Hogwarts and the Wolf in the Fold

Voldemort puts a spy into Hogwarts.
Set during the year of the Half-blood Prince.


6. Memories are Made of This

 Memories are made of This

His face was impassive, but David was sure that Voldemort had not expected to find him in such a state.
He was still giggling but trying his best to hold it back.
“The laughter potion.” Said Voldemort, looking at the contents of the cauldron and the open book.
“Yes.” Spluttered David.
“I had no idea that it worked on non-humans. It may prove useful to know that more than one potion will have the same effect on them. I’ve only used one other potion on a house-elf.”
David tried to look attentive, but he was shaking too much with inner laughter.
Voldemort took out his wand and waved it nonchalantly at David and immediately his laughter stopped. David was very relieved because his ribs were actually beginning to hurt now. He wondered how long the laughing would have continued and what effect it might have had if he had not been able to stop it.
“You will learn that some spells and potions are more dangerous than they appear at first glance.” Said Voldemort.
“This potion will carry on working for about an hour, but if had been taken from a bottle that has been stored and allowed to mature for a year or more, then it takes a very strong antidote to stop it.”
“If it is strong enough, the drinker can even choke to death as they are unable to breathe. They laugh themselves to death.”
David breathed his own sigh of relief and Voldemort sniffed.
“How did you stop the potion from working?” Asked David.
Voldemort looked at David appraisingly and answered “I can perform spells without having to say them out loud. I didn’t stop the potion from working, that would require you to take an antidote. I cast a spell to relax you, it merely masks the symptoms until you recover properly.”
David was suitable impressed and said so.
“That is amazing.” He laughed with genuine appreciation.
Voldemort waved his wand around the room and every candle along the wall and in the chandeliers lit up brightly and the room showed itself full for the first time.
“You have missed years of potential education at Hogwarts and I do not have enough time to teach you what you need to catch up on, in the conventional manner.” He said.
“What I can do, however, is to give you the memory of having taken the lessons yourself. You will think that you were actually there in class and will be able to use spells, hexes and brew potions that any other student of your age could do.”
David couldn’t believe his ears.
“Is that possible?”
“I will make it so.” Voldemort replied.
“I have already acquired the memories that you need. They are from a student who attended the Beauxbatons wizarding school here in France.”
“You will remember the names of your Professors and friends at the school, all your lessons and all about the school itself. You will be given no memory of the student’s family or upbringing which could cause you to become confused.”
Voldemort seemed to have taken a great deal of effort to prepare the memories for David and now he was keen to get started. He gave no thought as to whom the student was, or how the memories had been taken from him. It was a part of David’s character to accept gifts without question, and often without thanks.
Voldemort directed David to sit down in an armchair and he did so, bracing himself for who knew what.
Voldemort then produced a mysteriously glowing jar from a large inner pocket of his robes. From within the jar there emanated bluish swirling light. It appeared to be coming from cloudy strands of material interweaving with each other.
“Relax and we will begin.” Said Voldemort.
David rested his head on the back of the chair and closed his eyes. A small smile played across his face. Behind him a bigger smile broke out on Voldemort’s face, but it was one of triumph not of joy. His plans were coming together better than he had expected.
Voldemort took his wand and the top of the jar spun off and flew across the room. He then placed the tip into the swirling mass and lifted out a long twisting strand of memory. His eyes glowed yellow and his nostrils flared as he moved it towards David’s head.
The strand wormed its way into David’s ear and slowly disappeared inside. David lifted slightly in his chair and then relaxed again as he felt a surge of tingling warmth flow through his brain.
He instantly forgot who or where he was and began to see flashing visions of people and places he had never been before. Or had he? Surely he knew who the people were. It was Jean-Claude, his friend. He had forgotten to hand in his Transfiguration homework, a full foot of parchment on changing the colour of different materials. No, he had done the homework, it had been easy to transcolour wooden blocks using the ‘spectral transformance’ spell.
Sitting his exams in the great hall, with its beautiful high arches and spiralling stonework below a huge transparent dome.
