"I'm sorry, it's just that…"
He tried to hide the disgust in his voice, "You're scared…I know."
He did know—not now, but he had known. It was the same fear he first experienced so many years ago. The first and last time he had decided he would succumb to such a feeling at five years old. For a moment, he thought he smelt the potent odor of turpentine, the solvent used to scrub down the orphanage after a lice break out. There weren't many toys to play with since they had to be sanitized, so he sat on the floor, rolling a wooden marble.
"Do'ya even know why you're here Riddle?" asked the snout-nosed bully who's name was so inconsequential to him now that it escaped his memory. His younger self realized early that it was best to initially ignore anyone who heckled you, unless of course, they refused to leave you alone. Tom looked up at the snout, but quickly avoided his gaze and instead resumed nimbly rolling the marble around under his hand.
"'Cause nobody wants you and nobody will ever want you. I've seen you…you freak! I've seen you do things!" he pointed his finger, intending to stir Tom.
It was true. Tom had done things that he had not known how or why at the time.
"That's not true! My dad wants me—and he's coming for me—as soon as he can find me!"
"Don't get your hopes up little baby. No one's coming for you. Your dad would've come for you already if he wanted you," he sneered. That fear had taken root in him long ago, and now it was being spelled out in the form of a terribly rotund little boy.
Tom's naive mind had always pictured an older man, much like himself, tirelessly looking for his little boy—traveling from one orphanage to another, each time, turning away with his now haggard face hung in despair. It would only be a matter of time before he came for Tom. Of course he realized, after many more Christmases, Birthdays and New Years had come and gone, that his father was not coming for him. Every night Tom prayed that his father would take him away from that place, but somehow, the prayer wore out his lips and they no longer uttered it. Instead, he doled out his time, planning the day when he would track him down and Tom would have his revenge on his father and take back all those years that had been stolen from him, living from one Hogwarts term to the next. That time would have to wait though—for it was the next phase of his plans.
"Riddle?" her meek voice broke his thoughts.
"Don't worry about it," he removed his arms from around her frame and stepped back, "I have some business to take care of," and without another word, he exited her company with nary a trace of comfort left behind. This certainly was a new little twist in the course of events. Tom had never expected the unfortunate coincidence of her being in the same bathroom as Myrtle to ultimately tie her to the murder. And now, here she was, unexpectedly thrown into his sphere of interest.
It was nightfall when Tom was summoned to the Headmaster's office once again by Dippet, who only reminded him that the chances of him being able to stay at Hogwarts for the summer were slipping further and further away as each day passed and the Heir had not been caught.
Tonight was it.
He would go to the dungeons, get the spider Hagrid had been keeping, and turn him in. Everything would be solved and his plans would be diverted back onto the right path. Tom rounded another corner, swiftly descending the stone staircase into an underground corridor lined with torches. He slowly crept up to the door and then forcefully kicked it open.
The half-giant gazed at him fearfully, frightened by the abrupt noise and immediately dashed to stand in front of a rotting chest.
"Evening Rubeus," despite his rancorous entrance, he maintained a certain level of propriety.
"Tom please! Don' touch Aragog! He wudn't hurt nobody!" he screamed pathetically as the chained box rattled as its contents tried to escape.
"No Hagrid, he did hurt someone. The girl's family is coming tomorrow. The least we can do is rid the school of the monster that killed her."
"Aragog didn't kill 'er! He didn't…" the oaf cried big, sloppy tears that splashed on the stone floor.
"Step aside," Tom whipped out his wand, as if ready to duel with the spider as the lid swung open and the tangle of legs crawled out. Tom raised his wand to cast but the spell never came as Hagrid jumped on top of him, reaching for Tom's wand while the spider ran past.
"NOOO!" Hagrid screamed as Tom's long arm held his wand just out of the half-giant's grasp. He felt his ribs being crushed by the half giant's massive frame and all the air rushed out of his lungs. His head was spinning as Rubeus still swatted at his wand and Tom fired whatever spell first came to his lips, "Incarcerous!"
He was able to breathe again when Hagrid's body fell to the floor, rolling over and laying stock still as invisible ropes tied themselves tightly around him, flexing as he struggled. Tom breathed in deeply, standing up, sweeping his hair back into place and straightening his school uniform. He could hear Hagrid still whimpering pathetically and it greatly annoyed him as he whipped around and saw tears well up in the oaf's eyes, his bushy hair collecting around him, making him look like an injured animal.
"Silencio!" Tom added, and the choked sniveling ceased, "I can't expect you to turn yourself in," he spoke now to his captive who still laid on the stone floor, faintly visible by the dying torch light, "So you're going to come with me to Dippet…and you're going to tell him everything." Riddle towered over his captive, hardly able to mask the smile from his face.
"Levicorpus!" Tom raised his wand at Hagrid once more and his giant body was raised in the air and hung there like he was floating on a current of wind.
