Unofficial Portkey Archive

Hey everyone. This is kinda short, but it's a 2 part chapter. I will MOST DEFINITELY have the next chapter up within the next two weeks, though I'm shooting for shorter-espeically because this is only like 13 pages. Something big happens, but I think all of it is pretty important. Just my own back story for Voldemort-some you will be familiar with, some is new. Enjoy!

P.S. My "n" button on my laptop is being shysty so I'm sorry for all typos! I THINK I got them all. Haha.

I own nothing!

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: Voldemort's Past

"What quarrel do you have with your assignment, Wormtail?" Voldemort's malicious voice asked menacingly.

The short, balding man whimpered frighteningly, "Q-q-quarrel?" He stuttered uncomfortably.

Weak, fully dependent, and yet the malevolent smirk that crossed the-What? Spirit? Ghost?-Being's features was terrifying. "You cannot hide from me, Wormtail." The steely voice reminded his servant, sounding partially amused, partially insulted.

"I-I-I-I-I-I-I….w-w-w-what I-I m-m-mean-n to s-s-say is..I jus-s-t thought the M-m-mug-ggle parents….The b-b-boy's p-p-parent-t-s…all w-w-w-witho-out the pro-pro-prot-ttection of D-D-Dumbled-d-dore…" He could only brokenly whisper the powerful wizard's name in fear.

"Too weak." Voldemort's voice hissed vehemently.

Wormtail internally battled for a second over whether his master was referring to him, or the surrogates.

Voldemort-knowing his thoughts-answered cruelly, "Both!" He cackled mercilessly. "I understand your shortcomings. I can understand your lack of confidence in a wizard as ordinary-no, sub-ordinary- as yourself. But have some faith, you filthy rat, in your master's abilities." The spirit ridiculed, clearly insulted.

A dose of pain reminded the stuttering man of his place.

"Blood is important. I need both-as potent as possible. Do you not understand the Ancient Magic? I will not be able to touch him-I need his blood to return-more powerful than ever before. And the girl's…I do not think I need to stress to you the importance of her blood."

Wormtail took a step back while nodding, tripping over his own feet.

"The blood of Salazar Slytherin himself courses through the Mudblood's veins. The concentration, I admit, is not ideal. But, alas, it will only grow more diluted. I do not know when my next chance will come. She is Of Age. She has excelled in her Magical education. Now…it is time." Voldemort contemplated, more to himself then his audience of a servant.

"You are not sure my plan will work." It wasn't a question. Voldemort laughed a cruel, cold sound, causing a chill to shiver down Wormtail's spine.

"Never doubt a fool to behave…like a fool." Voldemort lectured. "Just as you should never doubt true colors to always shine through-one way or another." He laughed again sadistically as he caught sight of his reflection in a filthy, dirt-crusted mirror hanging on the opposite wall. Red eyes glowed brilliantly out of slits. Was he smoke? Cloud? A disembodied voice against nature, for sure. His gaze slid upward slightly and focused on a simple piece of torn paper, flattened from a previous crumpled-up state. "We cannot hide who we truly are." His voice was softer now, almost…condemned. "Just as you are a rat with an assignment." He concluded menacingly. "Bring me the boy."

Despair still on the weak man's features, he spun-still on the ground-and Disapparated.

The Dark Lord continued to stare at his reflection, now alone. His features were barely there-ready to disappear in a puff of smoke at any given moment.

But he felt stronger than he had in a long time-in almost seventeen years. Change was coming. Wormtail-though nothing more than a bumbling excuse for a wizard-had proved useful. He had gone and brought back vital information several times which paved the way for his plans.

Seventeen years he had been forced to wait in the shadows, not knowing a bigger plan was already in motion. Not knowing his savior was in fact born and waiting…waiting for the guidance.

When he had been…destroyed, he wasn't sure how long he would have to wait. He listened for a whisper of help, but none came. Wormtail had eventually found him, but he wasn't much better off.

He still needed a body.

He waited. And waited. Patience was a quality he had been blessed with, despite his malevolence. He had been able to dwell on his meaning, on what had brought him to this place. Perhaps, had he been born…differently, things would have been very different for him. The blood mix, however, was much too strong.

And he did not want to be different.

