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Professor Tom Riddle
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Tall dark and handsome. I couldn’t even keep my eyes on him the first time I saw him at the professor’s dining table. I just saw dark eyes with rich dark brown hair styled like those men in the magazines I saw mother read. All the girls were probably just as focused on him since with every swing of his long robes, I heard high squeals and giggles. I kept my eyes down, refusing to be like the rest of them. I saw the toothy smiles and gangly bodies of the students who were sitting in four divided tables. I glanced up towards the floating candles and colored lights and ribbons that were twirling through the air. Magic. It took my breathe away.
I kept my eyes down, when walking up to the sorting hat. Feeling hot from the excitement in the air, the shouting of the Gryffindor’s table when the brown wrinkly hat
I missed the curious glance of a certain professor as I hopped off the bench and hurried my way over to my new housemates.
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I was getting the hang of it. Of magic. I spent night after night reading through scrolls and texts from the library. The aged parchment felt like heaven. It distracted me from how the girls were being catty. I simply turned my nose up at them. I had only tried to help get our house some points to win the cup. It was only after the 2nd day, when I was called a know it all. Really, they should be ashamed that someone who had just found out about the existence of magic over the summer knew more than someone who born into it.
I was sitting in the very front row in defense against the dark arts. There was an empty seat on either side of me. I pushed my back straight. Hermione Jean Granger was strong. Petty gossip doesn’t affect me. I sat in the front in every class, but for this class, being in the front was always a little bit of a competition. It was Professor Riddle’s course. I still could only see at him from my peripherals and mainly focused on his tie. Every time I met his gaze, my cheeks bloomed red. I was mortified, when he smirked. I probably looked like a wild tomato patch, complete with red cheeks and bundles of unruly hair. It was the only class where I couldn’t bear to answer all the questions. It was not like I had anything to prove anyways. Only when he seemed exasperated with the dull answers he was getting did I dare to open my mouth.
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It was close to a few months later, when the bulling got worse. Coincidentally, it was the same time when Tom started to call me “Dear Hermione”.
Tell me Dear.
Yes, my Dear?
The differentiation was almost too much to bear. His smiled was dazzingly. And the others noticed.
The Slytherin girls were especially furious.
He found me crying in the bathroom. Buck teeth. And a hair that was recklessly cut. Big bulky uneven choppy ends. The girls went away with a well placed bat bogue jinx and a tongue swelling spell. But it was three to one. And the thought of being in a magical school with no one to turn to, had my heart sinking. My sniffling washed away the sound of slow measured footsteps that were coming towards me. When I saw the pair of black shiny shoes I sprung up, gripping my wand hard. Casting expelliarmus, pushing all my anger into it. All sorrow and hateful energy I kept bottling inside since coming to this bloody school. It felt like taking a hammer to a shook soda can. All I wanted to do was slam it down, mercilessly.
I heard the wand clacking into the corner. I smiled viciously, roughly wiping the tears from my eyes. I could only see blurry outlines.
With my wand still pointed straight, I blotted my face with the cuff of my robe. Then almost dropped my wand in the process when I saw Professor Riddle with his hands up in a passive position.
I spluttered, “Oh Professor! I apologize. I thought..” I hurriedly put my wand in my pocket and bobbed my head in time with my strings of “S-orry, so sorry. I-I sorry.”
He drawled out, “It is quite all right. I should know better than to sneak up on an accomplished witch such as yourself.”
I felt relieved. Like the air was being pushed right back into my lungs. I scurried over to where I expelled his wand, so I could give it back to him. 13½", dark brown. Yew.
He took it gently from my hands.
“You should show more of that fire in the classroom. You overthink, and its slows you down.”
I felt chastised. Shame bubbling up in me again, remember his signs when I would be out for the count in duels. I outperformed everyone else in all the other subjects. But dueling … was hard for me. And the other students really had it out for me too.
I felt a firm hand on my hair. I looked up in surprise, searching his dark eyes from something. He was angry. Eyes narrowed and face stern. I almost whimpered. Unable to stand having the professors hate me too, especially Riddle.
He spoke quietly, “Who did this to you? Your hair…. and teeth…”
I had forgotten about that. I covered my head with my hands. I must look horrible. Red eyes and runny nose was awful enough, but accompanied with the curses? I wanted to hide. I wanted to run away, and I almost did. But he laid a firm hand on my shoulders.
“Keep still” he commanded. I could only obey. He twirled his wand this way and that. Non verbal magic. And I could feel my hair growing once more. Seeing the curly ends creeping down my arms. And the pressure of the buck teeth on my lips lessened as well.
He turned me towards the mirrors, we were still in the girl’s bathroom. I saw that I was normal again. I still had my red puffy eyes. And he. He was behind me, more than two heads taller than I was. Towering over me physically but also in his regal presence.
