Chapter Nine

Side-Along Apparition was stressful at the best of times, but Tom was quite proud that he managed to hold out from vomiting even after arriving at Tobo Mott's. He just managed to take a few steps toward a chair before falling over and passing out again on the floor.

When he woke, he found himself in a bed, dirty clothes replaced with a clean set of robes. All of the devices and objects he had worn concealed lay on the table beside him, along with a large glass of water. A light orange mist appeared to be floating down on him from above, like a light rain, though Tom couldn't feel any moisture.

It seems Tobo has taken this opportunity to practice his nursing skills.

Tobo opened the door softly, but it still creaked. "Thank Merlin, you're awake!" He walked over to Tom and began fussing over him. "You must be thirsty. Aguamenti!" The spell streamed water from Tobo's wand to Tom's mouth, and as the spell basically drew pure water from air, Tom had no compunctions in drinking it. Besides, he was rather thirsty.

"Are you quite comfortable? Do you need any more pillows? I've got tea and soup on the boil. Can you sit up?"

Tom frowned at him and did so. "Where's my wand?"

Tobo lifted the edge of his left sleeve, his off-arm, to show an extra wand and holster that Tom instantly recognized. "Didn't think it'd be safe for you to cast anything after you'd been drained."

Tom addressed the issue that would be bothering Tobo the most.

"I am sure your Patronus will not suffer ill effects, nor will you."

Tobo scoffed, "And what of you? Surely you've been affected…"

Tom waved the comment off. "Yes, but since I ate the Patronus I believe that I will be completely fine soon enough."

"And how can you know that?"

Tom turned up the corners of his mouth. "I know, because I will make it so."

"You keep saying that you ate the Patronus. What on Earth does that mean?"

This, then, was the reason Tobo was puttering around full of nervous energy.

"Well. I touched it, and I seem to have absorbed something from it. I assume it was the bit of magic you used to cast it." Tom considered that for a moment, then continued. "You've never been drained like that? Well, it was awful. The world felt dull, as though I was missing a sense. I had no magical power to speak of, nor could I sense it anywhere else. Until the Patronus arrived. That, I could feel the magic radiating from; it just all seemed extremely obvious once I saw it. I took its magic for myself and it seems to have jump started me again." Tom trailed off, wondering if it would be possible to experiment further. Tobo would clearly not want to, but surely some other students were capable of casting it.

Looking back up at Tobo, he went on. "Now, I admit I know little of the spell but it seems to me that a person shouldn't simply be able to 'eat' one, so to speak, and take something from the caster." Tom tapped his cheek with his finger. "I wonder, what exactly did you tell it to do?"

The rough man seemed to freeze for a moment, and he looked away from Tom before speaking. "I told it to deliver the message. I told it you were in trouble, and asked it to help in any way it could… I didn't really think it could do anything besides relay the message and project your location for me."

So it interpreted that to mean...?

Tom knew you had to mean it when you cast the Patronus. So - Tobo actually cared for him? In some way, at least. Enough to not kill him when he couldn't defend himself, at least. Tom didn't think he could count on the man to never try to kill him, but at the very least, Tobo found him useful.

"What can you tell me of the magic used to strike me down?" Tom asked, breaking himself from the strange feeling he had momentarily.

Tobo shrugged. "Nothing I've heard of before. But I think you were extremely lucky." The man gestured out of the bedroom. Tom could just see the stone table where Darius Ahlee was now awake, invisibly bound in an awkward position and deaf to the conversation.

"If this one had finished whatever curse that was, I suspect the effects would have been permanent, or fatal." His voice had a strange sad quality to it, which faded as he went on, "Guess you learned the hard way that you aren't adult yet." A forced laugh. "Aye, you survived. Just barely, but I will give you credit for that achievement."

Tom felt his temper rising, and managed to sit up as he threw back the blankets. "Not only did I survive, but I completed a series of tasks, which you yourself could not. As a result, I have delivered you your enemy for interrogation, and any other fun games you want to play with him."

