4 Freezing Fire

A couple of weeks passed uneventfully. Hogwarts went into its beginning of term routine. Classes, homework, detentions, Quidditch. Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, History of Magic, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, and Herbology were everything the students talked about. Even the rumor about the Living Shroud dissipated.

Neither the Headmaster nor the Professors showed any interest in Tom Riddle's houseless status. They appeared to let him stay in Gryffindor.

Not that Tom was complaining. He became good friends with Harry, Hermione, and Ron in no time.

Tom realized that this wizarding world differed from the one he was acquainted with. He had partial memories of Tom Riddle and vague recollections of being Voldemort. Vast pieces of information were missing from his mind map.

How did he get into Hogwarts as a student? After a brief investigation, he found although his parents were dead, he was sent to school by his elderly guardian, Mr. Tarby Huddle. Tom had never heard the name before but was curious to put a face before the name.

That one of the most powerful and notorious wizards of all time, Grindelwald, had been elected Minister for Magic was a shocking revelation to him. He couldn't wait to meet the enigma.

Dumbledore was Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and hence, mostly absent from Hogwarts grounds, away on Ministry business.

Even though the first-years were supposed to be eleven-year-olds, they looked and sounded like thirteen-year-olds.

Tom found that the character, Lord Voldemort, did exist in the past. The latter carried out all the evil he was supposed to, disappearing after killing Harry's parents. However, the real name and identity of the wizard were unknown.

The only person who would know the imposter's secret was Dumbledore. The boy decided to speak to the old headmaster the next time they crossed paths.

"Have you ever seen the dark lord, Harry?" Tom asked his new friend. "Knight to D3."

They were playing wizard's chess, and Harry was losing. Ron was chased away after he became really competitive and started antagonizing his opponents.

"You mean, Voldermort? Are you scared of taking his name? Pawn to F6."

"Rook to G3. Well, aren't you? He killed your parents. And hundreds of innocent wizards and witches. He's said to be the most powerful wizard ever. "

"He WAS, Tom," Harry chewed the words like stones. "Voldemort is dead. Never to come back. And Dumbledore has always been the most powerful wizard, rivaled probably by Grindelwald. Pawn to H6."

"You seem to be more scared of him than I am. Queen to C7. Check and mate."

Harry bit his lip, having lost the game. "I don't want to talk about it," he said, rushing to his feet. "Let's go. We're getting late for Charms."

Tom smiled to himself and followed him.

****

The Charms classroom was located on the third floor. Professor Flitwick stood on a pile of books taking the roll call. Five rows of desks facing the Professor were filled to the brim with excited students.

"Tarantallegra!" Padma chanted at Neville, and his feet started dancing. There was a roar of laughter from the audience.

"Outstanding, Miss Patil," Flitwick chirped, immediately fixing the dancing Neville's legs. "Both of you may return to your seat."

"Now we shall try a harder spell," he continued. "It is known as flame freezing."

There was a murmur among the students.

"Anyone knows what that means?"

Hermione's hand shot up immediately.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"According to Miranda Goshawk's Book of Spells, the Flame-Freezing Charm changes the effects of a fire in such a way that instead of burning, it feels like a warm summer breeze. In the 14th century witch burnings, magical people escaped unharmed with the use of a Flame-Freezing Charm. The Eccentric Witch, Wendelin the Weird, who enjoyed the sensation of the charm, allowed herself to be burned at the stake at least forty-seven times in various disguises."

Flitwick grinned and bobbed on his chair. "Ten points to Gryffindor!"

The Charms teacher brought out a thick candle and, with a flick of the wrist, lit it up. "I need a volunteer?" Many hands shot up. "Mr. Weasley!"

Ron left his seat beaming and approached the teacher's table.

"Would you touch the flame, Mr. Weasley?"

The boy did as he was told and flinched. "It's hot. Why did you-"

"Now watch," Flitwick said, tapping the candle. "Stringo Flamma."

~*~

The candle fire sputtered and turned a greenish white. Ron put his hand on the flame.

"What do you feel?"

"It tickles," Ron said. The class giggled.

"Now go back to your seat, and everyone, please fetch a candle each from the shelves. Remember to say the spell aloud only after the tap."

The class got busy with the assignment, and Flitwick occupied himself with correcting the tests of third-year students.

"Professor?"

Flitwick looked over his spectacles to see Tom hovering near him.

"Yes, Mr. Riddle? Did you face any problems with the charm? You've been excellent over the past couple of weeks. I don't see how you'd need my help."

Tom smiled politely. "Oh, I have already finished the task, Professor," he replied, pointing at his desk where a bluish-green flame loomed.

Flitwick observed his accomplishment from a distance. "Ah, you have taken all the heat away. Now the fire would not even tickle. You exceed expectations, as usual, Mr. Riddle. I would give you points, but since you don't belong to a house-"

"Thanks, Professor, but could I pick your mind about an unrelated magic?"

Flitwick nodded, replacing his quill. "Of course, m'boy."

Tom stepped closer and began. "I have heard of the Confundus Charm, which is pretty simple to cast. But would you know how a wizard would go about using the charm on, say, a hundred people together?"

Flitwick stood on his pile of books. "Mr. Riddle! Is this a joke? You cannot practice that charm anywhere in Hogwarts. It is shameful to meddle with a person's thoughts!"

Tom did not lose his charm, even a sliver. "Of course, Professor. You are quite right about that. My question was merely for academic purposes."

Flitwick relaxed into his chair. "Well, there has been limited research on mass confundus. And there is no advanced spell in this genre. I can tell you that… the stronger your will and determination are, the stronger the charm. This formula applies to the area of effect and the number of targets as well."

Tom's face twisted into a thin smile. "That helps, Professor. Thank you."

Flitwick nodded and went back to his test papers.

****

"I hate it! I hate it! I hate it!" Hermione kept repeating as they walked up the grand staircase.

"Stop it, Hermione!" Harry urged. "Let it go."

"Why do the second-years get to go on a Forbidden Forest visit? I've seen second-years unable to do simple disarming spells. I hate the discrimination!"

"Wouldn't you rather read about the Forbidden Forest rather than go there?" Ron poked.

Hermione shot him a fiery glance, and he looked away.

"What do you say we sneak out tonight?" Tom suggested, jumping over a trick stair.

Hermione stopped in her tracks. "We could get expelled…."

"It could be dangerous," Harry piled on.

"I heard there are spiders in the forest," Ron joined in nervously.

"We'll be careful," Tom assured them. "And we won't get caught. I have discovered a secret way. What do you say, friends? Interested in an adventure?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged glances. And they nodded at him together.