The Head Boy's Secretary

And finally the conflict between Alice and Tom begins!


Chapter Five: Falling Out


On a Friday afternoon Alice burst out of her last class to get to her job in the library before the weekend started. Recalling what had had happened yesterday, she knocked on the door and heard the Head Boy’s low voice tell her to enter. He didn’t have as many classes as he was in N.E.W.T. level.

“Good afternoon” she bubbled happily. Riddle did not look up from his parchment and books but proceeded to gloss over them, as he prepared for a quiet afternoon.

Alice took several steps closer to his desk and stood in front of it, trying to get his attention. “er – I have something important to show you. Tom?”

Finally Riddle looked up and took the scroll from Alice’s shaking hands. He unrolled it listening to Alice exclaiming, “Professor Flitwick says mine was the best essay he’d seen on the topic in years!” Alice clasped her hands at her waist, gushing with pride.

Stamped on top of the essay was the top mark, “100”. Alice had received a perfect Outstanding.

“This is wonderful news. Keeping up on academics certainly helps one to becoming Prefect.” He sounded very pleased even content with his Secretary’s success.

“Oh, I don’t care about that,” muttered Alice. Riddle’s thick, curved eyebrows rose.

“Tom. Please read it. I think it was your help from yesterday that improved my Charms essay.”

In less than a couple of minutes Riddle finished the entire scroll, his dark eyes getting narrower and narrower.

“So do you like the argument I crafted? I thought it was a brilliant idea, don’t you?”

He stared at her looking shocked. Alice did not know what to make of him. “Well?…Aren’t you happy that you helped me learn more?"

Riddle leaned back in his chair and looked up at Alice calmly. “I would have given this pathetic drivel a much lower mark. Acceptable at the most.”

Alice could hardly believe her ears. “What?”

“You heard me….” and Riddle yelled brusquely, “Acceptable! But you deserve far worse.”

“What’s the matter with – with it?” Alice caught herself, she almost nearly asked, “What’s the matter with you?”

Inside Riddle’s mind was a maelstrom of thoughts and feelings pertaining to the essay. He needed a moment to collect himself.

Alice waited, expecting for him to shout at her more, and yet the sudden anger that had lashed out a moment ago seemed to disappear. His voice was calm again. “Well, to start….You did not have permission to use my words in your essay, Miss Alice. Perhaps I should go to Professor Flitwick and ask him to fail you?”

“NO!” said Alice horrified. She gathered herself and said, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t put me to the test, girl. You don’t really know me. I could very well decide to.”

“Tom – Don’t!”

He ignored her deploring gray eyes. “The framework is limited. Your reasoning is circuitous. You inserted my thoughts and used them to form opinions. And what utter nonsense.”

“It is not nonsense!” said Alice indignantly. “My argument makes sense. Maybe you just disagree with it and that doesn’t make me wrong! Professor Flitwick gave me Outstanding.”

“Professor Flitwick,” went on Riddle, annoyingly unperturbed “Merely gave you the mark for succinctly stating facts. Rote demonstration applied with my understanding. However, your argument…”

But Alice boldly interceded for she thought she knew precisely what Riddle disagreed with. “Emotions are vital in magic. They can produce a spell or charm!” Without realizing, she had actually gotten to the point, and this was what really riled Riddle. Not the fact she used his corrections from yesterday, but it was the argument about love and other emotions mattering to magical powers. That was what really angered him.

Riddle did not chastise her for interrupting him; he was too intent on striking her arguments down. “There is no evidence for that. Neither is there a single intelligible theory to explain your preposterous beliefs! Not one Witch or Wizard throughout the ages could ever prove emotions matter in magic.”

“You are a biased fool! All you have to do is perceive it, observe it and you’d see the truth!”

“Lies! You're writing is lies!” His tenor was a disturbing hiss, and powerful. Riddle rose, tired of arguing and wanting to take action. “Alice, follow me….”

Alice nervously went over to where Riddle was standing. He took down a heavy tome from a high shelf and rapidly opened it to a random page. He lowered the book and held it out to her.

With his index finger he pointed to a paragraph. “Read this for me in translation to proper English.”

Alice furrowed her brow in deep concentration. She’d only just started Ancient Runes last year, but many of these symbols looked very unfamiliar to her. “The prima materia for the ancient’s magick was from the natural elements…er – a diss-solution -dissolution – no a diffusion of s-something substance for a certain period of time…. I don’t know!”

