Tag Yourself, Im Mcgonagall.

tag yourself, i’m mcgonagall.

"A Forgetfulness Potion — can't be that hard, can it?" asked Eustace Mulciber. It was the last ten minutes of class, and as always, the idiot was far behind everyone else. "I'm always forgetting things in this class."

Thaddeus Nott snorted.

"Can't you be quiet?" asked Minerva irritably. "I'm trying to concentrate."

Though Tom was loath to admit it, he had to agree with her. Mulciber and Nott erupted into a fit of laughter — Tom heard a whispered "What if we put this in?" — and then, the cauldron exploded with a deafening boom, sending sharp bits of pewter flying in every direction. Tom ducked quickly under the table, but Minerva hadn't been so lucky, and one of the shards had hit her cheek.

There was a lot of blood — Tom hated the look of so much blood, it made his head spin — and all of a sudden, Slughorn was rushing over.

"What happened here?" he asked, looking between the four of them.

Minerva began to cry, and Tom winced. Must she be so shrill?

"They were mucking around with the potion, Professor!" Minerva shrieked, cupping her cheek with the handkerchief Slughorn had given her. "You're wicked, Mulciber! You evil, slimy little—"

"We didn't!" said Nott. "Honest, Professor Slughorn!"

How can I possibly benefit from this?

How can I show Slughorn that I'm better than Mulciber and Nott?

"Mulciber and Nott deliberately wrecked their potion, sir," Tom explained, pointing to the pewter shards and black puddles of ruined potion strewn on the floor. "It made the cauldron explode and Minerva got hit with one of the shards."

"I'll take Minerva to the Hospital Wing, sir," he offered gallantly in response to Slughorn's concerned expression. "My potion's finished."

Slughorn seemed pleasantly surprised. "And so it is, m'boy. Good of you to offer — come now, Minerva, Tom will take you to see Madam Gale."

Excerpt from Chapter 9, which will be up on either Saturday or Sunday. Read from the beginning at FFN | AO3!

“no, sir. nothing.”

"Fawkes, like all phoenixes, is immortal," Dumbledore explained. "Every so often, he burns, and is reborn from the ashes."

Immortal? So there really is such a thing?

As if Dumbledore had sensed Tom's curiosity, he held a hand up to dissuade further questions.

"But that is not why I have asked you to come see me, Tom," he said. "You wish, I believe, to know about your father?"

"Yes," breathed Tom, leaning forward excitedly. Has he found something?

"I began teaching at Hogwarts in 1912," said Dumbledore, staring intently at Tom. "I cannot recall ever teaching another Tom Riddle, and I believe I would have had such a thing occurred."

"I take after my father, sir," said Tom, in a desperate attempt to jog his memory. "Mrs. Cole said so."

"Yes, I remember," said Dumbledore seriously. "I say this not to discourage you, Tom. It is quite possible that your father was older when he had you, or that he simply never attended Hogwarts. However, it is also possible that your father was not a wizard at all, and if so, I do not want you to feel disappointed. There is no shame in being Muggle-born — my mother was, in fact."

"I understand, sir," said Tom, though he thought privately that either Dumbledore didn't know what people really said about Muggle-borns, or he didn't care.

“I will ask you this once, Tom. Is there anything transpiring with your housemates that I should know about? Think carefully, before you answer."

Tom shifted under the intensity of Dumbledore's gaze, his hand going instinctively to cover his wrist, lest the scars peeked out from under his sleeve.

"No, nothing, sir," said Tom. The other boys wouldn't appreciate him being a grass, and if Dumbledore cared enough to do anything about it, they'd punish him again — perhaps carve 'Mudblood' on his forehead so that everyone could see.

Besides, he wasn't going to cower for much longer, once he found who they were. He'd push back. Fight.

In his mind's eye, Tom saw Billy's rabbit, dangling from a rope and slowly spinning in the morning light.

Yes, their time would come; slowly, but surely.

"I think it would be best if we continued these conversations, Tom," said Dumbledore. "If that is all, I will let you go now... Unless you have anything to tell me?"

"No, sir," said Tom, getting up from his chair. "Goodnight, Professor Dumbledore."

Why did Dumbledore call Tom into his office? What scars is he so concerned about hiding?

Chapter 9 up on Saturday? Sunday? @  FFN | AO3!

right, I had a go:

*based off of ginny’s valentine*

his temper is prone to implode

his heart is totally cold

i wish he was mine, he’s really divine

the villain who felt threatened by a one-year-old

what are some love poems bellatrix would write to show her love to voldemort? (please make it funny)

Chapter Eleven: The Ouroboros

"I do hope you're enjoying yourselves," said Slughorn, smiling evenly. If he noticed their obvious discomfort, he gave no indication. "I see Tom has finally found you. By the way, Tom — excellent work on your essay, I've just graded it — truly impressive, the attention to detail."

"Thank you, Professor Slughorn," said Tom with a small smile.

"Kiss-arse," muttered Minerva.

Tom glared at her. "Know-it-all."

"I haven't gotten to yours, yet," said Slughorn, nodding at Minerva. "But I believe I will also be impressed." He sighed. "Sadly, I cannot say the same for... certain others..."

"Nott and Mulciber?" asked Minerva, without missing a beat. "I'd be surprised if they had the attention span to write three inches' worth of anything."

Tom Riddle turns to revenge (ahem, shameless thrill-seeking) as he searches for the identity of his three attackers. All that he has to go on is a golden unicorn, a birthmark, and a ring in the shape of an ouroboros.

Fortunately for Tom, the Hogwarts library is open... but what else might he discover? With the (unwitting) help of Horace Slughorn, along with some pickpocketing and general scheming, it seems that revenge may be in sight...

Warnings: Without giving too much away, I’m going to borrow the AO3 tag. Tom Riddle is his own warning. Featuring a very pissed-off kid!Riddle at his pettiest and most vindictive. You’ve been warned.

Read from the beginning at FFN | AO3!

Chapter Ten: The Pawn’s Gambit

Alastair shrugged.

He seemed genuine enough. But Harry didn't think he was the right person to tell about the shadows.

What had he done, that night? Had the shadows risen from his fingertips to wrap around Voldemort's throat, choking the life out of him?

And if he had the power to defeat Voldemort, why hadn't he done so before that monster killed his parents?

"I'm probably a bit of a disappointment, then," said Harry, glaring at all of them. "I'm nothing like Voldemort. I don't want to be anything like him. And maybe if you lot took your heads out of the sand for even a second, you'd see that the last thing I'd want is to be like the bastard who killed my parents."

Something isn’t adding up with the Potters’ story. Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall investigate.

Meanwhile, Harry meets the Slytherins.

Read from the beginning at FFN | AO3!

𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐒, a riddle era fanfiction

“we were young and cruel and we wanted to be endless” — the knights of walpurgis

title: knights of walpurgis series

genre: almost an au, prequel. dark coming of age. almost romance focused

rated: mature

general warnings: violence, toxic relationships, emotional manipulation, more tw will be included if need be

plot: the lives of tom riddle’s knights of walpurgis before they become the death eaters. the first act ( songbirds and serpents) follows their fifth year at hogwarts, the year of the opening of the secret chamber, and aurora crawford and tom riddle’s convoluted start of even more complicated relationship.

where to find me: littlesong_bird on wattpad, mightingquills on tiktok and ao3