Disclaimer : I own nothing. At least, very little.
He called him Father
By Goblet of Fire
Dumbledore was sitting in his office, the same one he'd been having for now 80 years. Nothing had really changed, except that the books now covered one full side of the wall. A magnificent flaming red and golden phoenix was seated on a wooden perch. The old Transfiguration teacher was at his desk, dealing with a difficult case. Not difficult. It seemed quite clear, but even with the evidence against him, Rubeus Hagrid wasn't exactly the kind of people you'll think is the Heir to Salazar Slytherin. After all, he was a Gryffindor, wasn't he ?
He rubbed his eyes. From now on, one single little error could simply be the end of Hogwarts. And he would be the responsible one. He was already responsible for so much things, would he take that last blow ?
- Rubeus Hagrid, once and for all, did you open that Chamber of Secrets ?
The enormous sized thirteen years old scared looking student in front of him just snuggled up a little bit more on his chair.
- No, Professeur, I swear I didn't !
A smirk was heard from a somber corner in the room. A dark-haired teen showed up, with a look of amused disdain on his face.
- Don't forget there is a eyewitness, Proffesor. Me.
- Tom Marvolo Riddle. This is not simple House rivalty we're talking about. The descision I actually have to make may be life treathening. Do-you-understand-this ?
The young Slytherin's stony gray eyes grew cold, despiseful. He was good at hidding his feelings. But if he wasn't the confused teacher would have seen his immense respect for the old powerful wizard. Respect which almost touched fear …
- Just ask him where he got that … beast.
Hagrid lowered his eyes. He really couldn't answer that question ! Dumbledore was unsure what to believe, and knew even less what to do. He took his half-moon spectacles off and cleaned them energically. Hoping that they would help him see clearer in the mist.
- Rubeus …
- What ! Dumbledore, you haven't expulsed him yet ?
Fleetcher had burst into the room, yelling and grabed Hagrid's arm. The latter shot his HouseHead a pleading look :
- Professor, I didn't …
- Fleetcher, I'm not sure …
- What ? Now you're defending him ? He's a danger for the wizarding community ! Students have been killed ! And you want to spare him ? Especially with all this thing about Grindelwalds lately ! (to Hagrid) Give me your wand.
The student reluctantely handed his wand to the Headmaster. He took it and snatched it on his knee. Little sparks flew from the crack and the wand fell to floor.
- Rubeus Hagrid, you are expelled from the wizarding community. You are not to use any magic since now, and will live as a Muggle for the rest of your life. You'll leave this school tonight. You may leave now.
Hagrid was bewildered. Slowly, he picked up the remains of his wand and headed out the office. Willow wood, 13 inches, with a dragon's fang inside it. Fleetcher smiled satisfactorly and left, closing the door behind him.
Dumbledore covered his face with his hands. It was done. He wasn't sure it had been the right thing to do. Rubeus or Riddle ? Rubeus was so harmless looking. And Riddle was the model student, powerful and all. Rubeus or Riddle.
Tom Marvolo Riddle sneered. Thank you, poor old dumb Fleetcher. He stood there for a moment, unbelieving of the fact that he'd made it ! How could the Headmaster be so blind ! Hagrid, Heir to Slytherin ? Ha. His Transfiguration teacher was right, it wasn't only a House rivalty problem. It was his own life he was trying to save.
- Riddle, you're still there ? You may leave now.
Tom didn't budge. He had one more question to ask. He had to know.
- Professor, you don't believe me, do you ?
Dumbledore sighed.
- I don't know what to believe, Riddle.
Tom nodded, and walked out of the office. Now, he knew. He had to be very careful.
The old man sunk back in his chair. He had been much too stressed lately. That Chamber of Secrets thing, which he still could not understand. And it bothered him, because somehow he knew the HeadMaster had been wrong. But if Riddle had lied then why would he have done that ? Because he is the Heir … No ! There was no way that could be true. Riddle would never have killed anybody. But ...
Arghhh. Too confusing.
The room was darkening every second by now. He got up to look throught his window, from which he had a wonderful view of the Hogwarts grounds. The soft pale snow had fallen all day, but has now stopped. The nacked trees wore a white gown, and the train was spreading all over.The faint moon gleam gave the whole thing a slightly supernatural apparence. Dumbledore remembered. He could well picture himself running in the snow, falling, standing, running for more than his life. Panicked. Gone back to find that he had been too late. That he had failed everything he had.
