Hermione stared down at the parchment on her desk, a scowl on her face. She never really cared for developing a nice handwriting. She only ever thought of writing as efficiently and fast as possible in order to make useful notes during classes.
Who would have expected that she would go back to the year 1944 at some point and need this skill?
Sighing, Hermione looked up at Professor Slughorn: “I can try as I might, I will never be able to produce a handwriting appropriate for a formal invitation, Sir. What am I to do?”
With an indulgent smile, the professor stepped behind her and took a look at the written lines. It was a quiet Saturday afternoon and as he had no other commitments, he had been all too willing to help Hermione write a formal invitation for her first salon. Slowly but surely, Hermine started to doubt that she would produce anything that met the standard of this time.
“You are too strict with yourself, Miss Dumbledore.” Slughorn chuckled. “Your handwriting is harmonious and legible. No one here expects you to be as accomplished in calligraphy as your fellow female students.”
“Are you sure?” Hermione asked. “It would already be difficult to persuade anyone to come. If my invitations aren't up to their standards, they definitely will not want to come.”
It was important that her first salon would be a success -- now more than ever. It was no longer just a matter of raising her social standing in the Slytherin house. Her life depended on it. Or at least, her physical integrity. She just had to gain the respect of all the other students that did not belong to Riddle’s inner circle. At least enough respect so that they would not follow every instruction by their head boy when he plotted openly against her. Tom was correct: It was important to be able to overcome an opponent by yourself, but clever people would always gather allies around them.
Currently, she was alone and everyone else was on Riddle’s side. It wasn't her goal to make anyone else his enemy. That was surely impossible. But she just had to try and find some people who would not antagonise her. She had to break his overwhelming, all-encompassing power.
“I would also be glad if your little gathering is a success,” Slughorn contemplated after a long pause. “It would be magnificent if the manners of older, finer societies could be established again. Young people simply don’t care enough for civilised manners. What do you think, Miss Dumbledore?” Slughorn suddenly sounded excited while he scratched his non-existing beard. “Perhaps your fellow students would care more for this salon if members of the teaching staff were present? Your uncle surely supports your endeavour and I myself, as you know very well, enjoy spending some time with the students outside of classes.”
A happy smile appeared on Hermione’s lips. When she had approached the professor after lunch, she secretly had hoped for an offer like this. She was aware that many Slytherin students felt left out for not being invited to Slughorn’s club. She assumed that many of those would jump at an opportunity to get to know him privately, even if it meant to go to the salon of an unknown, not very well liked Miss Dumbledore.
Carefully choosing her tone to sound surprised and humble at the same time, she replied: “You would go that far for me, Sir?”
With surprisingly elegant steps, Slughorn circled the desk and sat down in his big armchair near his fireplace. “You have not been here for long enough to know this, my dear, but there is almost nothing I wouldn’t do for my students. Even less so when it concerns my favourite students.”
This time Hermione didn't have to pretend to smile. The fact that her former professor had to witness one of his favourite students transform into one of the cruellest wizards of all time, perhaps only because he himself had enabled him at one point, had left its marks on him. This Slughorn on the other hand was still rather young, and for the first time she saw him as the motivated, warm, and authentic teacher he so desperately had tried to be in her own time. She definitely liked this version better.
Her voice full of warmth, she thanked him: “You truly are an outstanding professor, Sir. Hogwarts is blessed to have someone like you to care for their students. I am glad that you are the Head of the Slytherin House.”
Hermione could see how much her professor liked her compliment.
He raised one finger in playful sternness and reproached her: “Do not try to wrap me around your little finger, Miss Dumbledore. I know all the tricks of my little snakes. The more they compliment me, the bigger the favour they’ll ask for later.”
Leaning over the table and lowering her voice, Hermione replied, “To be absolutely truthful with you, there are reasons why I am in Slytherin. My sincerity, though, is not one of them. When I pay a compliment, I mean it. I despise everything else.”
With that, Hermione turned her focus back on the parchment in front of her. Quickly, she added a sentence about the attendance of Professor Slughorn and Professor Dumbledore as guests of honour. Her alleged uncle would surely be willing to help out once she explained to him why this salon was necessary. Then, she stood up and gave the parchment to Slughorn for one last examination.
His brows wrinkled as he read the lines several times before finally nodding. “You have chosen your words carefully indeed. Well done. I shall show you a handy charm to multiply this invitation as often as needed, if you like.”
Contented and relieved, Hermione nodded. The first step was done. Now, she simply had to make sure the invited guests would actually attend.
oOoOoOo
Tom looked down upon the five men in front of him, his face devoid of all expression. Every single one of them stood with their heads down, hands behind their backs, the gaze firmly fixed on the floor -- just as he had told them to. Today the circle of Avery, Lestrange, Nott, and Malfoy would be extended to the young Orion Black. The boy had surprised him with his sharp wits, something Tom had not expected to find in a fifth-year student. He was sure Orion would immediately understand what a great chance opened up to him here, if he decided accepted the offer. And Tom was sure he would.
“My most trusted friends,” he started quietly, “I cannot tell you how proud I am looking at this picture before me. Five young men stand before me. Five men, who are courageous enough to see that only those who act and interfere will change the world. Who are proud enough to honour the name of Salazar Slytherin. As heir to our honourable founding father, I say to you: I am proud of you. Together, we will create a world that Slytherin once could only dream of.”
While he spoke, Tom’s gaze was steadily fixed on Orion. The boy showed great discipline as he appeared calm and unmoved, even though many questions had to be racing through his head. Tom’s confidence grew. Louder, he continued: “Orion, today is your first time in this circle. I invited you because I admire your intelligence. What I have to offer you is nothing less than a place at my side. Every single one of the others present already accepted this offer. If you are willing to swear your absolute loyalty to us, we will gladly accept you as one of our own -- an equal among equals.”
