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Harry Potter and the Breeding Darkness	By : Danyealle Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 297907 -:- Recommendations : 58 -:- Currently Reading : 185
Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Chapter List
- 20
- 21
- 22
This chapter is written by: Aya Macchiato

Beta done by tannne and Danyealle-sama

Again, I remind everyone that the amazing Aya Macchiato has given me permission to continue this story for her. This is another of the chapters that she already had done. All I've done with this one is some basic beta work, nothing more, it's as she wrote it!

Link to the first story...

http://hp.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=600095391

-Danyealle

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Chapter 20

It was now the morning of the second Friday in October, the 12th. There was a Defense and Dueling Association meeting that evening after dinner and Harry was mildly looking forward to it. Harry had History that morning, then Potions, and Transfiguration after lunch. After that, he had a free period that he would actually be spending with Thor assisting in one of his Defense classes. It was something he had started a few weeks earlier since he had a free block that none of his friends had.

Harry had no class at the end of Friday but Hermione had Arithmancy and Ron had Divination. Ginny and Luna both had classes as well. So, Harry visited Thor and sat in on his fourth year Defense class. It was a mix of Slytherins and Ravenclaws so it was actually a fun class to observe and help with. Thor had already taken to covering a few mild Dark spells with the group. They were all defensive spells rather than offensive but they were still Dark and most definitely not in the textbook. Thor had supplied them all with supplemental reading packets he had prepared himself and had the ward stones in place in the defense classroom as an extra precaution.

It was obvious to Harry and Thor that some of the students realized exactly what sort of spells they were practicing but the ones who noticed were also the ones who appreciated it the most and weren't about to go telling anyone. The rest of the students were blissfully ignorant of the Darker nature of the spells they had practiced as none of them seemed any more violent or dangerous than any of the other classes they practiced in any of their classes.

The plan for that evening's Dueling and Defense Association meeting involved Thor introducing the first truly Dark offensive spell for the group to practice. It was going to be a delicate experiment. First, and foremost, to see if anyone would call them on the affinity of the spell but also to see who in the class was actually able to cast it.

Harry's mind was so focused on what was going to be happening at the end of the day, that he was, admittedly, a bit distracted as he entered the Great Hall for breakfast that morning. He sat down at the Gryffindor table beside Hermione and across from Ron then began to pile food onto his plate with a sleepy, unfocused expression on his face. He was brought out of his morning haze by the sound of Hermione gasping beside him.

Harry turned his head and blinked owlishly at the girl who had her face utterly buried in the Daily Prophet.

"What's up?" Harry asked.

"Harry! Look at this!" Hermione exclaimed as she moved a few dishes out of the way and smoothed the paper out between them. It was open to page two and a large headline at the top center read 'New Study Proposes Radical ideas on the Origin of Magic in Muggleborns!'

Harry had to fight to school his expression and keep the smirk off his lips. He'd wondered when this would finally make the Prophet.

A new study that has been published simultaneously in the 'Journal of Magical Genealogical Study', and 'Trends in Magical Genealogy' entitled 'The Annihilation of the Muggleborn Myth'. The study, led by Professor Phoebus Penrose of the Royal Academy for the Advancement of Magics, claims that the idea of any magical person descending entirely from non-magical muggles is impossible. The study states that every muggleborn witch or wizard who participated in the study was, in reality, the descendant of a squib cast out from a magical family. The study states that all people with magic have to have a magical person somewhere in their family tree. That it is, in fact, impossible for a person with only muggle ancestors to develop spontaneously the ability to use magic.

The article went on from there, describing a few more of the claims the study made then going into the reactions of a few noteworthy individuals who were interviewed for their opinion. Among those to give their reactions were quite a few politically powerful purebloods who one would instantly expect to denounce such claims. However, none of them did. They all sang the praises of the study and said that this information needed to be more closely examined, that there were deep repercussions to come if such findings were to be true.

Hermione seemed exceptionally shocked when Lucius Malfoy was quoted as showing his support of further investigation into the study's findings. Ron's face seemed to turn red and pucker up with indignation at that. It seemed his instinct was to instantly distrust anything that a Malfoy put their support behind but Ron shocked Harry with a display of marginal intelligence when the ginger refrained from speaking against the article as it became blatantly obvious that Hermione was so excited by it.

One of the people quoted in the article said that the old families should each make an effort to track down any squibs that might have come from their lines and see if they had any descendents who were actively magical. That any so-called 'muggleborns' who were determined to be members of old wizarding families should be welcomed back and taught the traditions of their families. Anything to promote the muggleborns being fully included into magical society so that they don't feel the need to escape back into the muggle world and produce magically weaker offspring by marrying muggles.

Another section then went on to quote some of Professor Pheobus Penrose's paper about how too much muggle blood introduction into the family tree eventually results in weakened witches and wizards. If a squib manages to produce a magical heir, that heir should be instantly welcomed back to prevent any further contamination by muggle blood.

This part was even more heavily agreed with by Malfoy and several other old pureblood wizards. And, at this part, Ron's self-control finally slipped and he made a few snide remarks. Hermione had given him a sharp glare at that so he had instantly shut up.

Ginny had come over to see what the big deal was and had ended up reading over their shoulders. After a bit of discussion, Ginny's attention seemed drawn away from the main article and she frowned as she read one of the smaller articles in the lower left-hand corner of the page.

'Ministry Hit-Wizard Found Dead in his Home at age 58'

Alastor Gumboil, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's Hit-Wizard division, was found dead in his home yesterday by one of his friends and co-workers who came to check on him when he was absent from work for two days in a row.

Mr. Gumboil was taken to St. Mungo's for a full investigation into what caused his unexpected death. In what turns out to be quite the scandal, it appears that Mr. Gumboil was partaking in illegal potions of the mind-altering sort and managed to take one potion too many, bringing about his untimely demise.

Mr. Gumboil has been succeeded by Albert Runcorn who will now assume the position of Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Hit-Wizard Division.

