Chapter 6: Grindelwald
'Are you ready, Peter?' Dumbledore asked breathlessly, drawing his wand. Parkinson could only manage a weak nod. 'On the count of three, then'. Dumbledore raised his tough-leathered right boot, ready to kick in the oak door, which looked very solid and impregnable to Peter. 'One…, two, …. three!' Dumbledore's vicious kick, obviously intensified beyond possible human strength by some magic, instantly reduced the door to splinters and both men jumped into the room. At a glance, Parkinson took in the scene. A medium-sized, pale man wearing the uniform of a German staff officer sat behind a huge desk covered with parchments, spell-books and potion ingredients, while a roaring blue-flamed fire was burning in the huge chimney on the opposite wall… That was all he could make out because with serpent-like speed the pale man had jumped to his feet and drawn a wand, pointing it straight at Dumbledore. "Stupefy", both men roared within a split second of each other. Jets of red light issued from each wand and collided in midair.
It was as if a small grenade had gone off in the room. There was a deafening bang, all windows broke instantly with glass splinters flying everywhere, tapestries and oil-paintings fell off the wall, while the solid-oak desk the man had been sitting on crashed into the stone wall where it broke into a million wooden splinters. His soldier's instincts probably saved Peter's life. Without knowing what he was doing, he dove for cover behind a large leather couch. He knew, he should keep his head down, but an all-overpowering will to see what was happening and possibly help Dumbledore overcame him.
Both wizards stood facing each other over the ruined room. Instinctively, Peter could tell that each of them looked for some weakness in the other's defence. The German wizard who was obviously Grindelwald moved first. His sharp cry of "Crucio" was once again countered by Dumbledore's "Stupefy" with the same result as before. More glass was flying and Peter could hear shards of glass and wooden splinters strike his couch with sickening thuds. But he could not bring himself to take his head down, while his mind was racing, desperately searching for a way to help Dumbledore.
Still both man were on their feet, glaring at each other. Neither of them spoke a single word, but the feeling of enmity and hatred was so dense that Peter felt he could have touched it, if he had just made the effort. Again, Grindelwald was the first to point his wand at Dumbledore. Peter could distinctly hear him exclaim the word "Avada…". He had the sudden feeling that time had stopped or was at least moving in slow motion. A terrified look of hopeless desperation had suddenly crossed Dumbledore's face. It was as if he knew what was coming, but could not bring himself to believe it! In a weak defensive gesture, he raised his own wand an shouted "Defensio", but somehow Peter could tell, he counted the duel lost. Nevertheless, a silver semi-transparent blue fog issued very quickly from the tip of his wand and formed a blue aura around him. As if from a great distance, Peter heard the second part of Grindelwald's curse '….Kedavra!!!'
Mouth open in terror, Peter now saw for real what he had seen only this morning in Boudicca's portrait! A jet of sickish green light issued from Grindelwald's wand and sped towards Dumbledore with a rushing sound that reminded Peter of an approaching train in the London underground. Then it struck, but Dumbledore did not instantly collapse dead as the Roman Centurion had done. Instead, the ball of green light impacted on the defensive aura surrounding his body with a deafening, grating sound and burst into several smaller fragments. Some penetrated the aura and hit Dumbledore in the chest causing him to drop to his knees and clutch his throat as if an invisible someone was strangling him. The greater part, however, bounced off the aura and caught Grindelwald in the face. With an ear-piercing shriek, suddenly cut short as if by a knife, Grindelwald dropped his wand, which sailed in a wide ark towards where Peter was hiding. For an instant, the dark wizard seemed to attempt to clutch his face - then he went rigid and fell to the ground where he lay motionless. Without a further look, Peter could tell that Grindelwald was dead!
He struggled to his feet and looked at Dumbledore. He, too, had collapsed into an untidy heap of body and wizard robes, but he still moved feebly, so he was at least alive. Parkinson had never felt so relieved in his life. He was on the point of rushing to Dumbledore's side, when the roaring blue flames in the chimney suddenly turned green!
