61Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. I am not a British woman who makes interesting statements on Twitter about her works long after they have been published. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of Harry Potter, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.
Dumbledore's Man Through and Through
Prologue
Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore was a little apprehensive as he slowly ascended the stairs of Wool's Orphanage. He was there to deliver a Hogwarts admission letter to a Muggle-raised boy, one Tom Marvolo Riddle.
Mrs. Cole, the skinny, sharp-faced woman who ran the orphanage, had had little good to say about the boy. They'd spoken for a few minutes after he'd arrived about what he'd lead her to believe was an offer to see to young Mr. Riddle's schooling. The story was that a very distant relative, who had recently heard of the poor boy's plight, had apparently decided to be generous. At first, the put-upon woman seemed almost eager to be rid of the boy, and after only a few minutes of conversation, Albus could easily see why.
The boy might very well be dangerous. Only eleven years old and already showing great magical ability – not only in very strong bouts of accidental magic, but, from what Mrs. Cole had said, it seemed apparent that the child could already preform a certain level of purposeful and controlled wandless magic.
And the fact that he'd used those talents to frighten, harass, and steal from the other orphans did not bode well.
Albus didn't need another Gellert to worry about.
He reached the top of the stairs and made his way down the dimly-lit hallway, the old floor boards groaning loudly beneath his feet. He paused outside a door to which a tiny scrap of paper had been pinned, bearing very precise handwriting that spelled out, "T. M. Riddle."
He knocked three times in quick succession.
A moment later the door was wrenched open, and Albus had his first glimpse of a handsome young boy with dark hair and cold, hard eyes.
The boy merely raised one eyebrow at his unexpected visitor.
"Good day, Mr. Riddle," Albus eventually began, "my name is Professor Albus Dumbledore. I'm a teacher at a rather peculiar school, one in which you might find yourself enrolled, if you are fortunate. Might I trouble you for a moment of your time?"
The boy seemed to carefully weigh the words he'd just heard before stepping back, and allowing the visitor into his room. Dumbledore took a seat upon the room's only chair, while the boy closed the door and then sat on the edge of the bed.
Albus considered the child for a moment. He seemed to hold himself in a constant state of tension, like a tightly-wound spring, ready to act or react, perhaps violently, if the situation suddenly merited such action.
"Before we get to the matter of your schooling, I'd like to clear the air about something that Mrs. Cole disclosed to me."
The boy narrowed his eyes at the mention of the matron who ran the orphanage.
"You see," Dumbledore continued, "she's let me know that you haven't shown the best behavior during your time here at Wool's. I'll have you know right now that misbehavior such as frightening other children or stealing from them will not be tolerated at Hogwarts, Mr. Riddle. So, before we go any further, I'll have your word that such behavior will cease from this moment forth."
The boy seemed to glare hatefully at him. Albus was quite sure that if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under by now.
"Fine," the boy finally said. "You have it."
"Good. With that out of the way, this is yours, then."
He reached into his pocket and drew forth a parchment envelop, sealed with purple wax, and addressed in green ink to "Tom Marvolo Riddle, Wool's Orphanage, London," and quickly handed it over.
The boy inspected it carefully before gently breaking the seal and hastily reading both the letter and the list of necessary school supplies. He eventually looked back up at Dumbledore.
"Magic?"
"That's right."
"Witchcraft and wizardry?
"Indeed."
"Are you here to take me to the asylum?"
Dumbledore smiled in a way that he hoped would come off as kindly while also pushing just a bit of magic into his eyes.
Everyone enjoyed a good twinkle.
"Merlin no. I assure you, magic is quite real. You're not crazy. I've heard from Mrs. Cole that you've been able to do some rather remarkable things, even without any formal training. You have the makings of a powerful wizard – if you go about it properly and stay on the right path, of course."
The boy again seemed to carefully weigh what he was hearing.
"Prove it."
"Pardon?"
"Prove to me that you're not from the asylum," he said. "Prove that magic really does exist. Do some, right here and now. And no parlor tricks."
Albus smiled and extracted his wand from the magically expanded pocket of his Muggle suit. He leveled it at the wardrobe – the only piece of furniture in the room apart from the bed, the chair, and a rather fragile looking trunk, and said one word.
"Incendio!"
With a thunderous roar and a flash of heat and light, the wardrobe was engulfed in crimson flame.
The boy jumped in surprise and fell to the floor, quickly scampering back against the wall, putting as much distance as he could between himself and the inferno that a moment before had been his wardrobe.
With a casual wave of his wand, Albus snuffed out the fire. Perhaps that had been a bit too much…
"That," the boy began as he turned his very wide eyes to look at Albus, "was AWESOME!"
What?
"How did you do that?"
"I—"
"Can you teach me to do that?!"
"Well that spell is taught in your—"
"You must be the most powerful wizard in the world!"
"Well, I don't know—"
"I'm going to be just like you when I grow up!"
"Really now—"
"You're probably the smartest professor at the whole school!"
"Mr. Riddle—"
"Hogwarts is a silly name, they should really call it: Dumbledore's Academy!"
"Now really—"
"Please tell me I can go there with you? Please?!"
"Yes, yes, Mr. Riddle, you can come to Hogwarts. That's why I'm here after all."
"This is going to be so much fun! I'm going to learn so much magic, and you're going to teach it all to me, and then we'll be partners and the best wizards who've ever lived!"
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, now, Mr. Riddle."
"But where do I get all these things on the supply list? I've never heard of half of this…"
"Not to worry, I'd be happy to take you on a trip to Diagon Alley. And don't worry about the cost, the school has a fund to help cover the supplies of students in need."
The boy – Tom – looked up at Albus with tears brimming in his eyes. His face looked almost… worshipful.
"You'd do that? For me?"
Albus signed internally. He could already tell – Tom Riddle was going to make his life rather interesting from here on out.
"Yes, Mr. Riddle, I'd be happy to introduce you to the world of magical Britain."
"This is the best day of my life! I'll do you proud, sir. You'll see. I promise. One day you'll look back on this day and say to yourself, this was the moment it all started!"
Albus thought that those words felt rather heavy, like they almost had an air of prophecy about them.
"Err… one last thing…"
"Yes, Mr. Riddle?"
"Are you absolutely certain that I'm not allowed to frighten the other students? Not even a little bit?"
Dumbledore sighed and closed his eyes.
"Okay! Okay!" Tom backtracked. "I just thought I'd check. I'm sure we'll find a way around it…"
Yes, Tom Riddle was definitely going to make his life rather interesting.
So, the idea is that, after seeing him perform the first bit of real magic he'd ever seen, which just so happened to be effortlessly setting something on fire, Tom Riddle thinks that Dumbledore is the best thing since sliced bread. And since the above took place in 1938 and sliced bread was only invented in 1928, the awesomeness of that invention was still fresh in people's minds, so that really says something about what Tom thinks about old Dumbledore.
This will be more like a Crack!fic series of loosely related scenes than an actual coherent story. It's meant to be funny. Hopefully someone will laugh.
Special thanks to u/naidhe form the Harry Potter Fanfiction subreddit (r/HPfanfiction) who proposed this idea and got my brain thinking about it. Naidhe has actually posted their own version of this idea on Archive of Our Own, so you should head over to AO3 and check out A Mentor's Burden by Naidhe. I'd post a link but FFN doesn't allow for that. Update! Naidhe has also posted it here on FFN as well - same title and author name.
And don't worry, I'm still working on Holocron which will remain my focus. This is just a plot bunny that is meant to amuse me (and you) every now and then.
So, what do you think? Leave a review and let me know! Thanks for reading!