Chapter 41

THE PROACTIVE STRATEGY

Legilimency was rarely used in teaching. I had found it satisfyingly efficient when I had taught Harry charms ahead of the curriculum during my two final years at Hogwarts, but the lessons I had given him paled in comparison to those that Karkaroff gave me. The former Durmstrang Headmaster and I were both talented in the mind arts, and our two-way mental connection caused what felt like a flood of knowledge from his mind to mine. Magical theories, incantations, wand movements, clever tricks and shortcuts, Arithmantic and Runic foundations of spells and hunches that would have been impossible to put into words… all that and more became my expertise with literally mind-numbing efficiency. It was staggering and downright glorious!

At the end of my first day of this incredibly fast learning my head ached and my mind was exhausted, but the topmost feeling was triumph. I had probably learned as much in one day as I had usually learned in two weeks at Hogwarts by listening to teachers and reading books. I was climbing the power ladder faster than anyone, and the difference between me and Voldemort (and Dumbledore) was shrinking.

"Don't get too smug," Karkaroff warned me. "It's one thing to master these arts and another to be able to use them effectively in a tough situation."

"I do remember," I said. "That's why I told you to plan duelling practices as well."

Soon we faced each other in an empty field. I had a wand in each hand, eager to finally fight a Dark wizard without anything at stake. Karkaroff wielded only one wand, but he still grinned confidently, thinking this rematch would be an easy way for him to repay the humiliation he had suffered in Lapland. Then the duel began.

The ex-Auror who was one of the instructors of the Kwikspell Company had been my sparring partner in over a hundred duelling lessons, and that experience against a professional made me much more capable than Karkaroff anticipated. However, Karkaroff's fighting style was much more aggressive, and to my unpleasant surprise, I actually found myself on the defensive immediately after my first initiative. I tried to gain the upper hand by defending with one wand and attacking with the other one, but Karkaroff just grimaced viciously and attacked even harder.

Eventually I had to admit that if I had not made Karkaroff to panic in our fight in Lapland by pretending to be Voldemort, I would have lost. In many ways, it was not a pleasant thing to realise, but on the other hand, it meant that Karkaroff could teach me more than I had thought.

Many of the spells Karkaroff used were unknown to me. He explained that the teachers of Durmstrang crafted new Dark spells all the time; it was part of the school's culture always to compete over who was the most dangerous fighter, and such an arms race had inspired the creation of many curses and theories behind them. They were usually only taught to the most promising students, but not every one of them had kept the secrets. Grindelwald had learned most of these exclusive Dark Arts before his expulsion, and he had gone on teaching them to his followers. Some of them, such as Antonin Dolohov and Karkaroff himself, had found a new master in Voldemort in the two decades after Grindelwald's defeat, and taught their Dark expertise to him. Learning Durmstrang's secret arts probably explained much of Voldemort's frighteningly quick rise, and now I had access to the same source of power.

Karkaroff's favourite curse was what he called the Whip of Malice. It was a combination of many basic curses, but it took the form of an extremely agile black tendril capable of twisting around corners and obstacles – including Shield Charms. Of course, Shields could be formed spherically, increasing the surface area, but at the same time decreasing the magical power of the Shield per each unit of the surface area. This way the Whip's insidious ingenuity forced the victim to choose between two vulnerabilities. Even if the tendril hit and shattered a Shield, it did not lose all of its magical power and could be used for more attacks, usually faster than a new Shield Charm could be cast. As Karkaroff lashed at me with it, I had to use both of my wands to create new Shields, and my plight seemed to give him great pleasure.

From the controlled and disciplined duelling we proceeded to actual fighting. Those practices did not take place in a field, but forests, mountainsides and large Muggle warehouses, where we were used broomsticks and Disillusionment and Supersensory Charms, Disapparated to safety and used all other methods we would use in a real fight. Dobby provided distractions as he had done when I had taught Harry. That way a fight could only be won by being creative and cold-blooded; to put it simply, it was a great way of becoming battle-hardened without actually being in mortal danger.

Learning through Legilimency and fighting – these were the two things that kept me very occupied, and the progress I made kept me very motivated. I could tell Karkaroff was impressed even though he never stooped so low as to admit it; clearly he realised that my boasts had not been unwarranted at all, and teaching a prodigy was obviously much better than teaching an arrogant braggart.

