*Dedicated to @Night_Sky_333 because she is stressing over her computer programming project with me, and for her to keep up the good work :D
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I dove into the matron's mind, narrowing my eyes as I picked out the specific memory in less than a second.
Tom Marvolo Riddle.
Mrs. Cole was sitting in her desk, across from an older man with an auburn beard, clad in plum velvet garments. It was unmistakably Dumbledore.
"I am here, as I told you in my letter, to discuss Tom Riddle and his arrangements for his future," Dumbledore said, his half moon glasses glistening.
"Are you family?" Mrs. Cole asked.
"No, I am a teacher," Dumbledore replied, "I have come to offer Tom a place at my school."
"What is this school?"
"It's called Hogwarts."
"And how come you are interested in Tom?"
"We believe he has the qualities we are looking for," Dumbledore answered.
"You mean, he's won a scholarship? How can he when he never applied for one?" Mrs. Cole asked sharply. She was no fool.
"Well," Dumbledore said, "his name has been down for our school since birth--"
"Who registered him? His parents?"
Deception was needed at this point.
Dumbledore pulled out his wand from his suit before waving it before a piece of perfectly blank paper before placing it towards Mrs. Cole. "Here, I think this will make everything clear--"
Mrs. Cole's eyes slid in and out of focus as she stared intently at the blank piece of paper.
"That seems to be in order," she said placidly before spying a bottle of gin and two glasses, magically conjured in a heartbeat. "Err--" she looked at the bottle with a new look in her eyes before turning to Dumbledore, "may I offer you a glass of gin?" she asked with an extra layer of refinement in her manner.
"Yes, thank you," Dumbledore beamed, and I knew exactly what he was up to. It was clear that he knew that Mrs. Cole had a habit of a drinker. Pouring a generous measure into both glasses, she drowned her own glass in one gulp. She smacked her lips with relish before smiling at Dumbledore for the first time since he walked into her office. Dumbledore didn't hesitate in pressing his advantage.
"I was wondering whether you could tell me anything about Tom Riddle's history? I think he was born here in the orphanage?" he paused interrogatively.
"That's right," Mrs. Cole said, helping herself to another glass, clearly not having many comforts as the matron, "I remember it clear as anything because I'd just started here, myself. New Year's Eve and bitter cold, snowing, you know. Nasty night. And this girl, not much older than I was myself came staggering up towards the doorsteps. Well, she wasn't the first. We took her in and she had the baby within the hour. And she was dead in another hour." Mrs. Cole nodded impressively, enjoying herself with a willing audience and a glass of gin in the other hand.
"Did she say anything before she died?" Dumbledore questioned, "like the boy's father?"
"Now, it so happened that it did," she said, "I remember she said to me, 'I hope he looks like his papa' and I won't lie, she was right to hope it, because she was no beauty-- and then she told me he has to be named Tom for his father and Marvolo, for her father. Yes, I know, funny name, isn't it? We wondered if she came from a circus, and she said the boy's surname was Riddle. And she died soon after that without another word. Well, we named him, just like she said, it seemed so important to the poor girl but no 'Tom' or 'Marvolo' came to claim the orphan, so he stayed here ever since."
Mrs. Cole absentmindedly helped herself to another gin, as she murmured, "He is a funny boy."
"Yes," Dumbledore said without concern, "I thought he might be."
"Hardly cried when he was a baby, you know," Mrs. Cole had a faraway look in her eyes, "and then, when he got older...he got a little odd."
"Odd in what way?" Dumbledore asked gently.
"Well he--" Mrs. Cole suddenly looked attentive despite the two pink spots on her cheeks. She looked at Dumbledore through the top of her gin glass, "You say he definitely has a spot in your school?" she asked furtively.
"Definitely."
"And nothing I can say can change that?" she asked.
"Nothing," replied Dumbledore.
She squinted at him for a while, before saying in a hushed voice, deciding to trust him, "He scares the other children."
"You mean, he is a bully?" Dumbledore asked.
"I think he must be," Mrs. Cole said, frowning, "but it's very hard to catch him at it. There had been incidents...Nasty things..." Mrs. Cole shuddered as she drank more gin before saying, "Billy Stubb's rabbit....well, Tom said he didn't do it ad I don't see how he could have done, but even so, it didn't hang itself from the rafters, did it?"
