Chapter 4: ΕΓΓΥΑ ΠΑΡΑ ΔΑΤΗ
Tap tap tap.
Tom Riddle sat slumped, fast asleep with his mouth agape and his now well calloused right hand hanging lazily off the couch in the second floor flat of Old Red. Though the matron, owner, and proprietor of the pub and its less legal upper floors gave him three nights off a week, this being one of them, Tom still exhausted himself well into the night scouring through the books he procured during Blink's promised trip to Diagon Alley three weeks prior and to his favorite locale therein: Flourish and Blotts. One such book, suggested to him by another patron with a shared interest in magical runes and ancient spellcasting theory, rest face down between his folded legs atop the blanket Blink placed over him after he knocked out around 2am.
Tap Tap Tap
Initially dismayed by the kind words of the shop's manager working behind the counter, telling Tom her daughter, one Tula Wolfe, spent her holidays in the United States, Tom's energy perked up when she told him they currently had a sale on used books and most were no more than a Sickle per. Even less if he showed her interesting magic, her smirk and raised eyebrow the only hint he needed to infer Tula talked about him. Tom gladly took the chance to show off and came away with seven books: four for 4 Knuts apiece and the other three for a Sickle each after making a pair of books waltz around a table, changing color with every measure of a song he hummed slightly out of tune
Tap tap tap.
But now, after an intellectually grueling, four hour session of parsing and comparing runic texts between various entry-level books, Tom lay unawares as something rapped lightly on the window to Blink's second floor flat. Ever few seconds, it tapped three times at the window until finally, after a few minutes of tapping, a groggy Blink slapped at Tom's hanging hand and mumbled, "Merlin's lefty, Tom, jus' le' vuh damned fing in."
Tom groaned and accidentally popped his sternum as he stretched and worked out a kink in his shoulder before stumbling off the couch, stepped over a splayed out Blink, and walked over to open the drapes covering the window. Despite the heavy cloud cover and time of night, a mix of blue, purple, and green light forced him to cover his eyes the moment he opened the drapes. The light came in phases as the window-tapper aggressively flapped its wings and pecked one last time just as Tom swung the window open, gouging the boy's hand between his right forefinger and thumb. He nearly slammed the window shut on the bioluminescent black, blue, green, and purple owl as it flew in and promptly perched on a section of glass tubing next to Blink's workspace.
Blink sat up a little from his mattress on the floor and grumbled with one eye on their feathered guest, "Jus…give i' a cup-oo Knu's. I's prolly vuh…Aaaah…" He yawned and smacked his dried lips before continuing, "I'll pay yuh back in vuh mornin'. I's prolly… one of… vuh…" Tom chuckled as Blink fell back to sleep and he walked over to the floorboard containing the pouch with his little remaining money from the magical world and took out his last two Knuts. However, when he approached with the money outstretched in his palm, the owl pecked at the same spot as before, driving a little deeper and coming away with a bloody beak. Tom cursed and stubbed his toe on the desk in a failed attempt at revenge. Doing his best to move passed the thought of it being worth it to be expelled if it meant turning this owl into a pool ball and chucking it out the window, Tom approached again, this time keeping his twice-injured and bleeding right hand behind his back and reached for the two letters and jangling pouch tied to the owl's legs.
To his surprise, the owl puffed out its feathers once before holding out the leg holding its cargo and Tom quickly unwound the twine tying it all together. Keeping his injured hand close, he saw the two familiar seals, one silver and one purple, of Piper Nobel and Albus Dumbledore, on the two letters. Before he could set down the letters, the owl showed its bioluminescent plumage once more in a show that illuminated the entire room, briefly waking an even less coherent, mumbling Blink. And just as quickly as it came, the owl flapped its wings and flew out the open window and into the lightly raining night. Tom shook the pouch of what seemed to be coins, set it down as he looked at both letters again through blurry, sleepy eyes, wondered for only a moment why they came with the same owl, and intentionally fell face-first back into the enveloping cushions of Blink's couch.
When he woke again around midday, Blink was already part-way through brewing a potion that smelled, unpleasantly, of a mixture of lavender and feet. Tom asked, still half-asleep, "Blink… can… can you at least open the window." Without saying a word, Blink stood up, walked to the window, and threw open the window. A torrent of sleet and leaves pelleted Tom's face right as he stood up and Blink cackled, closing the window again before more damage could be done. Tom laughed a little too, wiping away the rain and debris on one of Blink's shirts before laying back down on the couch and picking up the top letter without looking at who it was from. He snapped the wax seal off and opened it to find a letter from Piper, which he read aloud to the immediate delight of Blink:
Tom and Blink,
Dumbledore's bird just pecked me half to death while it waited for me to write this, so it is going to be short. I do not know how I will receive an answer since none of us have been bright enough to buy an owl, but hopefully the bird will do the same to you and fly back to me before it goes back to Dumbledore. If not, meet me in the courtyard outside Treadway's Tea and Cakes around midday on Friday the 26th.
