AU: Tom and Harry are in Wool's Orphanage at the same time.
History may hate us, but they'll never forget our names.
How wonderful; how strange. To be loved by something that hates all else.
Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice, b...
The beginning of Sixth Year was boring, but during the Yule Break —that they were spending in the orphanage since the school was making repairs— Tom received a letter from Silverchain that informed him that his uncle planned to take out a large loan and by doing that he would destroy the family's credit.
Angered at that, he grabbed his wand, Harry's wand, and Harry and apparted them to Little Hangleton.
***
Once their, his questioned his uncle without letting their identities slip.
Morfin Gaunt, raised his knife and shouted, "Dishonoured us, she did, that little slut! And who're you, coming here and asking questions about all that? It's over."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Tom and Harry stared at this mad man before then, who was so inbred that he couldn't even speak Parseltongue.
Tom glanced around the filthy house and felt disgust as he realised that this was all that remained of the great line of Salazar Slytherin, reduced to nothing but inbreeding and madness —how could he possibly be related?
"I said who're are you?" Morfin shouted again, falling onto the floor, "Answer me or I'll cut that pretty face of yours right up! His too!"
"I wouldn't do that." Tom threatened, kicking Morfin's knife out of his hand but letting him keep his wand since he'd always liked a challenge, "If you want to fight me, don't use something that filthy Muggles do."
Morfin squinted at him for a moment and picked up his wand, he chose to remain on the floor.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"You look mighty like that Muggle, but you ain't think like him." Morfin said, tapping his head with a finger, "Who are you?"
Tom couldn't believe that Morfin hadn't figured it out yet: the reason that he and Harry were here, the reason he could speak Parseltongue, but then before he knew it, the man grinned.
"Ahh, I know," Morfin wheezed, pointing at Tom, "I know who you are! I know what you are! You're their bastard! You're my blood-traitorous sister's bastard son! Filthy half-blood! That's what you are! How dare you step foot in my house! I should 'ave known before...you've been to Riddle's house ain't you? And when he didn't want ya, you come over here didn't you? Of course he didn't want you! Who would want you? You think after all these years, when he left my dirty sister that he's gonna want to see you? You're wrong!" He then pointed to Harry, "I dunna know who you are, but I bet you're a filthy half-blood too!"
