Tom stumbled over the rubble, the only reason he stayed vertical was the Auror who caught him as he tripped. His normal grace, presumably a gift from whomever his father was, had deserted him amidst the carnage. Looking closer no one seemed to be dead. Mediwizards had flooded the hall after the attacker retreated and their charms had stabilized the worst cases. There was blood scattered everywhere though, from the slaughtered conjured animals and the injuries. Merrythought's arm was sitting by itself, the wand still gripped in her hand and a lone column of smoke rising from the scorched end. Whenever they'd rushed her off they'd forgotten it, of course with a curse like that it wouldn't be going back on.

She was one of the unlucky ones at that, Malfoy and the aurors had been tossed around but their wounds were not directly magical and a few potions would go a long way in healing them. It was a sign of how much the professor had troubled the sorcerer, he could have killed everyone in the room with his talents and only by his will had there been no deaths. It was strange to think if she'd just been a little less competent she might have emerged unscathed.

It was troubling too, Merrythought had been far above Tom and the wizard had just played with her, only taking her somewhat seriously when she launched an Unforgivable. If it hadn't been for Dumbledore Tom would have been dead, a fact which rankled until he reached the doors of the hall and he had other things to focus on.

The black orb had seemingly sucked in all of the dust and detritus from the battle along with the door's rubble, the floor was as spotless as any house elf could wish but beyond the area of its effect the hall was a warzone. Scorches covered the walls, parts looked like the stone had been set aflame. Dippet was the first professor they passed, presumably the last to fall. A mediwitch was kneeling at his side casting charms with an air of angry confusion, at Dumbledore's gesture they stopped to talk to her.

"How is your patient Healer Stennings?"

The witch looked up even as her wand continued mechanically. "He's mostly fine, a few contusions and some minor fractures that a dose of Skele-Grow will cure it's only…" She turned back to the motionless, well not quite still Tom noticed, his chest was moving, Headmaster. "His skeletal muscles, all the voluntary ones really, they're disabled, he's awake in there but he can't consciously move a muscle."

"He's paralyzed?" The worry in Dumbledore's voice was evident, for all the rumors about how much he coveted the job he did seem concerned about the man. "Is there any hope for a cure?"

Stennings nodded, keeping her eyes down. "The magic is weakening, and why would he use a curse that complicated when to kill him would have been so much easier? I heard he only tried to kill one person, some student." She looked up then, her eyes moving from the aurors and Dumbledore to Tom. "You?"

One of the aurors stepped forward then, a short and wiry man who did his best to loom anyways. "We can't comment on ongoing investigations. Don't spread rumors."

"Of course, of course," she babbled, looking back and forth between them. If Tom had to guess it would be five minutes until she told everyone that aurors had escorted a Slytherin prefect out. Well the entire Great Hall had seen, it was never going to be a secret.

Dumbledore took charge then, leading them off the path of destruction and up the stairs. "My office I think." Tom took one last look at the damage to the halls and followed him, flanked by the two aurors.

Leaving the site of the attack was like stepping into a different world. Instead of the wreckage and dust it was just another Hogwarts corridor, one Tom rarely went down except for patrols but familiar nonetheless. They slowed as they reached a door. He'd never been to Dumbledore's office and was surprised when they walked right past it. "This wall has its little joke, I think the castle wants us to stay young. Through here actually." He pressed his hand into the apparent stone wall next to the door and it swung open, revealing a wooden frame that Tom was quite sure hadn't been there a moment prior.

Dumbledore either didn't notice or was used to guests being shocked as he strode in. With a single wave he conjured three tall leather backed chairs in front of his desk as he reached into his robe and pulled out the baby bird setting it on a perch. Tom glanced at it, even for Dumbledore carrying a baby bird was odd but- "You have a phoenix?"

Dumbledore grinned even as the ugly looking chick preened. "Perhaps you could say that Fawkes has me; but I flatter myself into agreeing with you." Fawkes chirped briefly before putting his head under his wing. "We're both lucky to have him though, he has a knack for taking me just where I need to be as you saw."

The explosion of flame. Tom had thought it was just some obscure portkey variant that a professor might use to get through the wards, but it was the phoenix. "They can apparate through the Hogwarts wards?" Tom was beginning to think there might be more to light magic than he'd realized.

"Well it's not quite apparition, their magic is not like ours of course, but if you want to ask about Fawkes we can indulge his ego later. These gentlemen have questions."

