“They are ready at your signal, my lord.”
This was an accumulation of everything he had been working towards.
Right here, right now, Lord Voldemort would go from myth to legend.
Diagon alley was a buzz with the meanderings of ordinary witches and wizards, but today, today they would witness something extraordinary. Death eaters hiding in plain sight. A single gesture from their god and all would be chaos.
Hand raising slowly, allowing himself to bask in his greatness as he moved to start the raid.
His rival Dark Lord would rue the day he dared to looked down upon Lord Volde-
CRASH
White stone plummeted from the sky, it shattered into pebbles beside him. More meteors of marble showered around them, he threw up a quick shield to protect himself from the barrage. His carefully laid plans ruined as screams directed his sight upwards.
There upon the roof of Gringotts was a dragon, it was an emaciated thing, its wings torn and stitched together like patchwork. It’s weakened state did nothing to temper the flames it spat as the pillar below its foot crumbled. It's roar echoed through the pandemonium, his loyal army, so unprepared for this outcome now joined in the fleeing masses.
“My Lord, what is happening!” The pureblood crashed into his lord as the crowd surged around them.
How could this happen, this was meant to be his start, his beginning, and it was crashing down around him like the facade of the once great banking institution.
As the dragon’s great wings opened, swishing air aside as it began to take flight, he saw it. People astride the creatures back. Only due to his great eyesight was he able to make out the trio.
He would find them, they would suffer the punishment they deserved for this failure.
Apparating away, Lord Voldemort left the ruins of his awaited debut behind him, he would be back, and it would be even grander.
The next morning's paper reads: “Break in at Gringotts leads to Dragon escape. Goblins struggle to explain.”
The pub was dingey, far below someone of his status, but it would do for its required purpose. He was to meet a man who, for a price, would hand over sensitive information. With it in his grasp the ministry would be his, the Minister would not dare risk the scandal it would cause.
Complete ministry control, there would be no limit to the strings he could pull in the shadows, the world would be in the palm of his hand with no one the wiser. His first act of business would be to reinstate the Gaunt's seat, followed swiftly by taking action to dispatch Grindelwald. There was not enough space in this world for two Dark Lords.
The window beside him shook slightly as the bell above the door dinged, announcing a newcomer to the room. A clumsy cloaked boy knocked into his table, shaking his earl grey as they passed. “Sorry, sorry.”
The fool was saved from the crucio on his lips as the bell above the door dinged again, another visitor had arrived. It had better be this broker, the meeting time was quickly approaching, and Lord Voldemort was not one to be left waiting.
Two more cloaked figures entered, as mangy and dirty as the first. They scurried past his table like rats, and luckily for them did not cause the same mistake as their companion.
“Harry, I am so glad you’re okay! We thought you were dead meat when they-”
“Hush! Ron, sit down!” The girl seemed to be the most reasonable of their group, quickly swishing her wand as a silencing charm shimmered over them.
The distraction was quickly overshadowed by the bell once more. A shaky man walked in. Shifty eyes landed on him as the hunched figure quickly pulled out the chair before him, taking a seat with no fan fair.
“You the buyer?”
Nodding, he would not dignify such low class behavior with a real response.
The rat-like man leaned forward, a folder slipping from his coat onto the table. “Price ‘as gone up. A lot of folk’s try’na get their ‘ands on these.”
How dare he try to pull such a stunt. The yew wand fell into his grip as he prepared to show this bottom feeder who he should be simpering to.
“You dare-”
The bell dinged, louder this time, the door slamming open against the wall with it. “He’s in here! Find him, and bring him before our Master!”
Rising to his feet, he watched as blue cloaked acolytes filled the pub, their silver crests flashing in the candle light showing their allegiances. They walked past him without thought, he obviously was not their objective tonight. The sketchy man with him pushed himself back against the wall hiding the folder back in his coat.
The group of three cloaked fools suddenly burst into motion. “Get out of here! I’ll hold them off!” Spells whizzed past as Grindelwald's men found their target. The one who had bumped his table now broke an opponent's nose with a punch before blasting another with an expelliarmus. His friends were fighting with an equal amount of gusto, even as the red head dragged the girl towards the door.
