The house-elf's ears perked up and his large eyes seemed to shine even more brightly at Danielle's words. "Tippy is delighted to serve Clara Ashford for as long as she pleases! She was so kind to Tippy at his master's house."
Danielle smiled widely at him. "Can you bring me to London? Er—Diagon Alley?" she asked hopefully.
The elf nodded eagerly. "Tippy would be pleased to, miss!" He held out his tiny arm, but now Danielle was hesitating. There was one flaw in the plan that she had overlooked in her eagerness to find an escape route.
"Do you know if it's…safe…for pregnant women to Apparate?" she asked slowly, choosing her words carefully. She crossed her fingers, wondering what she would do if he said no.
But Tippy was already nodding eagerly. "It is legal until the woman is three months away from the birth. My mistress Apparated all the time when she was expecting her twins."
Danielle sighed in relief. So she would be fine—until she was six months pregnant, at least. But she couldn't let herself worry about that now. She stepped forward and was about to take the elf's outstretched arm when there was a flurry of movement from above her and she looked up to see Fawkes swooping down onto her shoulder. "What are you still doing here?" Danielle asked him. "I have to leave." But he just stared critically at her, as if he was determined to go with her no matter what.
"Does madam require preparation before she leaves?" Tippy asked, seeming unfazed by the fact that a phoenix was going to come along with Danielle.
She shook her head. "I don't think I'm going to be gone very long." I hope. If Tom's left the cave by now, I've missed my chance. Danielle reached out and grasped Tippy's arm, closing her eyes as they Disapparated.
Although the sensation of Apparition had always been uncomfortable to her, Danielle felt absolutely horrible when they arrived in Diagon Alley. She had to brace herself against the nearby dustbins to stay standing upright, and she took long, deep breaths, willing herself not to be sick. Her head spun and her stomach rolled; she'd never been able to stand Apparating, but this time had to be the worst.
"Is madam all right?" Tippy asked worriedly from behind her. Danielle leaned her forehead against the wall and gasped, "Yes, I'm fine. I'm just very nauseous."
When she was fairly sure that she wasn't going to be sick, she straightened up and forced a smile, hoping her face wasn't as green as she suspected it was. "I didn't know Apparating was that unpleasant if you were pregnant," she said, trying to sound lighthearted.
The house-elf looked worried. "It is not supposed to be, madam! Tippy's mistress never had any trouble with it. Perhaps madam ought to go to St Mungo's."
This time Danielle really was sick all over the dustbins. Luckily there weren't many people around to witness her; a group of young wizards passing by gave her slightly disgusted looks, and an elderly witch hobbled over, seeming concerned.
"Are you all right, dear?" she asked Danielle, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Too much Firewhiskey?"
"I suppose so, yeah," Danielle muttered, rubbing her eyes and hoping her stomach would settle. She waited until the witch had hobbled away before turning back to Tippy, who was tugging on her sleeve.
"Is madam ill?" the house-elf asked, his large eyes growing even wider.
"No," Danielle lied, urging her shaking legs forward. "I'm fine." But she knew perfectly well that she wasn't fine. Perhaps I should go to St Mungo's, she thought darkly. Something was definitely amiss. Of course it was normal to get morning sickness, but she doubted it was normal to have it this badly. Besides, it was still quite early on in the pregnancy, and with the way she was currently feeling she wasn't sure how she would be able to last another seven months. Now that she properly thought about it, though, she'd been strange for quite a while: a twinge of nausea here or a spell of dizziness there, but Danielle had been so preoccupied with work and worry that she hadn't paid attention to her symptoms. It had gone as far back as May, around the time the baby had apparently been conceived, and that definitely wasn't normal. In fact, Danielle knew by all accounts that she wasn't even supposed to know she was pregnant yet, but the clues had been dangling in front of her almost from the day it had happened.
It seemed as if someone was always ill: Tom had dealt with Vetus Periculosus for most of his life; Danielle had gotten the time-traveller's curse; and now she was pregnant with a baby that most likely carried the gene for Vetus Periculosus.
She couldn't catch a break, could she?
