Mr. Tom

They were all unruly, despicable creatures. Vermin beneath his shoe, with ear shattering screams of dismay at ever turn. He could recall the very moment his new life went to shit. Their spoiled needs and unapologetic truths. It was a terror to even be among them, yet there he continued.

Standing over the lives of over a dozen wizarding children, attempting to wrap their little minds around the ideologies of magical stance.

“Dennis, I advise that you do not grab nor pull on your classmate’s hair.” He drawled, lowering the textbook from his gaze. He knew the subject matter to bore others, but was disappointed to learn that even the most hyperactive of the lot could not handle a mere ten minutes of study rather than their assigned storybook. “Yes, Samantha Fellows has very pretty hair, but that does not mean you are entitled to another’s own head. Would you prefer I do it to you? Did not think so. Back to your desk, boy. I have no patience for lessers.”

“Aurelio! That is no way to speak to child! He is but a boy! He only transferred here a week ago, and you are to remem-”

“A boy who has continued to torment his classmates despite only being ten years old. Madam Vine, I have little tolerance for your claims when they themselves carry no meaning. Henry Dennis has a clear record of hostility to the class and those around him, with little interest in understanding his wrongdoings. He has a year to correct his ways before being sent off to Hogwarts. I substituted for this class in your stead today for me to observe each of my staff’s educational skills. His actions are less mine and more of your own issues, as well as his guardians’ and their choice of upbringing.” Closing his book, he walked down the line of desks and over to the boy. He bent down to the little one’s level, and pointed indifferently at him.

“Seeking pain in others is not a way to live, Henry. You are young, yes, so I hope that you learn from your actions. Think of me how you wish, but know that I do not wish you a bad time here. You have been ten years old for quite some time, correct? You have less than one year. Less than one year to understand and accept one singular concept; kindness. Young Samantha here could have been your friend, but due to your actions, that path has been skewed. Apologize to her, and maybe while you are still under my care, you may have a friend at Hogwarts.”

The boy, terrified of his presence, nodded and immediately turned to the young girl, who still held tears in her eyes.

“Um… ‘m sorry Samantha. Do you want to play a round of gobstones after?”

Smart boy. Samantha was an avid player of gobstones. They best student at his school. She would never pass the chance at a game.

“Okay,” her ears turning pink, “can I bring Bear?”

The added party, Bear, was the girl’s prized pet cat. A devilish fiend he had the displeasure of meeting. A puffy brown cat that lived for entertainment. She lived mere houses away, so grabbing that damned thing did not seem much of an issue.

“Sure,” said Henry, “I can bring Nubs, they could have a play date.” The boy’s own feline, a defected cat without claws.

The girl smiled brightly, and with the aid to accidental magic, her hair shimmered a dazzling green. She grabbed hold of the boy’s hands, shaking them furiously with excitement.

Deeming his presence as no longer required, he dismissed himself from the class and motioned for Madam Vine to continue teaching as usual. Of course, with a light-hearted threat that was far from so, warning her of her impulsive ways. He ensured that she listen before judging others, as well as pay a closer eye on any and all warnings.

Looking back to the class before departure, Madam Vine had dismissed her students in favour of a quick break outdoors. Following, he watched as two children, Henry and Samantha, were quick to running off school grounds, assuming that they were running home to kidnap their pets from home. As nauseating as the sight was, he was pleased to see the children befriend one another. He was relieved as well.

Especially since Henry was a squib.

• • •

He had only returned to the living plains four years ago, and yet, he felt as if he’d achieved more during his chance of redemption than he had when he terrorized the wizarding world for more than a decade. All he had to show for his past doings were nightmares and ruthless killings. In his rampant desire for blood purity, he had probably spilled more magical blood than any Dark Lord to have ever lived. Too much blood; innocent blood.

Awakening in his new body, he had come to realize the gravity of his mistakes, the rationality and sanity washing over his body like cold rain. It was never about purity, it never had been. It was of acceptance, and the ability to learn from it.

His thirst for blood remained, but was quickly diminished by his desire to teach. To educate. To watch those of magic to learn and grow into their own, was by far the greatest form of satisfaction to grace his eyes. Albus Dumbledore denied him his wish, and so he learned. Albeit fairly late, but learned nonetheless. It took nearly thirty years, but he has done it. With four years of new life, he had finally completed his first wish within a single year.

Hogsmeade Primary. Founded by one wizard, named Aurelio Domarion Tom.

With what was once known as the Shrieking Shack, it was torn down and rebuilt as a magical school for those younger than eleven years old.

He learned quite early that the one thing that separated those born of magical knowledge than those raised without it was simply that. Knowledge.

