Author's note: Still on a roll. One character appears to take a larger role than I had originally intended and I'll just have to see where that leads. The ending is set, and I am working to connect the current chapter to that and follow the outlines for the other chapters as I go along.
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As he was pacing the room there was a disturbance; someone tried to enter the restroom and found it locked, effectively breaking his train of thought. "Sod off!" he called out angrily. There were plenty of restrooms at Hogwarts. Hopefully it had just been some first year, and not a teacher or a prefect. It seemed the person on the other end caught the message and trotted off to find another restroom, as there was no further disturbance.
He'd never been good at handling stress or unexpected surprises, good or bad. Losing control was not a good sensation, and he felt the need to nip it in the bud before it could affect him more. "Can you think of any conceivable reason, any reason at all, how someone could survive having their name written in the Death Note?"
Morgo sighed, perhaps to cover up his own uncertainty on the issue, then shrugged. "No. Every human whose name is written in the book should die. I've never had any problems with it in the past," Morgo admitted. That was not helpful at all, and Theodore internally groaned. He didn't think the shinigami was lying or omitting details that might be helpful; unless he was trying to make things interesting for his own enjoyment, wake his visit to the mortal realm worth it…
"Though there is something…" Morgo began, turning towards him with a slight grin that made Theodore scowl. "Shinigami have the ability to see the name and lifespan of everyone; I can offer you the eyes of a shinigami against a price," Morgo said, and his smile widened further. "And you just forgot to mention this earlier?" Theodore was stalling for time, running the offer over in his head. The cost was awfully steep and he is certain Tom Riddle is his actual name; he'd done extensive genealogical research on the Dark Lord's ancestry, he'd seen him in person as we was after he was brought back, and he'd seen an old photo of him from his school days… there was no doubt in his mind Tom Riddle was the self-styled Dark Lord. So, although the eyes might come in handy later, he didn't think they would help him at the moment. It wasn't like he could just leave Hogwarts and request an audience with the Dark Lord under some pretence just to see him face to face.
So, if he had gotten the name right, why hadn't he died? Could it have something to do with the fact that he had been brought back from the brink of death? Some unknown state between life and death so that he no longer fully belonged to either? Or was it the ritual itself? Was it perhaps some kind of safeguards had he put up to cling to life? The Dark Lord's fear of death was well-known, and Theodore had no doubt the deranged wizard would have done anything to cling to life.
Perhaps he could have someone else kill him? That cowardly bootlicker Pettigrew perhaps? He could have him assassinate the Dark Lord and then turn the wand on himself afterwards. It couldn't hurt trying. At least it would remove one annoying servant from the Dark Lord's ranks, even if Voldemort survived the assassination attempt. Pettigrew was always around doing his master's bidding, and he needed to pick someone who could get to the Dark Lord.
And out of the Dark Lord's followers, Pettigrew was the one he loathed the most. Not to mention many of them were related to him by blood or marriage, and he wanted to spare those could be saved and see that the Dark Lord was not the right leader the wizarding world needed.
He wished he was back home so he had free access to the family library. The Notts' collection of esoteric black magic artefacts and forbidden tomes might hold the answer to the question. He was awfully restricted at Hogwarts. At home he could talk to Morgo freely, at Hogwarts he had to sneak around unless he wanted everyone to think he was crazy, having passionate conversations with himself. Perhaps he had been reckless to get rid of Dumbledore so quickly… Hopefully the chaos in the wake of his death would cause so much panic and confusion and suspicion that they were too distracted to act. But the Dark Lord and his followers thrived on chaos and terror.
Perhaps if he found some way to let the Dark Lord know that there was someone who had the power to kill anyone they wanted without being anywhere near them… he could strike fear in the Dark Lord, let him know what it was like to live with the threat of a powerful, unknown presence… that would create problems of its own. He did not like the idea of making his presence known – but if only the Dark Lord knew/got the message? He might be too paranoid to trust people after that, begin to doubt his own followers. If he could only make it seem like the Dark Lord managed to find out on his own.
