The Broken Victory

Chapter 10: Promises Are Made to Be Broken

Voices swam somewhere next to me. In and out they faded, sometimes so loud they made me cringe, other times so faint they seemed little more than a breeze. Heaviness followed, a sensation weighing me down and pulling me back into the safety of sleep. I almost let it. But then a bright light was thrust into my face. The voices became more persistent, bearing down straight at me. I struggled awake, my head aching terribly. I forced my eyes open only to feel them tear at the abrupt shock of the brightness. A rush of heat ran throughout my body, followed by a sudden chill. It was the feeling that one experiences right before throwing up. I swallowed repeatedly, desperately trying to prevent that humiliation. I looked around, moving only my eyes, trying to find something to divert my attention from my stomach and head. Simple facts seemed the easiest to try and focus on.

I was in the infirmary. That I could tell by the starkness of my surroundings. The nurse, Madame Drawt, was hovering stiflingly close on one side of me. On the other side were Dippet, Dumbledore, and Thistle. They were all talking extremely heatedly and loudly, ignoring me completely. I shut my eyes, sweating yet trembling at the same time. Images kept flashing back at me. Bright eyes staring, harsher than the lamp shining scorchingly above me. I tried to kick the scratching covers off me, but the motion only made me feel queasier. My movement went noticed, and suddenly the chattering around me ceased.

"Tom?" Nurse Drawt said tentatively, putting her frigid hand against my flushed cheek. The contact sent chills through me. She continued speaking, eying me worriedly, "Do you feel all right?"

I didn't have the energy to be smart or lie. Gulping, I rasped, "No! I'm going to be sick!" Everyone just stared at me for a moment, taking in visually what I felt, and then sprang into motion. Dippet moved back, protecting his suit, while Nurse Drawt went looking for some magic purge bucket. I sat upright, shaking, trying to compel my rebelling stomach into submission. I had never been willing to show myself as sick in public before. With the Headmaster and professors there, I fought valiantly. Unfortunately, just as Nurse Drawt was returning, I lost the battle. A sudden convulsion racked me, and I threw up all over the bed and myself.

For a moment after that, I heard nothing. I refused to look up, my eyes welling in humiliation. I sat with my knees drawn up and wrapped my arms around them. Then I rested my head on my hands, as much for comfort as to bring myself under control. I vaguely heard the Nurse shooing everyone out, then placing the bucket gingerly at the foot of my bed. Dippet and Thistle voiced their concerns for me as they exited, neither coming within three feet of my actual personage. Dumbledore put up a protest, and I could hear him and the Nurse arguing outside. She was insisting it was the flu, as Dippet had said. I didn't hear the rest of the conversation. My stomach was acting up again. In privacy now, I retched until I had nothing left inside me. Finally, I sat back. Winded and drenched, I watched in mild fascination as the bucket I had used magically became spotless. Eventually the Nurse came back in, carrying a change of clothing for me. Dully, I pulled them on.

"Tom?" That voice made me look up. Dumbledore had reentered. He stood in the doorway, the worn white ridging framing his tall physic. He tossed me a new blanket. As I spread it around me, he approached. Towering over me, I had to crane my neck to look up at him as he spoke. "Can I speak with you for a moment?"

"Of course, sir," I responded. I fought to make my voice and posture as proper as I could, to belie how I felt. I laid the pillow against the cold headboard and sat upright, staring at him. His clothing had changed as well. No longer dressed in the dark red dress robe with black velvet trimmings, he was now clad in his old blue work robes. He took off his old dropping hat and carefully placed it on the small table beside my bed. He didn't look at a loss for words; rather, he seemed about to overflow with them and had to sort out how to begin. I sympathized with that feeling. Right now everything was colliding inside my head so fast I couldn't sort out a coherent thought if my life depended upon it.

Finally, Dumbledore said, "Interesting night." I nodded my agreement, still at a loss for words. He continued, "There has been a great deal on my mind about you these past two months, Mr. Riddle. I don't have so many answers as I do...uncertainties."

