Voldemort: The Mastermind of the Dark Mark: The Hogwarts Years

Chapter Three: Changes in the Curriculum

Compared with the incident in Ollivander's, Tom found the subsequent trip to the Apothecary to be deadly dull. The entire place smelled of something like raw fish, and even the more sinister looking ingredients, such as dragon tongues, failed to attract Tom's attention. The only distraction he experienced was when Walburga "accidentally" tipped a scoop of Newt's eyes down his shirt, an injustice which was swiftly rectified by Lady Black, who after much scolding, took away Walburga's wand as punishment. This, however, was the sole interruption of Tom's apparently solitary contemplation of what had just happened to him. Had anyone been able to hear what Tom was thinking, though, they would have known that his contemplation of his wand was anything but solitary. In fact, he was currently engaged in a very heated discussion with Voldemort.

"Why did you make me take this wand, Voldie?"

Because it's the right one, Tom! Or are you too foolish to realize that?

"It didn't feel right at first, Voldie. I didn't w--"

Oh, begging your pardon, boy! I suppose that just when you don't want something, you don't particularly care what I think!

"No, I didn't mean that--"

Lies. You do not care what I want. I am nothing to you but a pleasant, childish distraction.

"Please, don't--"

Of course, we all know how far you'd get without me, don't we, Tom? That old Cole hag would've caught you at your little games long ago without me, wouldn't she? But I suppose that doesn't particularly matter to you when you don't want something!

"Voldie--"

DON'T CALL ME THAT!

Tom flinched, tears coming to his eyes.

"Please don't be so angry, Vold--Voldemort."

What else can I be, Tom? You treat me as though I were one of your little orphan playthings. You ignore me the instant someone more convenient, more interesting, more seemingly real comes along! Do you think that just because you cannot see me, I am not real?

"No. No, Voldemort, I know you're real. You must be. You wouldn't be able to help me if you weren't."

Then treat me like a real friend, Tom. Trust me. I know best, and I know that you would not be able to find a better wand than that.

"It just - it feels wrong, Voldie. It feels...evil."

What a simple thing to say! You sound like Mrs. Cole, talking of 'good' and 'evil.' Do you think you have been a saint, Tom, using people's emotions to make them terrified of you?

"I--"

No, of course you don't, which is why you know I am right. That wand is not 'evil' anymore than you are. It is just powerful...like us. You want us to be powerful, don't you, Tom?

"Of course I do, Voldie."

Then forget all this talk of 'good' and 'evil.' There is no good and evil, Tom. There is only power and those too weak to seek it. You of all people should know that.

Before Tom could respond, however, Lady Black was calling him up to the counter to purchase his ingredients and get a move on. Hastily, he dumped the necessary into his cauldron and made his way up to the counter, where a wizened, toothless old wizard gave him a nasty grin before telling him that his ingredients would cost two galleons altogether, a sum which Tom dutifully counted out before following Lady Black out of the shop, rather more hastily and more quietly than he had followed her out of the preceding stores. However, it was all Tom could do to look where he was going, so focused was he on his previous argument with Voldemort.

"No good and evil," he muttered to himself. "Only power...only power...only power..."

"You alright, mudblood? Not going to go mad on us, are you?"

Walburga had drawn up next to him, wearing what might have been the most obnoxious smirk Tom had ever seen. Tom scowled at her.

"I'm lucky I've got a mind to lose, Walburga," he said sharply. "That's more than I can say for some people."

Walburga's frown deepened and she leaned in on him. "You think you're so smart, don't you, Riddle?" she hissed. "Think you're special, do you, getting my mum to drag you around like you're bloody Merlin? Well, you're not special, you're just a--"

"I am special," Tom said calmly, even though anger was rising slowly in him. Strangely, the more angry he got, the hotter his wand seemed felt in his hand, as though his emotion was holding it over a slow fire.

