The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold. In the courtyard of Flamel Manor, the atmosphere was jovial as everyone gathered for a barbecue. Tom Riddle, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, gently prodded Annie, coaxing her breath to ignite the charcoal. Nagini, ever attentive, offered Tom Riddle a skewer of grilled meat.
"So, you are leaving so soon?" Nicolas Flamel asked, attempting to project an air of nonchalant cool behind his sunglasses, as he prepared the beef.
Albus Dumbledore, carefully brushing honey onto his steak, offered a wistful smile. "I am afraid so, Nicolas. Pressing matters call me away."
Nicolas Flamel's reply was a near whisper, "Indeed. We all have our burdens to bear, don't we?"
Madame Flamel and Nicolas Flamel exchanged a knowing glance, a silent understanding passing between them.
Then came the inevitable request. "Um… Nicolas, since the opportunity presents itself, might I prevail upon you to forge another ten or eight Philosopher's Stones?"
Hogwarts, it seemed, was perpetually strapped for cash. Beyond renovations, Albus Dumbledore intended to bolster the coffers of Woody Wood Orphanage. He figured handing them over to Tom Riddle would be prudent; even if the children ended up somewhat worse for wear, they likely would not be in a worse position than they were currently. The orphanage's exceptional quality made it a worthwhile risk.
"..."
Nicolas Flamel's brow furrowed, a visible ripple of exasperation crossing his face. "Are you jesting? You speak as if crafting a Philosopher's Stone is akin to conjuring rabbits from a hat!"
As the pinnacle of alchemical achievement, the Philosopher's Stone demanded not only rare materials but also an alchemist of exceptional skill. Even with unlimited resources, Nicolas Flamel would struggle to produce another one quickly.
"Oh, alright. How about just one more, then?" Albus Dumbledore, ever the pragmatist, attempted to wring every last benefit from his association with Nicolas Flamel before their paths diverged. After all, they were old friends. He knew Nicolas Flamel would move heaven and earth to fulfil his requests, within reason.
"Very well," Nicolas Flamel conceded, his tone suggesting he valued the gesture more than the artifact itself. "I shall send it by owl post upon its completion."
"Excellent. Consider it settled."
...
Night descended, and a delicate snowfall blanketed Hogsmeade Village, transforming the village into a silver-frosted dream. Outside the dingy tavern known as "The Hog's Head," Tom Riddle and Albus Dumbledore stood in the biting cold, returned from the warmth of France.
"Are you not going in?" Tom Riddle pressed. "I have no desire to spend the evening shivering out here."
Albus Dumbledore offered no response, merely shaking his head slightly before pushing open the door and stepping inside.
Tom Riddle followed close behind.
...
Aberforth Dumbledore, a disheveled man with a wild, untamed beard, paused in his task of wiping a wine glass as the door creaked open. He looked up to behold his "esteemed brother" ushering the Dark Lord himself—the source of recent turmoil—into his establishment.
"What is this? Finally decided to send me to meet my maker? Just as you did with Ariana?" Aberforth Dumbledore wasted no time launching into his familiar tirade.
Years prior, Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald had clashed, resulting in the accidental death of their sister, Ariana Dumbledore, which led to a complete and bitter estrangement between the brothers.
Tom Riddle, however, was immune to their familial discord. His only concern was the persistent attempts on his life.
"Aberforth Dumbledore, your squabbles with Albus Dumbledore are of no concern to me. But do not presume to involve me in them. I would be quite happy to demonstrate precisely what a Dark Lord is capable of." Tom Riddle's patience was wearing thin. He would not be made a fool of.
"Fine, kill me then! Send me to join the rest of my family!" Embittered and alone, Aberforth Dumbledore cared little for his own existence. He was now a grumpy old man, sour-faced to all.
"Avada Kedavra…"
Snap.
Albus Dumbledore's hand shot out, seizing Tom Riddle's wrist, halting the deadly incantation. The green light flickered and died.
"Tom Riddle, please... allow me to do this."
Seeing the rare pleading look in Albus Dumbledore's eyes, Tom Riddle hesitated, unsure how to respond.
"As you wish." Tom Riddle withdrew his hand and turned, exiting the Hog's Head.
Click.
Only after the door had swung shut did Albus Dumbledore take a seat at the bar.
"Aberforth, I know you hate me. I do not expect your forgiveness," Albus Dumbledore began on a note of contrition. "I can scarcely forgive myself."
Aberforth Dumbledore watched him in silence, waiting to see what his brother was about to say.
"I have not come here seeking absolution." Albus Dumbledore looked directly at Aberforth Dumbledore, sincerity etched on his face. "I want you to come with me… to see Ariana again."
Bang!
Aberforth Dumbledore slammed his wooden goblet onto the bar, his face contorting with anger.
"Get out! You are not welcome here." He pointed towards the door.
Albus Dumbledore remained unmoved. "It is Ariana, alive…"
Aberforth Dumbledore visibly trembled.
A heavy silence descended upon the bar.
Finally, Aberforth Dumbledore spoke, his voice barely a whisper, "Have you… revisited those forbidden arts?" His tone was laced with accusation.
"No, not those dark things. Something beyond imagination, something even Merlin could not accomplish... a miracle."
...
Outside, Tom Riddle stood in the freezing wind, snowflakes collecting in his hair, oblivious to the cold as he stared at the heavens.
Click.
Hearing the door open, Tom Riddle, without turning, asked, "Well? Have you reached a resolution?"
Aberforth Dumbledore remained silent, and Albus Dumbledore simply said, "Let us go."
Flames erupted in the air.
"Screech!"
Fawkes, the phoenix, had reappeared!
Albus Dumbledore gently stroked the phoenix. "Fawkes, this time, take us... home."
"Screech!"
Fawkes burst into flames, engulfing Tom Riddle and his companions, and vanished.
...
Godric's Hollow.
A community of both wizarding and Muggle families. A quaint square formed the village center, anchored by a war memorial. Shops, a post office, a pub, and a small church dotted the perimeter. By day, sunlight streamed through the church's stained glass windows, casting jewel-toned reflections across the square.
But now, it was cloaked in darkness.
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