A/N: Oh my god! SHE'S FINALLY UPDATING! HOMG NOWAII! Yes, I know it's been over three months. I apologize. I was just at a crossroads in the story, so yeah, things had to be decided, sandwiches had to be eaten...you know, the usual. Anyways, next update should be coming a hell of a lot faster. Once again, thanks to all you patient people who read, and thanks to everyone who reviews/faves/alerts this story. Y'all my inspiration. I would like to give a special thank-you to Anonymous Echo who sent me an awesome review that kicked me off my butt and got me updating. They were also the person to point out to me that Fanfiction has EATEN my line breakers from previous chapters. I really should fix those, and probably will get along to doing that sometime in the near future.
Enjoy 28 pages of deliciousness!
Chapter Twenty: Chimeras and Acromantulas and Torture, Oh My!
Morgan didn't have any expectations when she first touched the Portkey, but that didn't mean she wasn't shocked and annoyed as hell when her knees sank thigh deep into wet mud upon her landing.
"Goddamn it." she scowled at the ground, promptly told it to go fuck itself, and made slow work of finding her legs in the dirt.
Water lapped at the edge of her skirt, and she realized she had been so rushed that she hadn't even thought about changing into more practical clothing. Berating herself for her stupidity, she finally rose to her feet with a sigh. Her knees were already beginning quiver, which meant that her muscle tissue was starting to corrode.
Her fingers fumbled for the miracle pills in her pocket. She pulled out two blue cylinders that felt smooth to the touch and glowed in the pre-sunset light.
I'm not scared, Morgan thought determinedly, I'm not scared of my own body. But she was. She was deteriorating slowly but surely, and there was nothing she could do about it. It wasn't like her adversary was a physical being whose ass she could try and kick.
She swallowed back her feelings of helplessness as well as the adrenaline pills.
A shudder ran through her body, causing it to shake with pent up energy as opposed to exhaustion. Everything around her came into sharp focus. It was almost as if she was truly seeing for the first time, like a child who goes through life in need of glasses and only gets them years and years later.
Morgan figured she could understand why people became so easily addicted to drugs. The forest around her was suddenly so beautiful, and the thought of it turning back to a blurred clump of green foliage was almost unbearable.
Fuck, the drugs were already messing with her mind.
Morgan sighed and glanced around her surroundings. The Portkey had landed her in the middle of a large clearing, with trees creating a semi-circle around her and the bank of the lake she rested at. Directly across the lake there was a rock face with a large hole carved out of its left side. A flash of black fabric flitted through the cave's entrance.
So apparently, that's exactly where she was supposed to be going. Wasn't she just so fucking lucky?
Not only was she expected to go through a creepy ass rock tunnel, but she had to get there first. And seeing how she never mastered apparition, well, shit, it was going to be a long walk.
Thank god she was bustling with energy. Fucking pills.
Fucking Tom Riddle.
Morgan was frozen outside the entrance to the cave, her arms crossed neatly over her chest. Her shoes were soaking wet, which was only to be expected since she had been trekking along the bank of a river.
Last minute indecision spun circles around her. The dark cavern looked foreboding, and that was putting it nicely. It had been over a half-hour since she had caught sight of Riddle stealing into the cave, and a part of her had desperately hoped that by the time she reached the entrance he would have already retrieved the necklace and be on his way out.
But of course that wasn't the case.
It was probably dangerous in there. Really dangerous. She was a terrible witch, and even with the pills she doubted she would stand a chance against the obstacles she had a feeling would be thrown her way.
But really, there was no guarantee that Tom would leave the cave the same way he went in, and that meant that waiting for him outside was out of the question.
Darkness was falling, and the surrounding forest was no safe place to be. Morgan couldn't apparate back to the Leaky Cauldron. Her only chance of getting home was through Riddle. And her only way of finding Riddle was going through the cave.
Damn.
She really would have to go in there.
Sighing, Morgan set her shoulders back. Here goes nothing.
The muddy bank of the river gradually gave way to solid stone as she approached the entrance, and the temperature around her grew distinctly cooler. The stretching walls of the cavern were jagged and rough, and she heard the telltale signs of running water further in.
Morgan pulled out her wand and illuminated her surroundings, giving them a cursory glance before happily deducing that she was alone. Some part of her still worried that she would come face-to-face with Grindelwald's men.
So, nothing too bad so far. Kind of really anticlimactic.
Morgan inhaled deeply and exhaled suddenly. There, up ahead, a wall of solid ragged stone stood, effectively sealing off the rest of the cave. There weren't any side tunnels to explore either, so that meant she had to find a way around or through the imposing slab of stone.
"Oh," she grumbled, "awesome." Morgan held her wand lightly in front of her, stepping closer to the obstacle and studying it in more depth. Something in her stomach plummeted to her feet as she spied a ragged edge of the wall covered in blood.
Drawing a finger along the stone, Morgan found that whosever blood that was, it had been spilled recently. It was still wet, and slightly warmer than the air around her. There wasn't any other blood around, not on the floor or the other walls of rock enclosing her. So that meant someone had deliberately cut themselves and spread their blood on the rock.
Why?
Worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, Morgan determinedly ran her wand along the stone, while muttering a quick revealing spell meant to repel basic illusions. It was probably one of the earliest spells she had mastered, mostly because she had relied on it so much during her first year at Hogwarts. Notes, with their true content hidden under a simple illusion, were passed throughout class. The revealing spell washed away the fake content and showed the reader the actual message.
It had worked pretty damn well up until third year, when most of the teachers wised up to the hoax (though Morgan had a theory that they had always known about the notes, but just didn't give two shits about what the fuck was going around in their first and second year classes).
She hadn't used the spell since then, so she had to admit when the vision of jagged rock melted away into the image of a door, she was rather surprised.
"Cool." She grinned at her success.
