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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 · หนังสือและวรรณกรรม
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1224 Chs

Midnight Snack Ⅱ

Down a corridor with an ugly gargoyle, there is a rather unusual sight to be seen. The two small figures of two house-elves can be seen before the large stone gargoyle. The house elves in question are Toppy and Habbey.

Habbey clears his throat to gain an ounce of courage, "Honey Toffee." To their vast relief and utter dread, the wall split in two to reveal a spiral-moving staircase. The two tiny elves hop onto the moving spiral staircase as the wall thudded shut behind them. They rose higher and higher in circles as the two elves did their best to not become dizzy or puke.

Finally, a gleaming oak door appeared with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin. The two house elves glance at each other, before stepping forward towards the oak door. Habbey raises a trembling arm and knocks thrice.

"Oh, do come in," Dumbledore's voice said from within.

The two house-elves cautiously enter to find Dumbledore hunched over parchment writing some sort of letter. They remain quietly still as they wait for Dumbledore to finish. While they wait, the two house elves rather wide-eyed gape.

The headmaster's office is a large, circular room full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls are covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom are snoozing gently in their frames at the late hour. There is also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and sitting on a shelf behind it is a shabby, tattered wizard's hat, the Sorting Hat.

Standing on a gold perch is a rather handsome bird with wonderful red and gold plumage, Fawkes, the phoenix. Fawkes calmly observes them with gleaming inquisitive eyes. Phoenixes, after all, are not only highly intelligent magical creatures, but quite loyal too.

Habbey and Toppy take a step back at the sight of the large, proud fiery bird with rather sharp claws and a pointed beak. Toppy cleverly hides behind Habbey the entire time, who tries not to show his fear. Yet his quivering frame says otherwise.

After some time, Dumbledore finally finishes and sets his quill down allowing the ink to dry on the parchment. "My sincerest apologies," Dumbledore apologized as his child-like blue eyes twinkled from behind his half-moon spectacles. "I sometimes forget myself. Now, what can I do for the two of you this fine evening? Is all well in the kitchens?"

The two tiny elves warily glance at each other until Toppy nudges Habbey forward. Habbey drily swallows as he squeakily says, "Headmaster Dumbledore," Habbey pauses as he clenched his tea-time toga to gain courage.

"We would like to better our service and as such we are requesting the payment of two silver sickles per month and one day off per month for each elf. However, we will ensure that the kitchen is always staffed and have days off in scheduled shifts."

"Oh?" Dumbledore muttered with curious eyes as he leaned back in his seat. "And just what will your days off be used for?"

Habbey's ears slightly wilt, but Toppy steps out from behind him to reply, "To better our service, Professor! It has been centuries since we have gone out into the world and much has changed. Not only food but even presentation. We are even told those muggle butlers, not only properly train, but they are the pinnacle of servitude! We cannot tolerate such words, but tis our own fault, we have lost our spirit to serve. We must regain that spirit and improve! We cannot be left behind!"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkle with delight and some other emotion as he says, "Then both requests are granted. I expect you to all work as before and to continue to keep the kitchens properly maintained."

"Yes, Headmaster!" The two elves chorused in delight.

"But might I inquire, why the change all of a sudden?" Dumbledore inquisitively asked.

Toppy and Habbey glance at each other unwilling to betray their benefactor. Finally, after a minute, Habbey murmurs, "It has come to our attention that we need some variety in our recipes. Apparently, though our cuisine is the best of the best, that is not to say that there are other cuisines that can rival ours."

"Well, in that case, please do allow me to taste some of these delicious recipes," Dumbledore truthfully said, "Especially the sweets."

"We have a tres leches cake that we are planning to serve tomorrow for dinner," Toppy excitedly interjected. "We shall ensure an entire cake is properly delivered, Headmaster!"

Dumbledore purses his lips as he clumsily says, "Trez-le-chis?"

"Yes, it is a very delicious cake," the two elves chimed in firm belief despite never having prepared said item before.

"Then I look forward to it," Dumbledore said with a chuckle.

"Thank you, Headmaster!" The two tiny elves chimed as they deeply bowed, before quickly departing from which they came.

Dumbledore watches the two tiny figures depart as he muses out loud, "I wonder which student snuck off into the kitchens? What do you think, Fawkes?" Fawkes lets out a chirp as if saying, "What do I care as long as you share?"

And as if understanding Fawkes, Dumbledore replied, "Excellent point. But still, I do look forward to the new array of treats." Fawkes cries out in agreement as Dumbledore returns to reading the letters on his desk.

In the corner of his desk is a carefully kept copy of the Daily Prophet from a few weeks earlier with the title, "Azkaban wizard found innocent! Innocence proved by Abraxas Malfoy!" Perhaps, Dumbledore kept it out of curiosity, but truth be told it was all because of the name of a former student, Tom Riddle.

Dumbledore's eyes crinkle fondly behind his spectacles as he reads a letter from Dedalus Diggle, a former student, now in his early twenties. Quite the excitable little man always wearing a purple hat. Reading the letter, Dumbledore quietly chuckles, before putting the letter aside and reading a more somber letter from Alastor Moody that had already been read several times before.

"To Headmaster Dumbledore,

I was assigned to track down a former student, Tom Marvolo Riddle. I'm sure you've seen and read a copy of the Daily Prophet. If not, I have enclosed a copy just in case. I am currently in the process of trying to gather information on him. I am wondering if you happen to know of any friends or acquaintances, he still might be in contact with or places he might seek refuge in.

I have been seeking information on him and I've found that he was missing for ten years until some years ago he popped up again. I've heard that not long after that he requested a teaching position at Hogwarts. Might I ask, why you denied his post? I understand that you must have seen something the rest did not see as all that all I've asked that knew him are horrified and can only say with pity say, he was such a nice young man.

Really, you would think he was quite suave from their descriptions. What utter rubbish! As if a monster cannot learn to hide its true colors under the cover of good. But do pray and tell, Dumbledore, why did you not fully trust the boy? What did you see?

Please reply as quickly as you can, Dumbledore. I fear dark things are stirring and the order that you once spoke about might be what is needed. I know you believe me paranoid, Dumbledore, but trust me, when I say this, that boy is not only a Dark Wizard but a danger to the wizarding world itself! You may not believe me now, but I know and fear that time will prove my words true.

Sincerely,

Alastor Moody."

Dumbledore carefully puts the letter as he clasps his fingers together in deep thought. Tom Marvolo Riddle, just what have you become? And despite the lateness of the hour, Dumbledore remains in the silent candlelit flickering light long into the night.

Albus Dumbledore......I greatly dislike him at times, but I can't say that as a General I wouldn't have sacrificed the same chess pieces. And that is the truth of the matter, no matter how much I may sometimes rant about his decisions.

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