My throat tightened, but I croaked out, "I'm not doing it on purpose, these things. I swear to God." The swear slipped out. It was something I'd heard at the orphanage often enough that it was engrained in my subconscious. I grimaced internally at that, chastising myself and fervently promising never to use it again under any circumstances.

Dumbledore gave me an odd look in response to my words. "Well, good for that," he muttered. Then, clasping his hands behind his back, he added lowly, "How to go about this? It should be Dippet, really, but he told me to handle it. Well, Mr. Riddle, we'll start at the beginning, shall we? Always a good place. Now, what did you see tonight?"

"A man...I think... I saw a tall man, more of a skeleton, really. He had markings on his body. They seemed to have something, maybe blood, oozing out of him." I tried to push my thoughts into order, rubbing my aching forehead.

Dumbledore was persistent, though he thankfully kept his voice soft. "What else did the man look like? And what symbols were they? Have you seen this before?"

"I-I'm not sure," My brain was foggy and any memories I had of the figure were fading fast. I looked at Dumbledore helplessly. "I can't remember."

Dumbledore leaned over me, urging me on with his voice. "Try, Tom. I know it is hard, but it is very important."

I closed my eyes, willing for once the visions to return. My voice trembling, I whispered, "The mark was - a serpent's head, with crossbones - it was covering the man - the thing - sometimes it's a skull with a white snake wiggling, and there's a thick dark beard..."

Dumbledore sucked in a deep breath, and then said encouragingly, "Good, Tom. Keep going, what else did you see?"

I squeezed my eyes tight, grasping. "And there was an image on the floor. It was of a snake man. I mean, first it was me, I think, but then it became this half snake-half man creature. And it was laughing." Sweat broke out all over me. "I heard the laughing before, when I had the image of the phoenix dying - it did die in my other vision, at my first flying lesson - the laughter was malicious and smug, as if it knew something I didn't-" I broke out of the memories, panting. I looked at Dumbledore with pleading eyes. "Please don't make me try anymore."

He seemed lost in his own thoughts, saying to himself, "I suspected." Silence ensued for a couple of seconds, then he responded, "I won't press you further, though if you remember anything else, come to me immediately." He toyed with his beard, staring into space before continuing. "I don't know if I should be telling you this, but perhaps you should know. The man that you saw, the one with the symbols, I suspect is Grindelwald. Are you familiar with him?"

I'd heard little rumblings about that name. Slowly I nodded, and Dumbledore continued. "I don't know how he found you. Although, he is a great Seer and Legilimens. And, with your ability, I shouldn't be so surprised. With his following and talents, I am sure he has the same ability to detect potential students as we do."

"So he is trying to get to me, with these visions?" I asked slowly, fear rising.

Dumbledore gave me a soothing smile that didn't quite work. "To be honest, I am not sure. He has never attracted students quite this way before. In the past, he usually comes right up to them, offers them the chance to join him, and then either takes them or kills them if they refuse. Subtlety is not his suit."

"So why is he behaving differently with me?" I inquired, nervously twisting my chain. Its edges were worn smooth by now.

Dumbledore sighed, and then told me, "Tom, your potential was apparent from the beginning. From the time we first noticed you, your magic ability radiated. Never have we seen someone with so clear a capability. Later, when you came here, it became apparent how gifted you were in other things, and intellectually speaking, you have astounded us as well. We were hoping the fact that you were raised Muggle would deter Grindelwald from noticing you. But perhaps your ability isn't such a handicap."

"I'm not following you," I said irritably. "And I don't think it's me."

At that he gave a sad laugh. "No, I don't doubt I'm not making much sense. Even I am not completely sure what I am saying, or thinking. But ponder this - why would Grindelwald be sidestepping you in this manner? If he is trying to enter your mind, which I do not put past his ability to do on most, then why? Does he feel you are to be too valuable an asset to do away with, but he doesn't think a straight offer to join him will work? Or is it to test you, or control you? To compare you with him, in a way?" He gave a slight pause, then said, "Is there some reason he feels drawn to you, to taunt you with visions of snake-men and such? Or it is purely to rattle you, to make you submit to him?"

