose. I've not spoken with him in a some days," she responded, trying to be vague, but her discomfort rising. Dumbledore sighed.

"I once followed a path that seemed bright," Dumbledore continued, his voice softer now, "only to find its shadow lingered. The toll on a young heart can scar deeply, long after the choice is made." Lexi's breath caught—she knew he meant Grindelwald, the infamous name unspoken but heavy. His regret mirrored her entanglement with Voldemort, the "favor" that night in the flat burning in her memory.

"I understand the pull of a dangerous man's affection," he added, eyes kind but warning. "It can feel like love, but the cost... it marks you, Miss Monroe. Be wary of where it leads." He leaned back, cautious not to press too hard. "Some bonds leave marks beyond the skin, and I'd not see you harmed."

Her mark pulsed under her sleeve. She panicked, Occlumency flickering, dread spiking. How much did he know? And why was her mark reacting? Did Voldemort know she was with Dumbledore now?

No. That was silly. She took a breath and composed herself. She nodded, mask intact but fractured. "Yes, Professor," she murmured, voice tight, refusing to give up information. "I'll... think on it."

"Think on it," Dumbledore echoed, offering a Pink Shrimp she declined with a shake of her head, mark itching. She stood, unsettled, his words a splinter in her numbness, Grindelwald's shadow haunting her own.

Eileen met her right outside, startling her. She hadn't gone to lunch. She had waited for her. She smiled, weak but genuine, grateful for her closest girlfriend's presence. Eileen's dark eyes peered into hers, searching. "You're not okay, Lexi," she said softly, tugging her arm. "C'mon. Let's take a walk." Lexi followed, dazed, as they climbed the spiraling stairs to the Astronomy Tower, the castle's quiet halls giving way to sky's expanse. The cold air bit at her cheeks, a gray misty sky above as they leaned on the railing.

Lexi's voice was distant. "Dumbledore didn't just know Grindewald, I think. He ... loved him." She swallowed hard and continued. "Like..... me with Voldemort. He wanted to warn me. Obviously it didn't end well..." Her words trembled, Dumbledore's scars echoing her own ... Voldemort's "favors," the flat, the obituary. She felt fractured, the numbness cracking.

Eileen's fingers fidgeted with her scarf, her voice cracking. "I can't watch this anymore, Lexi." Her eyes glistened, desperate. "I love you. Have since first year. But you're too wrapped up in bloody Riddle to notice."

"You what?" Lexi's eyes widened, her throat tightened, trying to comprehend her friend's words.

"He treats you like dirt, Lex," she said, growing more impassioned, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "You deserve better. He'll destroy you if you stay." The confession spilled, raw and intense, her fear for Lexi a plea.

Before Lexi could utter a word, Eileen drew near, her presence intoxicating as she pulled Lexi into an embrace, their lips colliding in a surge of heat and tremor. Lexi surrendered for a fleeting moment, enveloped by Eileen's inviting warmth, the subtle, enticing scent that danced around her, the silken brush of Eileen's long hair grazing her cheeks, and the tender caress of her soft skin igniting a rush of deeper emotions. A spark of arousal flickered within, her heart racing with wild abandon as her fingers instinctively curled, clutching the folds of her best friend's cloak. Then she froze, her mark suddenly flaring. "Mine" hissed in her mind. She stumbled back, panic surging. Was he already aware, or was it just her own mind playing tricks on her? Would he see this as disloyalty? Her heart raced, not just the kiss, but Eileen's intent: to take her from him, to protect her from him. Eileen was a threat now, something Voldemort would not tolerate. Would he kill her, like Myrtle, like Hephzibah?

She gasped, dread consuming her. Why? Why'd Eileen have to do this?

"Lex. I uh .... Sorry, I should have ...." Lexi, shook her head, she couldn't ... wouldn't hear anything else from Eileen right now.

"M-Maybe we should...j-just go to lunch..." she suggested, her voice a tiny squeak. Eileen nodded.

"Yeah. Okay."

