Tom waited. After the murder of Avery he had anticipated perhaps at least a day maximum until the Aurors had shown up, upon having felt the aurors appear not too long ago, he was glad to know that he had been right. In fact, it had only been about ten minutes, before he heard a troll of people wandering the house before they passed close enough to the little barred room that he was in at the moment. He, in accordance to his act, whimpered slightly, and pushed himself back. He had allowed himself to acquire a few bruises, and he imagined Draco had a few new ones from Lucius, when he came over the other day, he had heard the whimpers from the boy, and the muffled pleading voices.

Perhaps that had been somewhat cruel of him. To force Draco to once more face Lucius, but it had been part of a plan of his. It had worked, quite well in fact, considering not only had Draco found the courage to somewhat anger Lucius-although he had not needed much help outside of merely breathing in that department-but the visit had cemented Draco's desire to prove himself. Not only to Tom, but to his father as well. That he was strong and he could do this, and that his ability to manipulate was still on par. Tom had checked Draco over before he'd put him in the closet. The boy had acquired a good many bruises, and a few sprained bones, which he had healed, the rest, before he had managed it, Draco had requested to be left alone. He said it would help sell the act. Tom had to agree, bruising would help both Draco's part in the act, and Lucius's. Lucius playing the part of "Innocent, I didn't do anything" dad, even though they all knew he was far from it he would still manage quite well which would cause contention between Dumbledore and the ever so 'innocent' order that he toyed with, Tom playing the "Scared, compassionate child, and concerned friend" and Draco playing the "Abused, terrified, child".

With Draco's continuous help, and his past experiences, he was quite adapt of faking emotions, and raising the intensity on those he did already feel. It had not been a good process, but Tom had always been a good actor, and Draco had also given him some key notes that he would definitely be using in the future, more so than this one instance. He could do this.

A second later, not even moments after his small noise that he had allowed echo through the bath, the door opened, letting in a blinding bright light. Tom turned away from it, towards the wall, hiding his face, and hunching over, as if he were expecting more pain.

"Arthur! I found a child!" It was definitely Dumbledore's voice. Tom whined slightly at that. It was loud, he never liked loud couple that with Dumbledore's voice grating upon his ears made him want to claw them off. The old man was frustrating enough, having to feel his magical signiture again made Tom want to rend his head from his shoulders, but there would be time for that later. Not yet.

Dumbledore reached towards him and Tom turned towards him, eyes wide, trembling, and pupils blown, fearful. That was how he looked. He was channeling his fear of failure, and death, into his face. Dumbledore paused momentarily, Tom stared at him, still fear looking. It was useful, a the least, and he was grateful to Draco's notes, they were definitely of use in this. "Who..." Tom stopped and coughed slightly. Lack of water. Tom really did go all out on this. "Who are you?" He asked, mistrust mixed with fear.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore." Tom's brow furrowed, as if he were thinking. Not that he needed to. Wow, I really am good at this, I mean I always knew I was, but the ease that it is coming to me...oh it is almost wonderous. Tom licked his lips, as if uncertain. He looked up at Dumbledore curious expression on his face.

"The...The headmaster? Right? I think I have...I mean, Father talks about you sometimes, not often, but...You are a headmaster...right?" He asked, biting his lip and looking down when the man did not answer immediately. He seemed to be in thought.

"Yes, yes I am." Tom made to stand, but fell forward slightly, before catching himself on the wall, and suddenly throwing himself backwards, narrow eyed at Dumbledore.

"Where is my father?" He asked suddenly, injecting panic into his voice. It was not very hard to do.

"Your...father?" Albus asked carefully.

"Yes, my...my father. Does he, does he know you are here? Did he send you to take me to him? Because I won't go. I will not. You will have to make me, and even then I will make your life hell! I cannot go back to him. Please!" Tom quickened his breathing. Appearing panicked was much easier than he had thought beforehand.

"Hey, calm down, calm down." Tom visibly shook, trying to calm his shaking, taking deep breaths as well as attempting to reign in his anger at the stupid caring act that Dumbledore was playing. "Good, now, who was your father?" Tom looked at Dumbledore confused.

"John, John Avery. You are in his house." Dumbledore looked confused for a second.

"I am sorry to say this, but your father was dead."

"Dead?" Tom waited a moment. He took a deep breath. "Wh...What happened? Did they get to him finally?" He closed his eyes, before composing himself, and taking a deep breath. Dumbledore was obviously curious, but did not press him further. He could not, not with the other aurors around.

Dumbledore let him outside. He almost had Dumbledore, almost. He just needed the push. Dumbledore walked down the stairs with Tom in row, when Tom stopped abruptly. He stared at Dumbledore, ignoring the other Aurors in the house.

"Did you get him?" He asked, biting his lip. Arthur suddenly looked over.

"Who?" He asked sharply.

"Draco, the Malfoy boy. I heard them dragging him through the house. He was screaming and crying, and pleading. I-I tried to help him, but..." Tom took a deep breath. "Father found out, he...He got angry. I got locked in the..." Tom waved his hands over towards where they had left. "Since early this morning. He never came back, so I was worried something was wrong, he normally only leaves me there for a few hours."

"Who was they?" Arthur asked. Tom shook his head.

"I-I don't know. father and someone else. I heard father but the other voice was unfamiliar, at least, to me." Tom bit his lower lip. "I can take you to him? There is only one other place that he could be, because I was locked in the first floor, he would have to be in the basement room." He asked. "Do you...do you have a wand on you? I am afraid mine is locked in my father's study." Dumbledore just nodded, and he and Arthur followed Riddle downstairs towards the basement.

