Anything from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to JKR. Other than that, I made it all up. Angst/Anxiety/Drama. AU. Enjoy.

Previously on A Riddle With Another Name 19: Plans Scuttled And Not

"Oi. Here you are Bertie. Good evening mates."

The frazzled looks of Jackson and Butters made Bertie wonder if something had gone wrong. Pushing Zach, Trevor and Aiden behind him, he inquired.

"Is there a problem?"

Jackson shook his head, pulling an explanation out of his arse. "A problem? No Bertie there's no problem. Butters and I noticed that those three were missing from the common room along with yourself. We are just following up to ensure everything was tidy."

Butters sighed. He didn't want to get caught up in Jackson's shite lies.

Bertie knew something was up but decided he would discuss it with Jackson and Butters in private. "Alright then. If everything is tidy with you and everything is tidy with us, let's get back to the dorms. You three walk behind Jackson. Butters and I will watch your rears."

Aiden laughed as he softly whispered to Zach and Trevor. "He's going to watch our rears."

"Knock it off Walsh. Save your nonsense until your are back in your dorm room. Get going." Bertie called out.

Zach and Trevor rolled their eyes at their mate. He was going to get such a thump when they got back to their dorm room.

/

/

A Riddle With Another Name 20: Chamber Bushes Quidditch Office

Tom alternately wrote a bit in his diary, glanced over at his Basilisk then bitched out loud about each and everything that aggravated him: Dumbledore and his sanctimonious ways: Stupid arsehole Malfoy: Fucking Merpeople: Disrespectful Gryffindors: The loss of Salizar Slytherin's locket: Being unable to use the secret Slughorn had shared. Most of all his hate for Merope Gaunt and the filthy, muggle Riddle family that still ran through his body. Tom was alone in the Chamber. He could vent and rage as he chose. Who could stop him?

/*/

The first of what Tom had written had to do with his so called family. Most of it was redundant bullshite that had been covered on previous pages of the diary. Tom didn't give two shites. He'd write about certain things as often as he liked. That his gripes had been covered on previous pages meant little to him. He was venting and would write what he wished. As it was something that continually drove him to rage, he started his written vent with Merope Gaunt Riddle.

Merope Gaunt, a simple, gullible, weak, so-called witch who gave up her magnificent birthright to chase behind, marry and be dumped by a bloody muggle. She, who would have had the world in front of her had she married a proper wizard befuddled a muggle for sex and a name with a love potion. Then, in an unbelievably stupid move, she lifted the charm which would have allowed her to keep filthy Tom Riddle, Sr. under her spell for life. Mad cow. Of course, once the love potion was removed, Tom Riddle Sr. had been so appalled to find himself in such a despicable place he had immediately left her on a run. THEN, THEN, instead of bucking up because she had a child coming, Merope let herself die without lifting a wand to save herself. Nasty bitch.

Tom fumed as he gagged over the words he was writing.

His mother. No, not mother. Mothers protected their children. They loved their children. They stayed alive to raise their children. The witch who gave birth to him didn't even care enough to stay alive for her child, for him. Adding insult to injury, this foul excuse for a witch had traded one of Salizar Slytherin's personal belongings that had landed with the Gaunts to filthy, greedy Caractacus Burke of Borgin & Burkes.

Tom screamed out in pain and anger throwing his quill across the room in a fit of fury causing the Basilisk to stop chewing and glance up at his master.

Tom composed himself and soothingly addressed his monster. "Nothing to worry about my friend. Continue your meal. History is upsetting me, but no matter. There will come a day when Lord Voldemort will reclaim all that belongs to him."

Summoning the quill back to him, Tom Riddle straightened his back and continued with his written diatribe.

Although he knew of Caractacus Burke, the bleeder didn't really interest Tom. Who did interest Tom was the wealthy, oldie witch Hepzibah Smith who had purchased Salizar's huge, gold locket and was keeping it as if it belonged to her.

Silently raging this time, Tom pressed the quill so deeply into the parchment page it was pressing into the page below.

As if it belonged to her Tom wrote. The hag will soon learn what it means to steal from me. She may have my locket now, but in the very near future, Tom Riddle will be paying Witch Smith a visit she won't like. I plan to retrieve my locket even if I have to pull it from around her cold, dead neck.

