The Head Boy's Secretary

Continuation of:


Chapter Twenty-one: Secret of the Darkest Art


Alice and Tom awaited the secrets held inside the stone basin. Riddle turned his back on her. Slowly and reluctantly, the wand went to his temple. Out wove gossamer, glittering strands, curling over the wand.

Riddle delicately released them to the part gas and part liquid concoction, which was the pensieve. The way he handled the memories, Alice could tell they meant a great deal to him.

She pressed forward and saw the memory swirling and simmering on the surface.

Slowly Riddle turned. Out of the corner of his eye, he peered down.

“You shall know the truth. Are you ready to be shown?” Riddle looked oddly uncomfortable, not the confident self he usually was. Alice felt he could see right through her. It was like her innermost thoughts were as transparent as a ghost, and it was terribly exposing.

“After all this time? I very much hope so!”

He stiffened at this prim sarcasm, this attitude coming from his Secretary. But he did have a newfound respect for Alice Whitman and decided to allow it. Her brains, her intellect, and all she’d uncovered about him, earned the right to be a bit smart with him.

She took Riddle’s hand and together Master and employee dived into the well of mystery. A mystery, that for so many months had frightened and confused Alice.

But Voldemort did not care to explain everything. So that first she saw a young Riddle inside an impressive, Victorian drawing room. There were three flashes of green light.

Alice had never witnessed the killing curse and at first could not recognize it.

Not until she saw the younger Riddle rise triumphantly from the floor, at his feet lay three bodies. Now she understood that this was death.

“My younger self. I was sixteen and a half or so at the time,” said eighteen-year-old, present-day Riddle. It chilled Alice to the bone that he felt no emotion at all for the victims.

For a moment, the younger Riddle just stood there, with a shorter, stubbier wand held out. Alice wondered who owned that wand, but forgot to ask. There was a look of triumph that stole over his younger face.

The memory ended in a cloud of haziness. They returned to the present. As soon as they were transported, Riddle spoke. “I have not shown you what I really wish you to see. I want to see how much you can comprehend.” He had just revealed the evidence that he was a killer to Alice, but had not explained how his horcruxes worked.

Alice nodded. “But Master, who were those people you murdered? They seemed to have no connection to you.”

It was strange. Had he not originated in an orphanage?

“I tracked down my relations, Alice,” said Riddle irritably. So he did not want to admit the identities of these people because he was ashamed they were family.

“My father was a muggle, as I told you once before. Don’t you go repeating it or I promise I will liquidate you next!”

“I won’t!”

Of course she wouldn’t, remembered Riddle a second later. That threat had burst out in a temper. But now he remembered he would modify her mind of this knowledge later. But for now, it satisfied Voldemort greatly to tell his story.

“Those were the bodies of my father…Tom Riddle Senior. And his father, my grandfather….and the woman - my grandmother, Mary Riddle. All of them muggles! How I hated their existence. It was easy to see them die…”

“But not so easy to kill them?”

Riddle didn’t answer, but pondered this distinction. Alice’s usual tendency for perception had struck a chord once again. “To make a kill is an extraordinary decision. Killing takes much effort and planning. The innocent wrongly think it is a quick, and easy deed….” Riddle stalled and then sounded old and tired, “It is not always so easy. However, afterwards….I experience such profound relief. Yet it is enjoyable, almost leisurely to indulge in killings!”

“Have you k-k-killed anybody else?”

“No…” He rubbed his ring. A dreaming look fell over Riddle’s handsome face. He seemed to be drifting off into space. It was plain to see that killing was something craved, an addiction to him.

Alice was too frightened to know why he hadn’t done it again. He was waiting until he got out of Hogwarts, plus there had been no time for these pleasures for they did involve a lot of thought. Once he could get away from Dumbledore, whom he feared….He would kill more than ever.

Another memory coiled round the wand, coming out of his temple. Riddle did not explain anything but took Alice’s hand.

