Tom

___________________________________________________________




Cloaks...



Just cloaks...



A row of black cloaks hung in the room's small closet. At the foot of the cloaks sat a mess of old quidditch gear and snow boots, the kind of things you'd expect in a closet. Frustrated, I shoved the coats aside to see if Tom was hiding behind them. I kicked the closet closed and turned back to the dorm room. Which, of course, was still empty. Had I really expected Tom to hide in my closet like some demented boggart!? The boy was obviously above playing hide and seek in my damned closet.



I sighed. So he wasn't going to show? I knew it seemed every little thing Tom did had it's reasoning, whether to vainly reveal a clue about himself and his past or to use me with his own dark magic. I shuddered to think what Tom might really be after. My imagination has been running wild lately. All Tom would ever say when I asked him what he wanted was 'me'. That curious riddle I had yet to understand. And I felt it had more meanings than just the obvious.



"You said you would see me as soon as bloody possible! So where are you now?!"



I was actually upset Tom might not show. It seemed that, in the past, when he wrote something he gave his word, literally. Before, Tom had appeared outside my window after I read his bad poem. He said he would be there when I slept and there he was, right outside. Every time he said or even just hinted at showing up, Tom was there. He had made his presence known after saying lesser things than 'I look forward to seeing you ASAP!' Was he toying with me on purpose? Or did a part of me actually want to see him, to really face him?



I glared at the empty room, "So you're playing games? Trying to get a rise outta me, eh? Well I won't let you! I suggest you just show yourself already so we can settle this!"



Silence. Nothing moved, nothing appeared, just myself and the empty room.



I stepped further inside the room towards the window to show I wasn't scared. In fact, I wasn't very scared anymore. Now I was angry and embarrassed at being Tom's play thing, reacting in fear when he wrote a little note in his diary like the words would jump off the page and gouge my eyes out with their inky sharpness. Most of all, I was enraged at being 'stood up'. He had to make an appearance! He just had to! But from in front of the window I could see every inch of the empty room. I sighed and moved to the desk, dropping the letter opener. I never liked being embarrassed. Perhaps Tom knew that?



"You're not gonna show this time, eh?" I stared down at the owl letter opener with its large, cartoon eyes and goofy grin, "You're a liar, Tom. A liar and a coward."



Tom had said he would see me and I felt he meant it, in one way or another. Perhaps I had missed something? My attention moved from the letter opener to the diary, which still lay open on Tom's response to the letter mistaken for him. Only underneath his last line was more writing. A signature! A full bloody signature! I quickly leaned over to read it.



'Tom Marvolo Riddle' was displayed in elaborate twists and curls.



A cold chill ran through me, I shivered involuntarily. He wrote his full name! I couldn't believe it. After all that toying around, the vain bastard actually gave me a solid clue! I had a real name to work on. Well, I hoped it was real at least. The name itself sounded a tad made up... although very very familiar. My mind was still reeling from my panic attack a few moments ago. I couldn't quite put my finger on why this name stuck out like a sore thumb in my memory. Riddle. I knew that name... but what was it from? Bloody Merlin's Beard, it was right on the tip of my tongue! But I couldn't quite remember...



I had not given Tom a chance to finish writing before flipping out earlier. I had sprang from the desk chair and went for my wand wanting to be prepared when Tom showed his smug face. For once, I wanted to have the upper hand. Little did I know, I would never have an edge against Tom.



As I stared down at the odd name, more writing appeared along the bottom of the page. I watched with increasing curiosity. Another clue perhaps? Two in one letter? Honestly, the name was all I needed to find information on Tom and, with this new knowledge at hand, I could put an end to his bothering me. Although I wouldn't complain about another clue.



'P.S. I may be a liar...'



Tom's writing ended there, leaving an annoyingly open sentence.



"C'mon, just spill it out already! You may be a liar what?"



"But I'm no coward."



The sound of Tom's smooth voice ripped the silence of the room in two. Cold chills danced across my skin, across the back of my neck. And only some of the chills were from my own fear, for the room felt as if it was suddenly uncomfortably brisk. Tom Marvolo Riddle was standing directly behind me, in the flesh. I instinctively froze, only daring to move my gaze up to the mirror that hung on the wall in front of the desk. Sure enough, there stood Tom in all his glory. His reflection grinned back at me. In Tom's left hand he held not one, but two wands. I recognized the other as my own.



"You won't be needing this," Tom whispered as he pocketed my wand somewhere in his robes. He still held his own steady by my shoulder. The temperature had actually dropped considerably. I didn't feel as if he was casting the Arctic Nether charm again but I swore if it got any colder, I would be able to see my own breath. Being near him hadn't felt like this before... Not this damn cold. The power coming off him was intense.



The letter opener still lay near my hands on the desk. With Tom holding his wand at the ready, I didn't even consider picking up the pathetic thing with it's inappropriate cheerful cartoon owl. I knew I'd be in deep trouble the moment I moved for the make-shift weapon. So that's it. Defeated again. Caught unarmed and alone. What was the point of fighting him anyway? I sighed and leaned my face in my hands. Outsmarted yet again. I can't believe I thought I had the upper hand this time. I had been so stupid.



"Well now, why the long face?" Tom's smooth voice sent daggers of shivers down my neck as he lowered his wand. Tom placed his hand on my shoulder. I visibly flinched at his touch. Even through my robes his hand felt like ice on my skin.



"I see you can talk now," I mumbled, every bit of me wanting to pull away from his grasp. I sat still, numb, ready to just give up already but too stubborn to say it.



Tom chuckled, stepping back from me. Oddly, his footsteps made no sound on the stone floor. I slid my hands from my face and glared up at him through the mirror. I didn't like being laughed at, but there was nothing I could do... other than shoot him dirty looks. I may as well see what Tom wants from me this time. Or pray some halfwit comes in the dorm room and saves the day.



