Full Summary:
In the closing years of World War II, Grindelwald's support grows as he continues his pursuit of pureblood supremacy. Amidst this background, Tom Riddle's final years at Hogwarts take an unexpected turn with the arrival of Ada Burke.
Raised in a realm of ancient objects and cursed relics, Ada carries a secret that fuels Tom's insatiable hunger for ultimate power.
Together, they embark on a dangerous journey, blurring the line between light and darkness even further. Will their path lead to redemption or the
Chapter 1: Unwanted Companions
August 17th, 1943
It was a windy August night, and rain cascaded down the windowpane of the ancient shack. Two figures in somber robes stood within the desolate sitting room, each as silent as the grave, avoiding eye contact. They waited.
The tension in the room hung thick as the storm outside. Minutes stretched into an abyss, and neither knew how long they'd been there or how much longer they were to remain. They stole furtive glances at each other, anxiety etched into their features.
Then, a deafening siren pierced the air, its wailing cry sending shivers down their spines. Their eyes met, conveying a shared realization.
"This was a bad idea," muttered the red-haired man, peering out into the starless sky through the rain-streaked window. Restlessness gripped him, as he fidgeted around the small room. "I won't meet my end at the hands of Muggle bombs."
"You can't leave now. We agreed to wait," said the other, a tall and lanky man. Yet, beneath his words, concern lurked in his eyes too.
As they spoke, a soft poof was heard in the adjacent room. Without hesitation, they strode towards the double doors, flinging them open in haste. In the corner by the fireplace, two more figures stood—a bald man with a grizzled beard, piercing dark blue eyes, and a jagged scar bisecting his cheek; the other was a teenage girl with a braided mane of dark brown hair, her face concealed beneath a military cap as she stared at the floor. Both were clad in tattered, grimy Schutzstaffel uniforms.
"What games are you playing, Burke, bringing a child here? We were clear—no companions!"
The old man's expression hardened, but his voice was almost pleading. "I couldn't leave her behind. You must understand..." He reached into his coat, producing a small black pouch. "Please, you have no idea what I had to do to acquire this," he extended the enigmatic pouch towards them.
The two men regarded it with a mix of awe and trepidation. "Is it really…?" the redhead murmured, inching closer, only to be halted by a stern warning from the older man. "We had a deal, Krafft," he said and retracted his offering.
Krafft, the red-haired one, growled in response, his right hand slipping beneath his robes, but his taller companion intervened, placing a restraining hand on his arm. He fixed a menacing glare on Krafft before stepping forward with deliberate, controlled strides.
"Seager, my old friend," he greeted the elder man with a fake smile gracing his gaunt face. "You know we always honor our pacts." With a wave of his wand, he conjured a parchment bearing a crimson seal and levitated it toward the peculiar pair. "Now hand us the relic, and we will all be on our merry way out of this hellish place."
Outside, the siren continued its relentless cry, a constant reminder of imminent danger. Yet, Seager Burke remained uncertain until he took the parchment in trembling hands, his expression shifting drastically. Hope flickered in his eyes.
"All is forgiven... Now hand it over," the tall man asserted firmly.
A loud bang echoed in the distance, and the ground trembled beneath their feet.
"Jävlar!" Krafft exclaimed, panic gripping him as he turned to his companion. "We must leave, Abernathy. This is madness!" He brandished his wand and pointed it menacingly at the young girl who kept her eyes lowered. "Give us the relic now, Burke, or she'll pay the price."
Another bang, followed by a tremor, intensified the urgency.
Seager instinctively shielded the girl, his wand ready for action. "This is the last time, Abernathy," he said, finally levitating the black pouch toward them. Another bang was heard in the distance, followed by a nearby puff as the enigmatic duo vanished from the scene.
…….
September 1st, 1943
Ada studied her pale reflection in the ornate giltwood mirror that adorned the wall. Her brown curls were neatly fastened with a crimson ribbon bow, and her robes hung impeccably over her pressed uniform. Yet, despite her efforts to look normal, a sense of dissatisfaction lingered.
"This is futile," she sighed, her voice filled with frustration.
"You look lovely, Ada. Everything will be alright," a smaller girl, with even darker locks, appeared beside her on the mirror's frame. She offered a timid smile. "Now, let's be on our way. We mustn't be late." The smaller girl seized her trunk and ventured out of their shared bedroom, leaving Ada with no choice but to follow suit.
