It was Halloween at Hogwarts, and Harry was going all in with his costume this year. The previous years hadn’t been anything special, but this year, Professor Slughorn was organizing a huge party for the 5th years and up. All the 6th years had also recently learned how to transfigure themselves in Transfiguration, so it should be easy enough. Harry just hoped he wasn’t stuck in his “costume.” That would really suck, considering he might just land himself in Azkaban then. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and all of their other housemates had decided it would be a surprise what they would come dressed as. It was tradition in the Wizarding World for the identity of oneself to remain secret throughout Halloween, or Samhain as they once called it.
Harry was going as Tom Marvolo Riddle. Now, one might say that it should have been a little strange or perhaps traumatic to go as the young dark lord, but Harry had always been the kind who laughed at their own trauma.
As he prepared to cast the spell, he imagined a young Tom Riddle. It was fairly easy; a face like that wasn’t easy to forget. After casting the spell, Harry looked in the mirror. It was weird looking in the mirror and not seeing his own face staring back. Once Harry managed to tear himself away from the mirror, he put on a Slytherin uniform he had found in the Room of Requirement. Speaking of things he had randomly found, he put on a bracelet he had found at Grimmauld Place. He had asked Kreacher what its purpose was, and after some prodding, he managed to find out that it was an Occlumency bracelet designed for people who, for some reason or another, couldn’t occlude. Why he wasn’t given one last year was a mystery to Harry.
Considering all that had happened, Harry wasn’t exactly the most trusting of the Headmaster, so he wanted to wear the necklace. Dumbledore knew that while Tom was a Master Occlumens, Harry sucked, and so he wouldn’t suspect Harry should he try Legilimency on him. And knowing the Headmaster, he most certainly would.
Looking at himself in the mirror one last time (his new favorite hobby), he walked out of the dorms. He cast a quick Tempus and saw that he was about 20 minutes late. This was planned, of course, so no one attending the party would see him in the common room. The party was held in the Great Hall, so that was where Harry now began walking. As he walked, he thought about how he should act. Arrogant, of course, but hidden beneath a mask of politeness. He also ought to be charming, which might have been a problem, considering the real Harry wasn’t really charming at all. The only reason people sometimes asked him out was because of his fame.
As he arrived before the doors of the Great Hall, he took a deep breath. He opened the doors and walked in.
Showtime.
Harry walked confidently into the Great Hall and got quite a few stares. He was, after all, now quite attractive. He smirked at the thought and wondered who his first victim... uh, prank subject might be. Starting out safe, he went for Ron and Hermione. Ron had done quite an awful job at keeping his costume a surprise for the party; therefore, Harry knew it was Ron who was dressed as the beater for the Chudley Cannons. The person speaking to him could only be Hermione since he doubted many purebloods knew who Amelia Earhart was. Heck, most Muggleborns probably didn’t know either.
Harry strolled over to them.
“Hello,” he purred, his voice now deeper and smoother.
Hermione whipped around, apparently surprised at this “stranger” talking to her.
“Oh, I apologize if I scared you, Amelia Earhart, is it?” Harry said.
“Oh, no, no, it’s totally fine. Hi, yes, I’m Amelia Earhart. How do you know her? Are you a Muggleborn?” Hermione questioned.
“No, a halfblood I’m afraid, and who might you be?” Harry asked Ron.
“Joey Jenkins from the Chudley Cannons,” Ron said, looking skeptical. Sighing, Harry realized he had forgotten Ron’s difficult attitude towards the Slytherins. “And who are you? Or did you just now bother dressing up? Although I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”
“No, no, I am in costume, but just who I am, you’ll have to wait and see,” Harry said, winking at Hermione. He had no romantic feelings towards her at all, but it was fun to see her blushing over something so small.
“Can you at least lend out your name?” Hermione asked.
“Tom, at your service,” he mockingly bowed. Hermione giggled, and Ron shot an annoyed look at her.
Looking out towards the crowd, he saw Ginny walking towards them. She wasn’t wearing a costume. She had probably abandoned it after it was revealed who she was. She hadn’t spotted Harry yet, because then she definitely wouldn’t be walking his way. Oh, this was about to be good.
“Ginevra, good to see you again,” he drawled, taking her hand and kissing it.
Ginny paled considerably but stammered out, “H-hello, Tom.”
“Why, you look a little peaky. Why don’t I accompany you towards the drinks so you can get some water?” Harry said in a tone that demanded no questions.
