Such Devilish Things Exist
by Maeglin Yedi
Pairing: Riddle/Malfoy Rating: PG-13 Disclaimer: Not mine. Never were. Never will be. JK Rowling owns them all. Archive: Feedback: most welcome, maeglin.yedi @ lycos.nl
Summary: A visit to the Hog's Head leads to the most important decision in Tom Riddle's life.
A/N: Third story in my Tom Riddle Series, exploring the life of young Tom Riddle and how he became Lord Voldemort. This series contains (implied) slash between Riddle and Malfoy (And yes, that would be Lucius Malfoy's father).
Big thanks to Nimori for looking it over!
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"I couldn't find anything about him in the library. Not a single reference to Grindelwald," Tom said, leaning closer to Malfoy while eying the many students around them suspiciously.
"It's not his real name. My father said no one knows his real name. He just calls himself Grindelwald," Malfoy replied softly.
"He just fancied himself a new name?" Tom looked at Malfoy, a frown tugging on his brow. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."
Malfoy shrugged. "Yes. Well. It's his ideas that matter. Not his name."
"Still. Makes you wonder what he's got to hide, doesn't it?" Tom slowed his pace, grabbing Malfoy's sleeve. Both looked around Hogsmeade's busy main street before taking a right turn to the narrow road that led to the Hog's Head. They weren't the only ones going in that direction; more students, mostly from their house, were heading for the obscure inn everyone normally avoided.
"I don't think most wizards care if he's hiding something, as long as he keeps telling them what they want to hear. And Grindelwald does exactly that," Malfoy said in a hushed voice to make sure their conversation stayed private. "He's got a lot of supporters amongst the pureblood families, my father says. But he only recruits young wizards. Students, like us."
Tom kept silent for a moment, pondering Malfoy's words. He had heard a lot about Grindelwald. It was hard not to when every student in his house talked about him as if he was the best thing that had happened to the wizarding world since Salazar Slytherin himself.
At first, Tom had distanced himself from those commends. It had reminded him a bit too much of Pastor Hughes preaching about the messiah every Sunday morning in Abbey Home. Tom had always thought it to be a load of codswallop, one person saving an entire world. But when even Malfoy had started to mention Grindelwald in their conversations, Tom tried to see what all the other Slytherins saw in him. And when word came that Grindelwald would visit Hogsmeade, to lecture and to recruit, Tom had to admit that he was at least curious, so he'd agreed to come along with Malfoy.
As they reached the Hog's Head, however, Tom got the distinct feeling that he wasn't supposed to be there. Grindelwald preached of purity, and Tom was anything but pure. He pushed those thoughts away, angry at himself for thinking them. He didn't have to be pure. He was Slytherin's heir, after all.
Malfoy gave him a smile, and pushed the door open. The inn smelled of old tobacco and stale beer, and looked as if it hadn't been cleaned since the last century. Tom wrinkled his nose, but followed Malfoy inside anyway.
The bartender took one look at them, and pointed at a well-hidden door in the left corner. They followed a couple of other students into a large room, lit by at least a dozen chandeliers and crowded with students, a mass of Hogwarts robes with the odd adult standing out.
"Here's a good spot," Malfoy said, and tugged on Tom's sleeve. They stepped up to the side of the room, worming their way through the crowd, and stopped when they could get a good look at the front of the room.
"So that's him then," Tom whispered, nodding his head to the tall man with wild brown hair and a long beard talking to a few students.
Malfoy looked around a third year Slytherin in front of them. "I'd say so."
Tom glanced around, nodding his head a few times in recognition. An odd atmosphere clouded the room. One of equal-mindness and excitement, and it was a complete new experience for Tom. It seemed to tingle his skin and wrap itself around his insides; the idea of being with so many others who all had the same ideals.
"The Muggle world is at war," a deep voice boomed between the bare walls, and Tom turned to see Grindelwald giving them all a narrow-eyed stare. "Muggle Europe is purifying itself, and this is the time for the wizarding world to do the same."
Grindelwald spoke with an odd Eastern-European accent Tom couldn't quite place. Crossing his arms, Tom leaned one shoulder against the wall, gaze fixed on the imposing wizard and listening carefully as the man continued to speak.
"Muggles dirty our blood, weaken our kin. It is time to give the name of wizard back to those who deserve it!"
