What If Series: The Black Prince

by Miss Mysteria

Chapter Eleven

8th of May, 1988.

Hogwarts Castle, Headmaster's Office.

'YOU-KNOW-WHO'S IDENTITY REVEALED'

Albus Dumbledore sighed at the title was screaming up at him from his cluttered desk. He had been staring at Daily Prophet that had landed on his desk early this morning for almost an hour, trying to avoid what he knew was coming. There could be no doubt that his name would be brought up somehow, and the only way to find out was to open it and see for himself. Hopefully it wouldn't be too scathing, although he had winced once he had seen the authors name; Rita Skeeter. She had been caught up a number of times during her Hogwarts career as a Slytherin for cutting comments and severe gossiping that caused numerous ruffles. Her career choice had not really surprised him, nor the Hogwarts staff.

He leaned forward in his seat and grasped the papers tightly in his hands. He sank back and moved his eyes rapidly over the front page article, ignoring the blaring black-and-white still photograph of a young, handsome Slytherin student with a Head Boy badge pinned on his shirt.

'Tom Riddle. A name that would not be out of out of place in the muggle world that belongs to the Darkest Wizard Europe has ever seen. Several days ago left on this reporters desk were files upon files of information and a timeline of pictures of a brunette male from ages eleven to twenty-five. At the top read his name, and in the face of being as honest as I can be, I will not lie when I say that I had to sit down for several minutes before looking any further. The name read: Tom Marvolo Riddle: AKA Lord Voldemort. The files, left anonymously, gave a surplus of information about You-Know-Who's early life in a muggle orphanage where he was left by his near-squib of a mother, Merope Gaunt. The woman sadly died barely half-an-hour after her son was born, but had just enough life inside her breast to gift him with a name...the name of his muggle father, Tom Riddle. Thats right. Lord Voldemort, Heir of Slytherin, Darkest Wizard of our time, was a half-blood.

According to this new information, Tom Riddle then spent eleven years inside of the muggle orphanage and I'm sure you can imagine for yourselves what sort of devious and heinous acts the even then psychotic child got up to. (See p.10 for more information on the muggle childhood of You-Know-Who)

On his eleventh birthday, it is revealed by this reporter exclusively, Albus Dumbledore was sent by previous Headmaster Armando Dippet to retrieve the child and tell him of the Magical World, as is done with muggle-borns and muggle-raised wizards. We at the Daily Prophet wonder whether or not present Headmaster Dumbledore knew of You-Know-Who's original identity and whether or not he himself aided the fear mongering of not knowing his origins. Was Albus Dumbledore, self-claimed most powerful light wizard of our age, taking part in making the man behind You-Know-Who into the scary nightmare he became after he graduated Hogwarts? In fact, was the man part of the blame, as this information brings to light that Dumbledore was Transfiguration Professor for six years with Tom Riddle as his pupil and then Headmaster for his last. What exactly does the Headmaster have to answer for and-'

And there he stopped reading. The entire article, not that he was even halfway done with it, was a shock to his system. How on Merlins Grave did Rita Skeeter at the Daily Prophet get this? In fact, how did journalists at the highest-branded magical newspapers across the world get these...these 'files' that apparently mysteriously ended up on each of their desks in each of their countries official languages. This was a well-planned and well-researched act to shock the world.

Of course Albus knew all of the information in this article and most likely in those files, how could he not? He had seen Tom Riddle grow up before his very eyes. He had seen the somewhat reserved and untrusting boy from the orphanage flourish under the approval and attention of those around him and he had seen the way the boy had pushed himself to become the best of his peers, the best in Hogwarts, the best in the World. He had seen the way the likes of Abraxas Malfoy, Orion Black and Corvus Lestrange had shuffled around him from their third years onward. He had seen the way that the spells used in mock-duels in the classrooms and spats in the hallways became darker and darker.

He had seen Tom Riddle, the not nearly innocent, but certainly not evil or psychotic (like the article suggested), eleven year old boy grow into becoming Lord Voldemort, the most feared name in Magical Britain. And he had seen the ways that he could have stopped him. But at the time Albus had thought to himself that Tom was only a child. He would see sense, there was no need to pull him to the side and Merlin knew what kind of effect that could have had, with the boy already disliking him to a degree bordering on hatred.

But Albus was not to solely to blame. He was not. There were many Professors who could have, should have, stepped in. All of them should have seen the monstrosity that Riddle and his gang were becoming, but instead chose to see the facade that the boy had placed around him.