The meeting Narcissa had alluded to in her letter! There would be a gathering where the Dark Lord would be surrounded by his inner circle, and that would be the perfect opportunity to strike. If several of his supposedly die-hard followers acted as a group that had conspired against him, trying to assassinate him, that would work marvellously. Even if, as before, the Dark Lord somehow survived, he'd think there was a secret conspiracy against him. Yes, that would work nicely. Theodore found himself matching Morgo's smile before he unlocked the door and headed for the dungeons.
Back at the dormitory he ignored everyone else and head straight for the dormitory where he'd be in private to plan what lay ahead. The other students were far too noisy and boisterous to be around, and he needed privacy to go over things and to be able to have a moment alone with the shinigami. How many Death Eaters should he involve in the assassination? He would have to pick someone who were too loyal to the Dark Lord personally rather than loyal to the cause. When the Dark Lord had been removed there was only room for like-minded individuals – people who believed that the wizarding world would only survive by rejecting a further contamination of the magical bloodlines. Those fanatical devotees of the Dark Lord would have to be removed from any position of power, lest they undermine the efforts and subvert whatever progress could be made because of their adherence to the Dark Lord's cult of personality.
He retrieved the Death Note from its hiding-place and filled out the details, but left a blank space for the names till the right time; At the strike of midnight , shouting "Death to the impostor! Hail the true Heir of Slytherin!" before killing Tom Marvolo Riddle with the killing curse and committing suicide with the same curse.
He would have to make certain that the names were correct and legible. His handwriting was not the best, and he had to be sure everything was correct and least understandable.
He slumped back in the chair, letting the pen drop to the table. Only the sound of the tall ebony grandfather clock slowly ticking away, and the distant, unintelligible murmur of the others students in the Common Room could be heard. He thought back to his latest game of wizard chess with Malfoy, how carefully he'd tried to position his pieces only to have one piece upset the whole game and throw it all into chaos. One rouge actor could upset the board and ruin all his plan without intending to do so; a domino effect that would force his hand and cause everything to spiral out of control till he was left trying to salvage whatever was left.
Then there was the possibility that the Ministry or some other curious individual might put two and two together and mess things up beyond repair. The chances of them being able to upset the plans were much slimmer, but he had to keep it in the back of his mind in the future, just to be on the safe side.
If someone, somehow, survived having their name written in the Death Note, would they know? Did the Dark Lord even have a heart anymore? Was there something about his new body that made him not-human? If he did know or sense it, he would be out for vengeance, but he might also get paranoid and desperate and more reluctant to strike or do anything before he had figured the situation out. The Dark Lord was incredibly powerful. Was there any hope his own intellect could match that of the Dark Lord? Theodore considered himself to be bright, but his interests were very special – genealogical research, magical history, the black arts… he thought he might hold his own in a duel, but he didn't know anyone who could stand against the Dark Lord, other than Dumbledore, who was now dead. He would have to use all his intellect, all his Slytherin cunning, scheming and contacts. It was a battle for the future of the wizarding world. If he failed they all failed.
Dinner passed in silence, with just a moment of silence for the deceased Headmaster beforehand. Theodore absent-mindedly picked at his food, constantly going over the plans he had made in his head. "You OK, mate?" Draco asked him, concern evident in his voice. "It's the kind of tired that sleep won't fix," he admitted with a wry half-smile. Draco groaned and rolled his eyes at the response, and Theodore smiled too, acknowledging the silliness of the response, and his friend's reaction. It felt good to just joke around. Hopefully no one who were still traumatised or mourning the Headmaster's demise noticed them joking around, trying their best not to chuckle audibly.
They'd all been caught up in something far too serious and oppressive for a long time, and Theodore had learned to appreciate small moments of happiness whenever they came. Pansy had brought along the latest evening edition issue of the Daily Prophet and passed it along. "More details on Weasley's death," Draco noted, skimming through the article. "It says they are looking into the confession of attempt fraud, but do not consider his death suspicious," he finished, handing the paper off. Theodore scoffed at that; even the most dimwitted squib should know better than to trust the Ministry and their official story. "Maybe someone was blackmailing him?" Blaise suggested as she snatched up the paper. "For what? The Weasleys' haven't got anything worth risking that," Draco countered. "Maybe not in money, but they have connections. Their ilk have infected and spread all over the Ministry. Maybe someone wanted a favour and he refused," Blaise theorised. "Sounds more believable than the official story," Theodore agreed.