As the two girls approached the Great Hall, The Slytherin table buzzed with chatter, but Lexi's focus narrowed to the weight in her chest. She barely registered sitting beside Eileen when a shadow fell over them—Haerton landed on her plate, his amber eyes glinted as he dropped a parchment, the handwriting unmistakably his—sharp, tight, elegant, perfect. Lexi's fingers trembled as she unfolded it, the words, a single sentence searing her vision: "I'll see you at the flat for Christmas break." No warmth, no question, just a command. Her mark pulsed again, a silent accusation, and her breath caught. He knew. Or suspected. The flat, his domain, awaited, not long ago a fantasy, but now, feeling more like impending doom.

Chapter Text

On the first day of Christmas holiday, Lexi had expected to make the trek back to the flat over Borgin and Burkes by herself, so she walked, a reluctant shadow, down the path to Hogsmeade where she’d use a public floo connection to return to Voldemort and face whatever mood he was in and whatever he may or may not know about what had happened to her at Hogwarts. Lost in thought, she nearly tripped when a familiar voice called her name.

“Lexi. Come here”

Young Voldemort frowned as he watched her reaction. She didn’t light up with that annoying adoration in the way she typically did when she saw him, nor did she immediately follow his command, and he didn’t like that…but it wasn’t important. He had matters of far greater consequence on his mind just now, than the behavior of a silly little schoolgirl.

“What are you doing here?” she managed to utter. Immediately he felt a cold seething poisonous anger as for a brief moment he thought about the true answer to her question. Too young for a position at Hogwarts, Dippet had said. He needed more experience. As if he wasn’t better than wizards thrice his age. Experience! Bullocks. He snorted. He had more experience than Dippet knew, though he had a suspicion this stupid opinion had originated elsewhere.

Quickly, he hid his anger and schooled his features into his most charming smile.

“Well, I’ve come to collect you, haven’t I?” he replied in a silky voice as smooth as a serpent’s back, and it pleased him to see her large brown eyes widen appreciatively at his suggestion.

Lexi couldn’t help it. A part of her felt it was just a trick, and wasn’t sure whether believing him or being skeptical was the more dangerous path to take, and yet some part of her, trained deep into her from years at his side, still felt flattered and pleased by his suggestion that he’d come to accompany her, whether it was entirely true or not.

“Thank you,” she whispered, accepting his offered hand, and they set off down the path together in an almost companionable silence.

The moment he apparated them into their flat, Lexi could sense his rising anger bubbling over as he dropped all pretenses.

He knows, she thought fearfully, stiffening as she watched him kick Linton’s cage irritably, sending the tawny owl fleeing into the rafters.

“He’s so bloody stupid!” Voldemort growled at nobody in particular.

“He?” Lexi blinked, unable to follow his chain of thought without context, but grateful that his fury didn’t seem aimed at her or Eileen.

“Dippet! The old fool ought to retire. He’s senile! Only I’m sure we know who becomes headmaster when he’s gone. And he’s worse.”

“Who is?”

“Pay attention, Lexi! Dumbledore! I know it was him! Dumbledore convinced him not to give me the teaching job. He’s always trying to undermine me. Has been since day one. Well, he’ll pay for that, Lexi. They both will!”

Lexi felt a deep pit inside her stomach, but she didn’t dare respond to his ranting any farther. She sat on the sagging sofa, letting him mutter and rave, a sounding board and a decoration for the place in which Voldemort would determine his next step towards ultimate power.

Days bled together, and , he remained much the same, constantly reading, scribbling notes she didn’t dare to read, pacing, murmuring to himself about ancient dark magic and occasionally exploding into angry rants about those who underestimated him and the fate of those who got in his way.

She tried to keep out of his way. Kept the flat clean. Cooked. Answered when spoken to. Pretended not to notice when he absently reached for her hand only to drop it seconds later, or when his fingers brushed against her dark mark like he was checking to make sure she was still there, like a prized possession he didn’t want stolen, but no longer enjoyed. He barely touched her otherwise.

And if she noticed the absence, if her skin ached with the absence, she said nothing.

By Christmas morning, she had almost convinced herself it was fine. That his moods would pass. That she would get through the holiday the way she always did, quietly, obediently, waiting to be wanted again. She even made tea. She found some green and silver ribbon from her school trunk and braided it through her long dark hair hair. Two braids, framing her face in the way he’d said he liked. Then she withdrew his Christmas gift, a book of course. She almost always gave him a book. In her first year she had given him a lovely leather bound journal that she had lifted from a muggle shop not far from the orphanage. She’d been worried he wouldn’t like it since it wasn’t anything particularly magical, but he’d humored her at least. He’d smiled at her and said it was just the sort of thing he needed. She assumed he’d been lying since she’d never seen it since, but she’d appreciated the gesture.

