Riddle Me This: Chapter Five
Tom headed to the library as soon as he was dismissed from class, unscathed by the stray hexes that had hit many of his fellow Slytherins. He and Blythe seemed to be the only ones unmarred by any lasting damage from their house, and one of the Gryffindor boys had managed to avoid most of the hexes thrown his way as well. Blythe had excused herself from his presence to accompany Vincent to the hospital wing, presumably to thank him for having gotten the one Gryffindor out of her way before he could hit her.
Staring blankly at the shelf of books in front of him, Tom couldn't help but wonder if Katrina had made up the book to keep him busy from interrupting her. He'd been looking for over a quarter of an hour, and had yet to find a single book on the founders of Hogwarts. With a sigh he left the aisle he was in, approaching the librarian at her desk.
"Madam Thao, may I trouble you for a moment?" Tom asked politely, offering the stern-looking librarian a smile.
"Yes, what is it?" She glanced up from the list of books she'd been cataloging.
"I was wondering if you could help me find a book on the founders of Hogwarts. Particularly one about their family trees. I'd heard that there was a book that magically added their kins' names each time another one was born, and I have yet to find it amongst your shelves."
"Of course I can help you find it. Right this way." Madam Thao eased her willowy frame from behind her desk, leading the Slytherin boy over to one of the aisles he hadn't gotten to. She searched the shelves for a moment, finally pulling a thin, dusty tome from the top shelf and handing it to him.
"Thank you very much, ma'am. I'll be sure to replace it when I'm done with it." He walked off with the book under his arm, finding an empty study carol and pulling out a sheaf of parchment and quill to write his findings. Another quarter of an hour later and he was done, stuffing the parchment into the pocket of his robe and placing the book back on its proper shelf.
"Thanks again, Madam Thao," Tom said as he left the library. Once in the corridor he broke into a trot, sliding down the wooden banister in his haste to get back to Katrina. Turning down the hallway she was hanging on, he started shouting.
"I got it, I got it!" He skidded to a halt in front of her frame, waving his findings in front of her excitedly. "I am his heir! See!" He pointed to the paper that held his name beneath his mother's, which even included a current-day photo of him. The boy was ecstatic. The photo of him was even moving.
"And you're up there, at the top next to Salazar," he continued, pointing it out to Katrina. Her picture, or what he assumed to be her, had been included as well, though she looked a lot younger than she did in the portrait he was speaking with. "You look pretty," he mentioned casually. Upon seeing the look on her face he quickly rectified himself. "I mean, you still do look pretty! In fact, you look even better now." He was digging a deeper hole for himself, and he tried once more to salvage the situation. "I mean…"
He was cut off by a deep, throaty chuckle from the portrait of the man hanging next to her. This man had dark, bushy brows and a smirk that reminded Tom of his own. His hair was as dark as his brows, falling just short of his shoulders, though it was tied back into a ponytail of sorts. In his portrait he was seated in a high, winged-back chair, a rather large snake curling around its legs.
Tom hadn't even noticed this portrait before, and gazed at him with wide eyes as he spoke.
"She's used to it, boy, don't bother trying to say anything about it. We all know, she most of all, that she became a sore sight after hitting fifty," the portrait of the man chuckled once more, before turning his sharp gaze to Tom. "So, you're my heir, eh? I figured you'd be a bit bigger. Kind of scrawny…" He trailed off, looking down at the awe-struck boy standing in front of his portrait. "Close your mouth, boy; I won't have any heir of mine walking around the school with an open trap!"
Tom's jaw started working again, and he pressed his lips together in a thin line. He held his tongue, not wanting to insult not only the founder of this school but also his own bloodline. The portrait seemed to smirk at him.
"So…so you're Salazar," Tom clarified. The portrait nodded. "Why have I never seen you around here before? I mean, why not speak up earlier?"
To his right, Katrina chuckled. And then something happened that he would never imagine, not even in his wildest dreams. She stepped from her portrait to Salazar's, moving the snake out of the way and settling on his lap with the same familiarity that Tom had once used when he'd go crying to Mr. Cowin back when he was very young.
