Chapter two: Tom goes back to school.
Draco was awake. He had been awake for about two hours, but he was unable to move his body, or even open his eyes. He could hear people talking around him, but it was muffled like it would sound if he wasn't really listening. Draco remembered what happened in Charms class and he assumed he was in the hospital wing, if not in St. Mungo's. Father's probrably raising hell. Draco thought to himself as he recognized Lucius' voice.
Yes, he does sound angry, doesn't he? A foreign voice said, as the voices became much clearer.
What the hell, he tried to say, but he found he could not speak. He realised that he had no control of his body, and, Draco had no other way to put it, the voice in his head chuckled wickedly.
Understanding now, are you? The voice said, and he felt a pain as he knew, without a doubt, that this visitor was accessing all of his memories, from his father verbally abusing him when Potter won once again at Quidditch, even to when he was on the Inquisitorial Squad for that foolish woman Umbridge, who he hated but founded and joined for the benefit of his father. This person saw every embarassment, every failure, every painful memory and even the good ones but this ruthless individual seemed particular to the more painful ones. Finally he seemed to know enough about Draco and released his hold, but Draco still had no control over his body and now felt the presence of him, Draco singled him out to a male at least, now that he was awake.
Who are you? Draco said to him.
Well, since we will be sharing this body for awhile, I suppose you may know my name. It is Tom. Tom Riddle.
Ok, Riddle, why in the bloody hell are you in my body, and how did you get the fuck in here?
Draco could almost feel him smile.
Well you see, Draco, when you went and got yourself fucked up at whatever you did earlier, your spirit flickered in my plane, and, to my great fortune of course, I followed your spirit back to your body, and what do you know, here I am. But unfortunately, you came with and that wasn't the plan. Sadly for you, I am in control, and I will wreak the vengance I deserve, get my powers back from Potter, and become even greater than my future self is now!
So were you a ghost or something? Were you dead? Draco thought to Riddle. Draco thought that his name sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it.
Of course my name sounds familiar to you. Your father only follows my future self, you insolent child. Tom answered his unspoken thought
Draco's insides seemed to disappear as he realised just who he was talking to. He remembered Lucius telling him the true story four years ago, shortly after Ginny Weasley was recovered from the Chamber of Secrets, that Tom Riddle, Voldemort as a boy in Hogwarts had crammed his memory into a diary and Lucius had given Weasley the book. Draco had thought it was a good idea to get a Weasley messed up in it, but it didn't work. Weasley had gotten off, because of Potter, saving the bloody day once again and keeping his nose out of the dirt.
About time you understand, Draco Malfoy. Riddle jeered.
Riddle sounded a little more exited about murdering Potter than he enjoyed, since the murder would most likely be committed in his body. He had to think of something to do.
Don't bother, young Draco. I will kill the preteen Potter and the brat Weasley and you will not stop me.
Preteen? It was the last thing he said to Riddle as the parasitic boy opened his own eyes and saw the view before him.
Tom Riddle opened Draco's eyes, and saw Dumbledore, though much more ancient than he was when Tom was in school, a short wizard Tom recognized vaguely as the Charms teacher that had started in his sixth and final year before he had poured this self into the diary, retaining only the memories of that time and before. The other three in the room were Madame Pomfrey, what looked like Draco's father by what Tom had seen in Draco's memories, and a tall, hooked nosed older man with greasy black hair that Tom didn't know. None of the visitors noticing he was awake, they continued with their conversation.
"Please, Albus, Mr. Malfoy, I must tend to my patient. Young Malfoy will be fine in my care if you would just leave me to my job! " Madame Pomfrey tittered about, trying to get past Dumbledore and Malfoy, carrying a vat of potion labeled Glass-away. Flitwick was sitting on another bed, in tears, and the hook-nosed wizard was speaking to Dumbledore and Malfoy, who were in a heated discussion.
"You are lucky that I am not sending that boy to Azkaban for nearly killing my son! I want him sent straight to St. Mungo's for real, professional treatment, not some cracked up nurse here, Dumbledore."
