Chapter 12 - Grindelwald and Games

Written by Nemesis

The next month went by so quickly that Tom barely knew where the time had gone. He still maintained his excellent grades, and he quickly made friends with all of the Slytherin first-years. The ghosts were kind, as always, and the classes were getting more interesting. Transfiguration, in particular, was growing to be a weekly fascination. Tom and the seventh-years were studying very difficult transformations now, and though Tom always managed to do the assignments, they were getting steadily harder. Professor Dumbledore was teaching them conjuring, now, and he said that by December they would be getting into the transformation of other humans. He mentioned something about Animagi, or wizards who could turn into animals at will. Professor Dumbledore then demonstrated by turning into a bumblebee and zooming around the room. Tom was intrigued, and he thought that he might be interested in turning into an animal himself.

Another thing Tom found enjoyable was that second- through seventh-years were allowed to attend optional night classes. Tom signed up for four of them. The first was the Dueling Club, taught by Professor Flitwick. After that, Ghost Studies, taught by Professor Dumbledore. Tom had signed up for the other two classes because his friends forced him. There was Song Magic, which Zuhayr had bullied him into attending after hearing him sing, and the Magical Artist's Guild, because the whole of Slytherin House knew that Tom was a very good artist, and had threatened to pelt him with bubotuber pus if he did not sign up.

As he entered the common room after his very first Magical Arts lesson in late September, he found it in complete silence. Serena and Mandy Birch were sitting on a loveseat, staring at a letter they had received with tears flowing quietly down their faces. The other Slytherins clearly felt awkward, and Larkin was trying to comfort the Birch sisters, but to no avail. Everyone looked up when he entered.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

Serena silently handed him the letter, and the two girls burst into noisy sobs. Tom read the message. His face drained of color and he sank into a nearby chair.

Dear Amanda and Serena Birch,

I regret to inform you that your mother and father,
Constance and Trowbridge Birch, have been killed in
France. They went after Grindelwald with a group of
other Aurors, and the action resulted in their
respective deaths. I hope it will somewhat comfort
you to know that your parents died in pursuit of a
good cause, and they will both receive the Order of
Merlin, First Class, for their bravery and loyalty.

You will be placed in the custody of your maternal
aunt, Mrs. Meliora Weasley, and her husband, Mr.
Blake Weasley. I hope you understand the situation,
and I would like to offer my personal sympathies. I
understand that this will be very hard for you, but
you must understand that your parents died in an
attempt to save the lives of others, and they
succeeded in preventing the deaths of seventy
Beauxbatons pupils. Their deaths were noble ones.

Again, I am very sorry for your loss.

Yours Truly,


Dolan H. Clarence
Minister of Magic


Tom looked up from the letter and handed it back to Mandy. "Mandy, Serena, I am so, so sorry." Mandy nodded silently, tears sliding down her cheeks. Serena ripped the letter into tiny pieces, threw the pieces into the fire, and stomped up to her dormitory, still quaking with sobs. "Look, if there's anything I can do--"

Without warning, Mandy dashed at him, flung her arms around his neck, and began crying into his shoulder. "Thank you," Mandy wept. "Thank you for being so nice!"

"Er--" Not quite sure what to do, Tom patted Mandy on top of the head, grimacing slightly.

"I hate Grindelwald!" Mandy wailed, burying her face into Tom's collarbone. "I just hate him! Why does he have to kill people he doesn't even know?"

"Basket cases are like that," Tom said uncomfortably, trying to pry Mandy's arms off his neck and console her at the same time. It suddenly occurred to him that this was only the second time in his life he had really been hugged. If truth be told, he was not sure he liked it very much. "Don't worry, Mandy, he'll get his someday." Mandy wailed more loudly and hugged him so hard it felt like a headlock.

"Er… Mandy, I'm sure I know how you feel, but I'm in an awful lot of pain right now. Could you--er--" Mandy did not pay him any heed; if anything, the hug tightened considerably. The right shoulder of Tom's robes was starting to feel damp. "Mandy, I--erm, I'm really tired. I have to go to sleep." This was a lie, but Tom would have done anything to get the little girl off of his neck.

