Chapter 35 – Finished
Lizzie spent a great deal of time in the library for a couple of weeks brainstorming ways to get Slughorn to give her the original memory.
She, Hermione, and Ginny all attended a post-holiday Slug Club dinner and Lizzie took the opportunity to take Tom's lead and linger back after her peers left. She scanned Slughorn's famous shelf for Riddle or his members of his original clan but saw none of them displayed in the mix. This eased some tension, at least he didn't idolize death eaters, or perhaps to ashamed to admit he ever did.
Her mother was on display in front and Lizzie picked up the frame. It wasn't uncommon for her to imagine what she would talk to her parents about if they were alive. Lizzie often imagined her dad would try to make it to final quidditch game every season if not more, and that they'd practice together at home if they had the means, maybe go to the league games regularly if she wasn't in school. She imagined they'd sit around playing cards with Remus and Sirius and would host Christmas holidays. She imagined her dad would have grilled a boy like Cedric and instilled a fear for his life if he ever hurt her, but would also quietly approve because they'd get along perfectly. Seamus was hard not to like, but Cedric would have reminded him of himself, or so everyone who knew her dad always said.
Lizzie imaged staying up with her mother chatting about school, writing her letters about her studies, or playing piano and singing together in the living room... She would have loved Hermione and the Weasleys, but Hermione particularly would no doubt stay for a week out of the summer so Lily could catch up on everything missed in the muggle world. She thought about how they would certainly joke about Slughorn and his quirkiness. They would cook and eat together, wear down their favorite records, and drive her dad mad when he would inevitably call Lizzie, Lily, and Lily, Lizzie. Much like Molly often rattled off her boys' names incoherently until she landed on the right one. They were young, they'd be her best friends. She didn't expect there would be much reprimand from her dad for trouble caused considering his reputation, then again if she wasn't the bloody girl who lived the trouble would scarcely find her anyway.
Lizzie smiled at the thought of dancing with her dad at her wedding, and watching her mum sing her future kids to sleep. But imagining this made her grow increasingly sad at the harsh reality that not only would that never happen, but that she might not live to marry or have children anyway. Something in her was longing for a future where she could at least build the kind of family she lost, marry, have at least one child she wouldn't spoil or mistreat and love unconditionally. Ron and Hermione would be godparents, them and Ginny would be around for every milestone like Remus and Sirius always planned to be. She thought about how beautiful an exceptionally ordinary life would be after a lifetime so far of relentless trauma and loss... and all of it seemed as likely as Voldemort deciding to destroy his own horcruxes and hang himself from an elder tree. Laughable, she thought.
Lizzie set down the frame and she startled slightly when she sensed Slughorn staring at her.
"I'm sorry, dear, I just wanted to give you a moment," he said apologetically.
"No, thank you, sir... I get a little lost in melancholy with them sometimes, I'm sorry," Lizzie said.
"Can I get you anything?" He asked, pointing to a line of drinks.
"Anything but brandy or red wine," she laughed. He poured a small amount of whiskey in a glass for her.
"May I ask about the aversion?" He asked. "It's odd for the smell to be so strong it's an anecdote," he chuckled lightly.
"Its just the smell... the wine the taste. I like white wine. Red makes me feel ill immediately. My uncle... always smelled like brandy... not quite a drunkard but always had a considerable amount after dinner," she explained. Slughorn nodded nervously and regretted he asked.
"Sir, I was wondering if I could ask you something about... Tom Riddle? I'm not trying to be invasive, I promise..." she asked.
"Alright..." he said nervously.
"As you know, I've been subjected to an unprecedented amount of dark magic over the span of my life... all of which was either directly inflicted by him, or antagonized by what he did. I'm trying to understand how he became so drawn to it to begin with," she said carefully, paying excruciatingly close attention to his thoughts and demeanor.
"Well, Lizzie darling, it's nothing he would have learned here," Slughorn said reassuringly.
"Oh, I'm not accusing, I promise," Lizzie said to diffuse his tension.
Lizzie sipped her drink and shifted in her stance while she thought of the best way to proceed. "Professor, can I... tell you something?" She asked. He nodded apprehensively.
"Four years ago… when the chamber of secrets was reopened, Ginny was possessed by an artifact the Riddle you knew as a student left behind. He had sealed a memory of himself at that age in his diary, and used her as a vessel to reopen the Chamber. Her brother and I found it and went down to the chamber to save her. The Tom Riddle I met down there was using the life from her body to regenerate himself. He told me that we both reminded him of someone...at the time I didn't realize who he was. Nor did he me entirely... that version of him didn't know how he fell. He explained that he would soon become him," she explained.
