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Serpent of the World	By : TheLadyMiya Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 9486 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I make no money writing this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
In celebration of Korra-day, here is chapter two! I’m really happy that the response has been so good! For those of you who have left anon reviews, you can find your replies here: http://tomioneconvention.forumotion.com/t1011-review-reply-serpent-of-the-world#49192
I want to thank Ozzy for betaing this chapter! What would I do without my trusted beta? Well, probably have more mistakes, but you know… here is a cookie!
Enjoy!
Chapter 2
“You mean you let him escape again?” his voice was high and cold.
“M-master.” A woman lay sobbing at his feet. “We had him but… it was Malfoy’s old house-elf that—”
“I don’t need your pitiful excuses, Bella,” he interrupted her and aimed his wand at her.
She screamed when the curse hit her. From around the dark room other cries were heard. He looked up and saw two men slice another man to pieces. Somehow, he knew it was a werewolf. A werewolf could survive blood loss for so much longer than humans. His suffering would be long and painful.
In another corner, a whole family was being tortured. He would increase their pain once Bella had fallen unconscious. The blond woman of the family was trying to get to her son who was screaming in agony. She didn’t even seem to be aware of the man who was whipping her back bloody…
Tom woke up, his breath caught in his throat. What was that? He had a feeling it was something that had just happened, but hadn’t Salazar said Voldemort had turned mad? Tom hadn’t felt mad, in the dream-memory. As always, he had felt that inner pleasure that came with having complete control over someone, by torturing someone, by having their life at your mercy.
It had been an important punishment as well, not just some whim of a madman. His followers had let him down. Had Salazar lied to him about Voldemort’s fate? It was strange that he would destroy Hogwarts, his home, but there could be a reason for that. So why was Salazar lying to him? Just to encourage him not to make Horcruxes? Well, Tom wouldn’t be doing that again, regardless. Clearly, it hadn’t worked.
Pushing the dream, or memory, to the back of his mind for now, he rose from the bed. Salazar was nowhere to be seen, so it was a good time to snoop around. Unfortunately he hadn’t even managed to get to the shelves where the rolls of parchment lay before Salazar appeared in the room.
“Good, you are awake,” he said. “It’s just after seven, and a good time for you to make your appearance.”
Tom sighed. Very well, if it meant he could start to have some control over things…
Salazar placed his hand on his shoulder and led him out of the room. “Remember, your name is Tom Gus Dolder. Since you are of age, you are at liberty to finish your education anywhere you want. Offer your services for a chance to complete your education.”
As they walked up the stairs to the Headmistress’ office, Tom hardly saw anyone. However, as they walked past a window, he saw a group of people standing around a fire. It appeared that they were cremating some of the deceased. Tom suppressed a shudder, knowing that his own body lay there somewhere. A body he didn’t remember having…
When they neared the outside of the Headmistress’s office, Salazar turned to him. “I’ve placed a very powerful charm over you. Everyone who has seen you before and knows you are Tom Riddle will not be able to remember where they have seen you. Just play along; say you have travelled a lot or something. I’m positive you’ll be able to trick them.”
Tom huffed. Of course he could.
Salazar sighed. “Well, here you go. Do not for a moment forget why I went through all this trouble getting you back, boy, and that I can tear you apart again if you displease me.”
Tom rolled his eyes. “If this bloodline wasn’t so important, you wouldn’t have bothered to bring me back and therefore, you’ll most likely hesitate to kill me.”
That earned him a smack on the back of his head. “I can make you wish you were dead. Now go!”
Wanting to get as far away from his ancestor as possible, Tom quickly climbed the stairs. He was very annoyed to see that when he knocked on the Headmistress’ door, Salazar was already behind him. It appeared that the great and mighty Salazar Slytherin didn’t trust him to do this alone.
“Enter,” came a tired voice.
Tom opened the door and stepped in. The office looked bare. There were only the regular bookshelves, portraits of the former Headmasters and a desk. Otherwise, the room had been stripped of all personal belongings Tom had seen throughout his years at Hogwarts.
