Krait finds a few more things to be coarse about

Chapter 8: More Pensieve Perusing

Krait felt in need of love from her husband and seduced him quite firmly. Her encounters with her father's early life, and more particularly the unfortunate Merope had upset her quite a lot. She lay against Severus, the physical exhaustion of their loving acting as a catharsis for her mental anguish; and buried her face against him. He stroked the silvery cascade of her hair with one hand and held her to him with the other.

"You are strong for me, beloved" she said.

"You are strong for me when I need it….we prop each other up"

"Like bookends…..even if we both sag a little we catch against each other and proceed bent but unbroken" she said.

"I think that's a mixed metaphor….but I know what you mean." He kissed her gently. "He can't break us. He can kill us but he can't break us."

"Let's make sure we get our retaliation in first, hm?" she said, snuggling at him.

"Too damn right!" he agreed forcefully.

-/-

The next day saw new bottles of memories for the Penseive.

"I have few memories of Tom while he was at Hogwarts" said Professor Dumbledore. "Few who knew him are prepared to talk about him; they are too terrified. What I know, I found out after he left Hogwarts, tracing the few who could be tricked or persuaded into speaking, searching old records, questioning muggle and wizard witnesses alike. I found that he was obsessed with his parentage; not unnatural for someone who grew up in an orphanage" he smiled at both Harry and Krait.

"But if you let your curiosity get out of hand it detracts from your own development" said Krait. "We are all who we are; and it's at least partly down to the way we grew up, as in the blood. I'd have been a far less strong person if I'd grown up the pampered pet of an acknowledged Malfoy."

Dumbledore smiled at her.

"But it is a tribute to both you and Harry that you grew up strong and loving despite terrible odds against you in your upbringing. But to continue….once Tom had exhausted his searches for a wizard named Tom Riddle he turned his attentions to the mother he despised for dying. He had one name to go on – 'Marvolo' which his mother had told the orphanage authorities had been her father's name. he tracked down Slytherin's line. In the summer of his sixteenth year he left the orphanage where he returned annually and set off in search of the Gaunts. And it is this memory of Morfin Gaunt that I was amazingly lucky to collect."

The teenage Tom Riddle was instantly recognisable, in the Gaunt hovel, exchanging a long look with the repellent figure of Morfin Gaunt. He had let himself go badly; the hovel was even more filthy and sordid than ever and Morfin himself, surrounded by bottles and slumped in a drunken stupor was unkempt with an untamed beard and hair.

His first reaction to Tom was to try to attack him; but when Tom spoke in Parseltongue, the single word ssss stop ssss Morfin skidded to an incredulous halt.

Riddle was obviously disgusted and disappointed, though he showed no fear; Krait could feel Harry's surge of resentful admiration.

"You NEVER show fear in an institution" she murmured. "It gets you bullied."

Harry nodded. He had learned to hide his feelings from the Dursleys eventually.

Tom Riddle asked about Marvolo; and established Morfin's identity and that his grandfather was dead years since. Morfin explained that he thought that Tom was the muggle that his sister had fancied, who lived in the big house. It transpired that Morfin believed that not only had Riddle senior abandoned his sister but had robbed her of Slytherin's locket; Morfin was working himself into a rage; and then an unnatural darkness fell.

The group emerged into the bright morning light of Dumbledore's office blinking.

"My father laid him out?" queried Krait.

"Approximately" said Dumbledore. "He robbed him of his memory from that point on, overlaying others, though he did not awake until the morning, and Marvolo's ring, which he wore, had gone. When the Ministry called on him because the deaths of Tom Riddle senior and his parents at the big house bore the unmistakeable mark of Avada Kedavra he proudly admitted it. He gave details only someone who had been there would have known; and it was his wand that was used…he went to Azkaban without a fight, disturbed only that he had lost his ring, telling his captors 'he'll kill me for losing it'. He lived the remainder of his life in Azkaban lamenting its loss."

"So Voldemort fitted up his own uncle by stealing his wand and using it?" asked Harry.

"Yes…as revenge for the father who never wanted him, and his grandparents for good measure. Even at sixteen he was equal to the complex magic to implant false memories and pocketed the ring, laying Morfin's wand back beside him."

"It's not that complex…" said Krait "I can see how to do it….more complex is the legilimensy that unravelled the true memory there from Morfin. Your work, sir?"

"Indeed….nobody else would bother to delve into Morfin's mind when he had made a full and boastful confession…I secured permission to visit him in the last weeks of his life when I was attempting to discover all I could of Voldemort's past. Naturally, when I realised what I had, I tried to secure an order for Morfin's release but he died before the Ministry had reached a decision."

"But….couldn't they detect him using underage magic?"

