FicWad

Tom entered his first class of the day with a slight limp. Loath as he was to live this act, live it he must. As such his ankle had been twisted and a couple of bruises applied to make him seem more like Harry Potter would after a night in the former Dark Lords house...

Everyone hated him. And they weren't afraid to show it.

Because if they all obeyed his every word or cowered around him, even simply ignored him and went out of there way to avoid him, it would only raise warning bells. Especially after that internal hats warning!

So, with a limp and a couple of bruises, Tom Riddle entered his first class in over fifty years. Transfiguration with Proffessor Minerva McGonagall.

And there, as everyone else wondered about where the teacher was, sat an orange brown tabby cat on the desk. 'So we meet again. Not surprising to see you using the same old trick. You used to think it was rather funny before you met Dumbledore, but oh how he has a way of bringing out the worst in us, doesn't the old man?' he thought.

Taking a seat in the back of the class, Tom waited for her to transform. A red-headed child in the front of the room actually had the nerve to ask where the old bat was! Tom knew it had to be a Weasley. Always charging ahead without thinking about the results of their actions.

And then she was a Witch again, and the boy was stammering out an apology, trying to blame it on a dare by his older brothers.

Based on the cold glare she was givin him, McGonagall wasn't buying it. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley. Is there anything else you would care to add?" she asked. Not trusting his mouth the boy shook his head furiously.

"Mr. Potter!" she snapped, looking back at him. Damn! He was grinning. "Do you find the situation funny, Mr. Potter?" she demanded.

Respond like a Slytherin? Rush recklessly ahead into the trap? Deny it altogether?

"Ofcourse I do. You seemed to find it rather funny yourself fifty years ago." he stated, referring to her transformation. For a moment she froze, but then her demeanor became even colder towards him than it had the Weasley boy.

"And how, may I ask, do you know anything about myself from half a century before, Mr. Potter?" she demanded in a dangerously soft tone.

"You seem to forget I was held at Malfoy Mannor for three days. Two of which I was Imperiused to obey their every command." Tom responded in an equally soft tone. "I believe the senior Malfoy had a crush on you at one time in his youth." he added, knowing that would wreck havoc with his reputation or at the least earn Draco here a good taunting by his fellow housemates.

McGonagall frowned but her voice was noticeably warmer. "Yes, so I had. Never the less you should show some better respect towards your teachers than to state facts that may or may not be false, Mr. Potter." she said. "Now if we are done here, let us move onto the topic at hand: Transfiguration." she added to the class at large.

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Tom left the class looking like an above average student. He wasn't about to look stupid, that was for sure! But of course turning his match to a pure silver needle on the first try might have looked a little too obvious he had great talent.

It was on his third try he succeeded.

At any rate, he was now on his way to his next class, Charms. It felt odd to be going through seven years of magical learning again, even for him, but... well. Things would be progressing very fast. He doubted the school would still be standing as Hogwarts by the third year, at most.

As he entered the classroom he felt a stab of annoyance. 'All this time you had the Elder wand, and I could have been its master had I only known. Instead I was off gallivanting about the world, creating Horcruxes and building up power through rituals that would have been meaningless if I only knew.' he thought.

Pushing his thoughts on such things aside he took a seat again at the back of the class. Draco Malfoy purposefully sat beside him, intent on getting some form of revenge.

"Behave yourself, young Draco. I would not want to waste your obvious talent by ending your life here and now." Tom told him in a neutral tone, reading his thoughts with just a glance at the body posture and emotions on his face.

Draco scowled deeper. "How do you keep doing that!" he said loudly.

Attracting the attention of the entire class.

"Swish and flick, Mr. Malfoy, swish and flick!" Flitwick exclaimed, promptly doing so while adding "Wingardium Leviosa!" and making the feather on his desk shoot to the top of the class.

Flushing with embarrassment, Draco slumped down into his seat. Tom suppressed a savage grin.

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While everyone else was fast falling asleep to Proffessor Binns droning voice in History of Magic, Tom noticed a bushy haired Witch hanging on his every word attentively. 'The only kink in my otherwise perfect plans.' he frowned.

Pointing the Elder wand behind her back he murmured a sleeping spell and waited the ten seconds it took to activate.

With a shrug, he aimed it around himself in a wide circle and repeated the words, insuring no one was faking it. When at last he was satisfied they were out of it, Tom slipped out of the class with out a second glance and quickly made his way down to a certain second floor bathroom.

Just before he entered it he narrowed his eyes and threw out his left hand, grasping something previously invisible to normal sight.

With a squeek an ugly brown house elf appeared. "Why are you following me?" Tom asked in annoyance. The elf shook its head furiously and tried to pull away, needing air.

