The Riddle House had been abandoned for years, ever since Mr. and Mrs. Riddle and their son, Tom, had been found murdered inside. Someone had found a use for it. In a room at the very back of the mansion where a fire was roaring, sat a figure which, at a stretch, you might call a man. It small and shriveled with burnt black skin and a flat, serpent-like face. It had been placed in a high backed chair as it couldn't walk alone. It was deep in thought as it gazed at the burning fire. This was all that remained of Lord Voldemort. There was another man with him, sat in a chair in the corner. He was tall, slim and handsome with long black hair which fell around his shoulders. His name was Lucius Malfoy and he was avoiding looking at the shriveled creature on the chair at all costs. The creature's hissing unnerved him. It hissed as it thought out loud, as if in sharing its thought with the thick serpent which lay coiled at the foot of the chair.
"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..." Voldemort hissed out loud. "What does it mean?"
He had thought the prophecy referred to the Potters and their son Harry. His loyal servant, Severus Snape had revealed the prophecy to him and his spy within the Order of the Phoenix, Peter Pettigrew had revealed their location. Lord Voldemort had murdered them. First James, then Lily and then, finally, the infant Harry Potter. Yet, he had still died. The great muggle lover Albus Dumbledore had still managed to defeat him. Defeat but not kill—he had lived, thanks to the darkest of magical secrets. He hadn't been vanquished, merely delayed. So, did the prophecy refer to Dumbledore?
Voldemort dismissed that immediately. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..." That meant it was someone who hadn't been born yet.
There was another, he recalled. That night, many years ago, there had been two infants who the prophecy may have spoke of. The infants of the Potters and of the Longbottoms.
Could it be the Longbottom's child whom the prophecy spoke of?
He knew from what Lucius Malfoy had told him that Frank and Alice Longbottom were in Saint Mungo's—driven to insanity by his loyalist servants, who would be rewarded. He also knew that their son, Neville, was attending Hogwarts. Could it truly be him?
Voldemort closed his eyes, thinking hard. Prophecies were like riddles—full of misdirection and false speak. He had a sudden thought.
"Dursley," he hissed. Could the prophecy refer to the boy? Voldemort planned to kill the fat mudblood. He would never forgive Dudley Dursley for the humiliation he had felt a few years ago, when the brat had dared strike him in the face. Then, a year later, he had been told all about how Dudley Dursley had managed to defeat Slytherin's Serpent.
Lucius Malfoy had suffered the crucio curse—with his own wand—for giving that information to Voldemort. His form may be this shriveled shell, but he could still wield a wand and he could punish. His fury had known no bounds—the fool, Lucius had no idea what he had done. Had had no idea what the diary actually was. He had used it to try to frame a mudblood, risking a piece of Voldemort's soul in the process.
Voldemort had considered killing Malfoy then and there, but, unfortunately he still needed him. Malfoy still had a role to play. Without Malfoy, he would never regain his true body. He only hoped the diary was intact—lost in the depths of the Chamber of Secrets.
But, there was no denying it, by escaping the Serpent, Dursley had twice defied him. What if … could the prophecy be referring to a future offspring of the Mudblood brat?
It was possible, Voldemort mused. The prophecy didn't say when the chosen one could be born. Could it really be that the fat mudblood's offspring could fulfill the prophecy.
"Lucius …" Voldemort said, in his normal voice. He had had another sudden idea.
"Yes my lord?" Malfoy said.
"When did Dursley first enter the magical world?" Voldemort asked.
Lucius went over to a table where there was a stack of old issues of the Daily Prophet. Voldemort had ordered his servant to obtain these—every issue which had an article about any of his enemies: Dumbledore, Mad-Eye Moody, Gilderoy Lockhart, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minerva McGonagall and more. Know ones enemies and you know their weakness.
They were stacked separately, depending on who they were about.
Lucius rummaged through the stack, finding the first paper which featured an article about Dudley Dursley. It was about how he had saved the Philosopher's Stone from the halfwit Professor Quirrell."
It says "Dursley was actually in Hogwarts at the time of the first attempt to steal the stone, but didn't see anything suspicious." Malfoy read.
"The first attempt … July 31st …" Voldemort hissed, thoughtfully. What if born didn't refer to the typical birth, but meant a magical birth—Dudley's entering into the magical world and casting aside his muggle life? Could the prophecy refer to Dudley himself?
"Born as the seventh month dies"
It fit, Voldemort thought. Riddles were full of wordplay and metaphor. But what of the first part …
"Born to those who have thrice defied him"
That didn't fit. He found it very unlikely that the mudblodd's muggle parents could have defied him even once, let alone three times.
But, whether the prophecy referred to Dursley or his future child, the result was the same—he had to die.
Voldemort, however, found his thoughts turning back to Longbottom. He was definitely a possibility. He had, of course, considered Longbottom before, before deciding to kill the Potters first.
Both would die, Voldemort decided. The mudblood, he would have killed anyway, but Longbottom was a pureblood. He didn't wish to shed magical blood unless necessary, but there was no choice. The prophecy clearly referred to either Dursley or Longbottom. Both would die. He would leave nothing to chance.