The door was made of granite, a smooth and speckled stone that sparkled enchantingly under the light from Morgan's wand. There were no handles to be seen on the surface, only a hole in its center and a single straight line carved up the middle of it, cutting the hole in half. In cursive script above the strange hole it read:
"Lo though who enter
Sacrifice is called"
"What a fucking horror movie," Morgan growled, getting a good idea where the blood came from now. She had serious issues with putting any part of her body into that opening. Her mind flashed back to a movie she once watched, where the male lead was faced with a similar situation. The guy got his fucking arm cut off.
"Calm down," she whispered to herself, brushing stray hair away from her face. "It's not like there's an arm laying on the ground or anything. There was barely any blood on the rock. It'll be fine, just put your hand in there and keep moving. C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!"
With a battle cry something akin to a mouse's indignant squeaks of terror, Morgan shoved her free hand into the opening in the door. Immediately, something smooth and sharp slid from the very tip of her middle finger to the bottom slope of her palm.
"Ouch," she muttered.
Bright red blood shot out the top and bottom of the hole, spreading along the line carved through the middle of the door. It creaked ominously, and suddenly the granite began to split.
Morgan withdrew her hand quickly, watching with bated breath as the rock was slowly dragged apart and swallowed by the left and right walls of the cave. Morgan slipped through the opening as soon as there was enough room to do so, clutching her injured hand to her chest and her wand between her teeth.
God, she just wanted to get out of here fast.
Morgan froze, her eyes darting around the cavernous hall she found herself in. It was shaped like a dome, had an extremely high ceiling, and was lined with torches.
None of those details were what caused her to freeze though. Rather, it was the sight of the disgruntled wizard twenty or so feet in front of her, guarding a darkened doorway.
"Who the bloody hell are you?"
The wizard was in his mid-thirties at least, bald, with a crooked nose and wide eyes. To his merit, he didn't look totally perturbed by her appearance, merely curious.
"Oh," Morgan remarked around her wand, "this isn't Best Buy."
"What the hell is Best Buy?"
"Not this," Morgan retrieved her wand from her mouth and let her bleeding hand fall limply to her side. "So I guess I'll just be leaving now. Have fun doing, err, whatever it is you're doing," she smiled charmingly and slowly took measured steps backwards.
"Do you think I'm fucking stupid?" The man withdrew his wand and kept it thrust in her direction.
Oh no.
"I made no such assumptions about your intelligence," Morgan defended weakly, still backtracking.
"Stop."
"Well, if you insist."
The man stalked towards her until there was a mere foot separating them. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" Dark eyes probed hers seriously, and Morgan felt his curiosity melt into something infinitely more dangerous.
It was time to put an age old ingenious escape plan to good use.
"Holy hell! What the shit is that!" she pointed a finger behind the wizard.
Some serious stuff must really be going down that tunnel, for the man actually turned his head around expectantly. Morgan took advantage accordingly.
"Expelliarmus!"
The red light shot from her wand and slammed into the wizard's elbow. His wand sailed from his hands in an elegant arc and he spun around to face her. Narrowed eyes burned holes into her head, "Goddamn it."
"That's not very nice," Morgan muttered, but the words died in her throat as the man launched at her. His body slammed into hers, pushing them into the rigged walls of the cavern. Morgan let out a sharp cry of pain as the pointed edges of rock tugged and pulled at her skin.
Desperately, she wrenched her arm upwards, a spell already on her tongue—
A crushing force gripped her wrist and smashed it against the wall. Her fingers automatically loosening, her eyes watering from the pain, she cried, twisting away from him, away, away, away!
His body anchored hers to the wall—her legs in-between his knees, impossible to dislodge, his shoulder pushing against her injured arm. He yanked back her wand hand…
…again it was forced into the rock. And oh god, this time something cracked, and pain was blooming before her eyes and all she could see was his fucking awful blue robes and he was pulling his arm back again and oh shit, this was going to hurt.
Her knees crumpled with the pain of the third impact, and the tears flew freely down her cheeks. He crushed her to the wall one last time, slamming her head back before finally stepping away.
She shook like a leaf in the wind, her shoulders shuddering and her eyes blurring. It was too much, too much pain, too much awareness, too much everything. Her world was exploding in extremities, and she only vaguely registered the man turning away from her to go look for his wand.
He didn't look the slightest bit unruffled. He was so efficient, so deadly. And god was she stupid to think she could ever do this.
Her vision swam, her wand was right there at her fucking feet, but she couldn't wield it and the bastard knew it.
Her broken hand unconsciously sought refuge to her chest while the bleeding one fumbled in her pocket. The pills…she just needed the fucking pills.
The bag spilled across her legs, and all the colorful capsules went tumbling along her stomach and thighs. Which color was for pain? Which for adrenaline?
Morgan's eyes were fluttering. She was going to pass out. Which fucking pill did what? Did it even matter?
A bloodied fist gripped at the pills, and while her coordination was shot, she still managed to grab four different sized cylinders, along with some pebbles. The fist slammed into her mouth and she desperately swallowed. Blood, dirt, magic—it all flew through her system and she gaped helplessly.
Her vision spiked, her heart sped up, the pain in her hands melted away, but it was too much happening too fast! Her breath came in short raspy pants, her mind fumbled with a single coordinated thought, and fuck—was someone touching her?
She hadn't realized her eyes were closed until someone was peeling them open.
A light flashing in front of her irises sent her mind into a frenzy of painful sensations.
"—a drug addict," someone was muttering. Cool hands were everywhere, roughly pushing her hair away and smoothing against her hot forehead. They drifted to her torso, experimentally pushing under her heart and fuck did that hurt!
A strangled gasp flew from her lips, and she arched away from the hands. She couldn't think straight!
A hand flew to her wrist.
"Adrenaline drug," the voice said again, taking note of her increased heart rate. He shifted slightly to avoid the broken hand that darted forward to push him away. "Pain drug too." The man sighed unhappily and gazed at the pathetic girl collapsed before him. Whoever she was, she was extremely stupid.
At least ten pills littered the ground beside her body. What was she thinking, shoving those drugs down her mouth? She could go into cardiac arrest in seconds. It wasn't his problem, hell no it wasn't, but damn it she was just a kid.
Looked a lot like his daughter.
Damn it.