"He's only here for a little while longer. You see, Tom, Salazar's portrait is not allowed to remain in one spot for more than a few hours. Godric, he founded Gryffindor, had a spell placed on this portrait after it was commissioned. He thought that if any of the students found out who he was, terrible things would result," Katrina sneered at Salazar, though it was not meant for him to take offense. She was just stating a fact, and as with the nature of almost all Slytherins, it came with a complimentary sneer.
"So where do you go after this?" Tom asked.
"Couldn't tell you," Salazar said. "My appearances are random, and seldom do I stay long enough for Katrina to get to me. This is about the fifth time I've seen her in all these years." He placed a hand on her waist affectionately, and in turn she placed a chaste kiss on his lips.
Tom cleared his throat. "This isn't going to turn into a snogging session, is it?" His nose wrinkled, though he was really only kidding with his long-dead kin.
"It just might." Katrina winked at him, turning back to her lover and whispering something that caused him to blush a deep crimson. He then looked to Tom, and cleared his throat much the same way the boy had done just moments before. Before he could even open his mouth, the portrait started to emit a faint sheen of light, and the background shook around the two in the portrait. Katrina's clutch on Salazar tightened, unaware of what exactly was happening. Salazar, on the other hand, was completely calm, though he did start speaking rapidly to Tom.
"You are my heir, Tom, and there are things that you must be aware of. There is a legend, or so they believe, that is fact. Inside this school there is a chamber –" He didn't get a chance to get the rest of it out. The portrait disappeared with a loud CRACK! and the hall was empty. Not even Katrina was in her portrait, though Tom did wait for a few minutes. Admitting finally that she wasn't going to turn up any time soon, the Slytherin headed off to dinner.
Friday afternoon found the Slytherin and Gryffindor first years once more together in DADA. The Slytherin boys, with Blythe, had arrived first to find all of the desks pushed to one side, the center of the floor left clear of any objects that might get in ones way. Tom had shot a questioning glance towards Professor Vitale, but he merely smiled and waited for the rest of the class to trickle in.
"Because of Tuesday's catastrophe," Professor Vitale began, "I have decided that this particular class of mine needs some practical lessons. So I will be holding what you may consider a year-long contest. This contest will be every man for himself, with benefits going to the winner's house.
"The way this will work is simple: every class you will come in here and pair up with one of your classmates. You may keep the same partner or switch around, I do not care. During class you will be researching and practicing the spells you think you will use in the contest. You will have homework during this time, make no mistake. It will be written on the board and you are to hand it in the next class period. Is this understood?"
The class murmured their assent.
"Good. Today we are going to have a bit of a practice round. When I call your name you are to step forward and face your opponent. I will count to three, and then you will begin. Up first are…Ashcroft and Will."
Blythe stepped forward and into the center of the cleared-out classroom, wand held loosely in her right hand. From the group of Gryffindors came Joshua, the boy that'd started making comments during the first DADA class. He smirked at Blythe as he stepped towards her, and she sneered right back at him. The two took up positions opposite each other, wands extended in the customary dueling stance, looking to Professor Vitale for instruction.
"On three, ready?"
They nodded.
"One."
Blythe and Josh locked gazes.
"Two."
They raised their wands slightly, taking aim.
"Three!"
"Rictusempra!" Josh shouted. A flash of blue sparks shot from the end of his wand towards Blythe.
"Protego!" The air in front of Blythe seemed to become solid with her spell, and the sparks rebounded upon Josh. He clutched his stomach as he fell to the ground, rolling around in laughter. He sputtered, but could not talk around it.
"Engorgio!" Blythe cried, wand pointed at her opponent's face. His nose started to swell, laughter becoming more nasal-like as he clutched at his sides. His eyes widened as his vision became half-blocked by his huge nose, weighing his head down.
He tried to shoot a hex at her despite the swollen nose and unstoppable laughter, but only managed to produce a flow of bubbles from the tip of his wand. Blythe smirked down at him as the rest of the Slytherins hooted in mirth, and even a few of the Gryffindors were hard-pressed to conceal their sniggering. She caught sight of Professor Vitale hiding a smile, and decided to end it.