An old woman was sitting behind the desk. Tom’s eyes widened. Last time he had seen Minerva McGonagall, she had been a tall proud eighteen-year-old with her long dark hair always in a ponytail. She had often smiled when she talked to her friends, but her nose crinkled when she was telling someone off. The woman sitting behind the desk could not be Minerva McGonagall.
Still, when she looked up from a piece of parchment, Tom knew it was her. The eyes were still the same, even if they were hallowed and tired now. For a moment, she frowned, as if she was trying to place him. However, Salazar’s spell seemed to have been effective because she closed her eyes and sighed, shaking her head slightly.
“Yes?”
“Hello, madam,” Tom said, trying not to sound like a Londoner. “My name is Tom Dolder. I have heard about the final battle and at first I’d like to offer my congratulations, as well as condolences for the ones you’ve lost.”
“Thank you, Mr Dolder,” McGonagall said, her voice sounding much older and weaker than he remembered. “I’m Professor McGonagall.”
Tom gave her his most friendly smile. “I’ve heard a great deal about you, Professor. In fact, I’ve heard about most of the teachers here. It has been a dream of mine for a long time to be a student at Hogwarts.”
McGonagall’s expression changed and she became more guarded. “I see.”
“Oh, don’t misunderstand me, Professor, I haven’t come here to ask for a position as a student,” Tom said quickly. “Once I heard about the battle and the defeat of … You-Know-Who, I was tremendously happy and relieved. I’m from Sweden and I believe you are aware of our government’s reluctance to take a side in the war and send any people to Britain? Yes, well, now that the war is over, we are allowed to travel here again. I took the first Portkey I could find. I know it isn’t much, but I’ve come here to offer my assistance. I’m good at both Transfiguration and Potions. I could help with both, the rebuilding of the school and healing.”
As he spoke, he saw McGonagall’s face flash with relief.
“That is very thoughtful of you, Mr Dolder,” she said. “I cannot turn down an extra hand. Especially not if you are talented in Potions. Merlin knows we need all the healing potions we can get. However, I’m afraid I can’t promise you anything in return.”
“Oh, I didn’t count on it,” Tom interrupted quickly. “I am disgusted by how cowardly my Ministry has acted. If it was up to me … oh, never mind. I just want to help, if I can.”
McGonagall smiled weakly. “Well, as I said, I can’t say no to a helping hand. Down in the dungeons you’ll find Professor Slughorn and some other students brewing the potions which are required most. I’m sure he will be able to determine if you can help him. Ask for the way if you can’t find it.”
“Thank you, madam,” Tom said with a small bow.
“Were you born with a silver tongue?” Salazar asked, once they were on their way down to the dungeons.
Tom sighed. “Teachers are easy to fool. If Hogwarts remains open, she will offer me a position. Her Gryffindor pride won’t be able to accept being in debt. Can you leave me alone now? Isn’t it bad enough that I have to help the people who murdered the old me?”
Salazar arched an eyebrow. “I can’t trust you, Tom. You are stuck with me.”
Sullen, but not saying anything, Tom stalked down to the dungeon.
He came down and opened the door to what had been his Potions classroom. Apparently, it was still in function because Professor Slughorn was standing behind three cauldrons. He seemed to just have finished a batch because he was slowly measuring the potion to put into small jars. At another station stood a girl with frizzy brown hair twisted into a bun at the top of the head. Her lips were pressed tightly together as she concentrated on her two cauldrons.
The third person in the room was also working with two cauldrons, but he seemed even more tired than the other two. This was very surprising, considering that he looked like a Malfoy. Tom had known Abraxas quite well and kept in contact with him even after the older boy had left Hogwarts. Abraxas had been a snob and would never have worked himself to the edge of exhaustion. Yet, this boy was dirty and sweaty, his face grey with exhaustion. How peculiar.
