Last Chapter...
He walked up the corridor and took in a most curious sight.
Blood.
Dumbledore.
An unconscious student.
Two Gryffindors, and a Healer ushering some bloodied student away.
"Ah! Tom, good to see you up and about." Dumbledore called to the man just lingering a little ways up the hall.
Dumbledore silently added to himself, and good you didn't get out and about sooner. You just missed Hadrian. Thank the lord for Poppy arriving when she did.
Chapter Eight
Getting Caught Up To Speed
Has Harry ever mentioned he hates the hospital wing?
Because he does. So very much. He had been lying in bed, being watched like a hawk by a barely legal Madam Pomphrey while his wound healed for over twenty minutes. Which, in his estimation, was far too long.
Harry couldn't help thinking to himself that using Parsel Magic would have taken no longer than a couple of minutes.
His second day at Hogwarts, and he was already under bed arrest. How stupid, really. Now he had to sit here and waste away time. Well, at least most of his morning was productive. He had gained Slughorn's favor with the right attitude, and now had the Slytherins confused by him. Should they hate Harry- or what?
He felt a little evil. But, of course, not like in a Dark-Lord-looking-for-mass-control way.
But not all went well this morning, and he wasn't just referring to getting stuck in a strict nurse's care.
Dumbledore. The man had always been a sort of enigma to Harry, but today there was something in his eyes Harry had never seen before. Or at least, never before seen directed at him.
There wasn't an exact word for it. Just something different, off, distrusting in the Headmaster's face. A distant look, as if when peering down at Harry from his half-moon spectacles, he wasn't really seeing Harry.
Then again, here he wasn't Harry. He was Hadrian Riddle. And as much as Harry hoped that Dumbledore was not drawing conclusions (false ones at that!) about his last name, the man tended to meddle and mix in matters that were not his. He tended to assume.
Harry however had no clue if those conclusions even mattered. He had no information on current wizarding world affairs, he wasn't even sure Voldemort was a thing. Perhaps Riddle hadn't even been born here. Harry could maybe just be acting paranoid about the Dumbledore thing. But the Hat had mentioned sorting a Riddle before him...
Though even as he thought this, Harry knew it was not only paranoia.
"If I may inquire, why is it that the newest hallway decor seems to be blood and unconscious student?"
"A mere misunderstanding," Albus said in a disregarding manner.
"Doesn't appear to be. Tensions running high between houses, I presume?"
"You don't have to presume, Tom. I know that you are well aware of the escalating issues among the Hogwarts houses." The old man's voice was tired now.
"How was the boy injured, the one being taken away by that new nurse?"
"Took a Diffindo to the chest, Madam Pomphrey should heal him right up." Tom nodded and smiled pleasantly, as if he particularly cared. Small talk rather was his area of expertise, but that didn't mean he actually enjoyed it, Dumbledore knew. Tom seemed to enjoy very little.
"I suppose you apprehended the attacker with a Stupefy?" Tom glanced to the still unmoving student. Rodulphus Lestrange. Pity, that he was so useless to have gone down with one spell. His father had always been rather advanced back in the day, apparently the talent hadn't been passed on.
"No, in fact that was young Hadrian's doing. He didn't take well to being cursed." Tom was mildly surprised.
"He didn't go down after dealing with the Diffindo?" Apparently the abilities of Hogwarts' students wasn't completely forfeit. "How old is this child again?"
Dumbledore hesitated.
It was only for a fraction of a second, but Tom caught it.
"This is his first year, here at school." Now that upgraded Tom's mild surprise to mild appreciation, not to mention Dumbledore's hesitation- which added a small spark of interest. Hadrian, hm?
Oh, what did he care. Lord Voldemort had better things to do with his time than wonder on the abilities of the Hogwarts first years.
Harry threw another cursory glance around the room, this time though something caught his eye.
Sticking out just slightly from under a pillow, was a paper.
A newspaper, to be exact.
Natural curiosity took hold, and he walked over to the paper.
Madam Pomphrey was gone for the moment anyways. Off to fetch healing creams. She wouldn't have to know of his little traipse out of bed.
It was dated July 17th, 1971. So, earlier this summer. It was like someone was watching Harry, and heard him complain about not knowing anything political. Because this paper cleared everything up.
