Solve the Riddle

Summary: Harry's in the past. There is no 'Lord' Voldemort. However, if Harry expects things to be easier just because he's older and Riddle's younger, he's going to be sorely disappointed. Harry's never been one for giving up, but neither has Riddle, and as they both are forced to work together- in more ways than one- the stakes slowly change. [Time travel, Dimensional travel, fem!Riddle]

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter because I wasn't born earlier enough to write it and I'm not rich enough to buy the rights.

Chapter Three: A New Job

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August 17, 1949

"You are here for the Charms position." Armando Dippet stared at Harry, looking rather imposing with his stern frown and piercing gaze. It wasn't like Dumbledore's, where you felt like you were being x-rayed. Instead, it made Harry feel as if Dippet was going to cut him in half with laser vision at any moment.

"Yes, Sir," Harry replied.

"It wasn't a question," Dippet said.

Harry wisely chose to not to respond that time.

"Your qualifications are above average NEWTs and a dueling championship."

Harry nodded in response.

"However," Dippet said, "you were homeschooled. What guarantee do you have that you are able to handle a structured curriculum?"

"I can perform any of the required spells, any of the spells in any of the Standard Book of Spells series. I can also-"

Dippet held up a hand and Harry stopped talking. "I did not ask how proficient you are in charms. An Outstanding score on your NEWT generally indicates that you are fairly competent in that regard. I am asking what puts you ahead of any other applicants. Hogwarts is a prestigious school, and we accept only the best."

"I understand that, Sir," Harry said. "I'm a dueling champion."

"Which is no proof at all," Dippet said, shaking his head. "I have not observed professional dueling in over a century. You could have transfigured your opponents into toads to win, or you might have used a curse to give them crippling indigestion. Your title does not speak for your charms skills, Mr. Evans. And even if it did, we are talking about your ability to teach a large number of students in a structured course."

"What do you want from me?" Harry asked, growing frustrated. "Hogwarts is the only formal Wizarding school for all of the United Kingdom. There's nowhere else I could have gotten experience, aside from a nearly as prestigious school in a different country."

"I am not looking for you to already be perfect," Dippet said. "I am looking for knowledge- experience can come later."

"I know how to teach a structured course," Harry said. "If it's knowledge you want, quiz me!"

"Very well," Dippet said. "However, I have neither the time, nor the patience, to conduct your examination."

"Then who will?" Harry asked.

Dippet frowned at him, possibly even more harshly than before. "Patience is a virtue, young man. Had you simply waited another thirty seconds, you would know, without needing to look like a fool."

Harry chose not to point out that Dippet had just said that his own patience was limited, and that he didn't really have the right to be scolding Harry about the exact same thing.

A second later, there was a knock on the office doors.

"Come in!" Dippet called.

The door creaked open, and a man sidled through before shutting it. He turned around and it was all Harry could do not to gasp. It was a younger Dumbledore, practically identical to the one he'd seen in the older Dumbledore's memories, as well as the one in Tom's diary. He quickly schooled his face and hoped that Dumbledore would simply take his shock as being because he recognized Dumbledore as the vanquisher of Grindelwald.

It was his old Headmaster in all his glory, except for the fact that Dumbledore wasn't quite so old here, and his hair was still auburn. Boy, that was gonna take some getting used to. Logically, he'd known that by applying for a position here, he was going to run into Dumbledore. He just hadn't expected it to be so soon, and there was also the fact that seeing was believing.

"You called, Headmaster?" Dumbledore said politely.

"Dumbledore," Dippet said. "This young man is applying for the Charms post. Unfortunately, he's not had any formal schooling; homeschooled, you know how it is. So, I need to you to examine him, in whatever fashion you prefer. Judge his suitability towards teaching a structured course. As always, I trust your judgement."

"Very well, Headmaster," Dumbledore said, inclining his head. Dumbledore waved his hand in a follow-me motion, evidently aimed at Harry. He got up to follow the older wizard, taking a glance back at the current Headmaster as he left the office and seeing the old man already back to whatever he'd been working on before Harry had entered.

