Chapter 9

Year 2: Tom Riddle and The Legend of Slytherin (Part 2)

Tom Riddle was- to put it frankly- bored out of his mind. Classes had resumed, and he was currently sitting in Professor Merrythought's Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

"So as you can see, the banshee is a most formidable opponent." He pointed his wand at a screen that had been setup at the front of the classroom, and the image changed to that of a woman. She had pale skin and a gaunt face; her straight black hair was fanned out behind her as she swooped upon the photographer.

Tom Riddle, who was sitting at the front of the classroom yawned, and stretched his arms.

"Yes, Mr. Riddle? Do you have a question?" Professor Merrythought had seen Tom's outstretched hand and was waiting expectantly.

Tom cursed silently, and then smiled at his Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor.

"Actually sir, I do. As the banshee's scream is their most powerful form of attack, what would the effects be upon those who are deaf?"

Professor Merrythought paused a moment, pondering the answer.

"That is a most excellent question Riddle." He beamed at Tom, "The effect of a banshee's scream would definitely be reduced on those who are hearing impaired…" Professor Merrythought resumed the lesson.

"You weren't really wondering about banshees at all were you?" Nisin whispered to Tom, who smiled.

"What are you talking about Nisin? I take my studies very seriously."

As soon as the lesson was over, Tom was headed for the library. It had become his usual habit. The teachers of Hogwarts always assumed he studied for his classes, which resulted in his unusually high marks. But those who knew Tom Riddle better knew he wasn't studying. Although for the most part, they didn't know what Tom was researching any more than the teachers.

After discovering that Tom Riddle Senior was not a wizard. Tom immersed himself in the idea that he was a descendent of one of the noble founders of the school. The very wizard who founded the house he himself was in.

Salazar Slytherin.

He was consumed by the very notion. Disregarding his mother's identity, Tom skipped straight to his grandfather. Marvolo.

But this is where he always hit a dead end. No matter what records he searched, no matter what books he read, Tom Riddle could find no record of a family tree of Salazar Slytherin. Nor of any man with the first name Marvolo.

Tom ran his fingers through his dark hair for what seemed like the thousandth time. His temples were throbbing from the prolonged hours of concentration. Tom slammed the book in front of him, the peeling gold font on the cover read: Hogwarts Student Roster: Years 1017-1024. Tom threw the leather bound book on top of a pile, the topmost volume showed the same peeling gold font of the years 1009-1016.

Pulling his bag on, Tom made his way through the innumerable bookshelves and out of the library. He made his way down towards the dungeons. Walking down the stone corridor, the light from the torches ensconced on the walls cast harsh shadows across Tom's face. Stopping in front of a stretch of wall at the end of the corridor, Tom said,

"Ouroboros." The wall vanished, and Tom made his way into the Slytherin common room. The entire room was rather dim, but there was a fire blazing in the hearth. The light from the fire made the armchairs ominous silhouettes.

Tom flopped into his favorite armchair, a black leather chair, with a high back and armrests. Placing his elbows on the armrests, Tom laced his fingers together and rested his chin upon them. He stared at the fireplace, when he heard a familiar set of footsteps approach him from behind.

"Your father," Tom said, and the footsteps came to an abrupt halt, "said he worked at the Ministry of Magic, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did," Nisin's voice gave no sign that he had almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of Tom's voice.

"I was wondering," Tom rose from his chair and walked toward the fire, staring into the embers. His profile was a black shadow against the blaze from the hearth. Tom turned to face Nisin, his eyes reflecting the light portentously, and then he continued,

"Would your father be able to get me a census from the Ministry of Magic?"

Nisin placed down his bag upon a table, and turned on a lamp. Pulling his books from his bag, Nisin answered, "I suppose. Yes, I believe he would be able to."

"Do you know how long it would take to have them sent here." It wasn't a question, but a command. Tom's voice rang high and cold in the empty common room.

"I'll send him an owl tonight."

"Very well." Tom stepped away from the fireside, and made his way to the dormitory.

"I think I'll have a bit of supper."

And with that Tom left the common room.

