The Fall of Dumbledore: The White King

Whispers in the Dark

The Slytherin dormitory was silent save for the gentle breathing of sleeping students and the ever-present lap of lake water against thick glass windows. Hades lay in his four-poster bed, curtains drawn, waiting for the familiar pull of consciousness slipping away. These nights had become precious to him- when the barriers between minds grew thin, and communication became possible.

As sleep claimed him, the darkness behind his eyelids shifted and transformed. He found himself in an elegant study furnished in deep greens and rich mahogany. Tom Riddle sat behind a massive desk, his handsome features illuminated by floating orbs of soft light.

"Hades," Tom greeted warmly, gesturing to the chair across from him. "I trust your term is progressing well?"

"Better than expected," Hades settled into the offered seat, enjoying the reality of this shared dreamscape. Their mental connection, forged through careful ritual and strengthened by their shared goals, had become an invaluable tool. "Umbridge is exceeding even our highest hopes for chaos."

Tom's laugh was rich and genuine- so different from the high, cold laugh Dumbledore would have expected from 'Lord Voldemort'. "Excellent. And the student's reactions?"

"Predictable. They're already forming secret study groups, believing themselves terribly rebellious." Hades smirked. "The Ravenclaws are particularly amusing- they think they're being subtle with their research into advanced defensive magic."

"Let them study," Tom mused, standing to pour two glasses of wine. "It will make no difference in the end. But that's not why you sought contact tonight, is it?"

"No." Hades accepted the offered glass, though he knew it was merely a construct of their shared consciousness. "I've discovered something interesting about our favorite gamekeeper's summer activities."

Tom's eyes sharpened with interest. "Ah, yes, Hagrid's mysterious absence. Do tell."

"He's returned from a mission for Dumbledore- trying to recruit giants to their cause." Hades took a sip of dream wine, savoring its phantom taste. "I overheard him talking with that woman from Beauxbatons, Maxime. They found the giant colonies in the mountains, but the reception was... mixed."

"Giants are naturally drawn to power," Tom observed. "They would have sensed Dumbledore's weakness, his reluctance to embrace true strength." He paused, studying Hades thoughtfully. "Where exactly did they find these colonies?"

Hades smiled, dark and knowing. "The Urals. Specifically, a valley near the northern peaks. Hagrid was quite detailed in his description to Maxime- apparently, he thinks speaking in whispers in his hut means no one can hear him from outside."

"Careless," Tom murmured, but his eyes gleamed in satisfaction. "I'll send Dolohov and the Carrows. They know that territory well, and they've been eager for action. The giants will make their choice- join us or face the consequences."

"Will you tell them about me?" Hades asked, curious. "The Death Eaters still believe in the fiction of Lord Voldemort's mysterious young lieutenant."

"Let them keep believing it for now," Tom replied. "Mystery breeds fear, and fear breeds respect. Besides," he added with a slight smile, "I rather enjoy watching them try to guess your identity."

The study began to blur slightly at the edges- a sign that someone or something in the waking world was approaching Hades's sleeping form. "Someone's coming," he said quietly.

"Go," Tom nodded. "But Hades... make sure Hagrid understands the cost of his failed diplomacy. Nothing too obvious, of course."

"Of course," Hades agreed as the dream began to fade. "I think it's time the Care of Magical Creatures class had a tragic accident..."

He woke to the sound of soft footsteps approaching his bed. The curtains parted slightly, revealing Draco's concerned face illuminated by wand light.

"You were muttering in your sleep," Draco whispered, slipping into the bed and drawing the curtains closed behind him. "Another dream?"

"Mm," Hades confirmed, pulling Draco closer. "A productive one. We'll need to watch the Prophet carefully over the next few weeks. There might be some interesting news from Easter Europe."

Draco traced patterns on Hades's chest, his touch grounding after the ethereal quality of the dream-meeting. "Should I be jealous that you spend your nights with the Dark Lord?" he teased, his usual confidence carrying an edge of command.

"Hardly," Hades murmured, unable to prevent a slight shiver at Draco's touch. When he brought Draco's hand to his lips, there was a hint of yielding in the gesture. "Those meetings are business. This..." he paused, eyes darkening with vulnerability, "this is pleasure."

The next morning, Hades watched with carefully concealed satisfaction as Hagrid lumbered into the Great Hall for breakfast, still sporting bruises from his giant-related diplomatic efforts. The half-giant's days of serving as Dumbledore's ambassador were numbered, though he didn't know it yet.

"Did you see the state of him?" Pansy whispered, her nose wrinkled in disgust. "What kind of 'secret mission' leaves someone looking like that?"

"I'm sure we'll find out soon enough," Hades replied smoothly, buttering his toast with practiced elegance. "The Prophet has such a way of... uncovering things, doesn't it?"

Across the hall, he caught his father's eye. Severus gave him the barest of nods- he received Tom's message about the planned attack on the giant colonies. Everything was proceeding according to plan.

The owls swooped in with the morning mail, Hades allowed himself a moment of pure satisfaction. Let Dumbledore play his games with symbolic gestures and failed diplomacy. The real power was moving in the shadows, in whispered conversations and shared dreams, in the careful manipulation of pieces across a board that spanned continents.

Soon enough, the giants would make their choice. And Hagrid would learn that some secrets are better left untold.