While my rise to power had begun, nothing else seemed to be happening in wizarding Britain. Every few days the Order of the Phoenix was summoned by Moody for little meetings in which he demanded status reports from all members. Sometimes these meetings took place in Greenane Castle, sometimes in Moody's own place, probably just to puzzle imaginary spies. I had hoped that the old Auror would have been a goal-oriented military leader to balance Dumbledore's passiveness, but it soon became clear that his cautiousness hindered him too much. He was a perfectionist, unwilling to do anything without meticulously polished plans; a great warrior, but a dreadful leader. As I listened to the Order members prattling endlessly about Lucius Malfoy's visits to the Ministry, the increased sales of the shops in Knockturn Alley, the peer support groups of werewolves and other such rubbish, I lost what was left of my faith in an organisation led by Dumbledore. If Voldemort was to be defeated, I had to take matters into my own hands.

Each time I visited Greenane Castle for the meetings, Harry and the others cornered me with the hope of hearing something interesting. If they had known what kind of waste of time the meetings were, they too would have been massively disappointed in the Order. It was something I could later use in order to make them lose their trust in Dumbledore.

Harry was cleared of all charges concerning the Dementor incident, and he was overjoyed to be going back to Hogwarts. One day at the end of August he spoke to me about communication.

"Mr Weasley warned us that letters can be intercepted and that we shouldn't write anything that the Death Eaters or the Ministry will find interesting. I'd like to be able to write to you, and not only about school stuff. We'll all be missing your guidance."

"Now that you mention it, I happen to have a solution to that problem," I said.

Among the magical items I had stolen from Durmstrang were a few pairs of two-way mirrors, the magical equivalent of a telephone. I asked Dobby to fetch one; he did it in a few seconds' time and handed the mirror to Harry.

"As far as I know, no outsider is able to see or hear what passes between these," I said with a grin. "Keep me updated on what happens at Hogwarts."

"Thanks, I will," Harry said. "By the way, I was chosen as prefect!"

"Enjoy it while you can," I said dryly. "No one respects prefects except other prefects and those who aspire to be one. True authority can only be gained through personal attributes, and formal positions just reflect the authority you have without them."

"It's not like I wanted this," Harry muttered. "I'd prefer avoiding attention."

"Tough luck," I said, patted his shoulder and left the Headquarters. I had wasted too much time with the Order nonsense, and I had to make up for the loss by practicing with Karkaroff longer than usual.

At the end of the day I was exhausted, but greatly satisfied by how soon I was becoming a better fighter than Karkaroff. The Whip of Malice was easy to use once I had fully grasped the complex theory behind it, and using two of them with my two wands at the same time was a devastating weapon. As I lay in my bed before falling to sleep, I wondered how much more learned I was than Voldemort had been at my exact age. Then my thoughts wandered to what my brother was doing at the moment.

Perhaps that had something to do with the dream I had right after quite abruptly falling asleep.

I felt fury rising in my chest, and Lucius Malfoy cowered in fear.

"You gave away the diary I entrusted you for such a petty purpose?" I shrieked. "Where is it now?"

"I do not know, Master!" Lucius wailed. "It was the Weasley girl I gave it to. In the autumn Draco told me that the Chamber of Secrets was opened again, and there were several attacks against Mudbloods. I managed to convince the Board of Governors to fire Dumbledore, but unfortunately it was only temporary. Later there were rumours that the Weasley girl had been taken into the Chamber, but apparently it was Harry Potter himself who rescued her."

"Are you telling me that the diary ended up with Dumbledore?!" I screamed in terror. "Answer me, vermin!"

"Master… I was there right after Dumbledore returned! I did not see the diary with him, nor did he mention it at all. But he did claim that you had possessed the Weasley girl and opened the Chamber through her."

I slammed Lucius to the floor with a flick of Macnair's wand. Each look at the substandard wand filled me with anger, and once again I wanted to punish the arrogant thief with the Cruciatus Curse. Tom Valedro – such a distasteful name!

But one step at a time. The diary might still be in the Chamber of Secrets. I would regain it once I took over the Ministry, killed Dumbledore and claimed my home.

I woke up as abruptly as I had fallen asleep. I had no doubt that I had seen a true vision from Voldemort's mind through the kinship of our souls. If it could happen this way, there surely was a possibility of it happening the other way too. Luckily it had not happened; I knew this, because Voldemort had no idea who I truly was. And I had no intention of letting him know, at least for now. That meant practicing Occlumency meditation much more frequently. As long as he remained ignorant of this connection, I might see more glimpses of his mind, and the strategic importance of such an advantage could not be overestimated.

Harry and the others had a lot to tell me after the first day of classes.

