Chapter Twenty

On Tuesday, before Herbology, Tom stopped Susan Bones on her way to the greenhouse.

"Miss Bones, may I have a moment?" Tom asked, glancing at Abbot and MacMillan with her.

With a huff, she waved them off, expression closed and defenses already high. "What is it?" Clearly, joining the study session in which he'd hit her with more than a dozen stinging hexes hadn't endeared him to her.

"When I graduate, I plan to take over the Ministry," Tom told her bluntly. "There's too much wrong with our world, and I'm not going to sit back and be another person going with the flow and wishing someone else would fix things."

"...And what do you want from me?" Bones asked, crossing her arms across her chest. Now that it had been pointed out to him, he had to admit that she was rather well-endowed for someone her age. What it made him feel, however, was just about the exact opposite of attraction. He neatly kept the revulsion from his face. It wasn't Bones' fault she'd been born with poor genetics.

Coming back to himself before she could ask again, Tom shook his head. "Nothing at the moment. I'm simply letting you know my plans ahead of time so that, if you keep attending the study sessions, you can do so with an eye toward deciding if you'd like to work with me in the future." He smiled. "Obviously, I'd like your help in taking over, but that won't be for a few more years at least."

"Why me?" she asked warily.

"Because you're the most well-known and well-liked Hufflepuff in our year group," Tom replied.

Bones blinked in surprise. No doubt she was much more used to people trying to get close to her for her connection to the DMLE via her aunt. "That's awfully long-term, don't you think?"

Tom sighed and looked into the distance. "I don't want anyone who joins me to regret it." He caught her confused expression and smiled sadly. "That's where Voldemort went wrong, you know. I mean, the ideology was awful, of course, but the reason he failed was because too many of his Death Eaters joined without really understanding who they were allying themselves with." Which he'd been more than happy with at the time, but it did seem to have worked out poorly.

"What do you mean?" Bones asked, frowning. "How could they not know?"

Tom gave her a pitying look. Did she still think that all Death Eaters were psychopaths who just wanted a chance to kill people? How naive. "The people who fought for him in the last war were, for the most part, there under some manner of duress, be it their family pushing them into service or simply feeling that they had no better options. Take Professor Snape. He's bitter and vindictive and petty, but he only joined Voldemort because Dumbledore's people, people like my father, spent seven years tormenting him in school, and his only family was an abusive drunk of a father." Tom felt absolutely no hesitation in sharing Severus' life story with Bones. His only concern was how interesting the man's reaction might be if Bones spread the information. "He certainly didn't know that being a Death Eater involved getting cursed on a regular basis or made to watch young families get massacred. So he regretted it. He had the strength to turn traitor and become a spy, but I can't bring myself to fault people like Lucius Malfoy for not being able to do the same."

Tom shook his head. "I mean, yeah, there's people like the LeStranges, but most of Voldemort's allies denounced him the second they thought he was dead. His cause, if you can call it that, failed because his allies were primarily people who were only there out of fear."

Tom refocused, catching her gaze and holding it. "I don't want that. Naturally, I don't plan on going about things the same way, so much of it really doesn't apply, but I think it's a good lesson regardless. If I for some reason die, I don't want the things I'm fighting for to just… disappear. I want to know that my friends and allies will keep fighting because they believe in the cause, not the leader."

Bones nodded slowly, eyebrows drawn together in thought. "I never thought of it like that," she admitted. "But I think it speaks well of you that you have. Alright. I'll consider it."

Once Bones was gone, Luna stepped out from behind a corner. Tom fought not to show his surprise because he'd never get anything done if he got surprised by every little thing Luna did. "Very idealistic," she said. "I'm surprised you managed it with a straight face."

Tom shrugged. "It's not that far from the truth. My first attempt at takeover failed, partially for those reasons. I have no intention of dying, but otherwise? I intend to make Voldemort's mistakes into stepping stones for my success."

Luna kissed his cheek. "I know, Tom Riddle. Have a good day."

"Luna!" Tom hesitated while the blonde turned back to him curiously. He clenched his fist. He could and would do anything to achieve his goals, he reminded himself. Admitting weakness and asking for help were nothing compared to the possibility of success. "Do you know how I can gain immortality? The method I used before was…. flawed. The other methods I'm aware of are not feasible for a variety of reasons. I -" I need to know I'm safe before I can move forward, he thought, and to his relief, Luna seemed to understand the words he couldn't say.

