Savior of Darkness

Chapter 5: Ghosts of the Past

The corridors closed in around me as I stumbled through them. My ears were ringing, my vision darkening to mere pinpoints of light before me. Feverish heat swept throughout me as I reached out with a shaky hand to lean against the wall. In doing so, my hand fell through something that felt as frigid as a tub of ice.

I gasped and pulled my hand back, slinking against the wall as I stared up into the transparent figure floating above me. He was round, bore a nasty grin, and emitted an irritating cackle.

"Whoo! Tommy, fancy having you back here!" The figure swooped to face me upside-down, his eerie features right before mine. I jerked out of reach of his icy grip and he cackled again.

I fought against the thudding of my heart. "You know me, then?" I asked as calmly as I could manage, watching as he rolled upwards with a lazy loop. Memory or not, I wasn't thick enough to miss that he wasn't entirely human. My guard immediately went up, but also my curiosity was piqued.

At my words his face dropped in mock disparity. "What? You don't remember me? I am hurt."

Puzzlement filled me at his words, but again I tried to swallow it down. "I wouldn't take it personally this time," I said, slowly pulling myself up. My gaze wouldn't leave the sight before me, even as my mind was still working through the overwhelming rush of dizzy emotion that swept me up moments before. Thoughts slid into each other, lying on top of one another until I felt an explosion inside was imminent.

The creature was still blathering away. "No...no, Tommy. This is going to put a serious damper on our relationship. Just when I was going to offer you some delightful insights, the way old friends do. I mean, I know that you were busy what with all the--"

"Peeves!" The voice shot both of us around. Percy was running to meet us, an unsurprisingly stern expression on his face. Stopping before us, he addressed the floating figure with a clipped tone. "Leave him alone, Peeves. Move on."

Peeves placed a hand over where his heart should have been. "Me? I'm pained, Percy. All I wanted to do was catch up with my old friend here. Poor boy has lost his mind; it must be terrible. I was just trying to help him. You might be interested to learn what I have to say, as well." The look he gave Percy was one of impish glee. "Shall I begin at the beginning? It is such a long story -"

"Peeves, shove off or I'll get the Bloody Baron to figure out a way to make you eligible for the Headless Hunters." Percy's tone brooked no impertinence.

At that, Peeves sniffed and replied, "Well, you both obviously aren't ready to learn what I have to say. 'Some wizards,' is all I can say." With that, he floated off. Percy seemed to be speaking, but every sense I possessed seemed to sink inside me. Barely realizing I was sagging against the wall, I felt a numbing wash start low within me, driving all focus to my mind. Placing my hands over my aching temples, the words I heard seemed trapped under water, struggling to break through the currents in my thoughts. They were louder but not clearer, until finally with a gasp of frozen air they rang out shrill and echoed inside my mind.

~I want you to remember! ~

"What?" I jerked my head up, feeling the sweat on my face. I saw Percy standing before me, holding onto my shaking wrists. When I opened my eyes he let go of me and stepped back, looking confused and cautious. I eyed him the same way, breathing heavy air into my leaden lungs. "What - did - you say?"

Percy spoke slowly, as if to a child. "I asked if you were alright."

Just fine. By the way, is hearing voices common for people? I can't seem to remember. The scathing words brought nothing but a sickening clench inside. I struggled to keep the terrified shivering from showing to Percy, feeling humiliation well up. "I'll be fine. I just have a headache. Who was that?"

Percy glanced in the direction Peeves had floated off in. "Oh, that's just Peeves, the poltergeist." Watching me,he seemed unsure of how to proceed before brightening and offering, "A poltergeist is -".

"I know what a poltergeist is," I said, a bit annoyed. Perhaps he took comfort in retreating behind his plethora of knowledge, but the condescension he gave off chafed at me.

"You do?" Percy sounded surprised.

I sank to the floor, leaning against the wall. "It's a ghost." The words floated from somewhere out of me, but they had little meaning.

"Mm-hmm. And do you know what a ghost is?" I opened my eyes to see Percy looking down at me, also clearly annoyed.

A spark of anger shot through me, mostly because I didn't know. But I certainly wouldn't find anything out with us sniping at each other. "It's a poltergeist," I finally replied.

Percy smiled at that, and the tension dissipated. He sat down next to me and began to explain in a less authoritative tone. "When some things die, they linger in another form here. That form is a ghost. And a poltergeist is a type of ghost, a noisy and mischievous one. Usually irritating, like Peeves."

