The Life and Times of Tom Riddle, Dark Lord Etc.

July 26th, 1942

3:00am

I am well aware of the fact that I said I was not going to make any more entries into this journal until the start of term. I did intend to leave this bit out for the better part of the day, but on reflection I think that would be a grave mistake.

I was walking through the hall, on my way to lunch when- and this is going to sound completely absurd- a girl appeared in the middle of the hallway. And when I say "appeared" I do mean just that. One second she wasn't there and the next she was. Not such an abnormal occurence in the wizarding world in general, however this is Hogwarts.

By that I mean Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

By that I mean one of few places where Apparation is impossible.

Which, of course, makes a girl suddenly appearing in the middle of the hall a bit irregular. Highly irregular. As a matter of fact, I would be tempted to use the word "impossible", except that I find myself unable, due to the fact that I witnessed it and am quite sure it did happen, which, obviously and effectively nudges it over into the realm of "possibility".

Still. People quite simply do not appear out of nowhere in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am quite certain she wasn't using an Invisibility Cloak or Spell, because I did not detect her presence prior to her "appearance". I am also quite certain she did not find a way to Apparate here as Parker, Thea, and I have been trying to find a way to do just that--or at least something very similar--for a few years now and have not managed to find a way. I find it highly unlikely that a girl of about my age, who I have never seen in this school before would be able to do something that I have been considering for years and still cannot do.

This either means that I've gone completely mad (and I don't think I have just yet) or something very interesting is going on.

I would simply have asked her where she'd come from and how she'd gotten in, if she hadn't fainted directly after she appeared. Much to my vexation I might add, as I had to levitate her to the Infirmary and then go find a staff member to report her presence to, because Mr. Aesop Reed, our near-criminally-negligent nurse was nowhere to be found (I suspect he was off in Hogsmeade flirting with that woman that runs the sweet shop).

And, of course the first staff member I ran into was the ever-wandering Dumbledore, who I am now certain has been following me. I explained the whole of it to him on our way back to the infirmary. I'm fairly sure he thought I was slightly mad in spite of the way he nodded every so often to indicate that he did not think I was mad at all.

By the time we got there, the girl was already starting to sit up. She froze when she saw the both of us enter the room.

Then she said, "Professor Dumbledore, I need to speak to you."

Which begs the question: How did she know him by name and face?

Albus Dumbledore is a talented wizard, there is no doubting that. However it's not as though he's exactly a household name. There's no reason someone of her age should know who the Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts is unless they actully attend Hogwarts or have parents who pride themselves on being very in the know.

This girl definitely does not qualify for the former reason and most likely fails at the latter as well. More than that, she seemed to know him personally, though by his face I would assume he didn't recognize her at all.

"Professor," she said, shooting the very briefest of glances in my direction. "It's urgent."

And just like that I was shooed out of the room with a "Thank you very much, Tom, you may leave now". Of course I couldn't loiter outside of the infirmary to hear what was so urgent-- Dumbledore would have known I was there, I'm sure. Aggravating, as always.

So there it is, a rather curious set of events. I'm sure the mystery behind them will be easily defeated tomorrow by a few simple questions, but at least it will give me something to think about until then.

Also, I am really quite happy that another person is currently occupying the castle. She'll provide a wonderful target for Professor Slughorn's tiresome loquacity. As a matter of fact, since she'll be an entirely new acquaintance of his, I can almost be assured that once he runs into her I won't have to see him at all for the rest of the day.

9:41am

The question of "who" that girl is has just become a matter of as much interest as how she got here and what she so urgently needed to speak to Dumbledore about.

She is claiming to be Dumbledore's niece, Hermione Dumbledore, here at Hogwarts on some private family business that will, for some secret, private, family reason, be keeping her here throughout the term. In Gryffindor, predictably.

While this story seems quite logical, it has one single, fatal flaw:

It's a load of bollocks.

The girl is an atrocious liar. She fails to make eye contact, her voice shakes slightly, she is not quick enough with answers to certain questions and much too quick with answers to others, her frizzy hair shudders a little when she says something untrue--probably from the way her cheek twinges slightly, and her entire posture and person appear defensive and slightly nervous. The only other explanation for all of these things would be that she is rather shy, frail, and easily frightened .