The pain from this day remained. And the hatred had too. Althought now all it did was boil in his heart. He had learned never to show any strong emotion. Not that he didn't have any.
Grindelwalds, for exemple. That only name could make him suffer the martyr. In those times, all he would think of was revenge. He had waited over eighty years now, and Grindelwalds always had been too much of a coward to show up, had always tricked him into one of his DeathEaters' trap.
How much he hated him. But perhaps not as much as he hated himself. He had not been there for them when they needed him most. He gazed up at the stars, asking himself if it was really true that when a person dies, is being forgotten, a star dies with him. He wondered if one of the stars could be Lucie. Of course she couldn't have gone out, someone still remembered her … He wished that she was that one, the brightest of all. Glittering, winking. It's hard to realise how much you loved something untill you've lost it forever.
He stared for a moment, then turned back to his desk, sat, and began to sort his papers out. Not noticing that the star, or rather the planet he'd been gazing at was Mars, the planet of war. This battle lasts since the world is the word, and will last till the sun goes out.
------------------------------------------------- One year later -------------------------------------------
- You may leave, miss Figg.
Dumbledore sat in his office, sighing. Grindelwalds was now one week from attacking Hogwarts. They, teachers, have been planning the battle for months, and the DADA lessons have been moved to two hours every day. Fleetcher have gone to the Ministry to ask for the help of some Aurors. Of course Moody was coming to help. Today, one of the hardest part had been left for him to do. Chose the students which were to stay and fight. The others, of course, would be sent home, for they did not want a massacre.
Nadine Rochewy was very good, Andy and Davy Guestraw were too. All three Gryffindors. Arabella Figg, a Ravenclaw, was very powerful. George and John River were not bad either, but they were only third years, he would never ask children so young to devote their lives.
And then, they would need their parents' agreement. Some would want
to stay, some would prefer to choose the way home. But he would understand
them. They had life in front of them. Anyway, to which ones will he ask
to risk their life for a noble deed ? If they died, whose fault would it
be ? Grindelwalds, or, his ? He sighed. Will he always have to live
with the guilt ?
But now, he had tried them all. They all have been afraid.
And of course, there was Tom Riddle.
Here was the problem. He was certainely the most powerful of all, and he didn't care about life. But he was a Slytherin. And he probably was the Heir. Could anyone trust him ? Would he dare endanger him so close to the Dark Spirit ?
- You asked to see me, Professor ?
Well, here he was. And there we go. He tried to put it as dry and cut as possible.
- Mr. Riddle, you probably know about the situation Hogwarts is in already. Grindelwalds is about to attack and we need help. As much as possible. So, I'm asking you, which Side are you a follower of ?
Tom Riddle didn't know. Till now, he had never thought of this. For him, he was a Slytherin, so naturally Evil. But, if he could choose, which way ?
He had no more parents left to be proud of him either way. Oh yes, he had one, but he wouldn't want to think about him. No one would cry over him if he died. No one was there to give him any advice, and no one would be there to smile broadly when he'll emerge winner out of a Duel, saying proudly : "This is my son."
No one he was willing to please.
But would he turn to the Dark Side only because he had … already killed ? No, that would be stupid. After all, he didn't kill them, the Basilik did. But did that allow him to say : "I'm innocent." ?
Doubt.
- I understand perfectly if you don't want to, no need to risk your
life if you think you're not ready.
By saying this Dumbledore only meant to be recomforting, to say that it was OK if he didn't want to. But if Tom Riddle was Evil, if he was sly, if he was unthruthworthy, most of all he was proud. Couldn't bear people to think he was feeble and a coward. Couldn't bear people to think he was afraid. Couldn't bear people to think that he wasn't powerful enough to do anything he wanted to. He decided to forget his past.
- Professor, I'll stay and fight. I swear eternal devotion to the Light Side.
The smile Dumbledore gave him was worth the sacrifice.
For the following week, Tom Riddle did not go to class. Everyday, Dumbledore met him at the edge of the Forbidden Forest and he trained him. He was taught to Apparate. He was taught more spells and curses Prof. Flitckwick ever knew, and he mastered more Charms any student ever had before him. He was taught the rules of a proper Duel, and how to break free of the Unforgivables. He was taught to inflige pain, and to kill. Everyday, spells, counterspells, charms and curses flew in the air from dawn to sunset.
Dumbledore could see the inner power emane from the young wizard. He could master a spell the second or the third time he tried, and in one week he learned more than anyone would do in one month. He knew that if Riddle turned to the Dark Side, it would be the end of Hogwarts. The Dark Spirit would probably try to enter him, and then they would see if the boy's aura was strong enough.