Just then, Slughorn finished and noticed Tom standing there. Just like McGonagall, he seemed to try to place him but gave up with a sigh.
“Yes? If Pomfrey sent you to nag at me—” Slughorn started, sounding tired and annoyed.
“Oh, no, Professor,” Tom said quickly. “McGonagall sent me down here to help you.”
The relief was clear on the old man’s face. “Can you do a Blood-Replenishing Potion?”
Tom nodded.
“Excellent, excellent. Would you mind taking over Mr Malfoy’s station? I believe he is at the third step already.” Slughorn walked over to Malfoy’s batch and nodded. “Very good, Draco. I’ll take you to your common room. Perhaps your mother has been healed enough to help now. She was an excellent brewer when she was in school.”
The boy, Draco, seemed almost ready to faint. Slughorn gathered the jars he had filled and with a firm grip on Draco’s shoulder, led him out of the dungeon. Tom, not seeing an alternative, glanced down at the recipe Draco had followed. He had made Blood-Replenishing Potions before, but he didn’t know the instructions by heart. However, he was quite sure Draco had just added the moonstone which meant he would have to wait until the potion turned blue, then he would add the marigolds.
It took another hour and a half to finish the potion. Once he had filled the empty jars standing on the table in front of him, he looked up. The other girl was sitting a few yards away from him, staring unseeingly into space. He recognised the potion in the first cauldron as Skele-Gro. It was a boring potion to make. You had to wait three hours for it to mature. However, the girl appeared to have just finished a batch of Sleeping Draught. Jars containing the purple fluid were standing on the table next to her. Before her lay neatly cut ingredients which he guessed would go into a wound-cleaning potion. However, the second cauldron was empty.
“Do you need help?” Tom asked, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to pretend to be friendly and make potions at the moment.
The girl blinked and looked up at him, surprised. “What?”
He nodded at the ingredients. “Aren’t you going to start on the potion?”
She sighed, then stood up. “Yes. I was just taking a small break.”
Tom frowned. Had he offended her? “I can help you if you want. I just finished mine.”
“No, that will not be necessary,” she said shortly. “If you are finished, I suggest you begin with a new potion. Madam Pomfrey needs everything we can make.”
“Okay,” Tom mumbled. If the ungrateful girl didn’t want his help, he wouldn’t force her. He started to prepare an anti-infection potion.
A blond woman stepped through the door with Slughorn. They spoke in low voices for a while, before the woman conjured up her own station and started working. Slughorn took the potions Tom and the girl had finished and left. Twenty minutes later, he came back and started to work again.
Tom didn’t mind making healing potions, but after a couple of hours he was very bored by it. He finished the anti-infection potion and looked around the room. Salazar had disappeared somewhere, to his surprise and relief. Perhaps this was an opportunity to get away from his ancestor? He just needed an excuse to leave.
The girl he had talked to before was ashen with fatigue and yet she kept working with deep concentration. It didn’t take him many seconds to work out a plan to get himself out of here and hopefully find out more about the battle.
He walked up to Slughorn and successfully managed to turn his attention towards the girl.
“Miss Granger,” Slughorn said warmly to the girl. “You have done excellent work, but now you need to take a break.”
The girl, Granger, looked up with wide eyes. “But, sir! People are still dying! I can’t…”
Slughorn came over to her and led her away from her station. “You have already saved many lives today, Hermione. Now you need to rest. Did you get any sleep at all this night?”
“A little,” she mumbled.
“Now, you and Mr… er, sorry, I don’t believe we were introduced?” Slughorn looked at Tom.
“Dolder,” Tom said quickly. “Tom Dolder.” Such a horrible name.
“Ah, well, Hermione, why don’t you and Mr Dolder get something to eat, and then I don’t want you coming down here again until you have had a good night’s sleep. We have almost run out of most ingredients as it is. Mrs Malfoy and I will finish what we can today. Hopefully, we will have new ones by tomorrow,” Slughorn said in a final tone.