"Expelliarmus!" Josh was knocked a few feet backwards by her spell, and his wand shot through the air. Blythe jumped up to catch it, spinning it through her fingers as her housemates cheered.
"I declare Miss Ashcroft the winner! Ten points to Slytherin!" Professor Vitale called over the din. Housemates swarming her and patting her on the back, Blythe had to literally shove them to the side to get through to Josh. He'd stopped laughing – Professor Vitale had probably ended the spell – and was climbing shakily to his feet as the Slytherin approached him, hand extended. He stared at her, hardly managing to hide his contempt as he fought to hold his head up, still weighed down by the giant nose.
"Good practice round," Blythe said, dropping her hand back to her side when he made his feelings on the matter known. "Here's your wand," she offered after a moment of silence, and the Gryffindor snatched it from her. With a glare around his huge honker he rejoined his fellow housemates standing near the door.
"Hey, Will!" she called after him. He turned to face her. She lifted her wand once more, and he flinched back. "Reducio." His nose returned to its normal size, but he didn't even thank her as he slunk behind Joseph and his other friend.
"You've got it coming, Ashcroft," she heard him mutter. The Slytherin rolled her eyes as she returned to her snickering housemates.
All in all, the Slytherins did much better than the Gryffindors during the duels. Tom was faced up against the Joseph Asotin kid, and managed to snag a narrow victory by using a full body bind on him. The rest of the girls from Slytherin and Gryffindor were up after Tom and Joseph, but that wasn't as interesting to watch. Unlike Blythe, they lacked the proper skills of a duelist. Dagon and his opponent had the class rolling in laughter as they summoned different objects from around the room to hit each other with. It finally ended after five straight minutes of the two sword fighting with desk legs (neither had managed to summon the entire desk) when Dagon knocked his opponent out cold. He bowed and blew kisses to the class, wrapping an arm around Blythe's waist once he'd returned to the Slytherin side of the room. They burst into a fresh round of giggles at her utterance of the word "knickers." Following the Weasley twins dueling each other was Vincent Malfoy and the boy who'd hexed him that first day, one of Asotin's buddies, Marcus Grinberg.
The girls in class seemed to draw their breath as one, almost swooning as they caught sight of him. They turned to each other and whispered behind their hands, giggling if he looked their way. Tom even caught sight of Blythe giving him the once-over, though she didn't swoon or giggle as the others did. She merely hid a smile with the ducking of her head, and turned to face Dagon.
Marcus and Vincent, standing next to each other, seemed to be almost opposites in their appearances. The Gryffindor had darkly tanned skin where Malfoy was pale, and his shortly cropped hair was dark brown in colour while Malfoy's blonde locks fell half way down his back. Even his eyes were darker than the Slytherin's, a very deep brown that resembled Tom's own almost-charcoal eyes. They were both well built for eleven-year-olds, though Marcus was an inch or two taller than his opponent.
The two shook hands and took a few steps back from each other, waiting for the count off from Professor Vitale. He reached three, and the boys jumped into action.
"Tarantallegra!" Marcus cried, while Vincent fired off a jelly-legs jinx. They were both hit, legs moving out of their control as the class cheered for their housemate. (Except for three out of the four Slytherin girls – they were cheering for Marcus. Very quietly.)
"Incarcerous!" Vincent shouted, and the ropes sprang from the tip of his wand to wrap around Marcus. But the Gryffindor wasn't giving up that easily.
"Diffindo!" The ropes around him were cut instantly, and he jumped to his feet, throwing off the jelly-legs jinx. "Incendio!"
Vincent's robes caught on fire, and he screamed. He ran around in a panic, dropping his wand in his confusion and looking for water.
"Accio wand!" Marcus caught Vincent's wand as it flew towards him, holding it in the air for Professor Vitale to see. The professor nodded his acknowledgement of the Gryffindor's victory, and Blythe stepped forward. She shot a jet of water from her wand to put out the fire on her friend's robes, and turned to Marcus with her hand extended, palm up. Vincent's wand was placed in her hand by the grinning Gryffindor, and with a curt nod she returned to her group of Slytherins, handing the wand back to its owner as her room mates rushed past her to swarm around the Gryffindor victor.