Approving murmurs could be heard throughout the crowd, and Malfoy turned to give Tom a smile, but Tom didn't return it. There was something not quite right about Grindelwald, although Tom couldn't point out what it was.
"There are Muggles rising to power now, who share our views. To rid this world of those weaker than us. To rid it of the Untermensch." Grindelwald held a dramatic pause, and Tom resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "They believe, just as we do, in complete segregation. Therefore it is now time to collaborate, to let them aid us in purifying ourselves."
"Is he actually talking about collaborating with Muggles? That's insane," Tom whispered to Malfoy, who looked at him with a confused frown.
"Did you say something, boy?" Grindelwald said, and when Tom turned his head again, he saw that Grindelwald was looking at him.
"I was making a comment to my friend," Tom said, raising his chin just a bit.
"Why don't you come here, and make that comment to all of us." Grindelwald's lips twisted up in a sneer, shadowed by his full beard.
Tom felt his heart pound against the inside of his chest, but he refused to let anyone put him down. That was a vow he had made two years ago, when he had learned whose blood he carried. He pushed his way past a few students until he stood face to face with Grindelwald.
"How old are you, child?" Grindelwald looked him up and down.
"I'm fifteen."
"A bit skinny for your age then. What's your name?"
"Tom Riddle." Holding Grindelwald's gaze, Tom made sure his voice was steady and his glare narrowed.
"And what were you saying just now?"
"I said it is insane to collaborate with Muggles."
The crowd erupted in loud murmurs, and Grindelwald raised a hand to silence them. "Did you now?"
"Yes, I did," Tom said, and half-turned so he could look at his fellow students. "How many Muggles do you all know? Have you ever even met one? I happen to know quite a few, and they're untrustworthy, the lot of them."
More talk amongst the crowd, louder now, and again Grindelwald silenced them with a simple gesture.
"What did you say your name was, boy? Riddle?"
Tom gave a silent nod, clenching his hands into fists beside his body.
"That's not a wizarding name, now is it? Who are your parents, child?" Grindelwald gave him a smug grin.
"Who are yours?" Tom countered with an equally smug expression on his face.
Grindelwald's dark eyes narrowed, but he ignored Tom's question. "Riddle sounds like a Muggle name to me. Are you a mudblood, boy? Is that why you know so many of them? Do they taint your blood?"
"My blood leads all the way back to Salazar Slytherin himself," Tom said quickly, his shoulders stiffening. "That's all that matters."
Grindelwald let out a loud, mocking laugh. "It matters not when you are tainted, boy."
Tom felt his cheeks heat, the nails of his fingers digging into his palms. "If you despise Muggles so much, you shouldn't be working with them. They will betray you," he said straight to Grindelwald's face, and then turned to the crowd again. "They will betray you all, as they have done to our kind for centuries. Your goal should be to fight them, to conquer them, not to collaborate with them."
"You have a lot to learn still, boy," Grindelwald said, but Tom ignored him, pushing his way through the whispering students, a wall of black robes, green and silver crests and unwelcome memories that flooded his mind. He had heard enough, more than enough, and he didn't stop walking until the door of the Hog's Head slammed shut behind him.
His head suddenly light and his gaze unfocused, Tom gasped for breath and rested his hands on his knees, desperately trying to steady himself.
"Riddle, wait!"
The door behind him slammed shut again, and a warm hand touched his lower back.
"Are you all right?"
Tom shook Malfoy off and straightened himself. "I'm fine. You didn't have to follow me out, you know."
"I know," Malfoy said, shrugging. "But you made a good point. Besides, my father would kill me if he found out I was collaborating with Muggles." He gave Tom a small smile, which Tom tried to return, feeling an odd warm sensation somewhere deep in his stomach.
"Come on. I want to stop by Honeydukes on our way back." Malfoy nudged his shoulder against Tom's once, and without looking back, Tom followed his friend.
The distinct aroma of hundreds of sweets still made Tom's mouth water as they entered Honeydukes and it still made him feel as if this was the first time he'd ever set foot in the shop.
So many sweets, and he couldn't buy a single piece of it. Seeing that he was an orphan, there was no one in this world to give him an allowance.