He pulled his wand out. He could detoxify her body. She'd be in a hell of a lot of pain afterwards, but it was better than having her foaming at the mouth. He rubbed the edge of his wand against his temple, an age-old habit he'd inherited from his old man, and grudgingly muttered the spell.
He knew it was working when she yelled out in pain again, thrashing along the ground and crying. He narrowed his eyes in concentration, it was taking a lot longer than he thought, and…what the fuck was that?
His eyes flew open and the girl cried out, her hands flying to her stomach as she keeled over and vomited the toxins from her system. Her eyes were still leaking tears.
There was something wrong, he thought, something terribly wrong with her. When he let his magic run through her body he had felt it…felt it what? Dissolving? The tissues making up her organs were so thin, as if they had been eaten away. And there! While watching her expel the contents of her stomach, he noticed pockets of blood coming up along with the pills.
"What the hell is happening to you?" he thought aloud, and not without a little apprehensive fear and disgust.
The girl's body contracted once more, and he crawled closer to her, grabbing her hair and carefully peeling it back from her face. She threw up nothing but blood this time, her whole body shuddering.
"Jesus Christ…"
That was when she twisted suddenly and her hand flew to his head. He was too slow to even have a chance of stopping the rock from driving into his left temple.
Damn it, he had left himself unguarded, just because she had been a young girl. Damn it! Such a rookie mistake.
His world faded to darkness.
Morgan was still shaking. It was impossible not to. Her whole body felt like it was caving in on itself, destroying itself.
Time is fixing its mistakes.
She would laugh if it didn't hurt so badly.
It was only through pure will power that she was able to move from her crumpled position on the floor, shuffling her knees along until she was right beside the man that had inadvertently saved her life. She gave him a thankful pat on his unconscious head. "Sorry about that," she rasped, because her throat was still raw from screaming and her body was still spewing blood from her mouth.
Her death was nearer than ever. She could feel it in her very bones (funnily enough, she figured that they were the only thing that didn't hurt. But that was probably because they would be the last things to dissolve. Man, just look at that optimism!).
Morgan shuddered again. Her thrumming legs wouldn't be able to support her weight for a second. She was stuck like this—slowly rotting away—and there was nothing she could do about it.
Well, almost nothing.
Her eyes spied two shiny blue pills resting a few inches from her foot.
That guy had detoxified her, right? So taking those adrenaline pills wouldn't be like overdosing. All she needed was a little more strength to find Tom, and then that was it. She had no choice. Funny, how she appeared to be saying that phrase a lot lately.
She dry swallowed the bland pills and instantly felt better.
Her broken hand was still in an unbearable amount of pain, but the one that was sliced open had already begun to scab over. She would just have to hold her wand in that hand then. No big deal.
She rose to her feet, scooping up her wand awkwardly before nudging the unconscious man with her foot. She flipped him on his back and frowned unhappily when she spied his Grindelwald pin.
So he was a part of that club.
Asshole.
Her body was still undeniably weak, but it was a weakness she could work with. She just had to keep pushing herself.
Morgan wobbled to the doorway the man had been guarding before she had burst in. And oh look, there was another cheery saying etched above it:
"We dare you to enter
Nothing awaits but pain
Fear, indecision, destruction,
Will it be worth the gain?"
"It goddamn fucking better be," Morgan growled. She clumsily held her wand and set out.
Once again the only light around became that which she supplied from her wand. The tunnel she traversed grew narrower as she continued to move along it, and soon Morgan found her breath become heavy with claustrophobia. Just when she thought she could no longer brave the lack of space, the tunnel opened up again.
This time, she was in a room with four pathways. Above each new tunnel there was a symbol engraved: the crests of the four houses of Hogwarts. Morgan strolled closer to the four entryways, noticing that the rock gave way to dirt. Kneeling besides the first tunnel, the one with the Hufflepuff insignia, she saw the imprint of shoes.
So Tom had come through this way. Which meant she was going to go through this way. She supposed it could be worse; he could have gone down the Slytherin tunnel. Her mind went over the words above the first tunnel. Fear, indecision, destruction.
Fun stuff.
Morgan held her wand tightly in her sliced hand, keeping her broken one tight to her withering chest. It was getting harder to breathe, and she coughed experimentally only to spit out more blood. So that was why each breath was a challenge. Blood was continually leaking into her lungs. Ew. Morgan squeezed her eyes shut and blundered onwards.
She noticed the change in the air first—originally dry and light, it became moist and heavy. Straining her ears against the silence, she caught onto the slight sound of water slapping against rock. Morgan hurried her pace, and swarmed out into the larger chamber with a small burst of speed.
The square cavern fairly resembled a public pool—a large body of water surrounded by a deck of carpentered stone. Across the water laid another doorway, and Morgan instinctually knew that it was her target. It all seemed fairly easy and simple. All she would have to do was skirt around the edges of the lake to reach the other side.
Apprehension was fast to fester itself in the pit of her stomach. If it looked too easy, that probably meant it wasn't.
Thankfully, the area was well lit by a species of algae that grew along the cavern walls and gave off an eerie green glow. It did nothing to make the chamber look less like a watery grave, but Morgan supposed she should be lucky that she could see two feet in front of her face.
She wearily took a few nimble steps across the slippery stone, until she approached the very edge of the water. There was no gradual incline bank of any kind, unlike what one would encounter at regular a lake, rather, the body of water stayed at a constant depth around its whole perimeter.
And from the sheer darkness of the water, Morgan guessed that it was very deep indeed. Suddenly, she got the feeling that she wouldn't be enjoying swimming anytime soon.
Morgan slotted her wand into her mouth, using her cut hand to keep her anchored to the cave's walls when she began her journey. The rocks were just as jagged and rough as they were in the previous cavern, so it wasn't necessarily hard to keep a good grip on the stone, but progress was still slow. The ledge of rock she traveled on was slippery, and more than once she thought she would simply slip and float down to the bottom of the goddamn lake.
Of course, that was assuming there weren't any nasty creatures in the water waiting to tear her to pieces.