Peter could not believe his eyes. Out of the fire stepped a …. boy! He was in his late teens or early twenties, very tall with very white sickly skin, hollow cheeks and greasy black hair. He wore robes of black and his wand was out. Instinctively, Peter could tell that the boy's appearance did not constitute an improvement in their situation and had the presence of mind to hide himself again behind the couch before the newcomer could spot him. He was soon proven right. It was as if a sudden ominous chill had descended on the room with the stranger's appearance. "Expelliarmus", the boy shouted almost carelessly, and Dumbledore's wand flew into his outstretched hand. Wand still at the ready, the boy now carefully approached the heap on the floor that was Dumbledore. For several seconds he stood over him, his face contorted into a malicious, triumphant expression. Then, without warning, he kicked Dumbledore viciously in the chest and was awarded by a stifled moan!
'My, my, look whom we have here?', he said in a mocking voice, 'my old and honoured transfiguration professor, Albus Dumbledore!' He kicked Dumbledore again, followed by a new groan of agony. 'As usual, sticking your long, crooked nose in other people's business, aren't you?', he continued. 'But today, you have overplayed your hand, my dear professor. This will be the last time, you are interfering with my plans, that I can promise you', he added ominously. He paused as if in deep thought for several seconds. 'It would probably be best to finish you off here and now', he said thoughtfully as if speaking to himself, 'yet, you may not be in a position to even know who finally defeated you, the supposedly greatest wizard of the century', he went on in that same mocking voice. 'You understand, I cannot have that. I want you to know that it was LORD VOLDEMORT who finally thwarted your ambitious and foolish plans for wizard democracy and wizard-muggle relations!'. 'Besides, there are some things I want to learn from you before you die, like how you managed to survive my trusted servant's supposedly unblockable killing curse, for instance. Yes, I think, it would be best, if I nursed you back to some health before you die, Dumbledore'.
He tapped Dumbledore's figure carelessly with his wand and said "Enervate". The effect was immediate and Dumbledore began to stir more vividly. The boy murmured several other words and then pulled Dumbledore into an upright position leaning him roughly against the stone wall. 'Now we are in a better position to continue our little and in your case last conversation' he said almost gleefully. From behind his couch, Peter saw that Dumbledore looked still very weak and very pale as if he had been through a terrible ordeal. His look reminded Peter of some sailors he had once seen after they had been rescued from a sunken submarine after three days at the bottom of the sea. Still, Dumbledore's eyes had slid back into focus and he was eyeing the boy with a look of utter disbelief on his face. 'Riddle, what in the name of god are you doing here?' he asked weakly.
'Don't use that filthy mudblood name', the boy hissed. 'I have renounced that name, for I am now LORD VOLDEMORT, most powerful of all wizards alive!' He raised himself up and suddenly seemed to have grown taller and more menacing. And Peter could have sworn that his black eyes had changed their colour to an inhuman evil red. 'You always mistrusted me at school, didn't you professor? Yet, you apparently do not know that new name, my friends at Hogwarts have known me by for quite some time now'. 'Still, I owe you thanks for many things. You have been a very good teacher indeed, in fact one of the best, I ever had. If only you had made better use of the powers given to you, instead of wasting them on mudbloods and muggle scum ', he added with an evil grin.
'Remember what you told us at our graduation ceremony from Hogwarts last year? That we now walked from these halls of learning, but that it was your sincere hope that we never ceased learning for the lasting good of all wizardkind?' 'Well, you were quite right, we learn something new every day. Now, for instance, I have learned that there are obviously ways to block the Aveda Kedavra curse, proven by the lamentable fact that you are still alive. I consider myself a bit of an expert on this curse, you know. I have used it no less than four times in the last years and every time, my victim was quite dead before it even hit the ground'. There was a note of deep satisfaction in his voice as Dumbledore watched him with an expression halfway between disbelief and repulsion.
'You wonder how I managed to even know about this curse, professor? After all, icky Hogwarts students should only know rudimentary defence against the dark arts stuff, should they not, Dumbledore? As you never tired of telling us - it's all in books! I believe, there is not a single volume in the restricted section of the library that I haven't learned by heart. With that, I had help of course, but I choose not to reveal it…, though in your case, it would not make any difference.', he added as if in an afterthought. 'But back to business, how did you manage to stay alive? Talk and live a little longer or remain silent and die now!' he said in a voice suddenly harsh as stone, while pointing his wand at Dumbledore.
