The Cave
A/N: This fic was written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Round 11. This round, we got to pick our own prompts... no, it wasn't that easy. We were given the task of creating a specific prompt for the team opposing us earlier in the season, with the twist revealed this round that it would be us actually writing for those prompts. I am so, so, so glad I didn't pick the setting 'In a dragon's stomach' now :p Nevertheless, my main prompt was: Setting: Horcrux Cave (Where Harry and Dumbledore find Slytherin's locket) (I chose to focus on years 1979 and 1933, not that it particularly matters haha).
Optional prompts:
(word) dominoes
(word) frost
Word count: 2995 words (according to Gdocs and wordcounter)
A huge thank you to my beta and co-beater, Arianna Waters, for beta'ing for me and helping me cut over a thousand words! This fic is dedicated to both you and Lenore483, who I'm hoping will love the dark theme in this. Thank you to my other amazing beta's as well, especially Sunne, RenRen, Arty and Cara. A million thank yous also to my amazing mod friends at Diagon Alley II for making sure I didn't use something stupid like having Tom levitate rocks to pretend they were bodies and helping with commas and punctuation (which I swear vengeance on).
Alex. He was doing it for Alex.
Dennis' hands shook as he felt along the cold, grey wall, tapping at the various cracks and crevices in the stone. The entrance had to be there; it just had to be. Perhaps if he used a little more strength to force open the stone, it would give way. Tensing his muscles, Dennis curled his fingers around the largest crack in the surface and tugged. His feet slipped in the soft sand, his face growing hot, but even as he pulled with all his might, the stone remained where it was.
Pausing to catch his breath, he thought he could hear a movement behind him. It was something little, like the sound of cloth flapping in the wind, or leaves rustling. He was certain that someone was watching him; he could feel someone's stare boring into his back. Gulping, he slowly turned his head, his heart pounding against his chest.
Dennis' eyes met the wild landscape of the sea-side, devoid of any human but him. A few jagged rocks guarded the stone steps leading up to the cave, allowing seagulls to perch on their rough surfaces. Every now and again, when the black waves crashed against them, the gulls would fly up and cry with the indignity of getting wet, only to land back upon them once more. Stupid birds; why didn't they choose the smoother stones closer to the cave's mouth?
Shaking his head, Dennis turned back to the rock wall. Yes, he was sure this was the same cave. The cave—a menacing structure embedded amongst the cliffs—loomed above him, just like it had when he was eleven. The only thing that was different was that now it had somehow been sealed off with a wall of rock, blocking anyone from entering.
46 years earlier…
Dennis smiled, the cool water lapping at his toes seeming to wash all his problems away. The sun was warm against his cheeks, and as he looked around at his friends playing along the shore, he found himself relaxing. Well, almost.
Cupping his hands over his mouth, he yelled, "Amy, don't play too close to those rocks! Johnnie, stop putting sand down your pants; Mrs Cole will be furious if you ruin another pair of trousers!"
Amy, the pail she held already filled to the brim with colourful rocks and broken sea-shells, ignored him and bent over, picking up another shell. Johnnie, on the other hand, turned to him and poked his tongue out.
"Johnnie!"
The seven-year-old giggled, and despite himself, Dennis chuckled. All in all, he was enjoying the day at the sea-side—even if he, as the oldest child there, still felt responsible for the younger kids. It was a treat for all of them from their teachers for displaying good manners this year. As his eyes scanned the glistening waves before him, Dennis was glad he had been on his best behaviour. The sea-side was much better than he had ever imagined; white birds drifted around the patches of sand looking for food and the smooth, black pebbles were better than the frost-covered grass back at the orphanage.
Smiling, he looked around at the other children, making sure they were still behaving themselves. Amy was still collecting various seashells and objects, and Johnnie was now helping his friend build a rather lopsided sandcastle. A few of the younger children were splashing around in the water, squealing as the waves chased them and effectively ignoring Mrs Cole as she tried to show them something in a rockpool.
Unfortunately, the smile slipped off his face as his eyes roamed towards the jagged rocks to the left. Mrs Cole had told all of them to stay away from that area, lest the water pull them out to sea. As usual, one of the kids seemed to think they were the exception to the rules and was now climbing up the steep rocks, heading for the cave above them. Narrowing his eyes, Dennis could see Tom looking back and forth as he walked, his hand occasionally patting his pocket.
