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Set In Stone	By : ANONYMONSTER Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 2875 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series or its characters, and I do not make money off of these stories.

Chapter List
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CHAPTER ONE

Broken Promise, Shattered Heart

On a cold rainy night in August, Mrs. Cole stood in the old, large doorway of the orphanage, staring down at the little girl with thick auburn curls of hair cascading down her back and over her shoulders. The girl's sharp green eyes were brimming over with tears, and she was soaked from head to toe. A cold breeze blew harshly at Mrs. Cole, and she could scarcely imagine how the little girl must have felt. It was well after midnight, and Mrs. Cole had been about to turn in when she'd heard the three small taps. At first, the woman had passed it off as her tired mind playing tricks on her. It was the soft, trembling voice of a frightened child that had pushed Mrs. Cole to open the door.

"P-please, ma'am . . . I need a place to stay."

Now, Mrs. Cole ushered the sobbing, wet child out of the rain and into the hallway.

"What's your name, dear?" Mrs. Cole asked the girl as she closed the front door of the orphanage.

"Willow." The shivering girl murmured, rubbing her arms. "W-Willow Mae Hart."

"Well, Willow . . ." Mrs. Cole took a thick blanket from the hall closet and wrapped it around Willow's trembling shoulders. "If I were as cold as you must be, I would want a cup of hot cocoa. Does that sound nice?"

Willow smiled shyly and nodded, wiping her eyes with the corner of the blanket, and Mrs. Cole gave the trembling girl a reassuring smile before leading her into the main room and then heading to the kitchen.

Willow sighed deeply. She was in. Now all that she had to do was convince the old woman that she was just another regular orphan. Though I suppose I am not much younger than she is, Willow thought, shrugging the blanket off of her shoulders and roaming around the large room, leaving a trail of wet, muddy footprints behind her. The room was lit by numerous candles, placed out of the reach of children. The walls were, by candlelight, a rich, golden brown, but willow was certain that without the mask of the firelight, they would be as dull as the furniture. What little of it there was, anyways. The floors were made of wood, and very old, scuffed and worn from the years of children running about.

Willow turned as she heard footsteps, much too light to belong to Mrs. Cole. A chill ran up her spine, and she whipped around to see – nothing. A flicker of annoyance crossed her face, and she took a few steps forward, calling out, "I know you're here".

The candles flickered out one by one, and Willow felt small, cold fingers wrap around her throat.

"You're not welcome here." an emotionless, young male voice whispered from behind her. Willow closed her eyes, her annoyance growing. Who did this kid think he was? "Leave." the voice continued.

A fierce growl erupted from Willow's throat as a wall of magical energy knocked her young attacker off of his feet and into the wall. The candle flames rekindled all at once, and Willow glared at the dark haired boy, trapping him against the wall with her magical force. Her glare shifted slowly to a look of curiosity and amusement as the boy smiled, and she released her hold.

"I knew you were like me." The boy said, standing up straight and giving Willow a large, dangerous grin. "I felt it."

Like him? Willow thought. Is he a wizard?

"The name's Tom. Everyone here is afraid of me. But you don't seem to be . . . I like that." Tom held out a hand and Willow gave him a questioning look.

"Willow." She said, grasping his hand. A small shock shot through her arm as their hands connected, their magic combining. Willow quickly pulled her hand away and gave the boy an apologetic smile. "That's never happened before."

"Tom Riddle! What are you doing out of bed?" An angry Mrs. Cole stormed into the room, nearly dropping the tray of hot cocoa.

Tom just grinned and winked at Willow. "Don't believe her nice act for a second. The old bat's a real witch."

Willow couldn't help but laugh at Tom's words. If only he knew . . .

"Go now, to your room!" Mrs. Cole placed the tray on an old oak table in the centre of the room and hurried over to Tom, nudging him toward the staircase. "No more of this sneaking about at night, or I'll have a locksmith put a lock on your door!" she called after him.

If what he said is true, and he is like me, a lock will do nothing, Willow thought, following Tom with her eyes. What a curious little boy.

"I've had my helper, Martha, prepare a room for you," Mrs. Cole told Willow as she walked back into the room and lowered herself onto an old sofa. "But before you can go up to bed, I'll have to ask you a few questions . . ."