"Yes, I seem to be growing stronger. Stand up, Draco." Tom's tone, although friendly, had an edge to it. One I wasn't about to disobey.



I pushed the chair back and rose to my feet, turning from the reflection in the mirror to face the real Tom, my arms stubbornly crossed across my chest. His wand was down at his side now and he was smiling. but I wouldn't let myself trust him. No matter what Tom was, I knew he had once been a Slytherin. And I surely knew never to trust a serpent, especially one who smiled like that.



"I should be thanking you," Tom's cold eyes never left mine. His stare was intense and, of course, strangely inappropriate. Saying he made me uncomfortable was an understatement.



"F-for what?" I quickly looked away from his sly gaze. A pit of worry had rose in my stomach. Tom didn't just show up to chat, I knew it.



Tom shook his head, still grinning as he stepped away towards my bed. He turned on his heel silently and caught my eyes again.



"Don't be modest, Draco. I haven't felt this good, this strong in years! Of course, your help has been a large deciding factor in this. So I should be thanking you, right?"



"I don't understand," I frowned, unnerved that I would be blamed for Tom's new 'strength', whatever that meant. And all-the-more weary at what he might have planned as a 'thank you'. I watched Tom lay back on my bed, his arms crossed behind his head as casually as Crabbe or Goyle may have done. As if he was actually welcome here in our dorm.



"No matter," Tom shook his hand idly in the air, as if swatting away some unseen fly, "So now I feel I owe you something in return for your help. I'm a lot more powerful than you may think. And I rarely give favors, let alone a 'thank you', to someone. You should be flattered that I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, ever graced your presence."



As Tom spoke his name, I gasped. The gears in my head ground to a skull splitting halt as the name, his, name blazed like wildfire in my memory. It was so obvious, so bloody obvious I could hardly contain myself. I wanted to laugh, to cry, to curse and question everything this boy was saying. It couldn't be him...



Tom glanced over at me, his eyes shining with amusement, "Oh, I see it finally clicked? I was beginning to worry. After all, isn't Draco Malfoy one of my biggest fans? Forgetting my birth name like that... tsk tsk."



"No," I shook my head, disbelieving and stubborn, "You can't be-"



"Oh, don't make me do the name trick," Tom sighed, pulling his wand from his robes and writing his name in sparks along the air above him.



I watched with a rising sickness as Tom swished his wand around, the letters reshaping to form new words. 'I am-'



"I won't believe it!" I hissed, "You lie! You even said you're a liar!" But a lot of things were starting to make sense.



Tom snapped as he sat up and glared at me, "Would you like me to read it aloud? Would that help? I am Lord Voldemort! Tom Marvolo Riddle is the bloody Dark Lord! He Who Must Not Be Named! The cold blooded killer you know and love. The most powerful wizard this world has yet to see! Here he sits, in the flesh, before you, and, might I add, looking quite marvelous for his age."



I took a step back from Tom, "I've seen the Dark Lord. You aren't him. No way, no how."



"You don't believe what you say," Tom's expression softened as he patted the bed beside him, "Take a seat, Draco."



My legs moved of their own accord. Numb still, dumbfounded, I sat beside Tom on my own bed yet I dared not look at him. The air near him was ice cold. But there was something else there, something... very magic.



"Let me try and explain," Tom said, smiling to me as less menacing as possible, "I am Voldemort and I am Tom Marvolo Riddle. I'm something like a memory, a spot in time cut out and preserved. I'm also a piece of your Dark Lord's soul. I'm a part of him, his younger self. I am him. And I'm currently the strongest bit of the Lord Voldemort there is, stronger than my current form on this planet, the one you are familiar with, the weak old man. Back at your own home you promised me you would help me come back to power any way possible. And so far, you have. It was initially my elder self's idea, to give the book to you, but I've done all the hard work here alone. I was weak, being trapped up in that- that damned book for so long! But I managed. I have my ways. And, of course, the old man's gone and taken all the credit. I don't blame him, ah, me rather. You see, we're connected in some ways but he doesn't know everything I do. No, not all of it."



Tom paused, a devilish grin dancing across his lips, "The present day Voldy doesn't remember just how lively his younger self was, or how much trouble he managed to stir up. My poor elder self can't comprehend what it was like to be young. All he strives for is power and control. Of course we have the same intentions... but I have a much different approach."



Tom moved fast, startling me enough to make me gasp aloud as he sprang cat-like at me. Tom easily pinned me back against the bed, holding me down by my shoulders as his nimble form sat straddling my waist. A sly grin perched on his thin lips. Where he touched me I felt numb instantly from the cold. There was magic there, in his touch. There was also something about him that made him feel... not so solid, not so real.



"Old men sometimes forget what it's like to be a teenage boy. They loose the adventure, the turmoil, the romance of youth," Tom whispered, pausing as his ravenous eyes trailed down my chest, "Tell me something, Draco. Since I owe you for all your help which you've given me so willingly, I owe you a favor. Tell me, what is the one thing in this world you truly wish for? The thing you yearn the most?"



I thought it before I could stop myself. Tom could read minds. I knew that well enough now to keep my mind clear when he was around. But the thought had escaped regardless. It was something I had wished for my whole life. I had wanted nothing more than to be the Dark Lord's right hand man, his ally as he once again rose to power and rid the world of all the scum that had collected during his absence. Over and over again on lonely nights I had pledged to help him anyway possible. It was a mere dream, a foolish one implanted by my father's admiration for the dark wizard, and I was starting to think I had been wrong. But my wish had always been the same.



I wanted to be by the Dark Lord's side.



Tom grinned wider than I thought possible as he whispered, "I can grant that wish, Draco."



___________________________________________________________________