All the Wrong Choices

I watched as the three kids sat before me, their eyes wide with bewilderment. Hermione took notes on everything that could possibly pertain to finding Voldemort's remaining horcruxes. Ron simply listened to my story and occasionally offered his own commentary. I tried not to talk too fondly of Tom for Harry's sake, but often times I couldn't help it.

Ron shook his head as my most recent story came to an end. “I don't believe that for a second, Professor. Do you truly expect me to believe that Voldemort told someone he loved them?” I crossed my arms at the red-haired boy. Ron was, I had learned over the last few days, quite the critic.

“What could I possibly get out of making that up, Weasley?”

This shut Ron up quickly. Hermione shushed him for added measure and reviewed her notes.

“So, let's see here,” Hermione murmured, quickly flipping through pages, “We've got the diary, which he made into his first horcrux in… December of 1943? Does that sound right?”

“Yes,”

“And he made this horcrux by killing Myrtle?” Hermione asked.

“It can be viewed that way, yes, that is the common belief,” I nodded, glancing down at my feet, “I believe that he made that horcrux by killing Sybil Philpott. That would, of course, explain why he killed him in the first place after telling me he would close the chamber. He wanted to preserve his sixteen-year-old self in his diary so that one day someone, your younger sister,” I nodded to Ron, “Would come by it and finish his work for him.”

“No offense, Professor, but how is any of this relevant to the remaining horcruxes?” Harry asked. I looked to Hermione for an answer. I was simply telling my story. These kids were bleeding me of any information they saw fit – I was only here to deliver it, and starting at the beginning was easiest.

“I'm hoping, Professor, that something will jog your memory. Something that was off about Tom that might be able to clue us in to the locations of the horcruxes. Any odd behaviors… stuff like that.” Hermione explained, more so to Harry than myself.

“Tom had handfuls of odd behaviors,” I laughed, for what seemed like the first time in forever. Even after all of these years, he was the only thing that could make me laugh. Harry let out a sarcastic comment of agreement as Hermione continued flipping through her pages.

“Ah. Slytherin's locket. Tom gave it to you while you were students.”

“Yes,” I nodded curtly, “He did.”

“Was it a horcrux when he gave it to you?” Hermione asked.

“No. Tom hadn't yet made his first horcrux – the diary. How he got that locket is still a mystery to me, but it hadn't yet been tainted when he had me wear it. No, he did that later on, the sneaky bastard,” Hermione watched me quizzically.

“Professor, do you still have the locket?” Hermione asked. I gasped.

“Oh, no. No, no. I gave that away ages ago.”

“Gave it away?” Harry asked. “To who?”

“Oh – some shop. I'm not too sure. Perhaps it will come to me later.”

“So, so far we've got the diary, the locket, and the ring,” Hermione nodded, “Assuming that is what Tom's trip to Little Hangleton was all for.”

“Yes,” I nodded, “I later found out that he killed the remaining members on his paternal side and framed his mother's brother, Morfin, for the murders. He was able to turn the ring into a horcrux from those murders.” Hermione nodded.

“Continue on, then.”

I racked my brain, trying to think of what had happened next. “Not too much happened in the few years after our sixth year. I brought Tom home with me the summer after our sixth year so he wouldn't have to go back to the orphanage. My father was upset that I brought a boy back home with me, as any father would be, but he was welcoming nonetheless. Tom was very respectful during his stay there, and my father even let him live with us after we graduated until we got onto our feet. My father died in the summer of 1944, which was devastating for me. Elsa had to go live with our Mum. But Tom helped me through it, and I received a hefty inheritance from him…”

I rambled on, continuing to think of anything Tom did that would have been odd.

“That time period there,” I spoke, “Between the end of our sixth year and the summer after we graduated… That was probably the most normal time of our relationship. I don't know if I had actually gotten to him or if he was just planning something, but he was tame then. As tame as Tom Riddle gets.”