Chapter 29 - Operation: Raising Tom Riddle, Part 2


"Slytherin. Slytherin!" Albus yelled, gripping the metal railing that surrounded the bridge of M's TARDIS.

Everyone (except Tom, who was asleep in the Slytherin dormatory) stared. Dumbledore was shaking with rage, and when his hands came away, Harry could have sworn that the railing was bent. "Sir, do you really hate Slytherin that much-"

"Why else is that still green?" Albus cried, jabbing his finger towards the core of the TARDIS. His voice dropped in volume and took on a grief-stricken tone as he added, "What did we do wrong? What did we miss?"

"Stop. He's only eleven," said Arabella.

"I should've made sure he understood not to choose Slytherin. Michael, can we go back so I can make sure he understands?"

Before M could answer, Harry said, "Sir, I don't think it's right to take his choices away."

"Slytherin breeds Dark wizards."

"Why is that?"

"The kind of people who are sorted into that House are predisposed. Their families share certain agendas."

"And you think Tom also shares their agenda, despite tons of proof to the contrary?"

"No, Harry. Not yet."

"So...you think his peers are going to brainwash him?"

"Why give them the chance?"

Harry's gaze grew steely. "In the future you were going to –and I dunno, still might– meet a young man who despite being sorted into Slytherin and joining a group that sought to eradicate Muggleborns, realised his error and had the courage to defy a Dark Lord at extreme personal risk in a way that only a Slytherin could've pulled off and proved crucial to winning a war. His childhood was miserable, he was drawn to the Dark Arts from the start, he was bullied mercilessly by Gryffindors, yet he still ended up doing the right thing because being sorted into Slytherin doesn't make you evil. And you had the nerve to say to him that Hogwarts 'sorts too early' instead of something, like, I dunno, 'you honor your House.'"

Dumbledore's eyebrows had been raised for a while. "I said that?"

Harry took a breath, then continued in a calmer tone, "Yes, in that future. I'm sorry, Sir, but you're just wrong this time. Yes, the TARDIS is still a horcrux, but there's no good reason to connect that with Tom being in Slytherin. Will you please consider other explanations?"

Albus nodded, but in the silence that followed, no other explanations were forthcoming.

They had brought the locket, diadem, and cup with them when they first set out into the past, and all had reverted into a pre-horcrux state around Tom's seventh birthday (early childhood had apparently played a crucial role in his development), much to their relief. Even Harry's scar had faded entirely, which made him very excited because it meant that his parents might be alive and well in the revised future. Yet, he could remember the scar, remember growing up at the Dursleys, just as he could remember the destruction of the objects that were now clearly unbroken. He was confused. If his scar had vanished didn't that mean that his past had already changed and he should be able to recall a different childhood? He asked the Doctor, who explained that while Harry was traveling in the past his perception would not change because those events hadn't happened yet, relative to their current perspective, but when he returned to observe the results in his present, his memories would then fall into place. The Doctor also said that residual memories of alternate timelines sometimes lingered as a side effect of being a time traveler. This confused Harry even more, so he decided to stop asking such questions. The important thing was that Harry and the objects weren't horcruxes anymore nor did they show any sign of ever having been horcruxes. Unless future Tom had decided to make a different set of horcruxes, perhaps out of more mundane objects, this was a good indication that they were succeeding.

The TARDIS was different, that much was plain to see. Hermione had theorized that something happening to the TARDIS might happen at every materialization of the TARDIS across space-time, but the Doctor had pointed out that someone had once spray-painted on the outside of his TARDIS and the graffiti did not appear at every point it had visited. (Of course, there was that one time the TARDIS had simultaneously exploded everywhere it had ever been and Amy had had to reset the entire universe, but the Doctor thought that would just worry everyone so he didn't bring it up). Hermione had replied that making a horcrux was a more fundamental alteration than spray-painting the surface of something. She went on to describe Transfiguration to the Doctor, who tried to understand but couldn't wrap his mind around the physics involved in turning a Draco Malfoy into a ferret, not that he'd paid much attention in physics class back on Gallifrey, anyway. An interminable discussion sprung up between Hermione and M, which the Doctor gladly tuned out.

They had talked in circles before and were here again, right where they'd started, and nobody had anything left to say. They all knew that the best option was to maintain patience and observe what Tom would do next.


The Diary of Tom Marvolo Riddle-Figg-Dumbledore

July 13, 1939

I haven't written in this Diary for such a long time. So much happened during my first year at Hogwarts that I would need to write a book in order to get it all down. Being in Slytherin has been interesting to say the least. I haven't told anyone that I'm the Heir of Slytherin. It was only my first year after all, and that information is sort of my 'ace in the hole' to use a term from the American West. I love playing poker with my family. Some of their tells are so obvious.

