Riddle's Plea

The Big Day*

(Vienna, September 1st, 1943)

    It was quiet. I watched as the smoke from the Hogwarts Express got closer and closer. Soon my journey will begin, a pretty hopeless journey in my opinion. I closed my eyes, going over the past summer through my head. "It seems, The Dark Lord trusted you to do this Miss. Marcus. You must at least try." A very unladylike snort escaped me as I remember Professor Dumbledore's words. Uncrossing my arms from my chest, I rested my hands against the railing of the Astronomy Tower. It had always been one of my favorite places to be. The view and the silence had always been welcoming to me. I had come up here countless times during my previous time at Hogwarts, and it seems like I'd be doing it all again. 

     The weight of the entire world seems to have just rested on my shoulders. Is this how Harry felt for all those years? A flash of a raven-haired boy with circular spectacles and a lightning scar flashed through my head. Harry had always found me up here, thinking or reading. The conversation wasn't really necessary with Harry, we seemed to both understand the need for silence. I was the only one who seemed to relate to Harry the most with both of our parents being murdered by him. If there's anyone I want to try for, it's Harry and those who have lost so much due to that monster. Another flash of a tall redhead with a giant smile crossed through my mind, and I quickly shook his face out of my head. It wasn't time to grieve, it was time to act. The sun was setting now, causing an orange glow to fall upon Hogwarts grounds. I turned my attention back to the now stopped Hogwarts Express. They were here. He was here. 

    Pushing myself off the railing, I turned towards the steps of the Astronomy Tower and began a slow trek to the Great Hall. Professor Dumbledore and I had come up with a somewhat explanation of my not-so-graceful entrance into Hogwarts. My name is still Vienna Marcus, and thanks to the potion The Dark Lord fed me, I was no longer 20, but 16 years of age again. I had come from one of Hogwarts sister schools: Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ilvermorny was the great North American school of magic and stands at the highest peak of Mount Greylock in Massachusetts. Pretending to attend this school was a good excuse for my American accent, and thanks to the ongoing threat of Grindelwald, we came up with a plausible excuse for my bloody fall. On that fateful night, some of Grindelwald's American followers had attacked Ilvermorny and I was sent to Hogwarts by a Professor for safety. Genius. 

    Professor Dumbledore and I had also come up with a few rules. Rule number one: Pretend like I didn't know Albus Dumbledore. Easy enough it seems. Rule number two: Pretend like I don't know Tom Riddle. Not-so-easy, but hopefully manageable. Rule number three: Don't tell anybody my secret. Hopefully easy? Sighing to myself, I waited for the staircases to change and continued my journey down. 

    Hogwarts had always been like a home to me, a place where I fit in, a place that was warm and filled with light. Its architecture was like nothing else, and I remember first seeing the prestigious castle for the first time almost fifty years into the future. It's amazing how nothing had changed in all that time. The joy and happiness that had filled me when I was 11 at seeing the castle had dimmed considerably. I had seen this castle through a war. I had spent the first month in 1943 in the Hospital Wing, and the next two fighting my own mind. Everywhere I looked I had seen fire, and around every turn, there was a body lying on the ground. "Take time to grieve, but remember, you can change all of it." The words of the wise Professor crossed my mind again. He was right in a sense. I now had the power to change the future, for the better or for the worse. I could prevent many deaths, save the wizarding world, and put a stop to a merciless Dark Lord. So instead of grieving what had yet to happen, I pushed the images and the pain to the back of my mind. For another day. 

    The sound of many voices began to fill my ears, and I paused when I saw the giant doors of the Great Hall. You can do this. You survived through a war...kind of. You can walk through these doors. You're good at making friends. You can do this. With an unsteady breath, I smoothed down my new Hogwarts school robes, feeling slightly put off by the colors of Green and Silver instead of my normal Red and Gold. After Professor Dumbledore had fed our made up story to Headmaster Dippett, it was agreed that I would be sorted before the students returned. Madame Ducane had let slip that I was...well, crazy to say the least, and the Headmaster didn't want to put me through the stress. Being sorted a second time was odd to me though, and after searching through my brain, the Sorting Hat put me into Slytherin, sensing my need to be sorted into the house of the snake. Along with my new status as 'snake', I retook my O.W.L.'s receiving perfect scores, and after much deliberation, I was made school Prefect. I had thanked Merlin I still remembered all of the spells, potions, and lessons from my time. Professor Slughorn and head of my new house had been extremely impressed with my advanced skills and had suggested I put myself into advanced courses, which I did. 

    "What if she leads them here?!" Ah. It seems like that was my cue. The loud voice had interrupted my train of thought, and anger seeped into my veins. They were talking about me. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's being talked about behind my back. With brand new determination, I stomped up the great doors and pushed them open with a bang. Every head seemed to swivel towards me, and the anger that was there disappeared. Maybe this wasn't a great idea.