Teaching History (is Old News)

11 - Named

"Um, Professor Riddle? I have a question about—"

"Check over your syllabus, the answers are there. If that doesn't answer your question, then reread the textbook. We're moving on," Tom vanishes the boggart away. "Next week, we'll be working with banshees. Do the readings beforehand. Class dismissed."

"But—" the Ravenclaw Third-Year, Thanh Tran, says.

"Ms. Tran, reread the textbook, I won't be available for office hours this weekend. You're a Ravenclaw, ask some of the older students in your house. Good day."

Tran rushes out in near-tears.

"Well that wasn't very nice."

"Potter, I can run my own classroom, you—" Tom turns around. "Oh. Chang. Did you need something?"

Cho Chang, the Flying instructor, raises her hands in defense. "Sorry for not being Harry, I guess?"

Tom turns back to his desk and begins rearranging his books into his bag.

"Uh… are you alright?" Chang asks.

"Did you need something?"

"Well, Cedric's coming to Hogsmeade for drinks. Harry and I are going to meet him at the Hog's Head. We were wondering if you want to join us, since we all went to school around the same time and all."

"…Potter put you up to this, didn't he?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Chang admits. She and Diggory never socialized with Tom back then, too occupied with each other and apparently adopting Potter. They were (and still are) disgusting with their PDA.

"Then no."

Chang sighs. "I tried. And for the record, this strange fight going on between you and Potter is driving the school into chaos. Go talk to him or I'll lock you both in a closet, don't think I won't just because you're Mr. Perfect."

"We're not fighting. I merely found another office, that's all."

Chang grimaces. "Look, it's none of my business, but this is Harry. He's your friend. He says some strange things sometimes but his heart's in the right place. If he upset you in any way then—"

"You're wrong," Tom steps out of the classroom. "He's not my friend."

Potter isn't anything.

:

For the past few days, Tom has seen students either glaring at him or nodding in solidarity. Many students, like the Weasleys, seem to be on 'Team Potter', insisting that Tom has wronged Potter somehow. Other students, like Greengrass and (to Tom's annoyance) Smith, say that Potter must have gone too far with his rambunctious behavior.

Apparently Tom has been 'snippy' and 'controlling' in his teaching lately while Potter keeps playing sad music like, 'All by Myself' and 'Rainy Blues' in every class.

"He cried onto his knitting! Tears of blood!" some students insist.

"Professor Riddle looks ready to stab the next person who says Potter's name."

"Well it's Potter's fault, he shouldn't be teaching!'

"Riddle wouldn't know a good teacher from a bad one, he's all about the textbook and perfectionism!"

That fight ended with several heads of neon purple hair and one student transfigured into a rubber duck. Madame Pomphrey scowls whenever she sees one of those 'Team Potter' versus 'Team Riddle' badges. Tom even sees 'Team Tomarry' buttons from a rare group of students and contemplates confiscating them for incorrect spelling. Are they signs meant to express allegiance to both parties…?

In any case, Tom refuses to talk to Potter, even if the student body seems oddly invested in their working relationship.

:

A few members of his group are already present when Tom walks into The Three Broomsticks. "Dolohov," he nods, "Avery. Carrow. Lestrange."

"Please, my lord, call me Bella," Lestrange flutters her eyes.

Tom forces a polite smile. "Of course, Bella."

The look of adoration he receives is a small price to pay for her loyalty. But he avoids her touch. "Have we ordered drinks?"

"A few butterbeers, some vodka," Dolohov grins. "Haven't ordered anything for you yet, m'Lord."

"Perhaps later," Tom dislikes the way alcohol affects his cognitive functions. "Tell me how things are with recruitment."

Dolohov shrugs, downing his vodka in one gulp. "Werewolves are weary of your terms but willing to work with us if you show them that you have power to back up your claims."

"Reasonable," Tom nods. "Tell them that I will give them a sign by December. For now, we'll give them supplies to help with their living conditions. What of the giants?"

"Barbarians. All of them," Carrow shivers. "Don't make me talk to them again, my Lord. They nearly took my arm! My arm!"

Tom sighs. "Did you approach them with the exact instructions that I asked you to do?"

"Um. Well."

"…I'll ask Crouch to take over your assignment," out of all his followers, Crouch is the most devout, the most competent. Shame he couldn't come to this meeting because of Ministry duties.

"Please don't demote me!"

Carrow's skill set will be useful when Tom needs an inside eye at the Ministry and considering his sister's power, Tom shouldn't be too harsh on Carrow… yet.

"One more chance, Carrow, otherwise I will find another to do your job. Don't forget what I did to Nott."

Carrow pales, "Of course, my Lord, you're so merciful…"

Obviously Tom is superior to them all but he wishes they would stop using the same vocabulary when they address him. Hearing the words 'merciful,' and 'yes my lord,' 'you're so amazing and powerful, my lord,' has become tiresome. Dull.

"Stop bowing your head. You're being too conspicuous."

"Yes, Carrow, stop burdening our lord," Bellatrix sneers.

"Avery?" Tom interrupts, ready to hear what's next on his agenda.

"I talked to Lord Malfoy. Lucius, of course, is eager to join our cause. His sons Abraxus and Draco though…"

"Noted. I will draft another letter for them."

"Lady Zambini doesn't want to hear anything from you. She said she's not interested in men who haven't gained true power yet."

"That blind—"

"Enough Bellatrix," Tom snaps. "It's understandable. I still need to spread my influence where I can… Recruitment in Hogwarts hasn't started yet. Dumbledore is still wary of me."

"Those children would have to be idiots not to follow you," Bellatrix croons.

