Anna Potter and the Half-blood prince

Chapter 6

CASTLE - NIGHT
[The Castle is dark, but for one window.]
DUMBLEDORE'S OFFICE - NIGHT
[Dumbledore sits alone at his desk, the deep lines of his face illuminated by the shimmering pensive. Two objects of note are before him. One is a black-stoned ring. The other is Tom Riddle's diary. He briefly balances the ring upon the tip of an ashen finger, then turns a page of the battered diary. His face is troubled. A knock. He takes the ring and diary, slips them inside a drawer.]
People look intrigued.
[The door swings open, reveals Anna.]
Dumbledore: Good evening, Anna. You got my message, I see. Come, come. Sit.
[Anna steps forward, eyes the Pensieve curiously. Sits.]
Dumbledore: So. How are you?
Anna: Fine, sir.
Dumbledore: Enjoying your classes? Professor Slughorn, for one, is most impressed with you. [Anna keeps staring at him blankly. Dumbledore smiles affectionately.]
Dumbledore: And what of your activities outside the classroom? Do they bring you satisfaction?
"Can't he tell she doesn't want do small talk with him?" Said annoyed James.
"He can. He just doesn't care." Said Barty.
[Anna keeps looking at him bored.]
Dumbledore: I notice you spend a great deal of time with Miss Weasley. One can't help but wonder if --
Anna: Ew no! I mean... she's brilliant. But... no. She's like a sister.
"And she is dating Neville." Said Lily.
Dumbledore: Forgive me, Anna, I... [Dumbledore smiles faintly, shakes his head.]
Dumbledore: ... I was merely curious.(rising) In any event, I'm sure you're wondering why I've summoned you here tonight. The answer lies here.
[Dumbledore swings open a cabinet where dozens upon dozend of glittering vials stand like tiny glimmering soldiers.]
Dumbledore: What you see before you are memories. In this case pertaining to one individual: Voldemort. Or as he was known then... Tom Riddle. [Dumbledore reaches down with his damaged hand and removes a stoppered vial, dusty and veined with age.]
Dumbledore: This vial contains a most particular memory -- of the day I first met him. I'd like you to see it. If you would...
"Why?" Asked Barty.
"To get better understanding of enemy?" Offered Regulus.
"Just that? No. There has to be something else." Said Barty.
[Dumbledore extends his ashen hand and Anna rises, gingerly takes the vial and removes the cork. He tips the contents into the Pensieve. Dumbledore nods and Anna leans into the iridescent liquid, her face breaking the surface...]
FLASHBACK - STREET (LONDON) - DAY (YEARS PAST)
[A horse-drawn milk cart rattles across a rain-swept London street and a young Dumbledore appears in a plum velvet suit. We track him down the street (and see him eye a lovely lass appreciatively) until he reaches a grim building surrounded by iron gates. As Dumbledore passes through, camera rises:]
WOOL' S ORPHANAGE - CORRIDOR - PENSIEVE - DAY
[A skinny, sharp-featured woman, Mrs. Cole, leads Dumbledore down a drab corridor. Children's voices carry from an unseen courtyard, splashing and shrieking, in the midst of some game.]
Mrs. Cole: I must confess to a bit of
confusion upon receiving your letter, Mr. Dumbledore. In all the years Tom's been here, he's never once had a family visitor. Frankly, I was stunned to find that someone knew of his existence.
Dumbledore: I am not family. But his name has been known to me since birth.
"Why would his name be known to Dumbledore since birth?" Asked confused James
Mrs. Cole: I see... [But she doesn't really. She stops, frowns.]
Mrs. Cole: I think I should tell you. He's a funny boy -- Tom. Odd. There have been incidents with the other children. Nasty things.
Dumbledore: Perhaps you could give me an example. [Mrs. Cole starts to speak, then shakes her head, moves off. As Dumbledore makes to follow, his eyes happen upon a framed photograph on the wall, old and yellowing, depicting a seaside scene of a sharp rock outcropping and a cave. As he exits, we hold on it.]
ORPHANAGE - RIDDLE'S ROOM-PENSIEVE - DAY
[A small room, grim and shadowy. Tom Riddle, 11 years old, sits atop a bed, hands in lap. The walls crawl with reflected rain, oozing like oil down a grimy window. Dumbledore steps forward, extends his hand.]
Mrs. Cole: You've got a visitor, Tom.
Dumbledore: How do you do, Tom.
[Riddle eyes Dumbledore briefly, looks away.]
Mrs. Cole: Well, I'll leave you two to
yourselves. [Mrs. Cole exits, closing the door. Dumbledore studies Riddle, then begins to tour the room. Carefully placed upon a low shelf are some odd souvenirs. A grouping of seven stones... A book containing seven matches. Seven brass keys...]
"Why is everthing seven?" Asked Regulus.
[Moving on, Dumbledore passes a tall cabinet, tracing his fingers over its surface, as if the wood's grain were Braille, as if somehow "seeing" what lies within. Then Dumbledore pauses. Strewn on a small table are a grouping of seven dark drawings. A boy and girl, their faces anguished. A sea-swept cave. The same cave from the photograph. Dumbledore begins to reach out...]
