Chapter 110 Devil Inside

Hermione boarded the spinning staircase behind Harry as it spun toward the headmaster's office. After knocking twice, the door opened to admit them in.

"Good evening, Harry, Miss Granger," Dumbledore welcomed them with a smile. "Have a seat."

They entered and took a pair of seats next to Flitwick whose eyes keenly observed the other three occupants.

"Tonight, we are going to look at something different altogether," Dumbledore said. "You are both exploring your own cores. I can tell whenever you enter a room that your magic is more alive. How are you feeling?"

"Good, sir," Hermione said. "My spells are coming quicker and I can chain a lot quicker than I used to."

"Indeed," Flitwick said. "We dueled the other day and you are close to being able to beat me one-on-one. Last year, you both still struggled to battle me together. If I didn't know the source, I would have thought you underwent a ritual. And Mr. Potter, you actually beat me."

"Did you really?" Dumbledore asked with pleased astonishment. "To best a former dueling champion is no small feat, Harry."

"I got lucky," Harry said. "I got him to step on a conjured rug which I animated to tie up his legs and it gave me an opening to disarm him."

"There was nothing lucky about it, Potter," Flitwick said. "You conjured the rug right as I stepped on the spot and animated it all in one wand chain. You have grown considerably in a short period."

"As I expected, considering how much of your magic was restrained by Tom's soul shard," Dumbledore said. "But that is not what I called you here to talk about today. Tonight, we will be spending the evening in a sea of memories."

"Memories? Whose?" Harry asked skeptically wondering what good this would be.

"A few people, some of whom you might recognize, and others who you likely will not," Dumbledore said. "However, they all pertain to one specific person."

"Tom," Harry said. "You're showing us memories of Tom. Why?"

"If you know your enemy and you know yourself, you need not fear the result of the coming battles," Dumbledore quoted.

"Sun Tzu," Hermione said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Quite right, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said. "I intend to give you every weapon to defeat Tom and the key to stopping him is to know him; know just how he became the monster he is today. I hope you all are ready for a long night because we have much to cover."

Dumbledore picked up the first vial and dumped it into the basin.

"Follow me," Dumbledore said as he dipped a finger into the basin and was subsequently pulled inward.

As one, the three other occupants in the room touched the liquid and felt themselves pulled down into the scene below. Harry's eyes adjusted to going from Dumbledore's dark office to an open path at midday with the sun beating down. The sound of footsteps drew his attention. The group of four parted as a portly man who looked a little like Cornelius Fudge, sauntered down the path. His badge identified him as a worker for the Ministry of Magic.

"That is Bob Ogden," Dumbledore said.

Ogden whistled a jaunty tune as he sauntered down the path, pausing occasionally to wipe the sweat from his brow. He paused, surreptitiously looked around and, after seeing he was alone, pulled his wand. A few twitches and swirls later, he ducked between two overgrown bushes and onto a new path that Harry swore wasn't there before. Following in his wake, they spotted Ogden approaching a shack that was little more than a hovel.

Ogden's face contorted into a look of revulsion at the dead snake nailed to the door. The look vanished as Harry could see the man's face harden. Just as he raised his fist to knock, the door opened with a wand shoved in his face.

"Who are you?" A mop of dirty grey hair shouted from behind the wand which, Harry could see was old and ill-maintained. There were cracks all along the old wood and little bits of unicorn hair were poking through. Harry, remembering Lockhart's wand, involuntarily stepped back.

"I am Robert Ogden," Bob identified himself. "I am with the Ministry of Magic."

"Ministry," the man spat on the ground at Bob's feed. "What do we need with a ministry? No ministry ever helped me."

"I am here," Ogden continued as if he didn't hear the man. "To investigate charges of muggle baiting, assault on a muggle, and a possible breach of the Statute of Secrecy."

"Bloody Statute," the old man grumbled. "We don't need that. Muggles need to know who we are. They need to bow down to those who know better."

Hermione snorted at a man in a shack saying that compared to the affluent muggle village behind them.

"Are you Marvolo Gaunt?" Bob asked, as his hand discretely palmed his wand.

Hermoine gasped and repeatedly tapped Harry on the arm. Harry nodded to tell her she noticed the same thing.