After she'd convinced Tippy that she was fine and that she didn't need urgent medical assistance, the house-elf bowed low to her once again before Disapparating away, saying that he must get back to MacDougal Manor before his absence was noticed. Danielle watched him disappear with a sinking feeling; now she would be forced to Apparate by herself to wherever Tom was, and risk becoming ill again. Although, she thought as her stomach clenched painfully again, That might happen anyway.
She managed to stagger out of the alleyway when she was sure that she wouldn't collapse and stepped out into Muggle London, praying that Billy hadn't moved out of his current flat. Danielle felt a pang of guilt for not writing to him since she'd gotten married; she had never properly thanked him for delivering her wand to Alyssa and Dylan when she'd been sent to Azkaban.
The oppressive summer heat weighed in on her from all sides as she strode down the sidewalk towards his flat, deliberately not looking at Vauxhall Orphanage as she passed it. Fawkes had gracefully swooped off her shoulder as soon as she'd left Diagon Alley, ignoring her calls after him. Danielle watched the phoenix soar away over the rooftops, wondering if he would continue to keep an eye on her or if he was going back to the manor.
As she hurried along the sidewalk toward Billy's flat, the concrete seemed to shimmer under her feet and she could feel sweat already pouring down her face. The sky was a dull, coppery grey and the air was thick with humidity. Danielle wiped a hand across her forehead, hoping that the flat would be cooler than outside.
She crossed her fingers as she ducked inside the building and jogged up the several flights of stairs to her great-uncle's flat. Please be home, she thought fervently as she knocked on his door.
It took a moment before Danielle heard the sound of footsteps on the other side, and it swung open to reveal…her mother?
All other thoughts flew out of Danielle's mind as she stared, dumbfounded, at the girl standing in front of her. She had Mrs Bailey's soft blue eyes and mass of curly black hair. "Mum?" Danielle choked, and fell against the doorframe.
The girl, looking worried, turned back into the flat. "William, do you often have intoxicated teenagers showing up at your door?"
"Huh?" Danielle heard Billy reply, and soon he'd appeared next to the girl. "Clara! What are you doing here?" he exclaimed, grabbing her hand and pulling her inside. "Matilda, can you get her a glass of water? She looks like she's about to faint."
"Matilda," breathed Danielle, her heart rate instantaneously slowing. This wasn't her mother, but her grandmother. She'd almost forgotten about Billy's younger sister.
"Sit down," her great-uncle instructed, pushing her onto a chair and kneeling down in front of her. "What happened?"
"Nothing happened," Danielle said, working hard to compose herself as Matilda handed her a cold glass of water. "I'm just a bit…overwhelmed."
"About what?" Billy asked, his brown eyes wide with concern, but Danielle didn't answer, taking a sip of water instead. She hadn't realized how thirsty she was until she started drinking.
"Who is she?" Matilda whispered conspicuously. Billy jumped up, looking ashamed.
"I suppose introductions should have been the first thing I did," he said sheepishly. "Matilda, this is Clara Ashford, a friend from Vauxhall. Clara, this is Matilda, my younger sister. She was at another orphanage in London and I took custody of her earlier this year."
"You don't have custody of me anymore," Matilda shot back, but she sounded amused. "I turned eighteen two weeks ago."
"Whatever you say," Billy said, waving his hand impatiently. "Anyway, she's living here until she gets married, which looks like it'll be very soon. She's seeing a bloke called…Patrick Richardson, I think."
"The first and only time you got his name right," Matilda said wryly.
Billy pretended not to hear her, instead turning back to Danielle. "So how have you been, Clara?"
"Well, I'm Clara Riddle now," she admitted. "Tom and I moved into a manor in Norfolk just after the wedding." Not that you could really call it a wedding.
Billy and Matilda exchanged an awed look. "How did you afford that?" Billy asked.
"Our jobs pay well," she said truthfully, placing the now-empty glass on the table and leaning forward. The water had seemingly soothed her stomach, and now that she was feeling better again her anxiety about Tom was beginning to resurface. "Listen, Billy, d'you mind if I ask you something?"
"Sure," he said, and gave Matilda a knowing look. Luckily, the other girl seemed to take the hint and quietly slipped out of the room. Danielle watched her grandmother leave, remembering the months when she'd lived in Paris as a toddler, and Matilda's terrified screams as the Death Eaters burst into her apartment and killed Patrick right in front of her…
"Clara?" Billy asked, and Danielle was brought back to reality, focusing on his apprehensive expression. "What did you want to ask me?"