Harry noticed where Ginny's gaze had shifted to and quickly skimmed over the article as well. Once again, he had to fight off the smirk that threatened to spread across his face. He would have to congratulate Runcorn on his promotion at the next meeting he had with him at the Abbey, he thought with a mental snicker.

"Hey, Ron?" Ginny said, looking up from the paper.

"Yeah?" Ron replied around a mouth full of food. Ginny grimaced at her brother, but continued.

"Wasn't dad friends with Alastor Gumboil?"

Ron frowned and his face pinched a bit as if he were trying really hard to remember something. Finally, he just shrugged and made a non-committal noise around another mouth-full of food. "I 'unno?" he managed to mumble out.

Ginny huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Alastor Gumboil?" Hermione asked, looking at Ginny with mild confusion.

Ginny pointed to the article and Hermione quickly read it.

Discussion of the articles eventually had to be cut short when breakfast ended and they all had to head off to their classes.

That evening, Harry cut out of dinner early and headed up into the large classroom that was used for the two 'defense' clubs. Thor was already there, getting the ward stones ready, so Harry quickly set to assisting him.

Just before 7 o'clock, the students began to arrive from dinner and gathered in the room. Among them were Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville. Most of the students who were prefects also attended the meeting, although the Slytherin and two of the Ravenclaw prefects were actually in the DAA instead of the DDA, and Harry had become rather friendly with all of the other prefects thanks to the meetings he attended every week.

Harry went over then chatted lightly with Hermione and the others while they waited for everyone to arrive. While doing that, several other students came up to Harry and asked him various questions. Some were about the previous DDA lesson while others were simply questions about general class work. Spells they had trouble getting to work for them or magical theories that they couldn't quite grasp.

"You know Harry, I know that at one point you were thinking of being an Auror but I have to say I think you'd make a wonderful teacher," Hermione observed after a Hufflepuff fifth year left to rejoin her friend on the other side of the room.

Harry turned and blinked at Hermione before ducking his head a bit and shrugging. "I might not mind that... eventually." Harry murmured after a moment. That was when Thor blew a sharp whistle with his fingers in his mouth to draw everyone's attention to the head of the class and quiet them all down.

"Gotta go," Harry said quickly to his friends before he trotted up to the front of the class.

Thor quickly got the meeting underway by reviewing some of the dueling spells they had discussed in the last meeting then asking a few random people in the room to state their observations on the benefits and deficiencies of several different dueling styles they had discussed and Thor had instructed them all to read up on.

"There are three new offensive spells that I am going to teach you all today in this lesson," Thor said in his booming voice. "You may not all be able to cast all three of them. Some of you may only manage one of them and that's alright. Not everyone has the aptitude to perform every spell ever created. They are all of about the same level and difficulty to perform, they're just different sorts of spells."

Thor began to pace slowly across the front of the room like he always did when he got deep into lecture mode and Harry just stood off to the side, watching with a small smile on his face. He really admired the man, if he was being honest with himself. Thor was a good dueler, although Harry knew he could best him if he had to, but mostly Thor was a good teacher. He had slipped into the role of teaching large groups fairly easily especially considering that, all of his teaching experience prior to this had been with far smaller groups. Usually one-on-one.

Thor went on to describe the three spells. One was an offensive Light spell. It made the opponent lightheaded and giddy then caused them to feel like all of their woes were gone. They would lose all desire to fight because, as far as they were concerned, everything was right with the world and there was no need for violence. It was actually a fairly tricky spell to pull off. Its downside was that it only lasted for about half a minute at the most. During that time, you would be best served to restrain them through some other means, like a body bind jinx or a petrifying curse. It was the perfect example of an offensive light spell since, if successful, it would usually end a conflict without any violence. The opponent would just give up. In fact, most offensive Light spells were forms of mind manipulation. It was no wonder the Light Lord was so accomplished at messing with people's minds.

The second spell was an offensive Neutral spell. It was a spell that, if you hit your mark, would cause your opponent to be spun around quite quickly several turns, causing dizziness and binding their legs in an invisible sort of magical rope then cause them to fall over.

The third spell was an offensive Dark spell. Harry and Thor had decided to do this first foray into exposure to Dark Magic this way so that no one could come straight out and accuse them of introducing just Dark magic. They could claim an unbiased stance since they were introducing a spell from each affinity. The added advantage was that they could see which students in the group got the Light spell to work the fastest and easiest then know that it was those students that they would need to be most cautious about.

The Dark spell being taught that day was sort of a counterpoint to the Light spell. It would cause utter despair in your opponent. Hopelessness would fill your opponent for about half a minute if you were able to put enough power into the spell. It would cause your opponent to no longer see any value in fighting you because they would know and fully accept that they were going to lose no matter what they did so they would simply give up.

It was surprisingly uncommon for a Dark spell to work this way. It took Thor a bit to track down a spell of appropriate difficulty that would be a non-violent counterpart to the Light spell they had chosen to use. Most offensive Dark spells resorted to some sort of physical damage because it was far more permanent and reliable. A person skilled at all in Occlumency could prevent either of these two Light and Dark spells from working. Of course, Occlumency was a far rarer skill among Light wizards. Dark wizarding family, in contrast, often began teaching the skill to their children as soon as they reached age 13. Some would accuse them of being paranoid and not trusting people. Dark wizards, however, would insist they were simply being cautious and intelligent.

Thor went through the proper incantations and wand movements with the group then had them all practice it in front of him while in a row so that he could make sure they were performing the movements correctly before he let them lose to work with their partners practicing performing the spells.

Harry and Thor both kept their eyes open and keenly observed the group as they began to try casting the three spells.

From Harry's viewpoint, he could see all of the Gryffindors very clearly as well as Luna, who was practicing with Ginny. On her first try, Luna had Ginny giggling dreamily before the ginger girl sat down onto the floor, laid back and looked up at the ceiling sighing happily, letting her wand roll away.

