Notes: Thank you once again! This is a truly major chapter for more than one reason, so I won't keep you from it!
Chapter Fifty-One: Flight and Death
Soon after the Cygnus Black contingent were shown to their quarters, yet another guest was announced.
"Sirius Black is here to speak with the lord of the castle," explained the house-elf to Tom.
Tom was pleased at being designated thus, but he kept the grin off his face, since Hermione and Severus were there. "I wonder what he has to say," he murmured to her.
She stared ahead coolly, keeping her countenance. The thought crossed through her mind that, as a child, she had seen her own parents do this, and she had also seen Lady Merope speak to people with whom she was displeased, never showing anger with a potential ally. The memories pained her. "I hope he has recognized how unnecessary his tantrum was."
"What if he hasn't? What if, instead, he wants to take his wife and stepdaughter home with him?"
Hermione sighed. "Then we have little choice but to let him. You could hold him here, but that would be a terrible idea for all kinds of reasons. Politics, but also, it's wrong to treat allies that way."
Tom did not disagree.
When the tall doors to the great hall were pulled open again, Sirius slunk in in a very doggy way. He was slightly hunched, almost as if in defeat. The sight gave Tom hope that perhaps he was not going to take his family and go home….
"My lord," Sirius bit off, glaring at the hem of Tom's robe.
"Black," Tom acknowledged.
"I… have realized some things," Sirius said. "I learned about your plans to travel to Hogwarts… I trust that it was a successful trip…."
"It was," Tom said. "I also learned from the Longbottoms and Dumbledore that their associations with the Weasleys are alliances of convenience. They did not know of any other options for opposing Malfoy. Of course, there is one now."
"Then you learned more than my father did. Very well. I expect that you mean to attack Lestrange and Malfoy soon… and I want to be a part of that."
Tom nodded. "Castle l'Etrange first. Caractacus Burke, who has been a guest of your relative Lord Cygnus, knows of a secret way into the castle."
Sirius's eyes gleamed in interest. "That's… intriguing," he said. "Well… as I said, I would like to fight with you after all."
"And the rest of the bargain?"
Sirius scowled at the floor. "Lord T—Riddle, that is, I still am not happy about that. I did not want my children, if I had any, to live that way."
Tom and Hermione exchanged a look. Sirius might not be the most cunning of wizards, but it was clear to them that he knew he had the upper hand. Would they really reject an extra wand in a battle? Of course we won't, Hermione thought. And he knows that.
"Sirius," she said, her voice calm and accommodating, "have you ever considered that your future children might want to live that way? They will know that they are Blacks. They will know their uncle and aunt… unless, of course, you mean to keep them from your own brother and favorite cousin. They might develop a lot of ill-will toward you if you deny them options that the rest of the family—and allies of the family—have offered."
"They would respect me as their father," he grunted.
"I'm sure they would, but we are witches and wizards, and we see 'respect' differently to how Muggles do. It does not have to mean 'letting parents dictate our lives' for us. And once children are of age, they can defy their parents." Sirius's eyes gleamed in a spark of anger, and Hermione held her hand up for peace. "Would you keep your children from meeting ours, out of fear that they might like each other? You chose to live the life you wanted. All I ask is that you leave all options available to your children."
Sirius sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "I just don't like it," he finally said. "I think you are ignoring certain possibilities, like sibling rivalry. That would be especially bad if, for instance, two of my children 'liked' your heir. What then, Lady Riddle? Your match worked out, with all due respect, but sometimes they don't."
Hermione, Tom, and Severus exchanged annoyed glances. "No one can foresee all possibilities," Tom said. "You're presenting barriers because you yourself left noble life. That is the real reason. These are excuses."
Sirius opened his mouth to object, but Tom cut him off. "In the case you describe, Sirius, what of our child? He—or she—would have a choice. It's not like two children fighting over who gets the last sweetmeat. What you describe only becomes a problem when the person is wedded to the 'wrong' sibling against their wishes. Otherwise, these things work themselves out—if they even arise at all."
"We should not debate this right now," Hermione said. "You have offered your wand for when we attack Castle l'Etrange. That is what matters right now."
