Author's Note – This 'story' is basically a collection of vignettes. Their length and depth will depend on the topic but I wouldn't expect any of them to exceed 10,000 words while most will be much shorter.

I have my own ideas, which I am working on in turn but the other purpose is to invite suggestions. Be as fanciful as you wish (as an example my goddaughter has me positing Harry was rescued by his squib uncle Alfred Pennyworth who left the Potter family as a result of British pureblood racism and raised as the 2nd Robin).

Lastly, I naturally do not profit off these ideas. If there is anything you happen to like and want to run with I wish you well.

What If…

Episode 1—Dumbledore discovers the body of Myrtle Warren first.

POD—There is no indication how Myrtle's body is or when after the attack it was discovered in canon. For my purposes, Sir Nicholas discovers the body and informs Dumbledore immediately thereafter.

Chapter 1

Sunday June 13th 1943

Albus Dumbledore rested comfortably in his favorite chair beside the fireplace in his quarters, reviewing the 6th year examinations. To his left sat one of his most promising students, Minerva McGonagall, reviewing 2nd year examinations. The young witch was truly skilled in all aspects of magic but she was a prodigy in transfiguration. Following her graduation, he hoped to steer her towards earning her mastery in the subject.

The peaceful night was broken by Sir Nicholas floating through the wall. "Forgive my interruption Professor Dumbledore but there is an incident that requires your attention in the 2nd floor girl's bathroom. A student has sadly been…attacked."

Albus didn't bother warning Minerva not to leave his office. He simply used Fawkes to flame out then rendered the room unescapable until he returned. That finished he raced off.

"Were there any witnesses to the attack?"

"None that I am aware of beyond the perpetrator. During my travels of the 2nd floor, I came across a cloaked individual fleeing the hallway leading to the girl's bathroom; they were moving urgently but not in haste. When they saw me however they ran off downstairs. While not disguised, they were at least aware enough to keep their cloak up. I considered following them but I chose instead to investigate the bathroom."

"Have you informed the Headmaster or any other professors?"

"I did not. Forgive me sir but I do not have great confidence in Headmaster Dippet."

Albus, in spite of the circumstances, chuckled. He didn't have great confidence in Armando either. The mirth immediately died as he stepped into the bathroom and saw Myrtle Warren's body lying on the floor. It appeared she had been in the stall and when she stepped out she was attacked. What was most disturbing was the skin surrounding the eyes were charred black and her eyes had been vaporized in their sockets.

He cast several diagnostic and forensic spells over Myrtle's body. There were no physical blemishes on her body (besides the eyes), including any that had been healed by magical means. There were no unusual potions or poisons in her bloodstream. As he examined her eyes, he found the residue of incredibly powerful and dark magic but it was nothing he could identify, at least on the spot.

After granting the poor girl a moment of silence, he decided to investigate the environment. Using Miss Warren's body as a point of reference, he deduced the assailant would have been standing in front of the sinks.

What is this he mused as several of his charms fizzled out as they reached the sinks? They were low powered but should not fade away. Surprisingly, when he pumped more power into them, they still fizzled out.

Using more obscure spells, Dumbledore discovered the source of the obstruction. His eyes hardened ever so slightly, the image of a suspect immediately forming in his mind. There had been other attacks this year against muggleborns, purportedly done under the name of the 'Heir of Slytherin'. Armando did not consider them worth investigating since the victims were either petrified or battered and bruised. Since the school had stock of mandrake drought and a perfectly capable healer, Armando did not wish to panic the students or parents.

Now however, with a student killed, presumably by either powerful dark magic or—more likely—a magical creature, he could not sideline an investigation any longer.

Dumbledore cast several spells to preserve the scene and then sealed the room, including animating several bodies of armor to block entrance. As he made his way to the Headmaster's office, he sent a patronus to an old friend in the auror office.

Chapter 2

Tom sat among his followers, ignoring the rumors swirling among the mindless idiots he was forced to call classmates.

Internally he cursed that stupid bitch Myra or Moira Washburn. While he was grateful one last mudblood existed in the world, he was not ready for the basilisk to kill so soon. The attacks he and his cohorts performed this year were largely tame—one could say bullying to the extreme. Even the petrification had been meticulously planned; he had even used the imperious to manipulate a pair of 7th year Hufflepuffs to approach Slughorn for extra credit potions brewing, including the mandrake drought.

The gradual escalation was intentional of course. Tom had intended to spend the next two years using increasingly advanced tactics to not only purge the school of filth and rabble but perfect his abilities and spell repertoire.

Needless to say those plans would have to change with a student dead.

