Chapter 21: Gifts and Ghosts
Christmas morning broke over Diagon Alley with a flurry of thick snowfall. Kaleidoscopic ice patterns stretched across Marina's frozen windowpanes and she pulled on two pairs of socks to ward off the cold before rounding on the small pile of gifts that sat in at the foot of her bed.
Mrs Weasley had invited Marina to go with them to Romania to visit Charlie but she had opted to stay in London – she hadn't wanted to intrude on their family holiday since they saw Charlie so infrequently. Plus, if she was being honest, Marina was excited to explore Diagon Alley and see how the wizarding world celebrated Christmas. In lieu of her refusal, Mrs Weasley had plied her with as many gifts and treats as possible, evidently distraught at the idea of Marina spending Christmas alone. Marina's room was laden with the fruits of Mrs Weasley's efforts – a tin of fat mince pies sat on the dresser next to a large gingerbread rendition of the Burrow that leaned at an impossible angle with long sugar icicles dangling from its roof. Marina had found room for the plate of treacle tarts on the desk – but she'd had to precariously place the round Christmas cake with its dripped white icing on her spare chair since there was no other place for it.
It felt only right to start with Mrs Weasley's gift first; a large lumpy present wrapped in bright red paper and tied with gold string. Marina carefully undid the knot and pulled off the paper revealing – to her delight – a huge hand-knit jumper of thick green wool with a pale pink 'M' on the front. She replaced her old yellow jumper with it immediately, grinning.
Turning back to the present pile and suddenly feeling very Christmassy, Marina unwrapped an elegant white quill in a gleaming wooden case from McGonagall, a glazed ceramic mug from Remus that looked perfect for hot chocolates, a bottle of Colour-Change Ink from Dumbledore, and a strange golden trinket that she assumed was from Moody since the only note attached with it said 'Merry Christmas – keep an eye open.' Unable to tell what it was, Marina placed it gingerly back in the small leather pouch it had come in and left it undisturbed. If it was from Moody, there was no telling what it could do.
Marina rounded on the last present – the small parcel Riddle had given her sat almost nondescript amongst her new things. She picked it up and turned it over, examining the neatly wrapped brown paper and thin simple twine that held it together. A loud knock at her door broke her attention and she jumped in surprise. Marina set down the present and opened the door to reveal a very festive looking Dumbledore dressed in crimson robes with golden trim.
"Marina!" he beamed. "Thank you so much for your gift…" he extended his foot so that Marina could see the bright purple woollen socks she'd given him peeking out above his shoes. "They are exactly what I wanted," he said, eyes gleaming.
"You're welcome, sir," Marina grinned. "Thought you might like a break from all the books. And – thanks for the ink!"
"My pleasure," Dumbledore smiled. "Now, I apologise for interrupting your Christmas day, however there has been a development…"
Marina was serious at once. "What's happened?"
"Not to worry, my dear," Dumbledore said calmly, holding up a hand. "All is well. I simply mean to say that Tom is meeting Miss Myrtle Warren today – I thought that you would want to be there.
"Oh," she said blandly. "Oh Christmas?"
"Tom doesn't appear to put much distinction on the day," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "He requested that we start as soon as possible."
"Alright," Marina said, looking around her room. "Give me a moment –"
She hastily pulled on her boots and after a moment's thought grabbed Riddle's present before she turned back to Dumbledore and followed him down the stairs and into the already bustling pub. A huge Christmas tree stood against the wall with real fairies floating daintily amongst the branches, but other than that the Leakey Cauldron's décor was scant. Despite this, the atmosphere in the room was alive with cheer, and groups of witches and wizards were already gathered in loud, exuberant conversation.
They made their way directly to the broad fireplace. Marina gave Tom the innkeeper a cheery wave before the green flames engulfed them and they were stepping out into Dumbledore's office. It was empty except for Fawkes who gave a low musical cry at their appearance and shifted on his golden stand.
"So who's coming to this thing, then?" Marina asked, walking up to Fawkes and holding up a hand for him to inspect.
"Alastor should be here with Tom shortly, and Minerva indicated that she would join as well," Dumbledore said, taking a seat at his desk as Fawkes nudged his beak against Marina's hand.
At that moment the fire roared and both Moody and Riddle stepped out in the middle of an intense conversation.
"– if Ekrizdis found Azkaban already infested with Dementors, or if his actions caused them to spawn afterwards," Riddle was saying.
