Metanoia~ Tom Riddle

Chapter 4

The next few weeks were a bit of the same. Veruca started helping McGonagall around the classroom, as an educational assistant, and Madam Rosmerta had welcomed her to the Three Broomsticks. She had been going shopping, during the little free time she had, for clothes and shoes and even a little makeup, which was something she rarely used even now, all to aid her disguise in the 40s. She gathered many, newer more informational books, and put them in a box, shrinking it to travel safely and undetectably.

She read until late at night and explored the library top to bottom in the early morning. She worked at perfecting her non-verbal spells, wandless magic, and dueling skills, she got stronger and better every day. She was impressed with herself. Even though she knew she wasn't as experienced as Dumbledore, she didn't know that there was as much room for improvement as there was.

When she admitted this to Dumbledore one afternoon, he said; "There will always be room for improvement, Veruca. Whether it's as small as wand movement or as big as pronunciation, you can always do better."

At first, she frowned, she couldn't decide whether or not to be offended. But as she lay awake that night, she nodded to herself, finally understanding; perfection doesn't exist, but practice somehow helps you achieve it. It's an endless ladder but, as long as you keep climbing, you get better.

That is improvement.

***

One month and 18 days left before she would leave to the year 1942.

Dumbledore had written a letter to Headmaster Dippet as her 'father', who had been named Steven de Fouix. It went something like this;

Dear Armando Dippet,

My name is Steven de Fouix. I am sure you are wondering what my daughter, Veruca, is doing at the foot of your desk, arriving at a school she was not permitted to attend. It is rather simple, and I will gladly explain.

I lost my wife in a terrible accident at a school for magic, long closed by now. She was a teacher, she loved teaching and learning, believing they were one and the same. After the incident, I couldn't bear to lose my daughter the same way. I have homeschooled Veruca all her life and she has grown far more intelligent than I could have hoped. I feared there was nothing more I could teach her, and that may have been so, however, I have heard from many people at my place of work, that Hogwarts is the best school of magic to send one's child, by far.

I did a little research of my own, here at the ministry of France, and have found nothing to contradict that information. So, I ask, will you admit my daughter to your school? I hope you will accept. There is nothing further I can do for her. I am simply a father wanting the world for my child. I hope you can assist me in furthering her education. Properly.

Sincerely, Steven de Fouix

It was a good plan, with a good back story, almost everything was set. She would leave soon and, as always, she was prepared and confident.

"I think you should rest. I will send for you early in the morning, I have something important to show you."

Bidding the old wizard, a good night, she meandered through the corridors, stopping at every other window. The beauty of this incredible place would forever astound her, she was sure. She quickened her pace, down to the dungeons, and to the hidden entrance of the Slytherin common room.

She wondered what it would be like to sleep in the same room only at a different time. Or maybe she wouldn't even be in the same room, maybe she would be in her own room? Or just a different one altogether?

She'd have to suffer through meeting new people, a thought, one of the few, that truly tried her patience. She dressed in a nightgown for bed, glancing at the other two beds belonging to the roommates who she had plainly ignored every morning, she didn't even know their names. Tracy? Veronica, maybe?

No, Tariana, yes that was the one who constantly obsessed over what to wear every morning. The other girl was quiet, except for when she opened her mouth to complain about classes that she rarely paid attention to. Cassily. So, maybe she knew their names, after rooming with them for five and a half years it would be quite pathetic if she hadn't.

It was a quarter to ten when Veruca laid down. Her muscles were heavy, as they were every night now after working so hard all day. She felt her chest for the necklace she always wore. It was a silver chain woven tightly around an onyx stone. It was the only thing from her mother that she had, her father left it with her when he dropped her at the orphanage.

Her mother was a muggle. Her father, a pure-blood wizard, fell hard for her after meeting at a bank. She was the banker. Veruca rolled her eyes, thinking these thoughts made her feel disgusting. She didn't like that her father left her a letter containing the details of their 'forbidden' romance. She had no interest in their life, it just reminded her she was an orphaned, half-blood, which was something she used to hate.

As she grew up, though, she realized that she had gone about it all wrong. She was powerful without being pure blood. She was powerful without parents to raise her and friends to help her. She was powerful all by herself. She no longer needed anyone to care or notice or understand, she was everything she needed.

The tired girl let loose another sigh, closing her eyes. Darkness consumed her quickly. But the thoughts and worries didn't go so easily.