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Mad blood purists gotta stick together, yeah?

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[Jan. 24th, 2006|03:42 am]
Mad blood purists gotta stick together, yeah?



I wasn't really aware that anyone was into stories about Tom and Pansy, but I noticed this community and thought to myself, "I wrote a story with Tom and Pansy!"  I wrote most of it when I was sixteen, but I added more recently.

Title: Tom Riddle's Acute Boredom

Rating: Pg

Type: Humor, multiple installments

Summary: Voldemort is transformed into Tom Riddle, who goes to Hogwarts in order   to amuse himself.  He then gets Pansy to pretend to go out with him because he thinks that Harry, Draco, and Ginny are in love with him and wants to make them jealous.  Later, Tom and Pansy embark upon a sham marriage for no reason at all and Tom becomes a detective.  It's very silly.



Voldemort woke up one morning feeling like something terrible was going to happen that day. He wasn’t too concerned because he felt like that frequently and, being the Dark Lord, he had to accept that some bad things were going to happen. He had decided long ago that he would only react to the really terrible ones. "Wormtail!" he called, deciding to start the day.

Almost immediately, Wormtail appeared next to his bed, "Yes, my lord?" he said.

"Bring my orange juice."

"Yes, my lord," Wormtail said, scurrying towards the door.

"Oh, one more thing."

Wormtail inclined his head, as if to say, "Yes, my lord?"

"How did you get here so quickly? If I didn’t know better I’d say that you stand outside my door all the time, waiting for me to call you."

"Oh…" Wormtail began, shifting from foot to foot uneasily, "don’t be silly…."

"Silly? You dare call me, Lord Voldemort, The Dark Lord, silly?"

Wormtail looked incredibly anxious, "Oh! No, my lord, I was talking to myself."

Voldemort could see through the obvious lie but he wanted his orange juice to arrive quickly so he decided not to press the matter any further. "All right, go get the orange juice," he sighed.

"Yes, my lord," this time Wormtail dashed out the door, which was much faster than scurrying but scurrying is more rat-like. When he got to the kitchen, he poured the orange juice and started muttering about how Voldemort didn’t appreciate him at all and if he were gone, who would fetch the master’s orange juice every morning? He continued this moronic musing until he saw a small vial sitting on the kitchen counter. "Hello…" he said devilishly, "what’s this?" He picked up the vial and read the label. All it said was, "Do not feed to Voldemort." "Well, whatever it is," he thought, "Voldemort will learn his lesson when he drinks it." And so, completely oblivious to the consequences, he poured the contents of the vial into the orange juice and carried it up to Voldemort. Soon he was in the master bedroom. He set the tray on the bedside table and said, "Your juice, my lord," and bowed out of the room.

Voldemort took a sip of the juice and couldn’t help but notice that it had an odd, bitter taste. He weighed the possible consequences of drinking it against his desire for the daily glass of orange juice and decided to drink it. Soon he had finished the entire glass of smooth, tangy orange juice and decided to get dressed. He picked out an outfit from his evil closet and went to the mirror to prepare for the day. When he reached the mirror, which was very small and sooty, he thought he saw something odd about his appearance. "That’s odd…" he murmured. "Wormtail," he said in his inside voice, as he figured that Wormtail was probably right outside his door.

"Yes, my lord?" asked the inexcusable, rat-like person, doing a spit take when he saw his master’s changed appearance. Although, he wasn’t drinking anything at the time so the spit take came out sounding rather confusing.

"Fetch me a better mirror," said Voldemort, "this one is too small and sooty."

"Yes, my lord," Wormtail scampered out of the room only to return fifteen minutes later, empty handed. "They were out of mirrors," he said glumly. "It seems that someone by the name of Draco Malfoy has purchased all of them."

Voldemort scowled and then yelled, "Lucius!" sounding suspiciously like Ricky Ricardo.

Lucius Malfoy dashed into the room, "Yes, my lord?" Then he blinked several times in surprise at The Dark Lord’s appearance.