Sirius was relieved. "Yes. You will accept it, then? No conditions immediately?"
Tom glowered, his eyes momentarily flashing red. "All right, Black, no 'conditions'—except that you hold to your oath of fighting for us."
Black nodded. "That, I swear."
All of the family's allies were in the castle, and they could conspire freely. Plans were made and roles were assigned that very evening. At last, the day after Cygnus and Sirius came to Parselhall, a menacing group of witches and wizards—and one basilisk—set out.
The Lestrange castle was not far. Malfoy Manor itself was rather close to the nearly coastal location of Parselhall, and Castle l'Etrange was only a bit to the north of the Malfoy fief. Tom recognized that this proximity meant that they should expect a counterattack, since it would not take long for someone to send an owl.
Tom coaxed the basilisk onto the covered cart once again, making sure to protect his allies from its lethal gaze. He would have most of the group with him. However, a small group would Apparate to Cygnus Black's isolated manor after Tom's contingent set out. This group included Cygnus and Druella themselves, but also Andromeda, Regulus—and Hermione. Tom did not fully trust Caractacus Burke and did not want him in the same place as Hermione with so few people around to protect her, especially since he did not entirely trust Cygnus and Druella alone with Hermione either. He presumed that their daughter and son-in-law would prevent any betrayal. The small group would use the magically connected wardrobes to infiltrate the Lestrange castle, taking down any magical security measures present so that Tom's large group could then storm the place.
Severus was not going at all. "I would go," he said, "if not for the fact that someone will need to hold this castle if… the worst happens. The twins are the last of our lines in that case, Tom. I have to stay here for them. Someone always has to stay behind, and I should be it. I won't be alone. Several of the others will stay with me."
Tom was stricken. "The worst won't happen," he said. "You know, I assume, what I did—Carrow—Slytherin's locket—"
Severus gave Tom a heavy, dark look. "Yes, I know. I trust that you are not allowing Hermione to wear it."
"She says she wears it inside her robes."
Severus scoffed. "Sentimentality is all very well, but she shouldn't wear it at all in battle. Yes, Tom, I know she is not planning to duel anyone, but it could still happen. She should leave it here. And in case she is under attack…."
"She has a key to our bedroom," Tom said, "and it is charmed to bring her back to that room immediately if she says a code word or rubs the key."
"Good. I hope, of course, that this raid goes well. And you are correct that you won't 'actually' die either way. But Tom… harm could come to you anyway. If they wound you severely, you could die of that and be unable to repossess your body."
"I know," he said curtly. "That's why I intend to have victory."
Severus smiled thinly. "If Lestrange knew what was happening, he would 'intend' victory too. Godspeed to you."
Tom and his force had left and were approaching Castle l'Etrange, according to a letter he sent to Parselhall by owl. It was time, then. Hermione linked hands with Andromeda Black as the small group of five people Apparated away to Cygnus Black's manor. She took in her surroundings as they landed. Compared to Parselhall, it was small and comparatively unprotected, at least by conventional means. A single wall surrounded the place. However, Hermione could also detect the prickles of magic wards.
They entered the manor quietly, Cygnus and Druella leading them to the room where the wardrobe was stored. Cygnus drew his wand and flicked it, making the door snap open.
"The other cabinet," Hermione ventured, gazing into the empty wardrobe. "Where do you think Lady Bellatrix kept it?"
"Most likely in her bedchamber," said Cygnus. "She had separate quarters from Lestrange, so even if he is there, we won't have to fight him immediately."
Hermione took a deep breath and stepped into the wardrobe.
Castle l'Etrange.
Alecto Carrow was extremely disgruntled. Her brother was likely dead, after having been captured by the half-blood Riddle. What wizard wouldn't exact revenge on a foe who had tortured him, attempted to murder his wife, and raided his castle? Of course Amycus was dead, Alecto thought bitterly. Lestrange had thrown him away after the Riddles and blood-traitors killed two of the attackers, not making the slightest attempt to rescue him and scornfully dismissing the idea when Alecto proposed it. Amycus had held no more value to Lestrange, the wizard to whom they had sworn fealty, or to Lord Armand Malfoy himself.