Blink, remind Tom than unless he wants his fancy wand snapped, no spells are allowed outside Hogwarts. The Trace is no laughing matter.
Tom, please remind Blink that if gets caught flying on his broom over London again, Dippet won't bring him back.
This next part is only for Tom's eyes, apologies Blink.
Tom stopped and looked to Blink, who's face switched quickly from confusion to resignation and finally to apathy as he turned around and waved for Tom to continue on his own:
I would prefer if this stayed between us, Tom. I hope you honor that and that I can trust you with this. I am telling you for the sole reason of you being directly involved in whatever changed Tarquin.
I'm not quite sure how to describe it, but something is wrong with him. This isn't me pining and dejected because we don't talk. His even mother came to our house right after we got back and said he'd left after putting away his trunk. He hasn't been back since and she is worried. I'm worried. What he said that day before the train, and the look in his eyes. I can't get it out of my head.
Blasted owl just pecked my neck right on the scar and I nearly got myself expelled. Good for both of us because if my wand wasn't in my trunk, that owl would have been an excellent footstool for my desk. Meet me at Treadway's and we'll discuss this more.
Best,
Piper Noble
P.S: Dumbledore told me to tell you not to use the charity from Hogwarts on any more books about runes. He has enough in his collection for your "needs", whatever that means.
Tom did a double-take at their signature at the bottom of the letter. It took Tom a moment to remember their circumstances and his brief meeting with their mother at the station. He then smirked at Dumbledore's overt way of telling him he was still being watched. Tom grabbed the pouch and Dumbledore's letter and emptied the pouch onto his lap to find a larger selection of wizard currency than his first, most notably seeing that a higher proportion of it gleamed gold. He counted it out, totaling 20 Galleons, 20 Sickles, and 20 Knuts. He looked back at the letter and then to the calendar above Blink's desk. They still had four days before the meeting date and it also gave him time to parse the second part of their letter.
Where could Tarquin have gone? And as much as he hated their friendship, why wouldn't he have told Piper? Tom thought about it for a few minutes before remembering that Dumbledore sent him a letter as well. He grabbed it from the table behind his head, cut the heavier seal with a letter opener Blink tossed him from his desk, and started Dumbledore's letter, squinting at the sometimes unintelligible.
Dear Tom,
While I admire your want for knowledge on your predicament, and as much respect I have for Professor Kennedy's contributions to the field, I believe it would be far more efficient, and if I may, interesting if we continued our work on a more regular basis. I have enough texts in my personal collection to satisfy both our needs in solving the, forgive the name, riddle of the door in your memories. Further, researching runes and their history will not take you down the path towards resolution.
If you would indulge an old man in a short story, I assure you it holds relevance. In my time as a professor and figure of power amongst fellow wizards, I have come across a great many powerful and learned wizards through both their contributions to magical academia and in person. On one such occasion, I met what we would call a 'shaman', though his magic differs little in effect to ours, living in seclusion atop a peak in the Patagonias.
I will not go into detail on the purpose of my excursion but suffice to say, with the help of locals and translators, we conversed and, in my age, I had largely forgotten its context. But I remembered the glyphs' connections to this shaman and have procured what I believe to be a stable memory. I tell you this in advance of delving in myself, which I shall do later this evening while our less than cooperative Headmaster is away at a function with the Minister of Magic for Belgium.
I have instructed Mx. Nobel to meet you in Diagon Alley prior to this so you may shop for your books and supplies, excluding Study of Ancient Runes of course, before meeting me at Sugarplum's for sweets at 4pm on the 26th. There is much to discuss, more still beyond the scope of our arrangement as well.
I hope this letter finds you well and your time back in the muggle world has been fruitful.
Yours,
Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
P.S. I have provided additional funds on top of your allotment from Hogwarts for you to purchase an owl. It may prove useful should I have more discuss but not have the time to meet in person. If mine were not overwhelmingly loyal, and irritable, I would gladly gift her to you. An excellent coincidence, I met this owl on the very same holiday in which I met the aforementioned shaman.
