The next two months were just as energetic, though not quite as destructive. All the teachers sought to prepare the fifth-year students for the upcoming OWLs with a final burst of cramming. Dumbledore was apparently accused of some kind of civil insurrection and fled the school, leaving Dolores Umbridge as the new Headmistress. Punishments were becoming severe, and the school's atmosphere was taking on a kind of paranoid fascism. To top it all off, the Weasley Twins were gone, having exited the school in grand fashion in response to Umbridge's attempt to punish them for a variety of unacceptable activities.

In the middle of this, Eric tried to do as he had been doing: lying low and keeping his extra-curricular activities out of sight. It was now well into Spring, and students were going through career counseling with the heads of their houses. It was a Wednesday afternoon when Eric had his appointment, and he dreaded it. With everything else he had gone through in his life, he never had time to consider what to do with the rest of it.

Naomi had hers that morning. She didn't seem bothered too much by it before she went in; Professor Flitwick was well known as a fair and pleasant instructor. However, she immediately found Eric after her visit. "You have to go – now!"

"Naomi – what's up?"

"Umbridge was there. I saw into her mind... I couldn't help it, she looked me straight in the eyes. She's out to get you, and it's worse than expulsion. Her trap is set, and all she's waiting for is for you to walk into it. She's going to arrest you when you go in for career counseling."

Eric was stunned. Surely he didn't do anything worth expulsion. "There's not enough time."

"Get to the Chamber of Secrets and let me know. We'll seal up the entrances behind you as soon as it's safe." She pushed him towards the Ravenclaw Dormitory. "She's probably searching for you – go now!"

Eric did his best, but he wasn't halfway to his destination before he heard a sickeningly sweet voice behind him. "Oh, there you are Mister Sable!" Eric turned and felt his heart sink as the Headmistress came up to him. "I was just on my way to meet you in Professor Flitwick's office. Come along now!" He shivered as her fat fingers pushed on his shoulders, forcing him away from the dormitory and back to the teacher's offices.

Professor Flitwick was his usual friendly self. "Ah, Mister Sable – do come in. I've been looking over your records, and I must say I'm very impressed. Despite a rather, shall we say bohemian approach to your education, you have managed extremely good grades on your tests. Your OWLs should prove to be no great challenge..."

"Hem hem!" Eric had managed to count off ten seconds before she interrupted. "Yes, we are all aware that Eric is a young man of considerable talents. In fact, I do believe your wand is of your own making. May I see it, please?" Eric would have rather jumped out the window, but he knew he was trapped. His next move would have to be a careful one. "A remarkable color. What is the core made of?"

"Manticore mane." He hated answering questions, but as of yet he had no reason not to.

"A good choice. I imagine the result is quite effective."

Professor Flitwick was growing restless. "Headmistress, I really see no reason for this line of discussion. We're supposed to be assisting Mister Sable in choosing a career path that would best suit his talents."

Professor Umbridge turned to Flitwick. "That won't be necessary. You see, Mister Sable has been under observation by myself for some time now, and especially during my stay here at Hogwarts. He has, on multiple occasions, flouted the decrees against underage use of magic. He has engaged in highly dangerous magical experiments without the approval of the Ministry, he has animated guardians, protected verminous creatures, and has illegally captured Golden Snidgets in direct violation of Ministry decrees."

Eric was stunned at how much she had found out. Dolores went on with her accusations. "You see, I've been investigating you ever since I first encountered you. Your actions often violated rules of order, but without definite proof no charges could be brought. My being posted here in an effort to improve order here at Hogwarts was a blessing, as I could now investigate your residences here. Mister Filtch was more than helpful in directing me where I wanted to go, and now I have seen all that I need to."

She puffed herself up, looking more like a fat frog than ever. "As High Inquisitor and Headmistress of Hogwarts, I have the authority to dispense what discipline I believe is necessary. As such, for all his offenses, Eric Sable is to be publicly whipped, and his property confiscated. He is to be expelled from this school, and the Ministry of Magic is to be informed of all his illegal activities. As of this moment, young man, your spell-casting days are OVER!" With that she took his wand in both hands and snapped it in half.

Eric's reaction was more reflex than anything else, as he proceeded to bolt out the door. The Headmistress was so intent on her performance that she failed to notice that she had paced the room and was currently behind Flitwick's desk. Further, with Eric's snapped wand in either hand, she was not prepared for his escape. As he flew out the door and down the stairs, she was still fumbling with her cardigan, struggling to draw her wand out to stop him.

He raced for the back stairs and down; down as far as he could. Rather than going anywhere he might encounter Naomi or the others, though, he cut outside then down into a drainage culvert. This would lead him back into the school's drainage pipes, and back to the Chamber of Secrets. Once he got there, he closed the great door behind him and focused on Naomi, letting her know he was there.

He had to work quickly. Umbridge would be searching for him, and the Chamber had to remain safe. Figuring that he had at most a few days, he began securing what he felt he couldn't carry. He'd need his broom, a few potions, and a wand. Having no choice, he dug out the Rukh wand he still kept from the summer. It was overkill, and would be difficult to manage, especially for subtle spells. Still, better a wand than not.

He decided to quickly search the library for books worth keeping. While doing so, he found a scrap of paper that caught his eye. It wasn't research, but rather simple scratchings on a piece of paper.

T o m M a r v o l o R i d d l e : Malevolod Mortoridam Mortovord Voldemort

M a o r i d l: Diramol Maidrol Lid- Lordiam Lord I Am

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

Eric stood for an eternity looking at those simple letters. This was written by Tom Riddle, his great-grandfather. A sickening realization came upon him: to change your name created the worst form of bad luck in the Wizarding World. It was a denial of self and heritage that cursed the recipient forever. It was because of this that he always had one lead on his father – Sable meant something, something real.

Voldemort also meant something. Eric studied him long ago, to find out how someone could become that evil. There was no house or history of the Voldemorts, which indicated that the name was a fabrication. The spelling suggested French, which broke down to 'flight from death' or 'theft from death' or something regarding "flight/theft of/from/by/with death". Clearly, he was trying to scare people with his name as much as anything, which in a large part he succeeded. However, he was dealing in magic. He couldn't completely divest himself from Tom Marvolo Riddle. Therefore, he made up the name he needed. Eric sank into a chair, filled to the brim with unbelief. His great-grandfather was alive. Unfortunately, he was the one person feared and despised more than any other in the world.

It was well into nightfall before Eric could do anything. During that remaining time he packed what he could, then took up the cloak of invisibility. Unfortunately, one look in the mirror indicated a dreadful failure. The cloak did turn him invisible, along with anything on him that wasn't otherwise enchanted. However, everything that did bear an enchantment was still visible. His vest, gloves and boots all bore protection charms, the Rukh wand stood out like a sore thumb, and there was of course the cloak itself.

As an invisibility cloak it was a horrible failure. It did, however, afford his identity a certain amount of concealment. Needing every advantage he could get, he drew it over his shoulders and pulled up the hood.

First there would be a quick dinner at the Hog's Head, after which he would pick up Midget and Widget from the post office. From there he would head out to the only half-safe place he knew. It wasn't what he would call a good plan, but Knockturn Alley was the one place he could hide long enough to get his bearings. He'd spend one night at the Rookery, where he'd come up with a plan for his next move.