The pensieve transported them to one of the beautiful outdoor corridors on the grounds. Sixth Year Tom Riddle was striding down the dark corridor with a definite purpose.

Fallen leaves skittered on the ground, and the wind was howling.
It was midnight and the dark was stormy and powerful. A gale of November wind blew across the hills and beat the stone walls of the castle.

Alice scurried to keep up with present-day Riddle. The past Riddle slowly ascended the narrow steps that led to the top of the Astronomy tower. He looked ominous and anxious. There was something of great import about to be done.

The walls of the past seemed to press into Alice. The climb to the summit took several minutes.

“What is going to happen to you, Master Riddle?” Alice whispered, yet she knew it was impossible for them to be seen and heard.

Riddle would rather show this memory than tell. He told Alice she would see it in good time.

The past Riddle finally reached the top and paused looking at the view. His head tilted up to the stars and he watched with reverence and wonder. Alice thought he looked nice there, and not like a secretive, vicious killer.

The boy of the past slid his wand out and raised it to the heavens. He started muttering a string of spells in Latin, whispering so soft and fast, Alice could not make out the words.

“The spell for making a horcrux,” the Head Boy whispered.

Alice dared to go closer to the Sixth Year Riddle. He still possessed the ring and was wearing it even then. Alice glanced back to her master in the present, who strangely enough still wore that black-stoned ring.

The spell finally had an enormous effect. Like a snake coiled in pain, the boy screamed ululations. Around the edges of him, a thin veil of golden light surrounded him. It was indeed the soul and Riddle was splitting it and transferring it to the ring. The pain was unbearable, and brought a lightness to his being as a piece of his soul broke away from his body.

It all happened so fast, just a second or two. In a flash it was over and Alice saw it wasn’t a lie. Nobody could tell a lie or a hoax this big. This was the truth of what he had become – soulless, an insane, evil genius.

As soon as it ended the Head Boy took her out of it at once.

For a moment neither of them compared notes. Riddle let her take a moment for herself. He was still interested to answer her questions. Perhaps it comforted him to tell another human being this harrowing story? For that memory of being on the Astronomy tower, was certainly a painful experience.

“The strange whisperings, the whimpers and the screams. Those were the echoes of your soul, of when you actually made a horcrux?”

“Yes….and no. According to ‘Secret of the Darkest Art’ the soul moves through time and space, and yet is always separate from space-time. The soul goes beyond physicality. Therefore, I cannot be sure if you heard the actual memory of my screams, Alice. If so, it would be an imprinted time of when I performed the spell to make that particular horcrux.”

Alice felt haunted by this knowledge, she looked to have just seen a ghost. “I believe it was an echo of your soul.” A deep sadness overcame her. A sadness that not even the terrifying Tom Riddle could replace with fear. This was the truth of what he’d become. She finally understood. It was there, written on his face.

“So I have shown you the night I performed the spell to split my soul. That night, I felt as if the light merely flashed and went out. And then the darkness came to my spirit. With the darkness came such a profound power and terror in my heart,” he confided delicately. It was a rare thing indeed for Lord Voldemort to confide in anybody. “I was revitalized and restored with renewed life. Eternal life!”

Alice knew from religious experience that the aim of Christians is to get their reward in heaven after they die. But this idea of being eternally tethered to the earth felt so wrong. So unnatural and immoral.

As the Head Boy spoke of the horcruxes his dark eyes shone luminously for once, with the light of truth. His truth. It was plain that he'd seen death, for it was there written on his face. The eyes seemed to stare into a void, whenever he spoke of the horcruxes. This was inspired living to him.

He continued with his monologue, “It was a greatness that was always meant to be mine. It may inspire envy in others, but not you, sweet Alice! That’s why I tell you all this…You lack ambition, and do not have a speck of spite inside you.” She was so unlike the many students who were already envious of his greatness. For Alice had made it plain beside that mirror that her heart held no ambitions dear to her.

“You will not spawn lies about your master after I leave Hogwarts. Would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t dare to,” said Alice gritting her teeth.

