Chapter 11 : Hero
Dozens of grey, ashen faces gazed at the Great Lake. The first ones were starting to turn away, some even crying. Minutes had gone by since the silvery surface had last made so much as a little ripple, and hope was vanishing quickly. It was a sunny and mild day in May, but it looked as if no sunray was able to touch the water, a dark mist hanging over it.
Prefects had panicked, first years were quivering. The Deputy Headmistress had her hands clasped over her mouth, all blood drained from her face. Next to her, the Head of Slytherin house, Zoroaster Zabini, wore a pinched and tense expression. Suddenly a movement went through the students and Albus Dumbledore arrived.
His auburn mane uncombed and his eyes flashing, he called out to Professor O’Hare. “What has happened?”
“T-there was a kind of sea serpent “ but it wasn’t! It was an illusion, made out of water,” she hastily explained. “It grabbed two girls by the shore, and another student who tried to fight it. We can’t enchant the lake, we couldn’t know what would happen!” Being a charms teacher, this was the first she thought of. Zabini, an Astronomy teacher, was no help either. But Dumbledore simply frowned, then stared at the lake. She could see his form changing, his skin became covered in silvery fish scales “ when suddenly the tranquil surface of the water broke and a huge serpent made of water emerged.
It was taller than a building and had long winding curls of green water, and its awful head was crowned by watery horns. A tiny human being was riding its back, half engulfed by the water, and obviously doing magic. Crackling flashes of blue hit the beast, and it roared like a hurricane. Frightened, the students backed away from the lake.
“Merlin!” Zabini yelled. “He’s trying to fight it!”
“Who is that?” O’Hare asked, squinting at the tiny figure high up in the air. Through the spilling rain of water she could see that it were actually three little figures, one clutching the other two.
“Riddle,” Dumbledore answered calmly. Then he aimed his wand at the water beast. But in that moment, a shiver went through the serpent and suddenly its coils froze to green-blue ice. A mighty groan went through the ice and it instantly broke in a thousand tiny shards that dashed back into the lake. Almost in front of the three teachers, the students it had caught fell into the lake. One of them got up quickly again, gasping and spitting water, and dragged the two others back to the shore.
It was Tom Riddle, third year Slytherin, orphan, extraordinary student. His black hair was plastered wetly to his head, and his clothes were completely drenched in water. The two girls in his arms were unconscious, small first years. Dumbledore hurried towards him and tried to help him with the girls, but Riddle ignored him, struggling to the shore, and collapsing there. In that moment, the whole lake rose behind them as if to swallow him. Dumbledore whirled around, a hot wind rising from the land behind him, making his robes flutter menacingly.
“Exhortia!” he roared at the lake, and with a long howl, like a wounded beast, it deflated and at last went silent again. Sudden silence settled over them, into which a bird timidly started to sing. Still, everyone was shell-shocked by the giant serpent, by the daring fight of the student, but also by the scary display of power from their transfiguration teacher. It was hard to tell which had impressed them the most. Finally the sun was touching the lake once more, carefully reclaiming her territory. Dumbledore turned around and smiled at them.
“Quick, let’s get them to the Hospital wing,” he advised. They nodded, and the Charms and Astronomy teacher each gathered a girl up, but Dumbledore tried to help Tom Riddle. The boy shook his hand away, proudly trying to stand on his own. But he was swaying and stumbling, and Dumbledore more often had to help him than not.
“Dumbledore, that spell you used “ wasn’t that the spell to banish a demon?” Professor Zabini asked. He was a very tall, broad-shouldered man with long straight dark hair. His attitude was regal, and sometimes blatant preference of Slytherins was really straining their patience, but generally he was a reasonable man, and a positive example of Slytherin house.
“A good guess,” answered Dumbledore with a wink and a grin. “But what would interest me far more is the spell Mr Riddle used against the demon?” Tom, a grim set on his weary face, didn’t reply.
“It was very brave of you to try and save the girls, Tom, ” Professor O’Hare gently told him. “But you should have called a teacher or a prefect. You are only in your third year!”
“Well, I did manage it, didn’t I?” he asked defiantly.
“And quite a feat it was,” Dumbledore nodded. “So why won’t you tell us what you did? I never saw a fight like that until today.”
“I was near those two,” Tom gestured at the unconscious girls, “when the lake suddenly changed, and the serpent emerged from it and attacked them. I tried to talk to it ““. He suddenly fell silent. Dumbledore raised a brow.
