A/N: If you started this story before February 24, 2017 I revised Chapters 1 and 2 and posted them on the 2/23/17. It's not completely necessary to re-read them, but I did add more details and insight into Hermione. I'd like to say thank you for all of you who have read, reviewed, followed, and favorited! I hope you continue to enjoy and please review, I love to hear what you think about each chapter. If you're new to the story and liking it, please review, follow, and favorite!
Interacting with Tom Riddle was a bit like playing chess with a madman. He made a move, and then watched her make hers. With every action he was sizing her up, reading her, putting together a piece of the puzzle that was the mysterious and curious Callidora Selwyn. Each move he made was another test, one that could have catastrophic consequences if she fail.. This wouldn't be a long, slow, drawn out game. Riddle was pushing forward, hard and fast. Her only chance was to push back, just as hard so she could slow him down or jump ahead. She'd taken a risk last night, pushing him out of her mind but it had been a calculated risk. Things could have gone much worse if he saw something he shouldn't have.
If she kept pushing back, how long until the madman swept all of the pieces to the floor and leapt across the board to kill her? She was patient, she could play the long game if she could get him to buy in and slow down. This wasn't a quick in and out mission like the many she'd had to get here. This was the long con, the one with no return.
He'd read her wand, it was the only way he knew the things he'd hinted at, and the only reason he would be so intrigued with her after she'd so obviously angered him only hours before. And he was incredibly observant, more so than she'd expected. No one else, save for Dumbledore, would notice the age and battle marks on her wand, a powerful wand in the hands of a master that had earned it's loyalty as she had. But after his observations and discovery of spells recently cast with her wand, the head boy hadn't reported her. She'd have been snatched up by Aurors and locked away Azkaban if he had. He was a step ahead of her right now and she didn't like it, not one single bit. She still had the advantage, she knew his secrets, his plans, but she needed to get out in front of this before things started to fall apart. What was he planning to do with her?
The answer was simple for anyone that really knew him, someone like her, who had studied his childhood at the orphanage, his younger years at Hogwarts, his present, and his future. He wanted to collect her. Because that's what Tom Riddle did, he collected things that were desirable, powerful, things that others would want. The compulsion began in his younger years before Dumbledore found him and brought him to Hogwarts. It started with all of the worthless items he could find around the orphanage, desperate to call something, anything, his own. The compulsion grew with age and now he regarded people as little more than an object to be discarded or collected and used, just like his diary and his ring. The ring he didn't know held the resurrection stone. How had someone so observant never noticed he carried one of the Deathly Hallows on his finger?
The entrance to the great hall looked exactly the same as it did in her time. A small part of her was expecting to see Harry and Ron waiting at the Gryffindor table as she had so very many times before. The boys, especially Ron and his bottomless pit of a stomach, often beat her to the table, always so if she'd spent the morning in the library.
But Harry and Ron weren't there. They wouldn't sit at the Gryffindor table for the first time for another 57 years. The familiar table was filled so many unfamiliar faces. She followed Riddle to the Slytherin table. It was strange, approaching the sea of green and silver and not being welcomed with sneers and leers and "mudblood" being mumbled under breaths.
"Tom, who is this gorgeous creature you've graced us with?" a devastating beautiful blonde asked. She didn't even have to see his sharp gray eyes to know who he was. No man was that blonde and that pretty other than a Malfoy. This one was Abraxas Malfoy, father of Lucius and grandfather of Draco. He was elegant with the same aura of pureblood confidence that Lucius had reeked of until his stint in Azkaban had taken it from him. The resemblance Lucius would bear to his father was uncanny. He was a prefect, Quidditch captain. Dragon Pox would take his life in 1971, before the start of the first war but he would remain loyal to his childhood friend, if you could say Riddle had a real friend, until his death. His son would take his place by the Dark Lord's side.
Abraxas stood up from the Slytherin dining table, as did several other boys, all 7th years by the looks of them. It seemed chivalry was alive and well in 1944. Unless they were standing for Riddle. She'd have to see what they did when Riddle approached without her. These boys were the Knights of Walpurgis, the future first Death Eaters.
"Gentleman," Riddle said. "This is Miss Callidora Selwyn. She will be joining us for her 7th year."
Many heads snapped to attention at the mention of her surname. Malfoy, who was directly to her right, took her hand in his and pressed his rather soft lips to the back of it.
