Tom Riddle | Short Stories

Little Hangleton

Tom watched the countryside pass as he neared little Hangleton from his car window. It seemed quaint in comparison to the splendor that was Hogwarts. He watched as the houses on the side of the road became denser.

"Glad to be coming home, Mister Riddle?" Asked the driver, Frank as he turned the car onto the path that led the way to Riddle manor.

"A little," Said Tom, glancing at the farm in the distance, home to the incredible Summer Rhosyn, she had been the only one who was willing to speak with him when he'd gone to school in the first grade, no one else quite understood Tom the way she did, and no one wanted to, being the child of scandal had that affect.

"Your father is expecting guests for dinner." Said Frank,

"So I'm meant to stay in my quarters?" Asked Tom,

"No, sir, Mister Riddle wants you there." Said Frank, and Tom furrowed his eyebrows,

"Why?" He asked, and Frank shrugged as they pulled into the driveway, and Tom was let out of the car, he walked into his home, "Do you know where my father is?" He asked one of the maids,

"In his study," Said the shaky little thing. His father had a bad habit of scaring the maids half to death before firing them,

"Thank you," Said Tom, mounting the stairs to his father's study,

"He's not alone." Said the maid in a shaky voice, "There's a man in there with him,"

"I'll wait outside," Said Tom,

"But you have a guest, Mister Riddle," Said the maid, and he paused, turning to her,

"Did she say that Summer is finally here?" He asked a smile beginning to rise to his face,

"Yes, actually. She said the Summer is finally here and then she went against my warnings and just went upstairs. I'm sorry, sir, she was just unstoppable," Said the maid,

"I'm sure," Said Tom, hurrying up the stairs and reaching his room and Opening the door to see Summer wearing his suit jacket and looking at herself in the mirror, trying to tie a tie,

"I don't care what you say, this looks far better in me than on you," Said Summer, giving up and tying it around her head like a headband,

"You can't just walk into my room and put on my clothes," Said Tom, and she turned and rolled her eyes,

"Should I be taking off some of mine?" She asked, and he had to stop himself from saying yes because he'd noticed as she'd aged she was not only witty, helliant, and beautiful, but she was a flirt too, "That was a joke, Tom, they do have jokes at your fancy boarding school?"

"They were outlawed in 1922," Said Tom, sitting on his bed and watching her, and she laughed,

"You didn't come back for Christmas this year," Said Summer, throwing a small box at him, "Or your birthday," She threw a wrapped book at him he caught it easily, and set it aside, "I mean those are holy days,"

"My Birthday is a holy day?" He asked, a smile forming on his face again,

"Yes, it goes Saint Valentine, Saint Patrick, Saint Tom," Said Summer smiling at him, and doing one of the buttons of his suit jacket, she put her hands in all the pockets of the jacket, "No wonder men are ahead in this world, they never have to carry anything for themselves."

He chuckled, and opened the small box to see a quill, a very nice quill,

"This must have been expensive," said Tom,

"No, it's from Maurice, the rooster you hate?" She said, smiling at him as he groaned, "I thought you might like getting all those perfect grades of yours with it."