She cocked her head consideringly. "I don't, but… My mother's family has a ritual for asking for assistance. It feels like that might prove useful." She smiled. "I'll bring a copy of it with me when I return from winter break."

"Thank you," Tom said, and this time he was able to go into the greenhouse feeling marginally less stressed than he'd been recently.

That reduced stress lasted until the following morning, when Educational Decree Number 24 came out, disbanding regular meetings of two or more students.

"I can't stand that - that witch!" Hermione ranted, stalking back and forth within the Room of Requirement. Her hair was even frizzier than usual due to her angrily sparking magic. Each time she passed the couch, her magic gave Tom a small jolt. It didn't precisely hurt, but it was mildly startling. Still, he was too pleased at her anger to care.

Tom smiled slyly. "You could always do something about her." He ignored a sharp pinch on his calf from Ginny, who was spread out on the ground in front of the fire reading a book.

Hermione shot him a glare before continuing her pacing. "Don't think I haven't considered it," she muttered. "I'm surprised you haven't."

Tom gave her his most innocent look. "I have full faith in the curse on the position."

Hermione huffed. "Can't you make it work faster then?" she asked, throwing herself onto the couch beside him. "She's ruining everyone's education!"

Tom twitched. For some reason, Hermione seemed to have less sympathy for his pain than for others'. He supposed it was related to him being a mass murderer, even if he wasn't sure what the one had to do with the other. Other people's morals rarely made sense to him though, so there wasn't much point worrying about it. He sighed. "I'm surprised she hasn't found a way to give me another detention."

"I'm surprised Malfoy hasn't found a way to give you another," Ginny said as she turned a page.

With a grimace, Tom conceded the point. His speech about delegating responsibility had given Umbridge the brilliant idea of creating a sort of junior task force, composed almost entirely of pureblood Slytherins connected to Voldemort. If Tom wasn't entirely certain Voldemort would find her too annoying to let live, he'd have thought she was a Death Eater. Her Inquisitorial Squad had seemingly made it their mission to stalk him. The only way Tom was able to go anywhere now without being followed was with both the Invisibility Cloak and a whole host of concealment charms. It had only been a day, and he was already thoroughly sick of it.

Ginny nudged his foot. "I'll be staying over tonight," she said with a sympathetic smile. "I told my roommates I'm sleeping with you, so they'll cover for me if anyone comes looking."

Tom stared at her for a moment before sighing, unsure what he was feeling. He appreciated the effort to help him relax, but now the giggles following him at breakfast from the fourth-year Gryffindor girls made far more sense, and he rather wished Ginny hadn't enlightened him. By the impish grin forming on her face, she was fully aware of this.

Suddenly a window appeared in the Room. Tom stood, striding over to it with a concerned frown. The Room didn't usually act on its own like this. Before he'd reached it, the window burst open, and Hedwig tumbled in, a torn letter in her talons. Her wing crunched as she hit the floor, and Tom ran the last few steps, scooping her up and casting diagnostic charms one after another. Another second and his eyes narrowed. He aimed out the window and cast a series of detection charms.

"Umbridge," he snarled. He started to turn, then paused, looking at Hedwig. "Damn it," he hissed.

Hermione and Ginny finally made it over. Ginny clapped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide. It didn't look good. Hedwig's breathing was fast and shallow, with a burbling sound that signaled nothing good.

Tom pressed his lips into a thin line. The Room responded to his wishes, and a table appeared in front of him. He laid Hedwig down on it, being careful not to injure her wing farther. "Get Grubbly-Plank," he ordered, not taking his eyes off of the snowy owl's trembling form.

He heard the door slam open and footsteps fading into the distance. "Severus," he muttered, considering the fastest way to bring the Potions Master to him. A door appeared, and Tom strode through it without questioning it. "Protect her," he said to whichever girl remained.

The door let him out next to Severus' rooms, and Tom slashed his wand down, tearing through the man's wards with sheer force.

"What is -" Severus froze at seeing the expression on Tom's face. "Master," he said instead, watching the boy warily.

"Hedwig is dying," he said. "Grubbly-Plank should be on her way. Grab whatever potions you need and follow me."

