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Hogwarts: Richie's Magic Research Diary
Hogwarts : Black family bloodline...
Hogwarts' Magical Food God
Hogwarts Animagus Chaos
Ravenclaw boys' dormitory.
"Levi, where the heck did you snag that game console? That's straight-up Muggle tech, right?"
"Heh heh, bet you didn't see that coming! Come on, hop in. Russell, you wanna try too?"
"Nah, Muggle junk's boring. I'm off to find someone for wizard's chess."
For the handful of students stuck at Hogwarts over the holidays, the break wasn't exactly magical. Bored out of their minds, they killed time with whatever little distractions they could find.
None of them noticed the dark shadow slipping past the door like smoke.
It moved fast. Levi thought he caught a flicker from the corner of his eye, but when he looked up—nothing. He shrugged and went back to Street Fighter I.
"I'm totally finding a girlfriend who looks like Chun-Li one day! Those legs are killer!"
"Dude, I'm going for Mai Shiranui. She's got the whole package!"
A few doors down, in the dead of night, the shadow quietly slid under Tom's covers.
She saw his lashes twitch, but he didn't wake. So she wriggled closer.
Tomorrow she was absolutely telling Misha about this.
She couldn't wait to see that mix of hate, envy, and helpless rage on Misha's face.
Love it when you glare at me like that but can't do a damn thing about it!
The warmth against her back felt perfect. Tom always carried this faint, clean scent—like fresh herbs and something sweet. Breathing it in was better than any high.
Her eyelids grew heavier… and she drifted off.
When the shadow opened her eyes again, the dorm was empty.
Tom was gone.
The sky outside was still pitch black. She slipped out of bed, pulled back the curtain—no moon in sight.
Tap.
Footsteps behind her.
She spun around.
A hideously ugly wizard stood there.
No nose. Bald. His whole body gave off a sickly greenish glow.
"Who are you?" The shadow backed up until she hit the wall, eyes locked on him.
She was extremely sensitive to magic. One look into someone's eyes and she could tell exactly how deep they'd gone into the Dark Arts.
Before tonight, Professor Snape had been the strongest Dark wizard she'd ever met.
This guy? Miles above him.
And the cold disregard for life radiating off him made her skin crawl.
She narrowed her eyes. "If you don't leave right now, I'm calling for help."
"You can try, little shadow," the noseless monster chuckled. His laugh was just as repulsive—pure condescension. "Or should I call you Misha?"
"My name is Isabelle."
"Heh." He sneered. "Too scared to face your own past? Typical for a baby Dark creature who just learned a few spells."
"Anyway, I suppose I should introduce myself—"
"No need, Voldemort," the shadow cut in, fists clenched.
It wasn't hard to guess.
Immense Dark magic, ice-cold heart, countless murders… only one person fit.
The Dark Lord. Voldemort.
The monster without a nose.
"So you've heard of me."
The shadow scoffed. "If you mean the part where the great Voldemort spends his time bullying little kids like Harry Potter, yeah, I've heard plenty. Honestly, if I were you I'd be embarrassed."
She tilted her head, eyes full of contempt. "A centuries-old has-been picking on an eleven-year-old? Don't you have any shame at all?"
"Who gave you permission to speak to me like that?" Voldemort raised his wand.
"Go on then. Kill me. Prove you're a pathetic waste of space." She spat on the floor. "A full-grown Dark Lord needs a wand to deal with a kid? Laughable."
Voldemort's veins bulged on his forehead, but he kept his voice cold. "You don't seem afraid of me."
"Why would I be? I'm a creature born from Dark magic. Death doesn't scare me." She pointed at her own chest. "The real difference between us? I have friends. I have someone I love. You? You have nothing."
She smirked. "You die, and every Death Eater scatters like rats. Everyone's just waiting for Harry to grow up and finish you off. Me? I'm not like those idiots."
"I know someone else will kill you long before Harry ever has to."
She didn't say the name.
But she wasn't afraid.
Because Tom would handle it.
If she died, she'd just wait for Voldemort in the afterlife. She figured he'd be down there with her in a few years tops.
Voldemort's breath hissed through the slits where his nose should be. "Sharp tongue. Shadow, I'll ask you once—will you come with me?"
"A creature of Dark magic has no future at Hogwarts. Leave with me and I'll give you everything—power, respect, anything you desire. You have rare talent. One day the whole world will bow to you."
The shadow stayed silent.
She hated being forced.
Besides, she didn't want much.
She only wanted Tom.
Even if he married someone else, she'd still want him.
Following Voldemort? That would mean locking Tom away like some prize. That wasn't her.
"You can leave now. Or… you're probably just going to kill me, right?"
She spread her arms wide. "Go ahead, mister. Don't hold back. I'd love to see how strong the famous Dark Lord really is."
"You'll regret this!"
"Regret following you? Never. If you're not going to move, I will."
She clenched her fists.
She didn't think she could win against the strongest Dark wizard alive.
But if she could even scratch him—just leave one tiny mark—people would talk about it for years.
"You're right. I should kill you."
But that wasn't going to happen.
