Children of the Dark Times
In the end it comes down to one ultimate choice: will you fight against the Darkness... or stand beside it? AU
A/N: This story is an old story of mine, written in 2012 (or something like that, I don't have the original script with me now). It's taking me some time getting it rewritten here, especially since I try to correct all the mistakes and misused words the original contains. Let me know if there are any typos or parts hard to understand, I'll certainly correct it.
This story is first part of an AU universe created by me. It focuses on Harry, Riddle and sometimes on Neville, who are living in a world different from the one known in HP series. Okay, let's just see how it all works out.
Also, thanks for reading and please let me know what you think of it!
Disclaimer: Everyone knows that Harry Potter and his world doesn't belong to me. Otherwise I would be awfully rich and famous.
Chapter one: The world that wasn't
It was June of his sixth year at Hogwarts when he was finally summoned to Defence Against the Dark Arts professor's office. He was expecting that for quite some time now, but expecting wasn't the same as being ready for the meeting.
He hesitated before knocking at the door. Then he took a deep breath and knocked hard, loudly. It was the least he could do. The last act of rebellion against this man.
A smooth voice from inside called him in. It was a voice one would find attracting. It was strong, powerful, charming when needed, frightening when angry and always demanding nothing else but one's full attention. It suited professor just fine.
"Good afternoon, Mr Potter. Would you like a cup of tea?" the man asked, showing him to empty armchair before the fireplace. Harry knew his professor enjoyed that certain beverage very much, but politely declined. He took the seat, trying to maintain neutral expression while faced with professor Riddle.
The man sitting opposite him was handsome, despite the fact that he was seventy years old. He looked timeless, with his face bearing but a few wrinkles, with his hair still dark and soft and his body slim and tall. His appearance triggered countless rumours of him being a vampire or another creature of the night. Riddle took it all with mild amusement, but never stopped the rumours.
Only his eyes seemed to betray his age. Dark blue, they were the eyes of someone who has seen it all and now the world hold no mysteries before him. They were the eyes of the wisest and the most powerful wizard alive, who deserved respect, if not just plain worship.
Professor Riddle took a slip from his cup, looking in his fine robes as noble as a king.
"You know why I wanted to meet with you, Mr Potter"
"Yes, I do, Professor" Harry answered, his back stiff and his eyes staring at the point a little to the left from the other man. "I quit DA"
"Indeed. Unfortunately, that is not all you did. Or should I say more accurately, what you failed to do. Not only have you quitted Advanced Defence Arts, you have also practically failed my class. Never in my career as a teacher I had seen such fall from grace in such a short time. From the best student to the worst in one year. Quite astonishing." Harry felt his face begin to redden. As much as he tried to keep his neutral expression, as much as he wanted to stay above anything his professor said, he couldn't stop an ashamed look crossing his face. He forced himself to concentrate. He knew that Riddle would try all his tricks, manipulation of his emotions being only the first one.
"I tried, Professor, but it seems NEWT level classes are beyond my grasp" He said, his tone a little defending. "No matter how long I spend studying, I hardly make any progress. That is also why I stopped attending DA meetings" He dropped his head, trying to appear resigned. "There is no place for me there."
"There is one person who has the right to decide who is allowed to attend Advanced Defence Arts and you are not that person, Mr Potter" said Riddle coldly. "You quit when I tell you to do so and you are obligated to attend until I tell you to stop. You are still a member of DA. You will continue to attend meetings. Is that clear, Mr Potter?"
"But-"
"Is that clear?" The man's voice was cold and cruel. It sent shivers down Harry's back.
"Yes" he said, his hands tightening into fists, trying to keep calm.
"Now, since you neglected your duty as a member of DA, I am forced to give you a detention." Harry growled internally. Great, that's all I needed, he thought. He had a hunch who he will have that detention with, and he was proved right as he listened to his professor. "I believe that two hours each day till the end of the school year will be enough to improve your Defence skills. We will start your detention tomorrow at six in the morning. Try to be on time, you know I don't approve lateness." With that, he sat himself more comfortably in his armchair, clearly indicating that the meeting was over.
But young Gryffindor remained sitting, refusing to give up so easily.
"There really is no point in me attending DA meetings. I'm hopeless at Defence."
"I have faith in you, Potter. Especially since your mysterious failure concerns only Defence Against the Dark Arts. Other NEWT level classes you excel in. Professor Flitwick expressed surprise when I mention how you are struggling in my classes. He considered you to be quite gifted in Charms, especially Curses which are commonly used in Defence Against the Dark Arts." Harry could swore his heart really skipped a bit. He could feel blood draining from his face. "Truly, in light of this fact, your disability to do well in Defence presents quite disturbing image. Do you know what I mean, Harry?"
