'The castle grounds were gleaming in the sunlight as though freshly painted; the cloudless sky smiled at itself in the smoothly sparkling lake, the satin-green lawns rippled occasionally in a gentle breeze.'

_Order of the Phoenix_

Tom despised the summer holidays. Almost two months of perpetual boredom, waiting impatiently for letters from his followers and the usual invitation from Abraxas to stay at his ancestral home. It was made worse by the crucial fact that the last of Tom's bandages had only been removed about a week previously, and so he'd sat through his OWLs in a head-aching stupor, writing feverishly in the hope that he still remembered absolutely everything that would pertain to an Outstanding in all of his subjects.

Furthermore, he had to return to the dreadful orphanage that was Wool's, and be feared by Mrs Cole and her weak-willed helpers for longer than he could cope for, and attempt to ignore the mutterings of Billy Stubbs and suchlike behind his back. All in all, it would be one of many similarly soulless stays in the vile place.

*

Ginevra usually enjoyed the summer: its joys, the good weather, seeing her parents, reading all day long. That had been the case when she had gone by the name of Hermione and had parents to lovingly embrace at King's Cross. Now, annoyingly, Tom believed that she lived in Wiltshire, and subsequently expected to see her when he visited Abraxas, or so she assumed. In reality, Ginevra would be staying at Hogwarts for the summer, and had told Tom and Abraxas that her parents were abroad in France, and that she'd lacked the enthusiasm to join them. She'd sensed fury in Tom at that point and had endeavoured to flee the conversation.

During her stay at the castle, she browsed the library to her heart's content, revising for her NEWTs. It was annoying, really, that she had none of her old notes on her. She would have been sorted for these exams. However, strangely, she was almost more concerned with the subject of her return to present-day. The NEWT results would go down in history under a different name, if she was even stuck here for that long. She had no reason to be disappointed with Acceptables or even Exceeds Expectations, she realised that now. She understood Ron's exasperation. Oh, Ron...

Ginevra was determined to find a way back. She couldn't leave Ron quailing under Lav-Lav's womanly wiles. Or Harry without her font of knowledge. She searched the multitude of books at her disposal with determination, and even resolved to ask Dumbledore for authorisation to enter the Restricted Section. Once permission was granted, she ferreted around for any books referencing time travel.

*

Tom had finally received confirmation of his stay from Abraxas, and had immediately taken all possible modes of Muggle transport to get to the Malfoy abode. He'd been greeted by the very boy himself at the door, and had proceeded to dump his few possessions in the guest room before enclosing himself in the gargantuan library, fully prepared to find everything about Horcruxes.

He'd made one, and that was a good start. But Tom wanted seven, and that meant that he should properly research the after-effects of the Dark objects, before setting off on a killing spree. He briefly considered murdering another student at Hogwarts but, no, it was too risky. Dumbledore already suspected him of having a hand in Warren's death, despite all the other professors hailing him as a hero for framing the giant oaf.

No, he should kill somebody completely unconnected with Hogwarts. What about_ the idea struck him like Hagrid had merely months ago. His father. The father who'd abandoned him, left him for dead on the doorstep of Wool's. His eyes burned with fury as he contemplated this knew murderous thought. He could kill him. He could watch the light leave his eyes, hear him beg for mercy before the green light encased his body_ He could witness the legend he had become, the legend he'd so ruthlessly left uncared for. He would pay. With every last breath left in his body.

*

Ginevra huffed in irritation. There was nothing here. Nothing. It had been three whole hours and she'd found nothing substantial enough to get her back to 1996. Should she just give up now? Did she have reason to go back? Misty clouds of misery threatened to float before her eyes, but she shook them away.

She had a reason for going back. Harry needed to defeat the very person Ginevra had a tentative friendship with. Ron needed to pass his NEWTs. Ginny needed someone to gossip with. Neville needed confidence. Lavender needed a good kick up the backside. And Ginevra was the embodiment of all those things. She was determination; she was encouragement; she was confidence; she was even the foot that wore the boot to propel Lavender into the nearest wall. She had a reason for returning.

*

Tom had managed to calm himself down enough to leave the library about two hours after he thought of his brilliant plan, and went immediately to consult Abraxas. Where Mr and Mrs Malfoy were, Tom had no idea. He didn't get the feeling that they cared very much about their son's input in their lives. Neither did he, much, for that matter. Abraxas was simply a pawn that Tom used to be a listening ear to all his devilishly complicated schemes.

"Abraxas!" He hailed the blonde-haired buffoon in the corridor. "Want to hear my newest plan of destruction?"

"Sure, Tom," Abraxas replied mildly, without raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I'm going to create another Horcrux."

Here Abraxas blinked, almost imperceptibly, with discomfort.

"I'm going to kill my father."

There was a pregnant pause, after which Abraxas eventually forced his vocal cords into use.

"You're going to, what?"

"Kill my father," Tom answered coolly.

"Tom," Abraxas said slowly, "do you even know who he is?"

"No," Tom said simply, "But I know how to check. I have family in Little Hangleton," he added to Abraxas' intrigued look.

"What if he's actually nice?" Was the boy's third irksome question.

"He's not," Tom snapped.

"What if leaving you was a mistake?"

"It wasn't." Tom's eyes flashed. "I'm sure of it!"

Abraxas' mouth gaped open again.

"You're_"

"Don't even say it! I will not hear you utter anything more!" Tom's temper flared immediately, and he got up from the sofa they'd been sitting on.

Abraxas stood up more cautiously, either worried about his knees, or Tom.

"Tom, it doesn't change a thing," he said softly, moving forwards. "The identity of your parents. You're Tom Riddle. You're a genius. It doesn't change my feelings about you one bit."

Tom blinked this time.

"Really?" He sounded unsure, anger momentarily forgotten.

"Of course not, Tom. Don't be silly."

Abraxas was the only mortal being who would ever get away with calling Lord Voldemort silly. It was a fact that would be proven very shortly.

*****

A.N. And we end with foreshadowing. Dun dun dun-n-n-n.....

This chapter is dedicated to @Noorulain1011 for their continued support and also because I didn't update as quickly as they wanted me to. I apologise. :)

Thank you for reading and PLEASE COMMENT!