Still, the boy did not move. A smile played around Tom’s lips. Abraxas obviously had instructed the boy very intensely to not look up until Tom explicitly allowed it. That he was able to follow these instructions even though curiosity had to be burning inside of him, proved that Orion Black would indeed be a valuable follower.
“We live in a world ruled by muggles. Its muggles who are currently engaged in a war on the content, a war that could not be more meaningless. Its muggles who, with their unruly thirst for knowledge and scientific advancement, try to blow open those doors that hide secrets from them they’re never allowed to know. Its muggles who are bringing the whole world closer to total destruction. And what do we, the society of wizards, do? We watch on -- we hide. I know I am not alone in thinking this, Orion, and I know you share my disbelief.”
Tom’s voice carried through the classroom while he slowly stepped along the edge of the stage that held the teacher’s desk. His friends stood below him, desks carefully moved to the side in this unused classroom as they stood beneath him. He was their leader and they accepted his superiority unquestioningly. It was exhilarating. He took a deep breath, forcing himself not to show the ecstasy in his voice.
“If you join us, you will be part of the revolution that will bring an end to this grievance once and for all. There is no reason that we wizards have to hide from the muggles. On the contrary -- our superior power demands that we show we are willing to accept responsibility for this world. Long enough we have ducked out of this responsibility and watched on as muggles did not only threaten their own society, but also started to infest ours. With great power comes great responsibility. Why have we never accepted this responsibility? Why have we allowed the muggles to taint our pure, powerful blood -- to soil and dilute it?”
It appeared that Orion Black’s discipline was not strong enough anymore. Tom could hear his excited breathing and saw excitement shine in his face. Contented with himself, he continued. “It is time that we stop this process. Even now there are only twenty-eight families left whose blood never mixed with that of muggles. Everyone of you belongs to such a family. It is our duty to stop the spreading of mudbloods before our magical abilities weaken so much that no wizard holds any meaningful power anymore. Muggles with the weapons of mass destruction bring not only their own societies to the brink of extinction, but also the wizarding world. They taint our blood, produce weak offspring with blood traitors, and all that while being so ignorant that it’s sickening.”
An all too familiar hatred rose up in Tom. He hated muggles. Hated them with every fibre of his being. They knew nothing and acted as if they knew everything. They did not see power when it was in front of them. Their horizon only reached the tip of their nose. His own father was the best example for a blind, weak idiot.
Breathing heavily, Tom stopped his pacing and turned his full attention back to the five men in front of him. His voice was scathing as he continued, “It’s time we wizards showed muggles our true power. That we take our rightful place as lords of this world. It’s time we finally accepted responsibility and took on the duty that our magic imposes upon us. We shall lead the wizarding society out of hiding. We shall show the world that we will care for it, that we will attend to every need. And we shall show the muggles that it’s not in their rights to rule.”
Slowly, Tom stepped down and directly in front of Orion. Purposefully, he placed one hand on his shoulder. “Orion Black, raise your gaze and look at me.”
Hesitantly, the boy raised his head. What Tom saw then in his face brought him grim satisfaction -- this wizard, too, burned for his vision. Quietly, but assertively, Tom asked, “Orion Black. Are you ready to swear loyalty to this alliance? Are you ready to acknowledge me as your master who will hold you accountable? Are you ready to swear fealty to me, whom you will call Lord Voldemort henceforth? Are you ready to sully your hands in the name of the wizarding world and a better future for everyone, if acts of stern punishment are needed?”
Fire burning in his eyes, Orion declared loud and clear: “I am ready, my lord.”
Smiling, Tom now placed his other hand on Orion’s shoulder, “Welcome to our alliance.”
Taking these words as their cue, the other boys left their stance. One after another, they took Orion’s hand to congratulate him and welcome them to their alliance. Tom stepped back and looked upon the group with cold satisfaction. For now, there were only five, but soon there would be more.
It would be years before he would reveal himself as Lord Voldemort to the world.
He knew that there would be a lot of resistance by those who did not understand how dangerous muggles were. Especially those from Gryffindor, they would surely try to resist him. That was why he had to make sure now that he would be untouchable once he announced his plans. His human body was a fragile cask. Regardless of how powerful he was, there was always the possibility that he ended up in a deadly situation. Time itself was his biggest enemy. He had to make sure he outlived time. He would become the first wizard to be immortal.
Shaking his head, he looked back at his followers. It was better to think about the problem of the Horcruxes when he was alone. A smile on his lips, he stepped back to Orion. “Outside of these secret meetings I, of course, will be known as Tom to you, my dear friend.”
Orion smiled back so openly and honestly, that Tom wondered for a moment whether this boy would be too sincere to follow him through to the end, but those doubts were cleared immediately. “I sincerely thank you for your friendship, Tom, but I am even more thankful for the trust you showed today. I will not disappoint you, ever. I understand what you have expected of me when you asked whether I was ready to sully my hands for you. Just as I was honest when I told you, I was ready. The world has been waiting for someone like you, and I feel immensely honoured that you chose me of all people to trust. From today until all eternity, the Black family will always stand behind you.”
He already knew that, but he decided not to say that out loud. He was still at the beginning, so he had to ensure that his followers felt as if he needed everyone of them and was thankful for their support. He could not yet show that their fealty was self-evident as far as he was concerned. He knew that every rational wizard would join his cause as soon as he explained it to them, just as he knew that every rational wizard would submit to him, because his superiority was beyond question.
The human mind did not work that way. Their pride was an obstacle he had to overcome. He was forced to act charming, thankful, and as if he depended on them. At least for now.
It was only a question of time until the families belonging to the Sacred Twenty-Eight acknowledged his leadership and would take pride in submitting to him.