Son Of Riddle

Chapter six - McGonnagle

James wasn't sure whether to be horrified or proud of himself. He had just killed the headmaster of Hogwarts in cold blood. A feat which many have tried and all had failed. James then noticed that he couldn't move his hand. He looked down and saw that in addition to the fairly large puddle of blood on the floor, there was a very large gash in his hand. He could only hope it didn't sever his tendons and his body subconsciously numbing the injured area was the cause of him not being able to move it. He guessed McGonnagle had accidentally fired a cutting spell of some sort out of surprise. James was about to get up and bind his hand when McGonnagle stirred. James was startled out of his thoughts and was forced with the decision of whether to be relieved or disappointed. McGonnagle's eyes blinked open and she immediately jumped to her feet, wand at the ready. James also instinctively jumped into a battle stance, despite his maimed hand hanging limp at his side.
"If you had planned to assassinate me, it won't work" James said, ready to take another shot, if needed.
"You can relax, Riddle, I'm not here to kill you." McGonnagle said, lowering her wand.
"Then why did you follow me?" James asked, still not lowering his guard.
"Because I have questions." McGonnagle said smoothly.
"Ask them then" James said impatiently, wondering why she would let her guard down so easily.
"Well firstly, according to the rumors, you were born before Harry Potter was."
"And?"
"And Harry Potter is now 30 years old which means you should be at least 32 years old, and yet you look like you're still a child. How is this?"
James was hesitant to answer, but thought there was no real reason to keep it a secret, so he told her. "When I was eleven, my mother trapped me in a pocket dimension where time doesn't pass. I'm eleven years old and have been for the past 20 years. As for the question I know you're going to ask at some point, I don't know how I was in Hogwarts or why. I'm assuming my mother hid the pocket dimension and Hogwarts was the best place to hide it.
"Your mother must have been a very powerful witch." McGonnagle said, circling James like a vulture. "Bellatrix Lestrange I presume?"
James winced at his mother's name but nodded.
McGonnagle stopped circling and took off her glasses to rub her eyes. "Well, you're of age to go to Hogwarts, I'm sure you've guessed."
James stiffened. "I don't need Hogwarts."
"No doubt, but you need a place to stay don't you? A warm place with food. You know as well as I do you can't stay here. Regardless of your real age, you're still a child and you can't support yourself and you know it. You have know close or even known relatives."
James stayed silent. He would never admit it out loud to anyone but himself but he knew that what McGonnagle was saying was true and the question of where he was going to stay had been on his mind for some time now.
"Well, I'll let you think about it." McGonnagle glanced around the room nervously. James guessed she hasn't seen many muggle weapons before. "Term starts next week. I assume you have everything you need, and if not, the school can lend you a few things. I assume you know how to get there, as you got here. I hope to see you soon. Oh, and you might want to fix that up." McGonnagle pointed to James now very injured hand, right before she blipped out of sight. James stayed silent and unmoving for a couple of minutes, then crumpled to the the ground in shock and pain. He wasn't completely sure when the numbness had worn off but it was now bleeding profusely and throbbing like crazy. He forced himself to get up and tore a bit of fabric off a curtain and tightly wrapped it around his hand to staunch the bleeding. He accepted that his tendons were probably torn because the numbing had worn off and he still could move his fingers at all. He looked outside his window. It was dark already. He laid down on his bed, closed his eyes and fell asleep, completely exhausted.