When they got there Voldemort sat there waiting for them to sit down.
"Ahh Severus, Harry, just in time. Sit down." he said.
So they sat down and waited.
"Now Harry, I heard that you were resorted the day you get back to school. Is that right?"
"Yes my lord. I have every bit of the four houses in me but the hat said I would do well in Slytherin. So after Weasley and Granger turn their back on me the hat says I should go to the correct house." he said.
"I've also heard you've been keeping a little bit of strength in you so no one will be jealous?"
Snape and some of the people that had heard from their kids snorted.
"Oh he's kept a lot more than some of his strength in him my lord." Snape said.
"I'm top of my year and Granger is jealous about me being better at everything. Weasley is even more jealous because I'm a very strong person. But being a Weasley like any other pureblood he knows that the Potters are a very old, rich and strong family." he said.
"Yes, the Potter is one of the oldest and richest families in London." Bellatrix said.
"And since Sirius left me everything he left me his account at Gringotts. I guess he added some of his blood that day my mum had me. So technically I'm Harry James Potter-Black." he said.
When they were done Harry and Snape went back to school.
Later that night there was a staff meeting. They all sat there waiting.
"So, how is Harry doing in his new house?" Dumbledore asked.
"He's the best in his year at everything Albus! He is a very strong young man." Snape said.
Slughorn was the head of Slytherin House again and nodded.
"Yes, he is good at everything Albus! Even history!" he said.
"He's as good as his mother at charms and I'm happy about that. A mini Lily Evans." Flitwick said smiling.
"And as good as James at transfiguration. He may be a one of your snakes Horace but I'm proud of my former lion." McGonagall said.
While they had their meeting they were getting curious about what will happen this year.
The next day they were having breakfast and talking about what happened to the meeting.
"So the Dark Lord is still thrilled you joined him and as an animagus will make it easier for him to find out things." Blaise said.
"Yup. I try and do it as good as I can." Harry said.
Later that afternoon Harry and Daphne were at the Three Broomsticks.
"So, how do you like being a Slytherin?" Daphne asked.
"It's good. No fighting, back turning and stuff like that." Harry said.
"Good. I'm glad you like it here."
"I've called Hogwarts home since first year." he said.
"I bet it feels good to be with people like you."
"Yeah, it does."
After they ate they went to visit Fred and George.
When they got there they bumped into Ron and Hermione. Fred and George saw them and stood there to watch what was going to happen.
"So, Potter and Greengrass are here." Ron said.
"So what? This is technically my building. Which means I can come anytime I want." Harry said.
"What do you mean your building?" Hermione asked.
"Harry bought this building and gave Fred and George after the Tri-wizard Tournament fourth year." Daphne said.
Ron and Hermione stood there in shock.
"It's true Ron, Hermione. He did buy this for us and gave us the money for our shop. So technically he could kick us out if he wants to." George said.
"With a war going on we need some fun." Harry said.
"Yes we do." Fred said smiling.
After that Harry and Daphne headed back to school.
Later after dinner Dumbledore told Harry he wanted to see him in his office.
When he got there he stood there and waited.
"Ah Harry you got my message."
He nodded.
"Enjoying your new classes?"
"Yes." he said.
"Professor Slughorn is most impressive."
"I think he overestimates my abilities sir. Just like any other professor is this year." he said.
Then Dumbledore stood up and headed to get something.
"You must be wondering why I summoned you here. The answer is this. These are memories of one person: Voldemort."
He stood there in shock.
"Or as he once was called, Tom Riddle."
Then he picked up a memory and looked at them.
"This vial has most sufficient memory." he started.
Harry waited.
"The day I first met him. I'd like you to see it."
So he poured the pensive into his memory holder and then they went inside.
He mounted the few steps leading to the front door and knocked once. After a moment or two, the door was opened by a girl wearing an apron.
"Good afternoon. I have an appointment with a Mrs. Cole."
"Oh, alright. Just a moment, MRS. COLE!" she bellowed over her shoulder.
She turned back to Dumbledore.
"Come in, she's on her way."
Dumbledore stepped into a hallway tiled in black and white. The whole place was shabby but very clean. When the front door had closed behind them, a skinny, harassed-looking woman came toward them. She had a sharp-featured face that appeared and was talking over her shoulder to another aproned helper as she walked toward Dumbledore.
