"One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious."
Carl Jung
VI
Surrounded by overgrown weeds and wilted flowers, the two Slytherin orphans wandered in the garden of Wool's orphanage. They had found a secret spot where they could study their Hogwarts textbooks undisturbed by the other children. The magical school felt more like a home to them than the dismal orphanage.
Suddenly, a loud siren wailed outside, accompanied by a voice on a loudspeaker.
"Attention, attention! This is an air raid warning. All residents must proceed to the basement immediately. Repeat, this is an air raid warning. All residents must proceed to the basement immediately."
Hermione and Tom exchanged a fearful and annoyed glance. They understood the implications. It meant that the war was drawing nearer, that German bombers were flying over London, and that they had to abandon their books and belongings to join the rest of the orphans in the cramped and dark basement. It meant confronting the harsh reality of the world they inhabited, a world torn apart by violence and hatred.
They hastily gathered their belongings and stuffed them into their bags, determined not to lose their precious books, their sole connection to the wizarding world. Hurriedly descending the stairs, they maneuvered to avoid the other children who jostled and pushed their way towards the basement. They knew that most of the orphans disliked them, considering them strange and different. The two had learned to keep to themselves, to conceal their magic, and to feign normalcy.
Upon reaching the basement door, they encountered a group of older boys blocking their path. One of them, a tall and thin boy with a sneer etched on his face, stepped forward and snatched Hermione's bag.
"Hey, look what we've got here. The freaks and their books. What do you think they have in there, eh? Maybe some spells and potions?"
He opened Hermione's bag and pulled out one of her textbooks. Mockingly, he read the title aloud.
"Hogwarts: A History. What a load of rubbish. What even is Hogwarts? Some sort of school for freaks like you? Do you honestly believe you're going to some fancy place where you can wave your wands and make things happen? You're delusional, utterly delusional. You're nothing but a bunch of orphans, and you'll forever be nothing."
The boy flung the book to the ground and stomped on it, chuckling. Hermione gasped and attempted to retrieve it, but the the older orphan pushed her away.
"Leave her alone, you filthy little worm!" Tom shouted, his eyes ablaze with anger. He lunged at the boy, tackling him to the ground and delivering a punch that drew blood. The other boys joined the fray, trying to pull Riddle off their comrade. Hermione endeavored to assist Tom, but she was outnumbered and overpowered. A fist struck her in the stomach, causing her to lose her breath. She collapsed to the floor, clutching her bag.
"Stop it, stop it, all of you!" Mrs. Cole, the matron of the orphanage, yelled as she rushed down the stairs. The sight before her was one of chaos and violence, and her face flushed with anger. She grabbed a wooden stick and began striking the boys, desperately trying to break up the fight.
"Enough, enough! How dare you behave like this? Don't you realize we're in danger?"
Her gaze shifted to Hermione and Tom, who lay on the floor, bruised and battered. She shook her head in disgust.
"And you two, you're the worst of them all. Always causing trouble, acting strange, and keeping secrets. You think you're special, don't you? Well, let me tell you something. You're not special. You better learn to behave, or else you'll regret it. Now get up and get in the basement before I give you a taste of my stick."
She flung open the basement door and forcefully shoved them inside, slamming it shut behind them. Hermione and Tom stumbled into the dark and cramped room, joining the frightened and hungry orphans huddled together. They found a corner where they could sit and catch their breath.
As the two friends looked at each other, pain and frustration filled their eyes. The wailing siren and distant sound of bombs echoed in their ears. They wondered if they would ever see Hogwarts again, or if they would even survive the night.
All at once, a deafening explosion rocked the entire building. The lights went out, and the air filled with the shattering of glass and splintering of wood. They exchanged shocked and fearful glances, questioning what had just occurred. Upstairs, screams and cries pierced the air, while the scent of smoke and fire reached their noses.
"Tom, what was that?" Hermione asked, gripping his arm tightly.
"I don't know, Mia. Maybe a bomb. Come on, we need to get out of here," he replied, seizing her hand and pulling her towards the stairs.
They navigated through the dark and dusty basement, carefully avoiding fallen debris and broken furniture. Upon reaching the door, they tried to open it, only to find it locked. They pounded on it and called out for help, but their cries went unanswered. They were trapped.
Surveying their surroundings, the two friends noticed other orphans who had been in the basement with them. Some were injured, some were sobbing, and others were in a state of shock. All wore expressions of terror and helplessness.
"Mrs. Cole! Mrs. Cole! Where are you?" Hermione called out, desperately hoping the matron would come to their rescue.
"Shh, Mia. Don't make too much noise. We don't know who did this. They might be searching for us," Tom muttered, pulling her closer.
He enveloped her in his arms, attempting to calm her trembling form. The wizard felt her tears and sensed her fear. A wave of sympathy washed over him, accompanied by an unfamiliar warmth in his chest. Riddle had never experienced these emotions before. Previously, he had been cold, distant, and sometimes cruel to the other orphans. However, Hermione was different. She possessed intelligence, courage, and kindness. She was his only friend.