Despite everything, Morgan was getting by fairly easy, which should have been her first indicator that shit was about to hit the fan because in all honestly, nothing has ever gone well for her.
Morgan knew something was wrong when she felt the algae trembling under her seeking fingers. It was all the warning she got before a shapeless black mass melted forth from it and reached for her with open arms.
It swallowed her in seconds.
She was in Hogwarts library, though she wasn't sure in what time. The Restricted Section didn't have a fence surrounding its perimeter which should have meant she was in 1944, but then why were the new wooden tables slotted along the back wall?
Morgan began worrying her bottom lip between her teeth in confusion when someone slipped an arm over her shoulder.
She spun to the left, looking to deck whoever was touching her, when she saw it was Tom. He was wearing his Hogwarts robes with a Head Boy badge stapled next to the Slytherin insignia and he was watching her strangely.
Well, maybe it was only strange because he was smiling.
His lips were tweaked upwards at the corners, and his hair was combed back, but not as neatly as usual. Dark eyes were crinkled slightly at their corners and a pale hand tugged on a stray piece of her hair.
That was the moment Morgan realized Tom was breathtaking, more so than ever before, because he was actually happy.
"Tom…?"
"You weren't listening to a thing I said, were you? You're always so helplessly lost in your head."
Morgan paused, took a breath, blinked, blinked again, and then asked, "Are you happy?"
Her companion looked mildly amused by her statement, and turned towards her more fully. One patronizing eyebrow rose and Tom wondered aloud why she was asking such a simpleminded question, one she already knew the answer to, no less.
"So…you are happy? But why?"
"You make me happy."
Morgan doubled over from sheer shock and Tom was immediately at her side, brushing hair back and whispering frightfully in her ear. Was she okay? Did he say something wrong?
He had just begun to pull her flush against him, still continuing his ministrations, when a voice interrupted them.
"Get away from her! Morgan, thank god!"
Morgan froze, her heart stuttering as she registered that someone was addressing her by her real name as opposed to 'Hume'. The voice was gruff, and vaguely familiar, and when she turned her head from Tom's robes she found Harry Potter near the entrance of the library.
He looked a right mess. With glasses askew, dark hair matted with blood, and swollen knuckles, he appeared to have fought his way to hell and back. His green eyes flashed with murderous intent.
"Morgan," he reached a hand towards her, "come on! Come with us. I need to kill him now."
Tom's eyes narrowed at the sight of Harry's raised wand and he instantly shifted Morgan into his arms. They drew around her, attaching her to his chest in a way that was protective, but not strategically correct.
"Harry Potter," Tom sneered, "I really don't know why you're here, but it would be better if you left."
Harry gave a hollow laugh. "I'm here to kill you, and save Morgan while I'm at it."
"Save her?" Tom actually looked affronted, "from who, exactly? Me? I would never hurt her. She's important to me."
Harry's eyes grew darker, "I don't need you to release her. I've got a clear enough shot from here. One killing curse and you're done. That is assuming, of course, that you don't make Morgan forfeit her life to save yours."
Turmoil raced through Tom's eyes, and all Morgan could think was why the hell he didn't draw his wand. But even that was pushed from her mind when Harry's lips began reciting the one curse you were guaranteed to never recover from.
"Wait!" she cried finally, twisting in Tom's arms so that she was facing the Boy Who Lived. "Don't, please, don't."
"What? Why?"
"Please, don't hurt Tom, you can't."
"He killed my parents, Morgan! He's killed so many people, how can you defend him!"
"Just don't!" Morgan found she had retrieved her own, and was pointing it at the supposed savior of the wizarding world. Her heart was pounding through the fabric of her shirt. "You can't hurt him. I won't let you."
Harry's features twisted into something desperate and hurt and dark, "Traitor," he whispered, and then suddenly he was surrounded by the members of the DA, her old headmaster, and the faces of the dead.
"Traitor," they cried out, "traitor."
Morgan fought back her tears, and drew comfort from the sole fact that the arms holding her tightened. Tom was leaning down, burying his face into her neck and telling her they didn't matter; she was with him and he cared about her and he would protect her. His tone steadily lost its composure as he promised that anyone who wronged her would suffer, and she could watch as they all writhed in agony for their misdeeds.
"You would protect her Tom?" Dumbledore said above the din. "Even though she betrayed you too? Even though she used you to get to the Founders Necklace, and planned on leaving you alone as soon as she got her hands on it?"
Morgan's knees buckled, "No, no, please no." But the damage was already done. The arms holding her began restraining her, and pain laced its way all the way down to her heart.
"Traitor," Tom voiced, and when she turned to face him she stumbled away in surprise. His face had melted into that of Voldemort, and she went tumbling into the book shelf.
It dissolved immediately upon their collision, as did the scene. She was in front of Hogwarts then, and the world was burning around her. Before her the bodies of the dead accumulated.
Harry. Dead.
Hermione. Dead.
Ron. Dead.
Fred. Dead.
George. Dead.
Dean. Dead.
Ginny. Dead.
Hannah. Dead.
Everyone…dead.
The Dark Lord came through the walls of flame, his robes billowing behind him. He towered over her, dangerous and psychotic, and leaned his warped face down towards her own. His breath smelled of decay and death, and when he whispered in her ear his malformed mouth caressed her cheek.
"I love you," he said.
"I hate you," he said.
And then he was grabbing her, swallowing her within his arms until she was merged with him and her screams were lost.
The darkness and pain was an impenetrable wall, and Morgan thought she was dying and she couldn't remember a single thing about where she was or how she got there. All she knew was that it hurt, and she wanted to get away and anything was better than this!
She couldn't feel her body. She was a floating consciousness, not a physical being. If this was death, it was boring and painful and suck-ish, and god did she ever hurt!
And then she felt it, the tug somewhere to her left, and the darkness was beginning to fade away. Awareness was fast approaching, and Morgan realized someone was grabbing her wrist and tugging.
Her eyes flew open and she remembered. She remembered the cave, her broken wrist, the man, the blood. She remembered it all.
