AN: This is a slightly updated version of the prologue. As you read this I am working diligently on the remainder of the story. And I hope to begin posting around the new year. Enjoy.
PROLOGUE
If there was one thing Tom Riddle knew, it was his superiority. Despite being of no wealth or status, he had intelligence. Intelligence far greater than possessed by those around him. His fellow orphans at Wool's couldn't tell their head from their ass, the adults were even worse, and then came the magicals.
When Tom discovered he was a wizard, he was only slightly surprised, he had always been able to do strange things, but he had never imagined that there would be a whole secret society of beings possessing magic. He quickly adapted, and he found that wizards and witches were just as slow as muggles (Tom found the term muggle quite acceptable for those without magic; it showed just how little they were worth). While it was unpleasant being considered a mudblood (another term he found acceptable), he knew that he was not, and it was only a matter of time before he proved it. Throughout his first five years at Hogwarts, he took as much money as he could from pickpocketing, both muggles and magicals.
By the end of his fifth year, he had acquired quite the sum of money, and was able to get an inheritance test at Gringotts. He greatly enjoyed his discovery of his Slytherin ancestry, he always suspected (as only those descended from Slytherin could speak Parseltongue), but having it confirmed made the victory only sweeter. At that time he took his place as Lord of the House of Slytherin, and found that the Slytherin vault contained quite the sum of money, making him one of the richest magicals in the Wizarding World.
Through that inheritance test, Tom discovered the name of his living family members, his father, paternal grandparents, and his maternal uncle all lived. He quickly changed the status of the first three, and framed the fourth. He also fashioned a more… appropriate name for himself, Lord Voldemort. Putting the words I am in front of the new name, turned it into an anagram of his given name. You could say that the two names represented who he was, and who he is.
With his newly acquired wealth, status, and name, he returned to Hogwarts, for his sixth year. A year in which he began recruiting, slowly, but surely, the Death Eaters rose, ready to take back their world from the mudbloods who wished its traditions abolished.
-BREAK-
With his Hogwarts years over, his position at Borgin and Burkes terminated, and his application to teach at his Alma Mater rejected, Voldemort decided to travel. He and his most loyal follower, Abraxas Malfoy, from 1950, to 1953 he and Abraxas traveled the world, visiting ancient Magical civilizations and learning much. However early in the year 1953, Abraxas learned of his father's passing, and returned to England to take the position of Lord Malfoy, he married, and quickly had a child, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy. Voldemort continued his travels until 1965, having been joined by another follower of his, Antonin Dolohov.
-BREAK-
On Halloween, 1965, Voldemort returned to England, and using symbols he had given his followers, he called them to his deceased father's mansion. Over a hundred pure and half-blooded wizards met him, donned in black robes, and white masks. Included in those hundred people, were his most loyal, Abraxas Malfoy, Antonin Dolohov, James Avery, Radolph Lestrange, Theodore Nott, Alexander Rosier, and Harrison Mulciber.
Voldemort stood tall, his handsome features hidden behind a large hood on his black robes, his followers knelt before him as he spoke:
"Welcome my friends! Welcome Death Eaters! On this glorious Samhain, we gather to take the first step on a long path that rests before us! Today, we gather to take back our world from the filth that wishes to destroy our traditions, pollute our society, and then make us out as the evil ones. Today, we shall attack Diagon Alley! We will show them that not everyone is so content to sit back, and watch our culture be destroyed by those worthless mudbloods. Join me, as I take the first step towards freedom of the Wizarding World!"
The Death Eaters stood as one, and adopted relaxed stances, arms held tightly behind their straightened backs. Voldemort smirked inwardly, wizards were so easy to control. Of course, he did intend to rid the country of as many mudbloods as possible, but he would show mercy to those willing to accept wizarding tradition. This idea of purity was a mean to an end, what he truly wanted was power, and by using the screen of blood purity, he could have hundreds of wizards and witches rally to his cause. Kill some mudbloods, flex some magical muscle, and eventually the wizarding world would be under his command.