I tried to think through my headache. "So he became a poltergeist instead of a regular ghost. I wonder why?"

Percy shot me a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"What Peeves was like alive, or what happened to make him a poltergeist in death." I stared at him with a touch of incredulity...or perhaps condescension. "Don't you want to know why things are the way they are?"

Percy shrugged, his jaw slightly tight as he looked away from me. "Usually I do. I'm mad about figuring things out, trying to understand them. But Peeves is just an annoying prat most of the time. I hardly ever thought him worth trying to figure out."

I sighed and leaned my head against the cool stone. The rocky surface was rough and damp, sending chills down my neck. My back ached, but it was already coated with sweat, and I refused to let myself shiver from the stone. "Everything seems worth understanding. Given time, of course. At least from my position."

I heard him suck in his breath and I cringed, not waiting for the pity. "And don't say you're sorry. I won't appreciate it anymore than you do." Glancing over at him, I saw him flush, confirming that that was precisely what he had been about to do.

A slight pause came, and then stretched itself out, neither of us willing to say the next thing, since neither of us was sure what should be said. Finally, he awkwardly responded, "Either way I wouldn't listen to Peeves, Tom. I doubt he knows anything worth telling to you. He might not have - no, he probably didn't even know you. Most likely he was listening in on some conversation he shouldn't have been. And if that conversation was too boring, he would embellish it. He just likes to cause trouble."

"Sounds like a simply wonderful thing to keep around a school. And there was a monster, did he say?" I gave him a disbelieving glance.

Percy's face visibly tensed. "Who said?"

I closed my eyes, pressing a cold hand to my head as I responded slowly. "The boy with the scar." The thought of him, and the monster, made me feel even queasier and increased the throbbing in my temples.

~Don't shiver now ~

The smoothly echoing words slid down my nerves, stimulating each one. The voice caught me, ensnaring my focus as the words wrapped around my consciousness. It was high and more focused this time, not around me but inside. My own thoughts. My heart thudded inside its cage, and the picture of its pulsing blood flooded my vision.

I gasped, hyperventilating, struggling against what was overtaking me. My eyes rolled back as a directionless brightness blinded my vision. Everything was dark and impenetrable besides the growing light, much as I strived to break through it.

And then, suddenly, it ended, releasing me. I sat there, trembling uncontrollably with my head down. Tiny drops of sweat trickled down my face, neck, and arms, blending with the damp, freezing wall and floor. As the fog cleared and the pain subsided, a shed of manageable light spread inside my mind. A few thoughts pushed through, vague bits that I knew to be true, knew to have come from the very pulsing I felt inside me. I was Tom Riddle...whatever that meant, those words were a part of me. And I had been here before...in this very school.

"I'm taking you back to Dumbledore." The voice interrupted my thoughts, unwelcome and unwanted. I looked through my fingers up at Percy. He was standing now, his face gravely drawn. Worry was an emotion he seemed to have passed, now staring at me with a hint of fear. He tried to hide it, but I could smell the fear as it was carried across to me. Whether it was for me or me, I couldn't tell.

With the wall's support, I raised myself, swaying slightly. A protective, almost instinctive urge to defend myself rose at the sight of Percy, too base or slight to put into words or define. Mustering a smile, I lied, "It's just the headache. It was really sharp for a second, and caught me by surprise." I tried to make my voice as calm as possible. The last thing I needed was to stand out any more at the moment.

Percy still looked a bit dubious, but finally relaxed. "Still, we should get you back to Dumbledore. He might be able to help with the headache."

"Isn't that the same man who accepts poltergeists and monsters at his school?" I muttered under my breath.

"What was that?" Percy turned back to me.

I gave a wave. "Nothing. Let's go."

**

Percy kept a careful eye on Tom as he led the way to Dumbledore's office. The other boy had regained some composure and no longer seemed about to keel over. He walked slowly, with every move and muscle controlled. It was a calm attempt to force normalcy, one that Percy had himself been practicing all day. Tom carried it well; if he hadn't seen him almost have a seizure a moment ago, Percy would have bought it completely.

He also kept a watch out for Peeves, Slytherins, or anything else that might set either one of them off as he took them to the wall that led to Dumbledore's office and chambers. He knew the password to enter as well. It was nice, being a prefect, he thought, but with little enthusiasm at the moment. In silence, they reached the winding staircase elevator that led to Dumbledore's private rooms. Percy saw Tom smirk slightly. "What?"

