Post by admin on Jun 10, 2007 1:45:24 GMT 7
- - THIS IS FOR K E E P S - -[/font]
There were many things that Tom Riddle despised about the world he lived in and the calm of the streets was one of them. There was an unusual air of reassurance sifting throughout the streets, offering both security and comfort to those within the community. Comfort had been lingering since the fall of the great Grindlewald, signifying a turning point in terms of peace and prosperity. The wizarding world was under the belief that now, after many years of struggle, their troubles were gone. Dark magic still existed, sure, but the threat that had once loomed overhead had been diminished at the hands of Albus Dumbledore. While there were still criminals roaming the streets, the evil that had once infiltrated its way into the hearts of all had long since vanished. Tom Riddle wasn't even a household name. And, if Riddle had anything to do about it, it never would. Lord Voldemort was finally ready to emerge, gaining the power that he had been anticipating since his first days at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The rising Dark Lord was more than a little disturbed by the fact that his deeds had gone unnoticed. But, they wouldn't for long. Soon enough, the name Lord Voldemort would be considered far too vile to even speak. Fear would soon be inflicted upon each and every unassuming soul, too naive to even suspect the havoc that would soon be wreaked upon the world as they knew it.
He had a plan. He'd had a plan since that first afternoon Albus Dumbledore had met with him. Once he'd learned that his godforsaken biological father had been a mere muggle and his mother, having descended from Salazar Slytherin, himself, a worthless squib, Tom Riddle had merely been biding his time, awaiting the opportune moment to strike. He'd gathered an alliance, a group of young men and women who had grown to oblige to his every demand. More than anything, he'd desperately desired a position at Hogwarts, having grown an unusual attachment to the place he'd grown the most. Hogwarts had been his home for seven years and he'd had every intention of remaining within that castle following graduation. He had the experience and the qualifications. He was more than fit to become the next Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and, yet, Dumbledore had turned him down. He had known Voldemort's ulterior motives in desiring such a position. He had known that a small army would be built and the students of Hogwarts wouldn't be learning defense from the dark arts, but rather how to use them. The request had been a mere courtesy. Whether Dumbledore hired him or not, Lord Voldemort had every intention of collecting a group of followers, personally training them to carry out his biddings.
The traitors would be the first to go. The Longbottoms, the Weasleys, the Prewetts, and even the Potters. Voldemort intended to bring some reform to society, diminishing the line between good and evil. There was to be no choice. You were either with him or against him, in which case you would shortly be dead. 1977 was surely going to be a year the world would remember. The world, as he and the rest of the community knew it, would be changed. No longer would the nights be quiet and calm. No longer would the world be unassuming and comforted by the silence. Voldemort was out for blood and he wouldn't be satisfied until he had it all. Albus Dumbledore could have made the process so much simpler by merely accepting his request for a position at Hogwarts. But, now, he was prepared to achieve his means the hard way - he would be playing for keeps.
There were many things that Tom Riddle despised about the world he lived in and the calm of the streets was one of them. There was an unusual air of reassurance sifting throughout the streets, offering both security and comfort to those within the community. Comfort had been lingering since the fall of the great Grindlewald, signifying a turning point in terms of peace and prosperity. The wizarding world was under the belief that now, after many years of struggle, their troubles were gone. Dark magic still existed, sure, but the threat that had once loomed overhead had been diminished at the hands of Albus Dumbledore. While there were still criminals roaming the streets, the evil that had once infiltrated its way into the hearts of all had long since vanished. Tom Riddle wasn't even a household name. And, if Riddle had anything to do about it, it never would. Lord Voldemort was finally ready to emerge, gaining the power that he had been anticipating since his first days at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The rising Dark Lord was more than a little disturbed by the fact that his deeds had gone unnoticed. But, they wouldn't for long. Soon enough, the name Lord Voldemort would be considered far too vile to even speak. Fear would soon be inflicted upon each and every unassuming soul, too naive to even suspect the havoc that would soon be wreaked upon the world as they knew it.
He had a plan. He'd had a plan since that first afternoon Albus Dumbledore had met with him. Once he'd learned that his godforsaken biological father had been a mere muggle and his mother, having descended from Salazar Slytherin, himself, a worthless squib, Tom Riddle had merely been biding his time, awaiting the opportune moment to strike. He'd gathered an alliance, a group of young men and women who had grown to oblige to his every demand. More than anything, he'd desperately desired a position at Hogwarts, having grown an unusual attachment to the place he'd grown the most. Hogwarts had been his home for seven years and he'd had every intention of remaining within that castle following graduation. He had the experience and the qualifications. He was more than fit to become the next Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and, yet, Dumbledore had turned him down. He had known Voldemort's ulterior motives in desiring such a position. He had known that a small army would be built and the students of Hogwarts wouldn't be learning defense from the dark arts, but rather how to use them. The request had been a mere courtesy. Whether Dumbledore hired him or not, Lord Voldemort had every intention of collecting a group of followers, personally training them to carry out his biddings.
The traitors would be the first to go. The Longbottoms, the Weasleys, the Prewetts, and even the Potters. Voldemort intended to bring some reform to society, diminishing the line between good and evil. There was to be no choice. You were either with him or against him, in which case you would shortly be dead. 1977 was surely going to be a year the world would remember. The world, as he and the rest of the community knew it, would be changed. No longer would the nights be quiet and calm. No longer would the world be unassuming and comforted by the silence. Voldemort was out for blood and he wouldn't be satisfied until he had it all. Albus Dumbledore could have made the process so much simpler by merely accepting his request for a position at Hogwarts. But, now, he was prepared to achieve his means the hard way - he would be playing for keeps.