"~What do they want," a hissing voice came from inside the Shack.

"~Shut up. Let me handle this,~" the old man hissed as he snapped his head toward the interior of the abode.

"Can hear them, Harry?" Dumbledore asked Harry.

"I can, yes," Harry replied.

"I thought you might," Dumbledore said. "Good to know you still can speak Parseltongue."

"Mister Marvolo," Ogden began.

"Lord," Marvolo growled. "You will address me with proper respect."

"Lord Gaunt," Ogden said though everyone else could hear the derision in it. "I must speak with the accused. Where is your son? Where is Morfin?"

"What's he to you?" Marvolo asked, his hand tightening on his wand.

"He is a person of interest," Ogden said. "We have a report of a wizard who attacked a muggle in the village the other day. The wizard tied him up and threatened to use magic to strangle him with his own entrails. Took us quite a bit of work obliviating everyone. The description matches your son. We talked to a barman of the Troll's Leg, and he confirmed. Now may I speak with him?"

"~Let him in, dad,~" the hissing voice said again. "~The sooner he's in, the sooner he's gone.~"

"Alright," Marvolo said. "Come and talk to the whelp."

As the scene shifted inside, Harry felt like he needed a shower. The house was a single room upon which grim and dirt clung to every surface so thick, Harry could see it from across the room. The windows were caked with so much grime that it suffocated any light that passed through. Three straw beds lay in one corner with two plush chairs and one wooden stool sitting in front of a roaring fireplace. On the far wall was a makeshift kitchen that looked ready to catch fire at any point. In the center of the room, in one of the plush chairs, sat a man with black hair so long, it fell in front of his face, giving him a look of absolute madness. True to his surname, the man looked gaunt and his skin looked sallow with a touch of jaundice.

"~Don't mind them, mind the meal,~" the man hissed at a mousy-looking girl who turned back to the cooking surface which, consisted of a cauldron sitting atop a fire like they would use in potions class. What she cooked, Harry couldn't tell. She just stood in front of the cauldron poking it with a wooden spoon.

"You are Morfin Gaunt?" Ogden asked.

"Aye," Morfin said without looking up.

"Your wand is 8 and a quarter inches, made of elm and dragon heartstring?" Ogden kept going.

"Aye," Morfin pulled his hands out, brandishing his wand in his right hand and a knife in his left. Odgen's grip tightened on his wand.

"We are investigating claims of muggle baiting, muggle assault, and a potential breach of the Statute of Secrecy," Ogden said though Morfin's only reaction was to start laughing.

"~That was fun,~" Morfin hissed.

"That magical signature we detected matches yours," Ogden said.

"So some muggle got hurt, did he?" Marvolo stepped in between Ogden and Morfin. "I'm sure you fixed him up right quick and modified his memory? What's the issue?"

"The issue is your son cursed a muggle with an engorgement charm on his nose and a shrinking charm on his privates," Ogden said. "You're lucky we sorted it out before the Riddles went public. Their son, Tom, is their only child. If this were the wizarding world, what your son did could be considered attempted line theft."

"But it's not our world, is it?" Marvolo advanced on Ogden. "So the bloke got a bigger nose and smaller dick, not that I'm sure it would have made a difference."

"~He was looking at Merope like she was slime, ~" Morfin hissed. "~No matter how my sister fancies him, he's not good enough for her so I decided to make him look the way I see him.~"

Marvolo whipped around and addressed his daughter.

"You sully your name with a filthy muggle?" Marvolo shouted. "Filthy little squib! Who's going to want you now that you've sullied what magic exists in your miserable excuse for a body?"

Marvolo pulled a necklace from her threadbare shirt.

"We are descendants of Slytherin, his last living descendants!" Marvolo shouted as he pushed the gold locket into her face. "You miserable waste of space!

"Not only that, we have Peverell blood!" He brandished a ring with a black stone in the center right in front of her before slapping her. Merope spun and fell, thrusting her arms out to stop her fall. A loud hiss sounded from her hands searing themselves on the lip of the cauldron, knocking the stew to the ground in the process. Merope started crying pitifully as she picked herself up and put the empty pot back on the fire. Ogden was on her before she turned back around.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" Ogden tried not to retch from her smell.

