when they became villains [draco malfoy] {book 2}

Year 6 - 137

Astrid hadn't figured what Dumbledore had meant. Voldemort, her father, was just as much of a mystery to her as he had always been. Her past and origins had become no clearer. Her choices... those had never been brilliant.

She sat in Dumbledore's office again, her back straight, her brown eyes wide and staring at the old man curiously. A cup of tea stood in front of her, the same as one did in front of the man. Neither was poisoned. Something else was.

Earlier that day Astrid had overheard professor Slughorn talking of some mead he was to gift Dumbledore for his upcoming birthday and Astrid had acted quickly. While the professor had gone for lunch, she had sneaked into his quarters and poured her potion into the mead. She didn't know when was the headmasters birthday, even less so when he'd be drinking the thing, but she had known, if she wanted her last opportunity at finding out something about her past, this was it. So Astrid sat, firing question after question to find out as much as she could before the old man finally croaked.

"As I've come to understand, you don't know anything about your heritage?"

Astrid laughed, "how would I, sir?"

He looked into her eyes and the intensity of it made her subconsciously turn her head away. All she knew was that You-Know-Who certainly didn't act like somebody who was especially joyous of having a daughter.

"Alright," Dumbledore called and she looked back up at him. "Well then, we'll start from the very beginning."  The man paused and Astrid stared at him until she realised he was expecting a nod. She did. "When I first heard of him many, many years ago, I was a professor in Hogwarts. Tom Marvolo Riddle is his real name. He was an orphan when I first visited him to inform him of his magical powers."

Astrid sat back in her seat, fidgeting with her fingers.

"Just like any other child, the boy was excited, but even as early as the age of eleven, I knew he was no ordinary child. I could go into it deeper and even show you a pensive memory I've got," as he spoke, Astrid went to sip a bit of her tea, "but as I understand, you have had a lot on your hands lately," she almost choked on it, "so I have no intentions of keeping you here longer than necessary."

She tried her best not to show it, but her heart was plumming in her chest. With an easy smile, she nodded. "There's been an awful lot of schoolwork lately, sir."

"Yes, of course." There was something terribly unsettling about his piercing gaze. "Although, I've come to learn you prefer dealing with things alone, know you can always seek out help in me."

Astrid put the cup of tea down, barely keeping the smile. "With schoolwork, sir?"

"Anything."

"Mh," she nodded and then looked sideways again, scratching the back of her neck to hide the slight trembling of her hand. He couldn't possibly know, could he?

"Now, to continue the tale of Tom Riddle. A quiet boy in his secondhand robes, he was placed in Slytherin House almost the moment that the Sorting Hat touched his head," continued Dumbledore, waving his hand toward the shelf at his side where the Sorting Hat sat unmoving. Again Astrid wondered if it and the headmaster ever chatted over tea just the same as she was now doing. "How soon Riddle learned that the famous founder of the House could talk to snakes, I do not know- perhaps that very evening. The knowledge can only have excited him and increased his self-worth.

"However, if he was frightening or impressing fellow Slytherins with displays of Parseltongue in their common room, no hint of it reached the staff. He showed no sign of outward arrogance or aggression at all. As an unusually talented and very good-looking orphan, he naturally drew attention and sympathy from the staff almost from the moment of his arrival. He seemed polite, quiet, and thirsty for knowledge. Nearly all were most favourably impressed by him."