Tom read through the letter twice more, piecing together some sentences he couldn't comprehend the first time, especially because Albus's cursive blended many letters to the point of unreadability. Over the next three days, Tom prepared questions and ideas to pass on to Albus when they met, all the while building callouses across his hands from working in the kitchens of Old Red by night. Chief among them being how his mind could perceive and recollect them in the Pensieve when his waking eyes could not.
Against the advice of Professor Dumbledore, though largely only because he found an initially surprising interest in the study of runes and ancient magic, Tom continued to comb through and create his own form of dictionary and language with the runes of other cultures. He doubted he was first to notice it, but he found compatible, sometimes even identical line-work in the symbols etched into Tang dynasty stelae compared to glyphs of unknown date found in the then Ethiopian Empire. With further research, he found that there were no trade routes or known instances of contact prior to the 1400s.
In his eyes, this new subject represented a challenge he couldn't just think or will his way through. Context matters in all forms of magical study: precision in potion making is a must and proper annunciation and wandwork are the the difference between a backfire and a work of art. But, he found that as he delved into the more advanced sections of the books he bought, context mattered most with studying runes because of historical context and the rational structure that somehow bound all varieties of magic to a common form.
When it came time for Blink and Tom to leave, both a little begrudging for their work engrossed them to the point of flow state despite working just a meter from each other, Attie gave them both a gruff, tobacco infused kiss on the cheek and told them to not come back without at least 15 pounds of beef from Allens. Without the cart, their trip to the Leaky Cauldron proved much faster and less sweaty, also thanks to the overcast day and excellent breeze passing over the Thames and into their faces as they walked along its perimeter. Tom the Barman emphatically shook both their hands, especially glad to see Blink to whom he gushed about the effects of the potion he gave him weeks prior for his mother in-law. Tom laughed heartily when the barman asked for a round of applause for the boy's heroism and Blink soaked it in like a true showman, enchanting a chair to carry him around the dining hall as he boisterously bowed and sent colorful, harmless fireworks into the ceiling.
Only stopping into a quidditch repair shop for a moment to see if they had a balm he needed but couldn't find, Blink peeked at his pocket watch and noted, "Best head 'veir way ven, Tom. I'll mee' up wiv you and Pipe in a few. Go'a give a look in on Astrid." Tom nodded and watched as he jogged and ducked into the entrance to Knockturn Alley at the same moment he saw a familiar, stout, unnaturally red bearded goblin waddle out of a quill and parchment shop up the street. Tom took out his wand and, keeping closer to the shadows, creeped up on them and wondered if his idea could work. Focusing his mind on the space between the goblin and its projected path, Tom smirked and whispered, "Protego Totallum."
Right on target, Tom watched with glee as a near invisible barrier formed right in front of the goblin as it stepped forward and smashed into it nose first. The goblin screeched and its form shifted a little, its hands and hair becoming more humanoid for a moment, before it turned around with its own wand drawn. Tom jumped from his hiding place behind a small shelf of books outside Flourish and Blotts and laughed, "En garde, foul cretin!"
The goblin smirked and yelled, "A boy thinks he can jest the great Pip-gup! To his end, he walks! Fulgari!"
Tom's laughter immediately changed to a cry of surprise and pain as a rope made of white light wound him tight and electrocuted him into the fetal position. Passersby looked in horror at the apparent goblin cursing and maiming a student. It didn't help that every few seconds as Piper walked towards him, the rope sent another jolt of limb-numbing lightning up his spine and his brain convulsed with aftershocks. He nearly lost consciousness before the goblin dispelled it and uttered in Piper's unmistakable voice, "Told you I'd get you back for those snakes, Tom. How's…"
Their voice cut off too as a male and female in matching, well-tailored, black and blue accented suits non-verbally cast spells that simultaneously disarmed and sent Piper's goblin form flying into a brick wall, pinning them to it by invisible restraints. Piper struggled against it as they tried to revert their form. Tom knocked away the hand of the one helping him up and pointed his own wand at the one snarling and concentrating on the spell pinning Piper. "Drop it now or I blow up the block!" Tom bellowed at the man with close-cropped yet wild black hair, his wand hand stable as he readied his mind to cast the spell.
Piper, through the tightening, unseeable clamp holding them by the throat, screamed, "NO, Tom. You're no match. Just tell…" The invisible bindings appeared for a moment, burning white hot and Piper wailed, their from shifting even against whatever power the bindings had to keep Piper from changing to their normal form.