There was a slight raise of the corner of Tom's mouth as he said, "Lemon drop?"

"Oh, the password. It's a type of food."

Tom was busy tracing a design in the wall. "I guessed as much." Looking at Percy's confused face, he explained, "The other night he seemed preoccupied with giving me candy."

Percy had to laugh a bit at that, even though he felt he had to defend his Headmaster. "Erm...Professor Dumbledore has quite an interest in food. In everything, really. Especially astronomy. Well, anyway, it's just a random word, meant to amuse, I think."

"Hilarious."

The dry, neutral tone made Percy's head tilt, studying Tom's pale, damp yet expressionless face. It was impossible for Percy to tell by either tone or expression if Tom had meant that or not. Still, another urge to defend his Headmaster rose inside Percy. "Most people think so."

Tom glanced at him then, and offered in a sincere tone, "I don't doubt they do. Take my word for it .How could I not find it creative? I was just wondering how you knew the password?"

Percy hurriedly answered him as the door approached above. "I'm a Prefect."

"I see. A nice privilege," was Tom's simple reply, leaving Percy unsure if Tom knew what a Prefect really was or not.

"It's a responsibility, more than anything," Percy replied, sounding a bit stiffer than he'd have liked.

The staircase finally ended, leaving them before a door with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin. At this sight, Tom turned to Percy and said, "Amusing, right?"

Taking it as a joke, Percy laughed and nodded. "Always amusing." He knocked and the door slowly opened. Entering, Percy had to smile, a bit smugly, as he saw Tom's eyes widen and look all around. Dumbledore's rooms were so packed one could spend hours in enchanted observance and still not see everything. Tom's eyes immediately focused on Fawkes, his brow crinkling slightly. Percy opened his mouth to explain, but they were cut short by the approach of McGonagall and Dumbledore.

At the sound of the Headmaster's voice, both boys' backs suddenly seemed to have a rod inserted in them. As they straightened up in stance, Dumbledore smiled slightly and said, "Minerva, if you would be so good as to stay with Tom for a moment, I wish to have a word with Mr. Weasley."

McGonagall gave her tight-lipped smile, but her voice was steady. "Of course, Albus." She gave Percy a grave smile as well, which Percy returned. He then nodded slightly at Tom and then followed Dumbledore to a small office off the main room.

He had never been in this office before. It was decorated mostly in red, with bright golden fixtures. There weren't any desks, only two plush couches, piles of books, and two overstuffed dressers. It appeared to be a mini-library of sorts.

Dumbledore motioned him to sit down, asking, "Can I get you anything?"

Percy shook his head. "No, Sir."

"Very well." Dumbledore took the couch across from him, leaning in. "How did the day go?"

Immediately, a guilty look crept across Percy's face as he forced himself to admit, "Ginny came up." It was said stiffly, with a touch of misery and confusion balled inside the contriteness coating the words.

Dumbledore, however, didn't seem at all surprised. "Did she? Well, I suspected it would be nearly impossible for her not to have."

"But Professor Snape made it clear she shouldn't come up," Percy answered, guilt still evident in his tone over his perceived failure.

"An admirable goal in theory, but hardly practical." Dumbledore spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and somehow hearing him say it made Percy agree. Seeing the Headmaster smile gently, Percy returned it weakly as the Dumbledore continued. "Now don't concern yourself with that. I am sure you are doing a worthy job on all accounts. Please go on."

Percy took a deep breath and recounted the day. "After we left Professor Snape's, we were going to Charms when we ran into Mr. Malfoy. He really tried to interrogate Tom." Again, Percy paused. Once he thought about it, he seemed to really be doing a shoddy job watching over Tom.

Again, Dumbledore didn't seem taken aback or upset with him. "And how did that go?"

"Tom didn't seem to like it. We left pretty quickly and went to Charms. He wanted to know a lot about the Malfoys, because Mr. Malfoy questioned him so much, I suspect." Looking at Dumbledore, his theory was neither confirmed nor denied. "Anyway, the rest of the day I told him about anything trivial I could think of, as you suggested. I even talked about Quidditch... that was amusing."

Dumbledore smiled at that. "And what did he think?"

