The Broken Victory

Chapter 19: Karma Police

The feeling of success was indescribable. Love a summer day? I'd wager a fortune the bitterest winter hailstorm would be ignored if it occurred when you first conquered riding a bicycle. Friends were wonderful, yes? Do try and remember who was next to you when you were acing that test, winning that spelling bee, or saying your first word. Difficult, right? But I'd stake anything that you could recall the exact details of what subject that test was in, what the winning spelling was, or what word you first mumbled.

So even now, Dumbledore's words slid over my head as I focused on the impending success of my transfiguration into an Animagus. My hands were sweating profusely. This was one of the few times I was trying a spell in front of a professor before perfecting it first by myself. I don't know exactly why I waited. Perhaps because, despite everything, I might not have been able to reach this point without him. Transfiguration was the one area where the roles were clearly defined and not challenged between us. I knew he had worked just as hard for this as I had. He seemed to think this spell was especially important to my learning and was almost as eager as I to see the results. Whatever other reasons he had for caring, I didn't bother to ponder. I respected his ability in this field, and he had not held me back.

But I still wasn't going to listen to him talk me through it yet again. Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply, drawing my breath from every part of my body inward and up to my chest. There it settled, and I wrapped it around my thudding heart. Focusing on its rhythm, I cleared my mind except for what sprang to it from my heart. The pounding represented what I held most dear in myself, connecting my body to what shared my innate qualities in nature. I felt my basic essence rising inward and out, so it was as if no body existed to confine an outside force and me. In an instant, everything connected, and my shape morphed without my even feeling it happen. All I felt was the close bond of energy. It was a great moment of peace where I felt that, if it could only last a little longer, I would understand everything in the world. But alas, it only lasted a second, and the sole remnants of knowledge allowed came in the form that I had transfigured into.

My eyes opened, blinking. At first, all I saw were the funny, red shoes Dumbledore was wearing. They matched springtime, he claimed. I opened my mouth to speak and realized that I had no lips. Attempting to feel this new sensation with my hand, I drew up my arm only to get feathers in my face. Finally tuning in to what Dumbledore was saying, I looked at him to see excitement on his face. He held a mirror down to me, and I tremblingly approached.

A bird.

"A raven," Dumbledore elaborated. I could sense his eyes twinkling, though I was still staring at myself. The awe I was feeling was present in his voice as he whispered, "I know what all the animal symbols mean. A pastime of mine, really."

He spoke no further, prompting me to inquire, "What does the raven mean?" All that came out was a low squawk, but I hoped my intent would reach him. I still could not look away, marveling at the glossy, black sheen of my feathers, the glittering, granite eyes staring back.

I listened as Dumbledore said, "The raven symbolizes magic and mystery, oddly enough. The barest part of magic. Creation and initiation, change and control. The ability to heal, protect, and help, some say." I took note of that appendage he added to the definition, as if to not be liable should I not end up being a good source of healing, protection or help. Perhaps sensing his insult, Dumbledore quickly added, "It's hard to say. Shapeshifting is integral to its symbol. The balance between what is given and what one makes. Ability and choice, circumstance and decision." He paused a moment, as if unsure whether to continue. Finally he added, "I have never seen a raven before."

I was basking in the light of success by that time, but I perked up to his last statement. "Really? No one else but me?"

I turned to look at him for this response. His expression was strange. His eyes were fond, but his voice sorrowful. It was becoming more sorrowful by the day. "No one but you, Tom. It's all yours."

I flicked back to the mirror at that, watching the watchful eyes stare back in me. "It's all mine."

The feeling of success lasted about a day. At two the next afternoon, in Divination class, I was sitting, my temples throbbing, a profound sense of failure filling me over my last tutoring session that had just ended. Whatever thoughts I might have had about Dumbledore not out to sabotage me ended right then. By assigning me to tutor both Hagrid and Annie Weasley, I was convinced he was out to drive me insane.

Things had begun pleasantly enough. I met with them in the library, as usual. Simon came with me to tutor one of the Slytherin second years. Sniffing at the Gryffindors who sniffed right back, Simon and his tutee selected a table far away from us.

