Chapter Text
It was a hot summer, unbearably hot, so much that it was actually difficult to think, let alone complete his homework with the usual brilliance Tom and his professors expected from him.
The thin walls of the orphanage did nothing to mitigate the temperature.
It was much worse with the cold, that Tom knew, he couldn't forget the freezing winters spent in that same room when he was still a child. When he didn't know if he could make it till the next spring, terrified by the sight of the other children succumbing to various illnesses or hypothermia.
At the time he could only thank God for the fact that he never got sick, not even with a cold, now he knew better.
He had learned upon his arrival to Hogwarts that it was his magic protecting him, just as it was doing at this moment. Currently, he was the only one who hadn't gotten heat stroke yet. He couldn't wait for the summer to be over so that he would be free of this dump. He was going to be free of these walls and he had plans to never return.
What once had been his favorite season, the less dangerous one, quickly became the worst part of the year, the one he had to spend away from Hogwarts.
It became even worse once the war started. The food, already scarce, was becoming harder to get every day; it was only thanks to the fear he instilled in the other children at the facility that he always managed to get some. After all everyone there agreed that it was better to go a day without food than angering Tom Riddle.
The bombs were only the cherry on top, constantly keeping everyone alert, ruining sleep with paranoia and nightmares.
It had really got to him; the soul crashing fear that it would be over in the blink of an eye, before he could even be able to accomplish anything, to be remembered.
Tom had been scared, terrorized, to the point that he could almost hear the sirens just by thinking of them.
It had gotten better the previous couple of years. Ever since he secured his immortality he felt less scared, more powerful than ever.
But even that couldn't take away the hopelessness he felt not being able to use magic in the city, let alone in an orphanage, surrounded by muggles.
It didn't even matter that he was already 17, in fact it made it worse since he couldn't even blame his wandless magic on accidental outbursts anymore.
He just couldn't wait to get out of that place, and maybe murder everyone inside it, that would have been nice too.
Tom kept staring at the empty parchment in front of him, waiting for the fog that the heat caused in his brain to dissipate before daring to write anything. He couldn't risk turning in a mediocre paper, his pride wouldn't let it slight, just like his nerves couldn't stand a less than proud look from his professors.
He was pretty sure that it would make him snap right then and there, which definitely wouldn't do if he wanted to keep his perfect record intact.
His musings were suddenly interrupted by the sudden appearance of an owl scratching at his window; the fact alone that he didn't notice it coming was already telling of his mental state.
Tom didn't recognise it as one of his “friend's” owls, it looked like the unassuming ones provided by the school and by the various post offices. But Abraxas and Orion were both out of the country, so maybe it was the only one they could use.
He became sure that it wasn't one of theirs when it immediately flew away after delivering the package, without waiting for a reply.
Now he was getting nervous, who could write to him like that? Only his friends knew of his address so they could write during the summer… Them and the Hogwarts staff.
Wearing his usual calm façade like a shield from the growing panic, he opened the box just to feel his jaw drop from the surprise.
Because he immediately recognised what was inside of it, having seen many of his classmates wearing something similar.
But it wasn't possible, it couldn't be.
He carefully pulled out the thin silver bracelet and stared at it in disbelief for a solid minute, before he managed to recompose himself.
He began studying it, and only then realized it looked like a snake.
Finely engraved scales catched the light at every angle, making it look like it was moving. The little green stones where his eyes should have been were almost glowing; he brought it closer to his eyes and realized that they were, in fact, real emeralds.
It was incredibly fancy, but not in a tacky way, and it definitely spoke of old money.
But what really baffled him was its meaning.
It was the customary gift that signaled the will to start a courtship, and what made it even more unbelievable were the two gems. Because some people in his house wore similar bracelets, but those were for courtship decided by the family, that didn't take into account what fate had decided for them, they only had one gem; but this had two.
And those were reserved for soulmates.
Still in a state of shock his brain pushed forward the thought that his soulmate must have been older than him for already knowing it, since the mark showed at the 18th birthday.
And most definitely rich if the gift was a proof of their status, which usually was.