Okay, so Luna was clearly capable of Light magic with very little effort.

Hermione seemed to be trying the Light spell first as well but she had an utterly frustrated scowl on her face as she continued to perform the wand movements and the incantation correctly but just couldn't get the spell to cast. Ron was her partner and he was trying it as well as getting no response. Hermione continued to try with no success but, as Ron continued his efforts, Hermione's eyes suddenly glazed over a bit and a serene smile spread across her lips. Ron looked stunned when he realized that he had actually cast the spell successfully before Hermione had.

During all of this, Luna had canceled her successful spell on Ginny and allowed her to continue practicing the spell. It was difficult to tell exactly when Ginny's spell had actually worked on Luna since her normal expression was remarkably similar to the one induced by the spell but, according to Luna, Ginny had gotten the spell to work. The pair of them then went onto the Neutral spell and both were both able to spin the other once or twice within three times of trying the spell, although neither had induced the tornado-like spin or the bound legs yet.

Harry observed Neville's progress and saw the boy glowing with pride as he managed the Neutral spell perfectly on his third try, against Su Li, a Ravenclaw in their year. Neville smiled widely over at Harry who gave him an encouraging nod of his head.

Ron tried, and marginally succeeded, in making Hermione a bit hazy and giddy a couple times more before the two of them both switched to the neutral spell. Hermione managed it successfully on her forth try and some of her confidence seemed restored. Ron managed to make Hermione spin a few times and managed to induce some dizziness but never fully managed the binding aspect of the spell.

Harry paid particular attention when he saw that Ginny and Luna were moving on to the Dark spell. Again, Luna managed it fairly quickly. Not as quick as the Light spell but she undoubtedly succeeded in casting it. Interesting... Ginny looked terribly depressed, dropped her wand, and tears began to stream down her cheeks. Luna canceled the spell and waited a moment while Ginny recovered herself.

He continued to watch the pair as Ginny attempted casting the spell on Luna. He was rather surprised when she seemed to have success on her third attempt. It wasn't quite as dramatic as Luna's success but she had clearly managed the spell to some extent.

Harry kept his eyes open and observed everyone else as well. Since success meant having a terribly depressed partner, it wasn't difficult to pick out which students were succeeding with the Dark spell. Harry made a mental note of each and every one who had completely managed it as well as who had gotten partial results. He also observed the reactions of those casting the Dark spell with success.

He could see a gleam in the eyes of those who had successfully cast the spell on their first try, and he wondered how many of them were casting a Dark spell for the first time. For those with the natural disposition for Dark magic, casting it for the first time could fill them with a powerful rush. A feeling of awe, excitement, or rightness. It varied from person to person.

In contrast, Harry noticed that quite a few of the people who had easily succeeded with the Light spell seemed visibly ill or at least uncomfortable with casting the Dark spell. It went against their affinity and would never quite feel right for them.

Neville and Su Li both seemed to be struggling with the Dark Spell. Both had managed to make the other look a bit forlorn but neither had achieved the full power of the spell.

Harry's attention was drawn back to Ron and Hermione when he noticed that the pair were about to try the Dark spell. Hermione leveled her wand at Ron, said the incantation, perfectly performed the wand movement, and sent the spell flying. Ron's face instantly crumpled into a mask of utter despair. His knees buckled and he sunk to the floor, moaning about how hopeless everything was and beginning to rattle off all of the stresses currently hanging over his head. He seemed especially convinced that he was going to perform horribly in the next Quidditch match.

Hermione looked stunned. But, more than that, Harry noticed that her eyes were alight with wonder. And yet her eyes looked a bit heavy lidded and Harry could see her hand tremble slightly as it clasped her wand. Casting the spell had clearly affected her deeply.

Her shock over the way casting the spell had felt seemed to leave her suddenly as her attention was drawn to Ron, still whimpering on the floor. She gasped in shock at his obviously distraught state and quickly moved her wand to finite the spell.

Harry watched all this with considerable intrigue and a highly peaked interest.

Hermione was clearly inclined towards a Dark affinity. Interesting...

After returning to the abbey, going back 24-hours with the time turner then spending a comfortable, well-rested night with Tom, Harry and the Dark Lord found themselves in the large conference room on the first floor with a group of Death Eaters who all worked in the Ministry.

"First off, congratulations are in order to you Runcorn," Voldemort said with a wicked smirk. "I am quite pleased with your success in procuring the head of the Hit-Wizard division."

"Thank you, my Lord," Runcorn said, bowing his head low. As he rose back to his full height, sitting in his chair, he looked quite pleased with himself.

"Do you have anything to report on the process?"

"Everything went smoothly, my Lord. No one suspects foul play at all. His death is already being shoved under the rug."

Voldemort nodded his head and gave Runcorn an approving smirk. "Lucius, what do you have to report?" Voldemort said as he leaned back slightly in his regal high-backed chair that sat directly besides Harry's at the head of the long conference table. Tom's chair was slightly larger and a bit more ornate, but only marginally so, and Harry's chair was still clearly nicer than the ones the Death Eaters themselves sat in. It gave a subtle, yet clear, message to any sitting in the room.

"My Lord," Lucius began with a slight bow of his head, "I have learned that Fudge has managed to successfully pass a new decree regarding Hogwarts that can likely work in our favor."

"Go on," Voldemort said with a slight wave of his hand.

"Fudge has initiated an inquisition in to the quality of education our children are receiving at Hogwarts. He has assigned one of his advisers the position of 'High Inquisitor of Education'. She'll be visiting the school, observing all of the current staff and classes for deficiencies. It seems that the intention is that, by the end of it, she will be sacking a fair number of the current faculty members."

The corner of Harry's mouth twitched into a smirk. "If we manage to take proper advantage of this situation, we might even manage to get more of our people inside the school as staff members." Harry remarked and Voldemort nodded.