"It's okay, Vince," Dagon was saying as Blythe joined them. "You'll get him next time."
"Yeah," Tom agreed.
"Unless he gets you first," one of the Weasleys chimed in. The brothers snickered, but no one stood up for Vincent. The bell rang a moment later, and the class filed out, heading down to dinner.
Blythe lagged behind her fellow Slytherins, lost in thought, and they had rounded the corner by the time she was hit with a trip jinx from behind. She growled at the offender as he passed her, Joshua sticking his tongue out at her and blowing a raspberry.
"Immature prat," Blythe muttered as she scrambled to her feet, no real damage done to her person. She sighed as she saw her broken ink bottle, sheaves of parchment soaked in the black liquid. Even the front of her robes had been drenched. She'd been about to fix the mess when a voice behind her spoke.
"Reparo." The bottle was instantly whole again, filled with the ink that hadn't managed to soak her papers. "Scourgify." The rest of the spilt ink was wiped clean from Blythe's things, and even the Slytherin crest on her robe was sparkling. She turned to see Marcus behind her, sliding his wand back into his pocket.
"Where'd your fan club go?" Blythe asked with a smirk.
"I sent them off to get me a Dragon Egg Shake," he responded without a beat of hesitation. A Dragon Egg Shake was one of the drinks that the older, richer wizarding families had when they went out, just to show off their wealth. It wasn't actually made with dragons' eggs, rather dragon milk, but the first time it was made someone had dropped in a large piece of shell, and the name had stuck.
Blythe was surprised by his attempt at humor, and chuckled softly.
"I'm sure they'd go to the far corners of the Earth to get it for you," she retorted as they started walking down the hall.
"Are you making fun?" Marcus asked in mock outrage. "Well! I never!" They broke into a fit of laughter.
"I just wanted to say you did a great job today during the practice rounds," Marcus said as they reached the stairway.
"For a girl?" Blythe asked skeptically.
"No, for anyone. That was a really impressive shield charm you used against Joshua. I didn't know anyone in our year could do that, let alone make it powerful enough to keep from shattering."
"Oh. Thanks. You did great against Vincent, too," Blythe said after a moment.
"Thanks, Blythe." Marcus grinned again, and Blythe got the impression it was something he was always doing. "I get the feeling that you and I will be the last two standing if Professor Vitale arranges this in the elimination method like I assume he's going to. So…I was thinking…" he paused.
"Yes?" Blythe prompted.
"Well, since there are nine Slytherins and seven Gryffindors, one of each is obviously going to have to pair up together. Do you want to spare our housemates that horrible fate and work together?" he asked it so nonchalantly, and with that perfect combination of light teasing, that Blythe was stunned for a moment. She'd naturally assumed she'd be working with Tom or Dagon, but now that he mentioned it she wasn't too sure. His logic made sense anyway, and if she decided she didn't like him she could always find a new partner. It wasn't like partners for DADA was life or death.
"Sure," she agreed.
"Great!" Marcus enthused. They'd reached the last flight of stairs going down to the Great Hall, and he grabbed the sleeve of her robe to stop her.
"Watch this." Hopping onto the marble banister, he pushed himself off with one hand and slid all the way down, landing on his feet and looking back to Blythe.
"You try!" he called up to her.
"I'm not so sure that's a good idea…" she began. "What if I fall?"
"I won't let you. Oh, c'mon, live a little," he cajoled. She gave in.
"If I split my skull open you're going to be in big trouble," she mock threatened, clambering onto the hand rail as he'd done. She pushed herself off, eyes squeezing shut as she slid down the rail, hardly containing the urge to squeal in delight. The wind she created whipped her dark locks from her face, and she peeled her eyes open to watch the ground loom every closer. It came towards her faster and faster, and finally…
A pair of arms wrapped around her small frame before she hit the ground, spinning her around once or twice before she was set on her feet. She tilted her head back to look at the taller Gryffindor, and they smiled at each other, heading for the Great Hall.
"That was amazing!" Blythe exclaimed as he pushed the doors open. "Thanks, Marcus."
"Oh, please, call me Mark," he corrected.
"Mark, then. See you in DADA."
One last grin, and the two went their separate ways.