Author's note:
Thanks for all the reviews! I was on holiday for two weeks in January, which set me back a considerable amount with all my fanfics and my own writing schedule.
Please review with what you think!
Chapter 14: One way or another
Saturday, the last week of October...
Rosier entered the boy's dormitory cautiously, peeking around the door while inching his way through the doorway.
"I thought I told Nott I didn't want to be disturbed," Riddle drawled, not bothering to look up from his book as he lay casually on his bed, long legs folded in the picture of relaxed confidence.
"Well, I... er, Can I talk to you, Riddle?" he said tentatively. "If that's okay...?"
Riddle turned a page, his clever eyes still flying across the lines of text. But he raised a hand and provided Rosier permission with a lazy gesture.
The fair-haired boy came in and closed the door carefully behind him, before approaching. He waited respectfully, perched on the edge of his own bed, which was conveniently located next to Riddle's. For some reason the other boys had never begrudged him this 'privileged' position.
Riddle was silent for a few minutes longer, as he finished the chapter he'd been reading. Then, at last, he calmly closed the book and glanced over at Rosier, for the first time giving him attention. Though his expression was cool, indifferent really, Rosier knew better. The intensity of his dark gaze would allow no trace of deception to escape him.
Which made Rosier swallowed nervously, since he was just about to try and deceive Riddle. While he wasn't going to lie precisely (he would never agree to that), the conversation had been planned. With Amalia. Who was Riddle's sworn enemy. Which made this conversation just a few pegs short of suicidal.
"Well?" Riddle prompted smoothly. "I assume this is important."
"It is. Well," corrected Rosier hastily, "At least, I think it might be."
"Oh?"
"It's about Am- uh, the Gray girl," started Rosier, flushing as he realized he'd already made a mistake by using her first name. As if they were friends...
Riddle's expression didn't change, to his relief, but he knew it was impossible that he hadn't caught that little misstep. He noticed everything.
Dammit Amalia, I'm not cut out for this shit!
He forced his panic down and pushed on. "After... what happened with her in the Common Room that time," Rosier started, feeling awkward at the mere mention of the kiss - he thought Riddle's fingers tightened infinitesimally on the book too- "I thought it might be, um..." he swallowed, "Useful to get close to her." Riddle still made no reply, and his dark, intense gaze was making Rosier squirm. He continued, "You said you wanted to know her secrets... And, I think she trusts me now. She told me what she's been working on. I thought you'd want to know."
Riddle's eyebrows rose, his first expression since Rosier had started talking. But he still looked vaguely bored. "The mystery involving centaurs and ghosts? Do tell."
"She's after an ancient relic, presumably hidden in the Forbidden Forest," Rosier explained. "The centaurs told her it was a powerful Dark object, hidden some time after the Founders." As expected, a covetous gleam leapt up in Riddle's eyes at the mention of this tantalizing discovery.
"What does she want with a Dark object?" he demanded, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Rosier shrugged. "She says it's just out of curiosity... I don't think she knew it was a Dark object before meeting with the centaurs."
Riddle tapped his long fingers on the cover of his book pensively. "How did she start this little quest, then?"
"Actually," Rosier said hesitantly, shifting in place, "I... helped her with that. I met her in the Library one day and she was going through books about Hogwarts. She was about to start investigating the Hidden Corridor, and I... well... let slip that you'd already found it."
Now there was definite anger surfacing in the taller boy's eyes, "And what else did you let slip?" he hissed venomously.
Rosier blanched and back-tracked quickly, "N-nothing! I swear, Riddle! I didn't mention the Room or anyth-"
"She already knows about the Room," interrupted Riddle, with an irritated sigh.
"Wha-? How did she- Riddle, I swear I didn't-" Rosier spluttered.
"Stop panicking, fool," Riddle snapped, rolling his eyes. "I know you didn't tell her. It doesn't matter."
Rosier fell silent - if he knew, then that must mean... Riddle himself had told her, perhaps? But why?
Rosier froze, suddenly suspicious. Amalia hadn't said anything... What on earth did they do together in a Room that could cater to your every need...?
"Gray's no fool," Riddle said tersely, as if speaking to himself, "Even if you said nothing... She might already have-" he suddenly broke off and looked sharply at Rosier as if seeing him for the first time.