"He... found it as useless as I. Of course, that might have been due to the way I presented it. I could tell he wanted to talk about more relevant things. He kept asking about my family, and the school. I told him I wasn't in any position to answer him. We kept getting interrupted by well-wishers. By the time we got to dinner neither one of us were in the best spirits. Then Harry and Oliver came over -" Percy stopped there and asked Dumbledore anxiously, "Am I giving you the right details?"

At that, Dumbledore leaned over and patted him on the shoulder. "You are doing exactly what I asked. Thank you. Please go on."

"All right." Percy took a deep breath and continued. "Well, Oliver wished me well using a ludicrous Quidditch example, but it was nice. And then Harry brought up Ginny..." Percy couldn't keep out the slight tremor in his voice at her name, but he pushed over it by focusing on his task. "Harry's exact words were, 'It was Tom here that did everything. He was the one in the chamber with Ginny. He stopped the Basilisk.'"

Confusion rose in his voice, but Percy went on. "We all looked at Tom then, and he appeared like he was about to faint. He was holding his head, and when he finally snapped back and looked back at us, he said he was tired and almost ran away. I followed him, and found him talking to Peeves, who was about to say something to him when I shooed him off. He did tell Tom he knew him, but I told Tom he couldn't trust Peeves. We talked for a bit, and then he seemed to almost have a seizure."

Dumbledore leaned in at that. His eyes stayed locked on Percy's as they had been throughout the entire exchange, but they seemed even sharper at that moment. "Pardon me, but what were you specifically speaking about right then?"

Of course he would want more details about that part. Internally, he berated himself for that mistake, desperate to make up for it. Percy replayed the moment carefully in his mind before replying, "We were talking about Peeves, and Tom was wondering why the school kept him and monsters here. I asked him where he heard that, before realizing that he was talking about what Harry had said about the Basilisk. Tom's reply confirmed this. He said, 'The boy with the scar.' Then his head almost snapped back. He seemed to have trouble breathing, and his eyes rolled back for a second. It was like a struggle, almost. Then he was fine, but I told him I was taking him to see you. He didn't object."

Percy was itching to know what Dumbledore thought about the attack Tom had, but knew it was unlikely he would give him any answers. Indeed, the Headmaster didn't, merely asking, "Anything else?"

Percy shook his head. "He finds your password and knocker amusing." At least, Percy thought he did.

Dumbledore had a slight look of delight on his face. "Oh he does? Well, good. Amusement is always enjoyable. Anyway, thank you, Mr. Weasley. You have an excellent memory."

"I work at it, Sir." Percy said this before realizing how odd it might seem. He braced himself for the same snicker such remarks out of him usually earned him, but Dumbledore only said, "An admirable tool to work at. Thank you, Percy." He smiled warmly again, and Percy relaxed under his gaze. A moment of silence passed, as Dumbledore's eyes turned even more concerned and gentle. "I understand Ginny's funeral is tomorrow."

Percy took a deep breath and forced composure. "Yes, Sir. I was going to leave on the first train in the morning, and be back by tomorrow night, if you need me."

Dumbledore shook his head, his hand resting on Percy's shoulder. "Stay over tomorrow night if your family needs you, which I am quite sure they do. We will make do here. Of course, when you get back, I might still have you accompany Tom about the castle. His memory recovery most likely will not be easy, and I think you might be a good guide for him. Come see me when you return and we can decide how to proceed."

Percy stood up and gave Dumbledore a small smile. "Any way I can be helpful, Sir."

At that, Dumbledore paused a moment before rising. He came over to Percy and gave him a gentle clasp on the shoulder. "You have always been helpful, Percy. Please realize how much we appreciate you."

Right. I really feel appreciated when my own brothers mock me, my classmates call me Perfect Percy, and my own parents are completely bewildered with and now ashamed of me, Percy thought. Even if he believed that Dumbledore meant it, he knew that he didn't speak for anyone else. Still, he responded, "Yes, Sir." It felt good to let himself believe that at least one person needed him.

**

I walked around Dumbledore's office, followed by McGonagall's eyes. I paused in front of the red-colored bird. I cocked my head, and he cocked his back, mimicking me with a perfection that vaguely disturbed me, though I couldn't pinpoint exactly why. We stared at each other for a moment as I asked, "What is this?"

Behind me, I heard McGonagall pause before saying, "It's a phoenix."

Phoenix. My mind didn't come up with any information relating to such a creature. "Is it magical?" I turned to her.

