(I'm going to publish two chapters today, this one is another Riddle memory chapter so while there are some changes at the beginning the memory is still the same, if you just want to read the first quarter and move on to the other chapter that is all fine by me. The second chapter is more original.)
Previous Chapters:
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003768423
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003769317
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003770117
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003771789
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003772695
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003774876
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003775746
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003776170
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003776958
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003777821
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003778655
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003779874
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003781975
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003784137
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003786670
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003788477
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003788958
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003789922
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003790766
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003792515
Tags:
@Teddy.J.B @Pervaza972 @CatsAndRoblox @Missy Clara Oswald
Chapter Twenty-One: Lord Voldemort's Request
The follow day was thankfully uneventful, just the regular stresses of class and homework.
They were walking back from Charms when a voice behind them called, 'Harry!' giving him an excuse to turn his back on her.
'Oh, hi, Luna.'
'I went to the Charms classroom as I was told you all had a class there,' said Luna, rummaging in her bag. 'But they said you’d left...'
She thrust what appeared to be a green onion, a large spotted toadstool, and a considerable amount of what looked like cat litter into Theodore’s hands, finally pulling out a rather grubby scroll of parchment that she handed to Harry.
'...I’ve been told to give you this.'
It was a small roll of parchment, which Harry recognized at once as another invitation to a lesson with Dumbledore.
'Tonight,' he told his friends, once he had unrolled it. He then turned to Luna. 'I really liked your commentary during the last match.'
Luna smiled vaguely as she took back the green onion, the toadstool, and the cat litter.
'You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?' she said. 'Everyone says I was dreadful.'
'No, I'm not making fun of you, I really enjoyed it Luna,' said Harry honestly.
'Well, I wasn't planning on doing Gryffindor verses Hufflepuff this weekend, but maybe now I will, Smith can't do it anyway as it is his own House competing.'
'I'll watch if I can,' called out Harry as she walked away.
They all did their different homeworks together that night, and when Harry had to head to his lesson with Dumbledore, Theodore offered to finish up Harry’s part. He was grateful for this as Harry was not looking forward to finishing a Herbology essay past midnight.
Harry hurried out through the portrait hole and off to the headmaster’s office. The gargoyle leapt aside at the mention of toffee éclairs, and Harry took the spiral staircase two steps at a time, knocking on the door just as a clock within chimed eight.
‘Enter,’ called Dumbledore, but as Harry put out a hand to push the door, it was wrenched open from inside. There stood Professor Trelawney.
‘Aha!’ she cried, pointing dramatically at Harry as she blinked at him through her magnifying spectacles. ‘So this is the reason I am to be thrown unceremoniously from your office, Dumbledore!’
‘My dear Sybill,’ said Dumbledore in a slightly exasperated voice, ‘there is no question of throwing you unceremoniously from anywhere, but Harry does have an appointment, and I really don’t think there is any more to be said—‘
‘Very well,’ said Professor Trelawney, in a deeply wounded voice. ‘If you will not banish the usurping nag, so be it…Perhaps I shall find a school where my talents are better appreciated…’
She pushed past Harry and disappeared down the spiral staircase; they heard her stumble halfway down, and Harry guessed that she had tripped over one of her trailing shawls.
‘Please close the door and sit down, Harry,’ said Dumbledore, sounding rather tired.
Harry obeyed, noticing as he took his usual seat in front of Dumbledore’s desk that the Pensieve lay between them once more, as did two more tiny crystal bottles full of swirling memory.
‘Professor Trelawney still isn’t happy Firenze is teaching, then?’ Harry asked.
‘No,’ said Dumbledore, ‘Divination is turning out to be much more trouble than I could have foreseen, never having studied the subject myself. I cannot ask Firenze to return to the forest, where he is now an outcast, nor can I ask Sybill Trelawney to leave. Between ourselves, she has no idea of the danger she would be in outside the castle. She does not know—and I think it would be unwise to enlighten her—that she made the prophecy about you and Voldemort, you see.’
Dumbledore heaved a deep sigh, then said, ‘But never mind my staffing problems. We have much more important matters to discuss. Firstly—have you managed the task I set you at the end of our previous lesson?’
