𝘖𝘩 𝘊𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢 [T.R]

2.

The corridors of Wool's Orphanage echoed with the sound of children's laughter, a stark contrast to the chill that hung in the air. Albus Dumbledore stepped through the front door, the bell above jingling softly as he entered.

The musty scent of aged wood and dust filled his nostrils. He had come here for Tom Riddle, a half-blood wizard, to bring to Hogwarts.

Tom Riddle was different, Miss Cole had said. He was clever and resourceful, but there were whispers of something darker that lingered in his wake. As Dumbledore made his way through the austere hallway, he could hear the distant hum of children playing in the common room, their innocence a poignant reminder of the boy he was about to meet.

Dumbledore approached Miss Cole's office, his footsteps quiet and deliberate. He knocked lightly, and the door creaked open to reveal Miss Cole—a stout woman with weary eyes, clearly burdened by the weight of her responsibilities.

"Professor." Miss Cole greeted, her voice tinged with suspicion. "I got your letter regarding Tom Riddle. You want to enrol him in your school?" She asked, her eyes slightly narrowing.

"Yes of course Miss Cole, could you please tell me what Tom's like?" Dumbledore asked, his voice cool and unbothered though his eyes twinkled with mischief and curiosity.

"It's difficult to explain. Tom is exceptionally bright, but something is unsettling about him. The other children are afraid of him. Strange things happen when he's around. Objects move, and his temper can be quite alarming."

Dumbledore nodded, his interest piqued. "I would like to meet him." Miss Cole hesitated for a moment before standing and leading Dumbledore through the dimly lit corridors.

They arrived at a small room, simply laid out, in the corner of which sat Tom Riddle—a striking boy with dark hair and piercing eyes. His gaze was fixed intently on a book that was far beyond the understanding of an eleven-year-old. Yet, somehow, he was reading it without any apprehension.

"Tom," Miss Cole called, drawing the boy's attention. "There's someone here to see you." Tom's expression shifted, curiosity mingling with an air of defiance. He stood and approached, his posture rigid. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice smooth yet guarded.

"Hello, Tom," Dumbledore said, his tone warm and inviting. "I'm Professor Dumbledore, and I've come to talk to you about something very important."

Tom studied him with keen eyes. "What's so important about me?" He inquired, watching Miss Cole leave.

"You possess a gift, Tom," Dumbledore replied, leaning forward slightly. "A magical ability that sets you apart from others. Have you ever wondered why strange things happen around you?" The boy's demeanour shifted, a flicker of interest breaking through his guarded exterior. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Perhaps not yet," Dumbledore continued, his eyes twinkling with understanding. "But I assure you, you have the potential to do extraordinary things. Magic is a part of who you are, and I can help you learn how to harness it."

Tom's eyes narrowed, a mixture of scepticism and intrigue. "Why should I believe you? You're just an old man."

Dumbledore chuckled softly, appreciating the boy's bravado. "True, I am old, but I have spent many years in the presence of magic. I understand what it means to be different, to feel isolated. But I also know that magic can be a source of great strength and wonder if used wisely."

"I don't need anyone," Tom retorted, crossing his arms defiantly. "I can take care of myself."

"Of course you can," Dumbledore replied, his voice calm. "But every wizard and witch needs guidance. Hogwarts is a place where you can learn not just about magic but about yourself. You will find others like you—children who share your experiences, who understand what it means to feel different."

Tom seemed to ponder Dumbledore's words, his posture softening slightly. "What if I don't want to be like them?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability seeping through his bravado.

"Then you can forge your own path," Dumbledore answered. "But you must know that with great power comes great responsibility. Magic is not just a tool; it is a force that can shape your destiny. It is how you choose to wield that magic that will define you."

The boy's eyes gleamed with a mix of curiosity and defiance. "And what if I want to be more than just a wizard?" he asked, his voice low. "What if I want to be the most powerful?"

"Power is a double-edged sword, Tom," Dumbledore said, his tone serious. "Those who seek power for its own sake often find themselves alone in the end. True strength lies in understanding, in compassion, and in using your abilities to help others."

Tom scoffed, clearly unimpressed. "I don't need to help anyone. They're all weak. I'm stronger than them."

Dumbledore's expression softened, recognizing the boy's pain. "Strength is not measured by how much power you can wield over others. It is measured by your choices and your willingness to lift others up. Remember, isolation can lead to darkness. Hogwarts can be your refuge—a place where you can learn to be both powerful and good."

A silence hung in the air as Tom contemplated Dumbledore's words. "You think you can change me?" he asked, a mixture of challenge and curiosity in his voice.

"I believe you have the capacity to change yourself," Dumbledore replied, his gaze unwavering. "You have a choice, Tom. The magic within you can lead to greatness, but it can also lead to destruction if you let it."

With that, Dumbledore stood, sensing the conversation was nearing its conclusion. "I must leave you now, but remember, the door to Hogwarts is always open. I hope you will find the courage to step through it when the time comes."

Tom watched him go, a flicker of conflict crossing his features. As the door closed behind Dumbledore, he felt an odd mixture of anger and intrigue. The old wizard had seen something in him—something he had tried to bury beneath layers of resentment and isolation.

In the quiet of the room, Tom Riddle was left alone with his thoughts, contemplating the choices that lay ahead. He had always felt different and had a sense of superiority over those around him. But Dumbledore's words lingered in his mind, a challenge he couldn't quite shake off.

The encounter marked a pivotal moment in Tom's life, a crossroads where the potential for greatness collided with the allure of darkness. In the depths of his heart, a seed of doubt began to take root, whispering the possibility that perhaps he could be more than what he had always believed.

As the sun began to set outside Wool's Orphanage, the shadows lengthened, and Tom stood at the precipice of a choice that would shape not only his future but the very fabric of the wizarding world.