Author's note: Hello beautiful people, I hope you are doing well. Here is a new chapter, to hopefully lift your spirit if you're living in Europe like me and things are looking all ominous and dreadful... It sounds quite ironic, to write a story about young Voldemort and hope for peace and benevolence... Yet all my thoughts go to Ukraine. On a different note, I'll edit the previous chapters to make it look slightly better (and fix some mistakes). I apologise in advance if you get a thousand emails from the website! Take care everyone and thank you very much for reading, I cannot express how much it means to me.
December 1941: Filiation
Tom let out a short exasperated sigh and passed a hand through his very dark hair. His foot was nervously fidgeting and he licked his lower lip as he closed the book in front of him, the bibliographical dictionary of Those Who Count: One Hundred Personalities that Changed the Wizarding World. He massaged his temples with his long and thin fingers, trying not to pay attention to the students who were leaving the library little by little.
He forced himself not to look at the clock for he knew it would only add to his jitters and grabbed Burke's Peerage - Wizarding Edition instead. He briefly glanced at the dark leather cover before he whispered the spell and watched the pages flip on their own, as if the book was located near an opened window and the wind was now rushing into the sheets of paper. The movement slowed down, as it did earlier, for the tenth time that day, and he felt a pang in his chest as he watched the last page fall flat, showing nothing but the afterword.
He had tried everything.
He had taken into account the tiniest detail, skimmed through hundreds of alumni lists and yearbooks, stared at foreign faces in photographs, re-read unfamiliar names countless times in fear of overlooking his own. He had spent hours hunched over books at the library first, and then in his bedroom, behind the drapes of his canopy bed, concealing the real reason of his staying up late at night, pretending working on his many elective courses, which was a lie, of course, but he could not tell the real reason of his restlessness, for he feared he would be characterised as odd, or obsessed, and would have to explain to all that he still hadn't find out where his family came from and he knew what it would mean, that he might be nothing but a Mudblood after all.
He heard footsteps approaching, and a silhouette stood out against the light of the chandelier, that Tom identified as Mrs Runereader's assistant, a sullen and inflexible girl called Dorothy.
"The library is closing" she stated sternly, and he smiled, cordial, replying that he just needed one more minute. He expected her to get off his back but instead she just stood there and glared at him.
"I meant now" she articulated in a flat voice and he could not help but lift his chin and he looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her thick glasses and oily hair, which made her blink compulsively.
"I said, I just need one more minute" he replied in an uncompromising tone that made her turn around and leave.
He reached for his notebook and hastily crossed the names of the two works he had previously skimmed through and whose references were neatly listed on a page he had separated in two, the left column full of crossed titles under the name of "Riddle", the other, filled with other books' titles under the name of "Marvolo". He had resolved to pursuing his research on his lineage under his grandfather's name, after he must recognised that his father had never set foot in Hogwarts.
Tom grabbed Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy and glanced at the title. His right hand instinctively caressed the book cover and he felt from the tip of his fingers the delicate hollows of the letters stamped within the Prussian blue cover of the book. The lights at the end of the aisle switched off one by one, which he interpreted as a a passive-aggressive sign from the librarian's assistant to try to throw him out. He sighed, his foot restless as he casted that spell again and his eyes watched the pages beginning to flip magically.
The lights of the aisle on his left turned out too and at the sight of the pages slowing down, he prepared himself mentally to be disappointed once more.
Come on now, he muttered as a plea. Come on.
And just as if someone had heard his silent prayer, he heard the unmistakable sound of pages fluttering faster and he opened his eyes, gazing at the pages that were now moving from right to left hastily, searching backwards.
All of a sudden, the pages came to a halt and his heart skipped a bit. On the paper, a name gleamed a golden glow.
Tom moved closer to the book, and a thrill ran down his spine.
Marvolo (1875 - 1928)
There it was. His palms covered his eyes and his lips let out a thin laughter. He took a minute to calm himself, his chest swelling in relief and when he felt his heartbeat gently slow down, he loosened his necktie like after a hard day of work and glanced at the page again.
He spotted the last name, indicated in bold letters - Gaunt - noticing that the line of the family tree - his family tree - was going up. As he was tracing the mark with his finger, the light above his head suddenly turned off.
He mentally cursed at that four-eyed girl for being so intransigent about closing time and he reached for his wand, grumbling "Lumos" as he shoved his belongings inside his bag. Yet, he was too ecstatic to let such slight inconvenience harrow him and he quickly headed to the reception desk, assuming that she might still be there, and that all obliging as she was, he would be able to finish his reading later that night, in the privacy of his room.
—
Annabel dipped the pheasant quill inside the ink pot on the dark wooden desk and glanced at the clock hanging from the wall of the library's entrance. Fifteen more minutes… Fifteen more minutes and she would be on holidays. She repressed a yawn and rubbed her eyelid with a knuckle, looking keenly at the last remaining students who were quickly walking passed the counter behind which she was seating.
As the diligent Ravenclaw she was, she had exulted when the Head Girl had told her she'd be helping at the library as a sanction for having tried to choke Leonus Nott in the Hogwarts' Express. She had not believed it at first, and it had seemed like a rather pleasant detention: she got to spend hours in the library, surrounded by the delicate sound of turned pages and whispers, and the exquisite smell of books. She was up-to-date on all the new acquisitions of the school, which had greatly contributed not only to her grades, but also to her general knowledge, and her studious brain was now filled with odd but unique information (who else knew of the significant role of the house-elves in the Goblins Rebellions of the 17th and 18th century?!). She could also enter the room at will, even during closing time, since she had obtained a spare key from Mrs Runereader after she had insisted on the conveniency of "stopping pestering her each time she needed to access the library on Sundays."