"Our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is Dolores Umbridge from the Ministry," Harry told me through the mirror. "She's disgusting! We won't be learning any spells, just reading the stupid textbook! And she refuses to believe that Voldemort has returned!"

"Fudge has surely sent her here to keep an eye on what is happening," said Hermione. "Most students seem to believe the Prophet's propaganda."

"Remus told us that Dumbledore offered the teaching position to you," Ron said grumpily. "I guess we've got you to blame for this."

"Hardly," I said. "If the Defence position hadn't been open, Fudge would've put Umbridge in some other position. He could've had Binns exorcised and then Umbridge made the History Professor, and you would've lost many relaxing hours. And I couldn't have made my own curriculum as the Defence Professor, Fudge would've made sure of it."

"But what are we going to do?" Harry asked. "We can, of course, continue our fighting sessions in the Room of Requirement, but there are so few of us. All students should be taught actual defence, at least all except Slytherins – no offence…"

"None taken. But consider this as an opportunity. Start gathering followers, convince them of your leadership, earn their trust, fashion their loyalty…"

"Hey, stop that!" Harry exclaimed. "You know I'm not like that!"

"It's high time for you to leave your comfort zone, Mr Prefect. Look at the children around you. Their survival may depend on you taking the burden of leadership and teaching them the skills and knowledge I've taught you."

But Harry was adamant. His fellow students had believed that he was the heir of Slytherin, they had believed he had entered the Triwizard Tournament out of vainglory and now they believed he told lies about Voldemort's return to get even more attention. His inability to deal with social problems was becoming a hazard.

My Gryffindor friends complained to me about Umbridge over and over again in our conversations, especially after Harry had spent many evenings in detention with her. Their hate towards her was contagious, and sometimes I too found myself planning ways to get rid of her.

"What should we do about her?" Harry growled one night two weeks after the term had started.

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked without pausing to think. "Assassinate her, dump her carcass somewhere and cast the Dark Mark over her. That way we'll get rid of her, but also give some strong evidence to the Ministry about Voldemort's return. I prefer killing two birds with one stone."

"But – we can't do that!"

"Why? What makes you value the life of Dolores Umbridge so much?"

"Tom," Hermione said in a reproaching tone, "I'm afraid you sometimes forget morals."

"Rubbish. We've discussed this before. Voldemort is a threat to the entire world. People must be warned about his return. Dumbledore could've forced Fudge to prepare for war as I suggested, but he chose not to. How are you going to justify your lack of actions if Voldemort ends up winning because not enough people were prepared? Are you going to say, 'At least Umbridge got to live,' or what?"

"There's got to be another way!"

Another way… there was always another way, but only someone with the mindset of a Slytherin was able to consider all the advantages and disadvantages of each one of them.

My intense learning course with Karkaroff had lasted for more than a month already, and I was getting concerned about lapsing back into the apathy that usually resulted from getting too used to whatever I was doing, no matter how motivating. What I had begun to miss was some juicy social manipulation.

That was why I decided to speak with Dumbledore about a certain matter.

"I've heard how the Ministry is intervening at Hogwarts," I said to the Headmaster after one of Moody's excruciatingly boring update reports. "Harry is very displeased with Umbridge's teaching."

"So am I," Dumbledore admitted. "But there is nothing I could do about it. The Ministry is eager to get new reasons to interfere in my business."

"Maybe an unofficial solution would be the best one. I've been thinking about your offer, and teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts is the part that is meaningful – but not the other things that accompany it, namely conforming to a curriculum, reading homework, grading papers and becoming the target of the curse. I'd like to return to Hogwarts as a guest who just happens to be leading a study group for trust-worthy students."

Dumbledore gave me the most mischievous expression I had ever seen from him. "Do not tell me anything else," he said. "It is better that I know as little as possible. Your idea will not have any official backing, but as long as the Ministry does not get any wind about this and ban any such activity, it does not go against rules. If you are caught, I will have to renounce you. Come, and I will make the Hogwarts wards accept your presence again."

I grinned. This was how a shadowy organisation meant to undermine Dumbledore (among many others) was born under his very nose.

"As I told you before, I trust you to be worthy of the authority this gives you," Dumbledore lectured as we took a Portkey to his office at Hogwarts. Once there, he moved next to a wall and touched an inconspicuous stone in it. I tried to make sense of what he was doing – most likely the stone was a ward stone like the one I had used in the Chamber of Secrets. "Alas, not all leaders realise the most important thing about leadership – that the best leaders are those who do not seek power, but take it reluctantly. All my life I have tried to follow this wisdom. I do not care about power, and it shields me from the temptation that made Lord Voldemort, Fudge and many others what they are."

