Title: Of Power and Opposition
Summary: AU Harry's parents died in a carcrash and grew up with abusive relatives. Choices he made lead him to becoming the Dark Lord. Tom Riddle, his mother died giving birth to him leaving him in an orphanage, his detiny is to defeat the Dark Lord but will his lust for power drive him to a different end? HPTR
Rating: PG-13
Status: 3 chapter written, 3 chapter posted
Review count: 9
BalrogGodZanus: My purpose as an author is to amuse myself by putting my imagination into words
Flame Ivy Moon: Great
ManicReversed: I have continued and thank-you
blakmagevamp: Thank-you
Pairings: Harry Potter x Tom Riddle
Notes: I haven't written in a while so forgive me if this falls flat in quality. The length is part of the build up.
He wanted power and influence, which was Harry Potter's dream. He had followers; he had powerful pureblood friends and spies everywhere. Those who followed him were growing in number and swarming to influential political posts with which Harry would steer the wizarding world. That wasn't enough however. He had the older purebloods, those set in the ways of the past, the ways of Salazar Slytherin, they were wrapped around his finger but the next generation was another matter.
His parents had been muggle loving, his mother muggle born, but he hadn't turned out that way. He knew well enough that Dumbledore in that school of his would turn the children of his follows to the light. He'd send them in as spies and parents could very well reject their children no matter how much purebloods tried to shut out emotions, they were still parents. Especially mothers, they would die to protect their traitorous little offspring.
So Harry formulated a plan, he died his hair and bought contact lenses, he knew Dumbledore's wretched phoenix could see past magical disguises and although the bird could speak no English it was fluent in telepathy. As much as he hated muggles, their little devices were very useful when fooling magic obsessed high breds. Foundation would hide his signature scar, his only link to the car crash that killed his parents.
He'd tried many years ago what he was about to try again. He was going to apply to be the Defence Against Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts. The teachers that Dumbledore had hired in his stead when the old fool refused him had all disappeared or died on an annual basis. Harry sniggered to himself at the curse he had fashioned and placed on that seat in the great hall that wouldn't hold the same person two academic years running unless he sat in it to break the curse.
He looked at his warm, red blonde hair and soft brown eyes, soft…warm? What a joke, those words would never apply to him again.
---1st September---
"And finally, may I draw your attention to our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor? Professor Keito Sin."
Dumbledore's announcement was followed by polite applause and Harry stood up, smiled and bowed, the perfect image of a gracious gentlemen. He was smirking inside. No one was safe from him, the world would dance in his palm one day and not even Dumbledore could stop him.
He sat back down and examined the staff table, he'd been introduced as a stranger before the feast and now had fleeting memories of most of the professors from his time at school. Some of them had been his fellow students. There was the ancient runes professor, Granger…Hermione Granger, she was in Ravenclaw, she had gotten better marks than him in school but school hadn't mattered. He'd defeated her at the final hurdle, the exams and that's what mattered. He could manipulate anyone he wanted in school and she couldn't. She was just a shy little insignificant bookworm. She was engaged now to that Ron Weasley twit, Gryffindor, now flew for the Chudley Canons who were playing worse than ever.
The potions professor, Draco Malfoy, Slytherin, his house, his year, so very arrogant if memory served him correctly and it did. Everything and everyone would serve him. The blonde haired boy came from a powerful family, he was said to be engaged to a female from the Parkinson line. He was one of those purebloods that Harry considered a fair weather supporter. He wouldn't last two minutes under pressure so Harry didn't talk to him, associate with him or hold him in any kind of esteem. His son however was out to prove something of his heritage, so much more dedicated than his fairy of a father. Lucius would make a fine tool, to be used against his father.
The oaf of a gamekeeper had apparently gained a teaching job…Car of Magical Creatures. Harry had taken the subject but the syllabus had shown him very little. His knowledge of magical creatures came out of the Ministry itself, XXXXX class monsters talents and whereabouts lay bare before him. World travel had taught him how to handle vampires and werewolves, they would bow to superior power, something he wielded with ease. Promises of land and food and equality had them eating out of his hand to be crude about it.
Harry's eyes scanned the Great Hall taking extra time to sweep up the Slytherin table to assess any identifiable candidates. One youth caught his eye. 7th year if size and seating was anything to go by. Flashing reddened brown eyes and jet black hair, a sharp face and cool but confident, definitely not relaxed, pose made him stand out. The way conversation was minimal around him, those around him didn't speak to him unless spoken to. This boy like control, Harry would have to test his limits.
He couldn't help but smirk when the youth turned to look at him. A line was drawn then.
---Tom Riddle---
He was a combination of bored and annoyed, so many people aggravated him and the nose level gave him a headache. The casket of silence built by the circle of 'friends' surrounding him barely a comfort. He hadn't looked up at Dumbledore, hadn't even acknowledged the new professor. Another weakly that would be replaced next year but it hardly mattered to him. This was his last year and he would be glad to be rid of the castles restraints.
Dumbledore's twinkling eyes fixed on him from behind half moon spectacles as though expecting something from him. Frowning and disappointed, sad eyes every time he exercised his earned superiority as a prefect and as a respected student on Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs but no one from his own house. His closely-knit group of secret worshipers that referred to him in hushed tones as their master.
He was their master, the teachers were wrapped around his little finger, all except Dumbledore but he didn't teach anything, he was just the Headmaster. The perfect words on the paper in the perfect handwriting and they would sing his praises and answer all his questions. Superior magical ability and intellect gained him the respect from his pears, ruthlessness gained him their fear and fear, dark as it is, is perfect for manipulation.
Do everything for me and I'll fulfil a half-true promise was how Tom Riddle operated. With no knowledge of his past his housemates assumed him part of a small pureblood family, power that great could not come from a mudblood heritage. Tom had finished his meal and was giving the false impression of reclining in his chair. His face blank and his eyes unfocused you'd never guess how dangerous he was.
He sensed eyes on him and he looked up, the only new face at the staff table was looking at him…professor Keito Sin. His face was soft and his colouring mirrored what Tom would have presumed to be a caring personality had it not been for the smirk held in those dancing eyes. A new face to woo, new steps to dance and a new soul to crack to his will. Determination flitted across Tom's face and the soft face changed, cracked into a strong smirk.
Never judge a book by its cover. Tom realised he'd fallen for a clearly set trap. This was a challenge and the game had just begun.
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