The Broken Victory

Chapter 25: Making A Memory

I was now a witness of death for a second time. Myrtle's body lay there, drained and cold. Her bugging eyes stared up vacantly from behind cracked glass. Really, she didn't look much different than normal. There was no mystical experience, no feeling of a spirit being raised and released. My chain felt cool around my neck. Smiling a tight smile, I hearkened back to days spent with my knees on cold concrete forced to pray for that transient soul inside me, born black and demonic. So much for spiritual teachings.

The reality of that fact prevented any pity from entering my heart. She had been a useless, worthless creation. A fault of nature that I had corrected. And yes, I did have the right. I wouldn't have had the ability, the power to harness and the determination to control it, if I wasn't meant to wield that force. I was right in my position, of that I was certain.

So I slipped back out into the halls, my head not swimming and limbs light and supple. My emotion had informed my reason, but only in making my focus clearer. Myrtle was everything that I detested. I had drawn on far less resources to be rid of Myrtle than I had had to for Precious. If that wasn't a testament to Myrtle's incompetence at being a living organism, I don't know what is.

The Slytherin common room drew near, and I entered it silently. Surprisingly, Sammy, Randy, Damien, Cathleen, and Simon were still up, sitting beside the fire. They all turned when I entered and came forward, the flaming light illuminating my face.

"Hi, Thomas. Thanks for doing the round for us. Everything up to snuff then?" Sammy asked, leaning back onto Randy's chest. For the past three years, she had wavered between being completely bored with Randy and being enraptured with how he doted on her. I had to applaud her. She wasn't breathtakingly beautiful, but she had snared some like Randy into a trap from which they would never be able to escape, either from her personal charm or their innate dullness.

"Everything was fine. Quiet as a tomb," I answered.

Randy snorted. "I bet, after taking that to the dance." His curiosity overtook the cool distance that had built between us. "So why did you do it? I half-expected you to magic her hair on fire or something halfway through the thing."

Simon shook his head, answering Randy without looking at me. In a smug voice, he replied, "I know exactly why he did it. He plans on being Head Boy, and Dippet relies on Dumbledore to choose. Dumbledore would never pick Tom because he doesn't think he has enough of the Gryffin-ape heart in him. So by being the nice, sympathetic consort to Moaning Myrtle, something his own Gryffindors wouldn't do, he wins extra points." He finally turned his superior glare on me. "Right?"

I smiled. He couldn't have given me a better present than to use his wonderful logic to state my perfect excuse. Dumbledore had indeed looked suspicious, but when the night went on without hitch, he seemed confused. Bewildered, almost, that I had shown such graces even he couldn't explain away. "Well, Simon, nothing gets by you."

Sammy flipped her hair and snorted. "That wasn't worth it, if you ask me. But then, I could just be completely envious that you are now ahead of me in the race. They hardly ever pick a Head Boy and Head Girl both from the same House. I would be absolutely furious, if I weren't completely smashed." She then grinned and extended a bottle of Dark Wine, an expensive brand with the logo It's So Delectable You'd Think It Sinfully Dark. From the flush on all of their faces, it was apparent they were well into the bottle.

Randy hiccupped then and said loudly, "He'll never get to be Head of anything, if he's that heir that you..." He was shut up then by both Sammy and Simon glaring at him.

I froze, swallowing the tremors coming from my frantically beating heart. "What heir?"

In a voice barely controlled over jealousy and drink, Simon said, "Oh, for once he doesn't know something? Well, my friend, you should check up on your lore. Every good Slytherin knows about the mystical Chamber...and wouldn't you just make the perfect candidate, with your absolutely perfect record in every class..."

Rolling her head back on Randy's chest, Sammy loftily said back, "But we all know it can't be Tom. He's a Mud--" Her eyes widened, and she turned to face me. Giggling nervously, she tried to recover through her haze. "A much too nice person," she finished, offering me the bottle as if a token of reconciliation. Her eyes were glassy and shallow.

Stepping back, I examined them all. Amusement flowed over any hate or shame. How bloody blind sighted they all were. Too ignorant and narrow to see what I had become. Let Simon wrap himself at night in the comfort that I was a Mudblood. Let them all, for that matter. Let them live in the past at a distance where they belonged.