Dumbledore seemed calm as he had his hand pressed together in front of him that was so familiar to Tom. Before speaking he let Pomfrey pass him as she ran straight to Tom and began to slathe the Glass-away on his wound that Tom could see was about one foot long protuding from his chest. Before he began to vomit, Tom returned to listening to Dumbledore. He could feel Draco try to make his way back in control, but Tom pulsed one more shot of power towards the boy and he desisted.
"Mr. Malfoy, Madame Pomfrey, before being a nurse at Hogwarts recieved ten years of training by St. Mungo's great granddaughter. She is just as qualified and just as sane as any healer in St. Mungo's. Your son is safe here Malfoy, you have nothing to fear." Dumbledore said to Malfoy. "Severus is also here to aid Madame Pomfrey with any potions she needs made." Dumbledore gestured to the hook nosed man who nodded slightly.
Lucius looked first to Dumbledore, Severus, Pomfrey and then to Tom. "If anything happens to him or he gets worse he will go straight to St. Mungo's." He swept from the room.
Madame Pomfrey finished applying the salve. Tom heard Draco think he now knew why Potter seemed to hate the hospital wing. Dumbledore saw that Tom, or Draco that is, was awake, He told him to take a potion by his side and Tom did, only because he couldn't leave now, even if he tried. Besides, it could give him some time to dream up great ways to pull off this double murder best. Maybe he'll even kill the old man while he was at it. No, maybe not Dumbledore.... he's.... too....powerful....
And so Tom drifted lazily into the potion induced sleep. Much later, Draco did the same.
The Gryffindor common room was full to bursting at eight o'clock, but Ginny didn't care. She managed to squeeze herself in a table with some fellow sixth years as some chatted to each other, but the rest worked on homework like herself. She usually got her homework done quickly, preferring being alone to a crowd of classmates. Ginny would have gone to the library, and almost did, but heard the Slytherins had taken the space and were doling out punishments to those who dared venture during their studying. Normally she would have gone anyway and deflected the curses sent her way, but she was too tired and settled for the crowdy common room.
Hermione and Harry were playing wizard chess, while Ron was looking on, a rare sight. Hermione had a look of utter concentration on her face as she cautiously placed her queen three spaces to the right and the look on her face when Harry took her king was priceless. Her and many other students stopped their previous activities and looked on as Hermione blew up.
"But! But! Look! I can get you... no, I can't. Just you wait, Harry. I know you cheated!" Hermione shrieked, and began to examine every piece on the board, detirmined to find a way out of her checkmate.
Chuckling, Ginny resumed to her homework, starting first on Ancient Runes, then Transfiguration and Potions. Ginny barely noticed the time fly by as students left to bed, and by midnight, as Ginny put a final mark on her Potions essay with a flourish, she got up to find herself the only one in the common room, something that had never before happened.
Feeling not in the least bit as sleepy as she was earlier, Ginny took her homework upstairs to her dormitory, grabbed her robes and pulled them on. She knew it was much later than midnight, the curfew for sixth and seventh years, but she didn't care. Feeling brave, she thought she'd adventure Hogwarts.
Later, many a year from now, Ginny would ask herself what made her leave Gryffindor common room on that chilly October night, but fate has a way of intervening when something must be done, and Ginny unconsiously led her body to the Hospital wing, curiosity getting ahold of her as she decided to open the door to the room where Draco was held when she found herself there.
Opening the door on silent hinges, Ginny crept into the room, closing it quietly behind her. To the left Ginny knew it was where Madame Pomfrey slept, and she past by swiftly, not wanting to be punished by the stern witch. Her fuzzy maroon slippers christened with the Gryffindor crest slid along the polished floors and soon she was upon the sleeping figure of Draco Malfoy. Ginny always thought he was remarkably handsome, with his strong chin, silvery eyes that were open although his even breathing told her he was indeed sleeping. His silver-blonde hair that resembled a veela that was usually kept perfectly perched atop his head was now matted down with sweat and blood. Ginny observed the huge hunk of glass that had been inside his chest was now gone, replaced by grey substance drip dripping onto the floor. He looked so feverish. Beads of sweat glistened on his perfect forehead and without thinking Ginny pulled up the arm of her robe and wiped it off. Suddenly realising what she was doing, she fell back from the sleeping boy, landing on an empty bed that made a clattering sound as she knocked off the empty vat of glass-away that had been set there.