At those questions all my terror returned. My mouth dry I said, "I was - I was wondering about that. Is that possible, for him to control me?"

I don't know if Dumbledore caught the fright in my voice. His face tightened, as if he were berating himself for saying so much. In response to my questions he merely shrugged and said, "I don't know for certain. If he is trying, he's having quite the hard time of it, isn't he?"

I tried to laugh, remembering the unicorn incident. I had won that one, hadn't I?

Dumbledore continued. "However, Tom, magic works in many ways. Especially for those as gifted as you." He didn't sound all that admiring as he said that, and continued, "I have little doubt that if he knows of you, Grindelwald would have something in mind. Young recruits are impressionable and excellent targets. But just as strong as dark magic is, there are ways of defending it that are just as primal and powerful. Do not believe in him, should he say otherwise."

I jerked my head up at that, and saw Dumbledore smiling at me. He nodded at the cross I was fingering, and I irritably shoved my hand down. "I only believe in myself," I said. A moment of silence ensued after that.

Eyes quietly watching me, he took his time before responding. "If there's one person everyone should believe in, it's themselves," Dumbledore finally said, rising. Did he always talk in riddles? I watched him pace, a question suddenly springing to my mind.

"Why do you know so much about Grindelwald?" At my comment he stopped, spinning slowly to face me. A twisted, uncomfortable look came over his face, deepening the walls over his eyes.

"That is a long story. One I'm as keen to go into it as you are about your past." He paused at that and watched at me. I remained motionless, telling him without words that his comment hadn't affected me at all. If anything, I understood where he was coming from more than ever. My hand subconsciously reached for my chain, diverting only when I caught myself at the last minute. Instead I pushed back my matted hair, as Dumbledore bade me goodnight.

He seemed ready to leave when I suddenly recalled what I desired to tell him.

"Professor? I remember something---it was the same man I saw at the Leaky Cauldron, when I first met you. He was surrounded by a group of people in robes, with symbols like his---they were chanting something. And his laugh--I've heard it several times, when I feel angry...and maybe at the orphanage..." I hated mentioning that. It made it seem like I'd been close to this darkness for so long and kept it to myself.

My head dropped, and I was afraid to look at him. Afraid he was going to look right back at me in horror and disgust, say I was a demon and risk to the other children and should be cast out. Hearing no loathing snort from him, I raised my head. And he looked back at me not with contempt. But I didn't find kindness there, either. His eyes held the same cautionary interest, guarded but at least not accusing. He merely said, "Thank you, Tom. That is helpful. Anything else?"

No longer as terrified, I shut my eyes again and tried to recall. "And there was a boy, too. He was at the Leaky Cauldron, and here tonight. Grindelwald was trying to kill him, and I - I think I was trying to help him."

Dumbledore looked slightly more interested at that. "Did you recognize him? Did he have any special markings?"

I tried hard, but came up with nothing. "No, I don't think I know him. He was just a just a child. I don't think there was anything remarkable looking about him that I can remember. He was just a child. Maybe his eyes were green? He seemed to be normal. Maybe he represents all the children that Grindelwald is after? I can't think of anything else."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "That seems a reasonable interpretation." With that, he smiled at me. "Don't worry about it, Tom. As hard as it is for you, you must trust us. We don't turn our backs on our students. We shall deal with this, I promise you." He moved to turn out the light, and in the darkness I heard him softly add, "And I never break a promise."

For a long time after I lay in the darkness. I was exhausted and aching, but my mind wouldn't let my rest. I worried that I had left something out, for my thoughts had all been so jumbled and incoherent I couldn't remember even what order anything had occurred. Was this an aftereffect of the visions, or something else? Either way, the episodes were getting worse, and I despised just lying there waiting for the next one to happen. Making up my mind, I swung my legs over the side, grabbing the railings desperately as dizziness swept over me. Thankfully I didn't become nauseous, and after a minute I could rise. In the dark I fumbled to the nearest chair where I had thrown my ruined robed. Finding my wand, I whispered, "Lumos!" immediately a bright band of light hovered before me. Shielding its brightness with my hands, I found my scuffed shoes, slipped into them, and checked the door. I heard snoring, and I hoped that this meant Nurse Drawt was asleep. I edged my way carefully around her semicircular desk that decorated with bright flowers. She snorted once, but otherwise remained unconscious.

