A/N: I promised, and here he is, TOM! He's got his own evil scheme up his
sleeve, let's see if it will lead to something bad . . .
This chapter's for Dazma, because I was afraid she'd hurt me if I didn't put Tom in soon.
DISCLAIMER: The Harry Potter Universe is the property of JK Rowling and Scholastic books, plus other companies not named here.
A dreary rain pattered against the windows of an old tower, located high above Malfoy Manor. A single lantern lit in the room cast shadows on the walls that danced to the music of an unheard song. A long table stood against a wall on the far side of the tower, and on it laid a variety of interesting things. There were several scarlet phoenix feathers, and an envelope containing several dark, glossy hairs. An old leather book, the musty cover stamped in gold, reading "Property of Salazar Slytherin." A small iron-wrought mirror, with serpents swarming and twisting around the glass, the emerald eyes staring out at the user, and baring their silver fangs, lay between about ten small phials, all filled with potion ingredients in colors of pus-yellow, bile green and venomous red. There was a large glass jar, about three-fourths full of a dark red liquid, generating a particularly poisonous stench. A cork stopper was jammed on the top, the rim sealed with candle wax. A peeling brown label was fixed on the side, and "Dragon's Blood" was written on it, in an extremely untidy scrawl. Finally, there was a single piece of parchment, a letter.
An emerald, high-backed chair rested in front of the empty fireplace. Sitting in the chair, with his chin propped up on his hands, was the pale form of Lord Voldemort.
He slowly stretched up from the chair, displaying the same feline grace that passed itself through the Malfoy genes, and which Ginny fervently wished to acquire. He slithered over to the table, and picked up the parchment, once again scanning its contents.
Your Graciousness,
I have come into contact with a person at Hogwarts who wishes to become a part of our royal order. This person in question, Virginia Weasley, says she devoutly believes in the cause, even if her family connections would suggest otherwise. She requests to meet you at the next convenient time, preferably over the Christmas holidays. With your permission, we would like to be able to arrange for her to visit the manor over break, and to meet with you then. She is very eager and devoutly wishes that you will comply.
Your Faithful Servant,
Draco Lucifer Malfoy
Lord Voldemort raised his pale eyebrows thoughtfully, and slowly a wicked grin spread across his face.
Yes, my little Ginny. I know she is firm in her convictions; I saw to that matter years ago. She will prove to be an irreplaceable member of my legions.
Irreplaceable, yes, for she would do anything her Tom told her to do, without the slightest doubt. However, that proved to be a problem. The Lord Voldemort that existed now was a lot different in appearance than the young Tom Riddle that she had fallen in love with in the Chamber of Secrets. In order for Ginny to trust him, he could not look like the reptile he was now. That problem would be taken care of shortly.
Voldemort folded the letter, and placed it on the table, deciding to write a reply after his experiences tonight. He then picked up Slytherin's book, and flipped through the worm-eaten pages, until he found what he was looking for.
'Youth Regeneration Potion' was inscribed in a precise, almost musical handwriting. To restore the image of one's youth, one must drink the potion specified below, which shall contain three hairs of that same person. The drinker's body will return to whatever age he was when the hairs were plucked, but shall remain in the present time. Extreme caution should be used when administering this potion, because its effects are permanent.
Voldemort smiled. This was exactly the potion he needed to get the trust of the Weasley girl, and have a valuable insider into the workings of the so-called 'Light Alliance.'
With a lazy flick of his wand, he summoned a cauldron above the empty fireplace. With another flick, small blue flames flared up, and twisted themselves around the cauldron in a deadly embrace. After referring to the book, Voldemort proceeded to open the phials and pour the ingredients.
First the red one, which left a stench like burnt apples, and the blue one, which sent steam flying into the air when it was released. The yellow one, black one, and orange one were dashed into the cauldron, and were followed by the green one and one that was bright silver. Finally, aqua, maroon, and hot pink were added to the mixture.
The potion was now bubbling a muddy, squelching brown. Voldemort's serpentine lips curled into a contemptuous smirk.
"Perfect."