Tom dropped the quill down on the desk and leaned back in the chair. After a few cleansing breaths, Tom picked up the quill once again.

"Bloody thieves. All of them"

The Basilisk had finished its dinner and was lying quietly. The only thing that could be heard was Tom's mutterings and the scratching of his quill.

/*/

With the same malice, Tom started to write about his filthy, muggle father, but what was there to write? Tom knew the story back and forth. Tom Riddle, Sr had had sex with Merope while under a love potion and made a child. A child that hadn't interested him in the least. A child born out of a love potion but not love. A child who had spent ten years being spied on in a dirty orphanage. A child…

Tom let out a huff.

Was a child, but not a child anymore. He was a wizard who had almost come of age. A wizard who had found out his sperm donor had been a Lothario before and after Merope. In fact, his muggle father had been so rich and entitled he had courted and disposed of a great many witches before marrying some pureblood witch who had thrown him out after he continued his cheating ways.

At that moment, something began tickling the brain of Lord Voldemort. Something he knew was connected to something else. Tom shook his head back and forth trying to get his thoughts in order. However, the thoughts wouldn't coalesce.

Tom continued to write venting against Tom Riddle, Sr. He was on to writing about the satisfaction he had felt as he went through The Riddle House killing every living thing in his path. Then, as he lowered his quill to continue writing, a flash of insight passed in front of his face like a living thing. Tom Riddle, Sr. had married again and allegedly fathered at least one more child.

The quill dropped to the desk once again. This time, Tom wasn't angry. He was surprised. His first thought was to drop everything and run to the wizard who would share anything he knew as long as he received something in return. It had been Professor Slughorn who had shared some of the more sordid aspects of Tom Riddle Sr's life. Tom was absolutely sure Slughorn had mentioned a wife with a child or children. Old Sluggy had glossed over that part and that had been alright with Tom. At that time, he hadn't cared about other consorts, wives or children. He was going to curse his father to death and was only interested in information that would get him closer to his end. Now he cared. If his so called father had other children, they would be his siblings. If he had siblings, he'd kill them with a curse. No spawn of Tom Riddle, Sr. deserved to live.

/*/

Feeling like he was on fire, Tom ran from the Chamber like some nutter leaving his diary open and his quill laying beside it. He was going to have a chat with Professor Slughorn before he did anything else.

/*/

Horace was in his quarters eating sugared pineapple and smarting over the fact Albus Dumbledore had not come to his door to discuss what had gone on that morning. He was in charge of Slytherin House which meant he had to stand for Slytherins. However, even as a Slytherin supporter, Horace knew he should have acted differently in the Glover matter. Sighing, he popped another piece of pineapple into his mouth.

Knock! Knock!

Hurriedly summoning a cloth to wipe the sugar from his hands, Horace called out. "Who is it?"

Expecting Albus to answer, Horace was surprised to hear the voice of Tom Riddle. "Hello professor. It's Tom. May I come in?"

"Just what I need." Horace mumbled to himself before inviting Tom in. "Enter Tom."

On the way to Slughorn's quarters, Tom had composed himself knowing his mentor would not disclose anything if he thought his favorite pupil was under duress.

"Hello Tom. Why aren't you….." Horace stopped in mid sentence. Tom wasn't somewhere throwing his weight around because he couldn't. He was under punishment.

Tom ignored the half sentence knowing his professor must have realized what he was about to ask. "As you know, I have some free time. I thought I would come visit my favorite professor. If you aren't busy, may I have a few minutes of your time?"

Horace immediately became wary. When Tom Riddle visited showing his most charming side, he wanted something. "What is it you need Tom? If you'd like, I can give you current and future lessons so you don't fall behind."

Tom Laughed. "Fall behind professor? You have me mixed up with one of the Slytherin dolts. I'm here to discuss Tom Riddle, Sr."

Horace became more than wary. He became frightened knowing no good could come of a conversation about Tom Riddle, Sr. Tom hated the man and had practically jumped for joy when he and his entire family were found murdered. "You may come through Tom, but I believe I've told you all I know about your father."