Merope Gaunt, his rather simpleton mother, had enticed his even fouler Muggle father, Tom Riddle, with magic. Love. He left her once the enchantment ended-had she grown guilty? Did she believe he truly loved her? Pregnant with his child, his tramp mother gave birth to him in an orphanage and died hours after. Voldemort made a gagging noise as the memories of unraveling the threads of his family tree came to mind.

After years of growing up in an orphanage, a long lost aunt had claimed him when he was seven years old.

Auntie Merewald Granger. And old, bitter woman. A strict woman. A woman with too many secrets. Secrets she entrusted in little Tom. She had been Merope's aunt. She had known…everything, thanks to a deathbed confession from Mildred Gaunt as she begged for Merewald to take Merope, apologizing for her selfishness. Her pleas were futile. Marvolo, despite his contempt for the child, would not let her go.

Merewald's sister, Eadwynn, had been Merope's mother. Had been Marvolo's victim.

While the Gaunts and Grangers were both decedents from Salazar Slytherin, they, like most old Wizarding families, had a feud between them. Marvolo Gaunt, an uncaring man with cold, malicious hands and a conscious to match, had kidnapped Eadwynn when she was just seventeen years old. His own wife, Mildred, could do nothing but watch in horror as he tortured the young girl. She would hide in her room with her young son, Morfin Gaunt, and pretend nothing was happening. Mildred was diagnosed with an incurable sickness that would claim her life all too soon. She didn't have the strength to deal with Marvolo's actions.

She couldn't deny the young girl's weight gain. Her morning sickness. Chained to a dirty mattress, always so disheveled. Hate for the girl-for enticing her husband-had taken a secondary response to the maternal reaction she felt for the poor child. She tried to nurse her back to health as the pregnancy continued. Marvolo was indifferent. An heir. Another son to carry on the name.

When a baby girl was born, little Eadwynn cried. She knew this was not what Marvolo wanted. No, she didn't want to please the man, but she knew that the baby would no doubt be slaughtered.

Eadwynn begged Mildred on the night Merope was born during a raging storm for her to take the child to her sister. Merewald would care for the infant, she had promised.

She was weak. Infection spread through her body. She knew she had only agonizing hours left. A knife lay on the bedside table. With the last of her strength, she ordered the older woman, "Tell him you had to cut it out of me," and with that, she plunged the knife into her stomach.

Mildred was lost. The young girl was no longer breathing. Her husband would be returning soon. She used the bloody knife to make a convincing cut-taking too much pleasure in her work, as part of her still hated the child, barely Of Age.

Marvolo had been upset with the sex of his new child. He told Mildred to take care of it. They didn't need another mouth to feed. He would dispose of Eadwynn's corpse himself. He grabbed a shovel.

However, Mildred knew she was not able to have any more children. As her illness spread, she knew her body could not bear the burden of it. She had always wanted a baby girl.

She plead with Marvolo, and after much convincing, he had allowed her to keep this stranger's baby. Her best argument had been that, one day, this disease would take her life, and he and his son would need someone to care for the house and see that they were taken care of. She knew the life of slavery she had bargained for dear Merope, but she was selfish. She knew she should have given the child to Merewald, but what would the woman do to her? What if she hated the child for being the product of the torture and rape of her very own younger sister? No, she couldn't do that.

Mildred cared for Merope as her own, despite the blood relation saying something completely different.

Marvolo, however, had been her father. Marvolo Gaunt. Boastful of his ancestors. Fueled by hate for his daughter, who didn't turn out nearly as beautiful as her mother. Her magic ability was lacking. She'd slave the day away in the house, but nothing was clean. Mildred had not taught her well enough before she had died just weeks after Merope's ninth birthday. During a brief visit with his grandfather, Voldemort had uncovered that much. He could see clearly the abuse his mother had endured. The abuse his grandmother Eadwynn had been subject to. His aunt Merewald could tell him all the stories she wanted, but it was nothing like experiencing it. Experiencing the wickedness and repulsion of which his mother was spawned.

His grandfather was his first murder. His Muggle father, for abandoning his mother and even him while he was still in the womb was his second. The grandparents he never had, the grandparents who never wanted him were next. The rich family that could have spared his life in the orphanage, the life with his terrible, hate-fueled aunt who took him in only so she could torture him. Mold him into exactly what she wanted to intact her vengeance. A vile woman, Auntie Merewald did not shy away from harsh reality, nor did she expect little Tom to.