'I cannot explain it', replied Dumbledore hesitantly, 'normally, there is no escape from the killing curse and I considered it impossible that even a renegade dark wizard like Grindelwald would use it on a fellow human being', he added. 'When he did, I reacted instinctively by using a shield charm, but did not expect to survive unless….' 'Unless what?' said the boy eagerly, 'go on Dumbledore, this is important to me, and it prolongs your life', he added. 'Unless someone sacrifices his or her own life to protect the victim or the killing curse is performed by a wizard who is acting under the Imperius Curse' , Dumbledore continued reluctantly. 'The Imperius Curse generally diminishes a wizard's powers and the effect is the stronger, the more powerful the one acting under it was to begin with.'
'Thank you for that very instructive explanation! As usual, I marvel at your knowledge, professor', replied the boy, bowing mockingly to Dumbledore, 'how unfortunate you never chose to reveal such interesting facts to your students in class', he went on. 'Alas, school often fails to teach us the things that really matter in life! Grindelwald was indeed my creature, and yes, he was acting under the Imperius Curse. He was a very powerful wizard indeed and not easily manipulated, truth be told, he actually put up quite a struggle. When I sensed your presence in the castle, I disapparated at once counting on him to finish you off, even gave him proper warning that you were coming. This way, there would not have been the slightest chance that anyone ever found out that he was not the true mastermind behind the things going on in Europe at the moment. But nevertheless, I am in luck, since his curse was still strong enough to reduce you to a state where you were unable to offer me any resistance. Not that you could hope to withstand me even with all your powers intact', he hissed maliciously, 'for none can resist LORD VOLDEMORT, but this way I have the opportunity to settle some old scores between us by killing you myself.
What are these scores?, you wonder. Don't bother to hide it, Dumbledore, your eyes are giving you away and LORD VOLDEMORT knows, he always does. Well, first, you came within a hair's breadth of discovering that it was me and not that oaf Hagrid who opened the Chamber of Secrets several years ago. Now, you have thwarted my plans for the wizard domination of Europe by disabling my trusted German friends and killing my most able, if not entirely willing, servant! For this, you will die, Dumbledore! The boy's face was contorted into a mask of such malice, rage and hatred, while he said this that Peter feared the worst for Dumbledore.
Listening to the boy's story, Dumbledore's eyes had widened and Peter wondered what it must feel like to find that one of your former students suddenly reveals himself a killer and the mind behind everything you fought against. 'Fear not, professor', the boy continued, 'I will not kill you before I have told you the entire story. You know, this horrified expression of disbelief on your face gives me too much satisfaction, and I am asking myself what it will turn into, once you have heard it all. But where should I begin?'
'You know, of course, that I was raised in a muggle orphanage because my mother died at my birth. Tom Riddle, my gentleman muggle father had left her, when he found out that she was a witch. Went back to his parents, since he loathed magic!', the boy spat. 'When I found this out, I vowed revenge. My father and grandparents would pay for everything, they had done to me -the vile food at the orphanage, the frequent beatings and the loneliness of my childhood. Though, I tried to stay at Hogwarts during most vacations, I went back one Christmas during my second year and broke into the office where the orphans' files were kept. There, I discovered that my mother's name had been Patricia Jameson but nothing more. Imagine my horror, however, when I saw that a certain Tom Riddle of Little Hangleton was listed as my father and it stated quite clearly that he was alive and well. But someone had scrawled under his name. "Father's identity is not to be revealed to the boy under any circumstances!!! Father is a rich and influential gentleman and threatens legal action!!! Mother was last member of her family. If people by the name of Jameson should inquire about the boy, notify Police immediately (see letter)". The letter was not there any more, but I knew enough to decide that my father would die for what he had done.
During one of the next Hogsmeade weekends, I managed to smuggle myself and a broomstick out of school and flew to Little Hangleton. I had already taught myself to disapparate at that time, of course, but considered the risk of getting caught and the many questions that would undoubtedly follow not worth the risk. With the broomstick, I could always pretend the whole affair had been nothing but a schoolboy prank to visit the village before my third year.
