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Across time and space, there comes a moment of existence when things flutter and change. Like a butterfly's fragile wings bringing about a tsunami of world-ending proportions, so, too, does a single decision, no matter when it is made.
In one such world, oh, some auspicious day after some frankly terrifying years facing the war against Grindelwald and hearing the terrors of [REDACTED] despite his distinctly non-magical inclinations, the extremely secret group that managed the Ministry, despite all indications to the contrary, put into motion the single biggest change that Wizarding Britain had seen.
Tom Marvolo Riddle, stepping out of Hogwarts and into the brave new world where, in another universe, he might have disappeared into the shadows, never to be seen again (as Tom, that is), received a single letter brought on the back of a single owl.
And time? Time changed.
Tom Riddle expected many jobs, opportunities, and offers when he graduated from Hogwarts. He’d made quite a few connections in Slytherin, after all. Not that he intended to cash in those offers quite yet, because his working plan had been Borgin and Burkes to facilitate the growing obsession with immortality. Not that it was an obsession, per se. Rather a goal. All to further his real goal of taking over–
Then he actually looked at the notice and frowned, confused, because, for one, he’d never actually applied for the job in the first place. For two, he really didn’t think that was how it worked.
… Did it?
Honestly, he’d never thought to check.
Still, the possibilities–
He immediately cast a dozen secret-revealing, fake-identifying, and whatever-else spells he could to verify the document in his hands. As every spell returned him a confirmation of the fact that the Ministry seal on the envelope and, therefore, the document within was completely and utterly real, a smile began to bloom on his face, something that, on any other person, would have looked deranged.
But on Tom Riddle, who had practiced it a million times in front of the mirror so he wouldn’t look deranged, it looked precisely as he wanted it to – handsome and charming, and by Merlin, this was better than all of his plans!
He grinned, scrapped his Borgin and Burkes’ plan, and cheerfully began to write out letters – to the ministry, accepting the position of the Minister for Magic and then to his… Well, perhaps he need not call them followers now since he’d need to maintain an image to retain his position as the Minister. Very well, then, to his friends, letting them know of his appointment and, therefore, his need for their support in keeping that position strong.
Of course, he knew they would help. He’d groomed them precisely so they’d support him, building up the image of the perfect pure-blood supporter with the best balance between strength and compassion (ugh). But he had groomed them originally to serve as his hands in an anarchist organization. This was going to require a tad bit more subtlety.
He hummed. No matter, he would manage. There was a reason the Sorting Hat placed him in Slytherin.
The sudden thought of Hogwarts made him almost cackle out loud. Oh, how he would love to be in the room when that fool, Albus Dumbledore, discovered that despite all his efforts, Tom had attained the highest possible position in the Wizarding World! His smile widened. And he had the perfect method to add to that torture, too.
Riddle Makes Minister! Is This A New Start For Britain?
Tom Marvolo Riddle: The NEW Minister For Magic
Minister Riddle Thanks Hogwarts Professor Albus Dumbledore
At Inauguration
The first year on the job, Tom found himself in a mess of a system he couldn’t look at without his eyes twitching in annoyance. Not only was everything incredibly inefficient, but nothing ran without ministerial approval! And perhaps that seemed like a good idea when he considered it in theory, but when he had to do everything for these idiots, he had no time to plan his own take-over-the-world gambits.
He wondered, in the first month, whether he should quit and return back to his original plan.
Then he realised the expression Albus Dumbledore would make if he did, and decided he would not.
Besides, he saw the far-reaching effects of the Ministry of Magic on England. If he could make the place more efficient, harness the powers, and streamline everything so it would serve his goals… well, that would make his own job so much easier.
So, the first year in, Minister Riddle set the very first of his goals – automating the Ministry by empowering the different Departments. It might seem like it would take away from his power, but he was still going to be at the top of the Ministry, and that meant he was in control.
He just wouldn’t have to worry about the horrid decisions that the bottom-feeders had to make. Definitely.
The second year into the job, Tom realised that he might be starting to make the place more efficient, but it wouldn’t work unless the people were more efficient. And if they weren’t more efficient, the place wouldn’t work, and he wouldn’t get the time to plan his evil plans and use his newfound power to take over the world.
The people in power, in truth, were (mostly) money-grubbing idiots who didn’t actually know what their departments did if the meetings he was holding regularly were any indication.
