And here's the revised second chapter. Just a fair warning that not all the details such as names and timelines are accurate - some weren't really specified in the actual books or wiki pages, and others were altered to fit into this story.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter; it all belongs to J.K Rowling and Warner Brothers Inc. However, I do own Alex.

Pairings: Tom Riddle Jr./Alex Potter, mentions of Harry/Draco, Past!Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Blaise/Daphne and Past!Alex/Theo

Warnings: Language, Character Death, Mature Scenes, False Twincest, Sadism and Masochism, Dysfunctional Relationships

"Speaking"

'Thoughts'

"Parseltongue"

"Beautiful… They're so beautiful…"

She attempted to decipher her surroundings through bleary eyes, and once she did, she easily recognized the woman resting on the worn bed. She had seen Merope Gaunt from the memories, and while her appearance was not exactly striking, the woman was someone she could not easily forget – from her plain, pale face to her lank and dull hair, and those disconcerting orbs that stared in opposite directions.

She almost did not notice that she was being held in someone's arms, encased in a thin and slightly damp blanket. Her head was throbbing, and her ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton. The words exchanged in the room sounded like they were spoken underwater, and she barely followed the conversation.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, after his father… and Alexis Lilith Riddle…"

The silence that followed was deafening as she watched the life drain from Merope's eyes shortly after the names were spoken…

…and the cries began to echo once more.

…

"ALEX!" Someone called out to her urgently. The voice was both familiar and foreign to her ears. Harry? Had it all been just a dream? Was her brother still alive? "Alex, wake up! Please, wake up!"

Alex's eyes fluttered open. Everything was blurry at first, the dark spots swarming her vision obstructing her view of the face looming over hers. She felt different, somehow. Never mind that she felt immensely weak with the way her body ached and how sore her throat was – perhaps she was screaming in her sleep again – and cold sweat trickling down her forehead; her magic seemed to hum in a way that it had never done before.

Dark green pools swam into focus, and the image of Harry looking down at her in concern came forth in her mind. But the visage that greeted her was unexpected, and the image had gone faster than she had thought it up. This boy wasn't Harry. He had a pale complexion, with sharp features that resembled a young pureblood heir, with his hair parted neatly. His voice – the voice that called out to her sounded so childlike yet sent a chill of dread through her. His eyes were now noticeably a shade darker than Harry's, but had none of the love and kindness that Harry's possessed. They still, however, held a tinge of concern as they focused on her.

She didn't know this boy, and at the same time she did. There was no mistaking the person she had seen too often in Dumbledore's and Harry's memories.

"Tom?" she croaked, "Is that you?"

Relief settled Tom's face as he reached out and brushed her sweaty fringe from her forehead, before resting his cold hand on her cheek. Alex refrained from wincing at the contact. Her parents and brother's murderer was touching her, and it made her skin burn unpleasantly.

"Yes, it's me." he said comfortingly, but it only made her insides churn all the more, "I'm here, dear sister."

Alex felt her heart stop at the revelation, and a vast number of emotions flooded her at once. Why me? Her troubled mind couldn't seem to grasp the concept quick enough, Why, why, why, why…?

"I'm worried, Alex. You've been having a lot of nightmares recently." said Tom as he pulled her into a sitting position and into his embrace. The young female didn't resist; she was too shocked and too confused to do anything besides allowing the other to wrap her in a hug. She was baffled as to how the most feared wizard in history could harbor such soft feelings, when he had always deemed it as a weakness. She was puzzled as to why Fate had decided to turn her into Riddle's sister, of all things. And she was perturbed as to why she felt safe in his cold arms, as if she belonged there.

She nearly jolted in his hold. What am I thinking? Stop it, stop it…

"I have?" Alex mumbled dazedly, "I don't remember."

"You look feverish." Tom fretted with worry lacing his tone, moving her to arm's length to glimpse at her face, "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Fine. Just tired, is all," The female whispered. It was only partly a lie; she did feel rather sluggish. Her limbs were still feeling the after-effects of whatever spell Fate had placed on her.

"If you're sure." Tom clearly did not believe her, but decided not to press further, "Why don't you get dressed? Everyone else will be up soon."

Alex nodded and complied wordlessly, taking the opportunity to study the room she was in. It was a small, dull grey room. It was shabby but organized with only an old wardrobe, a couple of hard wooden chairs, a full-length mirror, and a single iron bedstead. By the looks of it, she and Tom shared one sleeping space.