"Good afternoon," said Dumbledore, holding out his hand. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. I sent you a letter requesting an appointment and you very kindly invited me here today."
Mrs. Cole blinked. Apparently deciding that Dumbledore wasn't a hallucination.
"Oh yes. Well then- you'd better come into my room." she said.
She led Dumbledore into a small room that seemed part sitting room, part office. It was as shabby as the hallway and the furniture was old and mismatched. She invited him to sit on a rickety chair while she sat behind a cluttered desk.
"I'm here, as I told you in my letter, to discuss Tom Riddle and arrangements for his future." said Dumbledore.
"Are you family?" asked Mrs. Cole.
"No, I am a teacher," he said. "I've come to offer Tom a place at my school."
"What school then?"
"It's called Hogwarts." said Dumbledore.
"And why are you interested in Tom?"
"We believe he has qualities we're looking for."
"You mean he's won a scholarship? How can he have done? He's never been entered for one."
"Well, his name has been down for our school since birth-"
"Who registered him? His parents?"
There was no doubt that Mrs. Cole was an inconveniently sharp woman. Apparently Dumbledore thought so too, he slip his wand out of his pocket, at the same time picking up a piece of perfectly blank paper from Mrs. Cole's desktop.
"Here," he said waving his wand once as he passed her the piece of paper. "I think this will make everything clear."
Mrs. Cole's eyes slid out of focus and back again as she gazed intently at the blank paper for a moment.
"That seems perfectly in order," she said placidly, handing it back.
Then her eyes fell upon a bottle of gin and two glasses that had certainly not been present a few seconds before.
"May I offer you a glass of gin?" she said.
"Thank you very much," said Dumbledore, beaming.
It soon became clear that Mrs. Cole was no novice when it came to gin drinking. Pouring both of them a generous measure, she drained her own glass in one gulp.
She smiled at Dumbledore for the first time, and he didn't hesitate to press his advantage.
"I was wondering whether you could tell me anything of Tom Riddle's history? I think he was born here in the orphanage?"
"That's right," said Mrs. Cole, helping herself to more gin.
"I remember it clear as anything, because I'd just started here myself. New Year's Eve and bitter cold, snowing, nasty night. And this girl, not much older than I was myself at the time, came staggering up the front steps. Well, she wasn't the first. We took her in, and she had the baby within the hour. She was dead in another hour."
Mrs. Cole nodded impressively and took another generous gulp of gin.
"Did she say anything before she died?" he asked. "Anything about the boy's father, for instance?"
"Yes, she did," said Mrs. Cole, who seemed to be rather enjoying herself now, with the gin in her hand and an eager audience for her story.
"I remember she said, 'I hope he looks like his papa,' and I won't lie, she was right to hope it, because she was no beauty- and then she told me he was to be named Tom, for his father, and Marvolo, for her father- yes, I know, funny name, isn't it? We wondered whether she came from a circus she said the boy's last name was to be Riddle. And she died soon after that without another word. Well, we named him just as she'd said, it seemed so important to the poor girl, but no Tom, Marvolo or any kind of Riddle ever came looking for him. Or any family at all, so he stayed in the orphanage and he's been here ever since." Mrs. Cole helped herself, almost absentmindedly, to another healthy measure of gin.
Then she said, "He's a funny boy."
"Yes," said Dumbledore. "I thought he might be."
"They're odd."
"He was a funny baby too. He hardly ever cried. And then, when he got a little older, he was… odd."
"Odd in what way?" asked Dumbledore gently.
"Well, he-" But Mrs. Cole pulled up short, and there was nothing blurry or vague about the inquisitorial glance she shot Dumbledore over her gin glass.
"He's definitely got a place at your school, you say?"
"Definitely," said Dumbledore.
"And nothing I say can change that?"
"Nothing," said Dumbledore.
"You'll be taking him away, whatever?"
"Whatever," repeated Dumbledore.
She decided she could trust him, because she said in a sudden rush,
"He scares the other children."
"You mean he is a bully?" asked Dumbledore.
"I think he must be," said Mrs. Cole, frowning slightly, "but it's very hard to catch him at it. There have been incidents... Nasty things..."
Dumbledore didn't press her. She took another gulp of gin.
"Billy Stubbs' rabbit... well, Tom said he didn't do it. And I don't see how he could have done, but even so, it didn't hang itself from the rafters, did it?"
