Sorry for such a long wait. I've been quite busy with my life. I'm sorry for any typos since English is not my first language. I'm sure the story is quite confusing, but I promise that everything will soon make sense as the story unfolds. Please feel free to ask any questions and I will be happy to answer.
enjoy!
also, I would love if any betas out there would message me if they would like to work on this story and The Halfing with me. I could surely use the help and this would deftly make updating chapters easier and more frequent.
The tiny witch has forgotten how much time has passed since her choice to take their invented potion. She found that her subconscious would flitter to her scattered memories of her past lives. It was the only solace she found, no matter how horrific they ended. It felt as if her entire existence was stuck in a hollowed cocoon of her own damned creation. Her silver-haired companion visited the young women quite frequently. Almost as if he knew that she was conscious in her frigid prison.
Hermione hated him as much as she was grateful for his company. The gorgeous yet somber man would read to her. Both muggle and magical literature. He would converse with her, asking her questions about life, he was quite fascinated with living, the experiences, the pain, the loss. His most common question was always if she regretted this prison over Death's sweet embrace. Though he could not stay for long, he did have a very important job to uphold after all.
Hermione hated those times, not only did she find it disgusting that she relied so much on his company, but when she was all alone that's when the dreams...her past lives would come crashing upon her conscience, like fiery waves of torment and grief. She missed Edmund and Benjamin so much! She knew that if either one of them were to be the last standing they would have taken the potion and done the very same. Edmund would have most likely have tested the potion one more time before submitting to this hell. But all the same, he would have sacrificed his life to bring Hermione and Benjamin back...She feared if he would now. Both of them, Hermione was almost certain they would hate each other. It was like this ever since their first death...Benjamin has never forgiven Edmund for that. She was certain it has had to be about one hundred years since their deaths. How much longer would it take before they would be of the right magic to find her?
That's one thing the young silver-haired man never mentioned, Where were Edmund and Benjamin? The young witch focused her will on reaching the two wizards. Wherever they may be in their tedious existence.
I would vow to give up my very magic to take your place, I would transcend time and stare in Death's eyes a hundred times if only to hold you in my arms once more Hermione." The pale male whispered to the ragged woman. Her usually perfectly coiffed hair was arranged in an angry halo of knotted curls. Her usual tan complexion was a tinted blue that could only mean the arrival of a newly acquainted friend. She smiled through the apparent pain.
Do you see him, Thomus? Right over your shoulder...Ah, I see? He says you cannot see him since you're not near ...listen to my wretched love...hide them, we must find the next life-", The tiny witch stopped mid-sentence as if to take a gasp of air. Though that breath never came, her eyes dimmed to a somber finality and the dark wizard exploded with a miasma of dark tendrils. The frigid forest silenced at the onslaught of powerful magick that rushed through the woodland clearing.
The gorgeous man stared at his love, the only living being that ever helped his graces. He stares next at the slumped body of an unruly dark-haired man of about twenty, his wand arm was slung over his chest in a twisted grotesque manner. The dark curse Thomus threw his way made sure of painful demise. The dark-haired man's glasses were cracked in a mocking manner, familiar to the jagged scar that rested neatly above his now glass-like green orbs.
The pale man looked around the silent clearing before levitating his two fallen comrades.
"You may think that you have won, Or that I will submit to your will in this lifetime or the next. But I'm afraid you are severely misinformed…You see, I have a lifetime to figure out a way to win. You will not have her. She's mine forever."
Tom Riddle awoke with a start in his private dormitory. His entire body was covered in a cold sweat and his breath was erratic. The pale headboy laid still as he recalled forth his nightmare. Who was his curly-haired woman that haunted his sleep? She certainly didn't go to Hogwarts and so far his informants have not found a living soul that resembled the petite witch in his dreams.
There were many dreams about her, the most recurring one always started with the two of them just existing, reading by a lake or laying in bed with their legs tangled and her wild hair static from passionate lovemaking. They would always grow dark however, she would fade from his arms, and no matter what he did to try to save her she would disappear. Her face was etched with sadness, yet acceptance as she faded to nothingness.
Riddle vowed to find this woman, it's been four years of these dreams...nightmares.
Tom Riddle vowed to find this woman and destroy her. For no one should ever hold such sway over an up-and-coming dark lord
Later that evening.
Riddle's dreams were all but a distant memory as he anticipated his next discovery. If he was correct in his research then Ravenclaw's secret library was somewhere on the seventh floor and he would be the one to discover its secrets.
