-1A/N: I became dissatisfied with my last story, so I decided to give up on it and go in another direction. This story centers around Tom Riddle, and his third year at Hogwarts. Enjoy!
The Path We Choose
By Lord Malthon
A boy of barely thirteen stood in the library of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Tom Riddle was searching, searching desperately. He knew there had to be at least one book that covered the subject in this entire school. He knew that that fool, Albus Dumbledore, would not want any student learning of these things. Still, Tom had to check. He would not run the risk of sending off for a book on the supremacy of Purebloods over Muggle-borns; surely, the Ministry checked such things, especially with this war going on. With a sigh, he closed the book he had been reading, Wizarding Encyclopedia: P. He turned to leave, but found himself face to face with Avery.
"Hey, Tom; you finished with your Transfiguration homework?" Tom groaned inwardly. He knew where this conversation would lead. Either he would just give the burly boy his homework, or he would be forced into a lengthy argument with the brainless git. He chose the former rather than the latter, considering he was already in a pretty sour mood.
"Yeah, Avery, it's in my bag. Just get it out of there, but make sure you get it back to me before class tomorrow."
"Thanks, man. I just cannot get my head around this animagus stuff." He jogged around the corner to retrieve the parchment he was looking for. Tom rolled his eyes. He knew that he should not encourage that type of laziness in his peers, but it mattered little to Tom. As long as it did not hurt him in any way, Tom could not care less about his classmates' flaws.
As he walked out of the library, he looked to his right and then to his left to see if anyone was around. He found the corridor to be empty; excellent, he thought. This meant that he could try out that new passageway the house-elves had told him about. They could be such helps when called upon. He walked past the portrait of a man dressed in Renaissance-era clothing and took a right.
There it was; third suit of armor from the left. He walked up to the suit of armor and whispered "Fire." The suit nodded, and took a half-step out of the way. Behind the statue was a blank wall with a small knot. Tom pressed the knot with his index finger. The knot grew into a hole, and the hole grew larger and larger, until it was an archway that served as an entrance to a long tunnel. He noticed the numerous symbols on the archway, many of which he recognized as being from Nordic mythology. Tom walked through the entrance just as the wall behind him closed. He walked down the tunnel, which was longer than he had first noticed, until he finally reached what he had been looking for.
The house-elves had not exaggerated. The library itself was quite remarkable. According to the story the house-elves had told him, this was the private collection of the Hogwarts Headmaster, passed down for more than six hundred years. There had to be at least one book in this vast collection that dealt with Pureblood supremacy. He searched the shelves, which were ordered according to date the book was brought there.
Tom reached into his pocket and pulled out the list of old Hogwarts headmasters. Beside each name, he had made a notation of what years they had served and which House they had belonged to in school. He had a star beside the names of all of the Slytherins, since he assumed that no Headmaster from another House would "buy into such garbage," as Professor Dumbledore would say. There was only a handful of Slytherins on the list, so it would not take long to go over all of the stacks. The first one on the list was Stephon Lorenzen: 1412-1422. Tom searched the shelves until he found the section he was looking for under a sign that said "S. Lorenzen." He looked through the documents: there was a section on potions, another on the political problems of the wizarding community in Spain, and an amusing (to Tom, anyway) article on the best bait one should use when Muggle-hunting; but, he could not find any that covered the issue of purity of blood.
About an hour later, he had gone through almost all of the stacks and could not find anything. The last name on the list with a notation beside it was Terrence Foreclove, 1872 to 1880. Tom heaved a sigh. He looked through the stacks, but could not find anything of particular interest. He removed a stack of papers. When he did so, he noticed a small, black book. On the cover of the book was tiny golden script that read "Wizarding Genealogy."" He picked up the book and thumbed through it. As it turned out, however, all of the pages were blank. He must not have ever filled it out then, Tom guessed to himself. Tom would have never suspected that the knowledge in these pages would forever change his life.
Now, tell me what you thought.