Her face was tight, but she met my gaze steadily as she replied, "It has magical qualities." Even though her voice was completely neutral, I got the impression she didn't want to converse.

Our eyes held each other's gaze briefly before I tried a different advance. "Did I know you?" I asked, approaching. She didn't flinch, but her eyes were guarded.

"Not exactly," was her reply. I nodded slowly, and at that she hesitated before adding, "I'm sure you must be sick of hearing that. But Dumbledore said it was for the best."

"I see. Has he dealt with this before?" I questioned.

"Well, no. But with everything he has gone through and dealt with, he is more than equipped to deal with this. I trust him. You should as well," she informed me with confidence in her tone.

"Right. I'll try to remember that," I replied, giving her a smile.

Despite herself, she gave a grudging hint of a smile back before saying, "You would do well to."

Just then Dumbledore and Percy came back into the room. Glancing at McGonagall and me, he said, "Goodbye, Professor. Tom. See you soon, maybe."

"Goodbye, Percy. Thank you. I'll try to get by without you until then. We don't drink from the bottles marked poison, do we?" I threw back at him. He smiled and shook his head, to which I replied, "No? Very well, then. I should be fine."

Dumbledore cleared his throat and said, "Goodnight, Percy. Minerva, could you send Severus to wait up here? Thank you. Tom, if you wouldn't mind following me?" He led me into the same room the he had occupied with Percy. He motioned for me to sit down.

As I sat I asked, "Where is he going? His sister's funeral?" When Dumbledore glanced at me, I continued, "This girl Ginny is his sister, right? And she died?"

I watched his slow movements as he answered me. "Yes, that is where he is going. It is thoughtful of you to be concerned with Percy," Dumbledore said as he sat opposite me.

I shrugged. "Don't have much else to occupy my thoughts at present."

A slight smile curled up his lips. "Good to see you still have your sense of humor," Dumbledore answered.

"Good to know I had one in the first place." Exhausted, the words flew out before I thought to censure them. I almost cringed at hearing them, staring at Dumbledore to try and gauge his reaction. He was just sitting there patiently. I cursed myself internally and said, "I'm sorry if that seemed rude, Sir."

Dumbledore kept his smile in place while he shook his head. "Not at all. I can only imagine how trying this day has been." I didn't know how to respond to that, so I just sat still. He continued, "I have something for you."

I looked at him quizzically. "For me?"

Dumbledore nodded and stood up. He fetched a bag that sat next to a pile of maps and weights. Carrying it over, he handed it to me, saying, "You can't expect to live in those clothes, can you?"

I hadn't even thought about it. Glancing down, I found myself wearing clothing that seemed wrinkled beyond repair. Embarrassment welled inside as I realized that I had been out in public appearing so disheveled. Looking down to hide the flush, I opened the bag. Inside were several articles of clothing. Staring from them to him I asked, "Where did you get these?"

Dumbledore smiled again and sat back down. "I didn't have time to shop for or magic them, so one of our students kindly gave them."

"Why would they do that?" I asked.

My words gave Dumbledore pause before saying, "Because he wanted to help. He is about your size, and he has a good and giving heart. He didn't ask for any details, either, so don't worry."

"He'll probably figure it out when I start wearing them." I said, fingering the material.

"Probably. As I've said before about any big news: you are a secret, which means everyone knows at least part of the story," Dumbledore explained wryly. He watched me for a moment before adding, "The student's name is Cedric Diggory. He is in the Hufflepuff house. Sound familiar?"

I tried to think, but nothing came. I shook my head, saying, "No. I take it that it is like Gryffindor?" When he nodded, I said, "I'll have to thank him."

His voice was pleasantly calm. "I think you should. It will be good for you to meet him." Dumbledore then paused and said, "I would like to begin to work with you tonight, if that is alright with you."

No, I'd much rather remain an amnesiac. "Yes, Sir. I was hoping we would."

He gave me an odd smile at that, but it faded too rapidly for me to decipher. Before I could give in to any annoyance over it, he was speaking again. "Very well. First, I wish to discuss what happened tonight. Percy mentioned that you had some sort of fit in the hall."

I nodded, remembering the grasping voice. It really wasn't something I wished to return to. "I had a very bad headache."

"Is that all?" His voice was gentle, but the probing was evident.

I forced myself to meet his eyes. "I felt hot. And cold simultaneously. And I couldn't breathe." I tried to maintain calmness in my voice, but the memory gripped me, wrenching my gut and tightening my vocal cords. I didn't know what he would do about any of what he was hearing. His face was too impassive to read.