He picked up the envelope of hairs, and carelessly tossed three of them into the potion. The hovered a second on the surface, then disappeared, absorbed by the various chemicals. The hairs were most important, as they would determine his age. Naturally, Voldemort had saved a few long hairs from his earlier years. Most notably, when he was sixteen.
He selected two long, scarlet-and-gold phoenix feathers from off the desk. He daintily dropped them into the cauldron, where they sat on top of the mixture for just a moment, then sunk slowly, as if they weighed as much as bludgers. The potion seemed to suck the very color out of them, for after they had sunken below the surface, swirls of ruby and gold swam in the brown.
After giving the cauldron two good stirs, widdershins, with his wand, Voldemort picked up the large jar marked 'Dragon's Blood.' He scratched the wax seal off from around the rim and cork, and proceeded to twist it out, a difficult feat, even for the greatest Dark Lord who ever lived.
After finally getting the jar open, he poured the entire thing, all three- fourth's worth, into the cauldron. The mixture immediately began to boil haphazardly, and sending shoots of steam into the air. Dragon's blood, as most people are wont to tell you, is a highly potent potion ingredient, and usually used as a catalyst for chemical reactions. The only problem with this was because it was highly potent; it would kill a full-grown wizard if it touched them. It acted as an acid would, and could bore holes through flesh and bone. The only difference between dragon's blood and actual acid is that, unlike acid, dragon's blood would spread, and eat away at parts of you that hadn't actually been spilled on.
Needless to say, Lord Voldemort was very careful.
After waiting for about ten minutes, the potion was finally ready. It had changed colors once again, now slightly glowing a bright turquoise. Voldemort picked up a goblet from the mantel above the fireplace. It was silver, with the Malfoy family crest wrought upon it. Snakes and dragons twisted around one another, running up and down the sides and around the rim, making one giant mass of jeweled teeth and eyes.
Muttering some unintelligible words, and flicking his wand, he sent some of the liquid into the goblet. Taking a deep breath, he tilted his head back, and drained the cup.
He staggered. The potion burned inside him, scalding his mouth and his throat, and made him double over in pain. He lurched over to the long table, and grabbed the side of it, so as not to fall down. It was even worse than taking Polyjuice. His winced as he felt each and every hair force itself out of his skin, the jet-black that he remembered from so long ago. He felt his fingers shrink, his skin turn back to tan, and his body compress itself, folding over and back into his sixteen-year-old's height.
After what seemed like hours of torture, the potion's effects were almost over. Then, in one sharp, brief, yet beautiful burst of agony of the utmost pain, it was over.
Voldemort took deep shaking breaths, still clinging to the table. Finally, he managed to control himself. Groaning slightly, he stood, his robes hanging loosely around him. He picked up the silver mirror from the table, and looked into it.
He gasped, and his eyes widened in surprise. The potion had indeed worked, for there was a sixteen-year-old staring back at him from the glass. Raven locks of hair fell messily about his face, and quizzical eyes looked at him. Voldemort smiled evilly, and the boy in the mirror did the same.
"Hello Tom."
So, did ya like it? I hope so. I don't think it's longer than normal, but if it is, it's only by a hundred or so words. But see! I got this one out faster too!
Thanks . . .
Nirejseki (Cymbals, eh? I'm flattered!) Dazma (See, here he is, Tom! And restored to his former sexy self ;p) Princess of Mordor (Thanks!) LaughingGasGirl (Thank you!) Lady of the Ring (Thanks!) Fay Elf (I can't wait to see what happens when they meet too! I suppose I should figure that out soon.) skyblupink (I know, I'm sorry! Damn family vaction!) Jen (Thank you!) Solo (Since you read it yesterday, then this chapter *is* soon. Hooray!) Caroline X (Not really long, but full of Tom, yes!) Archer (I hope it doesn't deteriorate either. That would suck. But anyway, thank you! I love Slytherins too. Ginny should have been one. Well, post-Tom Ginny. But then she couldn't give any info away about the Gryffin—uh, I should be quiet before I reveal too much of the plot. But you'll probably make some good guesses about what will happen anyway.)
Once again, thank all of you. I have 54 reviews! RAPTURE! That's the most I've gotten for a story (besides Ginny's Revenge—ugh, that one is HORRIBLE!). Anyway, thank you guys! And thank you, Archer, for my cookie!
