December 24th, 1980
Lily and James had been stressed. Being in hiding as well as trying to make Harry’s first Christmas memorable for them all had been taking its toll.
They had just put Harry to bed for the night when a loud thud came from outside the front door.
“Lily, stay here.” James whipped out his wand as he headed to the door. Taking slow steps, he lifted the edge of the curtain to peer out the window.
Seeing nothing, he cracked the door open. “Lily,” he called back into the house, “you may want to come see this.”
On their doorstep lay a baby wrapped only in rags. Lily, upon seeing this, picked the baby up and rushed into the house. “Who would leave a baby outside like this in December?” She couldn’t fathom the thought. Imagining her Harry laying out there in the cold sent a shiver down her spine. “James, grab some of Harry’s clothes please.”
As she focused on warming him up, a note fell out of the wrappings.
Tom Marvolo Riddle
February 15th, 1996
Tom was fuming.
How dare that ingrate do that to Harry.
When Tom had left Harry, he’d been sobbing. Harry may have been soft, but he didn’t cry often. Tom was going to get revenge on the damn Weasley who broke his brother's heart even if it got him expelled. It was bad enough that Dumbledore seemed to be perfectly fine with sacrificing Harry's life for a war that no longer existed; Tom unfortunately had no power to stop that from happening. He did, however, most certainly have the power to ensure that Fred Weasley would never be able to break Harry’s heart again.
Tom knew his morals were lacking, for lack of a better word; knew that Harry wouldn’t approve of how he goes about this, but his darling brother always forgave him in the end and Tom knew it would be no different this time.
With a plan in mind, Tom gets to work. A sly grin makes its way across his face as he sifts through his definitely not illegal potion collection hidden in his trunk.
Carefully tucking his prize into his robes, Tom briskly makes his way to where he had left Harry. The soft sobbing can still be heard from the hidden nook within the dungeons.
“Harry, I’m back.” Harry’s head whipped up at Tom's voice.
“Tom,” Harry’s voice was muffled behind his sleeves as he attempted to wipe his tears away, “I thought you had things to do.” The waver in Harry’s voice just fueled Tom’s anger.
“Nothing could be more important than making sure my brother is okay.” His hand brushed Harry’s hair back, unveiling his brother's red rimmed eyes. He would kill the bastard if he didn’t think Dumbledore would lock him away for it.
Carefully, he plucked a single hair from Harry’s head as he pulled his hand back. That should do it, he thought to himself.
Chest puffed out, and a smug grin fighting its way onto his face, he collected himself to leave. “Harry, I have an errand to run, but I promise you I will be back before dinner.” Tom made sure to look Harry in the eyes as he spoke slowly. He waited - one second, two seconds - until finally Harry nodded his head, flopping his chin to his chest as he finished.
Tom allowed himself one last pat to Harry’s head as he left.
He walked as briskly as he could in the direction of a secret passage.
“-await your arrival, Minerva.” Dumbledore’s voice echoed through the empty dungeons. Tom cursed his luck as he glanced quickly around for a room, an alcove, anything, to slip into.
A sigh escaped him as he came up with nothing and the garish purple robes of the Headmaster came into view. He glared at the man, refusing to acknowledge his presence first.
“Hello Tom.” Dumbledore’s voice was friendly on the surface. He always sounded friendly. The problem is that his eyes were cold and calculating, just like how he looked at Harry, the small twinkle doing nothing to mask his manipulations from Tom.
“Headmaster.” Tom nodded, his voice cold. He tried to be friendly to the man when he was younger, and it got him nowhere; he would be as unfriendly as he liked now.
Stepping aside to allow the adults past, Tom waited until the corridor was clear once more.
Finally, he made it into the safety of the passage. This one, only he and Harry knew of; and it required parseltongue to open which suited him just fine.
Tom quickly dropped Harry’s hair into the now open flask, waiting for the colour to settle before drinking it. He grimaced as he felt his skin bubble and bones shift. Polyjuice was one of his least favourite potions to drink, if only for the experience.
He grabbed the spares of Harry’s casual clothes that he’d tucked away in his school bag, and went about putting them on, detesting the way Harry preferred comfort clothes over fashion.
Conjuring a mirror to check himself over, his - now green - eyes scanned down his - Harry’s - body critically.
“I suppose this is the best it will get.” He huffed under his breath, packing his bag up again. Standing up and heading to the exit, he said, “Time to find the stupid Weasel.”
----------------------------------------------------
“Fred!” Tom called, impersonating Harry’s voice surprisingly well.
Fred looked up, a smile crossing his face and making Tom feel disgust curdle in his stomach. “Harry, love, what’re you doing here?” Tom had to fight a gag as Fred wrapped his arm around his shoulders.
“I have a gift for you.” Tom tried to imitate Harry’s lovesick look, but he looked away when he knew he couldn’t keep it up. “You know, since I didn’t get to see you yesterday…”
“You know you didn’t need to get me anything.” Fred didn’t even sound sincere, and it was making Tom livid.
“Of course I did! Here,” Tom forced the package into Fred’s hands, “open it.”
Tom held his breath as he carefully observed Fred opening the package. As soon as his hand made contact with the contents, Tom let a grin slide onto his face.
The Great Hall flooded with noise as a memory, modified to only contain the relevant points, of the event began playing.
Harry asking to be Fred’s date on valentines, and subsequently being turned down with Fred citing detention as the reason.
Harry going to Fred’s dorm to lie down and wait for him to come back, only to hear sounds from inside.
Harry cracking the door open to find Fred in bed with Angelina. Naked. Very naked.
As the memories loop, Tom looks at Fred’s face. The words “Cheater” spelled out across his forehead with spells that would cost a small fortune to remove. Fred’s eyes wide in shock, mouth agape.
Tom can feel his body fizzling back into the proper place, and watches in Fred’s eyes as his expression changes from shock to anger.
“What did you do?” Fred snarled.
“I protected my brother.” Tom was smiling, even as he and Fred were carted to the Headmasters office.
After much arguing, and Harry bursting in to argue on his behalf, Tom was let off with an in-school suspension. Fred disappeared from the school all together, but that’s a story for another day.