Megalomania

What is it about shameless megalomania that draws followers in like a moth to the flame? Might it be the perfectly - or, rather, imperfectly - human desire to maintain individuality while at the same time wanting to be engulfed in some 'greater cause'; or might it be something more? No doubt, a mastery of manipulation is required; a quick glance at a history book could illustrate this. There must be at least a miniscule hint of truth in revolutionary ideals and desires, other than the natural expectation that there will always be those who want change. Specifics are essential, when attempting to rally a devoted flock; being vague is equally important. No two people have identical beliefs, but as a group, with the right sort of leader, they can be morphed into an untouchable mass. This was precisely the sort movement that Tom Marvolo Riddle was hoping for when he began to form his Death Eaters.

There was a precedent in the Dark Lord Grindewald, the most powerful and terrifying wizard of the first half of the twentieth century. He and his Knights of Walpurgis terrorized the Wizarding world while the Muggles were too busy trifling with their Second World War to even notice. It is hardly worth exterminating the impure when they are doing a good job of it themselves, it was only a matter of speeding up the process. Albus Dumbledore had destroyed his God among men, leaving frightened silence in the wake of his death. Most of his supporters held true to their beliefs in secrecy, while outwardly denying that they took any part in the devastation that he caused. Their desires to purge the world of tainted and dirty blood lie dormant for decades until another emerged to begin this purification once more.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has always been a breeding ground for hatred. One of the first lessons students learn, and quickly, is that as much as you might like people from the other Houses, they are your rivals. In the cases of Slytherin and Gryffindor, this was a hatred that had originated so long ago that no one could name one specific cause for it. Bloodlines become an underlying basis, at least for those with the proper egos and superiority complexes. One charming Halfblood boy and his friends took trivial, friendly competition and turned it in to much more. People naturally rallied around the typically tall, dark, and handsome boy known then as Tom Riddle and soaked in his every word. After only a few years at school, Riddle had established himself as one of the most influential students in both the classroom and out. The ease with which he attained knowledge quickly allowed him to rise to the top of the class, but the innocent intelligence that one acquires at school was hardly enough to satisfy his insatiable desire to rise above his name and become immortal.

To grow up without ever experiencing love is unimaginable for most, but Tom knew no other way to live. He had never had to look out for anyone other than himself and didn't particularly care to ever have to. His interests, though veiled with the pretense of "saving" the Wizarding world, were limited to bringing himself to power. Dreams of having complete control of loyal drones that would fulfill his every whim and passing fancy filled his head. A few of his friends thought it wise to express their belief that his plans might be a bit over-ambitious. They were quickly dissuaded during an exchange of generally harmless spells that left them in the Hospital Wing for a week with no recollection of what had landed them there. Lord Voldemort does not deal with dissenters.

Childhood fantasies were the beginning of a much greater movement that began the moment he graduated from school. Having fully forsaken the name of his filthy Muggle father, Tom sought out his namesake to rid himself of the impurities that he abhorred. The pathetic man was living in the manor of his elderly parents in the town of Little Hangleton. They had been sitting down for dinner when Lord Voldemort quite abruptly appeared inside of their house, seemingly out of nowhere. There was none of the usual charm in his smile, just a cold smirk and a manic glint in his narrowed eyes. He laughed as he killed them one by one, only satisfied with the last soft thump of a body hitting the carpeted floor. With the acquiring of each object that he intended to use for his Horcruxes, the metamorphosis drew closer to completion. The only remaining step to the transition from preparation to takeover was to gather followers.

Indoctrination of the young is always the best way to gain support quickly, so returning to Hogwarts for a teaching position seemed logical. Dumbledore saw right through Voldemort's charade immediately and refused him the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor on multiple occasions. Instead, he was forced to enact his stand-by plan. Adults were always harder targets because they all had some sort of input on everything. The only choice he had was to take those predisposed to support him - those who vocalized their beliefs in back rooms of pubs where no one cared to know your name - along with as many clueless teenagers, so consumed by angst and the desire to rebel that they would require no convincing. They would be his Death Eaters; they would lead him to his great triumph over the world.