Riddle, Tom Marvolo (1927 - )
…. Riddle was early recognized
for his stellar talents and grasp of magical theory as well as practice. He
achieved several different honors while at Hogwarts (Ravenclaw House) including
being chosen Head Boy and having the highest marks in every subject his final
year….
In 1953 he was chosen as the
youngest-ever Minister of Magic, and has held that position for longer than
anyone since Dodrid the Dead, whom, as his unusual moniker indicates, was
actually a ghost during more than three-quarters of his service (see Dodrid
the Dead). He ushered in a new era
of wizard-Muggle cooperation, and with the full support of the International
Confederation of Wizards, gradually revealed us to the Muggles. By 1986, wizards were recognized and
protected in most countries, including all of Europe, North America, Australia
and much of Asia and South America….
…Riddle has never married; his
family consists of his mother, sisters, and brothers. (Father, Muggle, died in
1974).
- Encyclopedia Magica, 1992 ed.
Camp Morningstar
"What is that dreadful wailing?" Hermione asked crossly as she, Harry, Ron and Neville hurried toward the boys' cabin. They had had an incredible amount of trouble locating it; finally Ron had planted himself in front of an adult who looked as if she knew what she was doing and demanded help.
They looked toward the cabin, where the wailing seemed to be located. Sure enough, it got louder as they got closer. Harry looked at the door sourly.
"Sounds like my sister throwing a temper tantrum," he grumbled. "Are we sure that camping with Muggles is such a good idea? Some of them I've met have been dreadful."
"That's just your mum's family, Harry, they aren't all that bad. Look at my parents," Hermione said brightly, and pushed open the door. Inside were bunks and little else. On the bunk furthest from the door was a huge, shivering, wailing lump. It emitted another wail as they entered.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked kindly. "Homesick?" The lump looked up, showing a head of blond hair and a pig-like face, and Harry dropped his trunk on his foot.
"Ow! Dudley, what are you doing here?"
"Dudley?" Ron asked as the wailing started up again. "Your cousin? The big Muggle lump?"
"That's him." Harry stared down in disgust. "Someone tell me this was a dreadful mistake."
"Actually it wasn't, Harry," said a voice from the door. Harry, who had just picked up his trunk, dropped it again.
"Dad? Why are you here?"
"To keep an eye on you, of course." James Potter smiled down at his son. "Don't worry. Sirius just needed a few extra hands and so Riddle lent him us."
"'Us'" Ron repeated. "Who else? My dad?"
"Of course, Ron. And your father, Neville, and Remus."
"Yes!" said Hermione, surprising the boys. "He can finish teaching me the Nilvoxerotica charm, to defeat banshees and sirens!"
"That's Hermione," Ron sighed in mock disgust. "Always studying."
"But Dad, why is he here, anyway? Surely his parents wouldn't let him come!" Harry looked pleadingly at his father.
"Harry, you know it's the Minister's policy to educate as many Muggles as possible about our real ways. And it's Muggles like the Dursleys who need to learn the most. Riddle made a few exceptions to the usual rules in special cases, like your cousin here." He smiled grimly. "Which is to say Petunia and Vernon think they've sent their son off to a camp for exceptional young people, and will be receiving letters that support this." Even Harry had to laugh, but Dudley continued to sob. This drew James' attention to him.
"You can stop that now, Dudley," he said pleasantly. "You've seen me a few times, and Harry too. Harry and his friends are going to be in here with you and Piers and Blake for the next three weeks."
"They'll hurt me, my mum said that wizards are bad," Dudley sobbed out. "She said you and her sister were no-good, ungrateful troublemakers."
"Dudley," and James' face went stern, "You will not talk about wizards that way while you are here at camp, and they won't criticize Muggles. Now, Harry, you are not to hex your cousin, or his friends."
"I understand," Harry said rebelliously. He had a glint in his eye, though.
"And, you can't change cabin assignments."
"But dad, it says right here, somewhere, in this stuff that we can switch cabin arrangements for the next twenty-four hours."
"That applies to every cabin except this one, Harry." James frowned. "Just try to get along, all right? It's only for the next few weeks." Then he smiled. "Look, Harry, you want that Nimbus 2001, right? Your mum doesn't think you need one, but I think you can get one… if you behave yourself. Do you understand?"
"Yeah, I do." Harry looked a bit more cheerful. James nodded.
"I'll just leave you to get acquainted with your roommates, then." He turned and left.