"Abraxas Malfoy," he introduced himself. "An absolute pleasure to meet you. Welcome to Slyterin."
"Selwyn, eh?" a black haired boy said from across the table with a smile. He had deep blue eyes and bore a striking resemblance to Sirius Black. Cygnus Black, his uncle, the father of Narcissa, Andromeda, and Bellatrix. Just thinking of the vile wild haired witch made her arm itch. She resisted the urge to rub at her forearm. The physical scar was gone, it took a great deal of powerful healing charms and potions. The memory of it would never leave her.
His loyalties were unknown. From what she had read, she could find nothing stating he fought on either side of the war. If he became a Death Eater, he was never caught. It was more likely that he went off to a house in the country and waited to see who the victor would be, something many witches and wizards had done.
"What are you doing at Hogwarts?" he asked. "I thought your parents kept you locked up at home?" His tone was playful and curious.
"My parents are no longer with us," she answered. "I decided Hogwarts would be a wonderful place to finish my education."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Cygnus said.
"As am I," Abraxas chimed in.
There was a murmur of "sorry for your loss" from all of the boys standing. No one dared ask what happened to them.
"Sorry for making such a careless comment," Cygnus said. "I hope you'll forgive me. I'm Cygnus Black, the third."
"There's nothing to forgive," she flashed him her most charming smile. "You couldn't have known. I don't think it's even made it in the papers yet."
"Callidora," Riddle said. "Allow me to introduce to you the rest of the Slytherin 7th years. This is Markus Avery," he pointed to a thin, rather unremarkable looking brown haired boy. He wasn't ugly, but he didn't stand out in the crowd of well-bred purebloods.
"Antonin Dolohov," dark brown hair, black eyes, small, lean build, and she knew he was every bit the psychopath his Dark Lord was, even at such a young age, only he didn't hide it so well. He was fiercely loyal to Voldemort, even after his fall at the end of the First Wizarding World. In her time, Dolohov spent 14 years in Azkaban and proudly rejoined his master's side after the mass breakout in 1996. He loved to torture, he lived to kill. He was a powerful duelist, he'd defeated Moody at the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. He eyed her, head to toe but not in the appraising way teenage boy eyed a pretty girl. He was one she'd have to keep close tabs on.
"Palladin Nott," black hair, muscular build with a look that said he was always ready for a fight. He was killed by Aurors in the first war so there wasn't much information she'd been able to find on him. She knew he was a chaser on the Slytherin team and would become the grandfather of Theodore Nott, but that was all she knew about it.
"Gangus Crabbe," dirty blonde hair, and as obese as his grandson was in her time. He was a loyal Death Eater who escaped prison time because he was too slow and stupid to do much damage. According to ministry records, he'd had no confirmed murders and he ratted out several other Death Eaters to save his own skin. He was a beater on the Slytherin team.
"Ralphous Lestrange," medium build, dark blonde hair, sharp face. He was the father of Radolphous Lestrange who would marry Bellatrix Black. He disappeared sometime during the first war, presumed dead in a battle with his body never found like so many other wizards. He was an extreme loyalist to the Dark Lord, that probably why Bellatrix married his son. Who else would allow and accept her obsessive love of Lord Voldemort?
"Soule Mulciber," flat black hair that was so greasy it appeared to be glued to his head, square face and teeth that would make a dentist cringe. He would die in Azkaban after the first war, but his son would follow Voldemort in the second war.
"Tarken Rosier," lean build, long black hair tied back at the nap of his neck. Older brother of Druella Rosier who would marry Cygnus Black. He would take the Dark Mark and smooth talk his way out of time in Azkaban after the first war. He died in 1983 from heart failure, a genetic defect.
"Pleasure to meet all of you gentleman," she said with a nod.
"You'll be sharing a dorm with the ladies over there," Riddle pointed to the two girls at the end of the table. She knew from her study of him that he didn't often let women into his inner circle. "Persia Greengrass and Altyia Carrow." Persia had perfectly styled, sleek blonde hair sitting atop her pretty head with the air of arrogance typical of a wealthy pureblood. Even with her dull brown hair pinned and styled, Altyia still resembled a man more than a woman. "Have a seat." He gestured towards the space currently occupied by Abraxas.
