The Potter Twins Series

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟘:

        Dumbledore sits at his desk, alone, deep lines of his face illuminated by the shimmering pensieve. Two objects of note are in front of him, one is a black stoned ring, the other... Tom Riddle's diary. He briefly balances the ring upon the tip of an ashen finger, then turns a page of the battered diary. His face looked... troubled. A knock sounds, he takes the ring and diary, putting them inside a drawer. The door swings open, revealing Lilac. "Good evening, Lilac. You got my messages, I see. Come, come. Sit." Dumbledore spoke. Lilac step forward, sitting down. "So. How are you?" He questioned. "Fine, sir." Lilac spoke with a small smile. "Enjoying your classes? Professor Slughorn, for one, is impressed with you." Dumbledore spoke. Lilac shook her head, "I think he overestimates me and thinks I am Harry.." Lilac told him. "Do you? Overestimate yourself?" He asked her.

"Definitely." She spoke.

Dumbledore smiles affectionately, nodding, "And what of your activities outside the classroom? Do they bring you satisfaction?" He questioned. "Sir?" She asked. "I notice you spend a great deal of time with Mister Malfoy. One can't help but wonder if-" Dumbledore spoke. Lilac choked on her laugh, "I'm dating him.. Yes. He acts totally different from the outside." She spoke with a smile. Dumbledore nods, "In any event, I'm sure you're wondering why I've summoned you here tonight. The answer lies here." Dumbledore said. Dumbledore swings open a cabinet where dozens of glittering vials stand like tiny gems. "What you see before you are memories. In this case pertaining to one individual... Voldemort. Or as he was known then. Tom Riddle." He spoke, reaching down with his damaged hand and removes a stoppered vial.

"This vial contains a most particular memory, of the day I first met him. I'd like you to see it. If you would..." He told her. Dumbledore extends his ashen hand and Lilac stands up, she takes the vial. She removes the cork, tipping the contents into the Pensieve. Dumbledore nods for her to continue, Lilac leans into the iridescent liquid.

A horse drawn milk cart rattles across the London streets. A young Dumbledore appears in a plum velvet suit. He walks down the street, eyeing a lovely lass appreciatively. Dumbledore reaches a grim building surrounded by iron gates, he passes through. Wool's Orphanage, was the building's name. A skinny sharp-featured woman, Mrs. Cole leads Dumbledore down a drab corridor. Children's voices carry from an unseen courtyard, splashing and shrieking in the midst of some game they were playing. "I must confess to a bit of confusion upon receiving your letter, Mr. Dumbledore. In all the years Tom's been here, he's never once had a family visitor. Frankly, I was stunned to find that someone knew of his existence." Mrs. Cole spoke. "I am not family. But his name has been known to me since birth." Dumbledore told her.

"I see..." Mrs. Cole hummed before stopping, frowning.

"I think I should tell you. He's a funny boy, Tom. Odd. There have been incidents with the other children. Nasty things." Mrs. Cole told Dumbledore. "Perhaps you could give me an example." He said. Mrs. Cole starts to speak, then shakes her head before moving on. As Dumbledore makes to follow, his eyes happen upon a framed photograph on the wall, old and yellowing, depicting a seaside scene. As he exits, they are outside of Tom Riddle's room. Mrs. Cole's hand appears, she knocks on the door before turning the knob. A small room, grim and shadowy. There sat a 11 year old boy sitting on top of the bed, hands in lap. "You've got a visitor, Tom." Mrs. Cole spoke. Dumbledore steps forward, extending his hand towards Tom. "How do you do, Tom." He spoke, Tom eyes Dumbledore briefly before looking away. "Well, I'll leave you two to yourselves." Mrs. Cole spoke before exiting the room, closing the door.

Dumbledore studies Riddle, then begins to tour the room. Carefully placed upon a low shelf are some old souvenirs. Seven stones, a book containing seven matches, seven brass keys. Dumbledore passes a tall cabinet, tracing his fingers over its surface. Then Dumbledore pauses, strewn on a small table are a grouping of seven dark drawings. A boy and a girl, their faces anguished. A sea swept cave, the same cave from the photograph. Dumbledore reaches for it, "Don't." Tom scolded, Dumbledore stops, seeing Tom looking at him.