I arrived there at noon and slipped into the dining room, just as the Riddles were entering the room to have their lunch. Hidden behind a curtain, I imagined myself stepping forth every second now, first telling them who I was and then killing each and every one of them. I had already drawn my wand, when I suddenly started paying attention to what the old Riddle was saying. "Say Tom, did that abnormal girlfriend of yours ever tell you she had a sister?" I froze and dared not breathe. "Might have mentioned it once or twice, but I can't really remember", answered a sullen-faced, unpleasant looking man in his early 40s whom I recognized as my father. "Just went over some old club bills this morning", continued the old Riddle, "when I suddenly remembered an encounter I had with one of these bloody aristocrats at the club 'bout 15 years ago. Still remember their faces, when they had to let people like me in, didn't like that at all did they now?' he said chuckling. 'But anyway, he mentioned a certain Jenny Jameson who was midwife at his parish and that she had bewitched his boy." I dug a little deeper and found out that he was on the verge of sending his only son to that crackpot magical school your abnormal girl had attended, too, but I put him in the right about that idea, let me tell you…."
Behind his couch, Peter had to press his fists before his mouth to suppress a cry. With clenched teeth, he listened as the wizard boy continued his story.
'You can imagine what a surprise it was for me to find out that I had an aunt, moreover an aunt who was a witch. I admit that my first feelings concerning her might have been not entirely unfriendly. I loathed muggles in general and that sorry muggle who called himself my father in particular, but with relatives on my mother's side, it was an altogether different matter. I had already found out that through her side I was descended from Salazar Slytherin himself, so the same would be true for any sister of hers. On the spot, I decided that the Riddles had bought themselves some time with that piece of information. Since I knew now where they lived, I could deal with them any time I chose to. I quietly waited until they had finished, slipped out of the house and flew back to Hogwarts.
On the way back, I thought incessantly about my aunt and with every mile, my hatred for her increased. I hated her for abandoning me to the muggles! Hated her for not coming for me and put me out of that miserable existence at the orphanage. I hated her for the lonely vacations at the school, when other children went home to their parents! By the time, I had reached the school, I had made up my mind that she would be the first to die, since the muggles did at least not know what they had done to me, but she, she was a witch and should have known better!
Back at Hogwarts, I employed my trusted friends' help to track her down, without telling them the reason for it, of course. Since many of them came from old wizarding families and had influential parents, this proved not too hard. Within less than two months, Timothy Lestrange's father had found out that she was living as midwife in a small village somewhere in Essex.'
Peter listened to this in utter horror and had to fight a sudden urge to stand up and tell the boy that his aunt had indeed loved him very much and would gladly have taken him in and brought him up. But somehow he knew that this would not help and surely get him killed or worse, so he remained silent.
'Now, I knew enough!', the boy continued, 'I waited for the next vacation, when the school was virtually deserted. All of the teachers except for foolish old Armando Dippet had gone away on holiday, so this was an ideal time to execute my plan. Told Dippet, I would like to go hiking around the forbidden forest for a couple of days and the old fool agreed, since he always had a weak spot for me. After heaps of good advice, I tramped off. This time, I had decided to risk apparition because there was nobody left at Hogwarts who might get suspicious and ask questions…..'
Again, the evil red-eyed expression appeared in Tom Riddle's face. 'I knocked on her door at tea time and told her who I was. Crying and sobbing, she took me into her arms and fed me tea and cookies as if she hoped to make up for 13 years of neglect with that! I explained that I attended Hogwarts and she told me one story after another about my mother's family. Quite boring actually, and it went on for hours. Then she got up to fetch a photo album full of family pictures from upstairs. When she came down again, I had my wand out and was pointing it straight at her heart. Watching her uncomprehending expression, I then gave her a little lecture on family loyalty and what I thought of her, but I think she was too horrified to understand much of it and then….., well, then I killed her, of course. I had used the killing curse on countless animals to practice, when I was sure not to get caught and I must confess that using it on a human being did not make much difference to me. I finished my tea, while looking at her lifeless body with a sense of accomplishment and thought about the other people I would soon take my revenge on. Before I left, I put the photo album in my robes and considered setting the cottage on fire to make it look like a dragon or giant raid, but finally decided against it because the risk of something linking me to her was quite negligible. Stepping out into the night, I thought about the Riddles and that they would be next.'