He knows, thought Harry with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Of course, he always knew everything. Merlin, he even knew Hermione does most of the Perfect duties, leaving him little to do himself and that wasn't a common knowledge. Professor Riddle seemed to know about Hogwarts and it's secrets more than anyone. How could he not know what Harry was doing?
And yet, the man was not omnipotent. He couldn't know everything that was happening. He couldn't see into Potter Manor to find out what is going on. It was all a manipulation. He wanted Harry to confess under the false pretence that he already knew. Nice one, Riddle. But I'm better than that.
"I-" he started, but was again unbalanced by the older man cutting him off.
"I believe you know how much I despise lying, Harry." Of course he knew, it was a common knowledge among students. You learned that pretty fast if you saw (or happened to be the unlucky one) what happened to those that dared to lie to Professor Riddle. "For your sake, let's stick to the truth."
Riddle put aside his empty cup and locked his hands under his chin, giving Harry his full attention. Potter dropped his gaze to the carpet. He could feel the eyes of the man opposite him boring into him.
He couldn't lie, not to Tom Riddle. But he could hide some facts, preventing him from knowing it all.
Because the truth-
Oh, the truth was so much more dangerous.
It was a Gold Age for the Wizarding Britain. After Grindelwald's terror was cut short by Albus Dumbledore, witches and wizards busied themselves with peace-time activities. And so great museums, universities, theaters, the Fountain of Knowledge Magical Library, Morgana's Opera, The Magnificent Learning Hall of Merlin and all other institutions came to life. With the war more and more forgotten, culture and education reached the highest level in the last age. One had never seen such a peaceful time for so long.
If only Albus Dumbledore, bless his golden heart, lived long enough to see all of this! It was such a tragedy to loose the great man to a silly experiment with magical artefact of his own making. A pity, really – after twenty-five years of peace such a tragedy stuck.
Only few still remembered that the peace was disturbed earlier, in the sixties. Even though it wasn't openly discussed, everyone knew someone who heard from another source about strange signs all around the country. Mysterious disappearances of witches and wizards, dead bodies showing up in random places, reports of night disturbances caused by "drunken wizards, Honey, let's go back to bed". Suspiciously looking men started to appear in the pubs, whispering to themselves about a dark wizard.
No one wanted to accept those strange events as a sign that the time of peace was over.
"There is no war, sir. It's just better not to leave your hose after dark." they said.
Then Albus Dumbledore died. The darkness surrounding the Wizarding Britain started to grow stronger with each day. It was time for a new hero to emerge.
Tom Riddle was that hero. Said to be the brightest and most powerful wizard alive after Dumbledore and at the same time a sharp and smart Slytherin, which endeared him not only former Hogwarts Headmaster's supporters, but also those who found Albus' softness undesired. Head of Magical Law Enforcement and before that an excellent Auror, he was loved by the crowds for his wisdom and judgment. He never tried to become the Minister of Magic, though he had support of almost all of the Wizarding Britain. Many wondered why he hadn't, but soon they found the most fitting, perfect answer.
He was a modest man. Succeeding from one of the Founders himself, he was a pureblooded heir to the fortune of his noble ancestors. He could do whatever he wished to. As an Auror he fought the rising darkness, as the Head of MLE he became the beacon of light for the wizards and witches, bringing hope to their hearts after Dumbledore was gone. He made the darkness go away, restoring the peace at it's most stable. Finally, with the country stabilized, he choose to quit the Ministry of Magic and take over the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. He wanted to pass his vast knowledge to children – the most precious treasure of every country. He wanted them to be strong, proud, bright and powerful beyond all imagination. He desired all the best for them, for he loved them like he would his own.
Minerva McGonagall welcomed him with open arms. And so, nearly ten years after Albus' tragic death, almost thirty-five years since Grindelwald fell, professor Riddle began his teaching career.
He was an excellent teacher. He inspired respect and obedience. He awarded those worth prize and punished those who failed him. He taught young wizards and witches with passion and great devotion to his subject and his students. He dedicated all his time for Hogwarts. Maybe McGonagall was the Headmistress, but Tom Riddle was one in everything but the title. It was no secret that he run that school. Everyone respected and carried out his decisions.
That man was a devoted teacher, who loved his students so much, that he dedicated all of his free time to them.
That said, he took the most promising wizards and witches; the brightest, the smartest, the most powerful. He took them under his wing and created the exclusive Defence Arts for younger students and Advanced Defence Arts for sixth and seventh years. A club for skilful little wizards and witches, where they learned under his guidance more than was covert in DADA classes.
What they learned, exactly? Why so few, why not every one?
"Defence Arts and Advanced Defence Arts covers material that wasn't introduced in Defence classes... for a few reasons. It requires more power and concentration from the students, therefore only the best of you have any hopes of managing to learn the curses covered here. Before you rest on your laurels, I must warn you that I will demand of you concentration, dedication and total obedience. The ones who will struggle to keep up the pace of work will be dismissed from further attendance, those who will not follow the rules I'll give you will share their fate.