Reluctantly, Granger nodded. Without looking at Tom, she started to walk out of the dungeon.
Tom frowned. Why was she so unfriendly? He wasn’t used to people, especially girls, just ignoring him. He followed her.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asked, as he came to walk beside her.
She sent him an annoyed glance. “Why are you following me? Who are you anyway?”
Tom’s eyes narrowed. “I’m Tom Dolder. I’m from Sweden. I came here this morning when I heard about the fight. I thought I could help.”
“Help?” For some reason, Granger looked furious. “Sorry to ruin it for you, Dolder, but you are a year too late! If you wanted to help, you would have come when they were sending Muggle-borns to Azkaban, or when Death Eaters were taking over this school, or when innocent people were being murdered!”
She stalked away. Tom was stunned. The girl clearly had issues and was projecting her anger towards him. However, you didn’t treat Tom Riddle like a punching bag. He strode over to her again and grabbed her shoulder.
“Look, Granger, I didn’t come here to be yelled at! If you—” he stopped. The girl’s face had gone completely white. The next moment, her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she passed out.
Tom quickly caught her, cursing. He rummaged in his pocket for his wand, so that he could levitate the girl up to the infirmary. It wasn’t there. Curse it! Salazar still hadn’t given him a wand. He would have to take that up with his ancestor sooner rather than later. People would definitely start to ask questions if they found him without a wand.
Swearing under his breath, he looked down at the girl in his arms. Well, it wouldn’t hurt his good-boy image if he carried the girl to the infirmary. People would think he was friendly and worthy of a position here. It wouldn’t hurt to try.
The girl didn’t weigh much, he noted as he carried her up the stairs. However, she was still heavy enough for him to work up a sweat. By the time he came to the infirmary, he was breathing hard. Once inside the infirmary, he scanned the room, but saw that there was no place to put her. Judging by the state most of the patients seemed to be in, there wouldn’t be a bed free for quite some time. A middle-aged woman, who appeared to be under a lot of stress, came up to him.
“Collapsed?” she asked.
Tom nodded.
The woman looked around with a grimace. “I don’t have any spare beds here. I’ll transfigure one in the classroom right here. Would you mind staying with her until she wakes up? Make sure she has something to eat and drink once she does.” The woman sighed. “Or maybe one of her friends will come by, then I’ll send them to you. However, that will probably take some time. Potter left with McGonagall a while ago.”
Tom didn’t hear the rest. Potter! A cold fury rose in his chest. How he despised that boy! Although, he couldn’t really remember why. Just that the boy needed to suffer and die. Perhaps it was best to stay with Granger for now. If she was friends with this Potter, maybe he could figure out why he hated him so.
The woman led him across the corridor and transformed a school desk into a bed. He put Granger down on top of it.
“Just call if she seems to need anything,” the woman said, and then quickly hurried back to the other room.
Tom pulled out a chair from another school desk, and sat down next to Granger. Right then, Salazar appeared again on the other side of her bed.
“Already bedding girls, Tom?” he asked, looking amused.
Tom sent him a dark glare. “She collapsed. I had to carry her up here, and then the nurse wanted me to keep a watch on her. I need a wand.”
Salazar sighed. “I suppose you do.” However, he didn’t look very happy when he reached inside his robe and removed a long black wand. “Take this.”
Tom accepted the wand, and was very relieved when he felt its power surge through him. The wand seemed to have accepted him. To test it, he transfigured a pen into a glass and filled it with water. It worked perfectly. On closer inspection, he saw that the handle was engraved with serpents that had tiny runes on their bodies.
“Whose wand is this?” he asked, curious.
“Mine. Don’t break it.”
Tom transfigured a holster for the wand, which he placed on his left arm, before sticking the wand into it.
“The people here are talking about other people and seem to expect me to know who they are,” Tom said casually, pretending to just make small-talk. “Like Potter. Some people have talked about him. Who is he?”