The one who's hand Tom slapped away, a woman with shoulder-length brunette hair tied into a loose tail, shoved her wand into Tom's cheek and sneered, "Protecting the goblin that DARED to strike you, and with a wand no less? Must have confunded him before we arrived, Martin."
The male called Martin smirked again and cheerfully tightened the cords keeping Piper pinned and said, "Add it to their sheet, then. I'm sure the Wizenagmot will love to hear…"
Tom bellowed, "BOMBARDA," pointing his wand to the ground beneath the man's feet and in a moment that always came before chaos, the man's face shifted, his eyes widened and his lip quivered in recognition and fear. In the same moment, Tom saw a blinding flash of green light that sent him to the ground, a shot of pain hitting him in the head and chest. The cobbled road beneath the man called Martin erupted, sending him and a large chunk of stone and gravel flying diagonally and through the glass window of Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop across the street. Piper fell to the ground, gasping for air and sobbing as they limply held their wrists close to their chest. Everyone in the area scattered and cried for help, though none but the man and the window were harmed.
Recovering from the flash, Tom spun around on his knees but his preparation was too late. The woman recovered before him and, in the fastest succession of spells Tom had yet seen, him and Piper collided hard in mid air and held there as the woman calmly recited, "For crimes unbecoming of a student of Hogwarts, for the destruction of ministry property, for the destruction of private property, for willfully attacking an agent of the ministry, and for knowingly and willfully conspiring with…"
Piper's form reverted as the woman kept her wand high and held them there. Their scar still showing from beneath their white dress shirt, Piper struggled against the spell until recognition flashed across the woman's face and she lowered them to the ground, still keeper her wand trained on them.
"You are Ms. Nobel?" the woman asked hesitantly.
"It's Mx. I don't go by either. You'll get it eventually." Piper replied, half-smirking as they wrung their wrists over the marks left by the burning cords.
The woman shifted her focus to Tom immediately and said, "For willfully atta…"
An unknown man's voice cut through all of their minds, "I don't believe that will be necessary, Dellah. This one is protected by him."
The woman called Dellah's eyes shot to the opening door of Flourish and Blotts and she immediately lowered her wand and stood at attention with both hands clasped behind her back. A man in a simple yet refined black and cobalt vest over a black dress shirt and cobalt tie, his silky platinum blonde hair falling to his shoulders, closed the book in his hands and held it behind his back as he ambled towards them. The man spoke aloud, the barest of smiles on his face, "But trust that this will be the only misstep I allow, Mr. Riddle, protected or not. Dellah, make yourself useful and tidy this place up, if you please."
Dellah nodded curtly and affirmed, "Yes, Lord Malfoy," immediately bringing forth her wand. Using her entire upper body in a full twirl, she non-verbally got to work repairing the square damaged by the exploded debris and the massive crater left by Tom's intentionally strong spell. All the while, casually stepping over stones as they rapidly retook their original positions, the unknown man walked towards Piper and Tom with a faint smile. When he reached them, he held out his hand to Tom but addressed Piper, his eyes piercing into theirs and an attempt at a kind smile, "Perhaps evading your retinue was not the brightest, dear Piper. Hello, Mr. Riddle, I am Lord Tiberius Malfoy, Head of the Auror Office."
Piper stared back at him, their eyes narrowed, and replied, nodding towards Martin crawling out the slowly re-placing shards of the window, "Perhaps the Auror Office needs a better entrance exam, Tibbles."
Though his demeanor and expression didn't change, Tom recognized the fire erupting behind the man's eyes at the slight and a made point to shove his hands back into his pants. "Perhaps you should stay away…"
A flash of pain struck Tom's head as Tiberius Malfoy gripped Tom's hand tight and the man's voice thundered into Tom's mind again, "BE CAREFUL NOT TO STEP OUTSIDE THE SIGHT OF DUMBLEDORE BOY, OR IT SHALL BE YOUR REMAINS DELLAH CLEANS NEXT." Tiberius let go of Tom's hand, took the matching, silky, cobalt handkerchief from his breast pocket to dab the sweat that formed on his brow, and advised aloud, "I will increase the guard on your mother and decrease your privileges if you do not comply, Ms. Nobel. Do remember you are but a guest of the Ministry."
Piper didn't pay attention. Their eyes shot and stuck to the leather strap holding a thin sheath close to Tiberius's chest. Piper poked at it and said jokingly, "The office is upgrading, huh? Courtesy of your treasonous brother, Abraxas, I suppose?"
