#i guess you (merlin) would qualify this as a trick. me? i say this is a treat :]

[gible-love-nibles-archive]

trick or treat think about vampire cabanela for me ok :3

Only if you think about Werewolf Travis for me ok :3

[carpethefanfics]

Horcrux: The Beginning.

“I'm wondering if you would consider a Tom Riddle fic? Not a ship one- but his time at Hogwarts and throughout the creation of each Horcrux. Seeing the changes.”

To the lovely anon who requested the above, I liked your idea very much and as you might be able to tell by my other pieces getting into a character’s head is my fav. SO please stayed tuned as this is only a teaser for the things that will come.

[I took the speaking points from this scene in the movie btw.]

Enjoy.

He’s standing before Professor Slughorn

His suit is neatly pressed and his hair is combed back

Not a single strand out of place

Or button left dull

His appearance has been determined down to the finest of details

He had to ensure all went perfectly tonight

Because it’s the end of another year

And the end of another one of their evenings together

And he refuses to wait much longer

The whole Club had gathered around to hear the old man gloat about this student and that one

The ones that brought him immense pride

The ones that earned their places on his mantle

The ones that earned their places in history

And the other students listen with wide eyes and gaping mouths

Asking him countless questions about famed witches and wizards that he has taught

Their faces are derisive

Contemptuous even

Hoping to be one of his trophies like the puppets they are

Wishing to be another figure in the innumerable series of photographs and ticket stubs and newspaper clippings the man has on display 

Praying to be the one he will add to his collection

It is an endless talking point for Slughorn 

He will brag and boast and coerce for hours 

Especially tonight with the most talented of his current students gathered 

Assembled to ensure they knew exactly who to send their praises to when they find their success

When they make their fortunes 

When they have ensured their name will be stamped into history 

But Tom can see right through it all

The man has always been nothing but a collector

Not exceptionally talented in any particular way himself

But an excellent manipulator

He could at least respect that

Slughorn’s uncanny ability to trick children into idolizing him so they could make it on his cheap cabinet

Their wide twinkling eyes not even second guessing the sly way the words rolled off his tongue

Things like ‘exceptionally talented’

And ‘You remind of me of ...’

To build them up

To knock them back down

To make them think they needed his approval

But Tom knows

He can see past the façade

And he knows that what better way to get what he needs than to flip his game on his head

Make Slughorn chase him instead

Make him realize he will one day be seen as the invaluable asset he is

Someone who wizards and witches to come will know for generations

Will come to fear

Who will be written about for the rest of time

A necessity on his wall of photographs 

And the unbelievable feeling of power that courses through Tom, the strength the thought alone gives him is enough to keep the words that drawl from his mouth soft

They seem so nonchalant as they slip from his tongue

He’s sure that the charming venom will wrap itself tightly around Slughorn in no time

Even though he seems apprehensive at first

‘I’m not sure what you’re reading Tom but this is very dark stuff, very dark indeed’

Doing this is like breathing 

‘Which is … why I came to you.’

And it’s like he’s run his fingers over the exact right spot to make Slughorn unravel

Tom has always known how to talk to people

How to read the smallest flick of their gaze and twitch of their fingers

His professors call it charm

His friends flock to him as he speaks

A commanding presence that he is much too aware of 

But his ability to hit the sweet spots they need to hear to make them do as he wishes is positively irrefutable 

And just as he anticipates, Slughorn concedes 

His beady little eyes watching Tom as he glides towards him

His presence obviously putting Slughorn on edge

Because he’s flexing his hand around his glass and bulging his eyes and there’s the slightest tick in his left knee

A nervousness there

Masked by his need to please the young man delving into his mind

And he doesn’t even know thats why

‘A Horcrux is an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul’

Tom feigns his purpose of course

His voice sounding so child-like

Just simple curiosity

‘But I don’t understand how that works sir’

It’s another step in his plans

Men like Horace need to feel superior, more intelligent, more capable

Even though Tom knows they’re so incredibly weak

So incredibly defenseless to men like him who define themselves by their ability to wield power