"You are vile, Thomas. You are the creation of a disgusting man. He took my sister's innocence-your grandfather, Marvolo Gaunt! Do you understand me, Thomas? Do you understand how filthy you are? You will not turn out like him. I'll kill you myself." She swore vehemently, staring down at the small boy with obvious disdain. "Now go clean your room. God hates a boy who can't keep clean. Laziness is for the Devil, Thomas, do you hear me?!" She ordered, pointing to the door that led to the cold, dark basement. The boy quickly stumbled down the stairs, knowing the light from the windows wouldn't last much longer, and he had only a little time before he would be trying to clean up in the dark-and he was very much terrified of the dark.

Voldemort scowled and turn his gaze away from the mirror. His memories, however, could not be ignored as easily.

"Thomas! Where have you been?!" His aunt screeched angrily.

The little boy trembled. "I found a cave, Auntie Merewald. I was exploring."

"You evil little demon. Get your things packed. You know you start school tomorrow. I'll be glad to be rid of your wretchedness for awhile. And remember, you keep your mouth shut at Hogwarts and your head down. We don't need you to cause even more problems."

Voldemort's nostrils flared as the memories flashed before his eyes.

"I want you do something for me, Thomas. Your scoundrel of a grandfather is out of Azkaban. I want you to go to Little Hangleton. Remember what he did to me dear sister? Don't you think he should pay, Thomas? Don't you think she should pay for what he did to your mother? He hurt her, Thomas. He forced his ugliness inside of her. He tortured an innocent child!" She reminded him, leering.

A young boy of sixteen, brainwashed and beaten, abused and tortured, could only agree. Of course he wanted the vile tramp to pay, and pay by the tip of his wand. "I will go, Auntie Merewald. For you, and for me." He assured her with a handsome smile and dark eyes that, despite his sheltered life, had already seen too much evilness-usually by the hand of his own aunt.

His aunt smiled proudly. "Good, Thomas. You must make up for this. You've been exposed to his immorality. To save yourself, you must excise yourself of his demons. Give them back so he can take them to Hell. Remember, you are disgusting. Get rid of the wickedness so you can be saved."

Handsome Tom Riddle nodded, understanding.

"Your father is in a manor in Little Hangleton. Perhaps you should pay him a visit as well. The Devil himself can sort him out." She hinted, the wrinkles in her face doing nothing to hide her real intentions, malicious as they were.

Young Tom Riddle learned early that looks can be deceiving.

Voldemort looked around the pathetic room. The woman was poor. She was insane. She could not offer him any better life than the orphanage-only more beatings.

But she tried, for the sake of her own ends.

Being back in her house caused him discomfort. He was ready for her to die. He knew if she didn't go soon, he would do it himself with his new body.

Feeling particularly violent, Voldemort eased from his chair, a mere shadow of smoke barely holding together. He leisurely made his way up the stairs, only on the surface contemplating the state of his existence. "Nagini." He hissed, and the answer was a loud thud of his serpent hitting the ground before slithering towards the stairs.

Inside her bedroom, he slowly compacted himself into a dense smoke. She looked up from her bed, graying and sick. Rosary beads sat on her bedside table. In his presence, the shaking frail woman reached over and grabbed the crucifix. "Get out," her voice pled, trembling.

Voldemort tilted his head to the side, not caring if she could distinguish the movement or not. As Nagini came into view, Voldemort watched in delight as his aunt's eyes grew round. "Do not fret, Auntie Merewald." He purred before hissing to Nagini in Parseltongue.

The giant snake eased onto the bed and slowly encircled the paralyzed woman, doubling around her frail neck.

"Does it hurt, Auntie Merewald?" Voldemort asked in sinful pleasure. The woman gagged in response.

As much as he enjoyed the terrified look on her face, Voldemort called Nagini off. The snake loosened her grip on his aunt and instead, just lay there, curled around her menacingly.

Voldemort sighed and decided to sit at her bedside, leering over her body. He wanted to knock the rosary beads from her quivering hands, but knew the futility of the attempt. He was much too weak. He shouldn't have punished Wormtail-it had taken a lot out of him.

"You're disgusting." She heaved, her breathing shallow.

"So I have been told." Voldemort replied chillingly.