And it was about bloody well time too, because she was just about to be eaten by a creature that looked like an enlarged and disgruntled salamander with serious dental problems.
Morgan let out a gasp of pain around her wand, and realized just how precarious her situation was. Her sliced hand was holding onto an outcropping rock for dear life while the wrinkled sea monster, who was two times her size, had its tongue securely wrapped around her broken wrist and was slowly trying to peel here away from the wall and right into its nice little mouth.
Aw hell naw.
Adrenaline rushed through her veins, pounding in her ears as her fight or flight instincts kicked in.
Fight.
Acting fast, Morgan pulled her body back against the wall, easing the sea monster closer to the ledge before she anchored one foot against its grey head and released her grip from the rock.
The monster thrashed under her offensive strategy, and shrieked when her size seven shoe found its mark on its lidless eye. With one hand free, Morgan growled, spitting her wand from her mouth, catching it, aiming it down the monster's throat, and roaring at the top of her lungs, "REDUCTO!"
A wail not unlike a newborn child's cry shook the cavern, and suddenly the tongue grasping her broken hand fell limp, leaving Morgan without support. Her body slammed back into the wall, and with her good hand busy gripping her wand, she slipped, heading straight towards the murky depths of the water.
Her legs had already begun to sink into the lake by the time she rooted a fist into the wall. She yanked her body upwards with a strength she hadn't known she possessed, and sent sharp glances around the water.
Her original attacker was still screeching, but under the surface of the water Morgan saw its friends readily take its place.
Now, for the flight.
"Fuck!" Caution be damned, Morgan set her feet and sprinted along the narrow edge. She threw blasting curses into the water wildly, slamming her shoulder straight into the wall when one of the sea monsters rammed its body against the side of the ledge. Her shoe caught, and she flew forward, smashing into the last corner before taking off again and finally tumbling away, straight into dark entryway she had seen across the lake when first entering the cavern.
Her cry of relief was stolen from her as her feet catch again, this time on the stairs hidden in the tunnel's darkness. She fell face-first into the stone steps that led upwards, and the air was smacked right out of her.
All she could spare was a wheezing groan of annoyance—because no, it wasn't enough that she had to get chased by reptiles on steroids, but she also had to trip over her fucking feet twice—and whined at the unfairness of the situation before remembering that sea monsters were still clamoring for her blood a mere four feet away.
She paled, retrieved her wand from where it had fallen, and picked herself up, managing to climb up the first three landings of steps before collapsing. The wrist the sea monster had been sampling wasn't looking so good. The skin was actually turning grey, and bone had been jabbed through the skin. She hadn't noticed the blood when she was fleeing for her life.
Oddly, she felt no pain. She supposed the adrenaline was still wreaking havoc on her system, and decided that was probably for the better when she began throwing up blood again.
But Jesus Christ! What the fuck had happened back there? She had been taken in by a nightmare, one that played upon her deepest, darkest fears.
She was terrified that, through her feelings, she had betrayed all those she held dear. She was afraid of being unable to complete her mission. But perhaps, most importantly, she was afraid of Tom himself.
Not because of what he could necessarily do, physically, but of what he could feel. She was deathly afraid that he could actually care for her, and even more terrified that he would find out she had been playing him from the start—biding her time to get the Founders Necklace to betray him. She didn't want him to hate her either.
The illusion had dangled her hopes in front of her face. It taunted her with the possibility of making Tom happy, of her continuing to live in 1944 to slowly weasel her way into his heart, before tearing those hopes to pieces.
And it had all felt so real! At least at the time. Now that she thought about it, she knew it was ridiculous that she fell for it. Please! Tom would never admit he cared for her, Dumbledore would never be so vindictive, and Harry Potter would never use the killing curse on Voldemort. He was too much of a hero boy to do that.
The elaborate illusion had been a set-up for the sea monsters. It had weaved a new world for her senses so that the predator could defeat her without a struggle. Quite the battle plan, actually, and damn well effective. She shivered at how close she had been to that monster's mouth.
With her back resting against the wall and her lighted wand held aloft, Morgan thought back once again to the nature of the illusion. It had played off of her fears. What had that carving above the first cavern said? 'Nothing awaits but pain, fear, indecision, destruction'?
Morgan blinked back the spots flashing before her eyes. Pain, fear, indecision, destruction. Four adjectives, four tunnels. Was it possible that each adjective stood for one of the tunnels? If that was the case, then in Hufflepuff's cavern she had already faced her fears. That still left pain, indecision, and destruction.
She groaned, weakness overcoming her body and mind. She still had three caverns to go. Awesome. Really.
She bit back a scowl and continued up the flight of dark stairs, doing her best not to trip. It wasn't long before the last stair landing leveled out and she was once again facing a doorway into another cave. This time, Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw's were known for their cleverness. Morgan could only hope that what she would face in the next room wouldn't involve physical recreation. No more fighting off monsters, please and thank you.
When Morgan stepped through the darkness and into the next room, she found it brightly lit and its walls smooth. It appeared as though someone had taken the time to sandpaper the rough cavern walls until they were virtually perfect. Or rather, someone had taken the time to think of a spell that would deliver similar results.
The cave was circular this time, brightly lit by a chandelier that floated high in the ceiling. Peering in through the entryway, Morgan found a wooden table waiting, and upon it, two vials. A wooden door was imbedded in the rock directly across from where she stood. Figuring that it would better to really just get this over with, she took cautious steps into the room.
Instantly, a wall of black fire blazed a path around the perimeter of the room at the same time deadly spikes grew from the walls and doors. Gulping, Morgan quickly approached the table to find a simple piece of parchment sitting next to the vials.
Morgan grasped it, and suddenly the room started to slowly close in on her.
"Wow. Just fucking great."
She hurriedly skimmed the parchment, knowing she was on a really tight schedule now that the walls were eager to crush her and everything.
'Drink the blue vial
Survive the flames
Drink the purple vial
Receive immunity to impalement
To mix them
Is instant death'
Morgan grinned. If she hadn't known that Tom had already come through here, she might have been pulling her hair out in indecision. But since she knew for a fact that someone had come through this way, and saw that neither of the vials had been drunk from, the answer to the puzzle was logical.