Not by their cultivation of those who already have it

Slughorn is nothing more to him than a cog in his infinitely more complex machine

A cog who couldn’t possibly comprehend what he has planned for himself

What he has planned for the world

‘One splits oneself and hides part of it in an object. By doing so you are protected should you be attacked and your body destroyed’

Tom maintains his steady gaze

A doe eyed look on his face

His mouth straight

But the word that comes out is a little harsher than anticipated

A little more excited

And he knows Slughorn won’t notice

But he realizes the idea of wielding this power is overwhelming him

He rolls his head to the side to release the tension from his neck

His body does not want to wait

But his mind, oh his mind

It has calculated the oncoming events with great precision and he must remain in control

Especially now

‘Protected’?

Slughorn seems to choke on his drink at Tom’s question

A confusion for why Tom is pressing the matter

But he appeases him anyway

‘The part of your soul that is hidden lives on. In other words, you cannot die’

You cannot die

You cannot die

Tom is staring into the fireplace when the words fall from Slughorn’s lips

He feels like he’s absorbing them through his skin

He can feel the supremacy already

See what he will do in the flames licking the bricks

See what he could show those who dare question him

See what he will accomplish with his reign

But he needs more first he realizes

He’s so lost in his thought that the silence from Slughorn is deafening

‘And how does one split his soul sir?’

The question comes out gently

Much more gently than the last

His tongue is purposefully languid in his mouth

He needs to know

Needs it to be affirmed

His mind is telling him to remain collected

But his blood is pumping so loudly in his ears

This is the key

‘Think you already know the answer to that Tom’

The word leaves his lips so fast he’s sure that Slughorn has noticed by now

The man may be daft but he’s still quite qualified

Still intelligent enough

Just not enough to realize the full extent of his actions tonight

‘Murder’

It sounds so satisfying to say aloud

A word that has been stuck in his head for months finally confirmed 

Its so simplistic

All he has to do is rid the world, rid his world, of lives it will not need anyway

He can think of several just off the top of his head who don’t deserve a place in his empire

Who will serve no purpose

Who will only rebel against the inevitable

‘Yes, killing rips the soul apart, it is a violation against nature’

A violation against nature

Tom can feel the laughter in the pit of his stomach trying to force its way out

He remains calm, remains collected

We owe nature nothing he thinks

In the world he has envisioned he is nature

And the only violation is those who trust in love

Who allow themselves to be ruined by love

It is a wretched weakness

It brings the most powerful to their knees

He has seen it time and time again spreading like the disease it is

Crippling ones willpower 

Refuting ones self interest

Love never gave great witches and wizards what they sought

Only held them back from their true potential

‘Can you only split the soul once, for instance seven?’

The question has come and gone before Tom realizes he has gone too far

Allowed himself to lose too much control

‘Seven? Merlin’s beard Tom isn’t it bad enough to consider killing one person? To rip the soul into seven pieces. This is all hypothetical isn’t it Tom, all academic.’

Horace sounds completely horrified by his question

It’s almost like he’s been stunned as he sputters the words out

And that’s really all the affirmation Tom needs

He can accomplish his goal

A goal no other wizard has dared to even think about

But Tom, Tom isn't like other men and he knows this 

He has always known that his differences made him greater

This knowledge will allow him to become who he was always meant to be

He no longer needs the mind of Horace Slughorn

No longer needs the ancient, dusty books of wizards before him who only dreamt of such magical feats

‘Of course sir. It can be our little secret’

And it will be

Because by the time Tom has succeeded in this magic Horace will have forgotten this conversation

Or will be too ashamed of himself to delve into his memories to remember the information he gave the soon to be most powerful man the wizarding world has ever seen

And by then it won’t matter

Because tactless men like Horace Slughorn

Whose blood may be pure but whose souls are weighted down by love

Who will always succumb to their weaknesses

Have no place in a wizarding world ruled by Tom Marvolo Riddle

Ruled by a dark lord

The dark lord

Voldemort