“Harry! Come with us!”
It went unheard as an acolyte smashed into his table, taking his earl grey with him, the man passed out across his shattered tea cup. Looking up, he saw the broker was gone, having taken the distraction as his chance to flee.
The door swung slightly in the wake of him and the escaping duo.
Jaw clenching, he weighed the pros and cons of getting involved just so he could relieve his frustrations. As he made up his mind, a foot landed on the chest of the Acolyte before him. Green eyes flashed to him as the boy pushed forward, bursting through the window, leaving shattered glass raining down on Lord Voldemort’s perfectly laid plans.
The distraught blue clad survivors bumbled over themselves to rush out after, but it was too late, the tell tail pop of apparition showing their prey had already escaped.
It was unfathomable, how dare they get in the way of his ascension.
Fire burns through the words on the crumpled paper: “Ministry secrets revealed! Minister spends his nights in Knockturn!”
After the attempted raid at Diagon, he realized why it had been unsuccessful. Diagon might have been where he first came in contact with magic, but it was trampled upon, a worn path having seen many wars before.
No, he needed somewhere that would leave gasps upon hearing its location. A place so assured of peace it would shock those who heard into disbelief. And what place is better than a place right below Albus Dumbledore’s nose.
Hogsmeade, tucked away in the loving embrace of Hogwarts, no one had ever dared betray its cozy quiet.
No one until Lord Voldemort that is.
There was no quiet contemplation as he gave the signal this time, no reveling in the glory, simply throwing up his hand to begin the attack.
His blood sang as the screams rang out. Magic flowed into his wand as minutes passed of horror, the street was a mess of glass, and bodies. Death Eaters followed their name sake as they wrought destruction upon the sleepy town.
Finally, this was it, this was the moment, HIS moment!
White yew held high he nearly sang the incantation. “Morsmordre!”
Green smoke filled the sky, storm clouds batting away the last vestiges of light. A giant snake winding its way through the dark.
It was beautiful.
Bated breaths as the fantastical creature reached for the skull it called home.
Sparks caught it on its journey, thousands of fireworks blasting through the image. The sky lit up brighter than the sun as it erased the snake from view.
“You think you can beat me with such party tricks! I am a Dark Lord!”
Lord Voldemort would almost believe he himself had said it, if not for the fact, that it was not his voice.
Moving quickly he found his way to the town center, and there was his nemesis, yelling at a puny figure.
Blue robes shielded the men from his view, but he could just make out the black and blonde hair.
“I know I can! EXPELLIARMUS”
What a foolish spell to cast at a Dark Lord. Surely the duel would end quickly and he could cast his symbol again, taking credit once more.
Yet the duel was not over quickly, it was a mess of fighting. He watched as redheaded twins pushed Knott into a pond before being chased off by an acolyte welding an out of control fire spell.
The Death Eaters were nothing but a third wheel, being thrown around like cannon fodder. This was getting ridiculous, no one was even acknowledging their presence, each side assuming the unknown masked individuals were with the other.
There was no standing out, no making a name. He couldn't watch this for a moment more, would need to retreat for now, just until he found the spy in his organization and could end this once and for all.
In a sweep he apparated from the town, it had not seen the last of him, he would be back.
A knife is stabbed through that morning's headline: “Grindelwald attacks Hogsmeade, Is anyone safe from his war?”
Someone has been plotting against him. The possibility of there being a spy amongst his followers was growing. Each plan he laid, no matter how detailed and prepared, would fall before it even had a chance to succeed.
The name Lord Voldemort, the image of a snake and skull, his masked death eaters, none of it had even made the papers. Each line leaving him in obscurity. He needed to find the source, find who thought it worth their life to provoke him from the shadows.
It always happened in an instant, a single blink and he was once again pushed aside as the standing Dark Lord took credit for his work. He needed to slow down time, find the source and put an end to it, and to do so, he needed a time turner.
Such objects were locked away in the department of mysteries, but the Ministry’s defenses were as pathetically lacking as always. Under the cover of night, masked and cloaked, he strolled through the dark stone corridor, his three most loyal in tow he led them leisurely to the case holding piles of glittering gold pendants.