I smiled and shook my head at the offer. "No thanks, I'm going to turn in, do some reading. Though I must say, Samantha, you are the most eloquent drunk I have ever met. Just make sure you Obliviate any first years who wake with a nightmare and come out and see you." With a final nod, I turned and left them to their revelry. I didn't need wine to lighten myself into a festive mood.

The news about Myrtle spread like a raging fire. By morning classes were cancelled, and we all sat in our common rooms. I saw Simon look at me contemplatively. If anyone might be able to piece together anything, it would be Simon or Dumbledore. But Simon's logic wouldn't permit him to think I was the heir. The notion of a Mudblood heir went too far outside the foundation of him. No, I smiled sweetly at him, letting him wallow in his circles of introspection.

Dumbledore I was far more focused on. It was a joy to see him realize what I always knew, how little control around this school he actually had. It would be just like him to take this event to heart. Myrtle was dead, so HE was upset and guilty that HE hadn't stopped it and saved the day and been crowned the savior of the universe. But of course all he told us prefects was how sorry he was about the events and how we would all have to work together to ensure the future safety of the school. Well, I certainly could ensure that future. If I wished to.

Still, Dumbledore was eying me even closer than usual. At breakfast the next morning, he and Dippet were conversing and kept glancing in my direction. I was too focused on them to notice when two Slytherin second years got hexed by Hufflepuffs for stating the obvious fact that Myrtle wouldn't exactly be missed. To think that because of Dumbly I missed such a legendary event as some Huff-n-puff doffers mustering an iota of self-respect to fight back.

Even worse was getting the call to Dippet's office during Charms. As a prefect, I was deemed capable of walking the halls without dying by myself. So I tread the winding halls, wondering what, and who, I would really face. Facing the solid wood door, I had the same sinking feeling that I had had all those years ago when I had been sent to Mr. Blunt. I wiped my palms dry and knocked hesitantly. I heard a tired voice call, "Enter."

Slowly I opened the door to face Dippet sitting behind his desk. He was alone; that was something. Seeing him, it was evident his expression was as heavy as his voice. "Ah, Riddle."

I remembered to smile. Taking off my hat, I tried to approach confidently. "You wanted to see me, Professor Dippet?"

Dippet waved me to a seat and took a deep sigh. "Sit down. I've just been reading the letter you sent me."

He seemed far too hesitant to my liking. "Oh?"

He gave me an exasperated expression. "My dear boy, I cannot possibly let you stay at school over the summer." I supposed he realized how unconvincing that sounded, because fluster then overtook him. "Surely you want to go home for the holidays?"

That was a nice solid sock in the chest. Immediately I replied, "No. I'd much rather stay at Hogwarts than go back to that - to that -" I could hardly squeeze words out as my insides shriveled at the thought.

I suppose he was not used to seeing the tension I let slip in my voice. Curiously, he ventured, "You live in a Muggle orphanage during the holidays, I believe?"

I fought back to control, managing a smile. "Yes, sir." My face felt warm.

"You are Muggle-born?" I wondered who put him up to all these questions.

"Half-blood, sir. Muggle father, witch mother."

"And are both your parents?"

Anticipating the question, I all but cut him off as I replied, ""My mother died just after I was born, sir. They told me at the orphanage she lived just long enough to name me - Tom after my father, Marvolo after my grandfather." At least, that was what I had been told.

Dippet clucked his tongue then, causing my musings to thankfully be diverted to focusing on hating him.

He backed off then, sighing back into his seat. "The thing is, Tom, special arrangements might have been made for you, but in the current circumstances..."

This I was expecting. I was as prepared as I ever would be to make my plea in this case. "You mean all these attacks, sir?"

But Dippet didn't let me get even a word in. His face reflected the panic he felt. "Precisely! My dear boy, you must see how foolish it would be of me to allow you to remain at the castle when the term ends. Particularly in light of the recent tragedy... the death of that poor little girl... You will be safer by far at your orphanage. At a matter of face, the Ministry of magic is even talking about closing the school. We are no nearer locating the er - source of all this unpleasantness... " He couldn't even form the words.

It was now my chance to jump in. "Sir, if the person was caught--if it all stopped--"

"What do you mean?" He jumped all over my words, preventing me from continuing. My suspicions about who had been talking with him increased. He had never interrogated me before. Never. "Riddle, do you mean you know something about these attacks?"

