Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Tom Riddle and the Resurrection Stone	By : wherdatcomfrom Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 2993 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter fandom, neither the books nor films, not characters. I make no money from the writing of this fiction.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
AN: Here's a quick chapter add. I will be busy again, cause my friend's laptop was stolen and I am going to try to help him retrieve his stories. We worked together some, so I want to give him some assistance bringing the ideas back. Poor, Bob.

Chapter Four: First Years

"It's right here," Randall Flint, a sixth year Slytherin said, pointing to a large griffon statue in an alcove. "Veritigo Ellandeo." He added and the marble beast rolled to the side. "I'll wait for you here and take you to the dorm when you're through. It's kinda weird."

"What's weird?" Tom asked.

"Never heard of any first year being called to the headmaster's office on their first night, before." Randall stated.

Tom wasn't sure what he could say to that, so he kept quiet and walked through the alcove and down a short hallway. At the end, he found a large oak door. When he knocked, he heard a husky sounding voice call out, "Come in."

Tom walked into a rotunda room, completely filled with bookshelves and portraits. The men and women in the frames glared at him as he walked to a desk in the center of the room, where Headmaster Dippett, the oldest wizard Tom had ever seen, sat.

The headmaster had left the feast early, so Tom hadn't had a chance to take a good look at him. He took the opportunity to do so, as the man was occupied reading a letter on the desk in front of him. The man's hair was silver grey, cut at his shoulders and mostly held back by a black ribbon. He wore spectacles with thick black frames and small rectangular lenses. His skin was thick and wrinkled, like poorly tanned leather, but pale as the moon. In contrast, his lips were the same salmon pink color as Adhara's favorite tea roses. When he looked up, his eyes showed a brilliant green shade that would be noteworthy even if the color weren't rare. Tom was speechless.

"Mr. Riddle? I suspect you're wondering why I wanted to see you." Dippett said in that same husky tone. After receiving a nod, the man continued. "I understand that you are the son of Merope Gaunt?" Tom nodded again that the old man smiled. "Have a seat young man. Relax."

Tom looked around and found two chairs in front of the desk. He sat in the right hand one. "Why did you ask me about my . . . mother, Sir?" Tom asked.

"Because I remember your mother, from when she attended school here. I thought you might be interested in what I remembered."

"About my mother? Yes, Sir." Tom admitted.

"Very good, then. Well, your mother was a timid girl, Tom. May I call you Tom?" Dippett asked.

"Of course, Sir." Tom said.

"Well, Tom. Merope had few friends and her brother didn't treat her well, either. She got on with her teachers and got good grades in potions, charms and divination. She was partial to astronomy and numerology, but in all the classes that required the use of overt magic, she seemed . . .inadequate. Her father believed she was a squib," the headmaster paused, catching a few breaths that Tom thought indicated the strain of speaking as much as he had.He considered his next words carefully. "I believed that she had inhibited her abilities because of abuse in the home, but I had no proof and she would not speak on it. She wore a necklace, an heirloom, that she said was a possession of Slytherin's and spoke once of a ring, as well. She was very proud of her heritage, as you seem to be. Her father died a few year ago, but he never spoke of you."

"Headmaster, do you know anything about my father? Did she ever speak of him? Did she say anything about their romance?" Tom was filled with a curiosity now that he'd been given a taste of his history.

"No. I'm sorry. I never heard of any romance between Merope and your father. I fear it may have been a false love they shared. A love potion or charm, perhaps. Consider, young Tom. If your father was tricked into marriage and won free of the ruse, he may not have even known of your existence. It would not surprise those of us who knew your mother." Dippett looked tired and his voice was sad when he added, "I'm sorry boy."

"Aren't potions like that regulated, Sir?" Tom asked.

"Very," Dippett said. "And to marry someone while they are enchanted is a crime, punishable by very extreme levels. The implications of any dark spells or potions strong enough to hinder a person to that level, mark one as a dark witch or wizard." Dippett's voice was so low that Tom had to strain to hear his words. He added, "I will never speak of this again, Tom Riddle. I would advise that you do the same."

Ton hung his cloak up on the peg near his bed and draped his scarf over it. He looked around at the other seven beds that circled the central fire pit in their dorm room. Darius was snoring softly in the next bed and Patrick was in the next in line, mumbling moodily. The sounds of seven sleepy eleven-year-olds was like the white noise in the muggle radios that Tom remembered from the orphanage, low and constant, comforting.

