Last chapter's ending
Among all of the old man's wrongdoings in Ajas's life, he couldn't help praising the headmaster. Ajas waited for his emotions to still before he started examining the shelves above the stone recipient. They were covered by hundreds of flasks, each classified and labelled. Ajas's glance skimmed over each sections before he fell on a piece of parchment indicating:
TMR
Chapter 13
AN: This time I don't have any valid excuses for the delay…just my lazy bum and well my postponing habits. And well, I've been reading loads too (Really love Inheritance Cycle by Christopher Paolini). This chapter is sort of a filler….i hope that you'll enjoy it. And please review. AND PLEASE CHECK jessiester's AMAZING FANART ; This is her vision of Ajas :
http : / jessiester .deviantart .com /art/Tormentor-244702763?fullview=1 (without the space and double slash after http...dunno, it doesnt show up)
He stood there, stoically as he glanced at all other sections. Initials…Is it who I think it is? Without a second thought, he grabbed one of the vials labelled and poured the silvery liquid and threads into the pensieve. Ajas then plunged, letting himself embalmed by the silver clouds.
He was standing in a country lane and facing him was a short, plump man with thick glasses.
Possibly the donator of this memory….
The man briskly walked down the lane and Ajas followed him, paying attention to the surrounding envirronment. They walked past a wooden sign " Little Hangleton, 1 mile". They continued walking until the lane fell away, sloping steeply down a hillside. The village appeared then, nestled in a valley, it's church and graveyard clearly visible and…highly familiar. Ajas thought the man was heading towards the village but he took a turn onto a narrow dirt track bordered by wild hedgerows until he halted in front of a dark patch of trees. Ajas narrowed his eyes as he discerned a building half hidden behind the trunks ; the building looked grim and abandonned, reminding Ajas slightly of the Shrieking Shack. The only thing which suggested that this place was inhabited was the steam issuing from one of the windows.
The door, on which was nailed a dead snake, was briskly oppened, revealing a man with thick hair matted with dirt. His teeth were almost brown and some were missing ; his eyes were small, pig like, not unlike Vernon's ones. They stared in different directions and the overall effect seemed scary to the visitor as he backed off, but it was comical to Ajas. Almost.
:You're not welcome: The crazed looking man hissed
Parseltongue? Is he possibly related to Lord Voldemort or…well me? Ajas cringed at the idea of having such a…disturbing looking relative. The visitor shuddered as he presented himself nervously. From the ministry of magic…
:You're not welcomed here: The shack's owner kept hissing as he brandished a wand and a bloodied knife. He walked toward the ministry's agent and hitted him when a voice from inside the house called out
"Morfin!"
The man halted and sidestepped, letting an eldery ape like man reach the doorway.
"Ministry, is it?" said the older man, looking down at Ogden. "Correct!" said the agent angrily, dabbing his face. "And you, I take it, are Mr. Gaunt?"
"S'right," said Gaunt. "Got you in the face, did he?" "Yes, he did!" snapped the visitor.
"Should've made your presence known, shouldn't you?" said Gaunt aggressively. "This is private property. Can't just walk in here and not expect my son to defend himself."
"Defend himself against what, man?" said the ministry's agent, clambering back to his feet.
"Busybodies. Intruders. Muggles and filth." replied
Yes, Ajas thought , definitely related. Ajas followed in the house , witnessing the scene. He felt his respect rise for the ministry's agent when he deflected the questions concerning his blood's purity.
The house seemed to contain three tiny rooms. Two doors led off the main room, which served as kitchen and living room com-bined. Morfin was sitting in a filthy armchair beside the smoking fire, twisting a live adder between his thick fingers and crooning softly at it in Parseltongue:
:Hissy, hissy, little snakey,
Slither on the floor
You be good to Morfin
Or he'll nail you to the door. :
Mental. Completely mental, this one. Ajas thought as he examined the interior. It was then that he noticed a young woman wearing a ragged dress who was visibly cooking. Her hair was lank and dull and she had a plain, pale, rather heavy face. Her eyes, like her brother's, stared in opposite directions. She looked a little cleaner than the two men, but Ajas thought he had never seen a more defeated-looking person.
Gaunt presented her as "Merope" and the visitor saluted her. She did not answer and glanced at them in fright.
Poor creature…Ajas instantly took pity of her while the ministry's agent (Ogden, now that he paid attention to the insignia attached to the man's shirt) reported about Morfin using magic on muggles.
Merope dropped one of the pots, producing a loud clang. Gaunt instantly bellowed at her while she scrubbed the floor, calling her filthy muggle and other horrible sounding names. Especially coming from the mouth of a father…. He then mended the pot and continued screaming at her.
Poor woman. If that's how squibs are treated in the purist pureblood families, no wonder why they all flee to the muggle world.