"Do you think it's true," Nott asked, gently nudging Tom. "…that a mudblood died?"

Tom visibly considered. "It was be distressing if the school were closed due to the death of a student," he answered. If he sounded uncaring about the student dying…he shrugged. One of his aims this year was escaping the orphanage. He even had a letter in his trunk he planned to send to the Headmaster requesting to stay at the school over the summer. If this blasted mudblood's death ruined that…

He had contingencies of course, plans to put in place in case the basilisk ever killed. He never imagined putting one in place so soon. He refused to risk losing the chance to leave that bloody orphanage though.

He was drawn from his musings as the doors to the Great Hall slammed open and a squad of hardened aurors entered. Their commander walked with Headmaster Dippet and Professor Dumbledore bringing up the rear.

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen," Dippet said once he reached the podium. "It is my sad duty to inform you that last night one of our students was found dead in the 2nd floor girl's bathroom—Miss Myrtle Warren."

The hall broke out into wild exclamations until the auror commander unloaded a cannon BOOM with his wand. "Shut up the lot of you," he bellowed into the sudden silence.

"Thank…thank you Master Auror Moody." The headmaster looked as if the auror frightened him. "Miss Warren's body has been removed from the school and released to her parents. However, in light of the attacks that have taken place this year, culminating with the attack on Miss Warren, Master Auror Archibald Moody and his aurors will be providing protection detail for the castle until the end of term."

The Headmaster stepped back, motioning for the auror to step forward. "Thank you Headmaster," he growled before glowering at the hall, his glare landing at each table. "I'll keep my comments brief. There will be a strict curfew in place starting tonight at 7pm. The Heads of Houses will perform a nightly roll call with an auror present. If you are caught out after roll call, you will be bounced from the castle immediately."

His basilisk glare hardened as he swept the hall again. "One of your fellows was murdered, likely by another student." He paused, letting that settle on the students heavily. "I saw the body. There was no mercy given to the victim. I've seen more merciful killings on the continent. Remember that when you place your life on the line and defy my curfew."

The auror stepped back, his gaze never leaving the student body, now shifting uncomfortably, as Dumbledore stepped forward. "Before breakfast begins, I have one final announcement. All attacks perpetrated this year will be under investigation. While we will respect remaining examinations, please be advised you may be called in to meet with myself and Master Auror Moody. For all students under 17, your head of house will, by default, be present and for those of age you may elect for your head of house to be present. In the interim, please heed all directions from the aurors and professors until the end of term. "

As the hall descended in a flurry of conversation, Tom silently ate, surveying his followers. None of them were skilled in occlumency; only Nott and Rosier had actual defenses erected, though they were pathetic and weak.

The problem is he couldn't wipe their minds. Tom was sure Dumbledore suspected him and his accomplices; only Dippet refusing to allow an inquisition spared them from being found out. But if his followers walked into a meeting after he charmed their memories, Dumbledore would notice.

He sighed. There was really only one option left to him, though it wasn't ideal since he hadn't practiced it on a witch or wizard yet, only muggles. Still, he was confident he could use legilimency to tear the memories from the minds. Since that left behind no magical trace, there would be nothing for Dumbledore to identify.

Chapter 3

Dumbledore unfurled the blueprints for the Hogwarts ward network. Archibald graciously stuck it to the floor once it was rolled out.

"You're saying these are parseltongue wards Albus."

"Correct," he said, looking over the intersections and overlaps within the ward network. When he found the 2nd floor bathroom, he beckoned the auror over. "If you look here, there are no localized wards anywhere on this floor—yet the power of those wards protecting the sink rival those protecting the Headmaster's office."

Waving his wand in several controlled motions, Dumbledore caused the wards in front of the sink to illuminate in a myriad of colors. Another set of waves made the more pale colors vanish, which represented the wards of the castle one could find in any room. What remained were four darker shades of green, orange, red and lavender respectively.

"I am glad Armando finally parted with these blueprints," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling as he looked upon the parseltongue wards. "This past week has been fruitless since I could not identify what wards were legitimate."

"Well you found them," Moody said gruffly. "Now what? The magic necessary to take down the wards would likely collapse the floor above us."

Dumbledore removed what looked like a miniature muggle baseball card and enlarged it. A surely, monkey-esque man glowered at Moody until Dumbledore pointed him towards the sink. "If you please Salazar," he said expectantly.

Moody's eyebrows shot to his hairline as the bigoted founder, albeit reluctantly, spoke in parseltongue, instantly dismantling the wards and causing the sink to levitate, revealing a massive tunnel leading Merlin knows how far down.

