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“I’m Harry,” she finally offers when the silence in the cupboard feels like it’s going to overwhelm her. “Harry Potter.”
There’s a warm sense of satisfaction resting in her stomach, not her own, and Harry doesn’t know why Tom seems so smug. It’s wonderful to meet you, Harry he practically purrs, sounding like he’s whispering directly into her ear. Harry twitches, a small smile starting to grow on her face. “Are you going to help me, Tom?”
If you’ll let me. I’ll take very good care of you, Harry.
Tom Riddle starts talking to Harry when she’s six.