Chapter 52

THE LAST RESPITE

It was my great moment of triumph, but everyone looked – underwhelmed. They had probably been expecting some kind of a flashy duel like the one between Dumbledore and Grindelwald. Explosions and clouds of smoke were usually produced by amateurs while professionals did what they wanted to do with bursts of invisible radiation.

"What did you do?" Harry asked.

"I proved my superiority," I said. "Don't look so stunned! We won! The war is over! Don't you think I deserve some cheers and applause?"

"We can tell the troops you did something worth seeing," Aberforth grunted. Behind his beard and moustache, he looked somewhat impressed. "They'll cheer and applause as much as you like."

"Yes, you should do so," I said and put all of my Horcruxes inside my robes again.

Aberforth turned and left. He was followed by Lucius, Theodore, Robert Jugson and Karkaroff. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Remus and Sirius stayed in the room with me, still looking as if they did not know what to think.

"Let's take Voldemort corpse out and let the troops play with it," I said. Everyone looked at me more intently than normally, and as Remus opened his mouth to ask something, I realised that I had not put my disguising charms back on.

"It's been so many years since I've seen you without your disguising charms that I'd forgotten how you really look like," Harry said.

"Yes, well," I replied, "I probably should put them back on before –"

My words were cut short when Albus Dumbledore entered the room. He stopped at the doorway and stared at the carcass of Voldemort for a brief while, then looked at Harry, then at me. He beheld the young Tom Riddle right in front of his eyes – but there was just an expression of mild confusion on his face. It was as if he did not recognise me.

"So, it is over, then," he said, looking at Harry once more. "Congratulations, Harry, I knew you could do it. The prophecy is now complete. You have defeated a Dark Lord, just as I did fifty-one years ago. I must confess, I had little hope it could be accomplished with such rash action."

He smiled, but it did not seem genuine. Harry noticed it too, and he spluttered something unintelligible, as if fearing he would be put to detention. Dumbledore waved his wand and cast a few diagnostic charms on Voldemort.

"Everything seems to be as it should be," he said. "There are no signs of his soul lingering, unlike last time. I thought he had a Horcrux or more to bind him to the mortal world. Did you find and destroy them?"

"Hor… what?" Harry said blankly.

"Dark magic used to gain a bleak semblance of eternal life." Dumbledore looked at me again.

I did not know what game he was playing, but decided to play along.

"I found them," I said. "They've been dealt with."

"Then, Tom, you are another hero of today's victory over evil," Dumbledore said, still believing that Harry had finished Voldemort off. "Now we must hurry to keep Britain from descending into chaos. This horrible war must come to an end, and I trust you are willing to restore the Ministry of Magic and the Wizengamot to power."

The threat was obvious, and I could not defeat Dumbledore in a duel. But the question was: why had he not already attacked me? Did he really think I believed he did not recognise me?

What was going on? Did he want me to escape? Did he actually want a new war with me as the enemy? For the umpteenth time I wondered if Dumbledore truly wanted more people to die for some twisted reason.

"Of course," I said with false sweetness. "There's no need for martial law anymore."

"Excellent," Dumbledore replied with another one of his unconvincing smiles. "Oh, by the way, Tom… why the disguise?"

I tensed up. Did he pretend to think I was now under disguising charms?

"Oh, I just wanted to hide my true identity," I said airily.

He just nodded, as if it was not a big deal. My heart raced. It was not a good sign that my enemy could confuse me this much with so little effort.

He wants to torment me before he kills me, came into my mind.

Dumbledore levitated Voldemort's corpse out of the manor and I could only follow him. If I had not been filled with doubts and confusion, I would have been furious at how he had come with the apparent desire to steal the glory of victory from me.

What should I do? I wondered, initiating an internal debate.

There is no advantage to be gained by hesitating, came an answer from my calculative side. You should kill him before he kills you. Do it now, before he steps out into the open! He has his back turned! Use the Killing Curse!

There are still too many witnesses, argued my cautious side. Remus did not join me out of loyalty, and I don't think Harry and the other children would stick with me if I murdered Dumbledore for no apparent reason…

You are weak! snarled a third voice, an angry and pessimistic one. Did you not call your brother an idiot for his failures just a moment ago? What would you call yourself, I wonder, if you had heard that you had surrendered your victory to Dumbledore without any resistance whatsoever?

