Chapter 7
As his uncle was wiggling on the ground in terrible pain, Tom's heart or such as it was, hurt for the snakes and he found himself making small graves for them using magic, naturally. He ended up blasting the hut to pieces, realizing that his ancestors pride on both side made him into himself.
Tom smirked to himself at what the hovel became. It now was a library that boasted even past Hogwarts and the greatest library in England after all it held all his knowledge muggle and magical. He had to admit it was a beautiful sight.
"As for you uncle. Your time as a prideful house of Gaunt has ended. The house of Riddle will take it from here on out. Begone." Tom flicked his hand in dismissal. It was a ugly past, but it wasn't his. He'll make his own way in the world.
At that two things happened, the hazy outlines between souls faded into nothing and the locket that was rightly his appeared on his neck as if new. In the real world, it did the same.
Tom found himself laughing not in a high pitched voice but a joyful one, one that he didn't even recognize, but he did like the green snake decor between all his places.
As for the diary and ring they turned into dust in the outside world. (or at least the diary did. As for the ring, it somehow disappeared.)
At the haziness of Hogwarts, Tom had to groan. He noticed that all but one of his soul fragments were knitted nicely back together but for one. He grimaced. His knowledge for power would come bite him back, as all the dictators of the world knew. Hitler anyone? Or even anyone else for that matter.
Napoleon came to mind. All good example of what not to do as history had their say.
Tom found himself at eleven years old when he opened the door to Hogwarts and slipped inside.
Many miles away, a soul embed snake sniffed the air, noticing a change that her master didn't, and a golden cup in a vault deep underground started to slowly rattle.