Disclaimer: JK owns everything. I bow down before her as her lowly subject who hopes to some day achieve what she has in the way of genius.
Summary: This will be a collection of conversations had between Dumbledore and Tom Riddle over the course of Tom's years at Hogwarts.
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"Please Tom, do sit down." Albus Dumbledore waved his hand genially to the chair across from the desk in his office just outside the Transfiguration classroom. He waved his wand and two mugs of steaming tea appeared, along with a small plate of pastries. "Tea, Tom?"
Tom could feel anger and resentment boiling just beneath the surface, but he held strong to his façade. "No thank you, sir."
"Really Tom, it is pouring rain outside. Surely you could do with a nice cup of something hot."
"I am quite alright sir," he said, unnecessary sharpness slipping into his words.
Dumbledore sat. "Very well. Have a seat." He then proceeded to add milk to his tea, and he spent minutes debating between the raspberry scones or the buttery biscuits.
Tom could feel his own impatience growing with the silence in the room. He had to work to control his foot from tapping agitatedly on the floor.
After more minutes passed, Dumbledore spoke, "It is, Tom, an interesting quest to discover the perfect equilibrium of pastry and tea. There are many factors involved, much like brewing a fine potion, only more satisfying, of course, to the digestive system."
"Yes sir," said Tom flatly, wishing to be anywhere but with this man.
"Professor Slughorn has truly been quite impressed with your affinity for potions, Tom. I cannot count the number of times he has mentioned your brilliance for the subject to me over dinner."
"Yes sir," Tom said again.
Dumbledore looked at Tom through his glasses and Tom felt as though those blue eyes were piercing right through him. "I must apologize, dear boy, for the length of time it has taken for me to make this appointment. The beginning of a new school year is always quite hectic."
"I'm afraid I do not even understand why I am here, sir," said Tom, looking anywhere but into those eyes. "I do feel though, that it is not to discuss potions or pastries," he muttered.
Dumbledore chuckled. "Indeed Tom! Sharp as always, I see. But you must understand the true importance of good sustenance to a conversation. Discussions do not speak freely in hungry stomachs."
Tom could not help rolling his eyes. The man was aggravating. He simply wanted to go back to the library, back to his books, back to the intelligence of the authors and away from the ignorance of the students and faculty of the school.
"I can see that you are eager to escape my old professors' ramblings. I simply wanted to speak to you and see that you are comfortable here at Hogwarts. I feel as though we ended our last conversation on an uneasy note."
"Everything is fine, sir."
"How are you finding your classes?"
"They are good, sir."
"And friends? Are you making friends?"
Tom avoided eye contact to the best of his ability at this point. "Yes sir."
Dumbledore gave a small nod—a sad nod.
"Is that all, sir?" Asked Tom, trying to keep any hints of eagerness out of his voice.
Dumbledore surveyed Tom one final time. "Very well, Tom. If that is all, then yes, you may go."
Tom shot to his feet and took off through the door, leaving Dumbledore at his desk. The wizard stood and stared out the window, his mind still lingering on the eleven-year-old with the green eyes.
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A/N: I am a huge fan of the relationship between Dumbledore and Tom as teacher and student. There just seems to be so many different layers. As far as this goes, my updating will probably be sporadic at best unless inspiration hits hard and fast. I have been away from fanfiction for a little while because of school, and come the end of Spring Break I will be back to studying 24/7, so…this may get put on the back burner for a bit, but I will return. Thanks for reading, and feedback is most appreciated!
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