- 1 -
"Chocolate Frogs." Harry murmured to the eagle statue, which jumped to the side a second later.
He was tired — Snape looked everywhere for an opportunity to give him detention, Ron and Hermione still avoided each other like the plague, and he still had no idea how to get this memory from Slughorn.
As he dragged himself up the staircase, he thought of an excuse why he still didn't have it. Harry knocked on the office door and was soon called in by the Headmaster's familiar, calm voice.
"Good evening, Harry." Dumbledore greeted him from his chair, "Please sit down." He added and pointed to the chair standing in front of his desk.
Harry closed the door and made his way through the office when he noticed something on the desk — alongside the usual silver instruments, the bowl of Dumbledore's favourite sweets, some books and parchments, vials containing a silvery shimmering liquid stood on top of the dark wooden surface. Sitting down, they were at the same eye level as him and stared at him judgingly, as if they wanted to remind him of his failure.
"Professor, I–"
"–haven't found a way to get the memory from Professor Slughorn."
Harry shamefully looked down at his feet.
"If you did, you would have come to me the second you got your hands on it."
"I'm sorry, Professor."
"I have faith in you, Harry. You will find a way. Nevertheless, we will have to continue with our journey through Voldemort's past." Dumbledore said, eyes shifting to the gleaming vials. "These memories belonged to an incredibly smart and determined girl, always respectful and friendly to others."
Dumbledore got up, walked around his desk and took the vial from the far left. The Pensieve was already floating next to them. Harry got up as well and watched Dumbledore pour the memory into it. The memory turned into an ink-like substance and slowly took on a hazy image. Harry dipped his head into the Pensieve and soon felt the familiar tug, lifting him out of reality and into the memory.
Harry was standing in a library, the library of Hogwarts. It had barely changed and was completely empty. Nothing surprising, it was already dark outside.
Just as he was about to turn to Dumbledore and ask him if they were in the right place, he heard a giggle, undoubtedly coming from a girl. Dumbledore headed in the direction of the giggles. Harry quickly caught up with him.
They passed the many bookshelves until they reached the barred doors of the Restricted Section. Following Dumbledore who apparently knew where to go, Harry soon saw the source of the voice.
"I mean it, Tom, stop bothering me. I still have to finish this." You scolded, trying to suppress your laughter to sound serious.
To say that Harry was shocked by what he saw would be an understatement.
None other than Voldemort — or rather, Tom Riddle — was standing right behind you. He was bent forward so that your heads were on the same level. He brushed your hair aside, slowly revealing the eagle of Ravenclaw on your robes, and slowly kissed your neck up and down.
"You can do it later." He groaned, his voice muffled against your skin.
"You know I can't. I put it off until now and it's due tomorrow."
"You can copy mine."
"No, I can't. Slughorn will notice it."
"He will ignore it. He loves you."
"No, Tommy, he loves you. I'm just his second favourite."
Tom let out a frustrated groan and buried his face into the crook of your neck. "I told you how much I hate it when someone talks back to me."
You laughed at his antics. "And I told you you would get bored. You didn't have to come."
"You'll need me when someone catches you outside of curfew." He countered half-heartedly, nuzzling his face deep into the crook of your neck.
With an eye roll, you tapped the badge on your chest. "Did you already forget I'm a prefect too?"
Tom ignored you and lifted his head slightly to watch your feather scurry across the parchment.
"Why don't you take a look around? Maybe you will find an interesting book." You suggested after a while.
When you got no answer, you sighed and wriggled out of his grasp, got up and disappeared between the gloomy bookshelves. You came back five minutes later and handed him a book.
"You told me you were fascinated by such things. I stumbled upon it a week ago." You looked up at him and smiled.
Tom's lips curled slightly upwards. Anyone else would have missed it, but not you. Your smile grew even brighter.
You pulled him down to meet his lips for a quick peck before sitting back down on your chair.
"Thank you, darling."
He sat down casually on the chair next to yours, flipped through the book and flew over most of the pages. After a while, he stopped and began to read with an intrigued expression on his face. He suddenly seemed interested and he immersed himself in the written words. Then he looked up and at you, an expression on his face that Harry didn't like at all.
That must have been the end of the memory because Harry was back in Dumbledore's office again. His brain tried to comprehend what just happened.
