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He had researched it, quite a great deal, and was grateful that he had such grand connections as he did. Otherwise, he might have made a terrible mistake in his choice. He knew now, though, that it would be for the better. Ancient Tomes older than Great Britain, hells, even greater than most spoken languages, were sprawled out in front of him. He had promised greatness to the goblins, and they had seen no malice, or lies in his words. So, they would help him.
Tom Marvolo Riddle sighed as he ran a hand over his face, grumbling gently as he leaned back. His eyes and head hurting from the sheer volume of information he was absorbing. He was nearly fifty years old, and yet he had not accomplished all he had wished to. Sure, he had a great deal more time, but he had barely scratched the surface. He grumbled as he watched the clock tick closer and closer to midnight. He would do it this year, that was for sure. He would be forty nine, a multiple of seven, one of the most magical numbers.
He rubbed his eyes again, just as the clock struck midnight, and it was like he could feel magic refreshing itself around him. He smiled gently, glad he did not go with the idiotic plan he had in his teenage years. Truly, a horcrux at sixteen? What a fool he would have been. He then frowned and his lip curled in agitation, due to the fact that yet again, he was reminded of his failure to get some form of employment at Hogwarts, his first real home. Dumbledore and his greater good. Dumbledore and his desire to stamp all forms of progressive magic.
He shook his head and got up to stretch, a Malfoy house elf cleaning up after him, and getting a whispered thanks in return. While Tom was of no mind to think all creatures were his equal, he respected them, and what they did. Muggles, on the other hand, were to be feared . At least, the ones in power, who had the voice and ears of the masses. He shuddered, remembering how the second world war ended, and what the American’s had done to the Japanese.
He went to his room, one so graciously given to him by Lucius, and took his time preparing for bed, before succumbing to sleep, dreams of grand things in his head.
~AGP~
“My lord, are you sure this will work?” Lucius asked of Tom, who gave him a small, gentle grin in return.
“I am sure of nothing, Lucius, but I will trust Mother Magic to guide me.” Tom said, getting a soft, if not hesitant, nod from his most trusted lieutenant. He then stepped into the ritual circle, sighing softly as the magic washed over him. “This is magic far from what I could have ever hoped to dream, to achieve. I only hope that those who follow me, do not think less of me for doing this.” He said, before kneeling, in simple cotton robes, and nothing more. Anything else, even his wand, would disrupt the magic.
He closed his eyes and started speaking in ancient, dead Sumerian. A language thought to be forever vanished, forever removed from the annals of history. He had found it, it had been gifted to him. He sighed as he felt the magic wash over him, twisting him, changing him. Never again would he be the same, and as his soul moved and split, he felt magic seep into both parts. His connection grew, pathways extended and materialized, and his understanding exploded. He could understand now, and though the pain of all of this was near unbearable, he had to endure.
~AGP~
Lucius watched as his lord twisted, screamed, and writhed in agony. He wanted to help him, to step forward and stop this, but he knew better. His lord was doing this for the betterment of their world, and as he saw his form shift and change, he let out a soft gasp. His Lord had become something that even those most staunch light wizards could respect, if not utterly fear: A Lich.
The wisps of magic flickering off of him, the cloth robes cascading around him and changing to green and black, the sheer power that basted the room now. Lucius was in the presence of his great lord, made even greater so due to this. When the screaming stopped, there was a low, rattling laugh. It was as if the grave had poured from his lord’s lips. His eyes, a glorious crimson, turned to the kneeling Malfoy Lord.
“See what I have become now, Lucius. Rise, and bear sight to the great Lord Voldemort.” Tom said, his rictus grin wide, and showing much of his skeletal structure. It was not completely hideous, he did have some semblance of whom he used to be, but there was a reason fear came at the sight of a Lich, aside from their power.
“I am honored, humbled, and fearful, my lord.” Lucius said, truthfully, bowing again. His chin raised shortly after that, looking up at his lord.
“Never fear me, Lucius, so long as you never betray me.” Tom said, before retrieving his phylactery, because a horcrux just did not have the protections this did. He could drop this from the stratosphere, dunk it into the deepest parts of the ocean, and not a scratch would come from it. Yet, still, he understood it was not completely indestructible. “Keep it within your vaults, I bestow this upon you, my most trusted servant.” He said, and Lucius nodded, taking it with reverence. He would keep this treasure safe.
“What are you to do now, my lord?” Lucius asked, tucking the item away.