There had already been space for Riddle to sit, obviously that was his usual place in the middle of the long table, but when he gestured for her to sit next to him, Abraxas on the other side of her, the boys shuffled their feet to either side to make a second space. They only sat down after she and Riddle were seated. She was unsure whether they remained standing for her benefit, or their Dark Lord. One of the few things she couldn't find during her research were the exact dates or years that each of Voldemort's original Death Eaters took their Dark Marks. Did they have them already? It was unknown whether Riddle created the Mark and his first Death Eaters before he rose to true power, or after.
As her eyes wandered around the Great Hall, she was surprised to see the house tables so full. There were nearly double the number of students here than there had been at her first year at Hogwarts. She knew the First Wizarding War, started by the very same Dark Lord sitting her her left, had devastated the wizarding population, but it was a shock to truly see it for herself. Suddenly, the many empty corridors and classrooms around Hogwarts made sense. Most of them had to be in use in this time, to accommodate such a large student population.
Her eyes stopped on the other two 7th year Slytherin girls. Both were currently burning holes in her head with their eyes. And to think, she'd been looking forward to getting a great night's sleep, safe and sound inside Hogwart's walls once again. She hadn't even filled her breakfast plate yet and Riddle had already ostracized her from her roommates. She'd have to put up an abundance of shields, jinxes, and charms around her bed before she'd feel safe. Girls were so catty.
"So, Callidora," Abraxas started. "Which classes will you be taking?"
"Advanced Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, History of Magic, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, Ancient Runes, and Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Cygnus spit his eggs out onto his plate. "Dear Lord, nine classes, all advanced?"
"Yes Cygnus," Riddle answered for her. "Some people have ambitions. Try to keep your food in your mouth."
"I'd say so," Malfoy said. "You'll be in all of my classes, only I'm not taking Care of Magical Creatures or Ancient Runes. I had to leave time for Quidditch," he smiled proudly. "I'm the Slytherin team captain and seeker." An incredibly attractive, filthy rich pureblood who was quidditch team captain and seeker, that probably made a lot of young witches drop their panties for Abraxas Malfoy. "I think you might have the same schedule as Tom though."
"Almost," Riddle said in between bites of toast. He took a sip of pumpkin juice before continuing. "Only I'm taking Divination instead of Care of Magical Creatures. Callidora, do you plan to join the dueling club?" His smile said she might not have much of a choice. "I'm interested to see your skills and techniques, being taught at home is surely much different than we've been taught here at Hogwarts." The corner of his mouth pulled up even further into a smirk. "I'm willing to wager that you know a few spells we are not allowed to use here."
"I'm sure my curriculum at home isn't that much different than Hogwarts. If you're finished Riddle, we should get back to the Headmaster's office." She dabbed her napkin at the corners of her mouth before setting it on her empty plate which quickly vanished.
"Yes, of course," he said, mimicking her actions. He stood and offered her his hand to help her from her seat. "Please, call me Tom. I insist."
"Thank you. Tom." Tom. Tom Riddle. Tom, Tom, Tom. It didn't matter how many times she said it in her head. Calling Lord Voldemort by his given first name was strange. It was like trying to say a foreign word with an annunciation unknown to your native language. It made her tongue heavy and twisted.
"Where are you two off to?" Cygnus asked.
"He's escorting me to Diagon Alley," she said, Riddle had to close his mouth when she beat him to the answer. He wasn't used to someone else speaking up when he was around. "I don't have any school supplies. Or anything else really. Everything in my house was destroyed. The Headmaster has granted me a trip to get things in order."
Cygnus nodded solemnly, not daring to inquire more. His lip twitched, like he was dying to ask what tragedy had befallen her family. It didn't matter, her family's tragedy would be front page news soon. She'd read the article. Only this time it would be a little different. Callidora Selwyn survived, the last of the Selwyn line. As far as everyone knew, she would be keeping the lineage of a sacred 28 family alive.
"Don't be too long," Abraxas said. "The 6th and 7th years are having a get together in the common room this evening." He smirked, the typical Malfoy trademark only this time it wasn't in a condescending manner, it was, dare she say, playful. "I'm sure everyone would like to get to know you."
She took Riddle's offered arm and they made their way back to the Headmaster's office. Their walk was silent, except for Riddle occasionally scolding younger students for running in the halls. She could feel him looking down on her from the corner of his eye. He spoke the password to the Headmaster's office, greeted Dippet, and after a warning from the Headmaster to behave and not take too long, they were representing the school after all, they both gripped the old coin that was their portkey. A second of dizzying twists and turns later, they landed in front of Gringotts. She and Riddle both straightened their robes.