‘Ah,’ said Harry, brought up short. What with Apparition lessons and Quidditch practice and Tracey being poisoned and the Quidditch match, his developing relationship with Allison, and his determination to find out what Draco Malfoy was up to, Harry had almost forgotten about the memory Dumbledore had asked him to extract from Professor Slughorn. ‘Well, I asked Professor Slughorn about it at the end of Potions, sir, but, er, he wouldn’t give it to me.’
There was a little silence.
‘I see,’ said Dumbledore eventually, peering at Harry over the top of his half-moon spectacles and giving Harry the usual sensation that he was being X-rayed. ‘And you feel that you have exerted your very best efforts in this matter, do you? That you have exercised all of your considerable ingenuity? That you have left no depth of cunning unplumbed in your quest to retrieve the memory?’
‘Well,’ Harry stalled, at a loss for what to say next. His single attempt to get hold of the memory suddenly seemed embarrassingly feeble. ‘Well…the day Tracey swallowed love potion by mistake I took her to Professor Slughorn. I thought maybe if I got Professor Slughorn in a good enough mood—‘
‘And did that work?’ asked Dumbledore.
‘Well, no, sir, because Tracey got poisoned—‘
‘—which, naturally, made you forget all about trying to retrieve the memory; I would have expected nothing else, while one of your closest friends was in danger. Once it became clear that Miss Davis was going to make a full recovery, however, I would have hoped that you returned to the task I set you. I thought I made it clear to you how very important that memory is. Indeed, I did my best to impress upon you that it is the most crucial memory of all and that we will be wasting our time without it. And yet I hear you’ve been going on dates, following Mr Malfoy when I told you to drop that matter, and I’ve received word from a reliable source that a young man with your glasses and complexion was in Hogsmeade a little over a month ago with only a single Auror’s protection.
A hot, prickly feeling of shame spread from the top of Harry’s head all the way down his body. Dumbledore had not raised his voice, he did not even sound angry, but Harry would have preferred him to yell; this cold disappointment was worse than anything.
‘Sir,’ he said, a little desperately, ‘it isn’t that I wasn’t bothered or anything, I’ve just had other—other things…’
‘Other things on your mind,’ Dumbledore finished the sentence for him. ‘I see.’
Silence fell between them again, the most uncomfortable silence Harry had ever experienced with Dumbledore; it seemed to go on and on, punctuated only by the little grunting snores of the portrait of Armando Dippet over Dumbledore’s head. Harry felt strangely diminished, as though he had shrunk a little since he had entered the room. When he could stand it no longer he said, ‘Professor Dumbledore, I’m really sorry. I should have done more…I should have realized you wouldn’t have asked me to do it if it wasn’t really important.’
‘Thank you for saying that, Harry,’ said Dumbledore quietly. ‘May I hope, then, that you will give this matter higher priority from now on? There will be little point in our meeting after tonight unless we have that memory.’
‘I’ll do it, sir, I’ll get it from him,’ he said earnestly.
‘Then we shall say no more about it just now,’ said Dumbledore more kindly, ‘but continue with our story where we left off. You remember where that was?’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Harry quickly. ‘Voldemort killed his father and his grandparents and made it look as though his Uncle Morfin did it. Then he went back to Hogwarts and he asked…he asked Professor Slughorn about Horcruxes,’ he mumbled shamefacedly.
‘Very good,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Now, you will remember, I hope, that I told you at the very outset of these meetings of ours that we would be entering the realms of guesswork and speculation?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Thus far, as I hope you agree, I have shown you reasonably firm sources of fact for my deductions as to what Voldemort did until the age of seventeen?’
Harry nodded.
‘But now, Harry,’ said Dumbledore, ‘now things become murkier and stranger. If it was difficult to find evidence about the boy Riddle, it has been almost impossible to find anyone prepared to reminisce about the man Voldemort. In fact, I doubt whether there is a soul alive, apart from himself, who could give us a full account of his life since he left Hogwarts. However, I have two last memories that I would like to share with you.’ Dumbledore indicated the two little crystal bottles gleaming beside the Pensieve. ‘I shall then be glad of your opinion as to whether the conclusions I have drawn from them seem likely.’
The idea that Dumbledore valued his opinion this highly made Harry feel even more deeply ashamed that he had failed in the task of retrieving the Horcrux memory, and he shifted guiltily in his seat as Dumbledore raised the first of the two bottles to the light and examined it.