"After me I say," Albus said after placing a small silver gadget on the adjacent sink. He was evidently enjoying himself despite the gravity of the situation. Shaking his head, Moody made sure his aurors kept the bathroom locked down and followed him down the chute.

Moody compulsively cursed the snake skin as they rounded a dark corner. "This isn't funny Albus," he growled as his old friend trotted forward chuckling.

"Certainly not Archibald…certainly not."

The portrait of Salazar Slytherin came out again when they reached a large iron door with snakes etched around the perimeter.

Moody's stern mask wavered as he looked over the large chamber decorated with towering pillars of snakes, leading to a massive statue of Salazar Slytherin. "What a bloody narcissist."

"And your contribution to British magical society would be what again fool," the portrait said with a sneer.

Dumbledore cleared his throat before the auror could respond. "Now Salazar, where is the basilisk?"

"We're down here with a BLOODY BASILISK!"

"I assure you we're perfectly safe."

"You do not have to kill my baby Dumbledore."

"I know Salazar and I promise I won't. It must be moved however. As your old friends pointed out, the safety of the students is paramount."

Slytherin sighed then hissed something that made Dumbledore chuckle. "Greatest you say."

Moody shook his head at Dumbledore's playfulness with an ancient pureblood bigot as a terrifyingly large basilisk (easily 60 feet long) uncoiled mere feet from where he was standing. The basilisk kept its eye closed as it descended, waiting expectantly for Slytherin's next command.

"What will you do with her Albus?"

"One of my old students, Newt Scamander, has volunteered to take possession of her. He has a property in Wales where she can roam outdoors and reside below ground both. As a token of gratitude for you acquiescing to our request to move her, the Headmaster is donating your portrait in the library to his Welsh reserve so you may still see her."

These were the moments Moody truly couldn't believe his friend. Had he been in his position, he would've demanded the old pureblood goat give in and then killed the ruddy snake. While he may be too forgiving at times, Albus was the only wizard in whom Moody always saw honor.

Once the basilisk was gone—using a custom portkey developed by Scamander for the transport of large creatures—and Slytherin's portrait shrunk, Dumbledore became grave. "It saddens me that one with the beliefs as Salazar can still retain their humanity while his youngest heir appears set to forsake theirs."

"What do you mean?"

"It is nothing Archibald. With the basilisk gone, and with the Headmaster's blessing, I should like to repurpose the chamber to serve as a safe haven in the event of an attack but that will need to happen later. For now, I would like you to remove your aurors from the bathroom entrance; except for one you could select who would not mind staying in the bathroom overnight until end of term. I shall provide specialized protection from detection."

Archibald scratched his head. "You expect the perp to come down here again. Do you want the perp caught before they get to the chamber?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No I shall provide your auror with the means to contact me. I want them to allow the individual to return to the Chamber. I shall confront them here."

Chapter 4

Tom was beginning to feel uneasy. There were only three days left before the end of term and he was no closer to pawning off the tragedy on a patsy.

As expected, he and his followers had been interviewed but surprisingly Dumbledore was not present. The Headmaster and Moody spent an hour with them, discussing the attacks. There was no insinuation of guilt or outward demonstrations of suspicion however. It was, in fact, surprisingly tame.

By all accounts, the 5th-7th years of every house were interrogated, which gave him no inkling of the course of the investigation. When that bumbling oaf Hagrid was celebrated by the staff for helping raise an acromantula for next term's Care of Magical Creatures curriculum, it was the first time he genuinely felt at a loss since his 1st year. The halfblood monstrosity was his last, failsafe scapegoat and now that avenue had been solidly closed off.

Without a suitable scapegoat, he could not release the basilisk—at least not while a student. He had a the beginnings of a contingency plan in development to ensure the Chamber could be opened in the future, even if he were not personally in the school. But that did not help him now when he hoped to escape that damned orphanage.

After another hour of silent reflection in the library and coming up with no possible solution, he decided to visit the chamber one last time before term ended. If he could not stay at the castle over the summer, he would take a few of Slytherin's books to study at that bloody hovel.

Leaving the common room after roll call was little challenge. The aurors looked to make sure a student said 'aye' and then forgot them. With his followers deflecting onlookers, he disillusioned himself as the auror left and snuck out behind Slughorn.

Pathetic creatures he thought scornfully as he passed aurors lazily patrolling the halls. He was taking a risk not using heavier magic to cloak his presence for fear it would draw more notice but they were uninterested in even casting the occasional revealing charm.