"But if you devote yourselves to Defence Arts, I can guarantee you the power and glory beyond the grasp of your peers. You will become the elite of Wizarding World. The power to change the world will be at your whim. Follow my guidance with obedience. Only then the world will lay at your feet."
Well, they surely learned how to defend themselves. What else could DA cover, right?
Of course right.
"I know how it looks like, Professor. My efforts at Defence are half-hearted. You said it numerous times, that you won't achieve anything if you don't have determination and a will to succeed."
Riddle said nothing, waiting for the rest of explanation. Harry felt as if his every word was being assessed in the category of 'truth' or 'lie'.
"All the summer I wondered about my future. Since I was a child, I wanted to become an Auror, like my father. But over the summer I understood how much I enjoy flying" Here you go, Harry."I don't want to be an Auror anymore. I want to be a professional Quidditch player. Madame Hooch told me that I'm an excellent Seeker with huge talent, one not to waste. She asked me if I would be interested in professional Quidditch. She said she can invite Falmouth Falcons' Captain to Gryffindor Match. I said yes."
It was mostly the truth. He really agreed to Hooch's proposition and Falcons' Captain have already confirmed his presence. His best friends, Neville and Ron, who were both on the team (Ron as a Keeper and Neville as a Beater) were as excited as he was for the opportunity to present themselves. They also supported his decision to become professional Seeker. Their support was invaluable as he found it hard to keep up his enthusiasm, because-
But that's not the thought I want to risk in front of Riddle. Concentrate, Potter!
"That match is in a few days and it's hard for me to focus on such a mundane things like Defence classes-" The older man frowned with disapproval at his words, but said nothing, still staring out through the window. Still, Harry inwardly cringed at his clumsiness. "I just don't have the heart to Defence anymore. That match is my chance to do something I love. It's outcome will decide my future. I'm really happy... And I need more practice..." He trailed off, unnerved by the silence of the other man.
"A Seeker. You want to be a Seeker, Mr Potter" Riddle seemed to consider something before saying "How disappointing."
"Sir?" asked Harry, surprised.
"You are a natural duellist. With more education and practice you could become a great Auror. Your name could mean something, your deeds could save thousands." He looked at him and smirked slightly. "On the other hand, Quidditch will bring you fame, ardent fans and money. But it won't bring you power over them. And even your fame will be gone when you will no longer be fit to play. What happens then, Harry? When you are too old to play, forgotten and bankrupt?" He looked again away from him, suddenly dismissive. "What a waste that would be."
"Well, I love flying." the boy said, slightly angered with the dismissal. "I want to do something I love. After my career ends, I could still use my fame to work as a Flying teacher."
"If it makes you happy..." Riddle shrugged, but his dismissal was distorted by the focus with which he observed Potter's face.
Harry opened his mouth to happily confirm his words, but no sound could escape him. It would be a lie; pure, easily detectable lie. He wasn't happy with his career decision and Riddle knew it- or suspected it. If Harry lied now, his Professor will know it to be a lie and will punish him for his deception. But if he already knew that Harry wasn't truthful with him... It was too late to turn back, he decided and kept his mouth shut.
"I know that flying is not the only thing you love, Mr Potter." said Tom after a moment, his face not betraying his thoughts. He didn't comment on the sudden silence nor his lack of confirmation. Young Gryffindor didn't know if it was good or bad. "You also love duelling, isn't it so? You love proving your strength, your superiority over your opponent, your power. Everyone at Hogwarts remembers the Duelling Matches held at our school, especially the ones you fought against late Mr Malfoy."
Damn! Harry cursed in his mind. He could swear that man knew everything. That thought made him feel weak and sick. He started to sweat and was sure that at mention of Mal- his name he paled. Riddle was sure to notice. Shit!
"I like-" liked " duelling, but I chose Quidditch." Enough of this topic already! "Anyway, there are more Aurors than necessary in the time of peace, while there aren't enough good Seekers."
"But the times could change. World cannot live in peace forever, Mr Potter. That isn't how the world works. Even now, while Britain is save from war, there are people, Muggles or Wizards it doesn't matter, who are fighting with each other. We have lived in peace for so long that we see war as something foreign, something which occurs everywhere but here." There was a distant look in Tom Riddle's eyes as he shared his thoughts with his young student. His face remained stoic. "I'm afraid that we are all in for a big surprise. The war is on the horizon, whether we accept it or choose to remain blind. When the time comes, Aurors will be needed more than ever. Preparations must be made, for sooner or later, and I believe it will be the former rather than the latter, we will find ourselves at war."