Awaiting them in the hall adjacent to the front door were Ada's aunt, uncle, and younger cousin. She had been living with her extended family for a month. They had been polite and kind to her, particularly her aunt, who had taken it upon herself to feed her vigorously since her arrival, scrutinizing her frail figure with deep concern.
Ada recalled the woman's hushed tones as she talked to her uncle and father during that first night, their discussions lasting into the early hours of dawn. Her aunt had served her a warm bowl of soup and sent her upstairs to shield the girl from the discussion. Afterward, her father had gently knocked on her cousin's door, bade his farewells, and reminded her to behave. Ada wanted to protest, to implore him to take her along. It was infuriating that after everything they had endured, he still regarded her as a child. Yet, she had remained silent and motionless, scarcely blinking as he embraced her and departed. He had abandoned her.
Now a family of five, the Burkes arrived via Portkey at King's Cross station, a mere ten minutes prior to the scheduled departure of the train. The platform teemed with people, and Ada cast an anxious glance at the colossal scarlet machinery before her. Her previous experiences with steam locomotives had been far from pleasant, to say the least. She attempted to push those memories aside as she wheeled her trunk alongside her two cousins after bidding farewell to their parents.
"Why would a wizarding school employ a Muggle mode of transportation for its students?" Ada intended to ask Marie, but the voices around them drowned out her words.
Suddenly, Marie emitted a delighted squeal upon spotting two girls that were standing by the boarding door of the second wagon. She completely forgot about her luggage, which promptly tumbled to the ground as she rushed toward them.
"Marie!" exclaimed the two girls in unison, enveloping her in a group hug. Ada observed that they bore a striking resemblance to each other, almost identical in appearance —tall and fair, with lustrous blonde hair and emerald eyes, the primary distinction lay in one's stylish, pageboy haircut and the other's untamed, flowing locks.
Ada directed a puzzled gaze at her younger cousin, Leopold, a pale twelve-year-old boy with light brown hair. "They are Marie's closest friends, obviously," he quipped with a roll of his eyes. "Isadora and Cordelia Malfoy."
Ada nodded, and tried to memorize their names as she watched as the three girls talk and laugh. They were all suddenly startled by the shrill whistle of the steam engine, announcing the train's imminent departure.
"Oh, heavens!" Marie exclaimed, casting a quick glance at her brother and cousin, who had been forgotten in her haste. "Let's board quickly before we're left behind. We don't want a repeat of last year's incident..." She directed a meaningful glance at Leopold.
"What happened last year?" Ada asked him as they boarded the train, the corridor emanating warmth.
"We missed the train because Marie and her friends couldn't stop gossiping outside the station," Leopold explained, his tone laced with annoyance. "Our parents had to take us to the Ministry so they could open a case and request a direct Floo connection to the school. It took hours to sort out the paperwork. We missed the Sorting Ceremony and the Feast. Need I mention it was my first year?" he added, sending daggers with his eyes at the girls in question.
"Oh, cheer up, little Leo," one of the Malfoy girls teased. "You missed nothing worthwhile. Wasn't it better to be sorted privately than in front of everyone, particularly considering you ended up in Ravenclaw?" she said, her words dripping with sarcasm.
Leopold appeared flustered, but before he could retort, Marie intervened. "Leo, you should seek out your friends. We will meet up later," she said with a pointed glare as she opened the compartment's door to her right, signaling for the others to enter. Leopold continued to scowl at the Malfoy girl but ultimately collected his belongings and proceeded down the corridor, pausing to inspect each compartment, presumably in search of his friends, as Marie had instructed.
"Ada, please enter," Marie said impatiently, and Ada realized she had been left behind, her gaze lingering on her young cousin with concern. She finally entered the compartment, placing her suitcase on the luggage rack above the window seat she claimed.
The two blonde girls observed her curiously. Ada offered a faint smile, but it went unnoticed. "Marie dear, who is this?" The girl with long hair asked.
"This is my cousin, Ada," Marie explained, taking a seat beside her. "I mentioned her in my letters."
"Oh, right, the long-forgotten cousin from Eastern Europe..." commented the other blonde with intrigue.
"I was, in fact, born in Cornwall and mostly lived there until I was ten," Ada corrected with a determined tone, feeling slightly uncomfortable as they discussed her as though she weren't present.
"Why did you leave? Did you not fancy it here?"
"Did you attend another school?"
"Is it true that your parents are tomb raiders?"
