Blinded By The Past, Ignored In The Future

Chapter 2

TWO: Many Questions, Few Answers

Disclaimer: I got the idea from the story Everything I know but I changed the plot a lot. If you don't believe me go check it out for yourself. It's by one crimson tie. 

A/N: WARNING: Hint of insanity in this chapter!!!

Response to Reviews:

Taintless: Is it really that good of an idea? Oh thank you! I hope you stick to this story even if it gets a little bad. Suggestions are welcome! 

peacockgal17: I'm glad you thought it was well written. It's not my best, but since I got such lovely reviews so far I'm going to do my best as long as the reviews keep coming! Suggestions are welcome!

RadarPLO: Thank you for reviewing another one of my stories! Hope you stick with this story like you did with my others. I'm working on my grammar so if you find a terrible mistake tell me PLEASE!!! Hope you like the next chapter!

Gothic-neelam: I read you bio and loved it. Perfect attitude! It sounds like me. But I'm trying to learn French…PLEASE DON'T HATE ME!!!

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Previous Chapter: "Headmaster," Pomfrey said, shaking him awake.

He sat up from the very awkward position and looked at Madam Pomfrey with a smile. "Terribly sorry, Poppy. I must have dozed off. Is something the matter?" He asked her and she looked over at Riddle who had begun to stir.

"He's waking up."

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Riddle groaned but didn't attempt to get up from the comfort of whatever bed he was in. It didn't feel like his bed in the Slytherin Dormitory…it felt more soothing and a lot warmer…

His eyes flickered and he managed to lift his hand and put it to his forehead. He hissed in pain from an aching in his arm and let it fall limply to his side as his eyes flickered again. Slowly he forced them open. 

A light shinned straight in his eyes and he shut them quickly, groaning before he opened them again. The blurry figure of a woman-no, a nurse- and an old man stood over him.

"Who?" he asked in a whisper.

"Surly you remember me, my boy," the old man said. Riddle recognized the voice as his Transfiguration teacher's, Albus Dumbledore. But what was he doing standing over him? And who was the woman standing next to him? A million questions flooded his head and he, ignoring the pain in his body, grabbed his head, trying to make them all stop.

"What's wrong, Tom?" came Dumbledore's voice. It sounded so distant…

He ignored the man and rolled over, still clutching his head. To his surprise he fell out of a bed and onto the floor, down to his knees. He threw his head back and yelled at the top of his lungs and he felt two pairs of arms lift him off of his feet, forcing him to lie still on the bed. Thrashing and fighting to get free, he forgot where he was and wanted to get far away from everyone.

His struggles subdued and he looked around desperately as Dumbledore spoke, "Tom? Tom, look at me." Riddle did the exact opposite of what the Professor ordered and looked at the wall. "Tom."

It was unlike Tom Marvolo Riddle to disobey a direct order from a Professor or an elder but he wasn't in the right state of mind. He had just awoken to being in a different place than his Dormitory in the middle of the night and he had no memory of getting there, wherever there was.

Dumbledore spoke again but Riddle couldn't understand what he was saying. Instead his eyes darted around the room, nervously. Everything was fuzzy. He couldn't see anything clearly. His shoulders relaxed a little when he figured out that he was in the hospital wing but he was still extremely tense.

"Tom? For the last time answer me," Dumbledore said, a hint of anger in his voice. Though Riddle was frightened of what Dumbledore would do if he didn't say something, he didn't reply to the teacher; he merely starred at him with his bright turquoise eyes.

"What's wrong?" asked Dumbledore. Riddle said nothing. The Headmaster sighed before repeating. "What is wrong, Tom?"

Riddle starred blankly at Dumbledore, as though he didn't understand what he was asking. When silence fell over the room for a few minutes Dumbledore rubbed his temples before saying, "Mr. Riddle. I know you can understand me. Now tell me and the nurse what is wrong."

Riddle's attention turned to the woman standing next to Dumbledore. "T-The n-nurse? She can be I though Madam-" Dumbledore put a hand up to silence him.

"Please, Tom, spare me your questions for now. I will answer them all shortly. Now I'm going to ask you one more time, what is wrong?"

Riddle looked Dumbledore in the eyes. There was no way he was going to tell the him that he was hearing voices. He wasn't a bleeding heart like the man before him, which made him ask himself why Dumbledore would expect him, the heir of Slytherin, to answer him truthfully?

"I will have my Potion's Master bring me Veritaserum if you will not answer," Dumbledore said calmly. Riddle brows furrowed in anger and he glared at the man. The nurse took a step back but Dumbledore starred right back at him.

"What do you mean your Potion's Mater?" demanded Riddle quietly.

Dumbledore didn't seem to want to answer that but he eventually gave in, "the year, Tom, is 1996. I'm the Hogwart's Headmaster."

Riddle's brow slowly went back to normal. His eyes betrayed the emotions that his face was trained not to.  He seemed scared yet desperate to wake up from a dream-a nightmare-that scared him terribly to the point of wishing to disappear from the face of the earth.

"Tom? Do I have to repeat your name in every sentence to get your attention?"

Riddle's attention returned to the Headmaster, anger overwhelming him. "You." The single word carried so much hate that the nurse flinched.

"Me what?" inquired Dumbledore.

"You did this," Riddle hissed. "It's your fault! How else could I get here?"