"Quite right Dumbledore." The older of the two aurors, his remaining hair going grey, pulled out a notebook and quill as he spoke. "Now Mr. Riddle if you could state your name for the record?"

The interrogation was brief: no Tom had never met, seen, or heard of the wizard. He had no idea why he was attacking or what he could have done to provoke him. Eventually the Aurors seemed to agree, they exchanged a look and stood only for Dumbledore to speak for the first time since they started. "Whoever the wizard was he hated Mr. Riddle, this was a crime of passion, not some careful plot."

"How could you tell?" The younger auror beat Tom to the question but only just.

"I could see it in his eyes."

The younger auror looked awed but the elder who had done most of the talking looked unimpressed. "Right then, we'll make a note of it." He had shut his book quite firmly as he said it and was halfway out the door a moment later. The younger one seemed to want to say something but after some slight indecision followed.

Dumbledore exhaled, too short and too sharp to be a sigh, but it conveyed his feelings quite well. "Mr. Riddle, try to remember that on your way up you shouldn't step on too many people. They surface in the strangest spots."

"Of course sir." The day which had started so well had truly jumped the track. Not an hour ago he had been marked for death and now he sat alone with the professor who had always hated him. He waited another minute feeling increasingly uncomfortable as the silence stretched on. "Sir? May I leave?"

He didn't immediately respond and Tom was about to ask again when Dumbledore answered. "You know Mr. Riddle you remind me very much of a wizard I once knew."

The day could in fact grow stranger, story time with Dumbledore had not been on the agenda. "Sir?"

"He was clever, too clever some said, and destined for great things, he knew he was destined for great things." He stared at Tom now over his long steepled fingers with his vivid blue eyes gleaming. "The professors were charmed and he went forth and made allies, not truly friends but useful people who were captivated by his talent and drive." Dumbledore wasn't even looking at Tom anymore, gazing at the ceiling or perhaps memories only visible to him. "He eventually went too far and lost some of his allies, but for a man with a dream and power there are always more."

"Who was he?"

"Take a guess Mr. Riddle, you certainly know his name." Tom thought furiously, for all that he didn't much like Dumbledore and didn't want to humor him, he hated to seem ignorant. Of course this was Dumbledore, his story was likely allegorical or even more probably his own history framed as a fairy tale, it would fit the man's narcissism and belief in the higher mysteries of magic to try to sway a child from his own path.

"You sir?"

Dumbledore frowned, his face twisting far from his usual expression. "Not quite, I was referring to Grindelwald. I can see how you might draw the conclusion though, there are similarities between all three of us if you look. Even if you don't wish to see them."

Tom was now very ready to leave the office, he had thought that the other teachers didn't see through his genial facade but Dumbledore had apparently already identified his quest for power and worse had picked him out as a budding Dark Lord. "Is that all sir?"

"Not quite Mr. Riddle if you can restrain yourself just a few minutes longer." Dumbledore shuffled through his desk looking for something until he gave up and turned back on Tom. "First, I was not wrong when I said that man hated you. There is a magic you probably haven't heard of that lets one see another's memories and emotions. His entire being, for the brief glimpse I managed, was enraged at my interference." He paused as if hoping for Tom to volunteer a reason. Unfortunately Tom had as little idea as anyone so after the awkward pause Dumbledore went on. "Second, he is extraordinarily talented in combat, I'm sure you noticed he was leaving all of his opponents alive, due not to weakness, but his overwhelming skill. Third, you are safe where I am. However I have other responsibilities and I cannot be chained to the school much less guard your home in the summer."

While Tom was still excited over the prospect of an epic enemy he was forced to admit that Dumbledore had a point. The other wizard hadn't been slowed at all until Dumbledore had arrived with a bird he might as well have named Deus ex Machina. Of course the conclusions the old man stated were pretty obvious, so obvious that Tom was beginning to wonder why he had taken the time to state them. Especially now, the castle was in chaos, the staff was incapacitated and hundreds of panicked students were in the great hall; it was hardly time for a chat about Tom's inevitable death by an enraged mysterious wizard.

"While I am grateful for the advice sir, I don't see that I have any chance then." The one edge he possibly had, perhaps even just a place to hide, was nothing that he wanted to share with Dumbledore. Of course Dumbledore had just admitted to reading minds so he might already know. Tom started to think if he'd ever thought of his hunt in Dumbledore's presence then stopped when he realized it might only alert him. The only thing to do was get out of here but Dumbledore didn't seem to be finished.

