"In our dreams we enter a world that is entirely our own." Albus Percival Walfric Dumbledore
It’s said he was born with riches beyond measure. His home sat on the tallest, most majestic hill overlooking the humble town of Little Hangleton. He was born with the love of his mother to
shelter him and the beliefs of his powerful ancestor Salazar Slytherin to serve as his guide. Yet for all the treasures Tom Riddle possessed, the one thing he desired most – the love of his muggle
father – was never to be had.
Orphaned, desolate and embittered by his father’s desertion, Tom would live the next eleven years of his life in a broken down muggle orphanage, where his distaste for muggles would continue to fester. Near his eleventh birthday, a wondrous gift was bestowed upon Tom – the knowledge that he was a wizard and an invitation to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. For Tom, the enchanting world of magic provided an escape from his pathetic muggle existence and, tragically, made his distaste of muggles grow into a hatred that would consume him for the rest of his life.
Lord Voldemort. . . no more than a figment of my own creation, Tom thought silently, and yet it is a name people will not speak for fear of invoking the awesome horror that is my power. Even his own followers, the Death Eaters, cowered in his presence, and dared not speak his name. He was known to them as Master, or My Lord, but not even those he trusted most chanced to speak the name he'd given himself. There was tremendous satisfaction in knowing that kind of power, and just thinking about it brought a terrible smile to his thin mouth.
With such terrible power came prestige and honor. He had the power and potential to one day conquer immortality, but first he had other business to attend to. The world he would rule in his omnipotent immortality would be free of those like his father…he would wipe the face of his world clean of muggles, muggle-lovers and the mud-bloods that came from such horrific unions. A vile feeling from the mere mention of the names and what they signified washed over him in an instant. Muggle. . . it was a horrid thing in his mind. Mudblood was even worse, for he knew in his heart that he was one himself. Dirty blood, tainted by his filthy, Muggle father.
He fought to control the emotions that welled inside him. Resentment, hurt and distrust had no place in his world. Those were muggle fallacies left over from the few traits he inherited from his worthless father. From his hidden position deep in the moss covered woods, he searched the midnight sky for it. A sign that would tell him his loyalists were waiting for him. A sign that would bring terror to all those who choose not to believe. A sign that proved his day had finally come.
As if on cue, it appeared, flaming through the night sky to beckon him forward. Emerald green stars, glittering like jewels, gathered to form a skull in the heavens.
He could see their faces in his memory. He remembered them all. Those he had killed, those he had tortured, those that had somehow managed to escape death at his hands. He could see his loyal followers most vividly. He had no idea what thoughts or emotions they held as they stood before him. Was it fear or loathing? Perhaps it was love or admiration? Even with all his immense powers, the inner thoughts and emotions of those that had faced him were hidden beyond reach for the mighty Lord Voldemort. He could only guess as to the reflections on their lives they may have made.
But you, dearest reader, will no longer have to guess. Gathered together, some of the most celebrated authors of HPFF will bring you into the world of love, laughter, sin and betrayal of those who have faced Lord Voldemort. Join us, if you will, and enter a story like you’ve never read before. A story of hope, forgiveness and loss for the characters you thought you knew so well. Step through the looking glass and let your adventure begin.
“These are the times that try men’s souls.” Thomas Pain
Aged 12 :)
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