Anupama came rushing out of her room and banged into an attendant. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ she muttered, running along the corridor and towards the library, where Tom was sitting.
All along the way, people were in tightly knit groups, whispering among themselves about the events that had transpired. Not a single soul wasn’t discussing the good news.
She barged into the library and found Tom to be the only person in it.
‘Tom! Did you hear?’
‘I am busy. Can we talk later, please?’
‘Forget your silly books right now! Did you hear?’ she demanded, panting slightly.
‘No.’
‘Dumbledore did it! He defeated Grindelwald! Our Dumbledore! The Transfiguration one!’
The book fell out of his hands. ‘What?’
‘Yes! Can you believe it? Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald! Grindelwald is shut up in his own prison, Nurmengard!’ Anupama exclaimed happily. ‘The wizarding world is free once more!’
Tom did not seem as happy as he should have been. He merely got a strange look on his face, somewhere between triumph and anxiety. ‘I see’ was all he said, though.
‘Do you want to come out? Mr. Bartholomew is treating all of us to drinks!’
‘Ah, of course, if Mr. Bartholomew is in the question,’ he mocked.
Anupama blushed.
It had been two weeks since they had set sail from England, and Anupama had already made a pleasant acquaintance. Mr. John Bartholomew was twenty one years of age, had a large amount of gold in Gringotts, and very good looking: broad shoulders, long brown locks, and blue eyes that resembled the Indian summer sky.
It did not particularly help that Tom had figured out that she was very fond of John. She had accidentally given it away when they were discussing him. Since then, Tom did not tease her about it, but whenever he was mentioned, he just became very sarcastic and mocking.
Well, yes, he teased her. A bit.
‘Come, then!’ she said, rolling her eyes. He got up and followed her outside as she flew past.
Outside, in the bright-not unbearably-morning sun, stood John, bowing when he noticed her.
‘Miss Patil-’
‘Call me Anupama.’
‘Anupama, then-would you and Mr. Riddle care for a drink?’
Anupama looked back at Tom and grinned triumphantly. ‘Shall we, Tom?’
He raised his eyebrows.
Anupama mouthed the word ‘Please’. If Tom displayed some of his contempt of Bartholomew here, all her hopes would be dashed. And she was so fond of John.
Then, Tom smiled-a real smile. ‘Of course.’
Anupama sighed with relief-inwardly, of course. Taking the hand John offered her, she proceeded to start chattering about how great Dumbledore was, and how he had taught her at Hogwarts-
‘You studied in Hogwarts?’ He looked surprised.
‘Why, yes, of course! And you?’
‘Beauxbatons.’
‘Oh! I see. Pardon me for asking, but are your uniforms really baby blue?’
***
Meanwhile, Tom was feeling very ignored. The lovebirds in front of him went on chatting, discussing Shakespeare.
Shakespeare, for Merlin’s sake. Tom snorted. Why did he even care about whom Anupama chatted with? She was merely a tool, a guide; once her job was done, he was going to have to kill her anyways: she would have known too much by then…
‘I say, we completely forgot Mr. Riddle!’ Bartholomew exclaimed, turning back.
He sneered. ‘Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Bartholomew. I am perfectly fine by myself.’
‘Oh, look! We have reached,’ said Anupama hastily, almost dragging Bartholomew to the bar.
Tom couldn’t help but chuckle to himself about how she doted on the man, while he could see right through all the politeness and etiquette. Bartholomew was a complete phony, not a man of Anupama’s intellect. And he knew that Anupama was of a very high intellect-at least, if all her ‘O’s were to be believed. She had also passed her N.E.W.T.s with flying colors: Professors Flitwick and Slughorn adored her. Even Dumbledore was very pleased with her.
Anupama was the first Patil to be in Slytherin; usually it would have been Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. They were never good friends, but Tom was always well informed, thanks to his friends, all of whom she had dated, except for him. He had always wondered why; he was as good looking as Arcturus Black, as much of a teacher’s pet as anybody.
But he had never cared for her anyways. Who would want plain, studious brunette prefect Anupama Patil when they could have the beautiful redhead Quidditch captain Minerva McGonagall?
Sadly, he and Minerva had broken up once she discovered his little group, the Death Eaters. She was very angry, but disappointed as well…
“Tom, a word, if you please.”
“Minerva.”
“Parkinson told me something. Something about you.”
He sighed; he knew what was coming. “The Death Eaters, isn’t it?”