The young witch tried to ignore the protest of her limbs as she moved off the bed and approached the wardrobe, blinking at the sight of her and Tom's clothing as she opened its wooden doors. There were a bunch of white button-up shirts and grey ties, a plain grey overall dress, white knee socks, and a pair of black dress shoes. Tom had pretty much the same thing, except he had a jumper, and dark trousers instead of an overall.

She looked back to where Tom was seated on the bed, staring at her with intense forest green orbs. It was scary how they appeared almost malevolent, even on the visage of a supposedly innocent adolescent boy. A shiver ran down her spine at the look and she hastily schooled her expression, hoping that her discomfort wasn't apparent.

"Tom?" she uttered softly.

Tom's eyes snapped to hers and he nodded in comprehension. He stood and headed for the door, but stopped short and said, "Call for me once you've finished." as he shut the door behind him.

The girl shook her head at this, grabbing the articles of clothing from the neatly folded piles and redressing hastily. If Tom was anything like Voldemort, then Alex knew he wasn't necessarily a patient person. She didn't know what Fate was thinking, making her his sister.

Alex sighed heavily, glancing at herself over the mirror. She looked pretty much the same, yet she wasn't. Her skin was pale like Tom's, her features a tad bit more angular – somewhat aristocratic – and her once shoulder-length, wavy black hair was now pin straight, reaching her lower back. She lifted her fringe with a shaking hand and found unblemished skin – no scar in sight. She was relieved though, when she found herself gazing at a pair of familiar emerald green eyes – her mother and brother's eyes. Her eyes. That hadn't changed, at least. But the ghost of a smile that graced her lips vanished as soon as she had noticed something else. Has she gotten shorter?

No… she was younger!

Her face still had those traces of baby fat that she had yet to grow out of, and her womanly assets were not as developed as they had been before her time jump. She wasn't certain what age she was now, but if she had to guess, she would say that she was at least somewhere between nine to eleven.

"Alex? Are you all right in there?" Tom inquired from just outside the door.

"I'm fine." she answered in a way she hoped sounded casual, despite her rising panic at the realization that she would have to experience puberty all over again, "You can come in now, Tom."

Tom strode back into the room, and it was only then that Alex had noticed that he was already dressed for the day. He combed a hand through his hair as he scowled in annoyance.

"Something the matter, brother?" Alex couldn't help but ask, almost on reflex though the words left a bitter taste in her mouth. This wasn't her brother; this wasn't Harry. She could never see this murderer as her brother. At this moment, she couldn't help but feel contempt for this boy, knowing what he would someday become – soulmate or not. But that was why she was here, wasn't it? She wasn't certain how the bond was meant to work if they were related. For all Tom knew, she had been by his side his whole life, yet she knew nothing about him besides what she had seen in memories. She had seen how cunning and manipulative he was, even at the age of eleven.

"Nothing to worry yourself over, sister." Tom smirked.

Did the boy ever truly smile? She wondered.

"Would you like me to brush your hair again?" he offered. Again. The nonchalant way he had asked clearly implied that it was a regular occurrence.

But, she thought begrudgingly, I should have to get used to it.

Alex could only nod in affirmation. Tom grabbed the worn hairbrush rested on one of the hard, wooden chairs, and gestured for his sibling to join him as he settled back down on the bed. The young witch hesitantly complied, resting on the edge of the mattress. Tom instantly positioned himself behind her, and began to run the brush through her silky tresses.

The young witch let out a breath and closed her eye, relaxation and nostalgia filling her. Theo used to do this a lot, especially when she was stressed. They would spend hours sitting in the Slytherin common room, talking about nothing in particular as Theo absentmindedly ran a hand through her hair. She could still picture their friends around them – Blaise's quips and horrible jokes to break the tension, and Daphne's reprimands as she slapped him on the head afterwards. Astoria's laughter would ring out and Draco would smirk amusedly at the display, calling Blaise an idiot. She missed them all.

"Something's troubling you." Tom stated as he placed the brush down, only for his hands to replace it as his fingers carded through her hair. He always did love her hair; it was one of her best features, making her look more elegant and mature, and smooth on his fingertips. Although, he adored her eyes more. They were sharp yet expressive, and seemed to glow with a warmth that he craved – wanting her to direct it solely towards him.

"It's nothing." Alex replied, and Tom's gaze narrowed.

"Tell me." he demanded.

"I..." Alex paused, uneasy, "I just have a feeling something is wrong, but I don't know what it is."

The suspicion in Tom's features eased slightly, and he hummed in acknowledgement, "I see. Then I suggest we be careful. You've never been wrong about these things before."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing, Tom?" She asked him.

"It's a good thing, of course. You're special, Alex. We're special."