Lestrange also had not been permitted by the high lord to return to his own fief again. Whatever Lord Malfoy wanted him for—and Alecto was quite sure she knew—it was a demanding task, apparently, and that meant that Lestrange's fief had to have a regent. According to the English magical aristocracy's inheritance traditions, she, Alecto, should have been next in line for the regency of Castle l'Etrange. Unfortunately, Lestrange did not observe those traditions. He had instead placed Selwyn in charge of the castle, and Selwyn was not even one of Lestrange's own vassals! He is sworn to Malfoy, Alecto seethed. Malfoy obviously gave that order. He has usurped power from everyone now, even though Lestrange does not see it.
Alecto Carrow was beginning to regret ever swearing the oath to Rodolphus Lestrange. It wasn't as if she had wanted to serve a blood-traitor and her half-blood spawn, but surely there had been better options. The oath had cost her brother his life. She had a horrible suspicion, too, that Armand Malfoy ultimately intended to force her into an unwanted marriage with Selwyn. When Amycus had been alive, she had been content to remain single, as she preferred; someday he would marry—she had thought—and continue the line.
Selwyn was currently sitting in the high seat, imagining that he was lord of this castle and not just regent, while Alecto sat in lonely splendor in the sitting room that Lady Bellatrix had used as lady of the castle. A knock sounded at the door.
There aren't even any house-elves here anymore, Alecto thought as she bade the Muggle servant enter. Lestrange had either killed them all or sent them to Malfoy Manor. It was… appropriate… for Muggles to serve wizards, of course, but at the same time, there was something vaguely wrong about their serving in place of house-elves, the traditional attendants and household servants for people with magic.
The cloaked woman swept in with a silver goblet of wine. "My lady," she murmured, presenting it to Alecto.
Alecto took the goblet and drank deeply. The wine seemed to hit her instantly. She felt her thoughts begin to garble. "What is this?" she asked. "How old is this wine?"
"It was freshly opened, my lady," murmured the servant.
Alecto tried to focus. She gazed at the servant, blinking, as she attempted to identify the person. "What's your name, wench?" she said. "I don't think I've ever seen you here before…."
The woman threw her hood back. A halo of bushy brown hair ringed her young face, the features fierce and angry. "You have not," Hermione said coldly.
It's the Mudblood! Alecto thought. She wanted to scream, but the wine… what was in the wine—
"That wine contained truth serum," Hermione said. Alecto panicked for a moment, but it was too late; the potion took full effect. Hermione noticed the exact moment that Alecto's face went slack. She flicked her wand at the door, opening it for Andromeda and Druella Black.
"Who else is here?" Hermione demanded.
"Lord Selwyn," Alecto said dully. "Lord Malfoy placed him here instead of me."
"Anyone else?"
"Lord Lestrange's knights: Yaxley, Runcorn, and Rookwood."
"That's all?"
"All with magic, yes."
Hermione nodded, turning to the Black ladies as they approached. She did not want to watch this.
Lady Druella spoke in a low, furious voice. "You bitch," she snarled. "How dare you sit here, where my daughter and granddaughter should sit? How dare you aid and protect rapists?" She sneered, teeth gleaming in the dim light of the sitting room. "You are so worried about blood-traitors that you have betrayed your own sex!"
Hermione stood by the door, trying her best to ignore the screams and gurgles as Lady Druella cut the other woman's throat.
When Alecto's dying screams faded away, the three women tramped out of the room to take on Selwyn and greet Tom's force, which was soon to be at the castle gates.
Sir Augustus Rookwood, a knight of Rodolphus Lestrange, burst into the great hall, his eyes wide with alarm. "My lord!" he exclaimed to Selwyn.
Selwyn regarded the knight with disdain. "You presume to interrupt me thus? This had better be important."
"It's of the utmost importance," Rookwood assured him. "The castle is under attack!"
Selwyn leapt to his feet, furious. "What? Have you been at the bottle, man?"
"It's true! I heard her ladyship, Lady Alecto, shriek—and saw three cloaked people sneak out of her parlor."
"It could be treasonous servants," he said, drawing his wand. "But we will investigate."
They emerged from the great hall into the main wing of the castle, wands out—but they saw no one in the hall. Selwyn turned to Rookwood, irritated.
