Walking down the hall, robes black as his soul, billowing in a non-existent wind he was. Ice cold smile and frozen eyes he had, with nought to ever thaw them. He wandered, Head Boy badge glinting in the light of a distant moon, which glowed eerily from its lofty perch above the forest, taunting the poor cursed ones as it grew closer to its full glory.

He carried on walking.

The moon held no terrors for him. Nothing and no-one did- not even death could touch him now, not even mortality ruled him, instead he ruled it! He was fear. He was what chilled a man's spine, took his pitiful courage, stopped his beating heart in his hollow chest.

He was still walking.

Pat the broom cupboard he knew for a fact two of his classmates were in. He ignored it. They now owed him, and he knew he would have to call in favours soon child- nay, what person could do what he did sans help? What person could do what he did at all? Did the sight of his glowing eyes turning red in the mirror not repulse him? Did the anguished cries of his victims not move him? Clearly not.

His pace was increasing now as he walked onwards. Past old Professor Bins' room, past senile Dumbledore's room… wait. What were those voices? It was DUmbledore and a student talking. talking about him!

"I am sorry Sandra, truly. But these are very serious accusations against Mr Riddle. He is our highly respected Head Boy, his record is against you."
"But sir, he-"
"I am more than aware of what you say he did."
"And you're not going to do anything."
"I can't. All I can do is promise to keep an eye on him."

Tom Riddle ducked behind a nearby pillar as Sandra left the room - he couldn't afford to be seen eavesdropping. He had time to think though, as he hid. How - how? - had the muggle loving fool Dumbledore caught on? Though he refused to admit it, he knew deep down, what had happened when he felt the inexplicable squirm of a snake in his stomach. Somewhere, in the small crevice of shrivelled blackened mess he referred to as a heart, something permanent had blossomed. And years later, the man who was once known as Riddle, the Dark Lord Voldemort remembered the day he had learnt fear.