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Dedication: The Single Fanboy, thanks for being there from the very beginning and sticking by the story as I wrote. Very appreciated and thanks for always reviewing!
Thanks: Kara Hall, thanks for reading and for your reviews!
"...I have it," said a voice from behind him.
Tom raised his eyebrows, sneered again, and turned around. Draco Malfoy was standing at the top of the stairs and holding up a small but fairly thick book in his hands.
"I have the Tales of Beedle the Bard..."
CHAPTER 43: THE DEATHLY HALLOWS
"There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight. In time, the brothers reached a river too treacherous to pass. But, being learned in the magical arts, the three brothers simply waved their wands and made a bridge. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure. It was Death and he felt cheated, for travelers would normally drown in the river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the brothers and said that each had earned a wish for their cleverness.
The oldest, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence. So Death fashioned one from an elder tree on the banks of the river. The second brother asked for the power to recall loved ones from the grave. So Death plucked a stone from the river and offered it to him. Finally, Death turned to the third brother. A humble man, he asked for something that would allow him to go forth from that day and not be followed by Death. And so it was that Death reluctantly handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility. Death then stepped aside and the brothers went their separate ways.
The first brother traveled to a distant village where, with the Elder Wand in hand, he killed a wizard with whom he had once quarreled. Drunk with the power that the wand had given him, he bragged of his invincibility. But that night, another wizard crept upon him as he lay sleeping. He took the Elder Wand and slit the brother's throat for good measure. And so Death took the first brother for his own.
Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his home where he took out the stone and turned it thrice in hand. To his delight, the girl he had once hoped to marry before her untimely death appeared before him. Yet soon she turned sad and cold, for she did not belong in the mortal world. Driven mad with hopeless longing, the second brother killed himself so as to join her. And so Death took the second brother.
As for the third brother, Death searched for many years but was never able to find him. Only when he had attained a great age did the youngest brother shed the Cloak of Invisibility and give it to his son. He then greeted Death as an old friend and went with him gladly, departing this life, as equals."
Draco did not look up from the book, but slowly closed it in his lap and stared down at it. None of the Death Eaters spoke. They were too afraid to speak. Tom slowly rose from his seat and began to walk around the room, thinking. So there they were...the Deathly Hallows. The cloak, the stone, and the wand. In all his years at Hogwarts, he had never once heard of them. How very peculiar. To this day, magic was still finding its ways of surprising him. Tom chuckled.
The Death Eaters, all of them beyond confusion at his laughter, avoided his eyes but waited for him to say something. He did not. Instead, he retreated down to the dungeons, and this time, the others knew not to follow him.
"So tell me," he called out to the scrawny little wizard sitting in the shadowed corner and trembling, "Do they exist?"
The wizard hugged his knees and began to rock himself back and forth, but said nothing.
Tom raised his wand and pointed it at him.
"Do...they...exist?"
"N-no one knows f-for s-sure," the wizard answered.
"Are you lying to me again, Ollivander?" said Tom, who took a step towards him.
"I'm not!" the wizard said in a hoarse voice. "I swear, I don't have it!"
"I believe you don't have it," said Tom, coolly, "But that does not answer my question. I—"
"My lord!"
Tom turned around to find Avery standing at the foot of the stairs, looking somewhat frightened.
"My lord, S-Snape and Malfoy and the C-Carrows have to leave n-now. They asked me to t-tell you."
Tom glared at him and then turned back to Ollivander.
"I'll deal with you later," he hissed, before following Avery out of the dungeons.
SEVERUS SNAPE CONFIRMED AS HOGWARTS HEADMASTER
Severus Snape, long-standing Potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was today appointed Headmaster in the most important of several staffing changes at the ancient school. Following the resignation of the previous Muggle Studies teacher, Alecto Carrow will take over the post while her brother, Amycus, fills the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
In accordance with the new regime at the Ministry of Magic, Hogwarts School is insisting on the required attendance of every magical child living in Great Britain. Children will be sorted on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. It is there where it will be determined which of them belong at Hogwarts.