One month later, either late at night or very early morning, Willow sat up in her bed, staring at the faded pictures of her parents that she kept in a small, silver locket in the shape of a circle. Both of her parents were long gone. Her mother had died giving birth to her, and her father had been trampled by a herd of Centaurs ten years ago. Willow was all alone, stuck in the body of an eight year old child. She was actually twenty-six years old. Willow, like her mother, did not age the same as wizards or muggles.

Willow's mother, Glinda, was a Gaela. Full Gaela only age one year for every ten years of their lives. Willow, being half wizard and half Gaela, aged a single year for every three years. While her mind grew at a regular rate, her body grew very slowly, which meant that Willow was always on the run, moving from orphanage to orphanage until the day that she physically turned eleven, and she could go to Hogwarts. Her father had told her so many stories of Hogwarts, and she could hardly wait to go there, to be accepted. No more running, just magic. Blissful magic.

Ageing slowly wasn't the Gaela's only ability. As a Gaela, Willow could also see glimpses of the future. She wasn't as good with the sight as her mother had been, but she was sufficient enough to keep herself alive, which was a daily task. Along with their extra-long lives, Gaela had extra bad luck. They rarely made it past two hundred. Just long enough for them to have a child and keep the line going. Her mother's superior skills had kept her alive for three hundred and thirty seven years, the longest a Gaela had ever been known to survive. She could have lived longer, too, but she chose to risk her life giving birth to Willow. I wish I could have known you. Father said you were the most amazing woman he'd ever met.

Willow's gaze shot up from the locket as her bedroom door opened. She quickly tucked the locket into the thin white nightgown that Martha had set out for her, and grabbed a small, hand carved, wooden rabbit from her night stand, preparing to chuck it at the intruder.

"Calm down, Will. It's only me. And put that bloody rabbit down, will you? You really hurt me last time."

"Well, you scared me." Willow giggled as Tom poked his head into the room. Tom closed the door and moved over to the bed, sitting down next to Willow. They had become rather inseparable in Willow's first month at the orphanage. Willow had told Tom that he was a wizard, and she was a witch. He'd thought she was daft at first, but he came around after she sent him flying down the hallway for insulting her. She may have been twenty six, but she had never taken well to insults, and she had a rather short temper.

"I wish we could go to Hogwarts now . . . Get away from this place, from Mrs. Cole." Tom sighed, playing with a lock of Willow's long hair. "You've seen the way she looks at us, like we're not normal. One day... On day I'll change that. We'll be the normal ones, and they'll just be filthy muggle scum."

"Tom!" Willow punched his arm lightly, frowning. "What have they done to make you hate them?"

"Well, they certainly haven't done anything to make me like them, have they?" Tom grumbled, taking the wooden rabbit from willow's hands and staring at it. "Muggles are so useless. With small dreams, and small lives. They can carve rabbits with tools, but with the wave of a wand, a wizard could turn this dumb thing into a real rabbit."

"Hey! I like that 'dumb thing'!" Willow shot, snatching the rabbit back.

Tom rolled his eyes at her and lay down on his back, staring at the ceiling and running his eyes along all of the cracks in the paint. "One day I'm going to rule the world as the most powerful wizard of all time . . . and you can be my bride."

Willow laughed, smacking Tom with her pillow. "Be serious, Tom!"

She had no idea just how serious he was.

"Dumbledore came to see me today." Tom said as they sat by the old cave, one year later.

"I know."

"You saw?" Tom turned to Willow with a glare. "Why did you not tell me?"

"I only saw him coming. I didn't know of his intentions." Willow snapped, glaring back at the boy.

"As if the beard and robe didn't give it away! You just wanted me to suffer, you git!"

Willow shoved Tom off of the rock and into the water, yelping as he pulled her in after him. "I wanted it to be a surprise." She said, wading through the water. "Besides, my visions have been odd lately." Willow pulled herself back up onto the flat rock and watched as Tom followed after her, his long, wet hair plastered to his face.

"How?" he asked, shaking the water out of his hair, making some of it stand on end.

