Authors Notes:

This is loosely based on HPMOR's Tom Riddle and the mechanics and facts of the story.

However I elaborate and change known facts as I see fit for the sake of the story. I also borrow facts and details from the original HP series.

Chapter One - Tom Riddle and Albus Dumbledore

Tom stood in the pitch dark of his private dorm. Having extinguished the glowing torches on the wall of his room, he carefully set his wand on his desk, and then closed his eyes. He deftly navigated around his desk and past his bed into the center of the room. How many times did I have to practice this dance before I achieved perfection? He wondered idly, smiling to himself. The average wizard would never even consider that they may have to fight blind someday; the average wizard was a fool.

The most basic artificial light charm was so easy that Tom didn't even need to say the incantation to brightly light a room, when he held his wand. So there should be no reason to hold his wand. After all, Tom could cast so many basic charms (and even more complicated ones) without a wand or word. He had no idea why this one was giving him so much trouble, but he was perversely glad of the challenge. Eventually he'd figure it out, and in learning he may glean some other valuable insight into magic. Still, such a simple spell should just come naturally to him at this point! It never failed to annoy him, slightly, when he actually had to work to perform magic.

He focused on intention: create a light, contained to this room. He drew up the little bit of his own raw magic that would be needed to cast the spell and let the incantation pass through the back of his mind and echo there. Normally at this point he would wave his wand, and the room would seem to have its own sun, but without it he had to think. He mentally shaped his magic around his intention. Feeling his magic flowing through him, he guided it into a specific shape: an orb encompassing the intention, then carefully poured just a little extra force into it, to make up for the lack of wand. As he opened his eyes, he forced his body's magic to extend out into the room like a ghastly invisible third arm that held the spell in its fist. The room lit up with a dim green light for a moment or two. Tom could make out the desk across from him. The light faded almost as quickly as it came. The desk disappeared into darkness again.

Tom's brief smile turned down. That had been the same as his previous attempts, green light and all. When he cast it with a wand, it was a brilliant white light. Maybe there was some fundamental difference in this charm's mechanics compared to most other basic charms? There had to be. Well, Tom would figure it out in time; this was a puzzle that must be completed at all costs. Figuring out that small secret behind a basic lighting charm could very well provide the insight to improve a powerful ritual someday. Tom never took any small insight for granted. An obscure fact about one spell here, and observation of another curse there, sometimes that was all it took for a clever wizard to make a connection and use that to revolutionize some other technique...

Tom closed his eyes to try the spell again, but a brief warning flashed in the back of his mind. It was somebody approaching his door, according to his rudimentary room ward. Sighing, Tom flicked his wrist and his wand flew into his hand as if it had always been there. He shifted position, balancing himself with his wand at the ready, drawing up power to cast any number of dangerous curses. He waited a few seconds, fancying that the door would be blasted from the hinges by some arcane magic for a change, before hearing the soft knock of knuckles on wood.

Except it wasn't that soft, was it? It seemed more firm and insistent. He flicked his wrist; his wand disappearing into the holster down his sleeve, then approached the door. Of course it wouldn't be an attack, not in the castle, not now. Yet Tom had vowed to never let bad habits take root, to be disciplined and vigilant at all times. The most successful attack is one that comes when you aren't expecting it. Tom opened the door with his left hand while the right hung low ready to be armed with his wand with another flick of the wrist. He already had a rather nasty curse in mind: a quick upward slash of his wand to tear through almost any ward and every bit of flesh which it would be protecting, spattering the castle's ancient walls with a mist...

As he opened the door, he saw a rather large seventh year standing menacingly before him. At least, the young man's posture and body language obviously meant to project danger and evoke fear to the average person. Tom almost smiled - he hadn't even bothered to properly evaluate this student on his "danger scale". In fact, he couldn't even recall the boy's name now that he thought of it. The only thing that seemed weaker than this boy's knowledge of casting was the force behind those spells. Still, all his obvious incompetence could have been a bluff leading up to this moment... an unlikely attack with overwhelming magic. Tom refused to let himself be fooled; he pushed that nifty little cutting curse on the top of his mind.