“There. All better now. No need to shed any tears.” I nodded.
He looked at my closely in the mirror. “You have talent, there is not many who can successfully catch me off guard.” I only stared at him, wide eyed.
“Why don’t I teach you something better than Expelliarmus?”
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He taught me a spell that kept the girls away from me. Terror went through my veins, when I saw the girl crash to the ground, screaming. This wasn’t what was suppose to happen.
I looked in horror like the rest of them. They started to spew words of how they will get me expelled. That Dumbledore will throw me in Azkaban. I felt something in me snap. There was a whisper that suggested in my ear how I could fix this. Shut them up Hermione, do not let them threaten you.
I positioned my wand towards another girl and cast it again.
I shouted at them, “Say one word! One word to anybody! And I will curse you all in your sleep every night!” I felt mad, driven into a corner like rat. I just wanted to study magic. I was desperate. I will not leave Hogwarts. It hissed at me again. You will never leave Hogwarts.
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I felt scared. I never did anything like that before. It was dark now, and I was in bed shivering. What if. I deserve to get expelled. I did something terrible. Did I cast it wrong? What did he teach me? There was no way… Professor Riddle, he was the most upstanding DADA Hogwarts had to offer. The youngest to ever be admitted a teaching position. He had broken the NEWTS and OWL records. The nerves were eating me from the inside. I hurriedly got dressed and ran towards his office, he may still be there. Turns out he was.
The room only be lit by the few candled scattered on his desk. He smiled when he was me. But it did not fill me with ease the way it usually did.
I didn’t know how to start. He looked at me shrewdly. Like he knew why I was here, but he didn’t say anything. I fidgeted.
I blurted out, “The spell, it didn’t work like it was supposed to.”
He leaned back into his chair. He arched a brow, “What did the spell do then exactly?”
“It hurt them. A lot. T-they were in pain.” He mulled that over.
“Did they leave you alone?”
I slammed my foot down. “That is not the point. I could get expelled! You could get in trouble too!”
His eyes glinted at that. “You will not be getting expelled. As long as you are not weak.”
He sneered the last word. “And what do I have to do with you hurting other students? I did not cast a spell? I was not even there.”
I felt trapped. What was happening. Why was he acting like this. I felt the inner churning in my stomach, it felt like betrayal.
“B-But you taught me the spell.” I started
He waved his hand dismissively. “I teach a lot of spell. I am the defense against the dark arts professor if you hadn’t noticed. It is my job to do this.”
I stepped back from him. I didn’t know this man. He was someone else, something else.
He suddenly appeared before me.
I was frozen, but I pinched myself out of it.
“Expelliarmis!” I shouted
He flicked his wrist and directly my spell away.
“Not fast enough my dear”
I almost cried.
He was right in front of me now, and he deftly plucked my wand from my hand.
He smoothed his hand over my cheek, I could only stare at him. Wondering at his next move.
“Why the fear and shock? Did I not teach you what you wanted to know? To overcome your adversaries? Were they not tormenting you without reason?” he murmured.
“It was not right… it was against school rules.” He gave a dark chuckle at that.
“Life doesn’t not follow a theorem that ensures justice or reward righteousness. If there is one, it would be life and then death. It is up to the individual to grasp at every chance they have. To protect themselves and strive forward.”
“Am I wrong?”
I didn’t necessarily agree with him but gave a nod regardless. I just wanted to leave.
He ran his fingers through my hair. “You will see. When observing those girls tomorrow. Now go back”
I rushed out of the room back to my dorm. In the dark dimly lit corridors.
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The girls did not even look at me. I had braced myself for the fury of the headmaster during breakfast, but nothing came. I was still sitting alone eating my toast. They weren’t going to tell? I glanced at Professor Riddle who was shining brightly at the head table. Exchanging words with the Potions professor, Snape. That professor didn’t seem to like me. He was mean to everyone however, except for a few select Slytherins. As if feeling my stare, Riddle met my eye, and smiled. It was his classic smile. The one the girls fawned over, but it didn’t light me up this time. It felt much darker. He wasn’t the nice and charming professor I thought he was. His look then grew more pointed. As if to tell me, see? What did I tell you before.
I shoved a forkful of eggs into my mouth. Trying to look busy. Trying to press down this deep elated feeling I was having. It was wrong, but it meant I was staying here. At Hogwarts.
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I did not sit in the front row anymore during DADA. His prominent visage, it was too much. I knew that I was the only one to know this side of him. He was gallant and just the perfect gentleman to all the other students. To Slytherins and others. It hurt to know that it just a visage. I had a creeping premonition, that being close to him would only drag me down further into some nihilistic depth. Where values, where life didn’t matter. Only myself and my deeds. It scared me. So I stayed away.