"I wonder what got him to write that suicide letter… maybe there is some sort of secret message in it?" Pansy wondered aloud, thinking back to the earlier article mentioning the suicide letter and its shameful contents. Theodore looked over at the Gryffindor table, but couldn't see any of the Weasleys there. Hardly surprising. The two other members of the trio were also absent. "What about the death of Shacklebolt and Dumbledore?" Blaise spoke up, just them remembering at their death had been awfully close together. Dumbledore's death that completely overshadowed everything else, to the point that the Minister's death had been pushed back to the small notices at the back of the newspapers and out of most people's consciousness. That caused Draco to almost choke on his dinner, and Pansy patted him on the back. "I'd forgotten all about him! What a week!" Draco finally managed to get out, clearing his throat with some water. Shacklebolt had been a momentary distraction, but Dumbledore had left behind a massive void and presumably thrown the Ministry into chaos. Who knew what kind of effects his death would end up having on the wizarding world?
Theodore found it slightly bemusing that his friends were discussing such macabre things over dinner like it was the most casual thing in the world. Daphne, who sat across from him noticed his half-smile and returned it with one of her own. "There's a brief mention of Shacklebolt too, but it doesn't seem like they are connecting the two deaths," Daphne commented as she returned her attention to the newspaper in front of her. "Yes, it is awfully coincidental," Theodore admitted, feigning disinterest.
As the filed out of the Great Hall Theodore turned to the others and told them to head back without him. "See you guys later, I've got some research I need to wrap up," he said, and motioned towards the grand staircase. "Don't worry, it's not school work," he said with a smile as he noticed the looks. "That's something," Daphne commented coyly.
The only reason for heading to the library was to find a moment of peace and quiet so he could collect his thoughts. He had no reason to think he might find any answers to his questions in the Hogwarts library. Without access to the restricted section it would be a waste of time, and even if he somehow had access to it, it would leave a paper trail of his activities. If someone at Hogwarts fell under suspicion it wouldn't take long before they went through the list of students who had requested access to books on the dark arts. When he had a vastly superior collection on the dark arts at home it would be beyond foolish to look in Hogwart's library.
He found the library absolutely deserted. Only the seemingly ever-present Madam Pince was there, and he nodded at her on his way towards his usual study area. He put down his bookbag and retrieved his commonplace book so he could go over his notes. He flipped through the pages till he found the ahnentafel he had made for the Dark Lord when he first started to take an interest in his ancestry and family. He had looked through The Sacred Twenty-Eight but found no mention of a Riddle family there. The next weeks he had poured over the books in the family library looking for any mention of the Riddle name. It had been a great blow when he found out the truth about the Dark Lord's ancestry, and he had been close to tearing the pages from his book and thrown it into the fire. How had so many pure-blood families allowed themselves to swear loyalty to a half-blood madman who had caused nothing but misery and death and damage to their cause? Fear was the obvious answer. The Dark Lord ruled by putting fear into people. If he was allowed to continue, if he won the war, what would the wizarding world look like?
After he'd gotten himself obliterated he'd lost his body and his spirit had been roaming around aimlessly till he'd gotten Professor Quirrel to take him on. That was no doubt due to the fact that his spell had backfired or whatever it was. Perhaps it was conceivable that he had managed to survive the killing curse because of some mishap, but how was it possible to survive having one's name written in the Death Note? Morgo had said any human whose name was written in the book would die – it was the first rule in the damn book!
It was blatantly obvious to everyone that the Dark Lord would stop at nothing to preserve his life, so perhaps he had found some esoteric method to survive? Theodore would have to admit that no one he knew could match the Dark Lord's dedication and willingness to act. But he was getting nowhere slowly, and his time would be better spent hanging out in the Common Room. Perhaps challenging Draco to a rematch?
He'd lost all sense of time just listening to the weather outside and looking at his notes. He hadn't even noticed that Morgo had fallen asleep; he didn't seem to breathe, so if anyone else had had the ability to see him they would no doubt have thought he was dead. He did look like he was dead – ghastly and skeletal and lanky, with a seemingly permanent rictus-grin on his face.
