A/N: Mountain-Tenshi pointed out a glaring error with this chapter that, at first, I didn't understand. After looking it over, I saw what she was talking about, and have fixed it. Thank you for keeping an eye out for those things.

TWENTY-FIRST

"You wished to see me, Headmaster?"

"Yes, Miss Jovtveva. Please come in and have a seat." The Curse-breaking teacher slowly entered the room and sat, smiling almost smugly. She was sure this was about the mudblood that she'd discussed with him on several occasions. Perhaps now he would get rid of the filth that was infecting their prestigious school. His words, however, left her stunned and speechless. "I thought I warned you about your behavior toward the Dark Lord Voldemort's son. I have received a letter from our Lord, and in it he cautions me to do something about your abhorrent behavior toward his heir. If I don't, then his son has free rein to deal with you as he sees fit. I will only tell you one more time. That child is not a mudblood. He is the son and heir of our Lord. You will cease your bullying of the child. You have one week to adjust your attitude, or I will fire you. Assuming, of course, that you are still around. I give you fair warning; do not press the matter any longer. If you continue to abuse that boy, on your head be it."

"You…you dare to defend that filth?" she finally gasped in outrage. "He is but the dirt beneath my boots, and I will do what I have to, to protect this school from worthless beings like him."

"Get out. Do not say I did not warn you."

Later that day, in her class with Corvus and his friends, she crossed the line, thinking that, as always, she was in the right. It was just before lunch, and it was to be her last act as a pureblood supremacist.

"Mudblood. You will stay after class. The rest of you, out." She watched with narrowed eyes as the first years stared incredulously at her for a moment, before her glare got them moving. Many of them looked at Corvus with sympathy; they'd been witness to the rampant abuse the woman had heaped on the raven's head, and knew the upcoming confrontation would be brutal. Draco, Blaise, Theo and Greg all remained in their seats, surrounding the Riddle heir protectively. She looked at them and scowled. "I want you all to leave. Now. This is between the mudblood and myself."

Draco narrowed his eyes at her while Blaise spoke. "You really think we'll leave him here, alone, with you? He is our Alpha, and as such will have our protection no matter what. We've told you and told you and told you that he is no mudblood, and you still insist on using that insult. Our Alpha has decided that today you will be punished for your ignorance."

"Punished? Me? You must be joking," she barked out with a condescending laugh. She began to approach the group, her eyes on Corvus. He stood quickly and marched toward her, making her halt in her tracks in astonishment at his arrogance. He stopped in front of her, eyes narrowed in fury for a moment before turning to his Inner Circle for a few seconds, sweeping the index and middle fingers of his right hand down over his eyes in a signal for them to close their eyes. They instantly did, and he turned back to face the teacher, a sneer on his face. He bent his head to his shoulder and began to hiss.

Abraxas.

Yes, Corvus?

I give you permission to paralyze this ignorant, wretched woman. I want her to be able to feel everything we do to her, and I want the marks to show.

With pleasure. I've listened to what she's said to you, and I've been waiting for the chance to punish her.

You will receive that today, my pet. Jovtveva stared at the suddenly menacing child in front of her, for the first time regretting her habit of speaking without thought. A gleaming black snake rose from within Corvus' robes, the blunt snout facing her, and brilliant yellow eyes glowing. She had time to gasp in one breath before she was immobile, the stare of the basilisk doing its job. Corvus stalked closer, a malicious grin on his face. The serpent hissed and lunged, sinking his fangs into the woman's neck, but withholding his venom, knowing that his master wanted to be the one to kill the insignificant bug. He pulled away none too gently, his fangs tearing ragged holes in the woman's neck that bled sluggishly. Corvus relished the pain that flittered through her eyes for a moment, stroking his fingers between his serpent's eye ridges and earning a contented hiss.

"Not bad for a mudblood, wouldn't you say?" he queried snidely. "Now, my friends have bitten their tongues, trying hard to behave as purebloods should in class, when instructed by a competent superior. However, they have reached the end of their patience, as have I. So, I will allow them to…take out their frustrations on you for a bit. However, the killing blow will be mine."

"Merlin, that felt good," Theo murmured happily.

"Agreed," the rest responded, also high on the adrenalin rush. They were on their way to the headmaster's office, to report an…accident. Then, they would head to lunch, knowing that they had limited time. The lesson had eaten into their break, and they were starving from the energy they had expended.

The children took their familiars everywhere with them; usually they were in padded, comfortable carriers, shrunken and placed in a ventilated pocket of their rucksacks. Cushioning charms prevented the animals from incurring any injuries throughout the course of the day, and charms to clean the carriers and provide sustenance and water were also emplaced. Every now and then they would take their familiars out, usually during a more relaxed class, so that they could get some exercise. The other first years had marveled at the animals in the beginning, but now they had become commonplace, and the students were no longer distracted by them.