I turned to my pupils. Annie seemed to have got over her fear of Slytherins, for she now sat, arms crossed and leaning as far back away from me as possible. Her brown eyes narrowed frigidly on me. As if I cared.

Sitting across from them, I acknowledged Hagrid's cautious smile with a wincing one. While Hagrid was wary of the Slytherins, I often wished he would exhibit it through the same frosty silence as Annie. Unfortunately, he still spoke. "Hullo, Tom, how did the Transfigmortations go?"

I looked at him in surprise, managing to decipher his mangled words. "Who told you about the Transfiguration?"

Hagrid looked nervous, as if he just realized he shouldn't have known about it. "Erm, Professor Dumbledore talked about it. Said it was amazing."

I was unable to hold back a smile of delight. "Really? He said amazing?"

Even Annie nodded ruefully. "When we asked why you were tutoring us, he said it was because you were the best student in it. Not that we were supposed to tell you that, though," she finished, shooting Hagrid a glare under which he melted.

I shrugged, saying good naturedly, "News gets around fast. And I can always use the ego stroke. Anyway, let's begin, shall we? What do you want to start with?"

Annie drew her Charms book out. I really didn't know why she needed tutoring. Other than a bit of trouble memorizing, she seemed capable enough. Hagrid, though, was another story. He was a mixture of boundless enthusiasm and utter absurdity. He tried hard but horribly mixed up almost everything he set his mind to. Even in Care for Magical Creatures, his best subject by far, he got into trouble because he heeded no warnings from the professor. I could easily see that blinded eagerness coming to smack him in the face later.

Annie flipped open her book, explaining, "We have a test in Charms this week. It's going to be partly essay and partly actual spellwork." Her face scrunched up in worry. "I'm nervous about remembering all the words. There are so many charms! I won't be able to remember them all. I just won't." Her last words were almost a wail.

I gave a cursory look at her book. The amount of charms that needed to be memorized was indeed lengthy. I understood the frustration Annie felt. It must be a tremendous amount of pressure, coming from such a long line of Hogwarts alumni as the Weasley family did. It was hard enough accepting she would never be the best of the lot, but possibly being the worst had to be inconceivable. She was desperate; that much I could tell. I took pity on her. "Does Bill have his old tests?"

Annie peaked at me over her fists, a wary look on her face. "Why?"

I shrugged. "Not all the charms will be on your test. Ten, maybe fifteen. You could study Bill's old exam, get an idea of what charms might be on there."

Hagrid looked horrified. "That's-that's cheating, isn't it?" He could hardly say the word.

I fought not to roll my eyes. "Not really. Sure, some of the charms may be the same, but if she makes a new test, they won't all be identical to the old test. But at least, if you memorize those, you'll be sure to get some right. And, if she doesn't make a new test, then whose fault is that, really? I mean, it's the same charms in the book as on the old test that you would be studying. And, if they so happen to be the same, well, you can't help it if she is too busy to make new tests. Old tests are common study material."

Hagrid's eyes showed confusion between the sense I was making and the strict moral absolute he had obviously grown up with. Annie, however, took keen notice of my rationale. "It's not under the anti-cheating spell, is it?"

"No. Like I said, it's not cheating."

Hagrid finally piped up. "Have you ever done it?"

I shook my head. "Never needed to." Realizing how arrogant that sounded, I added, "But others have. I wouldn't bring it up to any professor, though. It might get the teacher who gives the same tests year after year in trouble, and we wouldn't want that."

The thought of implicating a teacher in a bad way made Hagrid shudder. "Merlin, no!"

Annie smiled knowingly at me. "No, indeed. My lips are sealed." She left soon after that, proclaiming a headache. I saw her head toward the Gryffindor common room, leaving me alone with Hagrid. Since he was still against the old test method, we plowed through his books the old-fashioned way. I recited things of importance in the book to him, and he faithfully took notes. However, a sheen had come over his open eyes when he looked at me. Before he had always held my gaze with a sense of uncertainty as to what I was about. Now a decisive, if faint, guard was up, although he tried to act normal. Putting on facades was not Hagrid's forte. I felt a guard going up as well. There was nothing Hagrid was capable of holding over me, since I had just made a suggestion. But the breach was there, nonetheless, and self-preservation always came first.