___

Draco, well, Draco was cold, and trembling. He was not expecting this. As Tom had predicted, he had began to beg to be let out several hours in. Tom had refused, and eventually silenced around the room leaving him alone in the cold, damp, and dark. He was hungry, that of course, he could deal with, it was the fear. He kept hearing footsteps above him. It terrified him. He didn't know if they were good or bad. Would he be whipped again? Draco had whimpered when he heard footsteps and voices coming closer. He whined, lowly in the back of his throat. He hated his weakness, but he was scared stiff. He scrambled back when he heard a whispered spell. he curled up in a ball, trembling and terrified, a jet of bright light flew across the small dark space. Draco turned his head towards the wall desperately, trying to keep away. he turned his head into the corner of the slab of stone, clawing at his bloodied arms, whimpering pathetically. He hated the closets, he hated the punishments, he hated it. Tears began to fall down his cheeks, despite his effort to pull them back. Tom, from behind Dumbledore, pushed he way forward gently, and grabbed Draco's shoulder. Draco freaked out and curled in on himself more, shaking his head, and giving hushed sobs, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "please no more, please no more". Tom looked back at Dumbledore in slight panic because, well, Draco had never become this hysterical with him. Tom took a deep breath, and gently, but firmly, pulled Draco from the wall, into a sitting position, and, than pulled him somewhat roughly to his feet, before allowing him to lean into his side for support. Tom helped Draco outside of the stupid closet and cold basement room, and up onto the main floor, where Draco promptly collapsed on the couch, narrowly making it to the couch cushion. Tom allowed Draco to collapse on him, sobbing into his shoulder. Tom must have miscalculated. The boy probably had several very bad flashbacks.

Tom maneuvored Draco so that his head was on his lap, pressed against his lower torso, and his hands clutching his back painfully, as he curled himself around Tom's body. He seemed desperate for something familiar, something calm and collected, something stable.

Tom allowed Draco to curl in on him, and merely slipped an arm around his waist, and play with his hair, dipping his hands down to his neck, ever so often wrapping his fingers on the nape, a simple possessive gesture that Tom had noticed helped Draco calm down from panic attacks. Tom gently soothed the boy, who eventually managed to calm himself somewhat, and fell unconscious, still clutching Tom desperately. Tom just shushed each whimper with a delicate brushing of his fingers through the boy's hair and around his neck once more.

Dumbledore watched the actions of this strange boy who looked so much like a young Tom Marvolo Riddle. He did not know the boy's name, but he acted so, different from Tom Riddle. He was so much more young looking, sincere. And his actions with Draco Malfoy, they were gentle, calm, concerned, and compassionate, sympathetic. Nothing that the young Tom Riddle had ever expressed. There was no possible way that this was Tom Riddle, not the original tom riddle. Perhaps his son, that would make incredible sense, of course. This boy, he was too, emotional. Dumbledore had watched him go from terrified, to distrustful, to nervous, to anxious, to fearful again, to worried, to confident, to entirely concerned, to gentle and a bit worried. Even if it was the original Tom Riddle, something must have changed him, especially if he thought that Aver Jr. Was his father.

"What is your name child?" Dumbledore asked, Tom glanced up at him, but Draco promptly let out a strangled cry and whimper. Dumbledore watched in fascination as the this stranger hugged the boy closer to him, for the sole purpose of offering comfort, or trying to anyway. Tom whispered something. "What was that?" Tom looked up at Dumbledore.

"I overheard my father talking to some man with a strange accent. The man asked after a "Tom Marvolo Riddle..." Dumbledore hissed in a breath. "At first I was confused. I didn't know who it was, but than the weirdo saw me, somehow. I don't know how, I wasn't even facing him. all of a sudden the man wasn't...he wasn't stuttering anymore. Like he had been. I think he was just faking it, or maybe it was a lapse or something. I don't know, but he...the weirdo guy, he told me that I was "Tom Marvolo Riddle" when I asked about him, and I was totally confused. As you know, Riddle and Avery are two different last names. Later on I asked father about it, but he simply said it was the name of a family friend, who I was birthed to, and that he'd died in a war, and that he that is Avery, agreed to take me in. It all seemed fishy to me, but, father didn't like it when questions were raised, he got sort of...angry at that one." Tom said with a sad smile, before looking down at the boy again.

"What happened to him?" Dumbledore asked. Tom shook his head.

"I-I just don't know. Last night, in early evening, I heard him screaming, a crying, and pleading with someone. He sounded like he was in so much pain, and I...I couldn't do anything. I" Tom took a deep breath eyes watering. "He was begging someone to 'stop' and that he understood, and that he would be good, and he'd learned his lesson, before the screams would start all over. It was horrible. I...I wanted to help him. Later on I healed him a bit, but I never finished with all the spells before father found me. He was livid. Threw me where you found me, after making me watch as he was thrown in to the cell. I...he looked so terrified. So, vulnerable. I-I wanted to just save him you know? Because it was obvious that he was being cruelly tortured for some reason. Information, probably. Or maybe it was a warning, I don't know, but I just felt so...so helpless. More than when I'm on the receiving end of Father's anger. I feel...responsible for him. Do you...do you understand?" He asked, a few tears had fallen down Tom's cheeks. Tom was in fact, an incredibly good actor.

Dumbledore thought of him and Severus and Harry, and he nodded. "Yes, yes, I do understand."