Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise. I do own my right to fantasize. See what I did there?

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"Killing Gaunt was easy, dealing with the consequences was difficult. I did not realize that the missing body of Morfin would trigger waves of loyal exasperation from his young followers. I assumed that the followers were all adolescent children who would eventually move on to another harmless peer fad."

He goes to a cabinet and pulls an out volume of the Prophet. He then offers me the volume to identify Grindlewand and his followers who can be seen attacking the Ministry of Magic from the moving pictures under the newspaper headline which is entitled as: First Wizarding War by Grindlewand.

"I underestimated Grindlewand, a mutual friend of both me and Gaunt. Like Morfin, he detested muggleborns and did not see how non-magical people should be treated as equals. He also had a similar experience with Gaunt, both of their parents were attacked and killed in the Muggle realm."

"That would mean, they have the same goal?" I inquired.

"Gaunt simply wanted to enslave muggleborns, but Grindlewand passionately wanted complete annihilation of the muggle realm as well as procuring the elder wand which is the ultimate weapon to immortality and infinite power towards the fate of the world itself. Grindlewand was a true fatalist."

He glares at the Prophet from his point of view, obviously repulsed at the man featured in the paper.

"He had no class when dealing with Gaunt's remaining followers. No charm to avoid his own casualties. He took what he wanted by force, choosing to attain his leadership through the completion of the elder wand by prying from corpses and forcing people to follow and be loyal out of fear for their lives."

"Headmaster, how were you able to defeat Grindlewand?" I asked the question that million still wonder.

"I defeated him with cold-hearted deceit. Like Gaunt, Grindlewand wanted me as an ally. Unlike Gaunt who would have spared my family, Grindlewand thought my sister was keeping me away from his cause. Apart from the future, the atonement for the death of my sister was my main motivation."

He sighed, having trouble explaining the details to me.

"Is Grindlewand dead?" I asked.

"Yes. Yes he is. Propaganda convinced the majority that I had no direct responsibility of his death. Most of the wizarding population believed that Grindlewand was immortal, but is now too weak to do harm because of the damage that I have casted upon him. They wanted me to be a righteous hero."

"What did you do then? How did you kill Grindlewand?" I question.

"In order to kill him, Grindlewand had to surrender the Elder Wand so as to be mortal once again. It was difficult to portray a trusting ally, but he was eventually convinced that I am trustworthy. So when he passed the Elder Wand to me, I killed him as soon as I was able to do so." Dumbledore explains.

I find his explanation incomplete, finding it hard to believe that Grindlewand would give up easily.

"By the time I reached Grindlewand, he became a shell of his former self. The elder wand may be a powerful artefact. But if the wizard is not as resilient as the wand, then the wizard will eventually lose control of his own personal gain with that of his sanity. He was losing his control over the wand."

He adjusted his glasses to rest on the bridge of his nose, showing discontent.

"We might have won, but it was a challenging loss. When the First Wizarding War ended, there were more deaths than from my previous lifetime. Due to Grindlewand's eccentricity, the deaths were in millions and the destruction was limitless. In the end, his actions paved the way of his condemnation."

"So you mean to say, that killing Tom Riddle would not prevent the Second or Third Wizarding War? That instead of ending a murderer's intent to killing millions, ending the life of Riddle would just trigger or instigate the existence of another murderer who is just as brutal or even worst?"

"Correct, Miss Granger." He confirmed without hesitation.

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Something was odd about Tom, ever since Arthur left.

At first, it was subtle. He would be in this long trance for three to five minutes, staring at nothing in particular. His face would paint what I can only describe as extreme focus, the focus that he would usually use when he is trying to win at chess or during one of his hunting expeditions.

His bouts of extreme focus has been quite frequent, and gradually obvious at the most inconvenient situations. Maybe I shouldn't even be describing them as his usual habit of being transfixed..maybe I should describe his peculiarities as..disturbed. He appears to be solving something he cannot explain.

Whatever the problem is, he is quite distracted.

One morning, Paul poured an entire picture of milk on his head and Riddle did not move an inch.

He is so engrossed at what he is thinking, that he would even skip answering the questions that are asked during class. Usually he would answer politely when the children would ask a question, but now he pretends not to know the answer and continues with his distracting thoughts.