Mandy reluctantly broke away. Her nose was very red. "You're so understanding," she sighed, blowing her nose loudly into a handkerchief. "Thanks."

Now Tom had no choice but to go up to the dormitory. He feigned a yawn on his way up, just to make it convincing. When he reached the dormitory, he realized that Francis was following him. "What do you want?" he demanded.

Francis smirked. "Manners, Riddle," he said. "You coming to the Dueling Club meeting tomorrow?"

"Yes," Tom said again. Francis laughed coldly.

"How d'you fancy a duel?" he challenged. "Tomorrow. I'll partner up with you at the Dueling Club, and then we'll see if you're as good as you think you are."

"You know I am," Tom retorted. He was smiling slightly, but his voice was icy. "If you'll remember on the Hogwarts Express on our very first day…" He trailed off, watching Francis frown. "I'll accept your challenge, stupid though it may be."

"You're on, Mudblood," Francis replied. As he turned to go, Tom, furious at being called a Mudblood, took out his wand and shouted a few well-chosen words. His spell lit the dormitory with a blazing golden light, and Francis's legs suddenly gave way. He seemed not to be able to stand up properly. "What did you do to me?" he gasped.

"Jelly-legs," Tom replied casually. "I'm saving the real curses for our duel, though if you stick around, I might change my mind."

Francis stumbled down the stairs, his legs squiggling like worms. Tom allowed himself a laugh at his enemy's demise, and he sat down on his bed. It was only ten o'clock, and Tom usually stayed up far later than this. Feeling bored already, Tom called for Nepenthe. His pet emerged from beneath Richard Zabini's bed. "Hello, Nepenthe," he said, allowing the cobra to coil around his arm.

"What'sssss new?" Nepenthe asked.

"Well, I just had my first art lesson, I have a duel with Francis tomorrow, and Serena and Mandy's parents died."

"Ssssssounds like you've been busy."

"I suppose." Tom's face fell. "I'm worried, though. It sounds like Grindelwald's been getting more daring. I mean, he was in Eastern Europe first, wasn't he? Now I think he's in France. D'you think he's up to something?"

"Dark wizards are always up to ssssomething." Nepenthe sighed heavily. "Why do you insssissst on taking the troubles of the world upon your shoulders?"

"Because," Tom said, "if I'm right about what I am, I might have to deal with that monster. Of course, I could be wrong, but I doubt it. I looked up a few more things about the Circle of Light. A lot of the members of both Circles are descended from very important wizards. I mean, they say that Grindelwald's descended from Amelbius himself, and the last Circle of Light member was one of Merlin's descendants."

"And you are the lassssst living relative of Ssssalazar Ssssslytherin," Nepenthe finished. "Wasn't he a Dark wizard?"

Tom's eyes flashed with anger. "No. He studied the Dark Arts, but he did not practice them."

"Oh." Nepenthe looked confused. "Well, it sssseems that you fit all of the criteria for being a member of the Ccccircle, but I cannot sssssee you going after Grindelwald."

"Why not?"

Nepenthe laughed. "You are very young, Masssster. Whoever heard of a child defeating a Dark wizard?"

Tom felt mildly offended, but he did not pursue the subject. He and Nepenthe discussed other matters for a while, until Tom finally started to feel sleepy and decided to go to bed. Nepenthe bade him good night and slithered off into the shadows.

********************

"Help me…"

"Who's there?" Tom called. He was walking through a forest, and the fog was thick in front of him. He had his wand lit, but it was not doing much good. The fog was so dense that he could barely see an inch in front of his nose.

"Help me…" the voice repeated. "Don't let him get me… help me…"

"Where are you?" Tom demanded. The fog was getting slightly thinner, and Tom was able to see the dark outlines of the trees around him.

Without warning, footsteps could be heard, coming in his direction. Tom turned to look, terrified that he would see his specter again. However, all he saw was a little boy. The boy had bright green eyes under thick glasses, and his black hair was tousled. Seeing Tom, he flung himself at him, steadying himself on Tom's arms and gasping for breath. "Help me," the boy repeated. As he looked up, Tom saw that there was a great gash on his forehead, shaped rather like a bolt of lightning.