"He was experimenting in dark magic at that age is what I'm trying to get at... he had motives and an outlet. He chose me to fulfill a prophecy about his downfall. Chose me twice through two sets of consciousness. Everything has been deliberate on his part. My life has been dictated by events and influences in his...I haven't been able to shake curiosity as to why..." she continued. Slughorn didn't say anything, but narrowed in his eyes attentively.
"Did you know Myrtle Warren?" Lizzie asked.
"She was... a student... the one who died when the chamber was opened. I didn't teach her," he explained.
"In catholic school her niece was my best friend," Lizzie said.
"Small world," he smiled weakly.
"No... it isn't," Lizzie said sadly. "She died too."
"Like I said, my life has been heavily manipulated by him in more ways than I'll ever be able to fully understand. It's almost like, well it's almost as though everything I've been through has been a sort of condemnation of things he's done. From what I have been able to uncover, it's almost as though my life and hardships are reparation for his actions. I'm trying to understand his motives. It seems to me his spirit and soul live on outside of his vessel. I encountered what was left of him three times before he returned to his body two years ago. I worry he's not... well that he's not exactly mortal... and was wondering if you had any insight," Lizzie explained.
"I taught him... Potions... Lizzie. He was a highly intelligent student. Girl like you he would have sought after I'm sure, he was drawn to talent," Slughorn said.
"He's drawn to talent he can control. He refrained from killing me last year because he wanted to control me instead. Everything and everyone has purpose to him, unless they don't in which case, they're disposed of," she responded. "Sir, did he ever express genuine interest in dark magic? I can't seem to place what he was doing at the time. I see a distinct pattern in the knowledge I have been able gather, but it doesn't seem to fall into place and he is extremely deliberate and precise about everything he does. Anything you remember?" She asked a little more desperately than she intended and caught his shift in demeanor immediately.
"Dumbledore put you up to this, didn't he?" He snapped. Lizzie took a step backward, shocked by the question.
"Didn't he?" He asked. "Lizzie, don't. No more, please go," he said with a noticeable amount of effort. She felt slightly hurt and angry by the abrasiveness considering the vulnerability she offered from the admissions, but set down her glass and grabbed her things to leave without a word. Slughorn downed his drink and rubbed his neck nervously as he retreated to his sitting area and gazed intently into the dancing hearth.
Lizzie made it back to the common room and found Seamus on the sofa alone. She sat down next to him and rubbed his knee.
"You alright?" She asked, picking up on a somber demeanor.
"Fine," he said shortly.
"You seem distant," she said.
"That's the way you prefer it isn't it?" He asked with a bitter underbelly to his tone.
"No... not the way I would ideally prefer it. I just worry..." she said unsure of how to answer.
"I get it, Lizzie," he said.
"Do you?" She asked feeling slighted. He stared back.
"Seamus... the people I was closest to were all murdered in front of me. If I poise anyone else for that their blood might as well be on my hands. Can we just enjoy what feels safer for the time being?" She pled. He seemed to ease slightly and nodded a little. Then he kissed her face with a hand on her cheek and leaned his forehead into her temple. No words, she could tell he was apprehensive and realized her arms length decision was only creating more insecurity. She squeezed his hand reassuringly but it was far from enough.
"Do you still think about Cedric?" He asked.
Lizzie gaped. "Of course I do," she whispered. He nodded and looked sad, but not angry.
"I know... I'm sorry... stupid and unnecessary question… I'm gonna turn in, Liz, good night," he whispered and leaned forward for a kiss as he stood up to leave. Lizzie sat and stared at the fire for what felt like hours lost in an incoherent onslaught of thoughts.
"Do recognize this spell?" Lizzie asked, holding up her Advanced Potions Book to show Hermione, who snatched it out of her hand to look more closely at all the scribbled notes.
They were sitting in the common room studying. Ron had his head buried and nearly asleep in his Transfigurations book, he was a notable distance from Hermione who was reading on the couch and taking notes for Alchemy. Ginny was scribbling at the table closest them, and Lizzie was sitting on the floor between Seamus's knees with her back to the base of the couch as he read.
"No, Lizzie," Hermione said sharply. "You need to use the clean copy, I don't trust these spells or notes...you don't even know who owned this," she added harshly, and passed it back to Lizzie with a frustrated grimace on her face. Seamus grabbed the book to examine it as Lizzie frowned back down at the notes.
"Well she's best in our year at Potions so I reckon whoever owned this was an enthusiast," Seamus said looking it over curiously.
"I was always good at Potions. This just makes life easier, genius notes," Lizzie mumbled trying to grab the book back. Hermione scowled at her.