"I need to know the location of the cave that Tom brought Amy and Dennis to," Danielle said urgently, aware that she had already wasted far too much time. At Billy's blank stare, she added, "At the seaside that Mrs Cole brought you when you were young. Where was it?"
"Oh, there," Billy answered, but he was frowning oddly at her. "I don't know the exact location—but it was about a two hour trip from the orphanage. Southeast of London, I think."
Danielle's heart sank; it would be impossible to find with such vague directions. "Can't you remember?" she asked. "Please, Billy. Tom's disappeared, and I'm sure he's there."
"How do you know?" he asked automatically, and then quickly shook his head. "Never mind—pretend I didn't ask. I know far too much about you."
"Like the fact that I'm a witch?" Danielle asked, careful to lower her voice.
Billy flinched. "Yes, that," he said. "I thought you were lying until I received that wand. And it does make sense…Riddle's strange behaviour his entire life…"
"It's true," Danielle told him. "All of it. And you might find that the magical gene is buried somewhere in your family too, Billy." She couldn't help smiling wryly when a look of shock crossed her great-uncle's face. "I just—I need to know where that cave is. Are you sure that's all you know? It's southeast of London by the sea?"
Billy stared intently at her, but she could tell he was thinking hard. "Mrs Cole told us the name but I wasn't paying attention," he muttered. "All I know is that the cliffs were white…it was the only funny thing about the whole place."
"You mean the Cliffs of Dover?" Danielle asked, recognizing his description instantly. When his eyebrows shot up and he nodded, she felt a renewed surge of hope. "So that's where he is, then."
"If you don't mind me asking, why would Tom want to go there?" Billy asked, watching as she leapt off the chair and darted back to the front door.
"I have no idea," Danielle said. "But I promise I'll be back, Billy. I'm just in a hurry right now. Tell Matilda that I'll come back and visit her sometime, all right?"
"Sure," he said. "Are you sure you don't want—"
"I'm sure," she answered. Halfway through pulling the door open, she remembered another pressing question and whirled back around to him. "Hang on—what's the date today?"
"The twenty-fourth of July," Billy replied, looking concerned for her sanity.
Danielle's shoulders slumped in relief; she'd only been gone a week. "Thank Merlin," she said without thinking. Billy grimaced and asked "Merlin?" just as she ran out the front door.
As soon as she emerged outside into the humid air, she cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself and slipped into the closest alleyway, closing her eyes and preparing to Disapparate. She was just going to have to steel herself for becoming sick again after she'd arrived.
Danielle turned on the spot and mustered up all her powers of concentration, already feeling the horribly constricting sensation beginning to creep up her spine, when something huge and red dove in front of her, causing her to lose her balance and stumble backward, breaking her concentration. "Fawkes!" she gasped as the bird alighted on her arm. "What are you doing back here?"
The bird let out a piercing cry in response and just as quickly took off again, but now he was hovering in front of her, stretching out his tail feathers. "Huh?" Danielle asked stupidly. "I don't understand…what are you trying to do?" But she had already figured it out: phoenixes could fly great distances and carry extremely heavy loads. Could he be offering to fly her there instead?
Well, it certainly would be slower than Apparating, but it was safer. After a moment of hesitation, Danielle raised her arm and grabbed onto his tail, closing her eyes tightly. With an almighty jerk, Fawkes flew upward and soon they were soaring over London, Danielle hanging on for dear life. This was even more terrifying than her ride on Fleetwing the Hippogriff, and just like that time she had to keep her eyes closed or her dislike of heights would come rushing back again.
For several minutes, there was nothing except for the wind rushing past her ears and the steady beating of Fawkes's wings. How many witches and wizards could say that they'd ever hitched a ride with a phoenix? Danielle half-wanted to open her eyes, just so she could see if the view was less terrifying, but before she could make up her mind she became aware of another sound: a low roar was sounding in her ears and she could taste sea spray on her tongue. Danielle cracked open one eye to see water crashing against the shore of the cliffs; she recognized it instantly from the Horcrux vision.