Tom pushed back the faint feeling of envy as he watched Malfoy pile sweets onto the counter. Sugar Quills, Licorice Wands, Pumpkin Pasties and Chocolate Frogs. Tom narrowed his eyes. Malfoy didn't like Chocolate Frogs, but he did know that it was Tom's favorite.
"I don't need your charity," he whispered to Malfoy as he stepped closer to his friend.
Malfoy gave him a blank look. "You can do my Charms homework then, and I'll pay you with chocolate. How's that?"
Tom snorted, but didn't object.
After Malfoy paid and grabbed the bag chockfull of sweets, they left the shop and strolled through Hogsmeade, back into the direction of Hogwarts. Malfoy reached inside his bag, handed a Chocolate Frog to Tom and selected a Pumpkin Pasty for himself.
"You're awfully quiet," Malfoy said in between bites.
Tom swallowed the last of the chocolate and studied the card in his hand. He already had three Cliodnas, but they made good trading material, so he tucked it into his robes carefully.
"Grindelwald is an idiot," he finally replied, sucking the chocolate off his fingers.
Malfoy chuckled. "Yes, I think we've established that already."
"He dares to call my blood tainted, while we know nothing about his blood! He could be a mudblood, for all we know."
Humming his agreement, Malfoy looked thoughtful.
"And this whole plan of collaborating with Muggles," Tom continued, gesturing frantically with his hands. "You can't trust a Muggle. But all these purebloods don't know what Muggles are like, so they'll just blindly follow him to their deaths."
"Perhaps someone should stand up and explain to us purebloods about Muggles," Malfoy said quietly.
Tom stopped walking and turned to look at his friend. "What do you mean?"
"You're the heir of Slytherin, Tom. If there's anyone fit to purify our kind, it's you."
"But you heard Grindelwald," Tom snarled. "I'm tainted, no matter I have Slytherin's blood flowing through my veins."
"Oh, bollocks." Malfoy waved Tom's reply away. "No one has to know that. The only thing the world has to know is that you are Slytherin's heir."
Tom opened his mouth to say something, but found himself at a loss for words. Malfoy had a point, he realized. Malfoy had a very good point.
"Good afternoon, boys. Out for a walk?"
Tom and Malfoy turned towards that voice and saw Professor Dumbledore smiling at them.
"Hogsmeade," Tom replied stiffly. He didn't like Dumbledore. There was something about that man that made Tom's skin crawl, no matter how many friendly smiles Dumbledore sent his way.
"Ah, yes," Dumbledore said, running a hand down his brown beard. Then he looked directly into Tom's eyes, and Tom had to restrain himself from taking a step back. "And did you find anything of interest in Hogsmeade today, Mr Riddle?"
Tom held Dumbledore's gaze, even though it felt as if Dumbledore's blue eyes pierced right into his mind. "No, nothing," he said in an even voice.
"Except for this," Malfoy said, holding up his bag of sweets.
"Honeydukes," Dumbledore chirped. "I was just on my way there. I've run out of sherbet lemons. You two have a good day."
And with that, Dumbledore turned and walked away. Tom and Malfoy watched silently until their Transfiguration professor was out of sight, and then continued down the path leading back to Hogwarts, Malfoy munching on another Pumpkin Pasty and Tom deep in thought.
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Tom looked intently at all the stray letters on the piece of parchment in front of him.
In the end, it hadn't been a hard decision to make. He was a freak in one world, and a half-blood in the other, and unless he did something about that, it would always stay that way.
Letters swirled as he flicked his wand, and new words were formed. Tom tilted his head, squinting his eyes to make them all out in the flickering light of the candle on his desk.
Behind him, he heard Malfoy get up from his bed and pad to the bathroom, but Tom didn't look up.
This could very well be it.
"It's two in the morning," Malfoy told him quietly, stepping up to him. "Go to bed."
"In a minute," Tom whispered. "I'm almost done."
Malfoy leaned closer, his chin resting on Tom's shoulder, and Tom felt him smile against the side of his face.
"I like that," Malfoy said.
"Me too." Tom traced a finger over the words, and underlined them twice.
"Come on then." Malfoy briefly nuzzled his neck and pulled back. "How about I let Lord Voldemort take my pyjamas off and fuck me hard?"
Pushing himself up, Tom smirked at Malfoy. "I like that."
