Before He Was Voldemort (A Tom Riddle Fanfiction)

Chapter 7: Occupying His Thoughts

October, 1943

October blew in and presented itself in the most extreme of ways. It was unseasonably chilly for an autumn month, much to everyone's discomfort. The unexpected cold brought an onslaught of frigid drafts throughout the stone corridors of Hogwarts, causing its inhabitants to break out their winter clothing much earlier than anticipated. The temperatures dwindled significantly at night, and while everyone curled up in the warmth of their beds, Corinne found herself regretting her choice of domicile. A broom cupboard wasn't exactly the coziest of places.

It was a particularly dreary day, seemingly making it difficult for students to stay awake during their lessons. Though Tom did not have this problem, for he wasn't weak to succumb to the tempting effect that was drowsiness. He stayed alert and poised as Professor Slughorn discussed the history behind the shrinking potion, a brew he had studied countless times before. But nonetheless, Tom payed attention to the professor's every word, unlike his peers sitting around him. With Slughorn's gaze remaining on him, he had to restrain himself from sneering in disgust at the good-for-nothings snoozing much too loudly.

"Would anybody like to tell me the first three ingredients in a Shrinking Solution?" asked Slughorn, looking expectantly at Tom.

Is he at least going to try to challenge me? Tom thought proudly before raising his hand.

"Yes, Tom?" Slughorn beamed at the brilliant boy sitting before him.

"I believe the first three ingredients to a Shrinking Solution are minced daisy roots, peeled Shrivelfig, and sliced caterpillars," Tom replied with ease, his lips curling up in satisfaction at Slughorn's joyous approval.

"Excellent, Tom! 10 points to Slytherin!"

Not that Tom cared about house points, but proving his intelligence to his fellow classmates was well worth it.

Slughorn then asked the class to brew the actual Shrinking Solution, making everyone groan once they saw the amount of steps in the recipe. Lazy fools, thought Tom, immediately getting to work. Per usual, Corinne went and retrieved an armful of ingredients, grabbing more than what was required. This secretly infuriated Tom, but he never said anything. Corinne sat in silence, hunched over in her signature withdrawn posture that resembled a turtle, as Tom prepared the first ingredients to drop into the steaming cauldron.

Corinne was unbearably silent. Well, she was always silent, but at least she added occasional commentary while Tom was concocting a potion. Though he didn't realize it yet, conversation actually helped him feel more comfortable while he worked, as opposed to working in complete silence. Corinne hasn't said a word since Tom began, and it was starting to bother him. Something so simple shouldn't be bothering him so much.

With Tom's mind elsewhere, he didn't realize his scalpel was misplaced and missed the daisy root he was chopping, slicing the side of his finger. Hissing sharply, he caught Corinne's attention, whose eyes widened at the sight of the blood pooling out of his finger.

"Do you need to go to the hospital wing?" Corinne asked, her eyebrows furrowed with concern.

Tom wrapped his hand around his bleeding finger. "No, of course not. It's just a scratch." Although, he would prefer if he had a bandage.

"But, you're bleeding-"

"You don't think I've noticed?" Tom snapped, growing impatient at Corinne and angry at himself for doing something as stupid as accidentally injuring his finger. "If you're so worried about me, why don't you finish chopping these daisy roots?"

Corinne blinked, probably surprised that her assistance was requested. Tom would never ask for help from anyone unless it was absolutely necessary. He was just a bit handicapped at the moment.