Chapter 11: A Villain by any Other Name

Oddly enough once we discovered the truth about Tom's origins, he wanted nothing more but to keep the information to himself. He liked having a secret like that. A big secret or at least he thought so. He liked the idea of having better origins than those that tormented him.

"Just think," Tom said on the day of our discovery. "How many people can say that they descended from one of the founders of Hogwarts?"

I could. Although, I never told Tom that. Can you imagine how dejected he would have gotten if had found out he was standing next to one of the descendants of Helga Hufflepuff? If I would have said that the thing he thought set him apart really didn't? I couldn't do it. In that moment he was so happy. Now, I wonder about if I had said something. If I had rained on his parade. If I had told Tom that Salazaar Slytherin probably had thousands of descendants. Would it have changed anything? Would Hector have lived? Would Myrtle have lived? Would countless others have lived? Could it have saved my life? Would Voldermort never been brought into existence? I don't know…I don't know.

I do know that Tom Riddle's alter ego began to form that very day. Tom started taking to writing his name on parchment and staring at for 20 to 30 minutes at a time. "Gwen, what do you think of the name Tom?" He asked me the week before the Christmas holiday.

"I don't think anything about the name Tom. It's a name like any other," I replied.

"Exactly," Tom stated exasperated. "How can I distinguish myself with a name like Tom? Salazaar, now that's a name that people remembered!"

"It was probably a very common name for its time and for the one Salazaar that distinguished himself there was probably a thousand others that didn't. It's our contributions that live on more so than our names," I stated, but Tom wasn't listening. He had a tendency not to listen to anything he didn't want to hear or when he made up his mind about something. That's the mark of an idiot. I don't care how smart a person is. I told him as much too. You could say things like that to Tom (or at least I could). You can't say things like that to Voldermort, he's a sensitive little prick.

"Tom we need to figure out what to do about your rooming situation. You can't keep sleeping on the common room floor." I stated after sometime.

"I already fixed it," Tom replied. "I'm rooming with yours truly Absinth Lorry."

"Oh," For those of you that don't know that 'Oh' meant that I was pissed. Over the past semester his rooming problem and the question of his origins had become my problems too. I worked around the clock trying to help him, while ignoring my own glaring social problems. And he fixes it and doesn't even bother to inform me! "It's almost tome for dinner, we should head down," I knew he wanted me to ask him how he did it, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. I didn't wait for Tom to get up. I walked out of the Room of Requirements straight down to the dining hall and for the first time since the opening feast I sat down and had dinner with my fellow Ravenclaws. They were all in a pretty forgiving mood. It was Christmas after all.

I spent the rest of the week avoiding Tom. It wasn't really hard since he was upset that I had walked out on him. He always referred to this period as the time he wasn't talking to me. When it was clearly the other way around. However, I digress. I spent a lot of time in the Ravenclaw Common Room with Maxwell and Myrtle. Myrtle wasn't too bad when it came to companionship. I mean sure her voice was high and squeaky, and she her a temperament that lean towards self-pity. However, if you took her mind off of her tormentors, she be could be really insightful. Perhaps too insight.

"So, the interhouse duo known as the Evans- Riddle dynamic pair are to be no more," Myrtle states with a laugh as Maxwell and I battle it out in a game of wizards chess.

Myrtle's taunt doesn't bother me. I just don't know how to respond to it. Is my friendship with Tom really over? Were we ever friends to begin with? At that point in time, I did not know. So, I took the route of strategic avoidance. "Why, Are you tired having me around already?"

Myrtle sees through my ruse though and continues as if hadn't spoken at all. I realize it way too late. I have already been boxed into a corner. "Myrtle!" I yelled. "How could you?

"What?" she said with a laugh. "I'm just talking. Is it really my fault you weren't giving this game your undivided attention? Don't be a sore loser. Move over it's my turn."

I hate to admit, but she got in my head. Before I knew I was paying more attention to what Myrtle was saying than I was to the game. I watched as she beat Maxwell and then it was my turn. Just Myrtle and I in a final show down. I thought I would have her. I was wise to her tricks now, but somehow she did it again! I never did win a game against Myrtle in wizard's chess. I was never able to tune out her voice and no matter how many times I played against her she always sounded so casual like her mind was truly on other things. All the while she was leading you into a trap.

"Okay, best two out of three! I'm wise to your tricks Myrtle Miller," I stated with confidence.

"Are you sure? I like to leave a person's dignity intact," Myrtle stated as she sets up her side of the board.