"There are one-hundred and five of you, Malfoy, Dolohov, Avery, Lestrange, Nott, Rosier, and Mulciber shall come with me, leaving ninety-eight. The rest of you shall split into fourteen seven man squads. You all know your targets, and you all know when to attack. Let us leave."
With that, one-hundred and six wizards disapparated intent on the destruction of Diagon Alley.
-BREAK-
Diagon Alley was a bright and lively street, shops lined both sides of the half mile stretch. From the very beginning, marked by The Leaky Cauldron, to the very end marked by Gringotts and the break into the financial, residential, and Knockturn alleys. While not nearly as populated as during the weeks leading up to the first days of classes at Hogwarts, the Alley still held hundreds of products wizards and witches needed on a daily basis and as such one could always find a few hundred or even a thousand witches and wizards roaming the Alley.
As the people of the Wizarding World wandered around Diagon Alley, they worried about nothing, feeling safe with the patrolling aurors. Roughly fifty of the magical police roamed the street. The alley was alive with the hustle and bustle of the wizarding world, children, who weren't quite old enough for Hogwarts, ran around quidditch stores, prank and sweets shops, and Fortescue's, their parents made their way in and out of robes shops, apothecaries, and butchers stores. There was little noise besides the pleasant laughter of children and the moderately volumed meetings of old friends, shoppers, and the like. That is, until the sharp cracks of one-hundred wizards apparating directly into the alley echoed around like a sonic boom. Within moments, light exploded across the alley, as the black robed, white masked figures began shouting the darkest of curses, causing mass hysteria.
The aurors on guard however, many still being in service from the time of Grindelwald, responded quickly, throwing high powered shields between the Death Eaters and the civilians. They cast their own curses, and backed the robed wizards into a corner, putting them on the defensive.
Within moments, many of the dark forces were cut down, and the cold voice of Voldemort shouted out "MORSMORDRE! RETREAT! COME MY DEATH EATERS, YOUR LORD VOLDEMORT COMMANDS YOU TO RETREAT!"
At once, the black robed wizards disapparated, and in an instant, the alley was quiet, except for the heavy breathing of the aurors, as they began to help the civilians, and arrest surviving Death Eaters.
In all, nine magicals were killed, including one goblin and one house elf, and seven were injured. Forty-two of the so called "Death Eaters" were dead, and an additional eleven were too wounded to have apparated away.
Magical Britain laughed at the wannabe dark legion. In a world where most living people remembered the time of Grindelwald, an attack in which less than ten were killed, and nearly half the attacking force died with them, allowed no one to fear the new dark order. The secret nation looked at Albus Dumbledore (Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot, British Delegate to the International Confederation of Wizards, and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry) to end this group of Dark Wizards. After all, he had defeated Grindelwald, surely he could destroy a weaker dark lord.
-BREAK-
Voldemort sat quietly on his throne, inwardly raging at his failed attack. He awaited Abraxas, who would give him report to him the response of the ministry. Roughly six hours after the attack, and five after Abraxas and the other members of Voldemort's inner circle had been called to the Wizengamot, the man returned, and knelt before him.
"Abraxas, my friend, how many did we lose in the attack?"
Abraxas shuffled slightly, not looking forward to informing his master of the numbers. While the man was most definitely sane, and would never injure his followers for no reason, he was difficult to deal with when angered.
"My lord, forty-two men are dead, and an additional eleven were captured. All of the captured are in cells in Azkaban, awaiting the Kiss."
Voldemort took a deep breath, and asked his next question.
"How many did we kill?"
"Aurors, or civilians my lord?"
"Both."
"Seven civilians were killed, another seven wounded. In addition one goblin and one house elf were killed in the crossfire. No aurors were killed."
Voldemort sighed and dropped his head to his hands.
"Abraxas, call the other six in."