The Death Eaters were all passing the newspaper around with gleeful smirks on their faces. Tom stood at the top of the stairs and watched them. He could understand it. Hogwarts, the Ministry. It was all under their control now. Of course they wanted to celebrate a little. But this was exactly how it happened last time. Things were going so well and they did nothing but celebrate. And that's why it all came toppling down. So no, Tom did not grant them permission to celebrate this time. Instead, he kept them busier than they'd ever been before.
Yaxley spent day and night at the Ministry training his heads of department under the newly affirmed wizarding laws. Tom had spent a good couple of days with Yaxley, explaining to him exactly what he wanted. And now, Yaxley was in charge of making it all happen.
The Muggle-Born Registrations were coming along perfectly. Pamphlets were being mailed to every wizarding household regarding the new regime. They taught that mudbloods are a danger to all who have magical blood. They went into great detail about the dangers that these mudbloods pose and how they must be terminated immediately. They emphasized that those who assisted mudbloods in hiding would be treated as equally guilty, for they would now be seen as blood traitors in the eyes of the Ministry.
The Daily Prophet began to list the names of the muggle-borns who'd failed to register with the commission. They were now on the "Wanted" list and their neighbours were instructed to hand them over to authorities. The Death Eaters were hard at work in trying to find these convicts. Between that and changing shifts outside of the Black family house, things were extremely busy.
By mid-September, Snape had already managed to change the entire Hogwarts curriculum. The Carrows were very helpful in keeping the subjects in line with the new teachings. Students were sorted on the Hogwarts Express platform and those of "irregular" blood were sent away for…rehabilitation, as Tom liked to call it. At least their statues made for splendid decorum in Nott's old mansion and all along Diagon Alley.
Tom's next outburst of anger occurred later in September when he read in the Daily Prophet that Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger had managed to break into the Ministry of Magic and escaped as well. He of course summoned Yaxley over to the Malfoy house at once, and let him endure the evil wraths of the Cruciatus Curse. Tom had to be stopped by Avery because otherwise he would have killed Yaxley there and then. But he and Avery both knew that Yaxley was still very much needed, to keep things flowing on the politics end. So Tom kicked him hard and stormed out of the house, still raging with fury.
He was surprised to find that Avery followed him out. They hadn't been alone together since that day in the dungeons last year, when Avery had fought with Rowle. Tom took deep breaths and cursed out loud, while Avery waited. It was completely embarrassing, how Potter had managed to get in and get out without a scratch. What would people think? Lord Voldemort could not even sustain a petty little teenager!
"I never thought I'd come this far and still be unhappy, Avery," Tom said into the darkness.
Avery gave him a small smile.
"I always knew you'd get far. You have those leadership-type qualities built into your very skin."
Tom chuckled lightly and then took another deep breath.
"I'm grateful that you stopped me back there," he told Avery. "As much as I hate to admit it, I still need him around."
"That's why I did it," nodded Avery. "He's an idiot but he has his uses."
"Yes," agreed Tom. "I just really don't like getting bad news."
Avery bit his lip.
"Well then I'm afraid, I have to disappoint you again, my lord."
Tom looked up at him.
"Um… Ollivander doesn't look like he will last much longer…"
"Oh?"
"Yes, he's very underfed and the darkness of the dungeons is starting to take its toll on him—not that I care for his wellbeing of course," Avery added at the look on Tom's face, "But if you want to further question him, now is the time."
"Now, when I'm most angry and will not hesitate to kill him if he upsets me?" said Tom.
Avery smirked.
"I promise, I'll be there to stop you."
"Thank you, Avery."
Still raging slightly, though admittedly calmer now than before, Tom made his way over to the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, with Avery at his heels. He marched right up to Ollivander and once again grabbed him by the neck and held him up against a wall.
"Where is the Elder Wand?!" he hissed.
"I…I don't k-know!" cried Ollivander, hoarsely.
Tom threw him against the wall again and again. The wizard cried in pain and whimpered.