"We shall investigate which of our numbers would be most qualified to fill any of the posts and which will not draw Dumbledore's attention upon themselves." Voldemort said.

"There's no doubt in my mind that Binns will get the boot," Harry said, looking thoughtful. "Having one our people in the position of History teacher could be extremely beneficial. I've also heard that the witch they've got teaching muggle studies is a bit daft. Loves muggles to death but knows next to nothing about them. Some pureblood muggle lover who is blinded by her fascination by them. If we can get this 'High Inquisitor' to give her the boot, putting one of our people in that spot could be a real boon."

Voldemort nodded and looked pleased. "Lucius, who is it that Fudge has assigned the task? What do you know of her?"

"Her name is Dolores Umbridge and she is one of the under secretaries to Cornelius. The woman is a rather vile toad of a witch but her views are not terribly far off from our own and she is easily manipulated. She is incredibly faithful to the Minister and seems to be of the mind that Albus Dumbledore is a menace to society so he should be removed from the school. I imagine she will be useful."

"Good. Keep me informed of any advances in the situation."

"Yes, My Lord," Lucius said with another low bow of his head.

"Macnair, report." Voldemort said addressing Walden Macnair, who was sitting directly to Lucius' left.

"Yes, sir," Macnair said, with a quick curt bow of his head. "Cuthbert Mockridge of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures is working on a new bill that he and several others are planning to support then promote during the next legislative session of the Wizengamot. The bill would further cripple the rights of Dark creatures and make it a criminal act for a witch or wizard to knowingly bear children with a Dark creature while promoting any relations with a number of listed Light races."

Voldemort's eyes flashed red and his teeth clenched as an angry hissing sound escaped from between his teeth. Several of the Death Eaters in the room visibly paled or flinched in response. "Kill him and destroy all his work on the bill." Voldemort ordered immediately. "If you cannot achieve it without being caught, work with any of the other Death Eaters necessary to complete the task. Try to do it without drawing unwanted attention. However, the first priority is to stop the man and his work before the next session. It's only two weeks away, so you haven't much time."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Do not disappoint me, Macnair," Voldemort said in a quiet, high pitched warning tone.

Macnair paled and nodded his head quickly.

"Jeno, report!" Voldemort said sharply to the next Death Eater in line.

"My Lord, I have good news," Jeno Vass said with a hesitant but excited voice. Jeno Vass was one of the younger Death Eaters. He was an Auror and worked for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. However, Jeno was in his first year and his family didn't have any political sway or powerful contacts so he had to work through his first year in the Aurors as a guard at Azkaban. Even though Jeno was normally in the intermediate training group, he had been included in the planning for the Azkaban attack along with the Advanced group.

"Yes, Jeno?"

"Yesterday Samuel McKinnon, Amelia Bone's second-in-command of the Auror Division, came to the island for his monthly inspection of Azkaban. He and I were completely alone in one of the meeting rooms and he had his back to me. He set his wand down on the table so he could clean his glasses, and was completely off his guard. I took advantage of the opportunity and successfully put him under the Imperius."

Voldemort's hairless brows rose higher into his forehead. "While I am pleased by the outcome, I must express my concerns. How many times have you successfully cast an imperious before? Have you ever held one in place for an extended period of time? Your position could be jeopardized if he were to fight his way out from under your control."

"I've succeeded in my personal training numerous times. I'll admit I've never held one for an extended period but there haven't been any complications so far. He returns to the prison once a month and I estimate he will likely return to the island immediately following the attack on Azkaban, so I'll have numerous opportunities to renew the curse every time he comes."

Voldemort nodded his head. "Very well. Keep me up to date. I'll notify you whenever I have any specific tasks that we wish for Mr. McKinnon to perform for us."

The meeting went on for a bit longer as each of the Death Eaters gave their reports and Voldemort gave each of them any new needed tasks.

The following day at Hogwarts was Saturday, the 13th of October. There was a Gryffindor team Quidditch practice Saturday afternoon and a DAA meeting on Sunday afternoon. Harry was caught up and, in fact, ahead, on all of his reading and assignments, so aside from those two tasks, his weekend at school seemed to be totally free.

Saturday afternoon, as he was leaving the pitch with Ron and Ginny trailing behind him, a third-year came jogging up to him and handed him a small, tightly bound scroll of parchment. Harry pocketed it until they got to the common room where the group was greeted by Hermione and Neville. Hermione seemed to be attempting to help tutor Neville in Potions. As Harry sat down on one of the overstuffed couches, he could hear Hermione attempting to use references from Herbology, a subject that Neville was very comfortable with, to help him understand Potions.

Harry sighed and shook his head, thankful that he was spending his potion lessons with Draco and not Neville then, quickly, began to untie the small bit of twine that was holding the roll of parchment together.

Harry's eyes widened as he instantly recognized the long, slanted writing as Dumbledore's. It was another summons to the headmaster's office for a private 'lesson'. Harry frowned down at it, wondering what the hell Dumbledore could be planning. The last time Harry had been called to Dumbledore's office, the old coot had shown him a pensive memory of the fake prophecy. He had said that he wanted to continue to meet with Harry although Harry had, admittedly, sort of forgotten all about it. So what would this meeting entail?

Harry checked his watch. Dinner was in about a half hour and the letter asked Harry to come to Dumbledore's office at 7:30 pm.

Harry sighed with a slight air of impatience before turning to head up the stairs. Ron called after him, asking him where he was going, and Harry just said he was going to change then grab a book or something to read. Ron had rolled his eyes, muttering quietly under his breath as he turned towards one of the tables that currently had Dean, Seamus, and Lavender Brown perched around it, starting up a game of gobstones.

"Harry, you seem awfully distracted, is something the matter?" Hermione asked as the group sat down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall and began to fill their plates with food. Harry frowned and sighed before fishing the rolled up parchment out of his robes pocket then handing it over.