"No way of telling," Moody said simply, giving Dumbledore a nod of greeting which he politely returned. "Not that it matters, now. The place has the highest number of Dementors in the whole hemisphere."
"But if we could tell which came first," Riddle pressed as they approached, "we would know if Dementors could generate outside of human bounds."
"Aye," Moody stopped just beside Marina, "though it doesn't do much for how to get rid of them. Damn things will stick around for as long as there's misery in the air."
Riddle was slowly pacing with his hands clasped loosely behind him as he examined the huge ornate orrery that sat next to the wall of Dumbledore's office. "And not even the Patronus Charm kills them," he said, brow creased in thought.
Moody's blue eye whizzed over to him even as he rounded on Marina, regular eye scanning her. "Why aren't you wearing the Wardore?"
"The –" Marina said, staring at him blankly.
"The Wardore, I gave you a Wardore," Moody growled.
"What's a –"
"They're named after the magical metal from which they are made," Riddle said, looking around at Marina's baffled expression. "Goblins usually use Wardore to make jewellery because it has a natural ability to ward off harmful spells – to a degree," he added.
"Fat lot of good it'll do it you don't put it on," said Moody, scowling. "Can't have you getting cursed again, can we?"
Dumbledore, who had been watching their conversation contently, suddenly spoke. "Wardore are incredibly rare, Alastor" he said curiously, "I did not know you had one."
"I still have three," Moody said gruffly – and for the first time Marina noted the heavy golden ring that sat on his thumb whose strange geometric form much resembled the trinket she'd unwrapped that morning. The hint of a golden chain beneath his collar suggested at the second, and the third was apparently too concealed for her to see.
"Can they ward off any curse?" Marina said in wonder, staring at the ring.
"No," Moody said with a slight bark of a laugh, "just the minor ones. And they won't do much good if someone's throwing a whole lot of curses at once – but it'll do some cushioning at the least."
"I'll put it on when I get home," Marina promised sincerely.
Moody only nodded and leaned on his wooden leg as Dumbledore's office door swung open and McGonagall entered dressed in deep red and green tartan robes and looking exceptionally beleaguered.
"Peeves has been up since the crack of dawn pelting anyone he sees with mistletoe and shrieking obscenities at them," McGonagall said at Marina's quizzical expression. She turned towards Riddle and the others, straightening her tall pointed hat. "Well now, Merry Christmas to you all," she said busily. "Shall we?" she gestured to the door.
Riddle nodded and stepped towards her, glancing slightly at Marina. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"Do you want me to come?" she asked with a small smirk.
Riddle hesitated. "If you like," he said evenly.
"Well, you've twisted my arm," Marina said wryly, giving Fawkes' head one final pat as she turned away to follow McGonagall and Riddle out the door. Marina saw Moody step up towards Dumbledore's desk, looking over his shoulder at them as if waiting for them to leave before he began speaking.
The door swung shut behind her cutting off her view of the two men, and Marina hastened to catch up with her two companions as they briskly walked through the corridors towards the second floor.
"Nice jumper," Riddle said smoothly, giving her a side eye as she fell into place next to him.
"Thanks," she grinned, ignoring his tone. "Mrs Weasley made it for me."
"Yes, I… also received one," he said stiffly.
"Why aren't you wearing it?" she exclaimed.
"It's not my style," he said diplomatically, though he looked ever so slightly embarrassed.
Marina was delighted. The thought of Riddle wearing a Weasley jumper was the best present she'd gotten all day. They rounded a corner when Marina suddenly felt like a bucket of ice water had been tipped over her head. Marina gasped, giving a violent shiver.
"Oh," a serene voice said, "my apologies, I did not see you…"
"For goodness sake," McGonagall said tensely, "must this Christmas revolve around ghosts?"
Marina turned to see the translucent form of a tall woman with ash grey skin and long, flowing black hair. She looked at Marina without seeing, her dark eyes distant and her face proud. The cold snow-filtered sunlight lit one side of her beautiful face while bright warmth from the flaming stone wall sconces danced across the other.
"Helena?" Marina asked tentatively.
The ghost's gaze sharpened on her immediately. "I see that my attempts to keep my former identity private are losing their effectiveness," she said coolly. "But yes, that is I."
"Sorry," said Marina sheepishly. "I didn't mean to –"
But Helena Ravenclaw was no longer paying her any attention. Her beautiful features had drawn taught, almost horrified as she stared at Riddle, and Marina felt like she'd walked through the ghost all over again.
"Oh," she said lamely.
"You…" Helena whispered, distraught.
