Chapter Text
____________
The first time Albus Dumbledore saw the boy, he was beyond confused.
His eyes widened, eyebrows rising as he stood in the doorway of the tiny room, with a slightly tipsy Mrs. Cole on his side.
"
Oh
, yes, he's a
brillant
boy," she said, beaming, like he was Merlin's gift to the world. "All the little kids just
love
Tom Riddle! Extraordinary boy, he is. When he was a kid, he used to talk
all
kinds of nonsense about magic."
"Magic?" Albus asked, a little warily but with plenty of interest, studying the happenings in the room.
"Well, of course, I wouldn't want to sound like I'm
nutsy
," Mrs. Cole said, hiccuping. "But,
Christ
, the boy can turn water into wine! When the food stock finishes, he can produce more, out of nowhere. He talks to animals and the kids swear they talk back to him. And, well, look at them now - "
She pointed to the three little boys in the room.
"Tom,
again
!"
Albus tried processing all that information in a go. It was impossible. How could a little eleven year old boy do so much magic, and with
so
much control?
Besides, the
room
.
Albus could have done without seeing
that
.
The two other boys were looking at the boy who must be
Tom Riddle,
beseechingly, pointing to the bed they had just fallen off. Tom sighed, like he was tired of everything and then pointed an index finger at them.
Both the little boys instantly flew up onto the bed and jumped, using the bed like a catapult, shrieking delightedly as Tom wriggled his fingers.
"This is the
last
time, Dennis," he said, quite sternly for a boy who was only eleven. "
You
too, Billy."
"Alright, yeah, no problem!"
"Sure,
thank you
, Tom!"
Albus's left eye had developed a suspiciously constant, irritating twitch.
"Good evening, Tom," he said, not as gently as he would have liked, but then again,
what the fuck was up with the kid?
The boy jumped, clearly startled and turned around to the door. For a second, Albus thought he would politely smile, maybe look wary or -
Tom Riddle's face split into a wide,
canine
grin, making Albus blanch slightly, looking like he recognised him.
Which wasn't possible.
Shouldn't be.
Of course, none of this was
technically
possible, so that was neither here, nor there.
He shook himself, the boy was just a little unnerving. It wasn't
such
a big deal -
"Professor Dumbledore!" Tom exclaimed, striding closer and extending a hand, even as Albus felt like fleeing. "I've been waiting for you! Tom Marvolo Riddle,
Heir
of Slytherin. Its a
pleasure
to meet you!"
Albus blinked.
The left eye twitch increased tenfold.
Heir of what
- in the name of -
waiting?
He shook Tom's hand, who did the same, so vigorously that Albus felt his arm would
surely
get dislocated.
"I'm sorry, my boy, Heir of what?" Albus asked carefully, just to be sure that the boy had said it and that he wasn't just hallucinating this strange,
strange
encounter.
"Slytherin, sir," Tom Riddle said, proudly, and Albus wondered whether he had just had too much pixie mead, grabbing his wrist freely and pulling him inside the room.
He gestured to the two boys to get out, who did so, grumbling.
And then,
and then
, the boy wandlessly levitated a chair -
purposeful levitation!
- and set it for Dumbledore. "
Salazar
Slytherin. I'm the Heir of Slytherin, its a direct descendant line through the Gaunts."
Albus opened his mouth and closed it a few times.
Tom Riddle sat down on the bed, though that hardly made a difference, he was physically bouncing in excitement.
"
Well?
!" he asked, after a long moment, as if he couldn't wait anymore.
"Yes?" Albus asked, mildly, because he had also forgotten why he was here.
"My letter?" Tom said, still smiling and jumping up and down, his hair frazzled like he had been electrocuted. "My Hogwarts Letter? Can I get it, sir?"
He wordlessly took out the letter and handed it to the boy, staring at the crack on the floor with utmost concentration.
There was a sudden
tap, tap, tap
on the window and Albus slowly turned to it, dreading what else Tom Riddle, an
orphaned Muggleborn
, knew.
Tom Riddle ran to the window excitedly, opening it with extra enthusiasm and let the owl -
the owl?
- inside. It was a large Snowy owl, with a letter tied on her.
Albus Dumbledore seriously wondered how this had happened, and why he was
still
sitting here, when it was clear that this boy knew everything there was to know.
"I
knew
Abraxas would remember my birthday," the boy said, as an answer to nothing, smiling widely.
"Happy birthday, Tom," Albus said, faintly.
"Oh, thank you," he replied, reading through the letter. "Even Wally sent me something,
look
!"
Albus looked out of the window, as a sleek, black owl came flying in, and Tom put down his previous letter.
"I think she's already trying to court me," the eleven year old boy muttered, shaking his head, pulling open the gift.
Albus was crazy.
Tom shoved the package under his nose with unnecessary agression, "Look!
Isn't
that a courting gift?!"
Albus examined the gift with a weak sense of horror and fascination, a silver and green ring, nothing fancy, just a plain, pretty finger band that screamed slytherin.