Once outside, I had no clue where to head. It was long after everyone else had gone to bed. I was afraid that Tibald, the caretaker, would catch me. He was a small, wiry man with eyes like a hawk. He distrusted most everyone and everything, and took immense pride in his job. I suppose he found catching people breaking the rules worthwhile. I found it a sad way to fill a life with meaning, but outwardly I remained pleasant to him. He seemed to like me, all though he had little interest in magic. I wondered why on earth he was then working at a magic school, but there he was, always underfoot. Warily, I remained on the lookout for him.

I stayed close to the walls where the shadows hid me, feeling my way along with one hand on the stone corridor to guide me. I extinguished my light, and my eyes soon adjusted to the darkness around. I crept along, not really knowing where I was going, until I felt a familiar brush of chills rush through me. A cackling sound rang from above, and I grimaced internally. Raising my head, I was the recipient of Peeves the poltergeist's snarling smile.

"A student out of bed? Tisk tisk. What shall I do with this?" Peeves spun around, putting his bluish finger to his chin in mock contemplation. His mouth was disgusting to look at, and he let it hang open in front of me.

I gritted my teeth, and then said in a forceful whisper, "Peeves, I'm just leaving the Nurse's. I was just going to my room, so leave me alone."

Peeves laughed louder. "Oh, you can't really expect me to believe that, can you, my hallucinating Parseltongue?" At that my eyes widened, and his grin became meaner. "Didn't think I knew about that, did you? Well, you really should be more careful in those Slytherin dormitories. You can't be sure who is lurking behind those walls - or in them."

"Peeves, I haven't a clue what you are talking about. I'm going to bed," I said calmly, wishing furiously that he were alive right now so I could kill him. I started to go, but he blocked my way again. Not wanting to feel the chill from walking through him, I sighed and consented to having to listen.

He floated upside down, lolling his tongue at me. "I wonder what your friends in Slytherin would say if they knew about all this. Quite the risk." At my loathing stare, he sighed and said, "Oh yes, you haven't gotten any real friends, now have you? I doubt this news would make them any keener on you."

Fed up, I finally pushed through him, my fists clenched. Yet his next comment made me pause. He called out, "It certainly didn't make Dippet or Dumbledore think any better of you. They are all afraid that you'll go bad. So sad. There must be something about you that makes them so concerned. Only they are more afraid about you than for you...boo-hoo."

I finally turned, and seeing my expression Peeves added innocently, "What, you can't really have believed that they were afraid for you, could you? Poor child. No, afraid of you, of what you might become, but not for you. The last Parseltongue was the insane Salazar Slytherin. And now you're called by the Dark Lord Grindelwald---doesn't instill much confidence in those who know about you,"

I couldn't take it anymore. I spun and ran away, trying to block out Peeves' laughing final words, "Don't take my word for it, go and see for yourself, you little g -!" I shut out his voice, not hearing the end of his last remark. I turned the corner, not really knowing where I was heading. It certainly wasn't in the direction of the Slytherin rooms, nor the library. I just ran, no longer afraid of Tibald, but of myself. Part of me wanted to shove off Peeves' comments. I knew he said them just to be spiteful, but I couldn't shake the truth I'd heard. My mind was throbbing in time to my heartbeat, and I kept wandering lost in thought. Finally I heard voices. Quickly I slunk into the shadows, hiding myself behind a statue of a dragon.