Kissing her forehead, he whispered in her ear, "Don't worry, Mia. We'll be okay. I'll protect you. I'll always protect you."
The two orphans remained in that embrace for a while, until the sound of footsteps on the stairs snapped them back to reality. They glanced upward, spotting a man in uniform wielding a flashlight and a gun. Relief and pity mingled in his eyes as he surveyed the scene.
"Thank goodness you're alive. Come on, kids, let's get you out of here," he said, guiding them out of the basement.
"What are you two doing here?" Mrs. Cole snapped. "Didn't you hear the alarm? There's been a bombing. We have to evacuate."
She unlocked the door and ushered them out. They followed her up the stairs, where they discovered the other orphans gathered in the hallway. Some were weeping, others silent, and a few were injured. The matron counted heads, ensuring that all were accounted for.
"Listen up, children," she declared. "We must remain calm and stick together. The police and firemen are here to assist us. They will take us to a safe location. Do you understand?"
The orphans nodded, though doubt still lingered in their eyes. Fear and confusion enveloped them. They were unaware of the events unfolding or their significance.
Hermione and Tom clasped hands as they exited the building. Outside, chaos reigned. The street was shrouded in smoke, littered with rubble and stained with blood. The synagogue nearby lay in ruins, reduced to a pile of ashes. Bodies, some covered by blankets and others not, dotted the streets. They recognized a few of the fallen, causing sickness and sorrow to wash over them.
Boarding a bus, they were transported to a nearby school where blankets and food were provided. They slept on the gym floor, alongside the other orphans. Still, rest eluded them as nightmares of fire and death plagued their minds.
The following morning, they awoke to the news that the bombing had been an act of terrorism. Extremists had targeted the Jewish community, claiming them as enemies of God. Dozens had lost their lives, and hundreds more were injured.
As the Nazi-led war raged on, a cloud of fear hung heavy in the air. Every night, the wailing sirens served as a chilling reminder that danger loomed, prompting a frantic rush to the underground shelter. In the darkness of the shelter, eyes met with shared apprehension, as they feared the next bomb could obliterate their world.
Hermione's hand instinctively sought Tom's. Their fingers intertwined, clinging to one another with a desperate urgency born of shared fear. It was in these moments of vulnerability and shared dread that their bond deepened, an unspoken promise of support.
"Another night, Tom. I can't bear it," Hermione confessed one night with a heavy heart.
He nodded in agreement, his expression reflecting her dread. "I know, Mia. I wish we could be back at Hogwarts, where we at least have the protection of the castle."
Holding hands, their situation pressed down on them, and the distant rumbling of planes overhead only increased their anxiety.
With the approach of their fourth year at the magical school, both orphans had earned a reputation as exceptional students. Their academic achievements had not only garnered the respect of their teachers but also made them stand out among their peers.
As the first signs of autumn painted the Scottish landscape with shades of crimson and gold, it seemed that the world beyond the castle's towering walls had grown darker and more uncertain, and that darkness had found its way within. The escalating violence, both in the muggle world and due to the actions of the dark wizard Grindelwald served to intensify the fears of Hogwarts students.
Hermione and Tom, however, harbored even more doubts about the level of protection offered by Hogwarts' wards. They had witnessed firsthand the devastation of war, with countless children arriving at Wool's Orphanage from Britain and mainland Europe, seeking refuge from the turmoil.
The Great Hall was filled with the usual chatter and laughter of students enjoying their breakfast, unaware of the horror that was about to unfold. Suddenly, the doors swung open and Headmaster Dippet entered, carrying the limp body of a young girl in his arms. Her skin was pale and her eyes were wide open, but she showed no signs of life.
A hush fell over the hall as everyone stared at the dreadful sight. Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, rushed to Dippet's side and gasped.
"Who is she? What happened to her?" she inquired, taking the girl from his arms and laying her on a nearby table.
"She's Amira Davies, a fifth year Ravenclaw," Dippet replied, his voice trembling. "She was found in the second floor corridor, petrified by some unknown force. And look at this." He held up a piece of parchment with a message written in blood-red ink:
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.
Madam Pomfrey shuddered and looked around for help. She spotted Professor Slughorn, the Potions master, and Professor Dumbledore, the Transfiguration teacher, sitting at the staff table. She waved at them frantically.
"Horace, Albus, please come here. I need your assistance. This is a case of petrification, and I don't know how to reverse it," she implored.
Slughorn and Dumbledore got up from their seats and walked over to the table, followed by the curious eyes of the students. They examined the girl and the message, exchanging worried glances.
"This is very serious, indeed," Slughorn remarked, stroking his walrus-like mustache. "I've never seen anything like this before. How could someone petrify a student in broad daylight?"
"I don't know, Horace, but I fear this is only the beginning," Dumbledore observed, his blue eyes twinkling with a hint of sadness. "This message suggests that someone has opened the legendary Chamber of Secrets, and unleashed the monster that dwells within. A monster that can only be controlled by the heir of Salazar Slytherin, the founder of this house." He pointed at the green and silver banners of the Slytherin table.