Tom was now angry as he continued, but the air pressure wasn't pressing down on the room like it should have been. "In addition to the wizard himself, you now are in possession of his device of power."

For now.

Tobo let out a sarcastic laugh as he looked over to the stone mantle where he had placed it in some type of force field.

"Hah… The moment I touched it I could feel it calling to me. 'Put me on, Put me ON!' it was like. I don't trust that for a moment. It shouldn't have to urge me to wear it; I think it wants to kill me."

Tom suppressed a smile. If that was true, certain steps must be necessary to claim it as its master. If anyone could find these steps, Tom could. But he simply said, "A fair assumption."

"As for myself - what have your diagnostic spells revealed to you?" Tom demanded of the man.

"It's like you said, you definitely lost your magic for a time. Now it's returning slowly. Though... I wouldn't get your hopes up. Dark magic of that caliber normally has lasting effects; you may never be as strong as you were."

Not only will I reach that peak again, but I will surpass it by miles.

Tobo looked away. "Hell, I knew a man who was struck by a powerful dark curse once…"

"What happened to him?" Tom prompted.

"Nothing happened immediately. I mean, the sky turned purple, and a streak of black light broke from a cloud, it seemed to pierce his heart. Yet he still struck down his foe and walked away just fine. In fact, he seemed fine for the next several years, until he started hearing voices in his head commanding him to do things, like he was under Imperius." Tobo shuddered. "Anyone who listened, he'd say, 'They told me to drown my wife! They told me to burn my son!' Even to the Dementors."

Tom flinched at the word, but he was reminded of something. "A Patronus is considered to be one of the purest magic's. It will hold back the evil of a dementor, after all. For the lack of a better term, it would be what people consider 'Light' magic, isn't that right?"

Tobo frowned, "Aye… I suppose you could say that. I was surprised to learn that I could perform the spell, considering most people would consider me a 'Dark Wizard'."

"Perhaps, in some cases, the light may wash away the dark? That sounds like the sort of poetic rhythm that fundamental magic seems to work on." As Tom said it he felt it for truth: intuition, but his intuition was generally pretty accurate about magic.

Tobo let a real laugh escape his lips this time. "Perhaps. That sounds more like the moral of some story tale than how life works though."

I agree.However, in this instance I believe I am onto something.

"Tobo, how did you come to learn how to cast the Patronus charm? I would agree with your assumption that you shouldn't be able to." Tom knew that would sound like an insult to most people.

"My son…" Tobo whispered.

Tom could see Tobo tense up, so he didn't reply. Instead he sat and waited for more information about this apparent son Tobo had. Not that he really cared about the man's son, but apparently it was relevant to the Patronus discussion.

"My son, Stefford, was a great man. Better than I ever was, in every way. When I say he was a great man, I'm not just saying that as his father, he did things that…" Tobo cut himself off. "Well. It doesn't matter… Point is, when I saw him use the lessons I taught him, he easily overthrew a small group of terrorists in magical London… I felt something that I knew I could use to cast the spell…"

Tobo seemed to be finished, but Tom probed further. "What is it that you felt?"

The old man seemed to age a decade as he frowned sadly at Tom.

Tobo began to walk out of the room. Tom tried to stand up, failed, and fell back into the bed. By the time he had rearranged himself, Tobo had returned with two small vials, a blue and a red one.

Tom immediately tensed up at the sight. He hadn't felt this vulnerable in a long time, not since the orphanage when he thought he was a Muggle. But he waited for Tobo to say something.

"Red is for magical exhaustion, perhaps it will help kick start a faster recovery. If recovery is possible, that is."

Oh, nicely done.Make it seem like a long shot.A sure thing would be far too obvious.

Tom remained quiet, simply staring at the vials.

"The blue will put you to sleep for a time to recover your physical strength. In addition with the red, you should be strong enough to go back to school once you wake up. I'd not recommend fighting any powerful wizards for a while."