“After my time in the tower, my body ached with a torture. But it was my soul, I knew that would be maimed. Shattered. At first, I worried I had done great harm to myself. I now see I have not! The soul is but an earthly conduit, deleterious to the body. The soul has no need to inhabit the body.” It was plain from Riddle's brutal insights into the soul, that the soul did not matter at all to him.

Alice looked up, and straight into Riddle’s dark eyes and spoke candidly. “Your soul is dark….I should have known! I should have known you'd choose the path of evil!”

“Evil!” mocked Voldemort scornfully. “There is no such thing as good and evil. How can one know the light without having the dark for a contrast? It is two sides of the same existence. I have seen that the boring witches and wizards fear the Dark Arts. But I shall forewarn you, Miss Alice. Your idea of evil….often looks good.” The game was up so he might as well admit he was a manipulator.

Riddle looked around the room and reminded Alice of what she’d seen earlier. “You saw the golden light. That was my soul,” he whispered quietly, mysteriously.

Alice chose not to respond. But she wondered what he thought of his soul. Did he care for it? It was likely he did not.

Alice burst out shakily, “What is to become of my house’s diadem? I know you plan on stealing it from an Albanian forest!”

“Yes. I nearly forgot that you saw the plans on my desk today.” He laughed dryly.

“But Master, how did you find out where the diadem was?”

Riddle laughed again, low and throatily. Then spoke playfully. “Dear Alice, I told you evil often looks good. It would be a sin not to use my charm!” He’d used the word ‘sin’ on purpose just to shock her more. “I hoodwinked the Grey Lady or in other words, the woman known as the Silent Ghost. I pressed and used her to gain the knowledge and answers I needed."

“What do you plan to do with that diadem?”

“Of course, I will make another horcrux with it!” said Riddle bluntly.

“But who on earth told you of these horcruxes?…Or did you learn by the book?”

The question was evaded. It was tiring telling everything. “You’d be hard-pressed to find a student with more knowledge of the Dark Arts. For there isn’t one! I plundered every book in the library. I’ve been sneaking into the Restricted Section since First Year. Finally, I found what I knew must have been there all along.”

Alice wasn’t going to fall for this evasion. She saw he was holding something back. Tom Riddle was just as self-contained as his horcruxes, with so much under the surface hidden from view. “But still, somebody must have given you a heads up and told you?”

“The professor who adores and spoils me was the one. It was he who showed me the way.”

“You mean the Potions Master?”

Riddle nodded and said yes.

“I can’t believe he’d tell you that!”

“Slughorn told me seven was possible,” and now Riddle was smiling broadly. The memory of wheedling the knowledge from Slughorn still made him smile. “That was all I really needed to know. And once you know something is theoretically possible, it becomes much easier to make it a reality. I knew that theoretically seven horcruxes are possible, thus experimentally…. there must be a way.” Seven horcruxes had not been created yet. But yes, he made up his mind. He must take his time and make seven, by choosing things that were special, and murders that were especially significant.

“One more thing….Why ever make me your Secretary? A brilliant mind like yours, and a whole host of men following you?”

Riddle grew impatient and spat out, “I wanted you for the menial tasks. I also thought you…an innocent,” he confessed scathingly. “Presumably I believed you an innocent. My followers are not innocents. But with you, I wrongly presumed you could not unearth my secrets. But, as can happen even with the most brilliant minds…I was wrong. Perhaps I made a mistake, choosing you for Secretary!”

“No!” said Alice. “No. I need the money for me and mum. It’s not a mistake!” Alice tried her best to argue at keeping her on as a servant. She feared if he severed the tie, she would no longer be useful, and he would kill her.

Instinctively Alice chose to divert him by changing the subject back to him. “Are you – a freak of nature?”

He grinned back like the sly character called the Cheshire Cat. Just like that terrifying grin she’d seen in her nightmares, and she’d seen his ugly grin in the dark. “I do believe, I no longer have to eat, drink or sleep. The horcruxes are all the sustenance I need.”