After his last 'private lesson' with Dumbledore, Hermione and Ron had both grilled him as to what had happened. Harry had used the excuse that Dumbledore had asked him not to reveal what he'd been shown simply because he had yet to decide how he was going to handle his two Gryffindor 'friends' and the whole prophecy mess. He certainly wasn't going to tell either of them Dumbledore's false prophecy but he had no reasonable excuse yet to explain why he would know it was false, or how he could possibly know what the real one was. Plus, neither of his friends had gotten proficient enough in Occlumency to guard such delicate information so there was simply no legitimate option to share it anyway.

Hermione had been studying Occlumency, of course, from a book that Harry had lent her, but Ron, as expected, simply lacked the patience or dedication to learn the challenging skill. He had chosen, instead, to simply avoid eye contact with Dumbledore or Snape. Harry sometimes felt that Ron was being a bit obvious about the whole thing but Ron was basically the fundamental stereotype of what a Gryffindor should be and you really couldn't expect a true Gryffindor to understand subtly or cunning.

After reading over the scroll, Hermione looked back up at Harry with wide eyes. "Do you know what he's going to be teaching you?" Hermione asked in a hushed voice that really only served in drawing Ron's previously oblivious interest.

Harry shook his head and shrugged. "No clue. He didn't really explain any of his plans, even during the last one."

"And you really can't tell us what he showed you last time?" Hermione asked with a slightly pleading tone to her voice and a small frown.

Harry let out another heavy sigh. "I'm sorry Hermione. I need to know more about what's really going on before I feel comfortable talking about it. Maybe things will be clearer after tonight."

Hermione looked disappointed, but didn't argue any further and Harry was able to get back to his meal.

At 7:25 pm, Harry left the Great Hall and quickly began to climb the stairs, making his way towards the headmaster's office on the seventh floor.

He reached the gargoyle, spoke the password that had been 'hinted' at in his summons, and quickly made his way up the spiral staircase and into Dumbledore's office. The elderly Headmaster was sitting in his chair with that infuriating genial smile on his face, complete with twinkling eyes. His pensive was, once again, placed upon his desk, clearly ready to be used by the pair of them for this 'lesson'.

"Ah, welcome, Harry. Thank you for coming to see me today on such short notice," Dumbledore said, folding his hands on his desk.

"It's quite alright, sir," Harry said, in a voice that he forced to sound timid and unsure. "Is um... is this more about the prophecy that you told me last time? About how I'm supposed to defeat Voldemort?"

"It is my hope that what I am going to show you today is one thing among others that will eventually help you in accomplishing your goal of defeating Voldemort," Dumbledore said in a rather annoying evasive way.

Harry took on the air of a worried youth and nodded his head with a look of grim determination.

"Now, before I start, Harry, I want you to know that we will be leaving the firm ground of fact then venturing in the rocky territory of conjecture and guess work. I'll be showing you memories from several different sources during our visits. The memory that I wish to show you tonight belonged to a man by the name of Bob Ogden. He was gracious enough to voluntarily provide me with this memory some years ago. I wish for us to both witness it first and after that, we can discuss what we've seen."

"Okay, sir." Harry said with a nod.

"Good, good." Dumbledore said with a smile as he stood and uncorked a small vile on his desk and poured it into the Pensieve. A few moments later, both Dumbledore and Harry were entering the Pensieve. Harry was overwhelmed by the sudden feeling of falling then the instant sensation of standing perfectly still.

He blinked owlishly to find that he was standing on a strangely familiar country lane bordered by high, tangled hedgerows, beneath a bright summer sky. Some ten feet in front of he and Dumbledore stood a short, plump man wearing enormously thick glasses that reduced his eyes to mole-like specks. He was reading a wooden signpost that was sticking out of the brambles on the left-hand side of the road.

He was also wearing the strange assortment of clothes so often chosen by inexperienced wizards trying to look like Muggles: in this case, a frock coat and spats over a striped one-piece bathing costume. Before Harry had time to do more than register his bizarre appearance, however, the wizard had set off at a brisk walk down the lane.

As he passed the wooden sign, Harry looked up at its two arms. The one pointing back the way they had come read: Great Hangleton, 5 miles. The arm pointing after the wizard said Little Hangleton, 1 mile. Harry suddenly realized precisely why this little dirt path looked so familiar, and Harry instantly found himself far more curious about the memory than he was some minutes earlier.

Harry and Dumbledore continued to follow the short fat man with nothing to see but the hedgerows, the wide blue sky overhead and the swishing, frock-coated figure ahead. Then the lane curved to the left and fell away, sloping steeply down a hillside, so that they had a sudden, unexpected view of a whole valley laid out in front of them. Harry could see Little Hangleton below, nestled between two steep hills, its church and graveyard clearly visible. Across the valley, set on the opposite hillside, was the oh-so-familiar manor house he had called home so very recently, surrounded by a wide expanse of velvety green lawn. It was strange seeing Riddle Manor looking so pristine and well kept. Even though Tom had fixed the place up quite a lot, most of his renovations were exclusive to the interior so Harry was more accustomed to the outside of the manor looking extremely decrepit.

Little Hangleton itself also looked strange to his eyes and Harry wondered suddenly just how long ago this memory took place.

He wondered if Little Hangleton was their destination, or if perhaps the manor was, but a sinking feeling inside him told him that their destination was most likely an entirely different, and far more humble home than the large, impressive, Riddle manor. He soon discovered that his suspicions were correct as the lane curved to the right and when they rounded the corner, it was to see the very edge of the wizard's frock coat vanishing through a gap in the hedge.

Harry and Dumbledore followed him onto a narrow dirt track bordered by higher and wilder hedgerows than those they had left behind. The path was crooked, rocky, and potholed, sloping downhill like the last one, and it seemed to be heading for a patch of dark trees a little below them. Sure enough, the track soon opened up at the copse, and Harry came to a halt behind the wizard, who had stopped and drawn his wand.