This year, she’d done better. It was a book again, but a magical one this time, a rare travel atlas detailing places where the presence of ancient primordial magic was strong. Just the sort of thing Voldemort would peruse in his leisure.

She took a breath and then forced herself to speak up.

“I’ve something for you. For Christmas, I mean.”

He paused in his pacing and muttering and looked at her, as if just noticing her presence for the first time.

“I’ve told you before you needn’t bother with such foolish, trivial things,” he admonished, but she thought she heard a hint of affection in his voice. “Well, let’s see it hen.” He waited expectantly as placed the parcel in front of him.

He opened it and examined the contents critically, a handsome eyebrow raised.

“Guess you’re more clever than I give you credit for. When did you figure it out?” he asked in a soft casual tone.

“You what?”

He traced the pages of the book with one hand, his fingers on the other hand marking the same path across her dark mark.

“Albania. We’ll leave before New Years so you ought to go on and pack us. Could be few years before we return “

Albania? What was in Albania? But she couldn’t go on a trip now. The new term was about to start. She certainly couldn’t be absent a few years. She had O.W.Ls to think of.

“Years? I couldn’t. What about school?” Voldemort scoffed at this.

He looked up from the atlas, eyebrow raised at her tone. “Yes. There are things there I need to investigate. Ancient magic that predates anything those fools at Hogwarts could teach you.”

“But… my O.W.L.s. I’m meant to sit my O.W.L.s next year.” The words tumbled out before she could stop them, desperate and childish.

Voldemort’s expression shifted, the casual indifference replaced by something sharper. “Your what?”

“My examinations. I need to…”

“You need?” His voice had gone very quiet, the way it did before something terrible happened. “What could you possibly need from that pathetic excuse for an education that I couldn’t provide you myself?”

Lexi’s hands trembled as she tried to find the right words, the ones that wouldn’t make him angry. “It’s not that. It’s just… everyone expects—”

“Everyone?” He stood abruptly, the atlas sliding to the floor. “Who is everyone, Lexi? Those simpering children who’ve never accomplished anything of note? Those mediocre professors who teach watered-down magic to students too stupid to understand real power?”

“No, I just meant..”

“You meant that you’d rather waste your time sitting in those dreary classrooms, learning parlor tricks, instead of accompanying me on a journey that could unlock secrets that have been hidden for centuries.” His voice was rising now, each word precisely enunciated in the way that meant his control was slipping. “After everything I’ve taught you. After everything I’ve given you.”

Lexi felt tears threatening, but she couldn’t back down. Not on this. The thought of disappearing into some remote corner of Albania for years, cut off from everyone and everything, made something inside her recoil in terror.

“I don’t want to go,” she said quietly.

The silence that followed was suffocating. Voldemort stared at her as if she’d struck him, his pale face going even whiter.

“You don’t want to go,” he repeated slowly as if he was suddenly having difficulty comprehending speech.

“Voldemort, please. I need to finish school. I need—”

“You need nothing!” he snapped. “You are nothing without me! I found you stealing scraps like a bloody beggar and I made you into something worthwhile. I shared my knowledge with you, my plans, my…” He cut himself off abruptly, jaw clenched.

“I know, and I’m grateful—”

“Grateful.” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “How grateful can you be if you’re willing to throw away the opportunity of a lifetime for some meaningless examinations?”

Lexi wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “They’re not meaningless to me.”

Something flickered across his face then, hurt, perhaps, or betrayal, but it was gone so quickly she might have imagined it.

“I see.” His voice had gone flat now, emotionless. “Well then. I suppose I misjudged your… maturity.”

He moved toward the door, pausing only to grab something from the mantelpiece, a small wrapped package she hadn’t noticed before. He tossed it onto the sofa beside her with casual disdain.

“Happy fucking Christmas,” he said coldly, and then he was gone, the door slamming behind him with enough force to rattle the windows.