By this time, Tom and Hagrid met no one as Tom traversed up to Dippet's office with Hagrid floating closely behind him. Tom pulled back the door-knocker, rapping it three times until the door opened on it's own accord.
"Mr. Riddle! What is the meaning of this?" Headmaster Dippet slowly rose from behind his desk, his wrinkled brow furrowed in disbelief at the sight of Tom standing in the doorway with a silenced and bound Rubeus Hagrid looming behind him.
"Headmaster Dippet, this is the student behind the attacks," the words were alarming as they bounced around the vaulted ceilings of the Headmaster's office. There was a very long silence as Dippet fixed his spectacles on the perch of his nose as if he didn't trust his own, tired, eyes.
"Hagrid?" Dippet's voice sounded strangled and disappointed, as if it might've been acceptable had it been someone else, which greatly irritated Tom. The hurt look finally left his eyes and his head bowed as he beckoned them forward, a great shadow covering his creased visage, "Sit down, the both of you."
"It is with great pleasure and great disdain that I announce that the culprit responsible for the murder of Myrtle Jenkins has been apprehended," Dippet declared to a packed Great Hall that still bore the memorial tapestries. He looked around to the students' faces, some displayed curiosity, others anger. Whispers immediately irrupted like a wildfire in a wheat field, spreading around until the sound could not be spoken over as Dippet unsuccessfully tried to do.
The Gryffindor table's inhabitants began to look about uneasily as a certain half-giant house member was noticeably absent. Evelyn glanced at Tom who looked rather pleased with himself and only she knew why.
"After much deliberation, my colleagues and I have decided that the only just punishment is for his wand to be disbanded, rendering him unable to perform magic ever again…However, my dear friend Albus Dumbledore has convinced me that his case will be better rectified if he is allowed to stay under the faculty's care as a resident game keeper for the grounds."
The grin on Tom's face looked as if it had been slapped right off of him as the news of their mercy for Hagrid dissatisfied him.
By that afternoon it was well known who the culprit of the attacks had been. This was only reassured by the fact that Hagrid's belongings had already been removed from the Gryffindor tower by the time the rest of his housemates made it back to their quarters. Evelyn was on her way to her own quarters in the dungeon when someone tapped her on the shoulder, she whirled around agitatedly, somehow feeling jittery from the whole incident.
"Miss Westwood," the familiar raspy voice of Headmaster Dippet called out.
She took in a deep breath, "Yes sir?"
"I wanted to extend an apology to you for my allegations against you without sufficient evidence," he stated very ceremoniously, as if the words were written somewhere on his sleeve.
"It's okay." As much as she should have taken this rare moment to harp it on him for being so supercilious, she decided she would much rather make it back to the Slytherin common room as quickly as possible.
"If there is any service I can ever do for you, do not hesitate to contact me." Sure, like she would ever ask him favors after all of this, "I also wanted to remind you that since this whole fiasco is over with, we can continue to make the necessary preparations for you to stay here over the summer if that is still your wish."
"Of course Headmaster." She had almost forgotten about all of it. The conversation was turning awkward, so Evelyn decided to end it right there, "uhm…so, I guess I need to be getting back to the common room before any of the prefects get after me." Evelyn threw out whatever excuse she could think of, even though she could care less if the prefects knew.
"Of course. I want to speak with you and Mr. Riddle tomorrow about going forward with the summer preparations. Please come to my office tomorrow night."
"Ok," she answered awkwardly.
"Then goodnight Miss Westwood."
"Goodnight Headmaster," she waved a little and darted off into the dungeon, towards the Slytherin common room.
Evelyn muttered the password and waited for the stone wall to spin away and open for her. The dark, underground dungeon was lit rather festively considering the recent events. Silver and green tapestries were draped across the chandeliers and someone was letting off small fireworks that brilliantly lit up the usually dark corners of the common room. They were no doubt celebrating the removal of "the annoying oaf", thanks to their very own, Tom Riddle. Normally, Evelyn would be keen to join in on the revelry, and all of her knew found "friends" from the Slytherin Girls Club were passing around drinks, their perfectly polished smiles beamed at their hero of the hour, but Evelyn knew the truth. She knew that Hagrid was just as guilty as herself, except less so. It was she that gave Tom the idea to blame it all on Hagrid. She that insisted that he do it as soon as possible to keep her from taking the heat.
But somehow she didn't feel as relieved as she had hoped.
Tom couldn't help but notice the small, blonde-headed figure wander through the crowds of Slytherins, intent on going to her own dorm. A smile slipped off his face as he noticed that she didn't linger…or even look at him.
A/N: I know, I said I probably wouldn't update this again, but I've very very very slowly been sort of working on this chapter in my free time. I almost feel bad uploading it because I seriously don't know how often I'll work on this story, because I have to warn you that I really don't know where I'm going with this. I sort of have a very very rough outline, but I'm really not sure if I'll get to the end of it. Anyway, with all that depressing stuff said, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. A certain LadyFoxy encouraged me to finish this chapter. It's been sitting in my documents folder for what seems like forever. Thanks.