January to June 1939, 1st year
"Happy Birthday," Naenia said, precisely one day after his actual birthday. She didn't even have a present for him.
To be fair, Naenia had never given Tom a birthday present, nor had he ever given her one in return. He had also neglected to wish her a Happy Birthday this year – or last year, technically – because he had been focused on more important matters at the time. (And it had had nothing to do with his envy of her position, not at all.)
"I do have something for you, actually," Naenia said as if she had been reading his thoughts. "A birthday present, if you will, but in the form of information."
"Oh?" Tom arched an eyebrow enquiringly.
Naenia smiled at him sweetly. "Have you ever heard about the Chamber of Secrets?"
"It is mentioned in Hogwarts: A History. Supposedly, Salazar Slytherin constructed this chamber deep beneath the school and sealed it so that only his true heir may open it to release the horror within." Tom curled his lips in distaste. "A horror to purge the school of those 'unworthy' of studying magic."
Naenia hummed. "I know what you are thinking – after all, Slytherin was widely known for his belief that those from non-magical families should not be allowed to attend Hogwarts. But whether that is true or something exaggerated over time, we will never know. It is likely to be the truth, considering the time period the four founders were born in – it is perfectly natural to be wary of those hailing from the very people that are persecuting you for being different."
"So, what about this 'Chamber of Secrets'?" Tom asked, directing her back to their initial topic.
Naenia wordlessly handed him a scroll.
Tom slowly unrolled it to reveal a family tree, starting with Salazar Slytherin at the top and branching out to the families that descended from his line. Naenia had not continued with most of them, only marked them with notes like 'currently residing in America' and 'extinct in the male line, but most likely continued in the female line'. At the bottom of the scroll was the Gaunt family.
Tom couldn't help but stare at the names written there.
'Marvolo Gaunt' it said and underneath that 'Morfin Gaunt' and 'Merope Gaunt'. All three were marked as dead, though only Marvolo and Morfin had confirmed dates of death.
He traced the names with his fingers. His own middle name was Marvolo – 'after his grandfather' his mother had supposedly said on the day of his birth. The goblins of Gringotts had confirmed his direct ties to the Gaunt family through his mother. Then that must mean –
"My mother was Merope Gaunt."
"I did not trouble myself with tracking her down, but it is highly probable that some digging would prove she ended up disappearing in London before she was declared 'presumably dead'."
"So I –" Tom licked his lips, before looking up at Naenia. "I am Slytherin's heir."
Naenia smiled. "Yes. One of them, anyway. Certainly one with the right ability to open the Chamber."
"What do you –"
Naenia raised an eyebrow at him.
"Snakes," Tom said.
"Snakes," Naenia agreed.
Tom turned the idea over in his head for a while. "Slytherin left a horror within the Chamber to purge the school." Tom doubted Naenia wanted him to open the Chamber to do precisely that. Neither of them had any intentions to kill the muggle-borns and leave only the arrogant pure-blood pricks and perhaps the half-bloods left.
"A magical beast, most likely," Naenia said.
Tom sighed. "You only want me to open the Chamber so you can learn what kind of monster it is, don't you?"
"Of course, I do."
"… Don't tell me you already know what it is."
Naenia grinned. "I might, perhaps, have an idea. Considering that this is Salazar Slytherin's monster, famous Parselmouth and lover of snakes and someone who likely did not import a magical beast from another continent, there really isn't much of a choice."
Tom looked at her expectantly.
"An Ashwinder is unlikely due to its fiery nature – an underground chamber is more likely to be wet or might even be directly connected to the Great Lake. Horned Serpents and Runespoors are native to North America and Africa respectively. Hydras are said to be extinct. That leaves us with a Basilisk."
"A Basilisk," Tom murmured. "You would like that, wouldn't you?"
"Very much so," Naenia said, her eyes shining with excitement.
Of course. Basilisks were creatures of Death, after all. Or, at the very least, they possessed some kind of Death Magic within their eyes.
He sighed. "Very well, then. I shall find this Chamber of Secrets and see what I will find within. I might even show it to you, if I'm feeling generous."
Naenia grinned at him. "Lovely. I'm sure you'll enjoy the search as much as the satisfaction in assuming the title of 'Slytherin's Heir'."
"It certainly has a better ring to it than 'Heir to the disgraced House of Gaunt'," Tom said dryly.
⸸
Tom did not find the Chamber of Secrets over the course of the next few months. This was not surprising as he neither had the time nor resources to properly dedicate himself to the search. But it remained a side-project he liked to indulge in whenever he could. His (revised) plan to assert himself as the utmost person deserving of everyone's respect was slowly taking shape and his ambitions of maintaining the top spot at every class required a lot of studying both in theoretical aspects and practical applications.
Among the teachers, he was already known as both a dedicated student and a prodigy and rewarded highly for it – with the sole exception of one Albus Dumbledore. The man continued to keep an awfully close eye on Tom despite Tom's best efforts to maintain a flawless mask of perfect behaviour around him and every other member of staff.
As Naenia had predicted, Dumbledore's opinion of the two of them remained set in his initial impression of them. The admiration the man inspired in everyone around them was something that solidified Tom's belief that they were all just a bunch of idiots. A person who made up heir mind before even meeting a pair of children and was from then on unwilling to change their view of them even when they gave them no reason to believe anything but the best was not worthy of admiration. Yes, both Tom and Naenia were in truth the complete opposite to what Albus Dumbledore perceived to be 'good', but if the man was unwilling to believe they actually could be good nor offered to help them better themselves … There really was no helping it.
In the end, what harm could one single man cause when he stood against literally everyone else?
(A lot, actually. Albus Dumbledore was a man of influence, a man with connections, a man who inspired admiration and respect. Goodness, how Tom despised that man.)
While Dumbledore had certainly no plans to help Tom and Naenia better themselves, he did try to meddle with their affairs.
As Tom would later learn, inviting people to tea was Albus Dumbledore's preferred method for most things – to admonish troublemakers, to praise students and potentially loyal sheep, to assess threats to his schemes and (if possible) eliminate their potential of endangering his plans, to manipulate both allies and foes into becoming his pawns.
Obviously, the man was also acting behind the scenes – letting little things drop here and there in conversations to slowly turn the opinions of others into directions favourable to him, working hard on whatever he was scheming to maintain his peaceful little world, …
If Tom was being honest with himself, he had to admit that he did not quite know to what extent Albus Dumbledore was actively scheming and what was merely something the man did subconsciously without even noticing – nor did Tom know what the man's true motivations and goals were. It did not matter, at this point, but Tom was aware that he and Albus Dumbledore would come to oppose each other openly one day for sure.
Tom was – probably overthinking everything and seeing a master manipulator in a man that was merely misguided in his view of him – and Naenia – and honestly trying to help them become better people – or what he thought of as 'better', anyway.
Why would a master manipulator turn down the offer to become Minister for Magic and instead teach children at a school? (Where he had access to every future generation of the magical world.) Why would a master manipulator sit back and watch a Dark Lord gain power and followers in Europe, so close to his own home, and instead teach children at a school? (Where he could safely assess the situation from afar, gathering intel through all the little spies he had raised, and decide whether he actually needed to step in or if there wasn't someone with the potential of becoming a hero-slash-martyr to send to the front instead.)
(… Now he really was overthinking everything.)
The tea was lovely and probably not laced with poison. Or a potion. Probably.
(He didn't touch the biscuits.)
"I have been meaning to ask after you two," Dumbledore said warmly. "But things have been quite busy."
"Understandably so, sir," Tom replied politely.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at him. It should have been irritating – and it was, truly maddening – but Tom felt more unsettled than anything else. Twinkling eyes were not allowed to look so piercing at the same time.
"I have heard many good things about the both of you," Dumbledore said. "You seem to be doing exceptionally well in all of your classes. But how have you been adjusting among your peers? It must have been quite overwhelming to suddenly find yourselves in this new and exciting world." He glanced briefly at Naenia, before focusing most of his attention back on Tom.
"We are slowly becoming more and more acquainted with our fellow classmates," Tom said carefully.
From the way the man paused, Tom could tell that his answer hadn't been very satisfactory. Still, Dumbledore smiled at him over the rim of his half-moon spectacles and said, "I am glad to hear that." Then he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I have heard nothing but good things about you, Tom. Your classmates all seem to admire you for how well-mannered and knowledgeable you are."
Tom decided to remain silent and merely inclined his head, his gaze averted from that piercing stare, while watching the man carefully out of the corner of his eyes.
Dumbledore glanced at Naenia again, though he did not turn to fully face her. "Miss Totengraber, on the other hand …"
Naenia, for her part, regarded Dumbledore with polite curiosity – most likely faked – and said nothing. She didn't even twitch at the way Dumbledore mispronounced her last name the way she usually did.
(Naenia never corrected anyone, but Tom always noticed the brief flash of irritation in her eyes. Tom was probably the only one who had bothered to learn how to say it correctly and Tom never had to actually use it.)
"I understand that you might find it hard to connect with other children your age," Dumbledore continued eventually. "If there is anything I can do to help …"
Naenia raised her cup of tea and took a long sip, seemingly considering his words. She only replied when she had finally sat her cup back down on its saucer with a faint clink. "Thank you for the offer, sir."
"As your professor, it is my responsibility to look out for you."
Technically, this was more so the responsibility of their Head of House Slytherin, Professor Slughorn, rather than that of the Head of their rivalling House Gryffindor.
Technically, none of their teachers actually qualified as teachers, having never undergone any proper training, and certainly shouldn't call themselves 'professors'. Naenia and Tom certainly never called them by that title, always referring to them as 'sir' or 'ma'am'.
"I hope it is not due to your … unusual upbringing that you find yourself unable to form meaningful connections with your peers."
"Of course not, sir," Naenia said in a warm tone, her expression open and neutral, gazing down at the cup of tea cradled in her hands in perfect imitation of a sincere and demure little girl.
Tom suspected she would have even smiled warmly, had she been able to actually pull it off without the smile looking out of place. From what Tom had observed over the years, it did not seem to matter whether her smiles were truly genuine or not – they always seemed somehow off. He often wondered whether that was something all Necromancers had in common or one of Naenia's personal quirks.
Tom knew Naenia was perfectly aware that Dumbledore did not believe her to be sincere. He even suspected Naenia specifically acted this way to perturb the man as much as possible.
Watching Naenia look up at Dumbledore from underneath her lashes, Tom privately couldn't help but admire her boldness. (He secretly wondered whether she was meeting the man's eyes directly or only pretending to.) She was willingly making an enemy out of this powerful and influential person. Tom couldn't even be annoyed at her for partially foiling his own tries to appease the man as much as possible and, hopefully, lessen the scrutiny with which Dumbledore always regarded him with.
"I am very happy to have found a good friend in Theobald Nott," Naenia continued. "And, of course, I still have Tom."
"What of the other girls in your year?" Dumbledore asked. "Would their companionship not provide you with the opportunity to share conversations you might be unable to have with others?"
"Ah, Professor," Naenia said, emphasising the word in a way that would have made anyone believe she actually thought the man deserved the title, "Such things are not spoken about in polite company."
Tom was fairly sure Dumbledore had not meant to imply what Naenia was talking about and Naenia knew that.
"We are in Slytherin House all of a higher social standing compared to our fellow classmates from Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor," Naenia continued.
Gryffindor most of all, Tom thought.
"We have responsibilities to upkeep, befitting our status – and young ladies especially so. Besides, most people are less inclined to keep my company considering what family I descend from – and understandably so."
"Did you contact your family, then?" Dumbledore asked and Tom was surprised he did not mask his wariness.
Naenia smiled – the first time during their entire conversation and it was a sharp little thing that fit her better than any warm and gentle smile would have – and did not say another word.
When all the necessary empty pleasantries had been exchanged and Naenia and Tom were released to return to their dormitories, Tom was left feeling torn about being glad Dumbledore had concentrated more on Naenia and her unwillingness to cooperate (especially when it came to all the hints the man had dropped about leaving the path of Necromancy behind) – and being worried that Naenia's behaviour had most definitely not put Tom, himself, in any better light in the old man's eyes. Dumbledore was a danger to all of Tom's plans and their relationship was bad enough as it was. Then again, Tom doubted they could ever be on good terms at all. It was just not possible.
"I wish I could report him," Naenia muttered on their way back to the dungeons.
"Report him?" Tom asked.
Naenia glanced at him, then shrugged. "There is no proof and his reputation is that of a kind and wise old man. No one would believe someone like me claiming Albus Dumbledore of all people was using Legilimentik on his students. Or trying to, anyway. Ah, but such a powerful wizard can no doubt use such advanced powerful magic even without maintaining eye contact."
All of a sudden, Tom felt cold dread running down his spine. "Leggillimentic?"
Naenia tilted her head. "Legilimency, perhaps? It is derived from Latin, so it should be just about the same in English. Okklumentik would be 'Occlumency', then. I do not know much about either other than what I barely remember from my family's teachings and what Theo has mentioned in passing. But it isn't hard to recognise foreign magic intruding on your own mind and that is precisely what Legilimentik does."
"Mind Magic?"
"Yes, do keep up."
Tom gaped at her, his mind reeling. Mind Magic existed. Someone could intrude on your mind and you might never know – they could read your thoughts, your memories, possibly even control them. He remembered that day in the orphanage – how the old wizard had seemed to know. He had known what Tom had been keeping in his wardrobe. He had known how Tom had come to possess those items. And then, earlier that day in his office, that piercing stare. Dumbledore had – he had –
"Tom?"
"Excuse me," Tom bit out and then turned on his heel, changing directions towards the library.
Naenia did not follow him, but he did not care. He had important research to do.
⸸
"You could have just asked," Naenia said, after she had dropped a book in his lap detailing all the things he had been unable to find about Legilimency in the library. (Tom suspected Naenia had stolen the book from somewhere or someone, most likely Nott.)
Tom only found the words to answer after he had been staring at the book for far too long. "I didn't think you would be willing to give me the answers I sought."
Naenia raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed.
"… I didn't think the answers you would give me were going to be enough to satisfy my curiosity and I didn't want to have to admit that."
"Didn't seem so hard for you to do so just now," Naenia remarked.
Tom averted his eyes, refraining from grumbling under his breath. "You tend to gloss over the most intriguing pieces of information and move on as if they weren't of life-changing importance at all."
"Life-changing importance," Naenia repeated.
"People rummaging through your mind as they please is no trivial matter, Naenia."
Naenia tilted her head, seemingly thinking his words over. Then she hummed to herself. "It does sound rather problematic."
"You were the one who pointed out that Dumbledore should be reported for doing exactly that."
Naenia hummed again. "I suppose."
Tom couldn't help but stare at his friend. "Did someone mess with your head?"
"Funny," Naenia said dryly, but then her lips formed a familiar smirk. "I greatly dislike like our dear Professor Dumbledore, the goodie two-shoes hypocrite. Performing Legilimentik on his students is the sort of thing – if it can be proven to be true – that would get him into a lot of trouble."
"But you do not care about the act itself."
"It doesn't matter, in the end," Naenia said with a shrug.
"Why?" Tom asked sharply. "Please explain that to me, Naenia."
"Because that sort of magic opens up a connection. Tom, you witnessed first-hand what opportunities such a connection would open up for me."
"You –" He took a deep breath, then another. "You allowed Dumbledore to enter your mind so that you could access his life-force without having to touch him?"
"Aren't you a clever little thing?" Naenia murmured. (As if she wasn't actually smaller than Tom.) "We call it the thread that tethers you to life. But, essentially, you figured it out."
"How does that even work?"
"I am not going to explain Necromancy to you, Tom."
"That is not what I meant to ask after."
Naenia paused for a moment, her expression considering – as if she was choosing her words carefully. "I suppose you might find that touching up on what I taught you about sensing magic and traces thereof could potentially help you figure it out on your own."
"I see," Tom said slowly. And then, because he truly did not want to actually annoy Naenia, he added a soft, "Thank you."
AN
Tom proving to be a truly Unreliable Narrator in this chapter – he even contradicts himself at least once.