"As you wish." Dumbledore spoke.

Tom looks away, Dumbledore notices his hands. They are splayed, utterly still, and interlaced with silky web, where a spider knits back and forth. "You're the doctor, aren't you?" Tom questioned. "No. I am a Professor." Dumbledore replied. "I don't believe you. I hear Mrs. Cole talking, her and the rest of the staff. They want me looked at. They think I'm different." Tom spoke, his hands in his lap.

"Perhaps they're right." Dumbledore told him.

"I'm not mad." Tom spoke.

"Hogwarts is not a place for mad people." Dumbledore told him.

Tom looks up, cocking his head ever so slightly. "It's a school. A school of magic." Dumbledore told him, Tom stays looking, but says nothing. "You can do things, can't you, Tom? Things the other children can't." Dumbledore told him, Tom eyes Dumbledore intensely. "Yes." Tom replied shortly. "Tell me some of the things you can do, Tom." Dumbledore told her. Tom watching the spider, "I can make things move... without touching them. I can make animals do what I want without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who are mean to me. I can make them hurt... if I want." Tom explained. Dumbledore studies Riddle before Tom looks up, "Who are you?" He questioned.

"I'm like you, Tom. Different." Dumbledore told him, Tom closes his hands and the web collapses. "Prove it. It is not a request." The boy demanded Dumbledore. Without breaking his gaze, Dumbledore's eyes narrow ever so slightly before the wardrobe bursts into flames. Riddle wheels, slowly smiling. Dumbledore studies him, suddenly the wardrobe begins to shake. Riddle's smile fades. "I think there is something trying to get out of your wardrobe, Tom. Open it. Open. It." Dumbledore said. Terrified, Tom steps to the burning wardrobe and throw open the door. On the top shelf above a rail of threadbare clothes, a small box shakes violently. "Take it out." Dumbledore spoke. As Tom's fingers touch the box, the flames engulfing the wardrobe vanish, but the box continues to shake. "Is there anything in that box you ought not to have?" Dumbledore questioned him. Tom eyes Dumbledore, a trifle fearfully this time. He spills the box onto the bed, a yo-yo, a silver thimble, and a tarnished mouth organ. "Why did you want these things, Tom?" Dumbledore asked him. Tom looks away, "I like having things that belong to other people. It makes me feel... close to them." He replies. Dumbledore once again studies Tom, pondering this. "Thievery is not tolerated at Hogwarts. At Hogwarts, you will be taught not only how to use magic, but to control it. Understood?" He spoke, Tom nods to his statement before Dumbledore continued, "I'll be going now, Tom. Leave your window open tonight. An owl will bring you a message. Read it carefully." Dumbledore starts to leave before pausing. "I can speak to snakes too." Tom added on before realizing Dumbledore is listening, "They find me. Whisper things. Is that normal... For someone like me?" Tom questioned. "It is unusual. But not unheard of." Dumbledore spoke before exiting, without glancing back, leaving an 11 year old Tom Riddle alone.

The setting shudders and disappears. "Did you know, sir? Then?" She questioned. "Did I know that I had just met the most dangerous Dark wizard of all time? No. Had I..." Dumbledore said before faltering, his expression troubled. Lilac looks up from the Pensieve, where she sees Tom Riddle's fragmented face on the surface. "Over time, while here at Hogwarts, Tom Riddle grew close to one particular teacher. Can you guess which teacher that might be?" Dumbledore spoke. Lilac took note of how many sevens there would be and why Slughorn out of all the teachers... why him? "You didn't bring Professor Slughorn back simply to teach Potions, did you, sir?" Lilac questioned. "No. I did not. You see... Professor Slughorn possesses something I desire very dearly. And he will not part with it easily. I'd rather not divulge any more just yet, Lilac. But I promise. In time you will know everything." Dumbledore explains towards her.

Lilac nods shortly, "I need you to allow Professor Slughorn to collect you." Dumbledore explains.

"I understand..." She spoke.