Prologue
Disclaimer: This story, meaning even what is unwritten, is based off of the works of the wonderful Jk Rowling.
Any disclaimer after this will be warnings about content or, more likely, a joke about the chapter. Breaks and or transitions in the story will be represented with DSDSDS, if I change it you will be told. Anyway, enjoy the story and please tell me what you think. I feel like Hermione after a big test over here.
Last revision: Oct 2017
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Lord Voldemort was one of few wizards that could considered himself without equal. He had defeated countless opponents with relative ease during his life, using both the might of his magic and mind. In school he fully grasped everything taught faster and in greater depth than even his professors could believe. Having grown up weak and powerless, the young Tom Riddle became twisted by the might of his magic and privately adopting the monicker "Lord Voldemort" after he commited his first murder at the age of sixteen. It was that ultimate power over life itself that he persistently chased over all things from then on. Though even as his magic matured, the influence of his Death Eaters spread, and his knowledge grew; he could still never have enough power and influence over those around him.
His focus for a time turned towards the practice of rituals to empower himself further using the life-force of others. By thirty, he had magical reserves that rivaled great mages of legend, perhaps even the infamous Merlin. With access to the libraries of some of the oldest families he was able to learn many secrets about the arts of magic, though many were of little use for his current goals. With so much power it was not long before he felt the inevitable fears of loosing it all too great to be ignored and his attention shifted focus.
His work with the Horcruxes was his grandest idea and something he planned carefully over the course of his life after making the first in the chamber of secrets. Voldemort took pride in his ability to push the limits and play with soul magic like none had ever dared before him. Truly he thought that he had beaten death in his youth but as time carried on his fears only grew.
Mad though as he was, he could still see that while death may have been held back indefinitely it would never go away. No matter how long it took, his Horcruxes could eventually be destroyed by the absolute power of time or by an even more powerful being. What he ultimately decided must be done to achieve his goals was to simply find a method to overpower Death itself. While no easy feat, Voldemort knew he had hundreds of years if he needed them and all the resources he could want for. If it had taken him a thousand years he would still have kept looking, for his mind had become weakened by his fear and could think of nothing but one goal after being split so many times. He met several dead ends, studying everything from light magic to even children's stories, but still could not find anything after years of research. Countless innocents were sacrificed for his purposes with little results but still he piled the bodies higher.
It was once again the Horcruxes that turned out to be of even greater use than he or anyone else had ever envisioned. With a soul split into seven pieces, each piece acting as a ritual catalyst between the others, he found he could add to and expand the size and strength of ones soul, a method that would potentially yield far greater results than the rituals he practiced already. He could steal the strength of as many souls as he could get his magical fingers into until ultimately nothing would be able to stand in his way. His plans grew ever more twisted, realizing that while death eaters had proven useful they would rapidly become obsolete as time passed. By that point he hoped to have masses of followers under the influence of his mark, all of whom would have their souls ripped from their bodies when he wished. It was a brilliant scheme, backed with years of prior plotting and study already spent with similar ideas in mind. Every day Voldemort found himself to grin a little bit more, and would often spend hours laughing madly into the empty air at his mansion. His followers were both unnerved and emboldened by their masters confidence and carried out his orders ruthlessly without question not realizing the irony in doing so.
His plans all came to a sudden halt when a young potions master and Death Eater by the name of Severus Snape told Voldemort half of a prophecy involving the Dark Lord and an unborn child. Voldemort felt his fears grip him once again, unaware that they had consumed his life and distracted him long enough for fate to find his wretched soul. For while he had found the perfect way to beat death, the realization that fate could surpass even the reaper changed his focus towards this new threat.
At first he planned to use this "Child of Prophecy" as the source for his seventh Horcrux. The elegant Irony of the idea made him shiver with the dark pleasure but soon decided it simply wouldn't be worthwhile to rush things without knowing all the details. If he were to beat fate he would need the power and knowledge to do so before he tried to face it as there very well might not be a second chance.
So it was an easy decision for him to order every one of his death eaters to attack the ministry after learning of the Prophecy. They flooded into the ministry not five hours after the prophecy had been made, still early in the morning when there was a minimal amount of magical's to resist, and proceeded with the slaughter of every witch and wizard inside. Those under his control inside the ministry turned off all floo access while also changing the wards to block port-keys and apparation, trapping everyone inside. Several layers of wards were also brought in with the attackers and placed to provide further protection. Together, the wards proved to be nearly as powerful as those of Hogwarts, though nowhere near as long lasting. Several patronus messages and owls were able to be released in the panic but they were sent needlessly as no help could get inside for the entire day. By that time thirty civilian ministry employees were gone along with the prime minister Millicent Bagnold, one of the two Heads of the DMLE, twenty Aurors, fourteen Hit Wizards, and thirty-seven Magical Law Enforcement patrol witches and wizards. Every one of their wands was found snapped in a giant pile in the middle of the atrium, along with Bagnolds head placed unceremoniously on a statue.
What was unknown to all but the Death Eaters was that Voldemort had single handedly stormed the Department of Mysteries and massacred all Unspeakables inside.
"VOLDEMORT YOU BASTARD!" Yelled the blue hooded wizard as he stepped over the bodies of his comrades. "THIS MADNESS WILL ACCOMPLISH NOTHING!"