Despite the cloudless sky, the old trees ahead cast deep, dark, cool shadows, and it was a few seconds before Harry's eyes discerned the building half-hidden amongst the tangle of trunks. It was the Gaunt house. Not that Harry had ever actually seen it in person, but Tom had described it to him, and he knew this was the correct location for it. The fact that there was a dead snake nailed to the door was also a dead giveaway. Suddenly, one of the windows was thrown open with a clatter, and a thin trickle of steam or smoke issued from it, as though somebody was cooking.

The wizard moved forward quietly and, it seemed to Harry, rather cautiously. Then there was a rustle and a crack, and a man in rags dropped from the nearest tree, landing on his feet right in front of the wizard, who leaped backward so fast he stood on the tails of his frock coat and stumbled.

§You're not welcome.§

The man standing before them had thick hair so matted with dirt it could have been any color. Several of his teeth were missing. His eyes were small and dark and stared in opposite directions. He might have looked comical, but he did not; the effect was frightening, and Harry could not blame the wizard for backing away several more paces before he spoke.

"Er, good morning. I'm from the Ministry of Magic..."

§You're not welcome.§

"Er, I'm sorry... I don't understand you," said the wizard nervously.

For a moment, Harry thought the wizard was being extremely dim; the stranger, who Harry was fairly certain was Morfin Gaunt, was making himself very clear in Harry's opinion, particularly as he was brandishing a wand in one hand and a short and rather bloody knife in the other. But then realization hit him, the slight hissing at the end of the phrase. Of course, the Ministry wizard didn't understand him; Morfin was speaking parseltongue! That explained why he hadn't realized it before, to him it sounded like regular English and he and Tom slipped in and out of it so often and so easily that he often didn't even notice it when it happened. However, if he really made an effort he could distinguish the slight hissing. Morfin was now advancing on the Ministry wizard, knife in one hand, wand in the other.

"Now, look..." the wizard began, but too late. There was a bang, and the wizard was on the ground, clutching his nose while a nasty yellowish goo squirted from between his fingers.

"Morfin!" said a loud voice.

An elderly man had come hurrying out of the cottage, banging the door behind him so that the dead snake swung pathetically. This man was shorter than Morfin, and oddly proportioned; his shoulders were very broad and his arms overlong, which, with his bright brown eyes, short scrubby hair, and wrinkled face, gave him the look of a powerful, aged monkey. Harry knew instantly that this man had to be Marvolo Gaunt – Tom's grandfather. Marvolo came to a halt beside Morfin, who was now cackling with laughter at the sight of the wizard on the ground.

"Ministry, is it?" said Marvolo, looking down at the wizard.

"Correct! I'm Mr. Ogden," said the wizard angrily, dabbing his face. "And you, I take it, are Mr. Gaunt?"

"S'right," said Marvolo. "Got you in the face, did he?"

"Yes, he did!" snapped Ogden.

"Should've made your presence known, shouldn't you?" said Marvolo aggressively. "This is private property. Can't just walk in here and not expect my son to defend himself."

"Defend himself against what, man?" said Ogden, clambering back to his feet.

"Busybodies. Intruders! Muggles and filth," retorted Gaunt.

Ogden pointed his wand at his own nose, which was still issuing large amounts of what looked like yellow pus, and the flow stopped at once.

The memory continued from there. Ogden and the two Gaunts argued with Marvolo and Morfin engaging in some conversation in parseltongue, much to Ogden's obvious displeasure. Harry had to fight the smirk when he realized that he was able to understand significant portions of this memory that even Dumbledore himself couldn't.

Finally, Ogden insisted upon going into the house. It seemed that the Ministry had sent them some sort of warning and notice that Morfin needed to appear at the Ministry for a trail since he had been detected assaulting a muggle with magic.

The house seemed to contain three tiny rooms. Two doors led off the main room, which served as kitchen and living room combined. Morfin sat down in a chair and began to hiss to a live adder in parseltongue. Harry heard a noise coming from the portion of the open room that was made up of the kitchen space and was startled to find a rather sad and ragged looking girl there. This had to be Merope. This was Tom's mother.

Marvolo began to speak with Mr. Ogden again about the charges the Ministry was trying to bring against Morfin. At some point Merope managed to drop and break a large kettle, at which point Marvolo bellowed angrily at the girl and accused her of being a squib when she failed to mend the kettle with magic. Ogden saved her the trouble and used his wand to mend it for her.

The arguing between Marvolo and Ogden continued as Ogden tried to explain that Morfin had been summoned for a hearing.

"It is a summons to the Ministry for a hearing..."

"Summons! Summons? Who do you think you are, summoning my son anywhere?"

"I'm Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad," said Ogden.

"And you think we're scum, do you?" screamed Marvolo, advancing on Ogden now, with a dirty yellow-nailed finger pointing at his chest. "Scum who'll come running when the Ministry tells 'em to? Do you know who you're talking to, you filthy little mudblood, do you?"

"I was under the impression that I was speaking to Mr. Gaunt," said Ogden, looking wary, but standing his ground.

"That's right!" roared Marvolo. For a moment, Harry thought Marvolo was making an obscene hand gesture at the Ministry wizard, but then realized that he was showing Ogden the black-stoned ring he was wearing on his middle finger, waving it before Harry's own eyes and causing him to gasp.

Dumbledore seemed to notice Harry's recognition but didn't remark on it.

"See this? See this? Know what it is? Know where it came from? Centuries it's been in our family, that's how far back we go, and pureblood all the way! Know how much I've been offered for this, with the Peverell coat of arms engraved on the stone?"

"I've really no idea," said Ogden, blinking as the ring sailed within an inch of his nose, "and it's quite beside the point, Mr. Gaunt. Your son has committed..."

With a howl of rage, Gaunt ran toward his daughter. For a split second, Harry thought he was going to throttle her as his hand flew to her throat; next moment, he was dragging her toward Ogden by a chain around her neck.

"See this?" he bellowed at Ogden, shaking a heavy locket at him, while Merope spluttered and gasped for breath.