"She's no business of yours," Marvolo said. "I will not have you or anyone else tell me how to raise my family."

"You cannot treat another human like you just did," Ogden said. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to charge you with assault and your son with his crimes. He's looking at 6 months in Azkaban."

Ogden wiped the sweat falling freely from his brow in the sweltering hovel.

"Feeling hot, are ya?" Marvolo got right in Ogden's face. "What's your status? Clearly not a pureblood. Our blood's as pure as it can be, so this doesn't bother us."

Ogden stifled a snort as Morfin was sweating more than either of the two of them. Before he could respond, the sound of a horse-drawn carriage filled the shack. Merope sprinted for the window and stared out at the carriage as it passed.

"Ugh, what an eyesore," the female rider said. "Can't your dad get it knocked down, Tom?"

"No," a handsome dark-haired man said. "Dad's asked to buy the land but can't find who owns it. And every time we approach, a man with a knife threatens us."

"~See how she stares?~" Morfin hissed.

"You whore!" Marvolo said. "All that we've done, taking care of your squib self, giving you a roof and clothes. Do you know what most families would have done? Murdered you. Killed you once they knew you was a squib. But no, we raised you. Kept you pure until Morfin would plant a magical baby inside you. And what do you do? You sully yourself and your family with a muggle. I'll have your hide for this!"

Three things happened in quick succession: Marvolo pulled his wand, Ogden moved to intervene and Morfin charged with his knife in hand. Ogden stumbled backward, falling on his rear just as he bound Morfin and stunned Marvolo all while Merope screamed.

"I think that will do," Dumbledore said as he pulled them out.

"Was that…?" Hermione let the end of her question fall mute.

"Voldemort's mother?" Dumbledore finished with his eyebrows raised. "Yes, it was. Shortly after this event, Marvolo died under some very mysterious circumstances. He made bail and never showed for his trial. When they tracked him down, they found him poisoned to death. Merope was not found at the residence. It was in this same period that Mr. Borgin of Borgin and Burkes, bought a gold necklace with the Slytherin symbol for nine galleons. Nine months later, Merope appeared at the doorstep of an orphanage where she died after giving birth to a boy. She requested he be named Tom Riddle after his father."

"Love Potion?" Flitwick asked.

"That's my guess," Dumbledore said. "She wasn't Tom Sr.'s type, obviously, and she wouldn't have the magical prowess to Imperius him enough for them to conceive. Tom Riddle Senior disappeared from his family for four months and when he came back, his family said he was different, haunted. He never married and never sired a child until the day he died with the rest of his family. The maid found them all dead at the dinner table, the meal half-eaten. A cold case that is still unsolved to this day, at least in the muggle realm. Though Morfin was arrested for the crime and sentenced to life in Azkaban, I found out it was actually Tom who killed his father and his parents and then implanted the memory into Morfin."

Dumbledore shook a memory vial as he spoke. With a sad look, he set the vial down and kept speaking.

It is my suspicion that Merope poisoned Marvolo, stole his necklace, and used the Galleons from the sale to buy the potion supplies to make the Love Potion."

"So, she makes the Love Potion, doses him, gets pregnant," Harry picked up the thread. "Then either she stops dosing him or it runs out. He leaves and she survives just long enough to give birth. Tom is raised in an Orphanage?"

"Which brings us to our next memory," Dumbledore pulled the cork from the memory vial and dropped it into the basin. "My memory, to be exact."

They landed on an alley in London as a much younger Dumbledore walked down the street. Hermione gasped and stopped short at the way Dumbledore was dressed. He had a pinstriped suit with polished wingtip shoes and a wide-brimmed hat.

"Big fan of the Big Bopper?" Harry asked the older Dumbledore.

"I was told that was the fashion at the time," Dumbledore said.

"By who?" Harry asked.

"Charlus Potter," Dumbledore's mouth twitched as he spoke. "Your family's penchant for pranks didn't start with your father, Harry."

"I think it's an improvement," Flitwick chortled as they followed Dumbledore. "It's a little more reserved than your usual robes…. And I like the hat."

The younger Dumbledore came to the end of the block where a ramshackle building stood. It had a yard that was dull, gray, and in serious need of some weeding. As Dumbledore moved past the high-railed fence toward the door, the group looked at the house itself. The façade was black with its windows coated in a layer of grime an inch thick. The younger Dumbledore ducked his head to enter the three-story building.

