The Rise Of The Dark Arts
The Great Hall was full of decorations. A huge banner behind the teacher's proclaimed, "Good Luck Seventh Year Students" in flashing, bold writing. A boy with jet black hair (A/N: No, its NOT Harry!) and what looked like a permanent smirk sat at the Slytherin table. A Head Boy badge glinted on his chest.
"Where's the meeting after the party, Tom?" asked a muscly looking boy next to him.
"It's in that small field behind the Three Broomsticks McNair," said Tom, "I've already told you that!" Tom had a dangerous glint in his eyes as he glared at McNair.
"Right, sorry Tom," mumbled McNair.
Tom rolled his eyes, and focused his attention on Professor Dippet, the current Headmaster of Hogwarts. The Headmaster stood up, and clearing his throat, prepared to make his speech.
"Welcome to your last feast at Hogwarts. All of you are leaving us now, to become fully-fledged citizens of the magical community. You will go onto find jobs, and pursue your dreams."
I'll pursue my dreams all right, thought Tom.
"You have created special ties and bods with your teachers and your fellow students, and all of the staff wish you to keep as many of those bonds as possible, as the will help you through your life. We trust you have gotten all you can out of your education here at Hogwarts, and can now pursue the careers of your choice."
I've definitely got all I can out of my education. The restricted section of the library was especially helpful, thought Tom, now openly sneering.
"All of your teachers now wish you the best of luck, and may you now go out into the world, and succeed in whatever choice you have made."
At this all the students cheered, and threw their hats into the air. Tom spotted a few of the girls on the Hufflepuff table crying. He smirked even more.
"Look at those weaklings," he said to McNair. "Crying just because their leaving school. This is one of the best things that could have happened to me. I've been waiting for this moment all my life."
McNair smiled evilly, and rubbed his hands together. Tom Riddle smiled. Yes, he would be pursing his dreams. Tonight was the first of the rituals he needed to do to make him become immortal. He would soon rise, no longer as Tom Marvalo Riddle, but as Lord Voldemort. He would become one of the most feared Dark Wizards of all time. People would soon fear to speak his name. Tom caught the gaze of one of the professors, Professor Dumbledore. Tom felt slightly afraid. Dumbledore was the only person he was scared of. He knew things Tom hadn't even heard of, despite his studies. He sneered at the sight of him, but deep down, he was very afraid of Professor Dumbledore. Tearing away from the professors penetrating gaze, he walked out of the Great Hall, making his way for the place of his first ritual...