Note: The date of this chapter is taken from CoS, chapter 13. It's Tom's fifth year, but he is already sixteen. One of the things he says in this chapter is a direct quote from Harry. Can you spot it?
This chapter was betaed by rambkowalczyk, who has an amazing fund of canon knowledge!
Thanks for your lovely reviews, as always.
Chapter Seventeen : Rage
June the 13th , 1943
Golden lights softly streaked their faces, and green shadows from the fresh leaves above touched them like the reflections of butterflies. Their feet on the grass made no sound. A breeze played with Tom’s dark hair, made it dance like raven feathers. His eyes, painted by life, had a green hue among the blossoming nature. He was shining and frail at the same time, vibrant with fresh excitement and power. He was entirely human.
Tom and Alphard had been talking about the death of the Gryffindor girl, which was the reason they would all be sent home early. She had not been the first victim of the mysterious beast that roamed Hogwarts, but the first to be killed. Tom had just revealed to Alphard that he knew who the killer was.
“Because I’m the Heir of Slytherin,” Tom said, his voice triumphant and impatient at the same time.
“Are you, now?” Alphard mused quietly. “It kind of makes sense. You’re the perfect Slytherin. And you’re having more secrets than usual this year; don’t think I didn’t notice that.”
A lot had been up this year. Tom had invented an alias for himself and those closest to him now called him ‘Lord Voldemort’. ‘I am Lord Voldemort’ was an anagram cleverly made out of his full name. He had also founded a secret society within Hogwarts, consisting mostly of Slytherins. They called themselves ‘Knights of Walpurgis’ and shared a like for the Dark Arts and a certain disappointment with the wizarding society. Alphard was, of course, a founding member of the Knights. And yet he hadn’t known that Tom was the Heir of Slytherin.
“So, did you?” He asked as an afterthought.
“Did I what?” Tom asked irritably. He was blind to the breathtaking beauty of the early summer morning, seeing only his own drama. They were walking under the blossoming trees by the Great Lake.
“Kill her,” Black answered evenly. “Everyone says that the Heir of Slytherin attacked the petrified Mudbloods. So did you go and find the Chamber and unleash the beast? What kind of beast is it?”
Tom nodded, shrugging. “Yes, I did. That’s not the point, though. You see, it really makes no sense for me to leave school, because I’m not in danger. I am the danger.”
Tom angrily kicked at the soil and grass under the willow trees where they were walking by the lake. The school would be closed and the teachers would try to catch the beast which had killed the Muggleborns, while the students would start their holidays early. And so would Tom, but unlike everyone else he wasn’t happy about that at all. This was the last summer holiday he had to spend in the orphanage. Next summer he would be seventeen and no longer an underage wizard. He had hoped to stay at Hogwarts instead of having to return to the orphanage. But now that was unlikely, even though he had sent Headmaster Dippet a request to stay just the day before.
“Well, kill the beast, present it to Dippet, et voila: you stay at Hogwarts. Easy, eh?” Alphard suggested.
“No, I can’t do that. There would be too many questions, such as: how did I find the basilisk, who is the Heir... and Dumbledore is already suspicious.”
Tom frowned unhappily. Of all the teachers, the Transfigurations Master was the only one who didn’t like him, and the dislike was mutual. Ever since his third year, when he had conjured the water demon, the man had eyed him with suspicion. The demon had been an experiment with the Dark Arts gone wrong, an accident, just like the dead girl. Dumbledore was also much more dangerous than Dippet and he would know to ask the right questions about the basilisk.
“Frame somebody else. They’ll believe you. Aren’t you everybody’s darling, Tommy?” Alphard asked lightly in a teasing manner. “For example that moronic half-giant you’ve been tutoring, what’s-his-name, the Gryffindor? He’s crazy about all kinds of monsters, everybody knows it.”
Tom grimaced. “Rubeus? Who would be so stupid to believe he was the Heir of Slytherin?”