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Mary sighed as she stared at the head floating in her fireplace. "Yes, Rufus? What is it?"

Lestrange's eyes still showed the same fear that they had since the incident two months earlier, but he soldiered on nonetheless. "It's Avery, My Lady."

'Of course it is,' she thought, sighing again.

"What has he done now?" she asked.

"He asked me to find someone for him, My Lady." Lestrange cringed back when she frowned harshly.

"This someone wouldn't happen to be a man by the name of Harry Evans, would it?" Mary asked.

"Er, yes, My Lady," Lestrange said. "He said that he hadn't been able to find the person in two days of searching."

"And he asked you to scry for him," Mary finished. "You always were talented at Divination, Rufus."

"Thank you, My Lady," he said, smirking faintly. No doubt he would be bragging about the praise around the rest of her Knights for the next week, at least. It was pathetic how much like little children they were, vying for a scrap of attention. "I was unable to find him, however, indicating that he is behind above average wards."

"Is that all?" she asked.

"Yes, My Lady," Lestrange said.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Rufus," she said. Giving out the praise, even for an insignificant thing, cost her nothing and significantly increased Lestrange's loyalty. "Tell everyone else that Avery is not to be assisted further in his harebrained scheme. I am busy at the moment and cannot be bothered to deal with more of his reckless attempts at spying."

"Yes, My Lady," Lestrange repeated.

"You may go," she said. Lestrange's head was gone a second later and she slumped back in her chair with a sigh.

Avery's scheme was an exhausting thing to deal with. Could he not understand that his spying was pointless? Harry Evans was a dueling champion and had his NEWTs. That did not automatically make him her greatest enemy. No, that was still Dumbledore.

What it did make him was adept at all sorts of spells and he no doubt knew that Avery was tracking him. If anyone ruined everything, it would be Avery- not Harry Evans.

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"Harry Evans," Dumbledore said.

Dumbledore was sitting at the desk in what was presumably his office, while Harry was sitting in a chair on the other side. Dumbledore's chair, of course, was rather more ornate than his own, as well as obviously more comfortable. When he'd still been in school, Harry would have believed that Dumbledore simply liked cushy chairs. Now, he was more inclined to think that it was an intimidation tactic.

No, his view of Dumbledore hadn't been affected at all by his knowledge of the man's decision to sacrifice him. Not one tiny bit. Not one.

"Albus Dumbledore," Harry replied. He kept his face blank even as he felt like giggling on the inside. His inner giggling was from a combination of nervousness, relief, and the humor he felt at subtly sassing someone who he'd always looked up to; even when he'd felt utterly betrayed by the man, he had still held him in high regard.

"You've applied to the Charms position?"

"Yes." He'd been tempted to say something along the lines of 'that's what they tell me,' but Harry knew this wasn't the time for jokes. Well, it probably could have been if he'd known Dumbledore better, or as the case may be, Dumbledore knew him better. But Dumbledore didn't, so the point was moot.

"I have no doubt that the Headmaster has already listed your rather average list of qualifications."

What was this? Beat up on your friendly neighborhood time traveler day? He'd only had a year to build up a resumé! Admittedly, he hadn't done all that much, but he also hadn't expected this job opening and more importantly, he'd been dealing with the emotional and practical repercussions of being in a new place without any form of identity.

"Yes," he said shortly.

"What do you believe is your best charm?" Dumbledore asked, leaning forward.

"But," Harry said, "the-"

"-Headmaster told you that your NEWT was enough regarding your competency, correct?" Dumbledore finished Harry's sentence for him.

"Yes," Harry said.

"Headmaster Dippet is a . . . stern man," Dumbledore said. "Not so surprising, when you consider his age and life experience. But he sometimes looks too much at statistics and too little at actual people."

Obvious frustration flashed across Dumbledore's face before the man caught himself and regained his former slightly cheerful expression. It was too late though- Harry had definitely seen it, and was wondering what had caused it. From what he'd seen in his sixth year private lessons, he'd assumed that Dumbledore and Dippet had been on good terms. Had he been wrong?

