Blinded By The Past, Ignored In The Future
Chapter 3
THREE: The Order
Response To Reviewers:
gothic_neelam: Riddle is perfect isn't he? Cute, smart, and…something else…let's just say words can't describe it. Hope you like this chapter!!!
marie: I can't believe how many people like this story! I'm so happy! Thank you for reading/reviewing it means a lot to me!
dolphingirl79: Okay. I'll post and you keep reviewing! I'll try and post soon but I'm going somewhere this Saturday So I'll probably post again on Monday.
RadarPLO: Thanks for the compliments!! It's important to know that people like it!
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Previous Chapter: 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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"…Albus, be reasonable. He's still the Dark Lord no question about it. What will we do with him when school starts again?"
"We will worry about that when the time comes to."
Riddle's turned over so he could hear what the two people were saying better. He knew they were talking about him but not why.
"Yes, Headmaster, I suppose you're right," said a woman's voice. "I'll be in my office until the rest of the Order arrives." He heard a door open then close again followed by footsteps.
"Headmaster?"
"Yes, Poppy?"
"Could you do me a favor and wake Riddle up so he can take this? I would but I'm still a bit angry he was able to trick me earlier." There was a hint of amusement in the nurse's voice.
Before Dumbledore could reply Riddle threw the covers off of himself and said loudly, "You people will never have to move a muscle to wake me up as long as you run your BIG mouths." He starred particularly at the nurse. She glared at him before returning to her office, slamming the door so it almost came right off.
"That wasn't very nice," said Dumbledore sternly.
Riddle put his hands behind his head then sneered at him as he said, "and life moves on."
Dumbledore chose ignored him and handed him a potion. "Drink that before Madam Pomfrey returns."
Riddle took it, unscrewed its lid, and drank it. He coughed and sputtered at the flavor, dropping the bottle. Once he had regained control of his taste buds he asked, "Professor, may I please have the book I was reading back?"
Dumbledore shook his head, "afraid not. From now on I'm going to make sure that any books you get a hold of are thoroughly looked at."
"Why?" Riddle asked. "Can't I have a life of my own? Or is my future self that big of a jerk?" Dumbledore seemed uncomfortable as Riddle voiced the question that haunted his mind.
"I can't tell you, Tom," Dumbledore said after a while.
"Why?" demanded Riddle.
"Because the Order and I have agreed not to say anything to you yet. We may even let you discover it on your own," answered Dumbledore.
"You can't tell me what to do," snapped Riddle. "You're not my-" he stopped, not knowing what he was going to say. "You just can't."
I understand why you're upset," Dumbledore started.
"No, you don't," argued Riddle. "You've never-oh just forget it. Go away!" Riddle threw himself back down on the bed and pulled as much of the covers over him as he could, not wanting to see or talk to Dumbledore ever again.
Dumbledore sighed and pulled a black, leather-bound book out from one of his many pockets. Quietly he laid it down and left the Hospital without a word.
When Riddle heard the door shut he moved the covers from over his head and wiped at his eye. It was a stupid reason to get upset. After all he was a Slytherin and nearly seventeen. Even if he was fifty years in the future without anyway of getting back… and everyone he knew was either dead or way older than him…He sat up so he could burry his head in his knees and not worry about anyone seeing him.
The three rules to live by: never meet the gaze of your superiors, a true man has no weakness, and fools who ware their hearts on their sleeve will wallow in sad memories for eternity.
Even though he had begun to doubt the last one, the other two seemed logical enough. But then even one of the world's best wizards, Dumbledore, has show weakness.
Than maybe so but I don't want to be as good as the man, I want to be better.
"I will be better," he told himself as he looked away from the wall and saw a little black book. Riddle grabbed it and flipped it over, examining it carefully. The book dropped to the floor, making a clatter sound reverberate through the Hospital Wing as he realized what it was.
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Dumbledore walked silently down the hall, no light visible in his light blue eyes as he approached the Great Hall's doors and walked in. At the head table sat members of the Order, talking as they waited for his appearance. He took his place at the head position and waited for the others' attention to turn to him before speaking.
Professor McGonagall, who had arrived there a few minutes earlier, said, "Well, Headmaster, what of You-Know-Who?"
"You may each call him Tom or Mr. Riddle," Dumbledore said. "If we go around calling him all of the nonsense names I daresay we will all be confused." McGonagall nodded. "And as for his well-being…He doesn't seem to remember anything that the Riddle (the one Harry fought) did."
"How could that be though?" Lupin asked aloud. All eyes turned to him and he continued. "Unless the Basilisk fang did more than we think it did…"
Dumbledore nodded before adding, "I believe you're right, Remus. But we don't know for sure. I'll just have to keep talking to him a little at a time."
"Headmaster, we are wasting our time," said Snape, getting up. "I don't care if he is the one who can save the planet from killer griffins he's still the Dark Lord!"
