THE AFTERMATH | RON WEASLEY [BOOK FOUR]

15. CURSED

After a harmless threat, (or five), from Madam Pomfrey, Gene begrudgingly left Ron's side a few days later, being informed of something to do with Dumbledore's office and toffee eclairs.

Upon arrival, she had been met with the same instructions, some short back-story and a dip into the Pensieve, where they were met with a rather eccentric shop keeper and her house-elf. Their names were Hepzibah Smith and Hokey, respectively.

After a deadly visit from one Voldemort, though he was Tom Riddle back then, Hepzibah Smith was found dead two days later and Hokey had been convicted by the Ministry of poisoning her mistress, to both Gene and Harry's complete horror.

"As in the case of Morfin, by the time I traced her and managed to extract this memory, her life was almost over– but her memory, of course, proves nothing except that Voldemort knew of the existence of the cup and the locket."

The cup, being Helga Hufflepuffs and the locket being none other than Salazar Slytherin's.

"But before Hepzibah's family were sure that the cup and the locket were both gone, the assistant who had worked at Borgin and Burkes, the young man who had visited Hepzibah so regularly and charmed her so well, had resigned his post and vanished. His superiors had no idea where he had gone; they were as surprised as anyone at his disappearance. And that was the last that was seen or heard of Tom Riddle for a very long time."

"Jesus Christ." Gene muttered.

"Bless you, dear." Dumbledore said, "Let us draw our attention t certain points of our story. Voldemort had committed another murder; whether it was his first since he killed the Riddles, I do not know, but I think it was. This time, as you will have seen, he killed not for revenge, but for gain. He wanted the two fabulous trophies that poor, besotted old woman showed him. Just as he had once robbed the other children at his orphanage, just as he had stolen his uncle Morfin's ring, so he ran off now with Hepzibah's cup and locket."

"But–" Harry frowned, "it seems mad, risking everything, throwing away his job, just for those–"

"Mad to you, perhaps, but not to Voldemort," Dumbledore returned. ''And now for the very last recollection I have to show you, at least until you manage to retrieve Professor Slughorn's memory for us. Ten years separate Hokey's memory and this one, ten years during which we can only guess at what Lord Voldemort was doing."

The thought sent shivers down Gene's spine as she followed Harry, standing to her feet as Dumbledore took a crystal phial that appeared identical to the others, emptying it into the Pensieve.

"Whose memory is it?" Gene asked curiously.

"Mine," Dumbledore said, before they dove into the silvery-blue liquid, only to land in the exact same office they had been in.

There was a much younger Dumbledore, sat behind his desk seemingly waiting for something. Not a second later, a knock at the door had sounded, to which Dumbledore permitted their entry.

Gene's breath caught in her throat as she gasped in horror, stumbling backwards as Voldemort entered the room. He no longer bore Tom Riddle's handsome face and yet, he hadn't Voldemort's final snake like form yet. He lay somewhere in the middle, stood in Dumbledore's office like a wax figure, pale and unmoving. But the Dumbledore behind the desk didn't seem at all phased.

"Good evening, Tom." Dumbledore said, "Won't you sit down?" he gestured towards a seat, Gene's seat, in fact and Voldemort took it.

"I heard that you had become Headmaster," he said, "A worthy choice." though his tone didn't seem to match his words.

Dumbledore had offered a drink which Voldemort had accepted, and he stepped over to where the Pensieve had been kept at present, only it was filled with an assortment of bottles in the past.