When Wormtail had told him of the news of his long distant cousin, Hermione Granger, hope had burst forth. It was exactly what he had been oh-so-patiently waiting for. And he would wait, here in the house he hated, for just a little while longer wishing death on the woman in front of him in the meantime. He would be her demon until she drew her last breath, a reflection of exactly what she had done to him. She always talked of his sins…she was dying and she felt saved by God himself. He liked to remind her, mercilessly, of her own transgressions. "Do not worry, Auntie Merewald…I will kill you soon enough, and then you can fry in the pits of Hell with my grandfather." His voice was light, conversational-very unlike his usual hiss.

He lingered by her side, his mind now on the paper attached the cracked mirror on the first floor-a small token of hope that his plan would indeed work.

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Guileless son,
I'll shape your belief
And you'll always know that your father's a thief
And you won't understand the cause of your grief
But you'll always follow the voices beneath

Guileless son,
Each day you grow older
Each moment I'm watching my vengeance unfold
For the child of my body, the flesh of my soul
Will die in returning the birthright he stole

"Moredred's Lullaby" HEATHER DALE

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A rat faced through the dark streets of Hogsmeade and disappeared into one of the many holes in the foundation of the Shrieking Shack. Familiar pathways stretched out before him as he covered a surprising distance at his speed. Wormtail managed to scramble from the roots of the Whomping Willow at the base of the old tree. Next, he scurried his way across the dark lawn and found a weak stone that granted entrance into the familiar school on his third-and final-surveillance mission.

It was just after Twilight. Wormtail scampered down the familiar corridors and up the staircases. He waited outside Gryffindor Tower behind a tapestry until a straggling student finally called it a night and returned the Common Room. Wormtail dashed inside and into the Common Room. His tiny eyes surveyed the room quickly, looking for either familiar face in the firelight.

Neither Harry Potter nor Hermione Granger was here. He went up the Boys' Staircase first, but found Harry's bed empty. Agitated, he went to Hermione's solo room. Empty as well.

He would wait. He went back to Harry's dormitory and hid under his bedside table.

He watched as the other boys came in and talked of tomorrow's Quidditch match. They commented on Harry's absence with smirks on their faces.

Wormtail perked up his ears, but he had already missed it.

Finally, with only the other boys' snores to keep him company, Wormtail drifted off into fitful dreams himself.

He woke to a bedside table shaking slightly, as if it had been struck lightly. Wormtail scurried forward and saw his target. Harry Potter eased his clothes off, a brilliant smile on his lips. He hopped in bed happily and pulled his blankets up to his chin.

Wormtail was confused. His mood was…completely opposite compared to his last mission. Surly, moody, angry because of a row with Hermione Granger. Now, he seemed light, buoyant, and optimistic. His cheerful demeanor frustrated Wormtail. He has missed something. He would be punished for this. Even in his Animagus form, the man visibly cringed.

Wormtail glared through beady eyes the offending student and quickly bustled back his hiding spot. He would have to wait, he knew. He could not rush into this. He did not want to rush into this. Kidnapping a student from Hogwarts…what was the Dark Lord thinking?

Wormtail woke early in the morning and stretched leisurely, working the kinks from his small body after his uncomfortable night's sleep. His beady eyes took in his surroundings and suddenly, he was alert. The circular dormitory was empty. Just the night before, the boys had been talking about a Quidditch match today. Without wasting any time, Wormtail rushed from the dormitory and headed out to the familiar pitch.

It was still early. The rat made his way to the locker rooms. The Potter boy was on the team. He would tail him until Granger came into view. He suddenly skidded to a stop when he saw James and Lily Potter, along with Sirius Black, conversing with their son just outside the locker rooms. Sweat-even in his Animagus form-began to bead along his tiny forehead. If they saw him, they would no doubt be able to recognize him in a second. Careful not to come into view, Wormtail slowly, almost minutely, slunk forward in the shadows. Fear gripped him even more so when Sirius loud, barking laughter reached his perked ears. To calm himself, Wormtail focused on Lily Potter. She was still so beautiful. Memorized, Wormtail chanced another few inches forward to get a better look.