"Not around here, you're not, mudblood," Walburga snapped angrily. "You're nothing here. Nothing but a filthy, little--"

"I'd stop there, if I were you," said Tom icily, wincing slightly as his wand got so hot that it felt as though it might burn him.

"Ha! And who's going to make me, mudblood? Words don't matter, unless they're magic. What, can't you take it? Are you a baby, as well as filth? Not that I'd be surprised, given you're nothing but a disgusting little sack of--"

"Stop," said Tom, trying to stay calm, but unable to keep the edge of anger out of his voice. "Stop saying that, or I'll--"

"You'll do what? Curse me? You don't know any spells, mudblood, and never will, considering you're nothing but an ugly, worthless nobody."

"STOP!" yelled Tom, as his wand reached a burning heat. As he moved to drop it, however, he heard Voldemort's voice in his head.

Use it, Tom. It wants to help us. Use it. NOW!

And before Tom could even think what to do, he felt his arm draw his wand upward and slashed at the air with it. There was a blast of sound like a rifle going off, and then two jets of light surged from Tom's wand and struck Walburga full in the face. Walburga recoiled from the light, clumsily trying to shield her face with her arms, but it was too late. The jets had struck her lips, which seemed to instantly melt together, hiding her look of horror with a layer of newly grown skin. Walburga put her hands to her face and, feeling this deformity, made a valiant effort at screaming.

"MMMMMFFFFF!"

Lady Black wheeled around furiously at the noise. "Walburga, what on earth are you--"

"MMMMMFFFF!" screamed Walburga, pointing frantically at her mouth. Lady Black's face clouded over with rage, and in a second she had waved her wand, making Walburga's lips separate again. Then, she turned her gaze on Tom, who suddenly realized that his wand was still pointing at Walburga. Before he could stow it away, however, Lady Black had sliced her wand through the air, and Tom suddenly felt a deep gash open in his cheek. The stinging pain almost made him want to cry. However, Tom kept his eyes on Lady Black, who was staring at him with livid displeasure.

"You dare to use the wand I bought for you to attack my daughter, Riddle?" Lady Black hissed. "You dare to take advantage of my charity, and then endanger my children?"

"Please," Tom began, trying to sound as persuasive as possible, "please, let me expl--"

"Explain?!" Lady Black's voice was almost a shriek. "Explain?! And what could you explain, Riddle? What could possibly justify such insolence as to--"

"He didn't mean it, mum," came Alphard's voice. "It was an accident. She was just calling him names, and he pulled out his wand. And then..." A note of fear had entered Alphard's voice. "The wand just went off."

Lady Black's glare did not soften. "It just went off?" she repeated. "And you expect me to believe that Master Riddle had nothing to do with that?"

"Of course he had something to do with it!" Walburga screamed. "He waved the wand, didn't he? He..."

"I didn't wave the wand," Tom said slowly, not sure if what he was about to say next would make any sense, but knowing it was true. "It waved me."

Apparently Tom's statement made some sort of sense because a little color drained from Lady Black's face. However, condemnation still blazed in her piercing gaze as she hissed: "You are fortunate indeed that I can tell you are not lying, Riddle, otherwise I would curse you into pieces this instant. As it is, I will permit you to accompany us as far as the book store, and after that, we will part. However, if you so much as lay a finger on that wand, I shall make you sorry you were ever born. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Lady Black," said Tom as graciously as he could. He was still a little shaken by how quickly the wand had reacted to his anger, but his relief at not being cursed was impossible to overstate. As Lady Black wheeled around and stalked away with Walburga in tow, Tom hastily pocketed the wand. As he did so, he heard a familiar and rather unwelcome voice in his head.

Where's your gratitude, Tom?

Tom was furious at these words. Voldie was overreaching far too much, and he intended to put a stop to it this instant.

"Gratitude? And why should I be grateful? Because you very nearly jeopardized both our safety?"

Oh Tom, don't be so stupid. Intimidation was what the little fool was asking for, and you certainly seem to have had that effect.