Voldemort decided that he didn’t really want to get into the speediness of everyone’s arrival that day so he got straight to the point, "Your son has purchased all of the mirrors and I need one."

"I’ll get one at once, my lord," said the creepy blonde man. He left and then quickly came back, holding a mirror.

"Well, my lord, it was difficult getting it away from Draco but here it is."

Voldemort took the mirror and looked into it. "Oh dear lord," he muttered. "I seem to have turned into Tom Riddle. This is…well…unforeseen."

"Oh, my lord," gasped Wormtail, "you’re gorgeous."

"Oh thank you," said Tom, his voice full of sarcasm. "That means so much to me. I was completely unaware of that fact until now." He stared sullenly into space for a few moments before saying, "Well, now what am I going to do?"

Lucius and Wormtail looked down at the floor, neither of them wanting to say anything.

"Oh just get out," Tom snapped. When everyone was gone, he began to stare into the mirror. ‘Well," he thought, "I am gorgeous. But what should I do about it? I don’t want to live like a recluse when I look like this. It’s so boring." Just then a brilliant idea occurred to him. "I’ll go to Hogwarts for awhile. That would be terribly amusing." He began to pack immediately. When he was finished he sent a letter to Dumbledore, letting the headmaster know of his imminent arrival. "Oh yes," he chuckled, "terribly amusing."

* * *

Three days later, Tom Riddle arrived in the great hall of Hogwarts. He gazed around at the empty hall and smiled. He had a feeling that being a teenager once again was going to be a very entertaining adventure. Just then he heard an extremely irritating voice say something about a certain Dark Lord. He followed the sound of the voice until he reached the hallway. He stopped for a moment, to listen and found that whoever was talking was just around the corner. He quietly approached the mysterious person, who apparently was talking to his friends, so that he could clearly hear the conversation.

"…So you see," the voice was saying, "my father says it’s only a matter of time before The Dark Lord realizes how silly it is to be dithering about in that abandoned house and he’ll return to full power."

"Wow…" another voice sighed.

"Oh for God’s sake, Crabbe," said the original voice, "will you stop eating that Popsicle. The smell is driving me insane."

"You can’t smell a Popsicle!" gasped Crabbe.

"Anyway," continued the first voice, "I, for one, am looking forward to the day He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named comes to his senses."

"Comes to his senses?" Tom said, stepping around the corner. "Who are you, young man, to presume that you have any idea what is good for me?"

"And who are you? Calling me young man, as if you’re any older than I am!"

Tom paused a moment, looking at the strangely familiar person. "Oh…you must be Draco Malfoy." He chuckled sinisterly, "Your father has been positively dispensable lately."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh I’m sorry," Tom blinked and then grinned charmingly, holding out a few fingers to substitute for a handshake, "I’m Tom Riddle." Getting no response he said, "You know – Voldemort."

Draco’s eyes widened and he ran down the hall, followed closely by a very breathless Crabbe and Goyle.

"Well, that was silly," thought Tom, "I definitely don’t like that boy." He walked down the hall until he reached Dumbledore’s office. He went in (me: I’d say how he got in, but right now that just sounds too boring for words) and said "Hello, Albus, been expecting me?"

"Yes, Tom. Cake?" he asked, holding up a huge, two-layered cake.

Tom was momentarily thrown off guard buy the absurd offer, but he quickly overcame his confusion and said, "No."

"So, tell me, what brought you back to Hogwarts? And what made you look fifty-two years younger?"

"Well, the youth thing was probably the fault of something Wormtail slipped into my orange juice and coming to Hogwarts was the result acute boredom."

"Ah. Well, I’m happy to give you a second chance. You can begin classes on Monday."

"What! You’re giving me a second chance? Why?"

"I believe in people."

Tom thought that this was the most moronic thing he had ever heard, (discounting everything Wormtail had ever said) but then his mind moved on to the second thing Dumbledore had said. "Wait – you’re making me go to class! That’s ridiculous, I’m the most powerful wizard in the world. You can’t make me go to class."