GRINDELWALD GRABS HOLD OF GRINGOTTS
As most are aware, the notorious Dark Lord Grindelwald seized Gringotts and the Goblin nation within hostage nearly a week ago. Now sources say that the goblins are planning to make a deal with the devil himself.
Wizards and witches are still able to withdraw and make deposits, the goblins have claimed to the Liaison Office, but that is at the discretion of the Dark Lord. Many avoid making a trip to Gringotts on this basis
If the goblins end up siding with the Dark wizard, I am afraid- as we all should be -that this may be the end of the Wizarding World as we know it. Numerous powerful items are within the treacherous depths of Gringotts, and with money supply cut off the British wizarding nation would be lost.
Again, no such threats have been made, but the implication lingers in the air.
The Minister was not available for comment when approached, and the Liaison Office has offered no further detail.
Harry turned the page to find another shocking headline hitting him in the face.
RIDDLE RESCUES HUNDREDS
In a raid led by some of Grindelwald's best, Spell Master Thomas Marvolo Riddle (age 31) delayed the oncoming attack, and everyone within the building they were planning to burn, escaped with no harm done.
Everyone, I am sure, applauds his bravery and skill, but some others may wonder why he had even been there that night. The building held a private Ministry function, not to mention there have been unsavoury rumours circling the genius. After the two earlier incidents in the Spell Master's career, he's been virtually banned from formal involvement with the MoM.
The facts together don't bode well for Riddle. Perhaps this a ploy to gain favour of ministry officials, or to gain trust, for something more? Perhaps even to forgive earlier transgressions?
He spent many years after his Hogwarts graduation traveling the world, and worked as an intern at Borgin & Burkes, a store down Knockturn Alley well known for its Dark artefacts. An unassuming but successful life before the Salzburg siege, and the plots that followed.
But should we, dear readers, seed distrust so easily, or forgive even easier? Is the tale here to be: Tom Riddle, an unsung hero?
There is gratefulness for his aid, but in these times you never know who you can trust- not with all the facts.
Written by Leanne Skeeter, Reporter for the Daily Prophet
Harry wasn't sure what to think. He liked to believe that Voldemort was just as evil here and active, but as it was he was in an alternate universe. It was possible Tom Riddle hadn't even became Voldemort. Judgement would have to wait, it seemed.
But if it was him. Voldemort. Harry wouldn't hesitate.
Then, of course, there's Grindelwald. Whom apparently was not defeated yet. Yeah. Oh and Riddle was only 31 years old? so that meant the timeline was a bit screwed up too. It just keeps getting better and better.
To sum up the bare facts:
Riddle was 31, and not yet acknowledged as Voldemort. Maybe he wasn't? And there was this talk about the Salzburg siege- clearly he'd been involved with something that made him a suspicious character- but under his true name, not a moniker.
Grindelwald is the leading Dark Lord, and clearly successful to have broken into Gringotts and to remain. Harry didn't know what to make of that.
Dumbledore was acting strange. Very on-point for Dumbledore.
Harry was labeled with the last name Riddle. Joy.
He felt like he had lived here all his life, which was odd and needed to be investigated unless... the ritualistic manner of theory worked. This was where he was most meant to be. Either way, Harry needed to find out the specifics of the spell he used to get here- time to emulate a Ravenclaw and research even more.
He was currently staying at Wool's Orphange in the summer, which was a creepy coincidence.
That just about summed it all up neat and clean.
Madam Pomphrey still hadn't returned from wherever she went to get those creams, and Harry was getting more restless. The chest wound was now a dull ache, so in Gryffindor fashion he made his escape.
He turned the corner from the infirmary, checking behind him constantly. He felt like any second the nurse would return. But he rounded the corner and barreled down the stairs without anyone stopping him.
With caution though, he slid one more look backwards. In this moment, he collided with a very solid something in front of him. Harry felt his chest injury smart horribly as he tumbled to the ground on top of the poor person he had walked into.
The person had dropped their books on the floor when Harry hit them, and Harry immediately scrambled to pick them up while the person began to stand back upwards.
With the books balanced in one hand, Harry stood.
"I apologize," he said, "I hadn't been paying attention to where I was-" Harry stopped dead in his words when he made eye contact with the man he had toppled over. A very familiar man, who was eyeing him in surprise and apprehension.
His name was Tom Marvolo Riddle.
Harry knew him better as Lord Voldemort.