Voldemort took a slow step back… then suddenly raised his wand.
"Legilimens!"
"I want to see what secrets you're hiding!"
He roared, angrier than he'd been in years.
No one had ever dared speak to him like that. Not even Dumbledore!
Everyone whispered his name in fear. Most wouldn't say it at all.
And now this… this thing—barely a month old—had the nerve to insult him to his face!
He was going to rip every memory out of her skull.
"Mr. Riddle, using Legilimens on a little girl? You really have changed—"
A heavy sigh filled the room.
A tall figure in white robes stepped between them.
The Legilimens spell slammed into the old wizard and dissolved like mist.
It had no effect.
Voldemort stared, stunned.
He would never forget that face.
The long white beard. The silver hair curling down his back.
Those calm, piercing eyes that made fear coil in his chest.
"Dumbledore."
Voldemort hissed the name.
The greatest white wizard in history.
Headmaster of Hogwarts. Albus Dumbledore.
Dumbledore sighed softly. "My boy… I never imagined you would become this. Or perhaps the signs were always there. It's just… hard to accept."
"You were once a prefect. The pride of Slytherin. Every student looked up to you. The girls would light up just from saying hello to you."
"But you changed beyond anything we expected. Maybe… maybe this was always who you were."
"How dare you lecture me, Dumbledore? Don't pretend you had no part in what I became!"
Dumbledore said nothing. He simply looked at Voldemort with that same gentle, pitying gaze—the one that always made him furious.
But against this man, Voldemort was helpless.
"Dumbledore, one day I will kill you. I will burn your precious Hogwarts to the ground. And your favorite little hero, Harry Potter? He'll be just another corpse at my feet."
"You're welcome to try," Dumbledore replied calmly. "I never taught you to drag children into dreams and steal their memories with cheap tricks."
He smiled. "Since we're here, I assume your real body—Professor Quirrell—is nearby? Care to guess how many professors are already looking for you?"
Voldemort's eyes widened.
Something about Dumbledore tonight felt… different.
There was a quiet, unshakable power around him.
He had always been strong—but this was something more.
His eyes seemed to see everything. Voldemort couldn't read him at all.
And yet… he could tell the old man wasn't afraid.
He almost looked like he was looking forward to whatever came next.
"Hmph. Next time we meet, you won't be so lucky, Dumbledore."
"I'll be waiting."
The dream dissolved.
Stars appeared in the black sky outside. Soft moonlight spilled into the room, lighting up the shadow's face and Dumbledore's straight, elderly back.
The shadow grabbed "Dumbledore's" arm.
"Miss Isabelle, this is a little inappropriate, don't you think?"
"Still pretending?"
"…"
"Tom, your disguise is amazing. You look exactly like Professor Dumbledore."
Tom coughed. "How'd you know it was me?"
"Smell." She tapped her nose. "Vol—"
He clapped a hand over her mouth before she could finish. "Don't say his name. It's not fear—it's a curse he put on it. Just call him You-Know-Who."
She nodded. He let go.
"So You-Know-Who used to be a Hogwarts student?"
"Of course."
"Then his relationship with the professors must've been terrible. At least he never paid close enough attention. Tom, didn't you notice? Professor Dumbledore smells like osmanthus flowers, not roses."
She grinned. "And his left eye is single-lidded, right eye double-lidded."
Tom: "??"
You can tell single vs. double eyelids just like that?
Damn, you're good.
He dropped the disguise, turning back into himself. "It was just a quick imitation. Works fine in a dream. In the real world I wouldn't slip up."
Polyjuice really was too convenient. That's why he always kept some on him.
He'd noticed the second Voldemort pulled the shadow into the dream.
Tom was extra sensitive about stuff like this—especially at night. He slept with one eye half-open these days.
"I still have one question," the shadow said. "Why did you call him 'Mr. Riddle'? And why didn't you face him as yourself?"
The pieces clicked.
Riddle.
Why hadn't Tom shown his real face?
It wasn't fear.
"Having the same last name as a mass murderer is kind of annoying," Tom sighed. "But keep it quiet. Almost no one knows the noseless freak's real name."
"Don't worry. At Hogwarts, the two of us are already under constant watch. Everyone's suspicious of us."
"You're special—a magical construct that's never existed before."
"And me? I share a name with a serial killer."
The shadow covered her mouth and nodded hard. "Our secret?"
"Yes. Don't tell anyone."
"Not even Misha!"
Tom nodded, satisfied, and looked out the window.
Voldemort was probably running for his life right now.
Good thing he'd prepared ahead of time and set off a little—
BOOM!
Professor Snape slammed the door open, panting, eyes bloodshot.
The dark circles under his eyes were so bad that even Asian makeup magic couldn't fix them.
You'd need two layers of spackle.
"Tom! Couldn't you have used a quieter signal?!"
"Why did you set off fireworks big enough to wake the entire castle?!"
Tom looked genuinely apologetic. "Weren't they pretty, though?"
"Every student is awake! Mr. Filch is running around like a madman trying to herd them back to bed!" Snape's voice dropped. "So—where's You-Know-Who?"
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