Cold-Blooded (Tom Riddle x Reader)

Chapter 1

The story-telling would be different from the viewing of memory. In these chapters, they won't be just simple fast-forward flashbacks. You'll hear your thoughts; see every detail; talk in every conversation-- everything will be natural. The point of Harry looking through your memories would serve its later purpose in the future chapters. For now, enjoy your life as a nine-year old-- your age when you met the infamous Tom Riddle ^^ Enjoy!

Also to clear things up:

(Y/n)= your name               (f/c)= favorite color

(L/n)= last name                 (e/c)= eye color

(s/c)= skin color                  (h/c)= hair color

~*~*~

March 10, 1935

          "Papa, why are we here?" You asked innocently to your father, as your (e/c) young eyes stared at the entrance gate separating your small frame from the building inside. You adjusted your arm on your mobile chest, packed with mainly of your clothes and some of your personal belongings, before looking at your father with two men behind him wearing identical gray trench coats and fedoras.

One man's face screams experience, based on how old he looked. Just looking at his expression, you could tell that he's been through this before. His dull brown eyes behind his circular-framed glasses remains unfazed over the unfortunate event that's about to happen next, as his wrinkled face resisted the urge to scowl-- whether the reason was to keep his face from wrinkling more or to hide his displeasure was beyond you. Despite the uniform, he looked unkempt with his uncombed brown hair streaked with gray reaching his shoulders.

His partner, however, was a different story. He looked young, fairly inexperienced but not naive. He seemed to be an ideal role model based from how proudly he presented his badge on his ironed trench coat for the whole world to see. He was a blonde, his hair gelled, a bit good-looking with his sapphire eyes, but something about his aura made him unattractive. Perhaps it was the unnecessary authority he's emitting that makes him intimidating. Despite the latter, you could tell that it was the older man who has authority over their partnership.

Looking back at the gate, you read the words engraved on top, seeming to be the title of the property. Wool's Orphanage, the sign read, as brick walls surrounded the place with barbed wires on top of it for better protection. Piecing your thoughts together, your nine-year old mind came up with a conclusion that devastated you greatly to even consider that option.

"A-are you giving me away?" Voice cracking at the end of your question, you fully faced the three men behind you. "Did they tell you to give me away?!" You gestured at the two men holding your father in place-- his wand in one of the men's hand, disabling his magic.

The (h/c)-haired man gestured for his captors to temporarily let him go, to which the two fine-suited men reluctantly agreed to. Slowly, your father knelt on one knee to match your level, before he let his arms spread, inviting you to his embrace. With no hesitation, you leaped to your father's welcoming hug, burying your face to the crook of his neck, as he tightened his hold around you.

"It's not fair," You sobbed, letting your tears flow smoothly on your paled (s/c) cheeks, only to land on your father's black turtleneck. "Why do they have to take you away? It wasn't you who started it!" After having to hiccup a few moments, you continued on with your pointless argument. "You did it out of self defense!" You cried out. "Those muggles killed mama!"

"Even so..." Your father finally spoke, before sighing. "The law is the law; no matter what happens, nobody is exempted from it. I shouldn't have let my emotions make me forget what was right." Pulling you away from his embrace, he looked at you in your (e/c) crystals, however, you refused to return the contact. "You saw what happened. I became what those muggles were, therefore I was just as wrong as them,"