The Patronus of Tom Riddle

When sensation returned to his body and his tongue thawed enough to move in his mouth again — thanks to Aola’s ministrations, of course — Tom hissed with hatred: “Thanks that it wasn’t 'Crucio, ' you idiot!” Even after a standard Freezing Charm, the sensations were unpleasant. If he could have seen the giant-born brat, he would have incinerated him with a look! But Aola’s spell worked perfectly, shielding the oaf from his righteous anger. “Why were you spying on us then?!” a voice boomed indignantly from somewhere to the left. “I wasn’t spying on anything!” Tom snapped back, although that was exactly what he had been doing when the frightened half-giant’s spell hit him. “Forgive him, Tom! He didn’t mean it,” the girl interceded for Hagrid. “How are you feeling?” She solicitously felt his forehead. Tom swayed. He had to lean on her arm. Such a disgrace… “I can imagine what he’d do if he did mean it!” The nasty aftereffects of the charm were worsened by the annoyance that Aola was seeing him in such a ridiculous state. The boy wanted to sink through the earth. But not before wringing the neck of that cursed half-breed! “Apologize immediately, Rubeus,” Miss Meroving demanded. “You are just as bad, Tom! Why were you creeping up and eavesdropping?!” “Sorry…” “I wasn’t creeping up! Keep your apologies…” this last part was directed at Hagrid. “He’ll give us away, Miss Aola!” “I won’t give anyone away!” Marvolo’s hot-tempered grandson choked with indignation, reaching for his wand. “Right, quiet, both of you!” the girl demanded, frowning, and caught Tom’s hand. He huffed offendedly but did not resist — his beloved’s touch could never be unwelcome. “No one will give anyone away; Mr. Riddle is a man of honour,” she continued, and those words felt incredibly pleasant to his young, inexperienced soul. “Of course. Besides, I simply… fundamentally don’t know what you are talking about,” Tom replied with dignity, mastering his fit of rage and his stumbling tongue. “I didn’t hear a word of your conversation.” Aola looked at him and suddenly asked insinuatingly: “And if I were to ask… would you help me?” Yes! A thousand times yes, whatever she had in mind! If only she would keep looking at him like that… and asking for help. Whatever her last request had cost him, Tom had already blissfully forgotten. “Anything in my power, milady… What is required?” the boy responded readily. “Help me steal a unicorn.” Mr. Riddle’s jaw dropped. The heiress of the Merovingian clan, a delicate beauty, a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all, wanted to kidnap a sad old horse with a sawn-off horn from a traveling menagerie?! “But… why?” Aola sighed: “He is suffering in that cage… all animals suffer, but unicorns especially. They cannot bear captivity… A little longer and the creature will perish.” The invisible Hagrid joined in, passionately describing the suffering of imprisoned unicorns. Miss Meroving caught herself and applied a 'Muffliato'. It was about time… “Why not just buy him?” Tom suggested reasonably. Aola stamped her foot. Oh, how he had waited for that gesture from her! It was so natural… it suited her so well. “I tried! That wretched… creature! She is stubborn, she won’t agree to any sum!” Imagine that… Were there people in this world upon whom milady’s charms did not work? It turned out the owner of the menagerie and circus director was a woman. Apparently, the golden-eyed girl’s charm did not extend to members of her own sex. “She makes money from his horn… it is very expensive, you see…” Aola sighed sadly. “She doesn’t understand, or doesn’t want to understand, that the unicorn won’t last long. He is at his limit…” Truth be told, the suffering of the horse did not particularly concern Tom. It was fed and cleaned, and yet it wasn’t happy. Although… he hadn’t been happy in the orphanage either, had he? But the suffering of the girl he loved — that was an entirely different matter. He would steal a hundred unicorns and a bonnacon to boot, if only to keep tears from shining in her beautiful eyes. The thought that such a stunt, in case of failure, would surely get him expelled from school didn’t even visit the boy’s mind. But the prospect of earning a kiss seemed tantalizing and quite reachable. Having heard their plan, Tom made his own corrections: acting right now was risky; the director would immediately suspect Lady Meroving. They should wait a couple of hours. “She will suspect anyway… but let her prove it,” Aola murmured thoughtfully. While she thought, biting her full lips, Tom greedily admired her fine features and long eyelashes that cast shadows on her cheeks. He had missed her… terribly. If it weren’t for the invisible Hagrid loitering nearby, Tom would have said something sweet to her. That she was very beautiful… for example. Suddenly Aola brightened: “I have it!” and quickly returned the half-giant to his normal appearance. “There is one spell… a difficult one, though.” Looking around, she took hold of her elegant wand. “Stand like that, Rubeus… Don’t move.” She waved her wand and spoke something in a beautiful, unfamiliar language. In the first seconds, nothing happened. And then Hagrid began to… change somehow. He rippled like water on a lake, bubbles appearing like a geyser before an eruption. And then something clicked, and out