Harry was tempted to ask: Why? Are you planning to start one soon?
But he was smarter than this. He was almost sorted to Slytherin.
And that surely counts for something, he thought as he nodded to Tom Riddle's words.
Harry Potter was born on October 31st in 1981. He lived with his parents and two siblings in Godric's Hollow. Martha Potter, two years younger than Harry, was a very lovely and polite young lady. She had dark hair and green eyes, just like Harry and Lily. She was very helpful around the house, always willing to help somebody. She often took care of Ben, the youngest Potter and the most troublesome one, who inherited not only his father's hair, but his eyes as well. Only one year younger than her, he still managed to turn the house upside down, usually encouraged by the eldest child. One could say it was a very merry house, especially when Sirius, Peter and Remus (respectively the eldest's, middle's and the youngest's Godfathers) dropped by for a visit.
Harry liked playing with his siblings, lovely Martha and mischief-maker Ben, but still prefer company of his Godfather. Sirius was very often seen around the house. His playboy manners hadn't changed over the years, which stabilized his bachelor status. It suited Harry well, because this way he spend more time with him. Sirius spoiled him, often saying that he had "way too much cash, being the sexiest and most famous Auror". Young Potters spent many afternoons listening to tales of his adventures as an Auror and a Marauder.
"Uncle Sirius' stories are waaay more interesting than yours" Ben once confessed to his father and Peter. It made them laugh, but uncle Sirius was proud of that praise.
James, father of the three, was an Auror, better-known as a member of Black-Potter-Pettigrew group. Even at the time of peace, there was always work for Aurors. He tried and mostly succeeded at leaving his work out of his house. It allowed him to be "a cool daddy" as his children declared. He took them to Quidditch matches and learned them how to fly. They seemed to have inherited his flying talent, to great amusement of Lily, who wasn't much of a flyer herself. James organized two Quidditch teams out of the Potters, Pettigrews, Weasleys and neighbours. He also regularly meet up with Remus, Peter and Sirius for the full moon nights, when Marauders once again ruled the world.
Harry loved and respected his father and always looked up to him, even more than to Sirius. It was because of him that he always wanted to become an Auror.
That was the house that Lily had to take care of. Between work and house, she found little time for herself.
"But my family is worth every moment I devote to them" she said to anyone who dared to imply that she needed some rest. Lily was a kind, lovely and cheerful mother, who loved her children and husband more than solving mysteries of Department of Mysteries as Unspeakable. Whatever she worked on, Potters could only wonder about. It didn't stop them from trying to guess:
"Are you working on a spell that could tidy my room?"
"There's already one, Ben. It's called Scourgify."
"So why can't we use it?"
"You are too small to use magic, Ben."
"Always too small..."
"Mum isn't creating new spells, she's working on some new, unknown magical creatures. Maybe some mix between unicorn and dragon? What a sweet creature that would be!"
"Yeah, and while you were hugging it, it would burn you to ash or maybe stab you with its deadly corn."
"Harry!"
"Right, like you have better idea."
"I do. I think Mum's working on a new weapon for the Aurors. Something like sword, but a lot cooler."
"And that's your clever idea?"
"It sure beats yours."
"No, it doesn't"
"Yes, it does-"
"What do you think, Daddy?" Little Ben used this moment to ask his question, stopping the other two from arguing as they listened curiously.
"Well, I think even if by some miracle we found out what your Mummy is working on, I'm sure she wouldn't tell us we're right" said James, earning an amused gaze of Lily. She stayed quiet for the whole conversation, which made James wonder if there was some curse put on every worker of DoM to make them mute when someone nearby was discussing their work. "But I think she's working on a potion."
"A potion?" There was evident disappointment in the voices of three Potters.
"Yes. Your mother is a great at potions and that's my guess."
"I also guess it's a potion since you work with Snivellus again" he added to her late at night, when they were alone in their bedroom.
"His name is Severus" Lily calmly answered, a curious look on her face. "And why do you think I work with Sev?"
"You spent a lot of time in front of the mirror every morning. I mean, more time than usual." He dodged the pillow Lily threw at him.
"Are you jealous?" she asked seriously. He answered in the same tone of voice.
"No" he said with certainty. "No. I trust you. And I know he lost his chance long ago."
Lily smiled and kissed him lightly. He kissed her back.
"So, why do you spent so much time in front of the mirror when you're not planning on taking him as your lover?"
She smiled, knowing his curiosity knew no end.
"To make him see what he lost" she whispered, her heart still filled with longing for her old friend.
For no matter how much Severus and her tried to mend the broken bonds of friendship, nothing could repair the damage the Dark Mark on his left forearm had done.
End of chapter one
A/N: Here, it's done! Let me know what you think. And don't worry if you're confused right know - next chapter(s) will explain it all.