Now he almost regretted having let Tom in this battle. What if he didn't resist ?
The last day before the battle, Tom paced down the empty corridors happily. All the other students have been sent home, and he had the whole castle for himself. If he didn't meet with one of the teachers of course. But his happiness didn't come from this feeling of domination. It was something else, something deeper. Something he felt for the first time.
For the last week, Dumbledore had spent all his time with him. He had traited him almost fatherly. That was something Tom never experienced. And tomorrow, he was going to prove him he was right to have faith in him. He will, at last, make someone proud of him.
-------------------------------------------- In Dumbledore's office -------------------------------------
- I've been waiting for this moment for years, Alastor. You can not understand how I'm feeling.
- Yes. Grindelwalds won't even understand what's happening to him.
Dumbledore shook his head.
- Grindelwalds is already dead. You know that. Moody nooded. The problem is that if I kill him, then the spririt would go and find someone else. And the cycle never ends … And how am I supposed to kill a spirit ?
- Albus, you don't have to. Don't believe everything always rests on your shoulder, you don't need to save the world if you don't feel capable to do it.
Dumbledore stayed silent.
- One day, one will come, destined. He'll finish up what you've already begun.
Dumbledore smiled. His friend was right. What he was destined to do was train young wizards, make them powerful enough to resist and fight for their lives, and maybe for, one day, victory.
This night, no one slept at Hogwarts. They all were grouped in the Great Hall, where a majestous fire had been lit. Soft whispers broke the silence, and they were all waiting anxiously for daylight. The last dawn slowly setted for some of them, as high in the sky, an invisible hand was weighing their lives on the golden scales of fate.
Tom swept his glare across the room. The majority of the staff was there, except for the nurse and the Divination teacher who were to take care of the healing. Every one was wrapped in somber cloaks, clutching their wands in their hands, like hanging to dear life.
Suddendly, the front door suffered a great shock. The windows glass shattered. The battle had begun.
Tom got nearer to Dumbledore.
Another shock made the castle shake on its base. Instinctivly, everybody thightened the ranks.
- Tom, whatever happens, remember, don't let them take you alive.
Tom looked up at the old Master's face. All emotions seemed to have disaspeared, leaving only a cold mask of hatred. He drew energy and faith from this image of unmovability. His own face grew resolute, but the fear inside him gave strange little twitches in the stomach.
A third shock blew the front door wide open. Hooded figures entered the room, wands drawn out of their mantel, and slowly encircled them.
Dumbledore and Moody were back to back, each facing one front of the battle. Tom looked, and saw the courage. United in everything. A moment during, he wished he could be as brave as them. The battle was engaged now, but no one was hurt yet. Tom stayed by the two friends' side, sometimes blocking a curse for them, sometimes driving a too dangerous adversary away.
But at one moment, something snapped into him. Was it this way he was going to fight ? Staying in the two other men's shadow ? No. If he will die, he'll die as a hero. He was going to fly with his own wings.
He touched Dumbledore's shoulder.
- What ? The teacher snapped, not deveing his eyes from his enemies.
Tom bowed low.
- Goodbye, Father. He said, and ran away to the middle of the fight.
Dumbledore continued to shot spells and counter-spells, to dodge absent-mindedly. The boy just called him father ! That … that made all his projects go wrong. He tought that if he died, no one will after all cry for him, except maybe Moody. Which allowed him to dispose of his life. But he knew how much Tom had suffered from having no family, and how solemnly he declared once that he didn't need any. He wasn't allowed to die, to fail again …
It also reminded him of the time he had been a father. And new hatred came up his vein, telling him to fight and to kill.
- AAAAAHHH !
The scream echoed sinisterely in his head. He turned quickly around, to see Moody rolling on the floor with pain, being hit by the Cruciatus curse, a Death Eater bent over him. With a Disarming spell he showed the Dark Follower away, and took his hurt friend to the infirmary, stepping over some corpses along the way.
When he returned to the battle ground, he immediately spotted a hurt Charms Master, facing two Death Eaters. He rushed to his side, body-blinded one of them, and put a Veritas curse on the other.
- Where is your Master ?
- My Master is outside, waiting for you to come.
Dumbledore body-blinded him too, and ran to the door. On the corner of his eye he caught sight of Fleetcher falling to the ground, and the DADA Master treathening two wandless Death Eaters.