Holding my breath, I waiting before realizing the voices were coming from behind a closed door. Cursing my foolishness, I was about to leave again when I noticed that the door belonged to Dippet. I stood uncertain for a moment, and then pressed my ear against the door. I crushed it hard against the wood. A voice clarifying or amplifying charm could be of use, but I didn't want to take the risk. So I just stood there pressed, breathing shallowly, and waited.

The voices sounded far away and muffled. It took me a moment to figure out that they belonged to Dippet, Dumbledore, Thistle, and Zwipp. My heart beat faster. The Headmaster, Deputy Headmaster, Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and the head of Slytherin all meeting. It had to be about me. I listened closely.

Dippet was speaking mid sentence. "---is his fault?"

Dumbledore's voice came next. "The symbol he described is the mark of Grindelwald. And the meaning of the phoenix dying, that must symbolize the end of his resurrection. The final, definitive change in this part of history, for all of us. I believe that the final battle of Grindelwald is approaching---though how it will end I have no clue."

Zwipp's annoyed voice came next. "Damn it, Albus, enough of your inane dream analysis! I swear you grow battier than Grindelwald everyday. Anyone could tell you that a final break in the war must be close. The amount of hate he has instilled in his followers means they must act soon. And after us, the Muggles will be easy enough to destroy should he decide to. They're but a second away from war themselves. It doesn't take a boy's fantasies to tell us this."

Dumbledore's voice turned cold. I could picture his eyes clouding. "Riddle is not just any boy, Zwipp." My eyes widened, and I crushed against the door closer if possible. Dumbledore continued. "You'd do good to get over your advanced potions and realize that there is so much more to magic that even we do not understand. I have no doubt that Grindelwald is close to us. If he isn't aware of Tom yet, he will be soon. The boy has incredible ability; you see the power in him. How could Grindelwald not want him? Even I wonder at certain thing's I've seen..." his voice trailed off and my chest clenched, think of the paper he had seen. Was he thinking of the similarities between myself and Salazar?

Thistle finally spoke up. "But then is this the safest place for him to be, Armando? For any of the children? I can't see Tom as a dark wizard, but if there is the slightest possibility--"

"Then Grindelwald will have an undefeatable advantage." Dippet finished for her. Then he sighed heavily, saying in frustration, "How could this be, Albus? Tom is only eleven!"

Dumbledore's answer silenced my heart. In a level tone he said, "How could it not be him? Think about it, sir! A wizard of Tom's capabilities comes around once in an eternity. The only one in history that had his intellectual and magical abilities that I can think of is Merlin, our great protector and modern magic father. Do you actually think that it is a coincidence that Tom is here with us now?"

"There he goes again with his mystical nonsense," Zwipp muttered.

Dippet cut him off. "So what are you trying to tell us, Albus? That Tom is some - some instrument?" I heard Dippet and Zwipp chuckle at this.

Dumbledore's next comment was cold. "No, I don't believe he is merely an instrument for some great plan or prophecy hidden in some walls. His being is like everyone else's, part fate and part luck, and ultimately his. But I do think that Tom might be considered a rare opportunity by some such as Grindelwald. We should be grateful that we got to him first - I don't know how we managed to. If it is part of Grindelwald's plan, we have to act now, and hope that Tom is up to it. I don't believe that anyone is immune to Grindelwald's offer, least of all someone who grew up as Tom did."

I almost choked. What did Dumbledore mean by that? That because I was half-Muggle and grew up a poor orphan, that I was more likely to turn out a dark wizard? Just because I didn't have the all-knowing morality of Dumbledore growing up didn't mean I was a slave to whatever anyone threw at me. If he thought this about me, I would show him how wrong he was.

My anger made me miss Dumbledore's next comment. I cursed myself, and then resumed struggling to hear.

It was now Dippet. "That is true, Albus. But I have faith in Tom. He is our most promising student. Yes, I know that does not account for everything, but it does say a great deal about him. And he did decide to come here. I think we should be grateful he is under our guidance, and take this one step at a time. Keeping everything orderly and providing a secure learning environment will be our best way of protecting and guiding Tom, and keeping him and the others away from Grindelwald."