After a few days, his bouts of being distracted becomes even more troubling.

At one point, I found him sitting on his chair at the classroom on his own. The class was already dismissed and he did not realize that it is already seven in the evening. He tells me with a small smile that he was just trying to get a quick nap. But Tom never naps, especially with his eyes open.

His explanation of taking a nap is plausible. Apart from being constantly distracted, he also has problems sleeping. Usually he would be awake at around 5:00 am in the morning. But lately he is already awake at 3:00 am or even 2:00 am. He would tell me that he slept much earlier, but I don't believe him.

His new habits didn't deter him from doing his responsibilities, and he was still his usual self with me and others. So I didn't consider his peculiarities in a more serious manner.

But after two weeks, he started to have sleepless nights. And when he does get some sleep, he would wake up very late. The nurses convinced themselves that he is just acting like any juvenile teenager.

But I know better.

Usually the nurses, especially Merida and Dorothy, would prod and annoy the children if they are doing something that would threaten their health. Sleepless night for any of the orphans is not tolerated. The children must sleep at the sick ward if possible. But for Riddle, the nurses are strangely quiet.

I would tell them that Tom was acting strange, but they would ignore what I say.

Even Merida would change the conversation.

And Merida would never do that, not when it comes to the children.

As days would pass, Merida and the rest of the St. Agatha staff would go on with their responsibilities. They would acknowledge Tom if he wishes to be acknowledged, a rare but possible interaction. But unlike the other orphans, the adults would not instigate further conversation with Riddle.

After one month, Riddle sleeps late and wakes up at 10:00 am or 11:00 am.

Paul and Anna would pester and complain to the nuns, asking why Tom gets to sleep in while the rest would have to wake up early in the morning. The nuns would give their sympathies and would give Tom some sagely advice, but any interventions beyond that was non-existent.

It is as if he was permitted to sleep in.

It is as if it was okay for a teenager to wake up at 10:00 am and go to bed at merlin knows what hour.

The adults would avoid Tom like the plague, keeping their distance and pretending he doesn't exist.

Merida and the staff know something. But they chose not to intervene.

His new sleeping habits are appalling. And no one cares to notice. I asked him several times if there is something wrong, but he assures me that he is alright. When I insist that his behaviour is not at all normal, he would just give me a tired smile and walk away like I never asked or inquired at all.

Usually Riddle would share everything to me. But now he is distancing himself.

Often times he would avoid me at the hallways. He also wouldn't want to be my partner during group activities. During meals, he would still sit next to me, but he would keep himself at least a feet away. He was so cautious around me, avoiding any physical touch whatsoever.

He usually offer his arm or his hand when we walk the stairs or go for a hike at the forest. He doesn't do that anymore. He doesn't even kiss me on the cheek before going for his hunting trips. When I ask for a hug, he would briefly give me an awkward side shoulder tap and pretend that was close to hugging.

I try to reason out that his distance is just part of his hormonal life stage development.

But this is far beyond having a juvenile mood.

Something strange is going on here, and I am going find out.

"Is he awake yet?" Anna asks, passing me the butter.

"No." I tell her.

"Mina, I heard Paul and Tom had a fight yesterday. Maybe you should see Riddle at the ward?" The blonde girl asks, looking rather worried.

"You know them, they fight once in a while..but I think you're right." I reply.

Seeing as Tom is being given special treatment, the boys didn't want him to sleep at their quarters. Tom has been sleeping at the sick ward for a week now. I asked him if he wants any help with how the boys were treating him, but he insists that it was just a childish fight and that the tension would subside.

Paul would even ignore him, never questioning why Riddle was allowed to have such privileges in the first place. If Anna would ask Paul about Tom, Paul would scold at her and tell her not to even bother.

"I'll wake him up..see if he is interested to have some breakfast." I assure Anna, making my way out of the kitchen.

"I'll save you some toast." Anna replies as she feeds the toddler in front of her.

Reaching the sick ward, I am reminded of the time when we were much younger. When I told him that I would never leave him, and gave him the will to move on when his father abandoned him. I thought that the traumatic event of being abandoned by his parent was the reason that spurned him to be a monster.

But is it possible that Tom Riddle faced a more disturbing event in his life?

Apart from losing his father, is he dealing with something more…sinister?

Tightly covered with a blanket, I watch his sleeping body cautiously.