However, shy, frail, easily frightened people do not typically demand to speak with one of the Greatest Wizards Of Our Time immediately upon rousing in a strange place after having fainted, earlier, in a strange place-- hitting the floor no less--, Uncle or no. Not to mention that her voice when she commanded his attention was so steely it got that twinkling, foppish Transfiguration Professor to hurry me out of the room.

Out of our entire conversation I think I only heard two true statements from her. The first, that her name is Hermione (although the patronymic is still in question); the second that she will be staying in Gryffindor throughout the term.

This is why "who" she is has suddenly become a subject worth looking into. I am ninety percent sure that she is not a Dumbledore and so her identity is not only something worth hiding, it's something worth hiding by Professor Albus Dumbledore. Even I have to admit, though I really do hate to say it twice in one day, that he is one of the greatest wizards of our time. I do have to state, in addition, that this "Hermione" seems to be one of the most regular people of all time.

As far as I can tell there doesn't seem to be anything special about her aside from the fact that I'm sure she's the only person I've ever met whose hair would make a convincing nesting area for owls. That aside, everything else even slightly remarkable about her is circumstancial.

But those circumstances keep piling up.

Starting with the obvious, her mysterious appearance in the hallway (which she tried to convince me was not actually mysterious at all and only seemed to be because I wasn't paying any attention as I walked-- arrantly ridiculous). Then her imperative need to speak to Professor Dumbledore as soon as possible coupled with her knowledge and seeming familiarity with said Professor, who did not know who she was at all. After that, the fact that she has, for whatever reason come under Dumbledore's aegis having been loaned his name to disguise her own for reasons that must have to do with the subject of their conversation.

To end with the less obvious, the fact that she didn't make eye contact with me at all save twice and only briefly. No one knows that I'm an avid student of Legilimency and Occlumency with the exception of Thea and Parker. I wouldn't put it past Dumbledore to have guessed, as he is more than capable in both studies, however, even if he has guessed, why tell this girl? If he hasn't, how would she know? Although I can't be sure that was the exact reason she was avoiding eye contact, it seems like the most likely given the extent to which she lied during our wonderful little chat. Also, she seemed to be frightened of me-- not in a skittish or embarrassed way, but in the way that tourists are afraid of lions when they go on safari and perhaps get a little too close.

While I will not deny that there are a great many reasons why people should be frightened of me, this girl should not-- could not know any of them. So why the fear?

The only possible explanation for these less obvious observations is that she knows things that she could not possibly know.

She has apparently entered this institution in a way that it can not possibly be entered.

Also, the only explanation I can find for her hair being so... terrible is that she arranges it and frizzes it on purpose, however she can not possibly think that it's in any way flattering.

I find it rather tiresome when people do the impossible. Tiresome and rather difficult to explain. Especially when said people are so loath to speak to me. I suppose that could've gone under the list of less obvious circumstances, however I think her slight fear of me covers it well enough. My absolute most charming smile and affable mien could barely wring any sort of response out of her. She kept her answers short (probably because they were all lies) and made it quite clear that she would rather not speak to me. From that encounter I can easily assume that I won't be getting any answers straight from the horse's mouth,as it were.

Which means solving all my little mysteries will take a little more time than previously anticipated. Since "Hermione" excused herself early during breakfast, claiming fatigue, I won't be able to continue to catch her in one of her lies--something that was trying enough when she would barely speak to me and that would fairly impossible to accomplish when she isn't even awake to lie. Talking Dumbledore would, quite obviously be useless as the old man has proved time and again that he is far too canny for his own good. In no way omnipotent, or omniscient, but still excessively irritating nonetheless.

So I think I will survey the only lead left. That once-normal-now-quite-curious hallway.

5:15pm

I don't know exactly how, but somehow, I failed to realize that if "Hermione" was asleep in Gryffindor, she would not be giddily exploring the castle and running inevitably into Professor Slughorn, meaning that Slughorn would not be too caught up breaking in a new student's ears with his unending jabber to come looking for me. Meaning that he would be looking for me and that, given my luck which does tend toward the terrible, he would find me.

The way I manage to overlook these minor, but significant details sometimes never fails to amaze me. Since overlooking them has never been anything but wildly detrimental for me, I don't know why I've never corrected myself. In any case, I will definitely look into remembering and focusing on minor details from now on. All this getting blindsided clearly has a negative effect on my sanity.