Harry had to stifle the gasp that tried to escape form between his lips when he got a good look at the locket. It was the very same locket he had recovered from Grimmauld place and given to Tom a month and a half prior. Tom had told him the story of how he had taken it from an old witch who had bought it from Borgin, who had in turn, bought it for 'a pittance' from some ragged, desperate looking witch many years earlier. But this was truly proof that the locket had once belonged to Tom's mother.

"I see it, I see it!" said Ogden hastily.

"Slytherins!" yelled Gaunt. "Salazar Slytherin's! We're his last living descendants, what do you say to that, eh?"

"Mr. Gaunt, your daughter!" said Ogden in alarm, but Gaunt had already released Merope and she staggered away from him, back to her corner, massaging her neck, gulping for air.

"So!" said Gaunt triumphantly, as though he had just proved a complicated point beyond all possible dispute. "Don't you go talking to us as if we're dirt on your shoes! Generations of purebloods, wizards all, more than you can say, I don't doubt!"

And he spat on the floor at Ogden's feet. Morfin cackled again. Merope, huddled beside the window, her head bowed and her face hidden by her lank hair, said nothing.

More arguing commenced and was only broken when the sounds of horses, and voices trailed in through the kitchen window. It quickly became clear to Harry that the voices from outside belonged to a pair of muggles, the very same muggle that Morfin was accused of having attacked. A muggle named Tom.

Merope looked torn between wanting to run out and watch the owner of the voice, and wanting to cower somewhere in terror. Morfin began to hiss to Marvolo that Merope fancied the muggle and that was why he had attacked the man, to teach his stupid filthy sister a lesson.

Marvolo exploded at poor Merope and more insanity quickly ensued. As Marvolo attempted to attack Merope, Ogden intervened and shot his own spell at the elder Gaunt. Morfin quickly joined the fray, brandishing his knife and throwing hexes indiscriminately from his wand.

Ogden quickly ran for his life then Harry and Dumbledore followed the wizard to not lose the image of Ogden's memory while Merope's screams echoed in his ears.

The wizard hurtled up the path and erupted onto the main lane, his arms over his head, where he collided with the glossy chestnut horse ridden by a very handsome, dark-haired young man. Both he and the pretty girl riding beside him on a gray horse roared with laughter at the sight of Ogden, who bounced off the horse's flank and set off again, his frock coat flying, covered from head to foot in dust, running pell mell up the lane.

Harry found himself stunned as he looked upon the handsome muggle man who was still laughing at Ogden. Those happy, mirth-filled eyes were exactly like Tom's... only they were a dark brown instead of the ruby red Harry was used to.

His features were just like Tom's as well. So very similar. It was definitely obvious that Tom took after his father almost solely, which was a good thing because poor Merope was not exactly a very pretty woman.

The memory began to fade out and Harry felt himself being pulled back to reality. A moment later he found himself sitting in the chair opposite Dumbledore's desk again, feeling mildly disoriented.

Harry looked up owlishly to find Dumbledore smiling down at him expectantly. Harry blinked at his headmaster as he quickly began to wrack his brain for some idea of how he would have reacted to this memory had he not known what he knew.

"Do you know what happened to the girl, sir?" Harry asked, realizing that Dumbledore would most likely expect him to show a certain level of concern for the girl.

"Oh, she survived," said Dumbledore, reseating himself behind his desk. "Ogden Apparated back to the Ministry and returned with reinforcements fifteen minutes later. Morfin and his father attempted to fight but both were overpowered, removed from the cottage and subsequently convicted by the Wizengamot. Morfin, who already had a record of muggle attacks, was sentenced to three years in Azkaban. Marvolo, who had injured several Ministry employees in addition to Ogden, received six months."

"Marvolo... as in Tom Marvolo Riddle?" Harry asked, seeing this as a good opportunity to move things along to what was more obviously the point of all this.

"That's right, I'm glad to see you're keeping up. The old man was Voldemort's grandfather," said Dumbledore. "Marvolo, his son Morfin and his daughter Merope were the last of the Gaunts, a very ancient wizarding family noted for a vein of instability and violence that flourished through the generations due to their habit of marrying their own cousins. Lack of sense coupled with a great liking for grandeur meant that the family gold was squandered several generations before Marvolo was born. He, as you saw, was left in squalor and poverty with a very nasty temper, a fantastic amount of arrogance and pride, as well as a couple of family heirlooms that he treasured just as much as his son and rather more than his daughter."

"So Merope was … was Voldemort's mother?" Harry asked, continuing to move things along.

"Yes, she was," answered Dumbledore. "And it happens that we also had a glimpse of Voldemort's father. I wonder whether you noticed?"

Harry nodded. "The man on the horse? The muggle Morfin attacked?"

"Very good indeed," beamed Dumbledore. "Yes, that was Tom Riddle Sr, the handsome muggle who used to ride past the Gaunt cottage and for whom Merope Gaunt cherished with secret passion."

"And they ended up married?" asked Harry, feeling honestly curious as to how this had actually come to pass. He wondered suddenly how much of this Tom actually knew.

"I think you are forgetting that Merope was a witch," said Dumbledore. "I don't believe that her magical powers appeared to their best advantage when she was being terrorized by her father. Once Marvolo and Morfin were safely in Azkaban, once she was alone and free for the first time in her life, then, I am sure, she was able to give full reign to her abilities and plot her escape from the desperate life she had led for eighteen years. Can you not think of any measure Merope could have taken to make Tom Riddle forget his muggle companion, and fall in love with her instead?"

"Amortentia," said Harry. "Or the Imperius curse?"

"Very good. Personally, I am inclined to think that she used a love potion. I am sure it would have seemed more romantic to her and I don't think it would have been too difficult. Some hot day, when Riddle was riding alone, to persuade him to take a drink of water. In any case, within the few months after the scene we have just witnessed, the village of Little Hangleton enjoyed a tremendous scandal. You can imagine the gossip it caused when the squire's son ran off with the tramp's daughter Merope.”

