Chapter Three

The Serpent in Eden

"The wide world is all about you: you can fence yourselves in, but you cannot forever fence it out."

-J. R. R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Summer, 1962

Bellatrix Black loved her little sister Andromeda, but the girl would get so worked up over things. At the moment, it was an article she was reading in the Daily Prophet that was causing her increasing ire.

Finally, Andy rolled her eyes, slammed down the paper, and exclaimed, "It's called a TELEPHONE, you moron!"

Bella raised a curious eyebrow. Their father laughed, knowingly.

"You've been reading the interview with Weasley, I see. Hard to believe he's a cousin of ours."

"Who," Bella asked, "is this Weasley, Father?"

"A muggle lover. His son, Arthur, goes to Hogwarts. A Gryffindor, naturally."

Bella made a distasteful face, and asked, "If he's such a muggle lover, why doesn't he know the word 'telephone?'"

"Because, it's easy to be a muggle lover when you have never actually met them."

Cygnus Black loved his three daughters. He'd wanted at least one son to be his heir, but after three years of attempts, and three girls, he gave up. His older sister now had two sons, but... Cygnus considered himself the blessed one. Walburga had inherited the old family home in London, sure, but Cygnus's estate was a far, far better place to live, and raise a family. It was in the country, hidden away from muggles, and with enough protective spells to keep anyone from just wandering onto the property. He'd named it Eden, as it was his family's private paradise, with hills, a beautifully, and magically, clear pond for swimming, trails for them to ride their horses, and surrounded by forest, except for the entrance. They were close enough to town to where the girls could purchase that muggle rock'n'roll music they'd come to love. They were especially enthused over some new group called "The Beatles", of all things. Cygnus didn't try to understand, but he indulged his girls. Some, he realized, would frown on his allowing them to know and interact with the muggle world. But, he felt, they needed to truly know the world if they were going to be able to survive and thrive in it. His girls weren't going to be as ignorant of the realities of the world as the Weasleys and their ilk. He'd made certain that the Daily Prophet and the WWN weren't their only source of news, subscribing to muggle newspapers and having them listen to muggle news broadcasts. So, they knew of the growing threat to their way of life. They knew of the constant bloody wars all over the globe. They knew of the explosive civil unrest. They knew that the muggles had developed weapons capable of destroying all of humanity, including Wizardkind, and were poised to use them. No longer were the muggles a threat only to themselves.

There was also their influence on the Wizarding culture, itself. This wasn't as big a problem in other parts of the world, but in Britain, the sterile Calvinist influence had taken hold, especially with the current Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. Cygnus understood. Dumbledore was an old Victorian, after all, and his experiences with Grindelwald had made him rather reactionary when it came to what was called the Dark Arts. It all came down, Cygnus thought, to the Original Sin doctrine, used by the muggle rulers for centuries to keep the population under thumb by making them believe their existence was a crime against the Universe. Well, he thought, there'd be no Original Sin in Eden.

Where Cygnus felt especially blessed was with his wife, Druella, formerly Rosier, beautiful, smart, and strong. In a culture where marriage was based less on romance and more on the proper family matches, he'd been very lucky. He'd once joked that if he'd been stuck with a woman like his sister, he'd be in prison for murdering his wife. Bella replied that she'd be in Azkaban for matricide, if that had been the case. Cygnus sometimes had the uncomfortable feeling his oldest daughter wasn't joking. Bella had a mean streak.

Cygnus sometimes wondered if his two older girls knew, on some level, that he'd desired a son, as they both, each in their own way, seemed to try to be sons. Perhaps they just took after him, as he'd named them traditional Black family names, while their youngest, Narcissa, who was the image of her mother, was named a traditional Rosier name. Names, as Cygnus knew, had power, were incantations in their own right. Bellatrix was a scrapper, always looking for a new adventure. Andromeda could often be in her own galaxy, deep in thought. She seemed to absorb knowledge like a sponge. Andy was also a tomboy, she and Lucius Malfoy being best mates. Druella had wanted Andy to be more feminine around the Malfoys, as the Blacks and Malfoys were already considering their children as a possible future match, but Cygnus liked their relationship. Friendship could, when they were older, build into something more, after all. Lucius loved his visits to Eden, and Cygnus, having been to Malfoy Manor, understood why. The place was luxurious, but felt like a museum. Here, Lucius could be truly free. Narcissa, meanwhile, was the vainest seven year old on the planet, their little princess.