"The Half Blood Prince - property of the Half Blood Prince? Who the bloody hell is that?" Seamus laughed but it was cut short abruptly. Lizzie turned around and looked up at him to see what caused his sudden silence. He was holding a picture she'd been using as a bookmark and his jaw clenched hard. She could tell his mind was conflicted between anger and sympathy and she whipped her head back around to avert eye contact and consider what best to say.
It was a picture of her and Cedric from the World Cup, and notably one of her favorites because they looked overcome with pure joy.
Everyone in their group noticed his dramatically shifted demeanor and looked up curiously. Seamus gave her the book back without a word and got up to leave the common room.
"Where you off to?" Lizzie asked innocently. He looked back at her sadly.
"Just - you know kitchens maybe," he said grimly. Lizzie gave him a wary look and followed him out.
"Seamus, I - well I don't what to say," she said behind him as he walked briskly down the stairwells.
"It's fine Lizzie. I get it, it's fine," he said shortly.
"You get what?" She asked cautiously.
"That you're not over him, you're still in love with him," he said simply.
"Over him?" Lizzie asked, it felt like a sting through the center of her body. "You expect me to be over him?" She asked a little more incredulously than she wanted to.
At the bottom of the stairwell he turned around. "Well - no - but," he started to say.
"We didn't break up, I watched him die -" she said with a broken voice. "I'm not sure I'll ever get over that," she admitted shaking her head.
"I know that, I'm trying not be mad because of that, but I can't help but feel like," he said with a frustrated undertone and grabbed the corners of his eyes with his thumb and index finger.
"You don't need to be jealous of him, I know he's never coming back. But I can't just get over that, I loved him," she sad sadly.
"I know," he whispered but shook his head.
"I just don't like the reminder that if he were here you'd still be with him, you're still choosing him," he added with a cynical tone.
"Choosing him?" She asked. Lizzie was getting angry at the sentiment.
"I'm here because he died. He SHOULD be here...and if he was we surely would still be together. He was my best friend. You and I well... we wouldn't know any different, would we? But this is the present and he's gone and I'm not allowed to miss him without you getting upset?" She asked with tears welling. "I can excuse some jealousy, that's normal, but not like this, he's gone, and yes I miss him. I will always miss him," she added.
"Of course you're allowed to miss him, that's not what I meant. It's just... Constant comparison, when we don't get on the way you and him used to. Everyone knew you were the perfect pair. It was obvious how much he loved you. I can't even compete with a -" he said shaking his head.
"With what?" Lizzie asked already knowing his answer.
"A dead man," he whispered.
"That hurts your ego? You don't need to compete with anyone. Do you get that?" Lizzie asked but she was sounding condescending and it wasn't helping.
"Lizzie, of course I do... you're never going to be able to not think about him... that's obvious by the picture you carry," he retorted.
"I don't want to not think about him! Just like I'd never not want to think about my family. I carry that because it was one of the last times I was truly happy!" She said harshly.
"That is exactly my point!" He roared.
"You expect me to be happy just because we're together? I'm happy with you, around you, but happy overall, how could I be?" She asked reproachfully. "I'm being hunted. I'm scared. I can't recover from one loss before there's another of equal proportion. You can't expect me to count one blessing as reason to belittle the sadistic reality of everything else," she pled. "I'm trying to protect myself, to protect you..."
"Lizzie..." he said nervously. "Lizzie I don't think I can do this. I genuinely care about you, I really do. But it's too much, I'm scared too," he said, and watched her face fall apologetically. He wasn't lying, she could read from him that he was extremely conflicted about being with her, and a huge part of her agreed, but it still hurt to hear.
"Alright then," she whispered.
"Lizzie, I'm - I'm sorry, but -" he said with a broken voice. She shook her head and looked down at her feet.
"No, it's ok," she couldn't meet his face and he gave her a weak hug she didn't return. She backed away and walked off to be alone.
Over the bridge and down the path just on the edge of the forest near the owlry, Lizzie sat on the grass near the stone heart arrangement she made for Nicks and cried harder than she had in a very long time. When Seamus returned to the common room, Hermione asked about Lizzie, but immediately noticed his solemn demeanor. Ron caught eyes with Hermione but looked away awkwardly. It was an affinity they still had. Ron left abruptly up to their dormitory to talk to Seamus, and it took Hermione all but two seconds to realize where Lizzie would be.
Without looking up to see who blocked the sun, Lizzie knew it was Hermione and scooted over slightly. Hermione sat down and wrapped her arms around Lizzie's head without saying anything for a few minutes.
"Did you love him?" Hermione asked.
Lizzie thought about it but shook her head. "Not like that, but I liked being with him," she admitted. "I'm... I'm scared I won't be able to love like that again. I feel like it's not in the cards…" she said with a wave of grief.
"You will," Hermione said softly and kissed her shoulder.