In a flash the youth's demeanour changed. Tom hadn't said a word or made a gesture in the few moments they had been facing each other, but it was obvious the other student felt the raw magic pulsating as they stood there. His magic did that sometimes when he was annoyed or angry, he normally rather liked that effect, despite knowing he eventually had to master it. Using your raw magic like that was supposed to be very advanced, so Tom tended to take it as a good sign when it just happened on its own. The person on the receiving end of this growing feeling of cold relentless magic filling the air never seemed to appreciate the delicacy of it as much as Tom did, alas.

"I'm sorry to bother you so late, Riddle." The youth was looking rather tired suddenly.

"Professor Dumbledore has asked me to tell you to come to his office immediately. He stressed to me that this was important. He didn't seem to be in a good mood…" The boy finished his sentence as if he was speaking to his shoes.

"Thank you." Tom waved his hand and dismissed the messenger who was apparently glad to go.

Tom left his room and walked through the common room towards the exit. A few students yet milled about, studying or talking about mundane things. Tom noticed MacNair sitting at a table, his head was down on the wooden table top, and his wand was a foot in front of his face. He stared at the wooden rod, apparently lost in thought.

Tom hated to be interrupted when he was thinking deeply; he had no compunctions whatsoever about interrupting somebody else, however. "You can't empower your wand with your own magic MacNair, trust me, I've tried." He said it sarcastically, but a clever person would take it as a joke rather than an insult, and MacNair was clever. Just how clever the buy was even Tom couldn't say.

MacNair lifted his head, sunken cheeks dominating his face, looked up at Tom as if to speak, but he hesitated.

Tom tried to look friendly, for he had no ill feelings towards MacNair. Quite the contrary, Tom considered him to be one of the least useless students attending this school. Recently he had even considered asking the boy to join his Battle Magic "lessons". For the last year it had simply been Tom and Chang, fighting wand to wand and fist to fist on the edge of the Forbidden Forest near the mountains. Chang was a hard fighter, but Tom could always overwhelm him if he needed to. He needed more opponents, more students...

MacNair was hesitating to speak; Tom's reputation always made people consider before they spoke to him, even his "friends", so he had to encourage the boy with the sunken cheeks to open up.

"What's so interesting about your wand?" Tom asked as he sat down to observe the light brown stick for himself. Perhaps MacNair had some type of thought Tom might be interested in.

MacNair took a moment to figure out how to speak his thoughts.

"Well, I mean, think about it, Tom," he said, snatching the wand and holding it up in front of his own face.

"The magical core that generates a wand's power is generally made from creatures people consider good." MacNair spun his wand around his fingers, back and forth, so precise and quickly it impressed even Tom. "Unicorns, Phoenixes, Veela. The most dangerous creature that I know they use to make wands from is dragons."

MacNair paused, obviously lost in thought. Speaking almost more to himself then to Tom, the boy continued.

"My wand has a dragon heartstring in it. I have to say I've certainly noticed that when I cast fire spells, or more destructive spells, they are much more potent than I would have expected given my own natural ability."

MacNair was on a roll. "What if a person made a wand from say, a hair from a troll?" He paused to consider his own question. "Would their spell casting have more brute strength? Would they be able to adapt to transfiguration more easily?"

Tom couldn't answer these questions; he was ashamed to admit to himself that he had never even considered these things.

MacNair continued, "What if you used, say a piece of a Dementors cloak as your wand core?"

Tom shuddered involuntarily; he took a second to regain his composure before he spoke. "I expect the wand would have some interesting properties."

That much was true, who knows what powers you could wield with the magic of a Dementor?

Tom continued, "However, I would never touch such a wand myself. I also expect that it would degrade and fall to bits within weeks of its creation, no matter how well it was crafted."

