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Chapter Twenty-Six—Conversations in Parseltongue
"Mr. Potter, a word with you, please?"
Professor Dumbledore was the one who asked, and who made Orion pause in packing up his books and turn to stare at Harry with an alarmed look on his face. Harry fought to keep his own face straight. Orion might brag about how subtle and clever and Slytherin-like he was, but he had a lot of obvious tells.
Harry looked at him and tilted his head towards the door of the classroom. Orion hissed as if he was a Parselmouth, not seeming aware of it, and left.
That left Harry facing Professor Dumbledore. He leaned an elbow on a desk and stared. Of course he was grateful that Professor Dumbledore had bought his books and robes and the like, but he hadn't tried to really communicate with Harry since he'd been Sorted into Slytherin.
And in the back of Harry's mind was the fact that the man had refused to believe he was a time traveler, and had refused to look at him during a year fifty years in the future and a lifetime ago.
"Yes, sir?" Harry asked, when he thought the silence had grown stifling.
Dumbledore took a breath and shook his head. "I wonder if you know what you are doing with Slytherin politics, Mr. Potter."
Harry gave him a polite smile. "It's what I'm being forced to do to survive, sir, but it's not that difficult. At least I can make sure that some people Riddle is enslaving have another choice."
"Enslaving?"
"He's forcing them to do what he wants on pain of torture, sir. And he manipulates them until they feel they have no other choice, no one to turn to. Unfortunately, Professor Slughorn isn't any help. He's eating out of the palm of Riddle's hand. I'm doing what I can to mitigate that and make sure that any Slytherins in my House have a real choice."
"Those are serious accusations to make about Mr. Riddle, Mr. Potter."
"He's using Unforgivable Curses," Harry said flatly. He didn't really want to expose this, since it intruded on the privacy of Slytherins like Orion he knew would prefer to keep out of Dumbledore's orbit, but he needed someone to know in case he didn't succeed—or worse, died fighting Riddle—and who could protect them if he fell. It was pretty satisfying to watch Dumbledore's eyes widen, anyway. "He tried to use one on me. At this point, I don't think he gives a shit about the well-being of other Slytherins or even whether he gets found out."
"Mr. Potter, language," Dumbledore said, but he was obviously thinking, and it was an automatic scold.
Harry nodded as he watched Dumbledore think about it. At least someone was warned, and it was the professor in the school who most disliked Riddle. Harry was satisfied to think that Dumbledore would probably be launching an investigation of his own, and pinning Riddle down sooner rather than later.
"Is there anyone else I could question about this?" Dumbledore asked.
"Alphard Black. Riddle used the Imperius Curse on him."
At least Dumbledore looked stunned and sick at the thought of that. Harry nodded. Alphard's being younger than Riddle presumably outweighed the fact that he was a Slytherin in Dumbledore's mind.
"Thank you for bringing this to my attention, my boy," Dumbledore murmured at last, and strode back to his desk. He began writing rapidly on a parchment there, and Harry doubted it was just writing down assignments or grades.
Smiling to himself, Harry stepped out into the corridor.
Which was where he saw Riddle with his hand around Orion's throat, and his wand lifted as if he was going to curse Orion.
"Expelliarmus!"
Harry didn't even remember drawing his wand to cast the Disarming Charm. But he had, and now Riddle's wand was in his left hand and the holly wand in the other. He stared at Orion, studying him for wounds. He thought he could only see bruises on Orion's throat, but that didn't mean there couldn't be other bruises or injuries hiding under his robes.
"Are you all right?" Harry asked.
The rage inside him was volcanic, and even though Orion nodded, Harry kept staring at the bruises on his neck. The ones that had only happened because Orion was courting Harry and defending him and following him. Riddle wouldn't have any other reason to attack someone who had been "loyal" to him up to that point.
Harry turned to Riddle and hissed, "You are a fucking monster. You don't deserve your Knights. I am going to take them from you."
Riddle turned pale and hissed, "You could not do so."
"Oh, really? When I have begun the process already, and they would rather follow me than you?"
"You dare," Riddle said, and he sounded as if he was going to start shrieking like a giant bird any second. "You dare!"
"Yes, I dare," Harry said. He tossed Riddle's wand into the air, flipped it around, and caught it, never taking his eyes from Riddle. He wanted to make the wanker lash out, wanted to make him do something he couldn't come back from. His plans had built far enough that Harry thought he had no choice but to enact them, or someone would get hurt worse than Orion or Alphard had so far. "And I've been doing some reading. You and your Knights of Walpurgis, Riddle. Did you know that you could lose them to anyone who happens by and knows the rules for claiming them? Even Dumbledore could take them from you, if he knew what he was doing."
Riddle's eyes widened. His fingers had closed into a knot and tangle of knuckles. Harry smiled and continued. "And that means that you have to fight for them, if you really value them and want to keep them. I could step into your place and claim their loyalty, but I prefer the transfer to be an agreed-upon one. They are still people whose opinions matter. Do you agree to a duel tonight, in the dueling room, to hold onto them?"
