Prologue
An interesting life reads like a story. A play, if you want to be sophisticated. Theatre if you wish to sound professional. I am a professional. And as a professional, I'm well-aware that every quality play needs a villain. Now I know what you are going to say. You're leaning back on your chair, reading the life story that I have intricately sewn for you, and are now nodding your head knowingly. You're smiling to yourself, because you already can see this one coming. Well I applaud you on your astute foreshadowing skills. But I assure you: I am not the villain, and these life stories hardly feature myself. I fancy myself the director behind the scenes, and I solemnly swear that you will enjoy the show if I have anything to do about it.
I suppose this all started somewhere back in my youth. As it does with most people. And most stories. But this story wasn't about me. It never is. This particular story was about a man who went by the name Gellert Grindelwald. And doesn't it sound ominous when you phrase it like that? That's because it's all in the phrasing. Which is why I stuffed my first build-a-bear dark lord with the best catch phrase of all: For the Greater Good. I even helped him discover the Elder Wand. Well, I suppose I should be honest here: He was supposed to find all of the hallows with the information I gave him. But hey, they can't all be winners. And well, no one's first creation is ever their best work… The point is, my first build-a-bear had a very successful career as a villain. He made lots of enemies and killed hundreds of muggles. It's not his fault that Hitler stole his glory. Bad timing. Whatever. It happens. They call it World War two for a reason. It's happened before.
So anyways. Once I realized Grindelwald was a soon-to-be has-been, it was just a matter of timing. And that time happened to be when my second prodigy, Tom Marvolo Riddle, had just graduated Hogwarts. So naturally, I eliminated the competition and opened up the way for the up-and-coming dark lord to take the stage. May I present you with the the 1940's. Or was it the 1950's? Forgive an old man, but I've spent much time imposing at my brother's bar, trying to forget the disasters of my failed build-a-bears. Lucky for me, my brother tolerates my presence under the pseudo-belief that I drink to drown the guilt over our sister's death. Why? I have no idea. It was an accident, jeez. One stray Avada Kedavra, and suddenly I'm the bad guy. Not Gellert Frickin Grindelwald. Me. I take it as a slap in the face to my work when the actual bad-guy that I worked so hard to create is completely overlooked in favor of the man behind the curtain. And yet you don't see me avoiding the Hogshead because of something that happened decades ago. That's right. I am perfectly content with putting aside my grievances with my family and accepting a family discount at my brother's bar. Now if only I could get my brother to see it the same way. Hmm… So where was I? Oh right! Tom Marvolo Riddle.
Can we take a moment to reflect on how stupid of a name Tom Marvolo Riddle is? A short common name paired with a mouthful of an outdated one. And then there's 'Riddle'. Sounds like someone trying too hard to be aloof and mysterious… So now that we've established how stupid of a name Tom Marvolo Riddle is, you will now understand why I tortured Tommy-boy with it at every point that I could. He'd grow resentful of the teasing, feel the need to prove himself above it, yadee-yadee-yah, we have a successful dark lord.
Well, I suppose you're wondering why I chose Tom Riddle as my second build-a-bear dark lord in the first place. It so happens that I was the one to first introduce young Tommy-boy to the wizarding world. Before I met Tom, I learned about him through one of the matrons at the orphanage. And even without meeting him, I could just tell that he had so much potential. Of course I played it cool. But wow! Stealing and injuring children at a young age. I just knew this boy would grow up to be a great dark lord.
But like I said, I went with the aloof strategy. The distant father that you try so hard to please that you can't. I combined this with the philosophy that: "The way you treat people is the way you become." By being constantly wary and suspicious of Riddle's dark nature at Hogwarts, I ensured that he never forgot his beginnings. And for the cherry on top: I never gave Riddle the benefit of the doubt. Thus employing the thought that: If I'm going to be accused for it anyways, I might as well do it.
Riddle turned out to be a fine dark lord. Or shall I call him Lord Voldemort? Okay, I know what you're thinking. He got killed by a baby… But the thing is… I meant for that to happen. No really, I did. I staged Trelawney, the prophecy, the accidental horcrux, everything. I did it all on purpose. Really I did. Why, you ask? Well, I don't see how that's relevant. The point is that I created my third prodigy. The greatest of all. Endowed with a piece of the soul of his predecessor. Famous with a following without even trying. An orphan with an abusive childhood. Yes, my third build-a-bear will be the greatest most terrible Dark Lord of all. Even Ollivander said so… sort of.
From the critically-acclaimed director who brought you Gellert Grindelwald and Lord Voldemort. Wizarding world, watch out. Because this fall, Harry Potter will be coming to Hogwarts.