"Self-conceit may lead to self-destruction." - Aesop (620 BC - 560 BC)
August 31st, 1941,
As of now, we’re in the middle of our journey back to Hogwarts. Lydia was thoughtful enough to drive Tom and I to King's Cross Station so we could board the Hogwarts Express.
Prior to leaving her house, I finally decided on a present for her. I made her a lavender scarf with fringe. Okay, so it’s not the best gift I could have come up with, but I do know how to knit, and it was the only thing I could do on short notice without using magic.
---
"We have a special announcement for you all," Headmaster Dippet announced that night at the start-of-term feast.
The buzz in the Great Hall presently subsided as Dippet cleared his throat and continued on with his address to the school.
“As there is much uneasiness in the world at the moment, it has come to my and the School Governors' attention that morale among the students here seem to be at an all-time low. We decided that a little celebration to cheer everyone else was in order. On December 23rd, Hogwarts will hold its first Christmastide celebration in many, many years. You'll have the chance to become acquainted with students from other houses, make new friends, and hopefully, boost morale in this very trying time." (This led to much snickering from the students.)
From then on, he went into his usual start-of-term mundane address to the school, much to the annoyance of everybody in the building. Upon realizing that nobody was heeding his words anymore, Dippet heaved an intense sigh and then began the Sorting ceremony.
Dumbledore immediately stepped forward and began reading the names off the long parchment.
"Filch, Argus!”
A frightened young boy timidly drew near the stool and tentatively sat down on it. Dumbledore placed the hat on his scruffy brown hair and the hat came to life, whispering into the boy’s ear. Eventually it yelled out for the Great Hall to hear, “SLYTHERIN!"
The boy jumped off the stool and ran over toward the Slytherin table. Argus looked around at the Slytherin table nervously before Tom slapped the newcomer on the back and whispered something in his ear. The boy seemed to relax from then on.
"Fudge, Cornelius!"
A fidgety and rather chunky boy listlessly made his way to the stool and the Sorting Hat was placed on his slightly round head.
The hat spoke out almost at once: “HUFFLEPUFF!"
Cornelius eased his round bottom off the stool and ran to join the others over at the Hufflepuff table.
"I can't believe that they're making us go to some preposterous Christmas party," Sophie frowned, breaking Miriam's absorption in the Sorting ceremonies. "My morale is perfectly fine!"
"Sprout, Pomona!" A short girl with flyaway brown-hair drew closer to the stool and sat down.
"I know," Miriam mumbled to her friend, even though most of her attention was still focused on watching the ceremonies.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat proclaimed audibly. More cheers sounded from the Hufflepuff table as Dumbledore continued scrolling through the parchment.
"Vranda, Myrtle!"
A pony-tailed girl with glasses and a glum look on her face made her way to the hat.
"You're lucky," ranted Sophie. "At least you have Henry to go with. Marcella and I have to find someone... or we'll be going alone! How sad is that?”
"What's wrong with going alone? Just look at it as having a good sense of feminine stability and not feeling the need to go with a boy!"
Sophie glared at Miriam unbelievably. "You're bloody amazing at times, you know that?"
Miriam grinned back at her friend. “I’m just one big surprise after another.”
"RAVENCLAW!" the hat yelled as the glum girl leapt off the stool and ran, tears starting to trickle down her face, to join her new house. There were no other waiting first years behind her, ergo the feast could finally commence.
"I think the ceremonies are finally over with," remarked Miriam, trying desperately to change the subject from the Christmastide celebration.
"Finally," moaned Sophie. "I'm famished!"
September 10th, 1941,
I swear to the powers that be, if I could, I would curse Carrey all the way around Hogwarts and back once more. He is a profound, vexing little prat, if I ever met one. The nerve of him to even THINK of it still baffles me as I’m writing this.... I can’t help but feel permanently soiled....
---
It was a cloud-free, Saturday afternoon and Miriam had decided to head down to the library to work on her Arithmancy homework for that week. Unbeknownst to her, Tom, Carrey, and Murdoch were hanging out and chatting near the Restricted Section of the library.
“Now that Stephane is gone, I wonder who’s gonna take over as head of the Junior Knights club?” Murdoch wondered, as he leaned against a large bookcase.