Tom slid under the sheets and closed his eyes. He would write to his family in the morning, telling them of his new house and the other students he had met. He wondered what Wezen had been up to and if Alludra had called for him to come kiss her good-night. He hoped her little eyes hadn't broken into tears when their parents explained that Tom was off at school.

He shifted in bed, remembering the soft padding on his bed at home and the special smell that was left on the quilts, when Libby cleaned them, was like a clear day. It was a distant dream compared to these sheets that smelled vaguely like seawater.

Tom rolled over and plumped his pillow, looking at the bed where Ardis Goyle slept. His mouth was open, allowing a bit of drool to form on his chin. Tom rolled his eyes before closing them to try to fall asleep.

His thoughts drifted to Eileen and her new friend Diana. His best friend had looked so happy to be sorted into Ravenclaw and part of Tom was sad that he hadn't joined her. He wasn't against his house, but Eileen was a good friend and Tom would miss their closeness.

From the bed beyond Ardis, Martin Avery snorted sharply as his snoring began to resonate through the room. He was an odd boy, small but bulky and obviously athletic. He had talked non-stop about Quidditch during the meal and it was sad when Abraxas Malfoy had informed him that first years never got to play on the house teams.

Tom tried again to sleep, but for some reason the conversation with Professor Dippett replayed in his mind. The man's cryptic comments about his mother's family and her dark past haunted him, just as the man had likely intended it to. His grandfather's death would leave questions unanswered, even more than his mother's had, and the remaining member of the family, barring Tom, was his uncle. There was no way that Tom would be allowed to meet the man and the questions would remain mysteries for all time, when he died.

Nearly an hour had passed, revealed from a quick tempus spell he'd learned from Adhara, before he twisted again in his bedding and later drifted off into a fitful sleep characterized by kaleidoscope dreams and taunting images of an odd design, a triangle and a circle, cut down the center by a straight line.

Tom woke to the sound of the bathroom door closing as Jonathon Romley returned from an early morning trip. "You okay, Tom?" he asked, squinting in the dawn light that was displayed in the enchanted windows.

"Yeah." Tom answered. "just a weird dream." he cast another tempus, then groaned as he realized he should probably get up and get ready, before the other boys crowded the two bathrooms. Jonathon chuckled as he gathered together his clothes and some of the supplies he would need before class. Tom hurried to the door and a waiting shower.

Half an hour later, cleaned and dressed, Tom waited for Darius to be ready for breakfast, along with Jonathon and Patrick. Anthony, Martin, Charlus and Ardis had already left the dorms. The four boys took their seats and went about gathering their breakfast from the trays before them, in the second feast that was presented to the students. Eggs, bacon, sausage and mash, kippers and cups that filled with whatever could content the heart. Tom's was hot chocolate with thick creamy froth that tasted of cinnamon.

As they ate, Professor Slughorn, their head of house, delivered each with their class schedule. Tom read his over, noting each time that Slytherin house shared instruction with Ravenclaw. He was relieved to find that they shared four classes, the first being just before lunch, this very day.

First, they had transfiguration with the Gryffindors.

Dumbledore stood at the front of the classroom while the students filed in. Tom followed Darius, who sat at a desk in the center of the room. Tom would have liked to sit closer, so that he could hear better, but he wouldn't desert his friend.

"In this class, you will learn the fundamentals of molecular resorting, changing one thing into another. You will be schooled in mass, density and how these can be manipulated, using magic. To transform one accepted item, into a new and completely different one. When you move on to your next year, you will be competent enough to work with living beings, but for now, the inanimate will do. Each of you has a wooden spool." The man waved his wand and a six inch spool appeared on each student's desk.

Tom instinctively gauged its weight and size, how much of it was wood, how much air and water. He did this so quietly he didn't miss a word the professor said.

"We are going to turn these spools, into pillows. I find this to be a useful spell , for it is not always convenient to carry one with you and there are many places that are less than comfortable." Dumbledore lifted his wand and waved it over the desk near him. A spool appeared and he gestured to it. "For today, we will not deal with the mass of the object, but density will need to change. Density refers to how closely packed the molecules of the object are. How hard and firm it is. These spools are very dense, whereas a pillow would not be. Your spell will loosen the molecules and introduce more air between them. The incantation is Flossamooreau."
- 3
- 4
- 5
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Tom Riddle and the Resurrection Stone