"I’m the headmaster. I can make you go to class."

Tom opened and closed his mouth a few times and then just glared at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore chuckled and said, "It’s good to have you back, Tom."

"Damn you!" he cried, running from the room. When he was out of the room he noticed that he had no where to go.

That was when Dumbledore stepped out into the hall and said, "Come on, I’ll show you to your room." Tom sullenly followed Dumbledore through the twisting passageways of the school until they reached what was now Tom’s dorm. "I set it up for you when I received your letter," Dumbledore explained.

"How sweet of you." Tom went into the room and glanced around. It would do, he decided. He looked over at Dumbledore and said, "Oh. You’re still here?"

"There are a few things that I wanted to tell you before I leave you alone."

Tom raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"Well you see…" the old wizard began. However, he was quickly interrupted by a small toad hopping into the room. "How did that get in here?" he wondered aloud.

It was explained shortly by the arrival of Neville Longbottom, exclaiming, "Trevor!"

"Who is this?" asked Tom, edging away from the round lad.

"Neville Longbottom," Dumbledore replied pulling a tin of candy from his robes. "Bonbon?" he offered.

"No," Tom said distractedly, watching Neville leave with the toad. "What was it you wanted to tell me?"

"Ah yes," he paused. "That’s funny. I don’t remember. Ginger snap?" he asked, pulling a basket of cookies out of another fold in his robe.

"No. Go away."

"Very well," Dumbledore left Tom alone in the large room, gazing out the window.

After about ten minutes of solid gazing, Tom heard a loud argument coming from outside his door. He recognized one of the voices as the unfailingly irritating Draco Malfoy but the other one was too muffled to make out. "Well," he thought, walking towards the door, "whoever it is, they’re a friend of mine if they’re on a Malfoy’s bad side." He opened the door, saying, "Draco, what are you doing, standing around in the hall fighting? Shouldn’t you be running away?"

As he watched the death eater’s son dash down the hallway, he heard the other person involved in the scuffle say, "Wow, thanks."

Not recognizing the voice because it sounded so cheerful, Tom turned to the teenager and was about to speak when he recognized a familiar lightening bolt scar. "Oh. You," he said coldly.

"Voldemort," Harry said curtly, obviously recognizing him from their little adventure in second year.

Neither of them knew what to say so they occupied themselves by glaring at each other for about nineteen minutes. Finally Tom said, "Well, this has been fun but I’m going to my room now." He turned around and walked into his room.


After Tom had been standing in his room for all of thirty-nine seconds, he heard some forceful knocking on the other side of his door. He waited for a few moments before answering it, because who answers their door right away? It looks pathetic. When he finally got around to opening it he was startled to see Harry Potter standing across the threshold.

"Why couldn’t you open the door? I knocked immediately after you shut it."

"Silly Harry, I never open a door right away. Actually, I usually don’t even open doors. That’s what I have Wormtail for." He paused and then looked at Harry inquiringly, "So…what do you want?"

"I’m wondering why you haven’t tried to kill me. You’ve probably been at Hogwarts for some time now and I can’t figure out why you haven’t done anything really evil."

"Oh. Didn’t I tell anyone?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "Tell anyone what?"

"That I’m going to be a good person for awhile."

Harry didn’t know what to say. However, after a few false starts, he managed to choke out, "You what!"

"Is that all you could come up with? I know that having your arch nemesis decide to join your side must be fairly shocking, but you could have thought of a slightly more articulate question to ask."

"Oh I’m sorry. Next time I’ll consider how you’re feeling when I ask a question."

"Right," Tom began to shut the door. "Bye then."

"Ohhhh no, " Harry pried the door open. "You’re not going back in there without explaining yourself."

"Fine. Come in."

"I’m not going in there!"

"Well, if we argue in the hall, everyone will hear."

Harry considered things for a moment and then said, "Oh all right. But if you try anything…"

"I’m not going to—remember, I’m a good person now." Harry glared at him and they both went inside. "Tea?" Tom asked.