But I still felt like I had failed in convincing Hagrid. I really didn't see what was wrong with using the old tests. The ones on it were the most important, or they wouldn't have been the ones picked. There was plenty of time to learn the other ones, and besides, most people never used all the charms they learned at school. But Hagrid, stubborn, eager, Dumbledore loving Hagrid, found my beliefs at fault. Wrong. Incorrect. Not the best course of action. He would rather fail than take my advice. He, Hagrid, would rather do his own thing than listen to me, Tom. Like there was some reasoning he could see that I couldn't. Something he understood that I didn't. He, a joke, and me, Lord Voldemort.

Simon leaned over and whispered to me across the crystal ball between us, "What's wrong, Tom? You look ready to kill someone. Need any worms?" Simon knew about my Animagus and, of course, was smug about it.

I shook my head. "Nothing, I just hate Divination." The professor, Lydia Peepling, was an attractive, if vain, Veela, who never saw anything other than male attraction to her. Her silvery hair hung low around her tightly corseted waist, and her robes always showed slender white ankles. She might very well have been a good seer, but she chose not to focus on anything outside of her. None of the males in the class minded, but the girls sat there fuming. If any of her visions were real, I would have loved to learn how she handled them, for fear still racked me that I would be overcome by one. I hadn't had any in awhile, but whether that was my doing, Grindelwald's disinterest, or a protection spell from Dumbledore and the other teachers, I was not sure.

Simon shook his head sadly. "You are the only bloke I know that doesn't like Professor Peepling." He glanced at me suspiciously. "What's wrong with you, anyway?"

"Where should I begin?" I retorted. "I didn't say I didn't like Professor Peepling; I said I didn't like Divination. There is a difference."

At that, Simon figuratively leapt onto me. "So you do like her? Is that a real confession of emotion from Tom Riddle? Shall I signal the parade? Hug a Muggle? What?"

I hoped my face wasn't looking as hot as it felt. With as much dignity as I could maintain I replied, "I can appreciate how she looks without really liking her. I don't know her very well, and that suits me fine. I find that, once I get to know someone, they become must less interesting. I mean, she's only a Divination professor. That has to say something about her."

"Yeah, that Merlin answered my prayers and brought her here for me," Simon glibly replied as we cleaned up our area. He seemed disappointed that I had weaseled my way out of a clear answer.

We both hurried down the hall to the Slytherin common room. Today we planned on going into Hogsmeade. Since there was still so much chaos going on, a chaperon was required, and if we missed them, we weren't allowed to leave. We quickly changed out of our work robes into regular clothing and raced down the stairs to where Zwipp was waiting with most of the third year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs. Since it needed to be chaperoned, the amount of students allowed to go at a particular time was greatly restricted. It was almost laughable to see the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs standing next to each other, however. The Hufflepuffs grouped together, never meeting a Slytherin's eye. The Slytherins, however, stood in small cliques or alone, confident and impassive.

Simon and I walked right up to Zwipp. We both did research with him in our spare time and found him enjoyable company. More enjoyable, by far, than most of our fellow students. He grinned when he saw us coming. It was a slight twitch of the mouth upward, but for him, it was warm.

"How goes the filing, gentlemen?" he inquired as we fell into step beside him.

"Fine, sir. Absolutely wonderful," Simon excitedly chipped in. I remained silent, smiling, letting him take the initiative.

Zwipp afforded him a glance of recognition before turning to me. "Is that right, Tom?"

My smile widened. "Yes, sir. Simon here has been a big help, of course," I added. When Simon turned to glare at me, I shrugged innocently. I couldn't help it if I was Zwipp's favorite. I could only enjoy it.

Zwipp laughed. "And modest too, Tom. You really have grown up. Well, boys, keep up the good work." With a final twitching smile, he headed to the front to do a head count.

I turned to look at Simon and saw a gaze on him that I had never seen before. Before I could inquire, he spoke. "I'll just never win, will I, Tom? Not against you." His words were calm, but they still rattled me.

"What are you talking about, Simon? Zwipp? Ignore him. I'm sorry I said that before; I was just teasing. He knows me better; that's all."