Tom felt truly interested in this conversation. MacNair might be onto something with his talk of wands. Tom had never considered looking into wandlore, a terrible oversight in retrospect; there could be powerful secrets there. The problem was there were powerful secrets in every ignored aspect of magic.

MacNair looked at Tom and frowned. "A Dementor was a poor example, I admit."

Very poor, but the thought was interesting.

MacNair went on after a moment. "I mean, I know David Monroe has much more magical power then I do, yet my fire spells burn twice as hot as his do." The boy was gaining confidence as he spoke. "Monroe uses a wand with a unicorn hair core, and I've noticed that his spellcasting is quicker and more graceful than you would expect, even given his talent."

Tom glanced over to the corner of the common room where Monroe was sitting in a large chair with a blonde in his lap. He whispered something to her that made her laugh. Tom couldn't help frowning. David Monroe had far too much unjustified confidence in himself. If the boy's bravado started to peak again, Tom would be forced to humble Monroe once more.

MacNair's voice cut into Tom's thoughts. "Do you think that a wizard's magic is more focused and powerful in areas their wands are comfortable in?" He was looking to Tom as though he was asking a question to a professor in class.

Tom considered it for a moment; he had to give MacNair some credit, he might be onto something.

"Your idea certainly seems to make sense, I must admit. However, I think that it will be much more complicated than it may seem on the surface. I suggest you start asking around, find out what type of wands everyone uses. From there try to analyze the types of magic they excel in - there may well be a connection."

Tom paused and tapped his cheek with his finger before he continued. "There are actually a good number of books which mention wandlore in the library. If I were you, I would read those as well." Tom planned to read those books himself at some point now that MacNair had made such an interesting observation.

Surely I can find some secret to use to my advantage.

Tom held up his own wand. Phoenix feather. Those birds were supposed to be one of the most powerful creatures on earth. Tom had started mastering wandless magic before he even knew he was a wizard, but once he had a wand he certainly became much more powerful. The core of his wand may help explain his extraordinarily powerful spells, natural skill aside. Phoenixes come back from death as well.

MacNair hung on Tom's every word. "I kind have been doing that already. You know, finding out who uses what wand, but you're right. I need to get more examples before I can really say for sure. Some of those books would help too; I'll have to visit the library."

Tom was glad he had stopped to chat with MacNair. Not only did he get a new mystery to think about, but Tom's opinion of the boy intelligence solidified once he heard of the boy's theory and saw his desire to look deeper.

Still, it was time to go. "Dumbledore has summoned me for some sort of chastisement, I have to assume. I'm afraid we'll have to continue this later."

The other boy's face was frozen. "Ok Tom, good luck with that old meddler. I hope he goes easy on you."

Tom doubted he needed luck, and he was slightly annoyed, why would the boy care one way or the other? Try not to be so transparent, please...

As Tom made his way down the hallway he allowed himself to wonder what this summoning could regard. It was too near the beginning of fifth year for any plot against his fellow students. All the plots from last year were either dead or too well established to be uncovered. Tom guessed he had done more than a few things Dumbledore would disapprove of over the summer, but none of those could possibly have been found out, even by the old meddler.

Tom entered the Transfiguration classroom and walked toward the thick door at the back of the room.

He knocked, a pointless gesture with Dumbledore's wards alerting him to Tom's presence. Oddly enough, Dumbledore was normally at the door and opening it as you reached up to bang on the wood, but not even the knock brought him forth. Obviously some type of game going on here. Tom never had to wait to be scolded or praised, whichever the case may be. So clearly this was some new tactic of Dumbledore's. Whatever the old man hoped to accomplish by making Tom wait would fail this time; Tom would be patient and sit here all night. If Tom could actually think of a reason Dumbledore would be especially angry, he may try to start off timid. As far as he could see though there was no reason for that, so Tom would act boldly.

