Voldemort reappeared in York, England. He heard a gasp, which caused him to turn. Voldemort had specifically apparated into an abandoned house to avoid any sighting, but here in this damaged building was a man in dirty clothes staring at the Dark Lord with his mouth open in shock.
The Dark Lord had to cover his snake-like nose from the foul smell.
"Disgusting." Voldemort turned around, not before setting the Muggle on fire. The cries were music to his ears as he watched the Muggle finally take his last breath.
The reason why Voldemort put so much effort into making Umbridge the headmistress and getting her to retrieve the names from the Book of Admittance was that, on top of writing the child's name, the full address was also registered.
That was shown in the case of Harry Potter, where his letter of admission mentioned his location as under the stairs. By following the one given to him by Dolores, Voldemort was able to easily find his target.
Arthur Finch was the seven-year-old Muggle boy whose name was among those on the list. The child was destined to attend Hogwarts in 1999, but Voldemort had other plans for him, as he had just found his location.
Floating above the ground, Voldemort floated toward the small, modest house.
ALOHOMORA.
The front door unlocked, and he slipped inside without a sound.
The scene before him was almost blissful.
Arthur, the boy, was running around the living room, preventing her mother from catching her. He was giggling as he evaded her mother's grasp. His father was sitting on the sofa, a smile on his face. This was his favorite game: acting as a savior, and her mother was a monster trying to catch him. All he had to do was free his father from the 'prison'.
For a moment, Voldemort observed them in silence, his lips curling into a cruel smile.
The child would never remember this happiness, not after tonight.
Then, as if sensing the outsider in the room, the boy stopped on his track. "What happened, Art? The tickling monster is coming for you." The mother, still in her playful mood, questioned her son, but the latter remained motionless. Arthur was staring at the corridor leading to the front door.
Did he see something?
The next instant, Arthur's expression changed, his eyes filled with terror as he let out a piercing cry. The parents froze, and their gazes turned toward the direction Arthur was facing. And they saw an intruder.
A monster. No. A ghost. The devil.
This was the reaction of the parents upon seeing the floating creature inside their own living room.
The father's face twisted in shock, and he instinctively stepped between Voldemort and his family, shielding his wife and child from the vile creature.
"What… what are you?" The father had never felt so scared in his entire life.
Voldemort tilted his head, amused by the reaction.
He let out a low, chilling laugh. "How touching. A father's courage. At least you are not like my father, a muggle abandoning his family. For that, I will not make you suffer."
Before the man could react further, Voldemort moved. With a flick of his wand, a stunning spell shot out, striking the man directly in the chest. He fell to the ground, unconscious. The mother barely had time to scream before she, too, was hit with the same spell. Everything happened so fast that Arthur could not even process what was happening. A second, he was playing with his parents, and the next instant, the devil caused both his mother and father harm.
As Arthur watched his parents lie motionless on the ground, Voldemort closed the distance and grabbed the child by his chin.
This brought Arthur back to reality as he saw a pair of serpent-like eyes staring directly into his. But before the boy's body could react and let out tears due to fear, he was stopped.
"Silence," Voldemort commanded. "You can only blame all this on your ancestors for spoiling our pureblood with that of mud."
Then it happened.
Voldemort invaded Arthur's mind.
For a veteran like the Dark Lord, this was a child's plan. New memories and commands were ingrained in the boy's mind. "You will fear your magic," Voldemort murmured. "It will be your burden, your curse. You will never seek to use it, for it will bring you only pain." The child whimpered as the dark magic seeped into his mind, wrapping around his thoughts like chains.
"You will not remember me," Voldemort said as he was done, "But you will remember what I leave behind."
Rising, Voldemort moved to his father and mother and began his work. Voldemort reshaped their thoughts, implanting false memories. The man's warm, protective nature was replaced with aggression, a distrust of anything abnormal. He would now see his son's magic not as a gift, but as a curse.
The mother was next.
Voldemort's spells twisted her love into fear, her nurturing instincts into paranoia. She would see her son as a threat, a source of endless shame and trouble. Together, the parents would unknowingly become the architects of their child's misery.
When Voldemort was satisfied, he stepped back, savoring his work. The parents began to regain consciousness, their eyes fluttering open as the false memories took hold. The child's cries grew softer, more fearful, as he clung to his mother, who now regarded him with unease.
The scene returned to normal as if nothing had happened.
This new Voldemort was not like the previous one. Arrogant. Fill with overconfidence.
He knew that as time went on, the breaking of his soul for the Horcrux ritual would mess with his mind, causing him to slip.
As such, he was going to make sure that everything was going to happen the way he planned. Voldemort flew back into a hidden corner as he observed the Muggle family regaining their consciousness.
Arthur had the impression that he had been in some daze for a moment. But the feeling left him as suddenly as it came, and everything around him was as it had always been.