One by one Voldemort took each strand of memory and inserted it into David’s ear. When he had finished and the jar was empty, he stood back and waited for a sign of recognition from David.
Meanwhile David was undergoing his own personal transformation inside his head. The memories were not in any particular order of time and he was soon sitting at the front of the great hall in front of hundreds of other students.
It was his first day at school and he was being sorted into his house. A blue cloak was lying on a table at his side and the woman in front of him instructed him to put it on.
As he pulled the hood over his head he heard a voice speak to him.
“Hmm what house to put you in? You have hidden talent and come from a family with a long history at Beauxbatons. Did you know that your great-grandmother was head girl and gained triple distinctions in her Exames Elevees?”
David didn’t know that, nor could he ever remember having a great-grandmother, or even a grandmother.
“I will therefore place you in Sournois. The house most suited to pureblood wizards.”
“Sournois!” It exclaimed to the whole school, and David threw off the cloak and received a red and black sash that was placed over his shoulder and pinned to his robes with a clasp in the shape of a black raven.
“Raven.” Said David.
“What was that?” Asked Voldemort.
“My house at Beauxbatons. It is the raven. Sournois.”
Voldemort’s eyes lit up and he laughed with delight. Another small victory in his fight against Dumbledore.
“You have done well tonight, apprentice. I will now leave you again to give the memories time to settle in. You will have a few days of confusion, but you should be able to recall many of the spells and incantations you have just been given.”
“I will not know if the memories are completely taken until my death-eaters have been brought out of their imprisonment.” He added.
“One of them knows much about Beauxbatons and he will confirm that you can remember the details of the school and its ways.”
David was lost in a maelstrom of memories thundering through his mind at breakneck speed, but he had the wits to reply.
“Thank you, Master.”
Voldemort was satisfied with this and he regarded David with a keen eye. David felt as if Voldemort was staring right into his mind, but he was to befuddled to make anything of the reason why.
“When I next return, I will take you into Paris and we will obtain all the clothing, books and equipment that you will need for Hogwarts.”
“Am I not returning to Beauxbatons?” He asked, confused.
“No. You duties will be in the Hogwarts castle. I will explain all to you when you are ready. We will also obtain for you a suitable wand.”
David’s eyes opened wide at this.
“A wand? Really?”
“Of course a wand.”
“You need a wand that will be matched to your own character and persona. I can not give you the wand of another, it would not work fully for you. The wand chooses the wizard, I know this well.”
David could hardly contain his excitement at the thought of owning his own wand, one that would only work for him.
Without knowing why, he dropped onto one knee and kissed the hem of Voldemort’s cloak.
The look on Voldemort’s face was unfathomable. He placed his hand on David’s head for a second and then turned and walked out of the door.
David looked up again and saw that Voldemort had disappeared without a sound. He began to cry.
He lay down, curled up on the floor and fell asleep, where he dreamed of walking through the halls of Beauxbatons with Jean-Claude. Why did Jean-Claude keep calling him Davide? It was pronounced ‘David’, everyone knew that. Or was it? Davide or David?
A soft hand clasped his own, and David awoke to find Pinky stroking his hand and with tears dripping down her face. At the sight of his coming to his senses she smiled widely and spoke softly.
“Is Master apprentice feeling any better?”
David couldn’t yet get his bearings and he sat up for a few moments before realising who was with him and where he was.
“Why is it that I can understand what people are saying in my memories of Beauxbatons, but I don’t speak French?”
Pinky stared at him and didn’t know what to say.
“I’m okay now, Pinky. It’s just a bit confusing to sort out what is real and what isn’t. But I know how to do magic!”
David leapt to his feet and began to recite spells at random.
“Wingardium Leviosa! Petrificus Totalis!” He cast imaginary spells here and there and jumped up onto the sofa waving an imaginary wand.
Pinky was delighted at his recovery and followed him around clapping her hands with glee.
“Clever Master Apprentice, so clever he is.” She exclaimed happily.
David grabbed Pinky around the waist and danced around the room with her, lifting her off the floor and making her dizzy as they spun around and around.
”Woo-oo.” Said Pinky as her eyes spun and wobbled.
“Pinky will go and make supper for Master. Pinky feels a bit dizzy now.”
She weaved her way out of the room again and David watched her and grinned. He felt on top of the world.
Magic spells, potions he could make in an instant, a wand. He really would be a wizard soon.


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