"I really did see them," he insisted. "Let's check on her ladyship."
The sitting room that Alecto liked was on the third level of the castle, far from the great hall. The wizards walked down the hallway towards the stairs, passing by a cracked door behind which five people stood silently. With their backs turned, they did not notice as the entire group left and went into the great hall to unbar the doors and take down the wards.
Hermione slipped into the shadows, her charmed key at the ready. It was unpleasant to admit, but Severus and Tom had been right. She was feeling tired. She hoped this would be a quick victory.
A pair of boyish shouts echoed through the castle. Rookwood and Selwyn had found Alecto's body, it appeared. The Blacks exchanged anxious glances with each other and Hermione. Tom's force was not here yet, and it was not at all clear that they could take on Selwyn and three knights without backup. They hid in a side room, collectively hoping that the castle's occupants would look last in the wide-open great hall.
"Should we go after them?" Andromeda whispered.
Cygnus considered before shaking his head. "You cut Lady Carrow's throat, did you not? No curses?"
"Mother did."
"Then with any luck, they will think Muggle servants did it and won't get reinforcements. We should wait for Lord Riddle."
It was a torment to stay in that space, barely larger than a closet. Hermione thought repeatedly of the key. I want to be here for this, she chastised herself. We have done our part. Tom can get in now without any difficulty at all. He just needs to come soon—
The great doors to Castle l'Etrange creaked, wood and metal against stone. That sound could not be disguised. Selwyn, Rookwood, and anyone else they had alerted would hear it. But Hermione's heart leapt. As if reading her thoughts from a distance, Tom had come, with a basilisk and fifteen wizards and witches.
Pops of Apparition shattered the air. Selwyn and Rookwood appeared in the great hall, bewildered and shocked. With them were two other knights.
They gazed in horror as Tom cast away the covering, revealing the basilisk, his face hard and menacing. "That's the—" Rookwood broke off, paling.
Tom hissed in Parseltongue. Although the basilisk's eyes were still covered by a blindfold, it had its sense of smell. Its jaws opened, revealing lethal fangs. Rookwood shouted and ran for his life.
"After him!" Tom shouted to the snake in Parseltongue. "Don't let him get away!" Tom was frightened that Rookwood might manage to get an owl to Lestrange and Malfoy. He was not prepared for that fight yet. If Lestrange himself showed up, then that was one thing, but they had no idea what Malfoy had used for a Horcrux.
But if the basilisk eats him, Tom suddenly realized with delight, it might not matter. A disembodied Malfoy is no threat to anyone. "Return to the great hall," he told the basilisk. It stopped slithering and tried to back out of the hallway as Rookwood continued his terrified flight up the stone stairs.
"We are hopelessly outnumbered!" exclaimed Selwyn to the other knights, Runcorn and Yaxley. "We are fools to stay here!"
"But Augustus—" began Yaxley.
"We can't help him! We must leave. To Malfoy Manor!" With three pops, the wizards vanished.
Numerous oaths, spoken in English, French, and Gaelic, pierced the air. Tom reemerged into the hall, the blindfolded basilisk behind him, and glared furiously at the spot where the three wizards had been. "Secure the castle!" he barked at his allies. "They're going to come back with more, make no mistake about it." His eyes were gleaming scarlet, Hermione noticed. "With any luck, we can finish this today."
"Did you kill that one?" Regulus asked.
Tom shook his head. "He went upstairs. The basilisk has difficulty with that. We should watch that entrance too!" He turned to Hermione, concern in his eyes. "Hermione… you do not need to fight. There are more than enough of us, plus the basilisk. Please don't risk yourself. You have already done your part."
"Tom, they saw the basilisk!" Hermione exclaimed. Her eyes were wide as she grabbed the edges of his robes. "They saw it! They will come back with a rooster. I guarantee it!"
His face turned pale. "You're right," he said. He turned to his allies. "Target it first. If you see one, kill it on sight." He gazed around the great hall, scowling as he realized that there was no room large enough to hide the basilisk. "I'm going to secure it in one of the rooms." He hissed a command at the basilisk and opened the door to the halls, the beast trailing behind him, as the others remained in the great hall to cast wards making it difficult for Malfoy, Lestrange, and others to enter.