This broke Tiberius's stoic resolve and the man's hand flinched as if to curse them and Tom into oblivion with just a flick of his sheathed wand. Tom felt the man's familiar menace and gripped his own wand tighter as he stepped forward, a practiced smile on his face, "Is it true you own a share in the Savoy? What a grand place."
Tiberius looked around at the slowly gathering crowd, straightened his vest a couple times between clenched fists, and warned as he turned away to walk towards the joke shop Tom exploded one of his men into, "Your protection, the both of you, is not guaranteed. It would be wise to not forget that. Buy your things and leave before I have a mind to bring you in, Mr. Riddle."
Piper looked to Tom with a mix of pain and excitement, "You're going to get us killed one day, Tom. But that was fantastic! Where'd you learn that barrier spell? Was it…"
Tom interrupted them, turning them to walk with him up the path towards the distant, wooden sign of Treadway's Teas and Cakes, "It's just an amplified Shield Spell, though I wasn't sure if I could send it like that until now. Quite useful…"
Tom smirked at Piper and they returned the favor with an even more devious smile, "And most dubious… Imagine Rodulph's face if you did that in the halls? I'd pay 100 Galleons to see him trapped in an invisible cube."
Tom and Piper exchanged ideas on how to prank and otherwise make the lives of Rodulph and his gang harder as they drank delicious tea at Treadway's. However, the owner of the tea-shop, a mild-mannered man named Sylus Treadway, politely asked them to leave after Piper turned one of the shop's porcelain saucers into a porcupine in a show of their magical growth over the summer holiday. After paying extra for the trouble caused, they made their way to Madame Malkin's so Piper could buy a new set of robes. Just before they stepped into the shop, a bell above the entrance dinging as the door brushed passed, Piper stopped Tom short and asked, "Would it be mad if I wanted one too?"
Tom narrowed his eyes a little and responded, "I haven't the faintest idea what you…"
Piper poked him hard in the shoulder and grunted, "Like Tibbles has. One of those sheaths on his chest. Bloody useful, looks like. And I don't mind the fashion either. Think I can get Myriam to make me one? Ooooh, a black leather one, too? Imagine…"
Piper's smile widened as a stout woman with a kind and rounded face, her hair done-up in a wavy bob that framed her face like a portrait, came out of the shop and began, "Ahem…do you have an appoi…Ah yes…" Her eyes squinted with joy as she jogged forward and hugged Piper around the waist, "My dear, how good it is to see you. I was beginning to think I'd lost you to a b…"
The woman's eyes narrowed at Tom as he stood with his hands lazily in his trouser pockets. She looked him up and down and whispered into Piper's ear just loud enough for Tom to hear, "You didn't say he was of the degenerate sort, Piper. Dear me…"
Piper giggled and hugged the woman back, "This is not him, Myriam, though I thank you for the honest opinion regarding his dress. I'd hoped my dearest, kindest, most giving friend in all the world would…"
Myriam squinted up at Piper's cheeky smile, pursed her lips, and replied, "Any man seen in your company must do better. Come…I'll get his measurements while you try on your new robe. I've taken into account your… proclivities… and made one more malleable. It's just in the back."
Myriam Malkin snatched Tom Riddle by the hand and dragged him into her shop. As she non-verbally made a set of measuring tape and rulers to float and tie him up at odd places, Myriam japed, "I don't know why you don't let them grow, Piper. Any man of worth would grovel at your feet if you…"
Piper, looking at themselves in the mirror next to Tom as they changed back and forth between various genders and sized humanoids, love tapped Myriam in the side and laughed, "You say so but I pity your back Myriam…This is fine work, your finest if I may say so. How did you get it to…"
In their reflection, Myriam Malkin thrust her forefinger up to her lip and joked, "Some secrets are best kept just that…Now…" Myriam quickly shifted gears and magically summoned at least a dozen of pairs of trousers and dress shirts. Each felt like a luxury he'd kill for as, from beyond a privacy barrier, he tried them on and showed them off to the seamstress and Piper. At one point, while wearing a tight fitting but overall comfortable pair of khaki pants, Myriam mimed fanning herself and giggled as she poked Piper in the ribs and jested, "Even underfed, his rump is bigger than yours, dearie!" to which Piper blushed a ruby red and their scar appeared a little near their collarbone.
