RIDDLEBOOK

WARNING:

Contains some mature content. Reader's discretion is advised.

THE SUMMONING

The pentacles took me days to prepare and sketch. Some chalk lines had almost been entirely rubbed away due to my lack of leg space. The passage was too dark, but I couldn't risk a fire. I am willing to risk expulsion of seven Slytherins and myself, yet not a fire. I sometimes wondered if I should care more about others and myself. I couldn't. It's unnecessary. They are mere mortals. They will all litter the earth with their ashes one day. But I will be different. I am different. I am Lord Voldemort. I am immortal. I am a god. Gods cannot be mollified by ignominious death. It's undignified. Death is weakness, and death is defeat.

Zusammenrufen der Höllen Dämonen lay in the inner circle of the pentacle. It arrived a week ago. The passage was dark and I can't see the summoning incantations printed upon it, but I don't need to. I have the entire book memorized, down to the last comma. It's only here in case of the inevitable. I don't know what that is yet, but just in case. I redrew my chalk lines again and checked for any mistakes. There weren't any, of course. There can't be. I took a deep breath and began the incantation.

The incantation was a full minute long and must be recited without any exchange of breath. It was in old German. I managed to subtly consult Professor Slughorn with some of the pronunciations while hiding my true intentions.

The incantation was done, and I wasn't yet out of breath. I had practiced it many, many times over.

Almost immediately, a snarling was heard. It sounded as if from far away, creeping closer and closer with every spitting syllable. I recognized some of the words to be Latin. I shuddered despite myself. The snarling ebbed away into hollow whispers. The passage turned cold. I saw frost lining the edges of the stones in the wall. My breath formed clouds and my hands shook. I had never experience this kind of fear before, and I was ashamed at the limits of my pathetic powers in comparison. The hunger I've always felt, this hunger of knowledge, deepened. Knowledge was infinite, and with it was linked power, which in its turn also becomes infinite. To gather and use the powers stored in the cosmos was incredible indeed, and this entity I've summoned has the key to this. I was famished. At this point I was willing to give anything, to do anything for this feast.

The hollow whispering encased me in my pentacle. The faraway voices murmured quietly.

"Look yonder at that moon-sick youth," laughed one bodiless voice. And another cried, "Art thou mad?" I didn't have an answer. The demon pleasures in discomforting the summoner, Faust had written. This is a test. I calmed myself.

"Listen here!" I said loudly, "And listen well. I've summoned you here, King of the Angels Fallen, to serve me, Heir of Slytherin, Lord Voldemort–"

"…And impatience's lover," snickered a small voice. A cannon of laughter erupted. I ignored the voices and stood still, my face a blank slate.

"Tell us," provoked one voice, "hast thou, young stripling, bared thy body to another? Hast thou been loved or be-loved? Hast thou guessed at a woman's flirting eyes? 'Tis these reasons why thou hast come to me in search of answers? I answer thee now: I brew no potions of love for mortals' offspring and share no secrets of lust for the pleasure of a young'un. So let me depart and I shan't brand thee with a devil's curse."

I smothered my flaring anger with a simple scowl. "I do not seek for your guidance in love, demon." The voices around me hissed. "I seek only for a service you can provide me with," my voice was silky, hiding my impatience. "Do my bidding."

A sudden, yellow fog erupted around the pentacle. It rushed to penetrate the protective circle with no avail. I now clearly see the margins of the protecting spell. It looked as if I was standing in a glass dome, outside of which gathered clouds of acid gold.

"Baka!" The demon snarled, its voice echoing again and again, vibrating off the walls of stone. The numb coldness now left the passage and I was immediately reminded of the inside of a furnace. The demon's wrath could not fade the protective powers, but I could feel his heat. The stone passage burned as if a million suns dwelt in it. To my smarting eyes, it seemed that the walls were glowing red and dripping sweat. "What fool dareth to summon Mephostophiles the King?"

"No fool," I answered, "but a daring Lord."