Meanwhile, the situation degradated as Ogden spoke about Morfin's crimes and possible sentences. Gaunt insulted Ogden before glauting about his own line and pure ancestry. Ajas lazilly observed the scene when something caught his eye…
The ring on Gaunt's finger. He waved it in front of Ogden
"See this? See this? Know what it is? Know where it came from? Centuries it's been in our family, that's how far back we go, and pure-blood all the way! Know how much I've been offered for this, with the Peverell coat of arms engraved on the stone?"
The Peverell coat of arms engraved on the stone? A stone? Ajas's heart skipped a beat as he loomed closer, examining the black stone on the ring.
It can't be….
:The stone of resurrection!: For the first time, Balthazar spoke. :That's what it is!:
Ajas couldn't utter a single word. The implications are gigantic….
The scene continued to play in front of them when Gaunt dragged his daughter forward and pulled out…the Locket.
"See this?" he bellowed at Ogden, shaking a heavy gold locket at him, while Merope spluttered and gasped for breath.
"I see it, I see it!" said Ogden hastily
.
"Slytherins!" yelled Gaunt. "Salazar Slytherin's! We're his last living descendants, what do you say to that, eh?"
So the locket belonged to Slytherin…And yes, they are definitely related to Voldemort. My paternal family? Ugh…
Ajas wanted to bang his head when realisation drew upon him
Ofcourse they are, I saw their name on Gringott's inheritance report. Hundreds of questions kept swirling in his mind concerning the locket ; Who's soul was within? Slytherin perhaps? Or one of the Gaunts? Or Voldemort…? For what purpose….Oh well, the book's for that.
Ajas kept witnessing the memory until a jippling clopping sounds of horses and loud, laughing voices drifted through the open window. Apparently the winding lane to the village passed very close to the copse where the house stood. Merope raised her face, starkly pale ; why does it earn her attention this way? Ajas peered through the window.
"My God, what an eyesore!" rang out a girl's voice, as clearly audible through the open window as if she had stood in the room beside them. "Couldn't your father have that hovel cleared away, Tom?"
"It's not ours," said a young man's voice. "Everything on the other side of the valley belongs to us, but that cottage belongs to an old tramp called Gaunt, and his children. The son's quite mad, you should hear some of the stories they tell in the village —"
"Tom," said the girl's voice again, now so close they were clearly right beside the house, "I might be wrong — but has somebody nailed a snake to that door?"
"Good lord, you're right!" said the man's voice. "That'll be the son, I told you he's not right in the head. Don't look at it, Cecilia, darling."
Ajas gaped ; the man riding the horse had ebony hair, high cheekbones…a straight nose… An all too familiar face.
Tom Riddle Sr. So, it is you…
The jingling and clopping sounds were now growing faint again.
"'Darling,'" whispered Morfin in Parseltongue, looking at his sister. "'Darling, he called her. So he wouldn't have you anyway."
Merope was so white Harry felt sure she was going to faint.
"What's that?" said Gaunt sharply, also in Parseltongue, looking from his son to his daughter. "What did you say, Morfin?"
"She likes looking at that Muggle," said Morfin, a vicious expression on his face as he stared at his sister, who now looked terrified. "Always in the garden when he passes, peering through the hedge at him, isn't she? And last night — "
Ajas paid no heed to the surrounding conversation as he stared at his paternal grandparents…How on earth did those two end up together?
He did not ponder more as he was expulsed out of the pensieve when the memory ended. Ajas decided that he should take all of the vials within the TMR section as they were an incredible source of information.
:That was extremely enlighting: the silver snake hissed :But we shall not remain here any longer than necessary:
Ajas nodded as he grabbed each vials carefully before tucking them into his bag. He then smirked contentedly before disappearing under his invisibility cloak.
Merely an hour later he was home and he couldn't believe it himself either ; for once, absolutely nothing happened. He decided that he should get a pensieve as soon as possible, buying it or…
There's one in my vault, he remembered. He decided to go straight to Gringotts tomorrow morning.
:If we're lucky, we might find the resurrection stone…: The silver snake hissed once Ajas fell on his bed. He decided to postpone the horcrux studies to tomorrow because fatigue took over his body. Yes, finding the resurrection stone might be a solution to all his problems because he could use it to communicate and ask the necessary questions to his mother. He had considered necromancy but it is a very dangerous art ; one could lose himself in the realm of the deads.
But where to look for the stone? Gaunt's vaults?...fuck no. Perhaps their house? It's worth an investigation.
"Gah, so many things to do…" Ajas mumbled to himself as he stood up to fold his invisibility cloak and then properly put it into his trunk.
:Where did you get that cloak?: Balthazar asked.
:It used to be my…stepfather's. And he got it from his grandfather…: Ajas answered, absentmindly.
:Child, do you realise that any normal invisibility cloak becomes useless after 50 years?:
What is he trying to get to? Ajas suddenly forgot his previous numbness and focused onto the cloak and Balthazar's words. He unfolded it, letting it's thin and perfectly even texture slip through his fingers.
And it was for the first time that he noticed a tiny symbol embroidered on a corner
A triangle, a circle and a stick pointing upwards….