Hmm…The theory is right, and the potions look consistent with what he claims them to be…

"I've already missed a day of classes, I can explain that, but I shouldn't press it."

Tobo put the potions on the bedside table. "How will you explain losing 90% of your power over a weekend? Knowing you, I fully expect every Hogwarts student to know of your abilities."

You do not know me so well then.They have no clue what I am capable of, why would I advertise my true strength and lose the advantage of surprise?

"I won't. The more you allow yourself to be questioned, the more people think they have the right to question you," Tom said with a tone of finality.

Tobo shrugged. "Fine, my stores are running low anyway. If you don't want them, I'll keep them for myself."

Tom looked over to the potion bottles and sighed.

I don't think he wants to kill me…Not yet anyways.

Tom tried to summon the bottles to his open hand with a mere gaze, but it failed.

Tobo removed the wand from the holster and gave it back to him. "If you insist on casting, do it right.

Tom grimaced. "Accio potions." They slowly lifted up and came towards him; he had time to reattach the holster and put his wand away before reaching back up to grab them.

The state I'm in is absolutely pathetic, I feel as though I am a helpless boy again.

Tom opened the red bottle first and raised it to his lips, watching Tobo the entire time. The man wasn't even paying attention, instead he was back to reading the book of advanced interrogation techniques that Tom's foe had to look forward to.

Tom gulped the potion down in one swig. He immediately felt a small rush, as though he had been dunked in cold water suddenly, but it was pleasant. He did the same with the second bottle and started to feel woozy. I hope this produces dreamless sleep…

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When Tom awoke again he felt much better, stronger.

Still weak…Less so than before, but this is almost shameful.

He figured he had enough problems at the moment, and didn't want to add splinching to the list, so he decided to walk back to school.

"Do you want me to walk with you, at least part of the way?" Tobo asked as Tom was preparing to leave.

Tom stopped, "Do you anticipate retribution for the capture of the dark wizard?"

"What? No… I mean, nobody worth thinking about will care." Tobo seemed thrown off by the question. "I was just asking if you wanted…" Tobo sighed. "Never mind son, go on."

"What of our agreement?" Tom looked at Tobo hard. "I believe I was to receive something in return for this task…"

Tobo's eyes widened.

"Are you kidding? I was worried you might not be strong enough to learn that curse to begin with, now…" He trailed off. "Look, we'll work something out. You did well by me, and I will return the favor, as I always have."

Tom knew the best way to regain his strength was to push himself to a new limit. On top of his uncanny natural ability to wield the forces of magic, it was his use of powerful magic with delicate precision that made him stronger, with practice and focus keeping him that way.

I doubt there is any way to convince him that a literal trial by fire is the way to go now.I will not let him forget our deal though.

As soon as Tom was in the street, he raised his hand and flicked his wrist in a well-practiced motion. Yet his wand did not appear as it should have.

"Accio wand!"

He flicked his wrist again, this time pushing his magic into his hand as he thought it. The wand came loose from the holster down his sleeve and flew into his hand, though it brought him little satisfaction.

That was slow; people will see the trick of it unless the wand just appears to be in my hand.

Tom took few deep breaths and let the annoyance wash away, it was clouding his mind.

As he walked, he practiced his summoning charm over and over using his wand and thought alone, taking only a little satisfaction in not having to utter the words. He had always taken pride in his wandless and wordless magic; having to use a wand to summon light bits of trash was degrading.

"Accio paper bag!" He thought as he gestured with the yew wand, and a paper bag flew towards him as if it were caught on a strong draft.

Tom kept his wand trained on the bag as it approached.

STOP

He hadn't used any spell; he had simply focused his magic and forced it out. The paper bag stopped right in front of him and floated there.

Tom visualized flashes of fire, orange and white flames, throwing sparks, burning rapidly.

The paper bag flashed up in a quick burst of flame and was gone. That made Tom smile. Fire often made him smile.

By the time Tom reached the Shrieking Shack, High Street was cleaner than it had ever been - not a single stray candy wrapper was spared.

