Chapter Two: The Offer and the First Lesson
It was now seven years later and eight year old Harry Potter was lying outside on the lawn nursing bruised ribs from where Dudley had punched him, and doing his homework for school. Harry was an intelligent boy, much more so than his cousin, but he had to hide his intelligence because Vernon and Petunia would hurt him if he showed that he was smarter than their precious Duddykins. To that end, he had enlisted his teacher's help in the matter. One day, seeking a refuge from Dudley and his gang he had gone to his teacher, whose name was Miss Rose and told her about the situation at his home.
Miss Rose was shocked and initially tried to get Harry to tell the police, but Harry wouldn't. He said that when he got older he could leave but for now he had to stay. Miss Rose was upset at this but asked how she could help. Harry had quickly outlined his plan. Miss Rose would make two report cards for him. One carried his real grades and was filed with the school records. The other was the fake one, the one that Harry took home to the Dursleys. It was hard, having to pretend to be dumber than Dudley, but Harry took pride in knowing that for every D and E on his report card that he showed his relatives, there was an A or B on his real one at the school. Miss Rose had merely swapped letters, so a D on the fake was really an A and an E was in reality a B. The Dursleys insulted Harry upon seeing the card, not knowing how he had manipulated the situation.
Harry frowned as he tried to breathe again, something was wrong with at least one of his ribs he knew it. It was then that he heard the familiar hissing from the long patch of grass near where he was lying.
Voldemort had watched his young nemesis for a while now, and had grown angrier and angrier at the way the Muggles treated him. Upon the discovery of Harry's Parseltongue ability, discovered when Harry had had a lengthy conversation with a grass snake one morning, he had switched to possessing snakes almost exclusively so he could communicate with Harry. Over time, he had forgotten his original view of Harry and had thought up a plan for gaining the young boy's trust, with the intention of making him his apprentice. It had been Voldemort who had suggested that Harry to tell his teacher about the Dursleys, but Harry had thought up the report scheme all on his own making the Dark Lord very proud.
Voldemort smirked to himself, if the boy accepted his offer then he would make a promising Slytherin, and wouldn't that shock the Wizarding World. The Savior of the Wizarding World in Slytherin. He could almost hear the screams of outrage now. In order to make the boy his apprentice though, he needed to properly introduce himself, which he couldn't do as a snake.
Concentrating hard, he created an image of how he used to look before Harry reduced him to a malignant mist and slowly moved from the snake that he had inhabited. Harry watched in shock and confusion as a mist seemed to rise from the snake and coalesce into the form of a tall man with red eyes. As Harry looked on, the man, who Harry noticed was almost see-through, stretched and moved around a bit before looking straight at him.
"Hello Harry" the man said softly.
"Er, hello. Who are you?" Harry responded, wondering who this stranger was.
"I used to be called Tom Riddle but I changed my name to Lord Voldemort," the man replied. Harry nodded his head.
"OK. I'm Harry Potter, but how do you know my name?"
Voldemort chuckled. "I have been watching you for a while now, Harry. I have a question for you. Do you believe in magic?"
Harry frowned. "My uncle said that magic doesn't exist" he said hesitantly. This brought a snort from his new friend.
"Your uncle says other things that are untrue, why wouldn't he lie about the existence of magic?"
"Um, okay. Why did you ask me that?"
Voldemort sat down beside the small boy, even though he was floating a few inches off the ground. "Because Harry, all those odd things that keep happening around you, all those things that you can't explain, they're magic. You, Harry, are a wizard."
Harry gaped at Voldemort, his head spinning. Finally he thought about all the times he had made unexplainable things happen, and a smile slowly crept over his face. Finally he asked, "Are you a wizard too?"
Voldemort nodded. "Yes or at least I was. I'm currently not dead, but not fully alive either. Don't worry about that at the moment, just know that I can help you learn to control and use your magic."
"You can help me control my magic?" Harry asked.
Voldemort nodded again. "Yes I can. Do you want to learn?"
"So I'd be your apprentice or something like that?"
Voldemort restrained himself from rolling his eyes and reminded himself that Harry was still a young child and needed things to be spelt out for him.
"Yes. You would be my apprentice, and before you ask what you call me, it's Master, or my Lord."
"Okay, Master" Harry said brightly, excited at the chance to learn to control the odd happenings and stop them from occurring, or else do them purposefully. Voldemort smiled, and thought to himself, 'He's mine now, and I can slowly turn him to the Dark. Oh Dumbledore you won't know what hit you.'
He noticed Harry waiting patiently and floated closer to him, frowning when his new apprentice winced in pain. "Harry?" he asked, slightly concerned. Normally Dark Lords didn't do concern, or any other emotion save anger or hatred but he couldn't teach Harry if the child was in pain whenever he was near him. Also, he found that he didn't want to be angry or annoyed around Harry, he needed someone with whom he could let down his mask of the fearsome Dark Lord and just be himself. Even if his self was not too far removed from his Dark Lord persona.
