Chapter Nine. Tom
My stunt with the play did not go unnoticed, and soon Dippet, Dumbledore, and a number of rootless teachers took a step in response. No, there were no reprisals against me — not yet, and what for? If you push too hard, you only make things worse for yourself — you admit that your opponent is right.
So there was a series of lectures on the topics of "good Muggles," "rich cultural life," "scientific progress," and, of course, "the common good of humanity." The lectures were short and seemingly improvised — if there was an opportunity during a lesson or a conversation with a student to insert a few phrases on the desired topics, they did so.
After a couple of weeks, the authority of the teachers did its job, and the play about "Mamba" was remembered, but somehow abstractly — exclusively as something entertaining, without any satirical undertones. I was forbidden from staging new plays on the pretext that it was "too Muggle entertainment." Yeah, double standards were evident. We could put them on in Ravenclaw, but outside the living room – no way. And we couldn't invite audience members from other departments either...
Was I afraid of getting involved in a confrontation? Well... let's just say I had my reservations. But Mother Magic, the Gods, or the Force are very insistent on changing Reality, and they see Hogwarts as the key. It's not a fact, by the way, that I'm the only "Chosen One." It's very possible that a dozen other time travellers are trying to fix the situation... And finally, my "bites" didn't stand out against the performances of other pure-blood ideologues. Some students from the Senior Families could afford to do much more.
In October, after the dust settled, I finally managed to start the Game with Tom. I should note that it is still anonymous, and what's more, the boy doesn't know about it yet.
"Tom Riddle sat in a niche in the corridor on the third floor — a convenient place, hidden behind the armour, where no one would bother him, yet the corridor was busy enough that he could observe interesting scenes from time to time.
Tom didn't admit it to anyone... not even to himself... but he was having a very hard time at Slytherin. Few people bullied him directly, but the contemptuous glances, the patronising attitude... Many things annoyed him. And the worst thing was that there was nothing he could do about it! Respond to a "harmless joke" from a pure-blooded aristocrat who thinks spells that make you rush to the toilet are funny... and you could end up in the same orphanage, but with your magic blocked — Tom had already seen precedents.
It wasn't that they often made fun of him... The boy was painfully self-conscious and studied so hard that he was on par with his pure-blooded peers in the school programme. Quite an achievement, considering that they had been trained since childhood! Of course, he had plenty of gaps in his knowledge — he was constantly tripped up by "common knowledge" about traditions, rituals, and many other things. But still... There was a good chance that he, Tom Riddle, would be on par with the pure-bloods by the time he graduated!
And maybe... the boy closed his eyes and tears appeared from under his lids... maybe he wasn't a Muggle-born after all, but a half-blood... and his family would accept him... Wiping away his tears, he once again became somewhat haughty, either a particularly powerful Muggle-born or a half-blood of dubious origin, unwanted even by his own family.
Meanwhile, voices rang out in the corridor...
"Come on!" objected a shaky young bass voice, "Legilimency hasn't been cancelled! If Dippet gets into your mind, so what? He's a Master, after all, and it's very difficult to prove Legilimency in such a case.
"What about the artefacts?" objected another youthful tenor, "They'll give the alarm!
"A signal! Ha! You're not Black or Malfoy, you'll never have such artefacts! That's why I'm telling you — don't be offended and learn Occlumency! Learn at least enough to confidently sense an intrusion into your mind and resist it for at least thirty seconds — then we'll talk! Right now, you can't be trusted with any serious secrets...
"I don't talk to Dippet," the tenor declared indignantly.
"Hah! You may THINK so. But in reality, maybe you go to him once a week, where he 'reads' your mind and then 'corrects' it. But of course, I'm exaggerating... Do you really think that only the headmaster is a Legiliment? For full Legilimency, yes, you need talent. But almost every pure-blood senior has at least a little bit of it — you know, with a wand, eye to eye... But the real Masters... I'm willing to bet that all the deans are pretty good at it, and so are some of the teachers and seniors. It's just that this art is semi-forbidden, so they learn it in secret and then don't brag about it.
"Yes, that's true..." said the invisible young man in a melancholy tenor voice, "I wouldn't brag about it either. What advantages would it give me in a fight...
"Not just in battle... Imagine you're sitting at the dinner table and you see that one of your neighbours... or someone from another department is in a bad mood. You take a careful look... obviously you're not going to dig too deep... But even superficial thoughts — one was masturbating in the toilet, the other is upset because she's got her period...
"Why such nonsense?
"Nonsense? Don't say that... You know, pressing the right buttons at the right time means a lot. You snort, smile, and suddenly they're trying not to argue with you. Nothing specific, but just in case.
"Powerful," said the tenor admiringly, "oh, it's time for class!
"Go on, I'll skip it, I'm not in the mood.
The sound of quick footsteps, then a broken bass voice, invisible to Tom, clearly talking to himself:
"What a fool, he's in his senior year and still doesn't know these things! Legilimency is fine, but Occlumency! Every wizard should know how to protect their mind, how else can they survive?
Waiting for the invisible senior to leave, Tom climbed out of the niche and hurried to class. Being late for Binns is no big deal, but at least there he can write down the information he's learned...
Tom leaves and I remove my invisibility, breathing heavily and sinking to the floor. For two weeks (!) I had been hanging around Riddle, trying to get the senior students to him at the right time and in the right place... And how many "scripts" had been written to get those same senior students to say the right words — again, at the right time...