Finally, he had the means to put an end to this madness, to make Lord Voldemort the name that trembled from every whimpering lip. When he succeeded and had the annoying fly caught in his web, he would torture them slowly, bleed them dry and leave them a husk before giving them the mercy of death.
The silent room was filled with yells as he reached forward to grab the most prominent of the batch.
“Hand it over Harry or your little friends are dead!”
The name rang familiar, it seemed to be following him recently. Spell fire lit up the shadows, Bellatrix gave a feral grin as she pulled her wand into a fighting position. The crazed woman always keen for a fight.
Splinters from exploding wooden shelves were thrown aside by a well placed shield charm. He wouldn’t allow another plan to be foiled. Reaching quickly he moved to grab the gold rings. His hand shoved aside by a body colliding with the glass.
The fighting had taken over the space they occupied, Bellatrix jumped into the fray, attacking everyone with equal ruthlessness. It seemed to surprise the intruding parties to have new opponents, yet it was not something they had time to question.
Reaching again to grab a time turner past the slumped form of what looked to be an acolyte, he was grabbed by the elbow, and hefted to the side unceremoniously. The gold chain slipping from his grasp as he was thrown.
Crouch had moved him out of the way from a bombarda, it ravaged the case, mangling every time turner and reducing the corpse to ash.
This was not possible. Not again!
Gripping his wand tight, he turned to the caster. Grindelwald. The blonde maniac seemed to not even have noticed his miscast spell, instead focusing on the intended target. A boy, short with a mop of curly black hair blurred past resembling a spooked deer as he ran.
Throwing a crucio at Grindelwald, it was flicked away as if nothing more than a school boy taunt as the mad wizard ran quickly after his retreating prey.
Lord Voldemort was not treated as a second thought! His followers joined him as they chased after the battling enemies.
They converged in a large circular room, stones piled in the center holding a tall arch.
Lights, red, blue, green, orange, flying in every direction. No one knew where to aim, or who they were even cursing only to attack anyone they didn’t know. Slashing his way through a werewolf and two acolytes he made his way towards the arch where the real fighting laid.
He could see Grindelwald smile gleefully as he faced the black haired boy. Their back was turned to him, but he could imagine the look of fear and terror the tiny mortal was showing to the beast hunting him. Lord Voldemort had seen that look many times, intimately knew the sense of superiority you get knowing your opponent was out of their depths and knew it too.
Somehow Bellatrix had already made her way there, she threw herself between them attempting to join their duel as a sour green and blazing red raced for each other. Her notorious cackle was cut off, her eyes frozen wide as she fell forward through the archway. It melted around her like fabric, pulling her body through as she disappeared from view.
“Who was that?”
He snarled as he looked to who said such words, it was a redhead, one he had seen before, but where.
Moving to take down the runt of a wizard for his comment, he was stopped by a booming voice.
“Gellert!”
All eyes fell to Albus Dumbledore, standing like a prideful lion in the doorway. Grindelwald jumped forward, racing after the retreating headmaster. Followed by a mad rush for the doors, everyone chasing after their respective leaders.
Soon it was simply him, Barty and an unconscious Rosier.
“My Lord, Bellatrix, she-”
It was unacceptable. “Let's go before the Aurors arrive.”
Another failure. He had to find the spy, and when he found them, even the mercy of death would be no longer theirs.
His owl laid dead beside the words: “Grindelwald breaks into the Ministry, Dumbledore gives him the Duel of the century!”
“I wouldn’t get that one, he's nippy.” The hooded stranger's warning caused him to withdraw his hand.
“Do you work here?” It was strange for a shop keep to wear a cloak while working.
“Huh? No?” The stranger pulled down his hood, luminous green eyes laying upon him. “I just really love owls. I just lost mine and I- I miss her.”
Something about him was so familiar, something was tapping away at him, he knew him. How did he know him? “Have we met before?”
A soft smirk, “Not yet, but we have now. Are you looking for an owl?”
“Yes.” He snubbed any chance for continued conversation, he was obviously mistaken. The recent incidents causing him paranoia.
