Color Me Adventurously

So this is what it feels like to be dead. He didn’t think it would be so…peaceful. Had he known, the Dark Lord may have decided that horcruxes really were too much of an effort. He allowed himself to float along in the warmth and darkness, and realized that he’d never been happier. The Dark Lord didn’t have to listen to his followers bicker or sneer at each other, didn’t have to hear screams from anywhere nearby, and certainly didn’t have to hear a particularly crazed yet somehow sultry voice in his ear. The Dark Lord shivered at the mere thought.

As if on cue, he heard as if from far off in the darkness a voice. He couldn’t make out what it was saying at first and quite frankly he didn’t care. He was dead for crying out loud. What does the voice matter? Unfortunately, thinking this just made the voice clearly audible and he drew in a sharp breath. “Are you quite alright?”

The Dark Lord peeled his eyes open and his surroundings hazed into view. The first thing he was able to register was the voice that woke him up. Dumbledore! Of course the old fool would follow him into the afterlife. It wasn’t enough that he’d made his school life miserable and continued to make him miserable throughout his career. “Oh good, you’re awake now,” Dumbledore said. “Perhaps now I should tell Wing or Rowan that all is well. Poor girls, they were terrified when they found you. And here I thought fairies didn’t care about humans. It just goes to show you – ”

Dumbledore trailed off as the Dark Lord brought a hand to his eye and rubbed. He thought it would hurt like it always did when he involuntarily did that some mornings, but it didn’t. It fact he was quite surprised when he realized he had eye lids again. And a nose. And eyebrows. His hand reached further up and he ran it through fairly long, smooth, and lush hair. He tried to pull it to see. It easily shaded his eyes and he saw that it was precisely the same color as it had been in his Hogwarts days.

“Hm.” The Dark Lord shrugged and sat up. Then he gazed up at the oblivious wizard before him and realized it was in fact not Dumbledore. What gave him away? Well, his robes were a blinding white and embroidered with gold. The Dark Lord remembered the flamboyant maroon suit Dumbledore had worn on the first day they’d met. No, this was definitely not Dumbledore.

Suddenly the Dark Lord felt much happier.

“You must be wondering who I am,” the greying wizard announced.

"As long as you’re not Dumbledore, I don’t care.”

The wizard chose to ignore this and continued on. “I am Grendel the Really Old. In my youth, I saved the Maple World countless times and went on amazing adventures with my friends.”

“I’m sorry, did you say the Maple World?” The Dark Lord raised his newly grown brows at this Grendel the Old. “What the bloody hell is that?”

“Please refrain from using foul language,” Grendel warned. “This,” he continued gesturing around the neat wood library, “is the Maple World. It is vast and ever-changing (perhaps more than some people like) but it is nevertheless Maple.” The wizard waited for a moment to allow this to sink in but the Dark Lord, who was by no means a foolish man, knew that there was no such thing as the Maple World.

“Then again,” said a small voice at the back of his head, "you did just die. And yet here you are. Anything’s possible.”

“So, now that you know a little bit about me. Who are you?”

“Lord Voldemort,” the Dark Lord responded in his usual grand way.

“I’m sorry, that name is already taken. Would you care to go by Lord Snazzypants? I’ve been hoping to call someone by that name but it seems to be unpopular.” Grendel’s wizened face fell as he pondered this. The Dark Lord was speechless. “So, Lord Snazzypants?” Grendel piped up again hopefully.

“Certainly not,” the Dark Lord sneered. “If Lord Voldemort is ‘taken,’ how about The Dark Lord Voldemort?”

“Too long, it must be less than 14 letters.”

“I AM LORD!”

“No reason for all capitals and no extra characters.”

“I hate you.”

“Taken.”

The Dark Lord sighed. He only had two options, it seemed, and while neither one was particularly pleasant to him, he had to admit that for the first time ever he preferred his real name. He was most certainly not going to walk around the world, Maple or no, being addressed as Lord Snazzypants. Who would ever take him seriously? “Tom Riddle,” he replied.

“How perfectly droll. But if that is your wish, then fine.” Grendel frowned down at Tom Riddle and he realized that Grendel was actually floating in a circle of light. That was…different. Even for someone who had pushed the boundaries of known magic and who could fly. Yep, that’s right. Tom Riddle could fly…

So could Grendel apparently.

Or at least hover.

In a circle of gold, white, and blue light.

Shiny.

“Now Tom Riddle, which job would you like to choose? A thief, pirate, wizard, bowman, or warrior?”

“Erm… I’m a wizard.”

“You would like to be a wizard?”

“I am a wizard.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, I’m sure! I was born this way!”

“Well then, CONGRATULATIONS! You’re a wizard, Tom Riddle!”

“Yeah, thanks for the observation,” Tom growled.

“Now to begin your training…”

Tom’s eyes narrowed as he glared at the old wizard and began to wonder just how much more of this he could take. However, before he could turn around and walk out the door he realized something very important. “Where’s my wand?”

“I see you’re eager to go hunting, so here you go. Your very own beginner’s wand!” Grendel handed him a plain rather dull looking wand with a smile.

Tom Riddle knew there was no point in arguing since the man was obviously senile but couldn’t quite keep his bottom lip from trembling. He turned away, walked to the door, wrenched it open, and stepped out.

“What the hell?”

“Watch your language!”