The final traces of the headache he developed following his encounter with Sir Cadogan were only just disappearing as he approached Dumbledore's office. It only took a stop to the Hospital Wing for a Pepperup potion and a hearty dinner prepared by Dobby in the kitchens.
"Peppermint Pixies," said Harry, and the gargoyle slid out of his way.
The door was already open by the time he reached the top, and muffled voices could be heard coming from inside. Cautiously, Harry stepped into the room.
"We have perfected our craft over generations! I am telling you, Albus, it has nothing to do with us. It must be coming from another source. I have given you my opinion, but there are others better to confirm."
Alone in his office, Dumbledore stood behind his desk, staring above the doorframe through which Harry had just entered. "Thank you, Everard," he said calmly, while stacking a collection of papers. "I will look into this matter further. I have only the highest respect for your family's business."
Looking down from the portrait he was conversing with, Dumbledore's eyes lit up at the sight of Harry. "I'm glad you could join me this evening, Harry, I thought my message might not reach you."
"It's my pleasure, sir," Harry said with smile. "Sir Cadogan was certainly… eager."
Dumbledore laughed deeply, the sound of it filling the room with warmth.
"That old blighter still around, is he? He's almost as old as the collection. I always got a good kick out of him," the disassociated voice spoke from the frame above him.
Stepping back to get a better look at the portrait, Harry could see the head of a man with inky black hair, which sat upon a set of square shoulders. A pair alarming blue eyes looked down at him like freshly cut jewels, and a strange sense of familiarity came over him that he couldn't quite place.
"Maybe I'll go see if I can find him for old time's sake," the man said before quickly disappearing from his frame.
"A former Headmaster?" Harry asked, turning back to Dumbledore who was now seated comfortably behind his desk.
"Everard was granted a position of honor in this office for services to the school a good many years ago. He was one of the few non-headmasters granted the privilege. You might better recognize him as a Greengrass."
Harry felt himself jolt a little in surprise. "One of Daphne's ancestors?"
"An important relation, yes." Dumbledore chuckled through his beard, and invited Harry to take his seat across from him. "Now, to touch upon matters more important than artwork, in a previous lesson I introduced you to the Gaunt family and their steep descent into madness. Given recent excitement, I feel today would be a good day to view another memory, though I doubt it will provide us much respite."
Harry nodded. "That sounds alright, sir. I still feel a bit off."
"I am not surprised. Such is the nature of potions; they do marvelous work in healing the body, but their effects linger before being flushed out." A serious look settled over Dumbledore's aged features. "I have already mentioned this, but I am most impressed with the way you handled yourself yesterday. Acromantula are no simple foe, and to efficiently dispatch of so many on your own is a testament to how much you have grown."
"Thank you, sir, but I feel as though I could have done better," said Harry, rubbing tenderly at his jaw.
"Not every victory is without cost, Harry. It will do good to remember that," Dumbledore advised, a shadow lurking in behind his great blue eyes. "I have a scar on my knee that resembles the map of the London underground. It was a gift from a particularly nasty curse and helps remind me the same."
Reaching for a small vial at the edge of his desk, Dumbledore's gloved hand spasmed and knocked it over the edge.
Instinctively, Harry reached out and caught it.
"Professor are you alright?" he asked in concern, moving to kneel next to where Dumbledore was now hunched.
"Yes… ugh, thank you… I'm fine."
He reached his hand out again, but just as quickly jerked it back sharply with a hiss of pain.
"Sir!"
Dumbledore pushed violently away from his desk, sending his chair tearing across the floor with a harsh scrape. His gloved hand was clenched tightly against his chest, and he squinted his eyes, deepening the lines of his age.
Several painful seconds went by, where Dumbledore breathed short and shallow, before his breath eventually evened and whatever had come over him had passed.
"Professor?" Harry spoke almost fearfully.
"It's nothing to worry about, my dear boy," Dumbledore tried to reassure. Much of the pain had left his face. "I am simply feeling the effects of an accident from one of my experiments. I'm afraid my body does not heal as quickly as it once did."
"Are you sure?" Harry pressed, unconvinced. Rarely had he ever seen Dumbledore caught off guard, and never had he seen the man in so much pain. He could feel something was wrong.
"We will have plenty of time to speak about the pains of growing old and my foolishness in the future," Dumbledore said, not allowing Harry to dwell on what had just occurred. "Tonight, we will delve deeper into Tom's past."
Taking the vial back from Harry, he poured a memory into the milky surface of his pensieve.
"How far back are we going this time?" Harry enquired.