Knowing Madame Pomfrey must have heard it, Ginny flew from the room, cursing her on her stupidity to even see the boy who has hated her since the day they laid eyes on each other. Just as she closed the door to the hallway, she listened fearfully as Madame Pomfrey went straight to Draco's bed, convinced the witch could hear her frantically beating heart. Soon after the nurse's footsteps subsided, Ginny continued the trek up the seven flights of stairs.
Stupid, Ginny cursed herself as she hid behind a secret staircase behind a worn tapestry as Filch wen past, muttering curses under his breath having stubbed his toe on the statue of Medea down the hallway. After almost twenty minutes, Ginny reached the Fat Lady's portrait, her sleepiness back with a vengence. Barely making it into her dormitory room, Ginny crashed into her bed with such force she felt a spring bust. Sleep overcame her and she thought no more.
Draco was still awake. He guessed it was past midnight, but Tom was asleep. Apparently the potion didn't effect him in this state. When Tom had fallen asleep, Draco had tried to regain control of his body. It was difficult. The only thing he had managed was to open his eyes and now he couldn't close them. Luckily the air in the room had little movement and his fragile eyes were safe from being damaged, but now he could see. His eyes were positioned to a view of the ceiling, and Draco spent the first ten minutes of this freedom counting the tiles. Three hours later and he was almost ready to fall asleep like his little friend. Just as he was about to give up and drift off, he heard a sound. Thinking it was at first Madame Pomfrey checking up on him, Draco ignored it. Then a flash of red hair swam in his face and he focused on it. It was Ginny Weasley.
When Weasley was eleven, he thought she was pretty in a little kid way, but now that she was older, Draco saw a gorgeous teenager looking at him with such pity and sorrow in her blood-shot eyes. Under her amber eyes were dark circles, telling him lack of sleep caused those perfect brown ovals such distress. He watched her look down at what he assumed was his wound, and back up to his hair. He had been in a state of fever, a side effect to the potion that had been administered to his wound, and he watched with a mixed feeling of awe, hate and something else he couldn't identify as Ginny wiped his sweaty forehead with her tattered robe, concern and something else across her face as she looked straight into his eyes. Oh, she was so close to him. Draco knew that if he could move now he would have closed his eyes and pressed his lips against hers... No! What was he thinking? He hated the brat! Ginny seemed to have a similar thought as himself and she pushed herself from his form and backed away to where Draco couldn't see her. Something crashed to the floor and heard Weasley leave the hospital wing when soon Madame Pomfrey joined him to tut at his opened eyes and closed them softly. Draco then decided now was the time to sleep, and not think of the girl who had awoken such desires in his mind and heart.
Two weeks later Tom was allowed to leave the hospital wing but only after he had agreed to have someone escort him to all his classes. Finding someone called Pansy Parkinson had agreed to chaperone him through the day, Tom let himself to the bathroom in the hospital wing and cleaned up. He looked like a mess, but the first thing that had surprised him was not the hole in his versache sweatshirt, or the blood in his veela-hair, but his age. By reading Draco's memories, not seeing them as Draco had assumed he did, he had thought that Draco and Harry Potter were in the same year. Ginevra had even mentioned Draco Malfoy who had teased her when she had given Potter a valentine that she had composed.
"Hey, what year are we in, Draco?" Tom asked his host
"Seventh, and so is Potter, you dolt." Draco sneered
"You lie. And don't be cheeky." Tom added.
"We are in seventh, Potter and myself. We are both seventeen. Five years have passed Riddle."
"I don't believe you."
"Well. Not my problem." Draco finished
Fuming, Tom cleaned up, only because he wanted to give off the impression he was fine to get to the library. He knew he needed to look in the Restricted Section to see what it said about this particular situation. No mistakes.