of the giant oaf popped… another one, exactly the same! A spitting image! “Wow!” Tom admired childishly. “Will you teach me?” “Certainly…” Aola promised. “Are you feeling alright? Perhaps we should do it ourselves after all?” “No, no, it’s already passed!” Tom assured her and hastily presented his chest for the spell. At first, it tickled where the charge hit. Then warmth flowed over his skin, smelling of roses… Click! And Tom saw something like a rainbow film slide off his fingertips, and in the next second, it turned into himself. “A visual copy?” Tom asked, touching his double’s hand. It turned out to be quite tangible. Tom Number Two stood still, neither moving nor speaking. “No, quite a real one. It will stay stable for half an hour… They cannot speak; they can only move.” “And you?” Rubeus asked. “I cannot transform myself…” “Then you go with the doubles and try to make sure as many people as possible see you. We will do everything,” Tom replied. “Can you manage?” Aola asked with concern. “Do you doubt me?” he countered with a challenge. In anticipation of the adventure, the boy felt more than just excitement; it felt as if he could move mountains right now. “If anything happens — you had nothing to do with it; I enchanted you and forced you. Is that clear?” the girl warned firmly before making the teenagers invisible. Both immediately protested. “Either you promise, or everything is off,” Aola threatened. Tom admired her ability to get what she wanted and promised, although the very thought of shifting the blame onto his beloved seemed loathsome. He had agreed himself… and with joy. And that is exactly what he would say if caught. If Lady Meroving said that keeping unicorns in captivity was a crime — then so it was. The Disillusionment Charm also turned out to be a fun thing; Tom had never experienced it on himself before. His hands and body became… as if transparent and mirrored at the same time, blending into the surroundings. He could see Hagrid, too. Just as semi-transparent as the shimmer over a road on a hot day. But others could not see them. Aola repeated the instructions, took their doubles by the arms, and walked along the tents to blend into the walking crowd at a suitable spot. Not without pleasure, Tom noted that he looked quite good — quite distinguished — beside the beauty. Not like that scarecrow… He would remember that Freezing Charm! If only the prehistoric mammoth didn’t blunder… Tom did not doubt his own agility for a second. The invisible pair quickly headed to the entrance of the menagerie. The flow of visitors had subsided, and slipping inside past the bored ticket-taker was easy. Sending Hagrid straight to the unicorn, Tom crept to the enclosure of the Cornish Pixies. Releasing large predators was dangerous — by the time the keepers realized, someone might be maimed. But pixies… they were just right. They would cause such a commotion! To catch the mischievous creatures' attention, Tom lightly tapped on the bars with his fingernail. The wicked, toothy little faces immediately pressed against the rods; the pixies greedily sniffed the air. The boy unlocked the catch… tiny blue rockets burst from the cage like fireworks. What a chaos began… Cackling maliciously in high-pitched voices, the pixies began to dart over the visitors, pulling their hair and snatching food from their hands. A couple of hooligans tried to unlock the manticore’s cage, but the lock there was charmed for security. Women and children shrieked. Fathers of families reached for their wands, but hitting the agile elves with a suitable spell was not easy. In the rising turmoil, Tom dashed to the harpies' cage and, after a moment’s hesitation, opened it too. With wild, triumphant shrieks, the half-birds burst into freedom. Now, run to the unicorn… in the resulting crush, it was hard not to bump into anyone, but Tom managed even this task. The door to the paddock was wide open, and Hagrid was whispering something tenderly into the horse’s ear. It tossed its head and bowed, offering its back. The teenager climbed on, and the creature bolted for freedom. Not a trace of the sad old horse remained — the unicorn flew like Pegasus. Its hooves seemed barely to touch the ground; it cleared the high fence in one bound and galloped along the lake shore toward the north, to the Forbidden Forest. To freedom. Tom watched the animal with unexpected admiration. Then he grunted. Never had a more clumsy or unsightly “virgin” than Hagrid been carried on the back of its kin. And then Tom noticed a keeper aiming his wand at the fleeing unicorn. Use magic?! Reveal himself… A solution presented itself instantly — Riddle intercepted a laughing harpy darting over the crowd with a slowing charm and hurled it at the man. The wand flew out of his hand. Both rolled on the ground, locked in combat. Soon the man managed the wild half-bird and, scratched but terribly pleased with himself, dragged it back to the cage. He evidently decided the horse would get hungry and return on its own after its walk. What harm could she do, being hornless? Satisfied, Tom surveyed the chaos he had wrought, which had reached its peak: pixies and those whose ears they were pulling were screeching, harpies were throwing manure, flashes of spells and strong language were erupting, and he decided it was time to get out himself.