Second Lieutenant Tom Riddle and the Dursleys' Girl

Chapter 1 - Tom Riddle

Thank you for reading! I don't own any of Harry Potter! Please let me know if you enjoy! Updates every Saturday!
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As the Second World War raged on, buildings burned while lives turned to ash.

The glassy-eyed dead stared blankly at an unforgiving, grey sky.

Amongst the whistle of bullets, the scourge of falling missiles, and the ever-growing flames that easily consumed entire towns during nights of destruction, a young, British private named Tom Riddle gradually gained recognition.

Tom Riddle exemplified every ideal deemed necessary by soldiers of his era.

Tom Riddle was handsome.

Tom Riddle was dedicated.

Tom Riddle had no qualms about killing.

Actually, he rather enjoyed it.

Roped into military service by a muggle's mistake three months after graduating from Hogwarts, Tom Riddle had begun his war career as a young, dark wizard looking to make a name for himself.

Tom had no interest in serving others.

He had planned his escape perfectly, yet during his first real moment in combat, instead of his troop members, enemy soldiers had become his actual victims after they had incited his rage.

The congratulatory cheers he had been met with once his enemies fell confused him.

..........Amused him.

........Made him smile and laugh.

As his fellow soldiers lifted him up into the air like a newly crowned king, Tom Riddle abandoned his thoughts of leaving the war.

With his heart entrenched in darkness, he had discovered an outlet for his macabre talents.

On the blood-stained battlefield, Tom Riddle had finally found his home.

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In a surprisingly untouched part of Surrey, the Dursley family struggled to maintain their weekly ration book.

Every night, an argument ensued as Petunia and Vernon Dursley squabbled with their adult son, Dudley, over who needed the house's only candle most.

Petunia's orphaned niece, Harriet Potter, who had been raised by the Dursleys in the cruelest ways possible, was left in the dark each evening.

The electricity in the small house had been eliminated a month prior with no hope of repair anytime soon.

Days blended together at the Dursleys' damask townhouse.

"Harriet!"

"Harriet!"

"HARRIET!"

"Coming, Aunt Petunia!" A muffled voice came from upstairs.

Steps sounded from the staircase outside the kitchen door as a scowling, middle-aged woman with a thin face and thinner, curly hair impatiently crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

The kitchen door swung open as a beautiful, young girl stepped inside and fearfully faced her angry aunt with her green eyes wide behind her glasses.

"Where on earth have you been?!" Petunia, the middle-aged woman, snapped, "I've been waiting and waiting on you, Harriet! I knew when we took you in you'd be nothing but trouble! There's so little of my sister in you and so terribly much of your father! You lazy, lazy, stupid thing! Do you think you can just loaf around our house until you come of age to use your father's money?!"