'I know, I should have left then and there, but an uncontrollable urge to leave some mark of my revenge overcame me. Hardly knowing what I was doing, I pointed my wand at the skies and exclaimed the first word that crossed my mind, which for some reason I don't know was something like "Morsmordra". It had an effect beyond my wildest dreams. A huge skull with a serpent tongue erupted from my wand, shot into the sky and hovered above the roof of my dead aunt's cottage. This was the sign, I had been looking for and I silently vowed that people up and down the land would soon come to dread it as their worst nightmare come true. It almost proved my undoing, however, because no sooner had I managed to reach the rim of the forest, when Aurors began apparating all around the place. One actually got off a stunner at me, but I had managed to disapparate before it hit me…..'
A look of such revulsion and loathing crossed Dumbeldore's face, when he heard this that the boy instinctively backed away from him and raised his wand again. At the same time, Peter, still behind his couch, had to exercise every ounce of restraint he possessed to prevent himself from hurling himself at the monstrous creature across the room who had killed his childhood friend. He wanted to strangle him with his bare hands! While pictures of Jenny telling him stories and teaching him magic flickered across his mind, he weighted his chances of reaching Grindelwald's wand, which still lay on the ground where it had come to rest after its owner's defeat - a bare couple of inches out of Peter's reach.
Meanwhile, the boy had regained his self-assurance. 'You want to hear the rest of the story or do you want to die right away?', he asked Dumbledore indifferently. 'I don't care either way!'. Dumbledore let himself sink back against the wall and gave a weak sign with his head, indicating that he wanted the boy to continue.
'I had decided to walk back to Hogwarts by way of Hogsmeade, so as not to arouse any suspicion. But nothing could have prepared me for what I encountered there. The whole village was in turmoil. People were running around, clutching special editions of the Daily Prophet with the ominous headline "WITCH FOUND DEAD - FIRST REPORTED USE OF KILLING CURSE SINCE 1867!!!!". Avoiding the Aurors posted on every corner, I sneaked my way back into the school, where, right in the entrance hall, I ran into old Dippet. He was in tears and on the brink of collapse over what had happened, assured me that he would not have thought it possible that he would live to see this and what not. At first, I thought the game was over and everybody knew what I had done, but then to my lasting delight, I realized that my use of that curse had had the same effect a solid boot has on an anthill – utter confusion, bewilderment and fear had gotten the entire wizarding community by the throat. I was quite surprised what little it took to accomplish this, but it was duly noted for later use', the boy added nastily.
'During my entire third year, rumours about the murder and the killer's possible identity did not stop. Aurors were rigorously questioning everyone who had ever spoken to Jenny Jameson and -in their final desperation at the futility of their efforts- even considered extending the investigation to the muggles. From my trusted Slytherin friends, I learned that the Ministress of Magic, Sybil Moody herself, had requested a daily progress report and several dozen handpicked Aurors were exclusively working the case day and night. They had theories about giants, they had theories about foreign wizards, they had theories about dragons, but nobody suspected a little third year honour student at Hogwarts', he said maliciously.
'Still, I had to keep a very low profile and could not even dare think about finishing off the Riddles as I had planned. Though they were muggles, their very name linked them to me and three people dying of unnatural causes on the same day would surely alert the Aurors. But time was on my side! In 1940, Moody was ousted from office and most Aurors were withdrawn from the case, the new Ministry of Magic under Lucifer Malfoy needed them elsewhere. Only one continued the investigation, even against direct orders, but I did not know that at the time.'
'I thought it best to distract the wizarding community's attention even further and continued my search for the Chamber of Secrets. I knew it was really there, because I had often heard the voice of the thing that slept there in my dreams and one day in 1943, by a mere coincidence, I found it!'
Dumbledore had suddenly become very alert. 'So it was you who opened the Chamber and set that dreadful thing on innocent students?', he asked quietly. 'Yes, indeed, professor', replied the boy, 'but I imagine you have suspected this all along, haven't you? My original plan was to create as much disturbance at Hogwarts as possible and also get the message across that Salazar Slytherin and his heir did not approve of muggle-born mudbloods attending his school. But again, I had miscalculated. After the first death, an ugly little mudblood first-year called Myrtle Parker, they talked about closing the school! That would have meant going back to the orphanage without having completed my wizarding education and I could not have that!'