"What happened to you?" Tom asked, watching blood dribble out of the cut on the boy's forehead.

"He got me," the boy panted, indicating his cut. "Please, make him go away."

"Who?" Tom started to ask, but a tall, thin shape emerged from the trees. The only detail Tom could see of it was gleaming crimson eyes.

"Him," the boy wheezed. Blood was trickling into his eyes.

The specter laughed its cold laugh. "Hmmm… a double killing should not be too hard." It reached for its wand, and the little boy cried out. There was a green flash, the flash Tom had dreamt about for ages…

Tom woke up an instant later, his heart throbbing and his forehead searing. The pain seemed to be concentrated in a lightning bolt-shaped area in the middle of his forehead, directly adjacent to the slash on the head of the little boy. After a few seconds, it died away, but Tom was still left with that shaky, horrible feeling he had after every one of his specter dreams.

Shivering, he rolled over and looked at his alarm clock. It was seven o'clock, a reasonable hour. In fifteen minutes, he finished getting ready for class and trudged down the stairs. Though it was very warm in the castle, he felt strangely cold. When he reached the common room, it was deserted except for Serena and Mandy, who were conversing quietly. Tom passed them silently so as not to provoke another hug attack and sneaked out of the common room.

The Great Hall was a bustle of noise. Larkin was chewing on her lip, apparently disinterested by her waffles. "What's going on?" Tom asked.

She looked up suddenly, as though coming out of a trance. "What? Oh, hi, Tom. Apparently, Serena and Mandy's folks weren't the only ones to get killed. Millie Bertram and Eudora Mortimer in Hufflepuff both lost their fathers. Lucy Chubb's father's dead--"

"Really?" Tom stared over at the Gryffindors in disbelief. Lucy was not with them.

"Then there's the Ravenclaw crowd. They've been hit especially hard. Fowler and Humphrey Tibor lost their mum and dad. So did Tecla Laban. Zelda Stockley's uncle's insane. Too many shots of the Cruciatus Curse. He's in St. Mungo's."

Tom suddenly realized that there was someone else missing from the Ravenclaw table. "Where's Lili?" he asked, frowning.

Larkin sighed. "Her dad's in bad shape. Took a lot of powerful curses. I had a word with her, she's not taking it very well. I think she went back to her common room."

Tom nodded glumly and looked up at the staff table. Dippet looked gloomy, but Dumbledore was clearly furious. He had a copy of The Daily Prophet in front of him and was reading the article about the Aurors' assault on Grindelwald in France. He kept looking up at all the empty seats, and his face would darken even more. Tom thought how little he would like to be at the receiving end of that anger.

It was very hard for Tom to concentrate in class that day. He was so distracted by the recent developments that he almost forgot to go to the Dueling Club that night. However, he spotted Francis at dinner, then remembered his challenge. His face tensed, and he shot Francis a venomous glance. Francis merely smirked back and continued to brag to his third-year friends, a couple of burly bullies named Magnus Crabbe and Ulmer Goyle.

At nine o'clock sharp, Tom returned to the Great Hall, his wand in his hand. Many other students were there, as well. The House tables had vanished, and where the staff table usually was, there was a raised platform. None of Tom's closest friends had signed up, but he did recognize a few of the older students. He saw Francis, Magnus, and Ulmer near the platform, with Richard Zabini hopping up and down, trying to get their attention.

Professor Flitwick hurried onto the platform and shot purple sparks into the air from his wand. The crowd fell silent. Flitwick instructed them on some basic curses and hexes, the basic battle stances, and dueling rituals. "Now, partner up!" he squeaked, his high-pitched voice cracking slightly. He was so excited that he fell off his stool, landing in a crumpled pile on the platform. Tom rushed forward to make sure that Flitwick was all right, but apparently the little teacher was quite used to falling from such heights. He stood up hastily, nothing injured but his dignity.

