The Love Story of Harriet Potter and Tom Riddle

Chapter 128 - The Boy Who Lived

Thank you for reading! I don't own any of Harry Potter! Please let me know if you enjoy! Updates every Saturday!
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For once, Rubeus Hagrid had finally encountered a creature which he could not tend completely on his own.

The majority of his help came from Professor McGonagall.

Together, they navigated the early life of the castle's small refugee.

Professor McGonagall helped with an eager heart.

Having never had children of her own, the poor, scarred baby in her arms wove his way into her heart.

Hagrid quickly learned the basics of childcare, although McGonagall's hands were much more useful then his when it came to looking after his small charge.

Regardless of their commitment to helping the baby, it didn't take terribly long for Dumbledore's generosity to be challenged.

One sunny afternoon, the day quicjly clouded as the Minister for Magic made his first appearance at the castle since his return.

Hagrid saw the procession coming up the hill, a tall, bald, painfully pale man followed by a dozen of so black-robes officials all in silver masks.

Hagrid made quick work of giving the baby a magical pacifier and slyly placing him under two loose floorboards in his hut.

Hagrid did not even recognize Tom.

He recognized the threat to the little one he had already vowed to protect.

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Dumbledore seemed unphased as Tom stood in front of him a few moments later.

Tom sneered at the elderly headmaster while his many men began to rummage through Dumbledore's office, as if there was something very important they needed to find.

"How good it is to see you again, Tom." Dumbledore smiled pleasantly, "I had been told that you were dead."

"Where is it?" Tom barked.

"I'm afraid I'm not certain what you're asking." Dumbledore cryptically replied.

"Where is the monster?" Tom demanded.

"The Basilisk is in the Chamber of Secrets where you left it all those years ago." Dumbledore blinked, "It's location has never been disturbed by Hogwarts' faculty or staff, not even myself."

"Don't play games with me, old man!" Tom hissed, "Where is the abomination?! I have reliable reports that say the child was taken from the Island of the Lost and brought here.......To this castle, to this very room!"

"Those reports have indeed been correct." Dumbledore replied, as calmly as if he were placing an order at The Three Broomsticks, "The boy was pulled from the wreckage and brought to Hogwarts for medical assistance."

"Where is it?" Tom snarled, his teeth grit.

"He was buried deep in the Forbidden Forest, on the far side where only spiders crawl and dark creatures dwell." Dumbledore frowned.

Tom threw Dumbledore a questioning look.

A good wizard recognized his own limitations.

Dumbledore's skills at Legilimency were nowhere near Tom's.

Instead of relying on magic, Dumbledore used instinct and intuition to determine that the Minister for Magic teetered on accepting his claim as truth.

"As you know, Tom," Dumbledore began, "The boy was born as a result of some of the most foulest acts possible. The scars of Dark Magic are more than skin deep, I'm afraid. He was not long for this world the moment he was conceived."