Yet the green eyes stayed on him. “Do you have a pet?”
Why was this boy still speaking with him, did he not have better things to do? He ignored the question, looking at a hawk that seemed a good choice.
“That one’s stubborn, he will want more and more treats per letter till he is too fat to carry them anymore.”
He moved on again, this time to a raven with oil slick feathers.
“Should I guess?”
What on earth was the boy speaking about, ignoring the words he examined the line of feathers.
“I don’t think it would be anything normal, and you don’t strike me as a toad type of person.”
He glanced at the other. Was he still on about this, had no one taught him manners. Turning to the other side of the shop to look at the smaller birds, he was followed.
“I’m going to say something magical. You have an edge of mystery too, so maybe something a bit dangerous like an acromantula.”
As if he would ever own something as disgusting as an overgrown spider. His unwanted conversation partner took his lack of response as an answer.
“Okay, not an acromantula. What about a hippogriff? You seem noble, they would like you.”
A Dark Lord would never bow, not even to a magical creature. He brushed it off and glanced at a sparrow, it was unassuming and would go unnoticed.
“Is it a snake?”
Head snapped to the other, the guess had rung true and the smile on the boy's face meant he knew it. Reaching for his wand he looked to see they were well and truly alone in the shop.
“I was right! You know, I was always a bit jealous of Slytherin, snakes are so much cooler than lions. Lions are just big cats that lay in the sun all day.”
If he hazarded a guess, at this moment that would be exactly what Nagini was doing. “You aren’t afraid of them?” It didn’t make any logical sense as to why he was adding to this conversation, perhaps it was because of how this boy was so foolishly Gryffindor. Not even fearing the death that would surely come from a venomous snake and this exchange.
“Nah, they aren’t scary once you get to know them.”
Raising an eyebrow he reached out and prodded the head of a chickadee, watching it wobble and nearly fall. “You wouldn’t want to ‘get to know’ mine.” He laid the threat at the boy's feet with a smile.
“What if I got to know you first?”
It had been so long since someone dared speak to him so casually, perhaps this boy should meet Nagini after all. Meeting green eyes he wondered again where he knew them from.
“Harry!” A voice called from outside. There it was again, that name. It haunted him.
A smile flashed to him. “I have to go. Let's meet again.” The confusing interaction ended as a messy mop of black hair turned away from him.
Had they truly never met before, perhaps they had passed by each other briefly at Hogwarts. No, that wasn’t it. Something was missing and he would not rest until he found it.
No paper arrived that morning as he had left the shop empty handed, lost in his musings.
The door to his room was cracked open. How, when his wards still held true. Moving into his room, he saw a flash, but no one was there. A well placed revelio, yet the intruder stayed frustratingly hidden, whatever they used to disillusion themselves was powerful.
“Who are you!” Angry spells were thrown before he had even finished yelling at the invisible being.
The window swung open, a flash of green from where the head should have been, followed by a soft voice. “Sorry.”
Readying the killing curse he sent it flying towards the window, it fizzled out past the yard, whoever was there was no longer.
The prowler was forgotten almost immediately as sirens blared, someone was trying to enter his wards. Rushing to the window, he looked out at the line of blue at his property line.
Acolytes, Grindelwald had finally realized he was a threat and had come for him.
Pressing his wand to his arm he called his followers. It was time.
Lord Voldemort moved with purpose to the front steps of his home, preparing himself for a real fight. His servants popped into existence one by one, already keyed into the wards, all but one, where was Goyle.
It mattered not as Grindelwald made himself known. Blue eyes met burgundy red.
Stepping forward he prepared a curse to rip, tear and render, when Grindelwald's head snapped to the side. A creepy blue eye found what it was looking for as Grindelwald took off running.
The rival Dark Lord seemed to be chasing someone, he ran off into the woods beside the Riddle estate, acolytes quickly following.
Left standing alone, the Death Eaters looked upon him, confusion in their eyes. Malfoy stepped forward. “Was that… Grindelwald?”
Making his way to his room, he looked again now with the lack of mysterious individuals. There, in the corner, his floorboards were pried up. Floorboards that had been heavily warded.