"Tonight, we will be visiting Tom in his childhood. It is an unpleasant memory, and one I wish I had gleamed during my visit to the orphanage. Had I… perhaps none of this would ever had happened." A dour silence fell over them, before Dumbledore continued wistfully, "The memory comes from one Amy Benson, who never did fully recover from what happened."
What could he possibly have done? Harry thought.
It seemed Dumbledore read the look on his face, as he answered, "I scarcely believed it myself when I first saw it. This marked an important moment in Tom's life, where his witnessed firsthand the effects of his cruelty and the power he could wield over others, both innocent and those he perceived to have wronged him."
Dumbledore extended his hand and together they dipped beneath the surface of the memory, one moment standing in the Headmaster's Office and the next falling away from the world in a flash of light.
The first thing Harry noticed was the distinct scent of salt assaulting his senses. There was a strong breeze whipping at the loose ends of his cloak, one that would have been bitterly cold had he been actually been able to feel it.
Each memory was unique. Different sensations were presented depending on the emphasis of whose intimate experience you were living through. In this case, it appeared Amy Benson enjoyed the sea.
"The coast is a beautiful place is it not," Dumbledore said, appearing next to him in his midnight blue robes. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. "There's something about the sea air that is refreshing to the soul."
They walked along a stony path towards the edge of quaint village built around a single pub and church, both of which were bustling with couple's both young and old. Small cottages could be seen dotting the coast in the distance.
"They are waiting just ahead of us." Dumbledore gestured in the direction of a large gathering of children stretching between what looked to be the ages of five and sixteen.
Harry recognized the figure of Mrs. Cole from the memory of the orphanage, but there were other figures there as well watching over the children carefully.
"You have the next hour to yourselves for lunchtime. Remember, don't stray too far, we want to keep on schedule for the activities planned in the afternoon," Harry was able to pick up the sound of Mrs. Cole's voice over the wind. "And please be sure to eat your apples!"
Before she had even finished, the children were off chatting in their own groups.
As if controlled by the memory, Harry felt his attention drawn to a young girl, about eight or nine years old, with mousy brown hair pulled into two uneven pigtails, brown eyes, and a button nose.
"Amy!"
Harry turned his head in the direction of the voice and saw a scrawny boy of around the same age approach. His nose was distinctly freckled, and there was a large gap in the space where one of his front teeth should be.
"Do you want to go look for shells and cool rocks by the water?" There was a slight whistle that accompanied his speech as his breath passed through the gap in his teeth. "Alfie told me that he found a diamond last year!"
Amy scrunched up her face in a manner that showed she was thinking hard. "Alfie is lying to you, Dennis! If he found a diamond, he'd be rich and wouldn't live with us anymore." She spread out her arms as if trying to show what being rich was.
"Nuh uh," Dennis shook his head in denial. "He showed it to me! It was shiny an' everything! C'mon, I want to find a diamond too, and you have good eyes, you always find pennies on the ground."
"Or maybe the pennies find her," a soft and more cultured voice said from the beside the two children.
At the sound of the third party, Amy and Denis had very different reactions to it. Amy nearly shrunk in on herself, a heavy blush coloring her face as she peered shyly at the grass beneath her shoes. On the other hand, Dennis stiffened. An anger built within him, but one built upon fear. He could see the terror in Dennis' mossy eyes, the want to run away but choosing to stay bravely behind for Amy.
"How could the pennies even do that?" said Dennis.
"Magic," Tom Riddle's eyes lit up dangerously with the word.
Dennis flinched and shuffled back a half inch.
"Amy c'mon let's go," Dennis said hurriedly, his eyes shifting frantically like a mouse caught in a trap. "I want to get a diamond before Alfie finds them all."
Despite his pleads, Amy didn't budge from her position on the grass. Instead, she peaked up at Tom, who was handsome even as a child.
In a small but hopeful voice, she said, "Maybe Tom can help us find some?" She looked back at Dennis, whose freckles were sticking out noticeably on his pale skin. "Remember when Tom found Roger's marbles in the drain? Nobody could reach their fingers inside, but Tom still got them out."
"And then he stole them!" Dennis said angrily, showing a hint of his bravery.
"Dennis!" Amy looked horrified at her friend. "You're being rude to Tom!" She glanced quickly at Riddle before looking away immediately, her cheeks red again.
"I can prove it." Dennis was strong in his childlike resolve, though the effect was ruined by the whistle that escaped his mouth at his last word.
"I'd like to see you try." Tom stared back unblinking at the other boy, cowing him instantly.
"Dennis stop being so mean! Apologize to Tom. You already should have done so after scaring away the snake last week!" Amy looked at the boy pleadingly.
"He was talking to the snake, it was freaky!" Dennis tried to reason with her.
"He was my friend," Tom's voice was cold and filled with an edge no child should have.