"That title thou doth proclaim upon thyself, 'tis pathetic," Mephostophiles spat. "Test me not, human. Or I take thy pentacle with me back to the burning oceans beyond the Red Gates, in the underside of the Palace of the Damned."

I paled. "Stay, King, and answer my questions." I continued without a break, willing myself to say all that I wish to and not subdue to the demon's threats. "I seek for knowledge beyond this world, and inhuman immortality to live for eternity. These requests should be no more than a speck of dust underneath your feet if you are half the King you have been mythed to be."

Mephostophiles let out a booming laugh. He spoke with soft tenderness. "Thy words are familiar in my ancient ears indeed. I had foolishly thought one disciplined mortal would discourage the others. How wrong was I? Heed my warning, boy, if thou knoweth what is good and right."

"Do not tempt me, Mephostophiles. I do not fear you." I said in a tone matching his. "Grant me what I wish and you shall go free."

Mephostophiles hissed. Thousands of voices accompanied him. "What do thou knoweth of knowledge and immortality? What thou doth wish for is to be what I am! For it is written: only those of the Three Spheres doth live in immortality and become blessed and cursed with knowing of the mortal world."

"You lie!" I cried, outraged. "I've read the Holy Book, and nowhere does it say that." I narrowed my eyes at the yellow clouds before me and sneered. "The knowledge of the mortal world I can gather on my own. The knowledge I seek is that of the universe and all that is infinite."

Mephostophiles's clouds swirled with a tornado-like speed, and a vision appeared before me. My pentacle was no longer in a dark passageway underneath Hogwarts. I was standing on stars, with my back to the sun. The moons of planets I've never seen before hovered over my head and the expanse of the universe was displayed before me. I was within the cosmos.

"Nothing is knowledge like thou hast imagined." Mephostophiles whispered in my ear, "Knowledge is a hindrance, a burden. Infinite knowledge doth destroy one's mind. If thou art human then knowledge beyond what thou doth know cannot be thy tool–"

"Then erase my human form."

"Fool!" Mephostophiles scoffed. "'Tis not what thou doth wish to know that is the question. The question is: what doth thou wish not to know? Humans art beings of nuisance, and full of corruptions. Even the most holy doth have with him the vileness of the unholy. How art thou so different? If I grant thy command, thou shall be driven to madness by thy knowing. Every horror of the human mind shall be unveiled, lying unclothed before thy naïve eyes."

The cosmos changed. The star forms were rearranged, explosions became of the stars at my feet and I was swirled to face the burning sun. I shut my eyes tight, or else I go blind. I knew, even without sound or sight that chaos had ensued.

I risked a question. "And immortality?"

"That," Mephostophiles boomed, "is thy weakness." I opened my eyes in surprise and fear. I was no longer exposed in the universe. I was in a city from antiquity. I was in a library. Scribes skittered around with arms full of books and pamphlets. A man sat with his back to me, seemingly writing something on a lengthy, rolled out scroll.

Mephostophiles blurred the library in the background and drew the pentacle closer to the seated man. "Death is the sole blessing still existent in this world from the ancient ages. Look hither; see this old librarian? He was a wizard. Doth thou recognize his lined leather face?"

I began to shake my head when I caught sight of the book lying open on the lines of the pentacle on the ground before me. My throat became dry. "…Faust," I whispered.

"Johann Faust, yes, 'tis him." Mephostophiles's voice soothed me. Quite suddenly a strong male voice washed over my protective walls and dripped into my ears. It took me a while to realize it was Faust's thoughts. He reminded himself of a seminar at dawn the next morning, thought of dinner with another wizard tonight, remembered a fantasy he had about the servant girl he saw in the market place, fretted over an overdue book, imagined himself cursing a colleague…

"Never a moment's peace," Mephostophiles said, "for an eternity."

I shrugged nonchalantly and immediately regretted it. Faust had written: never display any movement of the body as an indication of thoughts. Demons may use such body language against the summoner. I flushed red in anticipation of a rebellion. A moment passed, it didn't come. My heart slowed it's racing.

"I don't mind," I said.