"Good afternoon," A middle-aged brunette looked up from her desk as Dumbledore entered. "How may I help you?"

"My name is Albus Dumbledore," he said. "Are you Mrs. Cole?"

"Aye, that I am," the woman said, tiredly. She looked worn out with bags underneath her eyes and strands of gray mixed in with the brown of her hair.

"You received my letter regarding one of your residents?" Dumbledore asked.

"Tom Riddle, yes," Mrs. Cole said. "You said something about him being enrolled in your school?"

"That is correct," Dumbledore said. "We think he shows great potential but this will be my first time meeting him. What can you tell me about him?"

Dumbledore casually looked over Mrs. Cole's shoulder as he spoke, his eyes twinkling.

"Tom…?" Mrs. Cole's eyes widened, whether in fright or surprise, they couldn't tell. "He's a… very bright boy. Keeps to himself mostly but he's ahead of the others in their studies. But he doesn't have many friends. The other kids think him… odd."

"Do they bully him?"

"Oh no!" Mrs. Cole looked something between panicked and horrified. "They wouldn't dare!"

"I'm glad to see you take bullying seriously," Dumbledore ventured.

"Oh yes," Mrs. Cole's eye twitched. "We are very stringent on bullying. Though there was…"

Mrs. Cole came up short as her voice left her.

"There was what?" Dumbledore enquired.

"Oh it was nothing," Mrs. Cole's eyes glazed over. "We went on a trip to the coast a while back. Tom got lost with two of our other children. They didn't say anything but the kids were never the same afterward. But that's enough about that; would you like to meet him?"

"Yes that would be nice," Dumbledore stood when Mrs. Cole abruptly stood and walked toward the door.

They walked out the door to her office, up to the top floor of the house. Mrs. Cole knocked on the door.

"Tom?" She said quietly. "There's a Professor Dumbledore here to see you."

She gently nudged the door open to find it empty.

"Odd," she said. "He's usually here. I'll go and find him. When I find him, I'll send him back up."

Dumbledore quietly flicked his wand and Mrs. Cole walked away. Dumbledore moved into the room and stared out the window. He noticed that you could see the front of the school, including the walk-up to the front door.

"She's gone, Tom," Dumbledore said as he turned away from the window. "You can come out now."

When Dumbledore finished turning, a young boy with dark hair and cold, dark eyes sat on the edge of the bed.

"Such an amazing trick, turning invisible," Dumbledore said.

"You don't seem impressed," Tom said as he eyed Dumbledore with an even gaze.

"At Hogwarts, that ability is difficult but not rare," Dumbledore said, watching Tom's face, studying all the changes to his face as he spoke. "Though for someone younger than a sixth year to do it is exceptionally rare."

Harry noticed the proud gleam in Tom's eyes when Dumbledore said the word "rare."

"Though it is considered rude to use it to spy on other people's conversations," Dumbledore said. "Does Mrs. Cole know you watch her?"

Tom's face contorted in a brief look of rage before mellowing back to cold indifference.

"I thought you looked at me in there," Tom said, shrugging off Dumbledore's remonstration. "What's Hogwarts?"

"Hogwarts is a school where you'll learn to use magic," Dumbledore said.

"I can already use magic," Tom said.

"You'll be able to learn more," Dumbledore said. "To control and shape your magic in new ways. There are potions where we create magical concoctions and transfiguration to change one thing into another and charms where you can cast spells."

"Spells?"

"Yes, Tom," Dumbledore said. "But first you'll need a wand."

"Wands aren't real," Tom said. "That's just fairytale stuff."

"Wands are real, Tom," Dumbledore said as he drew his own. "Every witch and wizard gets one. Every wand is unique to them."

"What's yours made of?" Tom asked eagerly.

"At my age?" Dumbledore chuckled lightly. "Who can remember?"

Harry noticed Dumbledore's deflection and how he subtly covered his wand with his other hand. Filing that away for later, he noticed Tom's eyes traveling down toward Dumbledore's hands with a hungry look.

"What can you do with it?" Tom asked, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore's hands.