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I befriended some Ravenclaws. They appreciated me, I wondered if the sorting hat made a mistake. I should have been sorted to them. Tall brown haired girl with spectacles, Agatha and another first year student Ren. They could have been siblings. But turns out they were distant cousins. Both tall, dark mahogany hair, and paired with different styled glasses. I couldn’t help but grin everything I saw Agatha’s red rimmed circle glasses and Ren’s thick square ones. I met with them after lunch nearly every day talking about new books that had come up and controversial potions brewing techniques. Our aversion to Snape only drew us closer. I felt like a had a place. It was wonderful. I used it to district myself from the knowing glances of Riddle whenever he passed by the library.
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He found me alone in the corridor. I was late to getting into the dorm. I only had three minutes to run from the library to make it in time. I was leaving the library with three hefty tomes. I thought of running, but the tomes would weigh me down. It would probably piss him off to be ignored, or even worse elate him. Gryffindor courage indeed.
I stood my ground. He stepped slowly towards me, making a show of checking his watch. He shook his head condescendingly. His robes swaying around him. Looking prominent as ever, not in the least bit perturbed.
“You will never make it to your dorm in time” he remarked. “All the way past the west wing moving staircases to the tower.”
“You would give a student trying to borrow books to study detention for being at most 4 minutes over bed time?” I asked in half disbelief.
“I would give detention for being…” He paused. Glancing back down at his watch. Rotating it this way and that. “-for being 5 minutes late.”
My jaw dropped. The nerve! All my nerves drained away and was replaced by fury. Expulso was on the tip of my tongue. I surprised him once, I could do it again.
“Detention with me, tomorrow morning my dear.”
“That is not fair!” I slammed my foot down. I did not want to be stuck with him the whole day. I rather deal with Snape’s rudeness. He hated all Gryffindor’s, it was easier to endure when you knew exactly where you stood.
He raised an eyebrow at that but continued anyway, “Unless you wish for further discipline, lets say like, revoking someone’s library card for a month. I suggest you do not be late tomorrow.”
I could only gape at him. My fury simmering down at the threat but not enough. For I stomped my way up the corridor without another word to him.
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In broad daylight, as I walked up to his office, I was much more timid. The fire from last night had mellowed over. I deserve this detention and much more. I winced thinking of the girls from the bathroom, its been weeks and there have been no word from them. Just tense glances.
I knocked on the big wooden door.
It opened immediately, I saw him wave his hand from his desk. Barely glancing at me, writing with his quill at a fast pace.
I stepped closer. I wondered at what detention was like. I had never received one before.
“This will not show up on my permanent transcript will it?” I couldn’t help but asking.
He looked up then, “Maybe not, depends on how the session ends today”
I kept from grinding my teeth. Over my dead body will this show up on my permanent record.
He looked amused. Like he was reading my thoughts.
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I helped him with grading the whole day. He liberally handed out Trolls like it was something to be admired. Quickly skimming the parchments. Getting out a quill that red ink, and using that to mark up the pages quite extensively.
I recorded the results onto the ledger and sorted the papers. When he encountered a blunder on a paper, he snarked at length about the whole history of the subject. I ended up learning quite a bit from his remarks. He was brilliant, but I had already known that.
Time passed quickly; he had not been bad company. Although he had a constant scowl on his face while paging through the parchments. I was feeling flushed while looking at him, without his veneer. In a twisted way, I felt a small sense of pride knowing I was the only one who saw him like this. I knew that this was truly him. Arrogant, confident, but brilliant. The soft glow of the candles only set to serve the mood. Highlighting his face in shades. I wanted to take a polaroid picture.
And in my heart, I knew this was wrong. He was not the teacher I thought he was. A man who could rival kind and understanding Dumbledore. My stomach tugged down remember the look of horror on the girl’s face on the bathroom floor. Screaming. Contorting. Unable to stop it, when all the power in the world was in the wand in her hand.
“You are thinking too hard”, he said offhanded.
Boldly I told him, “I am not. I am thinking just enough.” Although I felt nervous, he could read me so easily when he was not even paying attention to me.
He glanced back at me then, eyes narrowed and stern.
“Try not to hurt yourself thinking so hard on pointless subjects.” I huffed, offended. His blatant disregard for people was a good reminder on why I should not find him so handsome.
“What is done is done. And if you want to continue your education here, I suggest you forget all about it. It seems those girls did. Try to remember that it was you who said yes to learning the spell. I did not persuade you at all then. Endeavor to not lay the fault on to others.”
I was getting angry but his last words send me boiling. “Also, here is your paper. Nine points off.”
Nine! That was nearly a whole grade letter! I stared at the parchment with red slashes found here and there. And at the end a taunting yet elegant cursive scrawl of “Try harder next time.”
I looked up, seeing the obvious amusement in his eyes. I took a deep breathe and stomped my way out of the room. Not looking back once.
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