AN
More people. They finally let me write in some other characters. Properly. Was that really so hard, Tom?
Year 3 is rather short, but starting with 4th year I'll get to throw metaphorical stones at them, so there's that. And we can't all defeat a Dark Lord every single school-year, now, can we?
September 1940 to June 1941, 3rd year
Naenia watched the pale face of her friend as he had to brace himself against the wall and took slow, measured breaths.
It was only the second time he had to endure Side-Along Apparition, she remembered.
By the time he was well enough to look around and orient himself, Naenia's mother had already bid her farewell and returned home.
Naenia swept her gaze across platform nine and three-quarters. None of the few people already present were paying any attention to them. When she looked back to Tom, he had fully regained his composure, his usual pretence of the humble, polite boy back in place.
He nodded to her and together they made their way across the platform to find themselves a nice compartment. Naenia had to use a feather-light charm on their trunks, because while Tom might have been able to drag them into the train, she certainly didn't. It made things easier and spared him from looking ridiculous. It also helped with storing them away.
"You need to teach me that one," Tom said and so she did.
Half an hour later he nearly managed it flawlessly, though he had only come that far after they had managed to find the right incantation in their school books.
The door to their compartment slid open to reveal Avery and Lestrange. The latter took one look at Naenia, took in her appearance and the undead mink sitting on her shoulder and visibly paled. Avery only spared her a glance and shifted uncomfortably, but didn't let his fear show on his face.
"Riddle, Lémure," he greeted them with a nod. "Might we sit with you?"
Naenia turned to Tom who raised his eyebrows at her. She indicated a shrug and Tom turned to the other two.
"Of course," he said smoothly. "Feel free to join us."
Avery sat down next to Tom, immediately engaging him in a conversation about the new subjects they would be taking this year, leaving Lestrange to sit next to Naenia.
Naenia didn't particularly care about their conversation, so she took out one of her books and started reading. The boy next to her relaxed slightly.
At some point during the ride the other Slytherin boys form their year, Montague, Runcorn and Wilkins, paid them a short visit to say hello (to Tom and the other boys, but propriety made them greet Naenia, too).
Blythe also made an appearance, but didn't have the confidence to actually enter the compartment when she saw who Naenia was sitting with.
By the time they reached Hogsmeade, both Avery and Lestrange had seemingly forgotten about Naenia altogether and lost the last of their tensions around her.
"Made some new friends?" Naenia asked in a low voice on their way to the carriages.
Tom leaned in close to murmur into her ear, his shoulder brushing hers, "I would hardly call them my friends."
Naenia had to stop herself from flinching away. Touch was not something she had experienced very often in her life so far.
Tom didn't seem to notice her discomfort. He watched her greet the Thestrals with a small smile and then offered her a hand to help her enter the carriage like the gentleman he truly wasn't. She actually contemplated ignoring it, but that would be rude.
It was not nice. It wasn't not nice either. Just… foreign. Strange. Something she wasn't used to. Naenia didn't like it.
Though the Welcoming Feast was as luxurious as ever, Naenia ate as little as she always did. Or she intended to. When she was finished with her meal, Tom frowned at her and put another helping of vegetables on her plate. Naenia stared, first at the food, then at Tom who only arched an eyebrow at her.
Naenia raised the fork to her mouth, took a bite, then lowered it again. She hated eating. Food in and of itself was fine, but the actual eating was dreadful. It often made her nauseous, sometimes dizzy as well, and there was nothing she could do against it.
Tom sighed and didn't comment on it.
Naenia paused.
Was that worry she detected in his mannerism? Did he actually care about her health? Absurd. Tom Riddle didn't care about anyone. No, surely it was part of some scheme or another. That had to be it.
Naenia didn't trust Tom to be genuinely caring, didn't trust him in general (and what did that say about their friendship?), but the gesture made her feel appreciated all the same.
Tom's newfound care next presented itself a week later, when one fine Saturday morning the oldest child of the Black family approached her.
As always, Naenia was reading in the common room, waiting for Tom to arrive and these days, she supposed, Avery and Lestrange as well – the two of them usually buttering up to Tom, hoping to gain his favour.
There were currently four of the Black children attending Hogwarts – Orion Black, first year, his second cousin Walburga, fourth year, Orion's elder sister Lucretia, also fourth year, and his elder brother Perseus, fifth year. If Naenia wasn't mistaken, Walburga's younger brother Alphard would attend Hogwarts in one or two years as well.
"Lémure," Perseus Black said to her, "A word?"
