Her mind raced as the idea ran through her head.
Master of Death.
It sounded pretentious to her but she needed to know a way to get back, find a reason why she was reborn in that universe, in that time as his sister. It was a vague, nebulous idea and she suspects, could use a bit more thought but she needed the Hallows.
Gather the Hallows. Master Death.
Find a way home.
She knew where each were, the ring with Morfin, probably in Azkaban or at Little Hangleton, the cloak with the Potters and the wand was with Grindelwald.
She could learn to steal the ring from Morfin, confident that an uneducated tool like him could be waylaid once she mastered the Stunning spell. The cloak and wand, on the other hand, would require some planning.
The wand was easy. Wait until Dumbledore defeats Grindelwald and then offer the ring's 'services' for a chance at it.
As for the cloak…she could befriend the Potters, somehow but she'd find a way to get her hands on it. Perhaps drop hints to Dumbledore, she hoped that wizard was still interested with the Hallows.
Rough, full of holes and can backfire spectacularly.
But it was a semblance of a plan and it was better than nothing.
Then a part of her began to whisper.
You are here, the voice said, why cling to your past when you have greatness before you? Forget your family, embrace this opportunity! It exclaimed. You can change everything!
Sirius and Lupin could live, Lily and James could watch their son grow and perhaps, Albus could reconcile with himself and learn to love again. Even Snape could grow up and become a less bitter and cruel berk that he had turned out to be.
Then she remembered her mother and her father, embracing her, love poured from their very soul. Their faces blurred from increasingly faded memory but the love is still there. She remembered their pride as she graduated university, getting her first job, renting her first apartment. Her mother, who's cooking shamed the best of chefs, her father who could whip up drawings of buildings that soared the skies, her brothers and sisters each with their own talent and infinite kindness.
She bit her lip, stopping the tears that threatened to come.
Time heals, she knew but the ache only softened, never to fade.
"Mary, eat." Tom's voice broke her thoughts. Without waiting, he placed a slice of roast chicken onto her plate, then pushed the goblet of pumpkin juice near her. She lifted her fork and took a nibble and her hunger, ignored before, demanded for more.
It took a lot of effort not to drop her fork and devour it like a savage, the orphanage's food left a lot to be desired and meat was not something people had often due to lack of proper refrigeration and supply.
No such issue was there at Hogwarts. Roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, hot gravy and pies were all around. Even the air was delicious. Though Tom was also decorously eating his meal, she noticed how quickly he swallowed each bite, as though he too could not believe such luxury existed.
Learn how to smuggle food, she noted to herself. Although it had been more than a decade, she vowed never to suffer such horrible food ever again. So she continued, feasting on food, when Tom suddenly went rigid beside her.
"…Tom?" she whispered quietly to her twin as blood drained from his face.
The air turned cold and she heard gasps from all around.
Silver specters descended from the ceiling, old witches and wizards of long past in various stages of death, floated past the candles, each eyeing the students with interest.
Ghosts, she had forgotten about the ghosts at Hogwarts.
Ignoring the snickers from the older students, she clenched her Tom's hands.
You do not exist, return to God from whence you came.
They were ghastly things. The books made them sound almost mundane, but there is nothing mundane about a man's face twisted in rage with blood streaming down his clothes, of a sad faced woman with unnaturally sunken eyes, or a friar's skin dark and cracked from fire. There others too, each of their wounds proudly displayed.
The fact that nobody fainted was a miracle.
The ghosts greeted them student merrily, ignoring some of the more frightened looks in the crowd.
"My, look at them, so young and full of life," a ghost with a ruffed neck said, she guessed it must be Nearly Headless Nick. The man covered in blood frowned, then glided towards them. She had no idea how she managed not to break down as the Bloody Baron froze next to her, his dark eyes narrowed.
She remembered the rattle, deep and soaked with death, of a young boy who screamed and she held her breath.
The chatters seemed far away as she continued to stare into those deep, dark eyes.
She could see claw marks on his face, did the Grey Lady did that? Clawing at him as life slipped through her lungs, regret in her mind as she died?
No wonder Peeves feared you, she thought.
Dimly, she was aware a silence had descended next to her, Tom's finger dug into her palm when the Baron's lip split open in a horrifying grin.
Then he laughed.
And laughed and laughed before passing through her – itwascoldcoldcoldandshecan'tbreathe- and vanished from the hall.
Suddenly, she became aware of the stares, living and dead, at her way.
A moment of silence past before a snort broke through.
"Didn't know that the Baron could laugh." A young Gryffindor barked and the silence broke. The chatting resumed as though it never stopped but Mary noticed that no other ghost passed the Slytherin table.
#
"What was that?" her twin demanded.
"Tom, if I knew I'd tell you." She responded honestly.
She had no idea just why the Baron laughed as he did. From what she heard the Baron was known to moan and moan only, so for him to laugh was unprecedented.
"Yeah, a bit odd for him to laugh. Never heard him do that in all my years here." An older student, a Lestrange girl chimed in.
"Maybe it was a lark?" another girl piped up.
A mousy boy shook his head, "Or maybe Peeves finally got to him,"
"-who is Peeves?"
There was a sigh, "The poltergeist, honestly Richard you sound like some Mug-"
"If you don't pay attention, I will make sure all of you will be without passwords for the rest of the term!" shouted the irritated prefect.
They all turned as the tall, pointy faced boy glared at them.
"I will only say this once: the password is 'Purity'. It is meant for Slytherins and Slytherins alone. If I find out anyone had shared or slipped this password to other House students, they will be caned and served detention! Understood?"
