Between the lines

Two worlds

"There is no good or evil, there is only power... and those too weak to seek it." (Tom Marvolo Riddle)

He'd never fitted in, but as he grew up he understood that he was too special to ever be equaled. Deep down, though, he hoped to find others like him. Even among those like him, he was way above them. Nature had been very generous with him as if it had tried to compensate for the things he lacked while just a baby. As there was no mother lullaby to chased away his fears at night, he'd learned to face them. Pretty soon he found out there was no use crying and he stopped. Later he'd discovered he'd never got things by begging and so he took them. He learned to depend only on himself.

As time passed by he started to enjoy his awkwardness. He started to do things others wouldn't be able to only to prove himself he was special. And he was special indeed.

At Hogwarts, he was the golden boy. Gifted with intelligence and ambition and above all with an appearance that would make any girl fall instantly deeply in love with him, Tom Marvolo Riddle soon became a model for most of his colleagues. He gathered around him different types of people. Some of them sought him for ambition. He hoped that his company would help them achieve glory and power. Others saw him as their protector. Too weak to act on themselves, rejected by society or simply hoping for easy victories they tried to hide behind his popularity. Yet none of them made him feel like he really blended in. There was no one in the entire world that would be able to understand him. So he carried on being the handsome dark-haired boy, the sharp-minded school prefect and the cunning leader of that estrogen group of people that later were to worship him like a god.

However, he wanted more. It seemed too pitiful for him to have his time of glory limited to a lifetime, be it a wizard life. He wanted to have time. A lot of time. He wasn't ordinary and because of it, he wanted to avoid the only thing that may relate him to any other human. He'd managed to learn and experience things others' minds would never guess. In a few years, he'd understood more than others could in a lifetime. Yet he never managed to unveil the secrets of death and it made him feel vulnerable. And he hated when he felt vulnerable. As he couldn't understand death he soon learned to fear it. Who doesn't fear it, though? Yet he wasn't going to be like others and wait for the inevitable. No, he spent nights looking for a way to evade it. He didn't care about the price.

He was so young when he first tasted the pleasure of power - the power over someone else's life. It was only a filthy mudblood and a scary-cat. As he watched her body touch the ground he felt no more pity one would feel while watching a cat playing with a mouse. Contrary, it made him feel invincible. He had the blood of Salazar Slytherin in his veins. He had a monster under his control and most important, from that day on he couldn't be killed.

Little did he understand that the one he defined as a filthy mudblood was more like him than any of his pure-blooded companions. She was an outsider. Clever, but not confident enough to speak her mind. Maybe powerful if she had ever dared to really try to reach her potential. Captive to a body that according to society's rules was ugly, but which was beautiful in its own way. A body full of youth and energy, all of it wasted on self-pity and doubts. A mind full of dreams clouded by the critics and accusations of the so-called smart ones, of shallow beauties that in less than half a century would be reduced to the same cruel destiny as any other human being - aging.

However, Tom Marvolo Riddle didn't bother with these thoughts. In his mind power was everything and whoever couldn't master it was doomed. He didn't have a second thought upon accusing another orphan like him of the crimes he'd committed. In fact, the success of his plan made gave him the satisfaction of an accomplished strategist.

It was almost dark, but Tom didn't feel like going back to his room. He wasn't happy about leaving the Basilisk behind, locked in the chamber of secrets who-knows for how long. He wished he hadn't had to hide anymore. Yet he was clever enough to know that being reckless wouldn't serve his purposes. No, he wouldn't risk being sent back to that orphanage even if that meant he had to part with the only creature that could actually understand him. He laughed at the irony that a snake, a creature that most people would define as a monster, was closer to him than a man had ever been.