I blink. I am standing in front of a shop at Kings Cross. At least, I think it's Kings Cross. The crowd is the same and so are the shops and yet the people are all dressed in old-fashioned robes like the ones we saw in our History of Magic textbooks. I reach up to ruffle my hair but my hand doesn't snag on messy locks. It closes around thin air. Panicking, I start to turn until something catches my eye in the window of the bakery.
The sign in the window catches my eye.
1938.
It's 1938.
Tom Riddle is going to his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Then, my eyes refocus and I find myself staring at a reflection. No. My reflection. Except for the fact that it isn't my reflection.
The boy staring back at me is not Harry James Potter with messy black hair, emerald green eyes, and large round glasses. I regard him curiously. He has windswept hair the color of cinnamon and his eyes are a striking olive green while his skin is a cool beige.
That's not me! I think. I was certainly not expecting an answer.
Yes, you dimwit! Of course it's not you! an incredulous voice mutters. I look around wildly, trying to find its source.
This is why you weren't placed in Ravenclaw. You've got the brains of an insect the size of your thumb! I'm in you head, dummy! In. Your. Head.
Oh. I think. What do I do next?
Uh...go aboard the Hogwarts Express!
What?
Nevermind, I'll do it myself. By the way, you're Arius now. Arius Orion Lenoir.
Arius what now?
Arius Orion Lenoir. Just...call me Arius or Lenoir.
...okay.
My feet start of their own accord, my hands pushing the trolley. I line myself up with the wall and run, the gateway opening for me.
As I round the corner, my breath is taken away.
The Hogwarts Express never fails to awe me.
YOU ARE READING
Death is an Angel
FanfictionThere was once a boy. He was a brilliant boy at that. When he died, Riddle would never be the same. Ever. ...Arius. Arius Orion Lenoir. And you are?....Tom Riddle.... There are things that Death cannot touch...Memories.....
