Good news: I'm alive again.
Bad news: I'm in an orphanage.
I cracked one eye open, staring at the cracked ceiling above my narrow bed. My body was small but graceful, a child's frame hiding the power coiled inside. Yet even at eleven, I was stunning. The deity had delivered on its promise. I had Elaine's beauty—silky hair, flawless skin, delicate features that made even the matron stare at me like I wasn't real. Hot and cute, all rolled into one. Practically a goddess stuck in a gray wool blanket.
More bad news: Tom Riddle was also here.
I could feel his presence even before I saw him. A coil of ambition, charm, and simmering rage wrapped inside a scrawny boy. My implanted memories had been clear—this was the Tom Riddle, the one destined to become Voldemort. The one who would carve his name into history with blood and fear. My lips curled slightly. If I played this right, he'd carve it alongside mine.
He stood across the room, pale and neat even in the dreary orphanage clothes, reading an old book by the window. His dark eyes flicked to me with quiet calculation, and I saw something pass across his face—interest, perhaps even curiosity.
Not the worst outcome. In fact, it could be an advantage.If Tom Riddle was my childhood friend, maybe I could steer him. Not toward "good"—that would be boring—but toward something more… usable. Chaotic neutral, ambitious but not obsessed with genocide. And if that failed? Well, two dark lords are better than one.
I stretched, feeling magic hum beneath my skin like a second heartbeat. Immortality sat like a crown on my soul, invisible but heavy. The knowledge of the future coiled in my head, but already I felt it slipping around the edges. I'd read enough time-travel stories to know: change the plot too much, and memory becomes unreliable. Fine. I wouldn't rely on it. I'd build my own future from scratch.
According to my implanted memories, I was a month away from turning eleven. Which meant the letter was coming soon—the letter that would change everything. Hogwarts. Magic on a scale I could finally touch. And most likely delivered by a young Albus Dumbledore.
I rolled onto my side, staring at my hands. They were small, childlike, but elegant even now. How far could I push this body? How quickly could I build my power? How many spells could I devour before graduation?
My heart twinged once at a thought: no phones, no internet, no modern technology. No glowing screens or quick answers. This world was magic-rich and tech-poor. But then again, magic was better than Wi-Fi. And I had centuries to invent my own toys if I wanted.
A faint sound made me glance up. Tom Riddle was watching me now, his expression unreadable, like a snake watching another predator.
For a moment, our eyes locked.
Two brilliant souls in a dreary orphanage. Two serpents waiting to hatch.
I smiled slowly."Hello, Tom."
He tilted his head slightly, curiosity flickering. "Hello…?"
"Elaine," I said, letting the name roll off my tongue with practiced grace. "Your new best friend."