Amy stared at Dennis, her hands on her hips.
"Fine…" Dennis caved, his posture as reluctant as his voice. "I'm sorry, Tom—" Amy gave him a little kick of encouragement "—for being rude… and for scaring your friend."
"I don't need friends," was his only response.
Amy frowned. "Oh… well, we were going to go look for diamonds by the shore…"
"I know the best place to find diamonds," he said suddenly, his eyes lighting up with something like anticipation. Something changed in that moment, where Tom Riddle became more beast than boy. "I'm taking you there," he commanded.
A nervous smile spread across Amy's lips. Taking Dennis by the hand, she dragged him after Tom who was leading them further and further away from the rest of their group. Only Dennis seemed to notice this, his protestations falling on deaf ears.
They stopped at the edge of a cliff, which dropped off to a rocky shoreline battered by waves below.
"W-we n-need to g-g-go back. Mrs. Cole said n-not to travel this far," Dennis stuttered, his entire body trembling.
"Do you want diamonds or not!" Tom snapped. The venom in his voice was enough to even cause Amy to flinch. Realizing his mistake, Tom's features softened in an almost unnatural way, before politely saying, "It's only a little farther."
The next moment, Tom grabbed hold of both their shoulders and vanished into thin air. Harry and Dumbledore followed immediately after, landing at the opening of cave at the base of the cliff.
"Did he just apparate?" Harry asked, looking unsettled at what had just transpired.
Dumbledore stared out at the sea foaming around their feet. He turned and acknowledged Harry through his half-moon glasses. "I feel as though I recall you telling me a story of you escaping your cousin at school one day."
"Yes, but that was accidental! This…" Harry gesticulated up at the cliff they been standing on seconds before, "…this was—"
"Accidental as well," Dumbledore finished, as the memory paused around them. "Tom was clueless to what he was doing, his only desire being to lead them down. Remember, he was ignorant of magic in its true form at this point in time.
"The amount of control Tom had as a child was remarkable, and I knew he had the makings of a prodigy, but everything he ever did was under the assumption that they were his own special powers. In essence, he was no different than a baby who wants their favorite rattle from across the room, or a child looking to escape the torment of his cousin.
"He perverted accidental magic and manipulated its chaotic nature, not knowing the causes or consequences of his selfish desires. Everything he accomplished was done in ignorance. Look no further than what happened to your Aunt Marge. The moment he took hold of his wand and was taught the basics of controlled magic, his special powers disappeared."
The memory resumed around them.
"Amy! Amy!" Ben's frightened screams could barely be heard over the sound of crashing waves. He ran over to the small girl hunched on the ground, coughing and panting in an effort to catch her breath.
"Dennis? Tom?" She sounded confused, her mind trying to comprehend where and how they'd gotten here.
"I told you! I told you we shouldn't have gone with Tom! He's a freak! He's going to hurt us, just like he hurts all the other boys!" Pure terror could be heard in Dennis' boyish cries, as he tried to drag Amy to her feet.
"Stop." Tom's voice instantly froze Dennis. "Come here." There was a confidence in Tom's tone, as if he had done this before and took pleasure in doing so.
"Kick her," he said, his eyes dancing with a cruelty beyond his years.
Dennis knocked her back to the rocky floor, and Amy shrieked in pain.
"Again."
There was a moment of hesitation where it looked like Dennis was fighting an unseen force, but he failed.
Amy screeched.
Tom laughed.
"Again."
"Again."
"Again."
With each kick, her wails grew louder and louder, and Tom's laughter grew near hysteric.
"Shut up. Stop crying."
Amy immediately fell silent at his command. Silent tears dripped down her cheeks.
"Let's find some diamonds," Tom said coldly, his smile so sharp it cut like a knife.
The entrance to the cave was shrouded in complete darkness. The dank, inky walls around them seemed to swallow all light and for a moment Harry thought the children would get lost, but Tom Riddle knew the way. Eventually, off in the distance, a greenish glow emanated with a low pulse and soon the expansive cavern opened up onto a hidden pool of water.
At the center of this small lake, stood a small outcrop of rocks that formed an island.
"Get on your knees," Tom ordered Dennis, who stood at the edge of the glowing pool.
Much to Harry's surprise, Dennis resisted Tom's order and stood straight, his eyes blinking madly to fight back brimming tears.
Tom's eyes narrowed like that of a serpent. "Now." Dennis howled in pain and collapsed into a wriggling mess on the ground. "On your knees, Dennis," he practically hissed his name.
Tom stood above him, looking down, and there was a moment of utter silence where Dennis' whimpers had quieted, and Amy sat in abject horror.