A murmur of shock and fear spread among the students, especially the ones from Slytherin. They looked at each other with suspicion and dread, wondering who among them could be the heir of Slytherin.
Hermione felt a surge of panic, knowing that she could be a target of the heir of Slytherin, as she was not a pure-blood.
Abraxas Malfoy broke the silence with a loud and cruel laugh.
"Well, well, well, it seems that the monster of Slytherin is after the filth that pollutes this school," he taunted, looking at Hermione with contempt. "I say, good riddance. Maybe now we can have some peace and quiet."
With a furrowed brow and a dismissive gesture, Cassiopeia Black expressed her displeasure and disagreement.
"Don't be an idiot, Abraxas. The girl who was petrified was a pureblood, too. Amira Davies, remember? She was in our Divination class. She was a Ravenclaw, but she was one of us. This doesn't make sense. Why would the heir of Slytherin attack a pureblood?" she questioned.
Malfoy lifted his shoulders in a gesture of indifference and curled his lips in a scornful expression.
"Maybe she was a traitor, or a mudblood lover. Or maybe the monster just doesn't care. It's a beast, after all. It doesn't have a brain, or a heart. It only has a hunger, a hunger for blood."
Hermione and Tom exchanged a glance, feeling a mix of fear and curiosity. They decided to gather more information about the Chamber of Secrets and the heir of Slytherin. Excusing themselves from the table, they made their way to the library, hoping to find answers.
Tom settled into a corner, engrossed in a thick book titled "The Four Founders of Hogwarts: A Legacy." The only source of light came from the flickering candles on the wooden tables. His focus was on Slytherin, the founder of his own house, known for being cunning, ambitious, and powerful. Riddle wanted to dig deeper into Slytherin's history and the mysterious heir who was rumored to have opened the Chamber of Secrets and unleashed a dangerous creature on the school.
Unbeknownst to Tom, Hermione approached him from behind, carrying a heavy and ancient-looking tome. Her face was filled with curiosity and excitement, as if she had stumbled upon a significant discovery. Tapping him on the shoulder, she whispered, "Tom, I need to show you something."
Riddle looked at her irritably, not fond of being disturbed even by his best friend. "What is it, Mia?" he snapped.
Ignoring his tone, the witch opened the book she carried, titled "The Pureblood Directory: A Comprehensive Guide to the Noble and Most Ancient Houses of the Wizarding World." Flipping through its pages, she finally found what she was searching for. Pointing at a name and picture, she caught Tom's attention.
"Look, this is Marvolo Gaunt," she explained. "He was the last known descendant of Salazar Slytherin. Marvolo lived in a shack with his two children, Merope and Morfin. They were impoverished and inbred, with an intense fixation on their bloodline."
Riddle muttered, feigning disinterest, "Ok, but what does this have to do with me?"
With a triumphant smile, Hermione retrieved an old, yellowed newspaper from her bag. The headline read "Gaunt Family Sent to Azkaban." She pointed at another picture and continued, "This is Morfin Gaunt, Marvolo's son. He was a violent and unstable wizard who took pleasure in torturing muggles. The Ministry of Magic arrested him after he attacked a muggle named Thomas Riddle Jr., claiming that Riddle had stolen his sister, Merope. Morfin cursed Riddle and left him for dead, but Riddle survived and reported him to the authorities. Both Morfin and Marvolo were sentenced to life in Azkaban."
Tom felt a surge of shock and anger. He recognized the name Thomas Riddle Jr., his own name inherited from his father. He had always believed his father to be a wizard who had left him and his mother for a noble cause. Never had he imagined that his father was a muggle, married to a squib, and had abandoned them in a wretched muggle orphanage. Disgust and resentment overwhelmed him towards his deceitful parents and his betrayed heritage.
Trembling with emotion, the wizard continued reading the article aloud. "Merope Gaunt, Marvolo's daughter, was found in a muggle orphanage in London. She gave birth to a baby boy before passing away, never revealing the name or whereabouts of the father. The fate of the child and whether he inherited any magical abilities remains unknown."
Tom clenched his fists, tearing the newspaper from Hermione's hands and crumpling it before throwing it to the floor. A surge of rage and hatred coursed through him towards his parents, his family, and his heritage. He felt cheated and robbed of his rightful place in the world, as if he had nothing to be proud of, nothing to belong to, and nothing to live for.
Glaring at Hermione, he saw pity and sympathy in her eyes. When she reached out to touch his arm, he jerked away. "Tom, I'm sorry," she murmured. "I understand this must be difficult, but you have to realize that your bloodline doesn't define you. You are still an exceptional wizard and an incredible person."
Riddle snorted, feeling nothing but contempt and scorn for Hermione's belief in goodness and happiness. He stood up, clutching his book, and sneered at her. "Save your pity, Granger," he hissed. "You know nothing about me."
Without looking back, he walked away, heading towards the Slytherin common room, leaving Hermione stunned and speechless.