Alice gave up and looked up to Riddle who continued to belittle her. “Exactly. You don’t know because you don’t have experience such as I nor could you ever. I spend my time translating passages and I can speak dozens of languages. For all I’ve seen in the world, emotions are scant and almost meaningless. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes,” said Alice, rolling her eyes like a typical fourteen-year-old.

Riddle returned the book to its place and said somewhat mollified, “You see…You cannot match my wits. You cannot win against me!”

Alice glared at him. “I still think my argument wasn’t as stupid as your making it out, Tom! It sounds like you have too much pride to consider another’s view!”

Riddle’s nostrils flared dangerously. “How dare you make such insinuations against me. Ten points from Ravenclaw. You are quite wrong, Alice. I am more than capable of understanding another’s argument….Now-“

He paused suddenly, looking at her closely. Alice shivered at the way he was regarding her. The tides had turned and she no longer got along with him. If she wasn’t careful she’d be hit by a tidal wave and she’d be in over her head, drowning.

“Tomorrow evening….Detention. Detention. Where I shall mend the ways of your thinking. You cannot have any future altercations with me, especially as my Secretary. Those words were mine and you twisted them. Furthermore, you were impertinent and took advantage of my help….Now sit down….Not a word with me until after six. You have wasted enough of my time!”

Alice didn’t say anything. She could feel her throat burning, and she thought she might cry. Silently she went to her desk and got started.

Furiously, Riddle went back to his own occupations, thinking what he should do with her later.

After awhile he found himself gazing at Alice from time to time, feeling a distinct aggression building up.

Alice almost jumped from her seat, extremely startled. Something had invaded her mind, faint whisperings and shadows. A presence that was quiet, and also seemed very cunning underneath.

The image of the shadow slinked through her mind, whispering words she could not discern. She felt a palpitating fear well up; the messages of the whispers were frightening her, yet she had no idea what they said.

She did not know it was Riddle, as she had never heard of this being possible, having not learned that archaic subject, Legilimency. The shadows began to contort into odd shapes. Alice didn’t like it or understand it.

She wanted to go back to the Ravenclaw common room, but knew Tom wouldn’t allow her. After a few minutes the images faded into black and Alice’s mind was clear again.

Coldly she stared at Riddle, and within seconds he looked back at her. Looking very stern, he nodded gravely, telling her to continue and she went back to adding the figures.

Hours later, Riddle finally announced that it was time to go. “Come here…” he said.

Alice listened to him, first gathering her schoolbag and she went over to his desk. “Remember….Seven o’clock Saturday evening. Detention with me.”

“Where?”

“Right here, Alice. Afterall you are my Secretary. This is the perfect place isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is,” and Alice faltered, “It’s j-just I’ve never had a detention before.”

“There is a first time for everything,” and his demeanour became rigid, “I shall NOT be persuaded, Alice. You violated my principles. You are an insufferable, ungrateful, brat, and you need that corrected.”

Alice bowed her head to the floor, her expression glum. She was too scared to argue with the Head Boy, though she would have liked to.

“I am the Head Boy and it is well within my powers to hand out and supervise detentions,” and this was actually true. “But if you prefer, I can arrange the Caretaker, Mr. Pringle to take you to the dungeons. I believe they whip miscreants in there.”

“No! I can take my detention with you, of course.”

Alice hesitated and finally asked an awkward, strange question. For Alice really had no idea what was normal in detention. “Are you going to whip me yourself then?”

Riddle smiled, almost like the nice way he used to tease Alice. She frowned, missing all the fun they had had together last week, and now it was going so badly. “Half the battle is the anticipation. You shall find out what it is tomorrow….”

Riddle got up from his chair and turned to get his cloak, as they were leaving. Alice nervously waited, as she was going to leave with him.

They walked silently through the narrow passage and out of the Restricted Section. Once they were out of the library, Riddle spoke departing words to her in the hall. “Seven O’clock tomorrow evening, Alice.”

“Yes, Tom,” Alice said coldly.

*

That night Alice couldn’t sleep, she was dreading her imminent detention with Head Boy, Tom Riddle. What would he make her do? Finally, she fell asleep but to only be immersed in a nightmare.

Falling, falling, falling through a black void of empty space. Everything was so cold and empty.


NOTE: As you can see, Riddle is acting almost Snape-like isn’t he? I can’t believe nobody has written the idea of being in detention with Tom. It’s a fun idea, isn’t it? That will continue as Riddle has a similar authority over Alice as he would if were the teacher. And the real reason Riddle was angry with her Alice doesn't know. He wasn't mad because she copied his work, but because she believes emotions, including love matter in magic.