Fawkes swooped low around the cliffs, scaring away the gulls that wheeled over the water, before gently coming to a rest on a grassy bank. Danielle collapsed onto the ground and stroked his head in thanks, wanting to catch her breath. Although she had to admit that the white cliffs were a sight to see, she failed to comprehend why Mrs Cole thought it had been a good idea to bring a group of orphans here. If anything, it would only give them ideas to throw themselves off the edge if life became too difficult.
When her breathing had slowed to its normal rate, Danielle stumbled to her feet and turned back around to see Fawkes, but the phoenix had completely disappeared. She supposed that she shouldn't be surprised by his abrupt departure, but she would have liked him to at least have showed her the way toward the cave.
Danielle felt for the locket, but it was smooth and cool against her throat—she could already tell she wasn't going to get any additional clues this way. If Tom had left, she had absolutely no other way of figuring out where he was. There was too much at stake in this moment, in the belief that he was still around here.
She walked over to the side of the cliff and dropped to her knees, staring across the rock and searching for an opening. She was sure that she had seen an opening in the stone during the vision…and…there it was! Swinging her legs over the side, Danielle dropped down to another outcropping of rock below, wand at the ready in case she fell. How Tom had managed to lure two ten-year-old Muggles down here was anybody's guess; she was a bit nervous herself, and she knew she would be able to cast a Hover Charm on herself if she slipped.
Danielle never took her eyes away from the cave as she slowly edged toward it, disliking the way the seagulls stared hungrily at her as if she was a particularly large fish. She kept waiting for the Horcrux to flare up with heat, but it was surprisingly calm. Either Tom was no longer around, or he was keeping a very tight hold on his emotions. The more volatile he was, the warmer it became. Danielle had learned that from the very first moment it had been placed around her neck.
When she managed to reach the yawning opening of the cave without major incident, she breathed an enormous sigh of relief, fighting back the last of her nausea and dizziness before she pushed off the rock and lit her wand, holding it out in front of her as she slowly ventured into the darkness.
It was much larger than Amy's memory had suggested, and great stalactites and stalagmites hung from the ceiling and grew from the ground like enormous spikes, some on the ceiling looking precariously close to falling. Water dripped steadily along the walls and she could hear the rustling of tiny animals underfoot. "Tom?" Danielle called, and her voice echoed across the walls until it sounded like there was a hundred of her shouting his name. She could hear the yell retreat further into the cave, and she followed it, her mouth dry with anticipation.
There was no noise aside from her ragged breathing and the squeaks of mice all around her; Danielle raised her wand higher and saw a group of bats sleeping above, their wings tucked around their tiny bodies. She resisted the urge to shudder and bravely pushed on forward, seeing that there was a tunnel up ahead. But her heart sank as she realized it became visibly narrower, the ceiling so low that she would have to crawl.
Danielle sank to her hands and knees, still clutching her wand tightly. The ground was wet, shallow indentations in the dirt creating puddles of water, and she could feel it seeping into her robes as she pulled herself through the tunnel, keeping her eyes fixed on the small pinprick of light ahead, the only hope that there was, literally, light at the end of the tunnel.
When she finally dragged herself free, smacking her head on a stalactite in her rush to get free, Danielle staggered to her feet, letting out a stifled gasp at the sight she was met with.
She was standing in an enormous, dark cavern, her wand casting tiny pinpricks of light that reflected off the limestone walls pressing in on either side. In the middle of the cavern was a lake, its surface calm and glassy. Far above her, hundreds of bats fluttered about, the wandlight disturbing their sleep. But Danielle wasn't paying attention to any of it. Her eyes were fixed on the small island in the middle of the lake, on which a tall, lean figure stood. Even from her distance she could tell his wand was pointed straight at her.
"Tom!" she called out to him. "It's me. It's Clara. I'm not—"
But she didn't get to finish her sentence—thick vines suddenly curled around her wrists and feet, forcing her back into the wall. Each vine was adorned with sharp, needle-like barbs that dug into her skin. Danielle cried out, trying to force them away from her, as the locket flared to life, emitting a bright glow. Tom was suddenly in front of her, his wand twisting into her throat, and Danielle stopped struggling, though it wasn't the harm he could inflict on her that she was worried about. It was the shock of his appearance combined with the sudden vision that struck her at that moment, rendering her speechless.