There was no reason for him to stand at attention like a student to be scolded, waiting on Dumbledore while his own legs got tired. He almost took a step toward a desk before he stopped and sneered. I'm a wizard, not a Muggle, I'd best remember it. With a wave of his wand, two of the desks slid across the floor and stopped in front of him. He touched the first desk with his wand and focused on a complex Transfiguration. Within moments, the desk was a tall throne almost touching the high ceiling, from which he could look down on the old wizard once he deigned to appear. He admired it for a moment, and then touched his wand to create stairs on the bottom of the throne. This was a new technique Tom had been working on; it took three whole minutes before the Transfiguration of the stairs held. Tom climbed the stairs proudly, glad that the combination of a transfiguration and an illusion enchantment succeeded.

Tom next transfigured the other desk into a large very dramatic looking hourglass, which was much easier work. If you want to play a game, I'll certainly play with you. How long the wait ended up could help determine how angry the man was. Really, most of the time Tom got away with his "schemes" as Dumbledore called them, by playing the innocent and misunderstood student, or setting up somebody else to take the blame. If Dumbledore was already trying to send messages, this would have to be a different type of conversation than their usual cryptic yet apparently friendly ones.

Tom also considered that this might be nothing bad at all. Dumbledore could be too strange to predict, it was even possible Tom was here to be praised for something, but he doubted it. Why make him wait in that case? No, this seemed like a "stern lecture". He would know when he saw the man, if it was some trivial matter the old meddler would likely be briefly impressed at the detail in Tom's Transfigurations, and then proceed to laugh off the subtle messages and instead focus on the new technique Tom had just used to weave the stairs into a flowing, yet steady stream of black iron. Tom specifically crafted it especially to grab the man's attention. Normally nothing pleased him, but hopefully it would change their first interaction from a negative to a positive right from the start as well. Why not play on the man's interests.

Transfiguration was one of the old man's passions, and as it happened; Tom was also very interested in this subject himself. It was unbelievably useful, and Tom had made a point to excel with this particular magic. A love of learning was something Tom had in common with the old man. Many times Tom had come to this office, to ask about a certain fundamental principle of a certain magic, or run a new theory past him and learn from the ancient wizard. Dumbledore would actually sit with him and appear to consider Tom's ideas as though they came from an equal. Tom tried to use these personal lessons to build the man's trust and slowly learn his potent magics. Any secrets he could squeeze out of the wise old man would be beneficial, though he had learned nothing of any true potency from Dumbledore. Even his most subtle and humble attempts came to nothing.

More importantly, Tom was trying to build trust so he could earn a place among the staff one day. It was working, though not nearly as well as Tom had thought it would. There was no denying that the man had some level of trust and respect for Tom, at least when it came to his competence in Transfiguration, but that wouldn't be enough. The old wizard had to be in awe at Tom's skill on some level, or he wouldn't have allowed him to learn of the existence of Dumbledore's "Top Secret High Magic Transfiguration Laboratory". Tom was actually allowed inside to learn from the man and try his own experiments on a few occasions. Other professors had told him that he was the first student to even know of that room's existence. However, Tom hadn't been asked to join the man in his private room in quite some time.

Really, Tom Riddle did not like Albus Dumbledore. The man had a strange way of thinking that Tom couldn't agree with. He did however respect him as a powerful and competent wizard. Not to mention, Tom not being stupid, he also had a healthy level of fear of a man capable of wielding the types and level of magic Dumbledore could.

Dumbledore taught Transfiguration classes and Tom had to admit that as far as professors went, Dumbledore was excellent. His Transfiguration classes were actually entertaining and even insightful on occasion. Unlike most of the other professors, Dumbledore wouldn't frown on him trying to disprove something from the book. Nor would the old man try to limit Tom to the standard curriculum. If he was quite capable of the day's lesson, he was free to try a more advanced procedure and go practice in the corner. Dumbledore would even come over to give him advice from time to time. Tom absolutely disliked the old man, but couldn't deny that he respected him. He felt that Dumbledore held Tom in a similar regard.