And Dumbledore almost never looked visibly frustrated. Had Dumbledore just been more prone to expressing his emotions when he was younger? Harry discarded the train of thought, figuring that he'd probably find out later, most likely by complete accident. As ridiculous as leaving it up to chance sounded, it was even more ridiculous how often the strategy worked out for him.

"Ah," Harry said, feeling the need to interject something but really having no idea what to say to Dumbledore's uncharacteristic grumbling.

"Yes," Dumbledore said, "quite. On that note, if you could possibly perform your best charm for me . . .?"

"By best, you mean . . ." Harry prompted.

"Your most powerful," Dumbledore said. "The one you're most proficient at. Your most useful charm. Your personal favorite, even. What do you believe defines 'best?'"

"Got it," Harry said, nodding to show he understood. He had his wand out in a flash and a second later, a silvery stag shot out the end, starting at a gallop but slowing to a trot an instant later as it searched for enemies. It turned around to face Harry, who waited a moment longer before dispelling it.

"A corporeal patronus," Dumbledore said mildly. "Very impressive. When did you learn?"

"I was thirteen," Harry said.

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose. "Is that so? That's quite a feat. Is there any particular reason you learned so early?"

"I was visiting someone in Azkaban," Harry said smoothly. "I had a poor reaction to the Dementors. My parents were murdered when I was one, you see, and the Dementors dredged up those memories. I can still remember their deaths clearly to this day. A blessing and a curse, really."

His answer had been one part lie and five parts truth. It had also been rather clipped, but that had been because he still didn't like even thinking about his parents' deaths, not because he was trying to form a more elaborate ruse.

"I'm very sorry to hear that," Dumbledore said, actually looking apologetic.

Harry felt the urge to groan and put his head in his hands. It was hard to hate Dumbledore even when he was being professional; blatant reminders that Dumbledore was generally a good, moral person weren't helping him hold his grudge. It had been so much easier when the only way of communicating to Dumbledore was through a portrait that only contained a facsimile at best, and an impostor at worst. Harry had never really decided on what he believed about wizarding portraits, despite the many theories and opinions that went around.

"It's fine," Harry said. He laughed, though it came out a bit flat. "I'm over it, mostly."

"Hmm," Dumbledore said, though he didn't offer further thoughts.

"Is there anything else I should do?" Harry asked when Dumbledore didn't seem inclined to continue the conversation. "Like maybe figure out a brief lesson plan or something like that?"

"No," Dumbledore said. "That won't be necessary. Anything you came up with now wouldn't be your best work or even a viable lesson plan, bereft as you are of the source material or even an example from a previous year. It would also take quite long. Unless you have an exceptional memory?" He peered over his glasses at Harry.

"Merlin, no," Harry said. His laugh was more genuine this time. "I wish, though. So, any other charms you want me to showcase?"

"I do not believe so," Dumbledore said. "In fact, I believe this interview is complete."

"Huh?" Harry said eloquently. That was it? But they'd talked for about five minutes and Harry had only showcased one spell. What? Wait, had he failed some kind of pre-test hidden in the conversation?

"That will be all, Mr. Evans." Dumbledore smiled at him. "You will receive an owl no later than the nineteenth."

"Wait," Harry said. "Is that if I get chosen only?"

"If you don't, as well," Dumbledore said, chuckling. "It would be a rather poor joke to simply keep you in suspense, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah." Harry was relieved to have gotten that guarantee. He'd assumed that the school was professional enough to do that, but it was nice to know for sure.

Dumbledore led the way back to the castle doors before turning around to face Harry once again. He held out his hand to shake. "It was a pleasure talking to you, Mr. Evans."

"You too, Professor," Harry said, grasping his hand and shaking it. They both dropped the handshake and turned different directions almost at the same time. Dumbledore strode, Harry presumed, towards the Headmaster's office to report to Dippet. Harry jogged in the opposite direction, disapparating the moment he left the ward boundaries.

