For the Greater Good || Tom Riddle ||

Chapter Fifteen: Cherry Soda

Armando Dippet was particularly fond of Cauldron Cakes, the Gryffindor Quidditch team (which he used be a part of), and The Daily Prophet. A feeble old man, he spent a majority of his time reading, tending to his Dittany garden, and sending owls.

At over two hundred years old, Dippet wasn't exactly a sprite educator, but he also did not fear being a disciplinarian at times. Frankly, for him, discipline meant respecting your elders, minding your own business, and wearing appropriate clothing for Godric's sakes.

However, Armando understood the importance of making memories as a youth. Throwing the Valentine's Day Ball annually was just one such moment where Dippet liked to recall his own time at Hogwarts—especially since his Araminta's passing this winter left him feeling astoundingly nostalgic.

So, he felt no qualms about throwing a party for the students, complete with music, hors d'oeuvres, and alcohol. Perhaps he was a bit too lenient on the alcohol policy, but he figured it was nothing that a little anti-hangover draught couldn't fix the next morning, albeit, it was quite a nasty potion.

And while he had seen some nasty things in his lifetime, such as his encounter with a Caipora from Castelobruxo, Armando Dippet hadn't failed to navigate the students of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry toward safety during his time as Headmaster.

Yes, in 1926, he had sent students home early for the school year—he had to respond to the looming threat of Grindelwald. But that turned out fine, he merely increased security around the grounds. And Armando didn't even flinch when he decided to expel Rubeus Hagrid for the horrible accident with his Acromantula. Yes, that was to protect the students (not a microaggression against half-giants, no, not at all). The headmaster didn't even regret banning pantomimes from Hogwarts until the well—forever—after the incident with Professor Beery and the Ashwinder.

And even after the fatal incident with that blasted spider, deep down, Armando Dippet believed that no student of Hogwarts could have ill intentions.

Oh, how he was wrong.

Knowing this, Tom Marvolo Riddle left the first-floor girl's lavatory at a leisurely pace.

He felt much better now, much more in control. He was no longer plagued by the dubious and unwanted emotions he had experienced earlier that night. Instead, he felt empowered.

He had discarded, or better put—left—Lucretia Black's body in the second stall. She had started off overly zealous in her affections, but the Firewhiskey began to wear on her until the point she couldn't handle her liquor anymore. That had allowed for Tom to gain more leverage.

At one point, he briefly thought about the ghost of that disgusting little mudblood coming in and interrupting. But that also brought back the memory of her death and the Basilisk and his horcrux and his immortality, and he felt the blood rush to his head in excitement.

He had of course obliviated the Black girl. He didn't need any rumors running rampant around the school. In fact, he had already forgotten what color her eyes were, largely because he had been too busy thinking about hers. A light blue, like the color of the Delphinium flowers that grew outside his window at the orphanage.

Stop, he told himself.

He didn't need to poison his mind with those thoughts again. He had taken care of it.

Yes. Everything is going according to plan...

Now that he was able to reclaim his focus, he figured tonight would be as good of a night as any to dedicate some time to search for a peculiar item. He had heard one of the old moving paintings muttering nonsense about a strange heirloom hidden in the walls of Hogwarts, and he was determined to find it. Lucky for Tom, he had always had a natural knack for eavesdropping.