The standard disclaimers apply. Some places, events, characters, etc. depicted in this story are the property of J.K. Rowling.
Tom's Riddle
by John Fragile
Chapter Two: A Letter and a Dirty Riddle
Tom Riddle was very surprised indeed when he woke up the next morning and found out that the happenings in his dream the previous night were not a dream at all. First thing in the morning, Headmaster Duke made an announcement at breakfast.
"Good morning to everyone. I am sorry to have to tell you this, but Otto Odifesta passed away last night due to an acute asthma attack. Had the condition been identified, his death could have been prevented. However, I hope that everything can return to normal as quickly as possible in the midst of this great tragedy. Therefore, I think it would be best if regular lessons continued."
There were numerous groans from the crowd of breakfasters as this last bit of news was given out. Unfortunately for Tom and the other boys, summer was not seen as a time for playing and doing nothing, they were forced to do lessons year round. Tom did not mind so much, however. He was good at schoolwork. With no friends, he had nothing else to do, so he excelled in math, reading, and writing.
Later that day, sitting in math class listening to the teacher go on and on about fractions and decimals, Tom could not help but feel relieved knowing that Otto was no longer around. He knew he should feel guilty for having such an undesirable outlook on the situation, but he could not help himself. Maybe the world is just better off without some people, he mused to himself. After all, aren't people generally more at ease knowing that people who commit the most heinous crimes are put to death (in some countries, at least). What is a human life, if it exists only to bring sadness and hurt to other people?
"Tom," Mrs. Rumbaldi said, "what is the fractional equivalent of zero point five?"
"One half," he replied. He had been monitoring the lecture in the back of his brain while thinking to himself.
"Very good," the teacher replied weakly. Tom knew that she was hoping to catch him off guard. She just wanted an excuse to berate him in front of the whole class. Today, she was not going to have a chance.
He was actually starting to listen to what Mrs. Rumbaldi was saying when an older boy walked into the room. Apparently he had some kind of message for the teacher, who did not seem to notice his arrival, because he kept trying to signal her with his hand. He would raise one finger into the air when he thought she was glancing his way. Mrs. Rumbaldi's peripheral vision must not have been very good because the older boy finally had to say, "Excuse me, Mrs. Rumbaldi." The teacher looked up at him and gave him a look that seemed to ask why he was interrupting her class. "I was asked to bring Tom Riddle to the headmaster's office at once."
Upon hearing his name, Tom's insides felt like they were about to hit the floor. They know about Otto was his first thought. They know I caused his death. He could not keep the vision of himself in prison out of his head. Although, when he imagined prison, it was almost the same as being in the orphanage, except there were bars around the rooms instead of walls.
Mrs. Rumbaldi seemed to consider the older boy for a moment and then gave a slight nod which meant that he was to go with the boy to the headmaster's office. For a moment, Tom thought she would refuse to let him go and he would not be punished.
Mechanically, Tom pushed his chair back, which gave a slight squeak as the legs brushed across the dilapidated linoleum floor, and got up and walked across the room to where the older boy stood waiting. He could feel the thirty or so eyes on his back as he followed him out of the quiet classroom. As the two boys started down the hall, Tom thought he heard someone say, "Oooo! He's in trouble."
"What's this about?" Tom asked the older boy tentatively as they passed the doors on either side of the hallway.
"Duke wouldn't tell me," he replied simply. "But I would imagine that you're in some kind of trouble. Anyone who is summoned to the headmaster's office leaves a short while later."
The two talked no more as they made their way farther down the hall. The sense of dread was welling up inside of Tom as they got closer and closer to the door marked "Headmaster." Would he be arrested? Were there cops waiting inside the headmaster's office to take him away?
These questions were answered as soon as they walked inside of the outer office. It was a pleasant enough room with aqua carpet and several overstuffed chairs along the back wall. A few landscape paintings hung from the walls.
The older boy knocked on the door labeled Headmaster and an abrupt voice said, "Come in," with slight irritation. This was the moment of truth. Hopefully he would be able to eat lunch before they arrested him.
