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Riddle Me This.
Chapter 1: That's the Riddle.


Number four Private Drive was one of many very plain, very boring, very repetitive homes on Privet Drive. Number four simply had to be the most ordinary, boring and repetitive of the lot. The Dursley's prided themselves on these facts, caring nothing for the more spicy edge life gave to a person. Unlike some houses on the lot who had decorations, even if it was a bird bath here or a pink flamingo there, Number four would have none of that. No, boring was best, pristine was better. They had a lovely garden full of Tulips, Gardenia's and some others no one cared to name but that was the most interesting thing about the house. The people inside the home were even more boring and unimaginative then the home itself. A feat worthy of an award some would say, but then the many neighbors of Privet Drive had a lot to say about Number 4.


“Oh Marianne dear you should be lifting that,” an elderly woman in her sixties said as many of the ladies of Privet Drive sat on the front patio of Number twelves front yard.


Marianne was a younger woman, incidentally the daughter of the elderly woman who lived on Number twelve. She stood a little under average height with long wavy brown hair and leaf green eyes. She was currently eight months pregnant. Around the rather large table sat her mother, Number twelve herself, Marsha Wright, though the only thing that connected the two as related were their identical leaf green eyes.


Next was Mrs. Kane, a woman in her early forties who lived next door to the Dursley's at number five. She had graying black hair and brown eyes on a ever smiling face. Beside her was Mrs. Lilly who lived on number six and was always a favorite pet peeve of Petunia Dursley though none knew exactly why. She too was a rather young beauty with long red hair and sapphire blue eyes. The last was an old family friend to Mrs. Wright and was closer to her age in her late fifties with graying blonde hair and big blue eyes. Mrs. Cook had been babysitting Mrs. Wrights kids for years and lived on Number nine all those years.


“It's just a small box mum,” Marianne Wellington – which was her married name – said as she placed the box on the grass and sat down in her seat beside her mother. The box was taped shut with only two words, baby clothes.


“I'd hate to see what you think is a large box dear,” Mrs. Cook said with a small laugh.


“Have you all heard the news?” Mrs. Lilly finally asked, unable to hold back the gossip any longer. It was well known amongst the laddies that Caroline Lilly was not one to withhold information. She was a bit of a gossiper but could hold a secret if it was important. She was a far cry from Petunia though who believed herself to do no wrong and be the gossiper of the century. It was a rather pathetic attempt on the horse like woman's part.


“What this time Carol, did Mrs. Figg trip over another one of her precious cats?” Mrs. Kane asked. The ladies all laughed and Mrs. Lilly huffed.


“Now that you mention it, yes she did, but that's not what I was referring too!” she exclaimed. “No, it's to do with the Dursley's.”


This caught the ladies' attention and they all sat forward. “Well Care don't just stop, what about them?” Mrs. Kane urged.


“I've heard that they have another boy living with them, their nephew.” The ladies all gaped at her and Marianne blinked.


“Another boy? Dear lord with Petty Petunia and Vulgar Vernon looking after another child we should pray we don't get another bad mannered boy!” Mrs. Wright exclaimed. Mrs. Kane nodded.


“Yes, I agree. My daughter goes to school with the Dursley boy but I don't think we have to worry about the other boy. I thought Sophie was exaggerating since I've never seen hide nor hair of the boy but now I can't help but believe it.” Mrs. Kane bit her lip.


“Well, what happened?” Marianne asked.


“Sophie came home from school a week ago with a broken arm you know, caused by the Dursley boy only he wasn't blamed.”


“Why ever not!?” Mrs. Cook cried, horrified. Mrs. Lilly snorted.


“Isn't it obvious, the whale of boy blamed poor little Harry, his cousin if my sources are correct,” she answered and Mrs. Kane nodded.


“Harry Potter, that's his name. Sophie tried to befriend him but the Dursley boy saw and attacked them. Broke my poor Sophie’s arm he did. Disgusting behavior. Sophie says no one goes around the Potter boy because of that hoodlum.” Everyone shook their head.


