Ab aeterno

Professor Slughorn looked around the classroom only to see students on the verge of falling asleep. Mulciber was outright sleeping on a pile of his textbooks. Rosier and Avery had sleepy and drowsy eyes of people who physically are still here but their minds were disconnected from reality. His gaze moved to the left, and there was Tom Riddle, his favorite. An incredibly talented orphan who got the scholarship and now was the pride and joy of  Hogwarts, an elite all-boy school situated in Scotland. Here the troubles of the war seemed very distant, an echo of darkness easy to mix up with growl of thunder and howling of winds, regular visitors since September. Horace Slughorn was pleased with the fact that, for once, the scholarship worked out to the best, even more than headmaster Armando Dippet seemed to be. Tom Riddle was sure to write his name in bold letters in the history of their school… and, perhaps, the history in general. Right at this moment the talented orphan was looking out the window, his black hair catching the last rays of warm autumn sun as if absorbing them. He had finished with his paper a while ago, and seemed to be deep in his thoughts when Slughorn announced: “I believe we can finish a little early today. What would you say, boys?” There were cheering mumbles, and students started getting up from their desks. Tom followed the others, still deep in his thoughts, and Horace felt a pang of sorrow, so untypical to him. This boy, this remarkable boy, was not meant for anything that was visibly troubling his thoughts at the moment! “Tom… would you stay for a moment?” he said, and Tom nodded at once, murmuring “Of course, sir” in the tone that was filled with respect and affection. “Go on, boys, go on… I will return your Tom to you safe and sound, don’t you worry.” Rosier, Avery and Nott, who were waiting for their unpronounced leader, left, and when the door closed Horacio and Tom were now alone. “Am I in trouble, sir?” asked the boy, and his faint smile that would surely one day break so many hearts showed Horace that he knew well enough he was not and still chose to ask the older man for reassurance. Tom undoubtedly respected him, and cared for his opinion. “None that I know about,” Slughorn sat on his desk showing Tom with this action that he was now talking to him as a friend mostly, not as a teacher. “But I have an idea… and, to be completely honest, my ideas are more often than not pretty accurate… I have an idea that you might be not in trouble but troubled. Am I right or am I right?” He was smiling now, looking at the boy with affection and understanding Tom undoubtedly lacked from an older man. An orphan… he must be lacking in a father-figure territory, and Horace was having a feeling that Tom had chosen him for this role.  “How did you know… sir?” Horace gave a soft laughter and shook his head. “I read people well, my boy… So, what is troubling you?” Tom was visibly perplexed. He looked at his shoes, then glanced at the window again, and, finally, seemed to be ready to share his thoughts.  “Imagine that you saw something… unsettling in the behavior of someone you know. You are not friendly with each other, but you aren’t unfriendly either. What would you do?” “Hm… that depends. Unsettling in what way? Does this person behave in an unsettling manner to himself or to others?” Slughorn bent his eyebrows. He had expected Tom to share with him some common troubles of the kind a boy of his age might have. First infatuation, first romance, first time his heart was broken… but that conversation was taking a darker tone that he had expected.  Tom gave him a very insecure glance, and Horace added: “Hypothetically. This is all hypothetical, what we’re discussing, isn’t it?” “Yes, sir, of course,” said Tom quickly and smiled gratefully. “Hypothetically… you heard a person talking to himself… which wouldn’t be a very odd thing coming from this particular person… but the things he was saying… those things were grim.” Slughorn noticed how they shifted from unsettling to grim, and that was not very assuring. “I mean… In this situation you aren’t sure of anything, are you? Talking to yourself about something… is not a crime. You can’t report a crime that hasn’t yet been committed, can you?” “A crime… Tom, what’s going on?” now Slughorn was worried. “Tell me, my boy, that sounds… not good. Not good at all.” “I don’t want to assume anything about another person, sir. I don’t want to say anything that might hurt a person who seems to be… hardly coping. Hypothetically.” “I am worried, Tom.” “I am worried as well, sir.” Horace took Tom by the elbow and looked at him with a very resolute expression. “Tell me. And I will not let any living soul know that you told anything.” Tom was struggling for a moment or two, but then he gave up. His shoulders fell, his voice became a whisper… “It's Hagrid, sir.” Tom joined the other boys waiting for him. Avery was looking at him with the sort of quiet admiration so common among the boys of his age. Theodor whispered something in his ear, and Tom jokingly pushed him in the shoulder.  Horace Slughorn watched the students walking to the lake. He wanted to believe that Tom looked relieved now, as if sharing his thoughts with the teacher gave him an opportunity to take a breather. Now it was up to him, Horace Slughorn. He never liked the noisy and restless boy, Rubeus Hagrid. He was loud, and wild, and god knows how he got into Hogwarts in the first place.  “I will keep an eye on him,” Slughorn said aloud to the empty classroom.  “When?” “Soon enough. I will tell you,” Tom's eyes were searching his face as if to find any evidence of betrayal.  “Are you sure he has the guts?” Nott wasn’t impressed with him, and Antonin imagined how gutting this fellow with a rusty knife could feel. Antonin didn’t care for Theo’s approval, and didn’t care for Theo at all.  “Are you questioning my judgment, Theo?” Antonin was happy to hear how cold Tom’s voice had become. Up yours, Nott! “Never, Tom. I was just wondering…” “You may stop wondering. He will do everything… will you, Tony?” Antonin wouldn’t allow anyone to call him like that but Tom.  And he wanted to do everything he was told to. He wanted to become one of the Knights of Walpurgis. He could become the youngest of all of them! He would show them, show Tom that he was worthy! “I will.” When the body is found, it is Hagrid who takes the blame. Tom Riddle is paler than before when professor Slughorn pulls him in embrace, hugs and keeps quietly telling him that it wasn’t Tom’s fault. Tom did all he could. Tom lets Slughorn hug him, and pat him, and calm him down. He’s thinking about the box. The box is hidden in a secret place, and it has a new trophy inside. Tom took it himself after Antonin Dolohov was knighted as one of the Knights of Walpurgis. The woods around the school are deep and dark.