Dumbledore would never dare try to hinder somebody's potential and could only respect the ambition and aptitude he showed at his age. But Dumbledore is always suspicious of him, always assuming the worst. The man was usually right, to be fair; Tom did get into some shady business, but Dumbledore shouldn't be able to see though the humble student facade Tom put on. Because of this, Tom still wasn't fully sure of the dynamics of this relationship. The old man once spent so much time trying to "advise" Tom. Perhaps it was because he truly respected the potential and wanted to be his mentor. That would explain why he wanted to try to take Tom off of the "dark path" he had once said Tom was apparently on. He had tried, but Tom didn't much care what anyone considered "dark." There were too many "dark" spells which were utterly useful in regular situations, Tom knew.

Another consideration was that the man may have a better insight into Tom's real thoughts and ideas than he had ever suspected. In that case, the "Friendly lessons and chats" would be Dumbledore's way of keeping an eye on Tom or even trying to keep him in check. Tom was unsure - probably a little of both of those options, probably a third Tom would never understand. Dumbledore was a man who was very hard to read.

The door to the back office opened finally and the old man was standing there. He had a disappointed frown on his face - he was clearly annoyed, and Tom was about to receive a stern talking-to for some reason. Dumbledore's slight anger pushed his natural magic to take shape and radiate off the man, giving the atmosphere a hot tingling feeling. Most children would be cowering at this building pressure in the room, but Tom knew it merely meant Dumbledore was a powerful wizard, no news there.

Tom had learned you had to do something truly terrible to make Dumbledore truly angry. He had never seen the legendary "Angry Albus Dumbledore" but he had heard of the intensity of it. Tom could believe it was a sight to behold. If Dumbledore projects this much power when he's displeased, the magic must be absolutely tangible when the man gets furious. Tom imagined Dumbledore could easily walk through most wards as if they were air in the right situation, if he could radiate that much raw magic.

With a quick gesture from Dumbledore's wand, Tom's transfigurations were undone, and he felt himself floated gently down to the ground in order to prevent the five-foot fall. Tom hated that. So condescending; does he think me a child incapable of catching myself with my own magic?

That was a message too as far as he could tell. Normally, Dumbledore at least started off amiable and friendly in their talks even if he suspected Tom of some "mischief". Normally it would first, be a lame attempt at humor and light chitchat, while Dumbledore tried to feel him out. This time the Professor seemed more than merely annoyed with Tom, and he was going to get straight to the point, whatever that may be. I really can't imagine what he thinks I've done, why is he acting so differently this time? As Tom was being led into the inner office, he thought frantically about which plots could possibly be discovered.

Suddenly Tom realized what this could be about. It had been at least a week since he had last made the house elves confess if they had betrayed him or not. That laziness might have cost him something here; Tom supposed he would find out.

Dumbledore's personal office was a place of great power even within this ancient magic castle. The large oak door alone would intimidate to a lesser person. It radiated power; Tom could easily detect some four to six wards around the office on any given day, and feel the edges of dozens more, so it was safe to say there were many more he couldn't even begin to comprehend. Tom was quite sure he would be unable to break through that door if he had to, even using the most potent magic currently available to him would probably not even scratch the wood. The door slammed behind him as he walked into the office itself, the lock clicked loudly despite there being no actual lock or knob for that matter. Tom made it across the room and to his chair first. He tried to sit down but there was an invisible barrier around the chair and he couldn't touch it; his hand was stopped dead by an invisible wall as he made to grab the back of the chair.

Dumbledore was across the room in a few long strides and took a seat in his own chair. Only after Dumbledore was seated did Tom feel the ward on the chair dissipate. The man wasn't even trying to be subtle; Tom disliked this sudden change in attitude, it was unexpected and probably unnecessary. As Tom sat he noticed the old man had his wand sitting out on the desk. It was not pointing directly at Tom but in his general direction, inches from the powerful wizard's grasp. There could be another message there - but knowing Dumbledore it could be anything. "If you can snatch it and overtake me, I will not oppose you." Perhaps, but that really did not seem likely. And of course there could be no message there at all; it could be that's just where the man keeps it while sitting, easy enough to summon to hand instantly. After four full years as a Slytherin, Tom instantly tended to try and find the hidden meaning in every action a person made in his presence, but with Dumbledore he usually failed.