Alex opened her mouth to speak again, when a loud bell interrupted them. She could hear the hushed whispers from the other orphans as they passed outside their door, but she didn't catch what they were saying. Their footsteps were light and careful as they walked, almost as if they were walking past a slumbering beast's dwelling.

Tom rose, and held his hand out for Alex to take, "Let's go. It's time for breakfast."

Alex now fully understood why Tom despised the orphanage, along with the people living in it. It was no better than living with the Dursleys. The other orphans – along with the matron, Mrs. Agatha Cole, and her assistant, Martha – constantly chattered about them and their odd personas, and simply thought they were freaks. They were afraid of the Riddle twins. Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop seemed utterly terrified, in fact. This alone bothered her; whatever she and Tom had done to them, it had completely traumatized the two to the point where they ran in fear at the mere sight of the siblings. And then, there was a boy named Billy Stubbs.

Alex hated him.

After a couple of weeks living in the orphanage, she found him to be arrogant and cocky, loud and obnoxious – even more so than Draco Malfoy had been before they had formed their unstable friendship. He seemed keener on insulting her more than he did Tom. Perhaps it was because she was a girl, and he thought it would have been easy to send her crying.

Fool.

One morning, his cup exploded in his hands in the middle of breakfast when Mrs. Cole wasn't looking. Glass shards scattered, drawing blood as they embedded themselves in his hands. Funnily enough, it hadn't been Tom's doing. Meanwhile, Alex felt a sense of smug satisfaction wash over her as she eyed everyone else with warning. And next to her, Tom grinned wickedly.

They watched as Mrs. Cole fussed over the boy, tending to him while sending Tom and Alex a skeptical glare as she did. The twins merely continued eating their bowl of tasteless porridge as if nothing happened.

However, Alex's insides were bubbling in trepidation. What had she done? She'd never felt so happy that she'd manage to hurt a person. Turning her Aunt Marge into a balloon didn't count, neither did slapping Draco. But to really want to hurt someone, to torture them, the urge to make them suffer immensely until they break; it was different altogether. And for what? A few measly insults? She'd received far worse from Ron and her fellow Slytherins in her first year at Hogwarts. The only other time she had ever felt this way, was when Bellatrix murdered Sirius in the Department of Ministries. She knew how much Sirius had meant to Harry, and it pained her to see him suffer like he had. Of course, she had been upset too, but Harry had known the man far better than she did.

After breakfast, Alex hurriedly retreated to their room with Tom following close behind. As soon as the door shut, she started trembling. It felt like something was eating her up from the inside out.

Tom wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him, "I don't understand why you always feel guilty. It's not like he didn't deserve it."

"I didn't mean to do it." she muttered.

"I know you didn't." he consoled and rubbed her back soothingly, which only served to worsen her mood.

She wanted to scream at him to get away from her, to curse him and slap him across the face. What happened to the temperamental Slytherin that stood her ground for what she fought for? What happened to the girl that opposed her house to stand by her brother?

She's dead. She's not you.

Her brother… she had yet to accept the fact that Tom was supposed to be her twin now, and she loathed the fact that she seemed so dependent on him for comfort. She was certain Fate didn't send her back to kill him and be done with it.

Where there is good, there will always be an evil counterpart; where there is light, there will be darkness lurking. One cannot simply exist without the other.

Did that mean she couldn't exist without Tom?

"But Dumbledore —"

"Was willing to risk your life to rid the world of a dark wizard he had intentionally created."

Dumbledore. He was the reason Tom had become Voldemort. He wanted Tom to turn into Voldemort. He had been a victim of Dumbledore's game as well, and it irked her how she had just let herself be manipulated. For the greater good, he said. It was nothing but a massive lie.

"As you mortals may say, 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions.'"

"You must know, that there would be nothing that could stop the darkness lurking in Tom Riddle's soul. However, you can stop him from falling to the brink of insanity, and completely tainting it beyond redemption."

She had promised that she would save everyone, and she would. But first, she had to save Tom Riddle. But how? What had happened with Billy was just a taste of the thrill, it seemed – the thrill of wanting to bring harm to others. With each passing day, Alex felt herself becoming more and more like Tom, and it scared her to her wits end.

Alexis Riddle – that's your name now, isn't it?

August 4, 1938

He was finally here.

Personally, Alex had been wondering when Dumbledore would show up to collect them. Her allegiances and loyalty to the old wizard had changed considerably, yet she was excited. She would get to go back to Hogwarts, and hopefully, she wouldn't have as much of a hard time. Not only would she be able to ease up a bit during lessons, but she also didn't have the constant threat to her life looming over her head like storm cloud. The perks of being reborn, she supposed.

