Author's Note: I posted this story a few years ago under my old pen name, but later deleted it. Now I'm posting it again.


Voldemort found himself enjoying the walk up to the Headmaster's office. It was foolish, but after all this time he was looking forward to a rematch. He was also curious to see if Fawkes would attack him. The phoenix was shrouded in mystery, and so it was possible that Dumbledore had concocted the story about it being a symbol of the Light. After all he had concocted the story of the Boy-Who-Lived, when in fact it was Lily Potter who had defeated him ten years ago.

Harry tried to engage Dumbledore in conversation, but the Headmaster remained silent. Voldemort was surprised at how fragile the old wizard looked, but that fragility only extended to his body. Dumbledore's magic was just as intimating as ever. A simple hand gesture was all it took to brush aside the hulking gargoyle that guarded his office door.

"What is this arse doing here, and why does he have Lily?" Harry asked when they reached the top of the stairs and found Snape waiting for them.

Voldemort could tell at once that something was wrong, because the Snape was sitting in the Headmaster's chair with his feet up on the Headmaster's desk. He also was ignoring them. Instead he was staring at Lily's Potter's motionless portrait like someone caught in a hypnotic trance.

"Mr Potter, I expect a certain amount of decorum from all my students," Dumbledore intoned like a pompous windbag.

"He tried to kill Vito right in the middle of Potions class. The greasy git should be in Azkaban."

Voldemort was proud to see Harry on the attack. Perhaps he could just sit this one out, and watch the other three fight.

Snape finally turned to look at them. "Potter, do you notice anything new about this portrait?"

Harry's face went white. Despite the short time since they found Lily's portrait, the boy had grown deeply attached to her. "What did you do to her?"

"What I should have done a long time ago, you arrogant twit. I accepted the truth that your mother was a whore. Even now with James Potter's little bastard staring her in the face she still chooses that conceited buffoon over me. My only regret is that Lily isn't alive. If she was I would spit in her face."

By the end of Snape's little tirade Dumbledore's face had also turned a ghostly white. "Severus please tell me that you did not destroy Lily Potter's portrait. That is considered a serious crime, punishable by a sentence in Azkaban."

"Please Albus, we both know you will not..."

What was as far as the Potion Master got before Harry attacked. Snape must have hear about their scuffle with Professor McGonagall, and as a result his Shield Charm was more than adequate. He then disarmed Harry, seized his wand out of midair, and snapped it in half. Voldemort was impressed with the display. Snape he had indeed become a powerful wizard since the end of the war.

"And according to your precious Prophecy this pathetic little Hufflepuff is going to save us? We might as well slit our own throats now, and save the Dark Lord the effort when he returns." The potion master then cast a particularly nasty curse to underscore his point about Harry's inadequacies.

With his brother under attack Voldemort felt compelled to intervene, and blocked the curse with how own Shield Charm. "Headmaster Dumbledore, would you please stop Professor Snape before he kills Harry."

Voldemort had some sympathy for the old wizard. He knew from personal experiences that it was never easy coming to terms with the treachery of one of your servants. Thankfully his words pulled Dumbledore out of his daze.

"Severus! Control yourself."

Snape responded with a bitter laugh. "Please Albus, you need me far more than I need you. When the Dark Lord makes an attempt to steal the Philosopher's Stone—and we both know that he will—I will be the one who has to stop him. Or are you really believe that Minerva or Pomona or any of the other Professors are capable of dealing with such a brilliant and powerful wizard?"

It was fascinating for Voldemort to watch Dumbledore's reaction to all of this. If one of his Death Eaters had addressed him in that tone of voice Voldemort would have responded with the Cruciatus Curse. Dumbledore, however, did nothing.

Harry—who had been just as interested in the argument between the two older wizards as he was—finally spoke up: "Voldemort is dead you greasy idiot. And what is the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Are you going to Oblviate these two, or shall I?" Snape asked. He seemed confident that there would be no punishment for any of his actions today.

"You can't Oblviate us. That's a crime!" Harry said as they both started to back away towards the door of the office. A door which was now magically locked.

"I'm so sorry Harry, but you far too young to know about the Prophecy. And it is of vital importance that Professor Snape remains here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said in that sickening voice of his.

Voldemort hadn't thought it possible to hate Dumbledore anymore than he already did, but this was a new low for the self-righteous hypocrite. With blinding speed the Headmaster drew his wand and cast a pair of Memory Charms, followed by a pair of stunners. To Voldemort's amazement the spells had no effect on him, but he quickly covered by dropping to the ground and closing his eyes.

"This is an excellent opportunity to get rid of the little American bastard. He is too intelligent for his own good, and Harry will be much more tractable without him around," Snape offered.