"Well . . . this cave, for instance." Willow turned to the entrance of the cave, trying to peer through the shadows. After a moment, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I saw thousands and thousands of dead bodies lying at the bottom of a lake concealed inside that cave." The images flew past her eyes again. "Imperi. I remember my father telling me about them." Willow opened her eyes and turned to face Tom. "They're meant to guard something."

Tom was silent for a moment, before he turned to study the cave. "D'you want to go and see if you dream was true?"

"Are you mad? I said dead bodies, Tom! Dead moving bodies!" Willow shuddered.

"I'm not the airhead who dreams of dead people."

"How would you like to be dead?" Willow knocked Tom off of the rock again with an angry wave of magic. "You'd be wise not to make fun of me, Tom Riddle. I'm different. Different than muggles, different than you . . ."

"Would you two quit arse-ing about?" Martha called out to them. "It's time to go back."

"Yeah, Tom. Quit arse-ing about." Willow said, as if Tom had been the one who'd knocked her into the water, and she giggled as he splashed her. She hopped into the water and waded back to shore, the two of them splashing and pulling at each other the whole way.

"Promise me something?" Tom asked as the stepped onto shore, squeezing the water out of his jumper. He looked up at Willow, his dark eyes staring into her vibrant greens.

Willow ran her tongue over her lips- which were blue from the cold- before nodding slowly.

"Promise me you'll still be here when I come back in the summer."

Willow stopped walking and looked away, kicking at the dirt with her wet shoes.

"Will?" Tom persisted. "Promise me, Will."

"It's complicated..."

"What's so complicated? Just don't let any families come and take you. You've done it for two years already. I'm sure you can do it for another year. I need you there."

"It's not as simple as that, Tom." Willow had told Tom about her visions already, but she hadn't told him about how she aged differently than others. She never imagined they would become this close, that he would ask her to stay. Now is as good a time as any to tell him. "I'm different. They're starting to notice that I don't-"

"Hurry up, freaks!" Billy Stubbs shouted as he ran past.

Willow kicked sand in Billy's direction before she began to walk again. Tom caught up with her, taking her hand and pulling her to a stop, lacing her fingers with his. Willow's heart raced at the sudden show of affection from the orphan boy.

"Will... You're the one person I've ever cared about... please, Willow." Tom took her other hand as well, and then squeezed them both in unison. "Promise me."

Willow sighed in defeat, pulling Tom into a bone-crushing hug. "You win, Riddle. I promise."

The two magical orphans giggled and ran, hand in hand, back towards the rest of the group.

Tom was due back in a week, and Willow was so excited that she couldn't sleep. She avidly remembered what Tom had said the day he'd left.

"Don't worry. I'll be back before you know it. I'll tell you all about Hogwarts. The classes, the teachers. I'll even show you my wand. In a few years, you'll even be there with me. We can rule the school together. We'll be the coolest witch and wizard there, I swear it! And then we'll be together forever!"

When Tom came back, Willow would have to tell him that they would never attend Hogwarts together. Wizarding law forbid her from going to Hogwarts until she was entirely of age. Her body couldn't control the magic properly otherwise, and it was a recipe for disaster. Sneaking out of her room, Willow made her way quietly down the stairs, pausing when she heard voices. Peering over the old, shaky banister, Willow saw Mrs. Cole and her helper, Martha. She was about to sneak back up to bed when she heard her name.

"I'm concerned about Willow." Mrs. Cole told Martha as she replaced old flowers with new ones in the vase, placing it back on the antique table that sat in the hall.

"Why are you concerned? Sure, she'd a little odd, but..."

"She's been here almost two years, and it's as if she hasn't aged a single day. Her hair hasn't even grown an inch. That's just not natural for girls her age... I think she may have some disorder that hasn't been discovered yet... We have to help her."

Shit... Willow dug her tiny nails into the banister. I don't know if I can stay here another week... She's too suspicious...

"Maybe we should call a doctor?"

If doctors find out about me... I'll be their test subject. Willow grimaced, mentally apologizing to Tom for breaking her promise. She moved swiftly and quietly back up to her room and packed the few belongings she had. Her locket, the clothes she came with, and a hair ribbon that Tom had given her. Tying her thick, heavy auburn curls up in the ribbon, Willow opened the small window in her room and climbed up onto her nightstand.