Salazar eyed him in a way that told Tom he hadn’t been fooled. “Potter is the Boy-Who-Lived. You tried to murder him when he was a baby. He survived. He was later labelled ‘The Chosen One’, destined to kill Lord Voldemort. He did that yesterday. He is the hero of the Wizarding World.”
Tom felt anger surge in his stomach. How could a boy have killed him? Well, that was something he would find out later. “And this girl? I’ve only heard she is called Granger.”
“Yes, Hermione Granger, Mudblood extraordinaire, Potter’s best friend, cleverest witch Hogwarts has ever seen, and so on.”
“A Mudblood is the cleverest witch at Hogwarts?” Tom asked, grimacing.
“You’ll have to get over your disgust. At this time, voicing such opinions will have people believing you are a Death Eater, and you’ll be taken in for questioning,” Salazar said, much to Tom’s surprise. Hadn’t Salazar been known for his hatred of Muggles and Mudbloods?
“What on earth is a Death Eater?” he asked instead.
“Lord Voldemort’s followers,” Salazar replied. “You don’t want to let anyone think you share any views similar to them. It will make your work here much harder.”
Tom sighed, but he saw what Salazar meant. If the Muggle-loving side had won, he had better pretend to be like them if he wanted to fit in. At least he wouldn’t have to actually meet any Muggles. He hated Muggles more than he hated Mudbloods. At least Mudbloods had magic and could assimilate into the Wizarding World. He didn’t care about them. It was the ones that insisted on bringing their Muggle ways with them that he couldn’t stand. Why would anyone want to have anything Muggle when they could live in a magical world instead?
Granger suddenly started to stir on the bed. She opened her eyes, and blinked a few times before sitting up. Her eyes fell on Tom, and she frowned.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, sounding just as unfriendly as she had before she had collapsed.
Tom rose, feeling aggravated. “You fainted of exhaustion. For some strange reason, I didn’t feel it was right to leave you on the floor in the dungeon, so I took you up to the hospital wing, but since there was no room there, the nurse transfigured a bed here and asked me to watch over you until you woke up. I’m so sorry, I’ll leave at once.”
He began stalking out of the room, but stopped when she called.
“Wait!”
He turned around, arms crossed.
“I’m sorry,” she said with a sigh. “I didn’t mean to be rude, I’m just … well, we have all had it hard, I guess. But that’s no reason to take it out on you. Sorry.”
Tom regarded her, but she seemed genuinely sorry. Well, if she was Potter’s friend, then he wanted to talk to her to find out more about Potter. Somehow, he would make sure Potter had an accident sooner or later.
“I guess that’s understandable,” he said slowly. “But I’m here to help; not to be used as a punching bag.”
She grimaced. “You are right, I was rude. Let’s just start over. I’m Hermione Granger.”
Tom went back to her and took her outstretched hand. “Tom Dolder.”
“Right. Did you say you were from Sweden?”
Tom nodded. “I just came here this morning.”
“You speak excellent English,” she said, probably to make up for how rude she had been before.
“Well, I’ve spoken it all my life,” Tom said. It would be too hard to explain why he didn’t have a Swedish accent, and it was too late to start faking one now. “I’m half-British. My mum emigrated.”
“Oh, nice.” She seemed rather uncomfortable.
“Do you want anything to eat?” Tom asked. “Or drink?”
“Yes, I think I should eat something,” she said. “Nothing too heavy, though. Just some toast.”
Tom was about to turn around again, to go and find some house-elf with the order, but before he had even made it to the door, one popped in with a plate full of toast and a flask of pumpkin juice. Tom glanced at Salazar who just smiled.
“Wow, Hogwarts has great service,” Tom said, pretending to be surprised as the house-elf popped out again.
“I guess Pomfrey sent for them,” Granger said, as she took a piece of bread and began nibbling at the edge of it.
Tom realised he was hungry too (he hadn’t had anything since that morning), so he sat down on the chair again, reaching for the plate on Granger’s bed.