~~fin~~
Pairing: Riddle/Malfoy Rating: PG-13 Disclaimer: Not mine. Never were. Never will be. JK Rowling owns them all. Archive: Feedback: most welcome, maeglin.yedi @ lycos.nl
Summary: A visit to the Hog's Head leads to the most important decision in Tom Riddle's life.
A/N: Third story in my Tom Riddle Series, exploring the life of young Tom Riddle and how he became Lord Voldemort. This series contains (implied) slash between Riddle and Malfoy (And yes, that would be Lucius Malfoy's father).
Big thanks to Nimori for looking it over!
------------
"I couldn't find anything about him in the library. Not a single reference to Grindelwald," Tom said, leaning closer to Malfoy while eying the many students around them suspiciously.
"It's not his real name. My father said no one knows his real name. He just calls himself Grindelwald," Malfoy replied softly.
"He just fancied himself a new name?" Tom looked at Malfoy, a frown tugging on his brow. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."
Malfoy shrugged. "Yes. Well. It's his ideas that matter. Not his name."
"Still. Makes you wonder what he's got to hide, doesn't it?" Tom slowed his pace, grabbing Malfoy's sleeve. Both looked around Hogsmeade's busy main street before taking a right turn to the narrow road that led to the Hog's Head. They weren't the only ones going in that direction; more students, mostly from their house, were heading for the obscure inn everyone normally avoided.
"I don't think most wizards care if he's hiding something, as long as he keeps telling them what they want to hear. And Grindelwald does exactly that," Malfoy said in a hushed voice to make sure their conversation stayed private. "He's got a lot of supporters amongst the pureblood families, my father says. But he only recruits young wizards. Students, like us."
Tom kept silent for a moment, pondering Malfoy's words. He had heard a lot about Grindelwald. It was hard not to when every student in his house talked about him as if he was the best thing that had happened to the wizarding world since Salazar Slytherin himself.
At first, Tom had distanced himself from those commends. It had reminded him a bit too much of Pastor Hughes preaching about the messiah every Sunday morning in Abbey Home. Tom had always thought it to be a load of codswallop, one person saving an entire world. But when even Malfoy had started to mention Grindelwald in their conversations, Tom tried to see what all the other Slytherins saw in him. And when word came that Grindelwald would visit Hogsmeade, to lecture and to recruit, Tom had to admit that he was at least curious, so he'd agreed to come along with Malfoy.
As they reached the Hog's Head, however, Tom got the distinct feeling that he wasn't supposed to be there. Grindelwald preached of purity, and Tom was anything but pure. He pushed those thoughts away, angry at himself for thinking them. He didn't have to be pure. He was Slytherin's heir, after all.
Malfoy gave him a smile, and pushed the door open. The inn smelled of old tobacco and stale beer, and looked as if it hadn't been cleaned since the last century. Tom wrinkled his nose, but followed Malfoy inside anyway.
The bartender took one look at them, and pointed at a well-hidden door in the left corner. They followed a couple of other students into a large room, lit by at least a dozen chandeliers and crowded with students, a mass of Hogwarts robes with the odd adult standing out.
"Here's a good spot," Malfoy said, and tugged on Tom's sleeve. They stepped up to the side of the room, worming their way through the crowd, and stopped when they could get a good look at the front of the room.
"So that's him then," Tom whispered, nodding his head to the tall man with wild brown hair and a long beard talking to a few students.
Malfoy looked around a third year Slytherin in front of them. "I'd say so."
Tom glanced around, nodding his head a few times in recognition. An odd atmosphere clouded the room. One of equal-mindness and excitement, and it was a complete new experience for Tom. It seemed to tingle his skin and wrap itself around his insides; the idea of being with so many others who all had the same ideals.
"The Muggle world is at war," a deep voice boomed between the bare walls, and Tom turned to see Grindelwald giving them all a narrow-eyed stare. "Muggle Europe is purifying itself, and this is the time for the wizarding world to do the same."
Grindelwald spoke with an odd Eastern-European accent Tom couldn't quite place. Crossing his arms, Tom leaned one shoulder against the wall, gaze fixed on the imposing wizard and listening carefully as the man continued to speak.
"Muggles dirty our blood, weaken our kin. It is time to give the name of wizard back to those who deserve it!"
