𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 | draco malfoy [6]

𝐕. YOUNG TOM RIDDLE

CHAPTER FIVE
YOUNG TOM RIDDLE

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It had only been a week of school when Harry walked into the library and told me that Dumbledore wanted to speak to us. I had been with Noah, since I couldn't find Draco, and the other Slytherins were also growing more distant.

"Uh-oh, what'd I do now?" I muttered as I grabbed my things and stood up.

"I'm sure you'll be fine," Noah reassured me. I gave him a small nod before I followed Harry out of the library.

"Do you know what this is for?" I asked him.

"Haven't a clue," He sighed, clearly as nervous as I.

We stepped into the the eagle staircase and stood quietly, sparing a glance at each other as the steps turned upward and opened up into Dumbledore's office. It was just as brilliantly cluttered as the first time I had seen it. I love it.

"Ah, Harry, Giovanna, come in," Dumbledore's airy voice called from his desk. We walked over and stood in front of him. "How are things? How has your first week been?"

"Fine, sir," Harry answered for us. 

"I hear you two are excelling at Potions."

"I believe Professor Slughorn overestimates Harry, sir," I smirked at my brother. 

"I believe she's right," Harry grinned back.

"And, Harry, how about Miss Granger? I notice you two spend a considering amount of time together..." Dumbledore trailed off, the familiar twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh- no," Harry said quickly. "She's brilliant, and she's my friend, but no."

"And how is Mr Malfoy, Giovanna?" Dumbledore turned to me.

I almost frowned but hid it. I knew Dumbledore had noticed anyways. He notices everything. "Erm, fine. I think."

Dumbledore nodded slowly before quieting again. My eyes flicked up to Fawkes the phoenix who was in his dying days before he would burn and be reborn from the ashes.

"Sir, pardon me for wondering," I spoke up, looking back to the Headmaster, "But I don't think you called us down for a simple therapy session."

"Indeed I did not," Dumbledore nodded and stood from his desk chair. "I want to show you two something."

Harry and I followed Dumbledore as he led us to a golden display. He opened it and a dish that was filled to the brim with water but didn't spill floated out in front of us. He retrieved a vial from the shelves and handed it to Harry. I recognized the silvery substance in the vial.

"That's a Pensive," I pointed to the dish, "And is that-?" I glanced at the vial.

"A memory, yes." Dumbledore nodded. He looked to Harry who poured the silvery liquid into the Pensive, where it turned black and diluted the clear water. "Might want to put your bag down for this one, Giovanna."

I quickly slid the bag off my shoulder, and together, Harry and I leaned down to the Pensive, our faces touching the water. However, it felt like nothing.

The office around us disappeared and was replaced by shadowy buildings of a city and the people walking around in it. We watched as a figure under an umbrella approached a gate labeled Wool's Orphanage. 

"I must admit to some confusion upon receiving your letter, Mr. Dumbledore," a female voice filled the silence as the scene in front of us switched to a fifty years younger Dumbledore- with a shorter hair and beard- ascending a staircase with the woman speaking. "In all the years Tom's been here, he's never once had a family visitor."

The pair was now standing outside a door that most likely led to one of the rooms within the orphanage. "There have been incidents with the other children," the woman continued, "Nasty things."

Cautiously, the woman knocked on the door before pushing it open a tad. "Tom? You have a visitor."

"How do you do, Tom?" Dumbledore asked. I then caught sight of Tom, who was certainly no older than eleven.

I caught glimpses of the room. A few postcards sticking out of a book, seven stones lined up on the windowsill, a picture of a dark sea cliffside pinned to the wall. 

Dumbledore now sat on Tom's bed, Tom seated in a chair, looking at Dumbledore with disdain. "You're the doctor, aren't you?" He asked. "

"No. I am a Professor," Dumbledore corrected him.

"I don't believe you. She wants me looked at. They think I'm... different," Tom scowled.

"Well, perhaps they're right."

"I'm not mad."

"Hogwarts is not a place for mad people. Hogwarts is a school; a school of magic." As Dumbledore said this, I saw the slightest look of interest on Tom's face. "You can do things, can't you, Tom? Things other children can't."

"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. "Who are you?"

"Well, I'm like you, Tom. I'm different."

"Prove it."

Without another word, Tom's wardrobe caught fire, but didn't burn. I saw Tom's face change from surprise to amazement quickly. "I think there's something in your wardrobe trying to get out, Tom," Dumbledore told him.

Tom stood and made his way over to the wardrobe and pulled it open, the fire doing nothing to him. There, amidst the flames, was a rattling box. Tom took it out, and the wardrobe door flung shut, the flames ceasing.

The young boy laid the items from the box out on his bed. A harmonica, a yo-yo, and thimble. "Thievery is not tolerated at Hogwarts, Tom. At Hogwarts you'll be taught not only how to use magic, but how to control it. You understand me?"

Tom said nothing but pursed his lips together. As Dumbledore had gathered his things and was leaving the room, Tom said something that made him pause.

"I can speak to snakes, too," the boy called. "They find me... whisper things. Is that... normal for someone like me?"

Before Dumbledore could reply, the memory began to fade and turned back into the liquid that sat in the Pensive as Harry and I lifted our faces out of it.

"Did you know, then, sir?" Harry asked instantly.

"Could you tell?" I added on.

"Did I know I had just met the most powerful Dark Wizard the world has seen? No, I didn't. He was odd, of course, but nothing that raised any serious worry with me," the Headmaster sighed.

"Is it important to know all this about Voldemort's past?" I asked after a moment of silence had aired.

"Very important, I think," said Dumbledore.

"And it... it's got something to do with the prophecy?" Harry asked.

"It has everything to do with the prophecy."

And with that, Harry and I were sent back to our common rooms for the night.