Voldemort had someone, a person who looked at him as if he put the sun, the moon and the stars onto the sky. And in return, he had kissed this person, had clung to them as if they would disappear if he let them go even for a second.
Harry just met a completely new side of Voldemort, one he never expected to exist, one that was impossible to exist.
Voldemort had been soft. Or at least softer than one might imagine a cold-hearted, loveless and ruthless mass murderer to be. It didn't make any sense.
Dumbledore watched the conflicted expression on his face intently as the wheels kept turning in his head. "I believe you have some questions."
Harry startled out of his thoughts. "I… Voldemort…” He stumbled over his words, not knowing to which question he wanted to have an answer first. "She was his girlfriend?"
"Yes. (Y/N) (L/N) was, as I already told you, an astounding student. Not only had her fellow Ravenclaws admired her, but almost the entire school. Very honest and responsible. Ideal for the role of a prefect, as you've seen, and later even as Head Girl. It was impossible for Voldemort not to notice her. There had been a rivalry between the two of them from the beginning, as they were fighting for the title of best student. As you know, Tom Riddle was a great student with remarkable grades and was loved by his teachers and classmates. So was (Y/N), indeed, a very gifted and talented witch. However, when he saw there was no possibility for a breakthrough, he charmed his way into her life, but not with a little resistance from her side. She was probably one of the fewer people who were suspicious of him."
"But she was still with him?"
"She was a 16-year-old girl who fell for the handsome and strange boy who was fascinated by her. A girl like her had many admirers, but he was the only one who could challenge her and was intellectually on par with her. In a way, she was also fascinated by him. Both were an interesting mystery to the other and they were eager to solve it."
"So he was playing with her?"
"To be honest with you, Harry, I don't think so."
"Then what is it?"
"Love."
Harry looked at Dumbledore as if he had just expelled him from Hogwarts and sent him back to the Dursleys. "But I thought…"
"It wasn't typical love, the type of love we both know. It was more of a mix of mutual understanding, admiration, trust and something deeper. Just because Voldemort is incapable of loving someone, it doesn't mean he was emotionless."
"It's hard to believe that Voldemort cares for someone else."
"For someone who didn't experience him in his school days, it's easy to say. She had a not insignificant influence on him." Dumbledore said with a smile before sitting back in his chair.
Harry did the same and asked, "What happened to her? I mean, if she and Voldemort were a couple, she could help us find the Horcruxes! After all, she let you have her memories. Do you know where she is?"
"Unfortunately, Harry, she died a few years ago. The reason for that was, in fact, these memories." Dumbledore pointed to the remaining vials. "She came to me one year after your parents died."
Confused, Harry leaned forward in his chair. "Why?"
The older man looked at him over his glasses, his eyes glittering, before looking back at the memory containing vials like it was the most obvious answer.
Harry bit his lower lip, nodding. "Right."
"However, if you were actually asking about the specific time, then the answer is just as simple. Like some of Voldemort's other followers, she was cautious. Death Eaters were hunted and imprisoned, after all. They also didn't know if he might come back to reclaim his power. So, she waited a year before she came to me."
"And she gave you the memories just like that?"
Dumbledore shook his head before he hoisted himself up from his chair, his blackened hand shaking like a leaf in the wind being under so much pressure.
"Not back then, no. At first, she was suspicious of me, considering I could call the authorities the second she stepped on school grounds. Understandable since she was just as much hunted by the Aurors as the rest of Voldemort's followers, but I promised her no harm would come to her as long as I lived."
Harry shifted in his seat, a frown on his face. "Why would you do that, Professor? Why would you offer that to someone who was as close to Voldemort as she was? Why would you put someone under your protection who murdered and tortured innocents?"
"And how do you know she did all that, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes gleamed as he looked sharply at the boy.
Harry, feeling scolded, averted his eyes and merely shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what else to do.
So what if this girl wasn't like the man who murdered his parents? How should he know? People who were involved with Voldemort were neither good nor innocent. You could have been very well a second Bellatrix.
Dumbledore, who had already taken the second vial and poured the memory into the Pensieve, nodded at his silence and smiled knowingly.
"Don't view her as any enemy, but as an ally instead." He said and Harry had to suppress a scoff. "Without her, we would know much less about Voldemort and how to go against him."
Harry nodded reluctantly and got up from his chair to join Dumbledore again. He looked down at the swirling inky substance that slowly started to take shape and he could already recognize silhouettes of a fire-lit room.