In school, he had always been the nervous boy, the klutz. He was completely unremarkable. He counted himself lucky to be able to call Sirius Black and James Potter his closest of friends. He was forever envious of their friendship, of their coolness. He would have done anything to be adored even a fraction of what they were. When James had gotten Lily…gorgeous, lovely Lily, it had only been one more thing to be envious of. Wormtail felt heat rush to the surface of his body as he thought about them, about how jealous he was. How many times had he hid in the shadows, the shameless pervert, to watch them together snogging secretly in the Common Room when they thought they were alone? Or when he followed them on their nighttime strolls, sneaking peeks. He'd venture to say he knew Lily's body almost as well as James did. Memories flashed before his eyes of Lily torturing James with a striptease, of a brassiere-clad Lily lying on James's bed while James slowly began to unzip her jeans and his hand disappeared somewhere in them while he hid under Sirius's bed-forever the voyeuristic, pathetic mate getting graphic images he could enjoy later alone in his bed- completely invisible to the two lovers and hating that he had to be in his Animagus form. If only he were human, like last time when he hid secretly in the closet, he could-

"Let's go find a good seat, dear." Wormtail was shaken from his reverie from Lily's voice. He watched, barely breathing, as Lily-How long had it been since he'd last seen her? Wormtail's eyes raked greedily over her body.-as her beautiful emerald eyes narrowed and her lips tightened. As his hungry eyes lingered on the lovely Lily, he almost missed the familiar voice he was looking for.

"Are you saying you'd be upset if you hadn't been standing out here and I had come in to wish you good luck?" Hermione Granger asked innocently. Wormtail's eyes bulged. What was this? Frantic, he crept forward quickly and perked his ears, determined not to miss a word.

Harry looked as if he was going to argue, but thought better of it.

The two students standing with Hermione, Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom who were fellow Gryffindors, both wished Harry the best of luck and walked away.

A whistle blew somewhere, signaling it was almost time.

Wormtail continued to watch the awkward scene: a nervous Harry, a consolingly shy Hermione. She leaned over to give him a long hug, then she pressed her lips to his cheek. "I won't wish you good luck-you're too talented for that." She said, her cheeks slightly flushed. Wormtail was suddenly reminded of Lily and James. He tried to shake the slow heat that began to creep back into his face as he stared at Hermione now in Lily's place, enjoying the smooth texture of her legs that were revealed I her capris before his eyes moved to the curve of her breasts. Back to the matter at hand, he stared at the pair of Gryffindors more intensely as if the reason behind this sudden truce would appear out of this air.

Another friend came into view, Luna Lovegood from Ravenclaw, and after a quick good-bye to Harry, Wormtail followed the two girls to their seats. He sat under their seats for quite some time before growing restless and dashing for the stairs. He didn't need to really tail them anymore. That wasn't his mission. His mission was to abduct.

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Voldemort sat in his chair, unmoving yet restless. He waited. He could hear Nagini slithering somewhere nearby, hissing about a rat just out of her reach.

Three days. Wormtail had been gone for three days. For his previous missions, this wouldn't have been a big deal. He was simply watching, looking for something to help them with the task at hand. How lucky it was for the nitwit to stumble upon exactly what they needed under a bedside table, innocently wasting away with dust bunnies. His red eyes involuntarily looked up at his token of hope.

For a long time, Voldemort stared forward into the mirror, seeing nothing. It wasn't until a loud crash sounded from the other room that he moved. "Nagini," he hissed, sending the snake to check out the source of the commotion. A minute later, Wormtail came wheezing into the room, pulling someone by their shirt collar and dragging a kitchen chair in the other hand. A black bag was covering the prisoner's face and Voldemort saw the sudden reason for the guest's cooperation: Nagini had coiled herself menacingly around his arms and midsection. While the boy could not technically see her, surely he could feel her sheer muscle and hear the threatening hiss so close to his face. "Good job, my precious Nagini," Voldemort purred softly in Parseltongue.

Wormtail sat the chair down so it was facing Voldemort and roughly pushed the boy into it, careful not to touch the giant snake.

For several long seconds, nobody moved. Finally, Voldemort nodded. "Let us not be rude, Wormtail. Take the bag off his head and let us welcome our guest properly."

Wormtail loosened the drawstring and tugged the black bag free, revealing the disoriented seventeen year old boy.

Uh-oh! Haha review and I might put it out sooner!!!!!!! Also, I wrote/finished a story called Outlet recently, so if you haven't checked that out, I suggest you to. I've heard good things about it.

Please review!

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