Back in the Night

Tom Riddle didn't mean to fall in love.

He never expected it. It was just something that didn't happen to him. He was too independent, too clever, too aloof to ever fall in love. Love was like needing someone. Well, he never had needed anyone and he wasn't about to start needing anyone either.

But this was before he had his moment of weakness.

He'd just graduated from Hogwarts. He was qualified and ready to set out into the world. He had a pretty good idea of what he was going to do, as well. Everyone was going to remember him, and he was going to get the power he needed. He wasn't sure what he was going to have to do to get that power, but he was going to.

But Tom had never expected that one day he was going to enter into a popular wizarding club for a drink one night. After all, that's not the sort of thing one does when one is a budding twenty-two year old supreme sorcerer in the making. But he did, and after a few hours and six empty glasses he was feeling something he hadn't felt before.

Confused, but happy. Superlatively happy. He was dancing around with a very stupid grin on his face - which had already changed considerably from the handsome, boyish face it had been - and had a sudden urge to kick things just for the Hell of it. He laughed in a very strange way that he had never laughed before. He was dancing with complete and utter strangers, and not all of them women. He gave a small hiccup and realised with a dull outrage in his subconscious brain that he was, for the first time in his life, completely wasted.

"Hi," said a female voice from behind him. Tom turned and bestowed his drunken smile on a young, pretty woman in a waitress uniform. "Can I help you?"

"Who're you?" asked Tom indignantly, swaying slightly on the spot.

"I'm Alison," said the woman. "I'm one of the attendants. You look a bit on the tipsy side, Mr...?"

"Widdle," said Tom, slurring his words. "Dom Widdle."

Alison raised her eyebrows slightly but just said, "Well, Dom, as I'm on my break it may interest you to know that I'm looking for a nice pissed guy to share a meaningless dance and maybe a passionate snog that we can completely forget about after tonight with, and you seem to fit the bill nicely. Care to dance."

Tom burped, but managed to say, "That'd be nice," around it. Alison laughed.

"Freak," she said, fondly, and put her hands around his waist.

I've never done this before, thought the part of Tom's brain that could still think. It's quite nice really. I should make the most of this. I won't have time when I'm king of the world.

The rest of the evening was just a long blur for Tom. From what he could remember as he rolled off the sofa the next morning, it had involved mass of drinking, sexually evocative dancing and being sick. He vaguely remembered a dark-haired girl being in his bed, as well, doing things to him that nobody else had ever done to him before. Things that felt...well, good. He couldn't for the life of him remember who it had been, though. After she'd gone he'd stumbled downstairs and crashed on the sofa, where he was now.

He got up and combated the headache gnawing at his temple, and went to open a window. He noticed something written on a piece of paper on the floor. He bent down and picked it up.

Alison: 01920-463216

Alison? It all came flooding back. Alison had been that woman. She'd been nice. Very nice. Tom laughed to himself. If she thought he was going to call her on a Muggle telephone...he didn't even own a telephone!

It wasn't until a week later that Tom bumped into Alison again, quite literally. His thoughts were not on the pavement, they were on his plans of domination. So he didn't notice Alison until he'd walked straight into her.

"Oh, sorry. Oh, hello Dom!" said the brunette, brightly. "How're you?"

"My name's Tom," said Tom. "And I'm reasonable."

"Great," said Alison. "Fancy a drink? There's a nice pub down there."

She gestured vaguely towards the end of the street. Tom nodded curtly.

"Thank you but no," he said. "You see, I'm rather busy."

Despite his cold response Alison wasn't fazed.

"Hey, don't worry," she said, taking his arm slightly forcefully. "Whoever you work for won't care if you're gone for an hour. Come get some booze down your neck!"

"Are you just trying to get me drunk so I'll get into bed with you again?" asked Tom, coldly. He hid very well the fact that he had never been in bed with another woman before.