He finally managed to calm down completely and noticed that there was something else in the box, he picked it up as if in a trance and started reading the piece of paper, eyes widening with every word they passed.
It was a confirmation of payment. For a room at the Leaky Cauldron. For the whole summer.
Whoever his suitor was, knew way more than they should have if they thought such a gift would be well received.
Tom’s wonder at the gift was immediately overtaken by suspicion and a tinge of humiliation.
They knew he couldn't afford it and were basically offering him charity, which left a bitter tinge in his mouth.
He thought about refusing, but a single glance around his squalid room and the remainder of the heat quickly made him change his mind.
It was only the start of the holiday and he already felt on the verge of killing everyone his eyes fell on, he couldn't make it past the summer that way.
After all it was just a proposal, that wouldn't be considered accepted until he wore the bracelet, and the gifts would be his even if he refused or broke the courtship.
Tom decided that, if his soulmate wanted to spend that much on him, he might as well let them and decide at a later date what to do with the whole thing.
When, the next day, he questioned the wiseness of his decision, he would blame his impulsiveness on the heat.
—
Without wasting a second he packed everything he owned, careful to store the bracelet in the most secure part of his trunk, with his diary, and called the Knight Bus.
After paying with the little funds he had accumulated thanks to the kind gifts of his doormates he entered and made his way to the counter.
The barkeeper immediately spotted him in the almost empty stabiliment.
-hey there, isn't it a bit early to wander at the bar - he said jokingly, only managing to piss Tom off - or do you need to go to diagon? -
Keeping his annoyance carefully hidden, Tom plastered a sheepish smile on his face.
-actually I'm here for a room, there should be one already booked -
-oh sure, can you give me your name? So I can check - the guy, Sam he remembered, said while taking a comically huge book from under the counter.
-Tom Riddle -
-ha yes, until the 1st of september right? - Tom just nodded politely.
-perfect then, I'll show you immediately to your room - he moved from behind the counter and showed him to the upper floor.
-Do you, perchance, know who made the reservation? - he asked once they reached the door, cringing at how embarrassing the question was, but deciding to endure it in the hope that it would reveal his suitor identity.
Sam gave him a weird look but didn't comment on it.
-unfortunately no, the prenotation and the money came by owl, not even a family owl, at least not a recognisable one - he explained and Tom, expecting the answer but still a bit disappointed thanked him and entered his room.
He felt the floor being pulled from him for the third time that day once he realized that the letter forgot to mention that the mysterious person hadn't booked him a normal room, but a suit.
He looked around, feeling slightly overwhelmed but also smug that his soulmate knew his worth.
After all, he came from nothing and managed to get all of Hogwarts under his thumb in just a few years, having even the teachers hanging from his lips by third year.
He spent the rest of the summer in his room, enjoying the cooling charms, browsing the bookcase that had apparently already been filled for him, definitely pleased by the variety of books. Some of them even teetering the line of legality.
Relishing in the possibility of finally using magic and wandering the streets of Diagon Alley.
He hadn't received any more gifts or letters from his mysterious person yet, but he figured it was normal, most courtship lasted years and, while being 17 meant that it would have been more rushed, was he to accept, it was still supposed to take some time.
So he waited patiently, thinking that probably the next would come at Hogwarts.
Tom figured that, since his soulmate was at least already 18, they wouldn't be there his last year, which gave him more time to figure the whole ordeal out, and hopefully discover the other’s identity before actually meeting them.
—
For the first time since he was 11, the summer finished too fast, and soon Tom found himself on the Hogwarts Express, patrolling the hallways of the train with the other prefects.
That time he made sure to be alone and not having to suffer the delightful company of his fellow schoolmates.
Being head boy definitely had his perks, and he would make sure to always have his patrolling alone when he and Smith, the head girl, were to come up with the list of turns for the rounds.
Wearing the usual polite and helpful smile he always had in public, he did the usual. Gave directions to some lost 1st years and reprimed a bunch of unruly gryffindors who were causing havoc (seriously why was it always the Prewitt twins?).