“What I promised, Lucius. The world shall be mine, and through it, perfection.” Tom said, taking a silver and gold crown from a waiting pedestal, and putting it on his head. It sank into place, and vanished from sight and sense. He only knew of it because it was on his head, even he could not sense it magically. It was designed to keep him from losing himself to the maddening effects of being so in tune with magic. It would drive even the most strong willed mad, and he took every precaution.
“I must test my magic now, Lucius, do not disturb me. I shall be in the basement.” Tom said, before starting to nearly glide out of the room. Feet silent and soft, and Lucius shuddered, wondering if he would ever get used to such oppressive magic. He then took a deep breath, smiling softly as he prepared a trip to Gringotts. His lord had given him an incredibly special task, he would see it done.
~AGP~
He was the paragon of the light, he was a master of all magics, both supernatural and mundane. He was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, and none were his equal. To make it even more so, he had a seer in his pocket, and because of this was able to get glimpses of the future. She had yet to give him a proper prophecy, though, but he knew that would change. He smiled at the thought, knowing that once that happened, the Light would prevail.
He drank his lemonade with a grimace, as he was always regretting his decision to take Sybill from her mother those many years ago. Her mother, Cassandra, named after the ancient Greek seer, had put an ancient curse on him before her death. Lemons, and other high citrus fruits would be his only source of nutrients, and as his magic needed quite a bit, he was always sucking down heavy candy, or drinks ladened with the acid. It did terrible things to his throat and stomach, but he knew it had to be done.
He shook his head from his thoughts, and took a look outside, smiling as his Gryffindors toyed with Horace’s snakes, as they should. When he was a greater ruler of this land, there would be only three houses, maybe even just two. Knowledge and courage, that was all you needed to live your life, though with knowledge came the truth that you were all just pawns. So… hard work and courage, instead. Yes, that sounded good. Pomona and Minerva were always more pliable than Filius, despite him saving the little creature.
~AGP~
“Prongs… no, James, we need to talk.” Sirius Black said, well, Seriously. James frowned as his friend, no, his brother, sat down with him. The older male shifted a bit, and he looked away. “There’s been a change… in what's been going on outside Hogwarts, and I got a glimpse of it this Yule.” He said, and James frowned. Yule? Only the purebloods referred to that, his parents did, but they just didn’t understand.
“Sirius, maybe we should go to Madam Pomfrey.” James offered, concerned for his friend. Was he a supporter of the dark now? Did he want to get a resort to the house of snakes? Perhaps he was under the imp-
“Do you know what a Lich is, James?” Sirius asked, interrupting his thoughts. Of course he knew what a Lich was! All purebloods knew what a damned lich was. The most powerful of magics, sure it was dark, but you could do whatever you want with that kind of magic, it was amazing. At his affirmative nod, Sirius continued. “I met one this Yule… sweet Merlin, James… he was powerful.” The teenager said, voice in sheer awe.
“An honest to god Lich? Are… really?” James asked, and Sirius nodded slowly. “He’s not on Dumbledore’s side, is he? Oh, of course he is!” He said, brightly smiling. The war would be over, the Light would win. Soon, Volde-
“It’s Lord Voldemort, James. He is the Lich. He made the transformation in July, apparently. On the seventh.” Sirius said. “Seventh Month, Seventh Day, Seventh Hour, Seventh Minute.” He said, and it was a mumble really, his whole world view changed. “I watched him nearly flay my mother alive, because she had put me under the Cruciatus the day before.” He said, looking up at James. “Then he bloody fucking healed me!” He near snarled out, and James leaned back at the vehemence of the statement.
“He healed you? Oh… well, fuck.” James said, slumping back and thinking. He had heard horror stories of Voldemort, but to have his brother say such a thing? The Black’s were immune to everything but ritual mind magic, and even that was difficult. It was their pureblood trait, as most liked to boast of. He thought about it, before taking a deep breath. “I gotta write home…” He said, and Sirius nodded. Neither of them really understanding just how much that statement would aid in the war.
~AGP~
Dumbledore was pleased, yet another raid on a death eater safe house, thanks to his spy. He always had a spy, and if they were found out, he’d simple convince another to take their place. He smirked as he watched the house crumble, and then there were cracks of apparition, the Aurors arriving. They took one look at him, and they seemed to relax.