And the nerve of them! They were looking down on him! Offering him bribes to look away from their idiocy? Like Merlin he would! If their incompetency hadn’t convinced him, the bribery certainly would have because he was never going to accept morons who thought he was below them and there to be controlled. He was the one in control, thank you very much.
He fired the lot of them, of course. Luckily, though the previous ministers had apparently never utilised the law before – more the loss for them, of course, letting the fool department heads look down on them – it did have sections on removing people from posts on the basis of ethical breaches, which, of course, included bribery.
Well, they should really have been glad it included those subsections. If it hadn’t, Tom really wouldn’t have had any other option than to use a certain killing curse. Stealthily, of course.
Hmm, perhaps he should cultivate that secret elite group of assassins he had been planning to make before he changed his goal from terrorist to Minister.
Something to think about, at least.
Year Three came and went and Tom didn’t even realise it was Year Four until he got his head out of the massive piles of paperwork and realised he hadn’t even taken a vacation this time. Of course, his stupid friends – ugh – hadn’t even reminded him, too busy gushing about how much better the Ministry had been running under his rule.
Of course it was running better! He was Tom Riddle. He was great at everything he did.
He looked back at his desk and realised he still had a year of paperwork left to go over.
He wondered whether it was finally time to throw in the towel–
No, he told himself. He hadn’t yet gotten something out of this, but he was close! Albus Dumbledore would not yet defeat him! And he had heard somewhere or the other that that man was going to be one of the candidates for the next election.
Tom narrowed his eyes. Not if he could help it.
He jumped back into his work with gusto, running on the fumes of petty hatred and righteous fury mixed up into a cauldron of issues he was not going to deal with, and began to approve the now-trained new Department Heads he had personally selected from the options available in the departments. It was only a pity that a lot of them were half-bloods, but he’d smoothed it over with his Pureblood compatriots by explaining the plan.
As long as the departments operate smoothly, he told the Slytherins, I shall be looked at as a good Minister. And if that remains so, I will be re-elected and can change the departments as planned. You’ll have to train up the purebloods in the meantime, though, so it doesn’t look like I’m playing favourites.
And they listened, all because Image™.
Of course, he had no intentions of actually following through, because if Year Four had shown him anything, it was that his choices and training had actually worked. In fact, he penned in a reminder to set up a small-time academy once the current heads started to retire, where they could perhaps lead a few sessions using the training they’d been given so the training could be even better. Kind of like those colleges in the Muggle world, Tom realised distastefully, but tactfully mentioned to absolutely no one, because that would be such a Gryffindor mistake to make.
Tom Riddle was re-elected the Minister for Magic with so much majority vote, he had to sneer and ask his opponents (in the privacy of his own mind, because Image™) why they even bothered. Dumbledore had, apparently, joined in the race, but the massive difference in votes between the older man and Tom fuelled his spite and smugness the whole year through.
Of course, there were still a few too many problems, and he still didn’t have time to make his Evil Plans™, but small steps. And besides, there was an amazing headiness in being able to take over the wizarding world in a way that even the great Albus Dumbledore (the Fool) couldn’t stop because, and this was important, it was completely legal.
Tom Riddle smiled just a little too widely and publicly thanked Dumbledore again, just to rub it in his face.
Years Six to Ten were busier than ever. Tom had thought things would die down, that it would become simpler, but apparently, he had no such luck because a stupid idiot thought he could be a Dark Lord. The nerve of him! No one had the right to be a dark lord before Tom did! He was not going to allow an idiot to take the position that was (once) going to be his! And besides, he was terrible at it.
So Tom had to put every resource into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement so that he wouldn’t ruin everything Tom had put into this place. Besides, his – ugh – friends told him, if he let the man run amok, he would probably lose a lot of voters in the next election. And since Dumbledore was probably going to enter next time too, just to annoy Tom, if, for no other reason, there was no other option than to destroy the fool who was pretending he had the charisma to be a Dark Lord.
Of course, Tom timed it just perfectly enough that he defeated him before election year and managed to be on the scene, too, so the papers caught a particularly amazing shot of him, too. Sometimes, he amazed himself with his own charm.
In any case, he won in a landslide victory, yet again.
Dumbledore lost, yet again.
(Strangely, though, this time, Tom felt a shiver run down his spine, telling him something had gone horribly, terribly wrong. But then his assistant popped up with another pile of paperwork to go over, and he sighed, returning to work. He would have time to think about this later. Re-election always was such a busy time.)
