Ariana Grindelwald (Tom Riddle Love-Story).

2018 me: I kinda wanna delete this because Crimes of Grindelwald - but, instead, I thought I'd mention that this book is at least 4 years old in 2018. At least. It might actually be 5-6 years old. Don't get mad at me if there's something wrong, this fic is older than the films. 

ALSO, this book is trash. Okay? It's trash. You were warned.

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I well realize that Tom Riddle cannot love for he is conceived under a love potion, but I still think he's cute ♥ (2016 me: wow, okay, calm down kid)

The idea of this story belongs to me, I'm not sure if somebody else had this idea, but I thought of this by myself, but anything that comes up in the Harry Potter series belongs to the amazing J.K Rowling.

2016 me: Editing this because while it isn't bad I want to kill younger me, it's still pretty average and cringey lmao. Removing bad analogies and replacing them with slightly better bad analogies. Also, not changing the math because some of y'all are rude.

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A look of mild amusement and what I'd guess to be misplaced joy appeared on Father's face as he opened the letter that had my name on it. I was curious, to say the least. He then handed the letter to me, and I read over it quickly. I found out that I was accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I really didn't see how this was warranted his reaction.

I looked up at Father, raising an eyebrow, curious.

"The deputy head's sister is the woman you were named after," he told me.

I nodded, now understanding the situation a little better. He had told me the story about Albus Dumbledore and what had happened. Either way, I was named after the sister who one of them had killed.

"You know how to get to Diagon Alley, go when you want to," he told me with a shrug. "I'm leaving."

"See you, Father," I said simply, before he stood, patted my head, then left out the door. I smiled to myself when I heard the crack of him disapparating. Though I didn't have a wand, Father had taught me wandless magic, for just in case situations. I wasn't supposed to use it if I didn't need to, but I used it whenever he was gone. But there's no point. May as well and get my things now.

I grabbed the key to the vault at Gringotts, my stationery list and walked out, magically locking the door behind me with a flick of my wrist and a point in its direction. What I liked about wandless magic was the fact that all you had to do was think about what you were going to do, and it happens. Wand magic would probably be much harder, but that didn't make it any less interesting. It caused a challenge that I'd want.

Soon enough, I arrived in the part of London I wanted to be, where I walked to the Leaky Cauldron. I had avoided muggles on my way here. They were ignorant to the greater power of magic and for some reason, the Ministry was strictly against them knowing anything. They should know. They should know that the wizards are better than they are.

"Tom," I said, my voice breaking through the bar's quietness sharply, like lightning. The barkeeper turned swiftly away from the mudblood he was speaking to. He was probably a mudblood based on what he was wearing. "Open the back now."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied bitterly, and my eyes narrowed at him.

I didn't say anything to him, there was no need. I wouldn't need him to help me ever again after today when I got my wand. "Go, open the shop to Diagon Alley," I ordered again.

He went out back, both myself and the mudblood followed him.

"I'm Tom Riddle," the mudblood introduced, apparently recognising that I was about the same age as he.

I turned to him after he was finished speaking, giving him a glare. "Don't you ever speak to me," I hissed, walking him into a wall. "You better stay in your place, you filthy mudblood."

At that stage, Tom had opened the wall up to Diagon Alley, and I walked through, leaving the shocked mudblood there. I walked up the Gringotts, and got out more money than necessary, then went out to buy my things.

At last I was walking down to Ollivanders, for I had waited that to be last. I stood outside for a moment, before entering the shop. Inside was long rows of wands.

"Hello?" I called into the shop.

A man popped up beside me, and I jumped away slightly. It was as if he apparated there. "Hello, I'm Ollivander," he said. "And you are?"

"Ariana, Ariana Grindelwald," I told him with a smile.

He smiled back, before flicking a random wand off the shelf, which started to measure the length of every component of my arm. When that was done, he looked around, and gave me a wand. But for some reason, I just had to pick up the wand I did, which glowed brightly at the tip, and I felt a really, really warm sensation tingle through my arm, and then around me.

I couldn't help but laugh at how I felt when I had it.

"Extraordinary," I heard Ollivander say, and I turned my head towards him, then the wand dimmed to nothing, and the wand stopped giving me that feeling. "You're the first person who just knew to pick up the wand that had chosen them."

I smiled. "Really?" I asked him, feeling rather proud of myself.

He nodded. "Yes, well, that wand is made from a rather old, and fine apple tree, 12 and a half inches, its core is thestral bone, which gives your wand a bone-white colour. Sturdy, good for dueling."

I smiled. "I love it so much," I whispered, remembering this. I can't wait until I can tell Father about this. "How much?"

"Seven galleons," he said.

I handed him seven of my last twenty galleons, leaving me with 58 galleons (yes, fifty-flipping-eight because y'all annoy me). I may as well buy lunch with this now ....