This chapter's for Dazma, because I was afraid she'd hurt me if I didn't put Tom in soon.
DISCLAIMER: The Harry Potter Universe is the property of JK Rowling and Scholastic books, plus other companies not named here.
A dreary rain pattered against the windows of an old tower, located high above Malfoy Manor. A single lantern lit in the room cast shadows on the walls that danced to the music of an unheard song. A long table stood against a wall on the far side of the tower, and on it laid a variety of interesting things. There were several scarlet phoenix feathers, and an envelope containing several dark, glossy hairs. An old leather book, the musty cover stamped in gold, reading "Property of Salazar Slytherin." A small iron-wrought mirror, with serpents swarming and twisting around the glass, the emerald eyes staring out at the user, and baring their silver fangs, lay between about ten small phials, all filled with potion ingredients in colors of pus-yellow, bile green and venomous red. There was a large glass jar, about three-fourths full of a dark red liquid, generating a particularly poisonous stench. A cork stopper was jammed on the top, the rim sealed with candle wax. A peeling brown label was fixed on the side, and "Dragon's Blood" was written on it, in an extremely untidy scrawl. Finally, there was a single piece of parchment, a letter.
An emerald, high-backed chair rested in front of the empty fireplace. Sitting in the chair, with his chin propped up on his hands, was the pale form of Lord Voldemort.
He slowly stretched up from the chair, displaying the same feline grace that passed itself through the Malfoy genes, and which Ginny fervently wished to acquire. He slithered over to the table, and picked up the parchment, once again scanning its contents.
Your Graciousness,
I have come into contact with a person at Hogwarts who wishes to become a part of our royal order. This person in question, Virginia Weasley, says she devoutly believes in the cause, even if her family connections would suggest otherwise. She requests to meet you at the next convenient time, preferably over the Christmas holidays. With your permission, we would like to be able to arrange for her to visit the manor over break, and to meet with you then. She is very eager and devoutly wishes that you will comply.
Your Faithful Servant,
Draco Lucifer Malfoy
Lord Voldemort raised his pale eyebrows thoughtfully, and slowly a wicked grin spread across his face.
Yes, my little Ginny. I know she is firm in her convictions; I saw to that matter years ago. She will prove to be an irreplaceable member of my legions.
Irreplaceable, yes, for she would do anything her Tom told her to do, without the slightest doubt. However, that proved to be a problem. The Lord Voldemort that existed now was a lot different in appearance than the young Tom Riddle that she had fallen in love with in the Chamber of Secrets. In order for Ginny to trust him, he could not look like the reptile he was now. That problem would be taken care of shortly.
Voldemort folded the letter, and placed it on the table, deciding to write a reply after his experiences tonight. He then picked up Slytherin's book, and flipped through the worm-eaten pages, until he found what he was looking for.
'Youth Regeneration Potion' was inscribed in a precise, almost musical handwriting. To restore the image of one's youth, one must drink the potion specified below, which shall contain three hairs of that same person. The drinker's body will return to whatever age he was when the hairs were plucked, but shall remain in the present time. Extreme caution should be used when administering this potion, because its effects are permanent.
Voldemort smiled. This was exactly the potion he needed to get the trust of the Weasley girl, and have a valuable insider into the workings of the so-called 'Light Alliance.'
With a lazy flick of his wand, he summoned a cauldron above the empty fireplace. With another flick, small blue flames flared up, and twisted themselves around the cauldron in a deadly embrace. After referring to the book, Voldemort proceeded to open the phials and pour the ingredients.
First the red one, which left a stench like burnt apples, and the blue one, which sent steam flying into the air when it was released. The yellow one, black one, and orange one were dashed into the cauldron, and were followed by the green one and one that was bright silver. Finally, aqua, maroon, and hot pink were added to the mixture.
The potion was now bubbling a muddy, squelching brown. Voldemort's serpentine lips curled into a contemptuous smirk.
"Perfect."
He picked up the envelope of hairs, and carelessly tossed three of them into the potion. The hovered a second on the surface, then disappeared, absorbed by the various chemicals. The hairs were most important, as they would determine his age. Naturally, Voldemort had saved a few long hairs from his earlier years. Most notably, when he was sixteen.
