Even If It Costs My Life!

The younger Dumbledore sat in the chair behind his desk, clearly waiting for someone.

Before long.

Voldemort entered.

He was no longer handsome. Though he had not yet become as snake-like as when Harry had seen him, the beginnings were already there.

His face looked as though it had been burned, his features blurred and twisted strangely.

In short, if he went outside and claimed to be Tom Riddle, probably no one would believe him.

"Good evening, Tom!"

"I heard you became Headmaster. A respectable choice."

Voldemort said coolly.

Dumbledore laughed.

"A drink?"

"Thank you!"

Dumbledore took out a bottle and poured a glass for Voldemort and himself.

"So, Tom, what wind has blown you here..."

"I am no longer called Tom. They call me..."

"Of course I know what they call you. For instance, they are currently waiting in the Hog's Head Inn, preparing to celebrate your becoming a Hogwarts professor!"

"Nothing can be hidden from you. I have come to apply for Defense Against the Dark Arts. I want to teach my students my ideals!"

Voldemort declared, full of lofty rhetoric.

Dumbledore laughed.

"If even half the rumors about your deeds are true, Hogwarts could never accept you."

"Greatness breeds jealousy, jealousy breeds resentment, and resentment breeds lies, does it not?

I have traveled a long, long road. I have brought the Dark Arts to an unimaginable height..."

"No, no, only certain forms of magic. In certain fields, you are still as childish as ever."

"Dumbledore, I know you are going to speak of love again. What is love? I do not understand it, nor do I need to. Can love make you immortal? Can love make you powerful?

No, only the Dark Arts can!"

Dumbledore set down his wineglass with a cold laugh.

"Forgive me, Tom, but