And it was their choices, not Albus's, that had shaped the future. He had tried to warn them; Armando, Gaeleta and Horace specifically. But the old Headmaster, Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor and Head of Slytherin House had chosen to laugh off his claims that perhaps Tom wasn't quite right and how perhaps they should intervene. And Albus had kept an eye on the boy, watching him closely for any antics that were somewhat Dark. But there was no doubt that the Daily Prophet, nor the other News Publications, would not publish this even if they knew. It was, after all, more interesting to dismiss and insult popular figures than it was to applaud them for their efforts, no matter how failed.

He would need to do damage control. If the information had somehow succeeded in its objective to undermine his reputation and authority, there would be some of the public who would believe he was the enemy and he most certainly was not. However, even some good press would not prevent what he hoped had not already occurred.

Voldemort was still out there. There was no body at Godric's Hollow that was found, merely a black cloak, an empty crib, the sign of a struggle and the dead bodies of James and Lily Potter.

Albus believed that the man had delved deep into the Darkest Arts, some of which aid immortality which was Tom's long term goal, he knew. After all, the moniker 'Voldemort' quite literally meant 'flight/theft from death' and Tom would have chosen it for a reason and after keeping a close eye on him in his student years and skimming over the books he had taken out from the Hogwarts Library in his last few years, he knew that Tom had had a sincere interest in Death and the ideology of Immortality. And when he had disappeared in the mid-fifties after a few years of working at a store in Knockturn Alley, Albus had suspected the worst. That feeling of dread had continued and built up for several years until it mounted exponentially when the man had come to him in search of the recently open Defence teaching position.

Albus had refused him, obviously. It would not do to have a Dark Arts user and an overall suspicious person teaching students and warping their minds. But the way Tom Riddle had looked had shaken him to his core. His skin had been pale, paler than it had been when he had seen him last, and he looked shaky and frail, though the stench of dark magic repelling off of him was too much for Albus to think that the man was weak. He suspected that at that point in time, Tom had not known about Dark Magic having a certain...tangible scent. Repellent and disgusting that made many, if not all, feel physically sick and have rises of random negative emotions such as sadness and anger.

But then after theinterview, if one could call it that, Tom had once again disappeared.

A few years later, Lord Voldemort rose and chaos reigned.

It was obvious to him that this was Tom Riddle. But his features were warped from years of dabbling in magics that were supposed to have been laid dormant. His gang from school, once quiet and studious (deceiving back then, still, but no trouble surrounded them in their school years), was now crowing and calling to Purebloods to join them and they would 'perfect the world together' and Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort, was their puppet master holding the strings behind the curtain. But with their rise came the War; one side was Voldemort and his Death Eaters and the other were the Muggleborns, Halfbloods and Purebloods, who were now known as 'Blood Traitors'.

The War had raged for years and it came to its climatic end with the introduction of the Prophecy, naming a child born to those who had 'thrice defied him' as Voldemort's defeater. Either Neville Longbottom or Harry Potter, both he and Tom had come to that conclusion. The Potter's and the Longbottom's had gone into hiding, (James being somewhat pushed, never being one who would sit on the side lines) as the news came through their spy lines that the Death Eaters were searching for them in their Lords name.

Of course, the Potter's had been chosen and James and Lily had died. Then Harry, poor Harry, had been taken, snatched from his bed. Hagrid had seen the person dressed in black but only enough to know that it was a male around average height with dark hair.

The Wizarding World had celebrated the death of 'You-Know-Who' but there had been some who had searched for Harry Potter, the Saviour, with him. The search had ended up with nothing. He had suspected for a moment that perhaps Lorcan Black...but that theory had been squashed with the Longbottom's and the Nott's claiming that they had known the boy for a while and there had also been the glaring issue of How Would He Look Like Sirius Black?

But that was not the matter at hand.

Albus sighed and stood from his chair, placing the Daily Prophet back onto his desk and ignoring the teetering ink pot that threatened to spill over because of the sudden weight. He slowly made his way down the stairs and over to the far left wall of his office that had been modified to hold books within the stone. His eyes scanned the hundreds of ancient tomes until they landed on one tucked away in the far right top corner, hidden from prying eyes. He waved his hand and it floated down and landed gently into his open palm.

