Cold-Blooded (Tom Riddle x Reader)

Prologue

January 8, 1997

          It wasn't Harry Potter's first time to enter Headmaster Dumbledore's office. He's been here countless of times-- majority was when he's in trouble, even if he wasn't the cause of it, himself. What could he say? The brunette just has a knack of finding himself in sticky situations that he somehow escapes without the help of Liquid Luck. But now is not one of those times. As of now, the bespectacled lad is in the familiar office for a promised lesson from Professor Dumbledore, himself.

"Ah, Harry! Right on time," The old professor acknowledged Harry's punctuality, as he passed by his phoenix's stand to approach the sixth year student.

"Morning Professor." The teen greeted, as he rubbed his eyes free from the eye grit coating the corners of his eyes. "Um, if you don't mind me asking; why do I have to attend so early?" Indeed the headmaster summoned the boy in such time of day, with the sun still not rising-- a Wednesday, no less! It was a class day, and the professor was kind enough to excuse Harry in all of his classes that he has to miss today. Albeit the classes haven't started yet, the scarred male had a feeling that he'll be here for the whole day; Ron would be jealous. Or perhaps there was a chance that Harry would wish he'd be in classes, instead.

"Come, come. I want to show you something-- things you'd want and ought to know," Dumbledore led the brunette by school's pensieve-- an artifact that can help you skim through recorded memories. "I brought you here earlier than usual because this may take a while," The young lad's earlier thoughts were right.

Then, beside the pensieve, Dumbledore pulled out an arm's length leather suitcase, and presented it in front of Harry.

"I want to introduce you to someone-- one of the best students I've had in my whole career as a transfiguration teacher," The professor seemed enthusiastic of the idea; obvious with the wide smile on his face. Curious, the boy unlocked the suitcase's locks and opened it, only to be greeted by rows of bottles lining its sides. Eager to satisfy his curiosity, Harry took the first filled carafe on the first row and observed its contents. In it swirled familiar white wisps that the boy identified as stored memories. Outside of the bottle was a piece of parchment; on it was a written date.

March 10, 1935, it read. These are ancient, Harry remarked in his head, as he twirled the bottle around to see if he could find more details about it.

"Professor, whose all these?" The bespectacled boy inquired, his eyes squinting with confusion, as he scanned each date placed on all the bottles. It appears that what he got on his hand was the oldest memory, after comparing its date from the others.

"All these memories, Harry, belong to Emrys. (Y/n) Emrys; descendant of the Great Merlin." Dumbledore answered, his smile faulting to a solemn one. "Great student, she is,"

At awe, Harry's morning fatigue seemed to have disappeared, and was replaced with fascination.

"How come I've never heard of her? What was she like?" The headmaster simply smiled at the student's evident interest over the matter.

"Why don't you find out for yourself?" The bearded man gestured at the pensieve standing in front of them. Harry looked unsure of the idea, then looked at the small carafe, before looking back at the old timer. "I've been saving these for a while now, and I thought you should know more about her than I do,"

"You haven't seen her memories, sir?" Harry clarified, perplexed of the idea that Dumbledore wants him to know about a woman he never met.

"No, I have not," What was so important about Emrys that Dumbledore wants him to acknowledge-- besides the fact that she's a descendant of one of the best wizards known to the whole world? What did Emrys (Y/n) accomplish?

About to ask of the school headmaster's intentions, Harry slightly parted his mouth to ask yet again, but stopped midway when he saw that familiar glint in the professor's eye-- that glint similar to mischief, but not parallel to trouble; it was the opposite.

Trusting Professor Dumbledore, Harry poured the bottle labeled with 'March 10, 1935' on the pensieve, then proceeded to dip his head in the artifact to watch a memory unfold.

And thus, Harry Potter relived (Y/n) Emrys' life through her memories.

~*~*~

Heya'll and this is my first story in this site. Hngh, I'm a late fan and I hate what I had to miss because of my ignorance--

Other than that, yes your last name is already provided by yours truly. The last name "Emrys" (Em. Ris) is inspired by Merlin's druid name from BBC's Merlin. That show is underrated as hecc and I picture him as my canon version of Merlin in Harry Potter.

Cya in the flip side!