Approving murmurs could be heard throughout the crowd, and Malfoy turned to give Tom a smile, but Tom didn't return it. There was something not quite right about Grindelwald, although Tom couldn't point out what it was.
"There are Muggles rising to power now, who share our views. To rid this world of those weaker than us. To rid it of the Untermensch." Grindelwald held a dramatic pause, and Tom resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "They believe, just as we do, in complete segregation. Therefore it is now time to collaborate, to let them aid us in purifying ourselves."
"Is he actually talking about collaborating with Muggles? That's insane," Tom whispered to Malfoy, who looked at him with a confused frown.
"Did you say something, boy?" Grindelwald said, and when Tom turned his head again, he saw that Grindelwald was looking at him.
"I was making a comment to my friend," Tom said, raising his chin just a bit.
"Why don't you come here, and make that comment to all of us." Grindelwald's lips twisted up in a sneer, shadowed by his full beard.
Tom felt his heart pound against the inside of his chest, but he refused to let anyone put him down. That was a vow he had made two years ago, when he had learned whose blood he carried. He pushed his way past a few students until he stood face to face with Grindelwald.
"How old are you, child?" Grindelwald looked him up and down.
"I'm fifteen."
"A bit skinny for your age then. What's your name?"
"Tom Riddle." Holding Grindelwald's gaze, Tom made sure his voice was steady and his glare narrowed.
"And what were you saying just now?"
"I said it is insane to collaborate with Muggles."
The crowd erupted in loud murmurs, and Grindelwald raised a hand to silence them. "Did you now?"
"Yes, I did," Tom said, and half-turned so he could look at his fellow students. "How many Muggles do you all know? Have you ever even met one? I happen to know quite a few, and they're untrustworthy, the lot of them."
More talk amongst the crowd, louder now, and again Grindelwald silenced them with a simple gesture.
"What did you say your name was, boy? Riddle?"
Tom gave a silent nod, clenching his hands into fists beside his body.
"That's not a wizarding name, now is it? Who are your parents, child?" Grindelwald gave him a smug grin.
"Who are yours?" Tom countered with an equally smug expression on his face.
Grindelwald's dark eyes narrowed, but he ignored Tom's question. "Riddle sounds like a Muggle name to me. Are you a mudblood, boy? Is that why you know so many of them? Do they taint your blood?"
"My blood leads all the way back to Salazar Slytherin himself," Tom said quickly, his shoulders stiffening. "That's all that matters."
Grindelwald let out a loud, mocking laugh. "It matters not when you are tainted, boy."
Tom felt his cheeks heat, the nails of his fingers digging into his palms. "If you despise Muggles so much, you shouldn't be working with them. They will betray you," he said straight to Grindelwald's face, and then turned to the crowd again. "They will betray you all, as they have done to our kind for centuries. Your goal should be to fight them, to conquer them, not to collaborate with them."
"You have a lot to learn still, boy," Grindelwald said, but Tom ignored him, pushing his way through the whispering students, a wall of black robes, green and silver crests and unwelcome memories that flooded his mind. He had heard enough, more than enough, and he didn't stop walking until the door of the Hog's Head slammed shut behind him.
His head suddenly light and his gaze unfocused, Tom gasped for breath and rested his hands on his knees, desperately trying to steady himself.
"Riddle, wait!"
The door behind him slammed shut again, and a warm hand touched his lower back.
"Are you all right?"
Tom shook Malfoy off and straightened himself. "I'm fine. You didn't have to follow me out, you know."
"I know," Malfoy said, shrugging. "But you made a good point. Besides, my father would kill me if he found out I was collaborating with Muggles." He gave Tom a small smile, which Tom tried to return, feeling an odd warm sensation somewhere deep in his stomach.
"Come on. I want to stop by Honeydukes on our way back." Malfoy nudged his shoulder against Tom's once, and without looking back, Tom followed his friend.
The distinct aroma of hundreds of sweets still made Tom's mouth water as they entered Honeydukes and it still made him feel as if this was the first time he'd ever set foot in the shop.
So many sweets, and he couldn't buy a single piece of it. Seeing that he was an orphan, there was no one in this world to give him an allowance.
