Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Written for round 7 of the QLC.
Chosen prompts: 1. (word) happy & 14. (word) critters.
BEATER 2: Riddle's Diary.
The success of turning his diary into his first Horcrux had left Tom Riddle feeling strangely happy and almost content. As he held the diary in his hands and knowing that within his hands lay a piece his of soul, was exhilarating.
Tom had never felt such things before and he wanted nothing more than to hold onto' the feeling for as long as possible.
He wanted to thank the Basilisk for giving him this experience of exhalation. Because it obeying his orders and killing Myrtle was enough to stain his soul to create a Horcrux. His beautiful Horcrux trapped in a diary. The even more beautiful thing was he had gotten away with it.
Rubeus Hagrid had gotten the blame due to his fascination with dangerous critters.
The only person who suspected him of being the heir was Dumbledore and the old fool couldn't prove his suspicions.
The great Albus Dumbledore did not how far into the path darkness he was traveling anyway. No one knew that within his hands was the first object used in his quest for immortality.
The urge to take his diary and gloat to Dumbledore on how he achieving what witches and wizards had wanted for centuries, but he pushed the urge deep down.
He wasn't stupid, he knew the old man would destroy the beautiful thing he'd created because he wouldn't see it as beautiful. No, he'd see it as something hideous and evil.
Tom did not understand how creating something that would keep you alive, make you immune from the cold grasp of death could be considered evil.
Yet that is what Slughorn had told him when he started his journey towards making himself immortal.
But it hadn't felt evil when he chose the diary to be' the first Horcrux, it hadn't felt evil when he was making the Horcrux and it didn't feel evil now.
Tom's warped feelings of what was good and evil led him to believe that Professor Slughorn said those things because he frightened and not able to understand the true magnificence in destroy someone else to escape death.
To him it was the only logical explanation to his head of house condemnation of such an act.
But he would show the world that good and evil was merely a myth to keep people in line. When truthfully there was only power.
The wonderful blank pages black diary would aid him in opening their eyes to what there really was.
If they could only see what he was becoming because he had rid himself of good and evil, light and dark then they'd understand the brilliance of shedding themselves of such things.
But alas they could not and his hunger to make them see was increasing daily.
Maybe it was because somewhere deep down he wanted somebody to say what he had done was indeed right or maybe he wanted to boast how powerful he was becoming.
The latter was more likely, Tom could not help wondering if the piece of him in the diary could still feel what he felt.
It was part of his being and yet it was separate now, They were one and broken at the same time.
To his knowledge only one other person had created a Horcrux, everyone else was too horrified at what it took to be able to create it to do it. So there was very little knowledge of what his soul now was.
Was the diary now a considered a living being because it had a soul?.
If something had a soul was it living?, even if it were only a book?. A question to which he'd liked to hear debated among people.
He would also like to know if a man with no soul was considered living? and how many times did some one have to tear their soul apart for it to be that the person was no longer considered having a soul.
He planned to make six more Horcruxs, they wouldn't be as special as his first. But it didn't matter, what really mattered was would ripping apart his soul that many times make him no longer living?, Would he become almost a god because he was unable to die.
Tom was no longer holding the diary now, instead he'd shoved it in his bag and began to pace in an effort to answer his own questions.
He was beginning to lose his earlier feelings of happiness and exhilaration, he was beginning to feel angry and frustrated at his lack of answers.
He'd always sought knowledge. Always wanted answers, he wasn't the type to just leave something as a mystery. It was that had driven him to discover he was the heir of Slytherin. It was that drive that drew him to the rare book that had told him about Horcruxs.
His quest for immorality and him practicing the dark arts was all for knowledge, for answers.
He would not deny that part of it was down for his thirst to conquer, to rule. But fundamentally it was so he could pass on his knowledge and wisdom.
He would teach those who denied themselves the knowledge because they'd been infected with what was considered morally right by people who was less than them.
The people who tainting their blood, condemning years of tradition and pushing their ways onto witches and wizards.
Tom believed that everything he was doing, everything he was going to do was for the wizarding world.
To save, to free and teach them.
His first Horcrux was the beginning, the accidental creation of his last would ultimately be the end of him.