Deep beneath the Ministry of Magic, nine stories down in the Department of Mysteries, a large, red-eyed black rat scurried into the dimly lit halls. Voldemort (remnant soul), back in his original form, infiltrated the room housing the prophecy orbs.
He was immediately met by the faint, ethereal glow of countless palm-sized orbs, each a vessel containing prophecies from seers across time. Voldemort (remnant soul) sought the orb bearing his true name: "Tom Marvolo Riddle."
But after a frantic search, he found none. Of course, he thought with a chilling chuckle, a mix of disdain and perverse satisfaction bubbling within him. Those spineless fools wouldn't dare immortalize me on their precious orbs.
Shifting his focus, Voldemort (remnant soul) quickly located the orbs labeled "Dark Lord." The number was small, a testament to his considerable power. Only a select few prophets could glimpse events surrounding him.
...Not many to choose from, he thought, frowning as he considered the few he'd retrieved. He was starting to worry about his chances of finding useful intel. Still, he resolved to examine these first.
Minutes passed.
As he'd suspected, the prophecies were filled with the usual drivel: "the rise of a terrible, demonic tyrant," "a looming crisis for the wizarding world"—utterly devoid of practical information. Yet, he couldn't deny the perverse thrill of it all. The prophets "boasted" of his past glories.
...Again, he sighed, picking up the orbs and scrutinizing them. Only after a third pass did he reluctantly return them, a strange emptiness gnawing at him. How ridiculous...
But what choice did he have? He had gone from being a street rat to a... well, a literal rat. Even a glorious past meant little; survival was the only true truth.
"Nothing here."
Voldemort (remnant soul) turned toward the other sections of the prophecy chamber, hoping to find orbs connected to the other Tom Riddle. Perhaps those prophecies held the answers he needed.
...
Of Tom's associates, only Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore, and Gellert Grindelwald had prophecy orbs here. The others were either untraceable or nonexistent.
Voldemort (remnant soul) clutched the orb tied to Dumbledore. Logically, Harry should have been the closest to Tom. But that useless whelp only had one orb, Trelawney's prophecy about his July birth—utter garbage.
Of the remaining two old men, Dumbledore was undeniably closer to Tom. Yet, as he peered into the orb, Voldemort (remnant soul)'s expression twisted. "No, no, not any of that..."
He gripped the orb tighter, his face a mask of fury. "Don't even think about it, Tom. You won't find any information about Tom here... uh... I mean, another Tom."
A hand landed on Voldemort (remnant soul)'s left shoulder. His crimson eyes widened, and he spun away from the figure that had materialized behind him. In his younger days, he would've been faster, the Blasting Charm primed and ready. Tom's "friendly exchange" had cured him of that "bad habit." He wouldn't have dared such a move before Tom's demise.
"Dumbledore?!"
Voldemort (remnant soul) raised his wand, eyes fixed on Dumbledore while scanning the surroundings, his heart hammering.
"Don't worry, Tom's not here... you know which Tom I'm talking about." Dumbledore appeared calm, showing no fear in the face of a formidable enemy.
"Heh..." Voldemort (remnant soul) sneered. He knew Dumbledore: the man wouldn't lie. "The old coot dares to come alone…"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled slyly. "Oh, I never said I came alone."
"Avada Kedavra!"
"What?!"
Voldemort (remnant soul) instinctively conjured a wall of black mist to deflect the Killing Curse's emerald flash.
Regaining his balance, he saw an old man in a black trench coat emerge gracefully from behind a shelf of prophecy orbs.
"Gellert Grindelwald?!"
The involuntary exclamation revealed Voldemort (remnant soul)'s inner turmoil.
His gaze darted between the two old men. He had believed that without Tom, he was invincible! Now it seemed... two doddering geezers were ganging up on a "youth" like him, who wasn't even seventy?
How utterly shameless!
Voldemort (remnant soul) forced a smile. "Heh, Dumbledore, have you really sunk this low?"
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "What are you suggesting?"
"How about a fair fight? One on one!"
"Pfft."
Grindelwald raised a fist to his mouth, a twinkle in his eye. "Sorry, did you want one of us to take on both of us? Or did I misunderstand and you want to fight both of us alone?"
"..."
Grindelwald's words darkened Voldemort (remnant soul)'s expression. That old bastard has no honor! He should just shut his trap!
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, amused by Grindelwald's teasing. He cleared his throat, struggling to maintain his composure as he looked at Voldemort (remnant soul). "Sorry, Tom."
"..."
Voldemort (remnant soul) seethed. He hated Dumbledore's two-faced nature—offering empty apologies while simultaneously beating you to a pulp!
"Damn it!"
His eyes darted around, searching for an escape.
Come to think of it, isn't that all I've been doing since my resurrection? Running? Never mind! Not important! Gotta find a way out of this first!
"Gellert! Cut him off!"
Both old men were astute enough to see through Voldemort (remnant soul)'s intentions.
Dumbledore flicked his wand, and the room began to shift unnaturally. The shelves of prophecy orbs receded, while the floor and ceiling converged on Voldemort (remnant soul), as if trying to crush him.
Voldemort (remnant soul) transformed into black mist to evade the deadly trap, reverting to human form just in time to face a crimson Crunch in the Heart spell from Grindelwald.
Wand in hand, Voldemort (remnant soul) expertly deflected the spell back toward Dumbledore at a tricky angle.
Dumbledore waved his left hand, conjuring a white barrier to intercept the rebounded hex.
None of the three combatants employed large-scale destructive spells.
Voldemort (remnant soul) was wary of drawing attention; he was uncertain why the two had arrived. As long as Tom hadn't appeared, he clung to the hope that Tom was unaware of the situation.
As for Dumbledore and Grindelwald, they were simply concerned about accidentally destroying the priceless prophecy orbs of the Department of Mysteries.
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