Marigold saw the diary, sitting on the desk. It, too, had tendrils of power. One connected it to the boy, and the other connected it to Ginny. She fought off a gasp when she saw a tiny finger of magic reaching toward her, as well.
"It's you." Marigold said, the realization hitting her. No no no no no.
"Yes," said the boy, a grin splitting his features. "Tom Marvolo Riddle, at your service."
oOoOoOoOo
They stared at each other for a few moments, the face of the diary and the girl who lived. Marigold saw that the boy seemed to be holding Ginny's wand, the pale yew wood matching the ghostly pallor of the hand holding it.
Tom saw her glance at the wand, and held it up like a trophy. "Young Ginevra was most helpful, wouldn't you say? She even carries a wand of the same wood as my own."
"Bill!" Marigold shouted. Tom lazily flicked the wand at her, and she found herself silenced.
"Ah ah ah, Miss Potter, that won't do." The boy's sneer at her moment of weakness caused her to physically recoil. "Where is that Gryffindor courage, eh?"
She stared back at him, hate filling her eyes. She heard a dull banging on the door, and hoped that maybe Bill had heard her. Tom gave Ginny's wand another flick, and the banging stopped.
Marigold stepped forward, and found herself stopped by an invisible barrier. The desk, and thus the diary, were on her side of it, but Tom, the exit, and Ginny's wand were all on the other. The air in front of her was slightly distorted, as if she were looking through thick glass. Glass? She turned and looked at the window, only to see the same blur. There would be no escape that way.
Tom's voice drew her attention back to his side of the room. "You know, Miss Potter, I wasn't planning on taking full control of Miss Weasley until the spring, when I had had all year to absorb her magic and her soul. You've forced me to act before she was ready."
Marigold just gave him another glare.
"Ginny, of course, is fascinated by you. She wants to be you, I think." He grinned at her. "Maybe I should kill her parents, to give her a taste of your pathetic life. How do you think she'd like that, Miss Potter?"
Barrier or no, Marigold surged forward again. Tom chuckled at her rage.
"We spoke about you, all the time. How you were raised by filthy muggles to hate your gifts, how they hated you." Tom stepped closer, speaking quietly. "How they hurt you." His face took on a look of contemplation. "You know, Marigold, you and I are a lot alike."
Marigold shook her head violently, angrily. Inside, she was screaming. Inside…. HEY help me! She frantically sent her thoughts to the link.
"Yes, very similar," Tom continued. "Except that I don't have five other witches and wizards in my head. Fascinating, how you can draw on their magic and wisdom at will. Perhaps I should learn that trick, once I'm done with Miss Weasley, there."
Marigold struck the barrier with her fist, ignoring the pain that shot up her arm. HELP ME!
"Ah ah, I told you, I wanted to talk, just me and you." He sneered again. "Do you think I'd let your friends interfere? No, my dear, you are quite alone. As you always have been."
The reality of his words caught up with her. She ignored the part where he revealed that he knew about the link. She ignored that she could draw on their magic, if she only knew how. No, she focused on the silence she felt when she reached for the link.
Even in the darkest nights, huddled in the cupboard under the stairs, broken and bleeding after a romp with Dudley and his mates, even then she had never been alone. Even then, she had felt protected, guarded. She had always thought it was her brother, watching over her. Later, on the train to Hogwarts, she learned that she was right three times over, with a sister in the mix to boot.
Tom had taken that away.
Tom had broken the link.
In a moment of fury, Marigold Potter screamed.
oOoOoOoOo
Bill Weasley had heard the shout of his name, and had scrambled up the stairs to Ginny's room. Something had gone wrong, he thought. The sudden silence from the room, coupled with the locking charm on the door, confirmed his guess.
Ginny and Marigold were in trouble, and he could not help.
The family clock was chiming as he returned to the kitchen. Ginny's hand, as well as his own, both pointed at "Mortal Danger". Bill stared at that for a moment, frozen. As he stood there, Ginny's hand popped slightly, loosening.
Preparing to fall off of the clock.
Bill's eyes grew wide. No, not today.
His brothers were out at the quidditch pitch - and what would they be able to do, anyway? If there was danger, Mom would never forgive him for bringing them closer to it. Would Gringotts come and help? Possibly - but not without knowing what they were walking into.