He felt a pang of anxiety as he entered the bathroom when he heard moans and clanging. He had to stifle a laugh when he realized it was the ghost of the mudblood bitch Warren. Apparently she didn't want to move on. His efforts to remain incognito were further stretched when, upon opening the sink, the pathetic little girl screamed and dove into the toilet.

§Speak to me Slytherin…Greatest of the Hogwarts Four§

Tom stared stupefied as the Slytherin statue opened, revealing not the great basilisk but a most uninvited guest. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

Chapter 5

The sink has been opened. Target or targets are presumed on the move.

Dumbledore gently fiddled the peculiar hourglass on his necklace, releasing a sad sigh as the patronus faded away. He did not wish to subdue Tom. The boy had such promise but it appeared his soul was too far gone to save. "I shall miss you old friend," he crooned to Fawkes, gently stroking his feathers before grabbing one of his silver gadgets—a portkey linked to the chamber—and departed to meet his student.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

Dumbledore leapt from the statue, gently floating to the ground. "I should ask you the same question Tom. Admirable though I find your discovery of the Chamber of Secrets, I am most distressed by your decision to unleash the basilisk on the student body."

Tom's knuckles hardened as he gripped his wand and his eyes flashed crimson but otherwise he maintained his composure. "Is that where we are," he asked, sounding innocently curious. "I was not aware the Chamber was real."

"There is little point to playing innocent Tom. You placed your fate in my hands the moment you evaded curfew. Surely you remember the punishment is expulsion. Since term has technically not concluded, you would be considered expelled before completing your OWLs. The Ministry can legally snap your wand and expel you from the magical community. Your only recourse would be to try and demonstrate you had an extraordinary reason for breaking curfew, something that would render great service to the school. Such claims of course would need to be corroborated."

He watched the young man's anger rising, his once black eyes were now entirely crimson and magic pouring off him in waves. With the barest flick of his wand, Tom cast a powerful expulsion curse, which the Headmaster sidestepped easily.

"You cannot defeat me Tom," Dumbledore said calmly, his wand still holstered and his posture relaxed. "A confrontation would only serve to make matters worse."

The lad adopted a controlled dueling stance, one Dumbledore recognized as one of Horace's favorites. Interesting Dumbledore considered. Since Hogwarts did not have a dueling curriculum and he doubted very seriously the Potions Master would provide lessons to any student, the only logical conclusion was Tom had become sufficiently proficient in legilimency and absorbed tactics from his Head of House (and possibly others).

Deftly moving around the string of spell combos without conjuring a shield or using magic of any kind, Dumbledore was, in spite of the circumstances, impressed by how well Tom absorbed knowledge using legilimency and how advanced a dueler he was considering her had no formal training.

Still…

"Knowledge is meaningless without experience Tom," Dumbledore observed, lifting his arm to allow a ball of acid fly harmlessly under. "While your legilmency abilities are impressive, until you actually face an enemy, the knowledge you stole is purely theoretical."

"Perhaps you would like to fight back," Tom said with a sneer.

"I see little point in exhausting myself," Dumbledore said with a smile. "If you perhaps could hit me I may feel the need to defend myself."

Tom shook with rage, now looking more like a temperamental teenager than an enraged dark lord in training. As expected, he changed his dueling stance, adopting a more aggressive form Dumbledore recognized from a duel involving Cantakarous Nott.

His spells also became darker and more powerful as he drew further upon his magical reserves. It was still nothing he could not avoid with a few bobs, waves and jumps.

"Your arsenal is quite impressive Tom. If I may offer a critique—you have spent far too much developing and honing your reflexes for spell chains. While they are intimidating to the uninitiated, to an experienced opponent they are a mere nuisance. Forgive my arrogance but, as an old man, once I identify a possible pattern, I can time my movements so as to avoid your spells. Many internationally accomplished duelers work tirelessly to hone their reflexes so they can cast randomly with the same speed you cast a chain. Had you not sought to walk a path of darkness I could have helped you achieve your potential."

"ENOUGH! Do not patronize me Dumbledore. This is but a taste of my abilities you filthy muggle lover." With sweeping wave of his wand, he conjured a giant serpent of fire.

§KILL HIM!§

Ducking under the serpent, Dumbledore flicked his hand, trapping Tom up to his neck in stone. He would escape but not quickly and it would drain his already diminished reserves. When the serpent reared and struck again, Dumbledore flung his arms upwards, conjuring a powerful burst of wind, smashing the conjuration on the ceiling and disrupting the fiendfyre enough he could dissipate it easily.

