No one is more dangerous than he who imagines himself pure in heart: for his purity, by definition, is unassailable.

James Baldwin

Nobody Knows My Name (1961)

Dusk was falling. From this high up in Ravenclaw tower you could just make out the tall goal posts on the outermost edge of the Quidditch Pitch, already partially concealed by darkness. It was the School holidays, and most students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had gone home to be with their families. Sadly, I wasn't so fortunate. With no family in the past who I could stay with I was left to suffer in the presence of my arch enemy Tom Riddle, helplessly wishing I was anywhere but here.

The wind howled as it battered the windows, the faint keening sound it made was an eerie lament that echoed across the grounds. My eyes watered as I looked down at the last light of the sunset deflecting off the top of the glass greenhouses bordering the castle and I blinked, turning away. As I sat in silence I contemplated what I should do.

What could I do?

Alone and confined to a room in Ravenclaw tower, I was trapped and scared for my life. Tom Riddle had executed his scheme perfectly - so far the initiation ceremony in the Forbidden Forest was complete. I had been the central piece to a very ancient dark ritual which involved me losing my heart to the darkness. I had no idea what this ceremony entailed. I was constantly kept in the dark. Tom wanted me to transition into one of his Death Eaters, and didn't want me to know what he was going to do, or when he was going to do it. He wanted me all for himself.

Even now as I was thinking over his plan for what felt like the millionth time - it was easy to see that every tiny detail had been thought out rather meticulously. If I was cut off from the rest of the School in this tower room, how would I escape?

I suppose I could smash a window and summon a broomstick, but who knows how Tom would retaliate. It wasn't as if I was born with any ability to stay airborne either and on top of that I wasn't certain what enchantments were securing the premises. I was truly isolated here. The irony was, for my own safety and wellbeing, I had to bite the bullet and stay put.

And that is what Tom Riddle wants.

I walked away from the window sitting down on the soft bed gingerly. My arm was still broken, every now and then sharp stabbing pains would shoot through my nerves rendering me breathless. I had been strictly forbidden to heal myself and it was beyond hellish to deal with the agony. Nothing was fine.

"If I come back and find that you have mended your arm, I will not only break the other arm," Tom had told me, eyes shining maliciously, "But I will break your legs too."

And just like that, he had disappeared like a shadow out of the door, the lock closing behind him before I even had a chance to do anything about it. I didn't have to get up and rush to the door to know it was sealed off with unimpenetrable Magic. The truly striking thing about Tom Riddle was that he was an exceptionally powerful dark wizard who had accumulated a wealth of knowledge beyond his years. Highly academic, he was a lot like me in the way that he had read numerous books on Magical practice and theory. Knowing this made me even more scared about being his prisoner. He wasn't stupid, he was methodical and evil. And patient.

Time moved ahead sluggishly. I sat there on a single armchair in the same spot I had frequented for two days. My legs dangled off the side as I stared out into the glow of the sunset through the window. I knew that it was pointless to escape my twisted enemy this time. He had finally got me, and if I decided to play my cards now the consequences would be dire. My health was too diminished to act. For now at least, I would feign weakness to conceal what strength I had. As intelligent as Tom Riddle was, there was a chance he had not read the ancient military treatise The Art Of War by Sun Tzu. I had found it on the bookshelf in my family home when I was sixteen. What were the odds that Tom knew military strategies? Did he ever consider needing to use them, or was he too overconfident that he had crushed his enemy?

Feign weakness, so that your opponent may grow arrogant.

Tom was already arrogant, though. And I was weaker than normal, too weak to do anything at all. That didn't exactly leave me with the advantage.

Of course not. I thought. Tom Riddle is an overglorified, narcissistic strategist gifted enough to find ways through anything. Even if his methods were morally corrupt.

I was cunning, but I had a heart. I would just have to find a different way of succeeding.