"I assume you have your vault key?" Riddle asked.
"Of course," she replied smoothly. "And my papers. I've never actually been to the family vault. Only my father went. I'll have to reset the password with the goblins."
He nodded and they headed into the bank. The line was short, less than a five minute wait before they stood in front of a goblin who asked for her key and password.
"Here is my key," she placed the golden key into the goblins long fingered hand. "But I don't know the password." She handed him her identification papers next. "My parents were killed a few days ago. I'm their only heir, so everything has been left to me. But I've never been here before and my father never told me the password."
The goblin pulled out a magnifying glass to inspect her papers. It grazed over every single line. She took deep, steady breaths. Goblins were highly intelligent and highly observant. Her papers, while untrue, were created by a real ministry official. She told herself over and over that they would pass a goblin inspection. Just keep breathing and don't give the goblin any reason to be suspicious. Her steady breathing kept her heart rate down, but there was nothing she could do to stop the perspiration gather in her palms.
The goblin disappeared behind the counter, presumably to verify with the Ministry that her parents were indeed dead.
"Very well," the goblin croaked out when he returned. "Your papers are in order." He leaned towards her, and indicated to her with one long finger that she should do the same. "State your new password."
She hadn't thought of what she wanted it to be. So she said the first reasonable thing that came to mind. "Memories," she whispered to the goblin. He nodded and hopped off of his seat.
They followed him to the carts. The Selwyn family vault was old, kept in the deepest part under the bank, where all of the old, pureblood family vaults where. 178 was the number. The goblin placed her key and his own into the door and one turn later, the ancient gears were clicking and grinding as the locks unlatched and the door slid open.
"Please wait here," she said to Riddle. "I'll be quick." Her curiosity wanted to get the better of her, she desperately wanted to explore the huge, very full space, but she didn't want to do so with Riddle lurking outside the door, peeking in to see anything that was in plain view. The front of the vault was filled with the typical priceless family heirlooms all the pureblood family's had. There were vases, gilded furniture, old paintings and sculptures. She even spotted a complete set of fine dining china. Further back there were tables stacked with loose gems and another table covered in finished fine jewelry. Her hand skimmed over the section of silver necklaces. She stopped at the emerald encrusted choker. There would formal events she would attend in her 7th year, and every pureblood girl needed proper jewelry, in Slytherin colors. Right? Right, she'd earned this, after everything she'd been through, everything she'd done, and everything she still had to do. She pocketed the necklace and matching set of earrings. The large jewels were heavy in her robe pocket.
At the back of the vault was an extremely large pile of gold. Large enough that she could have bought a mansion, fill it with expensive useless crap, and barely make a dent in the pile of gold. She was reminded of the muggle cartoon she'd seen as a child, Scrooge McDuck, and had the urge to dive into the gold to see if one could actually swim in it. If only Riddle wasn't there...
She pulled out her beaded bag and stuffed a significant amount of coins into it. She needed enough to get through the school year without a problem and she had a lot of things to buy today. She grabbed one more handful as an afterthought then closed her bag. The goblin closed the door before they climbed back into the cart. The journey back up to the surface always seemed longer than the trip down. Must be something to do with gravity.
"Where to first?" Riddle asked her as they left the bank, her key tucked safely back in her pocket.
"Probably best to start with robes," she replied. "In case the Madam needs to make adjustments, we can pick them up before we leave. Lead the way?"
Diagon Alley was almost exactly the same in this time as it was in hers. Shops were often kept in the family, passed down from generation to generation. The sign on Madam Malkin's shop was shiny and new. A very young, nearly unrecognizable Madam Malkin greeted them immediately. Now that Hogwarts was back in session, Diagon Alley wasn't very busy.
"I'm Callidora Selwyn, I need 7 sets of Hogwarts uniforms, Slytherin, winter wear including a cloak and scarf, sleep wear, and well, everything really," she told the Madam. Malkin immediately went to work taking her measurements.
"You should probably get a set of dress robes as well," Riddle suggested. "There's a welcome ball in two weeks." She nodded to Madam Malkin indicating her agreement. After finishing with her measurements, Madam Malkin sent them on their way, promising to owl all of her robes first thing tomorrow and directly bill her vault for the order. She would be custom designing 'the most fabulous gown' for her dress robes.