"G-g-gregorovitch!" Ollivander cried. "A-ask him! H-he should k-know!"
Tom let go of Ollivander and once again he fell to the floor with a yell of pain.
"Gregorovitch?" Tom repeated.
"Mykew Gregorovitch," said Ollivander. "He should know where it is."
"Now was that so hard?" said Tom, and with a smirk, he and Avery left the dungeons.
It took some time to track down Gregorovitch. Tom journeyed south to his residence but was only greeted with some unimportant wizarding family that knew nothing of his whereabouts. Furious, Tom killed them all and continued his search for this wizard. Finally, sometime in November, Tom managed to locate him and instantly put him under the full body-bind curse. Gregorovitch struggled and cried out in pain as Tom cast Levicorpus on him as well. Finally, when Tom was finished torturing him, he knelt down beside him and looked him in the eyes.
"Tell me where it is," he hissed, angrily. "I need the Elder Wand. I know you have it so just hand it over."
"I d-don't have it anym-more!" cried Gregorovitch. Tom sneered and lifted his wand again. "I s-swear. It was s-stolen from m-me! Y-y-years ago!"
"Who stole it?!" yelled Tom, who was growing very impatient.
Everything was going wrong lately. Everything. Potter was waltzing freely around the Ministry of Magic. Muggle-borns were hiding and refusing to register. And then there was this Quibbler newspaper that was writing some not very nice things lately, to contradict all that the Prophet was saying. Tom was at the height of his powers once again, and he felt even worse than he did before.
"WHO STOLE IT?!" he demanded again.
"The b-boy!" cried the wizard. "It was he who took it from me. I s-swear it on m-my life!"
Enraged to have exhausted months of effort to find Gregorovitch and learn that he was not any closer to the wand, Tom performed Legiliments on the wizard and searched through his mind until he located the memory of the night in question. A young man had indeed broken into Gregorovitch's shop and had indeed stolen the wand. And Gregorovitch indeed had no idea who this figure was, but only remembered his face.
Tom pulled out of his mind, rose to his feet, and smiled down at Gregorovitch.
"I believe you," he said.
"T-then p-p-please don't k-kill me," said Gregorovitch.
Ignoring him, Tom waved his wand and sent a jet of green light at the wizard. He yelled out and then became immobile. Still furious, Tom apparated to the hillside where he used to walk with Nagini. He spent the rest of the day there.
December soon stepped into play, bringing with it some chilly winds, some snow, and very little sun. The Death Eaters were still very active and busy as ever. They tried their hardest to please Tom but no matter what they did, he was still not satisfied. And it was all because of the Elder Wand.
He had not felt this obsessed about something since the first time he'd read about Horcruxes. It was the kind of obsession that took control of him completely. He thought of nothing else but the Elder Wand. The Death Stick. The ULTIMATE Murder Weapon. He wouldn't eat. He wouldn't sleep. Or, when he would sleep, he would dream about the wand. He wanted it. He needed it. He had to have it. And he would not rest until he had it.
As the weeks went by, Tom busied himself with learning more about Gellert Grindelwald. He could not believe that he had never read anything about him. Tom had been too busy in his own school years immersing himself in the dark arts that he'd never bothered reading up on anyone else that had done the same. According to the many historic books that he could find at Malfoy Manor, Gellert Grindelwald had been, apart from himself, the darkest wizard of all time. He was schooled at Durmstrang Institute until his expulsion. At some point, he moved to a village called Godric's Hollow where he befriended Dumbledore. Together, they plotted to rise in power and lead a revolution with the aim of ending the international Statute of Secrecy.
Tom became very interested in reading up on this and did nothing but read for all of the month of December, while his Death Eaters worked endlessly with the movement, captured and killed as many muggle-borns as they could track down, and continued to enforce the new laws. Tom spent most of the month shut up in the Malfoy Manor sitting room, reading.