I stood up slowly. I had been alternating between different books, my hands hurt from being curled around spines of books and pages of parchment all day. I walked over to the soft blankets of the bed, and being mindful of my arm, I sat down. Laying back onto the mattress I stared up at the ceiling. It wouldn't be too long now until Tom returned.

What if everything was already lost? Did Tom already win everything, and I hadn't noticed?

The silver and bronze hangings on the posters of the bed darkened as the sun became concealed by clouds. The day was nearly over. I had spent hours in this room going absolutely insane - and Tom was still nowhere to be seen. The sun had barely risen when he had disappeared off into the castle grounds this morning and had left me barricaded from the world, concealed behind a magically fortified door and single window.

To reinstill my fear to prevent me from escaping he had made sure to share in unnecessary detail a visual montage of physically and sexually abusive things he would do to me if I was bold enough to escape. One of the runes in the ceremony involved in the initiation ceremony involved a strength draining Infirmi rune, a Rune I had encountered scrawled into the page of a hideous leather bound book from a drawer in Tom's bedroom. It certainly didn't help that I had spent most of my efforts panicking and overthinking. Now hungry as well, my energy was ebbing away faster than ever.

I reached over to the dresser on my right, taking my beaded bag with my good arm. Within was my Time Turner, I took it out and placed it carefully in my lap. Engraved in gold on the back were words.

I mark the hours, every one, nor have I yet outrun the Sun. My use and value, unto you, are gauged by what you have to do.

I paused for a moment.

...by what you have to do.

Reading the last part made me sick to my stomach. I had a LOT to do before I could go back to the future to my home. The constant reminder that the wizarding world was hanging in the balance and could be thrown into despair if I did one tiny thing wrong here in the past wasn't reassuring in the slightest. I turned the weighted golden device in my hands, once again reading the words that I knew so well carefully inscribed into the gold. As I did so I was briefly reminded of Professor McGonagall dutifully writing several letters to the Ministry of Magic, pressing them on my behalf in the hopes I could attend multiple classes in my third year. It seemed like so long ago now. I put my bag down on the ground beside the bed, curled up on the bed and closed my eyes. I had almost drifted out of consciousness when the door opened, and a tall dark figure entered the room.

At first I thought I was having a nightmare. Only when those dark eyes locked onto mine, and my breathing became ragged in my own ears was I finally forced to come to terms with my reality. He was certainly in my reality - I was just trapped in a waking nightmare.

Tom Riddle was very tall. Standing there in silence he took up a considerable portion of the doorway. Without saying a single word, we both observed one another. Tom's pale face was flushed as if he had been out in the cold for most of the day. Seeing me, he looked amused, the edges of his mouth curled at the sight of me laying paralyzed on the bed panicked at the sight of him. I sat up at once, spitting hair out of my face. As if to protect myself I grabbed the closest thing to me on the bed which just so happened to be A History Of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot. While Tom was distracted eyeing what book I was reading I snatched up my Time Turner, tucking it inconspicuously into my right hand sleeve.

"You could exhaust the contents of that book and not find a single thing that would help you in this situation." Tom said. He entered the room with a derisive smile and the door closed behind him with a resounding locking sound.

Trapped again.

"I know that nothing in that book would help me." I said, willing myself to sound calm. "I wasn't trying to get away from you."

I wasn't exactly lying. I wasn't trying to get away from him at that exact moment.

"You're not trying to leave?" Tom's tone was coldly surprised. "You want to submit to me of your own accord? How unusual. So then... You must have had a change of heart. The ancient rite must be working."

Straightening up, he looked me directly in the eye. His tall figure was imposing and as he approached I realised he was already far too close for comfort. I took a step back, but he only drew nearer. He was standing so close, barely an arms length away. My heart started hammering in my chest and I bit my lip, fighting the urge to run screaming in the opposite direction. Tom's cold fingers lifted my chin, and he stared me directly in the eyes.