The man blinked once and nodded. Living in a castle that kept its own stock of post owls, he naturally had an array of useful potions. It was the work of less than a minute to snatch up a bag and fill it with potions that would be safe for an owl to consume. Even so, he barely managed to follow his master through the correct door, catching sight of nothing more than the hem of the boy's robe as he passed through it. He didn't even have time to question the presence of an unknown door near his quarters.

"There," Tom bit out, indicating his owl. There was nothing more he could do. He could heal injuries in theory, but he wasn't as proficient at it as Severus, nor did he possess the knowledge of an owl's anatomy Grubbly-Plank would have. Instead, he turned his attention to the tattered letter on the floor. "Reparo," he cast with a sharp flick of his wand.

The parchment shone and returned to its original form, though it took far more magic than the spell usually required. Tom opened it, expressionless.

Dear Mister Potter,

I am the head of the Australian Center for Unorthodox Research. I am writing to you because the Australian Ministry passed your letter along to us. I am truly sorry to hear about your cousin's fate and can only hope this reply will prove useful to you in some manner.

In regards to your question, though it is difficult to say for certain, our research indicates that yes, a soul consumed by a dementor remains intact within it. Attached are the experiment and its findings in full.

Unfortunately, we've yet to discover any means of retrieving a soul from within a dementor. Should that change, I will of course ensure that information makes its way to you. Please feel free to write with any more questions.

Sincerely,

Priscilla Garter

Head of ACUR

Tom took a deep breath. The aforementioned attached papers were absent, so he could only assume Umbridge had gotten hold of them. Even so, it seemed Potter's soul remained viable. His gaze cut over to Severus, who remained bent over Hedwig, muttering to himself. Tom would let the man know later, when Hedwig was no longer at risk, one way or another.

Tom considered Hedwig's state and wondered if the two school owls he'd sent at the same time, one to Tonks and one to Black, had suffered similar fates. He hadn't heard back from either person, but he had no way of knowing at the moment whether that was because there'd been no reply or because Umbridge had stolen his mail.

"Tom?"

He blinked and turned to Hermione, who seemed shaken. He pasted a reassuring smile on his face, but he knew immediately that it hadn't worked. He dropped it and turned back to Hedwig. "She's mine," he said fiercely.

"Hedwig?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

Tom nodded shortly. He was glad, now, for the bond, because he didn't have to give voice to the fury he felt, nor did he have to explain his feelings about the owl, which were difficult for him to describe. Hedwig had been the first to realize that he wasn't Potter, yet she'd still been willing to help him. Willing enough, even, to reach this state in her efforts to deliver his mail.

Hermione took his hand. "Umbridge did this?" she asked.

Tom nodded again, grinding his teeth. He wanted so badly to give in to his anger, but that wouldn't help anyone, least of all Hedwig. Ginny burst in with Professor Grubbly-Plank behind her, and the woman started examining Hedwig the moment she spotted her. Ginny, out of breath, stumbled over to them.

"What are you planning to do?" Hermione asked after a minute.

Tom felt that familiar too-calm feeling come over him, and realized after a moment that Hermione was taking the brunt of his magic, just as Luna had. He pulled his hand away from her. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to remember Luna's words. "...Nothing." For now, he amended silently. He crossed his arms and watched his professors work to save his owl, not noticing the glance shared between Hermione and Ginny.

It was almost an hour later that Severus joined them. Ginny and Hermione had long since sat down, but Tom remained standing, looking more like a statue than a teenaged boy. Severus inclined his head with a glance toward Grubbly-Plank, indicating that his words were for her benefit, not Tom's. "The owl had several broken bones, and required a modified version of Skele-Gro for her wing, but the worst damage was to her internal organs. She was suffering from internal bleeding and -"

Tom didn't have the patience for pretending he hadn't already known this. "Were you in time?" he asked instead. That was the only answer that mattered.

"Yes. She will be fine, given a few weeks to rest and recover."

Tom relaxed and closed his eyes. "Thank you," he said after a moment. He handed over the letter. "She returned with this." He held his servant's gaze. "It will take time, but I will restore him." He watched Grubbly-Plank until she had finished up, then Obliviated her without a second thought. The only ones allowed in this room were the people who belonged to him.

That afternoon, Tom earned himself a week's worth of detention for punching Draco Malfoy in the face after the idiot made a comment about Hedwig.

AN: I'm glad to hear Luna's fun for at least some people. She's one of my favorite characters, but that makes her all the more difficult to write because I want so badly not to mess up.