Tom Riddle: Don't. [Dumbledore stops, turns. Finds Riddle's level gaze on him.]
Dumbledore: As you wish. [Riddle looks away and Dumbledore, for the first time, notices his hands. They are splayed, utterly still, and interlaced with a silky web, where a spider knits back and forth.]
Tom Riddle: You're the doctor, aren't you?
Dumbledore: No. I am a Professor.
Tom Riddle: I don't believe you. I hear Mrs. Cole talking, her and the rest of the staff. They want me looked at. They think I'm different.
Lily looked at him symapthetically. She too knew how it is when strange things happen around you and people avoid you.
Anna: (muttered) Poor boy.
"Really? She sympathies with dark lord?" Said Sirius in disbelief.
"He wasn't dark lord back than." Said Remus.
Dumbledore: Perhaps they're right.
Tom Riddle: I'm not mad.
Dumbledore: Hogwarts is not a place for mad people. [Riddle looks up, cocks his head ever-so-slightly.]
Dumbledore: It's a school. A school of... magic. [Riddle stays looking, but says nothing.]
Dumbledore: You can do things, can't you, Tom? Things the other children can't. [Riddle eyes Dumbledore intensely, unblinking.]
Tom Riddle: Yes.
Dumbledore: Tell me some of the things you can do, Tom.
Tom Riddle: (watching the spider) I can make things move -- without touching them. I can make animals do what I want without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who are mean to me. I can make them hurt... if I want.
"That's strong accidental magic." Said surprised Lily.
"No, the way he says it. It isn't accidental. It is wandless magic." Said stunned James. Slytherins and Sirius don't look surprised, they know how powerfull he is.
[Dumbledore studies Riddle -- then the boy looks up.]
Tom Riddle: Who are you?
Dumbledore: I'm like you, Tom. Different. [Riddle closes his hands and the web collapses.]
Tom Riddle: Prove it. [It is not a request.]
Anna: He was always demanding, wasn't he?
"Duh." Said Barty.
[Without breaking his gaze, Dumbledore's eyes narrow ever-so-slightly and... the Wardrobe bursts into flames. Riddle wheels. Slowly smiles. Dumbledore studies him. Abruptly, the wardrobe begins to shake. Riddle's smile fades.]
Dumbledore: I think there is something trying to get out of your wardrobe, Tom. Open it. Open. It.
[Terrified, Riddle steps to the burning wardrobe and throws open the door. On the topmost shelf, above a rail
of threadbare clothes, a small box shakes violently.]
Dumbledore: Take it out. [As Riddle's fingers touch the box, the flames engulfing the wardrobe vanish, but the box continues to shake -- the only sound in the now-silent room.]
Dumbledore: Is there anything in that box you ought not to have? [Riddle eyes Dumbledore, a trifle fearfully this time. He spills the box onto the bed: a Yo-Yo, a silver thimble, and a tarnished mouth organ.]
People look at Dumbledore confused.
Dumbledore: Why did you want these things, Tom?
Anna: [Rolling her eyes] Of course, he has trophies.
Tom Riddle: (looking off) I like having things that belonged to other people. It makes me feel ... close to them.
[Dumbledore studies Riddle's profile, pondering this.]
Dumbledore: Thievery is not tolerated at Hogwarts. At Hogwarts, you will be taught not only how to use magic, but to control it. Understood? (as Riddle nods) I'll be going now, Tom. Leave your window open tonight. An owl will bring you a message. Read it carefully. Dumbledore starts to exit, when:]
Tom Riddle: I can speak to snakes too.
[Dumbledore stops and we are ON his face, his back to Riddle.]
Tom Riddle: They find me. Whisper things. Is that normal. For someone like me?
Dumbledore: It is unusual. But not unheard of. [Dumbledore exits then, without a backward glance, leaving 11-year-old Tom Riddle alone.]
DUMBLEDORE'S OFFICE - NIGHT
[Anna and Dumbledore reappear. The room has grown dim in their absence. Dumbledore gestures. Lamps blaze to life.]
Anna: What changed him, Sir? That boy wasn't a killer. He was smart, cunning, troubled kid, but not murderer. I saw relief in his eyes when he found out he wasn't the only one, he wasn't a... freak and i saw how his expression changed when he found out that even in Hogwarts he would be different. It isn't a psychopath behavior. What happened to him?
"It must not be easy to be orpanage boy with no identity in Slytherin." Said Lily thoughfully.
"She got it from you." Smiled James.
"What?" Said confused Lily.
"Seeing the best in even the worst people. Anna got it from you." Said James, looking at Lily lovingly. Lily smiled back.
[Dumbledore looked at her surprised.]
Dumbledore: I don't know. [Anna looks up from the Pensieve, where young Tom Riddle's fragmented face floats on the surface, eyes Dumbledore surprised.]
Dumbledore: Over time, while here at
Hogwarts, Tom Riddle grew close to one
particular teacher. Can you guess which teacher that might be?
"Slughorn." Said Narcissa.
Anna: Professor Slughorn. That's why you need him, Isn't it?
