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A Bend in Time

Before there ever was a boy that ever lived in a cupboard on Four Privet Drive, there was a similar boy in a far worse home that lived on Spinner’s End. We all know the tale of that abused boy who grew up to become a bitter spy. But not all tales end the same for in the many parallel worlds that exist in the universe there are far better endings, and equally as many worse ones. This is a tale of one such condemned universe that for better or for worse chooses to change its own fate at through the sacrifice of the bitter spy. (All rights to the Harry Potter world and characters belong solely to J. K. Rowling. However, I do claim creative fanfiction rights. Please do not post my fanfiction elsewhere without my express permission. This work will also be partially hosted at RoyalRoad, Wattpadd, and Archive.)

EsliEsma · Bücher und Literatur
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1221 Chs

Seeds of Doubt

After a series of wizard chess matches with Terry winning slightly over half of them, Rowan calls it quits. "I'm done for the night, my brain hurts," Rowan complained slumping further into her comfortable leather armchair.

Terry wickedly grins back. "For today at least, but who knows about another day!"

Rowan wryly grins and gestures to her twin brother. "I humbly offer Severus as a sacrifice to be at your beck in call in exchange for my freedom."

"I gladly accept!" Terry cheerfully said.

Severus rolls his eyes and grumbles, "That's only because we're roommates."

"Exactly," Terry impishly chimed.

Severus rolls his eyes and stomps away as Terry cheerfully waves goodbye to Rowan and trots after Severus. Rubbing her aching temple, Rowan hears a voice from behind her say, "Rough night, Prince?"

Rowan almost jumps out of her seat as her eyes hurtle open and she glances up at Lucius Malfoy. "No, it's just that Terry literally gave me a run for my galleons. He's quite the excellent wizard chess player," Rowan bluntly answered.

Lucius Malfoy nods his head in agreement before purposefully saying, "That may very well be the case, but I am here to invite you to an educational meeting in our debate over the future of the wizarding world with Professor Slughorn's express permission. Care to join us tonight?"

Rowan keeps her face nonchalant and answered, "Most certainly."

"Excellent, we will gather shortly, please remain behind as the common room will shortly be cleared," Lucius instructed.

And sure, enough no more than thirty minutes later the rest of the Slytherins had retired to their dorm rooms except for those invited to be in attendance. Though Rowan did carefully note that she was still the youngest member in attendance as the rest were fourth years and up. It didn't seem like recruitment of potential Death Eaters such as Avery and Rosier had begun quite yet.

"Excellent it seems as though we are all in attendance," Lucius said as he turns to face the sitting group in a circle. Of course, not before casting a spell over the common room lest unwanted ears try to listen in.

"Now, I have exciting news to share tomorrow on Hallows Eve, a great wizard will initiate an attack on the Ministry of Magic but lead the pureblood wizards into a new glorious era!" Lucius Malfoy exclaimed.

The Slytherin common room fills with shouts and cheers as a fifth-year boy with furry eyebrows and squashed nose, Gil Goyle says, "And what is our great Dark Lord's name?"

"Patience, Goyle, don't interrupt!" Narcissa Black snapped back.

Goyle flushes in embarrassment and mumbles, "My deepest apologies for my rudeness, Head Boy Malfoy."

"It is of little importance," Lucius smoothly said. "I can truly understand your desire to know our Dark Lord's great name."

Rowan's eyes flicker at those last words. Just how is Riddle receiving accurate information? It is not as though they can actively and openly correspond via owl. Rather it would be a high-risk venture. No, there must be some sort of meeting place that the parents of the purebloods would not mind their children attending. A place that furthers their power and connections.

Abruptly Rowan pales as the answer stares her straight in the face. The Slug Club. A place where outsiders could openly meet with prospective and talented students at Hogwarts.

"As promised from our last meeting, the Dark Lord's name is to be revealed. A wizard of great vision and power, Lord Voldemort!" Lucius loudly said.

Everyone lets out sounds of awe at the grand and powerful name as Lucius continued, "For not only is Lord Voldemort mighty and powerful but he is a pureblood and a descent of Slytherin himself!"

"Are we talking about the same, Tom Marvolo Riddle?" Rowan purposefully interrupted.

"Pardon me?" Lucius blinked in surprise.

"If you break down Tom Marvolo Riddle, you get, I am Lord Voldemort, I am wondering if they are the one and the same?" Rowan innocently reiterated.

"Well-," Lucius tactfully paused and glanced over at Narcissa for help.

"Even if that was his common wizarding name, what of it?" Narcissa fiercely exclaimed. "That does not change the fact that he will usher in a new era."

"I'm sorry to say, but I think this is all an elaborate ploy," Rowan argued spreading her hands in a purposeful helpless fashion.

"Stop lying and trying to spread doubts among us!" Vern Crabbe shrieked.

Lucius sighed in relief at the respite, but before he has a chance to speak, Rowan determinedly interjects, "I'm not lying I can prove the truth of my words."

This causes the other protesting Slytherins to become silent as Crabbe awkwardly glances around. "I don't if you recall, but I have become rather fascinated by Professor Slughorn's eyes for talent. And with his permission, I've been tracking down past members of the Slug Club and their current accomplishments. One promising such lad was by the name of Tom Marvolo Riddle, and even had the potential to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts," Rowan said.

"But what?" A curious Slytherin asked, before paling in embarrassment.

"I suppose he wasn't good enough as Professor Dumbledore rejected him for the post in 1967," Rowan plainly said. "And besides, I really do believe that the man you call Lord Voldemort is nothing but a charlatan, a clever imposter."

"And why is that, Prince?" Narcissa angrily snapped.

"Well, simply because he is a fraud in every way possible. He claims to represent purebloods but is only a half-blood. His mother, Merope Gaunt, a pureblood witch not only ran off with Tom Riddle Sr., a muggle but even used a love potion to force him to love her," Rowan scoffed with disdain on her face.

"Out of all the vile things, a pureblood like Merope could do, when she could have easily elected any wizarding family to marry into. But no, she elected to force herself onto a mere muggle, how utterly revolting!"

The room's atmosphere changes as Rowan continues, "Please, forgive me for my emotional outburst, but why else would Lord Voldemort change his given muggle name, if he wasn't pretending to be someone, he is in fact not? Tom Marvolo Riddle may certainly be a Slytherin, but I find it hard to believe that he is our savior. And most especially considering the fact that he lied about being pure blood. What utter poppycock!"

The room becomes icy silent as Lucius Malfoy calmly reevaluates the first-year Slytherin. After a moment of internal deliberation, he sets his pride aside. A Malfoy did not follow align himself with those of lesser bloodlines. It would be an utter travesty.

"Show us the proof, Prince," Lucius firmly ordered.

"Certainly, Head Boy Malfoy, just a minute," Rowan replied, before taking out her wand. Furrowing her brow in concentration, she points her wand at the girl's dorms. Thinking solely of her notes, she says, "Accio!"

Some of the older Slytherin members raise their eyebrows in surprise. The Summoning Charm is not part of the first-year coursework. Furthermore, it is a complex spell that even those of their age have difficulties with.

I'm sure that after this section, someone's going to be like why didn't the purebloods who knew Voldemort say anything to the Ministry of magic? Do they look stupid enough to do so? (Don't answer that.)

No one wants to be the scapegoat nor be pointed at as an accomplice! They're Slytherins for a reason.

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