Dumbledore. Fine, if he wanted to play this way, I was game. I drew my eyes wide with innocence, but my response was a bit quick. "No, sir." I almost held my breath as I chastised myself.

Dippet looked at me for a second, no doubt remembering how often I had sat across from him and helped him with work. How many times I had smiled up at him just like an angelic child of his very own. He finally sighed again and waved me out. "You may go, Tom..."

Giving him a last smile and nod, I humbly held my hat before me as I exited his office. Once outside, my eyes steeled as I clenched my jaw. Barely noticing the moving staircase and gargoyle statue being overcast with the rising dark, I made my way down the steps deep in thought. It was one thing for Dumbledore to corrode his mind with suspicions about me he couldn't prove, but to take it to Dippet seemed just so...juvenile and pathetic. But still damaging. Dumbledore carried enormous weight with Dippet. I had to distract him...and make his chest clench as mine had with the thought of returning to that Hell. He had been willing to send me back to suffer under the bigotry and cruelty that had encompassed my world for eleven years. And if he thought he was doing it for the best, if he didn't realize what had gone on at the orphanage, than he was a willfully ignorant, blind fool. Well, I could give him something he couldn't ignore. Something that would rip his precious image apart inside and out as he tried to do to mine. I felt my brow unfurl, and I proceeded to hurry to the entrance hall until a voice interrupted me.

"What are you doing, wandering around this late, Tom?" Upon hearing that, I spun so quickly my foot almost caught on the hem of my robe. Breathing deeply, I gazed at none other than Albus, who was standing high on the marble staircase.

"I had to see the headmaster, sir." I said nothing else, letting the possibilities hang for him.

His pride refused to let him inquire further. "Well, hurry off to bed," he said. "Best not to roam the corridors these days. Not since..." He broke off there, watching me. Neither one of us broke our solid, impenetrable eye contact. Eventually, he nodded slightly and quietly said, "Good night, Mr. Riddle."

I nodded civilly, even smiling respectfully as he withdrew. So it was bedtime. I hoped he had already tucked his precious Gryffindors in safe for the night. I smirked at his proud, retreating back, so healthy now and full of hope again. The clocks of Hogwarts rang, and it was just the time that I would feed a monstrous, illegal pet.

Hagrid was about as difficult to figure out as a game of connect the dots. If the pet was Hagrid's, it would be large. He would keep it someplace big enough to house it and vacant enough to not be found. He could be counted on to be a bit sharp and safe if the animal was at risk. There was only one place, and that was the room off the tunneled hallway in the dungeons. It led nowhere, had some dusty boxes long deserted, and enough creeping creatures to feed almost anything.

I hurried along, keeping a swift and determined pace. I didn't want to risk missing him, and I didn't count on the fact he would be brave enough to hang out long outside after hours. So I slipped along through the shadows until I came to the unlocked door I desired. I crouched down, peering through the crack. As my eyes adjusted to the dark I remained motionless, time losing any meaning. Finally, I could hear his thick-sounding accent. Creeping quietly, I leaned in to overhear. "That's it, then, little fella. Back into your bed." I heard the creak of a box closing.

Taking out my wand, I took a deep breath, placed a stern expression on my face, and opened the door. "Evening, Rubeus." My senses were ablaze as my instincts took hold. I had to work this right.

He spun like a top, his eyes wild with fright. ""What yer doin' down here, Tom?" Funny, I'd never noticed how guttural his accent truly was til I examined him this critically. Now that he was of utmost important to me, I took in every detail with a calm passion, turning it over in my mind.

I gave my expression a bit of pity. "It's all over. I'm going to have to turn you in, Rubeus." I was careful to use his first name, my body feeling electric but controlled. "They're talking about closing Howarts if the attacks don't stop."

"What d'yeh -"

"I don't think you meant to kill anyone. But monsters don't make good pets." I could see his face setting into a harder expression than I would have thought possible. Changing tactics, I offered more sympathetically, "I suppose you just let it out for exercise, and -"

Hagrid tried to sidestep in front of the box. Waving his arms before him, he shouted in panic, "It never killed no one!"

