To whom it may concern,

By the time you read this I will be dead, my only hope is that you expose the greatest dark wizard of our time and destroy his horcrux, in the hope that he will one day meet his end.

Harry Potter thought he had learned all of Albus Dumbledore’s secrets the night before the Dark Lord fell, but the believed to be deceased wizard had shared his biggest secret with nobody, except his friend and noted dark wizard Gellert Grindlewald. The desire of the two young men to ascend to positions of ultimate power and overturn the statute of secrecy did not wane as they grew older, but rather intensified and grew in malevolence. Both men desired the Deathly Hallows in the belief that they would grant them immortality. However, they both knew that there could only be one master of death, and so Dumbledore educated Grindlewald on the subject of horcruxes. After much argument and deliberation it was decided that Gellert would have the Hallows and Albus would have horcruxes. Now all that was needed was a sacrificial victim and a vessel to contain the soul fragment. I do not know what the vessel is. I can only speculate that it may be the phoenix Fawkes, or perhaps Dumbledore made the vessel a completely random object, so that it may never be round. The identity of the horcrux aside, the choice of victim must have been an easy one.

After the funeral of Arianna Dumbledore, Grindlewald and Dumbledore went their separate ways. This was of course part of the plan but the two men were in nearly constant correspondence. The Hallows remained to be found, and it is likely that during the years they spent apart, resentment began to grow between the pair. Grindlewald’s frustration at not yet achieving immortality caused him to act rashly and eager to prove his power, he began his string of murders. Meanwhile Dumbledore was living up to his status as head boy and had secured employment at Hogwarts within a few years.  It wasn’t long before he set about concealing the horcrux books under the false pretence of protecting students from their contents. His real plan was to prevent any other student from following in his footsteps and posing a threat to his ascent to power.

The resentment between Dumbledore and Grindlewald must have reached its peak when Gellert announced himself as a dark lord and began to gather a significant 
following independent of Albus. This was not part of the plan and Dumbledore must have assumed that Grindlewald did not want to share power. Urged by the international magical community and no doubt by his own fury at Gellert for betraying him and had obtaining the Elder Wand without informing him, Dumbledore challenged and beat Grindlewald in wizard combat. Now he had a horcrux and one of the hallows, and was soon offered the post of Headmaster at Hogwarts which he gracefully accepted.

Dumbledore was offered the position of the minister of magic on many occasions and would have accepted, if it wasn’t for the one man who posed a threat to his sole dominion. Dumbledore had often suspected Tom Riddle of attempting to access the horcrux books during his time at Hogwarts but had grossly underestimated Tom’s ambition and magical prowess. Eager to maintain his favorable opinion in the eyes of his fellow wizards Dumbledore fought against Lord Voldemort as best he could, and was among those praised the highest when Voldemort was ‘defeated’ in 1981. Voldemorts downfall was not good news for Dumbledore who strongly suspected that Riddle had made horcruxes and this meant his plan to seize control was again delayed. 

You will of course be familiar with the story of Harry Potter. He was and still is a good man and righteous to the core. What made it easy for Dumbledore is that good men are predictable and easy to manipulate. It had been nearly eighty years since Dumbledore created his horcrux and his greed in obtaining the resurrection stone meant that his horcrux would be put to the test. When Harry Potter met with Dumbledore 'inside his head’ on the day Potter was 'killed’ little did he know Dumbledore had been inside him since the previous summer. When Dumbledore’s soul had been ripped from his body by Severus Snape it latched onto Harry Potter much like Voldemort’s had when he had failed to kill Harry back in 1981. When Voldemort destroyed his seventh, unintentional horcrux he did not destroy Dumbledore who was using Harry as a host body not as a horcrux, much like Voldemort used Quirrel. 

The rest of the story remains uncertain. But what I do know is that the recent strain of attacks on muggles and muggle-borns is because of the direct or indirect actions of Albus Dumbledore in whatever form he is taking. I have scoured the Forbidden Forrest for the resurrection stone but it is gone. The portrait of Albus Dumbledore at Hogwarts has been vacant for ten years. It is the only portrait of Albus Dumbledore in existence which suggests to me that Dumbledore has returned to a physical body once more.