'Luckily one of my classmates, a half giant fool called Rubeus Hagrid, had at around the same time found and raised a giant Mongolian Killing Spider in one of the dungeons and that opportunity was just too good not to make proper use of it. I cornered Hagrid and turned him in! It worked perfectly, nobody believed him but everybody thought me a hero for having stopped the killing. I even received an award for special services to the school', he added in played mocking disbelief. 'I know, you had a suspicion, Dumbledore, but unfortunately no proof whatsoever, so they drummed Hagrid out of school, wand-breaking ceremony and all!', the boy said, his voice oozing with self-satisfaction. 'You know, it still gives me great pleasure to recall his silent sobs on that occasion "'onestly, I meant no 'arm!" and "Thank god that me old dad did not live to see this, 'ould have broken 'is heart". 'I would have preferred for him to be kicked out completely, but you, Dumbledore, persuaded Dippet to keep him on as game keeper instead. I am not sure, you did him a favour, though. What could be worse than seeing your classmates become fully trained wizards, while you had to shovel dragon manure into the pumpkin patch?', he said derisively. 'I, at least, would have rather died'.
'Though, it bothered me that I had managed to kill only one mudblood, reopening the Chamber was obviously out of the question. But, don't worry, Dumbledore, I came up with something else. You may rest assured that this was not the last time in this century that the Chamber of Secrets has been opened!'
From the expression on Dumbledore's face, Peter could tell that this information was very important to him, but he somehow knew, too that it would be quite hopeless for Dumbledore to ask Riddle for further details. The boy continued.
'In 1944, I had completed my seventh and last year at Hogwarts – a fully trained wizard at last! Now it was time to deal with the Riddles, since I was finally rid of your poking nose, Dumbledore. I was also confident that nobody would pay too much attention, if three muggles got killed, since thousands were dying every day in the war. Still in my graduation gowns, I went to Little Hangleton and this time, I finished them off one by one. First my fat, disgusting grandfather, then my grandmother -though she was clutching my knees begging for mercy, quite pathetic that was- and finally my sorry father. What a pitiful sight! Instead of dying on his feet like a man, he was crawling on his belly like a worm, crying like a baby! After it was over, I stared at the bodies, taking in every detail with grim satisfaction. Nobody had seen me, except for that war-veteran muggle who kept their garden in order and I knew that he had a reputation as a strange, whimsical fellow, so nobody would believe him.'
'Thinking about my future plans, I shot my mark into the sky and left the manor, quickly making for the nearest woods to disapparate. Imagine my horror, however, when on the rim of the forest, I suddenly found myself facing a young Auror, wand at the ready, who would certainly stun me, the very second I moved. I knew, it was no use defending myself and I let him disarm me.
"Quite a career, Riddle", the young Auror growled "from headboy and honour student at Hogwarts to a certain life sentence at Azkaban, and all within one day!" I was too shocked to answer, I knew I had lost that one and my prospects looked indeed dismal. My career as a dark wizard was over before it had even begun. Desperately, I thought of a way out, but there was none! "Don't even think about it laddy!", continued the Auror with a grin, half-amused, half-threatening. "I don't like to stun people and I like killing them even less, but I will do both, if you try to escape or fight me. Nice little plan, killing these muggles in the middle of a war, I must admit, but you obviously forgot that Alastor Moody was still on your tail!" "That's me", he added, when he saw that I could not place the name. "I have been after you, ever since you killed Jenny Jameson in Essex back in 1940. When that bastard Malfoy used the unresolved murder as an additional argument to oust my grandmother from office, it became sort of personal and a matter of family honour, you know. You were not as clever as you thought, Tom! After I had discovered that Jenny had a sister, tracking you down was child's play, really, but I had no proof. I had to catch you in the act. By putting one and one together, however, I knew that your father's side would be next, so I neglected some of my other duties to guard this place. Unfortunately, I could not prevent their deaths, since I did not believe it possible you would kill them the very day, you left school", he continued, indicating the manor with his chin. "But on the other hand, you have made things a lot easier for me this way. You know, you might actually have gotten off easy with that one murder only, considering your dismal childhood, protection of adolescents and all, but four dead people is way too much. Tomorrow night, by the latest, you will find yourself in the care of the Dementors of Azkaban! And good riddance to you, I say to that! But come on, let's move it!"
'Suddenly, ropes sprang from his wand and bound me so tightly, I could not move a single limb. Before I knew, what was happening, he had clutched me in a firm embrace and we disapparated.
