A Change of Heart

Chapter Thirty Four

Tom lay on the grass, staring up at the sky. This place held memories for him. Memories which he wasn't proud of. Nagini slithered in the grass, looking for field mice. If he turned his head to the side, he could see the silhouette of the ruins of his father's house. He closed his eyes.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," he whispered. Somehow the name didn't sound too bad.

"Tom Riddle," he tried again. This time too, no surge of anger or hatred or contempt came to him.

He opened his eyes. The starlit sky stretched above him, vast and infinite. He seemed so insignificant compared to that vastness.

What was happening to him?

"At the wrong place at the wrong time... just like Cedric!" Harry's words rang in his ears.

"Don't kill Cedric!" He remembered Harry mumbling in his nightmares.

Cedric. He had never once, in the months since his resurrection, given a thought to the boy who was with Harry that night at the graveyard. He remembered him. He could not have been older than seventeen, thought Tom. And he'd never see his eighteenth birthday, because he just happened to stray across Tom's path.

Tom had not even known his last name or anything about him. But he'd found out. He'd gone about finding all he can about the boy he'd murdered so casually. Tom now knew his last name was Diggory and that he'd been an only child. Tom had learned that he'd been a Hufflepuff and a Prefect. He'd read of his performances in the Triwizard Cup, a footnote to Harry's successes. Detailed accounts had been published only after his death. Tom had visited his grave too. But he'd run back here almost immediately, because he could not bear it to stand there, knowing just what he'd done.

And now he lay here, where he'd done his first murder, at the age of sixteen. But no, he'd killed before, hadn't he? He'd killed that girl at school, when he was fifteen. Of course it was the Basilisk that killed her, but it was Tom who'd freed the Basilisk. It was so long ago, Tom could not even remember her name or what she looked like. She too was in the wrong place at the wrong time. In that bathroom just as he was coming out of the chamber with the Basilisk.

Tom rose slowly and looked at the Riddle House. He remembered the muggle he'd killed. Frank Bryce. He'd got the name from an old muggle newspaper. Tom looked up at the sky again and sighed. Why couldn't he have waited till that girl left the bathroom before coming out of the chamber? Why couldn't he have just stunned Cedric Diggory? Why couldn't he have just obliviated Frank Bryce? Why had his first instinct always been to kill?

He looked down at his toes. He had to go back. He'd been away too long. And the Azkaban break-out was planned for the next day. Of course, his Death-Eaters would go ahead with the plan in his absence too, but it was not right. He was their leader. He'd got them all into this. He had to be there.

That was why he'd possessed her and sent Nagini to the ministry, to spy on the security details for Azkaban. To confirm that none but Dementors would be on guard duty there on the day they had planned.

He called Nagini to him in Parseltongue. But she was in a playful mood. He waited patiently, not prepared to play games. She slithered upto him, sulking.

"I'm sorry," he murmured as he stroked her. "But this is important."

He tried not to think of Harry or what he'd say about what he was planning to do. Though he had given instructions that no one was to be hurt, he knew circumstances often went beyond their control. Perhaps Harry was right. Perhaps hurting others was all he knew to do. But he was determined to try and not do that. And not let his followers do that either.

He took one last look at his father's old house and disapparated.