Riddle and the Ancient Contract

Chapter-12,Suspicions

Albus Dumbledore read the Daily Prophet with a bit of shock and a lot of fury. They dared to call him to task. He was the Leader of the Light. Their Leader no matter who sat in the Minister's office and they would not get away with printing such things about him.

And the story Riddle had concocted. Albus had searched official records and found the birth, marriage and death records of Thomas Riddle's mother, father and grandmother. As far as the government and Gringotts was concerned he was the grandson of Voldemort not Voldemort himself. How had he got official documents planted? The Ministry records he understood could be easily adjusted, but the goblins had to be implicit in the subterfuge for their records to collaborate the story. What had Riddle promised the Goblin Nation in order to get their backing to such a degree?

He ground his teeth together in frustration. That blasted Line Protection contract. How had he not known about it? How had James Potter not known? It was obvious to anyone who gave it two seconds of serious thought that the prophecy he claimed to have heard could not be true not with that bloody double-damned contract made centuries before.

All his plans were coming unraveled. The pieces acting in incomprehensible ways set into new directions by that Contract. He needed Riddle and Potter dead so he could rule. He hadn't went through all that effort to get the Philosopher's Stone for it all to fall apart.

His behind the scene, less than genial, actions were starting to come to light. He couldn't let that happen. How could he stop it? If just one of the people involved spoke up it would encourage the rest to reevaluate his actions with them in light of the heretofore unknown actions with others.

He stood and made his way to the floo. First he needed to make the Prophet's editor understand in no uncertain terms that they were not to print such derogatory statements about their Leader.

He flooed to The Leaky Cauldron hard pressed to keep his congenial, grandfatherly persona on display as he made his way through Diagon Alley to the offices of the Daily Prophet.

People were actually staring at him in disbelief and slight disgust. Some actually looked angry with him!

He entered the Daily Prophet and strode over to the receptionist. "Good morning, my dear. I need to speak with the Editor if he has a moment."

The receptionist looked at him coldly. "One moment, I'll check, Mr. Dumbledore."

Albus nodded giving her a benign smile and wandered away to peruse the framed photographs and articles on the waiting room wall.

His smile was strained and the hands clasped behind his back white knuckled with fury when twenty-five minutes later she led him back through a silently staring office of reporters and clerks to the editor's office.

"Thank you for seeing me," he smiled happily at the editor.

The editor, Mr. Josiah Byliners, glared at him. "I'm guessing you're here about the article."

Dumbledore flicked his wand and transfigured the uncomfortable wooden seat in front of the desk into a comfy, overstuffed chair and settled into it with a sigh. "Yes, I am."

"Not printing a retraction. We print the stories that come to us. You bring us a story. We'll print it if I think it'll sell copies."

Dumbledore clasped his hands in his lap and gave the editor a look of gentle disappointment. "I was greatly disappointed that you would print such slanderous comments about me without asking if I had a valid reason for the supposed acts or even if they were true."

"Are you saying Lady Slytherin lied?"

"Nono, I would not accuse Hari of lying. The child just doesn't know all the factors behind my actions. She jumps to wild conclusions at times. Life is a lot more complicated than a sixteen year old can comprehend."