The head boy paced the west corridor with precision before stopping near a heavily worn tapestry of what seemed to be medieval art. He listened to the silence around him, a predator in his calculations. He stared at the moth-eaten art, it was about six feet tall and nearly as wide as his six-foot wingspan. Most of it was too worn away to depict but it seemed to be of three people sitting at a flickering fire, majority of their faces were worn away but a few wisps of curls would flitter across to the part that was still slightly more recognizable. This is what ultimately caught Riddle's eye, these riotous curls were so familiar... A fourth person stood above them covered in a black shroud. Its pale hand was outstretched towards the other three in temptation. Lost in these thoughts he continued observing the ancient tapestry as he rotated an angular obsidian stone blanketed in a dark silver band around his right index finger. Suddenly the pale wizard flings his wand behind him with deadly skill. Just as quickly, a dark-haired man shields the stunning hex before throwing off his cloak of invisibility.
" What do I owe this unexpected intrusion Potter? I'm sure you should be getting rest for tomorrow's Quidditch Game. Or have you received too many concussions from bludgers to see your folly?", Tom Riddle snarled as he circled his school nemesis.
Harry Potter gave a lopsided chuckle while maintaining a skilled defense position. "We both know I don't need half a brain to defeat Malfoy and your sycophants Riddle. I'm more curious about your nighttime activities. You should tell your followers to be more careful about the information they discuss, especially in quiet corridors. What's on the seventh floor that's so important to their Dark Lord?", Potter finished the last part with mockery that only irritated the dark wizard further.
"I haven't the time to deal with you Potter. I'm simply following through with my duties as head boy and making sure that no student is out past curfew. It seems that I may have found Hogwarts Golden Boy breaking such rules. My..my what shall we do about this? I do believe that being banned from tomorrow's game should suffice", Riddle says darkly, taking in the idiot's obvious anger. Potter holds his wand as he walks closer to the taller wizard. Tom holds his ground while also keeping his wand center to his chest.
" I know you're the one who killed Myrtle Warren. Don't think for one bit that I'm going to let Ginny's memory be tainted." Potter is seething with calm anger as he clenches his fist. Riddle breaks his eye contact from Harry's eyes to see his loosely contained ire in subtle glee. He did love to torment the Gryffindor fool. Tom's lip curled into a nasty smile as he says with a voice as sweet as honey.
"I'm sure we could just ask her ourselves, Potter? Rumors are that Ginny's ghost roams the second flo-Umph!"
Potter's infamous temper takes reign at the disrespect of Ginny Weasly. The unruly wizard tackles the Slytherin heir and they collide into the tapestry behind them.
However, they do not smack into the stone wall, as anticipated, instead, they fall through the solid wall into a dusty alcove. They collide onto the ground with a heavy thud. Both wizards are stunned for a moment as they realize they are in another room.
Potter jumps up with his wand raised to Riddle. The latter stares around at the cold room with hunger. He dusts off his robes and trousers before casting a nonverbal Lumos in awe. Potter was a distant memory, for now, he would simply alter his memory before tonight's ends.
" Truce Potter, for it seems we may have discovered a very ancient part of Hogwarts. Can you not feel the sentient magic here?"
Both their eyes go to the only other thing in this tiny room, a vast bronze door that was etched in ivy and small sparrows. It was very ancient, much of the door was covered in thick green grime. Years worth of neglect was obvious. It was certain that no one alive knew of this hidden room.
" Where does it lead to Riddle?" Potter asked in curiosity, almost forgetting he was in a dark room with the heir of Slytherin himself.
" I presume Ravenclaw's library, notice the small birds? Let's try to open it.", Tom whispers in dark thirst, he taps his wand to the dull door.
" Okay, this is getting boring, Riddle. It's been over an hour, I thought you were the smartest student here? Ron would have opened this bloody door by now.'' Potter taps his head against the stone wall in annoyance as he watches the dark wizard try every dark spell known to try to open the heavy metal door.
Riddle counts to ten, he was seconds away from crucioing Potter to an inch of his life. "if you think you can do any better, then by all means please do so" He outstretched his arm towards the bronze door. Potter rolls his eyes before getting up and dusting his pajamas off.
He studies the door in speculation before ramming his foot on the center of the bronze slab. A heavy ring is heard throughout the room. Dust flitters from the ceiling, landing softly on both dark-haired wizards. Riddle rolls his eyes before placing his slender pale hand on the grimey doors.
" Did you think that brute force would open a magically locked door, Potter?"