“Nothing to worry about, my lads. We were simple facilitating you in your duties to weed out those who would harm our world.” Dumbledore said, and he got nods all around. He was about to speak again when there was a huge displacement of air, and then a small ripping sound, before a honest to Merlin portal opened. None since the founders had created portals, and a small group of death eaters walked out. Their normal black robes, though, were accented with silver, and their masks were gone.
“Ah, so you’ve come to take reve-” Dumbledore started, before he stopped himself as the last figure left the portal before it closed. This wasn’t possible, they couldn’t have the services of such a being. It was wrong, it was unfair , to be sure. “And whom are you?” He asked, after getting his bearings back.
“I am the one who is going to destroy you, Dumbledore.” Came the chilling tones of the Lich, and even some of the half bloods and muggle born on the Auror force could feel the palpable power coming from this form. “I am going to torture you in ways you cannot imagine, and then… when you beg for it, I will be a merciful lord, and grant it.” He said, and Dumbledore shuddered, because there was little even he could do to a lich.
“I am sure, my good sir.” Dumbledore started, not going to even dare calling this being ‘boy’, as he wanted to. It would no doubt enrage the powerful creature. “That we can work together, and help better this world.” He said, the aurors around him smiling and nodding. Dumbledore was here, they could salvage this, and not all be slaughtered like cattle.
“Aurors, leave. Your soon to be lord commands it.” The Lich said, and his tone left absolutely zero room for argument, and the aurors did as they were told. When it was just Dumbledore and his Order of the Phoenix, he turned back. “I give you all, in Dumbledore’s Order, one chance. Either join me, or flee. Stay here, and you will die. Stay here, and I will take great pride in making your family lines loyal to me in your unfortunate death.” He said, and there was hesitance, before a series of pops and the like left Dumbledore with a handful of only his most faithful.
“It doesn’t have to be like this, my good sir.” Dumbledore tried again, wand out and at the ready. The Death Stick would not fail him.
“You think that I, Lord Voldemort, would lower myself to working with an old, cursed man?” Voldemort said, making Dumbledore take a step back. “I can See magic now, Dumbledore. I see the way the curse radiates through you, how even now it constricts your body, your magic.” He said, hissing out softly afterwards with a rattling laugh. “I wonder, whom did you earn such a thing from?” He had his hand on a staff, Dumbledore just realized, which only greater showcased just how much Power he had control of.
“So, tricks and ritual, is that it now, Tom?” Dumbledore said, his glare heavy, and his wand out. This was all a ruse, to be sure. There was no way Tom had access to such magic. “I am afraid it is time for you to face justice.” He let out a sigh as he said this, as if it was the most painful thing in the world.
“It is not I who will answer to Mother Magic, today, Albus.” Tom said, and though he was indeed Lord Voldemort, those who knew him best, knew him as Tom. “Once more, because I am indeed a generous lord, I give you the chance to flee. Flee or join my side, and watch Dumbledore crumble to nothing.” He said, and Dumbledore inwardly smirked. Even if the rest wanted to flee, he was an alchemist, and master of all magics. They could not flee.
“They know you must be brought to justice, so they will aid me in your demise.” Dumbledore said, and then Tom lightly tapped his staff on the ground, magic bursting out in waves around both groups, before vanishing. Ha! Dumbledore knew it, parlor tricks, nothing more. That was, until he was left with only three on his side, as the others had left in swirls of portkey travel, and apparition.
“A simple spell, Dumbledore, to dispel unwanted magics on a person.” Tom said, grinning and then his eyes narrowed, his throat letting out a terrible growl. “You must remember, Dumbledore… I always keep my promises.” He said, and then the battle was over before it could even begin.
~AGP~
Dumbledore’s Devious Debauchery
That was the headline of the next Daily Prophet . Dumbledore had been easily bested, and when he was pumped full of Veritaserum, he sang like a canary. As an alchemist, he could counter it, but he had not had the time or forethought to. So, he was vulnerable to the potent serum. Misdeeds, crimes, all around disgusting acts, all laid out for the world to see. They even got testimony, written and verbal, from his lover, Gellert Grindelwald. To say it was a shock he was still alive, was an understatement.
There were those who were scared with Dumbledore gone, as he had not been sentenced to Azkaban, but to summary execution by being tossed through the Veil of Death. Some fled, knowing in their own minds that Voldemort would rain hellfire and brimstone on the world. There were those who stayed, the majority actually, knowing that magic would guide them. There was no such thing as a true utopia, but Voldemort would do his best, and make sure that for centuries to come, it would remain that way.