Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own Tom, Tonks, or any other Harry Potter character that may be mentioned; they are the beautiful creation of JK Rowling. Any character you do not recognise, is probably a not-so-beautiful creation of mine. Enjoy. Reviews are also good...Hint, Hint. ;]

Conundrum

Chapter Four - Green Ink & Meticulous Addresses

Finally it was the first weekend of the Hogwarts term, a day Tom intended to spend alone. No classes meant plenty of time to himself without having to interact with others, the best kind of time in his opinion. He rose early for a Saturday – 8 o'clock was an unnatural hour of the weekend, but nevertheless he showered promptly and dressed in a faded green jumper, slightly faded jeans and a second hand, but well cared for, pair of brown leather shoes. He checked his hair in the mirror, making sure it was neatly parted, fixed his Head Boy badge to his chest, and then headed down to breakfast. Even at the weekend he wanted to ensure that there was no mistaking his position in the Hogwarts hierarchy.

He had surmised, correctly, that the great hall would be virtually empty and sat himself in his usual corner and pulled a plate of bacon towards him. Pilling his plate high with bacon, he moved on to sausages, and continued this ritual until he had a very full plate, even for a growing boy of seventeen. He began to eat, contemplating how he would spend his time alone. He had finished the week's homework on Tuesday night, even with rounds on the Monday night with the irritating Laura Flemming. Monday's rounds had been to his satisfaction, talking was kept to a minimum, and it had continued that way throughout the rest of the week. Flemming had taken his instructions to heart.

Good.

With no homework assignments to complete, and no rounds at the weekend, he had a completely free day to with what he wished. Unusually this was a daunting outcome for Tom. Not being socially minded, he had no friends to while away the day with.

Not that he needed friendship; it was just a waste of time, frivolous in his opinion.

He was tempted to spend the whole day locked up in his room, indulging in his own secret hobbies – writing, playing his guitar, and just generally being what his conscience would call a ponce –

Obviously. What kind of guy are you Riddle? Someone who wants to excel in the magical arts and succeed, and most importantly be taken seriously? Or some good for nothing, who is sensitive, and uses the creative mediums of music and writing to express his sensitivity! If it's the latter you need a swift kick up the arse! There is no room for ponces in this world – they will never become highly skilled dark wizards, and nor do they deserve that kind of power.

Tom pondered this for a moment. Clearly, if he wanted to keep up his hard veneer the former would be his desired persona—cold, calculating and most importantly, unavailable for social interaction—perfect in order to leave him to completely focus on his own career goals...

Right. So no guitar playing then...

Just then, interrupting what was sure to be a train of thought tinged with disappointment, an owl plopped down in front of him, with a letter attached to its spindly leg. It stuck out its leg importantly, and Tom deftly untied its load. Before it flew off, Tom gave it a hesitant pat on the head. He wasn't keen on owls, but this one was well mannered enough – clearly one of the school owls.

This raised the question; who from the school would send him a letter? He hadn't made any acquaintances, let alone friends, unless you counted Tonks, and he resolutely was not going to. He didn't want to give her any thought whatsoever, the wounded look that had flashed across her face before she left the library troubled him enough when sleep evaded him, never mind during the daylight hours.

Not that he cared that he had upset her, she was just a nuisance, an irritating nuisance, and this was his perfect opportunity to be rid of her...Friendships were for the weak...those who had time to be frivolous... weren't they?

He gave his head a small shake, clearing if from all thoughts concerning Tonks. He then acknowledged that the most intelligent course of action would be to just open and read the letter, instead of playing 'Guess the sender'.

On the front of the letter, in green ink, in a neat slanted hand, read the words:

Mr Tom Riddle
Head Boy
the Most Secluded Corner of the Slytherin House Table
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Tom took a swift glance around the room in case there was anyone trying to gauge his reaction. It was a meticulously specific address and instantly gave him a feeling of unease. There were several explanations, the most likely being that some kind of idiot prankster wanted to humiliate him. With this thought clouding his mind, he opened the letter:

Dear Mr Riddle,

As you will have guessed, we have much to talk about and it is pertinent that we do so sooner rather than later. Thus, I would like to schedule a meeting with you this evening at eight o'clock sharp in my office. I am sure you will have many questions for me, and as luck would have it, I have many explanations for you. I trust you know where my office is – Professor Dippet's old office, with the gargoyles as guardians. The password is Fawkes.