In theory, this was a very pleasant detention.
What was much less delectable, though, was that she was expected to get on with the tasks no one wanted to do, such as send Howlers to the students who forgot the deadline, or label hundreds of books by hand, or lock the doors, once Mrs Runereader - or her surly assistant - had finished their final tour and hurried the remaining students who prevented them to finish their work day.
Anna reached for the book next to her and glanced at its cover.
Taming the Untamed, the Domestication of Thestrals Throughout the Years
She sighed. Only five more to go. She reached for a tag on which she wrote CMC, Care of Magical Creatures.
She heard the shuffling of the library assistant and glued the label to the book's spine.
"He's still here" complained the girl in a drawl and Annabel knew she referred to Tom Riddle. She nodded absentmindedly as the assistant mentioned something about turning out the lights to force him out.
A few minutes later, Tom's footsteps were resonating inside the lobby and Anna reached mechanically for his library card in the nook of the counter. He was walking swiftly, holding his jacket over his shoulder in that typical careless confidence of his, that both peeved and fascinated her. She cocked her head to the side, surprised by his ruffled hair and loose necktie, he who was usually looking all prim and proper.
She had had the opportunity to spend some more time with him, since Slughorn's Halloween party, and she had started to grow accustomed to his manners, the way he carried himself polite and straitlaced. Yet, and despite his haughty air, there was a certain lenity and selflessness in the way he dealt with others and she remembered how he had held the castle's door for her friend Sophia after a crisp day in Hogsmeade, or how he kindly shared his notes with her friend Elena for an elective class they both attended. He had grown all popular since the beginning of the year, or perhaps he had always been and she simply hadn't noticed...
Yet, there was something that made him fierce and aloof despite his apparent extroversion, something she had the intuition he was desperately trying to conceal and that she hadn't quite grasped yet.
"I would like to borrow this" he asked as he was now standing in front of her and he slid the book in her direction.
Annabel extended her arms and glanced at the golden letters of the book's title. Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy. She gazed at the librarian's assistant who stooped over the book's return bin and she would have bet her own head that she was eavesdropping.
"My apologies… Those books are for on-site consultation only" she said louder than it was necessary and composed a contrite look on her face as she tapped on the book's back cover, indicating the silver round tag. Tom acquiesced, politely apologising for his inattention and Anna saw the librarian's assistant stand still and glance in their direction in obvious interest.
"Dorothy, you should leave. I'll be closing right after I finish labelling these" declared Anna as she cocked her head to address the assistant, indicating with a nod of her chin the last few books that were located next to her.
"I suppose dinner will be over in just a few minutes. I heard they have roasted chicken today" she insisted, for the girl was not moving an inch and kept staring at her and Tom, blinking her bug-eyes before she nodded unwillingly. She shot them one last glance as she grabbed her purse and passed the threshold of the library's entrance.
Tom gave Annabel a quizzical glance but the girl kept watching the door cautiously in case the assistant would come back unannounced.
"Do you think she suspects us?"
"I don't think so but we can never be too sure" she whispered back while surveilling the entrance before she grabbed the book and removed the magical tracker that would give them away. She remembered shamefully how she had been caught about a month ago, unaware back then of the existence of such mechanism that allowed for any book to be found inside the castle, purposefully meant for students who tried to smuggle books out of the library. Like them.
"Just… Be sure not to let anyone see it" she whispered, carefully making sure not to brush his fingers as she pushed the book towards him.
"Do not fret about it. I told you that I would take the blame if you ever happened to be in trouble again because of me"
He leaned over the counter to grab the book, his face suddenly much closer to hers and Anna strangely felt like it was warmer, as if the room's temperature had rose suddenly.
It had been for him already that she had gotten caught, the first time. She had stealthily gone out with an old monograph regarding the life of Hogwarts' founders he had asked her to get him. She hadn't made more than a few steps out of the library that Mrs Runereader was calling her from the reception desk, asking the girl where she planned to go with such book. Merlin be praised, she had gotten by with a decent lie, blaming herself to be scatterbrained and had avoided another punishment. Yet, she had chickened out, after, and had informed the Slytherin that she could not do that any longer, for she could not afford to risk another detention or worse, a temporary ban.
Yet, there she was again, breaking the school's rules for that boy, and she hoped she could trust him...
Tom shoved the book inside his bag and cocked his head to the left and then the right, as if to stretch his neck.
"I will walk you to the Great Hall" he indicated, as he sometimes did whenever he stayed that late at the library, for they both usually headed to take away a sandwich or a slice of meat pie for dinner.
This time, though, Annabel wanted to go straight back to her dorm, for she wished to spend the last couple of hours in her friends' company before the Christmas break, and yet he waited, declaring he himself would head directly to the dungeons for he hadn't started packing yet.
"Aren't you spending the holidays in Hogwarts?" she asked, curious, as she glued one more label to a book spine and reached for another work.
He shook his head.
"Alastair invited me for Christmas. I'll be in the Hogwarts Express first thing in the morning, which is why I needed to access a few books first to finish some research"
She sensed pride in his words, or was it relief?
"Some research?"
He was suddenly quiet and she wondered whether she had gone too far, cursing at herself for being so nosy but he simply shot her an unusual smile before he knocked two sharp knocks on the counter to take his leave.
"Merry Christmas Annabel"
"Merry Christmas Tom" she replied but he was already walking away, heading towards the entrance from where he simply greeted her with a two-fingers salute, brisk, before he disappeared through the opened door with a smile.