No, Imperius was detected by the headmaster "on the spot"; it was the finest work of the Master Mentalist — that is, me. The finest, because otherwise its echoes could have been detected by Dippet, who was amplified by Hogwarts. Therefore, it was a subtle game of associations, smells, and working with indirect "characters" who also participated in the Script without knowing it. A code word — and a first-year girl from Gryffindor runs up the stairs, humming a song... The prefect she encounters warns her sternly about the dangers of running on the castle stairs... And then two senior students turn off the path, afraid of being caught by the prefect, who is clearly in a bad mood, and strike up a conversation...
Complicated? In reality, it's much more complicated! More than thirty people were involved, and many roles were duplicated. Okay... I'll be honest — it was scary to take the first step (Mamba doesn't count, that's mostly just for fun!) in the Big Game, so I played it safe. Still, despite my rather turbulent past, I've never been an adrenaline junkie and have always gotten involved in adventures out of a sense of duty (first to the abstract Forces of Good from Dumbledore, then to my family), to help friends, and so on. It's scary, but it has to be done — so I gritted my teeth and pushed on... But if there was no need... well, screw it!
At breakfast (a stupid tradition!), a letter arrived from the agency — my books had "taken off" in the Muggle world. The income was still relatively small, but publishers in seven countries were already interested. Ha! We're alive!
"What's that?" asked Simon, an overly curious half-breed with whom I was on fairly good terms.
"Business," income and expenses...
"Isn't it too early?!" the boy blurted out.
"I'm not saying it's serious money. Just... my family is helping me out. If I lose it, it's no big deal, but at least I'll have some experience by the time I finish school. And I'll know whether this is for me or if I'd be better off doing something else.
"How much... well...
I'm just trying to get by... he's not good enough for Slytherin.
"The amount isn't important," I say dryly, "it's part of your education.
Well, yes, I'm lying... So what? I have a good relationship with Simon mainly because he's very easy to "get going", to push into some kind of action. To put it simply, I use the boy. No, it's not "mean and inhumane"; in return, I protect him and teach him manners... Believe me, it used to be worse — he's one of those boys who would later be called "hyperactive." In the world of wizards, this is treated or "bought off," whichever you prefer, but not completely, so describing him as a "thorn in the side" would be an understatement — he's more like a spit-roast. And yes, it's hard for him in Slytherin NOW, and it will be hard for him LATER, too. But if he ended up in Gryffindor... he would turn out to be an adventurous adrenaline junkie with dubious prospects. As it is, it's not great, but he'll turn out to be a decent member of society with connections — normal, in general.
He had to cut back on his animagi classes, as studying (or rather, sitting in lecture halls) and socialising (making contacts) and other things took up a lot of time, but he didn't give up. And then, shortly after Tom's "push" towards Occlumency and Legilimency, it happened.
My body is twisted in pain — the first transformations are always painful, then the energy adjusts. And... a squirrel, the most ordinary flying squirrel — I can see myself clearly in the mirror.
But — I see it, that's one thing, but I also feel like a squirrel with vague memories of once being a human... That's the danger of animagi, especially without a teacher to back you up...
I come to my senses, already human, and stretch out tiredly on the floor. There... the fact that I was once an animagus did help. Well, so I'm not a snake... a squirrel is no worse — let all the idiots look for their Second Forms in the form of lynxes, deer and wolves. They say you can fight in those forms! But they forget that even a trained Muggle can kill a deer by breaking its neck. And a squirrel... or a snake... they won't even notice. I prefer to fight in human form.
I didn't bother registering — there aren't many idiots like that, in fact, only those who managed to "give themselves away". But overall... I liked it. All the jumping around, the ability to climb to any height without fear of falling... I can't say "any height," but... I tried it, flying up to a height of three kilometres and turning around there. It was okay, I planned it well, although I was a little nervous... After all, the wind can be so strong at that height that you don't even need membranes. I don't know if a "normal" flyer could do it, but I have a combination of human intelligence and animal instincts...
But after my experience with the apparatus, which I set up just two hours after gaining my Second Form, it was time to beat myself up again.
"I'm such an idiot... no, really, how could I start an experiment without thinking it through?
I walked over to the cupboard and "butted" the door several times with my head. It cracked... My mouth twisted into a grimace...
"Well, judging by the experiment with height, the result was to be expected — I have a cast-iron head...
My self-criticism was justified, alas. I can apparate almost instantly, so I wasn't afraid. But to think what would have happened if the experiment had gone wrong and I had to apparate again, but while falling... I'm not yet so comfortable with my Second Form to dismount in it... That is, to change my flying form to human... and that's not instantaneous either... And then there's the thing about birds of prey. Experienced Animagi have artefacts that make them uninteresting to other animals, or they use mental techniques... I'm starting to realise how dangerous it was... There's about a 70% chance I would have died!
I sit down on the floor again — my legs won't hold me up. I realise that my recent risky behaviour is the result of the Turn, as animals often influence the human mind. True, it doesn't usually manifest itself so clearly, but anything can happen. Well, definitely, in the coming year, I will ONLY be in animal form in my room. Otherwise, I can imagine what I might do if I wander into the Forbidden Forest... Or decide to befriend some cute girl and get attached to a familiar... Phew...
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