" Well, it was a better idea than just staring at it. Did you think the door would open just because you will it? Maybe we should tell Dumbled-", Potter is not able to finish his sentence because Riddle grabs his enemy by the collar of his maroon and gold striped pajamas and slams him into the cursed door with such veracity that Potter bites through his tongue in searing anguish.
" If you think I'm going to allow you to run off and tell that fool Dumbledore my discovery then you are sorely mistaken. I will obliviate you here and now before I allow such transgressions Potter", seethes Riddle with barely concealed anger. The Gryffindor wizard ignores the dull throb from his tongue as he grabs Riddle's clenched fist from around his pajama collar and pulls the dark wizard's arm onto the forgotten door behind him. Tom, who was slightly taller centers his footing but not quickly enough before Potter succeeds and the dark wizard's arm slams into the door behind him.
At this time, the magically sealed door vibrates with an intense heat that neither was expecting. Once again the two enemies quickly forget their testosterone-fueled anger and stare in awe at the giant bronze door before them as it continues to vibrate at such a high frequency that they both clutch their ears in pain. There would be no way that the school would stay asleep if this was prolonged. However, just as fast as it happened, the high pitch ringing and heated vibrations stop and the door creaks open slowly.
Both wizards stare at the door for minutes before finally staring at the other with questioning familiarity. Potter is the first to speak. " Riddle..what the bloody hell just happened?" The dark wizard stares in glee at the small crack before saying "It seems that when both of us touched the door it finally granted us entrance… I wonder if it's because we are both heirs of the school's founders. Shall we put aside our differences and delve deeper into this mystery? You have my word that I shall not harm you in any way, for now at least" he adds sardonically before extending his arm to the shorter wizard.
Potter stares at the pale man's hand before sighing and shaking his hand in agreeance. Riddle smiles wickedly before letting go and dusting his polished robes with superiority.
" Excellent, a truce until we figure out what's behind this door, after you Potter", he extends his arm towards the entrance. His eyebrow raised mockingly as if Potter would ever refuse a chance to show off his brash nature. Potter straightens his shoulders and pushed forth the surprisingly light door.
To say that the area before them was grand would be an oversight, the bronzed room was gorgeous and airy, even with the scattered dust it was quite apparent that this room was meant to be a secret to many of the castle's occupants. The entire room was circular and bookcases as tall as the Forbidden Forrest trees covered the circular walls Each shelf held over a thousand books and interesting knick-knacks from every era of time. The plush carpet was moth-eaten but still a beautiful dark sapphire blue that reminded Potter of his family trips to the ocean. There seemed to be another room to the left that was covered by heavy bronze tassels.
However, this was not the most interesting thing that the ancient room offered. At its center was a huge table and on that table seemed to be a tomb-like capsule of purple ice. It was quite bizarre since the rooms were pleasantly warm and welcoming. Riddle and Potter stare at each other before both raising their wands and walking towards the center of the room towards the heavy bronze table.
Neither expected to see before them a small woman frozen in place. The frigid purple ice gave off pleasant humming vibrations that gave the swirling mist surrounding the ice capsule an almost sentient nature. The young woman seemed to be around their age, she was dressed in a simple tunic of dark blue and her curls were a beautiful golden color that reached her slim waist. What was most unsettling was that her soft hazel eyes were open and staring in frozen surprise, as if she was awake while trapped in her prison.
Tom's blood grew cold as he took in the beautiful woman before him. It was the witch from his dreams. Her hair was longer and her skin was paler but it was certainly the very same vixen that has haunted his dreams every night since he was a second year. He tears his eyes from the purple tomb to gauge Potter's reactions. The latter green eyes were wide with shock, his wand was clenched so tightly that his skin was as white as a ghost and it seemed that he had forgotten to breathe.
" Have you seen this girl before, Potter?" Tom asked almost certain that was why the foolish wizard before him was speechless. There was no way that both of them have had the same dreams. Riddle almost grew jealous at the very thought. He did not know the origin of this petite witch but he knew she was his to do with whatever he deemed fitting. He did not like the familiarity in Potter's eyes. Maybe he should oblivate the fool here and now. However, before he could act, Potter walks to the other side of the bronze table in quiet awe.
The Gryffindor wizard finally stares at Riddle with bewilderment and the dark wizard decides to wait until he knew Potter's secrets before erasing his memory" I...I've seen her in my dreams… though she was dressed differently… in medieval robes and braided hair... She always "
" Dies?", Toms asks knowingly and Potter grimly nods his head.