"Of course my lord."
Soon, the full inner circle of Death Eaters stood before Voldemort, and he spoke to them as a group.
"My friends, we have been severely weakened. Nearly half our forces have been decimated. Mulciber, Lestrange, and Dolohov, begin preparations for the ritual, find me one-hundred virgins, who will turn seventeen on Samhain night, four years from now. Malfoy, Nott, Avery, and Rosier, get others to join. I want everyone, get Black, Crabbe, Goyle, Gibbon, Rowle, Macnair, Yaxley, Wilkes, Travers, Sewlyn, Jugson, Rookwood, Carrow, get all of them. For too long they have said maybe, it is time for them to join or die. Get others too. Smaller families, half-bloods will work. We need more men. We will attack again in five years, exactly one year after the ritual is performed. Go, now."
-BREAK-
Albus Dumbledore was, for all intents and purposes, your typical wizard. The only thing that truly seperated him from others, were his above average intelligence and magical stores. While he did have great power and status in the wizarding world, there were hundreds of old wizarding families, and many had as much, or even more power than he. His title of Headmaster, did not bring any actual political power; sure many trusted him more, as he was responsible for the safety and education of nearly a thousand young witches and wizards, but it did not give him a vote on the Wizengamot. His title of British Delegate to the ICW gave him little standing, as that title came with his title of Supreme Mugwump, which only gave him one additional vote. The title of Supreme Mugwump (besides giving him one extra vote) did little, he was more or less a judge in a jury court, all he did was keep order. That one vote did give him four total, but considering that most Wizengamot lords had 5, he was still not all too powerful.
His political power came from his actions; he had killed (at least the wizarding world thought he did) his old friend, and lover, Gellert Grindelwald. For saving them from the Dark Lord, the wizarding world began to look at him as the Lord of The Light. This was the title that gave him standing; the Wizarding World began to look to him for help with their problems, and Albus relished it.
Albus, like any Slytherin (very few knew of his true house; most believed him to have been a Gryffindor), wanted power. However, he had never been a very violent person. He would of course kill when need be, and he was no stranger to dueling, but he far preferred diplomacy to might. And when people knew you could kill them with little to no trouble, diplomacy worked even better. His destroying of the dark lord had launched him into the spotlight as more than just an old teacher. It made him someone to be looked up to, to be respected. When he ran for the title of Supreme Mugwump, a year after he destroyed Grindelwald, he won with the vote of ninety-nine percent of the Wizengamot; and he knew that if he ever desired to leave his post at Hogwarts, he could easily be elected Minister.
But he was content with the power he had. People looked up to him, they respected his opinion, and he got to spend nine months of the year helping children grow into their future roles in making Wizarding society run. What more could an old teacher ask for?
The only thing that worried him was this new Dark Lord. If you took a look at the history of wizards, there would always be a dark lord or two running around, most were easy to put down: they and their few followers would randomly attack someone or something and would be killed by aurors. Dark Lords like Grindelwald differed; while they would begin like any other dark lord, they would eventually attack under a banner of some political issue, typically blood purity, and would execute better planned attacks, with more followers. This, Voldemort, had revealed himself to the world by attacking Diagon Alley in the middle of the day, with no less than fifty aurors in the alley. It was a ballsy move, and one that had failed spectacularly. Nearly fifty pureblood lords of moderate standing were now dead, as were nine innocent people.
The public looked to Albus to remove the threat, but he had no idea how to. He knew nothing else of the new Dark Lord. It could be years before this new lord was killed, and that could be too long, depending on how Voldemort proceeded.
-BREAK-
Looking at what lie before him, Voldemort smiled. It was not a sneer, nor a smirk (as one would expect from a Dark Lord), but a genuine smile. In addition to it being a real smile, it was an attractive smile, for the dark lord was an attractive man. One would think, that him being nearly forty, and being deep in the usage of the dark arts, his appearance would be affected. But no, his horcrux, and the numerous other dark rituals he had conducted on himself assured that he would forever look no older than mid thirties.