“I will,” Tom spoke up.
“You?!” Carrey demanded unbelievably.
Tom raised his eyebrow. “You don’t think I could handle it?” he asked indignantly, his arms crossed firmly across his chest.
“You’re too busy trying to discover if the Chamber of Secrets really exists.”
“I can handle both!” Tom snapped, narrowing his eyes. “Besides ““
”You’re on the Quidditch team, too!” Murdoch interrupted. “You’d really be stretching yourself thin, on top of keeping you distinction as teacher’s pet.”
"Look here. I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, can open the Chamber, keep up on my homework, and head the Junior Knights," he retorted. “Furthermore, I gave up my spot on the Quidditch team.”
“How come?” Murdoch demanded.
“I wanted to. What’s the big deal?”
“Look,” Carrey groaned trying to change the topic, “you’ve never been raised around wizards... or the Knights, for that matter. You’d be going in a complete stranger and “”
“Try me,” Tom interrupted. “For your information, this wizard agrees with Grindelwald’s views.”
"Fine!" Carrey sighed and threw his hands into air. In hopes of changing the topic once more, he looked around the library and stated, "Since we’re here and all, I'll bet you two galleons that I can get your sister Miriam to go to the Christmastide celebration with me."
"Good luck,” Tom snorted loudly. “She's still dating that brainless Henry person," he added, shaking his head in incredulity. “He’s such a foolish Mudblood.”
The gang laughed. "Duh, look at me," Carrey mimicked in his best screechy voice, "I'm Henry Diggory! The dumbest boy in all of Hogwarts!"
“He knows so little... and yet, knows it so fluently,” Tom scoffed.
Murdoch and Tom doubled over laughing, each one had tears streaming down his face.
"And guess what?" Carrey said abruptly, breaking their little laugh-fest. "Here's my chance to ask Miriam now!”
Once Miriam found the books she needed, she sat down at an unoccupied table when someone walked over toward her. Not bothering to look up, as she figured it was probably just Tom coming to visit, she said, "Hello, Tom."
"Hello, Miriam," a long, drawling voice answered.
Startled, she looked up and realized that the voice didn't belong to her brother at all. Instead, she nearly had a heart attack when she saw who it was. "Carrey!" she squeaked, almost upsetting her inkbottle. "W-What are you doing here?" Nervously looking around the library making sure nothing was out of the ordinary, she asked him again what he wanted.
"Nothing," he replied, a dodgy grin slowly extending across his face. Miriam was starting to get a very uneasy feeling. If she was the brunt of some mean joke, she didn't want to stick around and wait for the fireworks to happen.
"Um, look, I... I’ve got to go," she mumbled promptly, picking up her Arithmancy books.
"Wait!" he called out. She stopped and turned around to face him.
"What?" she asked, eyeing him rather mistrustfully.
"I just wanted to ask if you'd like to go to the Christmastide celebration with me. I mean, someone like you should go out with someone who can help elevate your status of being a common, lowly Mudblood," Carrey replied authoritatively.
"You’re bloody joking right? You think I should go to the Christmastide celebration... with you?!" Miriam asked, absolutely sickened by such a disgusting and atrocious thought. Carrey simply nodded his head in agreement.
I think I'd rather have a hemorrhoid....
Her face began to scrunch up into a weird and distorted appearance, as though there was a rather nasty smell under her nose.
"Most girls would leap at the chance to go to the Christmastide celebration with me."
Maybe if their heads were screwed on backwards and their eyes were sealed shut....
"So, what do you say? A date?"
How about NOT, loser!
Carrey brought his hand up to stroke Miriam's face.
"You should feel honored that I'd even want to go with a Mudblood ” especially you," he commented. His face was now but an inch from hers. Surely he would have would have kissed her had she not pulled away from him so violently.
"Touch me again and you'll die!" she replied aggressively, her teeth clenched.
"Well? Will you go with me?" he asked again.
"Not if I had a choice between you or the squid in the lake!" she yelled, pulling forcefully away from Carrey again. He was a persistent little bugger who kept inching his way closer to her. With her free hand, she slapped Carrey hard across his face and stormed out of the library.
