Who Is the Rightful Heir?

Chapter 7

Beginning of Revenge

Salazar's POV

What am I supposed to say? My father and I lived happily ever after? I laugh. My life was still far from perfect. It was probably never going to reach the dream anyway. The dark side didn't like perfect or dreams. Isn't that just grand?

"What are we doing tonight, Father?" I asked as I put on a brand new robe that Father had handed me right when he entered my new, clean room.

"Dinner."

"But why the new robe? Another ruler joining our side?" I followed my father outside my room and down the hall. Instead of going into the large dining room though we passed its large doors and turned down another hall. "Father?"

"We're not meeting with another ruler. That will be next week, my son. No, our company will be small." My father smiled to me as he opened a door on his right.

"I see you've already arrived."

The sight wasn't nice. Standing next to the small table placed in the room was Meredith Grakshaw, the girl who had taken my place. She was wearing a simple light blue gown and pearl earrings. Where she had gotten them was beyond me.

Trying to be nice, I went over and pulled out her chair for her then pushed it in when she sat. She smiled to me as a thanks but her eyes looked like they suspected something. I just smiled back. My father also looked at me strangely, but didn't say anything. The table was silent for quite awhile.

Voldemort's POV

When Salazar helped Meredith sit, I was surprised. I never would have thought the boy would try to be nice to the girl. Maybe he was actually trying to change. But the chance that he was too small. I knew Salazar's personality… well I somewhat did. It wasn't like him to immediately change his mind about something.

"What's on the menu?" Salazar broke the silence. His stupid grin was plastered on his face.

I shook my head at him and flicked my wrist. Food overflowed on the small table that we sat at. A large goblet of Port appeared at each of our places. A quick look into Meredith's eyes showed disgust, but she slowly took a small sip of the drink. Salazar didn't seem to mind the wine any longer.

After we all finished a long silent dinner, everything disappeared but our goblets which refilled themselves. Another look of disgust quickly entered and disappeared in Meredith's eyes.

"So, why are we having this dinner?" Salazar asked as he took another long drink of his Port. He had switched his formal sitting position to a casual one. If he could have, he would have probably set his feet on the table. His stupid grin had come back to his face and didn't seem to be disappearing anytime soon.

"I don't really have any reason. Can't a Dark Lord have a little get together?"

"Umm, no." Salazar answered seriously, but his grin was still there. Meredith was watching us talk without an expression.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to both of you about the day we defeated that groups of students. Both of you had used some sort of memory pain. This may seem like something I would never ask, but I would like to know how you both did it."

"It was easy really—" Salazar started, but I cut him off.

"Meredith will explain first. She was the one who thought of it of course." I motioned to the quiet girl. Salazar frowned and glared at the girl. Meredith fidgeted slightly in her chair. Maybe Matthew was right, the conversation could get interesting.

"Oh, but it seems like Salazar wants to speak first. Why don't you let him?" Meredith gave me a smile, but I ignored her and motioned her to tell me.

"Well, you see… all I had to do was pull an old memory of mine like I would if I was putting it into a Pensieve, but instead I put it into the girl's head. As Sherlock Holmes would say… it's elementary."

What was the girl talking about? Who was this Sherlock Holmes? Was he some sort of old friend of the girl's?

Salazar's POV

What Meredith Grakshaw was saying couldn't be true. What I did took much more than just a simple take out and put in. And then what was up with the "it's elementary" crap? Sherlock Holmes was some sad soul detective who had nothing to do but play some violin… or viola… or something… smoke a pipe and solve some mystery that didn't really need solving.

"Was that how you did it, Salazar?" My father asked me when the girl finished talking.

I shook my head. "My procedure took much more concentration. I took out some perfect memories of mine then did a few modifications to them just to make the girl go even more insane. Then, I finally placed the memories in her head with a quick customized memory charm."

Father smiled. I think he was prouder with my much more detailed explanation.