If she had ever thought he looked terrible during his worst bouts of the curse, well, that was a walk in the park compared to his current state. His skin was so pale that she briefly wondered if he was a ghost, and his dark hair, normally so tidy, was as unruly as hers usually was and stuck up in a hundred different directions, as if he had been raking his fingers through it. His hands were visibly shaking, and the circles under his eyes had bypassed purple and gone straight to black. His eyes were wheeling about, as if he was seeing apparitions invisible to everyone else, and he looked dangerously unhinged. Insane. There was nothing of his careful control anymore; all that was long gone. Danielle had seen Tom many things, but she had never seen him as completely unhinged as he was right then. His was the face of a man who had lost everything.
This realization came at the same time the next vision did, and Danielle was unwillingly pulled into Tom's mind. Although she didn't know it, she began screaming as soon as it slammed into her. Agony. Despair. Rage. Such were the emotions that were currently swirling around Tom's brain, and they had completely overtaken him. There was no more trace of the rational, logical Tom that had once existed. This Tom was completely animalistic and uncontrollable. Never, not even when he had been under the influence of the curse, had he ever been like this.
And Danielle was screaming, screaming because it hurt, and she couldn't stand it, and she wanted to die, and no normal human being, wizard or Muggle alike, would have been able to withstand Tom's current emotions for any length of time; they were absolutely unbearable—
Everything stopped, and she was back in her own mind again, tears streaking down her face. Danielle was shaking uncontrollably, staring up at Tom, and for once his inner agony was reflected in his eyes. It was grief, her pain-addled brain managed to realize, and for the first time she finally realized the depths of his feelings for her. "Don't," she choked, turning her head to the side. "Never do that again—you're going to kill me—"
"Who are you?" Tom snarled, but his voice was shaking, whether from pain or anger Danielle couldn't tell. She cried out again as his wand dug deep into her skin, and she could feel a warm liquid dripping from her hair down her back. The vines restraining her had loosened slightly, and some part of her subconscious deduced that it was Devil's Snare—it wouldn't harm her unless she began struggling.
"I'm Clara," she whispered. "Skender didn't kill me after all. Look through my mind, Tom. I'm not an imposter."
He glared down at her for another second, and she was struck with the urge to throw her arms around him, to murmur in his ear and whisper that everything was all right—even though it wasn't—and kiss him until she couldn't breathe, and not let go until she'd had her fill. But she couldn't even move an inch, and merely kept her eyes on his as she felt him begin to dig through her brain, starting with her waking up in the meadow and seeing William. He sorted through their conversation—thank Merlin he didn't broach the topic of her pregnancy—and through her waking up on the couch, her summoning Tippy and her subsequent conversation with Billy, all the way to her precarious journey to the cave and her horror at the glimpse into his tortured mind.
Danielle barely realized that the vines had shrunk away from her body, leaving her free. Tom was staring at her, and she didn't dare to make a move. She wasn't sure how long they simply stared at each other, her heart hammering against her ribcage, until she finally, without warning, stumbled forward into his arms. She buried her face in his robes and sobbed uncontrollably, crushing him to her. "I love you," she kept whispering. "I love you."
His arm suddenly circled her waist so that now he was the one holding her while his other hand grabbed her chin and pulled it up to face him. "Clara," he whispered, the one syllable simultaneously like an exasperated sigh and a lover's murmur in one, and that was all Danielle needed: tangible, definite proof.
"You love me," she told him. He didn't answer—he didn't need to. They both finally, remarkably, understood each other. And now she knew that she didn't need his words anymore. Tom was so deeply in love with her that he had been permanently altered when he had thought she was dead, and even now he was struggling to compose himself. The Horcrux's glow had faded to a warm but tangible sensation now, and Danielle wrapped her arms around his neck as she pressed her mouth to his, blissfully unaware of anything but Tom.
He pulled her close to him and kissed her fiercely back, but they broke apart far too soon: Danielle tried to kiss him again, but he stopped her by placing a hand to her cheek. "Your brother was right," he said in a low voice, and his eyes softened, losing a tiny bit of that unbearable agony. "Some of your essence is inside that Horcrux. It kept you chained to life."