"I lied about the initiation ceremony. I said it was over. It isn't. Not just yet. " Tom adjusted his tie, pale hands working to adjust the knot at his throat, "The last part of the initiation only lasts three days. The magic I cast needs time to solidify, to begin to rewire certain aspects of your mind. There will not be spectators this time, it will be a private ceremony held in a room in the Slytherin dungeons."

"Hang on." I said, the bigger picture dawning on me slowly. "What does that mean? What will happen to me?"

I remembered the traumatising process of losing my memories, and being confined in a room alone with Tom and his friends. I remembered the assault and felt a sudden stabbing fear. My heart rate increased. Tom watched my reaction closely but his expression remained completely neutral.

"You don't need to know what is going to happen." He said decidedly.

I didn't know what was worse. His uncaring attitude about the entire thing or his dismissiveness about my feelings.

"The last thing the Runes need is stress." He said seriously. "That means that it is important that you are calm."

"The last thing the Runes need?!" I exploded. "What?"

"Granted the circumstances you have been quite calm throughout this... procedure. And complacent. You haven't even attempted to escape today despite it being hours since I've left you. I've been gone an entire day. I don't think you realise how great of an effect the Dark Magic is having on you."

"How did you know I didn't try and escape?" I wondered out loud. "You weren't even here."

"I see everything." Tom said coldly. "Never assume that you are alone. I have eyes everywhere."

"Stalker." I said bitterly. "So do you watch me get dressed too?"

The silence that followed was tense. I knew what was coming but I didn't want to hear it.

"What do you think?" Tom said. "It's hard to take my eyes off you."

"Stop, alright? You can't just turn me into some sort of secret pet and then tell me you're in love with me. I won't believe you."

"Secret pet? Is that what you'd consider yourself?"

Tom took a single strand of my hair and tucked it behind my ear. His touch was cold, it felt odd and not comforting at all.

"Somehow, I feel like I need to protect you. From yourself." Tom mused. "I've always had an eye for the unusual and the outliers in every equation."

"Keep talking and I'm going to have to start looking for an escape." I eyed the window with consideration. Perhaps I didn't know how to use a broomstick but I sure wouldn't mind a good free fall right now.

"I'm afraid that's not possible." Tom said. "You're not going to be leaving this room at all. And it doesn't matter what I say at this point, you will only be able to escape this room out through me which is never going to happen. Now, there is something I need you to do for me. Comply. The Runes I used to weaken you need to be reinforced every sunset."

"What Runes? And how long do I need to stay here?" I said quickly, hoping I had heard him wrong.

"However long it takes." Tom said shortly, only answering part of my question. His expression remained blank and yet his eyes were sharp as they studied me. He wasn't giving anything away and it frustrated me.

"How will you know once it's done? How will I know?"

"Oh, you will know." Was all Tom said.

"That's not the answer I was looking for." I said, a little strongly this time. "And tell me why I should trust you?"

"Trusting me? I don't remember telling you that I require your trust in the matter." Tom's tone was cold, but his eyes were appraising as they met mine. "Every sunset, all I will need is your cooperation."

Your cooperation.

"Every sunset." I repeated. "But that's now."

"Why do you think I'm here? For the stimulating conversation?" Tom said easily, but the fear that sparked inside me at his words disappated the somewhat lax atmosphere.

What on earth would I need to cooperate with Tom Riddle for?

Off the top of my head, I was struggling to remember what sort of Runes used human blood. None that I knew. At least not in the fields of Magic I was schooled in. Tom Riddle was deranged, psychologically twisted. I didn't know half the things he knew.

"You're doing it again." I looked up at Tom to see him already staring at me with that fathomlessly dark gaze. "You do that often. Stare into space. What are you thinking about?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Could you chance a guess?"

Tom, a highly accomplished Legilimens, looked me dead in the eyes. "No." He said shortly. "I can't."

Those dark eyes were boring into my own, intently watching me. He was probably reading my damned mind right this second, the bastard.

"I know you're upset with me. After all, I haven't been too kind to you lately, and I regret that. Hopefully, you will begin to realise that if you obey me, you will earn back certain privileges."