"My scar hurts" Harry said. "Why does it hurt?" Voldemort considered the question.
"It may hurt because of how you got it. What do you know of how your parents died?"
Harry scowled. "Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia said that they died in a car crash. Did they lie about that too?"
Voldemort nodded. "Yes they did. Do you know how your parents died?"
Harry shook his head. "No, Master. I sometimes have nightmares where there's a bright flash of green light and a scream but nothing else. What's wrong?" he finished, noting that his new master seemed annoyed.
Voldemort was not annoyed with Harry, but with himself. He hadn't thought that Harry might remember his parents' deaths. 'This could make things difficult, how the hell do I explain this without turning him completely against me' the Dark Lord thought to himself. After a few minutes he hit upon a brilliant idea.
"Nothing's wrong Harry, I was just thinking," he replied. "Now, do you want to know how your parents died?"
"Yes. I also want to know how you ended up as a ghost," Harry responded immediately, hungry for the truth that had been kept from him by the Dursleys.
"They are interconnected," Voldemort began slowly, working out how best to tell the story. He decided to start with a bit of background on the Wizarding World so his apprentice wouldn't be confused.
"There is a school in Scotland, a magic school, called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. All magical children in Britain go to Hogwarts when they turn eleven. The school is run by an old wizard called Albus Dumbledore. Now, there are several groups of wizards and witches within the magical world. One group is the purebloods, those who have only wizards and witches in their family. The second group is the half-bloods, which you and I are. We have usually one Muggle parent and one magical parent. In your case you had two magical parents but your mother was a Muggle-born and you have muggles in your family tree from her side. The third group is Muggle-borns, those who are magical but whose parents are both Muggles. The last group is Squibs and they are the opposite of Muggle-borns, their parents are magical but they aren't."
"What are Muggles?" Harry asked. Voldemort frowned at being interrupted and lightly ran a ghostly finger down Harry's scar. The eight-year-old winced but held still, figuring that it was his master's way of punishing him for interrupting. He was right but Voldemort also wanted to know how close he could get to Harry before he caused him pain. It would be no good if he got his body back only to have to stay a certain distance away from his apprentice. Shaking himself out of his thoughts he continued the brief lesson on the magical world.
"Muggles, my young apprentice, are people with no magic in them, people like your relatives. Now, how this relates to the war is very simple. Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, is the leader of the "Light" side. He believes that Muggle-borns should be allowed in the magical world, he thinks that if Muggles discover that we exist that they will accept us and everything will be good. You and I know different. You only have to look at your relatives to know that his idea is wrong. Also, allowing Muggle-borns to marry into wizarding families weakens the magic, dilutes it. The magic within witches and wizards is growing weaker with every generation as more and more Muggleborns enter our world. Now, a certain amount of new blood must be brought in every generation or so to prevent inbreeding but not to the extent that Dumbledore would have. Because I didn't have the same ideas as Dumbledore, he labeled me Dark and evil. My followers and I started the war to try and stop our world from being found out by the Muggles."
"Did you kill people?" Harry asked, not frightened in the least. Voldemort looked at him, wondering if he should be removing Harry's innocence at such a young age. Then he reminded himself that Harry needed to get used to the idea of torture and death if he was to make any sort of halfway decent Dark Lord when he was older.
He nodded. "Yes I did. My followers, the Death Eaters did most of the torture and killing, I only killed when people attacked me personally, or none of my Death Eaters could do the job." He left out the fact that the torture included rape and mutilation of children as well as adults; he didn't want to totally ruin the child's view of him. That could come later, once his apprentice had grown up a bit, maybe when he was fourteen or fifteen.
"OK so Dumbledore didn't agree with you, he called you evil and there was a war that killed my parents. Or rather, you killed them. Did they not agree with you?" Harry asked.
Voldemort smirked. "As I have already explained, Harry, I tried to get them to see reason, but they were too close to Dumbledore. He had brainwashed them into only being able to see his point of view."
"How did he brainwash them?" Harry questioned.
"By using a special magic that I'll teach you when you're older. I'll teach you how to defend against Dumbledore's abilities so he doesn't brainwash you, and I'll also teach you how to do what he can. That's for when you're older though, so don't think about it at the moment."
Harry nodded and then said, "Yes Master." He was slightly disappointed but realized that his master couldn't teach him everything at once. Seeing Voldemort looking at him intently he straightened so he wasn't slouching.
Just then Petunia walked out the front door, heading for the car. She didn't see Voldemort, which puzzled Harry until he thought that maybe only he could see the Dark Lord. When she had gone he looked inquiringly at Voldemort.