Ginny clearly didn’t pick up on his tone, since she snarled. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”
“Ginevra, dear, I’m afraid it wasn’t a question,” Harry’s look hardened, and he gripped her arm, intending to drag her away to tell her the truth. He didn’t want his cover blown already. Not when he was having so much fun.
“Don’t ‘dear’ me, Tom,” Ginny exclaimed.
“Whoa, mate, step away from my sister,” Ron said.
“You two know each other?” Hermione asked, confusion evident in her voice.
Ginny stared incredulously at them. “Don’t you know who he is?!”
Ron and Hermione moved their gazes to him, looking expectant.
“Well, if you insist proper instructions are made... Tom Marvolo Riddle, at your service,” Harry smiled wryly. “Well, not really, but you know the saying.”
Hermione paled and took a sharp breath, but Ron just looked as confused as ever.
“Why does that name sound familiar?” Ron questioned, no one in particular, in a whisper.
“Ron, that’s V-V-You-Know-Who when he was a teenager!” Hermione whispered back.
“Having trouble with my pseudonym, I see,” Harry mocked. He felt slightly bad, but the feeling was soon crushed by the fun of this. “And yes, I couldn’t exactly show up looking like my true self, now could I? No, this is much better. And the best part? No one will ever believe you,” Harry smiled sardonically.
“You-You- No! Dumbledore will believe us,” Hermione said firmly.
“So what? ‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’ back at Hogwarts except he didn’t do any damage. Could you imagine? No, you couldn’t. Now, I’ve got matters to attend to. Perhaps I’ll see you later. Do tell if you’re still up for a drink, Ginevra,” Harry said, clearly amused.
He turned on his heel and left the confused and slightly scared Gryffindors behind in favor of his favorite teacher. Snape stood in the corner brooding. He wasn’t wearing a costume but instead was clad in all black. Harry would bet his Firebolt that the man was counting down the minutes until he could leave. Harry, however, also worried that his impression wasn’t sufficient, considering Snape had presumably dealt with the dark wizard before.
“Hello, Severus,” Harry said softly.
Snape turned around, probably wondering who dared to speak to him by his first name. “And you are?” he sneered.
“Why, is that how you greet your lord?” Harry drawled.
Snape only raised an eyebrow, looking slightly annoyed.
“Such mocking, Severus. Truly, I am wounded,” Harry smiled wryly. “Morsmordre,” he then said in Parseltongue.
Snape clutched his arm, his eyes widening. His expression then soured, and Harry felt a presence at his Occlumency shields. Of course, the Potions Master thought it was Harry Potter, since he was the only one apart from the Dark Lord who could speak Parseltongue. Luckily for Harry, Snape knew he sucked at Occlumency and would soon find his shields from the bracelet. Since Snape didn’t know about said bracelet, Harry would presumably be fine. He didn’t dare to think about what would happen should Snape find out that it actually was Harry.
As soon as Snape hit his shields, Harry pushed him out with the necklace.
“You dare?!” Harry hissed.
“I apologize, My Lord. I merely thought you to be the Potter brat in disguise,” Snape said, looking down at the floor.
“You consider the Potter brat an equal to me?” Harry narrowed his eyes.
“No, My Lord, of course not. I simply did not expect you to be here, and Potter is the only other than you who speaks Parseltongue. He... does not like me, and I would not be surprised to see him pull a stunt such as showing up as you, My Lord,” Snape said, grimacing.
Harry had to admit it was kind of funny to watch Snape be afraid of him like this.
“Can I ask how you came to look so different, My Lord?”
“You may, Severus. I merely transfigured myself to myself when I was a teenager,” Harry leaned in as if sharing a secret. “You have now met Tom Marvolo Riddle.”
Snape opened his mouth to say something, but someone got ahead of him. That someone was Slughorn. He was dressed as Merlin, and it wasn’t a very good costume. Harry wrinkled his nose at the distaste.
“Hello, gentlemen. Having a nice ni-,” Slughorn stopped himself when he saw Harry. “You.”
“Me,” Harry said mockingly. “Nice to see you again, Professor.” He did not nod, bow, or do anything that one might do toward someone of a higher status because why would he? He was “Voldemort” after all. It was amusing to be so disrespectful in front of teachers he normally had to pay respect to.
“Y-you look different since I s-saw you last, Tom,” Slughorn stammered out.