"In any case, I called you all here to give you new assignments. We need to spread our group's message where we can before we begin our movement. Dolohov, you—"

"Whoa there!" Something crashes into Tom, tipping the table over with a splatter.

"My drink…!" Dolohov mourns, having ordered another round.

"What's the meaning of this! Apologize to my L—to Riddle, right now!" Bellatrix pulls out her wand.

"Put that away, we can talk through this," a woman with red hair, Molly Weasley scowls.

"Has anyone seen a lost flying car?!" her husband wanders in, nearly walking into a pole. "Oh hello! Uh, tough day?"

"None of your business, Weasel! Now, you, half-breed, apologize or speak to my stunner!"

"Calm your hair down!" the interloper holds up his large hands. "I meant no harm, uh, Riddle?!" The giant, no, half-giant, blinks in alarm. "Oh Merlin! I'm very very sorry, Riddle. I was in a rush to get a drink and some food for me animals, I've got a big shipment of creatures to bring in for Kettleburn's class and—"

"Hagrid," Tom stands up calmly. "I see you kept that animal hoarding hobby of yours. What is it? More acromantulas?"

Immediately, Hagrid's face turns boiling red. "Now listen here, Riddle, Aragog meant no harm and you know it! He wouldn't hurt nobody, he just wanted to live but you—"

"Wild creatures like that don't have feelings. They feed. They breathe. They die. Simple as that. If Aragog had ended up attacking your friend…"

"H-he wouldn't have h-hurt Harry…"

Seeing Hagrid tremble, Tom scoffs. If it were up to him, people like Hagrid wouldn't be allowed to have wands let alone be in a magical school.

"Um. I'm awfully confused. What do giant magical spiders have to do with my car?"

"Oh, Arthur, they're not talking about your blasted car! Hagrid here knocked over their table and—"

"Acromantula?!" another patron, the excitable minister of dark artifacts, squeaks. "Where?! When?! How?!"

"What is going on in my bar?! Who kicked over my table?!" Rosmerta walks in from the kitchen.

"Let me stun him, my Lord," Bellatrix murmurs, "it will be quick and we can leave."

"Bellatrix," Tom's going to get a migraine, "I told you 'no'."

"Can I get another drink?" Dolohov mutters to Carrow.

"Maybe we should go…"

"Oh no, you don't," Rosmerta storms over, "Who's going to pay for my damages?!"

"Merlin, just use a reparo charm, there, all better—"

"That's not the issue here, Avery!" Rosmerta pushes past Tom.

"That's it!" Bellatrix shrieks, and before Tom can stop her, she tugs Rosmerta by the wrist and fires a stunner.

"I'm out," Dolohov snatches the nearest pint and apparates away. Coward.

"I knew we shouldn't have brought her," Carrow moans as Rosmerta and Bellatrix start firing spells back and forth, smashing tables and mugs alike.

"Good Merlin, duck, Arthur, duck!" Molly Weasley pulls her husband down.

"Me animals!" Hagrid cries, running out the door to the outrageously large caravan parked outside.

"Leave, now," Tom hisses to Avery and Carrow, "We'll regroup later."

The two apparate straight away, leaving Tom to duck and crawl out of the pub to the street. If Hogwarts wasn't apparition-proof, Tom would vanish too. He scowls at the waste of time. He'll have to contact Crouch and demand he make Hagrid disappear into Azkaban where he belongs…

"Now, calm down, Lulu, girl, don't make any sudden movements," he hears when he gets outside. "What?! No, don't bite, stop, stop!"

Headlights flash up above them and to Tom's horror, a giant blue Angela Ford car swoops down, honking as loudly as a gaggle of geese and crashes into Hagrid's caravan of animals.

Damn Arthur Weasley, Tom thinks as he summons up shields to protect him from the stampede of frantic nifflers and fire camels. The car roars loudly in a combination of honks and growls. Trust that idiotic Arthur Weasley to create an artificially intelligent car and set it loose on the masses.

"Don't touch my Lulu!" Hagrid jumps on the front of the car, only to be thrown through the windows of Zonkos Joke Shop.

Tom narrows his eyes, a blasting hex on the tip of his tongue when suddenly—

A llama, an actual llama, with a sparkly orange bowtie reading Lulu, jumps from the broken caravan and jumps over Tom's shield charm, landing on his head.

Tom topples over, feels his bones crack, feels the damned llama trotting away as his wands lands away in the dirt.

No, Tom thinks, no, no, no, no. This can't be happening. This can't be.

But it is. The Ford Angela lets out a loud engine roar, turning up its speed, rushing towards him.

What did Potter say before?

(Riddle's going to die a tragic death via car crash because of a llama, professor, I don't think we can be friends.)

The headlights fill all of Tom's vision until he sees nothing but a stabbing, all encompassing light. He thinks of the world he will never rule. He thinks of the books he'll never read, all the knowledge he'll never know.

Lord Voldemort dead before he can even be born.

"No!" Tom yells, clawing at the ground, trying to force his body to move, damn it, he's not ordinary, he's not human, he can't die, he has a horcrux, but, but, but—

"Bombarda!" Tom hears someone roar and suddenly, Tom's pushed to the side, a warmth curled all over him and Tom sees brilliant, lightning-green eyes.

"Are you alright?!"

Tom's jaw drops. "Potter—"

"Are you alright?!" those hands cling tighter, those tears fall faster.

Tears have always made humans weak, that's what Tom thought. But here, crying furiously for him, Potter looks absolutely ethereal.

"…You're a seer," Tom says instead.

Potter goes very still.

"This whole time, you were a seer."

EDITED CHAPTER - Nov 15, 2019