Tom stopped Myriam Malkin halfway through coaxing him to try on different vest fabrics, setting down a brilliant, emerald green tie he rather liked, "Madame Malkin, as grateful as I am for this, and for your endless ribbing of Piper, I haven't the money to pay for all this. I may purchase a few pairs of trousers, but I can't…"
Myriam conjured an itemized list from nothing and a pair of half-moon reading glasses and cut him off, "All told, with a generous rate for being this fine girl's escort for the day, it comes to 5 galleons and 6 sickles. Can you manage that or would you like to work off the debt?" Her otherwise stoic face and tone turned mischievous as she finished, "I could… use a model if you…"
Piper laughed and shielded Tom, "MYRIAM! He's 14 for Merlin's sake!"
Her smile still mischievous as she vanished her measuring tools with a small pop, Myriam shrugged and japed as she turned to put away a few of the items neither she nor Piper liked on Tom, "In my day, it'd be strange for him not to marry already…A shame…That rump…"
Piper jokingly smacked her in the shoulder again and exclaimed, "MYRIAM!"
The seamstress simply giggled and turned to Piper, "I heard your conversation outside. I don't have many, since the ministry is ordering them special these days, but I think I might have a black one to your liking in the back." While Piper followed Myriam Malkin towards the rear storage of her tiny shop, Tom looked at himself in the mirror and wondered if the clothes were worth the lack of books to add to his growing collection. They already filled half his trunk… but he was tired of mending the old seams of his old trousers that barely fit his growing body. And Myriam Malkin's quality was prime, each of the pieces she showed him fit well. Tom wondered if she would like…
A flash of red in the mirror stole him back to reality and he turned around just in time to see the back of a red-haired boy walking past the window. Tom raced to the window and pressed his face against the glass to confirm his suspicion. But to his horror and immediate disappointment, the red haired boy was not alone. Smiling and walking next to Tarquin Alexander D'auferio the 4th was none other than his mentor. The man who asked him to meet that day not an hour hence. Standing tall and striding down the road towards Gringotts and chatting with his rival was Albus Dumbledore.
Tom felt his fire spark and he quickly put his own trousers back on, shoved his wand into his trousers, and hurried out onto to the cobblestone path to follow them. He nearly lost them in the crowd as a group of older men paid their respects to not just Albus, but to Tarquin as well. From the side as the red-haired boy turned, Tom did not see the mania and wild eyes of the boy he brought back to life, but that of a content, jovial even, school boy graciously speaking with his elders and shaking their hands. Hands Tom should have been shaking with Albus. Tom let his anger fester further as he followed them, once again preparing his mind to combat whatever vision, whatever pain attempted to stop him cold before he could curse that boy back into oblivion.
Careful to stay hidden in the crowded road, Tom followed Albus and Tarquin until they reached Gringotts, where they stopped and Albus did the worst thing of all: he placed a hand on Tarquin's shoulder. The same as he had for Tom all those times he couldn't control his emotions. Tarquin nodded and mouthed words Tom couldn't hear from both distance and background noise. They went inside and Tom knew exactly why. He needed to know too, so he followed.
His anger at its peak, ready to immolate all in its path, Tom stormed into Gringotts. He whirled around, searching for the goblin. Searching for the door. Searching for Tarquin and Albus. When he found it and saw Tarquin turn the handle and enter the maze with Albus in tow, Tarquin paused and turned just as the door closed. All at once, with a smile that sent a deep, frostbiting shiver across the entirety of his nervous system, Tarquin's face disappeared beyond the door, beyond his sight, and beyond his control. And that smile thrust the full memory of his nightmare of the battlefield back into Tom's mind and he fell to his knees on the marble floor of the wizard bank.
A/N:
Some notes for this chapter:
The chapter name is yet another Delphic Maxim, translated from the original greek to roughly: Surety Brings Ruin. You'll see why in future chapters *evil grin*.
The Malfoy family tree is quite barren in the canon, so I created a younger brother to Draco's grandfather, Abraxas, and made him the current head of the Auror Office. His name Tiberius, as with all Malfoy names, derives from figures of Roman history. If you know his story, you may appreciate his role in the one I have crafted for him.
The Malkin in this story is the mother of the Madame Malkin in Rowling's story.
The owl Albus sends to Piper and then on to Tom and Blink is based on the Black Banded Owl, native to the middle countries of South America. I think they are beautiful as is but I wanted to give it little Dumbledore touch, so I also made it bioluminescent.
The two aurors who momentarily captured Piper and Tom before Tom literally blew up a road are named Martin, after a character in one of my favorite podcasts, and Dellah, after another favorite from a different, Pathfinder podcast.