‘I hope you are not tired of diving into other people’s memories, for they are curious recollections, these two,’ he said. ‘This first one came from a very old house-elf by the name of Hokey. Before we see what Hokey witnessed, I must quickly recount how Lord Voldemort left Hogwarts. He reached the seventh year of his schooling with, as you might have expected, top grades in every examination he had taken. All around him, his classmates were deciding which jobs they were to pursue once they had left Hogwarts. Nearly everybody expected spectacular things from Tom Riddle, prefect, Head Boy, winner of the Award for Special Services to the School. I know that several teachers, Professor Slughorn amongst them, suggested that he join the Ministry of Magic, offered to set up appointments, put him in touch with useful contacts. He refused all offers. The next thing the staff knew, Voldemort was working at Borgin and Burkes.’
‘At Borgin and Burkes?’ Harry repeated, stunned.
‘At Borgin and Burkes,’ repeated Dumbledore calmly. ‘Under primary ownership at the time of Caractacus Burke. I think you will see what attractions the place held for him when we have entered Hokey’s memory. But this was not Voldemort’s first choice of job. Hardly anyone knew of it at the time—I was one of the few in whom the then headmaster confided—but Voldemort first approached Professor Dippet and asked whether he could remain at Hogwarts as a teacher.’
‘He wanted to stay here? Why?’ asked Harry, more amazed still.
‘I believe he had several reasons, though he confided none of them to Professor Dippet,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Firstly, and very importantly, Voldemort was, I believe, more attached to this school than he has ever been to a person. Hogwarts was where he had been happiest; the first and only place he had felt at home.’
Harry felt slightly uncomfortable at these words, for a time he felt similarly about Hogwarts too when he had been going through a long rough patch with his parents.
‘Secondly, the castle is a stronghold of ancient magic. Undoubtedly Voldemort had penetrated many more of its secrets than most of the students who pass through the place, but he may have felt that there were still mysteries to unravel, stores of magic to tap. And thirdly, as a teacher, he would have had great power and influence over young witches and wizards. Perhaps he had gained the idea from Professor Slughorn, the teacher with whom he was on best terms, who had demonstrated how influential a role a teacher can play. I do not imagine for an instant that Voldemort envisaged spending the rest of his life at Hogwarts, but I do think that he saw it as a useful recruiting ground, and a place where he might begin to build himself an army.’
‘But he didn’t get the job, sir?’
‘No, he did not. Professor Dippet told him that he was too young at eighteen, but invited him to reapply in a few years, if he still wished to teach.’
‘How did you feel about that, sir?’ asked Harry hesitantly.
‘Deeply uneasy,’ said Dumbledore. ‘I had advised Armando against the appointment—I did not give the reasons I have given you, for Professor Dippet was very fond of Voldemort and convinced of his honesty. But I did not want Lord Voldemort back at this school, and especially not in a position of power.’
“‘Which job did he want, sir? What subject did he want to teach?’
Somehow, Harry knew the answer even before Dumbledore gave it.
‘Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was being taught at the time by an old Professor by the name of Galatea Merrythought, who had been at Hogwarts for nearly fifty years. So Voldemort went off to Borgin and Burkes, and all the staff who had admired him said what a waste it was, a brilliant young wizard like that, working in a shop. However, Voldemort was no mere assistant. Polite and handsome and clever, he was soon given particular jobs of the type that only exist in a place like Borgin and Burkes, which specializes, as you know, Harry, in objects with unusual and powerful properties. Voldemort was sent to persuade people to part with their treasures for sale by the partners, and he was, by all accounts, unusually gifted at doing this.’
‘I’ll bet he was,’ said Harry, unable to contain himself.
‘Well, quite,’ said Dumbledore, with a faint smile. ‘And now it is time to hear from Hokey the house-elf, who worked for a very old, very rich witch by the name of Hepzibah Smith.’
‘Any relation to the Smith cousin?’ asked Harry.
‘As a matter of fact, she was Sally Smith and Zacharias Smith’s great-aunt, the older sister of their shared grandfather,’ answered Dumbledore.
The “was” and the fact that they were using a house-elves memory instead of hers gave Harry the feeling this memory was not going to end well for Hepzibah Smith.
Dumbledore tapped a bottle with his wand, the cork flew out, and he tipped the swirling memory into the Pensieve, saying as he did so, ‘After you, Harry.’