Anyway, during my first year I made a lot of acquaintances, was never impolite to anyone no matter what House they are in, and didn't get involved with the bullying some Slytherins think is par for the course. When they tried to pressure me I'd just say 'it doesn't interest me. It's childish and bad for the Slytherin image' and I saw it gave some of them pause, so that's a start.

I'm one of the tallest kids in my year and I got top marks in every class, so I did manage to stand out but I wasn't a teacher's pet and didn't get too much attention. Girls stare at me a lot and giggle and tell me I'm handsome but they won't really talk to me. I miss Violet. She did move to Paris and we exchange letters. She is going to an all-girls school and is in the choir.

I've decided I want to go to Little Hangleton to meet my birth father and the family of my birth mother. I was worried this would upset Mum and Dad but they said it is perfectly normal and they support me. They told me the truth about my birth mother. She had a very sad life and made mistakes but she really loved my birth father. But because there was a love spell involved, he didn't love her back and left her. She was so depressed and broken hearted she couldn't go on. She couldn't care for me and neither could my birth father and I don't really blame them...it was all so sad...but it still makes me a little angry. Ashley said it's okay to be a little angry, even a lot. She's a Healer, so I trust her on that. Ashley, Mum and Dad are going with me to Little Hangleton, but I'm going to the Riddle house myself. We can go whenever I want. I just wanted to write this stuff down beforehand as a reminder to myself.

I am loved. I have a family.

Okay, so we're back from Little Hangleton. It was really weird. My grandfather Marvolo Gaunt died a few years ago, but my uncle Morfin was there in this really sad and dirty shack. He had been in Azkaban and has gone quite mad. Azkaban is probably the worst place in the world from what I hear. He immediately started yelling at me that I looked like "that Muggle" who had married my mother and then abandoned her. I told him I knew all that and then he didn't seem to know what else to say. He just stared at me and kept playing with this weird ring he had, looking scared like I was going to hex him and steal it or something.

We went up the road a while until we got to the Riddle House, which is up on a hill. It's a really nice house, not as ridiculous as ours, but still very stately and grand, looking out over a grassy valley. I guess it would've been a nice place to grow up, but it's pretty far from London.

I went up to the house by myself and knocked. A butler came to answer. I gave my full name and said that I wanted to meet with Tom Riddle Sr if he wanted to, and was told to wait outside. Not being invited into the drawing room was a little rude already, but I didn't say anything. I mean, I had shown up unannounced but I looked presentable. I'd worn nice clothes (Muggle clothes) and combed my hair and everything. After what seemed like a very long time the butler came back and said that Tom Riddle Sr was "disinclined to meet me", and that he was sorry. I'm not sure if it was the butler or Mr Riddle who was sorry but it didn't seem authentic. It was like the 'sorry' people say all the time like a tic that doesn't mean anything.

I was going to leave but then everything sort of just hit me and I said that I really really needed to see him. I said he didn't need to say anything just listen for a minute, and I wasn't there asking for money because I was already insanely wealthy, and I wasn't asking for him to explain anything or apologise or be my dad because I knew everything about what had happened and it was okay and I already have an awesome family. The butler went back inside to deliver the message and a few minutes later Tom Riddle Sr came outside.

He looked really scared. He stayed by the door and stared at me. I used a little Legilimency and that made me QUITE sure I was unwelcome, but also he was curious about the words 'insanely wealthy'. What a git.

But there he was. We do really look alike, it's weird. I let him be scared for a little while then said (I'd rehearsed this): "I'm a wizard. I have magic, like Merope had. What she did was wrong, putting a spell on you. Wizards and witches shouldn't do that sort of thing and I want you to know that they can be arrested for doing so. I'm sorry that she did what she did, but I'm not sorry I was born because I was adopted by the greatest people and I've had a great life so far and it's only going to get better. I just wanted to tell you that."

After that, he still looked scared and a little impatient. I could tell he didn't get the point of why I was there. It wasn't really about him, anyway, so I just said "Thank you for seeing me. I won't come round again. Goodbye" and I turned and walked back down the hill. I looked back and saw the faces of my grandparents poking out a second-storey window. I smiled and waved, and they pulled back inside and slammed the shutters closed. Ha ha ha.

I met up with Mum and Dad and Ashley back down the hill. They looked really worried like I was about to have a breakdown or something, or like they were going to cry. Seeing them like that did make me feel like crying a little but not in a bad way. Dad hugged me for way too long like I'd been gone for years instead of like twenty minutes. After we got home Dad gave me that ring that my uncle had been wearing (he said Morfin had decided I ought to have it. Not sure if I totally believe that.) It is really cool looking, with this dark grey stone with a cool symbol on it. Dad told me it's a family heirloom and should be passed down from generation to generation. I told him the Gaunts and Peverells aren't really my family, but he said they are a part of me and I'm part of history. Even if I don't agree with pure-bloods I come from a long line of wizards and I shouldn't be ashamed of anything...not of being a Parselmouth or the mistakes of my ancestors or my birth parents.