Secrets of the Darkest Arts was one of the worst books ever published in his eyes. Albus had removed it from the Library as soon as he had had the authority to do so as Headmaster. He had not realised its existence at Hogwarts until he came across the title when looking over what Tom and his associates were reading in their spare time. A truly horrifying book. The book was, quite obviously, a dark black hardcover with the title stitched carefully in silver thread across the front. It was worn and fraying slightly at the edges, the weakened state of the outside misleading the reader about the contents.

He flipped open the front-cover carefully to reveal the somewhat short table of contents.

Jinxes, Hexes, Curses
Creatures
Beings
Practitioners
The Unforgivable's
The Deathly Hallows
Soul Magic

Albus ignored the slight pain in his chest and tried to avoid eye contact with the wand on his desk at the sight of the Deathly Hallows and steeled himself, turning to the very last page.

Soul Magic.

Albus for some years had suspected that Voldemort had looked into Soul Magic, specifically something called a Horcrux. But with no proof the theory was only that; a theory among others.

He scanned some of the page with a furrowed brow.

'Horcruxes (etymology of the word originating form "hors" and "decors" in French meaning outside and "crux" meaning essence) are essentially defined as keeping your soul, your essence, outside of your body. It is created by manually tearing part of the soul and placing it into an object. Firstly, the soul must be split into two, where one part remains in the human body while the other is destined for the chosen object of the Wizards choice.

The initial "tear" of the soul must be done following the out-usage of a spell that depletes at least half of the Wizard's magical store, an example of this is Avada Kedavra, the Killing Curse, and perhaps the consumption of such potions as the Drink of Despair although the latter has not been tested. Indeed, one continued act that has been since tested multiple times and proven to work is Murder due to the before thought myth, and now known fact, that killing 'leaves a mark on the soul'. Once half of the Wizard's magical store has been depleted, the Wizard must raise their wand to their throat and press the tip of it against their oropharynx, whereby the wand will begin to burn.

The receptacle for which the Wizard wishes to take on half of their soul must be nearby as once the soul is extracted, it becomes a living, desperate being that is separate from its host and is in need of a new one. Once the half of the soul is extracted (the Wizard should feel this, symptoms have been known to deviate as per each Wizard) the wand should be removed from the oropharynx and the tip should immediately be placed into the centre of the object.

Before this transfer, however, the Wizard must-'

The book did continue, in detail, to reveal how to transport part of the soul into an object however even reading the information made bile rise in his throat. He closed the book with a snap and pressed the spine up against one of the stone partitions that split up the books by genre and let go once he felt the magic take hold. He stood and watched as it drifted up by itself and slotted itself into its rightful place.

There was little to no doubt in his mind that Voldemort already knew of his true origins being released to the public. Whatever the state of health, mind or body he was in. He had been destroyed that night in Godric's Hollow, but to what extent Albus did not know. There was no body, but all that did was suggest to the public that whatever Harry Potter did that night had completely wrecked Voldemort's physical form so that he...well, Albus didn't know. Perhaps they thought he had exploded.

But Albus was, in his humble opinion, more intelligent and perhaps more interested to know whether or not Lord Voldemort was ever returning. He had thought on numerous occasions, if his theory about Horcruxes was correct, what was left of his soul was still floating around, which made both his blood boil and his stomach curl.

And he was sure that whoever placed those files on the desks of those reporters would not be prepared for what revenge Lord Voldemort had in store them because weakened or not, he was still one of the best wizards of all time and still a danger.

He both hoped and didn't, though it pained him to admit, that the people who did so had protection surrounding them for their own sake.

6th of June, 1988.

Ravenswood House, Grounds.

"Lorcan!"

Lorcan spun fast, keeping his legs tightly wrapped around the broom underneath him. His eyes widened dramatically as they took in the bludger rocketing towards him from the other side of the field and quickly whirled himself to the left, the broom becoming a blur as he moved. The bludger sped past his head, popping his eardrum and making his hair, which had fallen loose from its place tied back, wave in the wind it caused. He let out a breathy laugh and looked up from the broom to see Neville holding a Beaters Bat loosely in his right hand and his left had come up to cover his eyes in shock.

He smiled, "Nev', it's all good! You can look."

Neville slowly, very slowly, peeled his hand away from his face and slumped onto his own broom. Lorcan laughed and pushed his broom forward towards his friend.

"Its not funny!" Neville yelled at him, holding the bat up and gesturing in what Lorcan guessed was supposed to be a threatening manner. "I could have killed you!"

"As if. You're not as good as you think you are. That bludger wasn't even close."

Neville's hazel eyes sharpened and narrowed, "'Wasn't even close'? Do you realise it was right next to your head? About two centimetres from it?"