When Corvus gave his friends permission to have fun, they removed the carriers from their rucksacks and enlarged them. Freeing their familiars, they stood back and watched as each animal inflicted its own special wounds on the immobile woman. She couldn't even scream; the magic of the basilisk's gaze holding her petrified. Finally, when the animals had had their fun, the boys took turns flinging some of the nastier curses at the woman. They had been anxious to practice them outside a classroom setting, and this afforded them the perfect opportunity to see if they could actually perform the spells. When it was finally time to finish it, with Corvus' nod, Greg pulled a potion made from mandrake root from his pocket. Carefully, he tipped it into her mouth, releasing her from her petrifaction

"Now," Corvus said casually, "you and I will have a little chat." Instantly, the raven's wand was in his hand and he was hissing out a series of curses in parseltongue. As each curse hit the woman, amplified by the parselmagic, she screamed, the results not visible at first. Slowly, in increments, her skin began to slough off, layer upon layer, revealing veins and arteries and capillaries. Then those layers began to slide from her body, revealing glistening, raw muscles and tendons, as well as pockets of adipose tissue. Her joints were clearly visible, as were the connections from muscle to bone. Corvus' magic kept her alive, but barely. With no eyelids, the boys watched, fascinated, as her eyeballs rolled wildly in her head, the muscles connected to the sides flexing and extending with every movement. Her jaw dropped open to emit a scream of horrifying dimensions as she fixed her eyes onto the advancing preteen. Corvus smirked widely at the woman, leaning in to whisper, "Never doubt who I am. I am the Dark Lord Voldemort's son." Placing his wand at the center of her sternum, he hissed, "Avada Kedavra."

Corvus tapped gently on the door, pushing it open when Karkaroff bade him enter. The five children stepped up to the desk and stood tall. "Hello, Heir-Lord Riddle. Am I to assume that things have been settled between you and Jovtveva?"

"Yes, sir. You will want to send some house elves to the Curse Breaking classroom to clean up the mess. I am sorry for costing you a teacher. I am sure Father would be able to find someone to replace her."

"Do not apologize, young Lord," the headmaster replied. "You were not the first student with whom she had difficulties. I'd discussed it with her before, and warned her that this year would be a probationary one for her. Had you not taken care of it, she would have been terminated at the end of the week."

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but why did you wait so long?" Greg asked softly. "I mean, if she was a detriment to the school, shouldn't she have been replaced before now?"

"She had the qualifications to teach the class," Karkaroff answered with a small, self-deprecating smile. "Curse breaking instructors are difficult to come by. It is a very demanding career, and few have the mettle to complete the training."

"I'll write Father tonight. I'm sure he will have someone for you before the week is out."

"I will excuse you from your next class," the headmaster stated after a moment, writing a note on a piece of parchment. He summoned a house elf to deliver the missive to professor Bekirski before continuing. "I have been keeping an eye on your progress in your classes, and I must say that the five of you are exceptionally bright. So it will not hurt for you to miss one class, so that you may relax from the adrenaline rush created by your exercise. I will have a house elf set up a meal in your common rooms, since you have missed lunch. I do apologize for the inconvenience she had caused you."

"It's not your fault, Headmaster," Corvus replied with a smile. "You do the best you can with what you have. Father knows this fact better than anyone, I would wager. Thank you for your kind consideration, and for your continuing efforts to turn out the best and the brightest. Father will, no doubt, reward you handsomely for your achievements on his behalf." The children exited, leaving behind a slightly stunned headmaster. That child will change the face of the wizarding world for the good, he thought, chest puffing out with pride at the thought that he, Igor Karkaroff, will have had a hand, in some small way, in helping to shape the future of their world.

Father

Jovtveva has been taken care of. I allowed my Inner Circle some time to play with her before I dealt her the killing blow. They were just as infuriated with her as I was, so it helped to ease some tensions. Now, however, we are without a curse breaking instructor. Do you have any ideas on who may be suitable to replace her?

Thank you for understanding, and for allowing me to deal with her myself. Though I would have loved to see you storm the castle for me, I needed to take care of this myself. What kind of future leader would I be if I had to have my father come to my rescue every time there was a problem? Besides, it felt good to let go like that. I need to do it more often; things around here get a little too stressful sometimes.

I love you very much, and I can't wait to see you this weekend.

Corvus

My son

I am very proud of you for wanting to handle her yourself. It shows a maturity that I had not expected, and a willingness to get your hands dirty that I find marvelous. You are right; you would be no true leader whatsoever if you had to be bailed out of situations all the time. However, please do not hesitate to call on me or your Circle if you are faced with something that you are not able to handle alone.