"I'm not going to beg on my hands and knees for my basic human rights." I snapped. "Being able to eat isn't something that I feel I need to earn."

"Certain branches of Dark Magic require a weakened host." Tom explained. "I have already told you that this ceremony utilises ancient Magic."

"Great." I said bitterly. "So I'm going to starve."

"You're being dramatic. I'll summon a House Elf up with food later on."

I didn't reply. Tom wanted me weak and complacent, did he? I thought briefly of the poor House Elf that Tom Riddle was forcing to do his bidding, and secretly hoped I could instruct it to pass a message to the staff. Or would Tom have already advised it to not listen to anything I told it? Would Tom still be in the room then?

"Staring off into the distance as if you're dreaming about being somewhere far away from is a wonderful fantasy. Unrealistic, and will not happen, but fantastic nonetheless. Now, if this ceremony goes according to my plan, you will never leave my side."

"What a delight." I said sarcastically. "Who on earth wouldn't want to throw away their entire lives for you?"

I might as well have said nothing.

"We are running out of time." Tom said, producing his wand with a flourish of his wrist. "This won't take long, and it will all be over quickly."

He held out his hand for mine, but I hesitated.

"Give me your wrist." He demanded.

"Why does it have to be my wrist?"

I could feel my wand within my cloak pocket and had half a mind to hex Tom right there and then.

If you give him your wrist, he'll break it.

I was used to all sorts of drastic thoughts concerning Tom that I would've believed it, had Tom not given me a small smile.

"You're thinking that I'm going to hurt you. I'm not. Well, not if you be a good girl and obey me."

I shifted uncomfortably. Tom was much too close, and he was going to casually brand me with a Rune right here, right now. I didn't make any inclination to give him my wrist. I didn't need to.

I knew Tom's infamous lack of patience would get the better of him, and sure enough he jerked forward and snatched up my wrist in his cold hand. I pulled alway, but he pulled me closer to him on the bed. My heart was pounding, for a second I completely forgot what he was going to do. It felt so disgusting being so close to my enemy.

"This part of the initiation ensures the Magic I used on you will set." He told me. Pinning my wrist down to the bed he traced a Rune onto my skin. I clenched my teeth as a burning sensation trickled across my skin across the contact points of Tom's wand.

"See? It wasn't that hard." Tom released me and I yanked my arm back, peering down at my skin intently.

"You never told me what that Rune does." My pale skin was slightly red, but otherwise unscathed.

"That Rune keeps you weak and beneath my control." Tom told me after a pause. "I need you to not be as resistant as you usually are. I might need to use you for certain... things."

His eyes scanned me shamelessly and

I paled, suddenly thinking of all the different ways I could now be taken advantage of.

"I've never heard of that sort of Magic before. You've just made that up on the spot." I accused. In the pocket of my cloak I clenched my wand tighter in my hand. "Tell me what that was really about."

"No. I'm not required to tell you anything. I have already told you what I want you to know." Tom said calmly. "Now, how about you stop protesting. There is another thing I want to do."

"And what could that possibly be?" I said scathingly.

"I'm going to create an incision in your arm." Tom said, after a pause. "In order for this Rune to activate, I need two things. Your cooperation, and your blood."

I looked up, craning my neck to stare Tom Riddle directly in the eye. He looked as impassive as ever, but there was that notorious manic glint in his eye which terrified me.

"No." I said, very carefully thinking about my words. "I think you need to revise your methods. I've never heard of anyone needing fresh blood for a mere Rune before."

"Because we all know you as a master of Runology." Tom scoffed. "There is far more to the ancient Hieroglyphs than your beloved Muggle Egyptians ever knew. There are more potent darker Runes than many of you are even aware of. So much knowledge, shrouded in mystery, gone to waste."

"That knowledge has been passed down generations." I pointed out. "The Egyptians used that as their formal writing system, they shared a lot of the information they gathered and they passed it down."

Maybe I could buy myself more time by veering us way off topic.