Tom increased his grip. "If you fail to report to Dumbledore on time he'll be suspicious. If you show up with bruise marks he'll be suspicious. If you don't show up at all he'll be suspicious. Well damn!" he shrugged.

"You'll be following me now." he added, pushing the door open. Moaning Myrtle was wailing away as usual, but stopped as Tom entered with the whimpering house elf.

"Who dares!?" she demanded. "Harry Potter." he responded simply. She pushed through her closed door a moment later, frowning.

"You aren't even a girl! Whats a boy doing in here!?" she shouted. "The elf here informed me Slytherins beast was locked in this room somewhere. The one that killed you fifty years ago." Tom responded.

"Liar!" she accused. "You doubt me?" he asked, hissing open in parselmouth. The sink with the small snake inscription sunk back into the wall and a slimy tunnel leading down was revealed. Myrtle looked back and forth in confusion.

"You want revenge on the beast, don't you? Well, with the elfs help I'm going to kill it. I'm sure you could prove a great distraction, and the headmaster would obviously reward you for it."

Myrtle stared at him dis trustingly.

"Would I lie to you? I'm the savior of the Wizarding World! I'm only here to do my duty in protecting the people." he stated flatly.

Still watching him with suspicion Myrtle descended down the tunnel first. Tom, holding the now unconscious but still living elf by the throat, followed.

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Salazar, greatest of the Hogwarts Four! Tom called out in parseltongue. Open for your last son! The mouth of the giant statue representing Salazar Slytherin slowly opened and from within the deep and dark chasm it revealed a powerful hissing erupted.

Myrtle, most reluctantly, was waiting near its base as Tom had instructed, so as to prove to be a distraction for the few moments it would take he and the elf to slay it. He had explained away the elfs fainting due to nerves and that he would revive it when the time came, swearing to do so on his magic.

Satisfied with that for the moment, she was still waiting when the large King of all serpents descended from its prison with a massive thump.

Closing his eyes Tom hissed rapidly to it. Stare at the girl and I promise you much feasting to do over the next years, my pet. Tom Riddle has returned.

The Basilisk slowly opened its deep yellow eyes and stared directly into Myrtles. With a scream halfway escaping her the ghost turned ash-gray and fell onto her back, floating inchs above the ground and petrified.

Throwing the still-out-of-it elf before the Basilisk, Tom focused on the small creature and cast "Ennervate." almost lazily. His face stretched itself into a demented grin as the creature died on the spot, looking up into those deadly yellow eyes.

With that done, the Basilisk closed its eyes and slithered closer to where Toms voice had come from. Very good, my pet. Any student not of pure blood is yours. I want you to spare none. he commanded.

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Tom returned from the Chamber of Secrets just as the rest of the class was emerging sleepily from History of Magic.

It was time to break for Lunch, but Tom had other things to do now that the Basilisk was free to roam at night. A Notice-Me-Not charm had been placed upon the open hole to the tunnel to save him the time and trouble of constantly opening and closing it.

Heading up to the seventh floor corridor, Tom was already disillusioned by the time he passed back and forth before a certain stretch of blank wall three times, reciting the command 'Show me a place to hide things.'.

With the third passing a door appeared and he entered, making sure to shut it after wards.

It only took a minute for him to locate what he sought. "And here you are again, my precious diadem." Tom spoke to it softly. It felt cold in his hands, but he smiled down at it. "Even a horcrux should recognize its masters magic, if not the flesh and blood of his form." Tom chided it like a child.

Slipping it into his robes, Tom looked around at the rest of the junk in the amazing room. "How foolish I was to believe no one else would ever discover this room. It is by sheer luck my horcrux has survived. I will not be making the mistake of leaving another in here again." he murmured in annoyance.

Walking out of the room he waited for the door to close before thinking a new set of words. 'Show me a room to contain fiendfyre.' and on his third passing of it, a door appeared. With a savage grin Tom pushed it open and looked around.

A scorch-blackened room appeared. In the center of it sat a rough stone basin. Pulling out the slightly quivering diadem Tom placed it in the center with reluctance. "Your magic can not effect me for long, precious diadem. Your usefulness to Lord Voldemort has reached its end." he whispered softly to it, almost as though to a lover.

With that he pulled out the Elder wand and cast the most power and dark of fire spells in existence. The scream of one piece to Voldemorts soul being destroyed shook the small, almost cramped stone walls as the black-purple flames danced about atop the diadem.

And as before, Tom Riddle left the scene behind, knowing something or someone would deal with it eventually. And sure enough, the room did its job once the door was closed, and Tom Riddle was now one step closer to eliminating his originals soul from this world forever.