"And I won't tell you that Voldemort isn't," said Dumbledore and Snape flinched at the name, "but I will tell you that Riddle isn't." Snape fell silent and sat down at the table once more, unable to think of a retort. "Anyone else have anything to say before we call this meeting over?"
Lupin stood up, "I do."
"Yes?" Dumbledore said.
"Can we all go see Mr. Riddle? To see if-well you now," Lupin requested.
"You wish to see if you each think that he's safe?" inquired Dumbledore.
"I do," said Lupin. And slowly the other Order members nodded in agreement, not really wanting to admit that they had an interest in the Dark Lord.
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Riddle jumped out of bed, leaving the small book where it had landed and running to the windows.
No one is coming…he thought desperately. No one can stop me…
He opened the window and a breeze carried warm air in, forcing the cold air out. Then without hesitating he grabbed a sheet off of a nearby bed and tied one end around his waist and the other around a leg of a bed.
I have to get out of here, he told himself, just don't look down…He climbed out of the window and froze when he heard the nurse shout, "Mr. Riddle! Get back in here! Get in here! You're acting crazy!"
Riddle ignored her and slowly continued. He felt her grab onto his arm and try to force him back in but he pulled himself out of her grip. He lost his balance when he did so and clutched to the sheet tightly.
"Headmaster! Hurry! He's trying escape through the window!" Madam Pomfrey yelled and he heard people running over to look or rescue him.
Dumbledore peered out and reached down at him, grasping him by the back of his cloak. With power he never would have imagined an old man to have, he pulled Riddle up effortlessly and set him down on the ground. Two men reached down and untied the blanket from around him and helped him back over to his bed.
The man with greasy black hair walked back over to the other people and the man with brown hair stood there, looking at Dumbledore. The nurse was glaring at him and he noticed that almost everyone was.
"Tom," Riddle's head shot automatically to where Dumbledore stood. "What were you doing?"
Riddle pointed to the diary on the floor and said, "it brought me here, didn't it? You lied to me saying you did but I know that stupid thing did! I know it did!" The people in the room turned to Dumbledore, reluctant to take their eyes off of Riddle.
"Yes, I did lie. You're right. Your diary brought you back," said Dumbledore.
"You might have tried the truth," muttered Riddle. He sniffed and looked at the other people. "You guys must be the Order, right?"
"How did you know that?" a stern woman asked.
"I heard Dumbledore talking with someone this morning about the Order coming here and I guessed it was you," Riddle explained.
"Very smart," said a man with flaming red hair. "You're not one to be fooled too easy are you?"
Riddle smirked superiorly. "Nope. Teachers suck at lying."
"Yes, they do," said the man with torn robes. "My name's Remus Lupin. Now I'm aware of your last name but what may your first name be?" Of course he knew already he was just trying to be nice.
"Tom," Riddle told him coolly. He could tell that the man was being extremely nice on purpose, but it still felt good that someone was trying to act like a human.
"Now what were you doing dangling yourself out of the window?" asked Lupin pleasantly, sitting on the bed next to him.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" retorted Riddle.
Lupin's brow furrowed. He blinked and forced himself to stop his mouth from changing into a frown. "Spirited aren't you?"
Riddle smirked and said, "Slytherin spirited."
"Oh goodie," mumbled Lupin, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Riddle was just about to snap at him when a pain hot through his body. He fell off of the bed and yelled, "Make it stop!" A few people looked at him and others were frightened by the outburst.
Riddle fell onto his side and clutched his wrist in pain. It was although his very bones were on fire, burning his insides.
The Cruciatus Curse…He forced himself up, gasping and wiping his bitten, bloody lip on his sleeve. One glance at the Order told him that they believe him to be insane. No longer aware of anything, he fell to his knees and looked at Dumbledore. "What's wrong with me? Why does it hurt?"
Lupin knelt down by him. "Mr. Riddle, no one is doing anything to you."
"Get away from me werewolf!" Riddle hissed. Lupin looked shocked because no one told him that he was a werewolf, but he refused to move.
"Clam down, Tom," said Dumbledore.
"I am calm! Can't you tell?" yelled Riddle, gritting his teeth in pain. Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone pull out his or her wand. Without thinking he got away from the crowd and grabbed at the wand. To his surprise he got it and pointed it straight at the man he stole the wand from.
Dumbledore spoke over the commotion, "put it down. Now."
"NO!" roared Riddle.
He another pain shot thorough him and he dropped the wand. The person who he stole the wand from took advantage of this moment and picked it up.
Riddle hissed in pain and climbed onto his bed. Madam Pomfrey came over and gave him a potion.
Riddle felt as though the potion cleared his mind. Now he was able to think clearly and all the pain was gone. He coughed and saw a man with pale skin reach down and pick up his diary.
His eyes widened as he showed Dumbledore it. Riddle's stomach turned as he saw that through a small rip in the leather cover, red ooze was dripping out as, from Riddle's lip, a drop of blood fell to the ground.