With a short nod Naenia closed her book and followed him to a more secluded spot in the common room where Black cast a privacy charm.
"I will come straight to the point," Black said. "Does your family support Gellert Grindelwald?"
Naenia kept her neutral expression intact, despite the bewilderment she actually felt. "No. Of course not. The Lémures have always made a point to stay neutral no matter the conflict."
Black nodded. "But you mother is German, yes?"
"She is." Naenia raised an eyebrow. "What does her being German have to do with any of this?"
"Nothing, nothing, just had to make sure." Black let his gaze sweep across the common room before settling back on Naenia. "The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black –"
Naenia nearly wrinkled her nose at that.
"– extends an offer of courtship to the youngest daughter of the Lémure family."
She froze.
"They what?"
Black gave her a somewhat sympathetic look. "I am as unhappy with this as you are."
Then he shifted his stance and a sliver of apprehension and unease flickered across his face, shattering the illusion.
Naenia ignored the tightness in her chest. "I was under the impression that you were to marry your second cousin Walburga."
"Not anymore. Orion will marry her."
Family issues, probably. Not that it mattered to Naenia.
She hummed non-committally, then shook her head. "I do not intend to marry."
"And you have a choice in that?"
"I do. To an extent." Naenia tilted her head and looked him over. "There are certain conditions that have to be met for anyone to be welcomed into the family."
He was all but squirming under her scrutinizing gaze. Wimp.
"Say," Naenia began with false sweetness. "Have you ever tried your hand at Necromancy."
Black gulped. "N-no?"
"Pity."
Black actually took a step back at that. Naenia had just opened her mouth to continue when a voice interrupted them.
"Is there a problem?"
"Riddle." Black frowned. "What did you do to my privacy charms?"
Tom gave him an innocent smile. "Privacy charms? Oh, I'm sorry – was this supposed to be a private conversation?"
"Yes, it was."
Tom gave Naenia a concerned look, lightly putting a hand on her arm. Naenia just stared at him in return.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"Of course I am."
He smiled and let his hand fall back to his side. "That's good to hear."
It did not reach his eyes. Which was reassuring, as odd as that might have sounded. His smiles never reached his eyes.
Black watched their interaction with narrowed eyes.
He turned to Naenia. "There is more to what we discussed."
She raised her eyebrows at that. "Yes, I am aware."
Black nodded. "You are cordially invited to the annual ball." He glanced at Tom. "We may continue our conversation then."
Black left before Naenia could say another word.
"A ball?" Tom asked curiously.
"Hosted by the House of Black."
He arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Naenia narrowed her eyes at him. "I will not take you with me. Unless you received an invitation yourself?"
Tom scoffed. "From whom?" He looked at her for a while and then sighed. "Fine."
They were late enough for breakfast to be joined by the rest of their housemates instead of only Avery and Lestrange. Neither of which Naenia had ever expected to be early risers, now that she thought about it. They probably weren't.
Naenia would not marry Perseus Black. She had no intention to marry and even if that ever changed – or her family changed their mind about it – it wouldn't be him. Unless he had an aptitude for Necromancy, which Naenia found highly unlikely – and even then, there were still other requirements to be met.
Why did she even have to bother with this? She was thirteen. She was supposed to be an innocent little child. But then again, so was Tom. Neither of them was any good at it.
Ꝋ
Winter went by buried in snow. A lot of snow.
Naenia liked the cold. Most of her classmates did not. They huddled in groups, clad in several layers of thick clothing and fur and house-coloured scarves. Tom seemed to be like that too, because he walked closer to her than usual, brushing shoulders with Naenia ever so often. He didn't own enough clothing to dress as warm as most others did, so Naenia supposed that might have been why.
She was slowly getting used to the light touches. Slowly. So very slowly. She still didn't like it. But she was getting better at tolerating it and the urge to flinch away was getting weaker every time and that was something, at least.
Their private room up on the seventh floor was always warm and cosy these days, with a fire lit in a fireplace that hadn't been there before and many soft blankets.
One Sunday morning in January Tom dragged Naenia, who had been enjoying the quietness of the library to work on some runes, up to the seventh floor, because 'he had to show her something important'.
What he showed her, after they had barely entered the room and sat down, was rather ridiculous, if Naenia were to be honest.
He first wrote his name in the air, using his wand to produce glowing letters, then changed the order of the letters to make 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' into 'I am Lord Voldemort'.
This confirmed three things.