"Are you sure?"

At this point, Harry almost grinned, "You’re beginning to sound like Dumbledore," he said.

Tom shuddered and then said, "Alright, if f you say that one more time, I will kill you."

"I thought you were going to be nice," Harry said.

"I didn’t say nice – I said good. And I’m only being good because I was bored and needed a change in my life. I refuse to ever be nice, unless I really mean it. But I doubt that I ever will."

"Good people are nice." said Harry.

"Are they? Oh dear, I never considered that." Tom looked contemplative for a moment before saying, "I suppose I won’t do bad things, but I might say them."

Deciding to get back to business, Harry said, "So you’re saying that the only reason that you’re here, at Hogwarts, and being nice is because you were bored?"


"Oh. Well, why do you look like Tom Riddle instead of Voldemort?"

"I’d chalk that up to Wormtail’s incompetence. Not that I mind, of course, incase you haven’t noticed, I’m gorgeous."

Harry looked like he was taking this in but then a strange look of anger crossed his face and he said, "That’s it! I’m leaving. I refuse to have a civil conversation with the creature who killed my parents and has been trying to kill me all sixteen years of my life!"

"Goodness, you’re sixteen now? My, my, time certainly does fly."

"Argh!" Harry exclaimed as he stormed out the door.

Tom chuckled and then glanced over at the hourglass on his nightstand, "Oh dear," he said. "It’s past time for breakfast." He walked down to the Great Hall and sat at the Slytherin table. Most of the people at the table turned to look at him, mildly curious about the new student. Only Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle knew that he was Voldemort – or Tom Riddle, for that matter. He hadn’t been introduced to anyone yet.

"Oh look!" Draco said, seeing Tom, "It’s the former Dark Lord! Guess you don’t know how to control your Death Eaters, eh Tommy?" Apparently he had recovered from his earlier fear of his father’s, to say the least, boss.

"What on earth are you talking about, Draco?" asked Pansy Parkinson, who was sitting next to the irritating blonde lad.

"Yes, please enlighten us," Tom said.

"Never mind," Draco muttered, deciding it best to save the teasing for when everyone knew who the new student was.

"Draco," whispered Crabbe, "you shouldn’t tease He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He could kill you."

"The way I see it," Draco whispered back, "is that anyone who sticks up for Harry Potter deserves to be teased."

Obviously Draco was still sore about the little incident in the hall earlier that morning. "And besides," he continued, "seeing as how he’s turned back to his sixteen year old self and is now attending Hogwarts, he’s as good as defeated." A smug look developed on his face before he said, "My father is about to take over the Death Eaters shortly and then we’ll see who’s the most powerful wizard in the world."

Tom, who had heard this entire exchange, (due to his acute hearing) quietly said, so that only Draco could hear, "I couldn’t care less about your father trying to take my place. He can bloody well have the Death Eaters if he wants them. They’re completely incompetent. Why don’t you go sit at a different table? The sound of your voice is making me lose my appetite."

"Why don’t you sit at another table? I’ve been sitting here all year."

"Where should I sit! I’m the Heir of Slytherin, for Christ’s sake. I’m not sitting anywhere else."

"Neither am I."

"Fine. You and Pansy switch places. That way she can be between us."

"Oh alright."

After a great deal of shuffling they were finally free of each other and Tom was able to get back to his meal. That is, until Dumbledore stood up and said, "Students, we have a new student," then he paused, reflecting on the stupidity of that sentence. "His name is Tom Riddle, but you probably know him as Lord Voldemort. Let’s give him a warm round of applause as welcome to Hogwarts."

Needless to say, no one clapped. Well, actually there was one person who started to clap, and then quickly stopped. But for the most part, Dumbledore’s welcoming speech was met by a shocked, frightened silence. "Oh brilliant," thought Tom, "he just had to tell everyone who I am." He decided not to dwell on the fact that everyone hated him and began to eat his breakfast of half a grapefruit.