I could not keep an incredulous expression off my face. 'I do not care about power,' said the Headmaster of Hogwarts who was also the leader of a paramilitary secret society and until recently the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards.

"I cannot question any wisdom based on such a long life experience," I said with such false sweetness that it was a small miracle that he did not seem to notice it. "I will try my best to be a leader like you."

He smiled, oblivious to the insult I had just thrown at him, and I left the office.

Hogwarts, back at home again! Just a few months ago I had left as a hero of the school, and now I had returned to unite the students against their common enemy, the Ministry-appointed High Inquisitor Umbridge.

I was leaning against a wall when the door to Umbridge's classroom opened and the fifth-year Gryffindors came out, looking subdued and bored. Harry, Ron and Hermione noticed me at once and came closer, suddenly grinning.

"What are you doing here?"

"I've got a new hobby," I said and cast the Anti-Eavesdropping Charm. "It involves casting spells and running – and I wouldn't mind if there were other people mimicking me and learning from example."

"You're continuing our study group?" Harry said, beaming.

"But on a much larger scale. That's what I need your help with. Spread the word, and all students will have the opportunity to learn Defence Against the Dark Arts this year. We're done wasting the little time we have before the war begins!"

"When will we meet?"

"Come to the Room of Requirement after dinner. I'll go and find Diggory; as Head Boy he will be able to recruit the prefects to spread the word too."

The three Gryffindors left with new spirit and defiance in them.

Finding Cedric Diggory was easy with the help of the Marauder's Map. He too was really eager to form a study group for Defence; his family believed in Dumbledore, and he also had his NEWTs to worry about. He promised to let the prefects know, and I proceeded to find the next three people: Draco, Theo and Sara with whom I had not been in any contact after the end of June.

I encountered Draco and Theo in the dungeon corridor leading to the Slytherin common room during lunch break after they had left the Great Hall. Their eyes widened when they saw me, and they followed silently when I gestured towards one of the unused dungeon rooms.

"Tom, is something going on?" Draco asked.

"This and that. Theo, fetch Sara, please. I need to speak to all of you."

Theo nodded grimly and obeyed. I had seen that Sara had left the Great Hall mere moments after the fifth-year Slytherins, and it did not take more than ten seconds for Theo to meet Sara. Then we were all in the dungeon room, and I studied their faces.

"Did you have an interesting summer?"

The children of Death Eaters exchanged meaningful glances.

"It was… tense," Draco said. "I have never seen my father so anxious before."

"Were any of you interrogated?"

"Not directly. The Dark Lord asked my father and Theo's grandfather about you, and they asked us something about what kind of person you are."

"I didn't go home all summer," Sara said. "I was at Daphne's, and my parents were very understanding. Ethan visited me a few times and told that Father had not mentioned me to the Dark Lord at all."

This was good news. At least some Death Eaters were more loyal to their families than to Voldemort.

"Well, tell me, what are your opinions of the Dark Lord?"

"Everything took a turn to the worse, there's no denying that," Draco said bluntly. "I thought the Dark Lord would be a leader of the pure-bloods. Someone who treats all noble families with respect, not someone who bosses them around and rules through fear."

"And what do you think about Professor Umbridge?"

"We know why she's here. Her classes are as boring as History, but worse because we've got to actually pay attention."

"Yes, the Ministry does not want Dumbledore to train his students to fight against the Ministry," I said. "However, I tricked the old fool into allowing me to form a study group."

Draco, Theo and Sara all looked as pleased as the Gryffindors when hearing this news.

"We have continued the Slytherin Duelling Club, you know," Draco said.

"That is good, but my group is much more ambitious. I'm going to teach students from all Houses from now on – yes, even Gryffindors. Remember what I said about Harry Potter two years ago: Dumbledore wants him to be his puppet and political asset. We're making him our puppet instead! The brat is already indebted to me because of my help in the Triwizard Tournament. You haven't been bickering with him for two years now, and the time has come for you to actually befriend him."

"I guess I can try," Draco said. "I just hope the Dark Lord won't hear about this."

"We must be cautious for many reasons. Come to the seventh floor after dinner, and bring as many Slytherins with you as you can. The meeting place is in a secret room by the corridor with the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy."

Draco and Theo promised to come there and left, but I gestured Sara to stay.

"How are you brothers?" I asked.

