Tom Marvolo Riddle was panting hard. Spinning around to see if the Slytherins were still following him, he thought abruptly that he needed a place to hide.

"Tom!" a sneering voice called, and twelve-year-old Tom took off running once again. They all hated him because he didn't know if he was a pure-blood or a half-blood, and they all called him a Mudblood either way because he lived at an orphanage. His damn mother had given him up for adoption.

He'd heard the story enough times from Mrs. Cole, so he didn’t need to hear it from them again.

Tom wasn't sure where he was, what floor he was on. It was the end of Christmas vacation, of his first year, and there was barely anyone in the school. There were no classes running. Yet he had to stay at school because he had nowhere else to go.

"Where did you go, Tom?" the voice called again. Tom's shoes squeaked on the ground as he took off running again. He desperately needed a place where they wouldn’t find him.

“Tom!�

He leaned against a wall, breathing hard. I need a place to hide. I need a place to hide. It wasn’t like Dippet or Dumbledore would notice anyway.

And then it appeared.

There was a door directly across the hall from him. Tom was sure it hadn’t been there before, and he was sure he’d never seen it. Had anyone?

Slowly, he crossed the hall and turned the handle of the door, trying his best to ignore the crooning calls of the other Slytherins. “Tom…Tom!�

Inside he knew that he would be able to hide. There were stacks upon stacks of old books and bottles of firewhiskey and old hats that someone had thrown away. The room seemed to go on for miles.

“Tom…oh Tom! Where did you go?�

He held his breath for a second, and nearly scrambled into the nearest pile. There was a pause and a click of heels, and then, silence. The door stayed shut. The heels clicked on.

“Don’t worry, Tom! We’ll find you!�

Why hadn’t they seen the door? Wouldn’t they have looked? Tom sat quietly for a second. Maybe only he could see the door. He supposed that was it. He could do many things that no one else could do. He was special, even in comparison to the other wizards. That was part of why they hated him. So maybe another talent he had was the ability to enter this room. Perhaps not even Dumbledore knew about it.

“Hello?� Tom called softly. An echo returned to him. There was utter silence throughout the room. Where was he? He took a tentative step forward into the dusty room. “Hello?�

He finally came to the conclusion that there was no one else in the room, and sighing with relief because he knew that they wouldn’t get him, he sat down quickly on a small stack of books, sending a puff of dust running up.

What was possible to be done here? What could he find in this superbly magical room? Tom somehow knew that no one else would love this room the way he suddenly did. It was full of luster and mystery, and he sought to explore it.

He stood again and began to walk slowly forward. Here was a cabinet, which he opened. Inside there was an old small statue of a warlock.

Tom thought suddenly that he could stay here whenever he needed to be safe. He could store his things in this cabinet. He took the warlock gingerly and stood it on top of the cabinet.

And then he took to wondering why they hated him so much. He took to wondering if he really needed this safety, or if he was able to protect himself by becoming someone’s friend. Tom had stayed a loner for so long that he didn’t know what it was like to have a friend.

Maybe he didn’t even need to have a friend. He just needed an ally. There was surely someone there who didn’t hate him like they did. He could show them the room, or maybe show them something else he had discovered. Tom could even become one of them, perhaps.

Or could he? Would they accept him? Had he ever tried to make them, or had he just hidden from them, thinking that they were more powerful? He thought that once, even six months ago, Tom had thought that no one was more powerful than him. Why had that changed?

He wasn’t sure why he was thinking of this now, in the center of this Room, more magical than anything had ever seen, but he was glad he was. Slowly, Tom withdrew a diary from the pocket of his robes and placed it in the centre of the open cabinet, closing the doors behind him. He had never written in the diary, but he had kept it with him, thinking that one day he might. Now he was moving on from that, keeping it in this room. Maybe someday he would use it for something more important.

He stepped out of the room and back into the cool sunlight of Hogwarts Castle. Back into reality. He didn’t hear their voices for a second, but he almost wanted to. Tom headed back to the Slytherin common room, said the password tentatively, and entered through the stone wall.

He looked around slowly to see a boy sitting by the fire. Tom thought he was a first year, at least, he hoped.

“Hello,� Tom said stiffly to the boy. He looked up.

“Tom, right?� the boy said, not unwelcoming. “I’m Avery. Lucas Avery.�

Tom nodded, and forced himself to smile. “I’m glad it’s Christmas, aren’t you?�

So even though Tom Riddle never really had a friend, it was the Room of Requirement that gave him what he needed. Soon, he would acquire a sort of cult following. Soon, every one in the school would know his name. Soon, he would be one of them.

Soon, everyone in the world would know his name.