The moment he crossed the doorway he saw a green light flying towards him, which he fortunaely dodged in time. A cruel laughter echoed in the fresh morning air. Something was not right. Apart from the fact that nothing was going right. It was something else.
- Dark Lord, show your face up if you dare !
Dumbledore was threatening empty air with his wand, turning round, not knowing which side to face. He heard an evil chuckle behind his back.
- Here I am, Albus. You're refering to me as "Lord" ? How paradoxical.
Dumbledore turned round, and faced the man he'd been waiting to achieve all his life during. Or, was it a man ?
- How else should I call you ?
His eyes narrowed with fury. Hatred. The hooded figure laughed a high-pitched lauch.
- Call me Grindelwalds. We're equals, aren't we ?
- But you're not Grindelwalds.
The evil wizard seemed to think a while, then responded.
- No, you're right. I'm not Grindelwalds. Crucio !
Luckily Dumbledore had his wand drawn out, and shouted the counter-spell.
Curse. Counter-spell. Curse. Counter-spell. Curse. Counter-spell. Curse. Counter-spell. Curse. Counter-spell. Avadra Kedavra. Dodge.
The deadly spell hit the castle's wall instead. A piece of rock was blown up. A desarming spell missed its aim, and ended up setting a tree in fire.
But in Dumbledore's mind thoughts were crashing one another. Should he do it ? Would he dare kill someone for the first time ? My, this was the "thing" that killed his family he was talking about ! He ruined his life ! But did that allow him ? Yes. Would he regret his move afterwards ? No.
- Avadra Kedavra !
For the first time, the words crossed his lips. The result was a green flash from his wand tip. And the soft damp grass being hit by a corpse.Dumbledore bent over him to check if he was really dead. Oh, how many times had he pictured this action in his mind ! But never, such bliss had surrounded him. His duty was done.
Then Dumbledore made out what was the problem. The little thing that wasn't right. The usual morning bird-chirping was missing.
When it saw that Grindelwalds' body was dead, the Dark Spirit rose from the corpse and infiltrated into the building. Looking for the powerful one, who was yet feeble enough to be suitable.
Dumbledore rushed back in the hall, to check on the others.
Tom Riddle was fighting two Death Eaters, playing with them like the cat would play with a mouse. It somehow amused him to see that he had hold of their life. He finished them easily. The battle was almost won now, there were only few Death Eaters left.
Suddendly, he didn't know what was coming upon him. It was a feeling of unlimited power, like he could dominate the world. But it was not warm and rassuring like the one he had when Dumbledore was teaching him, it was as cold and bitter as the winter north-wind. He wasn't controlling his body anymore. He told his legs to run, he told his lips to yell, he told his arm to raise a wand, but none of them did obey. He just had the time to think "What's that ?" before sinking to the floor.
Lord Voldemort opened his eyes. He was lying on the ground. He looked around him, and smiled. It had succeded.
- Tom, are you OK ?
The Dark Lord turned to see Dumbledore running towards him. He remembered. This was the man who killed his previous self. His gray eyes narrowed coldly as he stood up. Unexpectantely, he shout a full body-blind spell to the old wizard, who was freezed to the spot. He ran away. Cursing under his breath. Why wasn't he able to think of a more harmful spell ? Instead of a simple body blind ?
What Lord Voldemort didn't realise was that somewhere, the old Tom was still there. The bond could not be broken so easily. Tom would always be there.
------------------------------------------ Several years later --------------------------------------------
Dumbledore sat in his Headmaster office, petting Fawkes who had just brought him the newest Daily Prophet. The head line said :
You-know-who, He-who-must-not-be-named, The Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle, makes more victims. Last night …
Dumbledore shock his head and sighed. He grabed a quill, and slowly crossed out the name Tom Marvolo Riddle. Tom was not a murderer. Tom was the young man he had trained himself. Who swore never to be a Dark follower.
Tom was the boy who called him Father.
Author's note : YYYEEESSS !!! Done ! 9 pages, and 3799 words ! It's
my longest fic ! It makes one week I'm working on this ! Yesterday I have
been scared to death, because my computer somehow bugged and almost erased
the eight pages I had written till then ! But luckily I managed to save
them. It didn't turn out quite as I expected, it is now a serie about the
importans events in Dumbledore's life. I think there'll be a sequel with
Lily and James, maybe called "He hadn't been there for them". If you liked
this one and the previous, please watch out for it ! REVIEW !