Work Text:
June 14th 1943
The raven-haired boy sat in the Headmasters Office, one day after Myrtle Warren’s death. The Auror’s were still investigating how the Ravenclaw student --Myrtle Warren-- had died.
They had gathered all the possible suspects in the Headmasters Office to question. The circular room held 5 students, Roderick Lestrange, Tom Riddle, Griselda Macmillan, Sierra Abbott and one Harry Potter.
They all sat quietly as they waited for the Auror’s to start questioning them. Harry sat in the back, observing everyone in the room trying to figure out who it could’ve killed Warren.
He studied how Abbott comforted Macmillan as the girl sobbed on her shoulder, soaking Sierra’s shirt. Anyone with half a brain would know that those two didn’t kill Myrtle. Sure, they didn’t particularly like Warren -- no one really did -- but that doesn’t mean that they would kill her.
Now there was Lestrange and Riddle, Harry had seen both of them read questionable books, yet the way Riddle’s breathing was somewhat erratic, how his body was rigid and completely still.
Harry could tell that the Slytherin prefect was hiding something, and it was obvious that he was trying to hide that he was the one who killed Myrtle.
He had always liked Riddle, everyone did. But he knew the other boy would never notice him, Harry was a Gryffindor and the star Seeker for the Quidditch team both things were irrelevant to Riddle.
He sighed dramatically as he shifted in his chair, drawing in everyone’s attention momentarily before they looked away.
His lips twitched as he found a way to get Riddle’s attention, he knew the Auror’s would find Myrtle’s killer eventually and all the potential Riddle held would be wasted.
Harry knew it was reckless, but what’s life without a little bit of danger? He didn’t have anything to lose, his parents were dead. Killed by Grindelwald’s men. He was stuck with the Dursley’s who… weren’t the nicest people, to put it nicely.
He inhaled deeply, before exhaling once again. He was ready to go to prison, sure it sounded crazy but he was always a little off his rocker.
Just in time, the Auror’s pushed open the doors into the office, led by Headmaster Dippet. He could see Professor Dumbledore coming in as well. He wondered why the deputy headmaster needed to be here when there was already the headmaster.
‘Then again, the man had always been a meddlesome old coot.’ Harry mused, quirking a quick smile before hiding it behind his hand.
He cocked his head to the side as Dippet cleared his throat.
“Students.” He started with an authoritative voice. “I apologize with the wait, now you’re probably wondering why you five are here.”
Abbott and Macmillan nodded almost instantly, Riddle and Lestrange followed quickly after that. He just stared.
Dippet continued “I’m sure you’re all familiar with the death of your fellow student, Myrtle Warren. The auror’s have reason to believe that one of you is responsible for her death.”
The Headmaster gestured to an Auror with dirty blonde hair, said Auror cleared his throat as well before speaking in a gruff voice.
“I will be questioning all of you here, nothing too intense. Just some minor questions that could help with our investigation to catch the perpetrator.”
The Auror interviewed Abbott first, apparently she was near the second floor when Myrtle died. All in all, the interview was inconclusive, Abbott kept crying and saying she never heard anything.
Macmillan went up next, her interview was basically the same as Abbott’s, inconclusive.
There were even more tears this time around. But thankfully it was his turn next.
Harry got up and sat on the rickety wood stool used for the first years while they got sorted. He crossed his legs and got ready to cry.
“Well Mr. Potter first of all, you were seen walking towards the 2nd floor at 10pm yesterday which was around the time Ms. Warren died, correct?” The Auror said as he ran a hand through his hair, while getting ready to write Harry’s statements.
“Yes, I was…” Harry’s voice quivered slightly as he spoke.
Tears welled in Harry’s eyes as he mumbled a bunch of words “I-it’s just so sad that Myrtle died from a Basilisk, I-I mean who would be cruel enough to do that?”
Slight irritation flashed through the Auror’s eyes before they became sharp again, Harry internally smirked, sometimes it was too easy.
“We never said Ms. Warren died from a basilisk Mr. Potter.” The Auror questioned with his eyebrow raised.
Tom raised his head in disbelief, what was Potter doing?
Harry wiped his tears with his hand before smiling at the Blonde-haired Auror. “Oh, I know.” He said in a border-line hysteric tone.
“You do realize you’ll be going to Azkaban, right?” The Auror questioned again.
“No, I know.” He answered back, holding his hands out so the Auror could bind them with incarcerous.
That’s when everything ended, life at Hogwarts returned to normal and one Harry James Potter lay behind bars utterly mad yet the young man never regretted his decision, and Tom Marvolo Riddle began his rise as the next Dark Lord.