"I'm afraid I have to say yes," he said, solemnly, resisting the urge to sob or laugh hysterically. "It does seem like a courting gift. Who, forgive me for asking, is
Wally
? And, if I may, how did you come across all of this, Tom?"
"Walburga Lucretia Black," the muggleborn orphaned kid replied casually, like he hadn't just baffled Albus with three words. "And Abraxas Malfoy. They're my best friends."
That last part was said rather defensively.
Albus didn't miss the evasion.
"That sounds, uh,
nice
," he said, lamely.
Tom nodded seriously.
"Is there anything else?" Tom said, his voice muffled into his pillow as he had suddenly, flopped down on his bed, face first, like a five year old, dramatic kid.
"You seem to be quite, erm,
updated
, as is, my dear boy," Albus said, trying to gain back some footing. "I honestly wouldn't know where to begin."
"Oh,
I
know," the boy said, suddenly, jumping up and looking at him excitedly. "I have a question, and I haven't asked anyone. Its kind of embarassing, actually. But I think I'll trust
you
. Can you answer it?"
Albus didn't know why or how the boy would trust him, when he hadn't gotten even five sentences across. Nevertheless, he smiled calmingly and nodded, "Of course, Tom."
Tom laughed giddily and then said,
"Abraxas and Wally and I, we spent our last weekend together in Diagon," he said, and Albus steadfastly ignored the curiosity rising in him.
"And Wally tried to kiss me. And she was right there, you see, like just near me, and I
might
have screamed. Just a
little
!" he added, hastily, "And when I screamed,
Ab
thought that he should help me. And so," he fidgeted a little.
"And so?" Albus prompted, already knowing and fearing where this was going.
"Sohekissedme," he said, in one breath.
"I'm sorry?"
Tom took a deep breath.
"Abraxas kissed me," he finished, determinedly avoiding Albus's eyes. "And later, we all laughed about it, but -
but
- "
"But now, you can't stop thinking about him?" Albus guessed, wisely, wondering when he had turned from a Hogwarts Professor here to introduce a muggleborn to magic, to Tom Riddle's
pseudo gay uncle.
"Yes!" he exclaimed, lying down again. "Exactly! What do you think I should
do?"
Albus smiled awkwardly the boy.
Well
.
_____________
The second time Dumbledore saw Tom Riddle, he was covered in lemon pie, blinking in shock at the white-yellow vision.
He wondered if the Gods were punishing him for something.
The sorting had gone down the same way as usual.
The Hat had screamed "
Slytherin!"
like Dumbledore had expected, what with the Heir claim and his choice of friends.
And then, Tom Riddle had stood up, on his chair, shouted,
"FOOD FIGHT!"
and chucked a plate right across the Hall, straight on Albus's face.
It hit its mark with a loud, wet
thwack
.
There was absolute silence for atleast thirty seconds, before Abraxas and Walburga had stood up, both sighing, like they were resigned to these random acts of clear
Tom Riddle insanity,
and half heartedly started chucking food everywhere.
A bowl of curry hit a Gryffindor, who yelped in suprise.
Minerva Mcgonagall screamed a distressingly scary war cry, as Fleamont Potter, Head boy, that year, stood up and threw a Treacle Tart right at Dippet, laughing.
Seven
years of Tom Riddle.
He would be lucky if he made it out
alive
.
____________
He wasn't going to make it out alive.
Minerva had come to Albus's office, right after Lunch, and dragged him along with her, "Look what this Slytherin kid's done now, professor, he's
completely
bonkers!"
Albus found himself swallowing nervously, and breaking in sweat.
Tom Riddle
Left Eye Twitch
was back.
She pulled him to the Great Hall, where the Bulletin Board was, usually, always empty, because nobody really looked at it, and pointed at it, waving her hands violently.
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS IS FINALLY OPEN FOR BUSINESS!!!
I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, Heir of Slytherin, have come to Hogwarts and thus, the Chamber Tour you have all been looking for - is now OPEN! (please forgive me, I know that's awfully loaded, so, unless you're Abraxas Malfoy, pretend you didn't understand anything.)
The tour timings for anybody who wishes to see it will be posted up on the House Boards in your respective Common Rooms by tomorrow. Also, if you have any doubts regarding whether or not the monster in the chamber is dangerous, I suggest you spend some time in a room with an angry Walburga. If you come out alive, the Chamber is more than safe for you!
Thank you! I look forward to seeing all of you curious students soon!
Was this even
legal?
Albus gaped at the sign for a long,
long
time as Minerva made impatient clucking noises to hurry him up.
He shook off his daze, starting to walk towards Dippet's office. He ignored the atrociously colorful signs on the walls, cursing the day he delivered Tom Riddle's letter.
Albus found Headmaster Dippet lounging in his balcony, drink in hand, hand hovering on the record playing Celestina Warbeck's,
"MY CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS A MONSTER IN IT!"
Jesus
fucking
Christ.
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