Riddle glanced at Marina, silently asking for an explanation; she realised with a jolt that he must have approached Helena about Ravenclaw's diadem after he'd made his first Horcrux. The Riddle before them had no memory of ever speaking to her.
Marina stepped in front of the ghost, attempting to draw her attention.
"Er – this is going to sound crazy, but this isn't the same person who asked you about the diadem," Marina said hastily, holding up her hands. "Well – it is," she amended at Helena's disbelieving expression, "but – no wait!"
It was no use. Helena Ravenclaw shook her head with her face still contorted with horror, floated through the stone wall beside them and vanished.
"What is going on?" McGonagall asked sternly.
"Riddle technically bullied the location of the diadem out of her in his sixth or seventh year," Marina said, sighing as she looked at where Helena had vanished.
Riddle's confused expression melted away into an impassable mask. "I see," he said simply.
"Well, let us continue on," McGonagall prompted, waving her hands at them slightly to get them moving again. "There are yet more ghosts in store for us today."
They hastily made their way towards the second floor, occasionally passing a student who gave curious looks at the Muggle-dressed strangers following McGonagall through the castle. Finally, they stopped outside a doorway on the second-floor corridor and Marina could hear the faint sobbing of a young girl from inside. Riddle's face had grown increasingly stony as they'd drawn closer to the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, and now that they could hear Myrtle, his tension was palpable. Marina realised that unlike his previous confrontations, this time he was personally responsible for her death. A series of complicated but decidedly unpleasant emotions twisting in Marina's stomach as Myrtle's sobs echoed down the corridor; the convenient distance between Riddle and Voldemort's actions had been pulled out from under her feet and she was finding it hard to look his way.
McGonagall rounded on them, her face softened slightly. "I will attend the doorway and make sure no one disturbs you," she said. "Should things go astray, you only need to call for me." She placed a hand on Riddle's shoulder, and he gave an almost imperceptible nod, jaw tight.
Unease curling inside her, Marina made towards the door, only stopping when Riddle stepped in front of her.
"No," he said quickly. "I – I would like to do this alone."
Marina stared. "Sorry?"
Riddle's brow creased. "I think I should talk to her alone," he said, "it seems like the right thing to do. After all…" he swallowed hard and trailed off, but his meaning was clear. He had been the one to set the Basilisk on Myrtle, he was responsible for her death. To confront her was going to be even harder for her as it would be for him.
"I appreciate the sentiment, Tom," McGonagall interjected gently, "but Dumbledore will not permit you so close to the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets without someone with you."
Riddle stared at her, looking conflicted. "Alright," he said after a long moment, "then, could you come with me?"
Marina tried to ignore the rush of hurt at his words. Riddle was firmly avoiding her gaze, staring resolutely at McGonagall awaiting her answer.
"Of course," McGonagall said carefully, casting her eyes towards Marina before returning back to Riddle. "If that is what you want."
Riddle only nodded and looked back at the entrance to the bathroom, ignoring Marina's stare.
"If you could watch the door, Marina," McGonagall said quietly, "I think it best that this conversation goes undisturbed."
Marina nodded stiffly and said nothing. Riddle wasn't facing her so she couldn't see his expression, but he suddenly stepped up to the door and pushed through it. McGonagall gave Marina's arm a small squeeze as she passed, and then the door clicked shut and they were gone. Marina didn't understand it. Though it seemed petty in comparison to the task he was about to undertake, Marina couldn't deny that she felt hurt at his decision to take McGonagall instead. Why would he ask her to come with him if he didn't intend for her to join?
'But he didn't ask you to come with him,' she thought suddenly. 'You invited yourself.' Marina sat heavily on the stone bench that was pressed against the corridor wall. She firmly told herself that she was being stupid, that she was by no means the only person who could go with Riddle on these journeys, that it was even a good thing that he was relying on others instead of her – but her sullen mood didn't lift. Myrtle's sobs had gone quiet, and in the silence of the corridor Marina waited.
Over the next hour Marina only saw one student – a young Hufflepuff girl who hurried past her without looking up - and more ghosts she didn't recognise drifted by without stopping. Another hour crept by and still McGonagall and Riddle did not emerge.
As the third hour drew to an end, Marina rolled onto her other side where she was sprawled on the bench, heaving a heavy sigh. Right as she did so, something hard jutted into her leg and she sprung up in pain. Reaching to her pocket, she realised that she'd laid upon Riddle's Christmas present that had been sitting in her pocket all morning – though its brown wrapping paper was decidedly more creased than it had been when he'd given it to her. Looking around at the closed door Marina wondered if it was the right time to open it, but before she had time to decide what to do, the door sprung open and Marina leapt to her feet in anticipation.