Dumbledore looked at him, his normally twinkling eyes now piercing blue ice. Tom knew full well what that meant, and he simply couldn't allow it. He had taken measures to learn how to protect his mind, in addition to how to get past other people's barriers and search their thoughts.

Dumbledore must have picked up on Tom's Occlumency training at some point however. Tom had thought he had been extraordinarily subtle about it, Dumbledore must be good. Tom hadn't wanted the man to know that he was on his way to becoming a perfect Occlumens. He had planned to use Dumbledore's own legilimency against him. Tom would have fed him an innocent but misunderstood Tom Riddle, a Tom Riddle whose actions are filled with good intentions regardless of the results. It was one of the ways he planned to gain the man's trust. But Tom must have overestimated his own ability and given the game away. Those blue eyes no longer tried to pierce Tom's mind. Dumbledore must now know Tom was hiding his true thoughts from him and decided to not bother trying any longer. If Dumbledore had really discovered Tom's barriers there was a certain trust that would always be broken.

"Tell me, Mister Riddle," Dumbledore said with no hint of his normal cheer, "what exactly have you done to the house elves?"

Tom had decided to adapt his answers to Dumbledore's reactions rather than go in with a set story. He'd put an innocent and ignorant face on, then replied, "Why, nothing sir. Nothing really, I've had them tend to a few extra tasks but that is what they live for sir. I've become friends with the elf which tends to my room, and he almost insisted on helping me more."

Dumbledore was not moved. "I know it goes further than that, Mister Riddle. You have somehow hoodwinked them all into your service." Dumbledore was growing sterner by the moment. "I'll have you know that I personally consider the elves to be esteemed Hogwarts staff as much as myself. I do not take kindly to students playing games with them for their own amusement."

Dumbledore paused for a moment. "Even the Headmaster himself was distressed to learn of the abuse the house elves were suffering."

Dumbledore was starting to lose steam. "The Headmaster may not feel as strongly about it as I do."

Dumbledore looked annoyed at that, but continued with a new found passion. "I will certainly see to it that he takes it as seriously as it should be taken though."

Dumbledore was looking at Tom now with a hint of disgust on his face. "I do not understand your true purpose for rallying the elves under your control." Dumbledore looked at Tom with his head tilted sideways in confusion and paused before continuing.

"Mister Riddle, the complexity of your plots is getting to the point that I can leave no loopholes for you. Perhaps this is all a mistake on my part, but it seems it could possibly be something much greater which requires my attention."

Tom took that as a compliment and a challenge, though he hid his smile behind his mask.

"There will be an announcement to the school soon." Dumbledore said it firmly and let it hang before going on. "As much as it pains me, I will be personally seeing to it that the entire house elf management system is redesigned."

Tom was curious about this; he could surely find a way around a redesign if he wanted to. Dumbledore was looking far less enthusiastic than he had been before when he spoke again.

"These changes will hurt people Tom. You say you have made friends with your elf, well others have as well and they will be hurt."

Dumbledore looked at Tom hard. Tom did his best to pretend that meant something.

"Mister Riddle, you may not have any affection for lesser beings, no matter what you claim, but other students do. Friendships will die because of whatever plot you were working on, that is a sad thing, Tom."

Dumbledore looked like he meant it, though Tom didn't see how that was sad in that context. It was certainly a shame his plot had been foiled so early, that was slightly sad.

Tom spent many late nights in his private dorm, a privilege only granted to him because he stayed at Hogwarts all year and it just made sense for a top student living at school to have their own quarters. He stayed up late reading books or practicing spells when most of the castle slept. As a result of his study he had become "friendly" with the house elf that goes by the name "Truuey."