This is different! my cautious side said. He wouldn't turn his back on me if he did not anticipate surviving any surprise attack I could possibly manage. He's got some unbelievably strong advantage over me, and I want to know what it is before doing anything!

You were not concerned about unknown advantages earlier today, were you? asked the third voice. Your army still stands with you. Use the Sonorus Charm and declare that Dumbledore is Lord Voldemort using the Polyjuice Potion! Hundreds of people will fire curses at him! No advantage will be strong enough against an entire army! Do it! Do it! DO IT NOW!

We had stepped out of the manor. People on broomsticks were cheering and applauding, and my brief moment of heeding the advice of the third voice was wasted.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, "you left Hogwarts without permission, but considering the service you have done for the wizarding world, I will not discipline you or anyone who accompanied you. But there is still a week of school left before the summer holidays. You must return to Hogwarts. It may seem annoying, but there is something you can do to use the time productively. Since you are no longer in need of your mother's protection, you do not need to return to your relatives. Perhaps your godfather is willing to help you arrange your future living conditions."

"Er – OK," Harry said, probably feeling as distracted as I did.

"I fear I will be quite preoccupied for some time," Dumbledore said. "Tom, since you have led your courageous study group to victory, I hope you will return to Hogwarts as the Potions master at least for a week. You see, there is still some Potions related paperwork to do, and I simply do not have the time to do it myself!"

I stared at him incredulously. Was that really his idea of a sufficient reward for someone whose leadership had just saved the nation from a prolonged war?

Better to play along, said my cautious side.

Access to Hogwarts may offer an opportunity to unravel this mystery, said my calculative side. Keep your enemy close!

"All right, it is my job, after all," I said.

You are an idiot! screamed the third voice.

The angry third voice kept yelling at me over the next hour, and my cautious and calculative sides had little to say in defence. Dumbledore took the matter of rearranging Britain into his own hands without letting me even to point out how he had been just an obstacle in the campaign of securing peace. Unfortunately, most of my army did not seem to mind. There were hundreds of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws who had fought for peace and not for me, and the Ministry employees took it for granted that everything would return to normal. And so I found myself standing mutely in the same group with Lucius, Theodore and the other Slytherins while Dumbledore gave orders. We all knew that trying to wrestle command from Dumbledore would have resulted in a new political rift. Our political situation was much better than it had been, there was no doubt about it, but the revolution had failed all of a sudden due to the appearance of Albus bloody Dumbledore!

Distasteful as it was, I had to admire Dumbledore for his boldness. It took some nerve to just show up on the field of battle after the war had ended and demand respect from the people who had done all the hard work. But what else could one expect from someone who had stolen all nuclear weapons in the world?

And so, when midnight was close, I found myself at Hogwarts again, saying polite but not very heartfelt words of gratitude to the members of the study group. Finally, when everyone else had left from the Room of Requirement to their common rooms, I stayed there with Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, and I felt a growing disappointment. The others, on the other hand, were feeling happier by the minute.

"I can't believe it's over," Ron said. He seemed to be bursting from the seams with happiness. "When You-Know-Who returned, I imagined we would face a lifetime of war. But now… it's already over! So quickly!"

"And almost without casualties!" Hermione added.

"Thanks to you, Tom," Ginny said with a radiant smile. "But why are you so morose?"

They could see the empty feeling of let-down that was swelling in me, and looked at me with curiosity and concern.

"Cheer up, mate, you're a hero!" Ron said.

"It's just –" I said, ruffling my hair in frustration. "I just think this is so unfair. I'm a hero, you say? To you, yes, but most people will have no interest in Voldemort's defeat after a very short while. To them the war will just seem a false alarm."

"So what?" Hermione asked. "We know you're a hero! Isn't it enough that those who matter to you know it?"

"Well… all right, I'll be frank with you. I am a Slytherin, after all, and I live by Salazar's wisdom: anything can be an opportunity. When Voldemort returned, I was not overly anxious about it, because I saw it as an opportunity. You know, to shake the political status quo and to use the threat as a shortcut to power. I hoped Voldemort would be my stepping stone to greatness, as Grindelwald was to Dumbledore."

Harry shook it head. "You're overestimating the importance of fame."

