Disclaimer: I don't own anything connected to Harry Potter. Only the idea of such a conversation is mine.

A/N: I'd enjoy a short review, even if just whether you enjoyed what I wrote or not :)

A tall, blonde woman entered the library silently. In the dim light, among the full, decorative bookstands she could see her younger – her only now, she had to remind herself – son. He was sitting at the only table, with many books open and parchments full of hand-written notes. Right now he was comparing texts in two books, throwing glances at one of the parchments, muttering something every now and then. At some point he seemed to lose patience and threw the closest book away.

'Is that a way to treat books?' – she asked in a low voice. The sudden sound startled the adolescent; he had been so absorbed that he never noticed that he was no longer alone.

'I'm sorry Mother.' – he answered while standing up and giving his mother a small bow, then drew her another chair. 'I won't repeat that.'

With a slight laugh 'Oh, of course, until the next time you don't agree with what you found. And what was it this time, that shortened your temper so? Are your new duties not to your liking?'

'Not at all, even if I would've preferred…' – he stopped at a sharp look. It was useless to hope for something that couldn't be changed. His brother made his choices. Now it was up to him to uphold the duties and responsibilities of being an heir, even if he never wished for them. 'That's not what I was reading about. Last month at Uncle Cygnus' I talked with Bella.'

'About the Dark Lord?'

'Yes. She was praising his vision, power, looks …. heritage '. A moment of silence with mother and son looking at each other.

'You seem to be disturbed by that.'

'Not exactly. Bella claimed he is Slytherin's Heir. But, Mother, it doesn't make sense!'

'Is that so? There are plenty accounts of the Dark Lord speaking and commanding snakes. Don't you believe that to be a definite proof?'

'I'm not sure. I started researching because I was curious as to who is he, and which branch is he descended from, and that's where it stops making sense.'

'How so?' – was the question, with attentive eyes set on her son. She knew that Regulus had always been a conscientious researcher, and if he claimed that something didn't fit, then it was a very real possibility. It wouldn't stand for her and her husband to continue subtly supporting the man financially and politically, as well as with their following among the higher spheres if he turned out to be a fraud.

'I looked in all accounts of any Slytherin descendants, all family trees connected to him and to the surviving pureblood families. There is only one direct enough line, but it ended with the Gaunts.'

'The Gaunts… I remember hearing of them during my childhood. It was distasteful how low they fell. I never heard what happened to them afterwards.'

'Yes, two siblings; Morfin and Merope. Morfin died childless in Azkaban during Grindelwald's reign'

'What about the sister?' – asked Walburga with distaste.

'She died in 1926. I didn't find any mentions of how or where.'

'Could she have married into another pureblood family and had children? Combining her blood with another strong bloodline might've awakened Slytherin's gifts in a descendant'

The young man grimaced. 'Not unless it required mixing with mud'.

'What?' – That was the first moment that her voice lost its even tone. 'She had a child with a Mudblood?'

'Worse. He wasn't even slightly magical. A Thomas Riddle, some muggle. I have no idea how could she have dared dirty her noble blood that way. They had a son, named after the father. Unless he is the Dark Lord which is preposterous since that'd make him a half-blood, then the Dark Lord is lying about his heritage. Mother?'

Walburga was too busy thinking to respond to her son. For a few minutes none spoke. At last she jerked upright, whispering – 'Riddle… yes, that fits so well… that upstart… he always thought he could get more than he deserved.'

Just before leaving the library, she looked back and spoke to her son. 'You did well son, but I must speak to your father now. You should leave this matter and go back to your studies. I'll question you tomorrow instead of tonight. Your father and I need to make a visit to my dear brother this evening. Yes… maybe I should suggest they invite their lovely daughters as well…'

And she was gone. Bewildered Regulus kept looking after her for some time, but since she never came back he sent all the books to their places and summoned a book on current alliances between Blacks and other families. Having satisfied his curiosity with all he could find he stopped thinking about that riddle.

The next few months he was so busy with his studies at Hogwarts once summer ended and his own studies into his new role in the family that it wasn't until Yule that he started noticing that there didn't seem to be any mentions of the Dark Lord. The one time he tried asking his cousin Bella, she got a dark look, and forbid him to mention that person in front of her.

Even years later, he never really realized that a young boy's inquisitive spirit and curiosity destroyed the rise of the one, who might have been called in another reality the worst Dark Lord in history. It seemed that the proud and powerful purebloods weren't happy about being lied to. No outsiders ever discovered what happened to the one who wished to rule over them all. Only Albus Dumbledore never conceded defeat, until he died years later in an unknown location on one of his many trips researching Tom Riddle's past. Nobody seemed surprised when he didn't come back. Everybody believed him to be senile and obsessed by his notion of a man who might or might not have once had ambitions of plunging Britain into an Age of Darkness.