"Draco sweetheart, it's time for us to go to class. You don't want to miss Potions, do you?" A sickly sweet voice sounded from outside the bathroom. Tom opened it. Directly in front of him stood a fantastically hideous girl of about his supposed age. She was staring at his chest, and he thought it was because she wanted to see if it was healed but realised it was because he had taken off his shirt, exposing his well toned, pale muscles. In front of her she held a dark green sweatshirt, probrably his smallest, and what Draco had thought to him to be the leather pants Pansy had bought him in hopes he would wear it. In public. She also had a nice set of robes that Tom hoped would hide the ridiculous clothing that Pansy had picked for him.
"Thanks," Tom muttered, resisting the urge to curse her. He closed the door behind him and changed quickly in the bathroom, and examined himself in the mirror. The Draco boy's face was probrably paler than usual because of the blood loss, but he looked fine. Enlargening the leather pants a bit, Tom left the bathroom and Pansy carried his books for him as they went downstairs to Potions.
It was how Tom remembered it. Dark, dank and damp, it was Tom's favourite class when he was in school. He seated himself next to Pansy. The other students were already present and the teacher, Severus, Tom remembered him being called was in the middle of lecturing the class. Professor Severus nodded at him, apparently that was his way at recognising his arrival, and Tom scanned the classroom, looking around the throngs of Gryffindors and Slytherins to find Potter. If he was here, he was indeed much older, which made his job of murdering him even harder. Yes. There he was. He was seated between a bushy haired girl Ginevra had been afraid liked Potter and another redhead that looked like what Ginevra said was her brother, Ron.
Potter looked the same that he did five years ago, his eyes were gaunt and haunted though, as if he had grown up sooner than he should have. His hand grasped the bushy haired girls... Hermione was her name, with such intensity that he seemed afraid he would lose her if he let go.
"Looks like Potter got lucky," Tom said to himself. Draco laughed inside his head.
The potion was simple. Tom got to it quickly, surpassing Pansy and the rest of the class. Tom had taught himself it when he was in fifth year, finding it created an extremely powerful aphrodisiac when he added Yohimbe, a rare plant that had been lurking in the old man Professor Figg's herbology geenhouse.
"Too much information, Riddle." Draco said to him.
"I didn't use it for myself. I mixed it in the Hufflepuff's food and in some of the teachers'. It caused hell, let me tell you that. A few teachers sent to Azkaban for a month for breaching the student/teacher law. Rape isn't a nice thing.' Tom laughed aloud and Pansy looked at him thoughtfully before continuing on her potion.
After only twenty minutes, the potion was finished and Tom put in a glass beaker and delivered it to the Professor.
"Professor Severus, here is my potion." Tom said when he reached the teacher's desk. Some of his ass-kissing rose up again from earlier years. Draco groaned but Tom ignored him.
"What did you call me, Draco?" Severus asked him
"Professor Severus, sir." Tom replied politely. Draco started to laugh.
"Draco, as close as your father and I no doubt are, and as you are in my house I will not deduct points. When we meet, you will call me Professor Snape. Whether your brain had been addled in your accident is left to be seen. Thank you for your potion. You may return to your seat and catch up on the homework you have missed for the last two weeks." He then proceeded to pull a small stack of papers from his desk and handed it to Tom. He walked back to his desk numbly, embarassment heating his face.
"Why didn't you tell me Severus was his first name?" Tom nearly screamed to Draco
"You, er, didn't ask?" Draco nearly choked from laughing
"You pungent pile of stinkfish. I will kill you as soon as I get the chance so help me!" Tom was furious.
But Draco was laughing so hard inside Tom's head that Draco didn't even hear him. Tom sent a bolt of power at the boy and he finally shut up.
An hour and a half later and Snape was telling the other students to fill their beakers with potion and take it to his desk. By that time Tom had finished Draco's homework, being unable to leave without Pansy. He handed the completed work to Snape who raised his greasy eybrows in surprise as he took the stack of parchment and let him leave. Hoisting his bookbag on his shoulder, he left the dungeon with Pansy close behind him and he entered the great hall to breakfast. Potter was in front of him and Tom couldn't resist being childish and putting a curse on the boy.
"Bestia!" He whispered, and pointed Draco's wand at Potter's bookbag.
