A Little Trip Through a Diary / TOMIONE (COMPLETE)

Chapter Eight: Momentary Amity

"Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve per cent on his exam. They're not throwing me out after that."

_Hermione, Philosopher's Stone_

Ginevra was not particularly surprised when hers and Tom's project won the first prize. Neither was Dumbledore, it seemed, or the rest of the class. There was a defeated air about the room, as though this was something they'd had to deal with for the last five years. They probably had.

She and Tom zoned out for the rest of the lesson; Ginevra doodling on a spare bit of parchment and Tom watching her idly, lazy smile on his face. Then she realised why. She was drawing on his bit of parchment.

"Sorry," she whispered, pushing it back towards him. He pushed it back, easy smile still in place.

"Keep it. After all, it has your horrendous handwriting on it." 

His tone was light-hearted and Ginevra now understood why he had so many students and teachers alike under his spell. His smile was bewitching and somehow Ginevra found herself drawing his initials in fancy lettering: T. M. R.

She looked back up at him and found her smile vanishing: Tom was staring at her with suspicion and she realised her mistake. He'd never told her his middle name.

*

Ginevra was saved, as it happened, by Dumbledore. The bell rung for the end of the lesson and as Tom made to escort her away, the professor spoke.

"Stay behind, please, Riddle.".

"But, Sir_" Tom protested. "It's Potions next – we have our OWLs this year_!"

Dumbledore interrupted him. 

"And this won't take a minute." 

The iciness in the professor's voice scared her and she hovered uncertainly, intending to wait no matter how suspicious Tom was of her but Dumbledore gave Ginevra a fierce glare that propelled her out the door, happy to be away.

*

Tom waited, half impatient, half genuinely nervous, for the Transfiguration professor to speak. The X-raying blue eyes were no longer twinkling and Tom eyed his teacher's wand fearfully, wondering why Dumbledore felt the need to twirl it so menacingly.

"You know why you're here," began Dumbledore slowly, not meeting Tom's eyes.

"No," Tom replied cautiously. "I need to go to Potions – Sir?"

Why you're here at Hogwarts, Tom," Dumbledore explained sounding annoyed.

"Yes," said Tom. "To learn." Where was the conversation going?

"Indeed." Dumbledore twirled his wand again. "Not to seduce young girls into your villainous group. You may have turned to the dark already, Tom, but Ginevra Granger has not." His voice was low, threatening. "The other teachers adore you."

"_And you fear me," Tom finished, smirking evilly, though his insides were writhing in discomfort. How did the old codger know?

The professor seemed momentarily lost for words.

"No, I do not," Dumbledore denied. "I fear the world that awaits you. I fear what will happen in fifty years' time from your destruction. I fear the future. You, Tom Riddle, will ruin lives. You already have. You killed your mother and every villain kills their paternal figure too."

"Lucky you, then," sneered Tom. "I'm sorry to have to tell you: there isn't one. I travel alone."

"Without even Abraxas?" Dumbledore questioned, raising an eyebrow. "You have been close since you first met."

"Stay out of my business, Dumbledore. If you're too cowardly to tell Dippet, forget about me. Forget about your fears. Continue your boring existence as a mediocre Transfiguration teacher." Dumbledore's eyes flashed and Tom nodded triumphantly before approaching the door.

He turned the handle but it wouldn't budge. He wouldn't turn, he wouldn't.

"Dumbledore, open this door, now." He hadn't had to use his persuading tone for years now but it had never worked on the old man.

"Say please." The man's voice was patronising, yet still light.

"No." He turned back. Dumbledore had moved closer, his wand raised now.

"I could kill you now, Dumbledore." Tom was walking a thin line and he knew it. His wand wasn't even out.

"And I could kill you too, Riddle." The man assessed him. "But will I?"

Tom sized up Dumbledore. He wouldn't let the egotistical Father Christmas doppelgänger kick him out of his rightful home.

The boy's eyes flashed white with fury and Dumbledore stepped back, disconcerted. He waved his wand at once, performing the spell to unlock the door.

"Enjoy Potions," he said and retreated to his office.

And Tom stood there, trembling with sadistic pleasure. Dumbledore, martyr of the light, feared him, feared his very existence. And even if he didn't, he would very soon.

*****

A.N. A long chapter and a darker Dumbledore! Also, a darker Tom. @thetheoryofaweirdo won't be surprised by this but I really enjoyed writing Tom's bit. Who can guess my favourite line?

A little hint of my username: TOMISANOBSCURIAL. Guess what? Tom is an Obscurial!!!

Next up: Tom confronts Hermione and seeks comfort from Abraxas.

Thank you for reading and please comment: I love comments and I usually then seek out your own works to repay the favour :)