Dennis gulped, looking to his teacher to see if she noticed what he was doing. Mrs Cole was still leaning over the rock pool, pointing to something she had found. He bit his lip, torn between calling for her and running after Tom himself. When he looked back at the boy, he found that Tom had somehow managed to make it to the mouth of the cave, pausing only to pat his pocket again before walking inside.
No, he wouldn't do anything; he wouldn't let Tom ruin his day of fun.
Lifting a fist to the wall, Dennis pounded against the rock. Unfortunately, the wall remained intact, and he was left with a sore hand.
"Damnit!"
If it wasn't so important, he would've taken his now throbbing hand as a sign to leave things be. The police had mocked him long enough, however. The police hadn't been able to enter the cave either, and soon turned to ridiculing his story about a murder as being nothing more than a fanciful tale of a hobo wanting five minutes of fame. Their laughter still rang in his ears, making him more determined than ever to show them he was telling the truth. He would prove he was right; that there had been a murder, and that the body of his friend was still inside. What's more, he would prove that it was all because of—
"Hello, Dennis. It's been a while."
Dennis tried to enjoy himself, watching his friends build sandcastles. Every now and again, however, he would find his eyes slipping back to the mouth of the cave, searching for some sign that Tom was alright.
"Hey! That's mine!"
Turning his head to the noise, Dennis saw Amy stamping her foot. She was looking towards the caves, a scowl on her face. He followed her gaze, relieved to see that Tom had finally re-emerged, safe and sound. The relief was short-lived when he realised that Tom was waving at Amy, a grin on his face. Something silver caught the sun, and when Dennis squinted, he saw that Tom was holding a tin of dominoes.
"Give them back!" Amy squealed, stomping her foot again. Discarding her pail, which promptly toppled to the side and spilt its contents, she ran towards Tom.
Gritting his teeth, Dennis chased after her. Why did that prick have something that didn't belong to him? No, that was a stupid question. Tom was always stealing things around the orphanage, from chess pieces to pegs, wooden yo-yos to bits of twine; anything that took his fancy. Well, Dennis would just have to make him give it back.
His chest heaved up and down as he ran to the stone steps, catching up with Amy. Taking a moment to recuperate, he saw that Amy's wide blue eyes were staring up at the slippery steps leading to the entrance of the cave. Following her gaze, he swallowed thickly. The jagged rocks lining the path on either side looked more menacing from this angle, as did the cave itself, shrouded in darkness. He didn't blame Amy for not wanting to go up them, goosebumps breaking out along his arms.
It was only when Amy tugged on his arm and whispered, "Please, Dennis, that's my toy," that he continued onwards.
Spinning around, Dennis felt his heart leap into his throat. "W-what are you doing here, Tom?" he asked, taking a step closer to the wall.
The man in front of him smiled, causing goosebumps to erupt over Dennis' arms. Tom almost looked like his younger self, with thick, brown hair flopping into his eyes. He was wearing a cape of sorts, and as Dennis stared at him, he watched the man pat his pocket.
"I could ask you the same question. But, alas, it would be a waste of my time, for I know the answer. You've come to find him, I presume?" Tom asked.
The smile never left Tom's face, and as the man took a step towards him, Dennis found the goosebumps spreading over his whole body. He backed further away, distancing himself until he found his back pressed against the cold stone wall. His eyes darted from side to side, even though he already knew that no one was around to help him.
Dennis found himself squeezing his eyes shut when Tom continued to advance, his heart pounding against his ribcage. Would Tom do to him what he had done to Alex?
"Ah yes, I see my first line of defence is working nicely."
When no pain came, Dennis opened his eyes, jumping as he realised Tom was only a few centimetres away. Tom's eyes were travelling over the stone wall, and as Dennis watched him, confused, he saw the man take a dagger from his pocket. He flinched as he watched Tom draw the dagger across his palm, causing a line of crimson to appear across it. The man then placed his palm against the stone, murmuring incoherent words under his breath.
The ground began to tremble, and holding onto the nearest rock for balance, Dennis watched as the rock disappeared into the ground like a sliding door. Without so much as blinking, Tom walked into the revealed opening of the cave, disappearing into the darkness.