"But I'm not like you, Harry. You will certainly be happy to live as a normal person, someone who goes to school, gathers points for Gryffindor and plays Quidditch. To me such a life would seem absolutely boring! I'm a Slytherin because I've got ambition! I always need something meaningful to do, some great goals to achieve, some achievements to reach. Otherwise I'll lapse into apathy, and everything feels hollow."

"And you think," Hermione asked slowly, "that's unfair? Would you like to find purpose in life from more humble things like we do?"

"No, I didn't mean that. What is unfair is that my victory over Voldemort will be just a minor event in the history of wizarding Britain, because I was so successful. Compare this fiasco to Dumbledore and Grindelwald. For some reason I still don't understand Dumbledore waited for a very long time before he finally confronted Grindelwald and defeated him. During that time millions of people died – even a hundred million if we count all casualties of the Muggle war and all people killed in the genocides and because of famines and epidemics. Dumbledore had the power to defeat Grindelwald, but he waited. That means those hundred million deaths are, in a way, Dumbledore's fault. Yet he is considered the greatest hero of the wizarding world ever – just because he allowed Grindelwald first to commit such atrocities that they made him the most monstrous wizard who has ever lived. And then what? Dumbledore never bothered to prevent Muggles from committing new atrocities."

I paced back and forth, but it did little to temper my agitation.

"And what is my accomplishment? I defeated Voldemort with such efficiency that most of the wizarding world didn't even realise the danger. But what if I had chosen the methods of Dumbledore? A hundred million people might've died! In a way I saved those people! How do they thank me? By saying, 'Oh, I guess the returned Voldemort wasn't such a menace after all, let's just carry on with our lives.'"

The Gryffindors looked at me, clearly not quite able to sympathise with me.

"That's what I consider unfair," I said, sitting down again with a huff. "Dumbledore got rewarded mightily because of his barely adequate accomplishment, but I'm only getting half-hearted thanks for nothing less than a perfect one."

"I hope you're not regretting that Voldemort was defeated before he committed more mass murders," Hermione said.

"No, not at all," I said. "But it is a little difficult to feel happy when the goal I had for years is now reached. I need a new goal to satisfy my ambition. But what? Life doesn't offer opportunities like this on a regular basis. There are no other Voldemorts roaming the world. And Voldemort was but an amateur compared to Grindelwald. It took the entire united wizarding world to defeat him and his forces, and even then the massive Muggle armies were needed to help. Compared to it, even Voldemort's First War was just a fight in a schoolyard."

I stopped this monologue right here, because dim as they were, my Gryffindor friends might still realise the obvious next thought. If I wanted to gain power, fame and glory by defeating someone of massive importance, my next target would obviously be Dumbledore. He played some game with me, and it did not bode well, but even if he had not seen me without my disguise, his defeat would still have been my next goal. I needed to ruin his reputation somehow… and once the wizarding world would consider him a monster, I would strike him down and gain my just reward.

This plan had to be presented to my Gryffindor friends with care, because they still trusted Dumbledore and were very unwilling to start another fight. I looked at them, young people happy about the victory over evil. How did one manipulate them to go to another war? Harry, on a closer look, seemed more thoughtful than the others.

"What is it, Harry?" I asked, hoping to find the right trigger to provoke him.

"I just wondered," he said. "You're right, Tom, Voldemort was nowhere near as dangerous as Grindelwald. But… how could such a pushover have a prophecy about him?"

"What prophecy?" I asked blankly.

"The one in the Department of Mysteries, the one Voldemort wanted to get. That's why he tried to trick me into going there to fetch it."

"Oh, that one!" I said. I had totally forgotten about it, because I had had so many things to do after the adventure in the Department of Mysteries. "We never learned what it was about."

"I did," Harry said. "Dumbledore told me what the prophecy was afterwards. It goes like this, 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…'"

I could only stare at Harry. How had this extremely important piece of information eluded me for so long?

"Dumbledore thought it meant that only I could defeat Voldemort, or else he would kill me. But I didn't defeat him! You did, Tom."

"Blimey," Ron said. "Trelawney said that if someone acts on a prophecy, it will be fulfilled. You-Know-Who acted on that one, right?"

"He marked me as his equal by giving me this scar," Harry explained. "So, what does this mean?"

"Let me think," I said and stood up again.