There was a murmur of agreement, the prefect nodded then opened the door.
The common room was large and homely, despite being covered in dark green and silver colouring. Across the room was a large glass wall, showing the depths of the Great Lake. A few fishes and odd looking creatures, magical of nature, floated by.
A few boys and girls occupied the comfortable couches near the fireplace, some were reading books and a few played with chess and other board games.
It looked cozy and welcoming and not like the movies she had seen.
The prefect, a Longbottom – to her surprise – directed them towards their dorms.
As the others turned and chose their beds, Tom grabbed her arm.
"This is real, isn't it?"
She looked at the walls, the moving portraits, the candles that float without strings and chess pieces that move without touch. Her brother's awed eyes.
She smiled.
"Yes, yes it is."
#
For the first time, she turned to look at her roommates closely. There were three of them and judging from the pure silver crests on their trunks, they had to be from Pureblood families. She became acutely aware just how shabby and worn down she was.
They were sitting on their beds, wearing their nightclothes as she dragged her trunk towards the only empty bed. They were talking to each other but ceased as they saw her come in.
Quickly, she changed into her own night gown. She was about to set up her meager belongings when one of them, a beautiful long haired girl beckoned her.
"…um,"
"Oh, don't be shy! We're all friends now! Do join us!" the girl chippered and then offered her a tin of biscuits. The other two, a round face blonde and a hard jawed red-head giggled as they took bites from theirs.
Eyeing them suspiciously, she took a small round biscuit and bit it, it was sweet and she sat, cross-legged on her bed. Seeing as she wasn't turned into a canary or newt, she muttered as thank you.
"My name is Dorothy Prewett and this is Irma Bulstrode," she pointed to the hard jawed girl, "…and this is Edith Parkinson," the blonde girl nodded.
"I'm afraid we were not properly introduced…"
"My name's Mary Riddle," she said and involuntarily stiffened as Edith's smile became fixed. Irma just stared bemusedly. Dorothy didn't even flinch.
"Oh, a Riddle! I haven't heard of that name before," she said, ignoring Edith's strained smiled.
"Are you a Muggle-born?" the latter asked pointedly.
"Edith!" Dorothy turned towards her roommate.
"I am simply curious, if she's Muggle-born, she might not know about certain…expectations," Edith replied.
"Don't be so crude!" Dorothy huffed but turned to Mary, questioning, "…well, are you?"
Well, the Riddle girl thought, at least blood purity is still a thing. It would be disconcerting if the truth was Slytherin were always welcoming of Muggle-borns in the past and that Voldemort was why things were so bad in the future.
She was still trying to get used to the lack of jeers between the Gryffindors and Slytherin.
"I am unsure," she replied, "I'm an orphan you see, so I do not know if any of my parents were magical folk," It was not a complete lie. She wondered what Tom would have said if asked such a question in such a manner. He'd probably smile charmingly, then hex them in the future.
"Poor you," sniffed Edith, her tone made it clear she was not feeling sorry at all. Dorothy scowled at her roommate, "What my dear Edith, wishes to say is that, I am sorry to hear that. Isn't that right, Edith?"
Edith shrugged and judging from the glint in Dorothy's eyes, she had come to the conclusion that her roommate was being utterly rude. Sensing the tension, Mary shrugged as well.
"It's fine. It's very kind of you,"
"Aren't you that girl the Baron laughed at?" Irma spoke up suddenly. Mary jumped a bit, finding Irma mellifluous voice at odds with her face.
"That was you?" Dorothy turned, eyebrows raised. Even Edith lifted her head, eyeing Mary with interest.
"Yes, and no, I do not know why he laughed. Maybe he found my face funny?" she said. It was puzzling and part of her wanted to march down and demand an answer. But she would rather not spend her time at Hogwarts fending off a blood-drench ghost. She was already dreading meeting Peeves.
Dorothy shook her head and suppressed a shudder, "The Baron is quite awful; my uncle told me haunts the dungeons. Some say he seeks the one who murdered him long ago,"
"I heard from my papa that's where he keeps the bodies of slow wizards who failed their exams," Edith added, becoming interested in the conversation.
"Well, I heard…"
The three continued to speak, wondering the past of each ghost while Mary was forgotten.
A yawn escaped her lips and she pulled the curtains and dropped her head onto her pillow. They were soft and clean and she groaned at the fact that she would be parted from this by the end of the school year.
She tried to imagine Tom in the boy's dorm. He could imagine him being miserable – he had always loathed sharing space with anyone, barely tolerating her. But he could be charming and knowing how he always get his way (well, mostly), she could imagine him trying to figure out a way to utterly dominate his dorm.
Well, this was it. She was here. Hogwarts.
As though it was written, she has a goal in place. The Hallows, Mastery of Death and finding a way home.
She could live, accept her current fate, be the witch countless dreamt to be; be the moral chain to Tom and save the lives of characters she once wept for.
…but she couldn't.
Her family is waiting for her and no matter how amazing the place is, no matter how fortunate, a part of her still wish, no, need, to go home.
As her eyes closed, she whispered to herself, "Wait for me…I'll come home soon."
#
Author's Note: Well, keeping timelines is ridiculously hard. Thank goodness for wikis or I'd be lost! This chapter is long, for me that is. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much for your kind reviews and comments. I'm sorry if I don't reply but I am kinda awkward, when it comes to PMs but know that I love each and every one. Thanks again for reading!
AN 2 FLASH EDIT: Oh my, that was rather silly, I lost some of my formatting. I hope I had fixed all of it.