Tom Riddle and the Pure-Blood Prince

Awful Aspirations

"I won't say a word, sir," said the boy, quite nearly a man and he turned to leave.

There came a wild exultation engulfed upon his face. Full of the disturbing pleasure of the boy's true smile.

Tom Riddle's brilliant mind whirled over the contents of Slughorn's spilling the beans on horcruxes to him just seconds ago.

His footsteps echoing down the charms corridor on the second floor, having just left the Slug Club meeting. Riddle recalled the Potions Master's obvious cluelessness towards his powers, "'you don't want to be caught out of bed after hours,....and you a prefect!'...well there was no chance of that happening!"

He glanced about the surrounding area, then made himself invisible, his fingers quivering while grasping that fifteen-inch yew wand.

Moments later, going down the stairs two at a time, Riddle breezed past the Dark Order members, Lestrange and Avery undetected by them. Both had just been at the Slug-Club meeting as well.

He got to the arched entrance into Slytherin muttering, "Tiger Lily" as the newly changed password done by Eileen. A glimmer of a silver outline like a mirage appeared. Riddle went through the momentarily clear wall.

The common room still held stragglers burning the midnight oil. Riddle crossed the threshold, past all the students unseen, consumed by an unknown passion, that seared his awful heart with virulent desire.

Going left towards the boy's tunnel beads of sweat slipped off his hollow cheeks from the excitement. He traversed down the sloping path of the tunnel, in heavy darkness, with only the light of his wand.

Swinging the door shut, with the post of "sixth years" on it Tom went into the bedroom he still shared with three other boys. He was looking forward to next year, in which he would surely be made Head Boy and have the honor of his very own dormitory.

But at least for now the others weren't present. Riddle knew they were probably sitting in the common room finishing their essays for Professor Slughorn, who had told them they'd be getting detention if they weren't handed in by tomorrow.

Undoing invisibility he was suddenly seeably present again. Riddle proceeded to open the box- shaped chest under his bed, where was stored valuable keepsakes.

He took out that little black book that was a diary on top of black-and-white flashy dressrobes recently purchased at Madam Malkin's at Diagon Alley. There was also a time-turner wrapped around a piece of parchment in there. The time-turner had been brought back from Augustus Rookwood, who stole it for his Lord, whilst visiting the Department of Mysteries. Rookwood was training to eventually become an Unspeakable when he got older. Tom Riddle had turned down his personal invitation, much to the dismay of the department. The Unspeakables had been disappointed on how a prodigal wizard like that, did not wish to study the great mysteries of life and magic.

With dawning comprehension and nearly insane look of glee, Riddle decided that the piece of proof of being Heir of Slytherin would be a horcrux. Just one piece of his goal of seven horcruxes, and of seven important murders! Gazing at the black-stoned ring, Tom felt a rush of nostalgia for his first murders. The Peverell Coat of Arms ring, now worn constantly on his right middle-finger would become Horcrux number two. As for the further horcruxes, Riddle only thought for now of the hope to obtain something. Some type of object of each founder of Hogwarts.

Riddle whiled away an hour, his brain working furiously, studying the complex problem of how to make a horcrux, for Professor Slughorn had said he didn't know the spell. Riddle knew it was true that the Potion Master's knowledge was limited as far as that. He briefly debated if the Transfiguration teacher, Dumbledore who was exceptionally powerful would know. He may, but the man was so full of ideas on "goodness" it was doubtful he knew how to actually make them either, was his thoughts on the subject. Besides that reason, young Voldemort was well aware Dumbledore was the only teacher who couldn't be charmed.

Around midnight he left his dorm, quite tired of this mega intellectual quandary. He knew it would take years of experimentation to discover for himself the knowledge of the Dark Arts that would lead to the answer on horcruxes. Even if he did know the spell, he wouldn't have tried it tonight, for he might accidentally kill himself!