"Shut our mouth. Up until this point I have tolerated your puerile behavior towards Vito Potter, but no longer. If you ever disobey me again I will hand you over to Alastor Moody—without your wand. You may think that you are indispensable to my plans, but as a muggle leader once pointed out: the graveyards are full of indispensable men."

So it seemed that the old lion still had his teeth. Even though Voldemort still had his eyes closed, he was certain that Dumbledore's outburst had cowed Snape. At least for the moment.

The Headmaster then continued in a much gentler tone of voice: "Tonight at dinner I will announce that I have confiscated the portrait of Lily Potter because she was causing a public disturbance. At the same time you will publicly apologize to Vito Potter for not preventing that potion's accident. That should be enough to end this little strike by the students."

"I will never apologize to James Potter's bastard."

"Enough!" Dumbledore roared. "You may be powerful Severus, but I can still crush you. I can crush you with easy. Never forget that."

"How will you explain what happened to these two?"

"I will tell Poppy that Harry accidentally destroyed his wand, and that the resulting explosion knocked them both unconscious. Which is true... from a certain perspective," Dumbledore said as Voldemort felt himself being levitated into the air. "You had best start practicing that apology. Your future at Hogwarts depends on it."


The next day found Voldemort in the Chamber of Secrets grooming his old friend Ouroboros. One of the reasons Voldemort had wanted to return to Hogwarts as a Professor was so he could visit the basilisk more often. There was a secondary entrance to the Chamber of Secrets under the Black Lake which allowed the great serpent to feed, but until recently Voldemort had been a lousy swimmer, so he never used it. As he gently cleaned the dirt from under one of its beautiful black scales, he again marveled at what a majestic creäture Ouroboros was. Highly intelligent too.

Speaking in Parseltongue Voldemort asked: "Have you ever heard of any stories about the Deathly Hallows, my old friend? From what I have been able to gather, the Peverell brothers were descendents of Slytherin and the ancestors of the Gaunt family. That means it is possible that the gemstone from my family ring is the fabled Resurrection Stone."

Five years ago Voldemort had realized that he could not keep the Gaunt Ring with him, yet for some reason he had felt an intense attachment to it. As a compromise he had removed the odd gemstone and replaced it with fake, before once again returning the Ring to the Gaunt shack. Ever since then he had kept the gemstone with him, telling Harry that it had been a gift from his late mother. Given the inbreeding his family had practiced, it was entirely possible that the Gaunts had forgotten the true origin and purpose of the gemstone.

"I am sorry young one, but as you know I have been in hibernation for centuries," Ouroboros replied. "I did meet several of the Peverells before my great slumber. They were intelligent wizards, so it is possible they created these Deathly Hallows you speak of. I am afraid you are just going to have to test the Stone if you want any answers. I for one wouldn't mind seeing Salazar once again—if only for a little while."

As improbable as the existence of the Resurrection Stone seemed to Voldemort, it was the only explanation he could think of for the failure of Dumbledore's spells. It had taken only a little research into the Deathly Hallows to discover the last known location of the Elder Wand, and if Gellert Grindelwald no longer possessed the wand then there was a chance that Dumbledore stolen it after their famous duel. It would be just like the hypocrite to steal the Elder Wand from his lover, and then cover it up—just as he had stolen the Invisibility Cloak from James Potter's dead body.

If Voldemort held one of the Deathly Hallows, was it possible that it protected him from the others? There was only one way to find out. He took the Stone in his hand, turned it thrice, and thought about his great ancestor.

"Hello Tom."

That was definitely not the voice of Salazar Slytherin. He looked around and saw the ghostly form of a witch. She was a very ugly, but strangely familiar to him. Of course... he had just been thinking of Lily Potter.

"Hello mother. I never thought I would actually meet you."

"No, the Great Dark Lord Voldemort was going to live for all of eternity."

Merope Gaunt's voice held no emotion, yet Voldemort could sense her contempt.

"And who are you to judge me, mother? You were nothing but a squib. You couldn't even seduce a muggle without using a love potion on him first. In the end you died in the filthy gutter of a London slum. You lived a pathetic life, from start to finish."

The ugly woman smiled. "You seem to have forgotten my one accomplishment: I am the mother of Tom Marvolo Riddle, the greatest wizard to be born in a thousand years."

"You gave me nothing," Voldemort hissed. "Everything I accomplished was by my own hand."

"Yet here you are. Trapped in the body of a child with only a faction of your vast magical strength. Quite an accomplishment," Merope said in that same emotionless voice. "It is insane for a wizard to divide his magical soul, yet you did it several times."

"It was the only way I could gain immortality—not that someone of your limited intelligence could possible understand that," Voldemort sneered.

"I was intelligent enough to understand that the Gaunt family was destroying itself. I was intelligent enough to know that my child would need the blood of an outsider, or he would end up just as weak as the rest of us. Tom Riddle may have been a muggle, but he also was brilliant, strong, and handsome. The bloodline of Salazar Slytherin gave you your magic, but all your other gifts came from your father. The muggle. But you threw it all away to become a hideous freak."