"Tom Riddle is outside, Headmaster," the older boy indicated.
"Send him in," came the reply sounding a bit less aggravated.
Tom approached the door into the headmaster's office with trepidation. Inside, the headmaster was seated behind an old-looking metal desk with papers strewn haphazardly over the surface area. The slightly-balding middle-aged man seated behind it noticed Tom's look of anxiety and motioned him into one of the two folding chairs in front of the desk. "Don't be worried. You're not in trouble." At these seven words, immense relief flooded through Tom. His insides no longer felt like there were going to fall onto the floor. "Thank you, Sid. You can leave now," the headmaster told the boy who had escorted Tom to this office.
"Tom Riddle," Duke said as he considered Tom for a minute. "I've been watching you and I noticed that you are different. You don't mix well with the other boys." Tom did not say anything as this obvious observation leaked from the headmaster's mouth. "Up until today, I just thought you were socially inept or socially retarded somehow," he continued as he gazed at Tom with a look that was difficult to read.
"But I'm not," replied Tom. He finally got enough courage to speak to the headmaster. Tom knew he was different and he knew that he was not socially retarded or inept. He got along fine with Rory. What was the meaning of this, anyway?
"No, you are not," the headmaster conceded. "You have a certain gift that sets you apart from most of your peers. This arrived for you earlier today." The headmaster indicated an envelope addressed to Tom sitting on top of a pile of other papers on the desk. "It's alright; you can look at it," the headmaster said, noticing the hesitation that Tom was feeling.
Tom grabbed the envelope and opened it. It made a slight rustling sound as he ran his finger along the top of the envelope to split it open. Three pieces of paper were inside. It appeared to be some kind of parchment that looked like something from last century. On the first piece of paper the following was written:
Dear Mr. Riddle,
Congratulations, you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed you will find a list of supplies you will need as well as directions to Diagon Alley where you can purchase them. Term starts on September first, hope to see you there.
Sincerely,
Armando Dippet
Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Tom read through this letter several times trying to comprehend what this could mean. He finally asked the headmaster.
"It means, that you're a wizard and you are going to go to school to learn how to use magic," he replied. "We've had several boys come through here in the past who became prominent members of the magical world through their education at Hogwarts."
Tom could not believe this. He was going to learn magic and become a member of the magical world. It must be some kind of elaborate joke that the orphanage staff liked to play. But a quick glance at the headmaster's un-laughing and quite amazed face told him otherwise.
He quickly looked at the other pieces of paper. One was a ticket for the train that would take him to Hogwarts and the other had a long list of items that he would need. He stared wide-eyed at the items that were required: wand, work robes, cauldron, potion kit, were among them. He also needed several books whose titles sounded interesting: The Standard Book of Spells: Grade One, Transfiguration for Beginners, among others.
Tom's happiness lasted only a few minutes. He realized that he would not have the money for the tuition to a magic school, let alone for all of the supplies he would need. A magic wand did not sound like it would be cheap. "But, how am I going to go to Hogwarts?" he asked with a hint of concern in his voice, "I have no money."
"Don't worry about it," replied the headmaster. "It will all be taken care of. I can't give you more details because I don't know them myself, but I was assured that you would be able to attend."
These words did not make Tom feel any less uneasy. Did he get some kind of scholarship or something? Who would want to give him a scholarship? He pushed these details from his mind as the headmaster said, "You can go now, Tom. You will be sent for sometime in the next week so that you can get your school things." He raised his hand and motioned toward the door as he said this.
Tom promptly got up from his folding chair and walked to the door, opened it, and exited the office with a slight smile on his face. He was going to be free of this place, finally, maybe, he put in with an afterthought. For all the hard years spent in the Home, he would be justly compensated by learning magic. Things are starting to go my way, he thought as he journeyed down the corridor back to his math lesson.