"I shouldn't think so, no," said Dumbledore quietly.
"But I'm jiggered if I know how he got up there to do it. All I know is he and Billy had argued the day before. And then- well, Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop were never quite right afterwards, and all we ever got out of them was that they'd gone into a cave with Tom Riddle. He swore they'd just gone exploring, but something happened in there, I'm sure of it. And, there have been a lot of things... funny things."
She looked at Dumbledore again.
"I don't think many people will be sorry to see the back of him."
"You understand, I'm sure, that we will not be keeping him permanently?" said Dumbledore.
"He we'll have to return here every summer."
"Oh, well, that's better than a whack on the nose with a rusty poker." she said with a slight hiccup.
She got to her feet.
"I suppose you'd like to see him?"
"Very much." he said getting up too.
She led him out of her office and up the stone stairs.
"Here we are," said Mrs. Cole as they turned off the second landing and stopped outside the first door in a long corridor.
She knocked twice and entered.
"Tom? You've got a visitor. This is Mr. Dumbledore. He's come to tell you- well, I'll let him do it."
Dumbledore entered the room, and Mrs. Cole closed the door on them. It was a small bare room with nothing in it except an old wardrobe and an iron bedstead. A boy was sitting on top of the gray blankets, his legs stretched out in front of him, holding a book.
There was no trace of the Gaunts in Tom Riddle's face. Merope had got her dying wish: He was his handsome father in miniature, tall for eleven years old, dark-haired, and pale. His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in Dumbledore's eccentric appearance. There was a moment's silence.
"How do you do, Tom?" said Dumbledore, walking forward and holding out his hand.
The boy hesitated, then took it, and they shook hands. Dumbledore drew up the hard wooden chair beside Riddle, so that the pair of them looked rather like a hospital patient and visitor.
"I am Professor Dumbledore."
"'Professor'?" repeated Riddle. He looked wary. "Is that like 'doctor'? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?"
He was pointing at the door through which Mrs. Cole had just left.
"No, no," said Dumbledore, smiling. "I don't believe you," said Riddle.
"She wants me looked at, doesn't she? Tell the truth!" He spoke the last three words with a ringing force that was almost shocking.
It was a command, and it sounded as though he had given it many times before. His eyes had widened and he was glaring at Dumbledore, who made no response except to continue smiling pleasantly.
After a few seconds Riddle stopped glaring, though he looked, if anything, warier still.
"Who are you?"
"I have told you. My name is Professor Dumbledore and I work at a school called Hogwarts. I have come to offer you a place at my school- your new school, if you would like to come."
Riddle's reaction to this was most surprising. He leapt from the bed and backed away from Dumbledore, looking furious.
"You can't kid me! The asylum, that's where you're from, isn't it? 'Professor,' yes, of course- well, I'm not going, see? That old cat's the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they'll tell you!"
"I am not from the asylum," said Dumbledore patiently. "I am a teacher and, if you will sit down calmly, I shall tell you about Hogwarts. Of course, if you would rather not come to the school, nobody will force you-"
"I'd like to see them try," sneered Riddle.
"Hogwarts," Dumbledore went on, as though he had not heard Riddle's last words, "is a school for people with special abilities-"
"I'm not mad!"
"I know that you are not mad. Hogwarts is not a school for mad people. It is a school of magic."
There was silence. Riddle had frozen, his face expressionless, but his eyes were flickering back and forth between each of Dumbledore's, as though trying to catch one of them lying.
"Magic?" he repeated in a whisper.
"That's right," said Dumbledore.
"It's… it's magic, what I can do?"
"What is it that you can do?"
"All sorts," breathed Riddle.
A flush of excitement was rising up his neck into his hollow cheeks; he looked fevered.
"I can make filings move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to."
His legs were trembling. He stumbled forward and sat down on the bed again, staring at his hands, his head bowed as though in prayer.
"I knew I was different," he whispered to his own quivering fingers.
"I knew I was special. Always, I knew there was something."
"Well, you were quite right," said Dumbledore, who was no longer smiling, but watching Riddle intently. "You are a wizard."
Riddle lifted his head. His face was transfigured: There was a wild happiness upon it, yet for some reason it didn't make him better looking; on the contrary, his finely carved features seemed somehow rougher, his expression almost bestial.
"Are you a wizard too?"
"Yes, I am."
"Prove it," said Riddle at once, in the same commanding tone he had used when he had said, "Tell the truth."