Dropping to his knees he looked through the trove he had hidden. The blue glittering diadem sat primly in its rightful place. Looking closer, there was just one object missing.
His ring.
The Gaunt ring, his second horcrux, was gone.
A Lord who never ran, now dashed down the stairs and to the edge of the woods the group had fled into. Who could it have been, Dumbledore? Was that why Grindelwald had arrived, he sensed his enemy here?
It made sense. He was surely powerful enough to enter the wards unnoticed and cast a disillusionment charm strong enough that even Lord Voldemort couldn’t remove it.
The Headmaster must have known he created Horcruxes and had come to destroy them. But why had he left the Diadem, had he been surprised by the arrival of the blonde haired Dark Lord?
There was no other explanation.
The Order knew his plans, knew how to destroy him, and were attempting to rid themselves of a second Dark Lord before he even stepped into the light.
He would kill Dumbledore for this foolish attempt. The old man would suffer a thousand deaths if harm came to his precious soul.
The paper had the image of Grindelwald running like a madman chasing nothing through Little Hangleton. “Dark Lord losing his mind?” Plastered across the top.
The only way to strike back at Dumbledore is to aim at his heart. And there was no heart more perfect then Hogwarts.
It was beginning to warm, May allowing in the summer heat. After religious studying, he believed he had a way to break the schools overpowered wards.
His Death Eaters gathered around him as they prepared for battle. They bowed low as they vanished one by one, followed by their leader.
Reappearing, there was commotion all around.
Had their presence already been noticed? Except, that wasn’t it, the wards, the unbreakable wards he had worked months to find a way around had been shattered. Their hold over the rolling hills no longer in place.
A voice, that of Gellert Grindelwald himself echoed in everyone's mind.
“I know that you are prepared to fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I don’t want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood.”
How! How had they been beaten here again! The voice continued its demands.
“Give me Harry Potter, and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded.”
Who the hell was Harry Potter. The Death Eaters looked equally as confused. Malfoy spoke up.
“Isn’t Harry Potter the one Grindelwald failed to kill as a babe?”
Lestrange perked up at that. “That's all codswallop. Made up by Dumbledore to cover up losing their duel.”
Children from the school ran past their gathered mass. They treated the gathered group of masked strangers as nothing more than a blockage in their path. The Death Eaters seemingly no threat to them as they stampeded past in haste.
There was no time for dawdling. Taking off to the school, Lord Voldemort would kill Dumbledore, get his horcrux and finally take the credit he deserved.
Stone steps clicked beneath his heel as he forced open the gargoyle statue.
He took off his mask to allow his to be the last face the senile old man sees. Voices floated through the door, he opened it to see three people standing inside.
A girl with bushy brown hair, the redhead who had slighted Bellatrix’s death and the boy from the owl shop.
They stopped their conversation as they noticed the interloper. The green eyed boy stepped forward, recognizing him right away.
“Hey! It’s you!”
He glared at the trio. “Where is Albus Dumbledore?”
The girl ignored him, instead whispering to her friends, “Do you know him? Who is he?”
Shaking it off, the overly familiar leader smiled. “Yea! He’s nice, don’t worry!”
Lord Voldemort was… nice? Before he could curse the boy for his cheek he was getting the response he waited on.
“Dumbledore is keeping Grindelwald busy while we get this.” He held up the sorting hat for some inexplicable reason. “Did he send you for it too?”
Why would he ever fetch the sorting hat for Dumbledore. “No.”
“Oh, in that case we should get it to him.”
He was stunned by their audacity as they headed towards the door, sliding around him as they went.
Before they were gone, the boy shouted back once more. “Hey, once this is over let’s get to know each other for real.”
There was a yell of “Harry!” And the trio was off, their footsteps slowly fading as they ran.
What… what had just happened?
He had no time for this, moving quickly he scoured the office, pouring finding charms into every corner, yet his ring was not found. Dumbledore went to such trouble to steal it, he would not let it stray far.
It may be on the Headmasters person.
Striding through the castle, he could see the battle raging through the passing windows. He would step in at the last moment, steal the victory and place himself as the greatest Dark Lord to exist.