For example, when Slughorn sneaks up on me and surprises me utterly by saying things like, "So, Tom, my young man, that girl's rather pretty, eh?" and smiling in a way that I can only describe by presenting you, the reader, with the following, disturbing scenario, which is that you have a great lump of white gelatin in a bowl. You tap the bowl, the gelatin jiggles, and you can see your face in the gelatin, jiggling with it. The gelatin is speaking to you. It will not shut up. Everything it is saying is completely and totally inane, and even though you have only tapped the bowl once and only slightly, the gelatin continues to jiggle. For hours. I do hope my description is sufficiently horrifying.

Well, when he says things like that and smiles in that way, I think that, if sanity were to be measured in points (the total number of which is obvioiusly unknkown, but I assume it was very much higher, perhaps, when I was born, than it is now), I lose twenty-five of them. Every time he calls me "Tommy boy" I lose fifty.

When I reply with a perfectly reasonable answer like "Oh, I don't know, not really, I would say" and he responds by winking at me. Twice. Then nudging me. Twice. I lose two-hundred.

His continuing on with, "Saw the two of you talking at breakfast. Don't waste any time do you?" Loses me another ten. The following, self-satisfied "Ho, ho,ho," enhanced by the usual flapping and a bit of nudging for extra measure seizes an additional fifty.

The fact that, when he said and did all these things, he still had crumbs of toast in his beard that had a tendency to move when he laughed, the fact that the arm he nudged me with was particularly disgusting as it was connected to a rather damp and malodorous armpit, and the fact that Professor Slughorn winking is exponentially more traumatizing than nearly every other being on the planet winking, all snatch away another one hundred points of my sanity in all.

I did try to tell him that I wasn't going to be romantically interested in a girl I'd just met, because really I wasn't going to be romantically interested in any one at all. I've never been before, after all, why start? But he simply bowled right over my rather strident, "Well I just met her and I don't think that--" and right into a "Ho, ho, ho, when I was your age..." speech.

This speech managed to go on for what seemed like three hours and, by my estimation, sapped 3,458 of my sanity points.

It was positively one of the most excruciating forms of torture ever devised by man or beast.

Especially the extra winking and nudging dispersed throughout. That was nothing less than excruciating.

In fact, if I were a lesser man, I might have nightmares about it.

In fact, that girl might seriously have to pay for subjecting me to it.

Also, though I think it goes without saying, I did not manage to find anything strange in the hallway. This was mostly because I did not even get a chance to look at it for more than five seconds before, well, I've already spent all this time explaining that and there's no use in reliving those particular memories for a second time.

July 27th, 1942

9:35am

I just received and perused a letter from Parker informing me that, according to his recent Divinations, I should either have expected a strange traveler on the 25th, or a strange fingernail. Thea's sterling and ever apt advice on the subject was to, and I quote "Swallow your pride and show Mr. Reed your hand before it falls off. Unless it is the traveler and it's a pretty girl. Then you should probably go after her and release some of that sexual frustration that makes you so crabby all the time. Same, possibly, if it's a pretty boy and you're all right with that."

Even long distance conversations with Thea typically cost me at least 500 points each.

Two hundred fifty points were restored when, in the postscript, Parker said he was going to look a bit more into this "strange traveler" since he highly doubted there was anything wrong with my fingernail. However those newfound points quite quickly vanished, taking another one hundred with them when he informed me that this "looking into" was contingent on their crystal ball surviving a game of Quidditch they were going to play in which the poor divining instrument was to star as the Quaffle.

Only fifty came back when I received a subsequent letter from Thea saying, "We were only kidding about the Quaffle thing. Expect another post tomorrow."

Those two jitterbug on the line between being an aid to me and a detriment. It's not rare for me to wonder whether they haven't lost all their sanity points and are now busy trying to leech mine to fill the void.

12:22pm

There is absolutely nothing wrong with the hallway. No trick walls, no trap doors, nothing. It was rather disheartening.

Also, apparently "Hermione" is ignoring mealtimes. Either she's very hungry or she knows how to get to the kitchens. Of course she can't possibly know how to get to the kitchens, because while there are several handy ways there is no way to know what they are until you've lived her for some time. By some time I, of course, mean more than two days.

Then again, she can't possibly be, do, or know a number of things that she apparently is. Although I hope she doesn't really know anything about me. I think it may just be impossible to kill people discretely in this school-- what with Dumbledore watching.

7:00pm

I have resigned myself to the fact that I will probably not run into the young "Miss Dumbledore" again until term starts, which itself is another strange thing to add to her already sizable list.