Simon bought none of my consolation. I didn't think he would have. He was too proud for that. "I've known Zwipp all my life, Tom. Known most of the professors, from my family. Most of them went to Hogwarts. And I know he likes me. That he thinks I'm smart." Looking at me directly, unflinchingly, he finished, "I'm just not you." He said all this monotonously, as if reciting a history lineage. None of it was new, but it had never dared to be spoken between us before.

He continued. "I'm not...I can't be...Tom Riddle. I can't beat you."

I wasn't sure how to respond. What could I tell him? That it wasn't a competition? It was. Simon clearly knew that. And even though he pushed just as hard as I did, desired to be the best as much, he just couldn't be. And we both always knew it. I respected him for his ambition, but I wasn't threatened by him anymore. As a matter of fact, worthwhile as he was to have around, if I was ever threatened by him, I doubted I would hang around him.

It had been nice for awhile to pretend that we were equals. But I knew Simon's ego wouldn't let him stand to be just an acquaintance with me. Yet it wasn't up to me to define the new roles we would play. I left that to him, waiting quietly, watching him try to separate reason from emotion. He really was a true Slytherin. He lost no footing with me in admitting this. It was something we both had known, and I'm sure he had wrestled with it. It was a rational decision, not an emotional one, and so should the next step be.

Finally, Simon looked up with cool eyes. In a calm voice, he asked, "What would you like to do now?"

I stared back, accepting the passivity in his voice. He had yielded for now. Second place, my number two, was better than no position at all. It touched me that he felt I was worth it. But then, I did run the school unofficially. I could talk my way out of anything. Everyone but Dumbledore either loved me or respected me. And Hagrid. I pushed that aside, seizing instead the enjoyment of my current position. I wasn't used to being in power...or at least having someone else submit to my lead. I was nervous and giddy, remembering my essence. My Animagus. The raven, the controller, the creator. Maybe it was right. Maybe this position Simon bestowed on me was right. It felt both natural and horribly awful. But one cannot refuse responsibility thrust upon them when they are capable. And I am capable.

I told myself this as I nodded my silent acceptance at Simon. And walking, with him half a step behind following me, I repeated it again. It is right.

I kept doing so as we entered Honeydukes. Most of the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs were there, talking about the upcoming Quidditch finals at our school. It was between the two of us, so animosity was running high. I took a seat at a table near the door, and Simon sat to my right. Sammy and Randy joined us, Sammy taking the seat to my left. Randy, a friend of hers, joined by default.

Sammy looked from Simon to me and back again. Tossing back her tangle of hair, she asked, "You both look really odd. What's going on?"

Simon looked at me, so I turned to her and shrugged. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Me, neither," Simon responded.

Sammy rolled her eyes and said exasperatedly, "Fine, whatever. Don't tell me. Live up to your name, Thomas." Even though that fifth year Ravenclaw had dumped her, she was still on her maturity kick. She daintily picked up a Cauldron Cake as she changed the subject. "So what do you think about the Quidditch finals?"

Randy immediately barged in. "We are going to decimate them, that's what! Those damn Huff-n-duffs don't stand a chance. They'll be so slow the game'll be over before they realize it started."

Simon raised his butterbeer. "Spoken like a true Slytherin loyalist."

"And Chaser," Sammy added loyally. "Randy has great strategy out there, not to mention power." Turning to me, she asked, "Are you going to go, Tom?"

"Fat chance," Randy cut in darkly. "Riddle-marinkydink hasn't even been to a single game, have you, Tom?" I watched him slurp his drink, muscles bulging. He was an even more intimidating presence than when we had first met.

I smiled at him. "I'll make you a deal. I'll go to the first game of the next season if you come and see a dueling match."

Randy groaned, barely audibly, but Sammy defended me, adding, "They really are quite fun. I did Dueling Club for awhile. And Tom will be president next year for sure, now that Nelle is graduating."

"Well, we don't know that for sure," I said humbly, although it was pretty much a given. Professor Vallandora was already talking to me about holding tryouts the next fall, something that was one of the president's responsibilities.

Randy was still not convinced. "Why won't you go and see this last game, then? It's more important than the first game. I mean, this one decides the House Cup for the year!"

