Marked • Tom Riddle

His Past

   No witch nor wizard can continue for long to exist under the conditions of no magic; even muggles, in their own sense, have illusions of such a thing. Hogwarts, full of magic, stood by itself against its hills, holding powerful sorcery within; it had stood for centuries and might stand for centuries more. Within, stairways shifted with inconsistency, dormitories lined evenly, portraits hung straight, and books were perfectly stacked; creativity ran rampant amongst the wood and stone of Hogwarts, and whoever walked there, welcomed magic. 

   "This is strange," I said, following Tom down the courtyard with the help of one of the guards that had accompanied us as a security measure. A storm was brewing. The icy winds howled and the snow was nearly impossible to see through, but Tom, who was well ahead of me, seemed like he experienced no difficulty in this weather. However, the storm was not the part I thought was strange, but the fact that the entire school of Hogwarts was lined up in neat rows, still as statues even in this weather, their heads bowed as they welcomed their Dark Lord. Stranger yet, near the entrance of the school, there was a grand, stone statue of the Dark Lord himself.

   Things had definitely changed since my time here at Hogwarts. That much was clear. Although the Dark Lord's approved methods of teaching and ideals were still being employed during my time, never had we welcomed anyone like this, not even Grandfather. The statue was new too, which led me to wonder... What else had changed here?

   "Welcome, my Lord," Headmaster Slughorn said as we stepped into the snow and wind-free walls of Hogwarts school. The guard that had accompanied me through the snow helped me with my snow-covered coat so that I could fully embrace the warmth of the school. Tom and Slughord shook hands before Slughorn turned his attention towards me. "Ah, Karina," he smiled welcomingly, which I returned with a smile of my own. He had always been my favorite here at Hogwarts. Even though he had been appointed Headmaster by the Dark Lord himself, Slughorn had still insisted on teaching one class every term. "What brings you here, my Lord?"

   "Private matters," Tom said.

   "I see," Slughorn said. "Shall I send the students to their dormitories for the day?"

   "There will be no need for that. They're welcome to continue on with their studies."

   "Very well, my Lord," Slughorn bowed his head before departing. Tom instructed the guards to go along with him so that we were left alone to explore the grounds as we pleased.

   Tom and I continued down the corridor towards the Great Hall. "Professor Slughorn seems very relaxed around you," I said, glancing up at Tom.

   He nodded, "He has been a great friend to me for a very long time. He was my professor during my time here at Hogwarts." My jaw almost hit the ground in shock. For some reason, it had never occurred to me that the Dark Lord had walked the same halls as me, taken the same classes, the same OWLS. The thought of him as anything less than what he is now was truly bizarre.

   Tom stopped before a trophy case that lined the wall that led up to the Great Hall and peered inside. "There I am," he said, looking at an old black and white picture of professor Slughorn's Slugclub from back in the day. Following his gaze, my eyes landed on a little boy who stood in line with the other members of the club. I was astonished at how cute and innocent he looked as a child, especially compared to the man he was today.

   "It is so strange, Tom," I said, mesmerized by the little boy in the picture. "I must have walked past this picture over a thousand times during my years here, but I never would have thought that one of these children could be you."

   "I had the names taken down on all the pictures," Tom said. "Only the older professors here would know it was me."

   "Why would you do that?" I questioned. Instead of a reply, Tom took me by my hand and led me further down the hallway. "Wait," I stopped him and pointed to a more recent picture in the glass case. "There I am." It was a picture of me, similar to that of the Dark Lord, standing in line with my fellow Slugclub members and a much older Slughorn. It was truly strange to think that Tom and I had been part of the same club, just years apart.