I guess I can wear the ring for a while and see if I like it.

Whoa, it's really late now, I should get to sleep.


September 22, 1939

Germany has invaded Poland. Great Britain and France have declared war against Germany. I listened to it all day yesterday on my Muggle radio even though I had to walk far away from Hogwarts for it to work properly.

It is really hard for me to focus on classes with a war going on. What's extra weird is a lot of Witzies don't seem to notice or care about the war (conspiracy theory: Muggle radios don't work here ON PURPOSE). These kids are perfectly happy going to Quidditch games and gossiping about who's snogging who, but mention the war and they stare at you like you're insane for caring about anything outside the Witzie world. Don't they get that the Witzie world exists WITHIN the Muggle world, and the Muggles have guns and bombs and tanks. We aren't invincible.

The kids are probably just not mature enough to realize how serious the situation is. Sometimes I wish I weren't precocious and taking a 'long view' of everything. I wish I could just be happy like them. I think a lot about what the Sorting Hat said, when it warned me I might forfeit my happiness if I take too rigid a stance. I have to take the 'short view' too, and enjoy my childhood while I'm a child, enjoy the company of other children. Deep breaths, deep breaths. That's what Mum would say.

Mum is here, actually, she has been working an assistant nurse in the infirmary. Mum and Dad let me receive Muggle newspapers (and the Daily Prophet) by owl at breakfast every morning, as long as I don't get too personally upset by the news. Now that's a hard thing to promise.

Wait, hold on, I'm not being fair...there is a kid in Slytherin in my year called Alphard Black who is really smart, cares about issues, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't think blood purity is important because every time the topic comes up he either doesn't comment or finds a subtle way to leave the conversation. I haven't asked him directly about it because the truth is if people in Slytherin find out you're a "blood traitor" there's no coming back from that socially. It would ruin my plans. But I think I might be able to trust Alphard. We are both in the Slug Club. Horace Slughorn seems a bit shallow, he just wants to be around people who are powerful or might get famous. But at least he's smart and interesting and can tell me stuff about the Dark Arts.


September 22, 1940

Well, it's been exactly one year since I last wrote, and London is being bombed by the Nazis. They're calling it 'the Blitz'. Our house, Grangers' School, St. Mungo's Hospital, and Diagon Alley, etc, are protected by magic but thousands of people are dying and houses are being destroyed. I don't understand why Witzies can't protect more of London or for that matter DO SOMETHING ABOUT THE WAR.

Well, maybe they are and it's just secret or something. I hope.

I asked David and Michael about using the TARDIS to prevent the war. They said it's way too big a time event to stop it and it's full of 'fixed points'. I asked about just killing Hitler and the top-level Nazis and David said "that's a time traveler trope" and that his friend even tried it once but it 'didn't work out'. Trope? Didn't work out? Sometimes I can't tell if he's trying to be clever or if he's just completely mad.

France surrendered to Germany in June, but De Gaulle went on the radio and said "France has lost a battle, but France has not lost the war." I wrote to Violet. She is scared but all right. Lots of people have died in France. Lots of civilians.

We have problems in the Witzie world, too. Grindlewald is waging a war that's a lot like what's going on in the Muggle world. I think he was inspired by Hitler. The Ministry is trying to stop him of course, but it's going to come down to Dad, I think, since he's the most powerful Witzie (and I have this feeling he knows Grindlewald. It's not like, a psychic feeling. Dad just knows EVERYONE.) But for some REASON Dad won't do anything, like he's waiting until the Ministry runs out of other options. I guess he's a bit of a pacifist.

I've been having what Ashley calls 'panic attacks'. We talked a lot about what might be causing them and I told her the truth...I really don't feel safe. I want to learn Defense Against the Dark Arts at a level they don't offer at Hogwarts. Let's face it, the D.A.D.A. they teach to kids here is a JOKE compared to real life Dark Arts. Ashley admitted this is true and she said she wouldn't tell Dad but suggested that I do. I'm worried about what he'll say and think...but I need to learn it or I'll never feel safe.

I talked to Dad about it. He said he'll let me take a course at Durmstrang (!) in the summer, but not to mention it to Mum or anyone for now. Until then, Professor Merrythought is going to let me do N.E.W.T.-level work even though I'm a third year. I'm pretty surprised that he agreed to this so easily. I thought he'd get an Auror to show me some self-defense or something...but Durmstrang? That place is serious.


