Tears of a Basilisk

Journal entry the eighth


I think I've done this journal an injustice by neglecting most of the events that happened before my second year. When I started writing in here, I thought that it would just be a purge of most of the data that I've accumulated regarding what my future actions will be. As I was writing, I started to get the feeling that there were missing pieces of the puzzle, that perhaps my own assumptions needed to be challenged. For example, from the family tree I knew that Tom was my sire and Lily my mother. I assumed that I was the result of a brief affair on Lily's part, perhaps after a fight with James. People do hurtful things in anger after all. Since the events I speak of happened so long ago that any living witness is suspect, especially considering most, if not all, of them have had their minds altered by the coot, I decided to go straight to the source, as it were. After my last entry, I headed to the last place most people would expect, indeed I'm sure most people weren't aware that I even knew where it was, Godric's Hollow. My goal was to ask Lily and James Potter directly about the events surrounding my conception, and several other events that seem suspect to me.


Summoning is one of my blood gifts, but it's utterly exhausting. In the case of summoning spirits that have died violent deaths, it's usually easier to go to the spot where they died, hence my late night visit. In life, they may have been under spells to control their minds, but the dead are immune from this. I knew that, if I could summon either or both of them, that I would have a pure, untainted source of information.


After a truly exhausting rite, where I had to remove every single one of my glamours, I managed to successfully summon both. Before you wonder, yes, I have worn constant glamours since my second year. After all, it was expected that I look like a carbon copy of James Potter, so seeing that in real life I closely resemble my real father would work to my disadvantage. Even when I go out in the world with my real appearance, I still wear glamours to cover the ravages of my illness. I wear a lot of glamours on a daily basis, so it was a real pain to have to remove all of them, since to leave them on would risk botching the summon, and I wouldn't have enough energy for another attempt. Tip to any summoners who read this: when attempting even the smallest rite, make sure that you wear your real, natural appearance, even blemish covers could screw things up, and the backlash is a bitch.


I was so relieved that I survived the dual summon that I almost forgot why I had summoned them in the first place. Seeing my parents for basically the first time did not provoke any extreme emotional response that one would expect. I wasn't overjoyed, angry, or wistful, all that I experienced was the relief of performing the rite correctly and intellectual curiosity. This shocked them, I think, because they looked at me wistfully, but almost as if I was a stranger to them. I proceeded to ask my questions, and what I found out shocked even me. Are you ready, dear reader? I recommend sitting down, I fell head over arse.


Another one of my notions was that the coot's mind-meddling only really spread when it came close to my first year of Hogwarts, that before my pending arrival the only mind-bending was done to poor Tom in order to squeeze him into the Dark Lord mold. I was wrong, so very wrong. Tom wasn't his only early victim. I was shocked to hear that most of their classmates, including all the Marauders and Severus, were being manipulated.


From their arrival, the Marauders were more or less forced to become friends through proximity and subtle mind-screwing. I'm sure that they developed a true friendship over time, but Dumbles still had a hold on each of them. From the beginning, he planted the seed in their brains that Severus would make a prime target. I'm still not sure as to the true reason for this, but my educated guess would be that he wanted to alienate poor Sev so that he could step in and 'save' him, eventually, putting yet another powerful, clever wizard under his control. He was the merry puppetmaster even then. After graduation, he maintained his hold over all his pawns, using them in ways that make even I shudder.


Some things did happen on their own, such as James and Lily falling in love, Severus pursuing his mastery, and so forth. What didn't happen on its own was my conception. After getting James and Lily involved in the laughable Order, he made one of his boldest moves to date. He was not very happy with Tom's performance as a Dark Lord, and suspected that he might have built some resistance to his meddling. The coot didn't want to lose control over the current Heir of Slytherin, so he decided that the best way would be to start anew, so that he would be able to control the new Heir's entire life from start to finish. How did he pull this off, you might wonder. Well, he just happened to have under his control a first-generation happily married witch of child-bearing age, married to a person who bore a slight resemblance to Tom. After a couple well-placed memory charms, he sent Lily off, under a disguise, to go seduce Tom until she became pregnant. After conception, she would leave Tom instantly and she and James would resume their life as normal. Of course, Tom would forget soon after her departure, never giving it a second thought. James and Lily would bear and raise the child as their own, until it was time to set up one of the greatest staged events in history.


Yes, I refer to that fateful Halloween long ago. It would have been inconvenient to have two loving parents influencing his latest project, and Tom was starting to outlive his usefulness. It would really throw a wrench in the coot's plans if Voldemort actually won, so lucky me, I won the martyr lottery. Worked out nicely for the coot, Tom dies, Potters die, Marauders all missing or ineligible for custody, and little baby Harry left at his tender mercies to shape and mold as he saw fit. He had no intention of having me die after all, he set Tom up to use the Killing Curse on a bug and then kill himself. Would have worked out nicely, if things had gone to plan. Except, of course, his gross incompetence regarding background research screwed him over royally. If he had known what the Durstleys would do to me, I'm not sure if he would have sent me there. He wanted me to have low self-esteem and a general level of abuse, not what actually happened which crippled me emotionally and physically. Shoddy work, if you ask me. He couldn't have known about Tom's ability to spiritwalk, or that I would be struck with the curse along with the fly that landed on my forehead, I'll give him that. He might have been perplexed about my scar, but since no one's supposed to be able to stop the Killing Curse he most likely thought it to be inconsequential, and even helpful to his cause. He screwed over a lot of people just to be able to play hero again.


This is a lot to ponder over, and it does change the shape of the playing field significantly. So many wrongs to address.... It'll take longer than I thought, if the adjustments I made to my calculations are correct. I hope, for all our sakes, that I can hold on long enough. I don't want to think about the consequences of my failure. I must protect the students, and all the lives Hogwarts touches. I made that vow long ago, and I will find a way. I have to. I'm just so bloody tired.


Could it all have been a lie? The pranks, the taunting, generally making my life a living hell, all so that some crazy old man could feel like a hero again? Even though these entries have all been truthful, as far as we know, I can't just accept this account of events at face value. A properly skilled Legilmens should be able to check for long term memory modification. I sincerely hope that our revelations will prove this account wrong, otherwise so much of what I am has been based on lies and misconceptions. We all could have had chances at real lives. I can't even have a drink to numb the shock. I'm not relying on the firewhiskey too much, am I? A question for another night, perhaps.