Mephostophiles growled and the pentacle's edges turned red. I was submerged in a coverlet of the demon's fiery wrath again. Sweat dripped down my brows.

"Explain unto me, boy, what is the point of living if thou knew the remedy to all? Thy purpose would be lost and thy life's meaning forgotten. Thou art a fool!" Mephostophiles screamed.

I was deaf to his warnings. My eyes were set on my goal, fueled by my wild ambition. When I spoke again my voice shook more than I would have liked it to. "I want to make you a pact, Mephostophiles," I shouted over the deafening roars of ungodly fires. The demon clouds' swirling ceased. I could sense it weighing its options.

"Which pact?" The demon king hissed suddenly, making me jump. It took me a while to decipher his meaning. I shook my head curtly. "No pact that has been made before," I said. "I will make you a new pact."

"A new pact?" The demon hesitated. I continued, seeing this as my chance. "I shall free you from your fevered body and open for you the Red Gates of Hell if you ride on my shoulders and lend me your powers," I paused. "This for a period of three months."

The demon's many voices whispered to one another in ancient tongues. At my ear, a child-like chant began to wail:

"From up on high in Father's House,
Seraphim and Cherubim rouse
A rebellion so perverse
That to under-earth the Father curse
The disobedient child,
And down to the burning they filed.
One by one the traitors stalk
As the Three Spheres silently mock
And gaily laughed as the punishment
In-behind the Red Gates underwent…"

The chant faded. And a woman's sobbing bobbled to the surface of the many lamenting screeches of the many demon voices. I understood that the pact was made and the deal was done. And by that I foolishly thought I had won.

000

The girls' restroom was always crowded. I never understood why females must empty their waste receptors in packs. I had to wait till after curfew to enter the restroom unhindered. I had my calculations on a scrap of parchment in my pocket. I didn't need it. I memorized it. But I took it with me in any case. I wanted to be sure.

It was the beginning months of my sixth year. I finished my research that summer and I had already investigated all other possible sites of which the Chamber might be located. But I saved this last site for last because I was almost wholly sure that this was it, that this was the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. This was why I was not at all surprised when the Chamber opened for me. But my heart raced.

I followed the snake-like passageways, constantly reminding myself of its creator, my forefather, who had carved it all himself. This Chamber was his legacy and my inheritance. I felt a sense of total possession, and it overwhelmed me.

I followed the instructions of the Opening closely. I found the summoning runes at the head of the stone snake in the Chamber's centre. I removed from my belt the little blade I took from the potions room and placed it at my wrist. I set the back of my hand over the runes and lifted the blade.

Here it goes, I thought, my unclean blood, the blood of a half-muggle. I couldn't do it. I closed my eyes and tried again. But what if my blood isn't pure enough to open the Chamber and summon the monster of the deep, the horror my ancestor hid…what if I am not pure enough to command the monster? My doubts unnerved me.

My kneeling knees ached and my feet were numb. I tried to move into a sitting position, but my hand slipped. The smallest of pains traveled up my arm. A trickle of crimson dripped onto the runes. I lost my balance and fell to the ground. There I lay and wept. There I found the truth. There I realized that I was human, and therefore I was weak. It was there, as a muscular serpentine body coiled around me, cutting me with its scales, that I realized the limits of my power.

There I decided that I no longer wanted to be merely human.

A/N:

The last part - part five (which is called 'HORCRUX') - will be coming soon.

This short story is my theory on how Voldemort turned out the way he did. Personally, I dont believe in a definite black and white world. In fact, most of the world is grey. Depending on how the light shines, the grey can be interpreted as white or black. The interpretations can vary from person to person. When you get to know a person really well you'll find that they are the way they are for a reason. It can be an event that occured in their life, it can be a person they had known, it can be anything. So basically, what I'm saying is: dont be so quick to judge - everyone has a good side and a bad side. Prince Charming isn't always Prince Charming, and the Big Bad Wolf can sometimes be the Little Riding Hood too.

"You know you've fully grown up when you're dead."