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.
"If, as I take it, you are accepting your place at Hogwarts-"
"Of course I am!"
"Then you will address me as 'Professor' or 'sir.'"
Riddle's expression hardened for the most fleeting moment before he said, in an unrecognizably polite voice,
"I'm sorry, sir. I meant- please, Professor, could you show me-?"
Dumbledore drew his wand from an inside pocket of his suit jacket, pointed it at the shabby wardrobe in the corner, and gave the wand a casual flick. The wardrobe burst into flames.
Riddle jumped to his feet; howling in shock and rage. But as Riddle rounded on Dumbledore, the flames vanished, leaving the wardrobe completely undamaged.
Riddle stared from the wardrobe to Dumbledore; then, his expression greedy, he pointed at the wand.
"Where can I get one of them?"
"All in good time," said Dumbledore. "I think there is something trying to get out of your wardrobe."
And sure enough, a faint rattling could be heard from inside it. For the first time, Riddle looked frightened.
"Open the door," said Dumbledore.
Riddle hesitated, then crossed the room and threw open the wardrobe door. On the topmost shelf, above a rail of threadbare clothes, a small cardboard box was shaking and rattling as though there were several frantic mice trapped inside it.
"Take it out," said Dumbledore.
Riddle took down the quaking box. He looked unnerved.
"Is there anything in that box that you ought not to have?" asked Dumbledore. Riddle threw Dumbledore a long, clear, calculating look.
"Yes, I suppose so, sir," he said finally, in a expressionless voice.
"Open it," said Dumbledore. Riddle took off the lid and tipped the contents onto his bed without looking at them. There was a mess of small, everyday objects: a yo-yo, a silver thimble, and a tarnished mouth organ among them. Once free of the box, they stopped quivering and lay quite still upon the thin blankets.
"You will return them to their owners with your apologies," said Dumbledore calmly, putting his wand back into his jacket.
"I shall know whether it has been done. And be warned: Thieving is not tolerated at Hogwarts."
Riddle did not look remotely abashed; he was still staring coldly and appraisingly at Dumbledore.
At last he said in a colorless voice, "Yes, sir."
"At Hogwarts," Dumbledore went on, "we teach you not only to use magic, but to control it. You have- inadvertently, I am sure- been using your powers in a way that is neither taught nor tolerated at our school. You are not the first, nor will you be the last, to allow your magic to run away with you. But you should know that Hogwarts can expel students, and the Ministry of Magic- yes, there is a Ministry- will punish lawbreakers still more severely. All new wizards must accept that, in entering our world, they abide by our laws."
"Yes, sir," said Riddle again.
It was impossible to tell what he was thinking; his face remained quite blank as he put the little cache of stolen objects back into the cardboard box.
When he had finished, he turned to Dumbledore and said baldly, "I haven't got any money."
"That is easily remedied," said Dumbledore, drawing a leather money-pouch from his pocket. "There is a fund at Hogwarts for those who require assistance to buy books and robes. You might have to buy some of your spell books and so on secondhand, but-"
"Where do you buy spell books?" interrupted Riddle, who had taken the heavy money bag without thanking Dumbledore, and was now examining a fat gold Galleon.
"In Diagon Alley," said Dumbledore. "I have your list of books and school equipment with me. I can help you find everything-"
"You're coming with me?" asked Riddle, looking up.
"Certainly, if you-"
"I don't need you," said Riddle. "I'm used to doing things for myself; I go round London on my own all the time. How do you get to this Diagon Alley- sir?" he added, catching Dumbledore's eye.
Dumbledore handed Riddle the envelope containing his list of equipment, and after telling Riddle exactly how to get to the Leaky Cauldron from the orphanage, he said,
"You will be able to see it, although Muggles around you- non-magical people, that is- will not. Ask for Tom the barman- easy enough to remember, as he shares your name-"
Riddle gave an irritable twitch, as though trying to displace an irksome fly.
"You dislike the name 'Tom'?"
"There are a lot of Toms," muttered Riddle.
Then, as though he could not suppress the question, as though it burst from him in spite of himself, he asked,
"Was my father a wizard? He was called Tom Riddle too, they've told me."
"I'm afraid I don't know," said Dumbledore, his voice gentle.
"My mother can't have been magic, or she wouldn't have died," said Riddle, more to himself than Dumbledore.