Riddle said nothing. Harry wondered if he would unless he was confronted by an audience and forced to. He stepped back with his hand closed around the yew wand and let Riddle see Harry holding it as if he might break it. "Do you agree?"
"Yes, yes," Riddle said rapidly. "Midnight tonight?"
"Yes. In the dueling room?"
"Yes. Give me back my wand."
Harry threw the wand back to him and waited until he left. Then he walked back to Orion, going to touch him but hesitating. If he did have hidden injuries or bruises, then Harry didn't know where to touch him without it hurting. "Are you really all right?"
"Yes. What did you say to him?"
Harry wasn't entirely convinced by how little attention Orion seemed to pay to the question, but he knew that he probably wouldn't get Orion's attention back until he explained. "There's an old rule—idea—law—" Hell, Harry had no idea how to explain the things he'd been looking up, so he shrugged and settled for, "Rule. When someone has a group of people serving them, or supposedly serving them, like Riddle has you lot, someone else can step in and challenge them for the leadership if a certain number of conditions are met. I wanted to stay out of sight and not interfere, but…" Harry shook his head and felt the rage boiling up in him again. "I can't let him hurt people."
Orion stared at him with wide eyes, which Harry had to admit was pretty gratifying. "You were setting up those conditions?"
"Yeah." Harry exhaled and glanced at the bruise on Orion's neck again. He didn't know how he was going to make up for it, except by winning the duel with Riddle. "Sorry for letting him hurt you as much as he did. I couldn't do anything about the Cruciatus because it was hidden and I didn't see it. It has to be in front of me…" He trailed off, because Orion had still been hurt by that and probably wouldn't care about excuses. "But that was when I started researching."
"What did Dumbledore want to see you about?"
"Not that important right now," Harry said, and forced himself to do it lightly. "Come on, we only have about seven hours to figure out a way to get past the lock on Merrythought's dueling room."
"You agreed to this without knowing you could do it?"
"I agreed to this knowing you would help me."
And that distracted Orion good and proper, Harry saw, with the way that his eyes widened and he blushed. He fell into step beside Harry as they made their way towards the dueling room Professor Merrythought always kept locked, discussing how they might open it.
Harry still felt the slow fury moving inside him whenever he looked at the bruises on Orion's neck.
He was going to do something about them.
"Mr. Black. Mr. Potter. The Steward will take you back."
The Wizengamot member who speaks to them isn't one Orion knows, a tall blonde witch with thick dragonhide gloves on her hands as if she's just come from brewing a particularly volatile potion. A Steward, a Wizengamot guard clad in black and purple, steps forwards from leaning against the wall and bows to them.
Orion sees the way Harry tenses, and frowns a little. That's right. Harry mentioned something about being tried in front of the Wizengamot for underage magic.
That's utterly insane, Orion thinks as he follows Harry and the Steward back towards a courtroom. Why would they bring out the entire Wizengamot for something that minor? And for someone who isn't of age the way Riddle is?
Then again, Harry did mention that he had powerful enemies in his own time.
The Steward brings them to a courtroom that isn't large enough to house the entire Wizengamot, and probably isn't the one Harry was tried in, either, because he relaxes as they step inside. Orion scans the room swiftly and sees a few people he recognizes. There are ten altogether. This is probably the Inner Court of the Dark Arts, the Wizengamot members who have the most experience dealing with foul magic like Horcruxes. They'll determine if Riddle needs to go on trial before the larger body.
Riddle himself is sitting in a chair in the middle of the round floor, chained to it. He glances over at them and smiles.
Orion reaches out to put a hand on Harry's arm. Harry's muscles are flexing and bunching beneath Orion's touch. But when he starts and glances over, Orion is sure that he's made an impression, at least.
Calm, Orion mouths.
Harry nods, but his gaze goes to Orion's neck as if remembering the bruises Riddle once put there. For himself, Orion is hard put to keep his gaze away from Harry's lightning bolt scar. But he forces his attention to Riddle. The last thing he wants to do is reveal to their enemy that there's something strange about Harry's scar.
"Mr. Black, Mr. Potter," says a woman near the front who's the tallest Orion has ever seen, her gaze direct and her eyes so bright a grey they seem to shine like silver. "Thank you for coming so promptly. Mr. Riddle has laid on you, Mr. Black, the charge of supplying him with books that contain the information on Horcruxes.'
"I did not do so," Orion says quietly.
"Come over here and say that," Riddle snarls, and for a moment, the chains rattle as he lunges against them. The two Stewards along the back wall draw their wands and point them at him simultaneously.
"Stand down," the tall woman says, as Orion and Harry walk over and take chairs that face the far wall halfway between Riddle and the Wizengamot members, so they can look at them both at the same time. "Mr. Riddle has refused to take Veritaserum."
Of course he has, Orion thinks.