Theodore jerked when he caught sight of movement at the corner of his eye. Hermione! Once again he'd failed to hear her footsteps on the carpet. He assumed she wanted to seek shelter in the library too. It looked like she had been crying. He recognised the tell-tale signs, and the slightly bloodshot eyes and the way she avoided looking directly at him. Normally she wasn't afraid to hold anyone's gaze or speak her mind – quite the opposite in fact.
She mumbled some excuse, but he waved it off. "It's alright, I must've been too preoccupied to hear you," he admitted, straightening up in his chair, stretching his aching back. He might sight of Morgo sitting up and yawning, soon eyeing the scene with interest. He ignored the silent audience member and offered Hermione to take a seat and join him. "I didn't think anyone else would be here," she said lowly as she sat down in a nearby chair. She put her heavy bookbag on the table, but made no move to retrieve any books from it. Presumably she was mourning the death of her beloved Headmaster and Mr Weasley and was looking for some peace and quiet away from everyone else. He found this side of her to be much more tolerable and pleasant to be around. Her constant attempts at one-upmanship and Besserwisser nature could get really vexing. It was slightly concerning that the much preferred her mellow and quiet mood much more agreeable than the usual fiery facet of her persona.
But as messed up as that was he'd suffered greatly too, as had all his friends and family members. Who had wept for all those who fought for the Dark Lord, believing he would lead them to a better future? Just their remaining family and friends; they'd received nothing but condemnation and punishment from everyone for their dedication to the cause. He'd make sure their sacrifice wouldn't be forgotten.
"Forgive the timing, but perhaps you would consider helping me with something?" he began, looking at her with an honesty and determined look and tone. That seemed to get her attention, and, perhaps subconsciously, she leaned in slightly, like she half-expected some secret or sensitive matter. He looked at her and held her gaze, hoping to convey the truth and determination to her. It was the longest they'd ever looked at each other, and he needed desperately to make her believe him. "He's gone too far. He must be stopped, for good."
As soon as the words left his mouth she blinked twice or thrice, taking it in. Then, almost immediately realisation hit her, and he noticed the subtle change in her eyes and mood. She licked her lips, looked down, before quickly turning her gaze back to him, and seemed to search his eyes intently for something, an indication of honesty or attempt at deception perhaps. "I'm not sure why, but he can't be killed. He must have discovered some way to cling to life no matter what," Theodore continued calmly in a near-whisper, still holding her gaze. Even if it was nothing more than an academic admiration or interest, she seemed less opposed to him than any other student in Slytherin. He'd never been one to publicly insult her, or act in any other way than a polite, well-behaved student. Perhaps she thought him to be similar to her in that regard? That would certainly work in his favour in trying to solicit her help. That and the fact that he was openly asking for her help might work to secure her assistance.
She swallowed. An intake of air. Dropping that on her without warning, yet leaving it open enough that she'd only have an incomplete picture of it was at least bound to get her interest. The knowledge that he, or someone else, not only wanted the Dark Lord dead, but had tried to kill him, but been unable to had to be intriguing.
And for once, it seemed, the Gryffindor know-it-all was tongue-tied. Understandably she seemed uncertain, no doubt suspicious and reserved, but due to her curiosity and Gryffindor spirit, Theodore thought she'd be too intrigued. If the others, in particular Weasley, tried to persuade her against the idea it might actually cause her to double down. The image he had of her was of someone headstrong and independent, and he fully believed she saw aware of her intellectual superiority to the others in Gryffindor. She would likely consider her opinion to be the right one, and any pushback might, hopefully, only solidify her decision to consider looking into the matter.
"I'll think about it," she finally replied, and he nodded and looked away again. The offer was out there, and the Quaffle was in her half of the pitch. Pressing the matter would do no good and could only hurt his chances. "Thank you," he said, looking up at her again briefly, before gathering his things and standing up. With a quick nod he turned and disappeared. He was playing a dangerous game, but it might be worth the risk. If the assassination attempt during the meeting didn't succeed, maybe Hermione and her contacts found a way to explain why the Dark Lord could not be killed. They might actually end up solving the mystery for him and inadvertently aid him in his mission.
It was only when he was out of the library with Morgo following him silently that the doubts set in and they weighed him down as he descended the stairs for the dungeons. Morgo seemed to somehow sense his change of mood, though it might just be his imagination, and the death god kept silent.