The orphanage had never been much of a home to me. There was always someone there to make my life miserable. I guess they sensed that I was... different, even before I did.

I'd been in the orphanage since I was 7, after my parents... died. Not long after I arrived, I met my first bully: Billy Stubbs.

I was just sitting on a windowsill, reading a book most children my age wouldn't have even remotely understood, minding my own business, when my book was knocked from my hands and sent skidding acrossed the floor. I frowned and looked up to see a boy about my age with long brown hair. He was smirking, obviously expecting me to be scared of him. Instead, I simply lifted my little black kitten from my lap, strolled over to where my book lay, and, taking my pet and book with me, sat on the next windowsill and continued my reading.

I felt the book vibrate in my hands as the boy hit it again. Thankful it was hardcover, I just gripped it tighter to prevent it from slipping out of my grasp. I raised my eyes and looked over my copy of Hamlet to see the boy glaring at me. "Do you even know who I am?" he growled. I shrugged, looking back to my book. "Nope. I don't. Maybe a proper introduction would help." I said, feigning politeness. "Billy Stubbs, that's who." the boy replied, obviously irritated. "And it'd do you good to learn to fear that name." I scoffed slightly. "Rose MacDonnell. And it'd do you good to back away before things get nasty." I replied simply, continuing to read Pelonius's advice to his son. The book vibrated yet again and I looked up. "Do you have a problem with Shakespeare, Stubbs?" I asked, getting a little irritated. "No, but I do have a problem with cats." he replied, snatching my kitten off of my lap and pulling his arm back to hurl him down the hall before I could do anything.

But when Stubbs's arm flew forward... there was nothing in his hand.

I had tossed down my book and was about to pounce on Stubbs, when I saw my kitten fly from Stubbs's hand and into the arms of another boy, also my age. with short black hair. My eyes widened as I watched my precious pet fly backwards to this other boy. Stubbs looked, bewildered, at his hand for a few moments, then whipped around furiously, searching for the intruder. He glared at the other boy, who looked back with an emotionless expression.

"Whatayou think you're doin', Riddle?" Stubbs growled. The new boy glared at Stubbs briefly before handing me back my kitten, who mewled pathetically and curled up against my chest. Riddle's face, though surprisingly handsome, was cold and emotionless. "Thanks." I said, giving him a warm smile. He simply stared at me for a moment, then turned back to Billy Stubbs, who had fixed Riddle with a glare so intense, it was as though he was attempting to burn a smoldering hole in Riddles head.

"I asked you a question, freak." Stubbs growled. "I'm not a freak." Riddle replied, his voice indicating that this was an everyday thing. "Suuure you're not." Stubbs jeered, smirking. "Always locked in your room, never talking to anyone." Riddle glared at Stubbs, a malicious glint in his eye. "Why would I want to associate myself with the likes of you?" he growled, his voice raising ever so slightly, his face showing his disgust at the mere idea. "The likes of me?" Stubbs spat. "At least I know who my parents were!"

This was obviously a raw topic for Riddle. He balled up his fists and his face reddened with rage. "How dare you!" he cried angrily, rising to his full height. I realized this was no temper tantrum, typical for a 7 year old. This was different, a more... well... if it weren't anger, I'd call it more sophisticated. More of something that you might expect from an older boy. Like a teenager. I had an ominous feeling that there was going to be a fight. A real fight, not a childrens fight. But, as there was no means of escape that didn't involve going past one or both boys in close proximity, I was forced to push myself farther back on my windowsill and hope I was not caught in the cross fire.

"Tom! Billy!" I heard a lady's voice. Mrs. Cole. I let out the breath I'd been holding. If anyone could stop a fight, it was Mrs. Cole. I watched as she rushed over to us, a pretty lady, even if she was kind of old.

The boy called Tom continued to glare at Stubbs, his fists clenched and teeth gritted. "Both of you, to your rooms. Now." Mrs. Cole ordered irritably. Tom glared at Stubbs for another second before obeying Mrs. Cole, stalking off. Stubbs followed. Then Mrs. Cole turned to me. "I'm awfully sorry, dear." she said kindly. "You'll have to forgive them. 7 year old boys. What can you expect?" I wasn't looking at her. I was watching Tom Riddle walk away.