Besides, Andy was a Metamorphmagus. She couldn't help but indulge in her masculine side, every now and then.

Now, though, Cygnus had to prepare for his girls' education. He and Druella had already taught them much, but they needed a tutor. There were things they didn't teach at Hogwarts. Of course, lately they'd hadn't even been able to teach some of the subjects they did offer properly, with the inability to keep a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher in recent years. He'd thought finding a proper tutor would be difficult, until Druella came to him with something that was almost providential. Her brother was a member of the Knights of Walpurgis, and the Order's Master was offering his services. He was, Cygnus knew, an expert on the subjects he wanted his daughters to learn, and had sought to teach at Hogwarts, but Dumbledore wouldn't allow him due to personal and philosophical differences.

It had been a typical Summer afternoon for the Black sisters in Eden. They'd just finished a swim in the pond, and were now climbing Eden's hills. They'd have to dress and return to the house soon, as they were to meet their new tutor.

"Keep up, Cissy!" Bella yelled behind her, as she and Andy reached the hilltop.

Cissy huffed, "I'm not as big as you two, you know."

Andy felt sympathy for Cissy. Andy was a natural climber, and, since Bella wasn't going to allow herself to be outdone by her little sister in anything, she'd learned to be. They looked over the view.

"It's beautiful, up here," Bella said.

"I know," Andy replied. "It's like we're goddesses watching over our dominion."

"What?" Bella snorted. "I swear, Andy, you read too much mythology."

She was right, though, Bella thought. She did feel like a goddess in moments like these, a part of nature, and it's ruler.

"Can you believe," Andy asked, "that muggles even cover themselves when they swim?"

"Why?" Cissy asked.

"They're taught shame. Of everything. Even their own bodies."

"That's so silly," Cissy said with disbelief.

Bella smirked, the Patented Black Smirk, and said, "Well, they obviously have a lot to be ashamed of, don't they? That's why they're out there and we're in Eden."

Tom Riddle had learned some of his most important life lessons early.

He'd spent the first decade of his life in poverty, an orphan. The older kids were cruel, in that naive way only children can be. He had to develop the strength and will to survive them. Yes, the world was Dog Eat Dog, and he'd have to be the most vicious dog in the yard. Then, he discovered something about himself.

He was different. He could do things others couldn't. He discovered the power within himself, the power to make things happen, the power to control. One was either hammer or anvil, and now he would most definitely be the hammer.

He wondered what this power was, where it came from. He wondered who his parents were. He'd concocted all sorts of fantasies. Maybe his origins were of another world. Maybe he was the lost child of gods. Whatever he was and wherever he came from, he knew one thing for certain, that he had a great destiny. Still, there was so much to learn. He read everything he could get his hands on, absorbing all the knowledge he could find, but it wasn't enough. He needed to find others like him. He needed a teacher. He'd once read that when the student is ready, the teacher would come, but that was ridiculous. Or, so he thought, until the day Albus Dumbledore arrived at the orphanage.

Tom learned he was a wizard. Further, he learned that wizards had their own culture, away from this common rabble, called muggles. And, there was a school where he could learn how to utilize his gifts. When he arrived at Hogwarts, he felt as though he had truly come home.

Even now, after everything, that's how he still felt about Hogwarts.

He sought out anything he could find about his family. What he learned proved to be another disillusionment, but he was used to those. His mother had been a descendant of the great Salazar Slytherin, but her family had frittered away their heritage. Now, he was the last of Slytherin's line. His father, he learned, was a wealthy muggle who'd abandoned his wife and unborn child, who had left him in that sorry state he was born into. He would one day find his father, and teach him about his betters. Of course, he'd also learned that, while a superior breed, wizards were, in so many ways, as weak and foolish as the muggles. He now knew his destiny, why he was put on this Earth.

He would change things. He'd become quite disenchanted with his old mentor. Dumbledore, for all his knowledge, was a fool. There was no good and evil, only power and those too weak to seek it. He sought, suffered setbacks, learned. He gained like minded followers. He understood the power of names, and altered his own. He then returned home, to Hogwarts, as Lord Voldemort.