"Yes Harry, only you can see and hear me unless I want others to see or hear me. I'm your own personal ghost, until I get my body back that is."
"I'll help you get it back, Master" Harry said earnestly.
Voldemort laughed, not an evil laugh but a genuine one, which he hadn't done for a long time. "Yes you will Harry. Not for a while though, maybe a few years. I can wait that long. For now though, do you want your first lesson in using your magic?"
"Yes!" Harry exclaimed. Voldemort smirked.
"OK. What I want you to do is sit still, close your eyes and breathe slowly, in and out, in and out. Can you do that?"
Harry responded by doing exactly what Voldemort had said. It was difficult for him at first, seeing that he was only eight but he didn't want to fail his first lesson, nor disappoint his mentor so he did the best he could. The Dark Lord was looking intently at him, rather surprised at how well he was doing. Most eight year olds wouldn't have been able to do it.
Speaking softly so he didn't break Harry's concentration, Voldemort said, "Now Harry, I want you to think of nothing. I want you to concentrate only on your breathing. Your mind should be clear and blank." He waited a few minutes before asking, "Is your mind clear?"
"I think so Master. I see nothing but white, with random thoughts floating around," Harry answered, puzzled. Voldemort nodded.
"That's good Harry. I want you to go inwards, keeping your mind clear. You should see a small ball of light inside you. When you've found it I want you to go to it."
Harry followed the instructions but it was hard. He had no idea how he was supposed to "go inwards" but focused on finding the small ball of light. He squeaked when he found it and only just managed to keep his concentration. He heard, as if from a great distance, his master telling him to go into the light, to wrap himself in it.
Voldemort was shocked. He knew when Harry had found his core, both from the startled squeak his apprentice had emitted, and also from the soft yet noticeable glow that spread around him so that he appeared to be encased in a glowing shield.
'He will be powerful indeed. I am so glad I came up with this idea, I definitely do not want him as my enemy' Voldemort thought to himself. He jerked himself out of his plans for Harry's future and spoke again, keeping his voice soft, with a slight hissing to it that sounded oddly hypnotic and soothing.
"OK, Harry that's very good. Now I want you to come back. Just come back out of the light and back to me." He waited until Harry's eyes opened and then smiled.
"Very well done, Harry. Very well done indeed. That was your magical core, that ball of light. It will grow as you do, so don't worry about it being small at the moment." He broke off as he saw that Harry looked almost as if he was bouncing up and down on the spot.
"But Master, it wasn't small, well not really small. It was about the size of a soccer ball, about this big," Harry said, indicating the size with his hands.
Voldemort was shocked speechless; generally speaking Harry's core should be about the size of a golf ball at his present age. Shaking his head he said, "That's interesting Harry. Can you go back to your core like you did just now?"
Harry nodded and did so. He wasn't yet practiced enough to fall immediately into a trance, it was only his second time after all but in the end he found it. Looking up at his master, his eyes glowing a bit, he asked, "Now what?"
"Now, Harry, you draw out a little bit of magic, just a little bit, like a thread, and your first lesson will be in healing. Direct that small thread to where your injuries are and imagine them being healed and not sore."
He sat back and watched as Harry frowned and followed the instructions. After a while, as Harry had had to resurface out of the trance and go back in a few times when he lost control of the magic, the bruises were gone and the cracked rib looked to be, if not fully healed then at least healed enough to not pose a danger to Harry's lung."
Harry opened his eyes and gazed at Voldemort. The Dark Lord looked back neutrally. In a tired voice Harry asked, "I think I did it. My side still feels funny."
"It will, as it's not fully mended yet. You can do that tomorrow though. For now rest, you did very well. All your bruises are gone and the rest can be dealt with later. Sleep."
"Can't. Dudley and Uncle Vernon will be home soon," Harry mumbled. He really wanted to sleep but feared his Uncle's wrath if he was caught.
"Leave them to me. Just go to your room and rest Harry, you can't learn magic, or ordinary schoolwork if you're dead tired." He watched as Harry got up, and stumbled inside, carrying his schoolwork with him. Curious, Voldemort floated through the wall, the wards that Dumbledore had put in place having no effect on him as he didn't mean Harry any harm. When he saw what Harry called his bedroom, the Dark Lord vowed to find a way of removing Harry from the Muggles as soon as humanly possible. He seethed, and looked forward to scaring the life out of Harry's relatives. No one hurt Lord Voldemort's apprentice and got away with it. He mourned the loss of his wand; he really wanted to do a few Crucios right now. Shaking his head he saw the cupboard door close and soon soft snores began. Smirking, the invisible Dark Lord floated right in front of it, guarding his young apprentice from any harm the Muggles might wish to inflict.