" I… I can never save her… she begs for me every time to save her...to save some man named Edmund… but I always wake up just as she bleeds out... I've had the dreams… nightmares for almost four years now. I've grown so accounted to them that they are a part of me...how did you know? That she dies every time?" Potter asks, his hand hovers over the frosted ice as if scared to connect with the small woman. Riddle stares that the mystery before them. He finally decides to answer, " I've had similar dreams, for years as well...she always disappears or dies like you said...although I've also had pleasant dreams about her… though few."
" What kind of pleasant dreams?" Potter asks, his eyes still strewn to the witch before them. Riddle ignores the question before asking one of his own. " Do you think if we both touch the ice that it would perhaps awaken her? I doubt that magic would since it did not make the door budge."
Porter snaps his green yes to Tom's darker ones in shock. " Do you think she is alive? There's no way she would be...right?" Riddle contemplates the question. He's never in his life seen this type of archaic magick but he was almost certain this was some kind of life-preserving tomb. The way her golden eyes stared forth, they had to be sentient.
" Well there's only one way to find out, now shall we? He finishes this by rolling up his left sleeve and hovers his hand above the frosted tomb, similar to where Potters once was. Harry stares at the dark wizard for seconds before deciding that it wouldn't hurt to test Riddle's theory. After all, it was apparent that they have both had dreams about her for many years. Maybe underneath all this ice she was alive and needed their help. Potter nods his head in agreement and raises his right hand directly across from Riddles.
" On the count of three then." He says and Riddle rolls his eyes before nodding as well.
" One...two...three," Harry says and both men put their bare hands onto the searing ice. The reaction was almost instant. As if their very two different magicks were the key to releasing the tiny witch, the purple ice begins to melt into purple fog and before long the tiny witch is encased no more. Her curls were soaking wet and her blue tunic hung to her body in such a way that gave off every curve of her body. The two wizards stare in silenced shocked, not knowing what they should do next.
After what seemed like mere seconds the beautiful woman before them blinks and sits up with a gasp of ragged breath. Both men jump at the sudden movement and raise their wands in natural defense. However, the tiny witch continues to cough as she took in deep mouthfuls of fresh air. Neither Tom nor Harry says anything, surely stunned at the bizarreness before them.
Finally, the curly woman stares at the two men with avid clarity. She seemed to take in their appearance with slow calculating mannerisms. Her soaking hair dripped onto the wet bronze table as her breathing finally began to slow to a normal pace. Both men were stunned in place, still unsure what to do next. She finally speaks and her voice was soft and melodious.
" I knew you would find me", she barely contains her grief before tears began to stream down her heart-shaped face in a fervent manner. " Benjamin…" she stares at Harry, who was perplexed at her state, clearly shocked. She then stares at Riddle before saying softly" Oh Edmund... I knew that you two would find-" however before she can finish, her eyes grow glassy and she faints back unto the puddled mess beneath her"
Harry jumps forth to grab her, but Tom reaches her first and pulls her into his arms. " Do not touch her Potter" he growled, shocked at his growing protection over the fainted girl. He puts his slender fingers to her freckled throat and sighs in relief as he feels the faint beat of her weak heart. He waves his wand and nonverbally dries her hair and clothing before pulling her towards the fireplace. Potter follows and flicks his wand and a roaring fire comes alive. The two men kneel next to her in silence. Both unsure of what they truly have discovered. Besides their shattered dreams, they did not remember this woman… they were both confused as to why she called them Edmund and Benjamin but one thing was for sure. This woman knew them, or at least knew of similar wizards. They also both knew that they would protect her at all costs. It was a weird brotherhood that they silently agreed would set aside their differences for now. This beautiful woman was somehow connected to both wizards and for that, they would have to become allies if they were to ever figure out her mysterious past..their apparent mysterious past.
Unknown to them, another figure watched silently from the dark hallway that leads to who knew where. The silvered-haired man was sure to keep his cloak on, not many mortals could see past his veil and he was grateful for this. For if the two wizards could see the silver-haired man, they would see that he was sad. Not that the curly-haired witch was finally awake, no he knew that eventually the trio would be united once more. No, the silver man was stricken with grief because she did not search for him in her very first moments of consciousness. He was the one who was there for her for hundred of years. He was the one that stayed by her side while these two infantile wizards walked past her frozen tomb for years, oblivious to her torment. He stared at the three mortals in somber jealousy. They would never deserve her. With this final thought, the silver man stepped into the primordial shadows and left the mortal world. He could not stay to watch her recovery, he had work to do, however, he vowed to come back as soon as he could. She would be his, this was the trio's last chance. The last chance to play their game. The game they all decided thousands of years ago around a campfire very much like the fire they sat upon now.