He discovered he wasn't welcome. He'd returned to teach, to shape young minds, but Dumbledore didn't want them to learn what he had to teach.

Still, he spent his life overcoming setbacks. He'd still teach, shape young minds and souls, as there were many parents who wanted their children to learn what Hogwarts didn't offer. The Knights of Walpugis had connections, influence with family and friends. Professor Slughorn had taught him the importance of connecting with the right people, and Rosier's nieces would be the cream of the crop. By the time they started Hogwarts in a few years, they'd not only know things most of their peers would not, but they'd be his.

Eden had a beautiful garden, where he met the Black sisters.

He'd been told about them, already, but being a Legilimens, he could see into their minds, hearts, and souls. Bellatrix always had to be doing something, and wanted her life to have meaning. Andromeda wanted to learn all that she could, a familiar desire to the Dark Lord. Narcissa simply wanted the power she assumed was rightfully hers. Yes, they were perfect.

He told them a bit about himself, his travels and adventures, leaving certain details out, of course. Bella was enraptured. He told them what he would teach them, the power that the Ministry sought to keep from them, what was rightfully theirs. This got Cissy's undivided attention. Andy, though, looked skeptical. He looked again into her thoughts. She was wondering what this guy who was so pretentious to call himself "Lord Voldemort" could teach her that she couldn't learn on her own. Eight years old and already a cynic. He smiled, as she reminded him, once again, of himself at that age. He'd have to take special care with her. He'd have to win her mind.

"Is there something you'd like to ask me, Andromeda?"

Andy paused.

"Ask me anything," he added.

"OK, why do you call yourself Lord Voldemort?"

Cissy gasped. Bella looked at Andy reproachfully. The girl did not know how to behave around authority figures.

"I'm glad you asked. My birth name was Tom Marvolo Riddle."

He cast a spell, and the name appeared in fiery letters in the air.

"What can you tell me about Egyptian hieroglyphs?" he asked, knowing from her parents that ancient Egyptian magic was of special interest to her.

"The symbols possessed power, and writing with them created powerful spells. It's the basis for all that we do."

"Exactly. And, do you know how the ancient Hebrews used letters and numbers?"

"They codified it into an almost perfect magical system. Their name for their God, Yahweh, was made up of four letters that represented each of the four elements. So, their God was all of Creation, because everything was made up of the elements. They went on to build a whole magical system based on numbers and letters."

"Yes. You see, letters, numbers, words, they all have power. They're symbols, a code, if you will, representing thoughts and concepts. We very rarely communicate directly with each other, but communicate through these symbols. The mind possesses far more power than most know. We, the magical breed, can channel that power, in a way that the muggles can't. But, we still use these symbols to do it. Most of our kind have been using these incantations for so long they've taken them for granted. They don't seek to learn how it all works, to break down the elements and understand them, to master them, to create new possibilities with them. You are different."

"Yes..."

"You seek to unlock the secrets of the Universe. You seek to take that knowledge and create."

"Yes."

"You asked why I took the name Lord Voldemort. It happens that I am the last living descendant of Salazar Slytherin. Unfortunately, my more immediate ancestors never truly understood the responsibility of their heritage. I carried the name of my father and grandfather, and thus my birth name represented their failures. But... Anagrams always fascinated me. I could rearrange the letters and completely change their meaning, and therefore what they represented. Thus..."

He waved his wand, again, and the letters of the name shifted, now spelling out, "I am Lord Voldemort".

"Roughly, this translates to conquest of what we all fear, Death. This transformation of symbols allowed me to begin to transform myself into the conqueror of Death, it's master."

Yes, he had her full interest, now.

"We live in a world where the mind is undervalued. So few, even among our own kind, actually think."

Ah, that hit.

"But, again, you are different. Let's look at your name, and what it represents. You feel chained by this world." He paused, letting that set in. "It is within you to break those chains, to not live by the limitations they would force upon you. You can unlock the secrets of Creation, be the Creator, reshape the world, to be the Ruler of Men that is your name. It is all within you. I will teach you."

"Yes."

Lord Voldemort was pleased. They were his, his unholy trinity.