Tom snapped a reply. "Do not call that man my father. He was a despicable interloper who Merope Gaunt chose as a paramour nothing more."

Horace stared at Tom. "Careful Tom. You may be my star pupil, but you will address me in the proper tone."

Tom apologized immediately before falling back into his charming facade. "Yes sir. Sorry sir. How are you enjoying the pineapple? I hope it wasn't too much."

Nicely done thought Horace. One minute the rude Tom Riddle is snapping out garbage. The next minute he is back to a charming, young wizard looking for information. "No problem Tom. I am enjoying your gift immensely. Thank you. Please take a seat and tell me what's on your mind."

Tom took a seat but took his careful time before answering. He wanted to frame his request just right.

Horace was getting a bit annoyed. Tom had come through his door spitting fire and brimstone looking for information and there he sat like some tongue-tied dunce.

"This is my private time Tom which I hold dear. If you want a chat and I've given you the floor, so to speak, I would think you'd have your request in order."

Tom kept his face composed even though he wanted to glare at Horace Slughorn. Favorite professor or not, old Sluggy better watch himself or someday he'd find his arse on the wrong side of my wand. Tom went back to charming. "Sorry professor. I'd like to revisit something you once told me in passing."

"Something I told you in passing? We've spoken about many things Tom. Please come to the point."

Horace waited for Tom to continue hoping he didn't want to discuss Horcruxes again. It had been a mistake to share that deadly information, and for that, he had regrets. That topic was one that would never be discussed again.

"Yes professor we have. The specific topic refers to the life Tom Riddle, Sr. lived after deserting Merope. You mentioned many paramours, another wife and possibly a child. I'd like to know about those muggles."

"Why Tom? Riddle, Sr. is dead. What's the point of hashing over a dead man's life?"

Tom pinched himself to keep from responding aggressively. "While you are quite correct about Riddle Sr. and his entire family being dead, the point is about knowing if I have siblings."

"Siblings?" Horace asked loudly. "What do you care about siblings Tom? You've said over and over how you hated the man. Why would any muggle children matter to you?

Tom kept his head down while cleaning the nails of his right hand with his left. When he finally looked up, it was with the most innocent of faces. "I don't want any brother of mine locked up in some institution because nobody saw fit to see about him. Please sir. If you have any additional information, I'd like to hear it."

Semantics thought Slughorn. This cunning wizard has more on his mind than saving a brother. What it was, he didn't know. "Let me have a think. I know Riddle, Sr. had several courtships after your mother...Merope most of which were with rich, fit women. However, I do remember hearing he married a lovely woman at some point. As far as children, I'm not sure since the blighter couldn't seem to keep his trousers buttoned for only one witch at a time. I'm reasonably certain I heard that the wife kicked him out then disappeared."

Tom was intrigued. "A woman can't simply disappear. Did she die? What was her name?"

Giving Tom a direct stare, Horace rebuked him. "So many questions Tom. I only have so many answers. Perhaps you would find more satisfactory answers among the detritus at the Riddle House in Little Hangleton when you come of age. Your query can wait until then, can't it?"

Tom gave Horace a brilliant smile showing all his teeth. Why hadn't he thought about searching for information in Little Hangleton? Why had he even bothered Slughorn when the answer to his questions was probably laying somewhere in his grandparent's home. He laughed inside. Grandparents my arse. They were a bunch of filthy muggles, nothing more. However, if he could stand the stench muggles gave off, he could probably find all the information he needed. Tom stood. He had his answer.

"Thank you for your time professor. I'll just go do some studying so I really won't fall behind. Have a good evening."

Horace stood as well. "Good night Tom. Thank you for stopping by."

Watching the door close behind Tom, Horace Slughorn wondered for just one moment if he had over shared sensitive information yet again. That thought passed quickly through his head as he reached for another piece of his sugared delights. After all, what harm could come from Tom Riddle hunting down imaginary siblings?

Horace started across the room looking forward to a small snifter of brandy and a good potions book.

