A frigid wind howled, coating the trees in glistening icicles. Hogwarts was a vision in white after the heavy snowfall, sunlight reflecting dazzlingly off the fresh blanket.
Inside the library, Harry, buried in a thick jacket, flipped through books with little enthusiasm. Christmas was looming, and his friends had deserted him for their families. He could have spent the holiday with Tom Riddle, but the man was occupied with… former subordinates, apparently. Left to choose between the Dursleys and a solitary Hogwarts Christmas, Harry considered digging for information on Fluffy's treasure.
"Ugh, I can't read anymore! Who could ever finish all these books?" Harry slammed the tome shut, slumping in his chair.
"Ahem…"
Harry looked up, spotting Madam Pince glaring at him.
"Oh, sorry…" Aware that he'd been too loud, Harry clapped a hand over his mouth.
Madam Pince returned to her duties.
Harry glanced back at the books, realizing his quest was hopeless. With this in mind, having successfully found an excuse, he got up and walked towards the library door.
Outside, Hagrid was dragging a small fir tree, leaving a trail in the snow.
"Hello, Hagrid, what are you doing?" After their last meeting, Harry considered Hagrid a good sort, if a bit overzealous.
"Ah, Harry! Gettin' ready for Christmas." Hagrid winked. "Care to lend a hand?"
"Oh, of course! That sounds like fun." Harry eagerly followed Hagrid. Maybe he wouldn't be alone for Christmas after all.
…
King's Cross Station, Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
Toot-toot…
The train pulled into the station. Anxious families strained to catch the first glimpse of their children.
Tom Riddle, Cassandra Vole, and Hermione Granger stepped off the train, chatting as they disembarked.
"Oh, darling, how was Hogwarts?"
A middle-aged couple approached, beaming. The man, with his blond hair and impeccable suit, looked every bit the successful businessman. The woman, brown-haired and casually dressed, radiated warmth.
"Dad! Mom!" Hermione flung herself into her parents' arms.
After a flurry of hugs, their attention turned to Tom Riddle and Cassandra Vole.
Mr. Granger asked, "And these two are…?"
Hermione gestured to Cassandra Vole. "This is my friend, Cassandra Vole. She also goes to Hogwarts—she's a real lady."
Cassandra Vole offered a curt nod.
Mrs. Granger sighed inwardly. Children these days are really hard to get along with.
"And this is Professor Tom Riddle from Hogwarts. He's been a great help to me at school."
Tom Riddle nodded coolly.
Actually, he just felt like mirroring Cassandra Vole's aloofness for his amusement.
Despite Tom Riddle's unapproachability, Mr. Granger extended a hand. "Professor, thank you for looking after Hermione."
Although Tom Riddle had little regard for social conventions, he understood etiquette, so he shook the man's hand.
Mr. Granger visibly relaxed. "Well, darling, let's head home."
Hermione nodded, then looked at Tom Riddle hopefully. "Professor, would you like to come to our house for Christmas?"
Mr. Granger felt a chill run down his spine.
No, this isn't right! he thought. Could it be? Impossible! My little girl is not ready!
Mr. Granger broke out in a cold sweat, seized by panic.
"I am afraid I have too many obligations to attend to over the holiday," Tom Riddle replied, patting Hermione Granger on the head.
"Okay." Hermione Granger looked crestfallen.
Mrs. Granger noticed, realizing the professor wasn't interested in that way, but… he was so young, and handsome…
She understood her daughter's feelings but thought she'd address the matter with her daughter later.
"Alright, alright, let's hurry up and go. We have much to do."
Mr. Granger urged her onward, and Hermione Granger reluctantly walked away, glancing back repeatedly.
As the Granger family disappeared through the barrier, Tom Riddle took Cassandra Vole's hand. "We should be going as well."
Space twisted, and they vanished.
…
The Vole family manor.
A group of black-robed figures stood rigidly at the entrance to the manor. Among them was Lucius Malfoy.
Leading the assembly was Frederick Vole.
Space warped, and Tom Riddle appeared with Cassandra Vole.
The black-robed figures immediately knelt, chanting in unison, "Master!!!"
The Death Eaters.
Tom Riddle ignored them, turning to Frederick Vole. "Anyone else refusing to come?"
"A few more..." Frederick Vole trailed off, leaving the statement incomplete and yet somehow comprehensive.
"Then let them hide," Tom Riddle said calmly.
The Death Eaters felt their Dark Marks burn.
Pulling back their sleeves, they saw the mark had changed—the black snake emerging from the skull was now a vibrant green serpent coiled around the Elder Wand.
Confused, the Death Eaters dared not question the Dark Lord.
"Rise." Tom Riddle's word signified his acceptance; they were his henchmen now.
Indeed, Tom Riddle planned to inherit the entire legacy of Voldemort's remnant soul this Christmas, leaving nothing behind.
---