Alison laughed like a drain and said, "Don't worry, I'm not. You can have lemonade or something. Just come, it's a great atmosphere."

In spite of protests, Tom eventually found himself inside the pub and having a friendly drink with Alison. It was amazing how she became even prettier under the influence of a couple of beers.

Tom didn't expect to see Alison again after that. But he didn't expect to become the most feared dark wizard of the millennium, either.

Clever and witty he might have been, Tom Riddle was not rich. His landlord gave him the boot about a month after his drink with Alison. Back repayments owed, things like that. Tom vaguely remembered leaving a piece of paper in a drawer. He grabbed it and after packing he went to a payphone and rang the number.

"Hello?"

A woman picked it up.

"Al?"

"Speaking."

"It's Tom. Tom Riddle."

"Oh, hi! What is it?"

"I know this is a little disrespectable, but could you give me a room? I've been evicted. I'll pay you."

"Sure."

So Tom moved in with Alison. It didn't cause any problems for a year, but Tom's increasing darkness did not appeal to his new roommate. Finally there was a night Tom was not going to forget in a hurry.

"Thomas, I want you out," said Alison, facing Tom with her arms folded. Tom stood up.

"What? You can't do that."

"I can," said Alison. "You're not the sort of person I want to be associated with. Voldemort is what your horrible friends call you. I suppose you know that "vol" "de" and "mort" are all French words and they mean flight of death?"

"No," lied Tom. He did know. Well that was why he'd chosen it, wasn't it?

"Tom, I liked you, but you've gone too far down a road that I don't want anything to do with," said Alison, pain in her blue eyes stabbing into Tom's heart. He didn't know why. Alison was hurt. So what? He didn't care.

"Allie, please," said Tom, in a voice he had never used.

"I'm sorry Tom," said Alison. "But I can't keep you here."

"Well can I have one last thing?" asked Tom.

"Alright," said Alison.

That last thing was the thing that stayed imprinted on Tom's mind forever. A night with Alison, in her bed, doing those pleasurable things they had done over a year ago, but this time his senses were not dumbed down by excessive amounts of alcohol. The sex was great: uncomplicated but somehow fiery passionate.

But it was over all too soon.

It really was the last thing Alison was going to do for him. He didn't see her for months after that night. He was living with a friend of his when he bumped into her again, coming out of a hospital.

"Alison?" he said. His heart swelled when he saw her. Then he noticed the distinctive bump on her belly. "Oh my God, you're not...?"

"Of course I am," said Alison. "It's John's. My boyfriend's. Although he's cleared off. Scummy shit."

"Alison," began Tom, not knowing what to say. The fact that she'd had a boyfriend after he'd left hurt him. And he'd thought nothing could hurt him. "I...Alison...Please come with me. I'll take care of you and your baby, and you can have any money that I possess. You can have a life. You don't have to be the single mother that gave birth to me. Please. I'll...I'll share my life with you."

This was the most heartfelt thing Tom Riddle was ever going to say, although he didn't know it. He thought Alison would accept, but her reply was negative.

"No, Tom. You're corrupt and disturbed," said Alison. "You need help. What we had was exactly what I said it was: meaningless. We aren't meant to be. Your life is taking a different path to the one I intend to follow."

"But Al," said Tom, almost pleadingly. "I'd...I'd change my whole life for you."

"I'm sorry, Tom," said Alison, with as much feeling in her eyes as a piece of rock. "But you aren't the man I knew."

And she walked off. Just left him there, standing in the streets. If she'd said yes, if she'd just agreed, things would have been different. There would have been no terror, no killings, no Voldemort. No Death Eaters, no Dark Mark, no famous Harry Potter. If Alison had agreed to share Tom Riddle's life, things would have been different.

Lord Voldemort has never let on that he once let a woman into his heart. He cannot admit - even to himself - that he loved another human being. To him it is the greatest weakness, and he will not give in to weakness.

Tom Riddle didn't mean to fall in love. It just happened.