For a split second, I saw a weak defenceless boy who intentionally starved himself for hope.

But the image left, and on the bed lies a tired looking young man who do not wish to be disturbed.

"Tom..Tom..wake up.." I shake the Riddle gently, but he doesn't respond.

Even though he is currently sleeping, he appears to be very tired. There are dark circles around his eyes, and his breathing is quite erratic. His face is sweating and his body shivers. I rest my palm on his forehead to check his temperature, he appears to have a slight fever.

I was about to pull the sheets so that his body can cool down, but he stirs from his sleep and then swats my hand away from his face. I look at Tom and he looks back with confusion and what I can only comprehend as fear. I don't know why he is reacting this way, but Tom Riddle is afraid.

Afraid of what exactly?

"Don't touch me!" He shouts

"Tom, calm down. It's me, Mina." I tell him, waiting until he realizes who I am.

"M-mina, uhm..sorry, I didn't think it was you..I was..I..I was.." He tries to explain.

"You were having a dream?" I try to finish.

"Yes..um..no. A nightmare really." He confides.

"Oh? What was the nightmare about?" I ask, sitting by his bed.

"It's nothing..just..um..nothing." Riddle answers.

I sigh, knowing this will be a long conversation.

"Tom, you haven't been yourself for months. You have been distancing yourself from everyone else, including me." I tell him.

"Yes, I know that. I do. I just..I'm just going through issues.." He tries to explain, rubbing his forehead.

"What are those issues? Perhaps I can help."

"Absolutely not." He quickly rejects, expressing a very serious face before reverting to an apologetic gait.

"Sorry Mina, I mean..I mean that I can handle my problems myself..I'll be fine." He insists.

"Are you absolutely sure?" I question, resting my hands on his shivering shoulders.

I see his mask of confidence crumble before me. But then he builds his wall again, without hesitation.

"I'll be fine Mina. You don't have to worry about me." Riddle says, taking my hands away from him and resting them on my knees.

"Then hug me like you mean it, a real one." I demand, standing and resting my hands on my hips.

He sits on the foot of his bed and sighs. He knows that I am giving a test, so he gives a mirthless laugh as he makes his way toward me. Slowly but surely, he stands in front of me and gives me one of our usual hugs. With great hesitation, he rests his chin on my shoulder and brings his hands on my back.

"I'll be okay Mina. I'm going to be fine." Tom says calmly.

"I'm here Tom..I'll always be with you." I tell him soothingly.

Hearing me say those words appear to have broken his resolve. He tightens his hold on me, bringing me closer. He is holding me so tight, I can barely hear him whimper.

"Tom..Tom your crushing me.." I try to say with a laugh, tapping him on the back.

He loosens his hold but doesn't let go.

"Tom..please tell me what's wrong." I ask, feeling his heart beat so fast on his chest.

"I can't Mina..I'm sorry. It would ruin this..what we have. I can't lose this..I can't lose you." Tom says, stifling a sob. "I'm going to be fine Mina, I promise. Just stay with me..Just stay.." He says feverishly.

"Of course.." I assure him, swaying us softly. "I'll always be with you..always." I tell him.

He pushes me gently, wanting to look at my face. I give him an encouraging smile.

He kisses me on the forehead like he always does when we have occasional tender moments.

But his lips linger more than usual.

And then he takes a deep breath, his bright red eyes looking at mine.

His gaze becomes lower, focusing on my lips.

With his long fingers, he tips my chin.

And kisses me without hesitation.

I was surprised at first, briefly gasping just before he moulded his lips with mine. Thinking he was at such a vulnerable state, I keep myself still and tentatively return the kiss. I bring my arms to rest on his shoulders and bring him closer. Realizing that I was responding, his movements become unpredictable.

Having silently allowed him to continue with his actions, he inserts his tongue on my mouth without permission. Stunned that he is so confident with his action, I tried to make a sound of insecurity. But instead of a fearful yelp, I hear myself stifle a moan. My body is reacting without my consent.

Having heard my moan, he deepens the kiss. I try to make gestures of resistance but I haven't been touched in this manner for so long..my teenage instincts are getting the better of me. Like an eager adolescent, he roams my body with his hands. At first cupping my breast, then groping my bum.