Dennis' legs felt like jelly, his heart still pounding. He wanted to run, to find the police, to show them that the cave did exist. But no, he couldn't; how could the police believe him when he himself hardly believed what he had just witnessed?
"Come now; if you wish to search for his body, now is your chance," Tom's voice called out to him.
"Hello? Come on, Tom, we know you're in here."
They had been standing in the cave for a few minutes now, yet Dennis found that his eyes were only just beginning to adjust to the darkness. His skin had broken out in fresh goosebumps from the cold, and if it wasn't for Amy still holding onto his arms, her nails digging into his skin, he would've left. His legs began to tremble as he walked across the stones, every crunch they made sending a few waves of fear up his spine. Large, grey boulders poked out of a small lake in the cave's centre, looking eerily similar to bones.
He finally spotted the boy bent over near a broken, old row boat, and a whimper from Amy soon replaced his fear with anger. He clenched his fists; no, he wouldn't show Tom that he was scared.
"What are you playing at? Come on, give Amy her dominoes back," he said, glaring at Tom's back.
Tom's body shuddered, and soon the cave filled with a hissing noise. Dennis rolled his eyes, knowing perfectly well that it was coming from Tom. Whenever the younger boy didn't get his way, he would start hissing, refusing to speak like a normal human. He usually did it when he refused to listen to the other children telling him that they would be adopted, that they would be loved.
Dennis sighed, moving closer to the boy. His eyes narrowed when he spotted a tattered old sneaker poking out by Tom's left hip, however, and he paused.
"Tom?"
The boy turned around, a mad glint in his eyes. Dennis didn't hold his gaze; his eyes were focused on what Tom's movement had revealed, sure his heart had stopped beating.
There, lying next to Tom, was another boy from the orphanage. Alex's brown eyes were staring, unblinking, into oblivion. His skin was pale and his mouth wide open, as though he had been screaming. Dennis' eyes trailed down his body; he could see red gashes covering his arms and legs, blood dripping from them.
Even if the shock had not overwhelmed his body, Dennis probably wouldn't have been able to shield Amy from the sickening sight.
"I want my dom—" the little blonde broke off as pushed past him, her eyes widening when she turned from a smirking Tom to a lifeless Alex.
The only thing Dennis could manage to do was clamp a hand over her mouth when she began to scream.
"W-wha—what hap-happened?" he asked, eyes still on the body. He couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from it, Alex's glazed over eyes looking very much like his mother's had when she had been in the hospital trying to give him a baby brother.
Tom slowly stood up and shrugged. "He had the dominoes. I wanted them."
Amy, her voice muffled by Dennis' hand, stopped screaming. "They're mine!" she shouted, pulling his hand away.
Smirking, Tom waved the tin at Amy. Dennis felt her let go of his arm, but it wasn't until the hissing started again that he noticed what was happening. Amy stood, frozen, her eyes transfixed on Alex. Dennis' blood ran cold as she began to scream again, watching as a yellow and brown snake slid out beneath the dead boy, tongue flicking out. It seemed to move with Tom's hisses, winding its body across Alex's face. It then continued on its path, slithering down into Alex's open mouth.
It was only then that Amy stopped screaming, as did he. Dennis hadn't even been aware that he was screaming until the snake disappeared, his lips closing as though it was his mouth the snake was entering. His body began to tremble as Tom stood up and faced them.
Pressing a single, pale finger to his lips, the boy said, "Shhhh."
Have you seen Alex? Dennis, tell me where he is," Mrs Cole said, her voice rising in panic.
Dennis wasn't sure how long he had been standing there, or how many times his teacher had asked him that question. He tried to open his mouth to tell her, to explain what he had seen, but images of a snake entering his mouth made him choke. Beside him, with tears running down her face, Amy remained just as quiet.
Mrs Cole frowned and looked away. "What about you, Tom, have you seen him?"
Dennis could see Tom in his peripheral, shaking his head. "No, Miss."
Dennis watched as Tom glided to him from across the lake, a chain from the depths pulling him along in a rowboat he could've sworn had been rotten years ago. Then again, Dennis could've sworn there wasn't as much water in the cave, let alone that there hadn't been a large, stone island in the centre of it. He had watched Tom stare into a basin on the island for a while, holding his hands above it and chanting, before the man had climbed back into the boat.