Large oak doors parted for him, as he went relatively unnoticed through the crowd of battling wizards.
There right before him was Dumbledore and beside him a familiar back, one with oh so familiar curly hair. Grindelwald across from them was throwing every spell known to man.
Taking the advantage, Lord Voldemort threw a killing curse at the back of his longest living enemy. Damn fighting fairly, he would take the kill and rewrite this duel in the history books when he won.
It struck true, the Headmaster falling to his knees. A scream was directed at the wrong party.
“You killed him!”
The fighting pace quickened, the black haired boy, Harry, running forward, fighting with more power than ever before.
Grindelwald smiled, “It is a shame, but you are both meant to die today, Harry.”
That maniac had taken Lord Voldemort’s kill! He had taken the credit for the death of one of the greatest wizards alive! Moving forward he could still get the spotlight back, if he just could kill both of the others he would reign supreme.
That was his goal at least, until the moment it was shattered again.
Beyond all odds, Harry threw an expelliarmus that landed true, a wand flew into their air and landed directly into the boy's hand.
Grindelwald dropped to his knees. Giving up.
This was the Dark Lord Grindelwald? It was unexplainable, he hadn’t even lost yet, merely lost his wand, yet he acted as if he had been beheaded, his torso crashing into the cobblestones.
Holding the wand aloft, Harry announced his victory, cheers began all around.
Not yet, he could still- he would still! He was pushed back by the surge of people. Acolytes began their escape, and the injured were being carted off to recovery.
Searchers knocking him around as they called names, he pushed through, making his way towards the center.
There was still more fight, the battle was not over, the winner had not been declared! He could still!
Aurors appeared like flies before he could break free. They began, rounding up those in blue who didn’t escape. It marked the end as Grindelwald was tied up and taken away to Azkaban.
His chance, his moment of glory. Gone.
The paper didn’t even make it into his home, thousands of pieces scattering his lawn.
“Dumbledore slain by the former Dark Lord! Harry Potter saves the day!”
The ball was held in Harry Potter's honor. It’s a name he was truly sick of hearing.
Lord Voldemort looks his best in his formal robes as he enters. His plans may have been tarnished, but in the end it had managed to work itself out.
Dumbledore was dead, Grindelwald was locked away, and the world was ripe for the taking.
He had failed before, an ugly word for someone such as him, but he could learn from those mistakes.
Envious gazes fell upon him as he made his way through the throng of people. There like a king, was Harry Potter, greeting a long line of simpering nobles.
The boy looked out of his depths, bored, nervous and prideful all mixed together.
The realization that Harry Potter was the one from the store, was quite revealing. It made sense that someone so annoyingly charismatic would be hailed as the hero of the wizarding world.
Pushing aside those less worthy, he found himself at the beginning of the line, next to face the one who took his glory.
Upon noticing him, Harry gave a large smile. “Hey! It’s nice to see you again!”
Once more the hero was overly familiar. They were not friends, they were nothing. Soon though, soon they may be enemies, depending on where the chips fell.
“Hello Harry Potter.” Voice purring as a show to those around them, let them wonder, let them whisper.
“Someone you know?” The newly appointed minister was quite jovial, pushing at Harry’s shoulder in his amusement.
Fist clenched, he was Lord Voldemort, not just some random wizard. Once he ruled this Ministry and all others, no one would dare forget his name again.
“Yea, Tom and I go way back.” The bratty voice was sarcastic, obviously fed up from spending a day with such a bumbling fool of a minister. His eye twitched at the way he was called, but gave it no mind as a crowd was forming.
Lowering his sultry voice for the Gryffindor, “I would love to speak with you more later, when it's just us.” He would soon have the wizarding worlds ‘savior’ eating out of the palm of his hand, begging to serve him.
Reaching his hand out, he went to shake his new prey’s.
That’s when he saw it, the light reflecting off the black onyx.
The ring sat upon his finger, his ring, Lord Voldemort's ring!
“YOU-“
He tears the paper to shreds with his bare hands, the title blaring across the page.
“Fight breaks out at Grindelwald’s defeat banquet! Unknown Wizard demands Potters ring! Possible Failed Marriage proposal?”