Hermione turned to Caractacus Burke. "If you know anything else about secret entrances to this castle, now would be an excellent time to tell us!"
Burke shook his head. "I don't, my lady. I swear I don't."
"You know, we hold the castle," Regulus remarked. "It may not feel like it, since we did not have to fight much at all for it, but we do. We have the advantage when they return. Let us not forget that."
Tom emerged from the hallway quickly, entering the great hall. His sharp gaze flitted across the room. He noted the presence of three balconies that overlooked the place. "It's safe," he said. "I put up a ward that opens only with Parseltongue, so that wretch who fled upstairs cannot sneak in and kill my basilisk. I don't think he is here anymore, anyway. I think he left too." He breathed deeply, calming himself. "All right. Some of us need to stand guard outside, and kill any chickens that they may bring with them. Here is what we'll do when they return…." He gathered his allies close and explained his plan to them.
The group of witches and wizards watching from the ramparts noticed the approach first, as expected. They studied the incoming attackers, counting and identifying them as well as they could from a distance. Fawley, who had been delegated to this task because he was small and thin, Apparated into the great hall and made his report to Tom, who sat in the high seat as a conqueror.
"They're coming!" he said breathlessly. "Malfoy and Lestrange themselves are at the head of the group! I know it's Malfoy; he has an unnatural eye. It's the two of them, Crabbe, Goyle, Selwyn, the three knights we saw today, Lord Parkinson, and"—he glanced guiltily at Lady Druella—"Rosier."
The older woman's lips thinned. "My brother has made his choice."
"Lord Lucius isn't there?"
"We didn't see him."
Tom found that interesting, but he dismissed the thought for now. "Any roosters?"
"It looks as though Rosier is carrying one," Fawley dutifully reported.
"Very well. You know what to do."
Fawley Disapparated at once, returning to his post.
Tom turned to his allies. "Scatter. They will break through the wards, enter the great hall, and then…." He smiled darkly.
As Hermione hurried away with him, she tried to banish the nagging worry. This seemed far too obvious a trap to her. She hoped she was wrong.
The defenders atop the roof shot spells down at the crowd, but they were not striking anyone. The attackers had quickly determined that they were being cursed from above and put up a collective shield charm to make it very difficult for any spell to pierce except the most powerful and lethal—and those took a lot of magical energy out of the caster.
The wards that Tom's people had put on the castle walls were now visible in the light, appearing as blurs with burned edges as they weakened under the onslaught. On the ground, Lestrange hooted in delight as he and Malfoy shot spells together that made the entire ward dissolve before their eyes.
"We have them right where we want them!" Lestrange chortled. "From what Rookwood and the others said, the half-blood brought his entire 'army' with him! We can crush them with one stroke!"
Beside him, Armand Malfoy was less jubilant. His magical eye, a glass globe of solid red that did not even feign resemblance to a human eye, swiveled around in the socket, as if detecting something that ordinary vision could not. As the wizards—and they were all wizards—burst through the doors and rushed into the great hall, he held back.
Hermione and Tom had retreated to the room where he had the basilisk. It was very unsettling to be this close to the monster that had Petrified her, but it was blindfolded, and Tom had it firmly under his command. She told herself that over and over as she waited.
Peering through the cracked door, Hermione watched in disbelief as almost everyone burst into the castle, suspecting nothing. There was Lestrange, lurking just behind Rosier, who held a chicken in hand. Were they really this stupid? Evidently they are, she thought. She glanced around, looking for Malfoy. Where was he?
"But where are they?" said one of the attackers, mirroring Hermione's thoughts. With that, the possibility collectively dawned on them that they had walked into a trap. Several of them exchanged uneasy glances and drew their wands nervously.
Tom gave Hermione a nod. She knew what that meant. Drawing back, she looked determinedly at the floor.
From the balconies two levels above the ground floor, Tom's allies—including those from the rooftops, who had retreated and joined their friends when the wards went down—emerged, drew their wands, and began to send curses into the crowd below. The great doors creaked shut, trapping the invaders—all but Armand Malfoy.