After a second or so, we materialized again and I could see that he had brought me straight to the Ministry of Magic building in Merlin Alley. I had never been there, but I had seen pictures and I knew that was were the wizard court convened. Once there, Moody pushed me roughly through a door and we moved up to a desk. "Caught Jenny Jameson's murderer red-handed", he said to the Goblin sitting behind it. "Summon someone to guard him and inform the court", he next ordered curtly. "Very well", replied the goblin, his cunning face showing no expression whatsoever.
At this moment, there was a commotion at the end of the corridor. A large man in black robes with greasy black hair that hung to his shoulders ran towards us. Seeing him, Moody raised his wand in a gesture of salute. "Good afternoon, Mr. Snape", he said. The man appeared not to have noticed him. "I will take charge of this prisoner", he bellowed "and you Moody, will face charges of insubordination and wilful disobedience of explicit orders!", he added menacingly. "You are to report to Lestrange immediately! He is already waiting for you and it won't be a pleasant meeting, I promise you!" With a resigned expression, Moody let go off me and disappeared through a large door at the opposite end of the hall.
Snape grabbed my shoulder and, with a flick of his wand, untied the ropes binding my legs but not the ones around my arms. "Riddle, follow me", he said in a harsh unpleasant voice. He took me up countless staircases and through endless corridors until we had reached a black office door. "Office of the Minister of Magic – No Entry" was written on it in gold letters. Snape knocked on the door several times. "Come in!", came the curt reply from within.
We entered and I found myself in a magnificent office, facing a tall, skinny man with grey hair, a grey beard, piercing green eyes and very white skin who throned behind an immense elevated desk. Without bothering to get up, he looked at us questioningly. "Sir, following your request, I have brought you one Tom Riddle. Moody caught him this afternoon after he had killed all three surviving muggle relatives on his father's side", Snape said. "Very well, Octavian, thank you", replied the man behind the desk. "You may leave now" he added with a dismissive wave of his hand. Snape bowed and left the office without a further word.
For a long time, the man behind the desk simply stared at me through half-closed eyes. It was almost as if he was considering a matter of the utmost urgency in his mind, weighing its pros and cons before he spoke. After what seemed an eternity, he opened his mouth. "So you are Tom Marvolo Riddle - honour student, headboy, dark sorcerer of great promise and – a four times murderer?", he said in a drawling unpleasant and very arrogant voice, "I have been waiting for you, you know. That fool Moody thought I would not find out that he has been disobeying orders for the last years by searching for you!" he spat, "when finding you and bringing you here was the only purpose of the whole affair, of course! I will offer you a choice, Riddle! Refuse and the wizard court will convene this afternoon. Considering your crimes and with Alastor Moody as chief witness, you will undoubtedly receive a life sentence in Azkaban. Accept and….."
'I looked at him, dumbfounded, not able to believe what I had just heard. The Minister of Magic himself was offering me what was obviously a highly-illegal arrangement to escape certain prosecution! I nodded eagerly for him to continue. Well, Dumbledore, you can guess the rest, I presume. He told me about the allied progress in the war and what their victory would mean for him and his followers. We soon found out that we saw eye to eye on muggles and mudbloods and the fact that the wizarding community was best served by a single ruler instead of that stupid democracy business. So Malfoy recruited me to execute his long-prepared plan to lend aid to the German cause by way of dark magic. I accepted the offer gladly, of course, since it coincided perfectly with my own plans. The old fool undoubtedly considers me a useful tool to further his own designs, but we shall see about that in due course……, oh yes , we shall see about that because LORD VOLDEMORT is nobody's tool. The day will come, when I have Lucifer Malfoy crawling at my knees, begging to be allowed to join my ranks, but at present we are on the same side……'
Dumbledore had been listening eagerly to the last part of the boy's story, an almost triumphant look on his sunken face. But Peter behind his couch could tell that they boy was obviously tired of continuing and that worried him deeply.
'What are you dreaming about, professor?', the boy inquired, staring insolently at Dumbledore. 'Going back to the British wizarding community and sharing this piece of information with them? They would undoubtedly get rid of Malfoy and his followers and re-institute that mudblood and muggle adoring system you like so much, would they not? Alas, as I have told you before, you will not leave this room alive! Apart from knowing now way too much, there are still the scores I have to settle with you. So, I think the time has come for you to die, my dear professor!'