"If I'd wanted to intimidate her, Voldie, I'd have done it myself, without you taking over and waving the wand!"

A long, menacing silence answered Tom. Then, slowly, Tom felt an icy cold travel up his wand arm as Voldemort responded in a voice infinitely more slow, deliberate and threatening than Tom had ever heard his friend use.

DON'T antagonize me, Tom. Especially not when you need both of us to control that wand. It has power like you can't believe, Tom. More power than you've ever dreamed of, more power than you and I have ever conceived. Now, kindly stop acting like a star struck child and thank me for demonstrating how great you can potentially be! That old hag thought of you as a charity case before. I guarantee you that now she will remember your name!

Tom's resentment had turned to fear already, and he sensed that arguing with Voldemort would be not only pointless, but dangerous. He turned his attention back to Lady Black, who was striding into a nearby store which, Tom, could see, was named "Flourish and Blott's." As Tom got closer to the store, he saw to his immense delight that it was a bookstore - the first place he had ever seen where he could buy spellbooks. He fiddled around in his pocket and pulled out the list of books he would be required to buy for Hogwarts, but no sooner had he done so than a hand with talon-esque fingernails had snatched it away from him. He looked up and saw Lady Black looking down at him with her signature imperious look.

"This list of books will not serve you properly, Tom," she said neutrally. "In fact, it will only impair your education. You will receive a different set of books - a set appropriate to what every young wizard ought to buy. Now hurry up and come into the store."

Tom complied hastily, doing his best to keep up as Lady Black weaved between shelves and shelves of books, swooping down on copies of books whose titles Tom did not even have the chance to view, which she then handed to Walburga, Alphard and him crisply. After only a few trips back and forth between various sections of the bookshop, Tom felt as though his arms were going to collapse from the weight of the books, which were already beginning to fill his already heavy cauldron. However, Lady Black showed no sign of slowing down as she guided him under a sign bordering a section which read "History of Magic," where Lady Black immediately began perusing the various shelves, seemingly in search of a particular title.

However, as Lady Black's piercing eyes wandered from shelf to shelf, Tom noticed that she seemed to be getting increasingly frustrated with each failure to search for whatever title seemed to be eluding her. Turning crisply on the spot, Lady Black scowled at the register, from which she beckoned a rather frightened looking young man with messy brown hair to come and help her.

"Clerk," said Lady Black curtly, "perhaps you can direct me to where I could find 'History of the Wizarding Race' by Brutus Malfoy?"

The young man looked sheepish, but also a bit defiant as he responded: "We don't carry that book no more, ma'am."

"Don't carry it?" Lady Black's voice had assumed a deadly edge. "And why not?"

"Well, ma'am, for starters, it's not on the Hogwarts reading list anymore," the young man answered calmly. "And we didn't think there was enough of a clientele for...that sort of book in the store anymore."

"I'm terribly sorry," hissed Lady Black, sounding anything but sorry, "but I haven't the slightest clue what sort of book you mean when you say 'that sort of book.' Enlighten me."

"Ma'am, we here at Flourish and Blott's pride ourselves on being inclusive of books which hold...alternative points of view," the young man answered delicately, "but there's one type of book we'll never stock in this store unless we have to, and that's Dark Wizard propaganda."

"DARK WIZARD PROPAGANDA?!" shrieked Lady Black, apoplectic rage boiling in her eyes. "That book has been on the reading list at Hogwarts for the past 200 years, and would be still if it weren't for the insipid, egalitarian fools that pass for teachers at Hogwarts! You're willing to stock a book by a known radical like Bathilda Bagshot, but you call one of the most well-respected historical texts of the past 300 years--"

"With all due respect, ma'am," the young man interjected with a hint of sharpness entering his voice, "that book is not respected at all in some circles and we here at Flourish and Blott's don't think a book which argues that there are no significant muggle-born achievements in Wizarding history deserves much respect either..."

