Tom Riddle and the Pureblood Prince

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Chapter Two: Operating Alone


The conversation by the fireplace had ended a minute later. Eileen had risen and admitted she wanted to go to bed and Tom had consented, not admitting that he wanted to go to bed as well.

Eileen was feeling excited by this relationship. She wondered if Tom would go out with her on a trip to the village of Hogsmeade near the school. Riddle had no such plans. In fact, he was assuming Eileen was going to keep it a secret. Knowing Eileen liked to keep her own counsel, he felt no urge to warn her about it.

The next morning when Eileen woke up, she felt a jolt of excitement. It had nothing to do with the fact that it was Christmas tomorrow. But it had everything to do with Tom Riddle.

Then she remembered she had told Tom she would be staying at Hogwarts. She hurried out of bed to dress. Without realizing why, she took longer than usual to get ready. Eileen applied a hair thickening charm and then make-up, the other girls had once given her.

Out of the Common room, she went straight to the owlery, walking out into the late-morning sunshine. It was a beautiful winter morning, with only a couple of inches of snow on the grounds. She used a school-owl to send a quick note to her parents explaining why she was staying. Then she went to the Great Hall, to have a late breakfast. Unfortunately, she did not see Tom anywhere.

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He was very busy doing things on his own.

First thing that morning, he ran into Slughorn, which was certainly not expected by Riddle. The moment he left the Common room he saw the Potions Master coming down the steps, back into the dungeon.

“Tom m’boy!” Slughorn greeted, jovially.

Riddle knew it was smart to act polite, “Hello, Professor.”

“Come with me to my office, Tom and we’ll have a drink,” he automatically said.

Riddle walked down the corridor beside Slughorn, who as usual was in his high-spirits. “Looking forward to the Christmas feast tomorrow?”

Riddle was distracted as he was thinking about the thing he had wanted to go and look for, so it took him a few extra seconds to reply that he was.

“Don’t tell anyone, Tom. But I got Professor Dumbledore another silver instrument. It’s a light-putter outer,” he spoke sweetly.

Riddle’s eyes narrowed, at the mention of the teacher he hated and feared because Dumbledore had his own special powers, and that Dumbledore revered the kind of magic Riddle disagreed with as being worthy. And chiefly, because Dumbledore rivaled his own powers.

When they arrived at the door of Slughorn’s office, Horace took his wand out and did the transfigurement that causes the door to appear.

Riddle already knew about the clever concealment Slughorn used for the door, as he had been called in by his teacher for many other visits. This young man was Slughorn’s very favorite in his club. Slughorn proudly proclaimed to people many times, that Tom Riddle was the most brilliant he had ever had the pleasure to teach, but thankfully he had not said that in Tom's presence.

Inside his office it was small and cluttered. All sorts of vials and potion bottles and equipment and ingredients were clustered together, disorganized. There was also quite a bit of Slughorn’s own personal effects strewn about. Boxes of crystalized pineapple, his favorite drinks, and some other ornamental like knick-knacks.

Slughorn rotund frame eased himself into his chair and then he poured a drink of mead for both himself and for Tom. He handed a glass to Riddle.

Slughorn took a big gulp of mead. Riddle watched, wondering what Slughorn’s purpose was to talk to him. Tom then took a small sip of the wine, himself.

“By the way Tom, I was most pleased with the help you gave me the night we made the antidotes for my lesson plan,” Slughorn said.

Riddle nodded, remembering how he had only spent his evening doing so, as a back-up. It was to ensure his future plans. Tom was sure he could use Slughorn under his assumed reign over the wizarding world.

“Professor, I have to leave. There is something important I must get started on," Riddle annoucned sounding unperturbed.

Slughorn laughed, his walrus mustache twirling upwards. “Another project for Defense Against the Dark Arts, is it?”

“Why yes, sir... How did you guess?” Riddle smirked a bit, thinking how ironic it was, that Slughorn had actually touched the surface of the real project.

“Tom I know you very well. I'm fond of you. You're like a son to me, and I know you'll achieve greatness one day."

Riddle turned around, as Slughorn said, “Don’t forget the next meeting for the slug club. You missed the last one of term and it was a party,” said Slughorn pouting like a child.

“I won’t Professor,” he said this coldly. For the first time, this teacher annoyed him. Referring to him as a son! Riddle did not like the idea, he liked to think of himself as alone.