"This," Dumbledore pointed his wand toward the door and locked it. He quickly turned it to steel and then set his wardrobe on fire. Tom screamed and ran toward the flames but by the time he got there, Dumbledore extinguished them. "Magic offers unparalleled possibilities.

With the flames out, the wardrobe door rattled.

"Is there something in there that shouldn't be, Tom?" Dumbledore asked.

Tom reluctantly stepped back from the wardrobe and the door burst open. Several items flew out and landed on the bed.

"At Hogwarts, we take stealing very seriously, Tom," Dumbledore lectured the boy. "We have magic that can tell when an item has been stolen and should you be found with anything that does not belong to you, it will have serious consequences including possible expulsion. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Tom looked sufficiently cowed. "Am I still being admitted?"

"As long as you give those items back and promise not to exhibit these behaviors while at school, yes," Dumbledore said.

"Where do I get all my supplies?" Tom asked. "I don't have any money."

"You've been granted a scholarship for those who are unable to pay," Dumbledore said. "You will have to buy some things second hand but they will suit you just fine."

"And where do I go?"

"There's a shopping district called Diagon Alley," Dumbledore said. "I'll take you today and help you purchase your supplies."

"No thank you," Tom said. "Just tell me where it is and how to get there. I'll do the rest. I've been on my own my whole life; this won't be any different. Thank you for coming to see me, I'll see you in September, professor."

"Well if you need anything, drop a letter addressed to me at Hogwarts and it'll get to me," Dumbledore said as he tried to school the shock on his face. "Here's your ticket to the train on September 1. Walk toward the pillar between the two platforms to find 9 and three-quarters.

Tom ripped the ticket out of Dumbledore's hands and held it like it was a ticket to the Wonka Factory.

"Thank you I will," Tom said without looking, his eyes fixed on the ticket in his hands.

"I think that's enough," the older Dumbledore said as he pulled them out of the memory.

"Albus," Flitwick was the first to break the silence. "That boy…"

"Quite the talent wasn't he?" Dumbledore smiled sadly. "He came to school and already knew the entire first year's spell repertoire. The teachers all raved about him. They called him a prodigy."

"What was your experience with him?" Hermione asked. "As a teacher, that is."

"Tom was very guarded around me," Dumbledore said. "I think he was afraid of how much he showed that first day and wanted to keep me at a distance. His Transfiguration marks were always good but never outstanding. That was until the OWLs where he showed off NEWT level control."

"Did you know what he'd become?" Harry asked.

"I had my fears," Dumbledore said. "He reminded me a little of Gellert, I will admit. He even reminded me of myself when younger. Very prideful and incredibly skilled as a wizard but the rumors troubled me. We couldn't prove anything but anyone who did anything to him fell under reprisals. One boy fell into a boiling cauldron, and another fell down the stairs. He quickly rose in the ranks of Slytherin and gathered allies, though I would never call them friends. As you saw, he never needed anyone except himself. There's another memory which I acquired but I won't be showing it to you."

"Why?" Harry asked with anger.

"In the memory, Tom influences a house elf to steal two artifacts from their master," Dumbledore said. "I know Miss Granger particularly would have a strong reaction. To summarize, and this took a lot of work to track down the elf and restore their memories, Tom stole Hufflepuff's Cup and Slytherin's locket- the one his mother gave up when he was born- from Hepzibah Smith, the last remaining descendant of the Hufflepuff line. Tom used the imperious to get Hokey the elf to put poison in her cup and then layered a memory of the elf doing it by accident. I wouldn't want to show it to you, especially so late tonight."

Two pops sounded as Winky and Dobby emerged into the office.

"May we see it?" Winky asked.

"I wouldn't want…" Dumbledore started to say before Harry cut him off.

"This is important to you two, isn't it?" Harry asked.

"Yes, Harry," Dobby said. "We heard stories of what Voldymort did to those like us. We need to see it for ourselves."

"Do it," Flitwick said. "They need this, Albus."

"As you wish," Dumbledore reluctantly pulled the cork on the memory vial and dropped it in. Dobby and Winky sunk into the basin as Dumbledore turned back.

"So what did you come away with after watching those memories?" Dumbledore asked them.