"Perhaps not for you Twelmar. Your secrets should prove quite useful to my plans." The wizard was clearly taken back by the use of his name, something that made the Dark Lord cackle in delight. "But enough of this needless talking. Let us end this my old friend."
"AVADA-" shouted the Unspeakable before needing to dodge out of the way of a spike of rock that was silently summoned and sent flying towards his head. Quick from endless hours spent training and fighting the hooded wizard flung deep purple rays of light towards Voldemort who simply absorbed them with his Protego shield.
"Come now, you started so strong with that killing intent." Monologued the madman as he walked calmly towards his foe. Wand moving in a flurry while mumbling unintelligibly under his breath the outmatched wizard still continued to throw astounding magic at him. Glistening spouts of fizzling acid ate into the floor around the glowing shield. Chunks of black shining rock smashed into dust against he unwavering wall and even glowing sparks that spewed forth from the wand to collect in a swarm ate into the glowing wall causing its waver to dim for a moment.
"Your day will come Voldemort! As the last friend of Tom Riddle I curse you!" At this moment energy expanded from the Unspeakable in an orb of light blue energy which began to collect debris, which then began to circle around its exterior. Suddenly they turned into thousands of different items; knives, swords, flowers, and even one particularly angry looking rubber duck. Voldemort was impressed, but laughed as they all came flying towards him. His shield however was more than a match for any conjured item, although he was not amused to be hit in the face by the duck.
Just as his amusement turned into furious anger another item came flying from behind the Dark Lord and impaled into his arm before his reflexes allowed him to doge. Hissing in pain he saw the poisoned dagger stuck into his pale flesh before cutting the apendage off without hesitation. Without even turning back he flicked his wand to his side, ripping the wizard Twelmar into pieces that now littered the hallway. Growing back the arm would be annoyingly painful and he hoped the Unspeakable felt every instant of what he did to him.
It was known only to Voldemort that he had taken one of the thousands of globes in an enormous room of the department that had always been kept a secret. He had also taken the time to transport the more obscure research he could from their various sub-departments, knowing that the Unspeakables would obviously have at least something of value amongst their many secrets. He had set loose a Fiendfyre that he felt was worth his time and ire afterwords, engulfing much of the the section in flames until nearly the entire space was burned to ash. In muggle London many panicked when a building suddenly collapsed but later surprised investigations would report clear indications of fire damage. Despite this, no witnesses reported seeing any smoke at all, only the sudden crumble of what everyone had assumed was a warehouse.
Alongside the slaughter, nearly every thing of value, importance, or even general use the Death Eaters could get their hands on was taken. From the secret safe in the Ministers office, to a sizable portion of the massive library of tomes the ministry had been stockpiling for years, there was little left over. Wether all of it was taken though was unsure as many rooms were in ruins, to the point several rooms were nothing but burnt husks of their former selves.
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With the greatest secrets held by generations of Unspeakables at his fingers, the Dark Lord began reading from every withered tome he could find looking for some clue or mysterious inner working of magic that could defeat destiny itself. It was in one small book hidden amongst the sealed notes of an Unspeakable from an unknown time that he read of a cursed land from another plane of existence. Further reading into the mans case notes showed he had written them over the course of several months, notes from his colleagues observing a decline in his mental health during this time until one day the man had simply collapsed looking like a shriveled corpse. The writer warned of the cost of creating the link to this other place as it would demand an offering of ones soul and humanity. That it was a curse from which not even gods could escape. Voldemort's cackles at the realization of what he could do with this filled his mansion for many hours, causing severe uneasiness in all those who heard the insane cackles.
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Several tough years were ahead for the Ministry and Magical Britain as a whole tried to recover from the blow. Further attacks from the Death Eater's were carried out on the weakened forces of light pushing them closer and closer towards defeat. When it came to be that the Dark Lord was defeated by the infant Harry Potter the magical's of Britain rejoiced for weeks, although they later mourned the losses of the war for the rest of their lives.
With the forces of dark held at bay the Ministry was rebuilt and the people returned to peaceful lives. Much knowledge had been lost but enough was regained from the Death Eaters interrogations that the country was able to get back on its feet and trudge forward. Backups had been prepared with Gringots as well for a good portion of vital information needed about the country but many bits of knowledge about magic would not be rediscovered for generations. Worst of all was the Department of Mysteries being cleaned out. Most Unspeakable's whom were not killed returned to work severely blinded by the loss of so many resources that could never be regained.
While most of the world expected Magical Britain to fade in power as they had during the Dark Ages of Europe it was quite a surprise to their neighbors when they managed to pick back up soon after the defeat of the worst dark lord since Grindelwald. Many would associate this to their strong ties with the Goblin bankers, others would point out this was far from the first time the British had recovered after taking a thrashing. Even during the reign of the Romans the islands magical's were survivors, and around the world countries gave their support to the countries resiliency.
Despite their success in rebuilding there was one thing lost in all the commotion. Harry Potter was in nearly everyones minds but it would be years before people started asking where he was. Sadly it was fated that the people he had been put in the care of would only be the first to fail him.
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Thanks for reading.