I slowly approached again and commanded, "Come on, Rubeus. The dead girl's parents will be here tomorrow. The least Hogwarts can do is make sure that the thing that killed their daughter is slaughtered." He was trembling before me, but not moving. My, how brave and courageous. That would stop me.

"It wasn't him! He wouldn'! He never!" Hagrid began, trying to manage syllables at this point. Ignoring him, I shifted my position quickly.

Drawing out my wand, I commanded, "Stand aside."

Pointing at the box, I summoned forth the easy spell. Within a second, it had split open, and as I saw something black being thrown by the force. The vast, spindly thing spun, eyeing me before rushing with such force I found myself bowled over by it. Hagrid stepped over me, almost tangling us, as he tried to get at the hairy creature. Unfortunately, he had shoved me within perfect range of the skittish creature. I barely had time to catch sight of its many gleaming black orbs before it began to disappear.

I raised my wand again.

"NOOO!"

The guttered accent was followed by Hagrid's hands. Grabbing my wrist and pushing me back, I was thrown against the wall.

With that force, darkness came, along with the sweep of hot sweat and the fierce beating of my heart. Consciousness wavered as I heard Hagrid's voice. It was as if he were speaking to the creature under water, for I couldn't make any of the sounds into words. But whatever he said must have had relevance, for the creature turned and fled down the hall, its thick legs smacking the ground with force enough to leave concrete imprints. It was indeed a horrific looking, blood-lusting beast. It was perfect.

As I regained full consciousness, I could feel Hagrid lifting me up, supporting me with his gigantic shoulder. I let my head sag, so he wouldn't bother to try and talk, only saying gruffly, "I'll get you to the hospital wing." From his tense body, I could tell he was feeling absolutely furious and betrayed. But all I cared about was having help limping back to civilization. He was assisting me to his own expulsion, at the least. That fear wasn't lost on him, and he never could prevent his emotions from flooding his features. As we entered the wing, he looked positively dreadful.

Madame Drawt shrieked when she saw us. Immediately she waved us to a table. Hagrid let go of my shoulder as I gingerly sat upon the bed. As awareness fully hit me, I realized how difficult it was to breathe. I clenched my side as Drawt told me to lie down. She waved a wand over me as she ordered Hagrid to get Dippet, who was in a meeting with the Minister. My ears perked up at that. Oh, it was too perfect to have imagined. Well worth the broken ribs I had no doubt received.

Drawt concluded as much. Stepping back, she pocketed her wand as she announced, "Two broken ribs and a mild concussion. Mr. Riddle, I thought it had been too long since you had visited me. You had to make it good, didn't you?"

A concussion to boot. Moaning, I placed a hand to my head and asked, "How about Hagrid? Is he all right?"

Drawt clucked and rubbed my arm. "Such a sweet boy. Rubeus is fine, love. Now you just rest."

I shook my head, which did indeed hurt like hell. "No, you don't understand...he...he..."

"Shhh," Drawt soothed me. Her face was the picture of pity and admiration. "You worry too much about others, Tom. First you take that poor girl to the dance to make her feel better, and then she...and now this..." Her eyes even welled with tears. "This has been such a hard week for you. If you need anything--"

I smiled at her. "You've done more than enough. What you're doing is perfect."

She choked back a sob and patted my hand. She stood like that as Dumbledore, Dippet, and Minister Charles C. Woodwand II came in. Woodwand was as tall as Dumbledore, only with ten times the girth. His hair was a dark brown despite his age, and he wore his robes like an emperor. Dippet lagged behind him with Hagrid as Dumbledore and he strode in side by side.

They spread out before my bed. Drawt, noticing she was less than wanted, scurried off to make the healing potions. As she left, she gave me a kiss on the forehead and pushed the hair from my eyes. I saw both Dippet and Woodwand smile at that. I smiled at her retreating back, silently thanking her splendid, albeit heartfelt, performance.

Dumbledore spoke first. "Tom, what happened tonight? Are you all right?" His follow-up was clearly not his main inquiry.

Making sure I made eye contact with all of them, I began to weave my tale. "I'm fine, sir... are you all right, Hagrid? Yes? Oh good, I was so worried. You see, sirs, Hagrid helped me back here. I couldn't have made it on my own, after..." I let a spasm of pain wrack my face. Dippet came forward with blatant concern, but I waved him away in a brave display. "No, it's al lright. You see, part of this is my fault, sir."