Now, as to the problem of a new teacher. I believe that I have just the person. He's new to our organization, and I believe his talents are going to waste in the job he currently holds. Therefore, I will speak to William Weasley, to see if he would be willing to give up working for Gringotts and take on the responsibilities of teaching the students of Durmstrang. I will, of course, frame my command as a polite request. For appearances sake, of course. I will also discuss finding suitable replacements for him with the goblins. Can't have them angry with me; they could do a lot of damage to the progress I've already had.

I love you too, my son, more than I can ever say, and I'm looking forward to seeing you this weekend.

Father

"Ah, William. Thank you for responding so promptly," Riddle murmured as his house elf led the redhead into his den. Gesturing to a chair before his desk, he waited until the young man had seated himself before continuing. "I have a small problem that I think you would be most suited for."

"How may I help you, my Lord," Weasley murmured, bowing his head slightly in deference. Tom's eyes lit up with surprised pleasure, and he nodded to the young man to let him know that he was very pleased.

"It seems my son has…created a vacancy in the staff of Durmstrang. Apparently, the Curse Breaking teacher didn't approve of my son, and for the last several months had been insulting him."

"I'll bet that didn't go over well," Bill quipped sarcastically, still remembering how the child had handled Goyle's obnoxious wife.

"It didn't," Riddle replied with a laugh. "Needless to say, they are now in desperate need of a well-qualified instructor, and I would like you to take the position."

"M-me?" he gasped incredulously. "B-but what about my position at Gringotts?"

"Leave the goblins to me," Riddle answered firmly. "I have talked to Ragnok already, and though he was a bit put out at the thought of losing his best curse breaker-his words-he understood the need. Besides, I think Durmstrang would benefit from a professor who not only knows his craft as expertly as you do, but who also maintains a calm neutrality. Durmstrang does not accept muggleborns at all, and their halfblood population is very, very small. Those students feel a greater pressure to succeed than the purebloods, and that is where you will shine. You will be able to make them understand that they are just as good; just as welcomed as the pureblood students. You are more valuable to me in the position of professor at Durmstrang than you would be if you remained with Gringotts."

"Thank you for your confidence and faith in me," the redhead murmured, voice slightly shaky. "I will take the position, and I will serve with honor and pride."

February 14, 1992

The Daily Prophet

DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY?

The beginnings of his Order of the Phoenix

Betty Braithwaite, reporter

Here, again, dear readers, are two more entries chronicling the increasing power hungry madness of our once beloved headmaster. The time skips are his own; he wrote sporadically in his diary once he started Hogwarts at eleven. From here on out, the entries will encompass those events he'd thought important enough to remember. We are coming to the end, good people; the time when he begins to destroy the wizarding world. I only hope that the changes we are going through now will be permanent.

July 14, 1912

Dear Diary,

Well, another year has gone, and I sit in my chambers at the school, planning my syllabus for next term. I've begun to develop a persona that seems to work quite well with the mudbloods. I play a slightly eccentric man, kindly and understanding, and they eat it up like chocolate frogs. The purebloods aligned with the side of the Greater Good are wonderful allies and advocates. They have been very vocal about my future; they come to me often to speak of the wonderful things I could do for this school, if only I were headmaster. This is marvelous. With their influence, when Dippet finally retires, it will be nothing for me to take his place. The mudbloods have their own purposes. I've begun a…club, of sorts, that I will call the Order of the Phoenix. After all, the phoenix is magic of the purest and lightest form, and will serve well as a mascot for the Greater Good. The weak-willed refuse are excited to be 'included' in my plans. They have no idea of my true purpose for them. I will use them, as I need them, for protection and defense, and to throw under the trolley when I need an easy scapegoat.

August 31, 1915

Dear Diary,

My plans are working out better than I had hoped. My army is growing, and the purebloods are not only supporting me vocally, but financially as well. So many have given me thousands of galleons for the 'war effort'. It's ludicrous how easily led they are. I almost feel sorry for them. Almost. Gellert is making inroads on his end. He'd contacted me briefly a couple of years ago, and I've been thinking about him, and about what he had said. His suggestions have merit; I just need to keep an eye out for the perfect candidate and then we can set our plans in motion. He also apologized for abandoning me like he did. His pureblood boy toy ditched him as soon as someone better came along, and he realized what he had with me. It will take some time for me to fully forgive him; however, I cannot help but gloat over his circumstances. Karma's a bitch, all right, and she slapped him in the face, but hard.

"Looks like we're going to get to the most important entries very soon," Tom murmured as he cut out the article and pasted it into his scrapbook. "Though it will certainly be somewhat painful and humiliating to see his manipulations of me in print, it will also serve to paint me as a victim, and not the aggressor that Dumbledore had wanted me to be. I won't, however, allow it to make me appear weak."