“But of course one can’t talk to serpents,” Tom added nervously.
“Of course not.”
“So I tried to accio the girls, but instead I was sucked into the lake with them. There I fought with the serpent. I tried to get it under my control, and then, when we rose out of the lake again, I used a freezing charm.”
“Wonderful! Such a huge and animate object!” his charms Professor cried in delight. They reached the Hospital wing and gave the two girls to the fussing nurse. Tom was urged to sit on a bed as well and take of his clothes, but he refused to do so, staring at them. He had grown a lot during the last year, and was quickly losing his shy childhood demeanour.
In a moment when Zabini and O’Hare were looking after the girls, Dumbledore looked sternly at the boy. “The spell you used to control the demon serpent was Imperius, am I right? That is an unforgivable. How did you learn it?”
“I didn’t. I only read about it. And it didn’t work anyway. So it was a demon?”
“Oh, I think it worked quite nicely for a first time.”
“If you say so.” Tom struggled to remain indifferent. For a Slytherin he had remarkably few self-control, Dumbledore noticed.
“It is hard to control a demon. Harder than any being or beast, harder even than a ghost. One needs a ... a certain attitude, you might say.” Tom shrugged, but a flush of pride appeared on his cheeks.
“It can’t be that difficult. You banished it with a simple spell, Professor.” Dumbledore was baffled for a moment. Nobody ever treated him as if he were an ordinary wizard. His magic was extraordinary and everybody knew that. This boy had just possessed the arrogance to compare himself with Dumbledore without even so much as noticing it.
“Alright, Mr Riddle,” he said curtly and left the infirmary. Tom waited shivering for the other teachers to leave, then he took of his dripping clothes and dried his body with soft towels. That Dumbledore was an awfully arrogant man, a real Gryffindor, nosy and self-absorbed. And Tom was almost sure that the wizard had been trying to invade his mind, he had felt the tiny prying fingers clawing at the walls of his self almost physically. He hated to be seen through. But at least Dumbledore had been so fixed on the Imperius’ he had used that he hadn’t even asked about the origin of the demon.
Lost in his angry thoughts, he didn’t notice the nurse approaching. She was a plain faced, motherly witch, with red hair puffy around her face.
“Here, take that pepper-up potion “ oh dear, what is that?” Tom winced and wrapped the towel around his back.
“Nothing, Madam.” But she removed the towel with more resolution and strength than he had expected. She took in his back and his upper arms. Not-so-old traces of his fights in the orphanage marred his pale skin. The scars were a writing she was apt in reading.
“Nonsense. How did you get these?” Tom tried to push her away, but he was only thirteen, and she was a stout woman of forty.
“Now! Will you stop that? I’m only trying to help you, stupid boy.” Her features softened. “You needn’t tell me. Someone has been beating you up, right?”
Tom sat rigid in her grip, but his left hand wandered to where his wand lay on the bed. Her stern blue eyes were fixed on his expression, though, and that was one of cold fury. She pursed her lips.
“I can help you, but only if you talk to me. So, who’s done this? Your dorm mates? Your parents? A teacher?” His fingers found the wet handle of his wand and wrapped around it. Slowly he drew it to himself. She sighed.
“You’re probably ashamed, right?” His face twisted in sudden hatred.
“Obliviate!” he hissed, and his hand lashed out at her, his wand touching her neck. The woman stumbled backwards with a startled cry, then collapsed on the stone floor. He quickly wrapped his still wet robes around him, and dragged her heavy body behind a parapet. She would wake again and probably think she had fainted. He sweated and panted and cursed his weak physical body. He had just hid her, congratulating himself on the successful memory charm, when a crowd of students broke into the infirmary, lead by Alphard Black, a fellow Slytherin who was constantly at Tom’s heels since their first year.
“Tom Riddle!” he shouted, a huge grin on his face. He had forgotten all about Slytherin composure. “You’re the hero of the day! Zabini awarded you a hundred points!”
He grabbed Tom’s shoulder and dragged him away, the cheering, chattering crowd around them. Everyone seemed to feel the sudden need to touch him and shake his hands and clap his shoulders and shout things at him. Alphard even had his arm wrapped around his shoulder.
“Tell us how you fought the thing!” The other students followed his example, firing questions at him. Behind them, the infirmary doors fell shut, and Tom quickly forgot about the obnoxious nurse, the memory spell and Dumbledore. What remained was a growing exhilaration, carrying him on waves of pride.
“Well,” he began his tale, smiling at the expectant faces. “I ...”.