"My dear boy, the Ministry can detect the use of magic…not the source. You were blamed for Dobby's hovering charm; and would have been blamed for Severus and Sirius destroying the dementors in Little Whinging had Severus not gone directly to the Ministry to claim responsibility…"

"It's not fair..it wasn't fair what happened to Morfin…"

"Though possibly the only reason he hadn't killed them himself was out of drunken apathy" said Krait, dryly. "I know you disagree, Professor, but I suspect he probably at least half deserved it for intent; and even having been tricked, I'm not sure my grandfather didn't have it coming to him for abandoning his son, even allowing for feeling injured over Merope's actions. HIS parents are a different matter…it shows a lack of finesse on my father's part that he killed in front of witnesses he then had to silence."

"I think he would have killed them anyway" said Dumbledore "To excise the whole family."

"He probably used the cruciatus curse on Tom senior too" said Severus "Morfin believed him to have stolen the locket….Voldemort would have wanted to find out, and probably enjoyed that way of questioning more than legilimensy."

Dumbledore nodded.

"You are probably right" he said. "I thought we would quickly look at Horace's horribly doctored memory just so you recognise what to look for should you come across it again…."

-/-

Horace Slughorn here was much younger than the one Krait had met, with a thatch of shiny straw-coloured hair, though there was a Galleon sized bald patch as an indication of the baldness yet to come; his moustache was less massive and was gingery-blonde. Nor was he as fat. He sat relaxed in his office with a crowd of boys like courtiers sat on lower seats like a travesty, Krait thought, of pictures of the adoration of the shepherds and magi. Riddle, the handsomest boy there, sat relaxed with an arm on Slughorn's chair; and Marvolo's ring upon his finger. He was asking if there was truth in the rumour about the DADA teacher retiring. Slughorn teased him about his information gathering and careful flattery of people who mattered; the other boys gave him admiring looks. Then there was a thick mist and Slughorn's voice unnaturally loud you'll go wrong, my boy mark my words then the fog cleared and Slughorn was dismissing them, reminding them of an essay due. Riddle remained behind and asked the all important question about Horcruces.

There was the mist again and Slughorn's voice denying any knowledge and sending Tom about his business.

They emerged.

"Cheeky old bugger!" said Krait. Dumbledore fixed her with a steely eye.

"Miss Malfoy, pray remember that Horace Slughorn will be your Potions Master in the coming year….you will treat him with due respect."

"I'll treat him with the respect due to his position and what is due to him for his ability at his subject, sir; I don't have to let what I feel show but I'd be a hypocrite, sir, to lie to you about my anger over his obstructive behaviour that could have jeopardised my friends' lives" she said, looking down her nose.

"You are usually tolerant of weakness in others, Krait" said Dumbledore "And I ask you to be tolerant of Horace….I believe he tampered with the memory because he was ashamed of his own recollections, ashamed of having told Tom Riddle what he wanted to know."

"That would tally with my legilimensy when Krait got him to speak" said Severus softly. "Horace is a weak character…I disliked him when I was at school but I believe I am prepared to move on and pity his insecurity."

"Dammit, Lover, if you have to be so revoltingly noble, that puts the onus on me to be as well!" said Krait. "Sure you aren't hiding Gryffindor tendencies up the right sleeve to balance the dark mark on the left?"

Severus laughed.

"What, descent into insults? I suppose that counts as our first lovers' tiff…"

Krait chuckled.

The portrait of Phineas Nigellus sniffed.

"What I don't understand is how that chit managed to get the memory you couldn't, Dumbledore" said the portrait snippily.

"I mixed guilt over Lily's poor baby and a fair bit of threats to his person" said Krait. "Trust a Slytherin ruthlessness you know…"

"Hmm… something in that…you're an insolent girl."

"Why, thank you, Phineas Nigellus" said Krait demurely. "I live but to displease…."

Phineas Nigellus spluttered.

"Behave yourself Krait" said Dumbledore.

Krait sighed.

"If you insist sir….he winds so beautiful though…."

"We will resume after lunch" said Dumbledore. "I trust, Krait, you will not be looking up the old detention records from Phineas Nigellus' time?"

Krait pulled a face.

"You know me too well sir" she said. "Nobody else would have thought of forbidding that….is it hopeless to mention the caning and six hundred lines that Dumbledore, A, got for attaching his head of house's bloomers to a kite rig and attaching it to fly over the castle from the flagpole?"

"Utterly" said Dumbledore, with a reminiscent gleam in his eye. "They were vast things, and filled out beautifully in the wind….it was well worth the punishment…dear me, I've not thought about that for years!"

"Incorrigible depravity!" Phineas Nigellus shouted futilely at them as they left.