Chapter Text
Tom Riddle fled as silently as he could from the Chamber. It was a dangerous time. Soon, he was certain, Dumbledore would notice that Potter boy's disappearance and come flying down to try and 'save' him along with that dead Weasley girl. He ignored the fact that that was a bad thing, he ignored the torment that it would have caused him to really think over such things. He needed to find a hiding place, and rather soon, for he was certain that Dumbledore would return not too long from now, and he was more than sure that Dumbledore would instantly suspect him, not that, other than the Chamber itself, there was really any reason to. It was over 30 years into the future. His sixteen year old self had not thought that when he awoke it would be so...far ahead. Though he cannot count himself annoyed with such a fact.
"I said no,"
Voices. Tom hesitated, pausing, to peer over the corner. There were two people. A boy, probably a first or second year he supposed, speaking to another person. It seemed to be a Professor. The blue eyes of the boy flickered to his own, instantly catching them and a small look of curiosity hid between them, but it was hidden just as easily.
"Very well. I suppose it is for the best." The boy stated simply. Tom watched, wary. he could not see the child's house crest from where he was standing, just the side of his face.
"What are you doing out this late anyways?" The Professor asked.
"Ah, I wished to ask Professor Lockhart something. I went to his office but, I could not find him. I am afraid that I forgot to hand in an assignment. I was worried what this may do to my overall grade and was going to ask him for an extension. I had been worried about it all day. I was going to leave it for tomorrow, given the fact that it is almost curfew but..." The pale boy bit his lower lips, eyes downcast demurely. "I knew that I would not be able to sleep." A small shuffling of steps, "Father would kill me if he found out I forgot something so simple as an assignment." The boy seemed to mutter it, but it was obvious that he uttered it loud enough for the Professor to hear.
Whoever this Professor was just sighed before waving their hand.
"Very well, very well, I shall talk to Professor Lockhart about extending your due date, but please, beware of time. You only have a half hour before curfew."
"Of course, thank you Professor." The boy said softly, eyes turned to the Professor wide and thankful.
The Professor moved around the boy muttering curses under her breath, but the child made no notice of that. Tom, finally able to get a relatively clear profile of the boy, realized that he was in his house, a Slytherin.
The boy strode up to him confidently. He seemed to pause, slightly, as he came within reaching distance. Pale blue eyes gazed him up and down, the crest on his pectoral, and the state of his robes. Assessing, cataloging, thinking, sorting, all within moments the blue eyes turned wide to look at him. A small smirk played at his lips, but other emotions seemed wiped from his face.
With little thought, the boy grabbed his arm, startling Tom greatly, a sound of anger and offense escaping him, but the boy shook his head, ignoring him. It was not the first time someone had tried to grab him, but this boy seemed a bit...different from those people. His grip was gentle, lax, and careful, as though trying to convey urgency without the need for words, but hesitant to truly order something through nonverbal language. Tom, therefore, held down his instant anger, and simply followed the boy, watching him carefully. While he may not particularly be fond of the fact, this boy could have easily sold him out to that Professor, and yet he had done no such thing.
"The curfew is about to start, Dumbledore is about to re-enter the castle," The boy muttered, his voice cultured. "It would be best should you not be anywhere within his vicinity when that happened. You are lucky I was the one that saw you first, not someone else." Tom did little to respond to the boy as he led him down to the dungeons, the Slytherin dorms.
"Basilisk," The boy said quietly. Tom startled, and the boy seemed to notice. "The Prefect thought it humorous." He answered softly, before continuing to drag Tom up the spiraled staircase, leaving him no room to re-familiarize himself with the common room.
Tom noticed that the boy was taking him to the 2nd Year dorms. So he was right about the child being a second year. 12 years old. Not too much younger than Tom himself, the older mused mentally.
The boy pulled Tom into the Dorms and to his side of the room, ripping the curtains over his bed open and depositing himself and Tom on said bed, before closing them and whispering a flurry of spells that Tom, in the state of this unexpected series of events could barely make out. The boy then sat primly on the bed, and stared at Tom.
Tom had the distinct impression that the boy was watching him, warily, as though waiting for him to strike. Yet he did not get the impression of fear, as was typical. More...calm and comfort radiated from the child, which definitely confused him further. This Slytherin boy was very interesting.
"You are a Slytherin," the boy stated.
"Yes," Tom stated clearly. His own dark brown eyes watching the child before him in a sense of...fascination, one could say.
"You came from that diary my father gave that blood traitor, yes?" Once again, Tom was rather surprised at the way the child worded himself. He already knew the answer, just wanting confirmation.
"Yes," Tom decided to play nice, for now. He needed aid, and this boy had not only helped him not get caught, but was also practically housing him at the moment. It would not do to offend the boy so soon.
"You are the Dark Lord. Rather, the younger version of him." The boy said, his eyes shining with...awe...and caution. Tom nodded, slowly. The boy tilted his head.
"What happened to that blood traitor girl?" The boy asked.
"Dead," He said simply. If that disturbed the boy he did not show it.
"And Potter?"
"Unconscious, for now." The boy nodded once more.
"Weasley and Lockhart?"
Ah, so the boy had not been looking for Lockhart, he had already known where the Professor was, and simply played the woman.
"Weasley lying stunned, the Professor, lost memories." The boy hummed, putting things together, eyes narrowing slightly as he did so. He reminded him distinctly of....