"But the villagers' shock was nothing to Marvolo's. He returned from Azkaban, expecting to find his daughter dutifully awaiting his return with a hot meal on his table. Instead, he found a clear inch of dust and her note of farewell, explaining what she had done.”

"From all that I have been able to discover, he never mentioned her name or existence from that time forth. The shock of her desertion may have contributed to his early death or, perhaps, he had simply never learned to feed himself. Azkaban had greatly weakened Marvolo and he did not live to see Morfin return to the cottage."

"And Merope? She died, didn't she? Wasn't Voldemort brought up in an orphanage?"

"Yes, indeed," said Dumbledore. "We must do a certain amount of guessing here, although I do not think it is difficult to deduce what happened. You see, within a few month of their runaway marriage, Tom Riddle Sr. returned to the manor house in Little Hangleton without his wife. The rumor flew around the neighborhood that he was talking of being 'hoodwinked' and 'taken in'. What he meant, I am sure, is that he had been under an enchantment that had now lifted though I daresay he did not dare use those precise words for fear of being thought insane. When they heard what he was saying however the villagers guessed that Merope had lied to Tom Riddle, pretending that she was going to have his baby and that he married her for this reason."

"But she did have his baby."

"Yes, but not until a year after they were married. Tom Riddle left her while she was still pregnant."

"Why? Did the potion stop working?"

"Again, this is guesswork," said Dumbledore, "but I believe that Merope, who was deeply in love with her husband, could not bear to continue enslaving him by magical means. I believe that she made the choice to stop giving him the potion. Perhaps, besotted as she was, she had convinced herself that by now, he would have fallen in love with her in return. Perhaps she thought he would stay for the baby's sake. If so, she was wrong on both counts. He left her, never saw her again, and never troubled to discover what became of his son."

"So he abandoned her even though she was pregnant?" Harry remarked angrily.

Dumbledore sighed and nodded his head. "That he did. However, one can not entirely blame him for having left after being put under the effects of a powerful potion and not understanding what had happened."

"Even if he left her, he shouldn't have just abandoned his own child," Harry remarked bitterly, feeling a rather powerful anger welling deep inside him on Tom's behalf.

"Ah, yes, there is no telling what our history could have looked like if Tom Riddle Sr. had stayed behind long enough to ensure the safety and well being of his son." Dumbledore said with a heavy sigh. "But there are some other portions of the memory that I wish to draw your attention to, Harry. There were two artifacts in this memory that have a significance that will become clear in later visits. Do you remember the locket that Merope was wearing?"

Harry frowned and nodded slowly as if he were having trouble remembering. "Yes... Marvolo Gaunt said that it belonged to Slytherin, right?"

"That is correct, Harry. Now there was one other artifact..."

"The ring!" Harry exclaimed and his eyes instantly fell onto the ring that Dumbledore himself was still wearing on his mangled hand. "Sir! It's the same one, isn't it? The one you have on your hand?"

Dumbledore's eyes widened as if he were surprised that Harry had actually made this connection before he quickly schooled his expression and smiled kindly. "You are right again, Harry. Yes, this ring is the very same ring that we saw in that memory."

"Will you tell me the significance of that ring now, then?" Harry asked, sounding hopeful.

"Ah... not just yet, Harry. We still have other things to cover first before we can get onto the true significance of this ring."

Harry frowned slightly, but inside he was fuming. "Alright, sir." Harry let out a small sigh and tried to control and subdue his emotions then school his features completely. "Sir, I'm curious... this memory is interesting and all but what good could it possibly do in helping me defeat Voldemort?"

"Ah, that is a very valid question to ask. The answer to which will become more apparent in later meetings. Now, it is getting quite late and I know if I don't let you go soon, you will be late for your prefect duties."

Harry blinked. "Wait, that's it?"

"For tonight, yes. I will send you another note when I am ready to show you the next set of memories."

Harry kept his expression blank but the anger was only growing stronger deep inside him. This man was truly infuriating. What an obscenely stupid waste of time. It was obvious where Dumbledore was trying to go with this. It was all about what objects Tom had chosen for his horcruxes but Harry wondered why Dumbledore felt possessed to show him these little memories instead of simply tell him what he thought the objects were. He couldn't help but wonder if Dumbledore actually knew what all of the other horcruxes were.

"Okay, thank you, sir." Harry mumbled as he stood up, bid Dumbledore goodnight and quickly left the office

That night after returning to the abbey and going back 24-hours, Harry lay in bed telling Tom about all that he had seen. Tom's face had taken on a stunned mask as Harry described the memory of Tom's mother and father. Tom had been rather quite after that and Harry could feel a rumble of confused emotions simmering across the link.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked tentatively as Tom climbed into bed.

Tom frowned, knitting his eyebrows together for a moment. "Yes..." he said slowly. "It's... odd. I hadn't really thought much of any of them in a very long time. If anything, what you told me only adds additional validation to my actions during my youth."

"You mean when you went to Little Hangleton and killed them all?"

"Well, technically I did not kill Morfin, although I almost wish I had... I merely framed him for the murder of the muggles. He died in Azkaban. And Marvolo had already died years before I ever got there."

Harry nodded his head. He was lying on his side with his arm up, folded at the elbow and propping his head up on the heel of his palm. Tom turned onto his side and met Harry's intense green eyes. They merely stared at each other for a long moment before Tom sighed.

"Honestly, Harry, I'm not really sure what I'm feeling at the moment. It's rather... confusing." He chuckled humorlessly and sighed again. "My emotions never used to be this complicated. I blame it entirely on you."

Harry smiled weakly. "Is that a good or a bad thing?"

Tom chuckled and smiled reassuringly at Harry. "A good thing."

"Good."

* This chapter contains some direct scenes and dialogue from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
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Harry Potter and the Breeding Darkness