I gave him a bemused glance. "With finals here? No way. I'll go next season though; I promise. And we already won the House Cup. I worked out the numbers. The other houses are going to have to defeat the Dark Lord if they want to do something that'll give them enough points to beat us." I didn't really know if this was true, but it was good to show house spirit.

We were all about to toast to another successful Slytherin year when the doors to Honeydukes burst open. Standing at the entrance were both Zwipp and a carrier owl from the school. He was breathing heavily, and the owl hooted in mournful tones. With wide eyes, he said in a voice so strained I thought it would snap, "Children, we have to leave immediately. Something has happened back at Hogwarts." His gaze came to rest on me as he finished. "Dumbledore has been injured."

I barely remember the walk back. It was more of a run, one which Randy made easily, but I was left out of breath. Simon, Sammy and I stood inside the hall gasping on weak legs, and everyone scurried about. Zwipp left us immediately, telling me to, "Keep things under control." I responded by saying that was my phrase of the day, not expecting him to get the pun.

Everyone eventually calmed down enough to stumble back to their common rooms, the Hufflepuffs much more upset than the Slytherins, who were more miffed at having to come back early. I heard one girl mutter, "It's not like we can do anything for him. He should want us to be out there enjoying what time we can, instead of here worrying about him. How selfish." Her friends murmured angrily in agreement.

Sammy rolled her eyes at the girl's back. "How stupid. I for one can't wait to find out what happened to him! Do you think it has anything to do with the Dark Lord?" It always amused me that most of the Slytherins used the term Dark Lord, while others called him Grindelwald.

I nodded, sharing her excitement. She turned her huge eyes on me, squealing, "Tom! You can find out! You can transfigure into a raven and see what's up! It's bound to work!"

Before I could open my mouth, Randy retorted, "What, Pre-Prefect Riddle, do something against the rules? Fat chance."

I shared a secret smile with Simon, but before Sammy's perceptive skills could pick up on anything, I said mildly, "Sorry, Sammy. I'm just as curious as you are, but I'm not going to risk that. I'll ask one of the professors about it later. We'll know soon enough."

Randy snorted in recognition, and Sammy regretfully went with him to the dungeons in search of the Slytherin common room. When they were out of earshot, I turned to Simon, who already knew what I was going to say. "I'll meet you afterward in the common room. For now, I'll distract whoever is near."

He went down the hall as I closed my eyes and concentrated. Breathing deep, the connection easily overcame me, and I was once again the raven. Flying once around Simon's head, he gave me a thumbs-up as I flew out the window and perched on the sill of Dumbledore's window. Teetering on the edge, I leaned in close, hidden in the shadows.

Dumbledore lay in his bed, looking deathly pale and thirty years older. A man whom I guessed was a doctor was crushing some herbs into a glass while Nurse Drawt patted his head with a cloth. Dippet was there, saying to the doctor, "The Minister will be here soon. Dumbledore is one of his finest defenses against the dark wizards. What will I tell him?"

The doctor, without a glance, responded coolly, "That this time, the dark wizard got the best of him." With that, he leaned over to administer his potion, clearly focused on his patient.

The lack of attention didn't stop Dippet, who kept rambling, "Three days I knew was too long without him checking in. Always on some secret mission to thwart Grindelwald and teaching classes and...protecting....our students. It's too much. Grindelwald is too much. He-"

"Is not too much." Though it came so softly it seemed almost to have been a shift of the wind, Dumbledore's eyes, now clear, showed them to be his words. Though clearly drained and weak, he forced power into his words, a power that came only from his will. "It-just-wasn't the-time. Too many of them to take on alone. But just-Grindelwald-I can take-him." His eyes, which had been drifting due to the pain killer and soothing clucks from Drawt, snapped sharp for one last phrase. "Before-he gets through-to-Tom." And then he passed out, sucking the consciousness of me into him, leaving me dumbstruck and empty. Chilled, I flew down, aware that things hadn't changed that much at all.

***

~Notes~

Based upon the mythological studies of D.J. Conway, a Raven is most closely associated with a messenger or a time of transition. Also, "an ambivalent bird, the raven is connected with prophecy and wisdom. They were believed to be able to find lost things; this was known as Raven's Knowledge, but the bird was also associated with darkness, death and evil" (Animal Magick).