Out of Time

Tom

Tom Riddle was a smart boy, He had always learned things quickly. He was hungry for knowledge, devoured it like most children do sweets. But he was never like most children. He was an orphan and even there he was considered an outcast. The other children found him odd.

It was no surprise to Tom when a man arrived The August before he turned 12. He thought the man a doctor at first. Mrs. Cole, The matron at the orphanage, was overjoyed to introduce Tom and the man.

"Tom, you have a visitor, be on your best behavior." The mean woman hissed at him before turning a smile to the man and leaving.

"How do you do Tom?" said the man walking forward and holding out his hand.

Tom looked at the hand then took it, shaking slightly.

The man continued, "I am professor Dumbledore."

"Professor?" repeated Tom, he looked at the man wary. "Is that like 'Doctor'? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?" He pointed towards the door in which Mrs. Cole had just left.

"No, no." said Dumbledore, smiling.

"I don't believe you." Said Tom, "She wants me looked at, doesn't she? Tell me the truth." Tom's body shook with the force in which he spoke. Such a command from an eleven year old boy.

The man, Dumbledore, just smiled pleasantly at him. Tom calmed himself, "Who are you?" He asked again.

"I am professor Dumbledore, I teach at a school called Hogwarts. I would like to offer you a place at this school." He looked at the boy, seeing disbelief on his face.

The boy finally spoke, "I am not mad."

Dumbledore smiles, "I know you are not mad, you are like me, you are a wizard. Hogwarts is a school for young witches and wizards. We teach you to control and grow your magical abilities."

This changed the look on Toms face. "Magic?" he said.

"Yes."

"It's...magic, what I can do?" he asked.

"What can you do?" Dumbledore asked.

"I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want without training them. I can make bad things happen to people when they annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to."

The man stayed and talked with Tom for a bit, explaining how he would buy his supplies and where to go to purchase them. As the man got up to leave, Tom spoke again.

"I can speak to snakes, I found out when we've been to the country on trips. They find me, they whisper to me. Is that normal for a wizard?" Tom asked.

"It's unusual," Dumbledore said after a moment's hesitation. "But not unheard of."

They shook hands, "Goodbye Tom, I will see you at Hogwarts."

Long after the man left, Tom sat on his bed, thoughts flowing through his mind. He had always known he was special. He had always known he was better. Now he had proof, even if he couldn't show it to the scum that shared the orphanage with him.

Tom was ecstatic as the school year started, he had no issues picking up his things and even getting to King's Cross Station. He was used to doing things by himself. He didn't feel the need to be coddled. He was almost 12.

The train ride was boring, he was surrounded by idiots. He had already received his books and read through them, twice. He sat in his compartment and practiced his spells. They were too easy. When the train pulled up to the school he and the other first years were pushed onto small boats and floated across a lake.

They arrived at the castle and Tom had to admit it was breathtaking. He felt like he belonged here. This was home. They were ushered inside and told they were to be sorted. Tom was unafraid. They made their way into the great hall and, one by one, a hat was placed on their heads.

Tom was placed in Slytherin, when he saw it was the house of snakes he was secretly pleased. They were fed, then carted off to their new rooms. Most grumbled about having to share a dorm, but Tom was no stranger to roommates. Though these weren't as bad as the buffoons at the orphanage.

In Tom's first year at Hogwart's he was top of his class. He had even borrowed books from the second years and began his next year's lessons early. He was even helping a few second year students with essays and their wand work. He had to begin charging for his lessons, and had made quite a bit of money.

As he began to prepare for his second year, he used the extra money to purchase third year books as well. He continued this pattern through to his 5th year. He was proud to be once again top of his class and now a prefect. He enjoyed the power.

The year was almost up, he was helping Professor Slughorn brew a few potions for the infirmary and his own personal stores. The usual, Pepper ups and a few harder pain potions. Easy enough for him.

Tom watched the cauldrons and added the ingredients as necessary. The one that interested him the most was what the professor was brewing himself. The draught of living death. They were to brew it next year, and Slughorn would not let Tom assist in the brewing. He felt it was close to cheating.

So Tom watched, made his own notes, and would pour over them later. He had just finished putting the potions he brewed into their vials when he heard the professor yell for him to watch out. Tom turned and before he could react was doused head to toe in the draught that the professor had just finished.

The last thing Tom thought was, this wouldn't end well.