"Merlin's beard!" Lady Black screamed, causing several people in Flourish and Blott's to turn and stare at her. "Has the entire Wizarding World lost its spine?! So what if there are no muggle-born achievements in wizarding history?! Have we subjugated everything to this sort of nonsensical equalizing and--"

"Ma'am, I'm not going to argue with you," the young man responded stubbornly. "I could lose my job--"

"Well, I will respond to her," came a commanding voice from behind Lady Black, which made both her and Tom whirl around. Standing between the bookcases close to them was a tall, gangly looking man with deep brown hair and somewhat tattered robes who was giving Lady Black a look of deepest loathing, which she was returning with twice his vigor. Tom, for his part, already intensely disliked the man.

"Tell me something, Irma," the man said, striding over to Lady Black with an air of purest self-righteousness which only made Tom dislike him even more, "what on earth keeps you pureblood-only loonies going anyway? Relying on a confirmed bigot like Brutus Malfoy to teach your kids History of Magic! Why don't you just resurrect Herpo the Foul and get him to teach them Care of Magical Creatures?"

"Better my type of loony than yours, Creon," snapped Lady Black. "Your type is trying to drag down, to mutilate, to vulgarize magical education..."

"Really?" snapped the man (whose name was apparently Creon). "Some of us think we're trying to make it more fair. I know you Slytherins hate that word, but some of us understand that there are more important things than power and privilege--"

"More important? You mean easier for self-righteous fools like you to attain, Creon Nottingstom!" Lady Black shrieked. "But then, you Hufflepuffs never did understand merit, did you? No, you hid behind fairness because it hid your mediocrity, because it made you feel better about your pathetic existence! It's always been that way, as far back as your founder! Tell me," she sneered, "did your muggle wife make you feel superior? Did she make you feel gifted? She shouldn't have. She hadn't got any magic, so she couldn't hurt herself with it, could she? But you're apparently such an idiot you can't even brew a bloody potion without it blowing up in both your faces!"

This last insult appeared to have really stung Nottingstom, since Tom had to duck to avoid the jet of light he sent at Lady Black. In seconds, though, Lady Black had parried the spell and had sent another one back at Nottingstom, who blocked it almost instantly before firing back at Lady Black. Tom vaguely registered a few shouts of protest, but didn't pay attention, as he was too engrossed in the duel. And what a duel! Spells flew at the speed of light, each bouncing off their target. However, after a minute or so, it became apparent to Tom that Lady Black was clearly the superior fighter, and that Nottingstom, despite being able to block her spells, was doing so with effort. The strokes of Lady Black's wand were vicious, swift and almost leisurely in their ease, like a cat batting a mouse back and forth between its two paws. Nottingstom was Lady Black's prey, and she was keeping him trapped with a combination of blinding speed and pure sadism. Tom, whose sympathies clearly lay with Lady Black, was electrified by it.

The fight continued for another thirty seconds, with neither side gaining a permanent advantage, before a voice was heard over the sounds of the crowd that had gathered.

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

Lady Black's wand was blasted out of her hand and flew across the room. In the split second that this happened, Nottingstom waved his wand and a curse impacted, sending her skidding backwards into a bookshelf. Tom, bewildered by this sudden change of fortune, looked around frantically.

He didn't have to look far. Striding through the crowd, holding both Lady Black's wand and his own, was a man with shocking red hair whose tattered robes seemed to have no effect whatsoever on the stern aura of self-confidence he projected. However, much to Tom's displeasure, this was not the same sort of self-confidence that Lady Black displayed. The man radiated a righteousness which reminded Tom entirely too much of Mrs. Cole.

"Irma, I know you yearn for the days when muggle hunting was still legal," the man drawled, "but next time do try and avoid doing it in such a public place."

Lady Black's face clouded over with hatred as the stranger spoke, and she hissed back: "And I know that you are too busy trying to find purebloods guilty of acts of bigotry to notice, Weasley, but he cursed me first."