"Weasley is stunned, so he probably did not see you, Lockhart's memories are gone, and so he won't think anything of it, and you look close enough like Potter to someone who is that ignorant that he any description he could give would fit Potter. Weasley is dead, the only one who can testify against you is Potter." The boy listed off. "Dumbledore, that idiot, will believe Potter, of course, and will try to find you." The boy hummed. "He probably will end up checking Slytherin dorms." Blue eyes caught his for a moment. "Are you good with anti-revealing spells?"
"Somewhat," Tom admitted. The boy nodded, and Tom still found himself curious as to who this was. After all, he must know the older version of himself, or know of the older version of himself. The boy had said his diary was in the other's father's hands.
"Good, Just make sure to cast one the moment Dumbledore gets to the Common Room. I will handle the rest of it. Do you have a wand?" The youth asked. Tom nodded once again, holding up Potter's wand which he...may have stolen along side his own. The boy nodded once.
"As for Potter and Dumbledore, they will undoubtedly try to convince everyone that you have returned. Father will be able to help you there, I am sure. Myself as well, if necessary. School is over in a few days after all."
"Who are you?" Tom asked suddenly his voice dark and stern, the thought of not knowing such a simple thing getting on his nerves. The boy stiffened at his tone, but otherwise did not react.
"Forgive me, my Lord, I have not introduced myself. I am Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, at your service." The boy bowed his head lightly, as blue eyes met dark brown.
That made sense then. The boy was a Malfoy. Malfoy's were well known for being highly keen, observant, and intelligent. There was a reason they were considered the 'prince' of Slytherin after all. They inherited all Slytherin traits to the core, and it was something that Tom had always appreciated of Abraxas. Naturally the boy would know of him, the moment that he had caught eyes with him, and thought of a way to aid him. Abraxas would have done the same exact thing, Tom knew well enough.
"Malfoy, a pleasure to meet your acquaintance." Tom purred lightly, grabbing the boy's hand abruptly, holding it delicately, before kissing it. Tom watched with healthy amusement as the boy's cheeks tinted slightly pink, flushing.
"The pleasure is mine," he whispered out, clearly having not expected such a reaction from the Dark Lord. Tom rather found he liked that. Not that he would say such things verbally of course.
"Cast the spell," the boy said suddenly, and Tom did so, concealing himself with multiple magic spells, including the one which the boy had suggested. Draco rushed and put down his magical wards, before diving under the covers.
The two held their breath, nervous...Dumbledore would come into the room at any moment. He did, as well, electric blue eyes casting a gaze around everything.
"Professor," Draco muttered softly, rubbing his eyes as though he were eviscerating sleep from them. "You are not allowed to be in the Slytherin dorms." As was expected of a Malfoy. With Malfoy's slightly angered voice, a few of the others in the room woke.
"Headmaster," The Italian boy said quietly. "You are not supposed to be in the Slytherin Common Room. You know that. What is so important you have to..." The boy yawned but continued determined, eyes fired with anger the moment he had caught onto Dumbledore, of all people, in their Common Room, and even more so invading their dorms. "Come yourself, rather than sending the head of house?" Dumbledore frowned, annoyed. Yet, it was not as though the 2nd years were wrong. Both the Malfoy and Zabini families were well acquainted with school law considering they were on the School Council.
"I am just looking for someone, that is all." Draco finally glared at the Professor.
"Looking for someone? And who exactly may that be Professor? If you have not noticed, all 2nd year Slytherins are accounted for, and we do not break curfew lightly. So, please, explain to me why you seem to have the desire to willfully break council rule to waltz into the Slytherin Common rooms rather than sending, or being escorted by, the Slytherin Head of House?" Draco's eyes flared as they stared Dumbledore down, a feate which Tom had to say surprised him. It was not many that could look unabashed into the old man's eyes. "And now...what? You are looking for someone? Since we are all accounted for, and have been, given our Prefects do a head count at curfew, that would only mean that you would assume we are hiding someone."
"You, Mr. Malfoy, were found wandering around the 4th floor thirty minutes before curfew." Dumbledore said serenely.
"And? As I already stated to Professor McGonagal, I was intending to ask Professor Lockhart about an extension. As I could not find him, I was headed back to the common rooms. Why don't you ask her? Furthermore, that does not explain why you felt the need to break decorum and barge into the Slytherin Common Rooms and then the Dorms, without so much as alerting our Head of House." Draco glared angrily. The Zabini boy seemed to begin getting more and more angry about such things the further the Malfoy boy spoke as well.
"Now, now, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore tried his traditional soothing method.
"Father will be hearing about this," Draco said with a tired sigh. "It is already two hours past curfew and you barged in here without regard and woke up half the dorm. I will be taking a formal complaint."
"There is no need for that... Surely..." Dumbledore stopped at the glare on Draco's face.
"I would suggest, that you do not compromise yourself further, Professor Dumbledore. Father has been trying to rid you of your position for quite a long time, and I can assure you, he is very good at twisting situations to how he sees them. An old man, with questionable sexual family history, sneaking into the 2nd year Slytherin Dorms without any prior need or reason, without alerting the Slytherin Head of House? I wonder what stories Father would be able to spin with that." Draco said, voice dark and angry. Dumbledore, sputtering, left almost immediately afterwards.
"I will send a message to Father," Blaise said with another yawn. "And we can file an official complaint. I am not willing to risk that happening again." He said simply.
"Thank you Blaise," The Malfoy said sincerely. "With any luck, Dumbledore will be out of office by this time next year."
"One can only hope."