"I was so powerful that people were afraid to speak my name."

"My son, the great fool," Merope remarked. "Did it ever occur to you what you could have accomplished as Tom Marvolo Riddle if you hadn't squandered the many gifts you were born with? By now you could have chosen as the Minister of Magic and as the Supreme Mugwump. You could have pushed Albus Dumbledore into an early retirement, and then into an early grave."

"None of this is real. You are not real. Nothing exist beyond death," Voldemort whispered as he turned his back on the ghost. "I know of several magical artifacts that can read minds, so this Stone is simply projecting a false image using my own memories. You are not real!"

"Perhaps my son, but do my views lack merit?"

Voldemort turned around to continue their argument, but the ghost of Merope Gaunt had already vanished.


"Hey Vito, good luck today," Longbottom said as the Hufflepuffs marched en masse down to the Quidditch pitch for their first match against Ravenclaw.

The second boy of prophecy was starting to unnerve Voldemort. When Harry had lost his wand he had insisted like a good Hufflepuff that his friend Neville should accompany him when he visited Ollivander's shop in Diagon Alley. Since Longbottom had gotten a proper wand his magic had improved, and it turned out that Voldemort had grossly underestimated the boy's magical strength. He was thinking about arranging another accident, and this time it would be a fatal one.

"Neville, my fellow beater doesn't need any luck. He has skill," Tonks said.

Despite his best efforts Voldemort found himself blushing. It was her fault that he was in this stupid uniform, but still he blushed. "Thank you, Dora."

"I told you before, I prefer Tonks."

"And I prefer Dora," Voldemort replied. "It is a much more appropriate name for such a beautiful witch."

Tonks cursed him. But she was smiling while she did it, so he considered the brief exchange a victory.

After Madame Hooch was sacked, Hogwarts needed a new flying instructor. Megan Jones' famous Aunt Gwenog volunteered for the job until Dumbledore could find a permanent replacement. Once the professional Quidditch player saw the Potter brothers fly, she insisted that they be allowed to tryout for the Hufflepuff team despite their age. Professor Spout was so mad about the loss of Lily Potter's portrait—and so desperate for the Quidditch Cup—that she agreed. That week all the Hufflepuff first-years were given a chance to tryout for the house team.

Voldemort hadn't planned on doing well during the tryouts. However Tonks' presence as the other beater changed his mind, and he flew like the genius he was. Harry also did well, both as a seeker and a chaser. He chose to play the latter position. According to Harry being a seeker was boring, while scoring with the Quaffle reminded him of his beloved football. Megan Jones had also made the team as a chaser, and the rest of Hogwarts was sure that the "Flying Firsties of Hufflepuff" were going to get slaughtered by the more experienced Ravenclaw team

It was not to be. Maybe it was Dumbledore's attempt to Oblviate him, or maybe it was his encounter with Merope Gaunt in the Chamber of Secrets. Either way Voldemort had a lot of anger to work out on the pitch. As a result he was an assassin with the Bludger, and managed to send no less than four Ravenclaw players to the infirmary before the match was over. Harry had sixteen goals, and Cedric Diggory finally caught the Golden Snitch after the Ravenclaw seeker was taken-out with a crushed ribcage. Much to the school's amazement the final score was 390-20.


The party that night was lively even by Hufflepuff standards, and the 'Puff-punch flowed freely. There was also a great deal of dancing and even more snogging. Voldemort preferred the formality and elegance of the Slytherin lifestyle, but this kind of coarse atmosphere did have its charms.

"Vito Potter, I can't believe how barbaric you were today," Granger remarked as they watched Harry make an idiot of himself out on the dance-floor with Megan Jones. "I must say, I expected better behavior from someone so intelligent."

"Hermione, stop annoying my fellow beater," Tonks said in a slurred voice as she draped her arm over Voldemort's shoulders. The witch had been drinking early and often that night. "Vito was brilliant out on the pitch. Come here and give me a little kiss."

Voldemort saw his chance and took it. As Tonks leaned in for a friendly peck on the cheek he intercepted her lips, and gave her a deep kiss instead. As they were kissing he reached around and placed his hand against the back of her slim neck. He then sent a surge of wandless magic directly into the pleasure center of her brain, which had the effect of giving the young witch a minor but very real orgasm. He had created the Gräfenberg Hex himself, and it was one of the reasons Bellatrix had been so devoted to him.

Tonks pulled away from him in shock, but that shock quickly turned to anger. She dragged him away to a secluded corner of the common room, and then drew her wand. "What in the name of Merlin did you just did to me Vito Potter?"

"Dora, I didn't do anything to you," Voldemort lied. "That was just the creation of our Soul Bond."