Chapter Fifteen: Bluff and Blame

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"Yeah, we'll call you [...] if we ever need someone mental."

_Ron, Prisoner of Azkaban_


Tom knocked on Dippet's door.

"Enter," came the headmaster's feeble voice. "Ah, Riddle."

"You wanted to see me, Professor Dippet?" 

Believe it or not, he was actually slightly nervous. If the headmaster uncovered his secret...


"Sit down," ordered Dippet. "I've just been reading the letter you sent me."

"Oh." Tom was relieved. 

No mention of the Chamber of Secrets. Not even Ginevra knew about that. He gripped his hands together very tightly.


"My dear boy," said Dippet kindly, "I cannot possibly let you stay at school over the summer. Surely you want to go home for the holidays?"

Tom replied at once. "No. I'd much rather stay at Hogwarts than go back to that_ to that_" 

He couldn't possibly say it was horrific because of the Muggles, and the headmaster was a Muggle-lover; luckily Dippet thought he was lost for words.


Unfortunately Dippet was curious. 

"You live in a Muggle orphanage during the holidays, I believe?"

"Yes, sir." He reddened slightly, as one does when humiliated so highly.

"You are Muggle-born?" 

That was the last straw.


"Half-blood, sir," Tom answered, beginning to get annoyed. 

His heritage was doubtful enough. If only he said, yes he was the Heir of Slytherin, from the house of Gaunt.

And Dippet was insensitive.

"And are both your parents_?" 


Curse him. Curse the lot of them. Let's relate some family history, then. 

"My mother died just after I was born, sir. They told me at the orphanage she lived just long enough to name me: Tom after my father, Marvolo after my grandfather."

Dippet clucked his tongue irritatingly, in a way he thought was sympathetic. 


"The thing is, Tom," he sighed in that weary way that made Tom want to strangle him, "special arrangements might have been made for you, but in the current circumstances..."

"You mean all these attacks, sir?" His heart pounding.


"Precisely." Dippet began explaining, although Tom already knew why. It was like being in kindergarten, except worse. "My dear boy, you must see how foolish it would be of me to allow you to remain at the castle when term ends. Particularly in the light of the recent tragedy... the death of that poor little girl... You will be safer by far at your orphanage. As a matter of fact, the Ministry of Magic is even now talking about closing the school. We are no nearer locating the – er – source of all this unpleasantness..." 


That fool knew it was a monster, and someone was controlling it. It wasn't rocket science, for goodness' sake! 

Tom knew his eyes had widened. 

"Sir – if the person was caught... If it all stopped..."


"What do you mean?" Dippet squeaked, sitting up. "Riddle, do you mean you know something about these attacks?"

"No, sir," he responded quickly.

Sinking back, looking faintly disappointed, Dippet said, "You may go, Tom..."


He encountered Dumbledore in his travels back.

"What are you doing, wandering around this late, Tom?"

"I had to see the Headmaster, sir," he replied, not entirely sure he had convinced the old man.


"Well, hurry off to bed." He gave Riddle his trademark penetrating stare. "Best not to roam the corridors these days. Not since..." He sighed heavily, bade Tom goodnight and strode off. Why did all elderly men sigh?

Tom, not in the least eager to go back to the trolls of his dormitory, followed Hagrid to the monster.



"C'mon... gotta get yeh outta here... c'mon now... in the box..." Tom heard Hagrid say to his pet and jumped suddenly round the corner. 

The huge boy was crouching in front of an open door, with a huge box next to it.

"Evening, Rubeus," he greeted sharply. 


It wasn't a habit of his to learn the names of insignificant third-years, but with Myrtle and Hagrid, he felt he should give it a go. Hagrid at once slammed the door shut and stood up. Tom was easily dwarfed.

"What yer doin' down here, Tom?"


Tom had many answers to that. One, he was a Prefect, so he had every right to patrol anywhere he wanted, at most times, although of late the Prefect patrolling was disbanded. Two, Hagrid should call him Riddle, as was proper.

"It's all over." Tom was enjoying the drama immensely. "I'm going to have to turn you in, Rubeus. They're talking about closing Hogwarts if the attacks don't stop." 

Maybe he was slightly selfish.


"What d'yeh_" 

There was no way Tom was letting Hagrid get a word in edgeways.

"I don't think you meant to kill anyone." Quite funny, as both of them knew that Hagrid was as much a murderer as a fluffy bunny, although he was known for his obsession with murderous beasts. Tom was seriously considering making a sequel to Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. How about 'Hagrid's Murderous Pets and How You Can Be Killed by Them'? "But monsters don't make good pets. I suppose you just let it out for exercise and_"


"It never killed no one!" Hagrid exclaimed. 

He was seriously unstable, it seemed.

"Come on, Rubeus." Tom moved closer. "The dead girl's parents will be here tomorrow. The least Hogwarts can do is make sure that the thing that killed their daughter is slaughtered..."


"It wasn' him!" Hagrid roared. Good, Tom thought. It will bring the teachers. "He wouldn'! He never!"

"Stand aside." Tom drew his wand. 

His spell lit the corridor with a sudden flaming light, making the door behind Hagrid fly open and also, coincidentally of course, sending Hagrid into the opposite wall.


Hagrid's beast sent him bowling over, even as he'd attempted to raise his wand; he scrambled to his feet, intent on following the thing down the corridor outside and raised his wand. Hagrid leapt on him before he could follow, however, and seized his wand, throwing him to the floor. The last thing Tom heard was Hagrid's pained yell.

"NOOOOOOO!"

*****

A.N. Surprise!!!!!!!!!!!! A cliffhanger!!!!!!!!

Thank you for reading and PLEASE KINDLY COMMENT!!!!!!!!

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