Dumbledore's eyes pricked up. "Your fault?" Even Hagrid, who had been examining his shoes, looked up in confusion.

I nodded in sorrow. "Yes. You see, I knew Hagrid was keeping an illegal pet. Of course, I had no idea exactly how dangerous it was until-"

"That's a lie!" Hagrid burst out. Face red, he turned to Dumbledore pleadingly, "Please, sir, listen ter me. It wasn' Aragog! I swear!"

"Now just hold on," Woodwand cut in irritably. He clearly wasn't used to interruptions during a debriefing session. "Dippet, can we take that hysterical child out, so we can listen to what happened?"

Dippet ignored Dumbledore's headshake. Clearly, he differed to Woodwand here. "Certainly, sir. Rubeus, please join Madame Drawt next door."

He practically had to drag Hagrid along to put him in the next room. Hagrid kept looking back at me like a wounded puppy begging not to be let down. "Please, Tom, tell them the truth. I wouldn't keep something that dangerous! You know me! Please, don't do this!"

I stared back at him. "I'm sorry, Hagrid. But I couldn't live with myself if I did the wrong thing here." Then, turning back to Dippet, Woodwand, and Dumbledore, I finished the story. "I followed Hagrid down to where he kept the thing in the castle. I should have gone to one of you, sirs, but I didn't want to risk getting Hagrid in trouble if he was innocent. I mean, just because the thing was illegal didn't mean it was monstrous. So I went to where I knew he'd be keeping Aragog and saw the thing. It was terrible, sirs. A large, black monster with fangs. Hagrid couldn't control it, and it attacked me. There was blood on the ground. It could have been from mice it fed on, or..." I let my voice trail off, allowing their imaginations to fill in the horrifying gaps themselves.

After a moment of speechlessness, Dippet blustered, "This--this is unbelievable! How could he have possibly kept something he knew could endanger the students?!"

"Well, sir, I knew about it, too," I offered before Dumbledore could bring it up.

Dippet waved that off. "As you said, Tom, you didn't know why it was illegal. Certain pets aren't allowed at Hogwarts because they are too noisy, not because they kill students. I'll have that boy expelled. It's the least we can do for the poor girl's parents."

I looked up quickly and, with a sympathetic voice, said, "Oh, sir, must you? Hagrid didn't mean to, I'm sure. He just couldn't handle Aragog. He really didn't..." I sank back onto the bed, milking the dizzy wave. Hagrid would be expelled. Perfect.

Dippet smiled curtly at me. "You're a good boy, Tom. But this kind of behavior can't go unpunished. No, expulsion is the least..."

"Quite right. He should be tried before the court. People will want Azkaban for this. We can't just let the heir--" Woodwand was cut off by Dumbledore.

"You can't honestly believe Hagrid opened the chamber?" Dumbledore interrupted in utter disbelief.

Woodwand, clearly miffed at being cut off, faced off with Dumbledore. Coolly he shot, "I know how hard it must be for you, Albus, to accept that one of your students is capable of this. But look at the facts. Get your head into reality, man."

It was brilliant. Dumbledore's face crumpled for a moment. The thought of Hagrid being sent to Azkaban tested even Dumbledore's soul. It was now time to show exactly who in this room had the power of persuasion. Turning with a wince, I said weakly, "Please, Minister. I tutored Rubeus for three years. He made a mistake, one he will have to live with for the rest of his life. Just the knowledge of having taken another's life must rip him apart. Right, Professor Dumbledore? Any true Gryffindor wouldn't be able to stand it. That should be punishment enough. But I trust you to know best, sir, and to deal out the appropriate punishment. I just hope Hagrid will come to understand why I did what I had to do and someday forgive me."

There was utter silence, and I saw Dippet and Woodwand look at me like I had grown a halo around my head. Woodwand finally got out, "You truly are an amazing young man, Mr. Riddle. I would have to take any plea as heartfelt and passionate as that into account. I suppose it would be fitting if he were simply expelled..."

I let my smile travel to Dumbledore's impassive face. "I'm so glad that you would listen to me, sir."