Don't drink any of them. Just walk through.
And holy fuck was she going to feel like a dumbass if she was wrong, but she really didn't have any time left, seeing as the walls were a couple of feet from crushing her. Feeling slightly giddy, Morgan pocketed the two vials, closed her eyes, and ran through the flames straight to the door. Her hand slipped through sharp stalactites that were as fake as the fire and she sidled straight through to the tunnel beyond.
Torches lit the next pathway, and Morgan tried to steady her breathing and calm her heart as she walked it. The strange thing about the tunnel was that it wasn't made of rock, it was made of dirt.
Morgan pondered on this, and the fact that she had just faced the 'indecision' trial in Ravenclaw's cave, before stopping outside another door. With her broken wrist still woefully clutched to her chest, Morgan registered Gryffindor's symbol before pushing it open.
It was chaos.
Matthew had been having a good day. Great day, actually. The Founders Necklace Cave had been surprisingly easy. The sea monsters in Hufflepuff's cavern? Piece of cake. The illusions that appeared? Even easier.
His partner, Anthony, was actually turning out to be semi-competent. He had successfully deduced the source of the illusions and released them, and singlehandedly solved Ravenclaw's clever little riddle.
Oh yes, it had been a good day.
Then of course, they had entered Gryffindor's cave, and things went to hell.
With the team of six wizards they had been assigned, he and Anthony had stormed the cavern to find it well lit and spacious. It was wide across, and a rickety wooden bridge linked one wall to the other. A door was visible on the other side of the bridge, and the only slightly disconcerting fact about the room was that the bridge held them over forty feet above the very solid and hard ground.
No matter! They could take it.
And he had actually believed that, until they all began trekking along the bridge and two fucking Chimeras flew from the fucking ceiling followed by a fucking goddamn Acromantula that now balanced quite fucking gracefully on the robes holding the fucking bridge up.
It was a flurry of spells and swearing from there. Three of his men had sprinted down to the middle of the bridge, working with one of the Chimeras, while Anthony and the other three men dealt with the second creature, and he was left with the giant fucking spider.
That was about the time he decided it was time to throw in the towel, and he gave a silent good riddance to the rest of his team before trying to double back and leave through the door from whence they came.
But then his grand escape had been stopped rather effectively by the giant spider, who decided he was going to plant himself in front of said door while calling Matthew, quite calmly and clearly, a coward, before lunging for him.
And then the door was shoved open, smacking the Acromantula in the ass and pushing it closer to Matthew. A teenager girl shimmied out from behind it and froze rather theatrically.
"Well, fuck," she said elegantly, and Matthew would know that voice anywhere because he had devoted four glasses of wine to trying to get into her under-aged pants.
It was the girl from Slughorn's party, Leah Hume, and at the moment she was looked really confused and really battered.
Anthony turned from his Chimera battle at the disturbance, and when his eyes locked on Leah his mouth gaped open in an unattractive fashion. That was before, of course, the Chimera's claws pretty much ripped his arm apart.
And did Matthew mention how it was really time he left?
The Acromantula, who had said its name was Billy, darted for Matthew again, its pincers gliding through the air where his head had been seconds ago. Raising his wand, Matthew spat out a quick cutting charm, grimacing when it barely grazed one of the spider's legs and instead headed straight towards Leah.
The girl ducked just in time, glaring at him from underneath Billy and firing off a blasting charm. The eight-legged creature flew towards Matthew again, and he rolled away from it on his left shoulder.
"We have more visitors," Billy wheezed deeply, and he was suddenly turning around on flexible appendages to face Leah.
Her features crawled downwards into a frown, but the stupid kid actually waved and said hi before trying to cut the poor spider's head off.
No more pleasantries were exchanged after that.
Seeing the battle as a proper distraction, Matthew's eyes locked on the door across the bridge.
Oh yes. As long as everyone else distracted the crazy fucking Chimeras and Billy, he could definitely make it.
He took off at a sprint.
Morgan was at a disadvantage. She would be the first one to admit it. The Acromantula she was facing was three times her size, and looking at her a bit angrily. Well, she supposed she shouldn't have expected much, since she tried to cut his head off.
She slid under his reach, and long legs grazed her left arm as she pulled to the right to dodge. Taking advantage of Billy's exposed belly, Morgan shot a volley of purple flames from her wand, a curse she had copied from a Death Eater. It pretty much equaled lots of pain, and so she wasn't surprised when Billy reared back with a roar.
The large spider was still skimming backwards along the rope of the bridge when he was struck with a curse from behind, curtsey of the Chimera fighting wizard he had gotten too close to.
Bleeding profusely, Billy darted forward in a charge that was preceded by another cave-wracking scream. With her options severely limited, Morgan shoved her wand in her pocket and took a slight running start, making it seem like she was going to meet Billy halfway before sliding off the left side of the bridge.
The fingers of her good hand just barely gripped one of the wooden floorboards, stopping her descent as the Acromantula rammed himself straight into the wall of the cavern. The walls shook, the bridge shook, and Morgan's grasp shook.
And then a there was another round of cries, and a creature with three heads—one of a lion, a goat, and a dragon—a snake's tail, a bull's body, and set of strong wings, swept under her feet and snapped at her legs.
Forgoing her broken wrist for the time being (since she really didn't want to be eaten), Morgan desperately tried to heave her body back on the bridge. Her broken bones would have none of it though, and immediately her body convulsed, threatening to destroy the small grip she had.
Morgan squeezed her eyes shut, waiting to become Chimera chow, when all of a sudden it let out a wail of pain. A wizard with a mauled arm had broken away from his group, taking the time to sever one of the Chimera's head. It was quite the successful distraction. But unfortunately, not even the joy of seeing a screeching goat head arcing through the air could give her the strength to keep her grip, and her fingers slipped and it was most certainly the end.
Or not. Because of course the Grindelwald guy with the mauled arm could throw himself over the bridge to catch her slipping arm. He grunted with the effort, grasping her tightly and smirking grimly. "What in the world are you doing here?"
