TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE, THE STORY
CHAPTER 11
He left the letter on the front desk in Borgin and Burkes as he prepared to leave. It was dawn and soon Hepzibah would be preparing to drink her morning tea. She would be dead before she even realized about the loss of her two most valuable items.
The house elf, having the fake memory within her, would be convicted for accidently killing her mistress and Voldemort would be free, free from the old shop. He would travel out of the country, he would search for the diadem of Ravenclaw….and then, he would create his next three horcruxes. He smiled at the thought as he walked through the early morning empty streets of Knockturn ally. He came to the dead end at the end of the road and smiled.
"This is my chance," he whispered to himself.
He took out his wand with his left hand…and disaperated into thin air.
….
Years later, Tom Marvolo Riddle returned to the Wizarding World. Assuming the name of Lord Voldemort, he gathered up his old death eaters and began a campaign for the disposal of muggle borns from the Wizarding community.
His speeches, as well put together as they were, had only fans who already hated muggles. He soon found that he'd find it difficult to gain the confidence of the Ministry or the community, and thought that action must be what he would use. However, today, he was trying to apply for a different type of job.
The defensive magic teacher was once again an open spot at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
As he entered the gates, he breathed in the air of the old school he had attended for seven years of his life.
"I'm back," he said.
..
He walked all the way up to the office in which he expected to find the new headmaster, someone he wasn't surprised had gotten the job.
After going up the moving, spiraling stairs, he knocked on the office door.
"Enter," came the voice of an elderly gentleman who Voldemort recognized at once.
He entered the office, noticing that the only difference was that there were many large contraptions that were all moving, sitting on three tables.
He looked at the old man sitting behind the desk, his beard gone white, reaching down to his waist.
Voldemort wondered if Dumbledore would know it was him, now that his fetchers had changed. Voldemort now had shorter hair, his face looked burned and blurred, his eyes had transformed into a sickly looking red color…all the small prices to pay for his wonderful four horcruxes, one of them still needing hiding.
"Good evening, Tom," Dumbledore greeted. "Won't you sit down?"
"Thank you," Voldemort thanked as he sat in front of the head. "I heard that you had become headmaster," he continued in a higher, colder voice. "A worthy choice."
"I am glad you approve," Dumbledore smiled. "May I offer you a drink?"
"That would be welcome. I have come a long way."
Dumbledore over to a large cabinet and took out some fine wine.
"So, Tom…to what do I owe the pleasure?" Dumbledore asked, handing him a goblet as the headmaster took his seat again.
"They do not call me 'Tom' anymore," he said. "These days, I am known as-,"
"I know what you are known as. But to me, I'm afraid, you will always be Tom Riddle. It is one of those one of the irritating things about old teachers. I am afraid that they never quite forget their charges' youthful beginnings."
"I am surprised you have remained here so long," Voldemort admitted. "I always wondered why a wizard such as yourself never wished to leave school."
"Well," said the smiling Dumbledore. "-to a wizard such as myself, there can be nothing more important than passing on ancient skills, helping hone young minds. If I remember correctly, you once saw the attraction of teaching too."
"I see it still," Voldemort answered. "I merely wondered why you-who are so often asked for advise by the Ministry, and who have twice, I think, been offered the post of Minis-
-ter-,"
"Three times at the last count, actually," Dumbledore corrected, holding up three fingers quickly and the putting his hand down. "But the Ministry never attracted me as a career. Again, something we have in common, I think."
Voldemort inclined his head and sipped his wine.
"I have returned," he started. "-later, perhaps, than Professor Dippet expected…but I have returned, nevertheless, to request again what he once told me I was too young to have. I have come to you to ask that you permit me to return to this castle, to teach. I think you must know that I have seen and done much since I left this place. I could show and tell your students things they can gain from no other wizard."
"Yes, I certainly do know that you have seen and done much since leaving us. Rumors of your doings have reached your old school, Tom. I should be sorry to have to believe half of them."
Voldemort showed no sign of worry as he continued
"Greatness inspires envy, envy engenders spite, spite spawns lies. You must know this, Dumbledore."
"You call it 'greatness,' what have you been doing, do you?"
"Certainly. I have experimented; I have pushed the boundaries of magic further, perhaps, than they have ever been pushed-,"
"Of some kinds of magic," Dumbledore corrected again. "Of some. Of others, you remain…forgive me…woefully ignorant."
Voldemort did not look angry, but smiled.
"The old argument. But nothing I have seen in the world has supported your famous pronouncements that love is more powerful than my kind of magic, Dumbledore."
"Perhaps you have been looking in the wrong places."
"Well, then, what better place to start my fresh researches than here, at Hogwarts?" Voldemort said. "Will you let me return? Will you let me share my knowledge with your students? I place myself and my talents at your disposal. I am yours to command."
Dumbledore raised his white eyebrows.
"And what will become of those whom YOU command? What will happen to those who call themselves-or so rumor has it- the Death Eaters?"
Voldemort did not expect Dumbledore to know of this and so he said, after a moment's pause
"My friends will carry on without me, I am sure."
"I am glad to hear that you consider them friends. I was under the impression that they are more in the order of servants."
"You are mistaken," Voldemort assured.
"Then if I were to go to the Hog's Head tonight, I would not find a group of them- Nott, Rosier, Mulciber, Dolohov- awaiting your return? Devoted friends indeed, to travel this far with you on a snowy night, merely to wish you luck as you attempted to secure a teaching post."
Voldemort's nostrils slightly flared.
"You are omniscient as ever, Dumbledore," he congratulated with a hint of menace in his voice.
"Oh no, merely friendly with the local barmen. Now, Tom…,"
Dumbledore sat his empty glass on the desk and straightened up importantly.
"Let us speak openly. Why have you come here tonight, surrounded by henchmen, to request a job we both know you do not want?"
"A job I do not want? On the contrary, Dumbledore, I want it very much."
"Oh, you want to come back to Hogwarts, but you do not want to teach any more than you wanted when you were eighteen. What is it you're after, Tom? Why not try an open request for once?"
"If you do not want to give me a job-," Voldemort sneered.
"Of course I don't. And I don't think for a moment that you expected me to. Nevertheless, you came here, you asked, you must have had a purpose?"
Voldemort thought about how he always used to close his mind off to this man. He wondered if Dumbledore was looking into his mind once again.
"This is your final word?" Voldemort questioned, standing up with rage inside of him.
"It is," Dumbledore retorted, also standing.
"Then we have nothing more to say to each other."
"No, nothing," Dumbledore said. His face almost looked…saddened. "The time is long gone when I could frighten you with a burning wardrobe and force you to make repayment for your crimes. But I wish I could, Tom….I wish I could….,"
Without another word, Voldemort walked briskly out of the office.
..
Lord Voldemort walked very fast indeed, quickly up to the seventh floor corridor.
He passed to small Slytherins, both talking of a blood traitor they had been picking on, a first year named Arthur Weasly.
Voldemort came to the blank wall and, instead of thinking about his private study, thought about a place to hide something forever.
The doors opened and revealed a large room, full of all sorts of objects that Voldemort expected were placed there by the room to help hide the diadem.
He conjured up the diadem in his hand and placed it in the far back of the room. After making sure that it was hidden properly, Voldemort left the room to exit out of Hogwarts.
…..