Woodwand sighed, turning to Dippet. "Of course, there is one other matter." They both looked a bit uncomfortable as Woodwand approached me to continue. "You see, Mr. Riddle, we are in the middle of a war. A very tight, terrifying one. Morale is low already, and if it leaked out that... certain events... occurred here, it might push some already frayed nerves. Public support of the Ministry and of Defense members like some of your professors hangs in the balance here. I know you care about your professors very much..."

Good lord. Did he think I was ten? "You want me to lie about what happened here, then, sir?" I turned a shocked expression on them.

Woodwand's eyes bugged. "No! Not at all, young man. It's just...you want to be a hero, right? A good boy. Well, I want to make you one. I want to give you an award for what you did tonight. How would you like that?"

I fought not to roll my eyes. "I would like that very much, sir."

"These awards are given when certain self-sacrificing acts cause a better future. But if the events of tonight got out, that future might not be so bright for certain people like me--like the Ministry. And your good teachers here."

I furrowed my brow. "So I would only really help and deserve this award if I kept quiet?" I saw Dumbledore's disbelief, and for once we were in complete agreement over this asinine ploy.

But Woodwand beamed. "Yes, exactly! What a bright boy. You'll be gunning for my job soon, I bet. This award is a sign that you are one of us. Everyone will know you helped the school, and it'll just be a mystery as to how. Except for us." He finished with a wink.

I tried not to laugh. If he were this simple in his campaigns, I wouldn't have to work very hard to put him out of office. But still, his intentions were just beautiful. An Award for Special Service to the school. The irony was almost too sweet.

Dumbledore sighed then, quietly saying straight at me, "I think I should be the one to speak with Hagrid. I wish to discuss all this with him." With a look on his face that I did not entirely trust, he added, "And then with yourself, Headmaster."

Dippet waved him out. "You can tell him he is expelled, Albus. Console him if you must, but I want him out of here by tomorrow." He had clearly gained confidence in the presence of Woodwand. I couldn't help but smile in satisfaction, with a smugness I tried to hide. Living toys before me.

Dumbledore turned, preparing to leave. He only stopped, shoulders stiff, as I called out a parting shot, "And please tell Hagrid I hope he will be all right."

~*~

I was released from the hospital in a day. Already my schedule was lighter, now that Hagrid was gone. I got strange looks from Annie, but she didn't dare approach. I was too busy to give her much concern at the moment. All I could think about was how Salazar's plan had failed.

It was hard to accept that it simply an impossible or bad idea. The thought of failure hung heavily around me. Had I chickened out, just from the fear of being sent back to the orphanage? Or let my rage against Dumbledore force me to act hastily? These doubts clouded my mind incessantly, obsessively. But every way I turned it, I was left in an impossible array of uncertainty. I could not count on the fact that it was just bad timing or Dumbledore's interference. The thought that it was I who was lacking made me nauseous and infuriated. I had changed and truly become Salazar's heir. And I would continue to change, to perfect ways to execute our ideals. But I couldn't just leave his legacy as a broken, unfulfilled memory.

A memory. My memory. Memories. My eyes shot open in the night weeks later. Shaking, I drew in breaths of frigid air. There was one way I could end the uncertainties and cover all my possibilities. To keep now what was and the future to still be decided. I could shape every future, every fallback. I could know for certain the power of Salazar, honor him at the same time as moving beyond. I could leave him his heir as I became Lord Voldemort, bringing his legacy to another realm.

It was so cold in the dungeons. I heard the shivering of the other Slytherins as I slipped out of bed. There, at the bottom of my trunk, it sat. I brought it into the common room, where it shone in the darkness. The little black leather, the gold letters of my name. The name that had brought so much hate, and yet so much power to behold. It was a memory worth saving...for the right person. I would find them...and I would not fail.

I took out my pen and prepared the incantation. It would take a long time for all to be set and for the magic to work. But first I had to write something. Anything, just to begin. With shaky hand and steady will, I drew my quill. Ink dripped as I turned the sparkling pages. My mind flooded with the images of the past. Of hunger and pain, sickness and terror...of isolation and beating, crying and suffering...and of power. Of glory. Of success and triumph, knowledge and possibilities.

I leaned over and prepared to capture a memory.

My name is... Tom Marvolo Riddle...