Shutting the door, Riddle walked swiftly back up the main corridor of the dungeon, and up the stairs toward the third landing on the main staircase. He knew it had to be on this floor, as he had already ruled out many other places in the school.

All afternoon, Riddle scoured the third-floor corridor. His footsteps echoing in the near empty spaces. There were torches lit at intervals on the walls, as well as well as several paintings. The people inside them kept gawking at Riddle and a few even made rude remarks. Riddle ignored them.

Finally, they left him alone after an hour. He had been doing some serious thinking, his forehead furrowed.

He had finished going inside the classrooms and was examining the walls and the ceiling, the floor, and everything surrounding the long hallway. He came to the conclusion that it could somehow be connected to water, maybe even the Black Lake.

He remained confident, although it was a test of patience. He thought: no other wizard can do it but me.

At another point, the sleighs were outside on the Hogwart’s grounds waiting to take the students to the train-station. More people came up and down the corridor for about fifteen minutes.

A seventh-year girl was passing Riddle as she said, “Happy Christmas, Tom!” and her gloved hand touched Riddle lightly for a fleeting second. Riddle stiffened, but then made himself smile and wave good-bye. He was a very patient young man when seeking his goals, and could remain at work even with distraction.

But he was becoming frustrated because he knew after years of searching the location and unraveling the many secrets of Hogwarts that he was right in the vicinity.

Other girls noticed him as well. Including a group of giggling third-years, who went by, batting their eye-lashes and even talking a bit about him as if he wasn’t there.

Finally, he decided to examine the girl’s bathroom on this floor. Myrtle usually inhabited it, and none of the other girls would go in it because of her.

As Riddle understood that magic always left traces, he first started by whispering song-like incantations at the back wall, behind the sinks. Nothing happened.

He turned around and was facing the sinks. He had just come out of the trance-like state of trying to figure out if there was some kind of hidden magical entrance , when he saw the tiny serpents on the faucet a yard away from him.

He walked closer and glanced at them carefully. It seemed to be the true mark of Slytherin who lived over a thousand years ago, probably put back in this room, once modern plumbing had been introduced. In a few seconds Riddle was speaking parsel-tongue, the very rare gift of the ability to talk to snakes.

Tom Riddle then forced himself to look away and whispered, "Slytherin’s mark. The chamber has got to be directly underneath here.”

He felt a wild happiness, even though he knew he couldn’t open the chamber right now or even later tonight. Riddle knew he would have to wait until a day after his sixteenth birthday of December 31st. For if he opened it while hardly anyone was in the school, it would be a lot easier to accuse him. And Dumbledore knew he was a parsel-mouth, and furthermore did not trust him. Riddle could not risk the creature he knew must be down there (a basilisk), beginning to kill and attack before the entire school came back.

He stared back at the sink for several moments, burning with desire to open it now. He sighed and then left the bathroom. Since, he was very hungry, as he hardly ate anything today, he headed towards the Great Hall.

He was coming down the main-stair case, when he saw Dumbledore going up. Tom purposefully, averted his eyes from looking at the man. Not knowing, that this lack of eye-contact would actually make the Transfiguration teacher become suspicious.

“Good evening, Tom.” Riddle glanced at Dumbledore, and pretended to be surprised to see him, “Oh, good evening, Professor.”

Then he quickly looked sideways, as he did not want Dumbledore peering in his mind, when he had just been thinking about the Chamber of Secrets.

Dumbledore, went up another step and suveyed Tom carefully over his half-moon spectacles and spoke gravely, “What are you doing Tom? I leave the school for a few hours and you’re off on your own again in secret activities.”

“That’s not true, sir I swear. I’m going down to have dinner in the great hall. ..That’s all.” Riddle said this all in a nice, innocent way.

“Look at me Riddle. Look at me.”

Riddle looked straight at him, his face set determindly. But if you really looked hard you could see the fear coming to fruition, from the expression on his face. Riddle gulped down his fear.

“A moment ago you were clearly wildly…happy about something. Were you not?” Riddle had obviosuly just used Occlumency, to conceal the thoughts, memories and feelings on the surface, so Dumbledore could not see it anymore in his mind.

After a few seconds Tom just shook his head, slowly and his expression now impassive.

“I know you’re lieing to me Tom. And I know you’re up to something.”

Riddle just gazed back at Dumbledore's face, with his auburn hair and beard with the same determination.

Dumbledore sighed with exasperation and went past, continuing his way up the main staircase. Riddle continued on his way down to the Great Hall.