The Enemy of my Enemy

The Memory, Part I

"Can't imagine he'd have been pleased with her choices," said Harry.

"From all that I have been able to discover," said Dumbledore, "Marvolo never mentioned Merope's name existence from that time forth. The shock of her desertion may have contributed to his early death— or perhaps he had simply never learned to feed himself. Azkaban had greatly weakened Marvolo, and he did not live to see Morfin return to the cottage."

"And Merope? She . . . she died, didn't she?" Harry asked. "Wasn't Voldemort brought up in an orphanage?"

"Yes, indeed," said Dumbledore. "We must do a certain amount of guessing here, although I do not think it is difficult to deduce what happened. You see, within a few months of their runaway marriage, Tom Riddle reappeared at the manor house in Little Hangleton without his wife. The rumour flew around the neighbourhood that he was talking of being 'hoodwinked' and 'taken in.' What he meant, I am sure, is that he had been under an enchantment that had now lifted, though I dare say he did not dare use those precise words for fear of being thought insane. When they heard what he was saying, however, the villagers guessed that Merope had lied to Tom Riddle, pretending that she was going to have his baby, and that he had married her for this reason."

"But she did have his baby."

"But not until a year after they were married. Tom Riddle left her while she was still pregnant."

"I dislike him even more," said Teddie. "I don't care if she tricked him into marrying her, you don't abandon your child, regardless of the circumstances."

"What went wrong?" asked Harry. "Why did the love potion stop working?"

"Maybe she stopped giving it to him?" Teddie suggested. "Over time, a potion does wear off. Merope would've have to keep administrating it. Maybe she got fed up with doing that, or maybe she thought he would stay with her simply because she was pregnant?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I, too, believe she thought that he had grown to love her despite the effects of the love potion," he agreed. "We now know, on both accounts, that she was wrong. He left her, never saw her again, and never troubled himself to discover what became of his child."

"Starting to sound vaguely familiar," said Teddie. "I mean, regardless of all the effort that Professor Snape and Caroline did to disguise me as a normal Muggle, Avery had the means to find me if she wanted to. For eleven years, she searched high and low for her master, without a care that her daughter was out in the world somewhere."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Avery may not be capable of love, and neither is Voldemort," said Teddie, "but, they're happy to want me simply because of the power I can offer them."

The sky outside was inky black and the lamps in Dumbledore's office seemed to glow more brightly than before.

"I think that will do for tonight," said Dumbledore after a moment or two.

"Yes, sir," said Harry. He got to his feet but did not leave.

Teddie offered him a confused look as she turned away from the desk. "Aren't you coming?" she asked.

"Sir," said Harry, turning to Dumbledore. "is it important to know all this about Voldemort's past?"

"Very important, I think," said Dumbledore.

"And it. . . it's got something to do with the prophecy?"

"It has everything to do with the prophecy."

"Right," said Harry. He turned to go, and then turned back again. "Sir, am I allowed to tell Ron and Hermione everything you've told me?"

Dumbledore considered him for a moment, then said, "Yes, I think Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger have proved themselves trustworthy. But Harry, I am going to ask you to ask them not to repeat any of this to anybody else. It would not be a good idea if word got around how much I know, or suspect, about Lord Voldemort's secrets. "

"No, sir, I'll make sure it's just Ron and Hermione. Good night."

"That goes for you, too, Miss Green," said Dumbledore. "You may only tell your inner circle."

Teddie nodded. She hadn't planned to tell anyone except her friends, anyway. Apart from Theo, Blaise, Daphne, Astoria, and Mason, everyone else was too afraid of her to care.

The two students headed for the door. Teddie grasped the handle, pausing only as Harry gasped. She turned to see him staring at a little spindle-legged table that supported several frail-looking silver instruments.

"What is it?" Teddie asked.

Harry didn't reply. He merely turned to Dumbledore. "Sir, that ring -?" he started.

"Yes?" asked Dumbledore, looking their way. He was sitting behind his desk.

"You were wearing it when we visited Professor Slughorn the other night."

"So I was," Dumbledore agreed.

Teddie furrowed her brow as she looked between the two. What did this have to do with anything they had just discussed? Besides, she was starting to get tired. She still had a ton of homework to get through before tomorrow morning.

"But isn't it. . . sir, isn't it the same ring Marvolo Gaunt showed Odgen?"

Dumbledore bowed his head. "The very same."

"But how come. . . have you always had it?"

"No, I acquired it very recently," said Dumbledore. "A few days before I came to fetch you from your aunt and uncle's, in fact. "

"That would be around the time you injured your hand, then, sir?"

"Around that time, yes, Harry."

Harry hesitated. Dumbledore was smiling.

"Sir, how exactly-?"

"Too late, Harry! You shall hear the story another time. Goodnight."

Harry sighed and turned to Teddie. She met his gaze and shrugged, still terribly confused by what Harry and Dumbledore were talking about. "Goodnight, sir," he mumbled.

"Goodnight, Miss Green," said Dumbledore, pleasantly.

"Goodnight, Professor," Teddie replied. She twisted the doorknob and pulled open the door, stepping out ahead of Harry and hearing him close it behind them.