Rosier found himself quite unable to speak, his mind screaming, He knows, he knows he knows, oh shit he's going to kill me-
Then the tension broke, as Riddle looked away, and Rosier could breathe again.
What... just happened...?
"I'll take your word that you didn't betray me, Rosier," Riddle said smoothly. "Continue with what you were saying."
"R-right," Rosier stuttered. It seemed he wasn't about to be murdered... Yet. "S-so, to take her attention from your secrets, I recommended she investigate the Moving Stones, in the Forbidden Forest. I didn't think it would lead to anything. They're the stones that-"
"Move, I know of them," finished Riddle impatiently. "What, did you think I wouldn't care because they were not exactly in the castle grounds?"
Rosier blinked, surprised. "Oh, I just assumed-"
"There's nothing in Hogwarts that escapes my notice," he asserted arrogantly, folding his arms. Rosier stifled an admiring sigh - he loved it when Riddle got all high-handed.
"So, have you-"
"I haven't found the time to solve that particular mystery just yet." Riddle snapped irritably.
Rosier could have almost described his expression as a pout - before he shook himself out of such traitorous thoughts. Riddle never pouted. He'd clearly been spending too much time with Amalia.
"Well, Gray says the Stones are a map. But they're always moving, so she went to the centaurs for advice. They told her a student of Slytherin long ago made the trail, some wizard."
Riddle seemed interested by this - he was always on the lookout for artifacts with some connection to Slytherin. Amalia was right, Rosier thought shakily, He really is taking the bait!
"And she went to ask the Bloody Baron for help."
Riddle smirked. "I bet that went well."
"She actually found something he wants," Rosier said. "But she needed a specific book to help her. She confided in me about it..." He reached into his bag and withdrew a tattered olive-green journal. He'd bookmarked the section Amalia had been searching for. "I found it."
Riddle accepted the offered book and looked approvingly at Rosier. "Well, you may actually have done something right after all, Rosier..." His mind was already churning with all the schemes he could pull off.
The fair-haired boy went pink at this slight praise. It seemed Stage 1 of Amalia's plan had worked, despite a few hiccups...
The next day...
"So, this is where you've been hiding." Riddle's cool voice echoed up the tower as he emerged onto the top floor of the Owlery. It was early twilight, and owls of various breeds and colours fluttered in and out of the tower, through large gaps in the stonework which cast dappled shadows over the drama about to unfold.
Amalia looked up with a gasp, spinning to face him. "Riddle! What are you doing here?"
Tom narrowed his eyes at her. Her surprise seemed genuine, but then, she was a good actress. "I happened to hear you were involved in something interesting," he explained, approaching with his hands casually in his pockets. "I thought I'd see for myself."
Amalia's eyes swept him from head to toe. No doubt he's already holding his wand, she thought to herself. This was a dangerous situation. She'd let herself get distracted by her work, and her own wand lay on the table about a meter away. If he decided to curse her now she wouldn't have time to- Damn, but he does look... fine, she interrupted herself, impressed. Since it was the weekend, he'd forgone his usual school robes in favor of a plain white shirt with his black winter coat over it. Like a giant bat, she reminded herself, but she had to admit the 'mysterious stranger' look suited him. With his pale face, dark hair and enigmatic smile, plus the fact that he'd appeared silently out of the twilight... it was rather vampiric.
"Oh?" her sarcasm seemed just a little forced as she tore her eyes away from the casually unbuttoned top of his shirt, through which she could just discern the hint of a collarbone... "And just who was your miraculous source?" she demanded.
"You should know by now, Gray, the walls have ears," he replied smoothly. "Nothing happens at Hogwarts without me knowing about it."
His eyes traveled from her annoyed expression to the table behind her. On it were several large cages, containing a number of irate ravens. A couple were spread out on the table, clearly dead; the results of failed experiments, it seemed. From the large pile of scribbled notes and flasks of potions strewn about, he assumed she'd been working on it for quite some time.
"I had no idea you felt this strongly about bird extermination," he baited with a smirk, approaching to inspect her notes.
Amalia relaxed slightly - it seemed he hadn't come out here to duel, this time.
She'd had to come to the Owlery to concentrate - Callidora's shriek upon walking in on her performing an autopsy on a dead bird had left her ears ringing. Strangely, the other girls seemed to object to her experiments.
