Okay, as promised, today's chapter. :)
I thought that would be the end of Tavish Ryder. It must be incredibly hard to overcome that kind of mental invasion. Even though his thoughts were not his own, it is hard to separate what is you and what isn't. Tavish felt like he was going crazy, like he was losing control, like he was turning into something darker than he had ever been. The darkness welcomed him like an old friend, and he found himself sinking into it. In the same way that Tom Riddle had deteriorated and fallen into his hatred, Tavish was beginning to crumble.
But there was one thing Tavish Ryder had that Tom Riddle never got: friends. Tavish truly cared for other people and had real compassion, and it was no wonder that he had friends who cared for him in return. Not followers, as Voldemort had had; true friends who would embrace him and help him when things began to go wrong.
Just when I was worried that Tavish Ryder would crumble and become Tom Riddle once more, Romulus stepped in.
Rom was walking down from the library to go watch the Gryffindor quidditch try outs, just as Tavish was retreating from the pitch. If it was not for Romulus's caring and kindness, it is entirely possible that Voldemort would have been reborn and come to power in the years that followed - but Rom saw Tavish's panicked face and stopped him in the middle of the path.
"Tavish, what's wrong?" Rom asked, his face truly sincere.
"Nothing," Tavish said. Tavish felt emotions rising up inside him; he wanted to say more, he wanted to say that everything was going wrong. Tavish was losing his mind and he was alone because who could he tell? If he told anyone he had been about to kill someone, he'd get locked away. He wanted to tell Rom, he wanted to scream, he wanted to pull at his hair - but he felt trapped inside of himself. "Nothing," he repeated, more for his own benefit than Rom's.
"Tavish, don't be silly," Rom said. "I can see something is the matter. Was it quidditch?"
Tavish stared at Rom, baffled, before it dawned on him. Rom thought the reason for Tavish's distress was that he had failed his quidditch try outs. "No," Tavish said, surprised.
"You are very pale," Rom said, pursing his lips with concern. "Are you feeling well? Perhaps Madam Pomfrey would help..."
"I'm fine," Tavish said, trying to step around Rom and escape up the path. Instead, Rom reached out and grabbed his arm.
"I'll walk with you," Rom said determinedly, certain that something had upset Tavish. Tavish swallowed dryly and said,
"Alright..."
"You know you can tell me whatever is bothering you, don't you?" Rom said as they continued up the path to the castle. "I know we haven't known each other for very long, but I will try to help you with whatever it is - and if I can't help, at least I can listen to your troubles."
"Thanks," Tavish mumbled.
"I mean it," Rom said, forcing Tavish to meet his gaze. "You don't have to worry or be embarrassed about whatever it is. I will do everything I can to help you. You have my word."
Rom's face was solemn and a certain wisdom lurked behind his eyes that no eleven-year-old should possess. Tavish looked at him, not sure what to say.
"I haven't been sleeping well," Tavish said. It was only a partial truth, but he knew Rom wanted an explanation. He couldn't bring himself to lie to Rom, either; not when Rom was so sincere.
"Are you homesick?" Rom prodded, beginning to feel genuine concern for Tavish's welfare.
"No," Tavish said hesitantly. "It's... well, I've been having nightmares since school started. It doesn't have anything to do with home."
"Do you think it might be caused by a food you've been eating?" Rom asked. "My gran has bad dreams whenever she eats yogurt before bed."
"No." Tavish shook his head. "I haven't been eating anything different. And I didn't have these dreams last year or over the summer, they're new."
"What are they about?" Rom asked. When he saw Tavish's discomfort, he added, "Remember, you can tell me anything."
"They're about... I don't really know," Tavish said. "Most of the time I can't remember them once I wake up. But there's always flashes of green light, sometimes there's laughing. The worst ones are when I can see someone's eyes... Normally they're dead eyes, and cold, and empty. I think I kill them... In the dreams, I mean."
Tavish looked at Rom nervously, but he didn't see any judgement or fear in Rom's eyes. Rom still had the same expression of sincere concern, and was clearly not judging Tavish for his nightmares.
"Nightmares can ruin anyone," Rom comforted. "It takes away your sleep, if you have them too much you might even start hallucinating."
At these words, relief flooded through Tavish. Maybe that's what happened on the pitch - a hallucination induced by a lack of sleep. Yes, it was such a simple explanation, and it fit in so perfectly with his nightmares that it all made sense. Yes, that had to be the answer.
"You're right," Tavish said, the relief evident in his voice.
"Well, we better figure out how to stop the nightmares then, shouldn't we?" Rom said. Tavish couldn't help but notice the word we, and it seemed like the isolation was melting away from him. "Any idea what's causing them, or should we start from square one?"
"Well... I heard that there is a Cursed Bunk in the second year Slytherin room." Tavish frowned thoughtfully. "It might be that. But I have no idea how to tell if it's cursed or not."
"Well, did you happen to hear why it was cursed?" Rom said, perking up at the mention of such a simple cause.
"Supposedly it was Voldemort's bunk."
"Oh, well, that's easy enough!" Rom said, smiling. "If he cursed it, he would've marked it in some way. Probably put his name on it, maybe on the bedposts. How about you check, and I'll wait in the library since I can't go into the Slytherin rooms. If that's it, we'll get you a new bunk and this whole mess should start sorting itself out."
Tavish found himself smiling back at Rom and nodded his agreement. They had reached the castle now and once inside the doors, they walked in separate directions - Tavish to the Slytherin rooms, and Rom to the commons. Tavish ran to his room, hoping that he would find Voldemort's name somewhere on the bed. Could the source of all his problems really be so simple? He thought it was, but he wouldn't know until he found the name.
When he entered the room, Nini was curled up in the sunlight streaming in from one of the windows.
"How did quidditcchhhh go?" she hissed, flickering her tongue out at him.
"Fine," Tavish said, dashing to his bunk and looking all over. He scanned the bedposts and the backboard carefully, but there was nothing there. He pushed the mattress around so he could see more of the wood, but he still saw nothing.
"What are you looking forrr?"
"Something scratched into the bunk," he said, beginning to panic again. "I can't find it anywhere. A name, letters, something -"
"Oh, that," Nini said, slithering down from the windowsill and towards the bed. "It'sssss down here... Where the ratssss like to hide..."
"Rats hide under my bed?!" Tavish demanded. "And you never thought to tell me this before?!"
"I ate them," Nini said helpfully. "Do you want to see the scratches or not?"
Tavish sighed and dropped to the ground, scooting under the bed where Nini was. Nini flickered her tongue out at a spot on the boards that supported the box spring of his mattress. Sure enough, there were rough hand-carved letters dug into the wood. It was a huge long list of words, and Tavish wondered how anyone could have not noticed the list. He skimmed through it, and to his surprise, it seemed to be where Tom Riddle had tried to think out all the possible names he could have before settling on Voldemort.
Tom Marvolo Riddle
Mr. Dovetail Lord
Mr. Dr. Volatile Doom
Tom Dildo Arm Lover
I Am Overlord Dmolt
I Am Lord Molde Vort
I Am Lord Old Mevort
I Am Lord Temovrold
I Am Lord Voldemort
There was a circle around the last one, and lines through the first seven ideas. Tavish stared at it for a minute, dumbfounded, reading through the list again. He shook his head; he couldn't believe how much time Voldemort must have spent to come up with his name. Tavish would never waste his time on something so ridiculous. But still, he found his evidence; this bed was what was giving him the nightmares. Now, all he had to do was go tell Rom and they would get this mess sorted out, and all his troubles would go away...
Of course, nothing is ever that simple - troubles never really go away.