The barrage of questions left Ada momentarily stunned. Marie, sensing her discomfort, intervened. "Girls, don't be rude," she chided gently. "I haven't even introduced Ada properly. This is Isadora," she gestured to the long-haired witch, who straightened her posture, exuding an air of superiority. "And this is Cordelia," she motioned to the other girl with the pageboy haircut, who surprisingly greeted her warmly.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ada," Cordelia said with real kindness. "Forgive us; it's not every day we encounter a new student, especially one with such an intriguing background."
"It is quite alright," Ada replied with a reciprocal smile. "I understand it is unusual. My father homeschooled me until now, as we traveled extensively, which made attending school impossible. My father is an antiquarian… and my mother was a curse breaker."
"Sounds utterly fascinating!" Cordelia said, while Isadora remained unconvinced.
"But why are you enrolling in Hogwarts now, as a sixth-year? It seems rather pointless," Isadora's green eyes bore into Ada, who felt anxious and averted her gaze, struggling to recollect the story she had rehearsed with her father during their journey back to England.
"Well, I won't come of age until March next year, and my father wanted me to take my N.E.W.T. exams at Hogwarts, just as he did, rather than at a foreign Ministry abroad."
Isadora's gaze remained skeptical, but she refrained from pressing further. The remainder of the journey went by uneventfully. Marie and the Malfoy girls engaged in conversation, discussing people Ada knew nothing about. She succumbed to a daydream, gazing out the window. Her thoughts drifted to her father, pondering his whereabouts and safety. She also contemplated trying to fit into her new school. Ada had never been surrounded by so many young people, and she worried about social conventions she might not be aware of. Soon, the city changed into the countryside, and as the sun dipped behind the Scottish Highlands, they approached their destination.
…….
"First-years, please keep to your left and form a queue. Ogg will escort you to the boats."
Outright boredom.
Tom Riddle's face displayed a polite smile, the result of years of dedicated practice in maintaining this charming façade he presented every day. None could fathom his true sentiments as he ushered the youngest students through their initial confusion and disorientation upon their arrival at Hogwarts.
With impeccable posture and inviting gestures, Tom moved with a flawless grace, making him stand out amidst the crowd. His open hands were gesturing toward the haggard groundskeeper, who, in stark contrast, appeared thoroughly exasperated. A brief glance exchanged between them revealed the weariness etched into the old man's features as he awaited the children to assemble before him. Tom could almost empathize, imagining the monotony of repeating this task year after year. He himself had become a Prefect just last term, and while he valued the privileges of such a position, he despised the mundane responsibilities that came with it.
Emerging from one of the passenger cars and striding purposefully toward him, Tom noticed Maureen Williams, the Ravenclaw prefect from his year.
"Riddle," she greeted him, securing her ponytail and smoothing the wrinkles on her house robes. "Susan asked me to assist you in gathering the first-years."
"No need," he replied dismissively. "I can manage on my own."
"She's the Head Girl," Maureen persisted, her gaze sharpening slightly, a subtle, almost imperceptible tug at the corners of her lips. Tom recognized the smugness in her demeanor, and he yearned to wipe that shadow of a smirk from her face.
That fact was that Maureen had adopted a more reserved attitude toward him since the Warren incident the previous year. It had been impossible not to notice her avoidance, but this year, she had returned with a newfound assertiveness. Tom found it infuriating because it could only imply that she suspected something. The only other person who treated him similarly was Dumbledore, but that was to be expected since the professor had always regarded him with cold indifference, even before Warren. Maureen, on the other hand, was just a foolish girl. It was preposterous for her to entertain such notions... and yet, Tom couldn't help but wonder.
Tom smiled kindly at her, but his eyes conveyed a different message. "As you wish, Miss Williams."
Turning his back on her, he walked toward the motley lineup of first-year students, counting their heads methodically. After he and Maureen ensured that all were present, he proceeded toward the open path leading out of Hogsmeade Station.
Tom found his Slytherin entourage gathered near one of the carriages, waiting dutifully for him. Everyone except Lestrange...
He strode purposefully before the group of boys, embarking on the carriage first, his lips drawn tight and his demeanor austere. The others followed suit with haste.
Seated with his back to the Thestrals, Tom was determined to avoid any thought of them. He had first encountered the creatures at the end of the previous term when he had departed from the castle. While he had always been aware of their existence, their appearance still unsettled him deeply. They were grotesque in the extreme, and when he gazed into their pupil-less eyes, an inexplicable pain welled within him. Tom couldn't pinpoint the exact source of his discomfort, but the creatures certainly unnerved him.