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Tom arrived at school with still a couple hours until breakfast. He figured he had better go and explain himself to the Headmaster before people actually started to wonder what he was truly up to.

As he made his way towards the Headmaster's office, he was constantly pushing outwards, letting his magic flow and resonate with the area around him. It was a vastly difficult thing to do at the moment, compared to the effortless instinct he had before. It didn't seem to be working all that well either, as he came up on Myrtle sitting against a wall in the corridor as he turned the corner. Then again, he almost never noticed her, visually or magically. In all senses, she was too weak to register.

"Tom!" The girl stood when she saw him, smiling her repulsive grin. She began to run over to him, but when he raised a hand in protest, she instantly stopped, her smile disappearing and her shoulders slumping.

"Hello, Myrtle," Tom said, hoping that would be the extent of this conversation.

"Tom, I haven't slept all night! I'm so scared, Tom!" Myrtle exclaimed.

What is it now?Did your shadow spook you?

"Go to bed till breakfast, you'll feel better after you sleep and eat." Tom took a step forward and to the left to get past her in order to signify the exchange was over.

Insensitive as ever, Myrtle stepped in front of him. At least, he hoped it was her poor social skills, and not insolence. "I've been staying here outside the Headmaster's office all night. I don't know the password to get in, but I'm sure that the gargoyle will let me up if I'm in danger."

"Do you think so?" In spite of himself, Tom was interested. Although he probably wouldn't have been, if he himself hadn't needed to see the Headmaster. He didn't particularly care what danger Myrtle thought she was in, but he decided that unless he killed her, he was going to have to hear her out. Turning back to her, he tried to sound concerned. "Why would you be in danger, Myrtle?"

From the beginning of the sentence, she appeared relaxed, but the word "danger" seemed to remind her that she was in a panic. "The monster chased me!" she said, offering no other explanation.

Tom was confused, this was the first he had heard of a monster in the school. As far as he knew, the wards were quite good at keeping those types of things out, and certainly, Dumbledore wouldn't stand for a monster in the school.

Unless…!

Tom's breath caught in his chest.

A monster designed by Salazar Slytherin himself…

Tom nearly lost his composure and grabbed the girl to demand answers, but he managed to hold himself together. He waited a moment more just to be sure he was calm and collected, then said, "Start at the beginning, and tell me absolutely everything, Myrtle, so I can help you."

Myrtle smiled widely at that and moved a step closer, and Tom automatically took a step back at the same time.

"It's the monster that's running around at night trying to eat kids! I didn't believe it at first, but then I was walking to bed last night, and it came around the corner and chased me!" She exclaimed, all in one breath.

Tom was losing enthusiasm fast. This sounds like the same nonsense the Headmaster was accusing me of…Clearly nobody really thinks there's a monster with an appetite for children.

"You saw it then?" Tom pressed.

"No, I heard it. I came around a corner downstairs, and all of a sudden, I heard something scrambling after me. I ran to the bathroom, and it chased me halfway there before it disappeared." Myrtle had tears in her eyes from recalling her fear. She perked up a little though and said, "That bathroom always feels so safe. It felt especially safe when I was in there after the chase. I just knew in my heart the monster wouldn't chase me in there."

Tom didn't see how a bathroom could be considered safe, with only one entry/exit and tight quarters to fight in, but he didn't press the issue.

Clearly those seventh year idiots think that chasing students around at night constitutes a prank now…It's a shame how far the prank squad has fallen.

It seemed obvious to Tom. The practical jokers of the seventh year were certainly capable of trickery realistic enough to put true fear in younger students. It wasn't as if they were above this sort of thing either; this year's bunch of "pranksters" was poor quality.

When I'm in seventh year, perhaps I'll simply take over and redefine the group. Give it a real purpose, real goals…Though there's no rule that says I can't do that in my fifth year, even if there was it shouldn't apply to me.

