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TTRC: Power At LastI am Lord Voldemort.
The pathetic Muggle man who I was foolish enough to idolize in my childhood fell two months ago. The imbecile took his own life after his kingdom fell around him. This will not happen to me, for I will create a realm that will be indestructible, a realm where I reign and I am immortal.
Normally, this extent of hubris leads to be one's downfall, but I am not normal. I am incredible, extraordinary, and it is finally recognized around me by those close to me. My name is no longer common. Rearranging the letters of Tom Marvolo Riddle, I have created a title and introduction for myself I am Lord Voldemort.
A small group has gathered to me for guidance in my great purpose, to rid the world of those who do not deserve to live in it. They call themselves the Knights of Walpurgis, an ancient group that was active during Salazar Slytherin's time who feel hostility towards Mudbloods for the torture and grief they caused our kind. After letting a few come to me, I bring
TTRC: Murders and HorcruxesI will live forever.
I will not die. Death is for those who are weak, who do not have power, and I will have it, even if I do not have it now.
I search for my wizard family, my magical ancestry, hoping to find answers. My mother came from a completely pure-blooded line of wizards and witches. Even though she had been a useless Squib, as well as a blood-traitor for bestowing her affections upon a Muggle, surely the family she had come from was much more reputable. From my research, the Gaunts were indeed a very powerful family, but had fallen off the map for decades. It worked to my advantage that they had been laying low.
Unfortunately, I was to be greatly disappointed.
Two of them are left, and they are deplorable beings. One is my grandfather, Marvolo, a miserable and bitter old sod, while the other is a vicious man, Morfin, my uncle. I get the information I desire to find my father's line when the ring Marvolo is wearing catches my eye. He reveals that it is a family heirloom, passe
TTRC: Opening the ChamberMuggles deserve nothing.
They certainly don't deserve magic. They deserve to be slaughtered like the stock they are especially my father, a coward who deserted my mother. My mother, despite being of the purest wizarding line, was absolutely pathetic in any case. If she had been a true witch, she would have been able to avoid dying.
I see many people like this around the school. Not Muggles, but they may as well be Mudbloods, born of two Muggle parents, running around as they wave their wands to play at being magical. It does not matter, for I am not fooled, and I take matters into my own hands.
Through painstaking research, including many night trips about the castle thanks to my recently acquired Prefect badge, I find the Chamber of Secrets, a creation of Salazar Slytherin that has not been opened since he himself was here. Of course only I was intelligent and talented enough to locate it. Using the Chamber for its true purpose, I unleash the monster within a Basi
TTRC: Dumbledore's VisitI have met someone who does not fear me.
It is disconcerting.
His name is Albus Dumbledore, and he also has abilities beyond everyone else I've met. They are not as magnificent as mine; however, he teaches at a school that specializes in educating students with similar powers.
He has made it very clear that the tactics I use to survive, as well as for entertainment, will "not be tolerated". The stealing, the lying, the terrorism I inflict on others must stop, he informs me.
This is but a small concern, for I have always been talented at covering my tracks.
Less than three months after that, I am in Hogwarts, the school Dumbledore had told me of. My ability is called magic, and the entire castle practically pulses with all the magic and power it contains. I have been Sorted into Slytherin, one of the four Houses that Hogwarts is separated into, and by far the best one. Salazar Slytherin, I find with research, is my ancestor I am his last living descendent. His ideals appeal to me
TTRC: Growing Up in the OrphanageI am special.
I know this, despite the other children's attempt to shun me.
It doesn't matter. I am better than them, above them. I know this because my abilities make it so that I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to without training them, and I can make bad things happen to people who are mean to me I can make them hurt if I want to.
The imbeciles I am forced to share water, food, and bed with have finally caught on to this in the past couple of years. I hung a dear pet rabbit up in the rafters, and even traumatized two of my enemies into permanent silence on an orphanage field trip. When snakes come to talk to me, I have made a habit of setting them on my peers occasionally, as I have the advantage of being able to talk back to the reptiles in their own language.
I finally have the wide berth I desire. People are pathetic, inadequate, feeble. Pitiful. Finally someone in a nearby country has realized this and is climbing to
HP: The Baron's LessonIt is the time of the Hogwarts Founders, a time when those actually named Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin lead Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Even at this time, anyone who has stepped onto the grounds knows who Peeves is, except at this point, he is only a ghost. Not a poltergeist, as you know him to be one thousand years later. A ghost. In fact, Peeves is the residing ghost of the Slytherin dungeons and proudly represents the House. He is mischievous, has a certain disregard for the rules, and is his own master. Often, students would go to their resident House ghost for advice. The students Sorted into Slytherin knew better. Peeves gave incorrect directions to a destination when asked, but occasionally gives accurate instructions just to throw them off. He likes making students walk through him, either because they have no other choice or because he cuts them off at just the last moment and they don't have enough time to change direction.
Peeves also enjo
Alpacas, Vicunan, and Guanaco, Oh My!Penelope tilted her head as her eyes traveled over Ezekiel, who shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny. Maybe scrutiny wasn't even the right word for it scrutiny, at least he would know part of why she was looking at him. But this just seemed to be a gaze that happened to be observing him carefully. Scrutinizing.
Ezekiel shook his head. I need to stop hanging out with her so much. He grimaced. I don't even remember how she even convinced me to come here.
'Here' was a little, out-of-the-way coffee shop. No one else was here, except for the asleep hobo in the corner booth (who Penelope had asked a few days ago if he'd tried moving in with the Berkowitz's Ezekiel still hadn't managed to fully convince her that Ziv was his sister by blood), and a rather obnoxiously obsessive compulsive businessman who was in here every day at exactly five oh seven for exactly four minutes. The one time Penelope had attempted small talk well, Penelope's version of small
Red Riding HoodI want to believe people so badly when they say they won’t bite
that I contemplate climbing into their smiling jaws
thinking that it might be better to be split in two than left hanging.
But always, I draw my red hood and flit back into the forest
running in the shadows of pathways, never stepping into clearings
because I’ve spent my whole life in the wilderness
and I still can’t tell the wolves from the woodsmen.
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