An hour later, they had all of her supplies except books. Her beaded bag was full of quills, ink, parchment, cauldrons, potions ingredients, and more. She'd also stopped in to the Icre Cream Parlour for a bag of sweets. Flourish and Blott's was their final stop.
"Would you mind if I take some time to look around?" she asked Riddle.
"Not at all. I'd like to look around myself. It's always so crowded the week before school that I never get a chance to enjoy it."
She browsed through each row of bookshelves, leather bound parchment and ink was still her favorite smell. She favored the new, clean smell of the bookstore, but she found the smell of aged leather in a library more comforting. Tomorrow she would be stopping into the Hogwarts library to see if the smell in this time brought the same comfort it had in her time.
Her beaded bag was packed full of books so she was only looking for titles she didn't recognize, ones that were unavailable in the 1990's after the defeat of Grindelwald and the first fall of Voldemort. She ended up with a small stack of 14 books for personal reading pleasure. The shop assistant already had her standard Hogwarts textbooks waiting at the counter. She'd told him her classes when they'd entered the shop.
Riddle raised an eyebrow at her when she set her stack of books on the counter, so tall she could barely see over them to walk.
"Planning to do some light reading on the weekends?" he asked.
"Yes," she said defensively. "I enjoy reading when I have free time. There's nothing wrong with it."
"I never said there was," he said softly. "I'm an avid reader myself." He nodded towards his own stack of books on the counter. There were 11 in his own stack.
She counted out the coins to pay for her purchase. She offered to store his books in her bag so he didn't have to walk all the way back to the port key point balancing them.
"Would you care for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron before we go back?" he asked as they left the bookstore.
"If it's any good, that would be nice, thank you."
He escorted her down the nearly empty street, through the brick wall, and into the dimly lit pub. It was empty, save for 2 patrons sitting together at the far corner. Riddle took her to corner booth, the farthest from the bar and the other patrons. The hunched back barkeep was easily recognizable behind the counter, although he was much younger and had an unruly mop of hair on his head. He rushed over to take their order. She ordered a simple turkey sandwich with a butterbeer. Riddle ordered a cottage pie and a butterbeer.
"Tell me more about yourself," Riddle said casually. "I must admit, I find myself a bit intrigued by you."
"Intrigued?" she questioned before taking a bite of her sandwich. "How so?"
"You're a new student who placed straight into advanced classes from a reclusive pureblood family, and you have no issues using Dark Magic, including the Unforgivables." He smiled at her, like a cat who'd thought he'd cornered a mouse.
"And how would you know that?" she asked pointedly.
"I traced your wand. I thought, considering the circumstances of your arrival, I should check to see if you cast any… unsavory spells." He leaned forward and lowered his voice, barely above a whisper. "Imagine my surprise when I found two recently cast Avada Kedavra. Tell me, did you kill your parents and cover it up with a muggle bomb?"
She gasped, her eyes wide, slamming her back against her seat, recoiling from him at the implication. "Of course I didn't! How dare you! I cast those at some giant spiders that were chasing me after I apparated into the forest." She pursed her lips, leaning against the table, pushing into Riddle's space. "Now, I think the more interesting question would be why you didn't turn my wand over to the Headmaster after you did the trace?"
Riddle just smiled at her, again. He folded his napkin and placed it next to his now empty bowl before sliding ever so gracefully from the booth. "I'll answer that, in due time. I believe it's time for us to return to school."
She remained seated, staring up at his tall form. "Are you turning me in?"
"For killing some spiders?" He cocked his head. "Of course not."
He knew he had the upper hand and that was fine, but she needed to let him know the playing field was more level than he thought. "The head boy isn't going to turn in the new student for casting unforgivables? Now I'm the curious one. What dark secrets are you hiding, Tom Riddle? Are you interested in learning more about the Dark Arts, or do you just like surrounding yourself with dark wizards and witches?"
"Perhaps I'm just interested in learning more about you. You are quite the mystery." He offered her his arm that didn't seem optional to accept.
The trek back to Gringotts was long and silent. She felt slightly underhanded by Riddle, not the place she wanted to be. She had hoped to have a little more time, a few weeks at least, observing him before she drew his attention. But this was the hand she had been dealt and she would play it to the fullest.