Tom pushed back the faint feeling of envy as he watched Malfoy pile sweets onto the counter. Sugar Quills, Licorice Wands, Pumpkin Pasties and Chocolate Frogs. Tom narrowed his eyes. Malfoy didn't like Chocolate Frogs, but he did know that it was Tom's favorite.
"I don't need your charity," he whispered to Malfoy as he stepped closer to his friend.
Malfoy gave him a blank look. "You can do my Charms homework then, and I'll pay you with chocolate. How's that?"
Tom snorted, but didn't object.
After Malfoy paid and grabbed the bag chockfull of sweets, they left the shop and strolled through Hogsmeade, back into the direction of Hogwarts. Malfoy reached inside his bag, handed a Chocolate Frog to Tom and selected a Pumpkin Pasty for himself.
"You're awfully quiet," Malfoy said in between bites.
Tom swallowed the last of the chocolate and studied the card in his hand. He already had three Cliodnas, but they made good trading material, so he tucked it into his robes carefully.
"Grindelwald is an idiot," he finally replied, sucking the chocolate off his fingers.
Malfoy chuckled. "Yes, I think we've established that already."
"He dares to call my blood tainted, while we know nothing about his blood! He could be a mudblood, for all we know."
Humming his agreement, Malfoy looked thoughtful.
"And this whole plan of collaborating with Muggles," Tom continued, gesturing frantically with his hands. "You can't trust a Muggle. But all these purebloods don't know what Muggles are like, so they'll just blindly follow him to their deaths."
"Perhaps someone should stand up and explain to us purebloods about Muggles," Malfoy said quietly.
Tom stopped walking and turned to look at his friend. "What do you mean?"
"You're the heir of Slytherin, Tom. If there's anyone fit to purify our kind, it's you."
"But you heard Grindelwald," Tom snarled. "I'm tainted, no matter I have Slytherin's blood flowing through my veins."
"Oh, bollocks." Malfoy waved Tom's reply away. "No one has to know that. The only thing the world has to know is that you are Slytherin's heir."
Tom opened his mouth to say something, but found himself at a loss for words. Malfoy had a point, he realized. Malfoy had a very good point.
"Good afternoon, boys. Out for a walk?"
Tom and Malfoy turned towards that voice and saw Professor Dumbledore smiling at them.
"Hogsmeade," Tom replied stiffly. He didn't like Dumbledore. There was something about that man that made Tom's skin crawl, no matter how many friendly smiles Dumbledore sent his way.
"Ah, yes," Dumbledore said, running a hand down his brown beard. Then he looked directly into Tom's eyes, and Tom had to restrain himself from taking a step back. "And did you find anything of interest in Hogsmeade today, Mr Riddle?"
Tom held Dumbledore's gaze, even though it felt as if Dumbledore's blue eyes pierced right into his mind. "No, nothing," he said in an even voice.
"Except for this," Malfoy said, holding up his bag of sweets.
"Honeydukes," Dumbledore chirped. "I was just on my way there. I've run out of sherbet lemons. You two have a good day."
And with that, Dumbledore turned and walked away. Tom and Malfoy watched silently until their Transfiguration professor was out of sight, and then continued down the path leading back to Hogwarts, Malfoy munching on another Pumpkin Pasty and Tom deep in thought.
-------------
Tom looked intently at all the stray letters on the piece of parchment in front of him.
In the end, it hadn't been a hard decision to make. He was a freak in one world, and a half-blood in the other, and unless he did something about that, it would always stay that way.
Letters swirled as he flicked his wand, and new words were formed. Tom tilted his head, squinting his eyes to make them all out in the flickering light of the candle on his desk.
Behind him, he heard Malfoy get up from his bed and pad to the bathroom, but Tom didn't look up.
This could very well be it.
"It's two in the morning," Malfoy told him quietly, stepping up to him. "Go to bed."
"In a minute," Tom whispered. "I'm almost done."
Malfoy leaned closer, his chin resting on Tom's shoulder, and Tom felt him smile against the side of his face.
"I like that," Malfoy said.
"Me too." Tom traced a finger over the words, and underlined them twice.
"Come on then." Malfoy briefly nuzzled his neck and pulled back. "How about I let Lord Voldemort take my pyjamas off and fuck me hard?"
Pushing himself up, Tom smirked at Malfoy. "I like that."
~~fin~~