I could feel the stone floor underneath my barefeet, cold. Ice cold. Biting softly down on my bottom lip, as to not go through it, I steeled myself for the next step. I was not going to be a weakling. I placed my hand on the dank stone wall. Gently I trailed my hand along it looking for the doorway in the dark. I didn't want to risk any light…

I heard a grunt and footsteps coming from the other direction. Holding my breath I stood up against the wall, hoping that the teacher coming wouldn't walk into me, for all I had an invisibility charm on.

Barely breathing I could hear the footsteps slowly getting closer, vibrating off the empty corridors. Around the corner slowly came Professor Dumbledore. His blue eyes were deeply concentrated on the roll of parchment he held in his hand. A burning desire to kill Dumbledore leapt up and nearly choked me. "Riddle…"

I glanced up from the floor at Dumbledore, "What? But I- How?"

I saw a thin smile from Dumbledore, but his blue eyes were void of the regular twinkle in them, "Tom, don't do it."

I looked at him confused, what was he talking about? "Excuse me sir…?"

Dumbledore sighed, and his face seemed sad, "Tom, please don't go through with it, there are other alternatives. Give me back the book."

My lips unconsciously turning into my sneer I handed over the thick, leather bound book. The book that held much in the way of Dark Arts and spells to change ones features. "Sir."

"Tom, I don't want to find you doing this again, and remember I am keeping an eye on you." Dumbledore then turned the book under his arm and walked back down the passageway, his footsteps getting quieter as they faded away into the distance.

Opening my eyes, I could still feel Dumbledore's penetrating gaze. But Dumbledore was in Hogwarts, not in Albania, I was safe.

A loud crack sounded and urged me to move away from the window, my loyal, or not so loyal death eaters were behind me. "Master," one of them rasped, "We are ready…"

I turned to them, "Are you now?" Two of the death eaters came forward and handed me two falling apart books. After having done that all seven of them prostrated themselves at my feet. I resisted the sudden impulsive urge to kick the one in front of me. I wanted them to be submissive… oh so submissive. "What pages are these spells on?"

One rose and flipped through one of the books pointing out several different spells, "It depends on what you want to look like though master, if you want to look like a bear then the spell differs."

My facial muscles tightened, I was no idiot, I had the best marks in the school. Trust a pesky Ravenclaw to think that they were the whole brains of everything in the world. "Crucio," I said in a cold, indifferent voice as I pointed my wand at him. He began writhing of the ground, shrieking in pain. And all I could do was laugh, cold and high pitched. I wanted to see him squirm on the ground. I wanted him to feel this pain.

All the other death eaters gaped at the sight of me, Lord Voldemort laughing coldly at one of their fellow death eaters. I stopped my laughing and let up on the spell, "Let that be a lesson to you all," I began my voice still cold, and holding all the command in the room, "Never make the mistake of thinking I am stupid. It will be more painful next time."

All the death eaters nodded open-mouthed. Wide eyed stares that were still so innocent. Too innocent, I needed them to be cold, hardened killers. Ones that would kill anyone without question, without thought. And preferably ones that enjoyed inflicting pain on others.

"You know I want to look like a snake, a serpent. Prepare the potions, now," I said this quietly, but they all jumped to attention as if I had threatened them. Good. Now maybe they would be more loyal and submissive. The death eaters began scurrying out of the room, in fact they reminded me of rats.

I turned my attention back to the shattered mirror, and began contemplating my new image. Red eyes, slits, a snake with the palest of white skin. Although my skin had always been pale, it must have had something to do with all that time I spent in dungeons, whether within the orphanage or Hogwarts.

My thoughts slowly drifted back to Dumbledore, he knew, he knew everything. Everything that I had tried so carefully tried to keep secret, fell into his lap when I looked into his eyes. Oh it was time to stop that. Although I had been faraway for many years, sinking deeper and deeper into my twisted soul. Nay, not twisted. Perfect… the perfect soul. The soul that is akin of that to Salazar Slytherin's. Nay, it wasn't perfect either. Because it had muggle blood in it. Muggle feelings, muggle doings. I was worthless.

I had to purge myself… and clean my soul, make it fit for the doings that would occur. I had to be ready for the transformations.