After he said that, everyone began to say their farewells. I hurriedly rushed out to avoid being caught, though I wanted to hear what else they were saying. I didn't stop until I reached the Slytherin rooms. I stopped outside the entrance, panting, and sat down. I curled up in the dark, and ran over what I had heard, trying to have it make sense to me. So they were afraid of me---well, at least Dumbledore was. And they did see me as some kind of freak. A powerful one that could be used. They would like me and keep me, as long as I did what they wanted. Breathing hard, my anger grew. Did they think if, left to myself, that I would jump at the first dark lord who offered me candy to join him?

I stood, the anger giving me energy. So Dumbledore would keep his promise to protect me, but only because he didn't trust me. At least, that was what it seemed like. It was the opposite of what life had been like at the Blunts. There I had been hurt and abandoned because of my unusual abilities. Here, I was protected and nurtured for them. But in both cases, I felt used, hurt and empty.

I still didn't fit in anywhere. If I didn't have the abilities I would still be with the Blunts, who hated my personality as much as they did my demon side. And because of my abilities I was accepted here, but none who knew me seemed to really care or like me. No, I amended that. It was possible my mother had cared, but she had been abandoned by my father for being who she was. My fists clenched. Maybe if she had been a stronger witch, she would have gotten more help from others in her community. Or she would have been used, and then discarded. Would I be tossed aside after Grindelwald was finished?

Salazar Slytherin's words in a caption about him rang through my head. True blood will show. I gripped this. If there were witches and wizards like my mother, I would accept them. But everyone else who used others and abused their power, I would stop. Dumbledore was right after all. I created a purpose, and I had the ability to bring it into being. Grindelwald was going to be crushed. And by me if I could. But I wasn't doing it for my unfeeling, frightened professors. My heart bled at the thought of how many times I had been the tool for someone else's pleasure at my own expense. No, no one used or controlled me and got away with it. And the only way to ensure this, I decided, was to be able to use them first.

Finally I reached the common rooms. All the Slytherins were still awake, and crowded in there. That mystified me, until I recalled what day it still was. I stood there a moment in the entrance, waiting for the others to recognize me. Everyone had been laughing and celebrating Halloween and Salazar's birthday, but one by one they silenced as they saw me. It was so quiet that I could hear a cup being dropped.

Damien broke the silence. Swaggering over, he said, "Well, if it isn't our mad Mudblood? They let you out of Mungo's already?"

I smiled back. "Yes, once they realized that I actually was helping them against Grindelwald at my own expense, they let me out. I expect a reward will be awaiting me tomorrow."

I started to walk through, but Damien stopped me. I noticed that Dash was not present. Damien looked me in the eye, and spit out, "Liar. We don't take kindly to those who act against their houses again."

I stared right back at him, seeing for the first time the uncertainty behind his façade. "Well, ask Zwipp, Dippet, Thistle, or even Dumbledore tomorrow. But I am hurt that you don't believe me. Excuse me, I have to go cry about this." I turned then, grinning at the laughter I caused. The only other one glowering was Cathleen.

Randy and Simon followed me into the dormitory. They were both staring at me wide eyed. Randy asked me in a nervous tone, "Everyone thought that you were dead."

"Really? And you still had a party. I feel loved." I went to remove my clothing, remembering that I had left the other ones in the hospital. I decided to shower later, too tired to do much more than pull on my gray flannel trousers and the loose shirt I slept in. I sat down on my bed, pushing Snicks over. He grumpily complied, and I removed my socks as Randy and Simon kept chattering.

Simon said, "It was the weirdest thing. Everyone is convinced that you were possessed. Half of the school is in awe of you, and the other half is terrified." He grinned nervously. "It's going around that you are some dark arts ploy, being used by Grindelwald to bring Hogwarts down."

I had been settling back, but because of his words I froze. I turned toward him slowly, and said darkly, "Nobody uses me." At that Simon and Randy gulped and hastily retreated. I turned the lights out and lay down, repeating those words to myself until sleep blissfully overtook me, "Nobody uses me."