And that slightly mocking and condescending tone was so familiar that Morgan's brow was puckered down in thought the second the bridge disappeared from underneath them.
Okay, Matthew would be the first to admit that people made mistakes, and that even he wasn't perfect.
How was he supposed to know that when he reached for the door at the other side of the cave that the bridge would suddenly dissolve under his very feet?
I mean really, they should at least give you a warning.
The Grindelwald guy, who was awfully familiar, lurched over her when the bridge melted from existence. He hissed darkly, and they both reached for each other as the floor rushed up to meet them.
The man was maneuvering his wand, yelling a spell over and over again, but it wouldn't work, and Morgan was absolutely certain that now they were going to die. She gripped the front of his black robes the moment they fell through the floor.
Another illusion.
Morgan only had a second to register that they were falling through the roof of Hufflepuff's cave before they hit the surface of the water.
The impact jarred her broken wrist with a pain like no other. She yelped, and water began flooding her mouth and she clawed her way to the surface, sputtering helplessly when she finally breached it.
The green glowing cave gave the water a spooky feeling, she noted, as she watched only three other people hit the surface after her. Hadn't there been eight before? Where had they gone?
The guy who saved her life was treading water next to her, scowling and muttering: "Why won't the Bubble-Charm work?" whilst ignoring his torn apart arm.
Shadows skimmed underneath Morgan's kicking feet, and she got a good idea where the rest of Grindelwald's men had gone. Somewhere off to her left, a severed arm floated to the surface. The water took on a slightly red tint.
Morgan continued coughing, blood spilling from her mouth as she desperately tried to keep afloat with only one hand in working condition.
"Anthony!" a voice cried from across the lake, "the exit and entrance tunnels have disappeared."
Morgan recognized Matthew's voice, but was still in the process of coughing, too busy to tell him off for being a coward.
Morgan supposed the bright side of the situation was that none of the Chimera's had followed them down, and neither had Billy. Always count your blessings.
When she had finally caught her breath, she looked around to confirm that there were no entrances or exits. Neither was there a stone ledge to clamber onto. Grindelwald's men were arguing about this when Morgan decided to intervene.
"We have to go down!" she hissed, freezing cold and tasting blood.
The one called Anthony, the one who saved her life, looked at her pensively before Matthew interrupted: "And by the way, what the fuck are you doing here?"
"Sight seeing," Morgan spat, and she splashed water in his general direction. Unfortunately, the water hit poor Anthony instead, and the drops caught onto something shiny hanging from his neck.
It gleamed in the light from the cave, black with five indents on its jewel surface. Morgan's mouth popped open. It was the jewel! The trinket she had recovered from the Chamber of Secrets all those weeks ago! Tom had taken it from her right before she was given detention by Dumbledore.
Her eyes were alight with recognition, and then fear. If Tom had been in possession of the trinket, and now he quite obviously wasn't, what did that mean?
Morgan forced those dangerous thoughts from her mind and simply did the first thing that came to mind: she lunged viciously for Anthony (which is really quite an exaggeration, since it took a little over twenty seconds to reach him, a lot of dog-paddling, and an exclamation of "Gimme!" ).
Anthony headed off her attempts to jump him with his good arm, looking confused before his eyes landed on the gem hanging from his neck. "Oh," he muttered, and then he was reaching for his wand.
He was underestimating her, leaving himself wide open for attack when his only good hand darted to his pocket for his wand. Morgan accordingly took advantage, and smashed her head into his.
Several people yelled "What the fuck!" and several curses skimmed along the water's edge rather close to her, but Morgan was only focused on strangling Anthony. She rammed her shoulder into his mauled arm, gripped the trinket that hung from his neck during his pain induced struggled, and pulled sharply downwards.
Good news: it broke free of his neck.
Bad news: it evaded her seeking hand.
"Fuck," Morgan kicked off Anthony, while Matthew ordered his only surviving man to curse the shit out of her. Ignoring his cries, Morgan snagged her wand from her robes and dove under the water.
She casted a quick illuminating charm, not at all pleased by the sight of four sea monsters ripping apart Grindelwald's other men. Squinting, she caught sight of the gem through the carnage, and interestingly enough, a large stone alter in the middle of the lake.
Kicking desperately, Morgan gripped her wand in her mouth and reached her good hand out. Her fingers had just clutched themselves around the chain of the trinket when someone, quite literally, knocked the air out of her.
The well placed kick above her ribcage had her coughing, and Morgan curled in on herself, her fingers slipping from the gem as she spat out more blood. The action was unfortunately followed by the reflexive action of breathing in, and once more her lungs got to go swimming.
While her body instinctually began tearing its way to the surface, Morgan's fingers slipped around the wand that had fallen from her jaw and mouthed a slicing charm. Rather than aim it at the bastard wizard, she decided to toss it towards the sea monsters.
If she couldn't reach the jewel, then she was going to make it a lot fucking harder for that guy to get it.
She breached the surface of the water again, this time with black spots coloring her vision as she tried not to pass out and cough up a lung. She realized she was alone, and that everyone else was going after the jewel. Growling, Morgan dove back under.
It wasn't a pretty sight. Curses flew around her, striving to hold back the salamander fuckers while one man kicked and clawed his way to the jewel. Morgan aimed her wand at the man's back, the only wizard whose name she didn't know, and mouthed: "Petrificus Totalus!"
The man froze, and instantly a monster's tongue darted out and snagged him around the waist. Morgan fought the urge to doubt her actions, and instead snatched the black gem from the water. Guilt could always comes later.
She could tell Anthony and Matthew were confused as to whether or not they should keep the sea-fucks at bay, or if they should start trying to hex her. Morgan tried to give them as little opportunity to think on that as possible, for she darted straight to the alter.
An underwater call had her freezing for a second, and she saw that the sea monsters were all darting towards her.
Not good.
The first salamander creature slithered its tongue through the water. It snaked around her ankle and began pulling her downwards. But she was so close! Not to mention running out of air! Her hand darted to her pocket, and in a desperate attempt at survival, she smashed one of the vials from Ravenclaw's chamber against the creature's tongue.