He got to the fireplace, and quickly called his father's office. Mister Weasley said he would be right there, but that Bill should call Dumbledore. Especially with Marigold involved, Dumbledore would know what to do.
Taking another pinch of floo powder, Bill tossed it into the fireplace. "Hogwarts Headmaster's Office!" he shouted.
oOoOoOoOo
Fawkes lazily turned as the fireplace in the Headmaster's office turned green.
"Headmaster, it's Bill Weasley. We need you at the Burrow - something has attacked Ginny and Marigold! Please come quick!" The voice was panicked, as one might expect.
The Sorting Hat, sitting on its shelf, grumbled at the noise. "He's not here, boy!" the hat shouted. Fawkes never found out whether the boy in the fireplace heard what the hat had said - for at that moment, an ear-shattering scream came through the fireplace. With an angry puff, the flames went red again.
Fawkes looked at the hat. The creases in the hat seemed to deepen, the closest it could come to a look of worry.
Stretching its wings, Fawkes flew across the room. The phoenix did not notice one of the headmasters race out of their portrait.
oOoOoOoOo
"Lord Black!"
Sirius Black looked up from his book, and saw an old wizard race into one of the paintings in the Lord's study. It took him a moment to realize that the wizard was Phineas Nigellus Black, a former Headmaster at Hogwarts. What did the old man want now? Sirius asked himself.
oOoOoOoOo
Tom had actually stepped back a bit when Marigold broke the silencing charm.
"Feel better now?" he asked.
Marigold's glare could kill a man at ten paces, such was the hate she poured into it. "You have no idea what you've done." Her voice was quiet and cold and dripping with menace.
"I know exactly what I've done, girl." The sneer was back, though it was balanced with no small amount of anger, now. She had defied this boy, and he was angry. "I've taken the hopes and secrets of a blood traitor, and used her to give myself a new chance at life. I've used a gryffindor, from a light family, and continued Slytherin's noble work. And now, I've brought you here, I've neutralized you, and I've trapped you." Tom scoffed. "You, who they call the greatest witch in a generation, the girl-who-failed-to-die."
"Tell me, Marigold Potter, how does it feel to know that everything you are is because of your brother?"
Marigold stared at him. "What?"
He gestured at her. "You are a witch of no extraordinary talent and only a moderate amount of magic. Ginny told me how you defeated the greatest Dark Lord of them all, and as a baby to boot. I refused to believe - and now, seeing you in front of me, I know I was right. It's reassuring, you know."
She felt like she needed to play for time. "Reassuring, how?"
"Well, isn't it obvious? Your brother somehow challenged the Dark Lord, and died for his efforts. The fact that the world believes that pathetic little you could have done anything to help just shows how foolish the world is." He chuckled. "I showed them once, it seems. I'll have to do so again."
Marigold fought the impulse to laugh in his face. "You're comparing yourself to Voldemort? Now who's pathetic?"
Tom took a step forward, his face growing annoyed. "Voldemort was a greater wizard than your brother could have ever been." He sneered. "And I will be again."
As Marigold watched, Tom wrote letters in fire, suspended in the air. TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. Then, with a wave of the wand, the letters rearranged themselves.
A gasp escaped Marigold. She closed her eyes, fighting back a tear. In her hands, she felt the hot ash of Quirinus Quirrell's neck as he died. This boy, this creature, was him?
The letters floated before her, proclaiming the reality of her situation.
I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.
oOoOoOoOo
Rose and Daphne had been sitting in the parlor, reading. Daphne had worried about her friend, for Rose had seemed somewhat on edge all day. It was late afternoon, and the sky was already beginning to darken.
Daphne looked up with a start when Rose gasped. Her eyes grew wide, and she looked like she was trying to say something, but no words came out.
"Rose?"
Rose turned slowly to look at Daphne, a faraway look in her eyes.
"I, Daphne I…" Rose stammered. She walked over to the door, grabbing her cloak as she went. "I need to get some air." Daphne watched her leave, puzzled by her distress. Quietly, she asked one of the Greengrass elves to keep an eye on her friend.
Outside, Rose was furious. Where is she?
We don't know, answered Chaser. I felt a stab of pain from the link, and then it was as if Marigold disappeared.