Rubeus Hagrid, a Gryffindor third-year, was one of the worst students Hogwarts had ever seen. It wasn’t as if he didn’t really try hard, but those who said that giants weren’t meant for school were probably right. He had barely passed his exams twice in a row, and Tom had taken the duty of tutoring him in most subjects. This wasn’t only out of benevolence, of course. Giants interested Tom, they would make a formidable ally for someone who wanted to strike fear upon the wizarding world. And it also was good for his image to help the boy. Alphard was right, Rubeus was known for loving dangerous creatures. And Tom knew just the right way to frame him, a little secret he shared with Hagrid. Up until now he hadn’t told anyone about the Acromantula, Rubeus was hatching in the dungeons, for it might prove to be a nice way to blackmail him some day. Now that the day was here, Tom was concerned that it would be an insult to the line of Slytherin to call Hagrid the Heir.
“Dippet would believe it,” Alphard pressed.
Tom was still not convinced. Yes, Dippet was a weak-minded fool who would blame anybody presented to him just to show that he was still in control of the school. But it was a risky game. Dumbledore wouldn’t be the only one to find it unlikely.
“Not yet,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll talk to Dippet today; maybe I needn’t do anything at all...”
++++
And with that, Tom left for the castle, probably to polish his looks before he met Dippet. Alphard’s eyes followed him steadily up the hill.
Tom wouldn’t succeed. Dippet would not allow him to stay unless the murderer was found, Alphard was sure about that. So he had to frame the blundering halfblood, and knowing Tom, he had to make it look real. All because he was so damn desperate not to go back to that orphanage. If Alphard had been in his place, he would probably have done the same. Framing another student was no problem neither for Tom nor for Alphard. Like many Slytherins, he saw life as one big competition, where you were meant to fight with all means possible, an all or nothing game. To stay at Hogwarts, he gave up his quest to destroy all Mudbloods. If he was willing to do that just to stay in school over summer, how terrible must the place be where he had to return to?
It really was a shame, Alphard thought, that they let one of their brothers, a fellow wizard, live in such a low and miserable place. They cared for all those Mudbloods, giving them a place in Hogwarts “ why couldn’t they provide a home for Tom?
“Your revenge will be sweet, some day,” he prophesied, while he slowly walked after the boy he would have liked to call his friend.
That evening, Tom visited Dippet. He didn’t return from the office, and a few hours later, the whole school was suddenly alive and bustling with excitement. A terrible beast had escaped from the Dungeons to the Forbidden Forest, but before it did so, it almost scared a group of Ravenclaw sixth years to death. And Rubeus Hagrid, the half-giant, had been arrested. It was said that he was responsible for that girl’s death...
+++
Barely a day later, on June the 14th, Hagrid was expelled from school. He was an underage wizard, so he couldn’t be put into prison, but his wand was broken in two, which equalled a life-sentence of living as a Squib. Since the boy didn’t have parents anymore, (his mother had run away years before and his father was dead) the Hogwarts gamekeeper, a man named Ogg, took him in. Dippet was glad to have his credibility restored, and normality returned to the school.
Dumbledore was standing behind Dippet when Tom entered the office once more that morning. He was to be awarded a Medal for Magical Merit and a trophy would be presented at the end of the year banquet.
The Transfigurations teacher didn’t say a word to him, but after a shared look with the headmaster, he left the office. As he passed by his student, distrust was evident in his eyes.
Tom was sure that now Dippet would do just about anything for him. But he soon discovered that there was a price to awards he had received. He was never to say anything to anyone about what happened. Obviously Dippet didn’t want to let it known to the wizarding world that a sixteen year old student had done what he the headmaster and faculty couldn’t. Tom didn’t care about that as long as he got to stay for the summer. But Dumbledore’s presence earlier concerned him. What had the teacher told Dippet?
“Well, Mr Riddle, we are really sorry, you must understand, but I think it is too early yet for you to stay at Hogwarts, and so ““
“But the school is safe now!” Tom protested, trying to keep his anger and despair in check. Dippet smiled benignly at him.