It had been four long, productive years since the failure of his first attack. Much had happened: his forces had grew to three times its original size, he had gone through several minor power increasing rituals, and the wizarding world was slowly returning to where it was before Grindelwald. Less and less aurors patrolled major wizarding places, people relaxed fully as they walked around. They had lived four years without fear of an attack, but that would soon change.
The reason Voldemort smiled was the large pit before him. More specifically what knelt and stood around it. One-hundred virgins, all of who would turn eleven, fourteen, or seventeen in little more than an hour. Those three ages were the three where wizards and witches would experience the largest magical growth. It had taken four years to gather all of them. While the magical population of the world wasn't tiny, it was hard to find one-hundred people who would all turn one of three ages on Halloween, but it had been done. And at midnight on Halloween, the one-hundred Death Eaters that stood behind these virgins, would slit their throats, filling up the pit with blood, Voldemort at that time would be lying on the stone block that lay in the center of the pit, and those Death Eaters would continue with an ancient spell, of Egyptian origin, allowing him to drain the power of all the dead.
His magical stores would increase drastically, and he and his followers would then prepare for their next raid, which would take place exactly one year later. They would show the wizarding world they were not to be laughed at. The next step in his rise to power was almost upon him, and nothing would stand in the way.
His thoughts were interrupted by a low voice, Abraxas stood in full Death Eater regalia, the white mask, the dark grey uniform, and the long black robe.
"My lord," the man spoke, "It is nearly time."
"Indeed it is, my slippery friend, are your fellows ready?"
"Yes my lord, the blades are sharp, the sacrifices in position, and the Death Eaters lusting for blood."
"Good, good. I shall take my place; here is your watch. Remember, you all must cut their throats and begin the ritual at as close as midnight you possibly can. The entire ritual should take no more than than five minutes. It is imperative that you lay the bodies flat on the ground immediately after you begin. When the blood stops flowing, push the bodies in."
Abraxas' cold voice responded quickly, "Yes my lord,it shall be done as you have said."
Voldemort turned to speak to his followers at large.
"My friends! This is a good day! For on this late hour of October thirtieth, nineteen sixty-nine, we gather to begin the rise of the wizarding world's next great power! Semper Fidelis, Semper Pura!"
His Death Eaters cheered, and called back to him, "Semper Fidelis, Semper Pura!"
He smiled, and disrobed himself, taking long, powerful strides towards the pit; with the grace of a dueler he dropped down from the ledge, and took his place lying on the stone table.
He heard the church bells ring in the distance, the quiet squelches of one hundred people having their throats slit, and the gushing of blood. He heard one hundred Death Eaters begin chanting, he heard the choked gasps as his sacrifices slowly bled to death. He heard the wind steadily increase, he heard bodies fall haphazardly into the blood, blood that was slowly covering him. He heard his followers finish the ritual, and he heard a loud boom. Then, he felt himself slowly lose consciousness, and heard no more, as great pain crept up upon him.
-BREAK-
"Tempus."
Luminous figures appeared in the air, and read,
8:11 AM
Wednesday, December 31st, 1969
Tom's left eyebrow arched slightly. He had been unconscious for two months? That certainly backed his plans up slightly (and by slight backup, he meant his plans were majorly fucked, and he would have to reevaluate most everything). On the bright side, however, he had a fresh start.
He smiled as he rose from his bed, he had work to do.
-BREAK-
Tom looked at his gathered followers; it was the last day of April, no more than six months after the ritual had been performed, and here he was, beginning his return to the wizarding world, and continuing his long road to power.
"My friends, today is a day most , we continue the road before us, the road to power! The road to safety from the muggle scum that plagues our world! The road to victory over the weak minded fools in our government! The road to eternal glory for the Death Eaters! Power! Safety! Victory! Glory! Semper Fidelis, Semper Pura!"