Dumbledore: Yes. You see, Professor Slughorn possesses something I desire very dearly. And he will not part with it
easily...(eyeing Anna knowingly) I'd rather not divulge any more just yet, Anna. But I promise. In time you will know everything.
"What do you think is the thing he wants?" Asked Barty. Regulus couldn't answer.
Anna: You want me to let Professor Slughorn collect me. [Dumbledore trails his ashen fingers in the surface of the Pensieve, vanquishing young Tom Riddle's face.]
Dumbledore: Yes.
QUIDDITCH PITCH - MORNING
[Anna tries -- with little success -- to get the attention of the throng of aspiring Quidditch players assembled on the pitch.]
"My daughter is quidditch captain." Said James proudly.
Anna: All right! Queue up! Excuse me... [people continue being loud.]
"You have to shout to get their attention." Adviced James.
Anna: SHUT IT! [Instant silence.]
"See?" Said James.
Anna: Thanks. All right. This morning I'll be putting you all through a few drills to assess your strengths. But know this: Just because you made the team last year does not guarantee you a spot this year. Is that clear? [Rose looks unnerved at this, sweating so much she's attracted a pesky fly. Cormac McLaggen, the huge boy from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, sidles up.]
Cormac: No hard feelings, Weasley, alright?
Rose: Hard feelings?
Cormac: I'll be going out for Keeper as well. Nothing personal.
Rose: Really? Strapping guy like you, you've got a Beater's build, don't you think? Keeper needs to be agile, quick --
[Cormac nabs the fly between two fingers, kills the buzz.]
Cormac: I like my chances.
"I don't like him." Said Lily. Marauders agreed.
Cormac: Say... think you could introduce me to your friend Potter? Wouldn't mind getting on a first name basis, know what I mean?
Marauders glare at him.
Rose: I'm afraid, you're not her type.
Cormac: Why not?
Rose: Because you don't have a vagina.
Barty burst out laughing.
[Cormac glares at her and saunters off. Begin montage Cami Roger flies swiftly, handling the Quaffle with ease. Two second years collide in mid-air. Cormac makes a brilliant save. Rose makes a shaky save.]
"She is letting her nervousness control her. If she continues like this, Anna will be forced to choose Cormac." Said James.
[Neville looks on, nervous for her. Katie Bell snatches a Quaffle with one hand, splits two defenders beautifully and makes a slick blind pass to Dean who jets high in the air, then lets the Quaffle roll off his fingers... right into Cami's hands as she races below. Seamus sends a Bludger rocketing into the stands, scatters a group of onlookers, leaving only Neville, who sidles delicately to the right as the others leg it. Two third years collide in mid-air. Cormac makes a brilliant save. Rose turns the wrong way but makes the save anyway as the Quaffle caroms off the tail of her broom.]
Quidditch lovers watch it intrigued.
[Neville looks on more worried. Demezela Robins, bent low over her stick, pins the Quaffle under her chin, splits two Bludgers and a pair of Beaters. Two fourth years collide in mid-air. Two aspiring Beaters "whiff" on a pair of Bludgers, whack each other instead and plummet to the pitch as the Bludgers ricochet off one another and go flying into the stands, scattering onlookers yet again and leaving, as before, only Neville. This time, he sidles delicately to the left. Cormac makes a brilliant save. The Quaffle bounces off Rose's head. Neville looks on extremely nervously. Two fifth years collide in mid-air.]
"I think you are right. She will have to choose Cormac." Said Sirius. James nodded sadly.
ANOTHER ANGLE
[The survivors press ice packs to their heads, run tape round twisted fingers. Only Rose, hovering at the west goal, and Cormac, hovering at the east, remain on the pitch. Luna, Spectrespecs in place, eyes Cormac -- cool, confident, clear. Then eyes Rose -- sweaty, nervous, swarming in wrackspurts.]
Anna: All right. Cormac. Rose. It's down to you two for Keeper. We'll decide it with a shootout. Demelza, you'll bring the Quaffle up against Cormac. Cami, you'll take on Rose. Now line up. On three. One. Two... Three! [Demelza and Cami rocket forth. Rose weaves nervously while Cormac hovers in place, a confident sneer on his
face.]
Anna: (under her breath) C'mon, Rose...
"She is biased!" Protested Lucius. Everyone ignored him.
[Demelza hunkers over her broom once again, flying like an arrow, then goes into a wide, sweeping slide. Cami blasts over the pitch, ginger hair streaming like flames, then rolls recklessly to the side. As one, they both let fly... Neville, face buried in his fingers, mutters something. Cormac, at the last moment, inexplicably rolls his broom
to the right and the Quaffle sails over his shoulder. Rose, zig-zagging crazily, nearly falls off, rights herself in a panic, and deflects Cami's Quaffle... with her forehead.]
Gryffindors cheer excpet James who is almost professional in Quidditch.
"What?" Asked Lily.
"She didn't mean to hit it. It was an accident, because she lost control." Frowned James.
"But she won. It doesn't matter." Said Lily.
"Of course, it matters." Said offended James.
[As a few partisan cheers erupt from the stands, Anna grins, then has to restrain herself. Neville opens his eyes slowly.]