Also, Dippet's made his appearance at the Headmaster's table, looking rather worse for wear. If I had to guess, I would say that his vacation did not better his health as the rest of the staff hoped it would. In fact, I would go so far as to say that he looks even more sallow and sickly now than he did last year.

Although I do suppose there is a great deal to worry about. The Daily Prophet proclaims that Grindelwald is gaining strength in Great Britain. Til recently I think he's kept most of his mess to the continent, but I suppose that's going to change now.

The picture on the front page shows a still-photo of a house reduced to rubble, although I doubt that was Grindelwald's work directly. It looks more like the victim of an air raid, however the visceral effect really can't be denied. I suppose the photographers, editors, and writers at the Daily Prophet deserve an E for Exceeds Expectations and also Exaggeration.

I have to wonder if Dippet will even make it through this year. I rather hope he does, because his death would probably promote Dumbledore to Headmaster. That's something so dreadful I can't even imagine it.

July 28th, 1942

9:58am

Have not yet received a letter from the Sabins. Can only assume they were not kidding about the "Quaffle" thing. Currently planning their painful and untimely deaths.

11:20am

Received letter. Have cancelled plans to murder the both of them before term starts.

Note reads:

Tom-

Your strange traveler is really very much stranger than anticipated. We think it's a girl. Does it have horns? Or a tail? Or purple skin? Have you seen her in the daylight? Could she possibly be a super, mutated vampire creature? We think she might be, because we have no idea what else she could be. Maybe you can tell us when term starts.

-Thea&Parker

P.S. You know you're not going to get rid of us for at least a year, because you'll go absolutely batty if you've only got yourself to talk to. Really, now, even Adolf Hitler has advisors.

Posted a note that reads:

Parker, Thea-

I'm sure that Adolf Hitler's advisors are not crazy and/or incompetent.

-Tom

1:54pm

Note from Thea and Parker says:

O' Dearest Great and Terrible Master,

Didn't one of them-a muggle one- just parachute into our country, because he thought he could talk us into submission, because he thought he was imbued with some sort of special power? We think that really happened. Also we think that is a far more crazy/incompetent thing to do than anything we've ever done. Or will do. In fact, we are of the mind that on the scale of craziness we clock in at a not-quite-safe, but not-too detrimental six. Perhaps seven. On the scale of incompetence we believe we rate a scant one. Perhaps zero. In fact we think we are highly competent and regret that our insanity obfuscates the exact, soaring level of our competence, which we believe to be as bold, shining, accurate, and vicious, as a bird of prey. Perhaps an eagle. Which you should be able to appreciate if you forget, just for a second, that sometimes eagles eat snakes, because we did forget and we really didn't mean that in that way. No one wants to eat you, but we're sure that if someone did you would provide a Great and Terrible Meal.

Sorrowfully and Unworthily,

Your Minions

P.S. We think that doors might have something to do with your traveler. Some sort of broken door? Or passage? In any case, we've enclosed a new Cryptus charm for you.

At the very least, they are entertaining once in a while. And somewhat useful.

Although, I don't recall having seen any sort of broken door recently.

Currently, I am considering the possibility of just killing the two of them without making it painful. However, it should be noted that this is a rather light consideration.

NOTES:

Thanks to all those who reviewed this fic. noisee, WamprickNyx,Svelte Rose, Morast, RiddleMeThis, Flaignhan (especially for getting the thing about his parents), Alenor, Emriel, Right or Ryn, ginsensu, Black Aliss, Tom the Riddle, Avery-88, TheEyesoftheTiger (excellent penname, btw, makes me think of awesome montages. Anywho, when he says he's going to kill them, he really does mean it. I promise. He's mean-sociable.), Haydees, Youko-sama, jeanne, Rowena Ravenclaw (trust me, we share the same concerns there. I am thinking of ways to incorporate more of both, though. Or at least keep it interesting), Cathar, A. Reader (have you ever read that SW fic Tales from a Trash Compactor?).

As Always thanks to Inner Dementia, who has posted a pretty neat HPxHGxTR fic that's definitely worth checking out IMHO.

Also, I'm scaling up to my most canon Tom ever with Ouroboros. Currently the story of Voldemort's parents, like a prequel. If you've got the time, you might want to check that out. It's not very funny, but I'm happy with it (at least the chapter that's up). AND I've finally started the AIR rewrite, which also features a more canon Tom. It'll be called Noughts and Crosses when it's up. Just an FYI in case anyone's interested.