She could hear them just outside their door – Dumbledore and Mrs. Cole – speaking in hushed tones. She already knew what they were talking about, so she needn't listen in. Finally, a knock came and Mrs. Cole cautiously peeked into the room.

"Tom, Alex? You've got a visitor. This is Mr. Dumberton – sorry, Dunderbore. He's come to tell you – well, I'll let him do it." said Mrs. Cole, and she left them.

"How do you do, children?" Dumbledore greeted, walking further into the room.

Tom and Alex, who were both sitting at the edge of their bed, turned to address him simultaneously. Their green orbs narrowed – Tom's in suspicion and Alex's in curiosity. So, this was the young Professor Dumbledore? His beard was much shorter and darker in color, as was his hair. He also had less wrinkles but still wore those eccentric, bright colored robes.

Dumbledore was startled as he glanced between the twins. There was no trace of the recent Gaunt line in either of the Riddle's faces. Merope had gotten her dying wish: they looked nothing like her. Their eyes in particular intrigued him. Tom's were dark, cold and calculating, while Alex's were bright, wary and guarded. It was the only difference between their demeanors that he deemed notable, gender aside.

The twins' distrustful gazes followed him as he sat on one of the wooden chairs right across from them, and Dumbledore didn't miss how Tom's arm encircled his sister's waist possessively.

"You're a doctor, aren't you?" Tom piped suddenly, "She wants you to have a look at me."

"No. I'm a Professor." insisted Dumbledore.

"I don't believe you. If it's not me, is it my sister then?" Tom asked with an edge to his tone that made Alex glance at him in apprehension, his hold on her waist tightening, "She wants to take Alex away from me, doesn't she?"

"Oh no, dear boy, no one is separating you from your sister."

"Why should we trust you?" Alex returned dispassionately, "How could we believe that you are any different from every other person who thinks we're odd?"

Odd, dark, evil, easily manipulated...How foolish…

"Perhaps in a way, you are odd."

Tom was quick to protest, "We're not mad."

"Hogwarts is not a place for mad people, son. Hogwarts is a school – a school of magic." Alex caught the shift in Tom's expression, no matter how subtle. He was interested. "You can both do things, can't you? Things other children can't do,"

"I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who are mean to me and my sister. I can make them hurt, if I want to." Tom elaborated and glanced at Alex, who met his stare before directing her attention to Dumbledore.

Don't let him think you already know too much.

"I can move things too. I can make them explode, if I'm angry enough." she explained, "Who are you?"

"I'm like you and Tom, Alex." said Dumbledore, and added in a lower tone, "I'm different."

"Prove it," Tom demanded.

Without warning, their wardrobe caught on fire. It stood there, shaking as it was engulfed in bright blue and purple flames, but didn't burn to ash. A flame-freezing charm, maybe? Alex speculated at she stared at the fire.

"I think there is something trying to get out of your wardrobe."

Alex frowned as she listened, and sure enough, a faint rattling could be heard from the inside. For the first time, Tom looked frightened. He faltered, then crossed the room and threw open the wardrobe door. On the topmost shelf, above a rail of threadbare clothes, a small metal box was shaking and rattling as though there were several frantic mice trapped inside it. Tom took it out of the wardrobe, before spilling its contents onto the bed. It contained a mess of small, everyday objects: a yo-yo, a silver thimble, and a tarnished mouth organ among them.

"Thievery is not tolerated at Hogwarts, son." Tom looked up at Dumbledore, and then peered at his sister. Much to his relief, she didn't look the least bit abashed by the box's contents. She merely stared at him with a glint of amusement, like she knew what he had been keeping.

"At Hogwarts," Dumbledore went on, "we teach you not only to use magic, but to control it. Do you understand?"

Much later, Dumbledore had given them their letters, a pouch full of money for their school supplies, and directions to Diagon Alley as either twin refused to let him accompany them. Alex was relieved, thankful even, when Dumbledore left at last. When she was sure that the old man was gone – apparated, most likely – she immediately turned to Tom.

"Why did you do it?" she asked him.

"They being mean to me, Alex. I didn't – "

A small smile flitted upon her pinkish lips, "I'm not mad. I was only asking why you did it."

Tom blinked, "Oh,"

"I don't trust him, you know." Alex declared after a moment's silence.

"Who?"

"Dumbledore – I don't trust him."

Tom chuckled, "I know. I don't either. Why did you think I didn't tell him that we could talk to snakes?"

I hope you guys enjoyed this. Please review and tell me what you think!

~Cassandra