His fingers reach my thigh. He was about to go higher, under my skirt. But I swat his hand and step back. This was getting out of hand, I didn't think it would go this far. He was more experienced than I thought. Which is very peculiar because to my knowledge, he never handled a girl in such a manner.

"Woah Tom, this is going a bit too fast. I'm not ready for that yet..for any of this really..Can we pause for a bit? Think about what just happened?" I explain with a nervous laugh, gasping for air.

I have to admit, he felt so good. But this is just the hormones.

The real matter at hand, should be discussed.

The real matter at hand, is the look of shock on his face.

His face expresses escalating anxiety and self-hatred.

Three windows shatter on the far side of the room.

The mirror next to us breaks.

Oh no.

He's unstable.

He's magically unstable.

I look at the magic neutralizing charm that I gave him three years ago. The necklace currently has ten onyx beads. Each bead is supposed to suppress a year of uncontrollable magic. But at fifteen, he already has magical capabilities that are beyond his age.

Most of the onyx stones around his neck is not broken or clouded, but one of them has a fissure.

If his magic continues to escalate with his emotions, he is going to break the necklace.

"I'm..I'm sorry Mina..I don't know what has come over me.." He lets me go, like I was fire. He grips his head, tugging on his raven hair as he backs away.

"No Tom, it was okay. I liked it..it's just that you were moving too fast and.." I stop talking, finding that my attempt to calm him down is not helping.

There is terror in his eyes that are now shedding tears uncontrollably. He doesn't bother to wipe his tears, too distraught to even care about what he looks. The last time Riddle cried was five years ago. He is truly regretting his actions, so much so that he is physically reacting in agony.

The damaged onyx bead falls from his necklace. I hear three of the beads crack, but they still hang on.

"I'm sorry Mina..I'm sorry. It wasn't supposed to be like this. This wasn't supposed to happen. I'm just..I'm so fucked up..I'm so fucked up and you deserve better. You deserve so much better." He says with a panicked voice.

The three damaged beads fall from the ground, he is getting worse.

"Tom..calm down..I'm okay..I was just afraid that's all.." I tell him, careful with my actions.

His panicked movements are halted, he looks at me with hopelessness.

The temperature in the room is colder.

Seconds of silence, feel like hours.

I want to ask questions, I wanted to make him understand that I was fine.

But nothing is fine.

I feel anxious, the feeling that I get when I lost something.

This is a loss I can never return.

This loss is keeping me from forming words..or even making a sound.

I don't know what to say. I bite my lip, helpless.

I'm losing him, I'm losing everything that I worked hard for.

And I do not know why.

"Tom..please..tell me what's going on.." I beg, throwing away my arrogance and pride.

Lives of people are at stake here..civility is not an option.

But even my begging is stopping him from saying what is wrong with him.

I could see it in his face.

He won't tell me what is happening to him..he doesn't trust me enough.

He doesn't trust me anymore.

Maybe if I didn't hesitate..maybe if I didn't stop him..

Maybe if I wasn't so...scared.

No. It's too late.

I lost him.

He's gone.

"I didn't want you to be afraid Mina..I never wanted you to be afraid." He whispers, turns his back.

And then he walks away.

I fall to my knees, trembling from the anticipation.

The anticipation of losing control.

The anticipation of uncertainty.

The anticipation of fear.

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"If I prevent him from being the monster that he becomes, what will I do then? Do I have a chance to go back to my time?" I ask the headmaster, tired of arguing about the abstract justice required by an incomprehensible identity known as fate.

I was never a believer of science.

Science is flawed, just as mankind is imperfect.

But Logic however, logic is something I always believed in.

Logic tells me that fate is inconsolable.

Fate will is inevitable, that is the logic of fate.

But adding variables, can change the fate of individuals involved.

That is all I can salvage form the conversation.

That is all I need to know.

My real problem was never fate.

My real problem was being alone with a man who could easily ruin the lives of millions.

And I am afraid, afraid to be without an ally to the evil that I must endure.

I am afraid of making a mistake that could result to ending the lives of millions.

I am afraid I cannot do the task.

I am afraid of failure.

I am terrified of what he could be.

"You cannot go back to your time Miss Granger, you have to watch him as he takes his last breath. You need to make sure that he never causes fear to another, other than yourself." Dumbledore replies.