House: Slytherin
Role/Year: 3rd year
Category Short
Prompt: 2. [Last Line] "No," I replied with a smile."'In fact, I think I'm only just beginning."
A Step Beyond Redemption
Everyone who commits murder must have an already splintered soul. You might as well make a few Horcruxes while you're there and blow it apart.
My thoughts and research on the subject had been confirmed by Professor Slughorn after one of his infamous his dinner parties. The old man was so desperate to live vicariously through the success of his students he would overlook anything. After all, I was his top student and he had said on many occasions that I was destined for great things, he was sure of it.
With a wry smirk I confidently entered the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Noise and chatter of dinnertime rush instantly hit my eardrums. Everyone was going about their business mindlessly, eating mouthful after mouthful of food, one meaningless interaction after another. No one sensed the imminent danger except for Professor Dumbledore perhaps who always kept a close eye on me.
I headed straight to the Slytherin table and took my seat with the sixth years. I politely greeted those around me, pretended to care about what they had to say, and proceeded to scrutinise the room.
As long as I can remember I was always an outsider, and coming to Hogwarts was no exception. Yes my magic was accepted and celebrated. But I never understood people and why they were so attached to each other. I had never felt attached to anyone, or anything. So in lieu of feeling, I learnt everything I could by watching them from the shadows. I often imagined myself to be a researcher who was observing an experiment. After some time I concluded that emotions were an unnecessary weakness and an obstacle to greatness. However they could always be exploited for my own purposes.
In the early days at Hogwarts, my classmates found me strange. It didn't bother me because I was different from them. I was superior. However as my plans evolved and my ambitions grew, I came to realise that I would need loyal followers. To achieve this, I needed to infiltrate their ranks. Our Slytherin year group was just like every other year group with the typical Quidditch players, the rich elitists, the academics, the jokers, and of course the knuckleheads. Everyone had their role except me. At the time I was an anomaly and my peers didn't know what to do. So little by little I too played a role, a role they could understand and accept.
Every day felt like an elaborate stage production. Each morning I would put on my mask of smug indifference and costume of green and perform as the character I had devised. It had taken time but I carefully carved myself a nice position within the group. I was considered to be an academic but not to be messed with on account of my extraordinary duelling skills. I purposely stayed out of trivial matters, and chose to follow the rules. I was able to go about my business unnoticed and even access the restricted section of the library.
But no one truly knew who or what I was. It was only when I was alone in the restricted section surrounded by the strands of dark magic that emanated from certain books that I could shed my skin. I was Lord Voldemort, heir to Slytherin, and I was going to take over the wizarding world.
I continued to casually scan the Great Hall whilst drinking pumpkin juice and eating measured mouthfuls of roasted ham and potato. I was looking for someone. Her name was Myrtle Warren. She was a mud blood, she was an outsider and she had no friends. No one would miss her immediately if she went missing, not even the teachers. She was perfect for my purpose.
I watched from across the room as the familiar scene played out in front of me. Myrtle was seated at the edge of the Ravenclaw table. Olive Thornby and her friends who were seated nearby had started to tease her. I couldn't hear exactly what they were saying but it was fair to guess it was something about her appearance. For she was rather unfortunate looking with drab brown hair, acne peppering her pale skin, and large thick glasses which made her look more like a bug than a girl.
Even from across the room, I could see Myrtle was getting upset. I had learnt to read the signs. Her eyes were squinting through her glasses as if trying to fend back tears, her mouth was quivering, and her hands were nervously fidgeting.
From my vantage point I could see Olive's friends were now whispering amongst themselves, no doubt getting ready for their next verbal ambush. However I wanted to move things along a little more quickly tonight. So I opened my diary and took out a piece of parchment I had written on earlier. I discretely cast a spell so it would fly up to the rafters, go around for a minute so it couldn't be traced back to me before landing right on Olive's lap. She really was the perfect pawn in all this. She was preppy, full of confidence, and not that intelligent.
I watched smugly as the parchment landed in Olive's lap. She promptly opened it, eyes wide and shared it with her friends. The group of girls started laughing hysterically and pointing at Myrtle. Knowing that Myrtle's teasing was about to escalate tenfold, I quickly finished what remained on my plate and excused myself. No one noticed when I left the Hall.
I walked quickly down the corridor and darted behind a pillar that was opposite the girl's bathroom. There I waited patiently in the shadows, like a spider waiting to catch a fly.
It was not long before the ever predictable sobs of Myrtle could be heard echoing down the passageway heading towards me. Emotions really were such a liability! I stood completely still as her footsteps got faster and closer. I dared not even breath in case she sensed something was amiss.
I waited until I heard the bathroom door creak open and shut before that I stepped out from behind the pillar. The door was painted in a stream of moonlight which beaconed. What a beautiful scene this would be I thought to myself.
I cast a quick silencing charm outside the door, so no one would hear anything. I then entered to bathroom with eager anticipation coursing through my veins. I purposely allowed the door to creak as I wanted Myrtle to know she wasn't alone. I then cast a locking spell, to ensure we wouldn't be interrupted.
I could hear sobbing from the far toilet from behind the closed door.
"Go away!" Myrtle wailed.
I didn't respond. No, instead I took a final breath, knowing this was the point of no return. This night would be a night to remember and would be marked in history. It would be the night that I could finally shed my skin once and for all and take up my rightful place as the heir to Slytherin. This would be the night I would smash my soul to pieces and in the process create my ultimate defence.
I looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, wand drawn and ready. Using my inherited gift of parseltongue I did what came naturally. I commanded the chamber to open and summoned the basilisk.
At first there was nothing, but soon rumble emanated from the sink until it began to move. The sink in fact disappeared before my eyes leaving a large wide pipe. Then out of the darkness of the chamber slithered the most beautiful and powerful creature I had ever seen. She was enormous, she was quick and she was ready for a mudblood. She knew who I was, so I knew I was in no danger.
Hearing the strange noises coming from the sink, I knew that Myrtle would open the toilet door to investigate any moment.
"Hello?" she called out in between sniffles.
The basilisk reacted quickly to the noise and launched towards the door ready to strike. Just as I had predicted, Myrtle opened the door only to be face to face with what I could only imagine to be her worst nightmare.
I stood to the side arms crossed, as Myrtle didn't even have time to scream.
Watching the event unfold in front of me it was everything I had imaged and more.
I had an overwhelming sense of excitement rush over me however this was not a time to be distracted. This is what it feels to be alive I thought to myself, as I casually walked out of the girls bathroom not sparing Myrtle a second glance. My soul was split and I could not have been happier if I tried. The only thing left to do was to create the Horcrux.
Before the door closed behind me, I heard the basilisk speak to me.
She simply said, "Is that all massster?"
"No," I replied with a smile. "In fact, I think I'm only just beginning".