“This is a costume party, is it not? I simply thought it would be amusing to be myself for the night,” Harry drawled.
“Y-Y-yes, well, I really must get going. Nice to speak to you, gentlemen,” Slughorn said.
“It seems I must make my leave too. I simply wanted to speak to my friend here,” Harry stated.
Harry walked over to the drinks bar to get a drink. It obviously wasn’t alcohol, considering they were underage, so Harry opted for a lemonade. His eyes scanned the room, looking out for people coming his way. He was also a tad bit worried about what Ron, Hermione, and Ginny might do. Best-case scenario, they just kept to themselves, trying to make a plan but failing. Worst-case scenario, they caused a scene and exposed him. He looked across the dance floor, trying to find the ginger siblings and his bookworm friend. When he found them, he frowned. They were talking to Dumbledore, who was now peering across the large room, evidently looking for someone.
Uh-oh.
As fun as it would be to see Dumbledore’s reaction, he really could not risk it. If he did, his entire night of fun would be over. That would really be a bummer. It was so nice not having people staring at him (if you didn’t count Ron, Hermione, and Ginny).
Harry quickly turned his back to Dumbledore and walked over to Lavender and Parvati. Neither of them was wearing a costume. They had probably taken it off.
“Hello, ladies,” Harry drawled.
“Hello,” Lavender blushed.
Tom Riddle may have been evil and a murderer, but he was also one good-looking lad. It was fun to watch almost the entire female half of the school look longingly after him. Not that he particularly cared. It was almost like he didn’t like women romantically. But that was just a silly thought. He wasn’t like that.
“Um, if you don’t mind me asking, who are you? I’ve never seen you around school before,” Parvati asked sheepishly.
“That would make sense, as I do not go here. I am merely here for the party,” Harry said smoothly.
“How did you get a uniform?” Lavender asked curiously.
“I loaned one from a friend,” Harry lied.
“Who might your friend be?” Lavender asked, always one for gossip.
Harry’s mind drew a blank. What was he supposed to say to that?
Uhh... “Draco Malfoy,” Harry said, not even registering the name coming out of his mouth.
Parvati wrinkled her nose. “You could get better company than that, you know.”
“Well, I can’t say I disagree,” Harry laughed.
The girls looked at each other and then Harry. “I, uh, thought you were friends?” Lavender asked.
“I suppose I said that. Acquaintances are more like it,” Harry said.
“Well, it was lovely to meet you...?” Parvati said, clearly fishing for his name.
“Ah, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Tom Riddle,” Harry said, winking at Lavender.
“But I must get going now. Perhaps you’ll send me a letter?” Harry asked both of them.
The girls nodded, and Harry laughed hysterically on the inside. He was imagining Voldemort opening two letters addressed to Tom Riddle from two teenage girls wondering if they could meet up sometime. Voldemort’s nose would probably pop out from wherever it was in surprise.
Harry turned around and left. He should probably go back to the common room now. Wouldn’t want Dumbledore exposing him. Snape would kill him, and afterwards Ginny, Ron, and Hermione would too.
Today was a successful day. So what if he slightly scared his friends and teachers? It was fun, and Harry needed some fun in his life. And if he went to sleep smiling (and looking like himself again), no one would have to know.
****
The Next Day:
Harry was exhausted. He had gone to bed late last night. It was all worth it, though. As if on cue, Hermione ran over to him with Ron at her heels.
“You’ll never guess who was at the party last night,” Hermione exclaimed.
Parvati, apparently listening in, answered for Harry. “Was it Tom Riddle?” She sighed dreamily.
“How do you know Tom Riddle?” Hermione asked suspiciously.
“He was there last night. Did you not see him?” Parvati asked. “He’s so dreamy.”
Ron choked and coughed for a good 3 minutes. Parvati looked weirdly at Ron. “He even invited Lavender and I to write to him!” she squealed.
“That’s a really bad idea, Parvati,” Hermione warned.
“You’re just jealous because I have game and you don’t,” Parvati scoffed.
“No, really, he’s not a nice guy!” Hermione sounded desperate.
“Whatever, Granger,” Parvati rolled her eyes and left.
“What is going on?” Harry asked, meanwhile laughing like a maniac on the inside.
“Guess who was at the party last night,” Ron said.
“Tom Riddle,” Harry guessed dryly.
“Yes! You’ll never believe what he did…”
The End