Mine || Tom Riddle

Chapter One

Tom Riddle was not the type of person who wanted. That was a step he never liked taking. When he saw something that piqued his interest he took it, he made it his. Even as a child, if he saw something he liked, he would steal it, even if it was to just make sure no one else could have it.

The longest he had gone in a wanting stage- no, he wouldn't call it that- in a planning stage was in the case of Ivetta Alexandrov. But he always got his way, even in the hardest cases.

September 1, 1941 (Tom)

He watched as you walked onto the platform. Head held with such confidence, yet everyone seemed to think you blended in with the people milling around you. Not to him.

In a world where he saw people as black and white, you had been a burst of color, radiant and shining. But even though you stood out against the dull, your colors were dark.

He thought back to the first time he had been on this platform. Relieved to be where he thought he might belong, unwilling to admit he was terrified. But even in a world where magic was ordinary, he was still extraordinary, like he saw you were.

You had seen it to, that day on the train, you had called them kindred spirits. And then they were sorted into the same house, but you did not speak to him. You had said they were alike and then left him alone. You were peculiar, a mystery he needed to solve. One he intended to.

He moved a few feet to the left as he watched you approach, making sure you would have to brush against him to get on the train. Your hair was so dark red it was black, but when the sun shown on it, all he could see was sheets of blood cascading down your back. He wondered if your real blood looked the same as your hair.

Your shoulders touched just as he had planned, and for once he was grateful for the bustle of people. After the contact he had longed for, he followed behind you onto the train.

He would not try and sit with you, no, that was not how this would work. By the end of the year you would not be able to keep yourself away from him. For now all he needed to do was observe.

Luckily, the fourth year group of Slytherin boys had a compartment next to their female counterparts. He could see you through the glass separation, but you would never know he was watching.

He took a seat next to the Black cousins (Cygnus and Orion), across from William Avery and Abraxas Malfoy. They went silent as he entered. Tom took pride in the fact that he intimidated them. These pure blooded, well-bred, snobs from powerful families were afraid of him, a mere orphan who didn't know his lineage.

He summoned a book from his trunk, and the boys carried on with their conversation as he read, and the train pulled away from the station.

"Druella and I have been betrothed." This subject piqued his interest, and he looked up at Cygnus, taking note of the conversation.

"As have Walburga and I." Orion had to chime in, always needing to compare himself to his family. No one mentioned how Walburga, Cygnus' sister, was related to her soon to be groomed.

"Welcome to the club lads, Avery and I have been promised since birth. I guess your parents struggled to marry off such dim witted babies." Abraxas cut in a snide remark Tom had never understood the workings of pure bloods. One day it would be impossible to keep magic in the old families, and though it was of upmost importance, arranged marriages were too old-fashioned.

Cygnus brushed off the insult. "I was hoping my parents could get me Alexandrov. But apparently her uncle doesn't want a suitor." He felt his blood boil as your name crossed the other boy's lips.