"By yourself you don't." Dumbledore's habit of saying a single sentence then patiently waiting for a reaction was beginning to annoy Tom, especially because it might be the reason he did it. "However you are a student and as I am a professor your well-being is my responsibility. I cannot promise safety outside the walls of Hogwarts but if you wish to avoid returning to your home you may accompany me on my tasks this summer."

Tom was frozen, frantically trying to adapt his plans to this new option. Spending the summer with one of the greatest wizards in the world, especially one who could defend him should be an easy choice, but it was Dumbledore.

The wizard noted his indecision, leaning forward anxiously. "I will do my utmost to ensure you are protected either way; I do have some small influence with the ministry and Fawkes will carry me if I am needed."

There was so much Tom planned to do, having a mind reading Dumbledore watching his every step might help for now at the cost of all his ambitions. No he would continue. He would find the Chamber, he would hide and survive the summer and then one day- "It's not that I'm not grateful-"

Dumbledore sharply cut him off before he could finish, "Mr. Riddle I implore you to reconsider. We have our differences, for which I bear no small blame, but are they worth your life?" His words came faster now as his voice rose. "That man came through the wards of Hogwarts without breaking a sweat; your orphanage or any other refuge you can secret yourself in will not match them. You're just a student, talented but you cannot match his magic. You will have guards I promise, but one unconnected boy hardly merits enough to present an obstacle."

"Nonetheless sir-"

"You don't trust me and plan to hide. Don't lie, you're practically screaming it." His formerly bright eyes were cold now, for the first time Tom saw some of the similarities Dumbledore claimed with the Dark Lord. "I cannot say you are likely to succeed, any wizard that skilled in combat will have ways to search you out, but it is your life. There are months yet until summer, I hope you use your time to find wisdom in addition to your paranoia." He stood then, his tall frame towering over the desk. "We both have things to do, good day Mr. Riddle."

Tom hurriedly retreated, already second-guessing himself. He had just turned down perhaps his best chance at survival, and all for ambitions he had yet to realize. Of course like Dumbledore said, he had months to change his mind if he failed. The stakes had been raised though, this morning he had been working to unseat Malfoy as the power in Slytherin and now he had to worry about his life.

His feet had taken him to the Slytherin common room and he muttered the password, not bothering to command it using his gift. Walking through the portal he was met by a sea of faces. With Malfoy in the hospital it was the other prefect in charge, McKinney a short girl with long memory for slights. She had been speaking from the way everyone was arranged, but whatever she had been saying was far less interesting than Tom's arrival. Normally the attention would be something Tom craved but today there were more important things than other students. They disagreed of course.

The better part of a hundred voices were raised and demanding answers. "Tom who was?" "What did you-" "Are you?" A sound like a string of firecrackers silenced the clamour.

"Mr. Riddle is still alive and thus has plenty of time to answer questions," McKinney drawled, her wand still emitting puffs of smoke. "But as he spoke to the Aurors he cannot answer them until he is given permission." The Aurors hadn't mentioned any such thing to him, but one look at her was enough to see what she was up to.

"She's right, ongoing investigations have to be kept confidential" he finished with a smile, it didn't hurt to play along for now. Any time not spent answering idiots' questions was well spent; trading a constant interrogation for one conversation was worth it.

As some of the Slytherins filtered out of the common room to their dorms McKinney moved towards Tom, he headed to a pair of armchairs and began casting charms to ensure they wouldn't be overheard. When he finished McKinney still hadn't arrived, he turned to look and saw she had gotten hung up talking to some first years who were throwing worried glances at him. They were just the first Tom realized, he had spent so much time cementing his reputation as the perfect student, helpful, skilled and courteous and that wizard had brought it all crashing down. Who now would easily trust a boy who had such enemies? Being above suspicion had given him much before, professors, the groundskeeper, even the librarian had been willing to look the other way or help. That was gone. Even Slughorn, how much would he aide a boy who had somehow gotten himself into so much trouble?

Tom was under no illusions when it came to his Head of House. The man's actions were selfish, if he didn't think Tom could help him all of the introductions and recommendations would disappear. He'd cut his losses and not endanger his own network by bringing in a mudblood boy with a murderer on his tail. He wouldn't risk himself to save Tom. As McKinney finally sat down Tom was beginning to reconsider Dumbledore's offer.