When he arrived at Hogwarts all those years ago, he knew nothing of the world’s beliefs or customs. He was a child out of their element, with no preparation for the world they were forcefully shoved into. He called it unfair, for those raised with magic had knowledge far exceeding those who had to study years worth history in just days. He wished for another school to be constructed, one that would rectify this large hole in wizarding education. Of course, the request did come with much questioning.

At first, authorities believed his school to be the beginnings of a feud between his school and Hogwarts. They believed him to try and rival Hogwarts’ own power and stance in history and current government. The idea of politics or power of that magnitude no longer appealed to him in such a way anymore.

He had come into the new world through a body once lived. The real Aurelio Tom had suffered an unknown curse at the hands of Death Eaters back at the battle of Hogwarts. The man had apparently been a well-known wizard amongst the people of Hogsmeade, and at the realization of Hogwarts being sieged by dark wizards, jumped at the chance of hero work. The man had slain over thirty of Death Eaters before getting hit. Paralyzingly him as he turned to stone, the process only stopping when his attacker was offed by another wizard.

For years, with no help from healers, Aurelio was bound. It was only until Voldemort’s awakening in the body that the stone shattered, letting the body stand and roam once more. The true Aurelio Tom knew more, and out grew Tom Riddle.

It was daunting, becoming a new man with no memory of the host. He relied solely on the people of Hogsmeade and pensieve memories. It took many months, with trial and error before the holes of Aurelio Tom were filled to near perfection. The lives of family members, friends and neighbours were taken to memory, and the only true evidence to decipher the two would be nothing but the truth serum itself.

“Mr. Tom! Mr. Tom!”

A student of his school, Hannah Carrons, approached him one weekend. He’d simply been on a minor outing, shopping for new fabrics to update his wardrobe.

“Ah, Ms. Carrons. A pleasure. How may I help you?”

“Mama says you were in Gryffindor, that true? You don’t sound or act like one.”

“Oh? My apologies. I am indeed from the house of lions, but can you tell me what a true Gryffindor is meant to be? Teach me.”

“Gryffindors are brave, Ravenclaws are smart, Hufflepuffs are loyal, and Slytherins are…um, mama says they are evil, but my papa says they are cunning and ambitious. What does that mean, Mr. Tom?”

Aurelio, a Gryffindor. A previous truth he once despised, but grew to accept. The original Aurelio was a proper lion through and through. From charging headfirst into danger, and having a knack for traitorous adventures, the man was a magnificent representative of his own house. He attempted to replicate much of the man’s own charisma, but failed spectacularly.

“I cannot paraphrase this enough - people change all the time,” he answered, “and to be fairly honest, I believe the whole idea of sorting to be quite problematic now. Dividing children for the sake of healthy competition and early interests is rather limiting to the mind. Not all lions are brave, nor are all Hufflepuffs are loyal.”

By pulling facts from fiction, and history from the imaginary, he brought forth his own form of manipulation to persuade the whole village that his new change in personality was the result of his trauma of being paralyzed by Death Eaters. His sudden interest in the future of the children, and the strong emphasis on their education in terms of surviving the real world. From then, he was free to do as he wishes with no one looking too closely.

“To be ambitious, means to have a desire and achieve what is thought impossible. To want to reach the top when it seems so far. To win, and to succeed.” He paused, pointing to the young girl with his wand, “To be ambitious, is to be driven by your goals. Your grandparents were quite ambitious, I believe.”

“Gran? But she tells me she was in Ravenclaw!”

“You do not need to be in Slytherin to be ambitious, Ms. Carrons. One must only see their goal, and do what they must to reach it. I understand that your family took great risk in coming here. I recall your father allaying to me your family’s tales.” She could see the fear in the girls eyes, and he was quick to correct it. “Hannah, there is no shame in it, I promise you.”

“B-But my gran!”

“Saw the error of her ways and rectified it with glorious purpose.” He added, “She was marked as an aid for dark wizards, but what she did was nothing but brave and ambitious. She sought to it that her family was safe, feeding falsities to the Dark so that they may survive his tyranny. That woman saw her dreams to the end, and look at you now. A promising witch to enter a promising school in just a few years. You are a great witch in the making, Ms. Carrons. Merlin only knows if I will be there to see it.”

Satisfied, the girl ran with tears to hug him at his waist, the sudden act tipping him off theoretical scale.

“Thank you, Mr. Tom.” Before then, she ran off to who knows where else within the borders of the budding wizarding village.

He had come to realize just how many lives he had touched during his reign of terror. Magical children left with one parent, some left parentless, others left to fend for themselves in homes that may not love or have enough to care for them.

Bethany Travers née Carrons was a death he remembered, the taste of the green curse still staining his tongue.

He had much to repent for. He only wished that before he dies once more, that it would be enough.