"Remember our challenge, Riddle?" Francis sneered.

"How could I forget?" Tom replied spitefully, eyes glimmering.

Richard Zabini, looking very neglected, paired up with Courtney Gunther, a rather pretty Muggle-born Ravenclaw third-year. Magnus and Ulmer, naturally, partnered with each other. "Everyone ready?" Flitwick cried. "Battle stances." Tom could not suppress a giggle as Francis tripped over the hem of his robes. Blushing slightly, Francis got to his feet. "Now, bow."

Both Tom and Francis bowed in the same way; very slightly, hands on their wands, faces upturned. Tom remembered from his Muggle history lessons that bowing that way in Elizabethan times (as opposed to bowing with open arms and an inclined head) was a sign of insolent mistrust and usually provoked a violent response. He smiled mockingly at Francis, who returned the look with a vengeance. Professor Flitwick counted down, and when he reached one, the duels started.

Before Francis could get his hand on his wand properly, Tom had drawn his own. "Furunculus," Tom said immediately, and Francis stumbled backward. His shoulder had been covered with boils. As Francis attempted a simple Body-Bind spell, Tom reflected it, and it hit the wall instead. He then hit Francis with a spell that bowled him over and caused his hair to turn into feathers.

Furiously, Francis raised his wand and brought it down, screaming, "Mathuro!"

Tom managed to reflect this one, too, and it hit its conjurer. Francis's ears sprouted with leeks. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Tom decided to try out a little of the human transfiguration he had learned in his book. Murmuring an incantation, he sent a jet of semitransparent light in Francis's direction. All of the nearby duelers stopped and laughed. Francis had become a tiny, cranky-looking lobster, wielding his pincers and clicking. Another spell, and Francis the Lobster's pincers had been bound by conjured rubber bands.

Horrified, Professor Flitwick hurtled through the crowd. Tom was standing by, watching, a triumphant smile on his face, as Francis the Lobster scuttled from person to person, clearly begging to be restored. Flitwick picked up the lobster and tapped it with his wand. An instant later, Francis was standing in front of Professor Flitwick, his face so red that he still looked vaguely like a lobster.

"You!" he spluttered, turning to Tom. Tom surveyed him mildly, still grinning. "What was that? Hexes only!"

"Nobody ever stated that rule," Tom said calmly, examining his wand. He wanted to avoid Francis's eyes, lest he burst out laughing.

"Legal move, Mr. Malfoy," Flitwick declared. "Nice bit of transfiguration there, Riddle. I'll be sure to tell Professor Dumbledore."

If Tom had been less modest, he would have smirked at Francis and said, "HA!" However, Tom merely allowed himself a neutral smile and thanked Professor Flitwick for the compliment. Francis looked livid.

"YOU'RE LETTING HIM OFF?" he shrieked. "HE TURNED ME INTO A LOBSTER!" Flitwick shot him a reprimanding look. Francis ignored it. "He TURNED me into a bloody LOBSTER! Doesn't that mean anything to you people?" Ulmer, Magnus, and Richard glowered at Tom, but he simply grinned at them.

After rotating partners until midnight, Tom left the Great Hall with the rest of the club. He had beaten every single dueler he had faced, which surprised nobody. Slightly disappointed though he was that he did not get the chance to duel Philip Cedric, Tom had thoroughly enjoyed himself.

His face fell when he passed the suits of armor on the way up the stairs. Lili and a tall blonde Ravenclaw fourth-year were talking gloomily. The older Ravenclaw girl looked sympathetic, and Lili looked very teary. Tom immediately pushed through the crowd and hastened over. "You all right, Lili?" he asked.

Lili looked up. Her dark brown eyes were extremely shiny. Seeing Tom, she burst into hysterical tears. The fourth-year Ravenclaw patted her on the arm. "She just got word," she told Tom in a quiet voice. "Her dad died in St. Mungo's."

Tom suddenly felt extremely awkward. He never knew what to do in these situations. "I'm sorry, Lili," he said finally. When she did not respond, Tom sighed and hied back to the Slytherin common room.

Chapter 13...

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