"It must've been him. So- when I've got all my stuff- when do I come to this Hogwarts?"
"All the details are on the second piece of parchment in your envelope," said Dumbledore. "You will leave from King's Cross Station on the first of September. There is a train ticket in there too."
Riddle nodded. Dumbledore got to his feet and held out his hand again. Taking it, Riddle said,
"I can speak to snakes. I found out when we've been to the country on trips- they find me, they whisper to me. Is that normal for a wizard?"
"It is unusual," said Dumbledore, after a moment's hesitation, "but not unheard of."
His tone was casual but his eyes moved curiously over Riddle's face. They stood for a moment, man and boy, staring at each other. Then the handshake was broken; Dumbledore was at the door.
"Good-bye, Tom. I shall see you at Hogwarts."
Then they were out of the memory.
"Did you know sir, then?" Harry asked.
"That I had just met the most dangerous wizard? No. If I did I wouldn't have let him go. Over time while here at Hogwarts, Tom Riddle grew close to one particular teacher."
He looked at Harry.
"Can you guess who that teacher might be?"
"You didn't ask Professor Slughorn to come back simply to teach, did you Professor?" he asked.
"No, I didn't. You see the reason I brought him back is because he has something we need. But he won't give it to easily."
"You said Professor Slughorn would try and collect me." Harry started.
"I did." Dumbledore said.
"Do you want me to let him?" he continued.
"Yes."
He nodded and headed to Slytherin Common Room.
Chapter 12
When he got there he sat there quietly thinking about what to say to Voldemort at the next meeting.
Daphne, Draco, Theodore, Blaise and Astoria noticed he was sitting there thinking.
"Harry?" Daphne said.
He jumped and looked up.
"Oh, hi." he said.
"Something wrong?" Draco asked.
"Dumbledore had me go to his office because it's time for me to find out what happened to the Dark Lord and why he asked Slughorn to come back."
Everyone sat there in silence.
"You're going to tell him right? The Dark Lord?" Theodore asked.
"Of course I am! When he calls for a meeting. Our connection is closed after Snape teaching me Occlamency last year."
The others nodded then went to bed.
Two weeks later Harry was in his anamagus and saw Dumbledore come back from something.
While he did that he felt his arm burn. He winced and then headed to Snape's office.
When he got there he went back to himself and saw Snape open the door.
"Come on Potter. Let's see what we have this time." Snape said.
"I can already tell my head is going to be ready to split in half." Harry said.
When they got to Malfoy Manor Harry was a little nervous but hid it thanking his aunt and uncle for teaching him to hide his emotions as much as he could.
"My Lord." Snape said.
"Severus, where's Harry?" Voldemort asked.
"Right here My Lord." Harry said.
"Ah, sit down next to Bellatrix."
He nodded and sat down.
"Aunt Bella, Aunt Cissy." he said.
"Harry." they said together.
"Harry, I can tell you have something on your mind today. Let's start with you." Voldemort said.
Everyone noticed that to.
"I started to see a memory about the day you found out you were a wizard two weeks ago. And saw Dumbledore come back from nowhere a few minutes ago." he said and winced tightly feeling his scar burn like he thought it would.
"He was trying to find one of my other horcruxes. And wants you to find out how I made them."
"That's why he had Slughorn come back. Because I have a feeling there's a memory he played with." Harry said.
"What was he looking for?"
"Some kind of locket I think. I heard him say something about Slytherins locket."
"Alright. Tell me every memory you see and when you see it."
"Yes My Lord."
"Alright, Severus, anything from Order meetings?"
"They want to try and get Dumbledore to train Potter to defeat you. Potter is a very good lier now but will tell his friends and in the future his girlfriend Daphne Greengrass what they miss." Snape said.
Some of them smirked knowing that they were going out and getting closer from their children at Hogwarts while Harry turned bright red.
"Ah, young love. It never gets old. Many girls tried to go out with me over the years." Voldemort said.
Everyone looked at him in shock.
"Ok, let's just get back to work." Harry said.
After that they went back to school and Harry told his friends what's going on.
"So your jobs are to get to know Slughorn for some reason and keep the Dark Lord posted what you do at Dumbledore's office?" Blaise said.
"Pretty much. I can handle it though. I used to do a lot of stuff at my aunt and uncle's house." Harry said.
They all nodded and headed to dinner.