"Both of your ways are interesting. Maybe I'll use one of them in the future, who knows?" Father finished his wine and left without another word. He exit was unusual and left me and Meredith Grakshaw alone.

"So…" I spoke and slowly took a sip of my drink, which suddenly filled up again. It seemed like my father wanted us to be together alone. My eyes never left the girl.

"Why do you start a conversation when you know I will not speak to you?" She spat out at me.

I smirked to her. Apparently she didn't know Voldemort very well. He wouldn't leave us alone just to fight. There was a reason for his departure. The man was spying on us. I wasn't going to ruin my chances of making things better. I didn't give a crap about Meredith Grakshaw. She could ruin it for her if she wanted.

"There's no need for you to smirk when I'm speaking to you. You have no right." I watched as she tried to secretly bring her knife under the table. Nothing got past me when it came to her.

I didn't say anything, and I didn't change my smirk. It stayed there still strong. Meredith Grakshaw glared and stood. She tried the door and found it locked. I was right. Father was testing us.

"The door's locked. Why's the door locked?" Meredith Grakshaw complained as she tried multiple unlocking spells, none working.

I stayed silent. Why should I help? It was funny watching the girl struggle. Wasn't it obvious to her? Why couldn't she understand?

Finally, Meredith Grakshaw came at me. It was about time. Her knife was held high and her hand grasped it tightly in her fist. Red started to fill her face as her anger grew. I wanted to laugh, but I couldn't. Sure it was funny, but she was more of a disturbing looking girl. The humor disappeared when you saw her face. It was a bummer.

"What are you doing?" I asked her like I didn't have a clue. It only riled her up more.

She came up to my face and the anger disappeared from her as fast as a mouse disappears from a muggle without a mousetrap. Then, slowly, a smile crept onto her face. It was large and menacing and completely annoying.

"This." It was all she said before she stabbed herself in the side. So much force was put into the thrust, you wanted to wonder if she knew she was stabbing herself. Most people wouldn't stab themselves hard, they'd have enough pressure to do it quick, but the girl practically tore into herself. What was she trying to do?

Voldemort's POV

Was the girl mental? She had just plunged a knife into her side. Blood was pooling to the floor as she collapsed to the floor. Salazar looked completely and utterly shocked. Both of us were. At first it seemed she was going to try and stab him, but herself? If she was trying to blame Salazar for hurting her, that would be impossible. He had memories and she wouldn't be quick enough to fix her own.

"Meredith Grakshaw!" I yelled as I slammed open the door to the small room that Salazar and the girl were in. Salazar was still sitting in his chair. He hadn't moved an inch. Meredith was on the verge of slipping into complete unconsciousness on the floor, surrounded by her own crimson blood, the knife sticking out of her side.

"I have nothing to say, Father. Would it be alright if I go to my chambers?" Salazar asked me casually. I looked at him and nodded then turned to the girl. Meredith was still conscious enough to see that I had left Salazar leave. The smile that was on her face grew to a frown that held confusion, pain, and sadness, maybe a little bit of anger too.

"Sir?" She asked me softly.

"Yes?" I asked her like she was standing in front of me instead of lying on the floor, dying. "Would you like me to help you?"

Like she was embarrassed, she blushed then nodded. I levitated her out of the room and into another with a small, metal frame bed. The walls were all concrete and the bed had a single white sheet on it. It was ten times worse than the room Salazar first had underground. I let Meredith down on the bed.

The knife still wasn't out of her side, but with a small tug it was out as well as Meredith's screams. The noise was bliss to my ears. I dropped the knife to the ground and slowly healed the girl's room. I made sure to leave a scar; she needed something to remind her.

I left the room without speaking to her and put up necessary wards to keep her in. Then I walked down the hall, twirling her wand in my hand.

Salazar's POV

What Meredith Grakshaw had done was priceless. Even though she seemed so perfectly…well, perfect, Meredith Grakshaw didn't realize the most obvious. If Father usually never left the two of us, how could she think that nothing was going on? Sure, she'd been living with us for only about four months, but if she was so smart then why did she make the error?