Pretending to study his friend, Lorcan leaned in closer as he brought his broom to a stop a few metres away. "Are you sure you haven't been hit in the head with a bludger recently? Or maybe you hit yourself with the bat?"

He laughed as he moved away from Neville's half-hearted swing with the bat. "I'm better than you at being the Beater. You can barely hit it."

"Yeah, but these arms aren't meant for...batting against heavy, murderous balls flying through the air. They're meant for throwing and catching." Lorcan developed a high-and-mighty look that he had adopted from his grandfather whenever the man talked about his Order of Merlin (nobody knew what it was for, which suggested both to Sirius, Remus and Lorcan that he had bribed his way into it), "Y'know when we get to Hogwarts-"

"No, what's Hogwarts?"

Neville avoided his glare with a smirk and began to pick at the fraying pieces of fabric on the bat.

"Anyway. When we get to Hogwarts I'm going to be the greatest Chaser ever." He offered Neville a side glance that he knew was filled with fake-pity, "And you will be a...somewhat talented Beater."

Huffing, Neville replied, "Thanks. But we can't even tryout in First Year. And who knows, there might already be people filled out in our positions."

"No one better than us, Neville Longbottom. No one better than us. They'd be stupid not to put us on the teams."

Neville opened his mouth to reply when a voice drifted up from below.

"You guys hungry?! The elves made sandwiches and stuff but Remus is hungry so.."

Both boys looked down to see Sirius waving up at them and their eyes widened comically before glancing at each other quickly and grinning.

"Race ya?"

"You're on, Black. Get ready to eat dust."

A/N: Ok, ok.

So I want to discuss the Horcrux bit.

Nobody really knows what one has to do to make a Horcrux as J.K. Rowling in interviews has said it is 'too horrible to discuss', but I had a crack at some of it.

This is something I saw on Quora in answer to the question "How to make a Horcrux" and thought it pretty much matched what I thought as well:

I suspect that the manner of the murder doesn't matter, or at least it allows a broad range as Myrtle was killed by the Basilisk's gaze, the Riddles were killed by the Killing Curse, Hepzibah Smith was poisoned; but all of those murders were used to create Horcruxes, we know.

The process leaves no obvious signs on the victim's body; Myrtle was examined by Dumbledore and the Ministry (no doubt), the Riddles were examined by Muggle police, and Smith was most likely examined by the DMLE, but apparently none of them could find any sign pointing to the creation of a Horcrux.

The murder doesn't have to be purely for the purpose of making a Horcrux - the deaths of the Riddles were for revenge, the death of Smith was used to cover up the theft of the Horcruxes-to-be, the intended death of Harry Potter was to avert a prophecy of Voldemort's own destruction, and the death of Bertha Jorkins cleaned up a loose end. But in all cases there is a certain amount of capriciousness in the deaths, so that may be a requirement.

The victim does not have to be magical, since the Riddles weren't. The victim may have to be human, since all of Voldemort's were, but this is less certain.

Many of the murders are committed in the summer, but Harry's attempted murder was at the end of October, so if there is some kind of time-of-year requirement, it does not seem to be very stringent.

I think we can infer that there are no additional murders involved in the preparation ritual, since Slughorn and Dumbledore seem to suggest that the murder which creates the tear in the soul is the most evil part of the process.

So in sum, the process appears to work as follows:

The wizard prepares the Horcrux using some sort of ritual. This ritual probably doesn't involve a murder, but does involve something truly disgusting and horrible. (I've seen speculation that included cannibalism, necrophilia, or some sort of gross blood ritual).

The wizard then murders a victim. As far as we can tell, there are no specific requirements for the murder, other than that the wizard be the ultimate cause and perhaps that the murder be unnecessary. This murder, as all murders do, splits the wizard's soul in two.

Finally, the wizard casts a charm to move the soul fragment into the Horcrux. The Horcrux is now complete and the wizard cannot be truly killed without destroying it.

Hope that was as interesting for you guys as it was for me! I wanted to include something about Horcruxes, seeing as in Canon Dumbledore had a suspicion about Voldemort being immortal, but he wasn't certain completely until he came back in Philosophers Stone and he saw a destroyed Horcrux in Chamber of Secrets. I reckon he had an inkling though. I wanted to show Dumbledore's point of view a bit because I don't want people to hate him too much, but don't want people to like him too much.

Also just thought I'd add a bit of dialogue with Neville and Lorcan on the end.

Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed!