Chapter Eleven: Afterglow

Tom stared out the window of the Hogwarts Express at the snow blanketing the British countryside. He had found a private compartment on the train where he could be alone the entire journey, as he had much thinking to do about the week he had spent at The Burrow.

On the night of Christmas, he had arrived at the rickety old country home in the company of Arthur, the Weasley brothers and Harry Potter.

"Hermione couldn't make it?" Molly Weasley had asked Ron when they had entered the house.

Ron's face had gone red with embarrassment and Harry had chimed in to make Hermione's excuses. Tom knew from the boys' banter on the train that Hermione had opted to stay at Hogwarts on account of the bad terms she and Ron were on, and that she had taken the opportunity to spend more time with Viktor Krum. Ron seemed tied up in knots about it, but it was all the same to Tom—even better in a way, because he did not have to share Ginny's bedroom with anybody.

The vacation had begun about as he'd expected, with the tedious opening of presents and the overbearing nature of Mrs. Weasley's incessant offers of pastries and tea.

It hadn't all been bad. The food had been surprisingly good—the home cooked meals were a nice change of pace from the Hogwarts fare. The animals of The Burrow had been interesting too. There were cats, rabbits, turtles and egg-laying chickens, benign creatures that had no pesky agendas to worry about—they made for pleasant company actually, as their behavior was entertaining to observe.

After supper, the nine of them—Arthur, Molly, Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Ron, Harry and Tom had gathered at the dining table for an activity. (Percy Weasley had been absent as he was celebrating Christmas with his boss, Barty Crouch Sr.)

Arthur had taken out a muggle board game he had brought home from his office and comically attempted in vain to explain the rules, only for Harry to take over and teach everyone, as the boy-who-lived understood muggle things the best.

Tom had never played it before, but once he understood the game's mechanics, he was able to devise a strategy that coasted him to victory. In his experience, people were usually sore when Tom Riddle beat them at games, but to his surprise, the Weasleys had joyfully celebrated Ginny's win. Perhaps his victory gave them hope for Ginny's recovery from the supposed memory loss—but even if that were the case, it was still nice to have others share in the satisfaction, rather than accuse him of cheating or vow never to play with him again.

After the board game, he enjoyed a warm bath, brushed his teeth and then went to Ginny's room. It was small, but cozy. The window overlooked the family's orchard—it was not a bad view. There was a large poster of a wizarding band on one wall, and a picture of a professional female Quidditch player on the other. It contrasted with the stark, bleak walls of his room at the orphanage, where Tom never had any decor.

After he had crawled into bed, Mrs. Weasley had entered and had sat beside him. She hummed a gentle, hypnotic lullaby and tucked Tom under the covers. Then she leaned over and kissed his forehead, and for some strange reason, Tom had been far too relaxed to mind it the way he normally might have. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep.

For the rest of his stay at The Burrow, time felt like it had been on pause. There had been no classes, no chores expected of him, no urgency to anything—just endless meals and games. His mind, usually embroiled in schemes, had quieted down. As a result, his sleep quality had begun to improve.

For the first time in his life, Tom had finally understood the appeal of family. It had always been an intangible concept other wizards incessantly prattled on about that he had never been able to wrap his head around. But he was beginning to see how someone might find a measure of satisfaction in life that didn't entirely revolve around amassing wealth and power.

His time at the Burrow had left him feeling refreshed—but also confused. He was unsettled by the changes he was feeling, and the new perspective on life he was contemplating.

Molly had offered him the opportunity to stay at the Burrow through the remainder of the school term. To Tom's surprise, a part of him had wanted to accept. But before he could decide— almost on cue—a letter had arrived for Molly and Arthur from Dumbledore, and whatever advice it contained, the Weasley parents had followed it and decided to bring him back to King's Cross Station with the others at the start of the new year.

Tom wasn't sure if he would have decided to stay or not, but he was sure of one thing—he liked being Ginny.

He liked being part of a family.

As the train rode by the side of a frozen lake, Tom's thoughts turned to Dumbledore, the man who must have known exactly what he was doing when he had sent Tom to the Burrow.

Why had Dumbledore done this to me?

What was the real reason Dumlbedore had made him spend the holidays at the Weasleys? Had Dumbledore known that Tom would grow attached? Was it meant to weaken him, to soften him up with sentimentality? Or was it to torture him, to dangle a tantilizing vision of normalcy before him only to take it all away when he transplanted him to the dementor-kissed body?

Could Dumbledore be so cruel?

Tom was struck with the terrifying prospect of having to start life from scratch all over again in the body of some outcast criminal, a wizard with no family, no parents—not even the Hogwarts community to be a part of anymore. Meanwhile, Ginny Weasley would get her body back and return to enjoying the life that Tom had just grown accustomed to.

He couldn't accept that.

Tom breathed faster, anger building inside of him with every passing moment on the train. Were he to go through with Dumbledore's plan, he would lose everything that Ginny had. There was only one way to prevent that from happening.

I have to kill Dumbledore.

Dumbledore was the only one who knew his secret. If Dumbledore died, the truth would die with him and Tom would get to go on being Ginny with no one the wiser.

Tom had no doubt Dumbledore would have made contingencies against a move like that. Perhaps the Headmaster had safeguarded his own memory of Tom's identity by placing it inside his pensieve, or perhaps he had told a trusted confidant. But these were surmountable obstacles. A pensieve could be destroyed, and confidants could be killed or their memories erased.

Even so, Tom was under no illusions that it would be easy to kill the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Ever since Dumbledore had defeated the Dark Lord Grindelwald, he had been considered the greatest wizard of the modern age. Meanwhile, Tom was trapped in a weakened body with a wand that was not his own. It seemed the height of folly to even try. In all his power, with all the Death Eaters at his beck and call, even the original Tom Riddle had failed to defeat Dumbledore. What chance in a million did Tom have now?

He groaned and buried his head in his hands.

Agh! I can't do this anymore!

Something about the thought of killing Dumbledore was making the pleasant feelings of the Burrow dissipate too fast—feelings he didn't want to let go of just yet.

Why do I have to fight everything all the time?

Would it really be so hard to start over in the new body? Maybe living life as Ginny wasn't his only chance at happiness. Maybe there was an old childless couple out there somewhere who would be willing to take him in, to be his adoptive parents.

Maybe Dumbledore would help him get a fresh start like that. Perhaps Dumbledore had been hoping Tom would come around to such an idea after experiencing life at the Burrow. Where was it written that the greatest wizard of the modern age needed to be his enemy? 'Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.' Wasn't that what Dumbledore was always saying? Since the first day they had met, hadn't Dumbledore always just been trying to help him?

Tom resolved to go see Dumbledore that night after the train reached Hogsmeade Station. He would come clean about everything—he would tell Dumbledore about Mad Eye Moody being Barty Crouch Jr. in disguise, and he would beg forgiveness for deceiving him. He would accept the body switch and ask for help in finding a wizarding family to adopt him.

Tom heard the door to his compartment slide open. The icy-blonde haired Draco Malfoy stood there, watching Tom with a mix of fear and suspicion.

"This is for you," Draco said as he tossed an envelope onto the seat before sliding the door shut and walking off.

Tom opened the serpent-sealed envelope to find a parchment inside reading—

'We have to meet. It cannot wait. Find a way. -L.M.'

Once Tom had read it, the parchment burst into flames and disintegrated into ash.