“Do not be so impatient, Mr Riddle. You’ll see, the summer holiday will be over quickly, and next term we can talk about staying here again.” He was talking cheerfully to him, as if to a little child. Dumbledore was behind that. Whatever Dumbledore had told Dippet, it had convinced the old wizard not to let him stay over the summer.
Tom ground his teeth together, clutching the Medal until it hurt. He could plead. He could beg. He could have told them how the orphanage was. But the Heir of Slytherin would not condescend to that.
“Good night, Headmaster,” he forced himself to say and turning on his heel he left them, closing the door behind him, running down the stairs, opening the next door to where the gargoyle sat, and slamming it shut. His whole body was trembling with fury.
“NO!” he yelled and threw the medal for magical merit away with such a force that it smashed a tinted glass window some twenty feet down the corridor. Shards of colourful glass fell onto the carpet.
“IT CAN’T BE!”
+++++
Alphard had been waiting for Tom in the corridor where the gargoyle stood. The Slytherins were prepared to celebrate their hero and Alphard was going to fetch him. It was common consent among the Slytherins that Hagrid was not the Heir of Slytherin and that the beast he raised had not come from the Chamber of Secrets. And so they were completely on the side of Tom, who had once more made sure that Slytherin won the House Cup.
But the way Tom stormed out of the office and smashed the window by throwing the medal into it, made it clear that there would be no celebration tonight. Alphard picked up the medal that lay under the thin coloured shards, wiping the golden surface clean. He looked questioningly at Tom, who was panting with fury. His face was colourless except for red stains on his cheeks.
“I’LL KILL HIM! I won’t go back to that place!”
“Tom!” Alphard hissed with wide eyes. “Dippet will hear you. Why do you want to kill him, anyway? I thought the plan succeeded?”
“Not Dippet! Bloody Dumbledore!” Riddle balled a fist and hit a wall, only to bruise the skin on his knuckles.
“Dumbledore?” Alphard looked up and down the corridor. Their Transfigurations professor often appeared in the most unexpected of places.
“I HATE HIM! I’LL KILL HIM!” Tom was white as chalk, and his eyes were blazing. He didn’t look as if this were an empty threat. He was dead serious about planning to kill Dumbledore.
“You cannot kill Dumbledore,” the other Slytherin reasoned. “He’s way too clever and powerful! And they’d be after you in a minute and what then? You’d only get yourself killed! Cold-blooded revenge will be much more ““
“He cannot defeat me! I’m the Heir of Slytherin! And what is he? A Muggle loving imbecile!”
“A powerful Muggle loving imbecile, though.”
“Nobody is more powerful than me! You haven’t even seen the slightest bit of what I can do!” Tom spat. But he was too fixated on his hate for Dumbledore to spare any of his anger for Alphard.
“I’m sure I haven’t,” Alphard conceded. “But you’re only human, too. You aren’t infallible, Tom. That’s not something to be-”
“Then I don’t want to be human!” Tom hissed, every word coming out painfully. He raised his chin up high like a defiant child, biting onto his trembling lower lip.
His frenzy had turned into a focused rage. His rage was much more dangerous now. For the first time since he knew him, Alphard saw Tom with different eyes. For the first time, he was genuinely scared. He realised that all of Tom’s dreams of greatness weren’t just dreams. They had the potential to become true. And that prospect was glorious and frightening at once.
He wasn’t sure whether it was the excitement of the situation, or really a short glimpse of what was to come, but before his inner eye there flashed a couple of darker images, hints of a great but terrible future. Alphard’s favourite subject was Divination. He liked the subtle study of dreams, the patient gaze into a hazy crystal ball. But as of yet he had never seen anything that hit him so acutely, like a punch in the stomach. The world flickered black and white before his eyes. There was a taste of copper in his mouth. It was as if he had seen his own death. He reeled, grabbing the stone wall for support, while Tom balled his fists and walked down the dim corridor, raving to himself.
“I don’t want to be Tom Riddle anymore! Tom Riddle is pathetic! You all are pathetic! I shall be Lord Voldemort, through and through!”