However, his tone was mild. "Devastating. I'm so very sorry you had to go through something like that. Would you like something to drink? No? Then please continue, if you can. Did you remember anything?"

I latched on to the possible implication of his last sentence. "Is that what that was? A memory flash?" I asked.

Dumbledore sat back and shrugged. "Perhaps. It is hard to tell exactly right now. Did you recall anything afterwards that felt true?"

Looking down, I felt my heart thudding erratically. "Maybe. I thought I remembered this school. It seemed familiar for a moment." Anticipating his next question, I added, "And it still does."

He calmly digested what I had said. "I see. Anything else?"

I heard voices that almost made me pass out. I felt my blood boil for no reason when talking about Peeves and the boy with the scar. The words crashed through my mind, but I had no intention of sharing them. After I had seen the terror in Percy's face, there was no way I was going to tell it as such to Dumbledore. I tried to find a way around it. "I think I was trying to remember."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"I think I was telling myself to remember. I mean, I do wish to remember." Conveniently, I neglected to add the hostility that had been present in the chilling voice. I was just overwhelmed, I told myself. Everyone already was staring at me in suspicion, curiosity, or pity. I didn't need to add 'insane' to everyone's view of the amnesiac in their midst.

Dumbledore pursed his lips, thinking. "That is possible. Memory is a powerful part of the mind. And I have no doubt of how strongly you wish to get your memory back."

I sat up at that, and tried to push the other thoughts from my mind. "So can you tell me about myself then? Make me remember?"

Sighing, Dumbledore leaned over. "It is not that simple, Tom. My feeding you your past won't be the same as your memory. We must teach your mind to reverse the charm, to uncover your past. Only from you can you know for certain what is memory and not."

That made sense, unfortunately. He seemed to be truthful. I doubted he would have been this willing if I had told him everything, just as I was sure that he had other things he was keeping from me. Once my memory was recovered, I could figure out the rest. "That makes sense. How do we do this, then?"

Smiling at my eagerness, he said, "You do realize that this is going to take more than one night?"

"Possibly not," I responded, my jaw jutting out stubbornly as he stared at me.

"Some things never change," he commented, and then said, "Lie down." I did so as he bustled around before approaching me. In his hand he carried several crystals. Holding a pale pink one before me, he said, "I want you to stare into this until you see a red dot in the center. That will mean that your mind has focused. It might take--"

"I see it," I responded.

Dumbledore made a sound at that deep in his throat. "Very well. Keep the vision of the dot in your mind, and close your eyes. I am placing a seeking stone on your forehead; it will help guide your mind in the questioning. Understand?"

"I am managing to follow."

"Good. We will begin slowly. Think of something that seems familiar."

"The school."

"Be more specific."

"You."

"...Very well. What is familiar about me?"

"Everything. Be more specific, I know. Your voice. Your eyes. Your movements. Your words."

"Alright. Focus on one."

"Your voice."

"Excellent."

"Thank you."

"What is familiar about my voice?"

"The sound. The cadence. The intonation."

"Focus on -"

"The sound."

"Good. What familiar thought or feeling does the sound bring? ...Tom? What familiar thought -"

"Nothing's coming!"

"Patience. Breathe and relax. Good. Refocus."

"All right. The sound."

"Right. Listen to my voice now. Now try to remember it. Play it in your mind. Pick a word, and say it internally. What word is it?"

"Tom Riddle. I know, its two words."

"That's fine. Interesting. Then what image does it bring up? What thought or feeling?"

"Dislike. The feeling."

"On whose part?"

"I don't know."

"Try to associate it with an image. Hear me saying Tom Riddle. What does that bring to mind?"

"A classroom. You taught here?"

"Don't ask. Remember."

"That was the intent."

"I know, Mr. Riddle."

"...Say that again."

"Mr. Riddle."

"Again."

"Mr. Riddle."

"Again."

"...Mr. Riddle."

"You taught here. You taught me. I was in your classroom. You called everyone by his or her last names in class. You said my name almost rolling the 'r' when I got something right."

"...Yes, yes I did, Tom. I -"

Just then a loud crash was heard in the adjacent room, followed by Snape's angry yell. Another voice, one heavily accented and apologetic, was also heard. "Sorry, Professor Snape. I have to see Professor Dumbledore ri' now!"