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August 19, 1949

Harry stared at the letter in his hand, absentmindedly feeding the screech owl a piece of bacon.

Well, this was it. This letter would tell him whether he was currently a Hogwarts Professor or a deadbeat. He wouldn't necessarily care about being a deadbeat, but being a professor at his alma mater was infinitely more preferable.

There was just a sense of, 'Haha, I assign the homework now, suckers,' when he thought of teaching at Hogwarts. Being employed at the school would also help establish his position in society, as well as get him closer to Dumbledore. He was still a bit pissed at the man, but that didn't change the fact that Dumbledore was a very powerful, very influential wizard who he definitely wanted on his side.

Going against Dumbledore . . . Harry shuddered at the thought. Even thinking of going against an older, dying Dumbledore was inconceivable. Facing the man in his prime, when he'd just defeated Grindelwald? Sure, his copy of the Deathstick would counter Dumbledore's, but even on his best day, he could never be sure of pulling out a victory over the man.

He shook his head to clear it. There was no point thinking about that right now. If all went well, he wouldn't have to worry about that at all.

He opened the envelope, taking a deep breath before unfolding the parchment inside.

Harry stared at the actual writing for a second before celebrating with a quick fist pump and a hissed "Yes!"

To some people, being a professor at Hogwarts was just a job. To others, it was a prestigious position and something to be sought after above all else. To even more still, it was a target of hatred and fondness in turn, largely depending on the homework load and subject material. To Harry, it was a means to an end, a way to ensure that his friends- and if he could swing it, the entire wizarding world as well- were much better off than last time.

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August 22, 1949

Harry gingerly pushed open the doors of the staffroom. It wasn't his first time in the room, but considering the last time was when he was a second year and hiding from the teachers in a wardrobe . . . he didn't exactly have the clearest memory of the room.

The room was large, larger than any of the classrooms for sure. It was paneled and dark wooden chairs were arrayed all around the room. Of course, many of these chairs were taken up by the various professors who had arrived before him. He was still ten minutes early; he hadn't wanted to risk being late. First impressions were everything, after all.

Being a Hogwarts professor was a new experience, and it was subsequently very exciting for him. In fact, it was probably the most exciting thing he'd done in close to two years.

Somehow, even knowing that it would be the case, he was surprised at seeing a room full of mostly unfamiliar professors. The only one he recognized was Slughorn, and even then only just barely; this younger Slughorn still had his original hair color and his girth wasn't quite so eye catching. Apparently Dumbledore wasn't there yet. He had no idea if anyone else was missing, considering the fact that he couldn't tell the custodian from the nurse at the moment.

Harry glanced around the room for a second, wondering what to do. There seemed to be no particular order to who was sitting where, or who was even sitting. On his second pass, he saw Slughorn waving him over. With a quick look around to make sure that it was him that Slughorn was signaling, he made his way over.

He pasted a cheerful smile on his face. "Harry Evans."

"Horace Slughorn, my dear boy." Slughorn was just as overly amiable as ever. Hopefully, there would be no surprises here; Harry hadn't really had any chance to figure out why Dumbledore seemed at odds with Dippet, but he was still a bit put off by it. "You must be the new Charms Master, eh?"

"Nice to meet you," Harry said, holding out his his hand. He vaguely remembered learning something about how he should let someone with more experience in a shared job offer their own hand first, but he doubted Slughorn would care much. And he wasn't completely sure of his remembrance anyway.

Slughorn gripped it firmly with one his own, shaking it firmly twice before letting go. "A pleasure."

"Right," Harry said. "Where should I sit, by the way? I can't help but notice that there doesn't seem to be any particular order, but if there is, I don't want to mess anything up . . ."

He was probably being rude by forgoing small talk, but it wasn't like they'd have much time for it anyways, what with the staff meeting being in just barely over five minutes.

"Not to worry," Slughorn said. "There are hardly any rules regarding our seating arrangements. Of course, the headmaster always sits against the back wall, with Dumbledore next to him- you have met Dumbledore, haven't you?"

Harry nodded.