"Down," Tom finally said, and Dennis' face thrown under the water.
Amy screamed. Tom laughed. And Dennis thrashed violently.
"Up."
Dennis was pulled up, breathless and coughing horribly, his shaggy hair plastered to his face like a drowned rat.
"Down." He was plunged again.
Tom's lips spread wider and wider into a monstrous smile with each command. It was a game to him. He was playing with a life at the order of two words.
"Up."
"Down."
He could hear them plead and cry and beg, but the hatred in his eyes remained unblinking.
"Up."
"Mommy…"
"Down."
"Tom, stop!"
"Up!"
"Stop!"
"Down."
"Please!"
"Up."
"Mommy!"
"Down."
"Tom please, we just wanted to be your friends," Amy pleaded through chocking sobs, her hands reaching up shakily and pulling desperately at his trousers. She was too afraid to look at the water anymore, where fewer and fewer bubbles could be seen breaking the surface.
Turning his head to the broken little girl on the ground, Tom's eyes burned with such intensity they looked almost crimson in the dark light.
"I don't need friends," said Lord Voldemort.
Suddenly, twisted black shadows came darting in from all directions as the memory lost color and scenes started to skip and stretch. It was a disorienting feeling, like the world was collapsing around him, and Harry was finding it incredibly difficult to breathe. The darkness began to swirl, tightening around his throat with an unseen grip, before something abruptly pulled him upwards.
Looking up, he could see the concerned face of Albus Dumbledore, his hand tightly gripping Harry's shoulder, the two of them back in his office.
"What was that?" Harry groaned painfully as he found a seat. That had never happened before when leaving a memory.
"Memories are biased, Harry, and thus they can be manipulated and corrupted. That was Amy Benson's worst memory, a living nightmare, and one so twisted by Tom that it will attempt to feast on any who watch it."
"What would have happened if I was trapped in there?" Harry asked, a shiver snaking down his spine as he did.
Dumbledore did not answer, but the look on his face was all he needed to know.
"He was always a monster," said Harry.
"Something I was hard pressed to agree with at one point, but now there is little that could make me think the contrary."
"Dennis?"
"Has passed. The boy changed after leaving that cave and died not a decade later." Dumbledore gazed distantly out the window as he spoke. "Miss Benson has fared little better."
"I apologize for having shown you this, Harry," Dumbledore continued. He reached into his desk and pulled out a bottle of brandy, pouring the two of them a glass. "This should help."
He raised his glass to Harry, and they took a long drink. A sort of peace settled over them, like that after a heavy storm.
"I believe that will be all for tonight," Dumbledore finally said, sitting his empty glass next to him. "Unless there is anything you might like to ask?"
Now that Dumbledore had mentioned it, there was one thing that had been playing on his mind since this morning. Harry tugged at his collar, almost embarrassed. "Well, er, you see sir, Professor Slughorn is having a Christmas party—"
"I've heard," said Dumbledore looking amused. "I imagine it is not an event to miss."
"Yeah—the thing is, um—I'm going, but I'm taking someone, and…"
Dumbledore burst into a might laugh, his face flush with a youthful exuberance. "Are you asking me for romantic advice, Harry? It has been a long, long time since I have been on the market so to say." Harry felt himself blush. "But perhaps there is something I can do for you and Miss Greengrass," he finished knowingly.
"How did you—"
Dumbledore tapped the crook of his nose and gave him a wink.
Harry could only laugh. "I just don't know what to get her. I would imagine it is customary for me to do so?"
"Yes, tradition demands it," Dumbledore answered. "The Greengrass' are an old family and they would expect no less."
"You don't suppose a bundle of Bertie Botts would be enough?" Harry ran a tired hand through his hair.
"For you friend Ronald, perhaps. And though I'm sure Miss Greengrass enjoys their unique experience as much as the rest of us do, I fear you will have to do better than that," Dumbledore chuckled.
"Is there anything you think I could do?"
Checking the time on his golden stopwatch, Dumbledore rose from his seat. "Life is all too brief, we may catch our rest in death. It seems as though our evening is not yet over. Your wand, Harry," Dumbledore called as he drew his own.
"Wand work, sir?" Harry couldn't keep the excitement from his voice.
"Yes, it seems the responsibility has fallen on to me to teach you how to woe a lady. Oh, how
James and Sirius must be loving this." Dumbledore eyes sparkled with a kind of light that could fill a room.
"Now in order for this little trick to work, we must familiarize ourselves with elemental transfiguration…" Dumbledore began to lecture, his passion for teaching coming through. Soon enough, they were lost in the wonder of magic, working long into the morning, time passing by in no more than a blink, and the troubles of the world all but forgotten in the presence of such overwhelming love.