"Have you heard about the new girl?" Silas Dolohov broke the silence, addressing no one in particular.
Tom retrieved the satchel he had placed by his feet and extracted his copy of Fifteenth-Century Fiends, deciding to forgo the trivial conversation that was about to ensue.
"Her name is Adelaide Burke... Marie's cousin and Caractacus' niece." Victor Rosier replied, excitement lacing his voice. "I spoke to Borgin on the train, and he mentioned her father is wanted by the Ministry. Word has it he was closely associated with Grindelwald a few years back..." Tom, at the mention of the dark wizard, raised his gaze from his book, observing that all eyes were now fixed on Victor, who reveled in the attention. "Her mother, Zelda, belonged to the Velent family in Germany. If my sources are accurate, the Velents had direct ties to the Nazi Party's dealings with Grindelwald..."
"Those are mere rumors, Rosier!" Edmund Nott interjected, rolling his eyes. "There's no concrete evidence linking Grindelwald to the Muggle war. It's all baseless conjecture."
"But it makes sense!" Rosier countered. "Think about it, Grindelwald is causing considerable unrest in the Wizarding World by exploiting the chaos of the Muggle war. Those who were on the fence about him are now turning against Muggles due to the turmoil."
"I simply can't fathom Grindelwald engaging with Muggles, let alone strike a pact with their ridiculous governments." Nott asserted. "It's absurd."
"You're being so thick. Grindelwald is merely feigning an agreement; he's manipulating them, don't you see?!"
What began as idle gossip had escalated into a heated dispute between Rosier and Nott, their voices rising with every exchange, and Tom found his interest waning once more. He wished Lestrange were present to handle the situation, so that he wouldn't have to. Yet, Tom had barely seen the boy during the train journey, as he had quickly departed with some flimsy excuse about helping his nephew locate a lost pet. Had Tom not been required in the prefect compartment, he would have pursued the matter further to uncover Lestrange's hidden agenda.
With a swift, impatient motion, he closed his book. "Enough," he said, raising his voice sufficiently to quell the two bickering boys.
Tom pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned impatiently. The two young men immediately fell silent, casting concerned glances in his direction, while Silas, who had been a passive spectator, shifted away from the confrontation. "We've yet to reach the castle, and you're already testing my patience. I couldn't care less about this nonsense you're discussing, and I'd appreciate some peace and tranquility before I'm obligated to go back to my prefect duties."
"Yes, my lord." "Apologies, my lord." They said in unison, calling him by the new title Tom had demanded last year, after he had proven his heritage.
As the carriage settled into silence once more, Tom reopened his book, but soon found his mind too distracted, his thoughts drifting away from the text.
War was a topic he perpetually sought to avoid, yet it loomed everywhere. London had suffered through years of war, and its impact had been all too real when he went back to the orphanage each summer. Although Tom had been fortunate enough to miss the Blitz, as it occurred during his third year, he had found the orphanage in ruins upon his return at the end of June 1941. The entire city was crumbling. People were sick and frightened, and many of the younger children had disappeared; relocated to the countryside, Mrs. Cole had informed him, and Tom briefly wondered if he would have suffered the same fate had he missed the Hogwarts Express the previous September. None of those children had returned, and yet resources were perpetually scarce. Wool's had never been an epitome of abundance, but Tom had always counted on a warm meal and clean clothing. That had changed last summer.
And now, the British wizarding community was grappling with the fear that Grindelwald would soon turn his attention to England. Some even welcomed the prospect.
While Tom didn't entirely disagree with Grindelwald's anti-Muggle stance, he believed that the dark wizard's approach was futile, and that such a war would also lead to the destruction of wizarding communities. Grindelwald aspired to establish a new world order where wizards and witches would oversee Muggles, but the notion was absurd. Painful as it was for him to admit, Tom couldn't deny that Muggles were not entirely inept. They had developed powerful weaponry and displayed unwavering resilience. The recent years were irrefutable proof of this. Tom couldn't envision someone like Winston Churchill bowing to his new magical overlords after everything the country had endured in the ongoing war with Germany.
Nonetheless, the dark wizard raised valid concerns. The Statute of Secrecy was a disgrace, and each year, the International Confederation of Wizards imposed more restrictive regulations on their way of life. Change was indeed warranted; there was no denying that.
Deep in thought, Tom was abruptly startled when the carriage came to a halt. They had finally arrived.