The next morning, the whole school was in a state of chaos. Tomorrow was Halloween, and the Great Hall was looking extremely festive. While the floating pumpkins were only used during the Halloween feast, the enormous jack-o-lanterns were already set up through out the hall. Festive autumn leaves were lazily drifting from the enchanted ceiling.

Tom, Lestrange, Black, and Nisin were all sitting at the Slytherin table, enjoying a breakfast of toast with jam, pancakes, and fried eggs. They were just finishing up the last bit of the orange juice, when a hundred owls flew into the Great Hall. The mail had arrived.

A pure white owl landed with a rustle of wings and feathers, in front of Nisin. The owl proffered his leg, and Nisin removed the scroll of parchment, and then promptly handed it to Tom. It read:

Dear Liam,

I'm sure that I can procure the records that you requested, although it may take some time. I suspect that I should be able to have a copy sent within the week.

-Sincerely,

Father

Tom looked up from the letter, and handing it back to Nisin, he said. "Good work."

Halloween passed by in a flurry of orange pumpkins and a sumptuous feast. And soon the cold November winds began to pick up; bringing with it the same white owl that had delivered the letter the day before Halloween.

But it was not the only owl. At least half a dozen owls fluttered down before the group, each carrying a parcel attached to its leg.

The four quickly began untying parcel after parcel, and the owls set off once again into the blustery gray sky.

Tom and his entourage made their way back to their common room, to deposit the parcels before lessons began. But only three boys left the Slytherin dormitories to attend lessons. Tom Riddle went immediately to the hospital wing, after having performed a complicated little hex –of his own invention –upon himself, to give him the appearance of someone suffering from a terrible cold. Madam Pomfrey immediately sent him to a bed and bustled away to bring him medicine.

Once he was comfortably settled, Tom Riddle pulled out one of the parcels from his bag. He carefully untied the white string that was tied around the brown paper that covered the package. Once the paper covering was removed, he could see the sheaves of parchment underneath. The whole pile was about as thick as his hand was wide, and covered with miniscule handwriting.

Tom Riddle began to read.

A/N: I'm really sorry about the late update. But I've been getting ready to head back to school. So I wont be updating as often as I used to. Hopefully I will be able to update once a week. Thanks for your continued readership, as always it is much appreciated!

To: Basilisk's Fang

Thanks again for your comment! I'm glad to see that you enjoyed this chapter. Now onto the reply.

To answer your question of when it was mentioned that Tom was a known Parselmouth, it basically came from speculation coupled with some guesswork. In the seventh book, Tom is seen at the Slug Club trying to get information about Horcruxes. At this time, he's wearing Marvolo's ring. Since he killed Morfin, and obtained the ring in the summer before his sixth year. It's possible that this happened in his seventh year, but at the very least those in the club knew he was related to Salazar Slytherin. A sure fire way to convince others would be the rare talent of talking to snakes. I hope my deduction seems plausible to you :) Also good luck with your Tom Riddle fanfic!

Personally I agree with you about caps locks, it does get quite irritating, but I was attempting to mimic J.K. Rowling's style of using caps when someone is shouting or particularly angry.

The part about Tom's removal from Flourish and Blotts, if you look at it from the perspective of an angry woman in the late 1930s, who had been dealing with a boy who constantly read (but did not buy) books. I think his removal is a little more plausible back then, at least compared to today's point of view.

You wouldn't believe how long that Sorting Hat's song took! I'm glad you approve.

To: Anonymous

Quite personally I too enjoy the anonymousness of your comments :) Maybe you could get an account with the name anonymous, if it hasn't already been taken.

The 'God yes keep going!' part makes me so happy! It really does!

I thought I put the party was on New Years Eve, or was held at the same time the New Year's Eve party was, which is incidentally December 31st, I'll have to check.

I have not specified why Tom could see the thestrals, but I'm planning to put that bit of information in one of my later chapters. So keep an eye out for it!

Tom will definitely venture off into Knockturn Alley whenever he gets the chance. But for what purpose? (Dramatic music goes here)

I am planning to do all seven sorting hat songs. Yes, I am that crazy :)