Changing The Dark Lord (Tom Riddle)

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Transfiguration had always been my favourite subject. From my very first lesson on the subject I had found it so fascinating. I didn't know whether it was because the subject itself interested me, or because the teacher, Professor Dumbledore, made the subject so interesting. Either way the lessons seemed to fly by and today's lesson had almost come to a close already.

"These," Professor Dumbledore said as he walked around the room, setting some parchment in front of each student as he went, "Are the essays that were handed in last lesson."

He made his way through each student one by one until he approached our desk. Placing Mary's essay in front of her he gave her a gentle smile, "This was a fascinating essay Miss Prewett, and you took an approach many wouldn't take."

"Thank you," she said cautiously, pulling her essay towards her - it was a well-known fact that Transfiguration was her worst subject.

Dumbledore turned to me next and handed me my essay, "This was a wonderfully in depth approach to the subject matter. But what else would I expect from one of my most capable students?"

"Thank you professor." He gave us another smile before walking to the next desk.

I looked down at my essay and at the grade scrawled across the top of it. O. The work I had put in had been worth it. Mary leaned over my shoulder and let out a sigh.

"How in Merlin's name do you do it?" She wondered aloud.

"I don't leave all of my essays until the very last minute, Mary," I said nudging her teasingly with my shoulder.

"Or I just don't understand Transfiguration." She shook her head slightly and glanced back down at her essay. "Fascinating he said and yet he still gave me an A."

I glanced over her shoulder and read the first paragraph of her essay. "That's only because you deviated from the question Molly. Half of your essay doesn't answer the question."

"I swear," she muttered under her breath, "From now on I'm going to do every single one of the essays with you to see if I've been answering them wrong or if he has a blatant favouritism for you."

"Dumbledore's a kind professor, he doesn't have favourites."

She waved her hand dismissively in response as Dumbledore returned to the front of the classroom. He said a few parting words and then we were dismissed from the lesson. We rose from our seats, packing up as we went and headed for the door. With a quick goodbye to Dumbledore we stepped into the corridor.

Looping her arm through mine, Mary led us towards the great hall for lunch. We headed over towards the Gryffindor table and headed straight for our normal seats. Mary stopped walking suddenly, her face a picture of confusion. I couldn't help but laugh at her facial expression.

Mary had an exact spot on the table that she had to sit in because she claimed that from that one spot she had a vantage of everything that happened. I didn't bother to ask how she would see everything that happened behind her. People quickly learnt that no one, without exception, was allowed to sit in her space. Straightening up, Mary narrowed her eyes on the persons sat in her seat. Poor Potter had no idea what was going to hit him.

She stalked over towards him and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned to look at her, she let out a tirade of words that he struggled to keep up with. But once she had finished talking, the two of them started to argue. I rolled my eyes; when these two got started, there would be no stopping them.

Eventually, as he always did, Potter relented and moved further down the bench. Mary reclaimed her spot and motioned for me to sit down beside her.

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