"Uh huh," said the man (Weasley apparently), "and I'm sure you did nothing whatsoever to merit that. Don't waste your time playing the victim with me, Irma. Just because you used to be able to buy off the Department of Magical Law Enforcement before doesn't mean that will cut it now."

"Ask them!" Lady Black shrieked, waving her arms at the audience. "They saw it! They'll tell you!"

"That's right!"

Before Tom even knew what he was doing, he had spoken the words, and now more were pouring out, seemingly of his own accord. "She didn't do anything but say something mean about his wife, and he started using his stick...I mean his wand to hurt her. I saw it! I was with her!"

Tom met Lady Black's eyes at this point, against his better judgment. He did not like what he saw - for the first time, there was tenderness in them, and not just tenderness, but a very deep pity which made Tom feel small and weak and extremely uncomfortable. He looked up at Mr. Weasley, who was giving him a look of indulgent disbelief.

"What's your name, son?" Mr. Weasley asked kindly - too kindly for Tom's taste, and Tom decided that even though he hadn't meant to speak up, he was going to stand his ground anyway just to spite Mr. Weasley for talking to him like that.

"Riddle," said Tom proudly. "Tom Marvolo Riddle. I've been traveling with Lady Black all day, and I'll tell you she'd never hurt someone. She's the nicest person I've met."

"Well, that's unfortunate," said Mr. Weasley with a laugh, though he did not, to Tom's relief, seem to realize that Tom was lying the way Lady Black could tell, "but listen, Tom, you want to know a secret?"

Tom resented very much being spoken to in this childish manner, but his curiosity got the better of him, and he nodded. Mr. Weasley smiled.

"Alright. Listen closely, now." He leaned in to whisper in Tom's ear. "Lady Black's a very bad, evil person, Tom - a person who wants to make all sorts of lovely people like you and me suffer. And whatever reason she took an interest in you, it can't be good, because she hates nice little children like you and wants you to be stupid forever and never learn anything because you're not like her."

Weasley backed away and looked Tom straight in the eyes. "Now, do you think a nasty person like that deserves to be treated the same way as nice people?"

"Don't you--" Lady Black tried to cut in, but Tom stared up at Weasley with the most icy stare he'd ever marshaled and answered simply:

"Yes."

Mr. Weasley, who had clearly expected to be more persuasive, looked shocked, and out of the corner of his eye, Tom could see that Lady Black was wearing one of the widest shark's grins he'd ever seen. Relishing his defiance, Tom turned his attention back to Weasley, whose once kind stare had now hardened to be merely gruff and piercing - the same sort of stare that the children at the orphanage would give Tom when they were about to tease him.

"Well, Master Riddle," Weasley said with a slight twinge of disdain, "I think once we get you out of here and find your parents, they'll be very sorry indeed to hear you saying things like that. Especially considering your last name...you can't be one of Lady Black's type with a name like 'Ridd--'"

"He's an orphan, you ignoramus, Septimus Weasley!" Lady Black shrieked. "He's an orphan who I was kind enough to help, whatever you may think of me, and besides...'my type'?! What 'type' is that? If anything, it's you who has a type - you and your lot of spineless reformers who want to shut everyone up who disagrees with you! I'm just trying to keep the same edicts of wizarding heritage alive that produced the past thousand years of great witches and wizards, and which have not, as of yet, been violated by the birth of any extraordinary child with no wizarding parents! And for that, you would presume to not only deny me the equal protection of the wizarding community's laws, but also to turn children against me?!"

"They ought to be turned against you, Irma!" Nottingstom yelled. "You know just as well as I that it's not my fault my wife was killed by that explosion! It was an accident - if it hadn't been for that tea kettle she'd brought with her...and you, you evil harpy...you use it to try and insult me for marrying outside of your precious wizarding clique! How dare you?" His voice broke on these last words, and he fell silent. Weasley gave both Lady Black and Nottingstom curt looks, though Tom noted conspicuously more pity in his gaze as he looked at Nottingstom. Then, Weasley turned to Lady Black.