“Those Dursley's, rotten to the core,” Mrs. Wright said and each lady nodded.


It was not uncommon for the Dursley's to be put down around the neighborhood as is seen above but of course the Dursley's were under the impression they were the most loved family in the neighborhood.


Mrs. Petunia Jane Dursley nee Evans was a plain woman with no redeeming nor endearing features – except maybe her rather thin waist for a woman who had birthed such a large baby – and a horse like appearance. Her neck was twice if not thrice as long as it should be, and she seemed almost willowy she was so thin and tall. Unnatural others around the neighborhood would mutter to each other behind the woman's back. Long limbs, pale pasty skin, large watery blue eyes and dull blonde hair. She was over all a boring woman who had little fashion sense despite her own belief and it was how she seemed to like it best.


Mr. Vernon Eugene Dursley was a large beefy man, and that was putting it nicely. He was as big as a walrus, an obese walrus who seemed to be getting larger every year. He had pink cheeks from exertion and all the yelling he liked to do seemed to be the culprit since no one believed the man was capable of running. He had blonde hair though much fairer and thinner then his wife's hair and beady blue eyes. He worked at a company that made drills. Needless to say Vernon didn't have much in the looks compartment nor the brains, in a contest between a monkey and Vernon, the monkey would win.


Dudley Vernon Dursley – a poor soul with the initials of DVD – was a lot like his father but at this stage looked more like a pig or baby whale. He had blonde hair as both his parents did, but in his mothers darker shade and his mothers watery eyes yet they were the darker blue of his father. A perfect mix some would say, but then no one had ever seen a horse/giraffe and a walrus mate before Dudley came along. Dudley was a bully, and everyone knew it. No one wanted their child to be around such a boy but then there were those who didn't care, thinking their was no better mannered boy around.


The last resident of Number four was rarely seen or talked about but unknown to the Dursleys he was known. He was also the least anyone would ever suspect to live with such a bland family, for he was not normal, plain or boring. No Harry James Potter had character, he had life and most of all brains. Harry ruined his relatives image as the perfect family, with his ravens black hair that would never stay flat the shorter it was and bright green eyes. He was small for his young age of five yet he was a little taller then most he'd seen at school – when he was allowed to go.


He figured this was one of the reasons the authorities never came for the Dursleys for neglect and abuse. By now though he was used to it, he didn't trust very well anyways, not that he'd ever been given much reason to trust anyone. All adults seemed to ignore the signs right in front of them and his relatives gave a piss poor impression of what others would be like. He knew his relatives hated him, they'd never hid it, not even once.


Harry wasn't very fond of them though either. Sometimes he imaged the Dursley's feeling the pain he felt as revenge. Once it had even worked though he never really understood how, but it was draining and when he had woken up his Uncle was up and going at him with his belt. He didn't do it to Vernon or even Petunia ever again, and used it very rarely. He wasn't a complete sadist after all, though his cousin Dudley still didn't understand that more he went after Harry with his stupid gang of friends the more likely Harry was going to snap and he was going to feel that pain again. Harry never pretended his cousin had brains, but he thought he was a bit smarter then that. Guess not.


Harry was special though, and he knew it. He'd let his relatives words go in one ear and out the other for years now. Of course he couldn't not hear everything, so that's how the windows in number four had all blown inwards when he was three. He couldn't move without a limp for a month after that.

Today though was beginning no differently then any other.


Harry – mostly Freak or Boy to the Dursleys – was woken early by the shrill voice of Petunia – he'd refused to call her aunt a while ago, at least in his thoughts. If he wasn't polite to his Aunt and Uncle he was punished and he really wasn't in the mood for that so soon after his last punishment.


“Go cook the breakfast Boy,” Petunia said coolly. Her face was pinched in hate as she looked at him and he struggled not to return the look back to his harpy aunt. After all, he did still owe them for another two days after they had payed for laser surgery to correct his eyesight. That was a year ago, something they had hated doing since it made him happy, but he knew they didn't do it for him. They had done it because they didn't want their slave and punching bag half blind. Though if he had glared back while she was looking he'd have been punished, debt or no debt.