Seeker was upset as well. Could the diary have gotten to her?
No, answered Spellforged. We'd hear it if it did. The four quickly realized that whatever Marigold was facing, she would have to do it without them. None of them had any idea what to do next.
oOoOoOoOo
"Not long now," said Tom, his hand almost toying with the yew wand.
Keep him talking, give Bill time, Marigold thought, looking from Ginny to the diary. Then she turned to Tom.
"You said something about Slytherin's noble work, what did you mean?"
Tom chuckled. "Slytherin was the greatest of the Hogwarts Four, and the most powerful. He wanted Hogwarts to be a home for British magicals, and only magicals. He believed that letting muggles come to learn magic would destroy our way of life. And he was right - the truth of his words is obvious." Tom shook his head, angrily, and began pacing. "The other founders, however, did not share his aims. They sought to take this gift and deliver it to the hands of the muggles, the blood traitors. They would give away the tools of our destruction."
"So Slytherin left a gift to the school, just before he parted ways with the traitors that ran things. He built a massive chamber underneath the school. There, he carved a statue of his face, and within it he hid a basilisk. Should it ever be necessary, the basilisk would come out and slaughter the mudbloods." The sneer returned at this point in the story. "When I found the chamber, I knew then what fate had called me to do. I had killed my first mudblood before that year was out."
Marigold kept her eyes on his. "He so feared the muggles that he would lash out to kill them, like a child?" She let out a sad chuckle, calculated to enrage the spirit before her. "The coward's path, that."
"Slytherin was more powerful than you, girl," Tom said angrily.
"Oh, maybe." She said, seeing how he was losing his calm. "But look at you, then. Gifted with power beyond any other student and you use it to kill? You're just like your hero, a coward."
Tom stepped forward. "I fear no one!"
The pieces clicked together. "You killed a muggleborn… in 1943, perhaps? That's it, it was you." Off his look of anger, she grinned. "Yes, Tom, you were afraid. Riddle is not a pure blooded name, and if it were then I seem to have ended your worthless family."
"Do not speak that name!" Sputtered Tom.
"So you're at least a half blood. But that won't do, not in Slytherin, not in the days of Grindelwald. The older slytherins would eat you alive. But if you could show them your power, show them your dedication to the cause… well." Marigold sighed. "Like I said, the coward's path. No cunning there."
"I was the true Heir, they would have respected me. They would have fallen in line."
Marigold scoffed. She was feeling stronger, as if a warmth had begin to fill her soul. "You learn that you are the heir to the strongest of the founders, and you proceed to go on a murder spree? Not even a good one, you killed a single muggleborn and that's it. Pathetic."
"I fooled them all," spat Tom. "How's that for cunning? I fooled Dumbledore. I fooled Dippet. I fooled poor dumb Hagrid."
A soft melody wove its way through the air, as if slowly penetrating the sealed room. "You stupid bastard, it took me just seven minutes to figure it out. And after today, the world will know exactly how great a coward Tom Riddle truly was." She lifted her hair, displaying her scar. "He so feared a pair of toddlers that he tried to kill them, and died painfully in the process." She brought her hand down. "A decade later, he tried to possess a professor, only to be killed on the floor of the great hall. By me. With my bare fucking hands." She stepped forward again, her anger growing once more. "And now he comes before me as a ghost, trying to frighten me, but he is the one who cowers."
Tom raised the wand, before remembering the barrier. His hand lowered again, though she can see it shaking. The boy smiled. "Say what you will. I have all the power here. You have none. And in moments, my power will be made flesh, and your friend will lose her life." Another sneer. "And then you will be all alone."
The wall behind Tom flared with a bright light, as it reflected what had to be flames from across the room. The song she had heard, deep in her soul, was now clear as crystal. "No, Tom," she said. "Haven't you been listening? I'm never alone."
She turned to see that Fawkes had appeared at the foot of Ginny's bed. Its song changed into one of mourning, as it hopped up to her chest. Where it had landed, Marigold saw the Sorting Hat.
Tom laughed. "Your life in danger, and Dumbledore sends the hat? He must be more foolish than I thought."
Marigold ignored him, as she placed the hat on her head. Help me, she thought. Surely Dumbledore had a plan?