“I never thought it of you, Tom…I don’t think you are the Tom Riddle I knew. You have changed.”
“Minerva-”
“I’m sorry, Tom. We can’t be together now, unless you change your views.”
“Perhaps you can change yours? Minerva, you are the first blood traitor of your family. That is all. Together we can turn the wizarding world around.”
“Dumbledore thinks-”
“Dumbledore may think a lot of things-but it is your choice: to follow a Muggle-loving fool, or someone who is slowly stepping towards eternal glory.”
“As a tyrant? I don’t think so.” She stepped forwards and put a hand on his shoulder. “Tom. What you’re doing is wrong. See the error of your ways before it is too late.”
He shook it off. “I guess this is goodbye, then, Minerva McGonagall.” With a final kiss on her lips-more out of desperation than anything else-he walked away.
Tom stuck his hands into his pockets and started walking slowly, thinking if he really had made a mistake in choosing this path.
But then his ancestor came to his mind. Salazar Slytherin, who fought, who dared to separate himself from his close ones to fight for his beliefs.
Why should Tom rethink his decision for a wayward, stupid witch who was being misled?
Minerva McGonagall was nothing to him, nothing. No one could make him change his beliefs, neither friends, nor family…not that he had any left.
‘Come on, Tom, stop brooding about whatever it is that you are brooding about,’ someone said cheerfully. Of course, the only person who talked to him on this ship in such an audacious manner was Anupama.
‘Have you had your drink? Can we get back to the library?’ he asked impatiently.
Anupama sighed exasperatedly. ‘Yes. Thank you for behaving.’
Making sure to walk three steps ahead of her, he started towards the library, eager to get back to his book. Not that he was actually going to read it now. He had a lot of other things to ponder about.
Finally reaching the huge room, he sat down on the couch where he had been sitting previously and picked the book up. Hamlet, it was called. It was slightly contradictory that he was mocking Anupama and Bartholomew for discussing Shakespeare when he himself rather enjoyed the playwright’s work.
He had not even gotten past the Dramatis Personae when Anupama had come tearing into his privacy.
Dumbledore had defeated Grindelwald…that was a big victory. But that would mean that Dumbledore would get more political power; the Ministry would try to appoint him Minister, the Wizengamot would make him Head Warlock, of course. And an Order of Merlin, First Class, was probably on the way, too.
Dumbledore was gaining more fame, more power, and this meant bad news for Tom. He had to stop this. But how? Dumbledore was already on his way to becoming Headmaster, since Dippet had died.
‘Tom.’
He did not answer her. She had already disturbed him once.
‘Tom.’
‘Yes?’
‘Aren’t-aren’t you happy?’
‘Happy?’ What should he have been happy for? ‘Why, did John ask you to marry him?’
Out of the corner of his eye, Tom could see Anupama’s thin hands curl into fists. When she answered, though, her tone was very polite.
‘No, of course not. I was asking about Grindelwald’s defeat. Aren’t you happy that we will not be subject to his tyranny any more?’
He looked up. ‘Of course I’m happy. Can I go back to my book now?’
‘I guess so.’
Silence elapsed again.
‘Tom.’
‘What now?’
‘Did you-did you open the Chamber of Secrets three years ago?’
Tom’s throat closed up, and he clutched the book so tight that his knuckles turned white. ‘I-no, of course not, woman!’
How did she know? Nobody knew that it was him, and not Rubeus Hagrid that had opened the Chamber of Secrets and killed that girl, Myrtle, or whatever her name was. Who could have told her? Dumbledore suspected him, he knew, but could it be enough to tell a fellow student, even if the student was a prefect?
It had to be Dumbledore. No one else even had a remote inkling of a thought that polite, handsome prefect Tom Riddle could have done something so horrid.
But she knew of the Death Eaters. What was the harm in telling her that he had opened the Chamber of Secrets?
No. He could not say it to her. What would she think of him? A liar, a coward, a cheat, a killer. Certainly not an ideal first impression.
‘I was just asking. I won’t tell anyone, you know,’ she said imploringly.
Hamlet snapped shut sharply and Tom stood up. ‘I did not open the Chamber of Secrets, Anupama,’ he hissed before exiting the room and her uncomfortable presence.
The Dance of the Snake Charmers by go go ravenclaw
Chapter Notes: Well, here it is...after a long, undeserved three month-wait...I'm sorry, I know, but it got rejected and I never got around to editing it. And the only problem was a little hyphen. :-P Anyways, enjoy and don't forget the little lonely review box down there!