This time, Tom told himself, he was going to set aside time to make his plans. Now that the wizarding world was starting to stabilise, the departments were self-sufficient, and all the idiots in the Ministry had been purged in favour of more competent workers, he could serve to be a little lax and begin to put his claws into Britain a little more. They would never see him coming! Merlin, they might even be happy he did, because his image was so perfect then-adays that he could do no wrong. His friends had assured him of that.
… and then the stupid Muggle world had to ruin all his plans!
Merlin Dammit, why hadn’t he built that secret group of elite assassins again? He could have sent them out to assassinate the stupid heads of the stupid space race before it even started, and he wouldn’t have had to deal with the mess that came from it!
Now, they were a little too high profile, and Britain was a little too involved. And while Tom could care less for Muggle Britain’s involvement, he had to think about it at least a little bit because Muggle Britain was involved with Wizarding Britain, and, more importantly, if the muggles managed what they were proposing–
Oh, Tom was getting a headache now.
He had to put the experimental charms committee on working on shielding charms that could be built into wards and work as shields from satellites and rockets now, and while that would, unfortunately, draw them away from those experiments on the Inferi that he needed them to do for his Evil Plans™, there were priorities. It would not benefit him in any way should the muggles find out about wizards because he just couldn’t manage the cloaking right. He knew what happened in Hiroshima, and even the best shield charm probably couldn’t protect him from that.
He shuddered.
He really wished he’d built that assassin squad.
Ten. Twenty. Thirty.
Re-election, Re-election, Re-election–
Tom realised, perhaps a little too late, that there was someone who was going around voting for him and convincing others to vote for him. And that someone was the exact person who he was striving to win against in those very elections.
Albus Dumbledore.
Tom was already re-elected, but if he’d known—
But no, it didn’t matter. The space race was finally over. Wizarding Britain was safe. And now, Tom could finally work on those Evil Plans–
Merlin, did those stupid Dark Lords never get the memo?!
1990:
Tom Riddle, the longest-lasting Minister for Magic in Britain, glared at Albus Dumbledore. “No,” He said. “I’m retiring.”
Albus smiled charmingly. “Ah, but Tom,” He said, and it was the most horrible thing Tom had ever heard. He really should have changed his name when he had the chance, but alas, now he was left with this one, and he really could do nothing about it because he was so well-known. “If I can remain the Headmaster–”
“I don’t care,” Tom said. “I need a vacation.”
Albus didn’t stop smiling. “You just got re-elected.”
“I know it was because of you!” Tom said loudly. “You– you’ve been doing this for years! You ought to have been a Slytherin!”
Albus’s eyes twinkled maddeningly. “I certainly didn’t start this,” He pointed out. “I just… pushed it forward. And hasn’t this been so much better?”
Tom scowled. “No. My plans–”
“To take over the world?” Albus asked calmly.
Tom, who had already experienced what it was like running a country he’d taken over, groaned at the implication. “Right now,” He said stiffly because he definitely didn’t want to admit Dumbledore was right. “I just want to leave. I think the Maldives should be great this time of the year.”
“Hmm,” Albus said. “Very well. I guess I’ll have to let Professor McGonagall know she is to be the next headmistress.”
Tom stilled. “... What?” He demanded icily.
“Well, surely you can’t expect the position of Minister to remain empty?” Albus asked. “I would be more than happy to–”
“Over my dead body!” Tom snapped. “I’m good for five more years, thanks. They elected me, not you.”
Albus didn’t stop smiling. “Ah, but what about the Maldives?”
Tom knew the old coot was manipulating him, but by Merlin, he was so annoying. “They can wait,” He said through gritted teeth. “I’m sure they’ll be here after the next election year.”
“Pity,” Albus said. “I was looking forward to getting my chance this time.”
Tom narrowed his eyes as he watched him leave, hands itching to do something, but Image™ demanded he not.
Well, he consoled himself, he could always have his adorable proteges and their friends rain hell down on the Headmaster. There was a reason he kept in the good books of the various department heads in their families. He was especially sure the Arthur Weasley’s twins wouldn’t hesitate to help out. He’d already been given many reports of their mutiny against the Headmaster, and surely they would love to be even more chaotic once he granted them immunity from their mother—