"Good, good," Slughorn said, nodding slightly before leaning towards Harry as his voice dropped in volume. "Well, between you and me, Dumbledore and Dippet . . . well, their interactions have seemed a bit strained for a while now. Not to say it's affected their efficiency at all. No, those two have always been very good about scheduling and the like." At least Harry now knew that he hadn't been the only one to notice it. Which would have been strange, because some of the teachers here were bound to know the Dumbledore of this time far better than he did.

Well, it looked like he wasn't exactly being given a choice on the issue of small talk. Might as well take advantage of it. "Strained? Why, though? I mean, I seem to recall Dippet saying something to Dumbledore along the lines of, 'as usual, I'll trust your judgement,' when he was telling Dumbledore to judge me for the position." This could be his chance to figure out what exactly was going on with his old headmaster at the moment.

"Ah, well . . ." Slughorn said, clearly uncomfortable sharing more. Dumbledore had probably either told him about the situation in confidence or Slughorn had uncovered something on his own that made him uncomfortable to share.

"It's fine," Harry said, holding his hands up placatingly. "I was just curious." Not true in the slightest. Harry was sure he could defeat Slughorn in a duel ten times out of ten, but the man was wily, and more importantly, a genuinely good person at heart. Harry just didn't want him as an enemy. Really, he didn't want anyone as his enemy at the moment aside from Voldemort and the current Death Eaters. And he'd no doubt find out what was up sooner or later, now that he was a professor.

Slughorn still looked a bit uncomfortable. After a noticeable pause, he started talking again. "Harry Evans . . . you're the most recent European Dueling Champion, aren't you?" Slughorn plastered on an expression of dawning comprehension, convincing enough that if Harry wasn't ninety nine percent sure Slughorn had known who he was before he stepped into the room, he might have been fooled.

"That's me," Harry said, smiling amiably. The expression was faked, of course. Just because he'd gotten used to flaunting his fame when required didn't mean he liked doing it any more than he had as a teenager.

"Ah," Slughorn said, leaning back. "I thought so, but I wasn't sure. One of my old students, you see-"

He paused, glancing at the door. Harry listened carefully and could soon make out two voices. One sounded like Dumbledore and the other, though it took Harry a moment to place him, was definitely Dippet.

"Well, it looks like we're going to have to cut this conversation short," Slughorn said, chuckling.

Harry hummed in agreement, listening to the voices. They came ever closer, and as they did, Harry could make out a third voice. The third didn't contribute much to the conversation, which seemed to revolve mostly around the overall class schedule. The third person was definitely a woman, he decided as he heard her speak again.

Dumbledore and Dippet strode into the room. When their more reticent conversation partner trailed in after them, Harry's breath caught.

It wasn't because she was beautiful, though she certainly was. No, he'd determined that hours before he'd had sex with her. But she'd been a total airhead then, which left two options. Either she was the custodian and didn't need any form of intelligence- not likely; the custodian was never attractive, which was a self-explanatory rule of life- or she'd played him for a fool.

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". . . and remember to return to the castle by September twenty ninth at the latest," Dippet finished. "That will be all. You may go."

Harry got up from his chair, standing there for a moment as his mind spun with the implications of the recent development. What was that woman's deal? Was she some Death Eater he hadn't known about? To be fair, it wasn't like he'd researched much before getting flung into the past.

Maybe it had nothing to do with Death Eaters or Voldemort and she just enjoyed acting like a ditz during the summer? . . . For hours on end? No, that wasn't it. Hmmm . . .

He spun around as he felt a hand tap him on the shoulder. Speak of the devil! He put on a smile, to be polite, when he saw who it was.

"Hello," the woman- Mary- said, "I'm Mary, in case you didn't remember. Mary Riddle. I apologize if I bored you that night at the party. I wasn't exactly at my best." His smile froze.

"Harry Evans," he heard himself say. "But you knew that already, of course. And the party . . . it's fine. I don't generally go to them in order to have stimulating conversation. So no harm done, really."