The hat seemed to slide down her head, covering her entire face. Confused, she lifted it up, and saw that it had expanded dramatically. When the opening was wider than her arm was long, and the hat's brim looked almost painfully stretched, she felt something hard strike her hand. Grasping the object, she pulled it out of the hat.
Or, rather, she pulled the hat off if it. For the object was a round disc, maybe three feet in diameter. It was made of a heavy metal, polished to a mirror shine. The side she saw had a thick handle of red leather, intact but clearly worn with age and use. Fascinated, she turned the disc over, and saw a gleaming silver shield. The entire surface was reflective, and she could see her distorted mirror image in the metal. Two bands of thicker material crossed the disc, meeting at a small, round dome at the center.
Tom was laughing. "A relic, maybe from one of the suits of armor in the corridors? Dumbledore is mad, girl. He just killed you with his stupidity."
Marigold, meanwhile, was looking intently at Fawkes. "What do I do with this?" She asked the phoenix. In response, the majestic bird grabbed the diary off of the desk and tossed it into the middle of the floor. As her eyes tracked the diary, she felt the shield move under her hands. Looking down, she saw that the center of the shield had changed.
Where once there was a simple dome of metal, now she saw an angry-looking steel spike. Its edge looked razor sharp, its point deadly. Her eyes went from the shield to the diary.
Tom saw the look. "The diary cannot be destroyed, not like that." Marigold grinned back at him when she heard a hint of fear in his voice.
"Let's find out," she said. Grasping the shield with both hands, she drove the blade into the leather book.
Nothing happened.
Tom laughed. "See? Now Ginny will find out what happens to those who doubt my power. I will…" he paused, and his eyes grew wide with fear. The shield had been a flat disc when it struck the diary, but as he watched it began to curve down. The edge of the shield seemed to close around the diary, the metal forming a dome over it.
"No!" shouted Tom. Marigold looked up, to see the boy fall to his knees. She looked back at Ginny, and then to Tom once more, before casting her mage sight. The tendrils that connected Ginny and Tom to the diary had been severed - now, the only flow of magic was from Tom back to Ginny.
She understood, finally. "The diary, it was the conduit."
"I can still kill you, Potter!" The yew wand came up, and Marigold realized with a start that the barrier between them was gone. "Now I finish what I started!"
The hand that held the wand was shaking, however - the drain of magic had begin to slow, as Ginny had recovered most of what Tom had stolen. The boy seemed to be growing more insubstantial by the second - as Marigold watched, the yew wand dropped to the floor, having passed harmlessly through the hand that held it.
Tom Riddle's shade followed moments later, falling to the floor of Ginny's bedroom. The boy's face twisted into a pained grin. "Too late…" he said, before fading completely.
Marigold looked back at Ginny, and then sent an Alohamora at the door. "Bill!" she shouted once again, this time knowing she would be heard.
She did not hear the door open, did not see Bill and Molly enter the room. Her eyes were only on Ginny, who was laying on her bed, pale and still. Her hand was at Ginny's throat in an instant, seeking a pulse that was not there.
"Help me," Marigold prayed, not to any God, but to her family. Kneeling on the bed beside her friend, Marigold Potter began chest compressions.
oOoOoOoOo
Help me, came the girl's voice over the link.
Spellforged shot to his feet, racing out of his room and down the corridor. Entering the lounge he shared with his father, he began looking at the bookshelves that lined the wall. It has to be here, he thought. Aha!
Grabbing the book, he opened it on a nearby table. Flipping from page to page, he soon found the charm he was looking for.
Marigold, he send over the link. Are you still doing CPR?
Yes, came the tired response. Bill is doing diagnostic charms and Molly is weeping.
Alright, he replied. This is like a low-powered rennervate. Listen closely. He began telling her the incantation for the Goblin healing spell he had found. He hoped against hope that she could combine it with the muggle technique to get Ginny's heart going again.
Open palm, pulse the magic, say /Belgiseiben/. Got it. Marigold sounded as if she was running out of strength - which she may well be, between dealing with Tom and then literally keeping Ginny alive.
oOoOoOoOo
James Potter had gone straight to the Burrow from work, and was currently sitting with Arthur and Molly. Ginny, his Ginny, was resting comfortably. Bill was still at Gringotts, waiting on information about the diary. The other Weasleys were making themselves scarce, knowing when not to interfere.