After all the reading and research that he'd done on Gellert Grindelwald the last couple of months, Tom found himself thinking a lot about what could have been, had they been born into the same generation. What would they have amounted to, together? They had so many things in common. So much that could have been. But he agreed that it was not his style. He worked solo. Always had. That was the difference between them. Grindelwald sounded like he needed Dumbledore, and Tom knew that he most definitely did not need him.
Grindelwald and Dumbledore had apparently been best buds for years and years, both of them sharing the passion to rise up in the wizarding world. However, they clearly had different ideas of what that would entail and began to fight amongst each other. This led to an argument which ended the life of Dumbledore's sister Ariana. Growing bored with this information, Tom skipped ahead to more about Grindelwald himself. Apparently, after this falling out with Dumbledore, Grindelwald busied himself with the dark arts and began to pursue the Hallows. He tracked down Gregorovitch and stole the Elder Wand from him, proceeding to use it for his own needs. He was definitely notorious and participated in many famous killings. He even established a power base in continental Europe at the fortress Nurmengard. However, in 1945, when he was at the height of his power, he was confronted by none other than Dumbledore, who defeated him in what was thought to have been a legendary duel. Grindelwald was subsequently imprisoned in his own fortress for decades.
"Ugh!" cried Bellatrix as she shoved the Quibbler from her lap angrily.
Tom looked up from his book. He eyed the headlines which she had been reading and smiled to himself.
ALLEGED MURDERER IN CHARGE OF YOUR CHILDREN!- more on Severus Snape
SCRIMGEOUR DISAPPEARS!
WIZARDS INVADE GRINGOTTS!
DEATH EATER ATTACKS ON MUGGLES
WIZARDING WIRELESS SAVED BY UNDERGROUND BROADCASTS?
"What does Wizarding Wireless mean?" he asked Bellatrix lazily.
"It's an underground network that has been established by the blood traitors, my lord," answered Narcissa Malfoy, who was sitting on the other side of the room with her husband.
Tom nodded and looked back at his book. It was the thirteenth of December. Tom was in the sitting room of Malfoy Manor with a couple of his Death Eaters. They had just had dinner and all were now keeping to themselves. Tom had spent the entire day reading and was continuing to do so now. Greyback was sitting in the corner, talking to Wormtail. Narcissa and Lucius were in another corner. Bellatrix was beside Tom. Rowle and Avery were playing cards (they seemed to have become best buds since Rowle's recent memory modification) and Rabastan and Rodolphus were arguing about something. Nott and Mulciber were still eating at the table and Rookwood was also somewhere there, lurking.
"I see they still haven't learned, have they?" said Tom.
"No, my lord," Lucius answered. "They use it to keep contact with each other and monitor any news. We…we've tried tracking it but…it's very well p-protected, my lord."
"I see," was all Tom had to say to that.
Gellert Grindelwald was a notorious wizard, not known for murdering but more for conquering. It is believed that one of his many life goals was to obtain the Resurrection Stone (from the famous Tale of the Three Brothers) in order to raise an army of inferi. However, few believe that he ever actually succeeded in doing so. Nonetheless, he continued to dive so far into the Dark Arts, encouraging his withdrawal from the long-time friendship with Albus Dumbledore.
Like many other wizards in history, Grindelwald felt the pull of the Dark Arts and thought of nothing else. He, like so many others, became very interested in the famous Deathly Hallows and sought them out in order to become the Master of Death. After all, it was he who appropriated the runic symbol of the Deathly Hallows as his own personal emblem. It was also engraved on the walls of Durmstrang Institute prior to his departure.
"We should do something about this," said Greyback as he scanned the article in the Quibbler as well. "It's preposterous!"
Tom laughed out loud.
"Look at you, using such big words," he commented once he'd calmed down.
Greyback growled but said nothing.
"If something needs to be done, then let it be done," said Tom, simply, looking at the group sitting in the room with him. "Don't you all have better things to do than sit here and wait for me to instruct you? There are mudbloods out there hiding. Find them. Kill them. Kill anyone and everyone who opposes the movement. Show them that we mean business."
"Y-yes, my lord," they said in unison.