"Well if everything we know about genetics is true for wizards as well," Hermione started. "Inbreeding can lead to madness and I'm sure there's a correlation between inbreeding and their children being squibs."

"You would be correct, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said. "Though the ministry has kept that fact quiet, the pureblood's mission to remain "pure of blood" so to speak, has only one possible conclusion. What else did you notice?"

"Tom was very adept in magic even before he started," Harry said. "He was able to turn invisible and influence people without a wand. He also had his room at the top level, a room big enough for more than him yet he had it all to himself in a location where he could see everyone who comes and goes."

"Well spotted, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Since that meeting, he only got stronger. He was in the library every day, walking the castle every night. I don't know if anyone knew more about the castle than him. And with his adept, natural understanding of magic, he could have probably taken his NEWTS by third year. Guarded as he was in my class, he made it a point to always be the best, yet I could tell he was holding back."

"How could you know that?" Hermione asked.

"Because I was also a talented student who held back," Dumbledore said with a small smile. "Though I did it to not show off, Tom did it to hide his true power. After school, he began a campaign to take over the world, starting with the British Isles. He also took a keen interest in the Founders, hunting objects tied to them: Slytherin's Locket- which you saw,- Ravenclaw's Diadem, Gryffindor's sword, and Huff-"

As Dumbledore was about to finish the list, Dobby and Winky rose out of the basin, heaving heavy breaths, fury in their eyes.

"Hufflepuff's cup," Winky said. "That bad, bad man stole Hufflepuff's Cup and Slytherin's Locket from that lady and pinned it on her elf!"

"Tom," Dobby growled. "It is bad enough that most treat us like vermin but to make us into criminals, to make an elf break their oath and harm their master."

"Dobby calm down!" Harry leaped up and grabbed him by the shoulders as the objects in the office started to float.

"Dobby won't calm!" Dobby looked Harry in the eye as the items started to swirl around the elves. "That man… that monster. He is going to pay!"

"What happened?" Harry asked, shaking Dobby lightly in a vain attempt to get him to calm. "Dobby!? Tell me what you saw."

"Tom…" Dobby's entire body shook. "He wanted to steal Mrs. Smith's trinkets, so he forced her elf to abandon her sworn duty. Elves must never harm their master and Tom… forced Hokey to put poison in her tea and then make Hokey think she had done it by accident. That horrible, horrible man. That monster. Do you know how many times I wanted to harm Master Lucy? To pay him back for all the horrible things he did to me; for all the things he had me do myself? Yet I never did. Despite everything he did to me or made me do to myself, I was a good elf. I never harmed him while in his service. I knew of Hokey. It was a tale elves told one another: the elf who killed her master. Hokey bore her dishonor. She refused work, refused to use her magic. She just spent every day wishing she wouldn't wake up the next day until one day when she didn't."

"That's how I would have been," Winky said. "If you had not taken me on, I would have withered away like Hokey, forever feeling the weight of my failure. And Tom used Hokey for his own greedy needs. Tom must pay for what he's done!"

"And he will," Hermione said. "That's what we're doing; we're preparing to fight him and learning how to win."

"And we will help," Winky said, her face hardened with stiff resolve.

"Winky…" Hermione's face softened. "You don't have to do that. You don't have to put yourself in harm's way."

"You told us we can decide what we'd like to do," Dobby said. "You said you wanted friends, not slaves. Individuals who can decide their fate. Well, we have decided. We want to end Tom Riddle and everything he stands for. We want to fight for a world where elves are treated the way you treat us. Where we can serve our own wishes and our masters at the same time."

"So it shall be," Harry said, making Hermione whip her head around in fury. "Welcome the fight and with you on our side, I can't wait to bring Tom and his followers down."

Flitwick just watched from the corner; arms folded with a smile on his face.

Just when I thought I'd seen it all, these two continue to astound and impress.

"Let's get to work," Hermione said, though anyone could tell she still wasn't happy.

(A/N: I am back. Didn't intend to be gone so long but also didn't intend to get sick. Between a hospital stay and the recovery, my focus was on healing and it was hard to get in the writing mindframe. Though I've taken the time to setup how I want this story to go. Even came up with the ending of this while in the hospital. Couldn't figure out how to end this chapter until I realized Dobby and Winky would probably have a very strong reaction to that particular memory.)