As Tom stared at him, sweating and exhausted, Dumbledore casually brushed a small bit of soot off his shoulder. "Are you done Tom? Though you do not necessarily deserve it, I am content to ignore these last few minutes so as not to put you at risk for life in Azkaban."

"I am not a fool Dumbledore. You expect me to believe you will just allow the Ministry to expel me? You have never trusted me."

"That is because you have given me no reason to trust." Dumbledore sighed regretfully. "I twice ignored my better instincts. When I came to your orphanage, I considered leaving without mentioning Hogwarts. I reconsidered out of respect for the children you were abusing. When you were sorted in Slytherin, I again wondered if I should remove you from Hogwarts but could not bring myself to wipe the mind of a child."

"Wiping my mind will accomplish nothing Dumbledore," Tom sneered, desperately hiding a sudden pang of fear. "My magic will remain and I have loyal friends who will help me reclaim my identity and powers."

"You are of course correct Tom. That is why I did not consider wiping your mind…nor did I ever seriously consider turning you over to the Ministry." For the first time since engaging his pupil, Dumbledore advanced on Tom. "I am truly sorry. Please understand that what I do now I do for the greater good."

Chapter 6

Monday July 1st 1985

"Are you certain my dear I cannot convince you to remain on staff? Your students will assuredly miss you and you still have many years left to teach."

"Leave her be Albus," Professor McGonagall admonished. Leaning over, she set a hand on Professor Gaunt's shoulder. "Don't let him deter you. Merlin knows you've more than earned a happy retirement from potions."

Merope Gaunt laughed merrily. "Is this support for my retirement or just relief I won't be here to lead my House to the Quidditch Cup anymore?"

McGonagall tried to look stern but relented as the rest of the staff laughed. "Perhaps the latter," she answered sadly but with a cheeky smile.

"I am sorry Albus but it is time. I never in my wildest dreams imagined I would be a professor and now I can look back on 50 years of wonderful memories. I would like to see the world now and enjoy the quiet life."

The remainder of the final staff meeting passed uneventfully. Since only Merope was leaving and there were no serious discipline issues, everyone parted for a well-earned summer vacation.

Dumbledore sighed sadly as Merope sat down beside him, though his eyes were twinkling. "Alas it is not to be. Would you do an old mind a kindness however and suggest a successor? I have ideas of course but you've worked with some truly gifted minds on their mastery of late."

Instead of answering, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, tears welling in her eyes. "Is that really all Albus...just who my successor will be."

"You know me too well my dear," he replied, resting his hands over hers. "It is hard to see you go. You've been an integral part of my life for almost 60 years. When I found you…" he shuddered but she held firm before he could reach for a drink. Fawkes crooning softly helped abate his worst feelings.

"When you saved me Albus, not found. I owe my life and my son's to your intervention. I shudder to imagine what would have become of us without you."

"Most gratefully we shall never know." He was even being honest, to a point. Remembering the conversation with his past self all those years ago, he tried to imagine where a wizard with the powers and abilities of Tiberius Gaunt would be if they had surrendered their soul to the darkness.

"You know he is upset with you too," she said snarkily, sitting back. "Yes sir he is most aggrieved."

"I shouldn't wish for the Minister of Magic to be upset with me. What have I done to incur young Tiberius' ire?"

"You're leaving him all alone with the Wizengamot." She actually pouted. "All those terrible lords and ladies will be coming after him when you step down as Chief Warlock."

Dumbledore chuckled merrily. "I imagine he'll endure. Lord Greengrass will fill the role admirably in my stead and will protect him from the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune."

The two sat silently, enjoying the fire. It was something of an annual ritual, though he knew she did it for his sake more now than hers. For him though, remembering the poor, abused young woman trembling in terror in his arms as he spirited her to Hogwarts for her delivery…he shuddered. For him these moments reinforced his peace of mind that he did right by his once future self and by this outstanding young woman and her son. He would miss her terribly when she left the castle.

"Back to my original question my dear," he asked after some time had passed. "Have you considered your successor?"

"Well my first choice would be Lily Potter. She is absolutely brilliant and wasting her potential in the Department of Mysteries. As a plus, Harry will be five this summer and Rose three in September. She'll be able to have them visit her without too much fear they'll be overwhelmed by the student body." Merope gave Dumbledore a bemused look. "That said, she did tell me to advise you that means Lord Prongs and his cohorts will be back in the castle."

Dumbledore winced as if in pain. "You wound me." When she raised an eyebrow in genuine confusion; she knew how much he loved pranksters and the Marauders were some of the best.

The Headmaster sighed melodramatically. "You allowed Minerva to leave without telling her. Now I will be attacked for allowing the Marauders back into the castle."