"I will not be questioned about things that are no one's business but my own," Riddle says, and the chains rattle as he settles back again. "And I know that the Blacks or the Potters, or both, would sneak agents into the questioning who would ask me things I didn't want them to know." He glares at Orion and then Harry.
"Mr. Riddle, it ill becomes someone of your genius to have such paranoid fantasies."
Orion wonders how much choice Riddle really has about that, given some of the side-effects of using magic like Horcruxes. But it's not like he's going to speak up on that matter when it would seem to confirm what Riddle accused him of.
"I'm sorry, Madam Laniss." Riddle leans back in his chair and pastes the smile on his face that affected all the professors at Hogwarts except Dumbledore. Orion is relieved to see that it doesn't seem to be working on Madam Laniss. She gazes remotely at him for a moment, then nods and turns to Orion.
"We wanted to ask if you would take the truth serum, Mr. Black."
"I'm underage," Orion says quietly. "I'll have to contact my parents and get permission."
"That can be arranged," Madam Laniss says, at the same moment that Riddle laughs and begins to speak. He seems to ignore the woman's frown in his direction.
"You really think that you could do that, Black? You think that no one would ask you questions that could reveal something you don't want them to know?" His eyes dart towards Harry.
Orion narrows hie eyes, while his heartbeat quickens. He knows as well as Riddle does that that sort of thing happens. Oh, it's not supposed to happen, but it does, and of course the answers that get revealed from a random question have an impact on the decisions the Wizengamot makes, whether or not they should.
"Mr. Black?"
"I will ask my parents to consent to the use of Veritaserum," Orion says, holding Riddle's eyes and feeling a distant surge of surprise at his own courage, "if I can be assured that Mr. Riddle will ask me no questions."
"Now, come," Riddle says softly, his eyes glinting. "Why would you need to do that if you were innocent, Black? Am I to be deprived of an opportunity to defend myself? To ask you about the books that you gave me?"
"I didn't give you any book that had information on Horcruxes in it, Riddle!"
"Alas, an answer we can't trust without the benefit of Veritaserum," Riddle says, and shakes his head.
"It does seem suspicious that you should refuse Veritaserum if you have nothing to hide, Mr. Black," says another Wizengamot member Orion doesn't know, a tall man with dark skin and a stern frown.
"I'll thank you to remember that Orion isn't the one on trial here," Harry says loudly, and shocks them enough to make them jump. "Is he?"
"Well, no, of course not," the stern man says. "But it does seem suspicious that Mr. Black won't speak under Veritaserum. Don't you agree, Mr. Potter?"
"To me it's no more suspicious than Mr. Riddle refusing to do so."
The man nods as if Harry has made a good point. Harry winks at Orion and then turns back to Riddle, his face going blank again. "Why don't you want to speak under Veritaserum, Riddle?" he adds softly. "Of the three of us, you're the only one who's of age, and the only one who can make the decision for yourself. Why not?"
"You know exactly why," Riddle says. The laughter that was part of his voice when he was speaking to Orion is entirely gone. He's focused on Harry, and violence seems to ripple up and down his muscles.
"Oh, I suppose I do," Harry says. "Because you actually made the Horcruxes, and you're guilty as fuck."
"Mr. Potter, language!" Madam Laniss scolds.
Neither Harry nor Riddle seem to notice. Their eyes are locked on each other, and Orion wishes he could touch Harry's arm or wave a hand up and down between them. But he doesn't want to make Harry look weak in front of some of the people he will have to impress in the future, either.
"I can still write to my parents for permission to take the Veritaserum," Orion says loudly. He will have to take the chance that Riddle won't shout any questions. Or that if he says something which makes Orion confess Harry is a time traveler, no one will believe it, any more than Professor Dumbledore believed Harry. "Or Floo them. Do you have a Floo available I can use, Madam Laniss?"
"Yes, Mr. Black, we can—"
Riddle hisses something violent in Parseltongue. Orion turns around in time to see Harry turn so pale that for a second, Orion thinks he'll fall off the chair. He braces himself with his hands on the chair's arms and hisses something urgent back at Riddle.
Orion can't understand it, of course, but he doesn't like the tone of it. For the first time around Riddle, Harry sounds like he's on the defensive.
Riddle laughs and replies something. Madam Laniss is shouting for order, but everyone else ignores her, their eyes fastened on Riddle and Harry, and Orion is no exception.
Then Harry closes his eyes, shakes his head a little, and seems to calm down. He says something else in Parseltongue to Riddle, and finishes it off with a mocking little smile.
Riddle stares at Harry in silence for a moment. Orion opens his mouth to ask to be shown to the Floo.
And then a cloud of dark magic boils up from Riddle, and the chains that bind him to the chair snap. He flows to his feet as smoothly as any snake, and lunges across the distance between him and Harry.
Their magic snaps and sparks and collides, and Orion catches a glimpse of Riddle throwing Harry to the floor, his hands around Harry's throat, before a dark dome encircles both of them, hiding them from view.