"The problem isn't killing them," she explained reluctantly, "It's bringing them back." she pointed at her notes. "The usual potion that a person takes in order to become a ghost upon death doesn't seem to work, and my... er... alterations aren't making any difference." Despite popular belief, ghosts did not spontaneously spring into being when someone was killed unexpectedly or held a grudge (the ghosts themselves would often perpetuate these false assumptions). In actuality, a rather tricky potion was the catalyst - and the effects stayed in the body for many years, possibly explaining why many ghosts were still 'surprised' upon reawakening after experiencing a sudden death.
"Hm," said Riddle, and snorted at her notes contemptuously. "No wonder, this is way beyond your potion-making level." With a sleight of hand, he was suddenly holding up a small vial of amber-coloured liquid. Amalia blinked at it in surprise. "If only," he said with fake wistfulness, spinning the vial deftly across his long fingers, "There was someone who just happened to have successfully brewed the exact potion you need..."
"How did you-!" Amalia cursed. "That damn Rosier! I should've known he couldn't keep his mouth shut. I wouldn't have thought you'd actually help me, though-"
Riddle smiled, then jerked the vial away as Amalia reached for it. "You don't get anything for free, of course," he sneered.
"Of course." she repeated grimly, sounding resigned. "What do you want? Should we duel for it?"
He gazed at her smugly, enjoying the feeling of being able to hold something over her. "What would be the point?" he said at last. "If I won, I'd get nothing as a reward - except perhaps satisfaction."
Amalia noticed he said "if". It seemed he was no longer certain of his own superiority in that area. She almost grinned outright - that knowledge must be killing him. But it was unexpected... she'd really thought he'd be keen for a rematch. What else could he want from her...? She kept her expression aloof. "So? What would be an 'equal exchange', in your opinion?"
"That spell you used in our duels - the Chrysalium Curse, I believe it's called - you found it in a book, I'd imagine?"
Amalia narrowed her eyes at him. He was talking about the golden curse she was so fond of - it was the strongest curse she knew besides Unforgivables. Unblockable, except by its counter-curse. "And if I did? You already know the counter-curse." In their last duel, he'd surprised her by cancelling it.
"I doubt it's the only interesting thing in the book. I assume you still have it." he remembered her extensive book collection, now secreted away in her enchanted trunk.
She scowled. That tome was classified as a Level 6 Dark Arts book, complete with a Burn-Upon-Reading warning. If you were found with it in your posession and you'd read it, you'd spend a hefty time in Azkaban. Although there was nothing more the book could teach her, she certainly didn't want it falling into Riddle's hands... But...
"That's your price?" she hesitated, glancing at the amber vial.
He felt smug, sensing her reluctance. "It is."
"Fine," she snapped, hoping she wouldn't regret it in the future. "I'll get the book, we'll kill the bird. Assuming the potion works..."
Riddle's answering smile was was both dazzling and chilling. "Of course it will."
"Then we have a deal." she stuck out her hand.
He hesitated briefly before shaking on it - he hated touching people.
Amalia stifled a shiver too - his hand was cold as ice.
Friggin' vampire.
Early the next morning, Monday...
"Finally!" Amalia exclaimed.
The Bloody Baron turned to face her. "Oh, back again, I see."
"I've been searching for you for hours," she cried. After Riddle gave her the potion and took her book, she'd worked on some extra charms to keep the raven tame and so on until past midnight, and then started her search for the Baron immediately. "It's almost dawn."
But the Baron only had eyes for her bargaining chip, which was perched miserably on Amalia's shoulder, semi-transparent and clearly a conscious, intact, ghostly raven.
"That's your new master," she told it, pointing to the ghost. "Go on, shoo."
The raven gave a mournful-sounding croak of understanding and flew to perch on the Baron's shoulder, causing the ghost to actually be at a loss for words for a few moments.
"Well," he said at last, gingerly petting the bird with one bloodstained finger. "I must say I'm impressed." The raven seemed to enjoy it - perhaps realizing that he was not alone in the non-corporeal world of spirits.
"You should be," Amalia grumbled. "It was damn difficult. I've increased his intelligence and he's quite tame - you should be able to train him up if you want."
"Mm." grunted the ghost, still preoccupied with examining his new pet. Delighted seemed a little strong to describe it, but he was definitely pleased.
Amalia sighed in relief. To be honest, the raven was a little on the moth-eaten side, and its personality seemed rather apathetic. But... perhaps that made it a good match for the morose Bloody Baron.
