Tom Riddle and the Pureblood Prince

Please review! I am very excited to have reached this chapter. The story is taking a different turn. Finally, I am up to the scene that will change everything for Eileen. This is some clever intrigue, I hope you like it. For what they’re plotting shall change her life forever….and Riddle has been thinking of this since he visited Eileen’s home in July.


Chapter Thirty-eight: In the Hog’s Head Inn


Aberforth Dumbledore, the tavern keeper was busy even on a cold and gusty February. Students from the school were here today for yet another Hogsmeade visit. It was not unusual to find over seventeens coming just to boast about getting into the bar. Finally getting able to see it’s interior, after all those years of wanting to, they discovered it was quite the dingy, even a dodgy atmosphere, and perhaps not such an exciting pub for young people. All but to a very different sort of young people….

The law that no underage wizards could come in didn’t matter to these youngsters. For they had another’s laws to abide by. The two of the scoundrels that were underage (the younger Lestrange boy and Macnair) entered invisible, evading the shrunken heads.

Over tankards of ale they whispered in dark corners. Seven of the thirteen were present, donning great hooded veils, as always is the fashion in the Hog’s Head. The only one who appeared absent was their gang leader. Yet he’d chosen to remain unseen, in a way Avery and Macnair’s best Disillushionment charms couldn’t top.

They seemed alone and nobody was going to listen. Riddle already instructed not to talk in detail about the plan until the others arrived and they got the room he bought for this day. So they milled about, clustering around the sawdust filled benches, clasping tankards of strong Ale.

After a few moments, the other veiled witches and wizards gave up paying even the slightest notice. The words coming from the boys’ mouths, under their veils were perfectly banal. An outsider would have no way to determine what they were talking about.

“We should try to procure goods from the Hog’s Head’s cartel! They’re famous for poisons here!”

At that exclamation, heads turned, swiveling back on their stools.

“Keep your voice down, Macnair” admonished Antonin Dolohov sharply.

“That is immaterial to our objective,” spoke Riddle detached, but stern. It was eerie how its source could not be placed, but nobody could place the voice, when seven figures were huddled together with their visages covered in veils.

Riddle checked his fob watch and spoke in a carefully controlled low voice. “They should be here soon. He was told to show at one and to bring a person of his choosing.”

A fleeting stab of rage passed through the young man. He had brought half his organization out for important business. It would be a grievous mistake for any man to deny their end of a bargain when made with Lord Voldemort.

The two Lestrange brothers were the quietest, staring into space meditatively. It seemed they were contemplating something huge and daunting. Travers was momentarily distracted. “My Lord,” he whispered. Travers felt around and nudged Riddle in the elbow. “My Lord – Shall we get you something? Don’t you desire a vat for yourself?”

Riddle ignored this. He did not need a drink. For now he wanted but one thing. He must concentrate solely on it. It was a selfish goal. He believed he must see it succeed against all odds.

“He will come,” finished Riddle firmly as if stating it aloud could make it truer.

Rookwood was staring mulishly into his ale. He seemed deeply troubled. “Prince? Miss Prince, My lord. Does she know?”

Riddle paused and shot a look across the room. Strangely enough the bartender, whom Riddle was aware of being Professor Dumbledore’s brother, stared right where Riddle stood, almost as if he could see him. Aberforth was wiping a glass longer than necessary. Riddle watched and then jarring laughter broke from above, low enough to be constrained for mainly the boys to hear. “No.”

“May she ever learn of it? Will she ever know the truth? She is a part of our fraternity-"

There was a loud clink of cutlery, the bartender putting away some utensils to be washed. Riddle cut across brusquely, “No. I am telling you no. I don’t want her to know….that it was us.”

Whatever they were discussing, the Dark Order clearly understood what they were keeping from Eileen.

And Macnair scoffed, “And where’s Prince off to?”

“Madam Puddifoots.” Riddle promised he’d be there later.


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