Screams pierced the air, and two of the attackers fell immediately. The ones who remained standing attempted to fight back, but Tom's people had the high ground and could easily slip back to the guard rooms that ended in the balconies on which they stood.
"Fools!" Lestrange exclaimed, furious. "You told me that he had brought a basilisk!"
"I saw it!" whined one of the knights. "I know it was that!"
"Then it's lurking somewhere! Rosier"—he glared at the wizard holding the rooster—"you find it! Get that thing crowing now. Repeatedly."
"Yes, my lord," he blubbered as he attempted to charm the animal to crow.
In the room, Tom swore under his breath and cast a spell to block out sounds—but he needn't have. From one of the balconies, Harry Potter cast a spell that struck the rooster dead.
"Chicken for supper?" he called out gleefully.
Rosier snarled in outrage, dropping the rooster. He sent a curse back at the balcony. Harry and his companions—Sirius, Regulus, and Druella—backed away, avoiding the spell.
A sudden urge took her. "Brother!" Druella called out. "Lay down your wand and we will let you live!"
Rosier took one look at Rodolphus Lestrange, whose face was contorted in fury that his castle was overrun, that his quick-and-easy weapon against the basilisk was gone, and that two of his people had already fallen. He thought about the Carrows, who had been thrown to the wolves—or the snakes and dogs, he thought—by the man they had sworn to serve.
There was no choice. He dropped his wand and raised his hands. Coldly satisfied, Lady Druella cast a spell to petrify her brother. He dropped to the floor.
"Try not to let them kill him," she muttered. "I realize they might do it anyway."
"Surely they have better things to do," Harry remarked.
"Here it comes!" Sirius suddenly exclaimed. "Everyone, look down!"
The doors leading to the main hallway creaked open. From the darkness, two pairs of eyes gleamed, one pair set at the height of a man's eyes, small and flashing red, the other much higher, large, bulbous, and yellow.
Two people were dead before they hit the ground. The rest seemed to realize at once what was happening. Pops of Disapparition rent the air as Lestrange's backups fled.
"Wretched bastard cowards!" he roared, spittle flying from his mouth. He turned to the nearest wizard, Yaxley, and snarled. "Fire-Eye Jinx—now!"
As the basilisk approached, the two wizards kept their eyes fixed upon the ground. They raised their wands and cast the curse.
An unearthly, unnatural reptilian shriek tore through the air as the curses struck the basilisk's eyes. It opened its jaws, flailing about, knocking its master to the ground by accident as its eyes swelled shut. The creature continued to thrash.
Tom's breath was knocked out of him. He gasped, daring to glance up—if he looked into an eye, it wouldn't be a permanent death—and saw what had happened, much to his dismay.
"You can still hear and smell them!" he hissed at the basilisk. "I will fix your eyes—but you must kill them before they kill you first!"
The basilisk was still in pain, but it understood Tom's logic. Tom propped himself up, attempting to ignore the broken rib that he was pretty sure he had suffered in the fall. The basilisk, its eyes sealed shut from the swelling and the pus that the curse caused the eyes to produce, raised its head, its jaws opening wide.
It lunged for Yaxley. He Apparated away to the other side of the great hall with a pop.
"Get Lestrange!" Tom commanded.
The basilisk turned its head and struck at Lestrange. He ducked aside, narrowly missing its fangs, which dripped with lethal venom.
"Damn you!" the wizard bawled. He flicked his wand. To Tom's dismay, a cruelly sharp dagger appeared out of nothing and shot toward the basilisk in a gleam of silver. It lodged in the creature's left nostril, provoking another reptilian shriek. Blood trickled from the wound.
"Kill him!" screamed Tom in Parseltongue.
Lestrange bared his teeth, preparing for another curse, certain that the basilisk's injuries and pain gave him the advantage.
In the next half-second, the basilisk of Slytherin lunged forward, fangs exposed. The wizard attempted to dart aside—but did not make it in time. The fangs of the creature sank deeply into his chest. A piercing, horrified, disbelieving scream rent the air. Tom roared in delight. In the corner, Yaxley gaped in horror, then Disapparated at once.
The basilisk drew away, preparing for another strike.
