𝐀 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞 ║Tom Riddle ✔ [EDITING]

Chapter Nine: Voldemort Has Moves

"Why don't you apologize for ramming into me?!" I taunt, immensely angered at his presence.

He raises an eyebrow at me but ignores me, ultimately continuing along his route. I look around, not seeing anyone else except us, and wave my hand. Tom stops in place in an instant, superglued to the floor. I stroll towards him, my lips curving up into a smirk.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle." I muse and watch as my words have his head whipping up to stare at me in barely concealed shock. His mane of black locks follow the movement of his head, and I find my eyes following the sway of those black strands of hair.

"How do you know my middle name?!" He snarls, dark eyes getting darker, and I raise a brow.

"Ah. So I have your attention now. How quaint." I chortle, utterly disgusted by him.

"Valentine Dumbledore." He replies, voice bored but strained. "Who doesn't know the cousin of our Transfiguration professor." He says, looking away. "If you wanted attention, I'll have you know I find you utterly hideous and have no intention of ever looking at you twice. There are trolls who exceed in raw beauty." He drawls, and I blink in surprise at his words. Damn, he sure knew how to talk to girls. I sit on the rails of the stairs, staring at him silently.

How does this mere child become Lord Voldemort? "I didn't hear you say a spell, so how am I stuck here?" He asks, eyes curious.

"I didn't," I muse back, making him scoff.

"So what you did back in the Great Hall was truly non-verbal magic." He thinks out loud, and I smirk again.

"I thought you didn't want to look at me twice." I muse, making his eyes narrow on my form.

He waves a hand, silent, and he can move again. He slams his shoulder into mine, continuing his descent down the stairs. "Very mature," I tell his retreating back, hopping down from the stairs to watch him with a scowl filled with hate.

So the guy knew nonverbal and wandless magic as well. How marvellous. I scowl again and whirl around, literally marching in a fit of rage to see my grandmama.

I needed to see her smile again, even if it was just for a second.

I walk down the halls and round a corner. Her portrait was near the Hufflepuff dorms, so I didn't need to walk as far as I did when I lived in the Slytherin dorms.

I reach her portrait staring at my grandmama in adoration. Helga Hufflepuff wore a gorgeous brown and red dress that brought out the stunning shine in her matching hair. Her blue eyes so much like my own meet my own in confusion. "Hello, child. How can I help you?" She asks, and my eyes whelm in tears.

"Hi, Grandmama," I say with a watery smile. Her eyes crinkle in more confusion and the cup she was holding drops as she finally sees my face when I hold up my wand with the Lumos spell lit on it.

"Val!?" She demands, eyes widening in shock.

I thought that since I'd travelled to the past, she wouldn't have any recollection of ever meeting me.

"You remember me!?" I say with a happy cry, and she scoffs.

"As if I would forget my own grandchild. Honestly, child." She demands, making me I grin. "Why are you here?" She demands in worry, and I sigh, shaking my head.

"I can't really say." I cringe, looking around the hallways for anyone listening in. She nods, understanding alight in her eyes.

"Come, my child." She reaches out a hand, "Join me for tea, my sweet." She gives me a soft smile.

I look around, and thankfully, no one was around. Grinning back at my grandmama, I raise my wand. "Nox," I whisper, turning off the light and channelling my inner black magic to have it surround my entire body.

I reach towards the portrait my hand going straight into it.

Grandma Helga grabs my hand, pulling me into the painting, allowing the colours and paints to engulf my vision.

Perhaps I am the only person in the world, then, who never becomes sad. Perhaps I am lucky.

― Jonathan Safran Foer