The Ghost King Goes to Hogwarts

Tom Marvolo Riddle

Nikki's POV

I felt my mind relax at the cold touch of the blade. It had been so long since I had done this. I promised myself I would never do it again. But the thing is, if I really meant it why didn't I throw them away.

The truth is I need this. I can't survive with out it. 

My body begged for the first cut and just as I was about to about to add pressure to the razor I hesitated. 

"What would Ben say?" A voice whispered in some far part of my consciousness. I took a sharp inhale. 

"That I'm a monster." I whispered. "He would hate me. He would think I'm a disgrace... that I am an outcast. That I am a disgusting piece of filth that doesn't deserve to be alive." My vision got cloudy. I stared at the blade pressed up against my wrist. Ben's face flashed in my mind. And I threw the razor across the room. 

I took shuddering breaths, trying to banish the tears and the memories but it was had with out the blood and pain bringing me back to reality. It had been a few months since the last time I did... before Toby... that was the last time I had ever even look at the razors.

I stumbled into my cabin. It seemed that the holed in the walls had been covered up already. I fell onto my bed and reached my hand into my nightstand. My hands felt a cold hard metallic surface with swirly designs that I ran my thumb over.

I gently grabbed the object in my palm and retracted my hand. In my hand there was now a small angel broach. I traced the complicated swirls and gems with my pointer finger, which was shaking. 

"Mama." I whispered, my vision going misty again but I didn't allow my tears to spill. I softly placed it on my lap and reached back into my nightstand. I felt something that felt like the same material as the broach and I brought that out too, though it felt heavier than the broach. 

The small mirror was now in the palm of my hand. I had forgotten all about it. I just threw it in my bed stand all those years ago and haven't looked at it since. 

I looked into the mirror and saw my reflection staring back at me but then something weird happened. My face disappeared. And instead I was looking at a weird scene. I saw Dumbledore- the old one- sitting at a desk though from the angle I was at I watching from some where on his desk. Dumbledore was gazing off somewhere and subconsciously stroking a weird looking bright orange bird on his shoulder.

I stifled a gasp and placed the mirror on my pillow face down so he wouldn't see me.

"He knew. He knew it was me. And he didn't say anything." I whispered to myself getting angrier and angrier. This man knew me when I was a child over 75 years ago but said nothing when he saw me again. "Wait... if he's still alive... what about Tom... Tom must have been at least 40 years younger than Dumbledore... what if..." 

My breathing got more and more shallow.

"No, I'm stronger than any mortal. Any old man unable to walk with age. He can't hurt me anymore. I'm safe. I'm okay." I muttered to myself but it didn't help a thing. I started gasping for air, trembling. 

"Nikki!" A voice broke through my thoughts like a knife. There was a loud banging on the door.

"Leave me alone! Go away!!" I yelled at the voice, grabbing the first thing my hand could find and chucked it at the door, which just happened to be my alarm clock that was on top of my nightstand. The gears and plastic shattered on the ground from the force that it hit the door. I was filled with a new found rage, all my emotions fueling it. 

So this is how Clarisse feels.

"Nick!? Let us in right now!! We just want to talk!!" Clarisse's voice shouted from behind the door.