"Well, I must admit, that was rather entertaining," Tom gibed. Carrey, who returned with a deep red slap mark on his face, was met by his friends’ two grinning faces.
"Very much so," Murdoch agreed. "So, what do you do for an encore, Carrey?"
"Shut-up you two," Carrey murmured, swinging his hands at the two of them as he walked off.
"Hey! Come back here! You still owe me two galleons!" Tom replied indignantly, holding his hand out.
September 17th, 1941,
Today, I held my first meeting as Quidditch captain....
---
Miriam was standing in the middle of the locker room, looking out onto her greatly dwindled Quidditch team. The team now only consisted of her, Carl Potter, and Aaron Wood.
“Uh, well,” she began nervously, not sure where to start, “we need to fill in our roster a little bit more.”
“I’ll say,” Carl bantered.
Miriam rolled her eyes. “Look, I know the season doesn’t begin until November, but we need to find and train new players before then. Abby left me in charge, and I feel we should try to keep up our winning streak.”
“Hear, hear,” Aaron yelled.
Miriam smiled. “Tryouts for two Chasers and a one Beater will be on October first. Please help me spread the word.”
“Will do,” they both said.
Miriam smiled radiantly. She couldn’t wait to hold her first tryout as captain.
September 19th, 1941,
I can’t believe it! Sophie and Marcella want to try out for the team! They want to be the two new Chasers! I told them that they would have to try out for it, along with the others who want that position....
---
“That’s not a problem!” Sophie exclaimed, her eyes aglow.
“It seems like such fun! All that flying and excitement!” Marcella added.
“Well, if you want to give it a go, tryouts are on October first,” Miriam replied.
For many of the days leading up to October first, Miriam was quite understandably anxious. What if her friends did really badly and she had to tell them they couldn’t make the team?
Or worse... they’re excellent players and I decide to put them on the team, but everyone thinks I did it just because they’re my friends....
The one thing she was most looking forward to was now the thing she was dreading the most of all.
October 1st, 1941,
Right now I’m in the library trying to compose myself. In just a few minutes, I will be holding my first ever Quidditch tryout as captain. I would be lying if I didn’t say I was feeling nervous. Yet somehow, merely saying I’m nervous just doesn’t cover exactly how I’m feeling. This morning I hardly ate anything at breakfast. I feel more apprehensive now than when I played in my first ever Quidditch game. I... oh, I have to go now. Carl just meandered his way in here wondering what “the hell I’m doing here when I should be out on the field....”
---
She rushed out of the library, totally forgetting her diary, and ran to follow Carl out to the Quiddich pitch.
“Okay everyone,” Miriam announced to the crowd of eager students that evening at Quidditch tryouts. There were loads of students milling about, each one hoping to be named to one of the three open positions. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
“We’ll be testing all those who want to Chasers first. So all of you who want to try for that position, please go to the right of the field. Those that want to try for Beater, please go to the left.”
Pulling out her list of the students names she had acquired, from inside her robes, she began reading off their names.
“First up... Cecilia Kwan.”
A small, second year Asian girl came forward, and Miriam gave her a reassuring smile.
“I was nervous during my first tryout, too,” she whispered to the girl who seemed to unwind a bit after that. She mounted the school broom that Miriam had set out for those that didn’t have their own brooms and pushed off the ground.
Cecilia had good broom control, but she wasn't very efficient with handling the Quaffle. Miriam crossed her name off the list and moved onto the next person waiting in line.
By the end of the night, Miriam was thoroughly exhausted from the tryouts, but it was worth it in the end as the Gryffindor team now had two new members on its team ” one was her friend Marcella Thomas and the other was Hannah Evans. Unfortunately, Sophie had flunked the tryout. Though she was quite exasperated that she had blown it, she decided, rather reluctantly, to become the Gryffindor team “official cheerer.”
Though Miriam and Marcella were in good spirits as they headed back to the castle, Sophie was still a bit perturbed by her dismal showing. “I can’t believe I did so... so “”
““ so crappy?” Marcella interjected.
“Yes,” Sophie replied darkly. “Yes, I did very crappy. Thank you for that assessment and the boost in confidence.”