Black flames exploded through the water, tearing through the monsters instantly. It seemed to only seek them out, ignoring her and Grindelwald's remaining men. Shrieks made the water almost unbearable to stay in, and though Morgan lungs were constricting, she made the last kick over to the stone block in the middle of the lake.
She didn't care where Anthony and Matthew were right now. Survival was the first thing on her mind, and right now surviving meant pushing the gem into the hole in the middle of the stone slab and twisting it until she couldn't anymore.
Morgan's intuition proved fruitful. Instantly, the rock was lifted and acted as a drain for the lake. Morgan was violently dragged through the dark tunnel in a wave of rushing water.
She couldn't hold back her need to breathe any longer. Her lungs filled with water, and this time, she did black out.
"—smart move. Saved our lives."
"—dumb luck…could have died…"
"—just grab it so we can get out of here."
"Just like that?"
"Yeah, just like fucking that. Oh wait! The girl's waking up. Grab the necklace and I'll take care of her."
Morgan's vision swam in front of her eyes, and she realized she was shivering violently. Blurriness almost made her miss the boots in front of her face until they were kicking her in the kidney.
Her body convulsed, and she began coughing again.
"Hello, gorgeous. Didn't expect to see you here, I'll tell you that."
Morgan registered that it was Matthew talking to her, the one who she spent Slughorn's Christmas party with, but couldn't do much about it besides clutch her side.
"I didn't hit you that hard, Leah," he said. He crouched before her and grabbed her shoulders, "Come on, on your feet." When she wavered dangerously, he smartly revised his statement, "Or knees, you know, whatever works."
So that's what Morgan did. She kneeled in her torn skirt on the soaking stone floor and threw up more blood.
Matthew wrinkled his nose, "Anthony, I think you missed some internal wounds," he said condescendingly. "I know you set her wrist and shit, but she's coughing up blood."
There was an annoyed sound from somewhere in the room.
Morgan waved a hand, "Don't worry," she said, "this actually happens quite a lot."
"Oh. I see." Matthew shifted so he was in front of her, and all that she could see. "Alright, so here it goes. You've been unconscious for a little over twenty minutes. In that time, we've made sure you were still breathing, fixed your wrist up a bit, and healed that nasty slice on your other hand. Understand?"
With her tangled hair framing her pale and ragged face, Morgan nodded. "So you haven't killed me. Which means you want something from me."
Matthew grinned delightedly, running a hand along the werewolf scars on the side of his face. "Brilliant! I have missed your company! Such a bright girl." His eyes darkened, "Of course I want something from you: information."
"About what?" she wheezed back.
"Who sent you, how you found out about this place, you know," he twirled a finger in the air, "the usual."
There was a shuffling sound near Matthew, and he looked up to spy Anthony. A mesmerized awe had taken over the man's eyes as his hands clutched something close to his chest. "Beautiful," he whispered.
Matthew saw the glint of the necklace and exhaled deeply. "Good, we got it. Now all we have to do is take care of the girl. What are we going to do with her? After we get the information out of her, of course."
At his partner's prompting, Anthony begrudgingly put the necklace in his pocket, giving Morgan a quick once-over. "Kill her?"
"Meh, maybe. I kind of like her."
"What do you want to do? Take her with us?"
"Uh. Fuck, I don't know. Maybe we should just cross that bridge when we come to it, right?"
"Sure."
"Right!" Matthew bent down again, gripping Morgan's face in his hands. "Alright, here it goes, I ask you a question and you answer, right? Then we can get out of here," he smiled, but it looked far from reassuring.
Morgan said: "Mrrughh" which really translated to: "Okay".
"First question: how are you?"
Morgan raised a disbelieving brow, and wavered from side to side on her knees. Matthew helped steady her, but continued to wait for her to answer. Morgan decided to. "M'fine. Don't really want to ever go swimming again, but fine. You?"
"Fantastic," Matthew answered, pleased she had asked. "Okay, question two: how did you find out about this place?"
"Hiking."
Matthew sighed. "Question three: who are you working for?"
"Batman."
"Who?"
"Batman."
This time, Anthony sighed and Matthew said, "You're really putting me out here."
"I'm feeling a bit put-out myself, actually."
"You're going to make me doing something I really don't want to do, mainly because I don't think I can handle any more screaming."
"Oh yes, you are most definitely getting the short-end of the stick, I mean all I have to do is get tortured, right?"
"Just tell me who you're working with, and how you really found this place."
Morgan sighed, her hands shaking, "Thanks, but no thanks."
"Very well. I must admire your loyalty, Miss Hume. It really is a shame; I did like you."
"Glad to hear you already talking about me in the past-tense."
"Crucio!"
Morgan felt the pain crippling along her spine, hitching her breath and causing her to choke out weak cries of pain. Blood bubbled up from her lungs, and she desperately clutched at her stomach while she writhed on the floor. It was like being torn to pieces, and then sewed back up again, only to be burned afterwards. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was telling herself that she had faced far worse pain, but at the moment, that didn't seem to matter much.
By the time it was done, her voice was hoarse and she back to throwing up.
Matthew held her hair for her.
"I didn't like doing that anymore than you liked suffering through it. I'll ask you again: who do you work for and how did you find this place?"
"I politely decline to answer the question," Morgan choked, trying to wipe the body fluids from her face. Her hands were shaking so much that she missed.
Matthew winced, "Okay. Another round then, cru—"
"—Avada Kedavra."
Morgan blinked, and Matthew fell on top of her. The sound skin twisting and bones distorting met her ears, but all Morgan could do was stare at the face of the dead wizard. His body had knocked straight into hers, sending them colliding to the floor. And while Morgan had struggled to get up, he had remained still.
For some reason, she felt sad. His body was still warm, and she was reminded of the fragility of life. She only averted her eyes when she began coughing again, and spit more blood on the ground.
I suspect I'll be joining you soon enough.
The darkness came for her again, and this time she did not resurface for a long time.