"I shouldn't think so," Dumbledore said quietly.
"But I'm jiggered to know how he did it," Mrs. Cole continued, "All I know is that he and Billy argued the day before. And then-- well, on the summer outing-- we take them out, you know, once a year, to the countryside or to the seaside-- well, Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop were never quite well afterwards, and all we ever got out of them was that they'd gone into the cave with Tom Riddle. He swore they'd just gone out exploring, but something happened there. I'm sure of it. And well, there have been many things, funny things...." She looked around at Dumbledore. "Well, I don't think many people will be sorry to see the back of him."
"You understand, I'm sure," Dumbledore said, "he will have to return here, at the very least, every summer."
"Oh, that's better than a whack on the nose with a rusty poker," Mrs. Cole said, surprisingly on her two feet as she beckoned towards the professor, "I suppose you would like to see him?"
"Very much."
Mrs. Cole led him out of her office and up the stone stairs, calling out instructions to helpers. The children were like the ones I saw today-- reasonably well cared for but the same empty looks were in their eyes. This was a grim place to grow up.
"And here we are," Mrs. Cole said, as they passed the second landing and to the first door on the second corridor. She knocked twice and entered. "Tom? You've got a visitor. This is Mr. Dumberton--sorry, Professor Dunderbore. He's come to tell you-- well, I'll let him do it--" she exited with a slight hiccup as she left Dumbledore with Tom Riddle. Even at eleven years old, he was tall and handsome with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. But I could see the darkness underneath. Mrs. Cole had nothing more to give, but before I could even exit the memory, I felt a cold hand latch onto my wrist, nearly making me cry out as I escaped from her memory.
I looked up, trying to look at the person who was gripping my arm in a deathly hold. Mrs. Cole's face was slightly frozen, but I heard the familiar smooth voice. "I just heard that my fellow student has come here and decided to welcome her, Mrs. Cole." The words were respectful, and despite Mrs. Cole's suspicion, something about Tom's voice lulled people into a sense of false security. He put on the act of the reformed little boy quite brilliantly. My eyes met his blue ones.
"Of course," Mrs. Cole said, waving her hand, "you two must have a lot to catch up on." Tom smiled respectfully, his fingers digging into my skin but I didn't wince as he grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me down the hallway and into a familiar room. The room that I glimpsed in the memory. The only thing that changed was the Hogwarts trunk near his bed. He released me, as I stared up at him defiantly.
"You have a lot of gall to enter into the same orphanage," he said, his voice light, but deceiving. That was the kind of person he was-- the angrier he was, the more deceptive he would act.
I brushed the hair out of my face. "Rest assured, Riddle," I said silkily, "not everything is about you. If I had the choice, I would have moved to an orphanage in France. At least I would be a significant amount of miles away from your presence."
Tom stepped forwards, part of his intimidation. "Out of all the orphanages in the world--" he trailed off, his eyes cold, "I don't believe in coincidence, Robins."
"At least we agree on something," I replied nonchalantly, "if it isn't obvious, Dumbledore probably had a say in my guardianship, being the amount of influence he has in Hogwarts. Therefore, it is in my belief that he place due here specifically so I can continue my little spy job."
He cocked his head to the side. "Are you not loyal to him?"
I looked up at him. "If you don't believe in coincidence," I said softly, "then I don't believe in loyalty."
Tom chuckled. "You certainly don't act like a grieving orphan."
"Speaking of which," I said, narrowing my eyes, "how did you know where I was?"
"This orphanage is not that big, Robins," he said, "and I tend to keep on top of things. News travels fast that a red haired witch comes into the establishment."
"So it's you that really controls the place," I said clearly, "Mrs. Cole-- how do you manipulate her? Like the rest of your lackeys?"
Tom cocked his head to the side. "It's not manipulation, Robins," he said softly, "they are too insignificant, too narrow-minded. They all need me to think for them."
I felt a slight chill in his words, but suppressed it. "Are you trying to intimidate me?" I asked, crossing my arms, "if so, you should know I work with a Dark Wizard. You can't intimidate me."