Alice’s eyes grew round with curiosity and recalled her favorite novel again. “You mean…like a vampire?”

Shortly and tersely he answered no and decided there was no such way to explain the feeling to a person who’d never undergone the transformations themselves. However, he still indulged in eating, drinking and sleeping and of course having sex. He feared not to.

“And what will become of your diary? Have you written your personal narrative about what you’ve told me in there? May I read some?”

Riddle laughed, “I am not so sentimental to journal my thoughts!”

Riddle took his wand out and looked at the diary, thinking. “But the diary has its purpose. Proof that I am the Heir of Slytherin. It doesn’t tell all my secrets. My secrets lie elsewhere. The diary’s purpose is to serve me as a horcrux. It is endowed with additional enchantments. Let me show you what it can do…”

He demonstrated what it meant, explaining as simply as if to a small child. Alice saw he had a lucid, intuitive grasp of horcruxes.

A horrific being emerged from the diary, smoky and so bright Alice shielded her eyes at first as if it were like the sun. The being reminded her of the phantoms that came out of the ring, but this one began to take shape. It came out of the pages like a genie from a bottle, taking the form of a faded version of Tom Riddle.

Each moment it grew clearer, evincing a pale glow around the edges. It was a twisted, anthropomorphous being that did not belong here in the present time.

“A memory. It is not alive, but if it stayed out too long there would be two of me!”

He laughed, but Alice did not find the striking weirdness funny. The idea of two Tom Riddles was horrifying, not comical.

The other Tom Riddle was not able to speak, but observed. It seemed to be in a bubble, protected and safely molded to the horcrux. The memory Tom Riddle was near as handsome as the one today, only a couple years younger. It was a copy of Voldemort as a boy, not a day older than sixteen.

The memory Riddle was put back in the diary and it was just as if it had never come out. Alice wondered how he could have conjured it.

Her head was swimming with all the data she’d learned concerning horcruxes. “You are the complete opposite of a human being…You forfeited your soul to never die!”

Privately Alice wondered philosophically if a wizard was really alive if he can’t be killed?

At once Riddle began to expostulate, but Alice would interrupt it. “Death is the end. There is nothing worse than death! Nothing to-“

Alice felt her principles and beliefs were being attacked. “Death is NOT the end. Death is a beginning, in an unknown, undiscovered country!”

And privately, Alice realized this man was terrified, terrified of his own death.

He looked terrifically terrible now, his wand was shaking. Alice could sense the enormous power radiating off that wand.

"I need someone to kill. Have not done it - in such a long time..."

Alice's heart started to pound again with building terror and she shrunk against the wall. She was trapped.

Riddle did not make his move. There was agonizing stagnation. He was gripped with an inner conflict stopping him.

Alice did not lose her head somehow. "Please don't kill me, Master Riddle. Have I not been a useful servant, almost as useful as those boys, those followers?"

A bead of sweat slipped down Riddle's high forehead. But he lowered his wand. "I feel the urge to kill...But I don't like conspicuous murders. The reason I can't kill you, is it would be strange to find a Hogwarts student missing...."

Alice saw a swift, shrewd look on his face. In an instant she knew that he was calculating that after Hogwarts he may just hunt her down.

"I must for now, at least keep a low profile like my followers...."

He blinked languorously, finally becoming relaxed, despite being denied his drug. He rubbed the ring, filled with the wish to kill. Kill Alice. But he could not. Not now. But someday.

Alice would never remember what happened next, and her mind would forget everything. Riddle calmly interjected into her thoughts with legilimency as he erased every memory of today, "Obliviate."

A flash of blue light, and every thought about horcruxes was gone. Her memory was modified of everything, including any horcrux knowledge she'd amassed.

Alice had seen the pain and agony of splitting the soul into millions of fragments. Even if her mind would not retain it, her heart would be effected forever. Things would never be the same again between her and Master Riddle.


NOTE: There are only two chapters left, plus the epilogue. The epilogue will be narrated in First person by Alice!