As she hoisted herself out of the window, Willow caught a glimpse of the small wooden rabbit, and snatched it up before she let herself drop, using the little magic she had, and could control, to soften her fall.

"Willow?"

Willow ran behind a bush as she saw the light in her room turn on, hearing Mrs. Cole's voice drifting out from the open window.

"Martha! Martha! Willow has gone missing!"

Oh, bloody hell... Willow ran as the front door of the orphanage opened, lifting her tiny frame over one small fence, and climbing under another. By the time she thought she was far enough from the orphanage, her nightgown was torn and muddy, and half of her hair had fallen out of the ribbon. She looked around as she caught her breath, taking in the sight of the old houses and gas-lit street lamps.

The visions hit her, swift and violent. Suddenly, she was back at the orphanage, standing in her room. Tom burst in, looking happier than she'd ever seen him. Like he'd finally found the place where he belonged. Where they could both belong. His hair was shorter, his face was fuller, and his smile was brilliant.

"Willow, it was so amazing! You-"

"Tom..." Willow and Mrs. Cole said at the same time. Only Willow wouldn't be heard. She wasn't actually there. She was only able to wait and watch as the scene played out. "Willow is gone." Mrs. Cole continued, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"N-no.” Tom shook his head before letting out a nervous laugh. “She’s just hiding. Come out, come out, Willow!” Tom looked scoured the room. He looked under her bed, in her closet, behind the door. It wasn’t until he had checked every inch of the room that he looked back up at Mrs. Cole, who placed a wary hand on his shoulder. “No. NO! She PROMISED!" Tom's voice began to rise, filled with menace. Willow even thought she could see a tear falling from his pale cheek.

Oh, Tom... I had to leave. Please, don't hate me...

Tom ran into his own room, which looked exactly like Willow's, and slammed the door, screaming in anger and disbelief. "I HATE HER!" He growled, throwing his book bag across the room, its contents spilling out, a few scraps of loose parchment flying up at the force, and then floating slowly back down. An ink bottle had broken, and now the dark substance spread over the old floor, likely staining it for good. "I HATE EVERYONE!" Tom continued, kicking the cabinet in his room. The whole room began to shake as his anger escalated, old toys falling from the shelves of the cabinet to the floor, the window rattling loosely in its frame.

The vision changed without warning. Tom was older now. He looked to be around fifteen, and had become even more handsome than Willow had thought he would be. He was approaching an old house, opening the door, walking up the stairs. He entered a room with a man who looked exactly like Tom, and two older muggles.

He'll find his father! That's great-

Willow's heart stopped as she saw the bright, green light flash three times, striking each of the muggles exactly once. She watched as they all fell limply to the floor, killed by their own blood.

A killing curse? But that's-

Again, the vision shifted, showing a much older Tom placing a locket into a bowl on top of a small island surrounded by a dark lake. Willow had seen this place many times before in her visions, but had never understood what it had meant. She could have prevented it from happening. But now the future was already set in motion.

That's enough! Willow's mind raged. She opened her eyes to see that she had collapsed on the ground. She was shaking all over, and when she tried to stand again, she immediately fell back down and burst into tears.

"I did this to him!" She gasped, magical energy beginning to build up around her. "I did this!" She yelled, pounding the ground with her tiny fist. Each time she hit the ground, a street lamp burst, spilling gas-stained glass everywhere. Because of her, Tom would become a monster. A murderous, heartless monster. Slowly, Willow began to compose herself. Once she had calmed, she stood up and wiped her eyes, turning to go back to the orphanage. She had to be there when Tom got there. She couldn't let him turn into that beast of a man she'd seen.

"If you go back, you'll die."

Willow froze, looking around, trying to spot a body from the dark. "Who's there?" Willow asked, fear clear in her voice. She didn't want Tom to end up like she now knew he would, but she didn't want to die either. What would happen to Tom if she died? Would he become even worse? Would he seek revenge? "Who are you!?" She asked when she'd received no answer from the shadows.

"Someone like you."

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please, keep on reading!
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Set In Stone