It occurred to me that these facts were not absolute proof of his return. That is why I searched Dumbledores tomb this evening. A body was there, but it’s nose was not broken and it’s hand was not withered. It was not the body of Albus Dumbledore. I can only imagine that in the time Dumbledore spent separated from his body he forgot the minor details that a historian like myself would not. There is no recorded event of the tomb being penetrated other than when Voldemort took the Elder Wand. Everyone on the wizarding world regarded Dumbledore as a hero and would have no reason to disturb his tomb. The only explanation, is that Dumbledore returned to his original body and left a doppelganger in it’s place. 

As you may not be aware the cloak of invisibility was stolen from Albus Potter during his first year at Hogwarts, and the perpetrator was never caught. Having seen his father disappearing under the cloak on many occasions I am familiar with the shimmer of the cloak as it is thrown over the body. Upton my return to Hogsmeade I witnessed this same shivering just outside of the Hogshead pub. I heard screams from the pub, I thought I heard 'he’s dead, Dumbledore’s dead’. This of course was in reference to Aberforth Dumbledore. Then I saw it, a withered black hand, as though floating in mid air, it was pointed at me. Then a face appeared, it was horrible but distinct, the eyes glowed red in the darkness, the eyes of a soul torn in two. It was Albus Dumbledore. At that moment I knew, I knew the truth of things. Before he could strike me down I disaparated to my home and began writing this letter.

I suspect I shall be murdered before the night is over. But if you are reading this then I implore you to stop Albus Dumbledore. I am sorry for the crudeness of this letter and that I could not be more helpful. Knowing Dumbledore’s ability, his ascent to power would be even more great and terrible than that of Lord Voldemort or Gellert Grindlewald. He must be stopped.

Yours in Faith,

DLM 

17th December 2017

love how the script writers got slughorn from creepy old dude who collects people like trophies and formed a weird obsession with Lily when she didn’t want to be in his club to she gifted him a goldfish

Okay, I honestly don’t get it when some of you guys say that without Regulus the horcrux would’ve been destroyed sooner.

Like, do you think he was supposed to somehow forsee that almost 20 years later someone might have thought of doing the same thing, and hence should’ve decided against swapping the lockets? Have you ever met anyone that far-sighted? Because I haven’t. You just do what you have to do, here and now. (At least he wasn’t a procrastinator 6.6)

And if anything, it was Dumbledore who’d managed to discover the cave but failed to realise someone had already been there. Not saying it was necessarily his fault, but it definitely wasn’t Regulus’ fault either.

I guess what I’m trying to say is blame the circumstances and not someone who tried his best and basically died, hoping that it would help Voldemort’s “match” defeat him in the future.

That’s it. I needed to make this clear. Thanks for your attention. Bye.

Chapter 1 of The Strategist, “The Professor And the Madman” available on FFN and A03

Pairing: Ron and Hermione

Rated M

Summary: The Horcrux Hunt reimagined where Ron uses his mind, Hermione is brilliant rather than just logical, and Harry chooses instead of just being the Chosen One. Read Here: FFN|AO3

Preview:Ron nodded and squared his shoulders. “Well, I won’t take up too much of your time, sir. Sir, I’m aware of what you gave Harry about…You-Know-Who.”

Ron watched the professor’s face go white. “Sir, believe, I’m not here to give you a hard time about it,” he said quickly. “I just want your help with something.”

Professor Slughorn’s back straightened. “I’ve already given Harry everything.” His voice was stiff and dismissive, but Ron didn’t have time to get upset.

“I know. But I was just wondering, is there anything else you know that might be helpful. You see, Harry’s going to try and destroy all of the Horcruxes. That’s right, he did make Horcruxes, sir. Six of them, apparently.  I’m going with Harry. Me and Ms. Granger. Is there anything you know that may be able to help us? Anything about Horcruxes, anything about You-Know-Who. Dumbledore said you were his favorite teacher.”

The professor scoffed. “Ah yes, my claim to fame. The favorite teacher of the Darkest Wizard our world has ever known. What a nice epithet that will be, I’m sure. Of course, Harry would go for the Horcruxes. He’s Dumbledore’s man through and through.” Slughorn turned thoughtful for a moment. “That may not always be a good thing, mind you. Sit down, Weatherby.”