The prophecy opened many kinds of possibilities. Perhaps Voldemort had created some Horcrux I knew nothing about. If he had hidden it in a place he had visited during the long years he had been travelling the world alone, it might be impossible to find. That way, he could return again and again, and then, no doubt, I would be the one he would like to punish.

It was feasible. Dumbledore had said that there had been no signs of Voldemort's soul lingering, but why in Atlantis would I believe anything he said? He had clearly been playing some incredibly high-level game the entire time he had been in Crouch Manor.

Or perhaps… perhaps the prophecy considered me as Voldemort, and it would be fulfilled only after either Harry or I killed the other one. It would be so absurd! James and Lily Potter did not defy me thrice, and I never marked Harry as my equal! But then again, whatever Goddess of Destiny there was that sent hints about the future to the mortal world, she was known of being infuriatingly approximate. It would be totally in character for her to consider Voldemort and me the same person regardless of how I had been a separate entity for more than half a century!

If this was the case, my next goal was crystal clear – and to heck with Dumbledore, his stupid games and even the stockpile of nuclear weapons he had hoarded! If I had somehow been forced into the role of the Dark Lord of this prophecy, there was just one possible course of action. It filled me with sorrow; Harry was the first true friend I had ever made – but I could not afford to let feelings like this to hinder me. I would not give up my immortal life for any sentimental reasons.

No matter how much it displeased me, Harry Potter would have to die.

Albus Dumbledore sat in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts. On the table in front of him was the chess board that he had used for decades to symbolise the shifts in the strategic situation. Now that Voldemort was dead and the entire Death Eater organisation disintegrated, Dumbledore removed the black queen and all of the remaining black pawns from the board. It was a quiet ceremony.

He felt a bit disappointed. The war had ended so quickly that the casualties had been low. Widespread death had been the best chance for Dumbledore to advance in his great plan.

It was time for another shift in the war and for a new strategy. With a flick of the Elder Wand, Dumbledore moved both the white king and the black king near the centre of the chess board. Those two pieces that both represented him, the mastermind behind both sides of the war, were stepping into action.

Dumbledore stood up and opened one of the cabinets in his office. It was, in fact, a Vanishing Cabinet which was connected to Nurmengard where his old friend and enemy was imprisoned. Dumbledore decided to visit him and tell him the news.

Just a moment later he looked at the old, haggard heap of rags, skin, bones and white hair.

"Hello, my old friend," Dumbledore said. "Sherbet lemon?" When met with silence, he continued. "I think you are happy to know that Tom Riddle has been defeated, for good this time."

There was no emotion in the old, weary eyes that looked back at him.

"However, it happened sooner than I had hoped," Dumbledore continued. "Just as before, I tried to use this new war to cause so much death that the owner of the Resurrection Stone would lose some of his loved ones and reveal himself when calling them back from the other side of the Veil. Now, at least, I know that someone has the Stone in possession, because the ring it was attached to was taken from the Gaunt shack some time ago."

Dumbledore brandished the Elder Wand fondly and took a black fabric from his pocket.

"The Cloak of Invisibility was an heirloom of the Potter family. Young Harry has no idea that the cloak I gave him is just an ordinary invisibility cloak and that the real heirloom remains with me… for the Greater Good, obviously. Only one Hallow remains."

The old prisoner stared at him. There was a slight expression on his face. It showed his resigned disapproval.

"Harry and his friends, especially Tom, are very resourceful. Once I tell them that the Resurrection Stone is a way of undoing the Dark Lord's atrocities, they will find it for me in no time. And once they do…"

Dumbledore flicked the Elder Wand, and the illusion he had worn for five decades dissipated. Standing in front of the prisoner was not an old wizard with silvery beard and twinkling eyes, but a youthful golden haired man who looked a hundred years younger than he was, thanks to the Philosopher's Stone he had stolen from the Flamels using one of his diabolically complicated plots.

"Once they do… once they bring the last of the Deathly Hallows to me," the young-looking man said, smirking triumphantly, "my quest for dominance will be completed. The entire world will bow down before me, the master of Death… the one true Dark Lord: Gellert Grindelwald."

There was pain in the eyes of the real Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore who had been the miserable prisoner of Nurmengard ever since 1945 when he had failed to defeat the owner of the invincible Elder Wand.

Posted on the 3rd of July, 2021.

The next chapter will be posted on the 4th of July, 2021.