He should've run while he had the chance; left the cave, called the police, ran away. Alex's body wasn't here, why stay? Dennis had spent the last half hour or so searching for it, sure it would be in the place he had last seen it. Only grey stones remained, however, looking just as much like bones as they had when he saw them years ago.
Gulping, he moved further away from the black lake, eyes now trained on Tom. Once in awhile, something white would break the surface of the lake, drawing his attention. By the time he looked at it, though, it would disappear, and the surface would appear as smooth as before. The boat soon reached the shore and Tom stepped out.
Well, it was now or never; he might as well finish what he came to do.
Trying to control his voice, he said, "Give it up, Tom; I know Alex didn't drown like they said."
Tom's smile appeared back on his face and his eyes danced with amusement. He was twirling a stick in his hand, one Dennis hadn't noticed him holding until now. A low chuckle escaped Tom's lips, sending a chill down his spine.
"I want his body," Dennis said.
Smirking, Tom glanced back at the lake. Dennis refused to follow his gaze, knowing distraction was the oldest trick in the book; still, he couldn't help but catch a glimpse of something white breaking the surface again.
"Alex was inferior; he deserved to die," Tom said.
Swallowing, Dennis took a step back. "You admit that you killed him, then?"
The smirk on Tom's face grew. Stepping forward, he tapped the stick against his chin, as though he was thinking. Then, pointing it at the water, he murmured something unintelligible.
Dennis took this chance to look at the lake's surface, watching as the grey thing he had seen earlier began to bob up and down. He blinked a few times, unsure if it was just a rock—or something worse. He could've sworn the matted brown on top of the rock was hair plastered to a skull, and that the gaunt, brown circles within two holes embedded below it were actually eyes.
"You see, I did not lie when I said this was your chance to find Alex's body. However, there is something I must do first," the man said, turning back to him.
Eyes still trained on the rock, Dennis thought he was going to be sick. His entire body began to shake, his brain not cooperating with him as he tried to tell it that what he was seeing wasn't real. He was simply imagining it; a skeleton was not climbing out of the lake, nor did it resemble his former friend in any way.
Unfortunately, by the time he looked to Tom for confirmation, the man was hissing, the sound reverberating around the cave. Too late, Dennis felt a slimy body twist its way around his legs; too late, he felt fangs pierce his body.
His cry of pain did nothing to drown out Tom's continued hissing. As he lost consciousness, vaguely aware that his body was being dragged towards the cold, dark water, he was certain that he was staring into the unseeing eyes of Alex.
Additional, boring A/N:
Firstly, you may be wondering why Dennis sounds so adult-like as a kid. Basically, I have based him off the mentality of some orphans in other books (eg Jack Dawkins in 'Oliver Twist' (even if he is a little older...bad example, brain is foggy haha)), where the older children tend to act as father/ mother figures to the younger children; i.e. they feel the need to grow up a lot faster than children living in "typical" households with parents around.
This fic (well, present tense) is set before Voldemort takes Kreacher to the cave and hides his locket, sort of like it is part of his setting up process (as we know he had to get the Inferi in somehow). According to the wiki (and possibly the books, it's been so long), the cave was impossible to get to by foot or boat, and would take an extraordinarily good climber to get there. Hence, it is assumed Voldemort magicked the children there. However, I have it in my head that they could get to the cave as kids, and even some adults later on, but over the years the steps leading up to it washed away, or Voldemort simply destroyed them. Hey, cannon doesn't say otherwise ;) Like many of my stories, I try to fill in the gaps where I can (which reading this sentence makes me sound like a pretentious ass, you know what I mean, I like exploring what Rowling mentioned but didn't detail in the books); basically, I wanted to explore what happened to the children to make them so scared. Being in the thirties somehow I don't think a kid drowning would come to the front of Mrs Cole's mind either, especially when her focus was on Tom when Dumbles came to visit the orphanage.
Also, this was originally going to be a fic about how Voldemort created his first Inferi, entitled 'Inferior,' but I found I didn't want to use Tom's POV (somehow I don't think I'd do him justice). I may write it eventually, but for now, I hope you enjoy this one Xx