"Just wanted to clear that up," Mary said, smiling. "Guess I'll see you around, Evans." She gave a small wave, which he returned on auto pilot, before turning around and leaving a moment later.

Harry groaned, putting a hand to his forehead to stave off his burgeoning headache.

"Why me?" he muttered to himself. "What did I do to deserve this?"

As usual, there was no answer.

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A/N: Well, there you go.

That chapter was a bit difficult to write. I had to characterize Dippet, who is practically a nonentity in canon. I really hope I got Dumbledore and Slughorn right. They're established characters, yes, but I have to write them a lot younger, using sparse information from memories in HBP as my base.

Riddle's a professor? What?

Well, I did ask people to consider what might have changed because of Riddle being female. I think one big thing would be Dippet. He's like three hundred and fifty years old, so he grew up in a different time. In a time where women were even less respected, and almost always written off as simple homemakers. I think that, even if he changed with the times, which there's no evidence of, he would still be a bit biased, and possibly, more inclined to write off the majority of Dumbledore's concerns about Riddle. He would dismiss the danger more because she's a woman.

A/N Edit: I'm already getting negative reviews about this, so I feel the need to add a bit more of an explanation on my thoughts and reasoning.

The magical world generally mirrors the muggle world in many capacities- that's a fact as far as I can tell. Purebloods also seem to value their heirs a lot, and I highly suspect that for a long time in the past, pureblood women- at least- were coddled and advised to not do anything in any way dangerous, because of that. There's also the fact that the wiki says that Dippet is traditional. Traditional people in the magical world are generally purebloods and I'm inclined to believe that Dippet, at some point, held the same values I mentioned above. Of course, I could be completely wrong.

Dippet was born in 1637. The first female minister of magic was elected in 1798. Prior to that, there had been no female ministers. From that, I can infer that women gained basic equality around a time close to sixteen decades after Dippet's birth. Far more than enough time for him to soak up the traditions of the time and gain some lingering prejudices.

But I don't have JKR here to answer all of my questions. I don't have all the facts. To even produce my desired setting, some things need to be certain ways. I'm using my inferences as explanations for why I did what I did; I would have had events play out the same way regardless, but if I hadn't used the gender difference as the factor, I certainly would have pulled some even greater BS out of my ass. So be thankful that there's actually a somewhat reasonable explanation behind the changes- before Harry came along, Riddle's gender was the For Want of a Nail event in this dimension and literally the only difference; anything else that's changed is because of that. But the changes, while all things that I believe could logically have happened, are also for me to choose. There is no dimensional calculator that tells me exactly what would have changed with no exceptions. Following the multiverse theory, there is no one set path. If you, even after seeing the evidence that swayed me, don't believe that the route I had the dimension take is plausible, feel free to tell me your concerns.

I doubt I'll change it, seeing as I have no other ideas on how things would have changed enough for Riddle to become a Hogwarts professor when Voldemort didn't in canon. If you have another, logical, reasonable idea, let me know. If I like it, I'm not averse to changing the author's notes here, which are the only things that actually explain the reasoning behind the difference. Note that the author's notes contain my reasoning, but they aren't part of the story itself. You could consider them non-canon, because despite the fact that I'm listing my reasoning and theories here, you're entirely free to attribute the changes to something else. It's not stated anywhere in the fic itself that the change is actually due to what I speculated.

End of Edit

This also explains Dumbledore's frustration with Dippet, who, for once, decided to almost completely ignore Dumbledore's advice. In canon, Dippet is very fond of Riddle. I think that, as a girl, Riddle could exploit that even further, using Dippet's innate prejudices to get what she wants. More of the situation will be explained further along in the story. Of course, this is all relying on speculation and theory, but I'm feeling pretty confident.

Well, as I said, Harry and Riddle are going to be forced into constant close proximity. This is gonna be fun.

If you enjoyed the chapter, and hopefully, the rest of the fiction, don't hesitate to favorite and follow to show your support and keep track of updates, respectively. If you have anything you want to say explicitly, feel free to review, whether it's a compliment, criticism, or something in between.