Dark Wizard Collector: A Hogwarts Fanfiction

Chapter 4

A cry escaped me, my journal never replied in blood. "Tom?" My shaky voice asked. "Where are you? What are you doing?" I was frantic, hearing from my little trouble maker of a brother.

Oh, you know... recruiting.

"Listen to me; stop this rubbish quest of yours at once! Give up the army and the Deathly Hallows."

Why? Because you lost your lover to the Deathly Hallows?

"Yes! And I don't want to lose you as well! Please Tom, I hate hearing my brother's name associated with murder."

It is better than lechery. You really did earn yourself a reputable name.

The laugh in his words was apparent and I bit back my anger. Every chance I had to speak with him, we ended up arguing; I hated it. "Tom..." my voice broke in a sob.

Stop mewling.

"Obliviate." I whispered, closing the journal, touched my wand to my temple, and Avenger let out a sad squawk.

Shaking my head, I looked down at the open diary before me. A sad smile pulled at the side of my mouth. I had made this diary and a matching one for my brother. I wondered if he still had his. We usually communicated via these journals, but I was always scared to reach out to him and be rebuffed. Closing the diary, I thought better of writing to Tom.

A year ago, my dear brother gathered quite a group of followers who called themselves Death Eaters. I laughed at Tom when I heard he changed his name to Voldemort, and attempted to top my magic with his silly Horcrux endeavor to live forever. Tom was adamant about immortality and protection from everything. It was fear that stimulated his obsession; he was so scared and I knew it, but he refused to let me help him. That is when I realized his competitive spirit had gone too far. Tom idolized me and when we were younger I pushed him to never give up in his hunger for power. Eventually, I relented; my little brother harnessed extremely dark magic with great ease. The poor young man did not believe me when I praised his advancement.

Reassuringly, I told Tom that I would protect him at all costs and he could rely on my help whenever he asked for it; he never asked though, and that broke my heart. In my presence, Tom never showed true malice, so the stories I heard about him in the wizarding world frightened me. Since our parent's abandonment, the dear heart I had cared for had become infected with fear and anger. My beloved brother claimed I abandoned him as well, even when I told him I was the one who asked Dumbledore to specifically find Tom at the orphanage. Tom alienated me, and I never saw him again.

What was even worse, was hearing him referred to everywhere I went. I did not enjoy having to change my name and appearance to escape association. Anyone known to be in cahoots with Voldemort was persecuted. It pained me greatly to do what was necessary for self-preservation and hide my relation to Tom. A noxious thought haunted me; would be better to live with Muggles and not live the life I was born into, the half-blood life? Consequently, I spent twenty-eight years virtually isolated practicing transfiguration and alchemy before returning to Hogwarts.

In my endeavors, I was fruitful and my return to the school was inevitable.