Chaser had no doubt that he would get an earful from his father, when this was done.
For now, though, he stood alone outside the Burrow, listening to Spellforged and Marigold. She's not going to make it, he thought. He knew the small voice of his sister, and knew when she lost hope.
Not today.
Silently, not wanting to interrupt Spellforged, he sent his magic through the link.
oOoOoOoOo
When he had returned from the Burrow, Seeker had seemed lost in his own thoughts, and Neville Longbottom knew him well enough to not bother him about it. All he did was insist that he come to the greenhouses and help carry tools. It was a task that Seeker could do in his sleep, which was why Neville suggested it - clearly, Harry's mind was elsewhere.
He had his back to his friend when Marigold tried the Goblin healing charm. He did not see Seeker's look of discomfort when he sent magic through the link.
Neville did, however, hear the noise when his friend fell out of his chair. He must be exhausted, thought Neville, as he went over to help.
oOoOoOoOo
Spellforged felt the pulses of magic flow through the link, in that he knew they had happened. But he also knew who they had come from - and where they had gone. Rose's magic had joined Chaser's and Seeker's, though hers came accompanied by grumblings about "bloody gryffindors" or something similar.
With a smile, Spellforged added his own magic to the link.
oOoOoOoOo
For Marigold, her world now consisted of counting to thirty as she pressed her hands onto her friend's chest, and then giving her breath to her friend. And then repeating the process. The weeping mother behind her had fallen away, as had the weeping of Fawkes.
Marigold did not wonder what impact Phoenix Tears might have on Ginny's condition. She had no time for that.
On the thirtieth compression, before she breathed, Marigold placed the palms of her hands on Ginny's chest. Letting her magic pulse once more, she spoke the word Spellforged had given her. "/Belgiseiben./" She ignored Bill's reaction to the Goblin word, as she watched for any sign of life.
Nothing.
Bending down, she tilted Ginny's head back and blew air into her lungs. Then she began compressions again. One… Two… Three…
As she reached thirty again, she felt the magic from the link. It was a blend of all four of her siblings, and the rush of power startled her. Again she placed her palms on Ginny, and again she let her magic pulse - only this time it was not alone.
The magic of the five struck Ginny, who sat up with a gasping breath. Molly screamed at the sight, before wrapping her daughter in a hug.
"Mama," said a weakened Ginny. Molly's response was muffled by her weeping. Bill looked at his diagnostics, and then at Ginny, before collapsing to his knees. Fawkes began to sing a joyful song.
Marigold stepped off of the bed, giving the family some distance. She sat on the floor, her back against her own bed. Her grey eyes were fixed on the shield, still containing the diary. With a shake of her head, she chuckled to herself. The chuckle became a weak laugh, which quickly gave way to sobs. After everything, Marigold Potter closed her eyes and fought to keep herself under control.
She did not open them when she felt someone kneeling beside her, nor when their strong arms wrapping around her. "It's alright, baby girl, it's ok, let go, Mari. I'm here now." Sirius' voice was quiet and soothing, and exactly what she needed at that moment.
Marigold wrapped her arms around Sirius Black and wept.
A/N: To clarify: Yes, Marigold Potter did just pull the Shield of Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat. We will, of course, learn more about that later. Marigold was not about to examine the thing - she was in the middle of a battle - nor would she recognize such a relic, as the shield bears little resemblance to the more famous Sword.
(Afterwards, the Sorting Hat was not happy - that shit hurt. At least the bloody sword wasn't three bloody feet wide.)
The Goblin incantation here is a corruption of the German word Beleben, which Google Translate assures me means "Revive".
The CPR used here may or may not be precisely accurate - so for the love of God don't rely on fanfiction to instruct you on lifesaving techniques like that one. It's close enough to get the point across, which was the idea. Now, where did Marigold learn CPR? At the old library in Surrey, probably. When you're interested in a topic, you'll seek out anything you can find about it. More on that later, as well.
This was an emotional chapter to write. It's not going to be what some of you expected. Taking up the challenge of writing a Chamber confrontation without the Basilisk, the Sword, or the Chamber itself, was an opportunity I could not let pass. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Feedback, as always, is welcome.