March 12, 1941

A month ago, I told Alphard that I'm the Heir of Slytherin, to see if he'd tell anyone. He didn't. It's so hard to know who you can trust in Slytherin. I've been friendly with people in other Houses and I get questioned about it a lot, about their blood status and why I'm hanging out with them, etc. But it's been helpful to see which Slytherins DON'T ask me, because they might be good allies. Abraxas Malfoy, a fourth year, has been really friendly and I don't think he's faking it (I may have used a little Legilimens). I would just go around using Legilimency on everyone but some of these kids are pretty good Occlumens. I guess if you're rich and Slytherin you get lessons in Occlumency from a young age. I'm glad Legilimency is harder to learn (most people have to say the spell but I can already do it non-verbally and wandlessly), so I've still got an advantage over them. But I'm not the best Occlumens yet.

It's official, I'm going to Durmstrang from July 1st – 30th.


"You said he could do what?!" shrieked Arabella.

"It's only for one month," said Albus.

"Even I know Durmstrang Institute takes a much different stance on the Dark Arts. You were so upset when he was sorted into Slytherin, and now you want to send him there?! Merlin, Albus, have you given up?"

"On the contrary. Harry was right. We need to trust that Tom will always choose to do the right thing. If we try to restrict him from the Dark Arts we'll never know for sure, and it might drive him away from us. He only wants to learn to defend himself, Ara. The world is in chaos these days and it's especially terrifying to a fourteen-year-old. If it will stop his panic attacks, he should do it."

Arabella thought this over. It deeply upset her that Tom was suffering from such anxiety and if anything could help, well...she had to admit it was worth a try. "One month, then straight back here. I'll hear no talk of transferring schools. None whatsoever. And he is going to owl us every day."

She knew that last part was a little unreasonable. Still, Albus made Tom promise to honor her request, and he did.

The summer weather of Sweden was similar to that of London, but much sunnier. The group of eleven Durmstrang students (five male and six female) who had stayed for the summer session, plus the Hogwarts exchange student (Tom), took their lessons outdoors during the day. This was partly to take advantage of the mild season, but mostly to utilize the elaborate obstacle courses and mock battlefields set up on the sprawling grounds around the castle. The castle itself was much smaller than Hogwarts, but it was a foreboding fortress and was perfect for learning to fight in dim, close quarters.

Tom loved the training. It was extremely difficult, even infuriating at times, but he could feel himself getting stronger day by day, and soon rose to the top of the small class.

The others whispered about him in Swedish and various Slavic languages, though he clearly caught the name Dumbledore being said with barely-veiled mockery. One of the boys even called him "son of a Muggle-lover" while they were dueling, but Tom decided not to get hung up on that. Despite their conflicting attitudes he had been allowed to study at Durmstrang, after all (though it might have something to do with his dad's generous donation to the Institute). He focused on learning, and the more impressive Tom's magic became, the less whispering he heard. By the second week, a few of the other students even started speaking to him in English. A rangy boy named Aleksandr Varsky who was far and away the best duelist among them took particular interest in Tom, talking with him after every lesson, giving him tips on his fighting technique, and sitting next to him at meals. Aleksandr was one year older, had ash blonde hair and grey eyes that pierced Tom's with practiced ease. Aleksandr swiftly pried things from Tom's mind that he'd never told anyone, but the older boy didn't do so to humiliate him, only to help him improve his Occlumency.

One evening after class, he asked Tom to come along on a secret adventure. He Apparated them to a hill overlooking train tracks, where a seemingly endless caravan of railway cars was moving by. "Do you know what's in there, Tom?"

The younger boy shook his head. The older one continued, "Howitzer cannons, tanks, anti-aircraft weapons, ammunition...the German 163rd Infantry Division. Sweden is letting the Nazis pass through from Norway to Finland."

"I thought Sweden was neutral."

"This is a breach of neutrality. I'm Jewish. My father is Russian, my mother is German. We were living in Berlin. We came here because we thought it was safe, and it does seem to be safe for Jews if they can get here."

Tom looked at Aleksandr. Aleksandr looked at the train going by and quietly said, "Sweden is also letting Nazi soldiers on leave pass through. Would you like to kill some with me?"

When his friend didn't answer, the taller boy turned and locked eyes with him, all Occlusion dropped, and Tom could see that he wasn't joking in the slightest. A chill ran through him. Aleksandr smirked and said, "No? Maybe next year."

They Apparated back to Durmstrang without exchanging another word. Tom was afraid Aleksandr would leave again to go kill someone, but instead he lay down on his bed and closed his eyes. Tom waited until everyone was asleep before writing his daily letter.

"Dear Mum and Dad (+ Everyone),

Training is still going great, nothing new to report. I hope you are all well. Next we are learning to resist Imperius.

Love, Tom."

Tom sent the owl, blew out his lamp, curled up on his side, and stared out into the darkness.