“Hey! You said it yourself earlier!” Marcella exclaimed.
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you have to agree with me!”
Miriam had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing. She rolled her eyes as her two friends continued to bicker all the way to the castle. When they stepped through the front doors, Miriam’s giggly euphoria was suddenly interrupted as she had just remembered that she had left her diary in the library.
“Damn, I forgot my diary in the library! I have to go get it! Don’t wait up for me!” Miriam yelled to her friends as she sped off into the direction of the library. Bloody hell, I hope nobody read it....
It was late into the evening (tryouts had lasted much longer than she had expected) and most everyone was either in their common rooms or still coming in from watching the tryouts. Miriam had to rush if she wanted to make it to the library without being caught for wandering around the school at night.
It was dark inside the library, so she had to strain her eyes to see around.
Tip-toeing through, she reached the table and spotted her diary still laying there, hopefully untouched. Picking it up, she turned around to leave, when she heard a weird sound coming from down one of the aisles of books.
“The heir of Slytherin is the only one who can open the Chamber of Secrets. The heir is a Parselmouth (having the ability to talk to snakes) who uses his abilities to open the secret entrance to the Chamber and to control the monster that dwells within.”
Quietly gazing down the aisles one-by-one, she eventually found Tom sitting by himself in one of the aisles, supporting an enormous book in his lap with his left hand; he held his wand in his right hand for light.
“Wow... I wish I was the heir of Slytherin,” he muttered.
Miriam slowly crept out of sight as he continued reading from his large book. “Salazar Slytherin created the monster that inhabits the Chamber, waiting for his one true heir to release it and rid the school of the un-pure.”
Tom looked up with an undecipherable look on his face as Miriam crept back into the darkness as not to be seen by him.
“Wait a minute,” he mumbled. “If what Mr. Nott had said was true, and I’m... I’m.... It can’t be....”
Miriam looked over again and saw a glimmer of a smirk on his face.
"The heir of Slytherin... the heir....,” he whispered over and over again, savoring every word on the tip of his tongue.
“The basilisk would purge the school of the un-pure,” he continued, reading from the massive book. “The un-pure... hmmm... it must mean the Muggle-borns.” He stared out into space as a small corner of his mouth curled up into a twisted smirk.
Miriam lurked back behind the bookshelf again. What she just heard didn’t sound like the brother she knew at all.
As silent and quiet as a church mouse, she made her way out of the library. Off in the distance she heard the familiar voice of Maugi, the caretaker.
If he catches me, I’m in deep trouble.
Dashing to her left, she ran the rest of the way back to the common room.
“D-D-Devil’s Snare!” she huffed to the portrait.
“Correct.” The fat lady’s portrait swung open and Miriam ran inside.
October 20th, 1941,
I heard something rather shocking today. And strange enough, it came from Tom’s own mouth.
---
As Miriam left her Arithmancy class that day, she passed through a ceiling-less hallway on her way to her Transfiguration lessons. The cool air felt good after being in a stuffy classroom for part of the morning.
Walking down the hallway, she passed by Tom and a few other Slytherin boys whom she didn't recognize. They were casually leaning back on a brick wall, talking avidly amongst themselves. From where she was at, she could hear bits and pieces of their conversation.
““ the Junior Knights ““
They were looking down onto a large gathering of first and second year students who milling about on the front grounds, heading to their next class.
"Look at those little Mudbloods," Tom laughed conceitedly, as he and his cronies watched a few of the first years run by them.
“Excuse me,” Miriam said walking up to him, “but I object to the use of the term Mudblood.”
“Hey Tom, isn’t that your sister?” one of the boys asked, poking him roughly in the abdomen.
“Yeah,” he gasped, grasping his stomach where he had just been jabbed.
“You’re going to be late for class,” she added as she stopped in front of him. The two boys started to laugh.
“Hey, Tom, you don’t want to be late now, do you?” one of them mocked. Tom closed his eyes and wholly wished the earth would open up swallow him whole.
Miriam heaved a sigh and then left him to his two ridiculing friends. But the thought of her brother using such a derogatory term like Mudblood sent shivers through her and turned her blood cold.