Lestrange gasped, his wand clattering to the floor, blood pouring from the mortal wounds. He was quickly losing color. He spat blood onto the stone ground and glared at the basilisk in a final defiance as it lunged for him again.
From the safety of the room, Hermione winced and looked away as the basilisk swallowed the dying wizard whole. If anyone deserves it, he did, she thought, but I do not want to see it.
Clutching his throbbing ribs, Tom emerged into the great hall, where four of his enemies lay dead on the floor. He sneered at Rosier, who lay facedown. He would leave that to Lady Druella, but he would not permit the wizard to go free.
The basilisk coiled up as its master approached. Tom waved his wand, summoning the blindfold he had brought. He covered the creature's injured eyes before casting the spells to reverse the damage that the Fire-Eye Jinx had wrought, then put the basilisk into its usual magical sleep.
It's common for animals to sleep after a meal, he thought smugly. Stepping over the bodies, he turned back to the hallway, from which Hermione and his allies were emerging.
"Malfoy is still out there!" exclaimed Fawley.
"What?" Tom said sharply. "How do you know that?"
"He didn't come inside with the others. I saw him—he's still there!"
Tom scowled. "Then he is a fool. Very well. I will take care of this. He won't be happy to learn that his right-hand man is my basilisk's dinner!"
He stormed toward the great doors, casting a spell to cause them to open quickly. They scraped against the stone floor, hinges creaking, and finally banged against the walls loudly. Keeping his wand out, Tom glanced quickly from left to right, looking for the old wizard.
"At last we meet face-to-face again," drawled an old, thin, but deathly cold voice. Tom whipped his head around.
Garbed in his signature white, Armand Malfoy emerged from a side room next to the doors. Tom was now outside the keep while Malfoy stood between him and his allies.
Tom noted this and snorted in contempt. "You are surrounded, old man."
Malfoy peered back at him, the red glass orb that served as an eye swiveling. The other, natural eye gleamed scarlet too. "Then I have the audience I desired," he replied.
Tom did not hesitate. He cast a violent, murderous curse in Malfoy's direction—but the wizard dodged it. It struck a banner hanging inside the castle, setting it aflame. Tom's people rushed to extinguish the fire.
The effort to cast the spell had exhausted Tom's magical reserve. His chest was throbbing now from the broken rib. He bent slightly, grimacing in pain. Malfoy smirked and flicked his wand at Tom.
Hermione shouted in dismay as a jet of green light struck him. His eyes widened in shock, and he toppled to the ground.
"No!" exclaimed several voices from inside the castle, Harry's and Sirius's among them. Hermione closed her eyes. Tom would be all right—more or less—but now every one of their allies would know his secret.
"That was embarrassingly simple," Malfoy chortled to the group, taking an ironic bow. "I am so sorry to spoil your ill-gotten 'victory.'" He smirked at Hermione. "You'd best hurry back to your Muggle cousin now, poor Mudblood widow. You have no place among us."
"No, you have no place among us!" shouted Harry, his voice thick. Hermione was surprised. She had not known he felt anything for Tom at all….
Tom was stirring. Hermione noticed his movement first, and then several of the others gasped, raising their hands to cover their open mouths.
Tom heaved his breath and got to his feet, wobbling, his eyes flashing bright red. He glared at Malfoy. "Is that all you have, usurper?" he choked out, clutching his chest.
Malfoy gaped at Tom with his one natural eye, taking in the truth. He glanced warily at the occupied castle and the many faces, variously jubilant, grimly satisfied, and enraged.
"Flight from death… though it is more elegant in my tongue."
"I don't want to hear anything in your foul tongue!" Tom snarled.
"I must admit, you have genuinely impressed me, half-blood," Malfoy bit out, though it plainly infuriated him to have to speak the words. "You are smarter than I thought. Perhaps you should take on a new title," he mocked. "'Flight from death,' perhaps… though it is more elegant in my tongue."
"I don't want to hear anything in your foul tongue!" Tom snarled. He attempted to catch Malfoy's eye so that he could perform Legilimency. Malfoy understood exactly what he was attempting and made a point of evading Tom's gaze.
"What do you want?" Tom growled.