He didn't even ponder the thought of cursing them, they were just minor annoyances, it wasn't worth it.
Just as he was about to change corridor he spotted someone wandering aimlessly, while the boy definitely wasn't a first year he had a blank uniform, so it was another transfer student.
They didn't use to get a lot of those a few years back but, since the war with Grindelwald started affecting Europe, many people in the continent moved to England. Everyone clinging to the hope that Dumbledore was enough of a deterrent to keep the dark lord out of the country and the school.
Tom didn't really know what to think about it, it would have been easier to take control of Britain without having to worry about another dark lord, but on the other hand such an accomplishment would even further the deputy headmaster power and control over the country.
The hopelessness left by the war, that would make the ministry weaker than ever and facilitate his eventual rise to power would have been rendered useless by the hope aimed towards the wizard.
After all resigned humans were much easier to conquer, while hope instigated rebellions.
Storing his pondering in a corner of his brain, to be analyzed at a later day, he approached the boy.
He was facing away from him but he could clearly see the black mop of hair on his head that looked like it had never seen a brush in its life, and the slightly muscular physique.
Coming near he also noticed that they weren't that different in height, Tom was a bit taller but not many were as tall as him.
Not knowing the name of the new guy he just tapped on his shoulder to get the boy’s attention.
-Hello, do you need anything? - he asked and, at the sound of his voice the other seemed to immediately stiffen, just to relax immediately, so fast that Tom had to ask himself if he had just imagined it.
The first thing he noticed as he finally had a chance to look at the other's face were his eyes.
Greener than anything he ever saw, the same shade as the killing curse, but as hard as gems.
He fought the urge to squirm under that gaze, but he couldn't help but feel little again. Those were the eyes of a battle worn soldier, eyes that saw terrible things and had to live through unspeakable hardship.
Somehow the same eyes that he saw in the injured soldiers who wandered the streets of London, but also completely different. Definitely less broken.
Tom felt like a school boy staring at a commander and he was incredibly surprised by how he didn't hate it.
Normally feeling helpless was the worst thing that could happen to him, but there was a softness in there too, one that he felt directed specifically towards him and that made him feel somewhat safe.
He immediately snapped out of that line of thought, hoping that the other hadn't noticed the little tangent his brain decided to take.
Tom immediately called himself stupid for being startled, some transfers had seen the war firsthand and obviously had trauma. Still he never saw eyes just like those, not hopeless but determined beyond comprehension.
The boy’s expression softened impossibly and he heard him mutter -smile of an angel, soul of a devil- with fondness. He was almost physically startled by the sentence but somehow managed to not let it show.
His immediate panicked thought was “he knows” but that was simply impossible, there was no way he could know. Maybe he was just reciting something to himself…
Before he could say anything else the stranger spoke.
-yeah, I'm new here, so I'm not really sure where I should go - he sounded almost like he was joking but still made a show of watching around seemingly lost.
-well you're lucky then, I'm the head boy, Tom Riddle, nice to meet you.
Right now you're in the section reserved for the first year's and it's almost impossible to find an empty compartment at this point.
You should probably check the ones for your grade and see if someone has some free space. - he almost felt the need to invite him to his own compartment, but stopped himself, the trip to the school would be his first chance to talk to his knights undisturbed. Inviting a stranger would make it impossible to ask about their improvement without raising suspicions.
-oh, right, thank you! I'm Hadrian Peverell by the way, nice to meet you too- the boy, Peverell, extended his hands.
-Peverell? I didn't know there were any left in Britain - Tom immediately shook the given hand and froze as he felt something akin to static making his way up his arm, pulling away as soon as he could without looking rude.
-there weren't… up until this summer at least. I had to move here due to the war - he said, somehow sheepishly, as if he didn't want to talk about it.
That he could understand, Peverell had probably passed something traumatic and didn't want to share it with a stranger.
-I'm sorry, I hope you'll like your time here. If you ever need help you can ask me or any of the other prefects around the school - the other boy just smiled and nodded.
-I'll make sure to do that, thank you. See you around then - he said and immediately marched towards the upper years compartments.