"Great," said Ron, dropping his trunk by a bunk. "What a summer this is going to be. And it's not like I'm going to get a broom, no is it?" He sighed. Neville sat on the bunk next to him, and Harry shoved his trunk next to Ron's.
"I'll take the top bunk, Ron… you can use my broom if I get it, ok?"
Hermione harrumphed. "I'll just be going then. Mind what your dad said about the Muggles, Harry." She turned and left.
"Hey, wait," Ron called, but she didn't listen.
Somewhere in England….
It was a shadowy room, the sort of room where you could see shapes and outlines, but not details. Four men were in that room, in various positions; oddly enough there did not seem to be a door.
"Are your operatives in place, Lestrange?" the standing man asked. One of the others nodded.
"We're ready at your signal."
"Good." There was a suggestion of a smile, not a nice one, on his face, even in the gloom. "My son and several other young people dedicated to our cause are in that camp already. They must move first, and they will as soon as I give the signal."
"Malfoy, I think it's dangerous," a third voice suggested. "There are some powerful wizards there already – and if Riddle finds out, we've got no chance."
"Leave the worrying to me, Multravers." Malfoy stared down at the man contemptuously. "You've always been a naysayer, and you've been wrong." He turned away, his voice passionate. "For too long our blood has been polluted by those Mudblood scum, and now Riddle's making it worse! Muggles mixing with us, knowing about us, living with us – it will mean the end of wizard kind as we know it if we do not do something. Do you want your children raised in that kind of world? Would you like that daughter of yours to marry a Mudblood – or a Muggles?"
"Now Malfoy, let's not be crude," Multravers began, but Malfoy ignored him.
"That's where we'll end, you know. Every single one of us, our noble lines will be polluted. We cannot let that happen. Now, are you with me or not?" He whirled suddenly on Multravers, who gulped.
"O – of course I am, Lucius."
"Good." Malfoy turned to the only man who had not yet spoken. "And you? Are you ready?"
"I am." The man stood and stepped out of the darkest shadows. His dark, greasy hair and hooked nose were obvious even in the dim light. "I am ready, Lucius."
"Excellent, Severus. I think we're ready for step two."
Camp Morningstar, again
"I saw Harry and his friends." James Potter closed the door of the 'administrative office'; really, it was just another cabin, but with desks rather than bunks.
"Ah. Was he surprised?" Sirius looked up from the desk where he was sitting.
"Yes, but more surprised by his bunkmates. Sirius, you made the cabin assignments, didn't you?"
"He had some help in that." James turned to see the door open again. Jenny shut it. "I posted the rules on all the bulletin boards, Sirius, and you can read them at dinner. Why were you asking, James?"
"I thought someone with a perverse sense of humor made the arrangements for Harry's cabin." James grinned. "Which one of you was that?"
"That was me." Sirius admitted. "I'd met your in-laws, James, and I knew that with anyone else, that Muggle would end up dead in three days. At least Harry should have a sense of family duty, I assume."
"He does now." James shook his head. "I told him he wasn't permitted to hex his cousin, and that I'd get him a new broom if he behaves."
"Doesn't Lily think he's got a good enough broom now?" Jenny asked. "I thought that was why he got a chess set and socks for his birthday. Sirius wanted to get him a broom," and she shot her husband a look, "but I said we'd best not."
"Well, I think I can get around her. If he keeps up his end of the bargain," James amended.
"Ten galleons says he can't," Sirius wagered. "We wouldn't have, at his age."
"I think he will. I'll take that bet." James sat down on a chair. "Loser pays up last day of this camp?"
"Sounds good to me."
"Wait," Jenny protested. "You're betting, James, on whether or not your son will obey you?"
"No, we're betting on whether he wants a broom more than he will want to hex his cousin," Sirius said. "Nothing wrong with that."
"You're both impossible!" Jenny said. "I have to go make sure the infirmary is stocked, anyway. I'll see you both later." She turned and left.
Many, many thanks to the reviewers. This piece is up a little earlier than I thought, but the next won't be as quick; please have patience. To everyone who told me they were glad to see Jenny, I couldn't easily keep her out, and she shouldn't be too important, just another strand in this ever-changing tapestry.
Next time: will Malfoy move? Will Riddle do something about him? Is Snape evil? Will Sirius
win his bet? With Gilderoy Lockhart as guest lecturer – if I can arrange it!
Reviewing makes me love you!