Rolling his eyes at them, Tom returned to his book and eyed the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. He ran his ice-cold, pale finger along it and frowned. He had seen that symbol before…in Dumbledore's office back at Hogwarts. All those times that he had been called there for interrogation and he had never thought to ask Dumbledore the meaning of this symbol. He could've known all of this information long ago. He could've started his quest for the Deathly Hallows years ago.
Feeling slightly displeased, he shut the book aggressively and threw it to the other side of the room, frightening some of the Death Eaters.
"My lord," said Avery, taking a seat next to Tom. "How can I help? What can I do?"
"There is nothing you can do, Avery," said Tom, lazily. "Unless you have information as to how I could find Gellert Grindelwald…"
"Grindelwald?" repeated Avery. "Why do you wish to seek him, my lord?"
"Reasons," replied Tom.
Avery thought for a moment and then leaned closer to Tom.
"I'm not sure if this will be of any help, but I read somewhere that Grindelwald met Dumbledore in Godric's Hollow, where he was staying with the old historian Bathilda Bagshot."
"Yes, I know that, Avery," said Tom, heaving a deep sigh.
"Well, perhaps interrogating her would be a start," suggested Avery.
Tom frowned into the fireplace and nodded slowly. Bathilda Bagshot. The name was familiar, but where from? He couldn't quite put his finger on it.
"Thank you, Avery," he said as he rose to his feet and retreated to bed.
"My lord!" said Nott just before Tom disappeared at the top of the stairs.
Tom turned around to look at him.
"Xenophilius Lovegood is the editor in chief of the Quibbler," he said, nervously. "W-what shall we do with him?"
"Kill him," said Tom simply. "Find him and kill him."
"But…my lord, with all due respect…wouldn't that be too easy?"
"Death is the worst punishment, Nott."
"Still…shouldn't we m-maybe do something w-worse?"
"Like?"
"I was hoping you'd be able to come up with something…you…you have a great imagination in that sense, my lord."
Tom smiled. He thought for a moment, and then turned to Narcissa.
"He has any children?" he asked her.
"Y-yes, my lord," she said, confused. "A daughter in Draco's year I think...or perhaps a year younger."
"Good," said Tom, turning his back to them. "Kidnap her."
He was back in the orphanage. Mrs. Cole and Billy and the others were laughing about something in the dining room. Tom was in second year. He had just returned from Hogwarts and was stuck in his little basement room, holding his Hogwarts letter in his little hands. He looked like his muggle father again. He was young again, but he also had his memories intact…his entire life stored in his brain. He got up and began to pace around the room. This was another dream, wasn't it? Yes. He was sure of it. Any minute now, his Death Eaters' childish forms would appear before him and would start singing and dancing again, and yell that he'd ruined all of their lives. The dead forms of all his victims would appear before his eyes. As usual. How many times had he already had this dream? Three? Four?
Tom stopped before the mirror and glared at his young reflection. It was disgusting. After all the magical transformations that he'd undergone, he still remembered what he'd originally looked like, and the thought of it was still sickening to this day.
A strange force began to pull at Tom. He felt as though he was forcefully being dragged out of his dream. However, just before the peak—seconds before he felt himself vanish—he spotted the thing that he had come back there for. An old, dusty, thick book was on the floor by his old bed…a book that he had taken interest in very early on. He looked down at it, smiled broadly, and then disappeared, waking in his other bed in Malfoy Manor.
Nagini slithered over on to him to see what had happened because Tom was sweating again. But he only smiled at her. Hogwarts: A History had been written by Bathilda Bagshot. That was where he knew her from. And it was most definitely a useful piece of literature. He felt sure now that she would be useful to him once he tracked her down.
Tom turned to Nagini and stroked her.
"I have a job for you, my sweetheart."
Note: There. Two updates in one weekend. Enjoy.
Oh, and about next week's update, I'll tell you this much: the entire chapter is a conversation in Parseltongue ;)
A question for you guys; do you think Tom and Grindelwald would have been even more dangerous as a team? Would the Wizarding World be in total trouble if they were born into the same generation and worked together?