"So, we had a deal?" prompted Amalia.
"Ah, yes." said the Baron, turning back to her. "You wanted to pick my memory about something."
"Right, so..." started Amalia, and quickly launched into a brief summary of her quest so far.
He listened carefully, unblinking, while his raven gave the occasional quiet croak, preening it's ethereal feathers.
"...And so," she finished, "I need to know if you remember anything about a Slytherin involved in the Stones. Any detail would be appreciated."
"It so happens," answered the Baron, "I know quite a bit about it."
Amalia's heart leapt at this unexpected good news.
"The one who made the trail was a classmate of mine," he continued, "Here at Hogwarts. We were taught by Salazar Slytherin himself, you know..."
"Who was it, then?" she said eagerly.
"That, I won't tell you." the Baron deadpanned.
"What! But, you promised-"
"Silence!" barked the ghost. "I'll not betray the trust of a friend to aid some foolish treasure hunt. However," he stroked the raven pensively, "We did have a deal. So, I can tell you a little about the trail itself." he snorted. "Even if you managed to find it, you wouldn't survive past the first couple of Trials, anyway. You'd die, alone in the forest... Like all the rest."
This ominous statement, rumbled in his creepiest, deepest voice, didn't seem to effect her enthusiasm at all.
"So, many others have followed the Stones?" she demanded bossily.
"Of course. Were you not listening? It's been there since almost the beginning of Hogwarts. And, for your information, it's made with magic far beyond your capabilities, girl."
"I'll be the judge of that," Amalia said stubbornly. "So? You've given me nothing to go on so far. Where do I start?"
"Tch." he snorted at her insistence. "Very well. Obviously, I can't tell you where the first stone is, since it moves every month. Neither do I know the magical traps and puzzles at each stage - I've never seen them. All I know is the adventurers who attempt them don't return. I can tell you that there are seven - also obvious; seven is the most powerful magical number..."
"Well... what's the object?" Amalia was getting frustrated.
"Once again, I was sworn to secrecy-"
"Ugh!" Amalia facepalmed.
"Stop it with the hysterics," growled the ghost. "There's one more thing. Do you know the Come-and-Go Room?"
Amalia's eyebrow lifted. "Yes."
"Hidden in 'the place where everything's hid' is a large tapestry, I believe, which depicts a moving chart of the current location of the first stone. One of the more intelligent treasure-hunters created it about a century ago... before his sudden disappearance."
"Great!" Amalia exclaimed. "Let's go!"
The Baron sighed. "Now?"
"Yes, now!" she cried. "You're coming with, and you can point it out to me yourself. Then, consider the debt repaid in full." She glared, eyes slightly bloodshot from lack of sleep, daring him to refuse.
This girl is starting to grow on me, mused the Baron to himself, acquiescing.
Amalia stared at the spot the Baron was pointing at. It was dim in the cluttered vault of miscellaneous crap that people had dumped over the years, but she could still tell that there was nothing there.
Only a tapestry-shaped outline in the inch-thick dust which covered everything else.
"Explain." she veritably spat, temper frayed beyond belief.
"How strange," exclaimed the Baron wickedly, "It was here yesterday..."
"You were here yesterday." she pinched the bridge of her nose.
She'd been completely played.
"That classmate of yours was very... persuasive." The Baron explained. "Though, now that you actually did come through on your promise," he indicated the raven, "I do feel a little bad. Rest assured, I didn't tell him anything else about the Stones. You two are equally in the dark."
Amalia kicked out in a fit of temper, sending a miniature cauldron flying like a soccer ball. Riddle had been two steps ahead of her from the start... he'd already had the tapestry when he'd brought her the potion! Then, was the book on the Dark Arts his original goal? She'd underestimated him.
The Baron seemed amused. "But, my task is done. After all, at least you know where it is now."
"That I do," Amalia hissed menacingly, fiddling tensely with her wand. Her plans had backfired, but she'd be getting that tapestry... One way or another...
The Bloody Baron hid a smirk as he floated off - she looked ready to spit sparks after all that effort and nothing to show for it.
He did not envy the charismatic, dark-haired student...
He'd just really pissed her off.
Author's note:
Can anyone guess who the mysterious creator of the Moving Stones was yet? He's just mentioned in passing in the books. It's still a while before I make the big reveal, though.
The next chapter is almost done :D