As soon as the words left Tom's mouth, Potter's bookbag opening turned into a mouth and with razor sharp teeth bit into Harry's shoulder. Harry yelled and Hermione Granger thought quick and put a stunning spell on the bag. Gryffindors from all sides rushed to his aid and he was soon lost in a throng of red and gold. Great. Because of the threat of his older self after Potter, all of his house were just waiting to aid him. He was completely protected. Tom knew he would be the hardest of the two to kill, and decided then and there to go after Ginevra first.
Tom quickly did the charm to sprout water from his wand and ended it, incase they checked wands for the creater of the spell. Pansy hadn't noticed Tom do the spell, but did see Potter being attaked and had looked on with childish glee as he was taken to the hospital wing by thirty Gryffindors.
Taking his seat after Pansy, Tom ate with great pleasure, the feeling of eating almost orgasmic. One month in the plane, but apparently five years, and the fifty in the diary, Tom missed food. He helped himself to the kippers and thick, wheaty rolls slathered with butter. It was heaven. Lunch had never been his favourite class when he was still a student at Hogwarts, but he didn't realise how much he really missed it. What he really wanted was to go to his library and read up on the current events, get his facts straight. Maybe even raid the Restricted Section. Again. Tom smiled to himself as Pansy got up and he followed her downstairs to Herbology outside.
The professor of the class, who he learned to be Professor Sprout, a dumpy little witch with gray flyaway hair. Sprout led them to Greenhouse number seven, the most dangerous and hazardous greenhouse in Hogwarts, one Tom had snuck into in his fifth year and killed the rarest specimen, a Yohimbe, after it tried to attack him. He managed to retrieve it's leaves and had concocted the potion that got all of those teachers in trouble. Good times. Sprout began to teach them the prophetic effects of the Zacate- something leaves. and Tom zoned out, tempted to cut the braids of the Ravenclaw in front of him and attach them to her-
"Draco, dear, are you feeling alright?" Pansy asked him as they stood up to leave. Sprout handed Tom his homework from two weeks previously and he put them in his bookbag as he sauntered from the greenhouse, lost in memories of a better time.
"I'm fine, why?" He replied, going down the slope to Care of Magical Creatures class.
"Well, Drakie, you seem a bit off. You aren't terrorising the Hufflepuffs, picking fights with Gryffindors, and you are quiet. Where is my Drakie?"
"Would you stop with the pet names?" Tom said angrily whirling to face her, his abdomen hurting at the sudden twist. Pansy paled. Later she would tell her girlfriends that she saw something different in Draco's eyes. It seemed like his silvery eyes were veined and rimmed black. Sinister,almost. But she didn't say anything to him, but instead directed him to the oaf Hagrid's hut.
For the second time in a day, he was visited once again with the presence of Potter. He had missed his History of Magic class, according to a gossiping Gryffindor to another, and was treated with some anti venom salve. Madame Pomfrey said it was Dark Magic that had caused the bookbag to do that and the Headmaster was talking to witnesses all day. Soon the chattering stopped when a huge man that Tom remembered was the little brat he blamed for the murder of that girl, Myrtle over fifty years ago. The oaf began by taking out the creature of the day, a Lethifold. He told the students that Lethifolds were very dangerous and were in this form before they were turned into Dementors by Unspeakables to guard Azkaban. He continued to say that the only way to deflect a Lethifold is the Patronus charm, a being made from pure happiness, but that was for them to learn in Defence Against the Dark Arts. At the end of the boring and dangerous class, Hagrid put the Lethifold in a gently pulsing orblike container that sealed seamlessly. Tom wanted to take it, but Pansy was leading him to the castle where they enjoyed a nice dinner and Dumbledore announced he would find out what had happened to Harry and end the threat before it hurt anyone else. Tom heard the veiled threat, but he left to bed in the Slytherin common room, password being Arsenic. He knew that all of the other students would stay in the common room until very late, so he said goodnight to Pansy and two huge goons who slapped him on the back and went to bed for a couple of hours of sleep until the rest went to bed.
Draco directed Tom to his bed, and he undressed, keeping his eyes straight ahead as he did so. In his nightclothes he lay upon the velvet sheets, under the thick cotton blanket and thought no more.