"How?" she breathed, but she found she could care less about the specifics at the moment.
Tom's hand trailed down her face and throat and skimmed along her collarbone until it brushed against the locket. "When you killed that spy of Grindelwald's in Albania, part of your soul became untethered from the whole. It would have eventually fixed itself back together if it wasn't for the constant presence of my Horcrux. It became like a magnetic pull, drawing it inside until it was fully trapped. It is for that reason, more than Bardhi's weak curse or even my attempts to bring you back, that saved you."
Danielle found she had to struggle to remember the events of 2050; it had seemed like so long ago, part of another lifetime, before she could begin to comprehend his words. "You mean I'm immortal? I created a Horcrux?"
"Not quite. It is much weaker than a regular Horcrux, and it can be destroyed easily. If you were to stop wearing the locket, it would find its way back to your soul and make it whole again. But until then…" he trailed off, an uncharacteristic move for him. He let go of the locket and it jangled back against her throat, the piercing pain dulled to a pleasant warmth.
"So if I'm hit by a Killing Curse again, it won't save me?" Although Danielle was speaking in a low voice, the sound still echoed off the cavern walls.
"No," Tom said firmly. "You are lucky enough as it is." His arms were still around her, and she rested her head on his chest, not wanting to question his sudden possessiveness.
"What happened to Skender?" she whispered. "Do I still need to worry about him?"
Tom tensed at the sound of his name, and his eyes took on a hard edge as he replied, "He is dead."
Danielle shuddered. "Just…tell me you didn't torture him. Please."
But Tom didn't respond, and the silence stretched on until it became almost unbearable. At least Skender's with Georgina now, Danielle thought, but even so, she felt a pang of sympathy for her once-good friend.
"You are bleeding," Tom finally said, and his hand moved to her hair, where her skull still throbbed dully from its contact with the stalactite.
"Yeah, I know," she muttered, and reached up to feel the tender spot, which was caked with dried blood. "But it's nothing. By the way, can you explain what you're doing here, anyway? It's a miracle Billy even managed to remember anything."
"To save you," he answered. "There is ancient magic in this cave. I could sense it from the very second I first stepped foot inside. I would have brought you back, Clara." His jaw was set, his expression so stubborn, that Danielle almost believed it herself. But then she remembered William telling her that even Tom could not do it, and she wondered if he had been correct.
"So why are we still here?" she asked shakily, attempting for levity. "Shouldn't we go back to the manor?"
Tom nodded and released her, but still kept a tight grip on her arm as he raised his wand, pointing it at the entrance to the cavern. There was a loud, shaking rumble, and the ceiling began to cave in, boulders dropping into the space and sealing the cavern shut from the outside world. Danielle ducked, but it had been a controlled explosion: they were standing too far away from the rubble to be injured. Now the cavern was completely pitch-black; she couldn't even see the lake anymore. "Tom?" she asked hesitantly; he still hadn't let go of her arm. "Why did you do that?"
Now there was a hint of his usual exasperation in his voice as he answered, "This way no witch or wizard will be able to find their way inside. After we leave I will place Anti-Apparition wards around the cave—I should like to study it more closely later."
"Er, I'm not so sure Apparating is such a great idea—" Danielle began, but her words were lost as she hurtled through empty space, her entire body feeling as if it was being crushed like paper. When she felt ground under her feet again, she wrenched her arm out of Tom's grasp and fell to her hands and knees, staring blindly at the dirt under them and trying not to be sick again. She was dimly aware they were back at the manor and there was a crack of thunder in the distance—the humidity had finally been broken by a storm— but she wasn't paying attention to it. When Tom hauled her to her feet, she collapsed against him, weak-kneed and shaky. He was bound to find out sooner or later; it was now or never. "There's something else I haven't told you," she stuttered as a bright flash of lightning lit up the grounds.
Tom was silent for only a moment before replying. "What?"
Tell him. Tell him now while he's still relieved you're alive. Danielle couldn't look him in the eyes as she whispered, "I'm…I'm pregnant."
It took me a while to update because I was really stuck writing this chapter-there were so many ways it could have gone and I had a lot of trouble with the last part. Anyway, I'm not so sure about the final product but there it is...