He selected two long, scarlet-and-gold phoenix feathers from off the desk. He daintily dropped them into the cauldron, where they sat on top of the mixture for just a moment, then sunk slowly, as if they weighed as much as bludgers. The potion seemed to suck the very color out of them, for after they had sunken below the surface, swirls of ruby and gold swam in the brown.
After giving the cauldron two good stirs, widdershins, with his wand, Voldemort picked up the large jar marked 'Dragon's Blood.' He scratched the wax seal off from around the rim and cork, and proceeded to twist it out, a difficult feat, even for the greatest Dark Lord who ever lived.
After finally getting the jar open, he poured the entire thing, all three- fourth's worth, into the cauldron. The mixture immediately began to boil haphazardly, and sending shoots of steam into the air. Dragon's blood, as most people are wont to tell you, is a highly potent potion ingredient, and usually used as a catalyst for chemical reactions. The only problem with this was because it was highly potent; it would kill a full-grown wizard if it touched them. It acted as an acid would, and could bore holes through flesh and bone. The only difference between dragon's blood and actual acid is that, unlike acid, dragon's blood would spread, and eat away at parts of you that hadn't actually been spilled on.
Needless to say, Lord Voldemort was very careful.
After waiting for about ten minutes, the potion was finally ready. It had changed colors once again, now slightly glowing a bright turquoise. Voldemort picked up a goblet from the mantel above the fireplace. It was silver, with the Malfoy family crest wrought upon it. Snakes and dragons twisted around one another, running up and down the sides and around the rim, making one giant mass of jeweled teeth and eyes.
Muttering some unintelligible words, and flicking his wand, he sent some of the liquid into the goblet. Taking a deep breath, he tilted his head back, and drained the cup.
He staggered. The potion burned inside him, scalding his mouth and his throat, and made him double over in pain. He lurched over to the long table, and grabbed the side of it, so as not to fall down. It was even worse than taking Polyjuice. His winced as he felt each and every hair force itself out of his skin, the jet-black that he remembered from so long ago. He felt his fingers shrink, his skin turn back to tan, and his body compress itself, folding over and back into his sixteen-year-old's height.
After what seemed like hours of torture, the potion's effects were almost over. Then, in one sharp, brief, yet beautiful burst of agony of the utmost pain, it was over.
Voldemort took deep shaking breaths, still clinging to the table. Finally, he managed to control himself. Groaning slightly, he stood, his robes hanging loosely around him. He picked up the silver mirror from the table, and looked into it.
He gasped, and his eyes widened in surprise. The potion had indeed worked, for there was a sixteen-year-old staring back at him from the glass. Raven locks of hair fell messily about his face, and quizzical eyes looked at him. Voldemort smiled evilly, and the boy in the mirror did the same.
"Hello Tom."
So, did ya like it? I hope so. I don't think it's longer than normal, but if it is, it's only by a hundred or so words. But see! I got this one out faster too!
Thanks . . .
Nirejseki (Cymbals, eh? I'm flattered!) Dazma (See, here he is, Tom! And restored to his former sexy self ;p) Princess of Mordor (Thanks!) LaughingGasGirl (Thank you!) Lady of the Ring (Thanks!) Fay Elf (I can't wait to see what happens when they meet too! I suppose I should figure that out soon.) skyblupink (I know, I'm sorry! Damn family vaction!) Jen (Thank you!) Solo (Since you read it yesterday, then this chapter *is* soon. Hooray!) Caroline X (Not really long, but full of Tom, yes!) Archer (I hope it doesn't deteriorate either. That would suck. But anyway, thank you! I love Slytherins too. Ginny should have been one. Well, post-Tom Ginny. But then she couldn't give any info away about the Gryffin—uh, I should be quiet before I reveal too much of the plot. But you'll probably make some good guesses about what will happen anyway.)
Once again, thank all of you. I have 54 reviews! RAPTURE! That's the most I've gotten for a story (besides Ginny's Revenge—ugh, that one is HORRIBLE!). Anyway, thank you guys! And thank you, Archer, for my cookie!