The A.P.W.B.D.F.C.
"All right everyone," Tom says while standing in the middle of their dorm room. "Welcome to the first official meeting of the Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore Fan Club."
The members give him weak smiles – they're shy, the poor things – and nod along.
"As the A.P.W.B.D.F.C., our main objectives are three," he exposes. "One: Admire Professor Dumbledore. Two: Attempt to live up to his standards." His eyes travel toward Ertan, who's not the sharpest tool in his shed, and he adds, "to the best of our abilities. And three: Make Professor Dumbledore proud of us."
Thoros raises his hand.
"Are we supposed to follow that list?" he asks, his voice wavering.
The Great Achievements of Albus Dumbledore hangs on the wall nearest to the door, stuck close to the ceiling and reaching the floor.
"Good question," Tom says, and smiles encouragingly. Thoros' lips twitch, but the boy can't quite return the gesture. "I don't expect you to better Professor Dumbledore," he reassures them. "Just to attempt to. Which is why it's necessary to set some goals."
"Make the Philosopher's stone?" asks Mulciber, who's sitting closest to the list, and looks a bit worried while reading it.
"That one's long term," Tom reassures him. "We'll start with the easy ones: mastering first-year spells. And in our first meeting, we'll focus on Transfigurations. We'll turn matches into needles, so that we're ready for tomorrow's class."
The news are received with more silence than excitement, strangely enough.
"Wait, you mean now?" asks Abraxas.
"When else?" They have double transfigurations first period, after all.
"But it's already eleven," says Argo. "Shouldn't we get some sleep?"
Sleep? While unprepared? How preposterous.
"The earlier your match turns pointy, the earlier you go to bed." Isn't it obvious?
The boys groan. Abraxas mutters something about his father.
Tom raises his wand towards the first trunk in his line of sight, but before he can cast his favourite spell, everyone's enthusiastically searching for a match.
Their first meeting is a categorical success.
The First Class
Albus has introduced many first years to the complex art of Transfigurations. After so many years teaching the subject, he's come to expect a few things. First, students tend to be both nervous and eager, which makes for a dangerous combination – he's ready to put out some fires. Second, hardly anyone ever succeeds in transfiguring a match into a needle during their first class.
Today, however, the mood is slightly different.
For some reason, five of his six Slytherins are having trouble staying awake. Tom's eyes, on the other hand, are open so wide Albus fears they'll dry. He wonders if the other kids, which come from prejudiced pureblood families, are pushing Tom aside – perhaps they spent the night having fun without the poor, orphan child?
Albus warns them all about the dangers of transfigurations and, to his surprise, the sleepy Slytherins make an extreme effort to note everything down.
Tom raises his hand so quickly he almost jumps out of his seat.
"Professor, if I may ask a question?" After Albus' nod, he goes on. "Is conjuring the exact opposite of vanishing?" he asks. "Meaning, are they arithmantical inverses?"
It takes Albus a couple seconds to process the question. The sight of his students panicking, however, makes him react.
"The answer is yes, Mr Riddle. However, these are all fifth year concepts…"
"How can vanishing be anything's inverse when it brings stuff to nothingness?" asks Thoros Nott then, "isn't 'nothing' a zero matrix?"
Albus hasn't seen a discussion of this level from anyone who's not in his O.W.L. class. What on Merlin's beard is up with these children?
The littlest Gryffindor in the front row is looking a little green. Margot Droope and William Alderton are looking at the Slytherins as if they've sprouted horns.
"Why don't we discuss this after class?" Albus suggests. "We really don't need to worry about such things until O.W.L.s, at least."
He hopes his words will help the rest of students relax. He stops the theory session and gives each of them a match – this way, they'll see they're all equally slow at first.
All six Slytherin boys manage on their first try.
Little Talbot Buchanan starts to cry.
Albus just wants the day to end.
The First Rival
Tom is beyond himself with happiness. Every single member of the A.P.W.B.D.F.C. has excelled. Professor Dumbledore must be so proud…
He waits with the rest of the boys for the Professor's extra lesson after class. It feels right, that he'd give them more of his time. They're the best, after all.
"I just don't understand how a zero matrix can be invertible," says Thoros, while Professor Dumbledore wastes his precious time consoling that dumb kid Buchanan.
"It's a good question," Tom praises, more impressed than he's willing to admit. Thoros has just become his favourite roommate.
While they wait, an older girl enters the classroom and walks straight to the Professor's desk. She drops a couple books on it, and gives them a sideways, annoyed glance. As if wondering what them little kids are doing there.
"Ah, Minerva!" says the Professor, "Right on time. I'll be with you in a second." He then walks to Tom and the boys, and says, "Mr Riddle, Mr Nott, will you excuse me? I'm afraid I promised to meet with Miss McGonagall first, to check on her Transfigurations side-project. Let's leave our exciting discussion for tomorrow."
He turns to the girl then, and Thoros and Irving have to drag Tom out of the class, the way he's stuck unmoving to his spot.
"Well, of course he'll listen to McGonagall first," says Margot Droope with a mean smirk as she passes them by. "She's his star pupil – I've heard Dumbledore will take her as an apprentice once she reaches her seventh year."
Tom's hit list currently reads:
- Garrick Ollivander
- The Sorting Hat (resistant to fire)
- Horace Slughorn
- Minerva McGonagall
- Margot Droope