Harry got to his feet and bent once more over the rippling silver contents of the stone basin until his face touched them. He tumbled through dark nothingness and landed in a sitting room in front of an immensely fat old lady wearing an elaborate ginger wig and a brilliant pink set of robes that flowed all around her, giving her the look of a melting iced cake. She was looking into a small jeweled mirror and dabbing rouge onto her already scarlet cheeks with a large powder puff, while the tiniest and oldest house-elf Harry had ever seen laced her fleshy feet into tight satin slippers.
‘Hurry up, Hokey!’ said Hepzibah imperiously. ‘He said he’d come at four, it’s only a couple of minutes to and he’s never been late yet!’
She tucked away her powder puff as the house-elf straightened up. The top of the elf’s head barely reached the seat of Hepzibah’s chair, and her papery skin hung off her frame just like the crisp linen sheet she wore draped like a toga.
‘How do I look?’ said Hepzibah, turning her head to admire the various angles of her face in the mirror.
‘Lovely, madam,’ squeaked Hokey.
Harry could only assume that it was down in Hokey’s contract that she must lie through her teeth when asked this question, because Hepzibah Smith looked a long way from lovely in his opinion.
A tinkling doorbell rang and both mistress and elf jumped.
‘Quick, quick, he’s here, Hokey!’ cried Hepzibah and the elf scurried out of the room, which was so crammed with objects that it was difficult to see how anybody could navigate their way across it without knocking over at least a dozen things: There were cabinets full of little lacquered boxes, cases full of gold-embossed books, shelves of orbs and celestial globes, and many flourishing potted plants in brass containers. In fact, the room looked like a cross between a magical antique shop and a conservatory.
The house-elf returned within minutes, followed by a tall young man Harry had no difficulty whatsoever in recognizing as Voldemort. He was plainly dressed in a black suit; his hair was a little longer than it had been at school and his cheeks were hollowed, but all of this suited him; he looked more handsome than ever. He picked his way through the cramped room with an air that showed he had visited many times before and bowed low over Hepzibah’s fat little hand, brushing it with his lips.
‘I brought you flowers,’ he said quietly, producing a bunch of roses from nowhere.
‘You naughty boy, you shouldn’t have!’ squealed old Hepzibah, though Harry noticed that she had an empty vase standing ready on the nearest little table. ‘You do spoil this old lady, Tom…Sit down, sit down…Where’s Hokey? Ah…’
The house-elf had come dashing back into the room carrying a tray of little cakes, which she set at her mistress’s elbow.
‘Help yourself, Tom,’ said Hepzibah, ‘I know how you love my cakes. Now, how are you? You look pale. They overwork you at that shop, I’ve said it a hundred times…’
Voldemort smiled mechanically and Hepzibah simpered.
‘Well, what’s your excuse for visiting this time?’ she asked, batting her lashes.
‘Mr Burke would like to make an improved offer for the goblin-made armor,’ said Voldemort. ‘Five hundred Galleons, he feels it is a more than fair—‘
‘Now, now, not so fast, or I’ll think you’re only here for my trinkets!’ pouted Hepzibah.
‘I am ordered here because of them,’ said Voldemort quietly. ‘I am only a poor assistant, madam, who must do as he is told. Mr Burke wishes me to inquire—‘
‘Oh, Mr Burke, phooey!’ said Hepzibah, waving a little hand. ‘I’ve something to show you that I’ve never shown Mr Burke! Can you keep a secret, Tom? Will you promise you won’t tell Mr Burke I’ve got it? He’d never let me rest if he knew I’d shown it to you, and I’m not selling, not to Burke, not to anyone! But you, Tom, you’ll appreciate it for its history, not how many Galleons you can get for it.’
‘I’d be glad to see anything Miss Hepzibah shows me,’ said Voldemort quietly, and Hepzibah gave another girlish giggle.
‘I had Hokey bring it out for me…Hokey, where are you? I want to show Mr Riddle our finest treasure…In fact, bring both, while you’re at it…’
‘Here, madam,’ squeaked the house-elf, and Harry saw two leather boxes, one on top of the other, moving across the room as if of their own volition, though he knew the tiny elf was holding them over her head as she wended her way between tables, pouffes, and footstools.
‘Now,’ said Hepzibah happily, taking the boxes from the elf, laying them in her lap, and preparing to open the topmost one, ‘I think you’ll like this, Tom…Oh, if my family knew I was showing you…They can’t wait to get their hands on this!’