His Death Eaters let out a mighty roar! Their wands raised, they repeated his words back to him.
"Power! Safety! Victory! Glory! Semper Fidelis, Semper Pura!"
-BREAK-
ATTACK ON MUGGLE TOWN! FOUR HUNDRED MUGGLES, TEN AURORS DEAD!
By: Rita Skeeter
After five years, the group known as the "Death Eaters" have struck again. In an attack on the muggle village of Sansbury last night, 421 muggles were killed. The village of Sansbury had a total population of 443, leaving a casualty rate of 95%. Of the 22 survivors, the story remains the same; roughly 120 people, dressed in dark cloaks (we now know them to be battle robes) with red or silver markings and wearing white masks, apparated into positions surrounding the village, and immediately began casting spells. Roughly half an hour after the attack began, a contingent of 35 aurors arrived to quell the threat; the force was quickly overwhelmed, 10 were killed, 13 injured, and the remaining 12 captured.
Many will remember that the last time we heard of the Death Eaters, they killed or injured 16 people, all civilians. This makes the 431 people killed (as well as the 30 injured and 12 captured), a dramatic and terrifying increase in casualties. What has caused this? And what can stop it?
-BREAK-
THIRD MUGGLE VILLAGE ATTACK, LEAVES ONE HUNDRED DEAD
EIGHTY DEAD AFTER ATTACK ON RAVEN'S KEEP
ATTACK ON MINISTRY LEAVES DMLE HEAD AND THIRTY AURORS DEAD
MINISTRY UNVEILS STATUE TO HONOR YOU-KNOW-WHO'S VICTIMS
LORD CHARLUS POTTER AND LADY DOREA POTTER nee BLACK FOUND DEAD
-BREAK-
LORD JAMES POTTER ANNOUNCES BIRTH OF HEIR
By: Rita Skeeter
In these dark times, even the smallest amount of light is refreshing, which is why I'm pleased to share the fact that early yesterday (July 31, 1979), Lady Lily Potter, wife to Lord James Potter of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, has given birth to the young couples Heir, Hadrian Sirius Potter. The young boy's name coming from the recently named Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, Sirius Black. Just one year ago, the previous Lord and Lady potter, Charlus Fleamont and Dorea Euphemia, were murdered in an attack on the Potter Castle.. The current Lord and Lady Potter, just 18 years old, have lived in an unknown location for the past year, citing reasons of personal safety for their undisclosed location.
-BREAK-
LORD POTTER ANNOUNCES BIRTH OF SECOND SON
By: Rita Skeeter
On this, the first birthday of Hadrian Sirius Potter, Lord James Potter has announced the birth of his second son, James Charlus Potter II. In an event only explainable by magic, the second heir has been born on the exact same day, just one year later, as the 19 year old couples first heir. Lord Potter has exclaimed his overwhelming joy over the day's events. In other news, Frank Longbottom heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom, son to Lady Augusta Longbottom, has announced the birth of his own son, Neville Frank Longbottom. In these dark times, such instances as these bring joy to this reporter's heart.
-BREAK-
FINAL POTTER CHILD BORN, SAME BIRTHDAY AS OLDER BROTHERS
By: Rita Skeeter
August 2, 1981, on this day, Lord and Lady Potter have announced the birth of their third, and final, child, Cassiopeia Lily Potter. Once again, the child has been born on the 31st of July.
-BREAK-
Tom looked down at Snape and frowned. This would not do, no, not at all. A mere child? Prophesied to defeat him? The Greatest Dark Lord since Grindelwald? No, this could not happen. He would make sure it didn't. He would find a way to remove the Potter child from the picture. Or, maybe, change his position in the picture?
Yes, Tom liked that idea. He liked it very much. He looked at Snape again, a brilliant Potioneer the boy may be, but his loyalty was thin. He would need someone else, and he new exactly who. Yes, Tom thought, this could work. It could work quite well.