/*/

Tom headed back down to the Chamber to collect his things and put away his diary. He didn't feel the need to vent any longer. He was feeling so much better even if a bit foolish. Any answer he was seeking was probably right where it had fallen after the three deaths. Perhaps he would cloak himself and sneak out of the castle this very evening. Who would stop him? As long as he was at Dumbledore's door Saturday morning for the bloody detention, no one would be the wiser.

Thirty five minutes later, Tom was under a Disillusionment Charm and sneaking out of the Hogwarts gates. As smart as Tom thought he was, Dumbledore was smarter. As Tom went through the gates, Dumbledore felt the wards shake. Although he should have immediately gone to see what had caused the disruption, Albus waved it off thinking Horace and Armando should go check on the whereabouts of their prized student.

Albus knew he was wrong for not checking, but he had been wrong before. The only difference is this time it was intentional.

/*/

Bertie, Jackson and Butters entered the common room and immediately sat down on the couch while Zach, Aiden and Trevor headed directly to their dorm room. The two set of friends each had something to settle.

/*/

As soon as they entered the room, Zach and Trevor both gave Aiden a thump. Zach across the arm and Trevor across the back.

"What?" Aiden asked feigning innocence.

Trevor was quick to respond. "You know what Aiden. We're back in Bertie's' good graces for one minute and you're acting the arse. When Bertie, Butters, or Jackson tell us to do something, we do it."

Aiden answered in a whiny tone. "I was doing what we were told. I simply made a small joke."

Zach sighed. "It was kind of funny, but it was just the wrong time. Next time, wait until we're alone to make fun of something Bertie says."

"Okay, okay. Let's not pull this all out of proportion. It just felt strange to have a wizard watching my rear."

The three mates looked at each other then broke out laughing before going to find the crackers Bertie left them to snack on.

/*/

Somehow, the presence of Bertie, Butters and Jackson had cleared the common room in less than minutes after the three sat down.

"Hahaha. Way to clear a room." Laughed Jackson.

"We have the power." Added Butters.

Bertie leaned back in the big chair. "Alright you jokers. Knock it off and tell me what got the both of you so out of sorts you had to run me down. Why are you even here? I thought the both of you would be out for your walk."

Jackson leaned forward. "One thing at a time mate. Simple things first. By chance, Butters, his date, me and my date accidentally met along the walking trail. Long story short. The witch I was with and Butter's witch thought we were trying to get up to something nasty and left us standing there with our dicks in our hands, so to speak."

"Hahaha. No way. From the way I understood it, you two had a sure thing. Good to know there are witches who won't stand for your bullshite." Bertie remarked, laughing his arse off.

"Yah, so funny. You won't think this next bit is so funny." Added Butters. "We came upon your favorite wizard and his motley gang."

The smile left Bertie's face. "Riddle?"

"Yes Riddle and he was on fire. In fact, he was so pissed he used his wand to throw Malfoy into the Black Lake." Butters continued.

"What? You're shitting me. Riddle threw Malfoy into the lake?"

"He did, and his entire entourage just stood there shaking in their briefs." Offered Jackson.

Bertie wasn't amused. "As funny as it might seem, this has to be reported mates. A student might be dead."

Jackson held up a hand. "Hold on. You haven't heard the rest."

"Do I really want to?" Bertie asked.

"Of course you do. This next part will clear everything up."

Leaning forward to get closer to both his mates, Butters continued where Jackson left off. "This is the best part. While we stood there peering through the bushes at the lot, a very irate Merperson rose out of the water screaming in Mermish and threw Malfoy back onto the ground. It was priceless. The last we saw was Malfoy on bended knee begging his master for forgiveness."

Bertie started laughing. "No fucking way did that happen. You two are so full of shite."

"We're not Bert. Why would we lie?" Butters replied earnestly. "Last part. You wanted to know why we came looking for you all frazzled and shite. We worried that with Riddle on the bloody warpath and you basically on the same warpath things might come to a duel. That's it. That's the whole thing. I think what little punishment that has been meted out to fuckface Riddle has driven him spare. I think I might even have seen a bit of foam on the sides of his mouth."

For several seconds, the three of them looked at each other before bursting out in hysterical laughter.

For them, the Friday that had started out so shitty was ending quite nicely.