Riddle stepped out into the corridor, his face in a deep and conflicted frown. As he saw her, he caught sight of the present in her hands and his eyebrows raised in surprise seemingly impulsively. "Why on earth haven't you opened that yet?" he asked coolly.
"Never mind that," Marina shoved the present back into her pocket. "What happened? Are you alright?"
Riddle's face fell again. "Yes," he said in a clipped voice. "Fine."
There was a pause.
"Is that it?" Marina prompted, agitated.
"I am under no obligation to disclose every detail to you, Marina," he snapped as McGonagall emerged from the bathroom.
"I didn't say you were," Marina frowned, taken aback at his response. "I was only –"
"You aren't the sole arbitrator of significant events in my life," he continued callously, "I don't expect to have to ask permission to keep things private –"
"Alright," Marina held up her hands, stepping back. The hurt in her chest was irrefutable now. "Alright, I'm sorry."
"Tom," McGonagall said quietly. "I'm sure Marina didn't mean –"
But Riddle just spun on his heel and stalked off down the corridor.
"Don't take it to heart, Marina," McGonagall said, her face sombre. "He's just had a difficult conversation."
"Right," Marina said dispassionately as they started following Riddle down the hall. "Of course."
By the time they arrived back in Dumbledore's office, Marina wasn't feeling any better. The initial hurt had been joined with a horrible feeling of guilt and a pressing concern that wasn't alleviated by Dumbledore's cool assessment of Riddle the moment he re-entered the room.
"How did you fair?" Dumbledore asked evenly, looking between Riddle's stormy expression and Marina's dismayed one.
"Fine," Riddle repeated stiffly. He said nothing more.
Dumbledore's eyes raked over him intently. "Would you like to try –" he gestured to the diary on his desk.
Riddle visibly clenched his teeth, but he strode forward and reached towards the thin faded book without hesitation. His fingers closed around the diary and he lifted it with an impassive expression, barely reacting before he allowed it to fall back to Dumbledore's desk and turning towards Moody. "When can we leave?" he asked abruptly.
Moody looked at Dumbledore who nodded gently. "Now," he said, standing and groaning slightly as his wooden leg took his weight.
Riddle gave a curt nod and was by the fireplace in a second. A moment later, Moody joined him and they were gone without another word.
"Well," McGonagall said tiredly. "I suppose I should explain."
"I'm going home," Marina said immediately. Both McGonagall and Dumbledore looked at her in surprise. "Riddle didn't want me to know," she said dully. "It's not right if I just hear it from you anyway."
"If you're sure," McGonagall said slowly, looking concerned.
"Just – is he alright?" Marina couldn't resist asking.
McGonagall paused. "He will be," she said eventually. "But it was… a challenging experience."
Marina nodded and made her way to the fireplace. "Let me know when the next meeting will be," she said to Dumbledore. "We should go for the next Horcrux soon, I suppose."
"Indeed," he said gently. "Merry Christmas to you, Marina."
"Merry Christmas," she said with a weak attempt at a smile. She threw down the Floo powder and stepped into the bustling Leakey Cauldron. She beelined for the stairs and racing up them two at a time, pushing her straining muscles to keep the pace all the way to the third floor. She burst into her room and wrenched off her boots, collapsing backwards onto her bed with an outburst of breath and closing her eyes.
Riddle was right – she had no right to know everything - but she'd thought that they were past that. She'd thought that they were friends, that he'd want her to know. The horrible knowledge that she was being incredibly selfish in overlooking what he'd just been through hung heavy over her heart, but she couldn't help the hurt. Marina pulled his present out of her pocket and stared at it. Somehow it felt wrong to open it now. She pushed herself upright and gently placed it on her bedside table before standing. She needed a distraction.
Marina pulled on her coat, found the warmest hat that Mrs Weasley had knitted for her, tugged on a pair of gloves, and retrieved her boots from where she'd kicked them. Remembering her promise to Moody she extracted the strange golden geometric charm from its leather pouch and placed its chain around her neck, letting it fall under her shirt. Set, Marina turned towards her door. It was as good a time as any for her Christmas exploration of Diagon Alley.
Hey! I accidentally posted the unedited version first, so sorry if you read that version! All fixed now. Hope you are all doing well ^_^ Thanks for your reviews, they mean the world :)