Ron did as he was told.

without me? | ron b. weasley(request)

summary;you and ron say goodbye.

tagged;@partr1dge<3

word count; 1.6k

content;this is really fucking sad, arguing, angst galore, making out, mention of horcruxes, no foreplay y'all i’m sorry, unprotected sex (let’s say she’s on birth control), sad sex(smut), riding, fluff/angst.

a/n;i know this is serious but now i can’t stop thinking about all those fuckboy memes like “a haha….. fuck, without me?” also this physically hurt me to write !! i’m sorry anon, this is way too sad, and i know you mentioned them having their first time, but i hope you don’t mind that i changed the story a little so they were together for the ‘last time’!!

you and ron had been arguing, and yelling, and crying, for hours now. it wasn’t intense, nor heated. it was cold, it was brash, it was heartbreaking and earth-shattering. you could feel a harsh weight in your chest much akin to a gaping hole that made your limbs feel heavy, and your head hot. that made you feel utterly weak. your face felt warm and swollen from all the tears that had run down it, and his cheeks were flushed pink, face blotchy.

you think, now, that you weren’t really that angry, just desperate. you just wanted an excuse, to create an argument, an argument that could very well have been your last. and you wanted to make him feel the way that you did, being left here while he went off to get himself killed, at least a little bit. but not too much. merlin, you wouldn’t have wished this feeling of hopelessness on anyone else.

ron weasley had a strong heart, so strong that it chipped away at himself with every person he loved. his friends, his family, you.

and he had a strong head on his shoulders, determined, courageous, yet burdened by endless insecurity.

and you loved him.

your voice cracked for what felt like the millionth time, as the argument reached its shallow peak, where you two were just silent, before finding another reason to argue again, “why can’t i just go with you, please, ron?”

“you wouldn’t be safe! i’ve told you this, it’s bloody dangerous!”

“you say that as if i haven’t always gotten you out of something dangerous! i was there when you got those stupid scars up your arms, i was there for you —”

“i know, i know—”

“merlin, ron, i’m always there! i’ve always been there when you do stupid shit with harry and hermione!” you pointed to your side, as if an invisible audience were observing you, “why on earth is it — is it up to you to decide now that you want to protect me?”

“because i don’t want you to get hurt, not because of me!”

“well, you’re doing a pretty fucked up job of that.”

you both swallowed, then sighed heavily, sitting down on his bed. he sat, hands clasped in his lap, body tensed. you pressed your hands into the mattress, leaning over it and letting your hair fall down into your face. this was so messed up. reaching over silently, without looking up, you took his hand in yours.

“don’t go,” you croaked, “i love you.”

“i love you too.” he whispered, not trusting his voice not to crack if he spoke any louder. but he didn’t give you an answer. he didn’t need to. you both knew there was no turning back on his decision, that it was something he had to do, that it was something you’d have to accept.

sniffling, you finally lifted your head, looking over at him with tears blurring your vision. you picked up his hand in yours, brushing your lips over it, and shutting your eyes.

he took you in his arms, gently grasping your jaw and kissing you softly. when he pulled away, you carefully pushed him back to you, fingers ghosting the nape of his neck as you both tilted your heads, breathing ragged, cheeks wet. you could taste the salt in your mouth as your tongue swiped over his, not in a battle for dominance, but a cautious waltz of need.

you climbed into his lap, bending down to meet his lips, arms wrapped tightly around the nape of his neck, desperate to just be close. he clutched your waist, kissing down your jaw to your neck, not feverishly, tenderly — he wanted to memorise every piece of you, and guard it with his life. for you, he would. for you, it was worth it. it was worth everything.

sliding down your tank top to your hips, he placed more wet kisses to your exposed breasts, paying attention to the way your chest rose and fell, licking over your nipples and suckling gently on the buds as you slowly rolled your hips into his.

you didn’t want to think of it as a goodbye. but he’d left you no choice, informing you just a day before his departure that he’d be going to hunt for horcruxes to help his friends. and it was such a selfless thing to do, and it was so ron, running into a battle with no armour on. it was an act of wavering courage. yet you couldn’t help but feel fury burst through you, entangling with your worst fears, your pity, your desperation, your sadness.

you wanted to keep ron weasley protected, away from everyone else, away from hurt, away from the trials of life and death. it was unrealistic, but you craved it nonetheless, and you let that want course through your veins, blood burning. you could feel it in your wrists, at your pulse, at your throat, in your stomach, simmering. these were shallow, scalding waters that you waded through, knees giving in, heart giving out.

he moved you to the centre of the bed, taking off his shirt and letting it fall to the ground; you studied him for a moment, broad shoulders, freckled skin — you thought he was beautiful. then you eyed his arms as he leaned over you, covered in deep, white scarring, circling up to his bicep, the cause of the scars even having lashed out at his waist, licks of ivory decorating the sides of his torso. and, pulling your tank top and shorts down, his eyes devoured all the newly exposed skin too.

you didn’t speak — you couldn’t speak. your hearts were still aching and this was merely a distraction, a last dance.

he trailed desperate kisses down to your waistline, then hooked your panties down, kissing over your inner thighs, making you squirm. then to your hips, and your waist, lengthening the distance between you and what you wanted most.

not wasting another second, he kicked off his own pants and underwear, and slowly dragged the head of his cock over your slit.

he found his voice somewhere, buried in the pit of his stomach.