Dumbledore, deciding that Riddle had been through enough for the night, took the blame for it and spare him the fact that he knew Riddle was the one who had opened the Chamber and made a diary preserving his memory. "Yes. It is my fault. But I'm afraid nothing can be done about it now. Rest and tomorrow I would like it if you met a few people."

Riddle didn't reply. He didn't trust himself to. How could Dumbledore? Why would he do such a thing?

"He wouldn't…" a voice inside him said. "He's obliviously lying."

No…Riddle argued with himself. Dumbledore may be a lot of things but never a liar…at least he thought so…    

The nurse came over to him, a potion in hand. "Here, dear. I'll help you drink this since you can do it by yourself." She was correct for at some point when they had put him back on the bed they had strapped him down to it. She spoke as she opened the potion and tilted it so he could drink it, "my name is Madam Pomfrey. If you need anything when you wake up let me know."

Riddle nodded as a yawned escaped his mouth and he put his head down on the soft pillow. The last thing he saw was Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore walking through a door and into the nurse's office.          

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Riddle mumbled something to himself as he tried to sit up but found that he couldn't. His stomach dropped when he realized that last night hadn't been a dream; it was real and he was still strapped to the Hospital Wing bed.

He looked around and saw that everything was extremely blurry and he could barley make out the door, leading out of the Hospital. He didn't understand why his vision was horrible. He couldn't even bring his mind to register that it was a problem.

Somehow he managed to move his aching head so he could see out one of the windows. Judging by the how bright the sun shinned, Riddle guessed that it was summer and no students were in the castle, and that suited him just fine. After all he loved the idea of having the library to himself.

He heard a door open and Madam Pomfrey came into view. "I didn't think you'd be awake yet, Mr. Riddle. Are you hungry?"

 Riddle's stomach growled quietly but he answered, "no."

She looked at him carefully, trying to see if he was lying, but nodded all the same. "If you're really not hungry I won't force you to eat." She pulled out another potion from a cabinet and walked over to him. She un-strapped the upper part of his body from the bed so he could sit up weakly and handed him the potion. "Drink," she commanded.

He opened it and gulped it down quickly, ignoring the nasty taste to it. He knew Dumbledore he was going to make Riddle stay in the Hospital Wing until he was certain that he was in perfect condition. 

Deciding that he didn't want to sleep all day he asked, "Madam? May I visit the library and get a few books to read for during my stay here?"

Madam Pomfrey thought about it hard. "I don't know. I would say ask the Headmaster but he's not in the castle at the moment…and I would say no but it will be dreadfully boring for you…so I suppose. But I'm going with you and you'll have to write down the title of any books you decide to borrow."

"Yes, ma'am," he said. She undid the last strap and helped him to his feet. At first his legs were unstable but they eventually got better. Ignoring the pain in his entire body he followed the nurse on the long journey to the school library.

When they arrived she opened the door and held it for him. He walked in and the first thing that he noticed was that many books had been added since his year.

"Hurry up," said Madam Pomfrey. Riddle walked over to the first section and began looking (squinting because he couldn't see well) through the titles for anything that sounded new or remotely interesting.

By the time he reached the eleventh section he still hadn't found anything and he could tell that the nurse was growing impatient from the sound f her taping foot. He began to search faster but when he still couldn't find anything he closed his eyes and just grabbed one then he looked at the title: Who We Are, Past, Present, and Future.

He glanced over at the nurse, saw that she wasn't looking, and tucked it under his robes, knowing that she would never let him read it. What struck him as weird was that the book was classified as Dark Arts and should therefore be in the restricted section.

He went back over to Madam Pomfrey and made up a diversion so she wouldn't notice the book, "Madam, my ankle hurts badly," he lied.

She got an angry look in her eye before saying, "I knew this was a bad idea. I should have made you stay in bed. Letting you walk about to get a book was a bad idea. You didn't even get a book, did you?" He shook his head. "See? You didn't even get what we came for and you hurt yourself."

Riddle smirked secretly at how easily she was distracted and allowed her to help him up to the Hospital Wing so she could heal his ankle. When she was sure that he was a little better she gave him another potion, told him to drink it, and disappeared into her office.

Riddle put the potion under his bed and pulled the book out from under his robes. Once he was convinced she wouldn't come back for a while he opened it and began and too his surprise he could make out the writing so he began reading.

Chapter One-The Past Self-Pg: 5

Chapter Two-The Present Self-190

Chapter Three-The Future Self-360

Without even thinking it over Riddle flipped to the back of the book to read about 'The Future Self'.

The Future Self is more of a prediction than anything else, as it is something that hasn't happened yet, however in special Time-Travel cases it is very likely the person will find out who they will become. If this is the case the person (if he/she finds out) must take a forgetfulness potion of put a memory charm on himself or herself to prevent changing it when they return to the past.

But if you simply wish to-

The book flew out of his hand and he watched as Dumbledore caught it. "Mr. Riddle, you should be sleeping, not reading this." Riddle glared at him, put his head down, and closed his eyes, annoyed that Dumbledore was trying to control him. Was his future self (if he was even still living) that bad?

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A/N: Let's try for 4 reviews again before the next chapter is posted.

Next Chapter Summary: Riddle may find out the answer to his last question and he gets to meet the Order.