The Strays of London - Harry Potter x Tom Riddle

Chapter 1

Harry Potter was 7 years old the first time he was moved to a different home. Having been found on a doorstep 6 years ago, with only an embroidered hat stating his name, it was somewhat unsurprising that he was being abandoned yet again.

Still too young to fully comprehend the concept of abandonment it didn't hurt him as much as you might think, but Harry still had some grasp of what was going on around him. For example, he knew that being moved to another orphanage was uncommon in 1918, most kids got sickly and didn't stay much longer after, the stronger ones being sent to the workhouses as soon as they were able. He also knew it was strange that he had not been sick a day in his life, just like he knew that the strange things that happened around him caused nothing but trouble. It was for this reason that Harry had learnt pretty quickly to not spend enough time in one place to gain attention, which is why it may be surprising to learn that the reason behind his rehoming was due to him getting picked up by the police for theft.

While he may have never been sick before, Harry knew hunger, knew that if he didn't get food, he would end up weak, unable to run from trouble when it brewed. There was of course, food provided at the orphanage, but whenever Harry was there, he would often be targeted by the older boys, stealing his food, tripping him up, calling him names. One boy, Oliver Ellis, seemed to have made it his personal mission to give Harry as many scars as he could to 'match' the one on his forehead.

It was a strange scar, it didn't hurt per say, but it was uncomfortable, and never fully healed. Often when he was angry, the scar seemed to egg him on, and the angrier he got, the more it hurt - like something was trying to break free out of his skin. More than anything however, it was also an imperfection, and any of the very few potential adoptive parents that trickled through, did not want an imperfect child.

So, 7-year-old Harry Potter had learnt to survive on his own, becoming quick on his feet and quiet when he needed to be. It had been an unlucky circumstance that got him caught, a woman had turned the corner as he ran from the store, bread in hand, causing Harry to veer into a nearby alley and straight into a young constable who quickly caught him by the shoulder. There was no room for sympathy in this age, no matter how young you were, so Harry had no choice but to go along when the officer brought him home, telling his matron what he had done. She had been forced to pay a fine, the boy being in her care, and soon after had decided he was more trouble than he was worth. Harry was lucky, he supposed, that she had not thrown him to the streets, or worse the workhouse. Instead, he found himself stood outside Wool's Orphanage on a dingy street just off Vauxhall Road.

And here, is where our story begins.