"You are not going to attempt to kill me?"
"It's pointless. I know what you have done, you filthy accursed robber lord." Hate dripped from his words. "You will have to find another lackey now, though."
Malfoy sneered back. "Lestrange had all but outlived his usefulness, fool that he was. I am better off keeping my own counsel anyway."
"Is that what you think?" Tom said. His chest was throbbing in pain. He really needed to heal it… but if he could keep Malfoy talking for long enough, perhaps he could regenerate his magical power enough to cast something very violent, something that would destroy Malfoy's body….
Malfoy was enjoying the young wizard's suffering. "I have had one truly useful confidant in my life, Riddle."
"Oh?" Tom snarled. "Who? Not your late wife, of course. I know what your kind think of witches. Not Lord Abraxas, and apparently not Lestrange—"
"Salazar Slytherin."
Tom's mouth fell open, but he instantly shut it. His eyes flashed red. "You liar," he roared, though it hurt his lungs to do it. "How dare you!"
"Oh no, it is quite true," said Malfoy, grinning maliciously. "You have heard of how Castle Draconis was stormed eighty years ago? You know that Slytherin designed it, correct?"
Tom's breath hitched in his chest. His eyes widened. "No—"
Malfoy was enjoying this. "Yes," he said repressively. "Slytherin vanished from the British Isles after his fight with the other Founders of Hogwarts. No one from his native land knew where he went… but I do."
"No." Tom seemed to realize what Malfoy was going to say before he said it.
"How do you think I learned of the secret entrance to Gryffindor's castle? Slytherin came to Normandy because we had the proper attitudes about Mudbloods and half-bloods."
"No!" Tom crumpled to the ground, falling on his knees, unable to support his weight.
Inside the castle, everyone gasped. Harry covered his mouth with his hand. Hermione cried out.
"Salazar Slytherin was my one true friend and ally," Malfoy said, his one eye gleaming. "Slytherin urged us to travel to Britain with the Muggle William and told us exactly how to take control of this barbarous population. Think on that as you sit in this castle, half-blood!" He turned, and in a whirl of white robes, Disapparated.
Tom trudged inside the castle, his gaze cast miserably at the ground. His chest was throbbing in pain and his breaths were short. No one knew quite what to say. What had been a joyous, triumphant victory free of any casualties on their side was now dreadfully hollow.
Hermione approached him first. She drew her wand and cast a general healing spell at his chest as she helped him to the Lestrange high seat.
"It doesn't matter," she murmured, too low for anyone else to hear. "It doesn't matter, Tom. It doesn't affect who you are and what we are doing."
He gazed at her, a deep, wretched sorrow etched in his face. "Hermione," he said quietly, "I thought that he was a Seer." He sighed heavily, his breath a jagged shudder. "I thought he put the basilisk into Hogwarts to protect it from Norman invaders. I believed that."
"Tom, it doesn't matter."
"A part of my soul is encased in his last artifact," Tom said, his face twisting.
Hermione did not like this turn of his thoughts one bit. "It's yours," she said sharply. "Don't think of it as his! It belongs to your family. He didn't even bring it with him! He had no value for it in the end. It is yours, and you have made it so in the most profound way possible."
Tom sighed again, rubbing his forehead. He noticed that his friends and allies were still milling around, talking in low voices to one another, uneasy and unsure of what to say. He needed to get control of himself, he realized. He had to act the lord that he was, perhaps especially in times like this.
He cleared his throat. "My friends," he called out in the most authoritative tone he could muster. It was sufficient; every head turned in his direction. Hermione stood beside him, loyal and proud, one hand on his left forearm. He took strength from it, and his voice was stronger when he spoke again. "We have achieved a great victory today. Rodolphus Lestrange is dead, and the enemy is scattered. We hold Castle l'Etrange and have access to any secrets it might hold. It was my intention to learn from him what Malfoy has used to secure his deathlessness—for deathless he is—but unfortunately that was not possible, so we hope that this information can be found within the castle." He took another deep breath, briefly locking his gaze with Hermione's in an intense look. "As for the claims that Malfoy made, they will not discourage us. Whatever may have happened in the past, we are forging a new future."
