For the Greater Good || Tom Riddle ||

Chapter Four: Eight of Cups

SPRING 1945 – THE UNITED KINGDOM

"Tom, my boy, you're simply too young at eighteen. While I have no doubt that you are magically and academically qualified for this position, I worry of your teaching experience. And I simply cannot bare what the faculty will think of me if I were to hire such a young lad straight out of school for the spot of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The world is ahead of you. I invite you to reapply in a few years if you still wish to teach."

Armando Dippet stroked his long grey beard before clearing his throat awkwardly and pushing the stack of application papers back toward their owner. He hated turning down the young man, but it would truly be for the best. Perhaps he could find some entry level position in the Ministry and work his way up. It was unfortunate that he was born of such low rank, being an orphan raised in the muggle world, but the older man was sure the Head Boy would be able to prove his worthiness through his brilliance and charisma.

What Armando Dippet didn't know was that Tom Riddle had no interest in an entry level position at the Ministry for Magic. Tom could have had a shot at the Ministry with his qualifications and Slughorn's contacts, but his first choice was Hogwarts. It would take years before he was allowed access to any useful information in the Ministry pipelines.

Hogwarts was a stronghold of ancient magic Tom Riddle wanted to spend more time trying to expose. He wanted to penetrate its secrets, and the Defense Against the Dark Arts position would turn into a useful recruiting ground, a place where he might begin to build himself an army. He could carefully mentor students who showed potential and envelope them into his ranks. The school would be the perfect hub for his ambitious plans. After all, Tom was genuinely attached to Hogwarts. It was where he had been happiest; the first and only place he had felt at home.

Home.

Indeed, he didn't crave prestige. Tom's ambitions weren't to succeed in the system as it was. He didn't want a job at the Ministry, or any job where he was expected to be a rat in a maze, because the only option for him was to cultivate his powers and begin to put together an army to overthrow the current order.

He would change the world, and he would sacrifice anything to do it.

"Thank you for your consideration, Headmaster."

His dark brooding eyes were the antithesis of how he felt within. An entitled rage burned and coiled itself in the pit of his stomach, savage like a Hungarian Horntail, threatening to crawl up his throat and spew outward in a wave of toxic malediction if he happened to lose control of his temper. However, he had spent years mastering his façade. Instead of erupting, he merely smiled pleasantly and inclined his head—a delicate lock of deep chocolate falling perfectly into place on his forehead. He brushed it back with an effortless hand.

And with that, he bid the senile idiot adieu.

It had been two years since that day, and the rejection wasn't entirely useless. He managed to re-hide the diadem in the Room of Requirement and place further protective wards without anyone noticing.

Of course, it had been irritating when Orion Black called upon him and expressed shock that the genius of the generation, Tom Riddle, was working at the lowly Borgin and Burkes. Tom decided then that Orion Black would have a hurtful future in front of him, however delayed it might be. It was coming.

There were others too. Hogwarts staff who had admired him said what a waste it was, a brilliant young wizard like that, working in a shop. Slughorn sent him an owl more than once, saying that he could put in a good word at the ministry if Tom wanted him to.

He didn't.

While Tom Riddle had never lost his ambition, he quickly realized the benefits of flying under the radar. Unlike his time at Hogwarts, where he had been top of the class and awarded with several prestigious recognitions, Tom found that in the real world, it was actually better to stay quiet. To stay hidden.