“Yes Aunt Petunia.”


Petunia watched her retched nephew stumble off before going to prepare for waking up Vernon and Dudley. While she did that Harry rolled his eyes and knowing he'd not be able to eat the bacon or eggs (freaks only got toast and jam if they were good) he purposely dropped the bacon on the floor and stepped on it before putting it on the fryer and spat in the eggs. Small payback for now, after all this had nothing to do with the debt. Which he thought was rather dumb and pointless to ask him but he wasn't going to ask questions when his answer was always a sound slap round the head or sometimes starvation. Don't ask question, the first rule to a semi-quiet life with his relatives.


An hour latter as the Dursleys ate large amounts of bacon and eggs, toast, and jam Harry hid his smirk as he watched with amusement, knowing just where the breakfast as been. All the while he enjoyed three slices of jammed toast, more then usual, he thought happily.


“Boy!” his uncle bellowed as he shoveled more eggs onto his plate. A dozen eggs didn't go far in the family, usually not making it past one breakfast the way Dudley and Vernon ate.


“Yes?” Harry asked. Vernon's beady eyes narrowed.


“Finish your toast and go start on your chores,” he snapped and Harry nodded, shoving the last of his toast into his mouth and hoping down from his stool at the counter. Going outside he began with painting the shed, mowing the lawn, watering the flowers, and everything else under the moon and sun. It was hard work for a five year old and going all day on only toast made the pain almost unbearable, but if he was lucky he'd get dinner.


In hindsight, he should have known ting would go sour especially that afternoon when they found his only friend, Diamond in the cupboard where he slept.


“Snake!” Petunia shrieked as she opened the cupboard without warning to yell at the boy for over watering the plants. Inside Harry lay on his coat, Diamond in his hands, well what fit the rest layed coiled on his lap. Diamond wasn't a position snake but she was large, a good sixteen inches and rather thick.


“Vernon the boy has a snake!” Harry stared up at his aunt with shock, Diamond reared back in his hands ready to strike. He was too shocked by the arrival of his aunt to notice this though.


Ssstupid horsse woman! Die! Harry gasped as Diamond lunged forward.


No! Diamond don't! Diamond never saw Vernon come thundering forward with the machete he used to cut down tree limbs and other large plants. Harry saw it all though in what seemed like slow motions.


“Oh thank god,” Petunia said, a hand over her chest. Harry sniffled, his first and only friend was gone. He continued to stared at the two pieces of his friend as Vernon turned his beady glare onto his nephew.


“I'll teach you to bring dangerous animals into this house!” Vernon snarled, advancing on him, the slightly bloody blade in his left hand. Harry knew then, if Vernon got a hold of him he'd leave this house in a body bag.


You could ask Harry what happened years latter and all he could tell you was he felt a tug in his gut, a warm feeling and then his aunt and uncle had hit the wall which was on fire. Acting quickly Harry grabbed a smallish egg from a make shift next under his bed and left the house saying a silent goodbye to his first friend.


The Dursleys never made it out of the house which quickly caught ablaze and burned to the ground by morning.


'I have to disappear,' Harry thought panicked as he ran as far from Privet Drive as he could. 'I have to become someone else.'


After that day Harry James Potter became Thomas Jasper Riddle.

 A/N: So my first story on this site. I hope you all like it, it'll span all seven years though I am not quite sure which direction Harry will go when it comes to the war. I know Harry or Tom/Tommy as is his name now will be Dark and a Slytherin. He'll have his own ideals, and goals, a slytherin to the core so to say. So we have Dark!Harry, possibly evil, Independent Harry, and Sarcastic!Harry. Everything in his past has shaped him to be a bit more like Tom Riddle in areas, but he is still his own person dispite his name which is purely coincidental on Harry part. Pairings won't come in until latter in the story, but this won't be Ginny/Harry (Tommy). So while it will be canon in areas it will be really AU in others.