Truuey was assigned to Tom's personal chamber. He was to keep it fresh and clean, and see to any small needs Tom may have. Tom asked who had assigned him to his particular room and the elf told him nobody assigned anything. The elves just knew what needed to be done and came to mutual agreements on the assigning of tasks.

From there Tom had reasoned with the elf that since he was a Hogwarts servant bound particularly to Tom's service it only made sense if the elf followed his explicit orders. It didn't take much convincing; the house elves weren't very intelligent creatures. Once Tom had sold that idea to the elf, he also reasoned with the creature that things would be more efficiently run if there was a "Head House Elf". An elf that delegated responsibilities and punishments to all the other elves, if it could be done in an intelligent and organized way it would only help the castle run better. Tom compared it to the way wizards do things although he disagreed wizards ran anything properly, and the elf seemed to like the idea after a little coaxing and manipulating.

It only took a few days, and a few motivational speeches and tips for controlling underlings until Truuey was more or less the dictator that all the other house elves followed with absolute loyalty. House elves were surprisingly agreeable even given their reputation. It only took a week and a half for them to accept and adapt to a global change in an 800 year old system. That was impressive even by Tom's ridiculously high standards. He had known the whole setup was first configured by none other than Helga Hufflepuff and it had probably never changed since implemented. He had foolishly assumed she couldn't be as dim as the stories made her seem but all his experience in the castle had made it obvious that the founders should have reviewed her ideas before they engraved them into the castles system. Surely Dumbledore would change things in time when he came into power, but for now it was almost too easy for Tom to game the systems.

Tom had taken time to build his relationship with the elf which served him, and once Truuey was absolutely loyal to Tom he basically had total control of the entire Hogwarts house elf faction. Their strange magical constrictions made it easy for Tom to program in a near unbeatable system of silence. It could still be beaten, but only by the headmaster. The elves bound to Hogwarts had to answer to the Headmaster above all, regardless of other vows or constrictions. Tom had found that you could trick them into sorts of vows of silence however. Only if asked specific questions by the Headmaster could the elf answer those questions, and even then they had to use very specific answers providing no extra detail. House elf magic was rather odd and specific, useful as well.

So far Tom had only been giving commands that would cause general confusion and disorder on a small scale, to further particular plots. Sometimes he would just generally use the elves' covert skills to harass the people he disliked. Last week Tom had the elves remove the bedding from three different people's beds and replace it with the itchy type no one could be comfortable in. Building a team of minions inside the castle took time, he had to start small and go unnoticed. Apparently I've failed at going unnoticed.

Dumbledore broke him out of thought, "Tom, I demand you stop any and all interaction with the house elves from here on out. This is not negotiable. If you have a certain need my door is always open to you, and I can help you with nearly anything. You are, under no circumstances, to issue orders of any type to any of the elves. You shall not direct other students to manipulate the elves either, nor shall you twist my words in any way to find a hole you can slip through. Have I made myself clear on this matter?" Dumbledore stared at him for a long moment.

"Yes sir." Tom forced out, very annoyed about this. There was a great deal of power to be had in the school if you could wield the house elves cleverly. Surely he could find a way around whatever restrictions Dumbledore forced Headmaster Dippet to put into effect... but there were more important things to focus on. The elves were an acceptable loss by Tom's standards.

"I understand Professor, it was probably wrong of me to ask them to take on even more work on top of everything else they have to do." Tom paused to look down at the desk as though he was ashamed, as he had seen others do.

He then looked up and continued with the shame gone from his face and an indignant stare took its place. Tom made sure to put force into his words when he spoke. "I simply had them doing things like fetching materials for experiments or sending messages to people in my study groups. Perhaps have them bringing me food at odd hours while I study. That type of thing. That is what they are in the school for Professor, is it not? They haven't complained to me at all."