“are you ready?” he rasped, swallowing.

“mhmm.” you nodded, and wrapped your legs around him, hands grasping his shoulders as he eased himself in, just like he’d done many times before.

you groaned quietly together, closing your eyes and savouring the feeling one last time. you clenched tight around him as he set a slow pace, hips gently thrusting against you, both letting little moans slip from your mouths, throats dry from all the shouting and crying. the feeling of fullness enveloped you as he thrust in as deep as he could go, making you gasp and wrap your arms around him tighter.

“so good for me, love. feels so good.” he muttered between pants, the words only making you pulse around him tighter. you had a bizarre urge to both cum and hold off as long as you could so this would go on as long as possible, as long as you needed him on you, inside you.

the sex was soft, bittersweet, filled with random kisses, both rolling your hips against each other. sometimes with ron, it was urgent, needy, desperate, brutal. and despite feeling all of those things at once, you grasped onto each other and never picked up the pace, clammy hands and warm skin, quiet groans and pounding hearts.

“ronnie, i wanna ride you.” you mumbled against his lips, as he allowed you to ease off him, finally straddling his hips once he was slouched against the headboard. you lazily rocked your hips against his, dragging your soaked folds over his shaft, finally letting up and sliding onto his cock once he pinched at your hips and gave you a desperate look.

“fuck, y/n. so tight around me, riding me like that.” he groaned, warm breath fanning over the shell of your ear as you wrapped your arms around his neck for support, head buried in the crook of it, bouncing steadily and moaning every time the new position made the thick head of his cock hit your g-spot.

“i love you.” you groaned, hips meeting his and no longer bouncing, just rocking back and forth, rolling your hips against his slowly.

“i love you too. so fucking much. never wanna leave you.”

“don’t.” you sniffled again, eyes filling with tears once more.

“i don’t want to.” you began riding him properly again, slowly, as he met your thrusts, rutting up into you. the crack in his voice was evident, and you avoided sobbing again by pressing your head even further into his neck, kissing the pale skin softly.

moaning, you bit your bottom lip, “i’m gonna cum, baby.”

“cum for me.” he breathed as you obliged (without much choice), body twitching as your orgasm washed over you powerfully, eyes screwed shut, thighs squeezing against his.

sensitive, he kept rocking up into you slowly, shallow moans building up from the back of his throat, voice raspy, “gonna cum, shit.”

you felt the sudden warmth as he pumped load after load of cum into you, and you kept your eyes closed, holding onto ron tighter than you thought possible as his trembling hands caressed your waist.

“can we stay like this, a sec’?”

his cock began to soften inside you, and he mumbled against your shoulder after a moment, “yeah.”

so you just held each other, breathing and hearts slowing down.

you mumbled into his neck. “promise you’ll be safe?”

you could feel him smile softly against your shoulder.

“if it means coming back to you? i promise.“

If basalisk fangs can kill horcruxes then why didn’t the horcrux in Harry die when the basilisk bit him in second year?!?!?!

Phantom of the opera but make it voldy and ginny in the chamber of secret. I don’t ship them lol, just want to make something from when ginny got possessed by to riddle’s diary

Art commission info

Altered State

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 75,857 (WIP)

Pairing: Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger

Summary:

Six years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Auror Hermione Granger activated a mysterious dark object, which unexpectedly sent her decades into the past.

The year is 1966, and Tom Riddle, now known as Lord Voldemort, returned to British wizarding society after a decade-long absence. Under the pretense of securing the DADA teaching post, he returned to Hogwarts to conceal one of his Horcruxes, Ravenclaw’s Diadem. However, the coveted position had been stolen a week before his arrival by an intriguing witch. As manipulative schemes emerge, tension builds into a ruinous obsession.

Read at Ao3orFFN

Character dorm rooms part 156:

this man right here deserves everything good in this world