However, it turned out that he was slightly wrong about that last thought. As he lay in bed that night in the dark confines of the room he shared with fifteen other boys, he thought he heard a rustling somewhere near the door. He could hardly sleep, he was so excited about the news that he would be leaving the orphanage. September first was only about a month away.
He raised his head slightly to listen better to the noise. In the next instant, a large man was standing right in front of his bed. The man reached out with a long skinny arm and patted him on the head, gently. "Hey, Tom," Rory said in a whisper, not wishing to be heard by the other boys. Tom was relieved it was Rory. He had so much to tell him. He could not wait to share the news of his departure from the orphanage with one of the only friends he had. "I got a riddle for you," Rory continued. "What's long, hard, and full of seamen?"
Tom knew the answer to this and was slightly startled. Rory had never before told Tom any off-color jokes.
"Open your mouth and close your eyes and you'll find out," Rory said in a grunting whisper. As Rory said this, Tom said, "No!" in a somewhat loud whisper. He had heard some of the other boys talking about stuff like this and was not about to be a victim. "You have no choice," Rory said as he grabbed Tom's head.
Tom could not believe this was happening. The fear welled up in him as well as the dormant anger that had subsided since Otto had died. The familiar rage followed and Tom thought about how foul Rory was. All those times he pretended to be a friend, but now Tom knew what he was really after.
With a soft cry of pain, Rory let go of Tom's head and stumbled back a few feet hitting the wall with a dull thud. Immediately, he raced back to Tom's bed and put a hand over his mouth to stop him from calling out, but immediately removed it with another pain-filled cry. Apparently he could not touch Tom without experiencing pain.
"What's going on?" said a sleepy voice from the bed on Tom's left. At this, Rory abruptly ran away. Tom felt relieved as he heard Rory's footsteps die away as he ran down the hall.
"Nothing, Sean," Tom said, hiding his relief that Rory had gone. "I just had nightmare is all." At this, Sean's head made an audible thump as it hit the pillow and the sounds of sleep were soon coming from the bed.
Tom lay awake the whole night, thinking about Rory. What a foul creature, he thought. He thought how Rory was the only one that was ever nice to him. Now that he did not have Rory, he was alone. Better to be alone than to have a friend like that, he thought sourly. Just as he thought things were going to pick up, they had gotten worse. Maybe his life was supposed to be a big disappointment. It was probably his fault that everything bad had happened to him. Then he realized his mistake. It was not his fault. He was a wizard and everyone else here was beneath him. They saw that he was going to be great and powerful one day, and as a result tried to prevent it. They could not deal with the fact that he was better than them, that he was a superior life form.
Those thoughts were the only things that brought him through the next few days as he awaited word from the headmaster concerning when he was to buy his school things. Rory had disappeared, apparently. When questioned at breakfast a few days later, Dolly told Tom that he was taking a long-needed leave of absence. Tom was careful not to show his happiness at these words. After all, they were supposed to be friends. Tom did not want Rory to get fired before he had a chance to have his revenge. Rory could not possibly know how grave a mistake he made when he tried to molest Tom. Tom would not rest until his former friend had paid for his deceit.
"When do you think he'll be back?" Tom asked her, trying to sound as hopeful as possible.
"Probably in a month or two," she replied. "Now go get your breakfast before we run out. Things are a little tight right now."
Tom was not sure if the last bit was just to get rid of him or that Dolly actually cared that he got enough to eat. He strongly suspected the former.
He quickly strode over to stand behind the back of the line waiting for breakfast. He was standing right behind Otto's cronies. Upon seeing him standing there, they quickly turned back around to face the front of the line. Tom thought he detected a somewhat fearful look on their ugly faces. He knew some boys suspected him of causing Otto's death even though such thoughts were completely irrational. Tom alone knew the truth; he did cause it. He was not sorry at all, either. His being a wizard probably had given him the power to kill Otto as well as to drive off Rory. He had worked this out, in his mind, during a particularly boring writing lesson. He had the power, but not the ability to control it. That's where Hogwarts could help him. He was shaking with anticipation for the first day of school.