"Consider yourself lucky, Irma," Weasley said calmly, "that I am only warning you and not confiscating your wand. Don't try to protest. You obviously think insulting people who are less fortunate than you is funny, and even if that's not a crime, it ought to be. Now, buy your books and leave. And the rest of you, clear off!"

The crowd, clearly hoping for a longer confrontation, left reluctantly. Lady Black stayed, however, glaring at Weasley long after he had handed her wand back. As her hand closed on the handle, she spat a few words at him which Tom, due to his close proximity, had no difficulty hearing.

"You can't kick me out of this shop!" Lady Black hissed. "This is a private business! You don't have the power to evict me - only the storekeeper can do that."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll approve" said Weasley smoothly, albeit with a note of danger in his voice, "once I explain to him that it's my function as an Auror to enforce justice, and that means that occasionally people like him have to do their part to punish privileged, bigoted people like you, even if there's no Law saying they have to. For too long you pureblooded impediments to progress have hidden behind the Law, but that stops with me. It's my job to be socially responsible, Irma, and if I get my way, it'll be every Auror's job soon. And as for you," he turned back to Tom sharply, "remember this, young master Riddle, before it's too late: If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem. Good day, Irma."

Weasley swept out of the shop and Tom looked up at Lady Black. It took only one brief look at her eyes, which had formerly been filled with malicious defiance, but were now bleeding frustrated tears, to assure Tom that whatever else he had learned from the encounter, he very much wanted to be "part of the problem", whatever "the problem" might be.

It did not take long for Lady Black to notice that Tom's eyes were on her. Hastily, she drew out her handkerchief and in two swift, sharp strokes, she cleaved the tears off her cheek before replacing the handkerchief. Then, turning to Alphard, Walbuga and Cygnus, she said in her usual authoritative tone:

"Children, kindly go to the Herbology section and find the book on your list - it is the one text which is actually suitable for the subject - and then come back here. I need a moment to speak to Master Riddle."

The three others withdrew, and Lady Black approached Tom, a great deal of guarded admiration in her eyes which, to Tom's displeasure, did not mask the small note of tenderness which was still resounding from the same source.

"Tom, you behaved very well there," she said, "but if you're to make any difference at all in the Wizarding World, you mustn't put so much faith in your fellow wizards, especially...specimens," she spat the last word, "like Septimus Weasley. He's made his living stealing everything he has from people better than him, and thinks because he has it now, we owed it to him. You'll find far more like him in the wizarding world today...parasites who call themselves reformers. Avoid them, Tom. Avoid them, if you value your future."

"Lady Black--" Tom began, but Lady Black's eyes flashed and he fell silent.

"Do not interrupt me, Tom," her voice was severe, but there was still that small note of kindness in it. Then, without warning, she laughed sardonically, making the hairs on the back of Tom's neck stand up. "If it would not destroy my standing in wizarding society, I would seriously consider adopting you, young master Riddle." she said with a touch of sadness. "You have displayed traits which will clearly serve you well at Hogwarts, and will likely be a credit to whatever house accepts you. But the laws which a woman like me must abide by to have any standing whatsoever in the world I belong to would not permit it. Do not argue," she added, clearly seeing Tom's disappointment, "there is nothing to be said. However, before I leave you, I think the least I could do would be to buy you those books and perhaps...something to remember me by - a friends, perhaps? Someone who you could confide in, and about whom nobody would ever know? Yes, yes...I think I can manage that."

Tom did not immediately grasp what she meant, and felt bitterly disappointed that she would be unable to adopt him as he followed her out of the shop, the other three children having just returned and now walking dutifully in line behind their matriarch. However, suffice to say that by about fifteen minutes later, when Lady Black left Tom standing outside of a shop called the Magical Menagerie with a large bird cage under one arm and a fragile-looking, egg-shaped bundle stuffed into his cauldron, Tom's spirits had risen considerably as he charted his course to the nearby robe shop, and then back to the orphanage from whence he came.