"I am sorry, my son." Father had walked into my room. His head was down as he walked towards me. I stood from my chair and looked at him. Before I actually realized what was happening, he took my hand and kissed it then bowed on the ground, kissing the hem of my robe. "You are the rightful heir. I know this now."

I kneeled down to my father and held up his chin with my fingers. It was almost as if I was the adult here. Father's eyes were all hazel and held warmth in them. Looking at them made the pain I'd been putting aside disappear completely. The pain I'd been trying to ignore had vanished.

"Father, do not be sorry." I helped him up and we sat across from each other in two armchairs. "Meredith Grakshaw has been a deceitful, cunning little bastard. She had both of us believing in her. Now, she is nothing."

My father smiled and leaned over to me to ruffle my long, ebony hair. I had to smile back as we reminisced about the good and bad times we had together.

Voldemort's POV

"But I've been wondering about one thing, father." Salazar said after we'd been talking for quite awhile. "During the time that I stayed at the Potter's old home, an unbearable pain was inflicted on me. I couldn't move the pain was so strong. It was worse than multiple Cruciatuses being cast on me."

"Pain. It's something we've both been living with ever since you were born. For you, since you're still so young, I believe you let the pain loose. You had been ignoring it for so long it had built up until it was able to break free."

"But, don't you get any pain? Why doesn't it hurt you?" Salazar demanded to know.

"Salazar, pain does hurt me. But, I'm so used to it now that it is a part of my life. Pain seeps through the walls that I've kept it in everyday. During any time of the day, be it during a meeting or while I'm sleeping, I'm hit with the escaped pain. I let the walls I've built slowly crumble so I can actually feel it. Yours are made of steel and inescapable until something tragic enough lets them fall until you build them again."

"Why do you want the pain? Pain is a setback. It doesn't help you accomplish anything."

I nodded. "That is true. It is why most people build those walls, so they don't have to worry about it getting in the way." I explained. "But pain keeps you from becoming insane. Too much will make you go insane, yes, but too little to none at all can make you even worse. You'll kill without thought and you won't stop killing."

"But what's wrong with that? You've always said to never think about who you're killing."

"Even I have my limits, Salazar. Yes, when you are killing, don't think about it and just do it, but doing it without thought it different. When you do it without thought, you don't think about who you're killing. You could be killing your best friend, your enemy, your mother, but you'd never know because you're killing without thought." Salazar stayed silent. He understood what I was saying. "Pain helps you stay human. It keeps you humane. It gives you your soul."

A/N: That's the seventh chapter, but don't think that it's the end. Seven chapters is too short to be a story, especially to me. Don't think I'm stopping here.

power214063: I won't reveal anything. Instead you'll just have to keep reading. It probably won't be long till I actually do explain everything though. But the exact chapter is still a mystery, even to me.

Marry Hiwatarie: Hopefully this answered you question about the pain. And yes, Meredith is a Slytherin. Only people of the Slytherin line can speak Parseltounge and as you already know, Meredith speaks the language. Matthew will probably appear in the next chapter, just to inform you, but I'm not positive yet.

TuxedoKamenLuver: So far Voldemort has made Salazar the rightful heir. Hopefully it'll stay that way, but at the moment I'm the only one who knows if it will… sorry… that sounded a bit mean… but it is true….:)

Kamorie: I'm glad you liked chapter six. It was one of my favorite ones to write that's for sure. Also, even though Salazar has first rights to his father, it doesn't mean he has first rights to the Slytherin line. Hopefully I've answered your question about Salazar's pain. I tried to explain it best I could. Finally, as you've probably already seen, I've checked out your story. I do very much like it and I hope you keep writing it. You've opened my mind to a new area of stories that maybe I'll find out I really like. Who knows?

& & …"Pain helps you stay human. It keeps you humane. It gives you your soul."… & &