Dumbledore's face was impossible to read as he spoke. "That is more or less their job Tom; however they are not any student's slave. They would not complain if you asked them to break stones using muggle hammers all day either, it's their nature."

Tom tried to look taken aback at the word, "Slave sir? Tuuey was my friend." Tom looked away from Dumbledore, toward one of the odd objects on the shelf as he let the comment sink in.

Dumbledore looked halfway satisfied with that answer; Tom had put enough "emotion" behind the word friend to cause a brief flash of doubt cross through the old wizard's eyes. However Tom wasn't convinced this was the end of matter.

"You may go then Tom, it is getting late." The powerful door behind him clicked again and swung open. Apparently it was the end of it, at least the end of the conversation. Dumbledore would work tirelessly against this plot from every angle after this.

However if that was all Dumbledore had to say on the matter, then Tom was fairly sure his complex set of commands and vows had prevented the old man from learning anything other than his involvement in using extra house elves to help him. Tom was also sure Headmaster Dippet wouldn't have pressed the issue too hard when questioning them for Dumbledore.

Tom got up and started to walk out and as he did he heard Professor Dumbledore speak from behind him in a softer voice.

"I did like the extra detail you put into the stairs on your throne by the way. It looked very complicated, and extremely comfortable."

Tom looked back and the man had regained just a little of his regular cheeriness. Tom simply nodded at him and walked out as a scolded student should.

As he headed back to his dorm he reflected on the loss. An army of unseen minions running around the school at night doing his bidding was certainly a huge loss. He could have slowly over the years used the elves as one of many factors in completely taking over the school. As far as he understood once the elves developed a deep enough pattern of following his specific orders as a "master" they would be bond to him nearly as much as the Headmaster.

There would be pretty much nothing they wouldn't have done in my service if I could trick them into thinking they were accomplishing something else, once the situation got to that point. What did I fail to consider? I missed something if it went wrong so quickly.

Tom wasn't used to a thought-out plan coming undone so quickly and spectacularly. He had taken care to use specific words and phrases while talking to Tuuey, and the elf would have repeated him exactly to the underlings which were similarly bound. It would have taken a very specific line of questioning from the lazy headmaster himself for them to reveal they were taking orders from Tom.

Tom thought about Dumbledore's involvement. He knew that Dumbledore not only spoke with the Merfolk and Centaurs, but took pleasure in it. The old man had to translate for the Headmaster if there were ever problems in the lake or forest. Tom had naturally assumed Dumbledore would speak with the cleaning and cooking "staff" as well but there was no reason the old meddler should have started pressing the Headmaster to ask the right questions. Questions like, "Did Tom Riddle take you into his service, Tuuey?" Or perhaps, "Did Tom Riddle ask you to take over the kitchen, Tuuey?" A very specific line of questioning would be the only way to confirm anything Tom had done with them.

Thinking it over, in retrospect the reformation was rather fast. Tom should have played it out for a year or two before taking total control. He should have used few extra elves now, a few more to his service a few months later and so on. That would have probably gone unseen. Tom had been overambitious and started wielding his elves far too hard too soon. It must have been obvious enough to take note of a plot if somebody was paying attention. Tom hadn't even thought that anybody would glance in that direction; since they were just elves doing what appeared to be work. Dumbledore's bizarre empathy towards the creatures might have been his undoing here; he hadn't considered that at all. Sure Dumbledore might speak with a few from time to time, but that couldn't reveal any plot.

The house elves were acting generally the same as they usually do. They were always cheery and ready for work. Perhaps some were a little tired and overworked, but Tom would never take one out of regular rotation and disrupt regular tasks, which could be noticed by somebody. Tom would use the ones who were currently allotted their required resting time when he needed them, so as to not attract attention. Tom would never have considered somebody would actually take notice of the lowly creatures. Who would have noticed the subtle decrease in their well-being? Ridiculous, they're elves. They had their uses but they didn't warrant that type of compassion. Tom had to wonder how exactly the mind of Albus Dumbledore worked if he could relate to an elf.