Firstly, that Tom was actually descended from the House of Gaunt and, by extension, Salazar Slytherin himself – if the rumours about the Gaunts were true. She had suspected this ever since he had asked her about his father back in second year and then inquired about Marvolo (and then proceeded to steal her wand). He had never actually told her his full name until now.
Secondly, Tom hated his name – which came as no surprise because it was so very Muggle – and wanted to change it into something… more.
And thirdly, Tom was, frankly speaking, delusional.
He had a dangerous glint in his eyes, when he finally spoke. "Brilliant, isn't it? It means –"
"I know what it means," Naenia interrupted him. "And it is ridiculous. 'Lord Voldemort', really?"
"The 't' is actually silent," Tom said quietly.
Naenia sent him a withering glare.
He didn't bring it up again.
But he still thought about it. She saw it in his face, whenever someone called him by his name, including Naenia herself.
And she could understand his resentment, to an extent. It was his name that had made all the purebloods look down on him in the first place. He was slowly gaining their respect by showing how brilliant he truly was, but it didn't change the fact that he was not pure of blood. Avery, Lestrange and the others were no exception either – trying to gain his favour, but looking down on his blood status at the same time.
"That was amazing," Avery was saying over dinner one day. "The way you transfigured that mouse. That box was so detailed – and you didn't even need to practice!"
Lestrange nodded enthusiastically. Sometimes, Naenia wondered whether that boy could actually think for himself, the way he seemed to just go along with everything Avery did.
"It was nothing special," Tom said.
"But it was!" Avery insisted. "That's why I don't understand why Professor Dumbledore didn't award you any points."
"That's because he hates Slytherin," Lestrange said.
Naenia nearly snorted. The Professor hadn't awarded her any points, either, despite being just as good as Tom. He never awarded them any points, no matter how good they were in his class. The Ravenclaws, meanwhile, received more praise for achieving less. Not that they were bad or anything, just not as good as Tom and Naenia, who had been top of their year consecutively since first year for a reason.
"I simply don't see the point," she said, instead of voicing her thoughts out loud, "of transforming a mouse into a snuffbox."
"Neither do I," Tom said and smiled. "Unnecessary to waste our time on, but we shall continue to humour our Professor, isn't that right?"
Naenia chuckled. "Of course, anything for our 'dear Professor', yes?"
"I don't know anything about Professor Dumbledore being 'dear'," Nott interjected, "but the really useful spells come in fourth year."
Next to him Rosier nodded. "Vanishing and summoning – quite complex, but worth it."
Rosier and Nott were both one year above them and had never really interacted with them so far.
Tom turned to them with an openly curious expression.
What followed next was an extensive discussion about the usefulness of Transfiguration and its various applications.
Mice were used quite often, it seemed. They were transformed into objects, into a different species, or vanished altogether, which, according to Nott, was a rather difficult feat compared to vanishing an inanimate object.
"Poor mice," Naenia said.
Nott glanced at her. "They are but mere animals."
Naenia tilted her head. "Living, breathing beings nonetheless."
He narrowed his eyes at her, but it was Rosier who spoke next, "Do my ears deceive me? A Necromancer caring about all lives?"
"Death is sacred," Naenia simply answered and then decided to steer the conversation back into saver waters. "I wonder what happened to the malformed mouse-boxes from today's lesson."
Avery waved dismissively, "I'm sure the Professor transformed them back right after class ended."
Tom raised an eyebrow. "Why would he bother? They're just some mice. There are more than enough of them wandering the corridors."
"And many getting caught in mousetraps," Naenia added.
The boys looked at her.
Naenia shrugged. "I had to find some dead mice in first year, so I sent Marin looking for mousetraps. There are quite a lot of them scattered around the castle."
Her mink raised its head at the mention of its name and the boys looked at it, their eyes drawn to the motion.
"What did you need dead mice for?" Avery asked, baffled.
Naenia grinned. "Had to put my dormmates into their places."
Their reactions were quite amusing.
Avery stared at her with his mouth hanging open. Lestrange immediately shrank away from her, accidentally bumping his elbow into the table and splattering pumpkin juice all over his plate. Tom just raised an eyebrow, looking somewhat amused. Rosier and Nott only gave her wary looks.
"It's not like I killed them," she continued. "I merely disposed of them before the caretaker had to."
Only Tom laughed at that.
AN
Anyone else found that name ridiculous? 'Lord Voldemort' – and that guy actually wants to be taken seriously?
Also, imagine little Tom sitting down and rearranging the letters of his name to find an anagram that actually sounds cool (to him, anyway). Oh, well…