"Can't I?" Riddle asked, stepping closer, as I stepped back. And he stepped forwards. There was no more space. He smirked. "You think you are so strong, Robins, but you are weak. You think you are so secretive, but you are so emotional. You are a walking contradiction. You don't believe in loyalty? Then why do you and Dumbledore believe in both good and evil; in the mysterious power of love?" he almost spat at me, "there is no good or evil, right or wrong. There is only power and those too weak to attain it. You are a race of hypocrites who believe in good but live for evil. Our tiny little lives don't matter when death conquers us in the end."
I felt my heart shrink. His words didn't scare me; the fact that I thought about them scared myself deeper than I cared to admit. But I regained my defiance. "So that's why you are using the Horcruxes, because you think you are so much better?" I stepped forwards this time, my eyes blazing. "You think you are so smart, Riddle," I said, pacing around him, "you think you are so closed off from the rest of the human race, but you are not. I can see through you--" I said, staring deep within those merciless eyes, "and I see nothing. You said that there is only power and those weak not to attain it? What do you know about power? Do you know the consequences? Do you know how much you need to sacrifice?"
"You think I won't pay the price?" his voice was pleasantly smooth.
"Power comes at the expense of one's life," I said, "and you can't die. You are a child playing a man's game."
He did not rage. His eyes simply narrowed at the force of my words, but then recovered in a flash. "And you think you are so powerful?" he asked softly.
"It takes someone weak to know power," I murmured, "everyone is weak inside, even you." My eyes were raised at his face. "You are so weak it disgusts me."
His eyes flashed at my words. Grabbing me by the arms, he slammed me against the wall, his fury uncontainable. I refused to flinch. He lowered his head to match my height, as he said in a low, unforgiving voice, "Weak? What makes you think I'm weak? The fact that I was strong enough to make Horcruxes? Does that scare you, Robins--" his grip tightened painfully, "does that scare you?"
I forced myself to meet his furious gaze. "Yes," I said truthfully, "it does." I remembered Mrs. Cole's memory, looking at him straight in the eyes. "So is that why you killed your father?"
He stiffened.
"You may not think so, Riddle, but you care," I said, the tables turned, "you care so much it hurts, you care so much that you wanted to conquer death. All those children and their families walking by, doesn't it make you jealous? But you refuse to admit it. You think that love is so weak, yet, you killed your father because you know what your mother went through. You cared so much of what he thought about you. But he didn't, did he? He never cared---" my voice turned cold, "and that's why you killed him. You are a boy controlled by emotions, Tom Riddle."
He was silent for a time before he released me and closed the door to the room. His eyes were completely unemotional. "You are trying to stop me," he said, "you are trying to deter me, derail me. You are trying so hard to justify me, Robins--" his voice was mocking, "how pathetic."
"You were right about one thing," I said, standing up and walking towards him, "you are a monster. You are a cold blooded monster. But that doesn't mean you have no heart." I faced him, crossing my arms. "This summer, Tom Riddle, you have a motive. I refuse to believe that you just came to spend your ordinary days at this pathetic orphanage. Don't think I didn't notice you prowling around the halls, your seclusion from your followers. You are planning to make another Horcrux."
Tom Riddle stared deep into my eyes. "Do you think I trust you after that last incident, Robins?" he questioned, laughing spitefully.
"You made me take the Unbreakable Vow," I shot back, "and I am not willing to pay the consequences. You don't need my supposed loyalty, just my life threat."
A prolonged moment of silence in which we studied each other, adversary against opponent. A mental chess game. An invisible fight.
He finally broke away our stare, as he gestured for me to sit on the chair. He took a seat on his bed across from me before he took a deep breath. "Ravenclaw's Diadem," he finally said, "I found it, I know where it is."
"Where?" I questioned, feeling my mind swaying confusingly with adrenaline.
He looked into the distance before turning to me, a slight wicked smile on his lips. "How do you feel about Albania, Robins?"
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I decided I should start doing dedications-- don't worry about the order, I want to include everyone. And yes, this chapter is dedicated to my good friend Night_Sky_333 and I wanted her to stop stressing so much about her project and read and relax. So, all of you may thank her for inspiring this. Thank you all for your supportive comments and I really appreciate each and every one of your thoughts so don't be afraid of commenting :D