Looking forward to seeing you,

Professor Dumbledore

Of course it would be Dumbledore, no one else would be so precise.

The question is, why did it take him so long to decide to reveal the reasons for my presence here, in this future Hogwarts? Tom furrowed his brow in annoyance. He had spent the whole summer without any answers – he had spent many an hour in his room at the Leaky Cauldron pondering the whole experience of his arrival...

He had been in the Head's common room, of his time, studying when it happened. A flash of emerald fire erupted in the fireplace, and out stepped Albus Dumbledore, looking considerably older than he had been at breakfast, with a strange contraption hanging around his neck.

Startled, Tom had stood, gaping at the tall figure in front of him. Dumbledore was the first to speak.

'Good evening Tom, I am terribly sorry about the abruptness of my arrival, but as you will understand in good time, it is important that we make this quick and that you pack your things and return with me at once.'

'R...return with you professor?' questioned Tom, too shocked to revert to his usual air of arrogance.

'Yes, Tom, return with me to the future.' replied Dumbledore, impatience slowly tainting his words. 'Quickly now, it will all be explained shortly.' Without another word, he marched Tom to his room, and together the two of them magicked the entire contents of the Head Boy's room into his worn leather trunk. It all fitted neatly - there wasn't much. Dumbledore shrunk it, gave it to Tom to put into his pocket, and lead the way back into the head's common room.

'This Tom,' said Dumbledore, indicating the contraption around his neck, 'is a time turner. This is how we will be returning to the future. If you come and stand next to me and slip it over your neck, I will adjust the dials and we can leave.'

'A time turner? Now see here professor, you have given me no explanation whatsoever, and yet expect me to go along with you, to the future? You cannot honestly think that I will accompany you on a journey that I have absolutely no knowledge of, and to the future? No. I will not be leaving here without an explanation, and I cannot say that I would leave even if you give me one.'

Dumbledore gave him a hard look, Tom could swear that he saw fire flash briefly in his eyes.

'Tom, apparently I haven't made the importance of you to accompany me to the future clear. You have but a moment to make the right choice, if you refuse I will make the correct choice for you. Well?' questioned Dumbledore threateningly.

Tom stood his ground, staring into Dumbledore's hard eyes without a trace of submission.

'Yes, I will make the right choice and that would be to stay put in my own time. Thank you Professor, and a good evening to you,' and with that Tom turned on his heel and made for his bedroom.

'Apologies, Tom' replied Dumbledore, as he raised his wand to aim a non-verbal stunning spell at his back. Tom dropped to the floor where he stood. The next thing he remembered was lying in the hospital wing, with Dumbledore at his bedside, his elbows resting on the comfortable arm chair he had presumably conjured out of thin air, with his fingers in his characteristic steeple.

Seeing that Tom had awakened, Dumbledore swiftly pulled out his wand, and kept it trained on Tom's chest, as he angrily sat up on the bed.

'How the HELL could you do that?' barked Tom, quickly searching the sheets for his wand, a futile attempt to be more in control of the situation. 'Stunning, kidnapping me, and bringing me to what you say is the future, all against my will? Give me back my wand, you had absolutely no right to take it, or do any of this. Why did you bring me here?' He moved to get out of the bed to continue his search for his wand, when Dumbledore calmly stood, his wand still aimed at Tom's chest.

'Do not worry Tom, your wand is safely stowed in my pocket, and will be returned to you as soon as I deem it suitable. Now, if you would please get back into the bed and calm down, all will be revealed.'

With an enraged look at Dumbledore, Tom returned into the sheets, recognising that it would be pointless to try and refuse Dumbledore's requests without his wand. Upon his return to the bed, he gave Dumbledore a withering look as if to say, 'Well? I have complied with your demands, why am I here?'

Dumbledore also resumed his seat, and fixed Tom with a piercing stare, before beginning his explanation. 'To put it simply Tom, you are here because your presence could in fact help stop the world's most evil wizard, before he begins the worst of his tyranny. You could end the devastation that I myself have experienced, that he causes to the Wizarding World before it even happens.'

'You could stop Lord Voldemort.'

Author's Note: I am so sorry that I have not been writing this story, for a while I was really lost for ideas, and short on time! I have a better plan in place, so I will hopefully be writing and updating more regularly.

Again, you have my sincerest apologies, I know how I feel when writer's don't update their stories.

Oh, and if you have Twitter feel free to follow me robynemclaren I will be tweeting as I write, so you will know when I am close to updating!