Snapping back to reality, he said, "Myrtle, have you been talking with any seventh-years lately, or perhaps the Burke brother in our year?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't talk to many people… They always-"

Tom cut her off, "I doubt there is any monster, Abigail. I think somebody is playing a joke on you and several other students. I do not know why, but I intend to find out."

Myrtle shrunk a little at first, "A joke, of course it is. It always is…" Then the second part of the statement registered. "You'd do that for me Tom?" She was full of admiration.

"Certainly," he replied. Although it wasn't exactly for her, he simply hated school-wide plots that he knew nothing of. Tom waved his hand to dismiss her and said, "Go now - to your bathroom if you feel safer - but go and no harm will come to you. I do not think you need to bother the Headmaster with this."

The girl seemed a great deal calmer now. "Thanks Tom! I feel so safe with you looking out for me!" She smiled at him for a long awkward moment, and then turned and left.

Tom pushed the childish plot from his mind, and focused on the task at hand. He had to speak with the Headmaster and defuse any suspicion that may have come from his absence.

When he approached the gargoyle he didn't think it would be as easy as asking politely, but he tried anyways.

"Excuse me for coming at such an early hour. I have urgent business to discuss with the Headmaster."

That of course failed to produce any results, which made Tom glad. With this prank and/or monster going on, it would have been highly disappointing if one could get into the Headmaster's office simply by asking. But was Myrtle's theory any better? He tapped his cheek, thinking. Not only would it be counterproductive to stage some dangerous scenario simply to explain an absence, a proper security system would simply alert the Headmaster, rather than opening the door.

So Tom started casting magic at the statue, a random spell here and there, but mostly he was just using his own raw magic with no real spell behind it to strike at the statue.

He quickly became winded and stopped to rest.

Suddenly, Headmaster Dippet's voice echoed out of the gargoyle's mouth. "What are you doing, Tom Riddle?"

"I was merely trying to get your attention, Sir. I'd like to have a word with you, if I could."

The gargoyle yawned and said, "I imagine you would have said if it was an emergency. So allow me a few moments to get ready."

The statue became still once more and Tom was left to wait.

Once he was granted entry to the office, he made his way forward to the desk and stood before it.

"I'm not sure if you or any of my professors have noticed, but I was not present in my classes yesterday. Nor will I attend today, and I want to explain," Tom said with a slight tone of shame.

"Professor Dumbledore did in fact notice that you were missing. When he could neither find you in your dorm or the hospital wing he was quite concerned," Dippet replied.

Concerned about what I was getting up to, you mean.

Tom was unsettled; this wasn't the first time he had missed a transfiguration class, but it was apparently the first time Dumbledore actively tried to find out why.

"Well, no, sir, he wouldn't have found me there. I was in Hogsmeade, studying with a professional tutor. After all, if I try to hide away in the school, people will start spreading rumors and disrupting me," Tom said stiffly, referring to his previous summons to the office.

"A professional tutor you say?" Dippet seemed intrigued. "Who is it?"

"Nobody you'd know sir, just somebody who was helping me prepare for my Defense against the Dark Arts OWL."

Dippet frowned. "Mister Riddle, I know that you don't approve of the way classes are taught here at Hogwarts. But you cannot simply come and go as you please! Hogwarts classes are to be the first priority."

If by disapprove you mean I think 90% of classes are a waste of time, which could be used to really learn magic, I'll agree with that.

"I know, sir. It's not going to be a habit; it was just the one day of study. But I'm afraid it has left me rather worn out. I'd like permission to skip my classes today as well so I can get some rest."

"Well, if you're that worn out, you'd best go to the Infirmary."

"Yes sir, thank you, Sir," Tom said and left the office.

The Infirmary was less than ideal but he decided it would help sell the story. His entire body ached, and he wanted a proper breakfast, but he couldn't look forward to going to the Great Hall. In the hospital wing, he'd be waited on hand and foot by the spinster Nurses who thought he was a handsome young man, but they'd know better than to bother him.

So he went to his room, took out all the books he wanted, and headed to the Infirmary.