They ate in silence for a while; Tom knowing he shouldn’t intrude, and Hermione seemingly uncomfortable with him.
“So,” she finally said slowly, once she had finished the first slice of toast. “What’s Sweden like?”
“Oh, er, lots of trees,” he answered. He had never been to Sweden. Not that he could remember anyway. He did get an image of a screaming child in the middle of a forest. Perhaps his old self had murdered someone there? Because he was quite sure the flashes he got now and again were memories from his former life. “It’s nothing special. I grew up about seventy kilometres from the Norwegian border.” He made sure to store this knowledge in his mind so he could repeat the same lie to everyone.
“Sounds nice,” she said.
“Yeah. Where did you grow up?” he asked. If she didn’t ask too much, he wouldn’t have to come up with too many lies.
“On the south coast. Poole, if you know where it is.”
“Somewhat. How old are you? Have you already graduated?”
Granger made a grimace. “I’m eighteen. Will be nineteen in the fall. I should have graduated, well, now, but with the war … I’ll just have to do my last year this fall instead. If they manage to open Hogwarts again. What about you?”
“I became seventeen in December,” he answered, figuring it was almost true. “I had hoped to do my final year here at Hogwarts, but they seldom take transfer students. So I guess I have an ulterior motive for helping as well. But if they can’t open the school, or if they choose not to take me in, I’ll just go back to Sweden in the fall and finish my last year there.”
She looked at him sympathetically. “Well, if they decide to open the school in the fall, I can put in a good word for you. I was a prefect in my fifth and sixth year. You did do a good job with those potions.”
He smiled at her. “I’d appreciate that. I really want to finish my education here.” That, at least, was completely true. Even if he knew most of what the teachers were lecturing about, Hogwarts could still teach him things. For one, he hadn’t read every book in the library yet. Considering that he had just skipped fifty years forward in time, there was bound to be a lot of new knowledge there.
The door opened, and a black-haired young man with glasses entered. He looked relieved when he saw Hermione. Tom felt a stab of fury go through him.
“Harry!” Hermione said, at once sounding much happier.
Tom kept his emotions hidden. So this was the boy who had managed to kill Lord Voldemort. How humiliating. He really had to find a way to avenge himself.
“There you are Hermione!” Potter came up to them and hugged the girl. “Madam Pomfrey said you collapsed.”
“I’m okay,” Granger assured the boy. “This is Tom Dolder. He helped me. Tom, this is Harry Potter.”
Tom shook hands with Potter. “I guess I have to congratulate you on the defeat of You-Know-Who?”
Potter didn’t smile. “I just did what had to be done.”
Tom really didn’t like Potter. However, he put on a amiable face. “Well, if you are feeling better, Hermione, I think I should get going and see if I can help with something else.”
He could tell by Potter’s expression that he wanted to speak to Granger by himself, and since he was still just a stranger to them, it would make a much better impression if he didn’t seem too eager to learn all their secrets at once. There would be plenty of time for that later.
“Thank you for your help, Tom,” Granger said and gave him a weak smile. “I’ll see you later, I guess.”
“Yes. Nice to meet you, Harry.”
Potter nodded at him and Tom left the room.
Salazar was right behind him as he made his way back to the dungeons.
“Don’t even think about it, boy,” Salazar suddenly said.
“Think about what?” Tom asked, but he was quite sure he knew what Salazar was referring to.
“This is no time to avenge your death. We have more important things to do. In fact, Potter would make a good Blood Brother. And he already has some history speaking Parseltongue, so it wouldn’t be as strange as it would be if someone else suddenly starts speaking it.”
Tom stopped and stared at his ancestor. “No! You’re already asking too much of me by telling me to ignore him. You can’t make me some Blood Brother to him. There has to be someone else!”
Salazar regarded him, but then sighed. “In this regard, you are right. I don’t want you two killing each other.”
Tom exhaled in relief. It seemed like Salazar didn’t want to drive him insane after all.
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Serpent of the World