"Robert was forced to take the Dark Mark," she said, looking quite frightened. "Ethan's turn will be soon, but currently he has only been told to gather information from inside the Ministry. He works in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and knows the safety policies."

"I've not dared to contact him, but I will before the war begins. If we're going to defeat Voldemort, we will need help from him and many others."

"I hope this will be solved quickly." Sara looked visibly more stressed and unhappy than she had the previous year. "The Dark Lord has brought only trouble to my family, as well as to Draco and Theo's families. We Slytherins have always gained the most advantages during peacetime."

"We all hope for a quick solution," I said solemnly. It was probably better not to mention that I was very willing to continue the fight after Voldemort's defeat with Dumbledore as the new enemy.

It was exhilarating to watch as over a hundred Hogwarts students flowed into the Room of Requirement, all willing to learn from me. Everyone's favourite Triwizard champion had returned, and the presence of Head Boy, Head Girl and all prefects made even Hufflepuffs think I was just arranging an extra-curricular course that did not defy the authority of the Ministry or the High Inquisitor.

"Welcome, my apprentices," I said. "I've heard your current Defence Against the Dark Arts course is rather theoretical. Someone suggested a more practical study group, and here I am, teaching you to use the theoretical knowledge in practice."

Few revolutionary groups were formed with such a jovial speech. These children had no idea that this study group would one day rule the world!

"We will be meeting here every day after dinner –"

"Hey! What about our Quidditch practices?" someone shouted.

"All right, let me be clearer," I said, annoyed. "I will be here every day after dinner. Those who want me to teach them are welcome to learn. If you prefer practicing Quidditch instead, go ahead. The lack of Defence skills may be the death of you, but at least you had fun playing Quidditch."

The cheery atmosphere became graver. I shrugged and went on.

"Those of you who participated in Professor Lockhart's Duelling Club know the basics of the art of duelling. However, many of you do not. First I need a volunteer to demonstrate in a duel."

Of the many volunteers I chose one of the Weasley twins, because as a seventh year student he had a decent amount of power and skill.

"The duelling protocol is as follows," I said. "The combatants first face each other, then bow, then turn around and take a few steps before turning around again and taking their positions. Let us show you."

I stepped to face the Weasley twin, we bowed, and turned around. However, I continued to turn until I had done a full circle and faced the Weasley twin's back.

"Expelliarmus," I said and in flash of red light his wand left his hand and flew to me.

He turned around, looking insulted and confused. The audience that had been absolutely silent for a moment began to mumble in an indignant tone.

"Tell me," I said, turning to face the audience, "what is the mistake that Mr Weasley did?"

"What do you mean, mistake?" Ron shouted. "You cheated!"

"Any other guesses?"

No one spoke.

"Mr Weasley's mistake was that he thought I would honour the rules," I proclaimed. "Duelling is a sport. I'm not here to train you to sport. I'm here to train you to fight! Whether or not you believe in the Headmaster's proclamation of the return of the Dark Lord, you must understand the need to be able to defend against the Dark Arts. Every generation seems to have its own Dark Lord, and in many countries there are nothing but Dark wizards. Most of them are maniacal terrorists who will use any methods necessary to kill you! If you try to fight them according to rules, you will die. Only if you know that your enemy will honour rules, you may honour them too. Against Dark wizards you must fight using the same methods they use. I know there are many people here who wish to follow Albus Dumbledore's example. Unfortunately, everyone does not have the privilege of the most powerful wizard of our time: to be idealistic and still live. During the last war there was a much more practical person in charge, too. Bartemius Crouch. I will train you to follow his methods. If you prefer dying, you are free to leave."

No one left.

"But first things first. Before I train you to fight, I must train you to follow orders. There are many Gryffindors in here, and it is a common Gryffindor trait to just follow one's instincts and do what one believes must be done. War is a chaotic situation, and it can be won only by being orderly yourself. I will, at a future point, train you to act individually, but not before you have learned to act together."

The first drill for my new army was to form lines and follow simple orders such as taking a step forward or a turn left, all in synchrony with others. It was a good thing I had used Legilimency on Muggle military officers and learned what was considered a good way of creating team spirit for soldiers. Marching in neat lines had been how Muggles had acted in battles in the 18th century, but doing so had continued in military traditions. Soldiers stopped being individuals and became parts of a unit. They were like limbs of a body, following the orders the brains gave.

And in this study group I was going to be the brains! It would be a horrible shock to both Voldemort and Dumbledore when I would take the initiative and mess up whatever they had planned.

Posted on the 2nd of May, 2021.